transcribed from the methuen and co. edition by david price, email ccx @coventry.ac.uk reviews to mrs. carew the apparently endless difficulties against which i have contended, and am contending, in the management of oscar wilde's literary and dramatic property have brought me many valued friends; but only one friendship which seemed as endless; one friend's kindness which seemed to annul the disappointments of eight years. that is why i venture to place your name on this volume with the assurance of the author himself who bequeathed to me his works and something of his indiscretion. robert ross may th, . introduction the editor of writings by any author not long deceased is censured sooner or later for his errors of omission or commission. i have decided to err on the side of commission and to include in the uniform edition of wilde's works everything that could be identified as genuine. wilde's literary reputation has survived so much that i think it proof against any exhumation of articles which he or his admirers would have preferred to forget. as a matter of fact, i believe this volume will prove of unusual interest; some of the reviews are curiously prophetic; some are, of course, biassed by prejudice hostile or friendly; others are conceived in the author's wittiest and happiest vein; only a few are colourless. and if, according to lord beaconsfield, the verdict of a continental nation may be regarded as that of posterity, wilde is a much greater force in our literature than even friendly contemporaries ever supposed he would become. it should be remembered, however, that at the time when most of these reviews were written wilde had published scarcely any of the works by which his name has become famous in europe, though the protagonist of the aesthetic movement was a well-known figure in paris and london. later he was recognised--it would be truer to say he was ignored--as a young man who had never fulfilled the high promise of a distinguished university career although his volume of poems had reached its fifth edition, an unusual event in those days. he had alienated a great many of his oxford contemporaries by his extravagant manner of dress and his methods of courting publicity. the great men of the previous generation, wilde's intellectual peers, with whom he was in artistic sympathy, looked on him askance. ruskin was disappointed with his former pupil, and pater did not hesitate to express disapprobation to private friends; while he accepted incense from a disciple, he distrusted the thurifer. from a large private correspondence in my possession i gather that it was, oddly enough, in political and social centres that wilde's amazing powers were rightly appreciated and where he was welcomed as the most brilliant of living talkers. before he had published anything except his poems, the literary dovecots regarded him with dislike, and when he began to publish essays and fairy stories, the attitude was not changed; it was merely emphasised in the public press. his first dramatic success at the st. james's theatre gave wilde, of course, a different position, and the dislike became qualified with envy. some of the younger men indeed were dazzled, but with few exceptions their appreciation was expressed in an unfortunate manner. it is a consolation or a misfortune that the wrong kind of people are too often correct in their prognostications of the future; the far-seeing are also the foolish. from these reviews which illustrate the middle period of wilde's meteoric career, between the aesthetic period and the production of lady windermere's fan, we learn _his_ opinion of the contemporaries who thought little enough of him. that he revised many of these opinions, notably those that are harsh, i need scarcely say; and after his release from prison he lost much of his admiration for certain writers. i would draw special attention to those reviews of mr. swinburne, mr. wilfrid blunt, mr. alfred austin, the hon. john collier, mr. brander matthews and sir edwin arnold, rossetti, pater, henley and morris; they have more permanent value than the others, and are in accord with the wiser critical judgments of to-day. for leave to republish the articles from the pall mall gazette i am indebted to mr. william waldorf astor, the owner of the copyrights, by arrangement with whom they are here reprinted. i have to thank most cordially messrs. cassell and company for permitting me to reproduce the editorial articles and reviews contributed by wilde to the woman's world; the editor and proprietor of the nation for leave to include the two articles from the speaker; and the editor of the saturday review for a similar courtesy. for identifying many of the anonymous articles i am indebted to mr. arthur humphreys, not the least of his kindnesses in assisting the publication of this edition; for the trouble of editing, arrangement, and collecting of material i am under obligations to mr. stuart mason for which this acknowledgment is totally inadequate. robert ross reform club, may th, dinners and dishes (pall mall gazette, march , .) a man can live for three days without bread, but no man can live for one day without poetry, was an aphorism of baudelaire. you can live without pictures and music but you cannot live without eating, says the author of dinners and dishes; and this latter view is, no doubt, the more popular. who, indeed, in these degenerate days would hesitate between an ode and an omelette, a sonnet and a salmis? yet the position is not entirely philistine; cookery is an art; are not its principles the subject of south kensington lectures, and does not the royal academy give a banquet once a year? besides, as the coming democracy will, no doubt, insist on feeding us all on penny dinners, it is well that the laws of cookery should be explained: for were the national meal burned, or badly seasoned, or served up with the wrong sauce a dreadful revolution might follow. under these circumstances we strongly recommend dinners and dishes to every one: it is brief and concise and makes no attempt at eloquence, which is extremely fortunate. for even on ortolans who could endure oratory? it also has the advantage of not being illustrated. the subject of a work of art has, of course, nothing to do with its beauty, but still there is always something depressing about the coloured lithograph of a leg of mutton. as regards the author's particular views, we entirely agree with him on the important question of macaroni. 'never,' he says, 'ask me to back a bill for a man who has given me a macaroni pudding.' macaroni is essentially a savoury dish and may be served with cheese or tomatoes but never with sugar and milk. there is also a useful description of how to cook risotto--a delightful dish too rarely seen in england; an excellent chapter on the different kinds of salads, which should be carefully studied by those many hostesses whose imaginations never pass beyond lettuce and beetroot; and actually a recipe for making brussels sprouts eatable. the last is, of course, a masterpiece. the real difficulty that we all have to face in life is not so much the science of cookery as the stupidity of cooks. and in this little handbook to practical epicureanism the tyrant of the english kitchen is shown in her proper light. her entire ignorance of herbs, her passion for extracts and essences, her total inability to make a soup which is anything more than a combination of pepper and gravy, her inveterate habit of sending up bread poultices with pheasants,--all these sins and many others are ruthlessly unmasked by the author. ruthlessly and rightly. for the british cook is a foolish woman who should be turned for her iniquities into a pillar of salt which she never knows how to use. but our author is not local merely. he has been in many lands; he has eaten back-hendl at vienna and kulibatsch at st. petersburg; he has had the courage to face the buffalo veal of roumania and to dine with a german family at one o'clock; he has serious views on the right method of cooking those famous white truffles of turin of which alexandre dumas was so fond; and, in the face of the oriental club, declares that bombay curry is better than the curry of bengal. in fact he seems to have had experience of almost every kind of meal except the 'square meal' of the americans. this he should study at once; there is a great field for the philosophic epicure in the united states. boston beans may be dismissed at once as delusions, but soft-shell crabs, terrapin, canvas-back ducks, blue fish and the pompono of new orleans are all wonderful delicacies, particularly when one gets them at delmonico's. indeed, the two most remarkable bits of scenery in the states are undoubtedly delmonico's and the yosemite valley; and the former place has done more to promote a good feeling between england and america than anything else has in this century. we hope the 'wanderer' will go there soon and add a chapter to dinners and dishes, and that his book will have in england the influence it deserves. there are twenty ways of cooking a potato and three hundred and sixty-five ways of cooking an egg, yet the british cook, up to the present moment, knows only three methods of sending up either one or the other. dinners and dishes. by 'wanderer.' (simpkin and marshall.) a modern epic (pall mall gazette, march , .) in an age of hurry like ours the appearance of an epic poem more than five thousand lines in length cannot but be regarded as remarkable. whether such a form of art is the one most suited to our century is a question. edgar allan poe insisted that no poem should take more than an hour to read, the essence of a work of art being its unity of impression and of effect. still, it would be difficult to accept absolutely a canon of art which would place the divine comedy on the shelf and deprive us of the bothwell of mr. swinburne. a work of art is to be estimated by its beauty not by its size, and in mr. wills's melchior there is beauty of a rich and lofty character. remembering the various arts which have yielded up their secrets to mr. wills, it is interesting to note in his poems, here the picturesque vision of the painter, here the psychology of the novelist, and here the playwright's sense of dramatic situation. yet these things, which are the elements of his work of art though we arbitrarily separate them in criticism, are in the work itself blended and made one by the true imaginative and informing power. for melchior is not a piece of poetic writing merely; it is that very rare thing, a poem. it is dedicated to mr. robert browning, not inappropriately, as it deals with that problem of the possible expression of life through music, the value of which as a motive in poetry mr. browning was the first to see. the story is this. in one of the little gothic towns of northern germany lives melchior, a dreamer and a musician. one night he rescues by chance a girl from drowning and lodges her in a convent of holy women. he grows to love her and to see in her the incarnation of that st. cecily whom, with mystic and almost mediaeval passion, he had before adored. but a priest separates them, and melchior goes mad. an old doctor, who makes a study of insanity, determines to try and cure him, and induces the girl to appear to him, disguised as st. cecily herself, while he sits brooding at the organ. thinking her at first to be indeed the saint he had worshipped, melchior falls in ecstasy at her feet, but soon discovering the trick kills her in a sudden paroxysm of madness. the horror of the act restores his reason; but, with the return of sanity, the dreams and visions of the artist's nature begin to vanish; the musician sees the world not through a glass but face to face, and he dies just as the world is awakening to his music. the character of melchior, who inherits his music from his father, and from his mother his mysticism, is extremely fascinating as a psychological study. mr. wills has made a most artistic use of that scientific law of heredity which has already strongly influenced the literature of this century, and to which we owe dr. holmes's fantastic elsie venner, daniel deronda--that dullest of masterpieces--and the dreadful rougon-macquart family with whose misdeeds m. zola is never weary of troubling us. blanca, the girl, is a somewhat slight sketch, but then, like ophelia, she is merely the occasion of a tragedy and not its heroine. the rest of the characters are most powerfully drawn and create themselves simply and swiftly before us as the story proceeds, the method of the practised dramatist being here of great value. as regards the style, we notice some accidental assonances of rhyme which in an unrhymed poem are never pleasing; and the unfinished short line of five or six syllables, however legitimate on the stage where the actor himself can make the requisite musical pause, is not a beauty in a blank verse poem, and is employed by mr. wills far too frequently. still, taken as a whole, the style has the distinction of noble melody. there are many passages which, did space permit us, we would like to quote, but we must content ourselves with saying that in melchior we find not merely pretty gems of rich imagery and delicate fancy, but a fine imaginative treatment of many of the most important modern problems, notably of the relation of life to art. it is a pleasure to herald a poem which combines so many elements of strength and beauty. melchior. by w. g. wills, author of charles i., olivia, etc., and writer of claudian. (macmillan and co.) shakespeare on scenery (dramatic review, march , .) i have often heard people wonder what shakespeare would say, could he see mr. irving's production of his much ado about nothing, or mr. wilson barrett's setting of his hamlet. would he take pleasure in the glory of the scenery and the marvel of the colour? would he be interested in the cathedral of messina, and the battlements of elsinore? or would he be indifferent, and say the play, and the play only, is the thing? speculations like these are always pleasurable, and in the present case happen to be profitable also. for it is not difficult to see what shakespeare's attitude would be; not difficult, that is to say, if one reads shakespeare himself, instead of reading merely what is written about him. speaking, for instance, directly, as the manager of a london theatre, through the lips of the chorus in henry v., he complains of the smallness of the stage on which he has to produce the pageant of a big historical play, and of the want of scenery which obliges him to cut out many of its most picturesque incidents, apologises for the scanty number of supers who had to play the soldiers, and for the shabbiness of the properties, and, finally, expresses his regret at being unable to bring on real horses. in the midsummer night's dream, again, he gives us a most amusing picture of the straits to which theatrical managers of his day were reduced by the want of proper scenery. in fact, it is impossible to read him without seeing that he is constantly protesting against the two special limitations of the elizabethan stage--the lack of suitable scenery, and the fashion of men playing women's parts, just as he protests against other difficulties with which managers of theatres have still to contend, such as actors who do not understand their words; actors who miss their cues; actors who overact their parts; actors who mouth; actors who gag; actors who play to the gallery, and amateur actors. and, indeed, a great dramatist, as he was, could not but have felt very much hampered at being obliged continually to interrupt the progress of a play in order to send on some one to explain to the audience that the scene was to be changed to a particular place on the entrance of a particular character, and after his exit to somewhere else; that the stage was to represent the deck of a ship in a storm, or the interior of a greek temple, or the streets of a certain town, to all of which inartistic devices shakespeare is reduced, and for which he always amply apologises. besides this clumsy method, shakespeare had two other substitutes for scenery--the hanging out of a placard, and his descriptions. the first of these could hardly have satisfied his passion for picturesqueness and his feeling for beauty, and certainly did not satisfy the dramatic critic of his day. but as regards the description, to those of us who look on shakespeare not merely as a playwright but as a poet, and who enjoy reading him at home just as much as we enjoy seeing him acted, it may be a matter of congratulation that he had not at his command such skilled machinists as are in use now at the princess's and at the lyceum. for had cleopatra's barge, for instance, been a structure of canvas and dutch metal, it would probably have been painted over or broken up after the withdrawal of the piece, and, even had it survived to our own day, would, i am afraid, have become extremely shabby by this time. whereas now the beaten gold of its poop is still bright, and the purple of its sails still beautiful; its silver oars are not tired of keeping time to the music of the flutes they follow, nor the nereid's flower-soft hands of touching its silken tackle; the mermaid still lies at its helm, and still on its deck stand the boys with their coloured fans. yet lovely as all shakespeare's descriptive passages are, a description is in its essence undramatic. theatrical audiences are far more impressed by what they look at than by what they listen to; and the modern dramatist, in having the surroundings of his play visibly presented to the audience when the curtain rises, enjoys an advantage for which shakespeare often expresses his desire. it is true that shakespeare's descriptions are not what descriptions are in modern plays--accounts of what the audience can observe for themselves; they are the imaginative method by which he creates in the mind of the spectators the image of that which he desires them to see. still, the quality of the drama is action. it is always dangerous to pause for picturesqueness. and the introduction of self-explanatory scenery enables the modern method to be far more direct, while the loveliness of form and colour which it gives us, seems to me often to create an artistic temperament in the audience, and to produce that joy in beauty for beauty's sake, without which the great masterpieces of art can never be understood, to which, and to which only, are they ever revealed. to talk of the passion of a play being hidden by the paint, and of sentiment being killed by scenery, is mere emptiness and folly of words. a noble play, nobly mounted, gives us double artistic pleasure. the eye as well as the ear is gratified, and the whole nature is made exquisitely receptive of the influence of imaginative work. and as regards a bad play, have we not all seen large audiences lured by the loveliness of scenic effect into listening to rhetoric posing as poetry, and to vulgarity doing duty for realism? whether this be good or evil for the public i will not here discuss, but it is evident that the playwright, at any rate, never suffers. indeed, the artist who really has suffered through the modern mounting of plays is not the dramatist at all, but the scene-painter proper. he is rapidly being displaced by the stage-carpenter. now and then, at drury lane, i have seen beautiful old front cloths let down, as perfect as pictures some of them, and pure painter's work, and there are many which we all remember at other theatres, in front of which some dialogue was reduced to graceful dumb-show through the hammer and tin-tacks behind. but as a rule the stage is overcrowded with enormous properties, which are not merely far more expensive and cumbersome than scene-paintings, but far less beautiful, and far less true. properties kill perspective. a painted door is more like a real door than a real door is itself, for the proper conditions of light and shade can be given to it; and the excessive use of built up structures always makes the stage too glaring, for as they have to be lit from behind, as well as from the front, the gas-jets become the absolute light of the scene instead of the means merely by which we perceive the conditions of light and shadow which the painter has desired to show us. so, instead of bemoaning the position of the playwright, it were better for the critics to exert whatever influence they may possess towards restoring the scene-painter to his proper position as an artist, and not allowing him to be built over by the property man, or hammered to death by the carpenter. i have never seen any reason myself why such artists as mr. beverley, mr. walter hann, and mr. telbin should not be entitled to become academicians. they have certainly as good a claim as have many of those r.a.'s whose total inability to paint we can see every may for a shilling. and lastly, let those critics who hold up for our admiration the simplicity of the elizabethan stage, remember that they are lauding a condition of things against which shakespeare himself, in the spirit of a true artist, always strongly protested. a bevy of poets (pall mall gazette, march , .) this spring the little singers are out before the little sparrows and have already begun chirruping. here are four volumes already, and who knows how many more will be given to us before the laburnums blossom? the best-bound volume must, of course, have precedence. it is called echoes of memory, by atherton furlong, and is cased in creamy vellum and tied with ribbons of yellow silk. mr. furlong's charm is the unsullied sweetness of his simplicity. indeed, we can strongly recommend to the school-board the lines on the old town pump as eminently suitable for recitation by children. such a verse, for instance, as: i hear the little children say (for the tale will never die) how the old pump flowed both night and day when the brooks and the wells ran dry, has all the ring of macaulay in it, and is a form of poetry which cannot possibly harm anybody, even if translated into french. any inaccurate ideas of the laws of nature which the children might get from the passage in question could easily be corrected afterwards by a lecture on hydrostatics. the poem, however, which gives us most pleasure is the one called the dear old knocker on the door. it is appropriately illustrated by mr. tristram ellis. we quote the concluding verses of the first and last stanzas: blithe voices then so dear send up their shouts once more, then sounds again on mem'ry's ear the dear old knocker on the door. . . . . . when mem'ry turns the key where time has placed my score, encased 'mid treasured thoughts must be the dear old knocker on the door. the cynic may mock at the subject of these verses, but we do not. why not an ode on a knocker? does not victor hugo's tragedy of lucrece borgia turn on the defacement of a doorplate? mr. furlong must not be discouraged. perhaps he will write poetry some day. if he does we would earnestly appeal to him to give up calling a cock 'proud chanticleer.' few synonyms are so depressing. having been lured by the circe of a white vellum binding into the region of the pump and doormat, we turn to a modest little volume by mr. bowling of st. john's college, cambridge, entitled sagittulae. and they are indeed delicate little arrows, for they are winged with the lightness of the lyric and barbed daintily with satire. aesthesis and athletes is a sweet idyll, and nothing can be more pathetic than the tragedy of the xix. century, which tells of a luckless examiner condemned in his public capacity to pluck for her little-go the girl graduate whom he privately adores. girton seems to be having an important influence on the cambridge school of poetry. we are not surprised. the graces are the graces always, even when they wear spectacles. then comes tuberose and meadowsweet, by mr. mark andre raffalovich. this is really a remarkable little volume, and contains many strange and beautiful poems. to say of these poems that they are unhealthy and bring with them the heavy odours of the hothouse is to point out neither their defect nor their merit, but their quality merely. and though mr. raffalovich is not a wonderful poet, still he is a subtle artist in poetry. indeed, in his way he is a boyish master of curious music and of fantastic rhyme, and can strike on the lute of language so many lovely chords that it seems a pity he does not know how to pronounce the title of his book and the theme of his songs. for he insists on making 'tuberose' a trisyllable always, as if it were a potato blossom and not a flower shaped like a tiny trumpet of ivory. however, for the sake of his meadowsweet and his spring-green binding this must be forgiven him. and though he cannot pronounce 'tuberose' aright, at least he can sing of it exquisitely. finally we come to sturm und drang, the work of an anonymous writer. opening the volume at hazard we come across these graceful lines: how sweet to spend in this blue bay the close of life's disastrous day, to watch the morn break faintly free across the greyness of the sea, what time memnonian music fills the shadows of the dewy hills. well, here is the touch of a poet, and we pluck up heart and read on. the book is a curious but not inartistic combination of the mental attitude of mr. matthew arnold with the style of lord tennyson. sometimes, as in the sicilian hermit, we get merely the metre of locksley hall without its music, merely its fine madness and not its fine magic. still, elsewhere there is good work, and caliban in east london has a great deal of power in it, though we do not like the adjective 'knockery' even in a poem on whitechapel. on the whole, to those who watch the culture of the age, the most interesting thing in young poets is not so much what they invent as what masters they follow. a few years ago it was all mr. swinburne. that era has happily passed away. the mimicry of passion is the most intolerable of all poses. now, it is all lord tennyson, and that is better. for a young writer can gain more from the study of a literary poet than from the study of a lyrist. he may become the pupil of the one, but he can never be anything but the slave of the other. and so we are glad to see in this volume direct and noble praise of him * * * * * who plucked in english meadows flowers fair as any that in unforgotten stave vied with the orient gold of venus' hair or fringed the murmur of the aegean wave, which are the fine words in which this anonymous poet pays his tribute to the laureate. ( ) echoes of memory. by atherton furlong. (field and tuer.) ( ) sagittulae. by e. w. bowling. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) tuberose and meadowsweet. by mark andre raffalovich. (david bogue.) ( ) sturm und drang. (elliot stock.) in reply to the review a bevy of poets the following letter was published in the pall mall gazette on march , , under the title of the root of the matter sir,--i am sorry not to be able to accept the graceful etymology of your reviewer who calls me to task for not knowing how to pronounce the title of my book tuberose and meadowsweet. i insist, he fancifully says, 'on making "tuberose" a trisyllable always, as if it were a potato blossom and not a flower shaped like a tiny trumpet of ivory.' alas! tuberose is a trisyllable if properly derived from the latin tuberosus, the lumpy flower, having nothing to do with roses or with trumpets of ivory in name any more than in nature. i am reminded by a great living poet that another correctly wrote: or as the moonlight fills the open sky struggling with darkness--as a tuberose peoples some indian dell with scents which lie like clouds above the flower from which they rose. in justice to shelley, whose lines i quote, your readers will admit that i have good authority for making a trisyllable of tuberose.--i am, sir, your obedient servant, andre raffalovich. march . parnassus versus philology (pall mall gazette, april , .) to the editor of the pall mall gazette. sir,--i am deeply distressed to hear that tuberose is so called from its being a 'lumpy flower.' it is not at all lumpy, and, even if it were, no poet should be heartless enough to say so. henceforth, there really must be two derivations for every word, one for the poet and one for the scientist. and in the present case the poet will dwell on the tiny trumpets of ivory into which the white flower breaks, and leave to the man of science horrid allusions to its supposed lumpiness and indiscreet revelations of its private life below ground. in fact, 'tuber' as a derivation is disgraceful. on the roots of verbs philology may be allowed to speak, but on the roots of flowers she must keep silence. we cannot allow her to dig up parnassus. and, as regards the word being a trisyllable, i am reminded by a great living poet that another correctly wrote: and the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose, the sweetest flower for scent that blows; and all rare blossoms from every clime grew in that garden in perfect prime. in justice to shelley, whose lines i quote, your readers will admit that i have good authority for making a dissyllable of tuberose.--i am, sir, your obedient servant, the critic, who had to read four volumes of modern poetry. march . hamlet at the lyceum (dramatic review, may , .) it sometimes happens that at a premiere in london the least enjoyable part of the performance is the play. i have seen many audiences more interesting than the actors, and have often heard better dialogue in the foyer than i have on the stage. at the lyceum, however, this is rarely the case, and when the play is a play of shakespeare's, and among its exponents are mr. irving and miss ellen terry, we turn from the gods in the gallery and from the goddesses in the stalls, to enjoy the charm of the production, and to take delight in the art. the lions are behind the footlights and not in front of them when we have a noble tragedy nobly acted. and i have rarely witnessed such enthusiasm as that which greeted on last saturday night the two artists i have mentioned. i would like, in fact, to use the word ovation, but a pedantic professor has recently informed us, with the batavian buoyancy of misapplied learning, that this expression is not to be employed except when a sheep has been sacrificed. at the lyceum last week i need hardly say nothing so dreadful occurred. the only inartistic incident of the evening was the hurling of a bouquet from a box at mr. irving while he was engaged in pourtraying the agony of hamlet's death, and the pathos of his parting with horatio. the dramatic college might take up the education of spectators as well as that of players, and teach people that there is a proper moment for the throwing of flowers as well as a proper method. as regards mr. irving's own performance, it has been already so elaborately criticised and described, from his business with the supposed pictures in the closet scene down to his use of 'peacock' for 'paddock,' that little remains to be said; nor, indeed, does a lyceum audience require the interposition of the dramatic critic in order to understand or to appreciate the hamlet of this great actor. i call him a great actor because he brings to the interpretation of a work of art the two qualities which we in this century so much desire, the qualities of personality and of perfection. a few years ago it seemed to many, and perhaps rightly, that the personality overshadowed the art. no such criticism would be fair now. the somewhat harsh angularity of movement and faulty pronunciation have been replaced by exquisite grace of gesture and clear precision of word, where such precision is necessary. for delightful as good elocution is, few things are so depressing as to hear a passionate passage recited instead of being acted. the quality of a fine performance is its life more than its learning, and every word in a play has a musical as well as an intellectual value, and must be made expressive of a certain emotion. so it does not seem to me that in all parts of a play perfect pronunciation is necessarily dramatic. when the words are 'wild and whirling,' the expression of them must be wild and whirling also. mr. irving, i think, manages his voice with singular art; it was impossible to discern a false note or wrong intonation in his dialogue or his soliloquies, and his strong dramatic power, his realistic power as an actor, is as effective as ever. a great critic at the beginning of this century said that hamlet is the most difficult part to personate on the stage, that it is like the attempt to 'embody a shadow.' i cannot say that i agree with this idea. hamlet seems to me essentially a good acting part, and in mr. irving's performance of it there is that combination of poetic grace with absolute reality which is so eternally delightful. indeed, if the words easy and difficult have any meaning at all in matters of art, i would be inclined to say that ophelia is the more difficult part. she has, i mean, less material by which to produce her effects. she is the occasion of the tragedy, but she is neither its heroine nor its chief victim. she is swept away by circumstances, and gives the opportunity for situation, of which she is not herself the climax, and which she does not herself command. and of all the parts which miss terry has acted in her brilliant career, there is none in which her infinite powers of pathos and her imaginative and creative faculty are more shown than in her ophelia. miss terry is one of those rare artists who needs for her dramatic effect no elaborate dialogue, and for whom the simplest words are sufficient. 'i love you not,' says hamlet, and all that ophelia answers is, 'i was the more deceived.' these are not very grand words to read, but as miss terry gave them in acting they seemed to be the highest possible expression of ophelia's character. beautiful, too, was the quick remorse she conveyed by her face and gesture the moment she had lied to hamlet and told him her father was at home. this i thought a masterpiece of good acting, and her mad scene was wonderful beyond all description. the secrets of melpomene are known to miss terry as well as the secrets of thalia. as regards the rest of the company there is always a high standard at the lyceum, but some particular mention should be made of mr. alexander's brilliant performance of laertes. mr. alexander has a most effective presence, a charming voice, and a capacity for wearing lovely costumes with ease and elegance. indeed, in the latter respect his only rival was mr. norman forbes, who played either guildenstern or rosencrantz very gracefully. i believe one of our budding hazlitts is preparing a volume to be entitled 'great guildensterns and remarkable rosencrantzes,' but i have never been able myself to discern any difference between these two characters. they are, i think, the only characters shakespeare has not cared to individualise. whichever of the two, however, mr. forbes acted, he acted it well. only one point in mr. alexander's performance seemed to me open to question, that was his kneeling during the whole of polonius's speech. for this i see no necessity at all, and it makes the scene look less natural than it should--gives it, i mean, too formal an air. however, the performance was most spirited and gave great pleasure to every one. mr. alexander is an artist from whom much will be expected, and i have no doubt he will give us much that is fine and noble. he seems to have all the qualifications for a good actor. there is just one other character i should like to notice. the first player seemed to me to act far too well. he should act very badly. the first player, besides his position in the dramatic evolution of the tragedy, is shakespeare's caricature of the ranting actor of his day, just as the passage he recites is shakespeare's own parody on the dull plays of some of his rivals. the whole point of hamlet's advice to the players seems to me to be lost unless the player himself has been guilty of the fault which hamlet reprehends, unless he has sawn the air with his hand, mouthed his lines, torn his passion to tatters, and out-heroded herod. the very sensibility which hamlet notices in the actor, such as his real tears and the like, is not the quality of a good artist. the part should be played after the manner of a provincial tragedian. it is meant to be a satire, and to play it well is to play it badly. the scenery and costumes were excellent with the exception of the king's dress, which was coarse in colour and tawdry in effect. and the player queen should have come in boy's attire to elsinore. however, last saturday night was not a night for criticism. the theatre was filled with those who desired to welcome mr. irving back to his own theatre, and we were all delighted at his re-appearance among us. i hope that some time will elapse before he and miss terry cross again that disappointing atlantic ocean. two new novels (pall mall gazette, may , .) the clever authoress of in the golden days has chosen for the scene of her story the england of two centuries ago, as a relief, she tells us in her preface, 'from perpetual nineteenth-centuryism.' upon the other hand, she makes a pathetic appeal to her readers not to regard her book as an 'historical novel,' on the ground that such a title strikes terror into the public. this seems to us rather a curious position to take up. esmond and notre dame are historical novels, both of them, and both of them popular successes. john inglesant and romola have gone through many editions, and even salammbo has its enthusiasts. we think that the public is very fond of historical novels, and as for perpetual 'nineteenth-centuryism'--a vile phrase, by the way--we only wish that more of our english novelists studied our age and its society than do so at present. however, in the golden days must not be judged by its foolish preface. it is really a very charming book, and though dryden, betterton, and wills's coffee-house are dragged in rather a propos de bottes, still the picture of the time is well painted. joyce, the little puritan maiden, is an exquisite creation, and hugo wharncliffe, her lover, makes a fine hero. the sketch of algernon sidney is rather colourless, but charles ii. is well drawn. it seems to be a novel with a high purpose and a noble meaning. yet it is never dull. mrs. macquoid's louisa is modern and the scene is in italy. italy, we fear, has been a good deal overdone in fiction. a little more piccadilly and a little less perugia would be a relief. however, the story is interesting. a young english girl marries an italian nobleman and, after some time, being bored with picturesqueness, falls in love with an englishman. the story is told with a great deal of power and ends properly and pleasantly. it can safely be recommended to young persons. ( ) in the golden days. by edna lyall, author of we two, donovan, etc. (hurst and blackett.) ( ) louisa. by katherine s. macquoid. (bentley and son.) henry the fourth at oxford (dramatic review, may , .) i have been told that the ambition of every dramatic club is to act henry iv. i am not surprised. the spirit of comedy is as fervent in this play as is the spirit of chivalry; it is an heroic pageant as well as an heroic poem, and like most of shakespeare's historical dramas it contains an extraordinary number of thoroughly good acting parts, each of which is absolutely individual in character, and each of which contributes to the evolution of the plot. rumour, from time to time, has brought in tidings of a proposed production by the banks of the cam, but it seems at the last moment box and cox has always had to be substituted in the bill. to oxford belongs the honour of having been the first to present on the stage this noble play, and the production which i saw last week was in every way worthy of that lovely town, that mother of sweetness and of light. for, in spite of the roaring of the young lions at the union, and the screaming of the rabbits in the home of the vivisector, in spite of keble college, and the tramways, and the sporting prints, oxford still remains the most beautiful thing in england, and nowhere else are life and art so exquisitely blended, so perfectly made one. indeed, in most other towns art has often to present herself in the form of a reaction against the sordid ugliness of ignoble lives, but at oxford she comes to us as an exquisite flower born of the beauty of life and expressive of life's joy. she finds her home by the isis as once she did by the ilissus; the magdalen walks and the magdalen cloisters are as dear to her as were ever the silver olives of colonus and the golden gateway of the house of pallas: she covers with fanlike tracery the vaulted entrance to christ church hall, and looks out from the windows of merton; her feet have stirred the cumnor cowslips, and she gathers fritillaries in the river-fields. to her the clamour of the schools and the dulness of the lecture-room are a weariness and a vexation of spirit; she seeks not to define virtue, and cares little for the categories; she smiles on the swift athlete whose plastic grace has pleased her, and rejoices in the young barbarians at their games; she watches the rowers from the reedy bank and gives myrtle to her lovers, and laurel to her poets, and rue to those who talk wisely in the street; she makes the earth lovely to all who dream with keats; she opens high heaven to all who soar with shelley; and turning away her head from pedant, proctor and philistine, she has welcomed to her shrine a band of youthful actors, knowing that they have sought with much ardour for the stern secret of melpomene, and caught with much gladness the sweet laughter of thalia. and to me this ardour and this gladness were the two most fascinating qualities of the oxford performance, as indeed they are qualities which are necessary to any fine dramatic production. for without quick and imaginative observation of life the most beautiful play becomes dull in presentation, and what is not conceived in delight by the actor can give no delight at all to others. i know that there are many who consider that shakespeare is more for the study than for the stage. with this view i do not for a moment agree. shakespeare wrote the plays to be acted, and we have no right to alter the form which he himself selected for the full expression of his work. indeed, many of the beauties of that work can be adequately conveyed to us only through the actor's art. as i sat in the town hall of oxford the other night, the majesty of the mighty lines of the play seemed to me to gain new music from the clear young voices that uttered them, and the ideal grandeur of the heroism to be made more real to the spectators by the chivalrous bearing, the noble gesture and the fine passion of its exponents. even the dresses had their dramatic value. their archaeological accuracy gave us, immediately on the rise of the curtain, a perfect picture of the time. as the knights and nobles moved across the stage in the flowing robes of peace and in the burnished steel of battle, we needed no dreary chorus to tell us in what age or land the play's action was passing, for the fifteenth century in all the dignity and grace of its apparel was living actually before us, and the delicate harmonies of colour struck from the first a dominant note of beauty which added to the intellectual realism of archaeology the sensuous charm of art. as for individual actors, mr. mackinnon's prince hal was a most gay and graceful performance, lit here and there with charming touches of princely dignity and of noble feeling. mr. coleridge's falstaff was full of delightful humour, though perhaps at times he did not take us sufficiently into his confidence. an audience looks at a tragedian, but a comedian looks at his audience. however, he gave much pleasure to every one, and mr. bourchier's hotspur was really most remarkable. mr. bourchier has a fine stage presence, a beautiful voice, and produces his effects by a method as dramatically impressive as it is artistically right. once or twice he seemed to me to spoil his last line by walking through it. the part of harry percy is one full of climaxes which must not be let slip. but still there was always a freedom and spirit in his style which was very pleasing, and his delivery of the colloquial passages i thought excellent, notably of that in the first act: what d' ye call the place? a plague upon't--it is in gloucestershire; 'twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, his uncle york; lines by the way in which kemble made a great effect. mr. bourchier has the opportunity of a fine career on the english stage, and i hope he will take advantage of it. among the minor parts in the play glendower, mortimer and sir richard vernon were capitally acted, worcester was a performance of some subtlety, mrs. woods was a charming lady percy, and lady edward spencer churchill, as mortimer's wife, made us all believe that we understood welsh. her dialogue and her song were most pleasing bits of artistic realism which fully accounted for the celtic chair at oxford. but though i have mentioned particular actors, the real value of the whole representation was to be found in its absolute unity, in its delicate sense of proportion, and in that breadth of effect which is to be got only by the most careful elaboration of detail. i have rarely seen a production better stage-managed. indeed, i hope that the university will take some official notice of this delightful work of art. why should not degrees be granted for good acting? are they not given to those who misunderstand plato and who mistranslate aristotle? and should the artist be passed over? no. to prince hal, hotspur and falstaff, d.c.l.'s should be gracefully offered. i feel sure they would be gracefully accepted. to the rest of the company the crimson or the sheep- skin hood might be assigned honoris causa to the eternal confusion of the philistine, and the rage of the industrious and the dull. thus would oxford confer honour on herself, and the artist be placed in his proper position. however, whether or not convocation recognises the claims of culture, i hope that the oxford dramatic society will produce every summer for us some noble play like henry iv. for, in plays of this kind, plays which deal with bygone times, there is always this peculiar charm, that they combine in one exquisite presentation the passions that are living with the picturesqueness that is dead. and when we have the modern spirit given to us in an antique form, the very remoteness of that form can be made a method of increased realism. this was shakespeare's own attitude towards the ancient world, this is the attitude we in this century should adopt towards his plays, and with a feeling akin to this it seemed to me that these brilliant young oxonians were working. if it was so, their aim is the right one. for while we look to the dramatist to give romance to realism, we ask of the actor to give realism to romance. modern greek poetry (pall mall gazette, may , .) odysseus, not achilles, is the type of the modern greek. merchandise has taken precedence of the muses and politics are preferred to parnassus. yet by the illissus there are sweet singers; the nightingales are not silent in colonus; and from the garden of greek nineteenth-century poetry miss edmonds has made a very pleasing anthology; and in pouring the wine from the golden into the silver cup she has still kept much of the beauty of the original. even when translated into english, modern greek lyrics are preferable to modern greek loans. as regards the quality of this poetry, if the old greek spirit can be traced at all, it is the spirit of tyrtaeus and of theocritus. the warlike ballads of rhigas and aristotle valaorites have a fine ring of music and of passion in them, and the folk-songs of george drosines are full of charming pictures of rustic life and delicate idylls of shepherds' courtships. these we acknowledge that we prefer. the flutes of the sheepfold are more delightful than the clarions of battle. still, poetry played such a noble part in the greek war of independence that it is impossible not to look with reverence on the spirited war-songs that meant so much to those who were righting for liberty and mean so much even now to their children. other poets besides drosines have taken the legends that linger among the peasants and given to them an artistic form. the song of the seasons is full of beauty, and there is a delightful poem on the building of st. sophia, which tells how the design of that noble building was suggested by the golden honeycomb of a bee which had flown from the king's palace with a crumb of blessed bread that had fallen from the king's hands. the story is still to be found in thrace. one of the ballads, also, has a good deal of spirit. it is by kostes palamas and was suggested by an interesting incident which occurred some years ago in athens. in the summer of there was borne through the streets the remains of an aged woman in the complete costume of a pallikar, which dress she had worn at the siege of missolonghi and in it had requested to be buried. the life of this real greek heroine should be studied by those who are investigating the question of wherein womanliness consists. the view the poet takes of her is, we need hardly say, very different from that which canon liddon would entertain. yet it is none the less fine on this account, and we are glad that this old lady has been given a place in art. the volume is, on the whole, delightful reading, and though not much can be said for lines like these: there _cometh_ from the west the timid starry _bands_, still, the translations are in many instances most felicitous and their style most pleasing. greek lays, idylls, legends, etc. translated by e. m. edmonds. (trubner and co.) olivia at the lyceum (dramatic review, may , .) whether or not it is an advantage for a novel to be produced in a dramatic form is, i think, open to question. the psychological analysis of such work as that of mr. george meredith, for instance, would probably lose by being transmuted into the passionate action of the stage, nor does m. zola's formule scientifique gain anything at all by theatrical presentation. with goldsmith it is somewhat different. in the vicar of wakefield he seeks simply to please his readers, and desires not to prove a theory; he looks on life rather as a picture to be painted than as a problem to be solved; his aim is to create men and women more than to vivisect them; his dialogue is essentially dramatic, and his novel seems to pass naturally into the dramatic form. and to me there is something very pleasurable in seeing and studying the same subject under different conditions of art. for life remains eternally unchanged; it is art which, by presenting it to us under various forms, enables us to realise its many-sided mysteries, and to catch the quality of its most fiery-coloured moments. the originality, i mean, which we ask from the artist, is originality of treatment, not of subject. it is only the unimaginative who ever invents. the true artist is known by the use he makes of what he annexes, and he annexes everything. looking in this light at mr. wills's olivia, it seems to me a very exquisite work of art. indeed, i know no other dramatist who could have re-told this beautiful english tale with such tenderness and such power, neither losing the charm of the old story nor forgetting the conditions of the new form. the sentiment of the poet and the science of the playwright are exquisitely balanced in it. for though in prose it is a poem, and while a poem it is also a play. but fortunate as mr. wills has been in the selection of his subject and in his treatment of it, he is no less fortunate in the actors who interpret his work. to whatever character miss terry plays she brings the infinite charm of her beauty, and the marvellous grace of her movements and gestures. it is impossible to escape from the sweet tyranny of her personality. she dominates her audience by the secret of cleopatra. in her olivia, however, it is not merely her personality that fascinates us but her power also, her power over pathos, and her command of situation. the scene in which she bade goodbye to her family was touching beyond any scene i remember in any modern play, yet no harsh or violent note was sounded; and when in the succeeding act she struck, in natural and noble indignation, the libertine who had betrayed her, there was, i think, no one in the theatre who did not recognise that in miss terry our stage possesses a really great artist, who can thrill an audience without harrowing it, and by means that seem simple and easy can produce the finest dramatic effect. mr. irving, as dr. primrose, intensified the beautiful and blind idolatry of the old pastor for his daughter till his own tragedy seems almost greater than hers; the scene in the third act, where he breaks down in his attempt to reprove the lamb that has strayed from the fold, was a masterpiece of fine acting; and the whole performance, while carefully elaborate in detail, was full of breadth and dignity. i acknowledge that i liked him least at the close of the second act. it seems to me that here we should be made to feel not merely the passionate rage of the father, but the powerlessness of the old man. the taking down of the pistols, and the attempt to follow the young duellist, are pathetic because they are useless, and i hardly think that mr. irving conveyed this idea. as regards the rest of the characters, mr. terriss's squire thornhill was an admirable picture of a fascinating young rake. indeed, it was so fascinating that the moral equilibrium of the audience was quite disturbed, and nobody seemed to care very much for the virtuous mr. burchell. i was not sorry to see this triumph of the artistic over the ethical sympathy. perfect heroes are the monsters of melodramas, and have no place in dramatic art. life possibly contains them, but parnassus often rejects what peckham may welcome. i look forward to a reaction in favour of the cultured criminal. mr. norman forbes was a very pleasing moses, and gave his latin quotations charmingly, miss emery's sophy was most winning, and, indeed, every part seemed to me well acted except that of the virtuous mr. burchell. this fact, however, rather pleased me than otherwise, as it increased the charm of his attractive nephew. the scenery and costumes were excellent, as indeed they always are at the lyceum when the piece is produced under mr. irving's direction. the first scene was really very beautiful, and quite as good as the famous cherry orchard of the theatre francais. a critic who posed as an authority on field sports assured me that no one ever went out hunting when roses were in full bloom. personally, that is exactly the season i would select for the chase, but then i know more about flowers than i do about foxes, and like them much better. if the critic was right, either the roses must wither or squire thornhill must change his coat. a more serious objection may be brought against the division of the last act into three scenes. there, i think, there was a distinct dramatic loss. the room to which olivia returns should have been exactly the same room she had left. as a picture of the eighteenth century, however, the whole production was admirable, and the details, both of acting and of mise-en- scene, wonderfully perfect. i wish olivia would take off her pretty mittens when her fortune is being told. cheiromancy is a science which deals almost entirely with the lines on the palm of the hand, and mittens would seriously interfere with its mysticism. still, when all is said, how easily does this lovely play, this artistic presentation, survive criticisms founded on cheiromancy and cub-hunting! the lyceum under mr. irving's management has become a centre of art. we are all of us in his debt. i trust that we may see some more plays by living dramatists produced at his theatre, for olivia has been exquisitely mounted and exquisitely played. as you like it at coombe house (dramatic review, june , .) in theophile gautier's first novel, that golden book of spirit and sense, that holy writ of beauty, there is a most fascinating account of an amateur performance of as you like it in the large orangery of a french country house. yet, lovely as gautier's description is, the real presentation of the play last week at coombe seemed to me lovelier still, for not merely were there present in it all those elements of poetry and picturesqueness which le maitre impeccable so desired, but to them was added also the exquisite charm of the open woodland and the delightful freedom of the open air. nor indeed could the pastoral players have made a more fortunate selection of a play. a tragedy under the same conditions would have been impossible. for tragedy is the exaggeration of the individual, and nature thinks nothing of dwarfing a hero by a holly bush, and reducing a heroine to a mere effect of colour. the subtleties also of facial expression are in the open air almost entirely lost; and while this would be a serious defect in the presentation of a play which deals immediately with psychology, in the case of a comedy, where the situations predominate over the characters, we do not feel it nearly so much; and shakespeare himself seems to have clearly recognised this difference, for while he had hamlet and macbeth always played by artificial light he acted as you like it and the rest of his comedies en plein jour. the condition then under which this comedy was produced by lady archibald campbell and mr. godwin did not place any great limitations on the actor's art, and increased tenfold the value of the play as a picture. through an alley of white hawthorn and gold laburnum we passed into the green pavilion that served as the theatre, the air sweet with odour of the lilac and with the blackbird's song; and when the curtain fell into its trench of flowers, and the play commenced, we saw before us a real forest, and we knew it to be arden. for with whoop and shout, up through the rustling fern came the foresters trooping, the banished duke took his seat beneath the tall elm, and as his lords lay around him on the grass, the rich melody of shakespeare's blank verse began to reach our ears. and all through the performance this delightful sense of joyous woodland life was sustained, and even when the scene was left empty for the shepherd to drive his flock across the sward, or for rosalind to school orlando in love-making, far away we could hear the shrill halloo of the hunter, and catch now and then the faint music of some distant horn. one distinct dramatic advantage was gained by the mise en scene. the abrupt exits and entrances, which are necessitated on the real stage by the inevitable limitations of space, were in many cases done away with, and we saw the characters coming gradually towards us through brake and underwood, or passing away down the slope till they were lost in some deep recess of the forest; the effect of distance thus gained being largely increased by the faint wreaths of blue mist that floated at times across the background. indeed i never saw an illustration at once so perfect and so practical of the aesthetic value of smoke. as for the players themselves, the pleasing naturalness of their method harmonised delightfully with their natural surroundings. those of them who were amateurs were too artistic to be stagey, and those who were actors too experienced to be artificial. the humorous sadness of jaques, that philosopher in search of sensation, found a perfect exponent in mr. hermann vezin. touchstone has been so often acted as a low comedy part that mr. elliott's rendering of the swift sententious fool was a welcome change, and a more graceful and winning phebe than mrs. plowden, a more tender celia than miss schletter, a more realistic audrey than miss fulton, i have never seen. rosalind suffered a good deal through the omission of the first act; we saw, i mean, more of the saucy boy than we did of the noble girl; and though the persiflage always told, the poetry was often lost; still miss calhoun gave much pleasure; and lady archibald campbell's orlando was a really remarkable performance. too melancholy some seemed to think it. yet is not orlando lovesick? too dreamy, i heard it said. yet orlando is a poet. and even admitting that the vigour of the lad who tripped up the duke's wrestler was hardly sufficiently emphasised, still in the low music of lady archibald campbell's voice, and in the strange beauty of her movements and gestures, there was a wonderful fascination, and the visible presence of romance quite consoled me for the possible absence of robustness. among the other characters should be mentioned mr. claude ponsonby's first lord, mr. de cordova's corin (a bit of excellent acting), and the silvius of mr. webster. as regards the costumes the colour scheme was very perfect. brown and green were the dominant notes, and yellow was most artistically used. there were, however, two distinct discords. touchstone's motley was far too glaring, and the crude white of rosalind's bridal raiment in the last act was absolutely displeasing. a contrast may be striking but should never be harsh. and lovely in colour as mrs. plowden's dress was, a sort of panegyric on a pansy, i am afraid that in shakespeare's arden there were no chelsea china shepherdesses, and i am sure that the romance of phebe does not need to be intensified by any reminiscences of porcelain. still, as you like it has probably never been so well mounted, nor costumes worn with more ease and simplicity. not the least charming part of the whole production was the music, which was under the direction of the rev. arthur batson. the boys' voices were quite exquisite, and mr. walsham sang with much spirit. on the whole the pastoral players are to be warmly congratulated on the success of their representation, and to the artistic sympathies of lady archibald campbell, and the artistic knowledge of mr. godwin, i am indebted for a most delightful afternoon. few things are so pleasurable as to be able by an hour's drive to exchange piccadilly for parnassus. a handbook to marriage (pall mall gazette, november , .) in spite of its somewhat alarming title this book may be highly recommended to every one. as for the authorities the author quotes, they are almost numberless, and range from socrates down to artemus ward. he tells us of the wicked bachelor who spoke of marriage as 'a very harmless amusement' and advised a young friend of his to 'marry early and marry often'; of dr. johnson who proposed that marriage should be arranged by the lord chancellor, without the parties concerned having any choice in the matter; of the sussex labourer who asked, 'why should i give a woman half my victuals for cooking the other half?' and of lord verulam who thought that unmarried men did the best public work. and, indeed, marriage is the one subject on which all women agree and all men disagree. our author, however, is clearly of the same opinion as the scotch lassie who, on her father warning her what a solemn thing it was to get married, answered, 'i ken that, father, but it's a great deal solemner to be single.' he may be regarded as the champion of the married life. indeed, he has a most interesting chapter on marriage-made men, and though he dissents, and we think rightly, from the view recently put forward by a lady or two on the women's rights platform that solomon owed all his wisdom to the number of his wives, still he appeals to bismarck, john stuart mill, mahommed and lord beaconsfield, as instances of men whose success can be traced to the influence of the women they married. archbishop whately once defined woman as 'a creature that does not reason and pokes the fire from the top,' but since his day the higher education of women has considerably altered their position. women have always had an emotional sympathy with those they love; girton and newnham have rendered intellectual sympathy also possible. in our day it is best for a man to be married, and men must give up the tyranny in married life which was once so dear to them, and which, we are afraid, lingers still, here and there. 'do you wish to be my wife, mabel?' said a little boy. 'yes,' incautiously answered mabel. 'then pull off my boots.' on marriage vows our author has, too, very sensible views and very amusing stories. he tells of a nervous bridegroom who, confusing the baptismal and marriage ceremonies, replied when asked if he consented to take the bride for his wife: 'i renounce them all'; of a hampshire rustic who, when giving the ring, said solemnly to the bride: 'with my body i thee wash up, and with all my hurdle goods i thee and thou'; of another who, when asked whether he would take his partner to be his wedded wife, replied with shameful indecision: 'yes, i'm willin'; but i'd a sight rather have her sister'; and of a scotch lady who, on the occasion of her daughter's wedding, was asked by an old friend whether she might congratulate her on the event, and answered: 'yes, yes, upon the whole it is very satisfactory; it is true jeannie hates her gudeman, but then there's always a something!' indeed, the good stories contained in this book are quite endless and make it very pleasant reading, while the good advice is on all points admirable. most young married people nowadays start in life with a dreadful collection of ormolu inkstands covered with sham onyxes, or with a perfect museum of salt-cellars. we strongly recommend this book as one of the best of wedding presents. it is a complete handbook to an earthly paradise, and its author may be regarded as the murray of matrimony and the baedeker of bliss. how to be happy though married: being a handbook to marriage. by a graduate in the university of matrimony. (t. fisher unwin.) half-hours with the worst authors (pall mall gazette, january , .) i am very much pleased to see that you are beginning to call attention to the extremely slipshod and careless style of our ordinary magazine-writers. will you allow me to refer your readers to an article on borrow, in the current number of macmillan, which exemplifies very clearly the truth of your remarks? the author of the article is mr. george saintsbury, a gentleman who has recently written a book on prose style, and here are some specimens of the prose of the future according to the systeme saintsbury: . he saw the rise, and, _in some instances, the death, of tennyson_, thackeray, macaulay, carlyle, dickens. . _see a place_ which kingsley, _or_ mr. ruskin, _or_ some other master of our decorative school, _have_ described--_much more_ one which has fallen into the hands of the small fry of their imitators--and you are almost sure to find that _it has been overdone_. . the great mass of his translations, published and unpublished, and the smaller mass of his early hackwork, no doubt _deserves_ judicious excerption. . 'the romany rye' _did not appear_ for six years, _that is to say, in_ . . the elaborate apparatus which most prose tellers of fantastic tales _use_, and generally _fail in using_. . the great writers, whether they try to be like other people or try not to be like them (_and sometimes in the first case most of all_), succeed _only_ in being themselves. . if he had a slight _overdose_ of celtic blood and celtic-peculiarity, it was _more than made up_ by the readiness of literary expression which it gave him. he, if any one, bore an english heart, though, _as there often has been_, there was something perhaps more than english as well as less than it in his fashion of expression. . his flashes of ethical reflection, which, though like _all_ ethical reflections _often_ one-sided. . he certainly was an _unfriend_ to whiggery. . _that it contains_ a great deal of quaint and piquant writing _is only to say_ that its writer wrote it. . 'wild wales,' too, because of _its_ easy and direct _opportunity_ of comparing its description with the originals. . the capital _and_ full-length portraits. . whose attraction is _one_ neither mainly nor in any very great degree one of pure form. . _constantly right in general_. these are merely a few examples of the style of mr. saintsbury, a writer who seems quite ignorant of the commonest laws both of grammar and of literary expression, who has apparently no idea of the difference between the pronouns 'this' and 'that,' and has as little hesitation in ending the clause of a sentence with a preposition, as he has in inserting a parenthesis between a preposition and its object, a mistake of which the most ordinary schoolboy would be ashamed. and why can not our magazine- writers use plain, simple english? _unfriend_, quoted above, is a quite unnecessary archaism, and so is such a phrase as _with this borrow could not away_, in the sense of 'this borrow could not endure.' 'borrow's _abstraction_ from general society' may, i suppose, pass muster. pope talks somewhere of a hermit's 'abstraction,' but what is the meaning of saying that the author of lavengro _quartered_ castile and leon 'in the most interesting manner, riding everywhere with his servant'? and what defence can be made for such an expression as 'scott, and other _black beasts_ of borrow's'? black beast for bete noire is really abominable. the object of my letter, however, is not to point out the deficiencies of mr. saintsbury's style, but to express my surprise that his article should have been admitted into the pages of a magazine like macmillan's. surely it does not require much experience to know that such an article is a disgrace even to magazine literature. george borrow. by george saintsbury. (macmillan's magazine, january .) one of mr. conway's remainders (pall mall gazette, february , .) most people know that in the concoction of a modern novel crime is a more important ingredient than culture. mr. hugh conway certainly knew it, and though for cleverness of invention and ingenuity of construction he cannot be compared to m. gaboriau, that master of murder and its mysteries, still he fully recognised the artistic value of villainy. his last novel, a cardinal sin, opens very well. mr. philip bourchier, m.p. for westshire and owner of redhills, is travelling home from london in a first-class railway carriage when, suddenly, through the window enters a rough-looking middle-aged man brandishing a long-lost marriage certificate, the effect of which is to deprive the right honourable member of his property and estate. however, mr. bourchier, m.p., is quite equal to the emergency. on the arrival of the train at its destination, he invites the unwelcome intruder to drive home with him and, reaching a lonely road, shoots him through the head and gives information to the nearest magistrate that he has rid society of a dangerous highwayman. mr. bourchier is brought to trial and triumphantly acquitted. so far, everything goes well with him. unfortunately, however, the murdered man, with that superhuman strength which on the stage and in novels always accompanies the agony of death, had managed in falling from the dog-cart to throw the marriage certificate up a fir tree! there it is found by a worthy farmer who talks that conventional rustic dialect which, though unknown in the provinces, is such a popular element in every adelphi melodrama; and it ultimately falls into the hands of an unscrupulous young man who succeeds in blackmailing mr. bourchier and in marrying his daughter. mr. bourchier suffers tortures from excess of chloral and of remorse; and there is psychology of a weird and wonderful kind, that kind which mr. conway may justly be said to have invented and the result of which is not to be underrated. for, if to raise a goose skin on the reader be the aim of art, mr. conway must be regarded as a real artist. so harrowing is his psychology that the ordinary methods of punctuation are quite inadequate to convey it. agony and asterisks follow each other on every page and, as the murderer's conscience sinks deeper into chaos, the chaos of commas increases. finally, mr. bourchier dies, splendide mendax to the end. a confession, he rightly argued, would break up the harmony of the family circle, particularly as his eldest son had married the daughter of his luckless victim. few criminals are so thoughtful for others as mr. bourchier is, and we are not without admiration for the unselfishness of one who can give up the luxury of a death-bed repentance. a cardinal sin, then, on the whole, may be regarded as a crude novel of a common melodramatic type. what is painful about it is its style, which is slipshod and careless. to describe a honeymoon as a _rare occurrence in any one person's life_ is rather amusing. there is an american story of a young couple who had to be married by telephone, as the bridegroom lived in nebraska and the bride in new york, and they had to go on separate honeymoons; though, perhaps, this is not what mr. conway meant. but what can be said for a sentence like this?--'the established favourites in the musical world are never quite sure but the _new comer_ may not be _one among the many they have seen fail_'; or this?--'as it is the fate of such a very small number of men to marry a prima donna, i shall be doing little harm, _or be likely to change plans of life_, by enumerating some of the disadvantages.' the nineteenth century may be a prosaic age, but we fear that, if we are to judge by the general run of novels, it is not an age of prose. a cardinal sin. by hugh conway. (remington and co.) to read or not to read (pall mall gazette, february , .) books, i fancy, may be conveniently divided into three classes:-- . books to read, such as cicero's letters, suetonius, vasari's lives of the painters, the autobiography of benvenuto cellini, sir john mandeville, marco polo, st. simon's memoirs, mommsen, and (till we get a better one) grote's history of greece. . books to re-read, such as plato and keats: in the sphere of poetry, the masters not the minstrels; in the sphere of philosophy, the seers not the savants. . books not to read at all, such as thomson's seasons, rogers's italy, paley's evidences, all the fathers except st. augustine, all john stuart mill except the essay on liberty, all voltaire's plays without any exception, butler's analogy, grant's aristotle, hume's england, lewes's history of philosophy, all argumentative books and all books that try to prove anything. the third class is by far the most important. to tell people what to read is, as a rule, either useless or harmful; for, the appreciation of literature is a question of temperament not of teaching; to parnassus there is no primer and nothing that one can learn is ever worth learning. but to tell people what not to read is a very different matter, and i venture to recommend it as a mission to the university extension scheme. indeed, it is one that is eminently needed in this age of ours, an age that reads so much, that it has no time to admire, and writes so much, that it has no time to think. whoever will select out of the chaos of our modern curricula 'the worst hundred books,' and publish a list of them, will confer on the rising generation a real and lasting benefit. after expressing these views i suppose i should not offer any suggestions at all with regard to 'the best hundred books,' but i hope you will allow me the pleasure of being inconsistent, as i am anxious to put in a claim for a book that has been strangely omitted by most of the excellent judges who have contributed to your columns. i mean the greek anthology. the beautiful poems contained in this collection seem to me to hold the same position with regard to greek dramatic literature as do the delicate little figurines of tanagra to the phidian marbles, and to be quite as necessary for the complete understanding of the greek spirit. i am also amazed to find that edgar allan poe has been passed over. surely this marvellous lord of rhythmic expression deserves a place? if, in order to make room for him, it be necessary to elbow out some one else, i should elbow out southey, and i think that baudelaire might be most advantageously substituted for keble. no doubt, both in the curse of kehama and in the christian year there are poetic qualities of a certain kind, but absolute catholicity of taste is not without its dangers. it is only an auctioneer who should admire all schools of art. twelfth night at oxford (dramatic review, february , .) on saturday last the new theatre at oxford was opened by the university dramatic society. the play selected was shakespeare's delightful comedy of twelfth night, a play eminently suitable for performance by a club, as it contains so many good acting parts. shakespeare's tragedies may be made for a single star, but his comedies are made for a galaxy of constellations. in the first he deals with the pathos of the individual, in the second he gives us a picture of life. the oxford undergraduates, then, are to be congratulated on the selection of the play, and the result fully justified their choice. mr. bourchier as festa the clown was easy, graceful and joyous, as fanciful as his dress and as funny as his bauble. the beautiful songs which shakespeare has assigned to this character were rendered by him as charmingly as they were dramatically. to act singing is quite as great an art as to sing. mr. letchmere stuart was a delightful sir andrew, and gave much pleasure to the audience. one may hate the villains of shakespeare, but one cannot help loving his fools. mr. macpherson was, perhaps, hardly equal to such an immortal part as that of sir toby belch, though there was much that was clever in his performance. mr. lindsay threw new and unexpected light on the character of fabian, and mr. clark's malvolio was a most remarkable piece of acting. what a difficult part malvolio is! shakespeare undoubtedly meant us to laugh all through at the pompous steward, and to join in the practical joke upon him, and yet how impossible not to feel a good deal of sympathy with him! perhaps in this century we are too altruistic to be really artistic. hazlitt says somewhere that poetical justice is done him in the uneasiness which olivia suffers on account of her mistaken attachment to orsino, as her insensibility to the violence of the duke's passion is atoned for by the discovery of viola's concealed love for him; but it is difficult not to feel malvolio's treatment is unnecessarily harsh. mr. clark, however, gave a very clever rendering, full of subtle touches. if i ventured on a bit of advice, which i feel most reluctant to do, it would be to the effect that while one should always study the method of a great artist, one should never imitate his manner. the manner of an artist is essentially individual, the method of an artist is absolutely universal. the first is personality, which no one should copy; the second is perfection, which all should aim at. miss arnold was a most sprightly maria, and miss farmer a dignified olivia; but as viola mrs. bewicke was hardly successful. her manner was too boisterous and her method too modern. where there is violence there is no viola, where there is no illusion there is no illyria, and where there is no style there is no shakespeare. mr. higgins looked the part of sebastian to perfection, and some of the minor characters were excellently played by mr. adderley, mr. king-harman, mr. coningsby disraeli and lord albert osborne. on the whole, the performance reflected much credit on the dramatic society; indeed, its excellence was such that i am led to hope that the university will some day have a theatre of its own, and that proficiency in scene-painting will be regarded as a necessary qualification for the slade professorship. on the stage, literature returns to life and archaeology becomes art. a fine theatre is a temple where all the muses may meet, a second parnassus, and the dramatic spirit, though she has long tarried at cambridge, seems now to be migrating to oxford. thebes did her green unknowing youth engage; she chooses athens in her riper age. the letters of a great woman (pall mall gazette, march , .) of the many collections of letters that have appeared in this century few, if any, can rival for fascination of style and variety of incident the letters of george sand which have recently been translated into english by m. ledos de beaufort. they extend over a space of more than sixty years, from to , in fact, and comprise the first letters of aurore dupin, a child of eight years old, as well as the last letters of george sand, a woman of seventy-two. the very early letters, those of the child and of the young married woman, possess, of course, merely a psychological interest; but from , the date of madame dudevant's separation from her husband and her first entry into paris life, the interest becomes universal, and the literary and political history of france is mirrored in every page. for george sand was an indefatigable correspondent; she longs in one of her letters, it is true, for 'a planet where reading and writing are absolutely unknown,' but still she had a real pleasure in letter-writing. her greatest delight was the communication of ideas, and she is always in the heart of the battle. she discusses pauperism with louis napoleon in his prison at ham, and liberty with armand barbes in his dungeon at vincennes; she writes to lamennais on philosophy, to mazzini on socialism, to lamartine on democracy, and to ledru-rollin on justice. her letters reveal to us not merely the life of a great novelist but the soul of a great woman, of a woman who was one with all the noblest movements of her day and whose sympathy with humanity was boundless absolutely. for the aristocracy of intellect she had always the deepest veneration, but the democracy of suffering touched her more. she preached the regeneration of mankind, not with the noisy ardour of the paid advocate, but with the enthusiasm of the true evangelist. of all the artists of this century she was the most altruistic; she felt every one's misfortunes except her own. her faith never left her; to the end of her life, as she tells us, she was able to believe without illusions. but the people disappointed her a little. she saw that they followed persons not principles, and for 'the great man theory' george sand had no respect. 'proper names are the enemies of principles' is one of her aphorisms. so from her letters are more distinctly literary. she discusses modern realism with flaubert, and play-writing with dumas fils; and protests with passionate vehemence against the doctrine of l'art pour l'art. 'art for the sake of itself is an idle sentence,' she writes; 'art for the sake of truth, for the sake of what is beautiful and good, that is the creed i seek.' and in a delightful letter to m. charles poncy she repeats the same idea very charmingly. 'people say that birds sing for the sake of singing, but i doubt it. they sing their loves and happiness, and in that they are in keeping with nature. but man must do something more, and poets only sing in order to move people and to make them think.' she wanted m. poncy to be the poet of the people and, if good advice were all that had been needed, he would certainly have been the burns of the workshop. she drew out a delightful scheme for a volume to be called songs of all trades and saw the possibilities of making handicrafts poetic. perhaps she valued good intentions in art a little too much, and she hardly understood that art for art's sake is not meant to express the final cause of art but is merely a formula of creation; but, as she herself had scaled parnassus, we must not quarrel at her bringing proletarianism with her. for george sand must be ranked among our poetic geniuses. she regarded the novel as still within the domain of poetry. her heroes are not dead photographs; they are great possibilities. modern novels are dissections; hers are dreams. 'i make popular types,' she writes, 'such as i do no longer see, but such as they should and might be.' for realism, in m. zola's acceptation of the word, she had no admiration. art to her was a mirror that transfigured truths but did not represent realities. hence she could not understand art without personality. 'i am aware,' she writes to flaubert, 'that you are opposed to the exposition of personal doctrine in literature. are you right? does not your opposition proceed rather from a want of conviction than from a principle of aesthetics? if we have any philosophy in our brain it must needs break forth in our writings. but you, as soon as you handle literature, you seem anxious, i know not why, to be another man, the one who must disappear, who annihilates himself and is no more. what a singular mania! what a deficient taste! the worth of our productions depends entirely on our own. besides, if we withhold our own opinions respecting the personages we create, we naturally leave the reader in uncertainty as to the opinion he should himself form of them. that amounts to wishing not to be understood, and the result of this is that the reader gets weary of us and leaves us.' she herself, however, may be said to have suffered from too dominant a personality, and this was the reason of the failure of most of her plays. of the drama in the sense of disinterested presentation she had no idea, and what is the strength and life-blood of her novels is the weakness of her dramatic works. but in the main she was right. art without personality is impossible. and yet the aim of art is not to reveal personality, but to please. this she hardly recognised in her aesthetics, though she realised it in her work. on literary style she has some excellent remarks. she dislikes the extravagances of the romantic school and sees the beauty of simplicity. 'simplicity,' she writes, 'is the most difficult thing to secure in this world: it is the last limit of experience and the last effort of genius.' she hated the slang and argot of paris life, and loved the words used by the peasants in the provinces. 'the provinces,' she remarks, 'preserve the tradition of the original tongue and create but few new words. i feel much respect for the language of the peasantry; in my estimation it is the more correct.' she thought flaubert too much preoccupied with the sense of form, and makes these excellent observations to him--perhaps her best piece of literary criticism. 'you consider the form as the aim, whereas it is but the effect. happy expressions are only the outcome of emotion and emotion itself proceeds from a conviction. we are only moved by that which we ardently believe in.' literary schools she distrusted. individualism was to her the keystone of art as well as of life. 'do not belong to any school: do not imitate any model,' is her advice. yet she never encouraged eccentricity. 'be correct,' she writes to eugene pelletan, 'that is rarer than being eccentric, as the time goes. it is much more common to please by bad taste than to receive the cross of honour.' on the whole, her literary advice is sound and healthy. she never shrieks and she never sneers. she is the incarnation of good sense. and the whole collection of her letters is a perfect treasure-house of suggestions both on art and on politics. the manner of the translation is often rather clumsy, but the matter is always so intensely interesting that we can afford to be charitable. letters of george sand. translated and edited by raphael ledos de beaufort. (ward and downey.) news from parnassus (pall mall gazette, april , .) that most delightful of all french critics, m. edmond scherer, has recently stated in an article on wordsworth that the english read far more poetry than any other european nation. we sincerely hope this may be true, not merely for the sake of the public but for the sake of the poets also. it would be sad indeed if the many volumes of poems that are every year published in london found no readers but the authors themselves and the authors' relations; and the real philanthropist should recognise it as part of his duties to buy every new book of verse that appears. sometimes, we acknowledge, he will be disappointed, often he will be bored; still now and then he will be amply rewarded for his reckless benevolence. mr. george francis armstrong's stories of wicklow, for instance, is most pleasant reading. mr. armstrong is already well known as the author of ugone, king saul and other dramas, and his latest volume shows that the power and passion of his early work has not deserted him. most modern irish poetry is purely political and deals with the wickedness of the landlords and the tories; but mr. armstrong sings of the picturesqueness of erin, not of its politics. he tells us very charmingly of the magic of its mists and the melody of its colour, and draws a most captivating picture of the peasants of the county wicklow, whom he describes as a kindly folk in vale and moor, unvexed with rancours, frank and free in mood and manners--rich with poor attuned in happiest amity: where still the cottage door is wide, the stranger welcomed at the hearth, and pleased the humbler hearts confide still in the friend of gentler birth. the most ambitious poem in the volume is de verdun of darragh. it is at once lyrical and dramatic, and though its manner reminds us of browning and its method of maud, still all through it there is a personal and individual note. mr. armstrong also carefully observes the rules of decorum, and, as he promises his readers in a preface, keeps quite clear of 'the seas of sensual art.' in fact, an elderly maiden lady could read this volume without a blush, a thrill, or even an emotion. dr. goodchild does not possess mr. armstrong's literary touch, but his somnia medici is distinguished by a remarkable quality of forcible and direct expression. the poem that opens his volume, myrrha, or a dialogue on creeds, is quite as readable as a metrical dialogue on creeds could possibly be; and the organ builder is a most romantic story charmingly told. dr. goodchild seems to be an ardent disciple of mr. browning, and though he may not be able to reproduce the virtues of his master, at least he can echo his defects very cleverly. such a verse as-- 'tis the subtle essayal of the jews and judas, such lying lisp might hail a will-o'-the-wisp, a thin somebody--theudas-- is an excellent example of low comedy in poetry. one of the best poems in the book is the ballad of three kingdoms. indeed, if the form were equal to the conception, it would be a delightful work of art; but dr. goodchild, though he may be a master of metres, is not a master of music yet. his verse is often harsh and rugged. on the whole, however, his volume is clever and interesting. mr. keene has not, we believe, a great reputation in england as yet, but in india he seems to be well known. from a collection of criticisms appended to his volume it appears that the overland mail has christened him the laureate of hindostan and that the allahabad pioneer once compared him to keats. he is a pleasant rhymer, as rhymers go, and, though we strongly object to his putting the song of solomon into bad blank verse, still we are quite ready to admire his translations of the pervigilium veneris and of omar khayyam. we wish he would not write sonnets with fifteen lines. a fifteen-line sonnet is as bad a monstrosity as a sonnet in dialogue. the volume has the merit of being very small, and contains many stanzas quite suitable for valentines. finally we come to procris and other poems, by mr. w. g. hole. mr. hole is apparently a very young writer. his work, at least, is full of crudities, his syntax is defective, and his grammar is questionable. and yet, when all is said, in the one poem of procris it is easy to recognise the true poetic ring. elsewhere the volume is amateurish and weak. the spanish main was suggested by a leader in the daily telegraph, and bears all the traces of its lurid origin. sir jocellyn's trust is a sort of pseudo-tennysonian idyll in which the damozel says to her gallant rescuer, 'come, come, sir knight, i catch my death of cold,' and recompenses him with what noble minds regard the first reward,--an orphan's thanks. nunc dimittis is dull and the wandering jew dreadful; but procris is a beautiful poem. the richness and variety of its metaphors, the music of its lines, the fine opulence of its imagery, all seem to point to a new poet. faults, it is true, there are in abundance; but they are faults that come from want of trouble, not from want of taste. mr. hole shows often a rare and exquisite sense of beauty and a marvellous power of poetic vision, and if he will cultivate the technique of his craft a little more we have no doubt but that he will some day give us work worthy to endure. it is true that there is more promise than perfection in his verse at present, yet it is a promise that seems likely to be fulfilled. ( ) stories of wicklow. by george francis armstrong, m.a. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) somnia medici. by john a. goodchild. second series. (kegan paul.) ( ) verses: translated and original. by h. e. keene. (w. h. allen and co.) ( ) procris and other poems. by w. g. hole. (kegan paul.) some novels (pall mall gazette, april , .) after a careful perusal of 'twixt love and duty, by mr. tighe hopkins, we confess ourselves unable to inform anxious inquirers who it is that is thus sandwiched, and how he (or she) got into so unpleasant a predicament. the curious reader with a taste for enigmas may be advised to find out for himself--if he can. even if he be unsuccessful, his trouble will be repaid by the pleasant writing and clever character drawing of mr. hopkins's tale. the plot is less praiseworthy. the whole madeira episode seems to lead up to this dilemma, and after all it comes to nothing. we brace up our nerves for a tragedy and are treated instead to the mildest of marivaudage--which is disappointing. in conclusion, one word of advice to mr. hopkins: let him refrain from apostrophising his characters after this fashion: 'oh, gilbert reade, what are you about that you dally with this golden chance?' and so forth. this is one of the worst mannerisms of a bygone generation of story tellers. mr. gallenga has written, as he says, 'a tale without a murder,' but having put a pistol-ball through his hero's chest and left him alive and hearty notwithstanding, he cannot be said to have produced a tale without a miracle. his heroine, too, if we may judge by his descriptions of her, is 'all a wonder and a wild desire.' at the age of seventeen she 'was one of the great maker's masterpieces . . . a living likeness of the dresden madonna.' one rather shudders to think of what she may become at forty, but this is an impertinent prying into futurity. she hails from 'maryland, my maryland!' and has 'received a careful, if not a superior, education.' need we add that she marries the heir to an earldom who, as aforesaid, has had himself perforated by a pistol-bullet on her behalf? mr. gallenga's division of this book into acts and scenes is not justified by anything specially dramatic either in its structure or its method. the dialogue, in truth, is somewhat stilted. nevertheless, its first-hand sketches of roman society are not without interest, and one or two characters seem to be drawn from nature. the life's mistake which forms the theme of mrs. lovett cameron's two volumes is not a mistake after all, but results in unmixed felicity; and as it is brought about by fraud on the part of the hero, this conclusion is not as moral as it might be. for the rest, the tale is a very familiar one. its personages are the embarrassed squire with his charming daughter, the wealthy and amorous mortgagee, and the sailor lover who is either supposed to be drowned or falsely represented to be fickle--in mrs. cameron's tale he is both in succession. when we add that there is a stanza from byron on the title-page and a poetical quotation at the beginning of each chapter, we have possessed the discerning reader of all necessary information both as to the matter and the manner of mrs. cameron's performance. mr. e. o. pleydell-bouverie has endowed the novel-writing fraternity with a new formula for the composition of titles. after j. s.; or, trivialities there is no reason why we should not have a. b.; or, platitudes, m.n.; or, sentimentalisms, y.z.; or, inanities. there are many books which these simple titles would characterise much more aptly than any high-flown phrases--as aptly, in fact, as mr. bouverie's title characterises the volume before us. it sets forth the uninteresting fortunes of an insignificant person, one john stiles, a briefless barrister. the said john falls in love with a young lady, inherits a competence, omits to tell his love, and is killed by the bursting of a fowling-piece--that is all. the only point of interest presented by the book is the problem as to how it ever came to be written. we can scarcely find the solution in mr. bouverie's elaborately smart style which cannot be said to transmute his 'trivialities' into 'flies in amber.' mr. swinburne once proposed that it should be a penal offence against literature for any writer to affix a proverb, a phrase or a quotation to a novel, by way of tag or title. we wonder what he would say to the title of 'pen oliver's' last book! probably he would empty on it the bitter vial of his scorn and satire. all but is certainly an intolerable name to give to any literary production. the story, however, is quite an interesting one. at laxenford hall live lord and lady arthur winstanley. lady arthur has two children by her first marriage, the elder of whom, walter hope-kennedy by name, is heir to the broad acres. walter is a pleasant english boy, fonder of cricket than of culture, healthy, happy and susceptible. he falls in love with fanny taylor, a pretty village girl; is thrown out of his dog-cart one night through the machinations of a jealous rival, breaks one of his ribs and gets a violent fever. his stepfather tries to murder him by subcutaneous injections of morphia but is detected by the local doctor, and walter recovers. however, he does not marry fanny after all, and the story ends ineffectually. to say of a dress that 'it was rather under than over adorned' is not very pleasing english, and such a phrase as 'almost always, but by no means invariably,' is quite detestable. still we must not expect the master of the scalpel to be the master of the stilus as well. all but is a very charming tale, and the sketches of village life are quite admirable. we recommend it to all who are tired of the productions of mr. hugh conway's dreadful disciples. ( ) 'twixt love and duty: a novel. by tighe hopkins. (chatto and windus.) ( ) jenny jennet: a tale without a murder. by a. gallenga. (chapman and hall.) ( ) a life's mistake: a novel. by mrs. h. lovett cameron. (ward and downey.) ( ) j. s.; or, trivialities: a novel. by edward oliver pleydell-bouverie. (griffith, farren and co.) ( ) all but: a chronicle of laxenford life. by pen oliver, f.r.c.s. (kegan paul.) a literary pilgrim (pall mall gazette, april , .) antiquarian books, as a rule, are extremely dull reading. they give us facts without form, science without style, and learning without life. an exception, however, must be made for m. gaston boissier's promenades archeologiques. m. boissier is a most pleasant and picturesque writer, and is really able to give his readers useful information without ever boring them, an accomplishment which is entirely unknown in germany, and in england is extremely rare. the first essay in his book is on the probable site of horace's country- house, a subject that has interested many scholars from the renaissance down to our own day. m. boissier, following the investigations of signor rosa, places it on a little hill over-looking the licenza, and his theory has a great deal to recommend it. the plough still turns up on the spot the bricks and tiles of an old roman villa; a spring of clear water, like that of which the poet so often sang, 'breaks babbling from the hollow rock,' and is still called by the peasants fonte dell' oratini, some faint echo possibly of the singer's name; the view from the hill is just what is described in the epistles, 'continui montes nisi dissocientur opaca valle'; hard by is the site of the ruined temple of vacuna, where horace tells us he wrote one of his poems, and the local rustics still go to varia (vicovaro) on market days as they used to do when the graceful roman lyrist sauntered through his vines and played at being a country gentleman. m. boissier, however, is not content merely with identifying the poet's house; he also warmly defends him from the charge that has been brought against him of servility in accepting it. he points out that it was only after the invention of printing that literature became a money-making profession, and that, as there was no copyright law at rome to prevent books being pirated, patrons had to take the place that publishers hold, or should hold, nowadays. the roman patron, in fact, kept the roman poet alive, and we fancy that many of our modern bards rather regret the old system. better, surely, the humiliation of the sportula than the indignity of a bill for printing! better to accept a country-house as a gift than to be in debt to one's landlady! on the whole, the patron was an excellent institution, if not for poetry at least for the poets; and though he had to be propitiated by panegyrics, still are we not told by our most shining lights that the subject is of no importance in a work of art? m. boissier need not apologise for horace: every poet longs for a maecenas. an essay on the etruscan tombs at corneto follows, and the remainder of the volume is taken up by a most fascinating article called le pays de l'eneide. m. boissier claims for virgil's descriptions of scenery an absolute fidelity of detail. 'les poetes anciens,' he says, 'ont le gout de la precision et de la fidelite: ils n'imaginent guere de paysages en l'air,' and with this view he visited every place in italy and sicily that virgil has mentioned. sometimes, it is true, modern civilisation, or modern barbarism, has completely altered the aspect of the scene; the 'desolate shore of drepanum,' for instance ('drepani illaetabilis ora') is now covered with thriving manufactories and stucco villas, and the 'bird-haunted forest' through which the tiber flowed into the sea has long ago disappeared. still, on the whole, the general character of the italian landscape is unchanged, and m. boissier's researches show very clearly how personal and how vivid were virgil's impressions of nature. the subject is, of course, a most interesting one, and those who love to make pilgrimages without stirring from home cannot do better than spend three shillings on the french academician's promenades archeologiques. nouvelles promenades archeologiques, horace et virgile. by gaston boissier. (hachette.) beranger in england (pall mall gazette, april , .) a philosophic politician once remarked that the best possible form of government is an absolute monarchy tempered by street ballads. without at all agreeing with this aphorism we still cannot but regret that the new democracy does not use poetry as a means for the expression of political opinion. the socialists, it is true, have been heard singing the later poems of mr. william morris, but the street ballad is really dead in england. the fact is that most modern poetry is so artificial in its form, so individual in its essence and so literary in its style, that the people as a body are little moved by it, and when they have grievances against the capitalist or the aristocrat they prefer strikes to sonnets and rioting to rondels. possibly, mr. william toynbee's pleasant little volume of translations from beranger may be the herald of a new school. beranger had all the qualifications for a popular poet. he wrote to be sung more than to be read; he preferred the pont neuf to parnassus; he was patriotic as well as romantic, and humorous as well as humane. translations of poetry as a rule are merely misrepresentations, but the muse of beranger is so simple and naive that she can wear our english dress with ease and grace, and mr. toynbee has kept much of the mirth and music of the original. here and there, undoubtedly, the translation could be improved upon; 'rapiers' for instance is an abominable rhyme to 'forefathers'; 'the hated arms of albion' in the same poem is a very feeble rendering of 'le leopard de l'anglais,' and such a verse as 'mid france's miracles of art, rare trophies won from art's own land, i've lived to see with burning heart the fog-bred poor triumphant stand, reproduces very inadequately the charm of the original: dans nos palais, ou, pres de la victoire, brillaient les arts, doux fruits des beaux climats, j'ai vu du nord les peuplades sans gloire, de leurs manteaux secouer les frimas. on the whole, however, mr. toynbee's work is good; les champs, for example, is very well translated, and so are the two delightful poems rosette and ma republique; and there is a good deal of spirit in le marquis de carabas: whom have we here in conqueror's role? our grand old marquis, bless his soul! whose grand old charger (mark his bone!) has borne him back to claim his own. note, if you please, the grand old style in which he nears his grand old pile; with what an air of grand old state he waves that blade immaculate! hats off, hats off, for my lord to pass, the grand old marquis of carabas!-- though 'that blade immaculate' has hardly got the sting of 'un sabre innocent'; and in the fourth verse of the same poem, 'marquise, you'll have the bed-chamber' does not very clearly convey the sense of the line 'la marquise a le tabouret.' the best translation in the book is the court suit (l'habit de cour), and if mr. toynbee will give us some more work as clever as this we shall be glad to see a second volume from his pen. beranger is not nearly well enough known in england, and though it is always better to read a poet in the original, still translations have their value as echoes have their music. a selection from the songs of de beranger in english verse. by william toynbee. (kegan paul.) the poetry of the people (pall mall gazette, may , .) the countess martinengo deserves well of all poets, peasants and publishers. folklore is so often treated nowadays merely from the point of view of the comparative mythologist, that it is really delightful to come across a book that deals with the subject simply as literature. for the folk-tale is the father of all fiction as the folk-song is the mother of all poetry; and in the games, the tales and the ballads of primitive people it is easy to see the germs of such perfected forms of art as the drama, the novel and the epic. it is, of course, true that the highest expression of life is to be found not in the popular songs, however poetical, of any nation, but in the great masterpieces of self-conscious art; yet it is pleasant sometimes to leave the summit of parnassus to look at the wild-flowers in the valley, and to turn from the lyre of apollo to listen to the reed of pan. we can still listen to it. to this day, the vineyard dressers of calabria will mock the passer-by with satirical verses as they used to do in the old pagan days, and the peasants of the olive woods of provence answer each other in amoebaean strains. the sicilian shepherd has not yet thrown his pipe aside, and the children of modern greece sing the swallow-song through the villages in spring-time, though theognis is more than two thousand years dead. nor is this popular poetry merely the rhythmic expression of joy and sorrow; it is in the highest degree imaginative; and taking its inspiration directly from nature it abounds in realistic metaphor and in picturesque and fantastic imagery. it must, of course, be admitted that there is a conventionality of nature as there is a conventionality of art, and that certain forms of utterance are apt to become stereotyped by too constant use; yet, on the whole, it is impossible not to recognise in the folk- songs that the countess martinengo has brought together one strong dominant note of fervent and flawless sincerity. indeed, it is only in the more terrible dramas of the elizabethan age that we can find any parallel to the corsican voceri with their shrill intensity of passion, their awful frenzies of grief and hate. and yet, ardent as the feeling is, the form is nearly always beautiful. now and then, in the poems of the extreme south one meets with a curious crudity of realism, but, as a rule, the sense of beauty prevails. some of the folk-poems in this book have all the lightness and loveliness of lyrics, all of them have that sweet simplicity of pure song by which mirth finds its own melody and mourning its own music, and even where there are conceits of thought and expression they are conceits born of fancy not of affectation. herrick himself might have envied that wonderful love-song of provence: if thou wilt be the falling dew and fall on me alway, then i will be the white, white rose on yonder thorny spray. if thou wilt be the white, white rose on yonder thorny spray, then i will be the honey-bee and kiss thee all the day. if thou wilt be the honey-bee and kiss me all the day, then i will be in yonder heaven the star of brightest ray. if thou wilt be in yonder heaven the star of brightest ray, then i will be the dawn, and we shall meet at break of day. how charming also is this lullaby by which the corsican mother sings her babe to sleep! gold and pearls my vessel lade, silk and cloth the cargo be, all the sails are of brocade coming from beyond the sea; and the helm of finest gold, made a wonder to behold. fast awhile in slumber lie; sleep, my child, and hushaby. after you were born full soon, you were christened all aright; godmother she was the moon, godfather the sun so bright. all the stars in heaven told wore their necklaces of gold. fast awhile in slumber lie; sleep, my child, and hushaby. or this from roumania: sleep, my daughter, sleep an hour; mother's darling gilliflower. mother rocks thee, standing near, she will wash thee in the clear waters that from fountains run, to protect thee from the sun. sleep, my darling, sleep an hour, grow thou as the gilliflower. as a tear-drop be thou white, as a willow tall and slight; gentle as the ring-doves are, and be lovely as a star! we hardly know what poems are sung to english babies, but we hope they are as beautiful as these two. blake might have written them. the countess martinengo has certainly given us a most fascinating book. in a volume of moderate dimensions, not too long to be tiresome nor too brief to be disappointing, she has collected together the best examples of modern folk-songs, and with her as a guide the lazy reader lounging in his armchair may wander from the melancholy pine-forests of the north to sicily's orange-groves and the pomegranate gardens of armenia, and listen to the singing of those to whom poetry is a passion, not a profession, and whose art, coming from inspiration and not from schools, if it has the limitations, at least has also the loveliness of its origin, and is one with blowing grasses and the flowers of the field. essays in the study of folk-songs. by the countess evelyn martinengo cesaresco. (redway.) the cenci (dramatic review, may , .) the production of the cenci last week at the grand theatre, islington, may be said to have been an era in the literary history of this century, and the shelley society deserves the highest praise and warmest thanks of all for having given us an opportunity of seeing shelley's play under the conditions he himself desired for it. for the cenci was written absolutely with a view to theatric presentation, and had shelley's own wishes been carried out it would have been produced during his lifetime at covent garden, with edmund kean and miss o'neill in the principal parts. in working out his conception, shelley had studied very carefully the aesthetics of dramatic art. he saw that the essence of the drama is disinterested presentation, and that the characters must not be merely mouthpieces for splendid poetry but must be living subjects for terror and for pity. 'i have endeavoured,' he says, 'as nearly as possible to represent the characters as they probably were, and have sought to avoid the error of making them actuated by my own conception of right or wrong, false or true: thus under a thin veil converting names and actions of the sixteenth century into cold impersonations of my own mind. . . . 'i have avoided with great care the introduction of what is commonly called mere poetry, and i imagine there will scarcely be found a detached simile or a single isolated description, unless beatrice's description of the chasm appointed for her father's murder should be judged to be of that nature.' he recognised that a dramatist must be allowed far greater freedom of expression than what is conceded to a poet. 'in a dramatic composition,' to use his own words, 'the imagery and the passion should interpenetrate one another, the former being reserved simply for the full development and illustration of the latter. imagination is as the immortal god which should assume flesh for the redemption of mortal passion. it is thus that the most remote and the most familiar imagery may alike be fit for dramatic purposes when employed in the illustration of strong feeling, which raises what is low, and levels to the apprehension that which is lofty, casting over all the shadow of its own greatness. in other respects i have written more carelessly, that is, without an over-fastidious and learned choice of words. in this respect i entirely agree with those modern critics who assert that in order to move men to true sympathy we must use the familiar language of men.' he knew that if the dramatist is to teach at all it must be by example, not by precept. 'the highest moral purpose,' he remarks, 'aimed at in the highest species of the drama, is the teaching the human heart, through its sympathies and antipathies, the knowledge of itself; in proportion to the possession of which knowledge every human being is wise, just, sincere, tolerant and kind. if dogmas can do more it is well: but a drama is no fit place for the enforcement of them.' he fully realises that it is by a conflict between our artistic sympathies and our moral judgment that the greatest dramatic effects are produced. 'it is in the restless and anatomising casuistry with which men seek the justification of beatrice, yet feel that she has done what needs justification; it is in the superstitious horror with which they contemplate alike her wrongs and their revenge, that the dramatic character of what she did and suffered consists.' in fact no one has more clearly understood than shelley the mission of the dramatist and the meaning of the drama. and yet i hardly think that the production of the cenci, its absolute presentation on the stage, can be said to have added anything to its beauty, its pathos, or even its realism. not that the principal actors were at all unworthy of the work of art they interpreted; mr. hermann vezin's cenci was a noble and magnificent performance; miss alma murray stands now in the very first rank of our english actresses as a mistress of power and pathos; and mr. leonard outram's orsino was most subtle and artistic; but that the cenci needs for the production of its perfect effect no interpretation at all. it is, as we read it, a complete work of art--capable, indeed, of being acted, but not dependent on theatric presentation; and the impression produced by its exhibition on the stage seemed to me to be merely one of pleasure at the gratification of an intellectual curiosity of seeing how far melpomene could survive the wagon of thespis. in producing the play, however, the members of the shelley society were merely carrying out the poet's own wishes, and they are to be congratulated on the success of their experiment--a success due not to any gorgeous scenery or splendid pageant, but to the excellence of the actors who aided them. helena in troas (dramatic review, may , .) one might have thought that to have produced as you like it in an english forest would have satisfied the most ambitious spirit; but mr. godwin has not contented himself with his sylvan triumphs. from shakespeare he has passed to sophocles, and has given us the most perfect exhibition of a greek dramatic performance that has as yet been seen in this country. for, beautiful as were the productions of the agamemnon at oxford and the eumenides at cambridge, their effects were marred in no small or unimportant degree by the want of a proper orchestra for the chorus with its dance and song, a want that was fully supplied in mr. godwin's presentation by the use of the arena of a circus. in the centre of this circle, which was paved with the semblance of tesselated marble, stood the altar of dionysios, and beyond it rose the long, shallow stage, faced with casts from the temple of bassae; and bearing the huge portal of the house of paris and the gleaming battlements of troy. over the portal hung a great curtain, painted with crimson lions, which, when drawn aside, disclosed two massive gates of bronze; in front of the house was placed a golden image of aphrodite, and across the ramparts on either hand could be seen a stretch of blue waters and faint purple hills. the scene was lovely, not merely in the harmony of its colour but in the exquisite delicacy of its architectural proportions. no nation has ever felt the pure beauty of mere construction so strongly as the greeks, and in this respect mr. godwin has fully caught the greek feeling. the play opened by the entrance of the chorus, white vestured and gold filleted, under the leadership of miss kinnaird, whose fine gestures and rhythmic movements were quite admirable. in answer to their appeal the stage curtains slowly divided, and from the house of paris came forth helen herself, in a robe woven with all the wonders of war, and broidered with the pageant of battle. with her were her two handmaidens--one in white and yellow and one in green; hecuba followed in sombre grey of mourning, and priam in kingly garb of gold and purple, and paris in phrygian cap and light archer's dress; and when at sunset the lover of helen was borne back wounded from the field, down from the oaks of ida stole oenone in the flowing drapery of the daughter of a river-god, every fold of her garments rippling like dim water as she moved. as regards the acting, the two things the greeks valued most in actors were grace of gesture and music of voice. indeed, to gain these virtues their actors used to subject themselves to a regular course of gymnastics and a particular regime of diet, health being to the greeks not merely a quality of art, but a condition of its production. whether or not our english actors hold the same view may be doubted; but mr. vezin certainly has always recognised the importance of a physical as well as of an intellectual training for the stage, and his performance of king priam was distinguished by stately dignity and most musical enunciation. with mr. vezin, grace of gesture is an unconscious result--not a conscious effort. it has become nature, because it was once art. mr. beerbohm tree also is deserving of very high praise for his paris. ease and elegance characterised every movement he made, and his voice was extremely effective. mr. tree is the perfect proteus of actors. he can wear the dress of any century and the appearance of any age, and has a marvellous capacity of absorbing his personality into the character he is creating. to have method without mannerism is given only to a few, but among the few is mr. tree. miss alma murray does not possess the physique requisite for our conception of helen, but the beauty of her movements and the extremely sympathetic quality of her voice gave an indefinable charm to her performance. mrs. jopling looked like a poem from the pantheon, and indeed the personae mutae were not the least effective figures in the play. hecuba was hardly a success. in acting, the impression of sincerity is conveyed by tone, not by mere volume of voice, and whatever influence emotion has on utterance it is certainly not in the direction of false emphasis. mrs. beerbohm tree's oenone was much better, and had some fine moments of passion; but the harsh realistic shriek with which the nymph flung herself from the battlements, however effective it might have been in a comedy of sardou, or in one of mr. burnand's farces, was quite out of place in the representation of a greek tragedy. the classical drama is an imaginative, poetic art, which requires the grand style for its interpretation, and produces its effects by the most ideal means. it is in the operas of wagner, not in popular melodrama, that any approximation to the greek method can be found. better to wear mask and buskin than to mar by any modernity of expression the calm majesty of melpomene. as an artistic whole, however, the performance was undoubtedly a great success. it has been much praised for its archaeology, but mr. godwin is something more than a mere antiquarian. he takes the facts of archaeology, but he converts them into artistic and dramatic effects, and the historical accuracy that underlies the visible shapes of beauty that he presents to us, is not by any means the distinguishing quality of the complete work of art. this quality is the absolute unity and harmony of the entire presentation, the presence of one mind controlling the most minute details, and revealing itself only in that true perfection which hides personality. on more than one occasion it seemed to me that the stage was kept a little too dark, and that a purely picturesque effect of light and shade was substituted for the plastic clearness of outline that the greeks so desired; some objection, too, might be made to the late character of the statue of aphrodite, which was decidedly post-periclean; these, however, are unimportant points. the performance was not intended to be an absolute reproduction of the greek stage in the fifth century before christ: it was simply the presentation in greek form of a poem conceived in the greek spirit; and the secret of its beauty was the perfect correspondence of form and matter, the delicate equilibrium of spirit and sense. as for the play, it had, of course, to throw away many sweet superfluous graces of expression before it could adapt itself to the conditions of theatrical presentation, but much that is good was retained; and the choruses, which really possess some pure notes of lyric loveliness, were sung in their entirety. here and there, it is true, occur such lines as-- what wilt thou do? what can the handful still left?-- lines that owe their blank verse character more to the courtesy of the printer than to the genius of the poet, for without rhythm and melody there is no verse at all; and the attempt to fit greek forms of construction to our english language often gives the work the air of an awkward translation; however, there is a great deal that is pleasing in helena in troas and, on the whole, the play was worthy of its pageant and the poem deserved the peplums. it is much to be regretted that mr. godwin's beautiful theatre cannot be made a permanent institution. even looked at from the low standpoint of educational value, such a performance as that given last monday might be of the greatest service to modern culture; and who knows but a series of these productions might civilise south kensington and give tone to brompton? still it is something to have shown our artists 'a dream of form in days of thought,' and to have allowed the philistines to peer into paradise. and this is what mr. godwin has done. pleasing and prattling (pall mall gazette, august , .) sixty years ago, when sir walter scott was inaugurating an era of historical romance, the wolfe of badenoch was a very popular book. to us its interest is more archaeological than artistic, and its characters seem merely puppets parading in fourteenth-century costume. it is true our grandfathers thought differently. they liked novels in which the heroine exclaims, 'peace with thine impudence, sir knave. dost thou dare to speak thus in presence of the lady eleanore de selby? . . . a greybeard's ire shall never--,' while the hero remarks that 'the welkin reddenes i' the west.' in fact, they considered that language like this is exceedingly picturesque and gives the necessary historical perspective. nowadays, however, few people have the time to read a novel that requires a glossary to explain it, and we fear that without a glossary the general reader will hardly appreciate the value of such expressions as 'gnoffe,' 'bowke,' 'herborow,' 'papelarde,' 'couepe,' 'rethes,' 'pankers,' 'agroted lorrel,' and 'horrow tallow-catch,' all of which occur in the first few pages of the wolfe of badenoch. in a novel we want life, not learning; and, unfortunately, sir thomas lauder lays himself open to the criticism jonson made on spenser, that 'in affecting the ancients he writ no language.' still, there is a healthy spirit of adventure in the book, and no doubt many people will be interested to see the kind of novel the public liked in . keep my secret, by miss g. m. robins, is very different. it is quite modern both in manner and in matter. the heroine, miss olga damien, when she is a little girl tries to murder mr. victor burnside. mr. burnside, who is tall, blue-eyed and amber-haired, makes her promise never to mention the subject to any one; this, in fact, is the secret that gives the title to the book. the result is that miss damien is blackmailed by a fascinating and unscrupulous uncle and is nearly burnt to death in the secret chamber of an old castle. the novel at the end gets too melodramatic in character and the plot becomes a chaos of incoherent incidents, but the writing is clever and bright. it is just the book, in fact, for a summer holiday, as it is never dull and yet makes no demands at all upon the intellect. mrs. chetwynd gives us a new type of widow. as a rule, in fiction widows are delightful, designing and deceitful; but mrs. dorriman is not by any means a cleopatra in crape. she is a weak, retiring woman, very feeble and very feminine, and with the simplicity that is characteristic of such sweet and shallow natures she allows her brother to defraud her of all her property. the widow is rather a bore and the brother is quite a bear, but margaret rivers who, to save her sister from poverty, marries a man she does not love, is a cleverly conceived character, and lady lyons is an admirable old dowager. the book can be read without any trouble and was probably written without any trouble also. the style is prattling and pleasing. the plot of delamere is not very new. on the death of her husband, mrs. de ruthven discovers that the estates belong by right not to her son raymond but to her niece fleurette. as she keeps her knowledge to herself, a series of complications follows, but the cousins are ultimately united in marriage and the story ends happily. mr. curzon writes in a clever style, and though its construction is rather clumsy the novel is a thoroughly interesting one. a daughter of fife tells us of the love of a young artist for a scotch fisher-girl. the character sketches are exceptionally good, especially that of david promoter, a fisherman who leaves his nets to preach the gospel, and the heroine is quite charming till she becomes civilised. the book is a most artistic combination of romantic feeling with realistic form, and it is pleasant to read descriptions of scotch scenery that do not represent the land of mist and mountain as a sort of chromolithograph from the brompton road. in mr. speight's novel, a barren title, we have an impoverished earl who receives an allowance from his relations on condition of his remaining single, being all the time secretly married and the father of a grown-up son. the story is improbable and amusing. on the whole, there is a great deal to be said for our ordinary english novelists. they have all some story to tell, and most of them tell it in an interesting manner. where they fail is in concentration of style. their characters are far too eloquent and talk themselves to tatters. what we want is a little more reality and a little less rhetoric. we are most grateful to them that they have not as yet accepted any frigid formula, nor stereotyped themselves into a school, but we wish that they would talk less and think more. they lead us through a barren desert of verbiage to a mirage that they call life; we wander aimlessly through a very wilderness of words in search of one touch of nature. however, one should not be too severe on english novels: they are the only relaxation of the intellectually unemployed. ( ) the wolfe of badenoch: a historical romance of the fourteenth century. by sir thomas lauder. (hamilton, adams and co.) ( ) keep my secret. by g. m. robins. (bentley and son.) ( ) mrs. dorriman. by the hon. mrs. henry chetwynd. (chapman and hall.) ( ) delamere. by g. curzon. (sampson low, marston and co.) ( ) a daughter of fife. by amelia barr. (james clarke and co.) ( ) a barren title. by t. w. speight. (chatto and windus.) balzac in english (pall mall gazette, september , .) many years ago, in a number of all the year round, charles dickens complained that balzac was very little read in england, and although since then the public has become more familiar with the great masterpieces of french fiction, still it may be doubted whether the comedie humaine is at all appreciated or understood by the general run of novel readers. it is really the greatest monument that literature has produced in our century, and m. taine hardly exaggerates when he says that, after shakespeare, balzac is our most important magazine of documents on human nature. balzac's aim, in fact, was to do for humanity what buffon had done for the animal creation. as the naturalist studied lions and tigers, so the novelist studied men and women. yet he was no mere reporter. photography and proces-verbal were not the essentials of his method. observation gave him the facts of life, but his genius converted facts into truths, and truths into truth. he was, in a word, a marvellous combination of the artistic temperament with the scientific spirit. the latter he bequeathed to his disciples; the former was entirely his own. the distinction between such a book as m. zola's l'assommoir and such a book as balzac's illusions perdues is the distinction between unimaginative realism and imaginative reality. 'all balzac's characters,' said baudelaire, 'are gifted with the same ardour of life that animated himself. all his fictions are as deeply coloured as dreams. every mind is a weapon loaded to the muzzle with will. the very scullions have genius.' he was, of course, accused of being immoral. few writers who deal directly with life escape that charge. his answer to the accusation was characteristic and conclusive. 'whoever contributes his stone to the edifice of ideas,' he wrote, 'whoever proclaims an abuse, whoever sets his mark upon an evil to be abolished, always passes for immoral. if you are true in your portraits, if, by dint of daily and nightly toil, you succeed in writing the most difficult language in the world, the word immoral is thrown in your face.' the morals of the personages of the comedie humaine are simply the morals of the world around us. they are part of the artist's subject-matter; they are not part of his method. if there be any need of censure it is to life, not to literature, that it should be given. balzac, besides, is essentially universal. he sees life from every point of view. he has no preferences and no prejudices. he does not try to prove anything. he feels that the spectacle of life contains its own secret. 'ii cree un monde et se tait.' and what a world it is! what a panorama of passions! what a pell-mell of men and women! it was said of trollope that he increased the number of our acquaintances without adding to our visiting list; but after the comedie humaine one begins to believe that the only real people are the people who have never existed. lucien de rubempre, le pere goriot, ursule mirouet, marguerite claes, the baron hulot, madame marneffe, le cousin pons, de marsay--all bring with them a kind of contagious illusion of life. they have a fierce vitality about them: their existence is fervent and fiery-coloured; we not merely feel for them but we see them--they dominate our fancy and defy scepticism. a steady course of balzac reduces our living friends to shadows, and our acquaintances to the shadows of shades. who would care to go out to an evening party to meet tomkins, the friend of one's boyhood, when one can sit at home with lucien de rubempre? it is pleasanter to have the entree to balzac's society than to receive cards from all the duchesses in may fair. in spite of this, there are many people who have declared the comedie humaine to be indigestible. perhaps it is: but then what about truffles? balzac's publisher refused to be disturbed by any such criticism as that. 'indigestible, is it?' he exclaimed with what, for a publisher, was rare good sense. 'well, i should hope so; who ever thinks of a dinner that isn't?' and our english publisher, mr. routledge, clearly agrees with m. poulet-malassis, as he is occupied in producing a complete translation of the comedie humaine. the two volumes that at present lie before us contain cesar birotteau, that terrible tragedy of finance, and l'lllustre gaudissart, the apotheosis of the commercial traveller, the duchesse de langeais, most marvellous of modern love stories, le chef d'oeuvre inconnu, from which mr. henry james took his madonna of the future, and that extraordinary romance une passion dans le desert. the choice of stories is quite excellent, but the translations are very unequal, and some of them are positively bad. l'lllustre gaudissart, for instance, is full of the most grotesque mistakes, mistakes that would disgrace a schoolboy. 'bon conseil vaut un oeil dans la main' is translated 'good advice is an egg in the hand'! 'ecus rebelles' is rendered 'rebellious lucre,' and such common expressions as 'faire la barbe,' 'attendre la vente,' 'n'entendre rien,' palir sur une affaire,' are all mistranslated. 'des bois de quoi se faire un cure-dent' is not 'a few trees to slice into toothpicks,' but 'as much timber as would make a toothpick'; 'son horloge enfermee dans une grande armoire oblongue' is not 'a clock which he kept shut up in a large oblong closet' but simply a clock in a tall clock-case; 'journal viager' is not 'an annuity,' 'garce' is not the same as 'farce,' and 'dessins des indes' are not 'drawings of the indies.' on the whole, nothing can be worse than this translation, and if mr. routledge wishes the public to read his version of the comedie humaine, he should engage translators who have some slight knowledge of french. cesar birotteau is better, though it is not by any means free from mistakes. 'to suffer under the maximum' is an absurd rendering of 'subir le maximum'; 'perse' is 'chintz,' not 'persian chintz'; 'rendre le pain benit' is not 'to take the wafer'; 'riviere' is hardly a 'fillet of diamonds'; and to translate 'son coeur avait un calus a l'endroit du loyer' by 'his heart was a callus in the direction of a lease' is an insult to two languages. on the whole, the best version is that of the duchesse de langeais, though even this leaves much to be desired. such a sentence as 'to imitate the rough logician who marched before the pyrrhonians while denying his own movement' entirely misses the point of balzac's 'imiter le rude logicien qui marchait devant les pyrrhoniens, qui niaient le mouvement.' we fear mr. routledge's edition will not do. it is well printed and nicely bound; but his translators do not understand french. it is a great pity, for la comedie humaine is one of the masterpieces of the age. balzac's novels in english. the duchesse de langeais and other stories; cesar birotteau. (routledge and sons.) two new novels (pall mall gazette, september , .) most modern novels are more remarkable for their crime than for their culture, and mr. g. manville fenn's last venture is no exception to the general rule. the master of the ceremonies is turbid, terrifying and thrilling. it contains, besides many 'moving accidents by flood and field,' an elopement, an abduction, a bigamous marriage, an attempted assassination, a duel, a suicide, and a murder. the murder, we must acknowledge, is a masterpiece. it would do credit to gaboriau, and should make miss braddon jealous. the newgate calendar itself contains nothing more fascinating, and what higher praise than this can be given to a sensational novel? not that lady teigne, the hapless victim, is killed in any very new or subtle manner. she is merely strangled in bed, like desdemona; but the circumstances of the murder are so peculiar that claire denville, in common with the reader, suspects her own father of being guilty, while the father is convinced that the real criminal is his eldest son. stuart denville himself, the master of the ceremonies, is most powerfully drawn. he is a penniless, padded dandy who, by a careful study of the 'grand style' in deportment, has succeeded in making himself the brummel of the promenade and the autocrat of the assembly rooms. a light comedian by profession, he is suddenly compelled to play the principal part in a tragedy. his shallow, trivial nature is forced into the loftiest heroism, the noblest self-sacrifice. he becomes a hero against his will. the butterfly goes to martyrdom, the fop has to become fine. round this character centres, or rather should centre, the psychological interest of the book, but unfortunately mr. fenn has insisted on crowding his story with unnecessary incident. he might have made of his novel 'a soul's tragedy,' but he has produced merely a melodrama in three volumes. the master of the ceremonies is a melancholy example of the fatal influence of drury lane on literature. still, it should be read, for though mr. fenn has offered up his genius as a holocaust to mr. harris, he is never dull, and his style is on the whole very good. we wish, however, that he would not try to give articulate form to inarticulate exclamations. such a passage as this is quite dreadful and fails, besides, in producing the effect it aims at: 'he--he--he, hi--hi--hi, hec--hec--hec, ha--ha--ha! ho--ho! bless my--hey--ha! hey--ha! hugh--hugh--hugh! oh dear me! oh--why don't you--heck--heck--heck--heck--heck! shut the--ho--ho--ho--ho--hugh--hugh--window before i--ho--ho--ho--ho!' this horrible jargon is supposed to convey the impression of a lady coughing. it is, of course, a mere meaningless monstrosity on a par with spelling a sneeze. we hope that mr. fenn will not again try these theatrical tricks with language, for he possesses a rare art--the art of telling a story well. a statesman's love, the author tells us in a rather mystical preface, was written 'to show that the alchemist-like transfiguration supposed to be wrought in our whole nature by that passion has no existence in fact,' but it cannot be said to prove this remarkable doctrine. it is an exaggerated psychological study of a modern woman, a sort of picture by limelight, full of coarse colours and violent contrasts, not by any means devoid of cleverness but essentially false and over-emphasised. the heroine, helen rohan by name, tells her own story and, as she takes three volumes to do it in, we weary of the one point of view. life to be intelligible should be approached from many sides, and valuable though the permanent ego may be in philosophy, the permanent ego in fiction soon becomes a bore. there are, however, some interesting scenes in the novel, and a good portrait of the young pretender, for though the heroine is absolutely a creation of the nineteenth century, the background of the story is historical and deals with the rebellion of ' . as for the style, it is often original and picturesque; here and there are strong individual touches and brilliant passages; but there is also a good deal of pretence and a good deal of carelessness. what can be said, for instance, about such expressions as these, taken at random from the second volume,--'evanishing,' 'solitary loneness,' 'in my _then_ mood,' 'the bees _might advantage_ by to-day,' 'i would not listen reverently as _did the other some_ who went,' 'entangling myself in the net of this retiari,' and why should bassanio's beautiful speech in the trial scene be deliberately attributed to shylock? on the whole, a statesman's love cannot be said to be an artistic success; but still it shows promise and, some day, the author who, to judge by the style, is probably a woman, may do good work. this, however, will require pruning, prudence and patience. we shall see. ( ) the master of the ceremonies. by g. manville fenn. (ward and downey.) ( ) a statesman's love. by emile bauche. (blackwood and co.) ben jonson (pall mall gazette, september , .) in selecting mr. john addington symonds to write the life of ben jonson for his series of 'english worthies,' mr. lang, no doubt, exercised a wise judgment. mr. symonds, like the author of volpone, is a scholar and a man of letters; his book on shakspeare's predecessors showed a marvellous knowledge of the elizabethan period, and he is a recognised authority on the italian renaissance. the last is not the least of his qualifications. without a full appreciation of the meaning of the humanistic movement it is impossible to understand the great struggle between the classical form and the romantic spirit which is the chief critical characteristic of the golden age of the english drama, an age when shakespeare found his chief adversary, not among his contemporaries, but in seneca, and when jonson armed himself with aristotle to win the suffrages of a london audience. mr. symonds' book, consequently, will be opened with interest. it does not, of course, contain much that is new about jonson's life. but the facts of jonson's life are already well known, and in books of this kind what is true is of more importance than what is new, appreciation more valuable than discovery. scotchmen, however, will, no doubt, be interested to find that mr. symonds has succeeded in identifying jonson's crest with that of the johnstones of annandale, and the story of the way the literary titan escaped from hanging, by proving that he could read, is graphically told. on the whole, we have a vivid picture of the man as he lived. where picturesqueness is required, mr. symonds is always good. the usual comparison with dr. johnson is, of course, brought out. few of 'rare ben's' biographers spare us that, and the point is possibly a natural one to make. but when mr. symonds calls upon us to notice that both men made a journey to scotland, and that 'each found in a scotchman his biographer,' the parallel loses all value. there is an m in monmouth and an m in macedon, and drummond of hawthornden and boswell of auchinleck were both born the other side of the tweed; but from such analogies nothing is to be learned. there is no surer way of destroying a similarity than to strain it. as for mr. symonds' estimate of jonson's genius, it is in many points quite excellent. he ranks him with the giants rather than with the gods, with those who compel our admiration by their untiring energy and huge strength of intellectual muscle, not with those 'who share the divine gifts of creative imagination and inevitable instinct.' here he is right. pelion more than parnassus was jonson's home. his art has too much effort about it, too much definite intention. his style lacks the charm of chance. mr. symonds is right also in the stress he lays on the extraordinary combination in jonson's work of the most concentrated realism with encyclopaedic erudition. in jonson's comedies london slang and learned scholarship go hand in hand. literature was as living a thing to him as life itself. he used his classical lore not merely to give form to his verse, but to give flesh and blood to the persons of his plays. he could build up a breathing creature out of quotations. he made the poets of greece and rome terribly modern, and introduced them to the oddest company. his very culture is an element in his coarseness. there are moments when one is tempted to liken him to a beast that has fed off books. we cannot, however, agree with mr. symonds when he says that jonson 'rarely touched more than the outside of character,' that his men and women are 'the incarnations of abstract properties rather than living human beings,' that they are in fact mere 'masqueraders and mechanical puppets.' eloquence is a beautiful thing but rhetoric ruins many a critic, and mr. symonds is essentially rhetorical. when, for instance, he tells us that 'jonson made masks,' while 'dekker and heywood created souls,' we feel that he is asking us to accept a crude judgment for the sake of a smart antithesis. it is, of course, true that we do not find in jonson the same growth of character that we find in shakespeare, and we may admit that most of the characters in jonson's plays are, so to speak, ready-made. but a ready-made character is not necessarily either mechanical or wooden, two epithets mr. symonds uses constantly in his criticism. we cannot tell, and shakespeare himself does not tell us, why iago is evil, why regan and goneril have hard hearts, or why sir andrew aguecheek is a fool. it is sufficient that they are what they are, and that nature gives warrant for their existence. if a character in a play is lifelike, if we recognise it as true to nature, we have no right to insist on the author explaining its genesis to us. we must accept it as it is: and in the hands of a good dramatist mere presentation can take the place of analysis, and indeed is often a more dramatic method, because a more direct one. and jonson's characters are true to nature. they are in no sense abstractions; they are types. captain bobadil and captain tucca, sir john daw and sir amorous la foole, volpone and mosca, subtle and sir epicure mammon, mrs. purecraft and the rabbi busy are all creatures of flesh and blood, none the less lifelike because they are labelled. in this point mr. symonds seems to us unjust towards jonson. we think, also, that a special chapter might have been devoted to jonson as a literary critic. the creative activity of the english renaissance is so great that its achievements in the sphere of criticism are often overlooked by the student. then, for the first time, was language treated as an art. the laws of expression and composition were investigated and formularised. the importance of words was recognised. romanticism, realism and classicism fought their first battles. the dramatists are full of literary and art criticisms, and amused the public with slashing articles on one another in the form of plays. mr. symonds, of course, deals with jonson in his capacity as a critic, and always with just appreciation, but the whole subject is one that deserves fuller and more special treatment. some small inaccuracies, too, should be corrected in the second edition. dryden, for instance, was not 'jonson's successor on the laureate's throne,' as mr. symonds eloquently puts it, for sir william davenant came between them, and when one remembers the predominance of rhyme in shakespeare's early plays, it is too much to say that 'after the production of the first part of tamburlaine blank verse became the regular dramatic metre of the public stage.' shakespeare did not accept blank verse at once as a gift from marlowe's hand, but himself arrived at it after a long course of experiments in rhyme. indeed, some of mr. symonds' remarks on marlowe are very curious. to say of his edward ii., for instance, that it 'is not at all inferior to the work of shakespeare's younger age,' is very niggardly and inadequate praise, and comes strangely from one who has elsewhere written with such appreciation of marlowe's great genius; while to call marlowe jonson's 'master' is to make for him an impossible claim. in comedy marlowe has nothing whatever to teach jonson; in tragedy jonson sought for the classical not the romantic form. as for mr. symonds' style, it is, as usual, very fluent, very picturesque and very full of colour. here and there, however, it is really irritating. such a sentence as 'the tavern had the defects of its quality' is an awkward gallicism; and when mr. symonds, after genially comparing jonson's blank verse to the front of whitehall (a comparison, by the way, that would have enraged the poet beyond measure) proceeds to play a fantastic aria on the same string, and tells us that 'massinger reminds us of the intricacies of sansovino, shakespeare of gothic aisles or heaven's cathedral . . . ford of glittering corinthian colonnades, webster of vaulted crypts, . . . marlowe of masoned clouds, and marston, in his better moments, of the fragmentary vigour of a roman ruin,' one begins to regret that any one ever thought of the unity of the arts. similes such as these obscure; they do not illumine. to say that ford is like a glittering corinthian colonnade adds nothing to our knowledge of either ford or greek architecture. mr. symonds has written some charming poetry, but his prose, unfortunately, is always poetical prose, never the prose of a poet. still, the volume is worth reading, though decidedly mr. symonds, to use one of his own phrases, has 'the defects of his quality.' 'english worthies.' edited by andrew lang. ben jonson. by john addington symonds. (longmans, green and co.) the poets' corner--i (pall mall gazette, september , .) among the social problems of the nineteenth century the tramp has always held an important position, but his appearance among the nineteenth-century poets is extremely remarkable. not that a tramp's mode of life is at all unsuited to the development of the poetic faculty. far from it! he, if any one, should possess that freedom of mood which is so essential to the artist, for he has no taxes to pay and no relations to worry him. the man who possesses a permanent address, and whose name is to be found in the directory, is necessarily limited and localised. only the tramp has absolute liberty of living. was not homer himself a vagrant, and did not thespis go about in a caravan? it is then with feelings of intense expectation that we open the little volume that lies before us. it is entitled low down, by two tramps, and is marvellous even to look at. it is clear that art has at last reached the criminal classes. the cover is of brown paper like the covers of mr. whistler's brochures. the printing exhibits every fantastic variation of type, and the pages range in colour from blue to brown, from grey to sage green and from rose pink to chrome yellow. the philistines may sneer at this chromatic chaos, but we do not. as the painters are always pilfering from the poets, why should not the poet annex the domain of the painter and use colour for the expression of his moods and music: blue for sentiment, and red for passion, grey for cultured melancholy, and green for descriptions? the book, then, is a kind of miniature rainbow, and with all its varied sheets is as lovely as an advertisement hoarding. as for the peripatetics--alas! they are not nightingales. their note is harsh and rugged, mr. g. r. sims is the god of their idolatry, their style is the style of the surrey theatre, and we are sorry to see that that disregard of the rights of property which always characterises the able-bodied vagrant is extended by our tramps from the defensible pilfering from hen-roosts to the indefensible pilfering from poets. when we read such lines as: and builded him a pyramid, four square, open to all the sky and every wind, we feel that bad as poultry-snatching is, plagiarism is worse. facilis descensus averno! from highway robbery and crimes of violence one sinks gradually to literary petty larceny. however, there are coarsely effective poems in the volume, such as a super's philosophy, dick hewlett, a ballad of the californian school, and gentleman bill; and there is one rather pretty poem called the return of spring: when robins hop on naked boughs, and swell their throats with song, when lab'rers trudge behind their ploughs, and blithely whistle their teams along; when glints of summer sunshine chase park shadows on the distant hills, and scented tufts of pansies grace moist grots that 'scape rude borean chills. the last line is very disappointing. no poet, nowadays, should write of 'rude boreas'; he might just as well call the dawn 'aurora,' or say that 'flora decks the enamelled meads.' but there are some nice touches in the poem, and it is pleasant to find that tramps have their harmless moments. on the whole, the volume, if it is not quite worth reading, is at least worth looking at. the fool's motley in which it is arrayed is extremely curious and extremely characteristic. mr. irwin's muse comes to us more simply clad, and more gracefully. she gains her colour-effect from the poet, not from the publisher. no cockneyism or colloquialism mars the sweetness of her speech. she finds music for every mood, and form for every feeling. in art as in life the law of heredity holds good. on est toujours fits de quelqu'un. and so it is easy to see that mr. irwin is a fervent admirer of mr. matthew arnold. but he is in no sense a plagiarist. he has succeeded in studying a fine poet without stealing from him--a very difficult thing to do--and though many of the reeds through which he blows have been touched by other lips, yet he is able to draw new music from them. like most of our younger poets, mr. irwin is at his best in his sonnets, and those entitled the seeker after god and the pillar of the empire are really remarkable. all through this volume, however, one comes across good work, and the descriptions of indian scenery are excellent. india, in fact, is the picturesque background to these poems, and her monstrous beasts, strange flowers and fantastic birds are used with much subtlety for the production of artistic effect. perhaps there is a little too much about the pipal-tree, but when we have a proper sense of imperial unity, no doubt the pipal-tree will be as dear and as familiar to us as the oaks and elms of our own woodlands. ( ) low down: wayside thoughts in ballad and other verse. by two tramps. (redway.) ( ) rhymes and renderings. by h. c. irwin. (david stott.) a ride through morocco (pall mall gazette, october , .) morocco is a sort of paradox among countries, for though it lies westward of piccadilly yet it is purely oriental in character, and though it is but three hours' sail from europe yet it makes you feel (to use the forcible expression of an american writer) as if you had been 'taken up by the scruff of the neck and set down in the old testament.' mr. hugh stutfield has ridden twelve hundred miles through it, penetrated to fez and wazan, seen the lovely gate at mequinez and the hassen tower by rabat, feasted with sheikhs and fought with robbers, lived in an atmosphere of moors, mosques and mirages, visited the city of the lepers and the slave-market of sus, and played loo under the shadow of the atlas mountains. he is not an herodotus nor a sir john mandeville, but he tells his stories very pleasantly. his book, on the whole, is delightful reading, for though morocco is picturesque he does not weary us with word- painting; though it is poor he does not bore us with platitudes. now and then he indulges in a traveller's licence and thrills the simple reader with statements as amazing as they are amusing. the moorish coinage, he tells us, is so cumbersome that if a man gives you change for half-a-crown you have to hire a donkey to carry it away; the moorish language is so guttural that no one can ever hope to pronounce it aright who has not been brought up within hearing of the grunting of camels, a steady course of sneezing being, consequently, the only way by which a european can acquire anything like the proper accent; the sultan does not know how much he is married, but he unquestionably is so to a very large extent: on the principle that you cannot have too much of a good thing a woman is valued in proportion to her stoutness, and so far from there being any reduction made in the marriage-market for taking a quantity, you must pay so much per pound; the arabs believe the shereef of wazan to be such a holy man that, if he is guilty of taking champagne, the forbidden wine is turned into milk as he quaffs it, and if he gets extremely drunk he is merely in a mystical trance. mr. stutfield, however, has his serious moments, and his account of the commerce, government and social life of the moors is extremely interesting. it must be confessed that the picture he draws is in many respects a very tragic one. the moors are the masters of a beautiful country and of many beautiful arts, but they are paralysed by their fatalism and pillaged by their rulers. few races, indeed, have had a more terrible fall than these moors. of the great intellectual civilisation of the arabs no trace remains. the names of averroes and almaimon, of al abbas and ben husa are quite unknown. fez, once the athens of africa, the cradle of the sciences, is now a mere commercial caravansary. its universities have vanished, its library is almost empty. freedom of thought has been killed by the koran, freedom of living by bad government. but mr. stutfield is not without hopes for the future. so far from agreeing with lord salisbury that 'morocco may go her own way,' he strongly supports captain warren's proposition that we should give up gibraltar to spain in exchange for ceuta, and thereby prevent the mediterranean from becoming a french lake, and give england a new granary for corn. the moorish empire, he warns us, is rapidly breaking up, and if in the 'general scramble for africa' that has already begun, the french gain possession of morocco, he points out that our supremacy over the straits will be lost. whatever may be thought of mr. stutfield's political views, and his suggestions for 'multiple control' and 'collective european action,' there is no doubt that in morocco england has interests to defend and a mission to pursue, and this part of the book should be carefully studied. as for the general reader who, we fear, is not as a rule interested in the question of 'multiple control,' if he is a sportsman, he will find in el magreb a capital account of pig- sticking; if he is artistic, he will be delighted to know that the importation of magenta into morocco is strictly prohibited; if criminal jurisprudence has any charms for him, he can examine a code that punishes slander by rubbing cayenne pepper into the lips of the offender; and if he is merely lazy, he can take a pleasant ride of twelve hundred miles in mr. stutfield's company without stirring out of his armchair. el magreb: twelve hundred miles' ride through morocco. by hugh stutfield. (sampson low, marston and co.) the children of the poets (pall mall gazette, october , .) the idea of this book is exceedingly charming. as children themselves are the perfect flowers of life, so a collection of the best poems written on children should be the most perfect of all anthologies. yet, the book itself is not by any means a success. many of the loveliest child-poems in our literature are excluded and not a few feeble and trivial poems are inserted. the editor's work is characterised by sins of omission and of commission, and the collection, consequently, is very incomplete and very unsatisfactory. andrew marvell's exquisite poem the picture of little t. c., for instance, does not appear in mr. robertson's volume, nor the young love of the same author, nor the beautiful elegy ben jonson wrote on the death of salathiel pavy, the little boy-actor of his plays. waller's verses also, to my young lady lucy sidney, deserve a place in an anthology of this kind, and so do mr. matthew arnold's lines to a gipsy child, and edgar allan poe's annabel lee, a little lyric full of strange music and strange romance. there is possibly much to be said in favour of such a poem as that which ends with and i thank my god with falling tears for the things in the bottom drawer: but how different it is from _i_ was a child, and _she_ was a child, in this kingdom by the sea; but we loved with a love that was more than love-- i and my annabel lee; with a love that the winged seraphs of heaven coveted her and me the selection from blake, again, is very incomplete, many of the loveliest poems being excluded, such as those on the little girl lost and the little girl found, the cradle song, infant joy, and others; nor can we find sir henry wotton's hymn upon the birth of prince charles, sir william jones's dainty four-line epigram on the babe, or the delightful lines to t. l. h., a child, by charles lamb. the gravest omission, however, is certainly that of herrick. not a single poem of his appears in mr. robertson's collection. and yet no english poet has written of children with more love and grace and delicacy. his ode on the birth of our saviour, his poem to his saviour, a child: a present by a child, his graces for children, and his many lovely epitaphs on children are all of them exquisite works of art, simple, sweet and sincere. an english anthology of child-poems that excludes herrick is as an english garden without its roses and an english woodland without its singing birds; and for one verse of herrick we would gladly give in exchange even those long poems by mr. ashby-sterry, miss menella smedley, and mr. lewis morris (of penrhyn), to which mr. robertson has assigned a place in his collection. mr. robertson, also, should take care when he publishes a poem to publish it correctly. mr. bret harte's dickens in camp, for instance, is completely spoiled by two ridiculous misprints. in the first line 'dimpling' is substituted for 'drifting' to the entire ruin of rhyme and reason, and in the ninth verse 'the _pensive glory_ that fills the kentish hills' appears as 'the persian glory . . .' with a large capital p! mistakes such as these are quite unpardonable, and make one feel that, perhaps, after all it was fortunate for herrick that he was left out. a poet can survive everything but a misprint. as for mr. robertson's preface, like most of the prefaces in the canterbury series, it is very carelessly written. such a sentence as 'i . . . believe that mrs. piatt's poems, in particular, will come to many readers, fresh, as well as delightful contributions from across the ocean,' is painful to read. nor is the matter much better than the manner. it is fantastic to say that raphael's pictures of the madonna and child dealt a deadly blow to the monastic life, and to say, with reference to greek art, that 'cupid by the side of venus enables us to forget that most of her sighs are wanton' is a very crude bit of art criticism indeed. wordsworth, again, should hardly be spoken of as one who 'was not, in the general, a man from whom human sympathies welled profusely,' but this criticism is as nothing compared to the passage where mr. robertson tells us that the scene between arthur and hubert in king john is not true to nature because the child's pleadings for his life are playful as well as piteous. indeed, mr. robertson, forgetting mamillius as completely as he misunderstands arthur, states very clearly that shakespeare has not given us any deep readings of child nature. paradoxes are always charming, but judgments such as these are not paradoxical; they are merely provincial. on the whole, mr. robertson's book will not do. it is, we fully admit, an industrious compilation, but it is not an anthology, it is not a selection of the best, for it lacks the discrimination and good taste which is the essence of selection, and for the want of which no amount of industry can atone. the child-poems of our literature have still to be edited. the children of the poets: an anthology from english and american writers of three generations. edited, with an introduction, by eric s. robertson. (walter scott.) new novels (pall mall gazette, october , .) astray: a tale of a country town, is a very serious volume. it has taken four people to write it, and even to read it requires assistance. its dulness is premeditated and deliberate and comes from a laudable desire to rescue fiction from flippancy. it is, in fact, tedious from the noblest motives and wearisome through its good intentions. yet the story itself is not an uninteresting one. quite the contrary. it deals with the attempt of a young doctor to build up a noble manhood on the ruins of a wasted youth. burton king, while little more than a reckless lad, forges the name of a dying man, is arrested and sent to penal servitude for seven years. on his discharge he comes to live with his sisters in a little country town and finds that his real punishment begins when he is free, for prison has made him a pariah. still, through the nobility and self-sacrifice of his life, he gradually wins himself a position, and ultimately marries the prettiest girl in the book. his character is, on the whole, well drawn, and the authors have almost succeeded in making him good without making him priggish. the method, however, by which the story is told is extremely tiresome. it consists of an interminable series of long letters by different people and of extracts from various diaries. the book consequently is piecemeal and unsatisfactory. it fails in producing any unity of effect. it contains the rough material for a story, but is not a completed work of art. it is, in fact, more of a notebook than a novel. we fear that too many collaborators are like too many cooks and spoil the dinner. still, in this tale of a country town there are certain solid qualities, and it is a book that one can with perfect safety recommend to other people. miss rhoda broughton belongs to a very different school. no one can ever say of her that she has tried to separate flippancy from fiction, and whatever harsh criticisms may be passed on the construction of her sentences, she at least possesses that one touch of vulgarity that makes the whole world kin. we are sorry, however, to see from a perusal of betty's visions that miss broughton has been attending the meetings of the psychical society in search of copy. mysticism is not her mission, and telepathy should be left to messrs. myers and gurney. in philistia lies miss broughton's true sphere, and to philistia she should return. she knows more about the vanities of this world than about this world's visions, and a possible garrison town is better than an impossible ghost- land. that other person, who gives mrs. alfred hunt the title for her three- volume novel, is a young girl, by name hester langdale, who for the sake of mr. godfrey daylesford sacrifices everything a woman can sacrifice, and, on his marrying some one else, becomes a hospital nurse. the hospital nurse idea is perhaps used by novelists a little too often in cases of this kind; still, it has an artistic as well as an ethical value. the interest of the story centres, however, in mr. daylesford, who marries not for love but for ambition, and is rather severely punished for doing so. mrs. daylesford has a sister called polly who develops, according to the approved psychological method, from a hobbledehoy girl into a tender sweet woman. polly is delightfully drawn, but the most attractive character in the book, strangely enough, is mr. godfrey daylesford. he is very weak, but he is very charming. so charming indeed is he, that it is only when one closes the book that one thinks of censuring him. while we are in direct contact with him we are fascinated. such a character has at any rate the morality of truth about it. here literature has faithfully followed life. mrs. hunt writes a very pleasing style, bright and free from affectation. indeed, everything in her work is clever except the title. a child of the revolution is by the accomplished authoress of the atelier du lys. the scene opens in france in , and the plot is extremely ingenious. the wife of jacques vaudes, a lyons deputy, loses by illness her baby girl while her husband is absent in paris where he has gone to see danton. at the instigation of an old priest she adopts a child of the same age, a little orphan of noble birth, whose parents have died in the reign of terror, and passes it off as her own. her husband, a stern and ardent republican, worships the child with a passion like that of jean valjean for cosette, nor is it till she has grown to perfect womanhood that he discovers that he has given his love to the daughter of his enemy. this is a noble story, but the workmanship, though good of its kind, is hardly adequate to the idea. the style lacks grace, movement and variety. it is correct but monotonous. seriousness, like property, has its duties as well as its rights, and the first duty of a novel is to please. a child of the revolution hardly does that. still it has merits. aphrodite is a romance of ancient hellas. the supposed date, as given in the first line of miss safford's admirable translation, is b.c. this, however, is probably a misprint. at least, we cannot believe that so careful an archaeologist as ernst eckstein would talk of a famous school of sculpture existing at athens in the sixth century, and the whole character of the civilisation is of a much later date. the book may be described as a new setting of the tale of acontius and cydippe, and though eckstein is a sort of literary tadema and cares more for his backgrounds than he does for his figures, still he can tell a story very well, and his hero is made of flesh and blood. as regards the style, the germans have not the same feeling as we have about technicalities in literature. to our ears such words as 'phoreion,' 'secos,' 'oionistes,' 'thyrides' and the like sound harshly in a novel and give an air of pedantry, not of picturesqueness. yet in its tone aphrodite reminds us of the late greek novels. indeed, it might be one of the lost tales of miletus. it deserves to have many readers and a better binding. ( ) astray: a tale of a country town. by charlotte m. yonge, mary bramston, christabel coleridge and esme stuart. (hatchards.) ( ) betty's visions. by rhoda broughton. (routledge and sons.) ( ) that other person. by mrs. alfred hunt. (chatto and windus.) ( ) a child of the revolution. by the author of mademoiselle mori. (hatchards.) ( ) aphrodite. translated from the german of ernst eckstein by mary j. safford. (new york: williams and gottsberger; london: trubner and co.) a politician's poetry (pall mall gazette, november , .) although it is against etiquette to quote greek in parliament, homer has always been a great favourite with our statesmen and, indeed, may be said to be almost a factor in our political life. for as the cross-benches form a refuge for those who have no minds to make up, so those who cannot make up their minds always take to homeric studies. many of our leaders have sulked in their tents with achilles after some violent political crisis and, enraged at the fickleness of fortune, more than one has given up to poetry what was obviously meant for party. it would be unjust, however, to regard lord carnarvon's translation of the odyssey as being in any sense a political manifesto. between calypso and the colonies there is no connection, and the search for penelope has nothing to do with the search for a policy. the love of literature alone has produced this version of the marvellous greek epic, and to the love of literature alone it appeals. as lord carnarvon says very truly in his preface, each generation in turn delights to tell the story of odysseus in its own language, for the story is one that never grows old. of the labours of his predecessors in translation lord carnarvon makes ample recognition, though we acknowledge that we do not consider pope's homer 'the work of a great poet,' and we must protest that there is more in chapman than 'quaint elizabethan conceits.' the metre he has selected is blank verse, which he regards as the best compromise between 'the inevitable redundancy of rhyme and the stricter accuracy of prose.' this choice is, on the whole, a sensible one. blank verse undoubtedly gives the possibility of a clear and simple rendering of the original. upon the other hand, though we may get homer's meaning, we often miss his music. the ten-syllabled line brings but a faint echo of the long roll of the homeric hexameter, its rapid movement and continuous harmony. besides, except in the hands of a great master of song, blank verse is apt to be tedious, and lord carnarvon's use of the weak ending, his habit of closing the line with an unimportant word, is hardly consistent with the stateliness of an epic, however valuable it might be in dramatic verse. now and then, also, lord carnarvon exaggerates the value of the homeric adjective, and for one word in the greek gives us a whole line in the english. the simple [greek text], for instance, is converted into 'and when the shades of evening fall around,' in the second book, and elsewhere purely decorative epithets are expanded into elaborate descriptions. however, there are many pleasing qualities in lord carnarvon's verse, and though it may not contain much subtlety of melody, still it has often a charm and sweetness of its own. the description of calypso's garden, for example, is excellent: around the grotto grew a goodly grove, alder, and poplar, and the cypress sweet; and the deep-winged sea-birds found their haunt, and owls and hawks, and long-tongued cormorants, who joy to live upon the briny flood. and o'er the face of the deep cave a vine wove its wild tangles and clustering grapes. four fountains too, each from the other turned, poured their white waters, whilst the grassy meads bloomed with the parsley and the violet's flower. the story of the cyclops is not very well told. the grotesque humour of the giant's promise hardly appears in thee then, noman, last of all will i devour, and this thy gift shall be, and the bitter play on words odysseus makes, the pun on [greek text], in fact, is not noticed. the idyll of nausicaa, however, is very gracefully translated, and there is a great deal that is delightful in the circe episode. for simplicity of diction this is also very good: so to olympus through the woody isle hermes departed, and i went my way to circe's halls, sore troubled in my mind. but by the fair-tressed goddess' gate i stood, and called upon her, and she heard my voice, and forth she came and oped the shining doors and bade me in; and sad at heart i went. then did she set me on a stately chair, studded with silver nails of cunning work, with footstool for my feet, and mixed a draught of her foul witcheries in golden cup, for evil was her purpose. from her hand i took the cup and drained it to the dregs, nor felt the magic charm; but with her rod she smote me, and she said, 'go, get thee hence and herd thee with thy fellows in the stye.' so spake she, and straightway i drew my sword upon the witch, and threatened her with death. lord carnarvon, on the whole, has given us a very pleasing version of the first half of the odyssey. his translation is done in a scholarly and careful manner and deserves much praise. it is not quite homer, of course, but no translation can hope to be that, for no work of art can afford to lose its style or to give up the manner that is essential to it. still, those who cannot read greek will find much beauty in it, and those who can will often gain a charming reminiscence. the odyssey of homer. books i.-xii. translated into english verse by the earl of carnarvon. (macmillan and co.) mr. symonds' history of the renaissance (pall mall gazette, november , .) mr. symonds has at last finished his history of the italian renaissance. the two volumes just published deal with the intellectual and moral conditions in italy during the seventy years of the sixteenth century which followed the coronation of charles the fifth at bologna, an era to which mr. symonds gives the name of the catholic reaction, and they contain a most interesting and valuable account of the position of spain in the italian peninsula, the conduct of the tridentine council, the specific organisation of the holy office and the company of jesus, and the state of society upon which those forces were brought to bear. in his previous volumes mr. symonds had regarded the past rather as a picture to be painted than as a problem to be solved. in these two last volumes, however, he shows a clearer appreciation of the office of history. the art of the picturesque chronicler is completed by something like the science of the true historian, the critical spirit begins to manifest itself, and life is not treated as a mere spectacle, but the laws of its evolution and progress are investigated also. we admit that the desire to represent life at all costs under dramatic conditions still accompanies mr. symonds, and that he hardly realises that what seems romance to us was harsh reality to those who were engaged in it. like most dramatists, also, he is more interested in the psychological exceptions than in the general rule. he has something of shakespeare's sovereign contempt of the masses. the people stir him very little, but he is fascinated by great personalities. yet it is only fair to remember that the age itself was one of exaggerated individualism and that literature had not yet become a mouthpiece for the utterances of humanity. men appreciated the aristocracy of intellect, but with the democracy of suffering they had no sympathy. the cry from the brickfields had still to be heard. mr. symonds' style, too, has much improved. here and there, it is true, we come across traces of the old manner, as in the apocalyptic vision of the seven devils that entered italy with the spaniard, and the description of the inquisition as a belial-moloch, a 'hideous idol whose face was blackened with soot from burning human flesh.' such a sentence, also, as 'over the dead sea of social putrefaction floated the sickening oil of jesuitical hypocrisy,' reminds us that rhetoric has not yet lost its charms for mr. symonds. still, on the whole, the style shows far more reserve, balance and sobriety, than can be found in the earlier volumes where violent antithesis forms the predominant characteristic, and accuracy is often sacrificed to an adjective. amongst the most interesting chapters of the book are those on the inquisition, on sarpi, the great champion of the severance of church from state, and on giordano bruno. indeed the story of bruno's life, from his visit to london and oxford, his sojourn in paris and wanderings through germany, down to his betrayal at venice and martyrdom at rome, is most powerfully told, and the estimate of the value of his philosophy and the relation he holds to modern science, is at once just and appreciative. the account also of ignatius loyola and the rise of the society of jesus is extremely interesting, though we cannot think that mr. symonds is very happy in his comparison of the jesuits to 'fanatics laying stones upon a railway' or 'dynamiters blowing up an emperor or a corner of westminster hall.' such a judgment is harsh and crude in expression and more suitable to the clamour of the protestant union than to the dignity of the true historian. mr. symonds, however, is rarely deliberately unfair, and there is no doubt but that his work on the catholic reaction is a most valuable contribution to modern history--so valuable, indeed, that in the account he gives of the inquisition in venice it would be well worth his while to bring the picturesque fiction of the text into some harmony with the plain facts of the footnote. on the poetry of the sixteenth century mr. symonds has, of course, a great deal to say, and on such subjects he always writes with ease, grace, and delicacy of perception. we admit that we weary sometimes of the continual application to literature of epithets appropriate to plastic and pictorial art. the conception of the unity of the arts is certainly of great value, but in the present condition of criticism it seems to us that it would be more useful to emphasise the fact that each art has its separate method of expression. the essay on tasso, however, is delightful reading, and the position the poet holds towards modern music and modern sentiment is analysed with much subtlety. the essay on marino also is full of interest. we have often wondered whether those who talk so glibly of euphuism and marinism in literature have ever read either euphues or the adone. to the latter they can have no better guide than mr. symonds, whose description of the poem is most fascinating. marino, like many greater men, has suffered much from his disciples, but he himself was a master of graceful fancy and of exquisite felicity of phrase; not, of course, a great poet but certainly an artist in poetry and one to whom language is indebted. even those conceits that mr. symonds feels bound to censure have something charming about them. the continual use of periphrases is undoubtedly a grave fault in style, yet who but a pedant would really quarrel with such periphrases as sirena de' boschi for the nightingale, or il novella edimione for galileo? from the poets mr. symonds passes to the painters: not those great artists of florence and venice of whom he has already written, but the eclectics of bologna, the naturalists of naples and rome. this chapter is too polemical to be pleasant. the one on music is much better, and mr. symonds gives us a most interesting description of the gradual steps by which the italian genius passed from poetry and painting to melody and song, till the whole of europe thrilled with the marvel and mystery of this new language of the soul. some small details should perhaps be noticed. it is hardly accurate, for instance, to say that monteverde's orfeo was the first form of the recitative-opera, as peri's dafne and euridice and cavaliere's rappresentazione preceded it by some years, and it is somewhat exaggerated to say that 'under the regime of the commonwealth the national growth of english music received a check from which it never afterwards recovered,' as it was with cromwell's auspices that the first english opera was produced, thirteen years before any opera was regularly established in paris. the fact that england did not make such development in music as italy and germany did, must be ascribed to other causes than 'the prevalence of puritan opinion.' these, however, are minor points. mr. symonds is to be warmly congratulated on the completion of his history of the renaissance in italy. it is a most wonderful monument of literary labour, and its value to the student of humanism cannot be doubted. we have often had occasion to differ from mr. symonds on questions of detail, and we have more than once felt it our duty to protest against the rhetoric and over-emphasis of his style, but we fully recognise the importance of his work and the impetus he has given to the study of one of the vital periods of the world's history. mr. symonds' learning has not made him a pedant; his culture has widened not narrowed his sympathies, and though he can hardly be called a great historian, yet he will always occupy a place in english literature as one of the remarkable men of letters in the nineteenth century. renaissance in italy: the catholic reaction. in two parts. by john addington symonds. (smith, elder and co.) a 'jolly' art critic (pall mall gazette, november , .) there is a healthy bank-holiday atmosphere about this book which is extremely pleasant. mr. quilter is entirely free from affectation of any kind. he rollicks through art with the recklessness of the tourist and describes its beauties with the enthusiasm of the auctioneer. to many, no doubt, he will seem to be somewhat blatant and bumptious, but we prefer to regard him as being simply british. mr. quilter is the apostle of the middle classes, and we are glad to welcome his gospel. after listening so long to the don quixote of art, to listen once to sancho panza is both salutary and refreshing. as for his sententiae, they differ very widely in character and subject. some of them are ethical, such as 'humility may be carried too far'; some literary, as 'for one froude there are a thousand mrs. markhams'; and some scientific, as 'objects which are near display more detail than those which are further off.' some, again, breathe a fine spirit of optimism, as 'picturesqueness is the birthright of the bargee'; others are jubilant, as 'paint firm and be jolly'; and many are purely autobiographical, such as no. , 'few of us understand what it is that we mean by art.' nor is mr. quilter's manner less interesting than his matter. he tells us that at this festive season of the year, with christmas and roast beef looming before us, 'similes drawn from eating and its results occur most readily to the mind.' so he announces that 'subject is the diet of painting,' that 'perspective is the bread of art,' and that 'beauty is in some way like jam'; drawings, he points out, 'are not made by recipe like puddings,' nor is art composed of 'suet, raisins, and candied peel,' though mr. cecil lawson's landscapes do 'smack of indigestion.' occasionally, it is true, he makes daring excursions into other realms of fancy, as when he says that 'in the best reynolds landscapes, one seems _to smell the sawdust_,' or that 'advance in art is of a _kangaroo_ character'; but, on the whole, he is happiest in his eating similes, and the secret of his style is evidently 'la metaphore vient en mangeant.' about artists and their work mr. quilter has, of course, a great deal to say. sculpture he regards as 'painting's poor relation'; so, with the exception of a jaunty allusion to the 'rough modelling' of tanagra figurines he hardly refers at all to the plastic arts; but on painters he writes with much vigour and joviality. holbein's wonderful court portraits naturally do not give him much pleasure; in fact, he compares them as works of art to the sham series of scottish kings at holyrood; but dore, he tells us, had a wider imaginative range in all subjects where the gloomy and the terrible played leading parts than probably any artist who ever lived, and may be called 'the carlyle of artists.' in gainsborough he sees 'a plainness almost amounting to brutality,' while 'vulgarity and snobbishness' are the chief qualities he finds in sir joshua reynolds. he has grave doubts whether sir frederick leighton's work is really 'greek, after all,' and can discover in it but little of 'rocky ithaca.' mr. poynter, however, is a cart-horse compared to the president, and frederick walker was 'a dull greek' because he had no 'sympathy with poetry.' linnell's pictures, are 'a sort of "up, guards, and at 'em" paintings,' and mason's exquisite idylls are 'as national as a jingo poem'! mr. birket foster's landscapes 'smile at one much in the same way that mr. carker used to "flash his teeth,"' and mr. john collier gives his sitter 'a cheerful slap on the back, before he says, like a shampooer in a turkish bath, "next man!" mr. herkomer's art is, 'if not a catch-penny art, at all events a catch-many-pounds art,' and mr. w. b. richmond is a 'clever trifler,' who 'might do really good work' 'if he would employ his time in learning to paint.' it is obviously unnecessary for us to point out how luminous these criticisms are, how delicate in expression. the remarks on sir joshua reynolds alone exemplify the truth of sententia no. , 'from a picture we gain but little more than we bring.' on the general principles of art mr. quilter writes with equal lucidity. that there is a difference between colour and colours, that an artist, be he portrait-painter or dramatist, always reveals himself in his manner, are ideas that can hardly be said to occur to him; but mr. quilter really does his best and bravely faces every difficulty in modern art, with the exception of mr. whistler. painting, he tells us, is 'of a different quality to mathematics,' and finish in art is 'adding more fact'! portrait painting is a bad pursuit for an emotional artist as it destroys his personality and his sympathy; however, even for the emotional artist there is hope, as a portrait can be converted into a picture 'by adding to the likeness of the sitter some dramatic interest or some picturesque adjunct'! as for etchings, they are of two kinds--british and foreign. the latter fail in 'propriety.' yet, 'really fine etching is as free and easy as is the chat between old chums at midnight over a smoking-room fire.' consonant with these rollicking views of art is mr. quilter's healthy admiration for 'the three primary colours: red, blue, and yellow.' any one, he points out, 'can paint in good tone who paints only in black and white,' and 'the great sign of a good decorator' is 'his capability of doing without neutral tints.' indeed, on decoration mr. quilter is almost eloquent. he laments most bitterly the divorce that has been made between decorative art and 'what we usually call "pictures,"' makes the customary appeal to the last judgment, and reminds us that in the great days of art michael angelo was the 'furnishing upholsterer.' with the present tendencies of decorative art in england mr. quilter, consequently, has but little sympathy, and he makes a gallant appeal to the british householder to stand no more nonsense. let the honest fellow, he says, on his return from his counting-house tear down the persian hangings, put a chop on the anatolian plate, mix some toddy in the venetian glass, and carry his wife off to the national gallery to look at 'our own mulready'! and then the picture he draws of the ideal home, where everything, though ugly, is hallowed by domestic memories, and where beauty appeals not to the heartless eye but the family affections; 'baby's chair there, and the mother's work-basket . . . near the fire, and the ornaments fred brought home from india on the mantel-board'! it is really impossible not to be touched by so charming a description. how valuable, also, in connection with house decoration is sententia no. , 'there is nothing furnishes a room like a bookcase, _and plenty of books in it_.' how cultivated the mind that thus raises literature to the position of upholstery and puts thought on a level with the antimacassar! and, finally, for the young workers in art mr. quilter has loud words of encouragement. with a sympathy that is absolutely reckless of grammar, he knows from experience 'what an amount of study and mental strain _are_ involved in painting a bad picture honestly'; he exhorts them (sententia no. ) to 'go on quite bravely and sincerely making mess after mess from nature,' and while sternly warning them that there is something wrong if they do not 'feel _washed out_ after each drawing,' he still urges them to 'put a new piece of goods in the window' every morning. in fact, he is quite severe on mr. ruskin for not recognising that 'a picture should denote the frailty of man,' and remarks with pleasing courtesy and felicitous grace that 'many phases of feeling . . . are as much a dead letter to this great art teacher, as sanskrit to an islington cabman.' nor is mr. quilter one of those who fails to practice what he preaches. far from it. he goes on quite bravely and sincerely making mess after mess from literature, and misquotes shakespeare, wordsworth, alfred de musset, mr. matthew arnold, mr. swinburne, and mr. fitzgerald's rubaiyat, in strict accordance with sententia no. , which tells us that 'work must be abominable if it is ever going to be good.' only, unfortunately, his own work never does get good. not content with his misquotations, he misspells the names of such well-known painters as madox-brown, bastien lepage and meissonier, hesitates between ingres and ingres, talks of _mr_. millais and _mr_. linton, alludes to mr. frank holl simply as 'hall,' speaks with easy familiarity of mr. burne-jones as 'jones,' and writes of the artist whom he calls 'old chrome' with an affection that reminds us of mr. tulliver's love for jeremy taylor. on the whole, the book will not do. we fully admit that it is extremely amusing and, no doubt, mr. quilter is quite earnest in his endeavours to elevate art to the dignity of manual labour, but the extraordinary vulgarity of the style alone will always be sufficient to prevent these sententiae artis from being anything more than curiosities of literature. mr. quilter has missed his chance; for he has failed even to make himself the tupper of painting. sententiae: artis: first principles of art for painters and picture lovers. by harry quilter, m.a. (isbister.) [a reply to this review appeared on november .] a sentimental journey through literature (pall mall gazette, december , .) this is undoubtedly an interesting book, not merely through its eloquence and earnestness, but also through the wonderful catholicity of taste that it displays. mr. noel has a passion for panegyric. his eulogy on keats is closely followed by a eulogy on whitman, and his praise of lord tennyson is equalled only by his praise of mr. robert buchanan. sometimes, we admit, we would like a little more fineness of discrimination, a little more delicacy of perception. sincerity of utterance is valuable in a critic, but sanity of judgment is more valuable still, and mr. noel's judgments are not always distinguished by their sobriety. many of the essays, however, are well worth reading. the best is certainly that on the poetic interpretation of nature, in which mr. noel claims that what is called by mr. ruskin the 'pathetic fallacy of literature' is in reality a vital emotional truth; but the essays on hugo and mr. browning are good also; the little paper entitled rambles by the cornish seas is a real marvel of delightful description, and the monograph on chatterton has a good deal of merit, though we must protest very strongly against mr. noel's idea that chatterton must be modernised before he can be appreciated. mr. noel has absolutely no right whatsoever to alter chatterton's' yonge damoyselles' and '_anlace_ fell' into 'youthful damsels' and '_weapon_ fell,' for chatterton's archaisms were an essential part of his inspiration and his method. mr. noel in one of his essays speaks with much severity of those who prefer sound to sense in poetry and, no doubt, this is a very wicked thing to do; but he himself is guilty of a much graver sin against art when, in his desire to emphasise the meaning of chatterton, he destroys chatterton's music. in the modernised version he gives of the wonderful songe to aella, he mars by his corrections the poem's metrical beauty, ruins the rhymes and robs the music of its echo. nineteenth-century restorations have done quite enough harm to english architecture without english poetry being treated in the same manner, and we hope that when mr. noel writes again about chatterton he will quote from the poet's verse, not from a publisher's version. this, however, is not by any means the chief blot on mr. noel's book. the fault of his book is that it tells us far more about his own personal feelings than it does about the qualities of the various works of art that are criticised. it is in fact a diary of the emotions suggested by literature, rather than any real addition to literary criticism, and we fancy that many of the poets about whom he writes so eloquently would be not a little surprised at the qualities he finds in their work. byron, for instance, who spoke with such contempt of what he called 'twaddling about trees and babbling o' green fields'; byron who cried, 'away with this cant about nature! a good poet can imbue a pack of cards with more poetry than inhabits the forests of america,' is claimed by mr. noel as a true nature-worshipper and pantheist along with wordsworth and shelley; and we wonder what keats would have thought of a critic who gravely suggests that endymion is 'a parable of the development of the individual soul.' there are two ways of misunderstanding a poem. one is to misunderstand it and the other to praise it for qualities that it does not possess. the latter is mr. noel's method, and in his anxiety to glorify the artist he often does so at the expense of the work of art. mr. noel also is constantly the victim of his own eloquence. so facile is his style that it constantly betrays him into crude and extravagant statements. rhetoric and over-emphasis are the dangers that mr. noel has not always succeeded in avoiding. it is extravagant, for instance, to say that all great poetry has been 'pictorial,' or that coleridge's knight's grave is worth many kubla khans, or that byron has 'the splendid imperfection of an aeschylus,' or that we had lately 'one dramatist living in england, and only one, who could be compared to hugo, and that was richard hengist horne,' and that 'to find an english dramatist of the same order before him we must go back to sheridan if not to otway.' mr. noel, again, has a curious habit of classing together the most incongruous names and comparing the most incongruous works of art. what is gained by telling us that 'sardanapalus' is perhaps hardly equal to 'sheridan,' that lord tennyson's ballad of the revenge and his ode on the death of the duke of wellington are worthy of a place beside thomson's rule britannia, that edgar allan poe, disraeli and mr. alfred austin are artists of note whom we may affiliate on byron, and that if sappho and milton 'had not high genius, they would be justly reproached as sensational'? and surely it is a crude judgment that classes baudelaire, of all poets, with marini and mediaeval troubadours, and a crude style that writes of 'goethe, shelley, scott, and wilson,' for a mortal should not thus intrude upon the immortals, even though he be guilty of holding with them that cain is 'one of the finest poems in the english language.' it is only fair, however, to add that mr. noel subsequently makes more than ample amends for having opened parnassus to the public in this reckless manner, by calling wilson an 'offal-feeder,' on the ground that he once wrote a severe criticism of some of lord tennyson's early poems. for mr. noel does not mince his words. on the contrary, he speaks with much scorn of all euphuism and delicacy of expression and, preferring the affectation of nature to the affectation of art, he thinks nothing of calling other people 'laura bridgmans,' 'jackasses' and the like. this, we think, is to be regretted, especially in a writer so cultured as mr. noel. for, though indignation may make a great poet, bad temper always makes a poor critic. on the whole, mr. noel's book has an emotional rather than an intellectual interest. it is simply a record of the moods of a man of letters, and its criticisms merely reveal the critic without illuminating what he would criticise for us. the best that we can say of it is that it is a sentimental journey through literature, the worst that any one could say of it is that it has all the merits of such an expedition. essays on poetry and poets. by the hon. roden noel. (kegan paul.) common-sense in art (pall mall gazette, january , .) at this critical moment in the artistic development of england mr. john collier has come forward as the champion of common-sense in art. it will be remembered that mr. quilter, in one of his most vivid and picturesque metaphors, compared mr. collier's method as a painter to that of a shampooer in a turkish bath. { } as a writer mr. collier is no less interesting. it is true that he is not eloquent, but then he censures with just severity 'the meaningless eloquence of the writers on aesthetics'; we admit that he is not subtle, but then he is careful to remind us that leonardo da vinci's views on painting are nonsensical; his qualities are of a solid, indeed we may say of a stolid order; he is thoroughly honest, sturdy and downright, and he advises us, if we want to know anything about art, to study the works of 'helmholtz, stokes, or tyndall,' to which we hope we may be allowed to add mr. collier's own manual of oil painting. for this art of painting is a very simple thing indeed, according to mr. collier. it consists merely in the 'representation of natural objects by means of pigments on a flat surface.' there is nothing, he tells us, 'so very mysterious' in it after all. 'every natural object appears to us as a sort of pattern of different shades and colours,' and 'the task of the artist is so to arrange his shades and colours on his canvas that a similar pattern is produced.' this is obviously pure common-sense, and it is clear that art-definitions of this character can be comprehended by the very meanest capacity and, indeed, may be said to appeal to it. for the perfect development, however, of this pattern-producing faculty a severe training is necessary. the art student must begin by painting china, crockery, and 'still life' generally. he should rule his straight lines and employ actual measurements wherever it is possible. he will also find that a plumb-line comes in very useful. then he should proceed to greek sculpture, for from pottery to phidias is only one step. ultimately he will arrive at the living model, and as soon as he can 'faithfully represent any object that he has before him' he is a painter. after this there is, of course, only one thing to be considered, the important question of subject. subjects, mr. collier tells us, are of two kinds, ancient and modern. modern subjects are more healthy than ancient subjects, but the real difficulty of modernity in art is that the artist passes his life with respectable people, and that respectable people are unpictorial. 'for picturesqueness,' consequently, he should go to 'the rural poor,' and for pathos to the london slums. ancient subjects offer the artist a very much wider field. if he is fond of 'rich stuffs and costly accessories' he should study the middle ages; if he wishes to paint beautiful people, 'untrammelled by any considerations of historical accuracy,' he should turn to the greek and roman mythology; and if he is a 'mediocre painter,' he should choose his 'subject from the old and new testament,' a recommendation, by the way, that many of our royal academicians seem already to have carried out. to paint a real historical picture one requires the assistance of a theatrical costumier and a photographer. from the former one hires the dresses and the latter supplies one with the true background. besides subject-pictures there are also portraits and landscapes. portrait painting, mr. collier tells us, 'makes no demands on the imagination.' as is the sitter, so is the work of art. if the sitter be commonplace, for instance, it would be 'contrary to the fundamental principles of portraiture to make the picture other than commonplace.' there are, however, certain rules that should be followed. one of the most important of these is that the artist should always consult his sitter's relations before he begins the picture. if they want a profile he must do them a profile; if they require a full face he must give them a full face; and he should be careful also to get their opinion as to the costume the sitter should wear and 'the sort of expression he should put on.' 'after all,' says mr. collier pathetically, 'it is they who have to live with the picture.' besides the difficulty of pleasing the victim's family, however, there is the difficulty of pleasing the victim. according to mr. collier, and he is, of course, a high authority on the matter, portrait painters bore their sitters very much. the true artist consequently should encourage his sitter to converse, or get some one to read to him; for if the sitter is bored the portrait will look sad. still, if the sitter has not got an amiable expression naturally the artist is not bound to give him one, nor 'if he is essentially ungraceful' should the artist ever 'put him in a graceful attitude.' as regards landscape painting, mr. collier tells us that 'a great deal of nonsense has been talked about the impossibility of reproducing nature,' but that there is nothing really to prevent a picture giving to the eye exactly the same impression that an actual scene gives, for that when he visited 'the celebrated panorama of the siege of paris' he could hardly distinguish the painted from the real cannons! the whole passage is extremely interesting, and is really one out of many examples we might give of the swift and simple manner in which the common-sense method solves the great problems of art. the book concludes with a detailed exposition of the undulatory theory of light according to the most ancient scientific discoveries. mr. collier points out how important it is for an artist to hold sound views on the subject of ether waves, and his own thorough appreciation of science may be estimated by the definition he gives of it as being 'neither more nor less than knowledge.' mr. collier has done his work with much industry and earnestness. indeed, nothing but the most conscientious seriousness, combined with real labour, could have produced such a book, and the exact value of common- sense in art has never before been so clearly demonstrated. a manual of oil painting. by the hon. john collier. (cassell and co.) miner and minor poets (pall mall gazette, february , .) the conditions that precede artistic production are so constantly treated as qualities of the work of art itself that one sometimes is tempted to wish that all art were anonymous. yet there are certain forms of art so individual in their utterance, so purely personal in their expression, that for a full appreciation of their style and manner some knowledge of the artist's life is necessary. to this class belongs mr. skipsey's carols from the coal-fields, a volume of intense human interest and high literary merit, and we are consequently glad to see that dr. spence watson has added a short biography of his friend to his friend's poems, for the life and the literature are too indissolubly wedded ever really to be separated. joseph skipsey, dr. watson tells us, was sent into the coal pits at percy main, near north shields, when he was seven years of age. young as he was he had to work from twelve to sixteen hours in the day, generally in the pitch dark, and in the dreary winter months he saw the sun only upon sundays. when he went to work he had learned the alphabet and to put words of two letters together, but he was really his own schoolmaster, and 'taught himself to write, for example, by copying the letters from printed bills or notices, when he could get a candle end,--his paper being the trapdoor, which it was his duty to open and shut as the wagons passed through, and his pen a piece of chalk.' the first book he really read was the bible, and not content with reading it, he learned by heart the chapters which specially pleased him. when sixteen years old he was presented with a copy of lindley murray's grammar, by the aid of which he gained some knowledge of the structural rules of english. he had already become acquainted with paradise lost, and was another proof of matthew prior's axiom, 'who often reads will sometimes want to write,' for he had begun to write verse when only 'a bonnie pit lad.' for more than forty years of his life he laboured in 'the coal-dark underground,' and is now the caretaker of a board-school in newcastle-upon-tyne. as for the qualities of his poetry, they are its directness and its natural grace. he has an intellectual as well as a metrical affinity with blake, and possesses something of blake's marvellous power of making simple things seem strange to us, and strange things seem simple. how delightful, for instance, is this little poem: 'get up!' the caller calls, 'get up!' and in the dead of night, to win the bairns their bite and sup, i rise a weary wight. my flannel dudden donn'd, thrice o'er my birds are kiss'd, and then i with a whistle shut the door i may not ope again. how exquisite and fanciful this stray lyric: the wind comes from the west to-night; so sweetly down the lane he bloweth upon my lips, with pure delight from head to foot my body gloweth. where did the wind, the magic find to charm me thus? say, heart that knoweth! 'within a rose on which he blows before upon thy lips he bloweth!' we admit that mr. skipsey's work is extremely unequal, but when it is at its best it is full of sweetness and strength; and though he has carefully studied the artistic capabilities of language, he never makes his form formal by over-polishing. beauty with him seems to be an unconscious result rather than a conscious aim; his style has all the delicate charm of chance. we have already pointed out his affinity to blake, but with burns also he may be said to have a spiritual kinship, and in the songs of the northumbrian miner we meet with something of the ayrshire peasant's wild gaiety and mad humour. he gives himself up freely to his impressions, and there is a fine, careless rapture in his laughter. the whole book deserves to be read, and much of it deserves to be loved. mr. skipsey can find music for every mood, whether he is dealing with the real experiences of the pitman or with the imaginative experiences of the poet, and his verse has a rich vitality about it. in these latter days of shallow rhymes it is pleasant to come across some one to whom poetry is a passion not a profession. mr. f. b. doveton belongs to a different school. in his amazing versatility he reminds us of the gentleman who wrote the immortal handbills for mrs. jarley, for his subjects range from dr. carter moffatt and the ammoniaphone to mr. whiteley, lady bicyclists, and the immortality of the soul. his verses in praise of zoedone are a fine example of didactic poetry, his elegy on the death of jumbo is quite up to the level of the subject, and the stanzas on a watering-place, who of its merits can e'er think meanly? scattering ozone to all the land! are well worthy of a place in any shilling guidebook. mr. doveton divides his poems into grave and gay, but we like him least when he is amusing, for in his merriment there is but little melody, and he makes his muse grin through a horse-collar. when he is serious he is much better, and his descriptive poems show that he has completely mastered the most approved poetical phraseology. our old friend boreas is as 'burly' as ever, 'zephyrs' are consistently 'amorous,' and 'the welkin rings' upon the smallest provocation; birds are 'the feathered host' or 'the sylvan throng,' the wind 'wantons o'er the lea,' 'vernal gales' murmur to 'crystal rills,' and lempriere's dictionary supplies the latin names for the sun and the moon. armed with these daring and novel expressions mr. doveton indulges in fierce moods of nature-worship, and botanises recklessly through the provinces. now and then, however, we come across some pleasing passages. mr. doveton apparently is an enthusiastic fisherman, and sings merrily of the 'enchanting grayling' and the 'crimson and gold trout' that rise to the crafty angler's 'feathered wile.' still, we fear that he will never produce any real good work till he has made up his mind whether destiny intends him for a poet or for an advertising agent, and we venture to hope that should he ever publish another volume he will find some other rhyme to 'vision' than 'elysian,' a dissonance that occurs five times in this well-meaning but tedious volume. as for mr. ashby-sterry, those who object to the nude in art should at once read his lays of the lazy minstrel and be converted, for over these poems the milliner, not the muse, presides, and the result is a little alarming. as the chelsea sage investigated the philosophy of clothes, so mr. ashby-sterry has set himself to discover the poetry of petticoats, and seems to find much consolation in the thought that, though art is long, skirts are worn short. he is the only pedlar who has climbed parnassus since autolycus sang of lawn as white as driven snow, 'cypress black as e'er was crow, and his details are as amazing as his diminutives. he is capable of penning a canto to a crinoline, and has a pathetic monody on a mackintosh. he sings of pretty puckers and pliant pleats, and is eloquent on frills, frocks and chemisettes. the latest french fashions stir him to a fine frenzy, and the sight of a pair of balmoral boots thrills him with absolute ecstasy. he writes rondels on ribbons, lyrics on linen and lace, and his most ambitious ode is addressed to a tomboy in trouserettes! yet his verse is often dainty and delicate, and many of his poems are full of sweet and pretty conceits. indeed, of the thames at summer time he writes so charmingly, and with such felicitous grace of epithet, that we cannot but regret that he has chosen to make himself the poet of petticoats and the troubadour of trouserettes. ( ) carols from the coal-fields, and other songs and ballads. by joseph skipsey. (walter scott.) ( ) sketches in prose and verse. by f. b. doveton. (sampson low, marston and co.) ( ) the lazy minstrel. by j. ashby-sterry. (fisher unwin.) a new calendar (pall mall gazette, february , .) most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event. their compilers display a degraded passion for chronicling small beer, and rake out the dust-heap of history in an ardent search after rubbish. mr. walter scott, however, has made a new departure and has published a calendar in which every day of the year is made beautiful for us by means of an elegant extract from the poems of mr. alfred austin. this, undoubtedly, is a step in the right direction. it is true that such aphorisms as graves are a _mother's dimples_ when we complain, or the primrose wears a constant smile, and captive takes the heart, can hardly be said to belong to the very highest order of poetry, still, they are preferable, on the whole, to the date of hannah more's birth, or of the burning down of exeter change, or of the opening of the great exhibition; and though it would be dangerous to make calendars the basis of culture, we should all be much improved if we began each day with a fine passage of english poetry. how far this desirable result can be attained by a use of the volume now before us is, perhaps, open to question, but it must be admitted that its anonymous compiler has done his work very conscientiously, nor will we quarrel with him for the fact that he constantly repeats the same quotation twice over. no doubt it was difficult to find in mr. austin's work three hundred and sixty-five different passages really worthy of insertion in an almanac, and, besides, our climate has so degenerated of late that there is no reason at all why a motto perfectly suitable for february should not be equally appropriate when august has set in with its usual severity. for the misprints there is less excuse. even the most uninteresting poet cannot survive bad editing. prefixed to the calendar is an introductory note from the pen of mr. william sharp, written in that involved and affected style which is mr. sharp's distinguishing characteristic, and displaying that intimate acquaintance with sappho's lost poems which is the privilege only of those who are not acquainted with greek literature. as a criticism it is not of much value, but as an advertisement it is quite excellent. indeed, mr. sharp hints mysteriously at secret political influence, and tells us that though mr. austin 'sings with tityrus' yet he 'has conversed with aeneas,' which, we suppose, is a euphemistic method of alluding to the fact that mr. austin once lunched with lord beaconsfield. it is for the poet, however, not for the politician, that mr. sharp reserves his loftiest panegyric and, in his anxiety to smuggle the author of leszko the bastard and grandmother's teaching into the charmed circle of the immortals, he leaves no adjective unturned, quoting and misquoting mr. austin with a recklessness that is absolutely fatal to the cause he pleads. for mediocre critics are usually safe in their generalities; it is in their reasons and examples that they come so lamentably to grief. when, for instance, mr. sharp tells us that lines with the 'natural magic' of shakespeare, keats and coleridge are 'far from infrequent' in mr. austin's poems, all that we can say is that we have never come across any lines of the kind in mr. austin's published works, but it is difficult to help smiling when mr. sharp gravely calls upon us to note 'the illuminative significance' of such a commonplace verse as my manhood keeps the dew of morn, and what have i to give; being right glad that i was born, and thankful that i live. nor do mr. sharp's constant misquotations really help him out of his difficulties. such a line as a meadow ribbed with _drying_ swathes of hay, has at least the merit of being a simple, straightforward description of an ordinary scene in an english landscape, but not much can be said in favour of a meadow ribbed with _dying_ swathes of hay, which is mr. sharp's own version, and one that he finds 'delightfully suggestive.' it is indeed suggestive, but only of that want of care that comes from want of taste. on the whole, mr. sharp has attempted an impossible task. mr. austin is neither an olympian nor a titan, and all the puffing in paternoster row cannot set him on parnassus. his verse is devoid of all real rhythmical life; it may have the metre of poetry, but it has not often got its music, nor can there be any true delicacy in the ear that tolerates such rhymes as 'chord' and 'abroad.' even the claim that mr. sharp puts forward for him, that his muse takes her impressions directly from nature and owes nothing to books, cannot be sustained for a moment. wordsworth is a great poet, but bad echoes of wordsworth are extremely depressing, and when mr. austin calls the cuckoo a voyaging voice and tells us that the stockdove _broods_ low to itself, we must really enter a protest against such silly plagiarisms. perhaps, however, we are treating mr. sharp too seriously. he admits himself that it was at the special request of the compiler of the calendar that he wrote the preface at all, and though he courteously adds that the task is agreeable to him, still he shows only too clearly that he considers it a task and, like a clever lawyer or a popular clergyman, tries to atone for his lack of sincerity by a pleasing over-emphasis. nor is there any reason why this calendar should not be a great success. if published as a broad-sheet, with a picture of mr. austin 'conversing with aeneas,' it might gladden many a simple cottage home and prove a source of innocent amusement to the conservative working-man. days of the year: a poetic calendar from the works of alfred austin. selected and edited by a. s. with introduction by william sharp. (walter scott.) the poets' corner--ii (pall mall gazette, march , .) a little schoolboy was once asked to explain the difference between prose and poetry. after some consideration he replied, '"blue violets" is prose, and "violets blue" is poetry.' the distinction, we admit, is not exhaustive, but it seems to be the one that is extremely popular with our minor poets. opening at random the queens innocent we come across passages like this: full gladly would i sit of such a potent magus at the feet, and this: the third, while yet a youth, espoused a lady noble but not royal, _one only son who gave him_--pharamond-- lines that, apparently, rest their claim to be regarded as poetry on their unnecessary and awkward inversions. yet this poem is not without beauty, and the character of nardi, the little prince who is treated as the court fool, shows a delicate grace of fancy, and is both tender and true. the most delightful thing in the whole volume is a little lyric called april, which is like a picture set to music. the chimneypiece of bruges is a narrative poem in blank verse, and tells us of a young artist who, having been unjustly convicted of his wife's murder, spends his life in carving on the great chimneypiece of the prison the whole story of his love and suffering. the poem is full of colour, but the blank verse is somewhat heavy in movement. there are some pretty things in the book, and a poet without hysterics is rare. dr. dawson burns's oliver cromwell is a pleasant panegyric on the protector, and reads like a prize poem by a nice sixth-form boy. the verses on the good old times should be sent as a leaflet to all tories of mr. chaplin's school, and the lines on bunker's hill, beginning, i stand on bunker's towering pile, are sure to be popular in america. k. e. v.'s little volume is a series of poems on the saints. each poem is preceded by a brief biography of the saint it celebrates--which is a very necessary precaution, as few of them ever existed. it does not display much poetic power, and such lines as these on st. stephen,-- did ever man before so fall asleep? a cruel shower of stones his only bed, for lullaby the curses loud and deep, his covering with blood red-- may be said to add another horror to martyrdom. still it is a thoroughly well-intentioned book and eminently suitable for invalids. mr. foskett's poems are very serious and deliberate. one of the best of them, harold glynde, is a cantata for total abstainers, and has already been set to music. a hindoo tragedy is the story of an enthusiastic brahmin reformer who tries to break down the prohibition against widows marrying, and there are other interesting tales. mr. foskett has apparently forgotten to insert the rhymes in his sonnet to wordsworth; but, as he tells us elsewhere that 'poesy is uninspired by art,' perhaps he is only heralding a new and formless form. he is always sincere in his feelings, and his apostrophe to canon farrar is equalled only by his apostrophe to shakespeare. the pilgrimage of memory suffers a good deal by being printed as poetry, and mr. barker should republish it at once as a prose work. take, for instance, this description of a lady on a runaway horse:-- her screams alarmed the squire, who seeing the peril of his daughter, rode frantic after her. i saw at once the danger, and stepping from the footpath, show'd myself before the startled animal, which forthwith slackened pace, and darting up adroitly, i seized the rein, and in another moment, had released the maiden's foot, and held her, all insensible, within my arms. poor girl, her head and face were sorely bruised, and i tried hard to staunch the blood which flowed from many a scalp-wound, and wipe away the dust that disfigured her lovely features. in another moment the squire was by my side. 'poor child,' he cried, alarmed, 'is she dead?' 'no, sir; not dead, i think,' said i, 'but sorely bruised and injured.' there is clearly nothing to be gained by dividing the sentences of this simple and straightforward narrative into lines of unequal length, and mr. barker's own arrangement of the metre, in another moment, the squire was by my side. 'poor child,' he cried, alarmed, 'is she dead?' 'no, sir; not dead, i think,' said i, 'but sorely bruised and injured,' seems to us to be quite inferior to ours. we beg that the second edition of the pilgrimage of memory may be issued as a novel in prose. mr. gladstone turner believes that we are on the verge of a great social cataclysm, and warns us that our _cradles_ are even now being rocked by _slumbering volcanoes_! we hope that there is no truth in this statement, and that it is merely a startling metaphor introduced for the sake of effect, for elsewhere in the volume there is a great deal of beauty which we should be sorry to think was doomed to immediate extinction. the choice, for instance, is a charming poem, and the sonnet on evening would be almost perfect if it were not for an unpleasant assonance in the fifth line. indeed, so good is much of mr. gladstone turner's work that we trust he will give up rhyming 'real' to 'steal' and 'feel,' as such bad habits are apt to grow on careless poets and to blunt their ear for music. nivalis is a five-act tragedy in blank verse. most plays that are written to be read, not to be acted, miss that condensation and directness of expression which is one of the secrets of true dramatic diction, and mr. schwartz's tragedy is consequently somewhat verbose. still, it is full of fine lines and noble scenes. it is essentially a work of art, and though, as far as language is concerned, the personages all speak through the lips of the poet, yet in passion and purpose their characters are clearly differentiated, and the queen nivalis and her lover giulio are drawn with real psychological power. we hope that some day mr. schwartz will write a play for the stage, as he has the dramatic instinct and the dramatic imagination, and can make life pass into literature without robbing it of its reality. ( ) the queen's innocent, with other poems. by elise cooper. (david stott.) ( ) the chimneypiece of bruges and other poems. by constance e. dixon. (elliot stock.) ( ) oliver cromwell and other poems. by dawson burns, d.d. (partridge and co.) ( ) the circle of saints. by k. e. v. (swan sonnenschein and co.) ( ) poems. by edward foskett. (kegan paul.) ( ) the pilgrimage of memory. by john thomas barker. (simpkin, marshall and co.) ( ) errata. by g. gladstone turner. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) nivalis. by j. m. w. schwartz. (kegan paul.) great writers by little men (pall mall gazette, march , .) in an introductory note prefixed to the initial volume of 'great writers,' a series of literary monographs now being issued by mr. walter scott, the publisher himself comes forward in the kindest manner possible to give his authors the requisite 'puff preliminary,' and ventures to express the modest opinion that such original and valuable works 'have never before been produced in any part of the world at a price so low as a shilling a volume.' far be it from us to make any heartless allusion to the fact that shakespeare's sonnets were brought out at fivepence, or that for fourpence-halfpenny one could have bought a martial in ancient rome. every man, a cynical american tells us, has the right to beat a drum before his booth. still, we must acknowledge that mr. walter scott would have been much better employed in correcting some of the more obvious errors that appear in his series. when, for instance, we come across such a phrase as 'the brotherly liberality of the brothers wedgewood,' the awkwardness of the expression is hardly atoned for by the fact that the name of the great potter is misspelt; longfellow is so essentially poor in rhymes that it is unfair to rob him even of one, and the misquotation on page is absolutely unkind; the joke coleridge himself made upon the subject should have been sufficient to remind any one that 'comberbach' (sic) was not the name under which he enlisted, and no real beauty is added to the first line of his pathetic work without hope by printing 'lare' (sic) instead of 'lair.' the truth is that all premature panegyrics bring their own punishment upon themselves and, in the present case, though the series has only just entered upon existence, already a great deal of the work done is careless, disappointing, unequal and tedious. mr. eric robertson's longfellow is a most depressing book. no one survives being over-estimated, nor is there any surer way of destroying an author's reputation than to glorify him without judgment and to praise him without tact. henry wadsworth longfellow was one of the first true men of letters america produced, and as such deserves a high place in any history of american civilisation. to a land out of breath in its greed for gain he showed the example of a life devoted entirely to the study of literature; his lectures, though not by any means brilliant, were still productive of much good; he had a most charming and gracious personality, and he wrote some pretty poems. but his poems are not of the kind that call for intellectual analysis or for elaborate description or, indeed, for any serious discussion at all. they are as unsuited for panegyric as they are unworthy of censure, and it is difficult to help smiling when mr. robertson gravely tells us that few modern poets have given utterance to a faith so comprehensive as that expressed in the psalm of life, or that evangeline should confer on longfellow the title of 'golden-mouthed,' and that the style of metre adopted 'carries the ear back to times in the world's history when grand simplicities were sung.' surely mr. robertson does not believe that there is any connection at all between longfellow's unrhymed dactylics and the hexameter of greece and rome, or that any one reading evangeline would be reminded of homer's or virgil's line? where also lies the advantage of confusing popularity with poetic power? though the psalm of life be shouted from maine to california, that would not make it true poetry. why call upon us to admire a bad misquotation from the midnight mass for the dying year, and why talk of longfellow's 'hundreds of imitators'? longfellow has no imitators, for of echoes themselves there are no echoes and it is only style that makes a school. now and then, however, mr. robertson considers it necessary to assume a critical attitude. he tells us, for instance, that whether or not longfellow was a genius of the first order, it must be admitted that he loved social pleasures and was a good eater and judge of wines, admiring 'bass's ale' more than anything else he had seen in england! the remarks on excelsior are even still more amazing. excelsior, says mr. robertson, is not a ballad because a ballad deals either with real or with supernatural people, and the hero of the poem cannot be brought under either category. for, 'were he of human flesh, his madcap notion of scaling a mountain with the purpose of getting to the sky would be simply drivelling lunacy,' to say nothing of the fact that the peak in question is much frequented by tourists, while, on the other hand, 'it would be absurd to suppose him a spirit . . . for no spirit would be so silly as climb a snowy mountain for nothing'! it is really painful to have to read such preposterous nonsense, and if mr. walter scott imagines that work of this kind is 'original and valuable' he has much to learn. nor are mr. robertson's criticisms upon other poets at all more felicitous. the casual allusion to herrick's 'confectioneries of verse' is, of course, quite explicable, coming as it does from an editor who excluded herrick from an anthology of the child-poems of our literature in favour of mr. ashby-sterry and mr. william sharp, but when mr. robertson tells us that poe's 'loftiest flights of imagination in verse . . . rise into no more empyreal realm than the fantastic,' we can only recommend him to read as soon as possible the marvellous lines to helen, a poem as beautiful as a greek gem and as musical as apollo's lute. the remarks, too, on poe's critical estimate of his own work show that mr. robertson has never really studied the poet on whom he pronounces such glib and shallow judgments, and exemplify very clearly the fact that even dogmatism is no excuse for ignorance. after reading mr. hall caine's coleridge we are irresistibly reminded of what wordsworth once said about a bust that had been done of himself. after contemplating it for some time, he remarked, 'it is not a bad wordsworth, but it is not the real wordsworth; it is not wordsworth the poet, it is the sort of wordsworth who might be chancellor of the exchequer.' mr. caine's coleridge is certainly not the sort of coleridge who might have been chancellor of the exchequer, for the author of christabel was not by any means remarkable as a financier; but, for all that, it is not the real coleridge, it is not coleridge the poet. the incidents of the life are duly recounted; the gunpowder plot at cambridge, the egg-hot and oronokoo at the little tavern in newgate street, the blue coat and white waistcoat that so amazed the worthy unitarians, and the terrible smoking experiment at birmingham are all carefully chronicled, as no doubt they should be in every popular biography; but of the spiritual progress of the man's soul we hear absolutely nothing. never for one single instant are we brought near to coleridge; the magic of that wonderful personality is hidden from us by a cloud of mean details, an unholy jungle of facts, and the 'critical history' promised to us by mr. walter scott in his unfortunate preface is conspicuous only by its absence. carlyle once proposed in jest to write a life of michael angelo without making any reference to his art, and mr. caine has shown that such a project is perfectly feasible. he has written the life of a great peripatetic philosopher and chronicled only the peripatetics. he has tried to tell us about a poet, and his book might be the biography of the famous tallow-chandler who would not appreciate the watchman. the real events of coleridge's life are not his gig excursions and his walking tours; they are his thoughts, dreams and passions, his moments of creative impulse, their source and secret, his moods of imaginative joy, their marvel and their meaning, and not his moods merely but the music and the melancholy that they brought him; the lyric loveliness of his voice when he sang, the sterile sorrow of the years when he was silent. it is said that every man's life is a soul's tragedy. coleridge's certainly was so, and though we may not be able to pluck out the heart of his mystery, still let us recognise that mystery is there; and that the goings-out and comings-in of a man, his places of sojourn and his roads of travel are but idle things to chronicle, if that which is the man be left unrecorded. so mediocre is mr. caine's book that even accuracy could not make it better. on the whole, then, mr. walter scott cannot be congratulated on the success of his venture so far, the one really admirable feature of the series is the bibliography that is appended to each volume. these bibliographies are compiled by mr. anderson, of the british museum, and are so valuable to the student, as well as interesting in themselves, that it is much to be regretted that they should be accompanied by such tedious letterpress. ( ) life of henry wadsworth longfellow. by eric s. robertson. ( ) life of samuel taylor coleridge. by hall caine. 'great writers' series. (walter scott.) a new book on dickens (pall mall gazette, march , .) mr. marzials' dickens is a great improvement on the longfellow and coleridge of his predecessors. it is certainly a little sad to find our old friend the manager of the theatre royal, portsmouth, appearing as 'mr. vincent crumules' (sic), but such misprints are not by any means uncommon in mr. walter scott's publications, and, on the whole, this is a very pleasant book indeed. it is brightly and cleverly written, admirably constructed, and gives a most vivid and graphic picture of that strange modern drama, the drama of dickens's life. the earlier chapters are quite excellent, and, though the story of the famous novelist's boyhood has been often told before, mr. marzials shows that it can be told again without losing any of the charm of its interest, while the account of dickens in the plenitude of his glory is most appreciative and genial. we are really brought close to the man with his indomitable energy, his extraordinary capacity for work, his high spirits, his fascinating, tyrannous personality. the description of his method of reading is admirable, and the amazing stump-campaign in america attains, in mr. marzials' hands, to the dignity of a mock-heroic poem. one side of dickens's character, however, is left almost entirely untouched, and yet it is one in every way deserving of close study. that dickens should have felt bitterly towards his father and mother is quite explicable, but that, while feeling so bitterly, he should have caricatured them for the amusement of the public, with an evident delight in his own humour, has always seemed to us a most curious psychological problem. we are far from complaining that he did so. good novelists are much rarer than good sons, and none of us would part readily with micawber and mrs. nickleby. still, the fact remains that a man who was affectionate and loving to his children, generous and warm-hearted to his friends, and whose books are the very bacchanalia of benevolence, pilloried his parents to make the groundlings laugh, and this fact every biographer of dickens should face and, if possible, explain. as for mr. marzials' critical estimate of dickens as a writer, he tells us quite frankly that he believes that dickens at his best was 'one of the greatest masters of pathos who ever lived,' a remark that seems to us an excellent example of what novelists call 'the fine courage of despair.' of course, no biographer of dickens could say anything else, just at present. a popular series is bound to express popular views, and cheap criticisms may be excused in cheap books. besides, it is always open to every one to accept g. h. lewes's unfortunate maxim that any author who makes one cry possesses the gift of pathos and, indeed, there is something very flattering in being told that one's own emotions are the ultimate test of literature. when mr. marzials discusses dickens's power of drawing human nature we are upon somewhat safer ground, and we cannot but admire the cleverness with which he passes over his hero's innumerable failures. for, in some respects, dickens might be likened to those old sculptors of our gothic cathedrals who could give form to the most fantastic fancy, and crowd with grotesque monsters a curious world of dreams, but saw little of the grace and dignity of the men and women among whom they lived, and whose art, lacking sanity, was therefore incomplete. yet they at least knew the limitations of their art, while dickens never knew the limitations of his. when he tries to be serious he succeeds only in being dull, when he aims at truth he reaches merely platitude. shakespeare could place ferdinand and miranda by the side of caliban, and life recognises them all as her own, but dickens's mirandas are the young ladies out of a fashion-book, and his ferdinands the walking gentlemen of an unsuccessful company of third-rate players. so little sanity, indeed, had dickens's art that he was never able even to satirise: he could only caricature; and so little does mr. marzials realise where dickens's true strength and weakness lie, that he actually complains that cruikshank's illustrations are too much exaggerated and that he could never draw either a lady or a gentleman. the latter was hardly a disqualification for illustrating dickens as few such characters occur in his books, unless we are to regard lord frederick verisopht and sir mulberry hawk as valuable studies of high life; and, for our own part, we have always considered that the greatest injustice ever done to dickens has been done by those who have tried to illustrate him seriously. in conclusion, mr. marzials expresses his belief that a century hence dickens will be read as much as we now read scott, and says rather prettily that as long as he is read 'there will be one gentle and humanising influence the more at work among men,' which is always a useful tag to append to the life of any popular author. remembering that of all forms of error prophecy is the most gratuitous, we will not take upon ourselves to decide the question of dickens's immortality. if our descendants do not read him they will miss a great source of amusement, and if they do, we hope they will not model their style upon his. of this, however, there is but little danger, for no age ever borrows the slang of its predecessor. as for 'the gentle and humanising influence,' this is taking dickens just a little too seriously. life of charles dickens. by frank t. marzials. 'great writers' series. (walter scott.) our book-shelf (pall mall gazette, april , .) the master of tanagra is certainly one of ernst von wildenbruch's most delightful productions. it presents an exceedingly pretty picture of the bright external side of ancient greek life, and tells how a handsome young tanagrian left his home for the sake of art, and returned to it for love's sake--an old story, no doubt, but one which gains a new charm from its new setting. the historical characters of the book, such as praxiteles and phryne, seem somehow less real than those that are purely imaginary, but this is usually the case in all novels that would recreate the past for us, and is a form of penalty that romance has often to pay when she tries to blend fact with fancy, and to turn the great personages of history into puppets for a little play. the translation, which is from the pen of the baroness von lauer, reads very pleasantly, and some of the illustrations are good, though it is impossible to reproduce by any process the delicate and exquisite charm of the tanagra figurines. m. paul stapfer in his book moliere et shakespeare shows very clearly that the french have not yet forgiven schlegel for having threatened that, as a reprisal for the atrocities committed by napoleon, he would prove that moliere was no poet. indeed, m. stapfer, while admitting that one should be fair 'envers tout le monde, meme envers les allemands,' charges down upon the german critics with the brilliancy and dash of a french cuirassier, and mocks at them for their dulness, at the very moment that he is annexing their erudition, an achievement for which the french genius is justly renowned. as for the relative merits of moliere and shakespeare, m. stapfer has no hesitation in placing the author of le misanthrope by the side of the author of hamlet. shakespeare's comedies seem to him somewhat wilful and fantastic; he prefers orgon and tartuffe to oberon and titania, and can hardly forgive beatrice for having been 'born to speak all mirth, and no matter.' perhaps he hardly realises that it is as a poet, not as a playwright, that we love shakespeare in england, and that ariel singing by the yellow sands, or fairies hiding in a wood near athens, may be as real as alceste in his wooing of celimene, and as true as harpagon weeping for his money- box; still, his book is full of interesting suggestion, many of his remarks on literature are quite excellent, and his style has the qualities of grace, distinction, and ease of movement. not so much can be said for annals of the life of shakespeare, which is a dull though well-meaning little book. what we do not know about shakespeare is a most fascinating subject, and one that would fill a volume, but what we do know about him is so meagre and inadequate that when it is collected together the result is rather depressing. however, there are many people, no doubt, who find a great source of interest in the fact that he author of the merchant of venice once brought an action for the sum of pound, s. d. and gained his suit, and for these this volume will have considerable charm. it is a pity that the finest line ben jonson ever wrote about shakespeare should be misquoted at the very beginning of the book, and the illustration of shakespeare's monument gives the inscription very badly indeed. also, it was ben jonson's stepfather, not his 'father-in-law,' as stated, who was the bricklayer; but it is quite useless to dwell upon these things, as nobody nowadays seems to have any time either to correct proofs or to consult authorities. one of the most pleasing volumes that has appeared as yet in the canterbury series is the collection of allan ramsay's poems. ramsay, whose profession was the making of periwigs, and whose pleasure was the making of poetry, is always delightful reading, except when he tries to write english and to imitate pope. his gentle shepherd is a charming pastoral play, full of humour and romance; his vision has a good deal of natural fire; and some of his songs, such as the yellow-hair'd laddie and the lass of patie's mill, might rank beside those of burns. the preface to this attractive little edition is from the pen of mr. j. logie robertson, and the simple, straightforward style in which it is written contrasts favourably with the silly pompous manner affected by so many of the other editors of the series. ramsay's life is worth telling well, and mr. robertson tells it well, and gives us a really capital picture of edinburgh society in the early half of the last century. dante for beginners, by miss arabella shore, is a sort of literary guide- book. what virgil was to the great florentine, miss shore would be to the british public, and her modest little volume can do no possible harm to dante, which is more than one can say of many commentaries on the divine comedy. miss phillimore's studies in italian literature is a much more elaborate work, and displays a good deal of erudition. indeed, the erudition is sometimes displayed a little too much, and we should like to see the lead of learning transmuted more often into the gold of thought. the essays on petrarch and tasso are tedious, but those on aleardi and count arrivabene are excellent, particularly the former. aleardi was a poet of wonderful descriptive power, and though, as he said himself, he subordinated his love of poetry to his love of country, yet in such service he found perfect freedom. the article on edoardo fusco also is full of interest, and is a timely tribute to the memory of one who did so much for the education and culture of modern italy. on the whole, the book is well worth reading; so well worth reading, indeed, that we hope that the foolish remarks on the greek drama will be amended in a second edition, or, which would be better still, struck out altogether. they show a want of knowledge that must be the result of years of study. ( ) the master of tanagra. translated from the german of ernst von wildenbruch by the baroness von lauer. (h. grevel and co.) ( ) moliere et shakespeare. by paul stapfer. (hachette.) ( ) annals of the life of shakespeare. (sampson low, marston and co.) ( ) poems by allan ramsay. selected and arranged, with a biographical sketch of the poet, by j. logie robertson, m.a. 'canterbury poets.' (walter scott.) ( ) dante for beginners. by arabella shore. (chapman and hall.) ( ) studies in italian literature. by miss phillimore. (sampson low, marston and co.) a cheap edition of a great man (pall mall gazette, april , .) formerly we used to canonise our great men; nowadays we vulgarise them. the vulgarisation of rossetti has been going on for some time past with really remarkable success, and there seems no probability at present of the process being discontinued. the grass was hardly green upon the quiet grave in birchington churchyard when mr. hall caine and mr. william sharp rushed into print with their memoirs and recollections. then came the usual mob of magazine-hacks with their various views and attitudes, and now mr. joseph knight has produced for the edification of the british public a popular biography of the poet of the blessed damozel, the painter of dante's dream. it is only fair to state that mr. knight's work is much better than that of his predecessors in the same field. his book is, on the whole, modestly and simply written; whatever its other faults may be, it is at least free from affectation of any kind; and it makes no serious pretence at being either exhaustive or definitive. yet the best we can say of it is that it is just the sort of biography guildenstern might have written of hamlet. nor does its unsatisfactory character come merely from the ludicrous inadequacy of the materials at mr. knight's disposal; it is the whole scheme and method of the book that is radically wrong. rossetti's was a great personality, and personalities such as his do not easily survive shilling primers. sooner or later they have inevitably to come down to the level of their biographers, and in the present instance nothing could be more absolutely commonplace than the picture mr. knight gives us of the wonderful seer and singer whose life he has so recklessly essayed to write. no doubt there are many people who will be deeply interested to know that rossetti was once chased round his garden by an infuriated zebu he was trying to exhibit to mr. whistler, or that he had a great affection for a dog called 'dizzy,' or that 'sloshy' was one of his favourite words of contempt, or that mr. gosse thought him very like chaucer in appearance, or that he had 'an absolute disqualification' for whist-playing, or that he was very fond of quoting the bab ballads, or that he once said that if he could live by writing poetry he would see painting d---d! for our part, however, we cannot help expressing our regret that such a shallow and superficial biography as this should ever have been published. it is but a sorry task to rip the twisted ravel from the worn garment of life and to turn the grout in a drained cup. better, after all, that we knew a painter only through his vision and a poet through his song, than that the image of a great man should be marred and made mean for us by the clumsy geniality of good intentions. a true artist, and such rossetti undoubtedly was, reveals himself so perfectly in his work, that unless a biographer has something more valuable to give us than idle anecdotes and unmeaning tales, his labour is misspent and his industry misdirected. bad, however, as is mr. knight's treatment of rossetti's life, his treatment of rossetti's poetry is infinitely worse. considering the small size of the volume, and the consequently limited number of extracts, the amount of misquotation is almost incredible, and puts all recent achievements in this sphere of modern literature completely into the shade. the fine line in the first canto of rose mary: what glints there like a lance that flees? appears as: what glints there like a _glance_ that flees? which is very painful nonsense; in the description of that graceful and fanciful sonnet autumn idleness, the deer are represented as '_grazing_ from hillock eaves' instead of gazing from hillock-eaves; the opening of dantis tenebrae is rendered quite incomprehensible by the substitution of 'my' for 'thy' in the second line; even such a well-known ballad as sister helen is misquoted, and, indeed, from the burden of nineveh, the blessed damozel, the king's tragedy and guido cavalcanti's lovely ballata, down to the portrait and such sonnets as love-sweetness, farewell to the glen, and a match with the moon, there is not one single poem that does not display some careless error or some stupid misprint. as for rossetti's elaborate system of punctuation, mr. knight pays no attention to it whatsoever. indeed, he shows quite a rollicking indifference to all the secrets and subtleties of style, and inserts or removes stops in a manner that is absolutely destructive to the lyrical beauty of the verse. the hyphen, also, so constantly employed by rossetti in the case of such expressions as 'hillock-eaves' quoted above, 'hill-fire,' 'birth-hour,' and the like, is almost invariably disregarded, and by the brilliant omission of a semicolon mr. knight has succeeded in spoiling one of the best stanzas in the staff and scrip--a poem, by the way, that he speaks of as the staff and the scrip (sic). after this tedious comedy of errors it seems almost unnecessary to point out that the earliest italian poet is not called ciullo d'alcano (sic), or that the bothie of toper-na-fuosich (sic) is not the title of clough's boisterous epic, or that dante and his cycle (sic) is not the name rossetti gave to his collection of translations; and why troy town should appear in the index as tory town is really quite inexplicable, unless it is intended as a compliment to mr. hall caine who once dedicated, or rather tried to dedicate, to rossetti a lecture on the relations of poets to politics. we are sorry, too, to find an english dramatic critic misquoting shakespeare, as we had always been of opinion that this was a privilege reserved specially for our english actors. we sincerely hope that there will soon be an end to all biographies of this kind. they rob life of much of its dignity and its wonder, add to death itself a new terror, and make one wish that all art were anonymous. nor could there have been any more unfortunate choice of a subject for popular treatment than that to which we owe the memoir that now lies before us. a pillar of fire to the few who knew him, and of cloud to the many who knew him not, dante gabriel rossetti lived apart from the gossip and tittle-tattle of a shallow age. he never trafficked with the merchants for his soul, nor brought his wares into the market-place for the idle to gape at. passionate and romantic though he was, yet there was in his nature something of high austerity. he loved seclusion, and hated notoriety, and would have shuddered at the idea that within a few years after his death he was to make his appearance in a series of popular biographies, sandwiched between the author of pickwick and the great lexicographer. one man alone, the friend his verse won for him, did he desire should write his life, and it is to mr. theodore watts that we, too, must look to give us the real rossetti. it may be admitted at once that mr. watts's subject has for the moment been a little spoiled for him. rude hands have touched it, and unmusical voices have made it sound almost common in our ears. yet none the less is it for him to tell us of the marvel of this man whose art he has analysed with such exquisite insight, whose life he knows as no one else can know it, whom he so loyally loved and tended, and by whom he was so loyally beloved in turn. as for the others, the scribblers and nibblers of literature, if they indeed reverence rossetti's memory, let them pay him the one homage he would most have valued, the gracious homage of silence. 'though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me,' says hamlet to his false friend, and even so might rossetti speak to those well-intentioned mediocrities who would seem to know his stops and would sound him to the top of his compass. true, they cannot fret him now, for he has passed beyond the possibility of pain; yet they cannot play upon him either; it is not for them to pluck out the heart of his mystery. there is, however, one feature of this book that deserves unstinted praise. mr. anderson's bibliography will be found of immense use by every student of rossetti's work and influence. perhaps young's very powerful attack on pre-raphaelitism, as expounded by mr. ruskin (longmans, ), might be included, but, in all other respects, it seems quite complete, and the chronological list of paintings and drawings is really admirable. when this unfortunate 'great writers' series comes to an end, mr. anderson's bibliographies should be collected together and published in a separate volume. at present they are in a very second- rate company indeed. life of dante gabriel rossetti. by joseph knight. 'great writers' series. (walter scott.) mr. morris's odyssey (pall mall gazette, april , .) of all our modern poets, mr. william morris is the one best qualified by nature and by art to translate for us the marvellous epic of the wanderings of odysseus. for he is our only true story-singer since chaucer; if he is a socialist, he is also a saga-man; and there was a time when he was never wearied of telling us strange legends of gods and men, wonderful tales of chivalry and romance. master as he is of decorative and descriptive verse, he has all the greek's joy in the visible aspect of things, all the greek's sense of delicate and delightful detail, all the greek's pleasure in beautiful textures and exquisite materials and imaginative designs; nor can any one have a keener sympathy with the homeric admiration for the workers and the craftsmen in the various arts, from the stainers in white ivory and the embroiderers in purple and fold, to the weaver sitting by the loom and the dyer dipping in the vat, the chaser of shield and helmet, the carver of wood or stone. and to all this is added the true temper of high romance, the power to make the past as real to us as the present, the subtle instinct to discern passion, the swift impulse to portray life. it is no wonder the lovers of greek literature have so eagerly looked forward to mr. morris's version of the odyssean epic, and now that the first volume has appeared, it is not extravagant to say that of all our english translations this is the most perfect and the most satisfying. in spite of coleridge's well-known views on the subject, we have always held that chapman's odyssey is immeasurably inferior to his iliad, the mere difference of metre alone being sufficient to set the former in a secondary place; pope's odyssey, with its glittering rhetoric and smart antithesis, has nothing of the grand manner of the original; cowper is dull, and bryant dreadful, and worsley too full of spenserian prettinesses; while excellent though messrs. butcher and lang's version undoubtedly is in many respects, still, on the whole, it gives us merely the facts of the odyssey without providing anything of its artistic effect. avia's translation even, though better than almost all its predecessors in the same field, is not worthy of taking rank beside mr. morris's, for here we have a true work of art, a rendering not merely of language into language, but of poetry into poetry, and though the new spirit added in the transfusion may seem to many rather norse than greek, and, perhaps at times, more boisterous than beautiful, there is yet a vigour of life in every line, a splendid ardour through each canto, that stirs the blood while one reads like the sound of a trumpet, and that, producing a physical as well as a spiritual delight, exults the senses no less than it exalts the soul. it may be admitted at once that, here and there, mr. morris has missed something of the marvellous dignity of the homeric verse, and that, in his desire for rushing and ringing metre, he has occasionally sacrificed majesty to movement, and made stateliness give place to speed; but it is really only in such blank verse as milton's that this effect of calm and lofty music can be attained, and in all other respects blank verse is the most inadequate medium for reproducing the full flow and fervour of the greek hexameter. one merit, at any rate, mr. morris's version entirely and absolutely possesses. it is, in no sense of the word, literary; it seems to deal immediately with life itself, and to take from the reality of things its own form and colour; it is always direct and simple, and at its best has something of the 'large utterance of the early gods.' as for individual passages of beauty, nothing could be better than the wonderful description of the house of the phoeacian king, or the whole telling of the lovely legend of circe, or the manner in which the pageant of the pale phantoms in hades is brought before our eyes. perhaps the huge epic humour of the escape from the cyclops is hardly realised, but there is always a linguistic difficulty about rendering this fascinating story into english, and where we are given so much poetry we should not complain about losing a pun; and the exquisite idyll of the meeting and parting with the daughter of alcinous is really delightfully told. how good, for instance, is this passage taken at random from the sixth book: but therewith unto the handmaids goodly odysseus spake: 'stand off i bid you, damsels, while the work in hand i take, and wash the brine from my shoulders, and sleek them all around. since verily now this long while sweet oil they have not found. but before you nought will i wash me, for shame i have indeed, amidst of fair-tressed damsels to be all bare of weed.' so he spake and aloof they gat them, and thereof they told the may, but odysseus with the river from his body washed away the brine from his back and his shoulders wrought broad and mightily, and from his head was he wiping the foam of the untilled sea; but when he had throughly washed him, and the oil about him had shed he did upon the raiment the gift of the maid unwed. but athene, zeus-begotten, dealt with him in such wise that bigger yet was his seeming, and mightier to all eyes, with the hair on his head crisp curling as the bloom of the daffodil. and as when the silver with gold is o'erlaid by a man of skill, yea, a craftsman whom hephaestus and pallas athene have taught to be master over masters, and lovely work he hath wrought; so she round his head and his shoulders shed grace abundantly. it may be objected by some that the line with the hair on his head crisp curling as the bloom of the daffodil, is a rather fanciful version of [greek text] and it certainly seems probable that the allusion is to the dark colour of the hero's hair; still, the point is not one of much importance, though it may be worth noting that a similar expression occurs in ogilby's superbly illustrated translation of the odyssey, published in , where charles ii.'s master of the revels in ireland gives the passage thus: minerva renders him more tall and fair, curling in rings like daffodils his hair. no anthology, however, can show the true merit of mr. morris's translation, whose real merit does not depend on stray beauties, nor is revealed by chance selections, but lies in the absolute rightness and coherence of the whole, in its purity and justice of touch, its freedom from affectation and commonplace, its harmony of form and matter. it is sufficient to say that this is a poet's version of a poet, and for such surely we should be thankful. in these latter days of coarse and vulgar literature, it is something to have made the great sea-epic of the south native and natural to our northern isle, something to have shown that our english speech may be a pipe through which greek lips can blow, something to have taught nausicaa to speak the same language as perdita. the odyssey of homer. done into english verse by william morris, author of the earthly paradise. in two volumes. volume i. (reeves and turner.) for review of volume ii. see mr. morris's completion of the odyssey, page . a batch of novels (pall mall gazette, may , .) of the three great russian novelists of our time tourgenieff is by far the finest artist. he has that spirit of exquisite selection, that delicate choice of detail, which is the essence of style; his work is entirely free from any personal intention; and by taking existence at its most fiery-coloured moments he can distil into a few pages of perfect prose the moods and passions of many lives. count tolstoi's method is much larger, and his field of vision more extended. he reminds us sometimes of paul veronese, and, like that great painter, can crowd, without over-crowding, the giant canvas on which he works. we may not at first gain from his works that artistic unity of impression which is tourgenieff's chief charm, but once that we have mastered the details the whole seems to have the grandeur and the simplicity of an epic. dostoieffski differs widely from both his rivals. he is not so fine an artist as tourgenieff, for he deals more with the facts than with the effects of life; nor has he tolstoi's largeness of vision and epic dignity; but he has qualities that are distinctively and absolutely his own, such as a fierce intensity of passion and concentration of impulse, a power of dealing with the deepest mysteries of psychology and the most hidden springs of life, and a realism that is pitiless in its fidelity, and terrible because it is true. some time ago we had occasion to draw attention to his marvellous novel crime and punishment, where in the haunt of impurity and vice a harlot and an assassin meet together to read the story of dives and lazarus, and the outcast girl leads the sinner to make atonement for his sin; nor is the book entitled injury and insult at all inferior to that great masterpiece. mean and ordinary though the surroundings of the story may seem, the heroine natasha is like one of the noble victims of greek tragedy; she is antigone with the passion of phaedra, and it is impossible to approach her without a feeling of awe. greek also is the gloom of nemesis that hangs over each character, only it is a nemesis that does not stand outside of life, but is part of our own nature and of the same material as life itself. aleosha, the beautiful young lad whom natasha follows to her doom, is a second tito melema, and has all tito's charm and grace and fascination. yet he is different. he would never have denied baldassare in the square at florence, nor lied to romola about tessa. he has a magnificent, momentary sincerity, a boyish unconsciousness of all that life signifies, an ardent enthusiasm for all that life cannot give. there is nothing calculating about him. he never thinks evil, he only does it. from a psychological point of view he is one of the most interesting characters of modem fiction, as from an artistic he is one of the most attractive. as we grow to know him he stirs strange questions for us, and makes us feel that it is not the wicked only who do wrong, nor the bad alone who work evil. and by what a subtle objective method does dostoieffski show us his characters! he never tickets them with a list nor labels them with a description. we grow to know them very gradually, as we know people whom we meet in society, at first by little tricks of manner, personal appearance, fancies in dress, and the like; and afterwards by their deeds and words; and even then they constantly elude us, for though dostoieffski may lay bare for us the secrets of their nature, yet he never explains his personages away; they are always surprising us by something that they say or do, and keep to the end the eternal mystery of life. irrespective of its value as a work of art, this novel possesses a deep autobiographical interest also, as the character of vania, the poor student who loves natasha through all her sin and shame, is dostoieffski's study of himself. goethe once had to delay the completion of one of his novels till experience had furnished him with new situations, but almost before he had arrived at manhood dostoieffski knew life in its most real forms; poverty and suffering, pain and misery, prison, exile, and love, were soon familiar to him, and by the lips of vania he has told his own story. this note of personal feeling, this harsh reality of actual experience, undoubtedly gives the book something of its strange fervour and terrible passion, yet it has not made it egotistic; we see things from every point of view, and we feel, not that fiction has been trammelled by fact, but that fact itself has become ideal and imaginative. pitiless, too, though dostoieffski is in his method as an artist, as a man he is full of human pity for all, for those who do evil as well as for those who suffer it, for the selfish no less than for those whose lives are wrecked for others and whose sacrifice is in vain. since adam bede and le pere goriot no more powerful novel has been written than insult and injury. mr. hardinge's book willow garth deals, strangely enough, with something like the same idea, though the treatment is, of course, entirely different. a girl of high birth falls passionately in love with a young farm-bailiff who is a sort of arcadian antinous and a very ganymede in gaiters. social difficulties naturally intervene, so she drowns her handsome rustic in a convenient pond. mr. hardinge has a most charming style, and, as a writer, possesses both distinction and grace. the book is a delightful combination of romance and satire, and the heroine's crime is treated in the most picturesque manner possible. marcella grace tells of modern life in ireland, and is one of the best books miss mulholland has ever published. in its artistic reserve, and the perfect simplicity of its style, it is an excellent model for all lady-novelists to follow, and the scene where the heroine finds the man, who has been sent to shoot her, lying fever-stricken behind a hedge with his gun by his side, is really remarkable. nor could anything be better than miss mulholland's treatment of external nature. she never shrieks over scenery like a tourist, nor wearies us with sunsets like the scotch school; but all through her book there is a subtle atmosphere of purple hills and silent moorland; she makes us live with nature and not merely look at it. the accomplished authoress of soap was once compared to george eliot by the court journal, and to carlyle by the daily news, but we fear that we cannot compete with our contemporaries in these daring comparisons. her present book is very clever, rather vulgar, and contains some fine examples of bad french. as for a marked man, that winter night, and driven home, the first shows some power of description and treatment, but is sadly incomplete; the second is quite unworthy of any man of letters, and the third is absolutely silly. we sincerely hope that a few more novels like these will be published, as the public will then find out that a bad book is very dear at a shilling. ( ) injury and insult. by fedor dostoieffski. translated from the russian by frederick whishaw. (vizetelly and co.) ( ) the willow garth. by w. m. hardinge. (bentley and son.) ( ) marcella grace. by rosa mulholland. (macmillan and co.) ( ) soap. by constance macewen. (arrowsmith.) ( ) a marked man. by faucet streets. (hamilton and adams.) ( ) that winter night. by robert buchanan. (arrowsmith.) ( ) driven home. by evelyn owen. (arrowsmith.) some novels (saturday review, may , .) the only form of fiction in which real characters do not seem out of place is history. in novels they are detestable, and miss bayle's romance is entirely spoiled as a realistic presentation of life by the author's attempt to introduce into her story a whole mob of modern celebrities and notorieties, including the heir apparent and mr. edmund yates. the identity of the latter personage is delicately veiled under the pseudonym of 'mr. atlas, editor of the world,' but the former appears as 'the prince of wales' pur et simple, and is represented as spending his time yachting in the channel and junketing at homburg with a second- rate american family who, by the way, always address him as 'prince,' and show in other respects an ignorance that even their ignorance cannot excuse. indeed, his royal highness is no mere spectator of the story; he is one of the chief actors in it, and it is through his influence that the noisy chicago belle, whose lack of romance gives the book its title, achieves her chief social success. as for the conversation with which the prince is credited, it is of the most amazing kind. we find him on one page gravely discussing the depression of trade with mr. ezra p. bayle, a shoddy american millionaire, who promptly replies, 'depression of fiddle-sticks, prince'; in another passage he naively inquires of the same shrewd speculator whether the thunderstorms and prairie fires of the west are still 'on so grand a scale' as when he visited illinois; and we are told in the second volume that, after contemplating the magnificent view from st. ives he exclaimed with enthusiasm, 'surely mr. brett must have had a scene like this in his eye when he painted britannia's realm? i never saw anything more beautiful.' even her majesty figures in this extraordinary story in spite of the excellent aphorism ne touchez pas a la reine; and when miss alma j. bayle is married to the duke of windsor's second son she receives from the hands of royalty not merely the customary cashmere shawl of court tradition, but also a copy of diaries in the highlands inscribed 'to _the_ lady plowden eton, with the kindest wishes of victoria r.i.', a mistake that the queen, of all persons in the world, is the least likely to have committed. perhaps, however, we are treating miss bayle's romance too seriously. the book has really no claim to be regarded as a novel at all. it is simply a society paragraph expanded into three volumes and, like most paragraphs of the kind, is in the worst possible taste. we are not by any means surprised that the author, while making free with the names of others, has chosen to conceal his own name; for no reputation could possibly survive the production of such silly, stupid work; but we must say that we are surprised that this book has been brought out by the publishers in ordinary to her majesty the queen. we do not know what the duties attaching to this office are, but we should not have thought that the issuing of vulgar stories about the royal family was one of them. from heather hills is very pleasant reading indeed. it is healthy without being affected; and though mrs. perks gives us many descriptions of scotch scenery we are glad to say that she has not adopted the common chromo-lithographic method of those popular north british novelists who have never yet fully realised the difference between colour and colours, and who imagine that by emptying a paint box over every page they can bring before us the magic of mist and mountain, the wonder of sea or glen. mrs. perks has a grace and delicacy of touch that is quite charming, and she can deal with nature without either botanising or being blatant, which nowadays is a somewhat rare accomplishment. the interest of the story centres on margaret dalrymple, a lovely scotch girl who is brought to london by her aunt, takes every one by storm and falls in love with young lord erinwood, who is on the brink of proposing to her when he is dissuaded from doing so by a philosophic man of the world who thinks that a woodland artemis is a bad wife for an english peer, and that no woman who has a habit of saying exactly what she means can possibly get on in smart society. the would-be philosopher is ultimately hoist with his own petard, as he falls in love himself with margaret dalrymple, and as for the weak young hero he is promptly snatched up, rather against his will, by a sort of becky sharp, who succeeds in becoming lady erinwood. however, a convenient railway accident, the deus ex machina of nineteenth- century novels, carries miss norma novello off; and everybody is finally made happy, except, of course, the philosopher, who gets only a lesson where he wanted to get love. there is just one part of the novel to which we must take exception. the whole story of alice morgan is not merely needlessly painful, but it is of very little artistic value. a tragedy may be the basis of a story, but it should never be simply a casual episode. at least, if it is so, it entirely fails to produce any artistic effect. we hope, too, that in mrs. perks's next novel she will not allow her hero to misquote english poetry. this is a privilege reserved for mrs. malaprop. a constancy that lasts through three volumes is often rather tedious, so that we are glad to make the acquaintance of miss lilian ufford, the heroine of mrs. houston's a heart on fire. this young lady begins by being desperately in love with mr. frank thorburn, a struggling schoolmaster, and ends by being desperately in love with colonel dallas, a rich country gentleman who spends most of his time and his money in preaching a crusade against beer. after she gets engaged to the colonel she discovers that mr. thorburn is in reality lord netherby's son and heir, and for the moment she seems to have a true woman's regret at having given up a pretty title; but all ends well, and the story is brightly and pleasantly told. the colonel is a middle-aged romeo of the most impassioned character, and as it is his heart that is 'on fire,' he may serve as a psychological pendant to la femme de quarante ans. mr. g. manville fenn's a bag of diamonds belongs to the drury lane school of fiction and is a sort of fireside melodrama for the family circle. it is evidently written to thrill bayswater, and no doubt bayswater will be thrilled. indeed, there is a great deal that is exciting in the book, and the scene in which a kindly policeman assists two murderers to convey their unconscious victim into a four-wheeled cab, under the impression that they are a party of guests returning from a convivial supper in bloomsbury, is quite excellent of its kind, and, on the whole, not too improbable, considering that shilling literature is always making demands on our credulity without ever appealing to our imagination. the great hesper, by mr. frank barrett, has at least the merit of introducing into fiction an entirely new character. the villain is nyctalops, and, though we are not prepared to say that there is any necessary connection between nyctalopy and crime, we are quite ready to accept mr. barrett's picture of jan van hoeck as an interesting example of the modern method of dealing with life. for, pathology is rapidly becoming the basis of sensational literature, and in art, as in politics, there is a great future for monsters. what a nyctalops is we leave mr. barrett to explain. his novel belongs to a class of book that many people might read once for curiosity but nobody could read a second time for pleasure. a day after the fair is an account of a holiday tour through scotland taken by two young barristers, one of whom rescues a pretty girl from drowning, falls in love with her, and is rewarded for his heroism by seeing her married to his friend. the idea of the book is not bad, but the treatment is very unsatisfactory, and combines the triviality of the tourist with the dulness of good intentions. 'mr. winter' is always amusing and audacious, though we cannot say that we entirely approve of the names he gives to his stories. bootle's baby was a masterpiece, but houp-la was a terrible title, and that imp is not much better. the book, however, is undoubtedly clever, and the imp in question is not a nyctalops nor a specimen for a travelling museum, but a very pretty girl who, because an officer has kissed her without any serious matrimonial intentions, exerts all her fascinations to bring the unfortunate lovelace to her feet and, having succeeded in doing so, promptly rejects him with a virtuous indignation that is as delightful as it is out of place. we must confess that we have a good deal of sympathy for 'driver' dallas, of the royal horse, who suffers fearful agonies at what he imagines is a heartless flirtation on the part of the lady of his dreams; but the story is told from the imp's point of view, and as such we must accept it. there is a very brilliant description of a battle in the soudan, and the account of barrack life is, of course, admirable. so admirable indeed is it that we hope that 'mr. winter' will soon turn his attention to new topics and try to handle fresh subjects. it would be sad if such a clever and observant writer became merely the garrison hack of literature. we would also earnestly beg 'mr. winter' not to write foolish prefaces about unappreciative critics; for it is only mediocrities and old maids who consider it a grievance to be misunderstood. ( ) miss bayle's romance: a story of to-day. (bentley and son, publishers in ordinary to her majesty the queen.) ( ) from heather hills. by mrs. j. hartley perks. (hurst and blackett.) ( ) a heart on fire. by mrs. houston. (f. v. white and co.) ( ) a bag of diamonds. by george manville fenn. (ward and downey.) ( ) the great hesper. by frank barrett. (ward and downey.) ( ) a day after the fair. by william cairns. (swan sonnenschein and co.) ( ) that imp. by john strange winter, author of booties' baby, etc. (f. v. white and co.) the poets' corner--iii (pall mall gazette, may , .) such a pseudonym for a poet as 'glenessa' reminds us of the good old days of the della cruscans, but it would not be fair to attribute glenessa's poetry to any known school of literature, either past or present. whatever qualities it possesses are entirely its own. glenessa's most ambitious work, and the one that gives the title to his book, is a poetic drama about the garden of eden. the subject is undoubtedly interesting, but the execution can hardly be said to be quite worthy of it. devils, on account of their inherent wickedness, may be excused for singing-- then we'll rally--rally--rally-- yes, we'll rally--rally o!-- but such scenes as-- enter adam. adam (excitedly). eve, where art thou? eve (surprised). oh! adam (in astonishment). eve! my god, she's there beside that fatal tree; or-- enter adam and eve. eve (in astonishment). well, is not this surprising? adam (distracted). it is-- seem to belong rather to the sphere of comedy than to that of serious verse. poor glenessa! the gods have not made him poetical, and we hope he will abandon his wooing of the muse. he is fitted, not for better, but for other things. vortigern and rowena is a cantata about the britons and the danes. there is a druid priestess who sings of cynthia and endymion, and a chorus of jubilant vikings. it is charmingly printed, and as a libretto for music quite above the average. as truly religious people are resigned to everything, even to mediocre poetry, there is no reason at all why madame guyon's verses should not be popular with a large section of the community. their editor, mr. dyer, has reprinted the translations cowper made for mr. bull, added some versions of his own and written a pleasing preface about this gentle seventeenth-century saint whose life was her best, indeed her only true poem. mr. pierce has discovered a tenth muse and writes impassioned verses to the goddess of chess whom he apostrophises as 'sublime caissa'! zukertort and steinitz are his heroes, and he is as melodious on mates as he is graceful on gambits. we are glad to say, however, that he has other subjects, and one of his poems beginning: cedar boxes deeply cut, china bowls of quaint device, heap'd with rosy leaves and spice, violets in old volumes shut-- is very dainty and musical. mr. clifford harrison is well known as the most poetic of our reciters, but as a writer himself of poetry he is not so famous. yet his little volume in hours of leisure contains some charming pieces, and many of the short fourteen-line poems are really pretty, though they are very defective in form. indeed, of form mr. harrison is curiously careless. such rhymes as 'calm' and 'charm,' 'baize' and 'place,' 'jeu' and 'knew,' are quite dreadful, while 'operas' and 'stars,' 'gautama' and 'afar' are too bad even for steinway hall. those who have keats's genius may borrow keats's cockneyisms, but from minor poets we have a right to expect some regard to the ordinary technique of verse. however, if mr. harrison has not always form, at least he has always feeling. he has a wonderful command over all the egotistic emotions, is quite conscious of the artistic value of remorse, and displays a sincere sympathy with his own moments of sadness, playing upon his moods as a young lady plays upon the piano. now and then we come across some delicate descriptive touches, such as the cuckoo knew its latest day had come, and told its name once more to all the hills, and whenever mr. harrison writes about nature he is certainly pleasing and picturesque but, as a rule, he is over-anxious about himself and forgets that the personal expression of joy or sorrow is not poetry, though it may afford excellent material for a sentimental diary. the daily increasing class of readers that likes unintelligible poetry should study aeonial. it is in many ways a really remarkable production. very fantastic, very daring, crowded with strange metaphor and clouded by monstrous imagery, it has a sort of turbid splendour about it, and should the author some day add meaning to his music he may give us a true work of art. at present he hardly realises that an artist should be articulate. seymour's inheritance is a short novel in blank verse. on the whole, it is very harmless both in manner and matter, but we must protest against such lines as and in the windows of his heart the blinds of happiness had been drawn down by grief, for a simile committing suicide is always a depressing spectacle. some of the other poems are so simple and modest that we hope mr. ross will not carry out his threat of issuing a 'more pretentious volume.' pretentious volumes of poetry are very common and very worthless. mr. brodie's lyrics of the sea are spirited and manly, and show a certain freedom of rhythmical movement, pleasant in days of wooden verse. he is at his best, however, in his sonnets. their architecture is not always of the finest order but, here and there, one meets with lines that are graceful and felicitous. like silver swallows on a summer morn cutting the air with momentary wings, is pretty, and on flowers mr. brodie writes quite charmingly. the only thoroughly bad piece in the book is the workman's song. nothing can be said in favour of is there a bit of blue, boys? is there a bit of blue? in heaven's leaden hue, boys? 'tis hope's eye peeping through . . . for optimism of this kind is far more dispiriting than schopenhauer or hartmann at their worst, nor are there really any grounds for supposing that the british workman enjoys third-rate poetry. ( ) the discovery and other poems. by glenessa. (national publishing co.) ( ) vortigern and rowena: a dramatic cantata. by edwin ellis griffin. (hutchings and crowsley.) ( ) the poems of madame de la mothe guyon. edited and arranged by the rev. a. saunders dyer, m.a. (bryce and son.) ( ) stanzas and sonnets. by j. pierce, m.a. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) in hours of leisure. by clifford harrison. (kegan paul.) ( ) aeonial. by the author of the white africans. (elliot stock.) ( ) seymour's inheritance. by james ross. (arrowsmith.) ( ) lyrics of the sea. by e. h. brodie. (bell and sons.) mr. pater's imaginary portraits (pall mall gazette, june , .) to convey ideas through the medium of images has always been the aim of those who are artists as well as thinkers in literature, and it is to a desire to give a sensuous environment to intellectual concepts that we owe mr. pater's last volume. for these imaginary or, as we should prefer to call them, imaginative portraits of his, form a series of philosophic studies in which the philosophy is tempered by personality, and the thought shown under varying conditions of mood and manner, the very permanence of each principle gaining something through the change and colour of the life through which it finds expression. the most fascinating of all these pictures is undoubtedly that of sebastian van storck. the account of watteau is perhaps a little too fanciful, and the description of him as one who was 'always a seeker after something in the world, that is there in no satisfying measure, or not at all,' seems to us more applicable to him who saw mona lisa sitting among the rocks than to the gay and debonair peintre des fetes galantes. but sebastian, the grave young dutch philosopher, is charmingly drawn. from the first glimpse we get of him, skating over the water-meadows with his plume of squirrel's tail and his fur muff, in all the modest pleasantness of boyhood, down to his strange death in the desolate house amid the sands of the helder, we seem to see him, to know him, almost to hear the low music of his voice. he is a dreamer, as the common phrase goes, and yet he is poetical in this sense, that his theorems shape life for him, directly. early in youth he is stirred by a fine saying of spinoza, and sets himself to realise the ideal of an intellectual disinterestedness, separating himself more and more from the transient world of sensation, accident and even affection, till what is finite and relative becomes of no interest to him, and he feels that as nature is but a thought of his, so he himself is but a passing thought of god. this conception, of the power of a mere metaphysical abstraction over the mind of one so fortunately endowed for the reception of the sensible world, is exceedingly delightful, and mr. pater has never written a more subtle psychological study, the fact that sebastian dies in an attempt to save the life of a little child giving to the whole story a touch of poignant pathos and sad irony. denys l'auxerrois is suggested by a figure found, or said to be found, on some old tapestries in auxerre, the figure of a 'flaxen and flowery creature, sometimes wellnigh naked among the vine-leaves, sometimes muffled in skins against the cold, sometimes in the dress of a monk, but always with a strong impress of real character and incident from the veritable streets' of the town itself. from this strange design mr. pater has fashioned a curious mediaeval myth of the return of dionysus among men, a myth steeped in colour and passion and old romance, full of wonder and full of worship, denys himself being half animal and half god, making the world mad with a new ecstasy of living, stirring the artists simply by his visible presence, drawing the marvel of music from reed and pipe, and slain at last in a stage-play by those who had loved him. in its rich affluence of imagery this story is like a picture by mantegna, and indeed mantegna might have suggested the description of the pageant in which denys rides upon a gaily-painted chariot, in soft silken raiment and, for head-dress, a strange elephant scalp with gilded tusks. if denys l'auxerrois symbolises the passion of the senses and sebastian van storck the philosophic passion, as they certainly seem to do, though no mere formula or definition can adequately express the freedom and variety of the life that they portray, the passion for the imaginative world of art is the basis of the story of duke carl of rosenmold. duke carl is not unlike the late king of bavaria, in his love of france, his admiration for the grand monarque and his fantastic desire to amaze and to bewilder, but the resemblance is possibly only a chance one. in fact mr. pater's young hero is the precursor of the aufklarung of the last century, the german precursor of herder and lessing and goethe himself, and finds the forms of art ready to his hand without any national spirit to fill them or make them vital and responsive. he too dies, trampled to death by the soldiers of the country he so much admired, on the night of his marriage with a peasant girl, the very failure of his life lending him a certain melancholy grace and dramatic interest. on the whole, then, this is a singularly attractive book. mr. pater is an intellectual impressionist. he does not weary us with any definite doctrine or seek to suit life to any formal creed. he is always looking for exquisite moments and, when he has found them, he analyses them with delicate and delightful art and then passes on, often to the opposite pole of thought or feeling, knowing that every mood has its own quality and charm and is justified by its mere existence. he has taken the sensationalism of greek philosophy and made it a new method of art criticism. as for his style, it is curiously ascetic. now and then, we come across phrases with a strange sensuousness of expression, as when he tells us how denys l'auxerrois, on his return from a long journey, 'ate flesh for the first time, tearing the hot, red morsels with his delicate fingers in a kind of wild greed,' but such passages are rare. asceticism is the keynote of mr. pater's prose; at times it is almost too severe in its self-control and makes us long for a little more freedom. for indeed, the danger of such prose as his is that it is apt to become somewhat laborious. here and there, one is tempted to say of mr. pater that he is 'a seeker after something in language, that is there in no satisfying measure, or not at all.' the continual preoccupation with phrase and epithet has its drawbacks as well as its virtues. and yet, when all is said, what wonderful prose it is, with its subtle preferences, its fastidious purity, its rejection of what is common or ordinary! mr. pater has the true spirit of selection, the true tact of omission. if he be not among the greatest prose writers of our literature he is, at least, our greatest artist in prose; and though it may be admitted that the best style is that which seems an unconscious result rather than a conscious aim, still in these latter days when violent rhetoric does duty for eloquence and vulgarity usurps the name of nature, we should be grateful for a style that deliberately aims at perfection of form, that seeks to produce its effect by artistic means and sets before itself an ideal of grave and chastened beauty. imaginary portraits. by walter pater, m.a., fellow of brasenose college, oxford. (macmillan and co.) a good historical novel (pall mall gazette, august , .) most modern russian novelists look upon the historical novel as a faux genre, or a sort of fancy dress ball in literature, a mere puppet show, not a true picture of life. yet their own history is full of such wonderful scenes and situations, ready for dramatist or novelist to treat of, that we are not surprised that, in spite of the dogmas of the ecole naturaliste, mr. stephen coleridge has taken the russia of the sixteenth century as the background for his strange tale. indeed, there is much to be said in favour of a form remote from actual experience. passion itself gains something from picturesqueness of surroundings; distance of time, unlike distance of space, makes objects larger and more vivid; over the common things of contemporary life there hangs a mist of familiarity that often makes their meaning obscure. there are also moments when we feel that but little artistic pleasure is to be gained from the study of the modern realistic school. its works are powerful but they are painful, and after a time we tire of their harshness, their violence and their crudity. they exaggerate the importance of facts and underrate the importance of fiction. such, at any rate, is the mood--and what is criticism itself but a mood?--produced in us by a perusal of mr. coleridge's demetrius. it is the story of a young lad of unknown parentage who is brought up in the household of a polish noble. he is a tall, fair-looking youth, by name alexis, with a pride of bearing and grace of manner that seem strange in one of such low station. suddenly he is recognised by an exiled russian noble as demetrius, the son of ivan the terrible who was supposed to have been murdered by the usurper boris. his identity is still further established by a strange cross of seven emeralds that he wears round his neck, and by a greek inscription in his book of prayers which discloses the secret of his birth and the story of his rescue. he himself feels that the blood of kings beats in his veins, and appeals to the nobles of the polish diet to espouse his cause. by his passionate utterance he makes them acknowledge him as the true tsar and invades russia at the head of a large army. the people throng to him from every side, and marfa, the widow of ivan the terrible, escapes from the convent in which she has been immured by boris and comes to meet her son. at first she seems not to recognise him, but the music of his voice and the wonderful eloquence of his pleading win her over, and she embraces him in presence of the army and admits him to be her child. the usurper, terrified at the tidings, and deserted by his soldiers, commits suicide, and alexis enters moscow in triumph, and is crowned in the kremlin. yet he is not the true demetrius, after all. he is deceived himself and he deceives others. mr. coleridge has drawn his character with delicate subtlety and quick insight, and the scene in which he discovers that he is no son of ivan's and has no right to the name he claims, is exceedingly powerful and dramatic. one point of resemblance does exist between alexis and the real demetrius. both of them are murdered, and with the death of this strange hero mr. coleridge ends his remarkable story. on the whole, mr. coleridge has written a really good historical novel and may be congratulated on his success. the style is particularly interesting, and the narrative parts of the book are deserving of high praise for their clearness, dignity and sobriety. the speeches and passages of dialogue are not so fortunate, as they have an awkward tendency to lapse into bad blank verse. here, for instance, is a speech printed by mr. coleridge as prose, in which the true music of prose is sacrificed to a false metrical system which is at once monotonous and tiresome: but death, who brings us freedom from all falsehood, who heals the heart when the physician fails, who comforts all whom life cannot console, who stretches out in sleep the tired watchers; he takes the king and proves him but a beggar! he speaks, and we, deaf to our maker's voice, hear and obey the call of our destroyer! then let us murmur not at anything; for if our ills are curable, 'tis idle, and if they are past remedy, 'tis vain. the worst our strongest enemy can do is take from us our life, and this indeed is in the power of the weakest also. this is not good prose; it is merely blank verse of an inferior quality, and we hope that mr. coleridge in his next novel will not ask us to accept second-rate poetry as musical prose. for, that mr. coleridge is a young writer of great ability and culture cannot be doubted and, indeed, in spite of the error we have pointed out, demetrius remains one of the most fascinating and delightful novels that has appeared this season. demetrius. by the hon. stephen coleridge. (kegan paul.) new novels (saturday review, august , .) teutonic fiction, as a rule, is somewhat heavy and very sentimental; but werner's her son, excellently translated by miss tyrrell, is really a capital story and would make a capital play. old count steinruck has two grandsons, raoul and michael. the latter is brought up like a peasant's child, cruelly treated by his grandfather and by the peasant to whose care he is confided, his mother, the countess louis steinruck, having married an adventurer and a gambler. he is the rough hero of the tale, the saint michael of that war with evil which is life; while raoul, spoiled by his grandfather and his french mother, betrays his country and tarnishes his name. at every step in the narrative these two young men come into collision. there is a war of character, a clash of personalities. michael is proud, stern and noble. raoul is weak, charming and evil. michael has the world against him and conquers. raoul has the world on his side and loses. the whole story is full of movement and life, and the psychology of the characters is displayed by action not by analysis, by deeds not by description. though there are three long volumes, we do not tire of the tale. it has truth, passion and power, and there are no better things than these in fiction. the interest of mr. sale lloyd's scamp depends on one of those misunderstandings which is the stock-in-trade of second-rate novelists. captain egerton falls in love with miss adela thorndyke, who is a sort of feeble echo of some of miss broughton's heroines, but will not marry her because he has seen her talking with a young man who lives in the neighbourhood and is one of his oldest friends. we are sorry to say that miss thorndyke remains quite faithful to captain egerton, and goes so far as to refuse for his sake the rector of the parish, a local baronet, and a real live lord. there are endless pages of five o'clock tea-prattle and a good many tedious characters. such novels as scamp are possibly more easy to write than they are to read. james hepburn belongs to a very different class of book. it is not a mere chaos of conversation, but a strong story of real life, and it cannot fail to give miss veitch a prominent position among modern novelists. james hepburn is the free church minister of mossgiel, and presides over a congregation of pleasant sinners and serious hypocrites. two people interest him, lady ellinor farquharson and a handsome young vagabond called robert blackwood. through his efforts to save lady ellinor from shame and ruin he is accused of being her lover; through his intimacy with robert blackwood he is suspected of having murdered a young girl in his household. a meeting of the elders and office-bearers of the church is held to consider the question of the minister's resignation, at which, to the amazement of every one, robert blackwood comes forth and confesses to the crime of which hepburn is accused. the whole story is exceedingly powerful, and there is no extravagant use of the scotch dialect, which is a great advantage to the reader. the title-page of tiff informs us that it was written by the author of lucy; or, a great mistake, which seems to us a form of anonymity, as we have never heard of the novel in question. we hope, however, that it was better than tiff, for tiff is undeniably tedious. it is the story of a beautiful girl who has many lovers and loses them, and of an ugly girl who has one lover and keeps him. it is a rather confused tale, and there are far too many love-scenes in it. if this 'favourite fiction' series, in which tiff appears, is to be continued, we would entreat the publisher to alter the type and the binding. the former is far too small: while, as for the cover, it is of sham crocodile leather adorned with a blue spider and a vulgar illustration of the heroine in the arms of a young man in evening dress. dull as tiff is--and its dulness is quite remarkable--it does not deserve so detestable a binding. ( ) her son. translated from the german of e. werner by christina tyrrell. (richard bentley and son.) ( ) scamp. by j. sale lloyd. (white and co.) ( ) james hepburn. by sophie veitch. (alexander gardner.) ( ) tiff. by the author of lucy; or, a great mistake. 'favourite fiction' series. (william stevens.) two biographies of keats (pall mall gazette, september , .) a poet, said keats once, 'is the most unpoetical of all god's creatures,' and whether the aphorism be universally true or not, this is certainly the impression produced by the two last biographies that have appeared of keats himself. it cannot be said that either mr. colvin or mr. william rossetti makes us love keats more or understand him better. in both these books there is much that is like 'chaff in the mouth,' and in mr. rossetti's there is not a little that is like 'brass on the palate.' to a certain degree this is, no doubt, inevitable nowadays. everybody pays a penalty for peeping through keyholes, and the keyhole and the backstairs are essential parts of the method of the modern biographers. it is only fair, however, to state at the outset that mr. colvin has done his work much better than mr. rossetti. the account mr. colvin gives of keats's boyhood, for instance, is very pleasing, and so is the sketch of keats's circle of friends, both leigh hunt and haydon being admirably drawn. here and there, trivial family details are introduced without much regard to proportion, and the posthumous panegyrics of devoted friends are not really of so much value, in helping us to form any true estimate of keats's actual character, as mr. colvin seems to imagine. we have no doubt that when bailey wrote to lord houghton that common-sense and gentleness were keats's two special characteristics the worthy archdeacon meant extremely well, but we prefer the real keats, with his passionate wilfulness, his fantastic moods and his fine inconsistence. part of keats's charm as a man is his fascinating incompleteness. we do not want him reduced to a sand-paper smoothness or made perfect by the addition of popular virtues. still, if mr. colvin has not given us a very true picture of keats's character, he has certainly told the story of his life in a pleasant and readable manner. he may not write with the ease and grace of a man of letters, but he is never pretentious and not often pedantic. mr. rossetti's book is a great failure. to begin with, mr. rossetti commits the great mistake of separating the man from the artist. the facts of keats's life are interesting only when they are shown in their relation to his creative activity. the moment they are isolated they are either uninteresting or painful. mr. rossetti complains that the early part of keats's life is uneventful and the latter part depressing, but the fault lies with the biographer, not with the subject. the book opens with a detailed account of keats's life, in which he spares us nothing, from what he calls the 'sexual misadventure at oxford' down to the six weeks' dissipation after the appearance of the blackwood article and the hysterical and morbid ravings of the dying man. no doubt, most if not all of the things mr. rossetti tells us are facts; but there is neither tact shown in the selection that is made of the facts nor sympathy in the use to which they are put. when mr. rossetti writes of the man he forgets the poet, and when he criticises the poet he shows that he does not understand the man. his first error, as we have said, is isolating the life from the work; his second error is his treatment of the work itself. take, for instance, his criticism of that wonderful ode to a nightingale, with all its marvellous magic of music, colour and form. he begins by saying that 'the first point of weakness' in the poem is the 'surfeit of mythological allusions,' a statement which is absolutely untrue, as out of the eight stanzas of the poem only three contain any mythological allusions at all, and of these not one is either forced or remote. then coming to the second verse, oh for a draught of vintage, that hath been cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth, tasting of flora and the country-green, dance, and provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! mr. rossetti exclaims in a fine fit of 'blue ribbon' enthusiasm: 'surely nobody wants wine as a preparation for enjoying a nightingale's music, whether in a literal or in a fanciful relation'! 'to call wine "the true, the blushful hippocrene" . . . seems' to him 'both stilted and repulsive'; 'the phrase "with beaded bubbles winking at the brim" is (though picturesque) trivial'; 'the succeeding image, "not charioted by bacchus and his pards"' is 'far worse'; while such an expression as 'light-winged dryad of the trees' is an obvious pleonasm, for dryad really means oak-nymph! as for that superb burst of passion, thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! no hungry generations tread thee down; the voice i hear this passing night was heard in ancient days by emperor and clown: mr. rossetti tells us that it is a palpable, or rather 'palpaple (sic) fact that this address . . . is a logical solecism,' as men live longer than nightingales. as mr. colvin makes very much the same criticism, talking of 'a breach of logic which is also . . . a flaw in the poetry,' it may be worth while to point out to these two last critics of keats's work that what keats meant to convey was the contrast between the permanence of beauty and the change and decay of human life, an idea which receives its fullest expression in the ode on a grecian urn. nor do the other poems fare much better at mr. rossetti's hands. the fine invocation in isabella-- moan hither, all ye syllables of woe, from the deep throat of sad melpomene! through bronzed lyre in tragic order go, and touch the strings into a mystery, seems to him 'a fadeur'; the indian bacchante of the fourth book of endymion he calls a 'sentimental and beguiling wine-bibber,' and, as for endymion himself, he declares that he cannot understand 'how his human organism, _with respirative and digestive processes_, continues to exist,' and gives us his own idea of how keats should have treated the subject. an eminent french critic once exclaimed in despair, 'je trouve des physiologistes partout!'; but it has been reserved for mr. rossetti to speculate on endymion's digestion, and we readily accord to him all the distinction of the position. even where mr. rossetti seeks to praise, he spoils what he praises. to speak of hyperion as 'a monument of cyclopean architecture in verse' is bad enough, but to call it 'a stonehenge of reverberance' is absolutely detestable; nor do we learn much about the eve of st. mark by being told that its 'simplicity is full- blooded as well as quaint.' what is the meaning, also, of stating that keats's notes on shakespeare are 'somewhat strained and _bloated_'? and is there nothing better to be said of madeline in the eve of st. agnes than that 'she is made a very charming and loveable figure, _although she does nothing very particular except to undress without looking behind her, and to elope_'? there is no necessity to follow mr. rossetti any further as he flounders about through the quagmire that he has made for his own feet. a critic who can say that 'not many of keats's poems are highly admirable' need not be too seriously treated. mr. rossetti is an industrious man and a painstaking writer, but he entirely lacks the temper necessary for the interpretation of such poetry as was written by john keats. it is pleasant to turn again to mr. colvin, who criticises always with modesty and often with acumen. we do not agree with him when he accepts mrs. owens's theory of a symbolic and allegoric meaning underlying endymion, his final judgment on keats as 'the most shaksperean spirit that has lived since shakspere' is not very fortunate, and we are surprised to find him suggesting, on the evidence of a rather silly story of severn's, that sir walter scott was privy to the blackwood article. there is nothing, however, about his estimate of the poet's work that is harsh, irritating or uncouth. the true marcellus of english song has not yet found his virgil, but mr. colvin makes a tolerable statius. ( ) keats. by sidney colvin. 'english men of letters' series. (macmillan and co.) ( ) life of john keats. by william michael rossetti. 'great writers' series. (walter scott.) a scotchman on scottish poetry (pall mall gazette, october , .) a distinguished living critic, born south of the tweed, once whispered in confidence to a friend that he believed that the scotch knew really very little about their own national literature. he quite admitted that they love their 'robbie burns' and their 'sir walter' with a patriotic enthusiasm that makes them extremely severe upon any unfortunate southron who ventures to praise either in their presence, but he claimed that the works of such great national poets as dunbar, henryson and sir david lyndsay are sealed books to the majority of the reading public in edinburgh, aberdeen and glasgow, and that few scotch people have any idea of the wonderful outburst of poetry that took place in their country during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, at a time when there was little corresponding development in england. whether this terrible accusation be absolutely true, or not, it is needless to discuss at present. it is probable that the archaism of language alone will always prevent a poet like dunbar from being popular in the ordinary acceptation of the word. professor veitch's book, however, shows that there are some, at any rate, in the 'land o' cakes' who can admire and appreciate their marvellous early singers, and whose admiration for the lord of the isles and the verses to a mountain daisy does not blind them to the exquisite beauties of the testament of cresseid, the thistle and the rose, and the dialog betwix experience and ane courteour. taking as the subject of his two interesting volumes the feeling for nature in scottish poetry, professor veitch starts with a historical disquisition on the growth of the sentiment in humanity. the primitive state he regards as being simply a sort of 'open-air feeling.' the chief sources of pleasure are the warmth of the sunshine, the cool of the breeze and the general fresh aspect of the earth and sky, connecting itself with a consciousness of life and sensuous enjoyment; while darkness, storm and cold are regarded as repulsive. this is followed by the pastoral stage in which we find the love of green meadows and of shady trees and of all things that make life pleasant and comfortable. this, again, by the stage of agriculture, the era of the war with earth, when men take pleasure in the cornfield and in the garden, but hate everything that is opposed to tillage, such as woodland and rock, or that cannot be subdued to utility, such as mountain and sea. finally we come to the pure nature-feeling, the free delight in the mere contemplation of the external world, the joy in sense-impressions irrespective of all questions of nature's utility and beneficence. but here the growth does not stop. the greek, desiring to make nature one with humanity, peopled the grove and hillside with beautiful and fantastic forms, saw the god hiding in the thicket, and the naiad drifting with the stream. the modern wordsworthian, desiring to make man one with nature, finds in external things 'the symbols of our inner life, the workings of a spirit akin to our own.' there is much that is suggestive in these early chapters of professor veitch's book, but we cannot agree with him in the view he takes of the primitive attitude towards nature. the 'open-air feeling,' of which he talks, seems to us comparatively modern. the earliest nature-myths tell us, not of man's 'sensuous enjoyment' of nature, but of the terror that nature inspires. nor are darkness and storm regarded by the primitive man as 'simply repulsive'; they are to him divine and supernatural things, full of wonder and full of awe. some reference, also, should have been made to the influence of towns on the development of the nature-feeling, for, paradox though it may seem, it is none the less true that it is largely to the creation of cities that we owe the love of the country. professor veitch is on a safer ground when he comes to deal with the growth and manifestations of this feeling as displayed in scotch poetry. the early singers, as he points out, had all the mediaeval love of gardens, all the artistic delight in the bright colours of flowers and the pleasant song of birds, but they felt no sympathy for the wild solitary moorland, with its purple heather, its grey rocks and its waving bracken. montgomerie was the first to wander out on the banks and braes and to listen to the music of the burns, and it was reserved for drummond of hawthornden to sing of flood and forest and to notice the beauty of the mists on the hillside and the snow on the mountain tops. then came allan ramsay with his honest homely pastorals; thomson, who writes about nature like an eloquent auctioneer, and yet was a keen observer, with a fresh eye and an open heart; beattie, who approached the problems that wordsworth afterwards solved; the great celtic epic of ossian, such an important factor in the romantic movement of germany and france; fergusson, to whom burns is so much indebted; burns himself, leyden, sir walter scott, james hogg and (longo intervallo) christopher north and the late professor shairp. on nearly all these poets professor veitch writes with fine judgment and delicate feeling, and even his admiration for burns has nothing absolutely aggressive about it. he shows, however, a certain lack of the true sense of literary proportion in the amount of space he devotes to the two last writers on our list. christopher north was undoubtedly an interesting personality to the edinburgh of his day, but he has not left behind him anything of real permanent value. there was too much noise in his criticism, too little music in his poetry. as for professor shairp, looked on as a critic he was a tragic example of the unfortunate influence of wordsworth, for he was always confusing ethical with aesthetical questions, and never had the slightest idea how to approach such poets as shelley and rossetti whom it was his mission to interpret to young oxford in his later years; { } while, considered as a poet, he deserves hardly more than a passing reference. professor veitch gravely tells us that one of the descriptions of kilmahoe is 'not surpassed in the language for real presence, felicity of epithet, and purity of reproduction,' and statements of this kind serve to remind us of the fact that a criticism which is based on patriotism is always provincial in its result. but it is only fair to add that it is very rarely that professor veitch is so extravagant and so grotesque. his judgment and taste are, as a rule, excellent, and his book is, on the whole, a very fascinating and delightful contribution to the history of literature. the feeling for nature in scottish poetry. by john veitch, professor of logic and rhetoric in the university of glasgow. (blackwood and son.) literary and other notes--i (woman's world, november .) the princess christian's translation of the memoirs of wilhelmine, margravine of baireuth, is a most fascinating and delightful book. the margravine and her brother, frederick the great, were, as the princess herself points out in an admirably written introduction, 'among the first of those questioning minds that strove after spiritual freedom' in the last century. 'they had studied,' says the princess, 'the english philosophers, newton, locke, and shaftesbury, and were roused to enthusiasm by the writings of voltaire and rousseau. their whole lives bore the impress of the influence of french thought on the burning questions of the day. in the eighteenth century began that great struggle of philosophy against tyranny and worn-out abuses which culminated in the french revolution. the noblest minds were engaged in the struggle, and, like most reformers, they pushed their conclusions to extremes, and too often lost sight of the need of a due proportion in things. the margravine's influence on the intellectual development of her country is untold. she formed at baireuth a centre of culture and learning which had before been undreamt of in germany.' the historical value of these memoirs is, of course, well known. carlyle speaks of them as being 'by far the best authority' on the early life of frederick the great. but considered merely as the autobiography of a clever and charming woman, they are no less interesting, and even those who care nothing for eighteenth-century politics, and look upon history itself as an unattractive form of fiction, cannot fail to be fascinated by the margravine's wit, vivacity and humour, by her keen powers of observation, and by her brilliant and assertive egotism. not that her life was by any means a happy one. her father, to quote the princess christian, 'ruled his family with the same harsh despotism with which he ruled his country, taking pleasure in making his power felt by all in the most galling manner,' and the margravine and her brother 'had much to suffer, not only from his ungovernable temper, but also from the real privations to which they were subjected.' indeed, the picture the margravine gives of the king is quite extraordinary. 'he despised all learning,' she writes, 'and wished me to occupy myself with nothing but needlework and household duties or details. had he found me writing or reading, he would probably have whipped me.' he 'considered music a capital offence, and maintained that every one should devote himself to one object: men to the military service, and women to their household duties. science and the arts he counted among the "seven deadly sins."' sometimes he took to religion, 'and then,' says the margravine, 'we lived like trappists, to the great grief of my brother and myself. every afternoon the king preached a sermon, to which we had to listen as attentively as if it proceeded from an apostle. my brother and i were often seized with such an intense sense of the ridiculous that we burst out laughing, upon which an apostolic curse was poured out on our heads, which we had to accept with a show of humility and penitence.' economy and soldiers were his only topics of conversation; his chief social amusement was to make his guests intoxicated; and as for his temper, the accounts the margravine gives of it would be almost incredible if they were not amply corroborated from other sources. suetonius has written of the strange madness that comes on kings, but even in his melodramatic chronicles there is hardly anything that rivals what the margravine has to tell us. here is one of her pictures of family life at a royal court in the last century, and it is not by any means the worst scene she describes: on one occasion, when his temper was more than usually bad, he told the queen that he had received letters from anspach, in which the margrave announced his arrival at berlin for the beginning of may. he was coming there for the purpose of marrying my sister, and one of his ministers would arrive previously with the betrothal ring. my father asked my sister whether she were pleased at this prospect, and how she would arrange her household. now my sister had always made a point of telling him whatever came into her head, even the greatest home-truths, and he had never taken her outspokenness amiss. on this occasion, therefore, relying on former experience, she answered him as follows: 'when i have a house of my own, i shall take care to have a well-appointed dinner-table, better than yours is, and if i have children of my own, i shall not plague them as you do yours, and force them to eat things they thoroughly dislike!' 'what is amiss with my dinner-table?' the king enquired, getting very red in the face. 'you ask what is the matter with it,' my sister replied; 'there is not enough on it for us to eat, and what there is is cabbage and carrots, which we detest.' her first answer had already angered my father, but now he gave vent to his fury. but instead of punishing my sister he poured it all on my mother, my brother, and myself. to begin with he threw his plate at my brother's head, who would have been struck had he not got out of the way; a second one he threw at me, which i also happily escaped; then torrents of abuse followed these first signs of hostility. he reproached the queen with having brought up her children so badly. 'you will curse your mother,' he said to my brother, 'for having made you such a good-for-nothing creature.' . . . as my brother and i passed near him to leave the room, he hit out at us with his crutch. happily we escaped the blow; for it would certainly have struck us down, and we at last escaped without harm. yet, as the princess christian remarks, 'despite the almost cruel treatment wilhelmine received from her father, it is noticeable that throughout her memoirs she speaks of him with the greatest affection. she makes constant reference to his "good heart"'; and says that his faults 'were more those of temper than of nature.' nor could all the misery and wretchedness of her home life dull the brightness of her intellect. what would have made others morbid, made her satirical. instead of weeping over her own personal tragedies, she laughs at the general comedy of life. here, for instance, is her description of peter the great and his wife, who arrived at berlin in : the czarina was small, broad, and brown-looking, without the slightest dignity or appearance. you had only to look at her to detect her low origin. she might have passed for a german actress, she had decked herself out in such a manner. her dress had been bought second-hand, and was trimmed with some dirty looking silver embroidery; the bodice was trimmed with precious stones, arranged in such a manner as to represent the double eagle. she wore a dozen orders; and round the bottom of her dress hung quantities of relics and pictures of saints, which rattled when she walked, and reminded one of a smartly harnessed mule. the orders too made a great noise, knocking against each other. the czar, on the other hand, was tall and well grown, with a handsome face, but his expression was coarse, and impressed one with fear. he wore a simple sailor's dress. his wife, who spoke german very badly, called her court jester to her aid, and spoke russian with her. this poor creature was a princess gallizin, who had been obliged to undertake this sorry office to save her life, as she had been mixed up in a conspiracy against the czar, and had twice been flogged with the knout! * * * * * * the following day [the czar] visited all the sights of berlin, amongst others the very curious collection of coins and antiques. amongst these last named was a statue, representing a heathen god. it was anything but attractive, but was the most valuable in the collection. the czar admired it very much, and insisted on the czarina kissing it. on her refusing, he said to her in bad german that she should lose her head if she did not at once obey him. being terrified at the czar's anger she immediately complied with his orders without the least hesitation. the czar asked the king to give him this and other statues, a request which he could not refuse. the same thing happened about a cupboard, inlaid with amber. it was the only one of its kind, and had cost king frederick i. an enormous sum, and the consternation was general on its having to be sent to petersburg. this barbarous court happily left after two days. the queen rushed at once to monbijou, which she found in a state resembling that of the fall of jerusalem. i never saw such a sight. everything was destroyed, so that the queen was obliged to rebuild the whole house. nor are the margravine's descriptions of her reception as a bride in the principality of baireuth less amusing. hof was the first town she came to, and a deputation of nobles was waiting there to welcome her. this is her account of them: their faces would have frightened little children, and, to add to their beauty, they had arranged their hair to resemble the wigs that were then in fashion. their dresses clearly denoted the antiquity of their families, as they were composed of heirlooms, and were cut accordingly, so that most of them did not fit. in spite of their costumes being the 'court dresses,' the gold and silver trimmings were so black that you had a difficulty in making out of what they were made. the manners of these nobles suited their faces and their clothes. they might have passed for peasants. i could scarcely restrain my laughter when i first beheld these strange figures. i spoke to each in turn, but none of them understood what i said, and their replies sounded to me like hebrew, because the dialect of the empire is quite different from that spoken in brandenburg. the clergy also presented themselves. these were totally different creatures. round their necks they wore great ruffs, which resembled washing baskets. they spoke very slowly, so that i might be able to understand them better. they said the most foolish things, and it was only with much difficulty that i was able to prevent myself from laughing. at last i got rid of all these people, and we sat down to dinner. i tried my best to converse with those at table, but it was useless. at last i touched on agricultural topics, and then they began to thaw. i was at once informed of all their different farmsteads and herds of cattle. an almost interesting discussion took place as to whether the oxen in the upper part of the country were fatter than those in the lowlands. * * * * * i was told that as the next day was sunday, i must spend it at hof, and listen to a sermon. never before had i heard such a sermon! the clergyman began by giving us an account of all the marriages that had taken place from adam's time to that of noah. we were spared no detail, so that the gentlemen all laughed and the poor ladies blushed. the dinner went off as on the previous day. in the afternoon all the ladies came to pay me their respects. gracious heavens! what ladies, too! they were all as ugly as the gentlemen, and their head-dresses were so curious that swallows might have built their nests in them. as for baireuth itself, and its petty court, the picture she gives of it is exceedingly curious. her father-in-law, the reigning margrave, was a narrow-minded mediocrity, whose conversation 'resembled that of a sermon read aloud for the purpose of sending the listener to sleep,' and he had only two topics, telemachus, and amelot de la houssaye's roman history. the ministers, from baron von stein, who always said 'yes' to everything, to baron von voit, who always said 'no,' were not by any means an intellectual set of men. 'their chief amusement,' says the margravine, 'was drinking from morning till night,' and horses and cattle were all they talked about. the palace itself was shabby, decayed and dirty. 'i was like a lamb among wolves,' cries the poor margravine; 'i was settled in a strange country, at a court which more resembled a peasant's farm, surrounded by coarse, bad, dangerous, and tiresome people.' yet her esprit never deserted her. she is always clever, witty, and entertaining. her stories about the endless squabbles over precedence are extremely amusing. the society of her day cared very little for good manners, knew, indeed, very little about them, but all questions of etiquette were of vital importance, and the margravine herself, though she saw the shallowness of the whole system, was far too proud not to assert her rights when circumstances demanded it, as the description she gives of her visit to the empress of germany shows very clearly. when this meeting was first proposed, the margravine declined positively to entertain the idea. 'there was no precedent,' she writes, 'of a king's daughter and the empress having met, and i did not know to what rights i ought to lay claim.' finally, however, she is induced to consent, but she lays down three conditions for her reception: i desired first of all that the empress's court should receive me at the foot of the stairs, secondly, that she should meet me at the door of her bedroom, and, thirdly, that she should offer me an armchair to sit on. * * * * * they disputed all day over the conditions i had made. the two first were granted me, but all that could be obtained with respect to the third was, that the empress would use quite a small armchair, whilst she gave me a chair. next day i saw this royal personage. i own that had i been in her place i would have made all the rules of etiquette and ceremony the excuse for not being obliged to appear. the empress was small and stout, round as a ball, very ugly, and without dignity or manner. her mind corresponded to her body. she was terribly bigoted, and spent her whole day praying. the old and ugly are generally the almighty's portion. she received me trembling all over, and was so upset that she could not say a word. after some silence i began the conversation in french. she answered me in her austrian dialect that she could not speak in that language, and begged i would speak in german. the conversation did not last long, for the austrian and low saxon tongues are so different from each other that to those acquainted with only one the other is unintelligible. this is what happened to us. a third person would have laughed at our misunderstandings, for we caught only a word here and there, and had to guess the rest. the poor empress was such a slave to etiquette that she would have thought it high treason had she spoken to me in a foreign language, though she understood french quite well. many other extracts might be given from this delightful book, but from the few that have been selected some idea can be formed of the vivacity and picturesqueness of the margravine's style. as for her character, it is very well summed up by the princess christian, who, while admitting that she often appears almost heartless and inconsiderate, yet claims that, 'taken as a whole, she stands out in marked prominence among the most gifted women of the eighteenth century, not only by her mental powers, but by her goodness of heart, her self-sacrificing devotion, and true friendship.' an interesting sequel to her memoirs would be her correspondence with voltaire, and it is to be hoped that we may shortly see a translation of these letters from the same accomplished pen to which we owe the present volume. { } * * * * * women's voices is an anthology of the most characteristic poems by english, scotch and irish women, selected and arranged by mrs. william sharp. 'the idea of making this anthology,' says mrs. sharp, in her preface, 'arose primarily from the conviction that our women-poets had never been collectively represented with anything like adequate justice; that the works of many are not so widely known as they deserve to be; and that at least some fine fugitive poetry could be thus rescued from oblivion'; and mrs. sharp proceeds to claim that the 'selections will further emphasise the value of women's work in poetry for those who are already well acquainted with english literature, and that they will convince many it is as possible to form an anthology of "pure poetry" from the writings of women as from those of men.' it is somewhat difficult to define what 'pure poetry' really is, but the collection is certainly extremely interesting, extending, as it does, over nearly three centuries of our literature. it opens with revenge, a poem by the 'learned, virtuous, and truly noble ladie,' elizabeth carew, who published a tragedie of marian, the faire queene of iewry, in , from which revenge is taken. then come some very pretty verses by margaret, duchess of newcastle, who produced a volume of poems in . they are supposed to be sung by a sea-goddess, and their fantastic charm and the graceful wilfulness of their fancy are well worthy of note, as these first stanzas show: my cabinets are oyster-shells, in which i keep my orient pearls; and modest coral i do wear, which blushes when it touches air. on silvery waves i sit and sing, and then the fish lie listening: then resting on a rocky stone i comb my hair with fishes' bone; the whilst apollo with his beams doth dry my hair from soaking streams, his light doth glaze the water's face, and make the sea my looking-glass. then follow friendship's mystery, by 'the matchless orinda,' mrs. katherine philips; a song, by mrs. aphra behn, 'the first english woman who adopted literature as a profession'; and the countess of winchelsea's nocturnal reverie. wordsworth once said that, with the exception of this poem and pope's windsor forest, 'the poetry of the period intervening between paradise lost and the seasons does not contain a single new image of external nature,' and though the statement is hardly accurate, as it leaves gay entirely out of account, it must be admitted that the simple naturalism of lady winchelsea's description is extremely remarkable. passing on through mrs. sharp's collection, we come across poems by lady grisell baillie; by jean adams, a poor 'sewing-maid in a scotch manse,' who died in the greenock workhouse; by isobel pagan, 'an ayrshire lucky, who kept an alehouse, and sold whiskey without a license,' 'and sang her own songs as a means of subsistence'; by mrs. thrale, dr. johnson's friend; by mrs. hunter, the wife of the great anatomist; by the worthy mrs. barbauld; and by the excellent mrs. hannah more. here is miss anna seward, 'called by her admirers "the swan of lichfield,"' who was so angry with dr. darwin for plagiarising some of her verses; lady anne barnard, whose auld robin gray was described by sir walter scott as 'worth all the dialogues corydon and phyllis have together spoken from the days of theocritus downwards'; jean glover, a scottish weaver's daughter, who 'married a strolling player and became the best singer and actor of his troop'; joanna baillie, whose tedious dramas thrilled our grandfathers; mrs. tighe, whose psyche was very much admired by keats in his youthful days; frances kemble, mrs. siddons's niece; poor l. e. l., whom disraeli described as 'the personification of brompton, pink satin dress, white satin shoes, red cheeks, snub nose, and her hair a la sappho'; the two beautiful sisters, lady dufferin and mrs. norton; emily bronte, whose poems are instinct with tragic power and quite terrible in their bitter intensity of passion, the fierce fire of feeling seeming almost to consume the raiment of form; eliza cook, a kindly, vulgar writer; george eliot, whose poetry is too abstract, and lacks all rhythmical life; mrs. carlyle, who wrote much better poetry than her husband, though this is hardly high praise; and mrs. browning, the first really great poetess in our literature. nor are contemporary writers forgotten. christina rossetti, some of whose poems are quite priceless in their beauty; mrs. augusta webster, mrs. hamilton king, miss mary robinson, mrs. craik; jean ingelow, whose sonnet on an ancient chess king is like an exquisitely carved gem; mrs. pfeiffer; miss may probyn, a poetess with the true lyrical impulse of song, whose work is as delicate as it is delightful; mrs. nesbit, a very pure and perfect artist; miss rosa mulholland, miss katharine tynan, lady charlotte elliot, and many other well-known writers, are duly and adequately represented. on the whole, mrs. sharp's collection is very pleasant reading indeed, and the extracts given from the works of living poetesses are extremely remarkable, not merely for their absolute artistic excellence, but also for the light they throw upon the spirit of modern culture. it is not, however, by any means a complete anthology. dame juliana berners is possibly too antiquated in style to be suitable to a modern audience. but where is anne askew, who wrote a ballad in newgate; and where is queen elizabeth, whose 'most sweet and sententious ditty' on mary stuart is so highly praised by puttenham as an example of 'exargasia,' or the gorgeous in literature? why is the countess of pembroke excluded? sidney's sister should surely have a place in any anthology of english verse. where is sidney's niece, lady mary wroth, to whom ben jonson dedicated the alchemist? where is 'the noble ladie diana primrose,' who wrote a chain of pearl, or a memorial of the peerless graces and heroic virtues of queen elizabeth, of glorious memory? where is mary morpeth, the friend and admirer of drummond of hawthornden? where is the princess elizabeth, daughter of james i., and where is anne killigrew, maid of honour to the duchess of york? the marchioness of wharton, whose poems were praised by waller; lady chudleigh, whose lines beginning-- wife and servant are the same, but only differ in the name, are very curious and interesting; rachel lady russell, constantia grierson, mary barber, laetitia pilkington; eliza haywood, whom pope honoured by a place in the dunciad; lady luxborough, lord bolingbroke's half-sister; lady mary wortley montagu; lady temple, whose poems were printed by horace walpole; perdita, whose lines on the snowdrop are very pathetic; the beautiful duchess of devonshire, of whom gibbon said that 'she was made for something better than a duchess'; mrs. ratcliffe, mrs. chapone, and amelia opie, all deserve a place on historical, if not on artistic, grounds. in fact, the space given by mrs. sharp to modern and living poetesses is somewhat disproportionate, and i am sure that those on whose brows the laurels are still green would not grudge a little room to those the green of whose laurels is withered and the music of whose lyres is mute. * * * * * one of the most powerful and pathetic novels that has recently appeared is a village tragedy by margaret l. woods. to find any parallel to this lurid little story, one must go to dostoieffski or to guy de maupassant. not that mrs. woods can be said to have taken either of these two great masters of fiction as her model, but there is something in her work that recalls their method; she has not a little of their fierce intensity, their terrible concentration, their passionless yet poignant objectivity; like them, she seems to allow life to suggest its own mode of presentation; and, like them, she recognises that a frank acceptance of the facts of life is the true basis of all modern imitative art. the scene of mrs. woods's story lies in one of the villages near oxford; the characters are very few in number, and the plot is extremely simple. it is a romance of modern arcadia--a tale of the love of a farm-labourer for a girl who, though slightly above him in social station and education, is yet herself also a servant on a farm. true arcadians they are, both of them, and their ignorance and isolation serve only to intensify the tragedy that gives the story its title. it is the fashion nowadays to label literature, so, no doubt, mrs. woods's novel will be spoken of as 'realistic.' its realism, however, is the realism of the artist, not of the reporter; its tact of treatment, subtlety of perception, and fine distinction of style, make it rather a poem than a proces-verbal; and though it lays bare to us the mere misery of life, it suggests something of life's mystery also. very delicate, too, is the handling of external nature. there are no formal guide-book descriptions of scenery, nor anything of what byron petulantly called 'twaddling about trees,' but we seem to breathe the atmosphere of the country, to catch the exquisite scent of the beanfields, so familiar to all who have ever wandered through the oxfordshire lanes in june; to hear the birds singing in the thicket, and the sheep-bells tinkling from the hill. characterisation, that enemy of literary form, is such an essential part of the method of the modern writer of fiction, that nature has almost become to the novelist what light and shade are to the painter--the one permanent element of style; and if the power of a village tragedy be due to its portrayal of human life, no small portion of its charm comes from its theocritean setting. * * * * * it is, however, not merely in fiction and in poetry that the women of this century are making their mark. their appearance amongst the prominent speakers at the church congress, some weeks ago, was in itself a very remarkable proof of the growing influence of women's opinions on all matters connected with the elevation of our national life, and the amelioration of our social conditions. when the bishops left the platform to their wives, it may be said that a new era began, and the change will, no doubt, be productive of much good. the apostolic dictum, that women should not be suffered to teach, is no longer applicable to a society such as ours, with its solidarity of interests, its recognition of natural rights, and its universal education, however suitable it may have been to the greek cities under roman rule. nothing in the united states struck me more than the fact that the remarkable intellectual progress of that country is very largely due to the efforts of american women, who edit many of the most powerful magazines and newspapers, take part in the discussion of every question of public interest, and exercise an important influence upon the growth and tendencies of literature and art. indeed, the women of america are the one class in the community that enjoys that leisure which is so necessary for culture. the men are, as a rule, so absorbed in business, that the task of bringing some element of form into the chaos of daily life is left almost entirely to the opposite sex, and an eminent bostonian once assured me that in the twentieth century the whole culture of his country would be in petticoats. by that time, however, it is probable that the dress of the two sexes will be assimilated, as similarity of costume always follows similarity of pursuits. * * * * * in a recent article in la france, m. sarcey puts this point very well. the further we advance, he says, the more apparent does it become that women are to take their share as bread-winners in the world. the task is no longer monopolised by men, and will, perhaps, be equally shared by the sexes in another hundred years. it will be necessary, however, for women to invent a suitable costume, as their present style of dress is quite inappropriate to any kind of mechanical labour, and must be radically changed before they can compete with men upon their own ground. as to the question of desirability, m. sarcey refuses to speak. 'i shall not see the end of this revolution,' he remarks, 'and i am glad of it.' but, as is pointed out in a very sensible article in the daily news, there is no doubt that m. sarcey has reason and common-sense on his side with regard to the absolute unsuitability of ordinary feminine attire to any sort of handicraft, or even to any occupation which necessitates a daily walk to business and back again in all kinds of weather. women's dress can easily be modified and adapted to any exigencies of the kind; but most women refuse to modify or adapt it. they must follow the fashion, whether it be convenient or the reverse. and, after all, what is a fashion? from the artistic point of view, it is usually a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months. from the point of view of science, it not unfrequently violates every law of health, every principle of hygiene. while from the point of view of simple ease and comfort, it is not too much to say that, with the exception of m. felix's charming tea-gowns, and a few english tailor-made costumes, there is not a single form of really fashionable dress that can be worn without a certain amount of absolute misery to the wearer. the contortion of the feet of the chinese beauty, said dr. naftel at the last international medical congress, held at washington, is no more barbarous or unnatural than the panoply of the femme du monde. and yet how sensible is the dress of the london milk-woman, of the irish or scotch fishwife, of the north-country factory-girl! an attempt was made recently to prevent the pit-women from working, on the ground that their costume was unsuited to their sex, but it is really only the idle classes who dress badly. wherever physical labour of any kind is required, the costume used is, as a rule, absolutely right, for labour necessitates freedom, and without freedom there is no such thing as beauty in dress at all. in fact, the beauty of dress depends on the beauty of the human figure, and whatever limits, constrains, and mutilates is essentially ugly, though the eyes of many are so blinded by custom that they do not notice the ugliness till it has become unfashionable. what women's dress will be in the future it is difficult to say. the writer of the daily news article is of opinion that skirts will always be worn as distinctive of the sex, and it is obvious that men's dress, in its present condition, is not by any means an example of a perfectly rational costume. it is more than probable, however, that the dress of the twentieth century will emphasise distinctions of occupation, not distinctions of sex. * * * * * it is hardly too much to say that, by the death of the author of john halifax, gentleman, our literature has sustained a heavy loss. mrs. craik was one of the finest of our women-writers, and though her art had always what keats called 'a palpable intention upon one,' still its imaginative qualities were of no mean order. there is hardly one of her books that has not some distinction of style; there is certainly not one of them that does not show an ardent love of all that is beautiful and good in life. the good she, perhaps, loved somewhat more than the beautiful, but her heart had room for both. her first novel appeared in , the year of the publication of charlotte bronte's jane eyre, and mrs. gaskell's ruth, and her last work was done for the magazine which i have the honour to edit. she was very much interested in the scheme for the foundation of the woman's world, suggested its title, and promised to be one of its warmest supporters. one article from her pen is already in proof and will appear next month, and in a letter i received from her, a few days before she died, she told me that she had almost finished a second, to be called between schooldays and marriage. few women have enjoyed a greater popularity than mrs. craik, or have better deserved it. it is sometimes said that john halifax is not a real man, but only a woman's ideal of a man. well, let us be grateful for such ideals. no one can read the story of which john halifax is the hero without being the better for it. mrs. craik will live long in the affectionate memory of all who knew her, and one of her novels, at any rate, will always have a high and honourable place in english fiction. indeed, for simple narrative power, some of the chapters of john halifax, gentleman, are almost unequalled in our prose literature. * * * * * the news of the death of lady brassey has been also received by the english people with every expression of sorrow and sympathy. though her books were not remarkable for any perfection of literary style, they had the charm of brightness, vivacity, and unconventionality. they revealed a fascinating personality, and their touches of domesticity made them classics in many an english household. in all modern movements lady brassey took a keen interest. she gained a first-class certificate in the south kensington school of cookery, scullery department and all; was one of the most energetic members of the st. john's ambulance association, many branches of which she succeeded in founding; and, whether at normanhurst or in park lane, always managed to devote some portion of her day to useful and practical work. it is sad to have to chronicle in the first number of the woman's world the death of two of the most remarkable englishwomen of our day. ( ) memoirs of wilhelmine margravine of baireuth. translated and edited by her royal highness princess christian of schleswig-holstein, princess of great britain and ireland. (david stott.) ( ) women's voices: an anthology of the most characteristic poems by english, scotch, and irish women. selected, edited, and arranged by mrs. william sharp. (walter scott.) ( ) a village tragedy. by margaret l. woods. (bentley and son.) mr. mahaffy's new book (pall mall gazette, november , .) mr. mahaffy's new book will be a great disappointment to everybody except the paper-unionists and the members of the primrose league. his subject, the history of greek life and thought: from the age of alexander to the roman conquest, is extremely interesting, but the manner in which the subject is treated is quite unworthy of a scholar, nor can there be anything more depressing than mr. mahaffy's continual efforts to degrade history to the level of the ordinary political pamphlet of contemporary party warfare. there is, of course, no reason why mr. mahaffy should be called upon to express any sympathy with the aspirations of the old greek cities for freedom and autonomy. the personal preferences of modern historians on these points are matters of no import whatsoever. but in his attempts to treat the hellenic world as 'tipperary writ large,' to use alexander the great as a means of whitewashing mr. smith, and to finish the battle of chaeronea on the plains of mitchelstown, mr. mahaffy shows an amount of political bias and literary blindness that is quite extraordinary. he might have made his book a work of solid and enduring interest, but he has chosen to give it a merely ephemeral value and to substitute for the scientific temper of the true historian the prejudice, the flippancy, and the violence of the platform partisan. for the flippancy parallels can, no doubt, be found in some of mr. mahaffy's earlier books, but the prejudice and the violence are new, and their appearance is very much to be regretted. there is always something peculiarly impotent about the violence of a literary man. it seems to bear no reference to facts, for it is never kept in check by action. it is simply a question of adjectives and rhetoric, of exaggeration and over- emphasis. mr. balfour is very anxious that mr. william o'brien should wear prison clothes, sleep on a plank bed, and be subjected to other indignities, but mr. mahaffy goes far beyond such mild measures as these, and begins his history by frankly expressing his regret that demosthenes was not summarily put to death for his attempt to keep the spirit of patriotism alive among the citizens of athens! indeed, he has no patience with what he calls 'the foolish and senseless opposition to macedonia'; regards the revolt of the spartans against 'alexander's lord lieutenant for greece' as an example of 'parochial politics'; indulges in primrose league platitudes against a low franchise and the iniquity of allowing 'every pauper' to have a vote; and tells us that the 'demagogues' and 'pretended patriots' were so lost to shame that they actually preached to the parasitic mob of athens the doctrine of autonomy--'not now extinct,' mr. mahaffy adds regretfully--and propounded, as a principle of political economy, the curious idea that people should be allowed to manage their own affairs! as for the personal character of the despots, mr. mahaffy admits that if he had to judge by the accounts in the greek historians, from herodotus downwards, he 'would certainly have said that the ineffaceable passion for autonomy, which marks every epoch of greek history, and every canton within its limits, must have arisen from the excesses committed by the officers of foreign potentates, or local tyrants,' but a careful study of the cartoons published in united ireland has convinced him 'that a ruler may be the soberest, the most conscientious, the most considerate, and yet have terrible things said of him by mere political malcontents.' in fact, since mr. balfour has been caricatured, greek history must be entirely rewritten! this is the pass to which the distinguished professor of a distinguished university has been brought. nor can anything equal mr. mahaffy's prejudice against the greek patriots, unless it be his contempt for those few fine romans who, sympathising with hellenic civilisation and culture, recognised the political value of autonomy and the intellectual importance of a healthy national life. he mocks at what he calls their 'vulgar mawkishness about greek liberties, their anxiety to redress historical wrongs,' and congratulates his readers that this feeling was not intensified by the remorse that their own forefathers had been the oppressors. luckily, says mr. mahaffy, the old greeks had conquered troy, and so the pangs of conscience which now so deeply afflict a gladstone and a morley for the sins of their ancestors could hardly affect a marcius or a quinctius! it is quite unnecessary to comment on the silliness and bad taste of passages of this kind, but it is interesting to note that the facts of history are too strong even for mr. mahaffy. in spite of his sneers at the provinciality of national feeling and his vague panegyrics on cosmopolitan culture, he is compelled to admit that 'however patriotism may be superseded in stray individuals by larger benevolence, bodies of men who abandon it will only replace it by meaner motives,' and cannot help expressing his regret that the better classes among the greek communities were so entirely devoid of public spirit that they squandered 'as idle absentees, or still idler residents, the time and means given them to benefit their country,' and failed to recognise their opportunity of founding a hellenic federal empire. even when he comes to deal with art, he cannot help admitting that the noblest sculpture of the time was that which expressed the spirit of the first great _national_ struggle, the repulse of the gallic hordes which overran greece in b.c., and that to the patriotic feeling evoked at this crisis we owe the belvedere apollo, the artemis of the vatican, the dying gaul, and the finest achievements of the perganene school. in literature, also, mr. mahaffy is loud in his lamentations over what he considers to be the shallow society tendencies of the new comedy, and misses the fine freedom of aristophanes, with his intense patriotism, his vital interest in politics, his large issues and his delight in vigorous national life. he confesses the decay of oratory under the blighting influences of imperialism, and the sterility of those pedantic disquisitions upon style which are the inevitable consequence of the lack of healthy subject-matter. indeed, on the last page of his history mr. mahaffy makes a formal recantation of most of his political prejudices. he is still of opinion that demosthenes should have been put to death for resisting the macedonian invasion, but admits that the imperialism of rome, which followed the imperialism of alexander, produced incalculable mischief, beginning with intellectual decay, and ending with financial ruin. 'the touch of rome,' he says, 'numbed greece and egypt, syria and asia minor, and if there are great buildings attesting the splendour of the empire, where are the signs of intellectual and moral vigour, if we except that stronghold of nationality, the little land of palestine?' this palinode is, no doubt, intended to give a plausible air of fairness to the book, but such a death-bed repentance comes too late, and makes the whole preceding history seem not fair but foolish. it is a relief to turn to the few chapters that deal directly with the social life and thought of the greeks. here mr. mahaffy is very pleasant reading indeed. his account of the colleges at athens and alexandria, for instance, is extremely interesting, and so is his estimate of the schools of zeno, of epicurus, and of pyrrho. excellent, too, in many points is the description of the literature and art of the period. we do not agree with mr. mahaffy in his panegyric of the laocoon, and we are surprised to find a writer, who is very indignant at what he considers to be the modern indifference to alexandrine poetry, gravely stating that no study is 'more wearisome and profitless' than that of the greek anthology. the criticism of the new comedy, also, seems to us somewhat pedantic. the aim of social comedy, in menander no less than in sheridan, is to mirror the manners, not to reform the morals, of its day, and the censure of the puritan, whether real or affected, is always out of place in literary criticism, and shows a want of recognition of the essential distinction between art and life. after all, it is only the philistine who thinks of blaming jack absolute for his deception, bob acres for his cowardice, and charles surface for his extravagance, and there is very little use in airing one's moral sense at the expense of one's artistic appreciation. valuable, also, though modernity of expression undoubtedly is, still it requires to be used with tact and judgment. there is no objection to mr. mahaffy's describing philopoemen as the garibaldi, and antigonus doson as the victor emmanuel of his age. such comparisons have, no doubt, a certain cheap popular value. but, on the other hand, a phrase like 'greek pre-raphaelitism' is rather awkward; not much is gained by dragging in an allusion to mr. shorthouse's john inglesant in a description of the argonautics of apollonius rhodius; and when we are told that the superb pavilion erected in alexandria by ptolemy philadelphus was a 'sort of glorified holborn restaurant,' we must say that the elaborate description of the building given in athenaeus could have been summed up in a better and a more intelligible epigram. on the whole, however, mr. mahaffy's book may have the effect of drawing attention to a very important and interesting period in the history of hellenism. we can only regret that, just as he has spoiled his account of greek politics by a foolish partisan bias, so he should have marred the value of some of his remarks on literature by a bias that is quite as unmeaning. it is uncouth and harsh to say that 'the superannuated schoolboy who holds fellowships and masterships at english colleges' knows nothing of the period in question except what he reads in theocritus, or that a man may be considered in england a distinguished greek professor 'who does not know a single date in greek history between the death of alexander and the battle of cynoscephalae'; and the statement that lucian, plutarch, and the four gospels are excluded from english school and college studies in consequence of the pedantry of 'pure scholars, as they are pleased to call themselves,' is, of course, quite inaccurate. in fact, not merely does mr. mahaffy miss the spirit of the true historian, but he often seems entirely devoid of the temper of the true man of letters. he is clever, and, at times, even brilliant, but he lacks reasonableness, moderation, style and charm. he seems to have no sense of literary proportion, and, as a rule, spoils his case by overstating it. with all his passion for imperialism, there is something about mr. mahaffy that is, if not parochial, at least provincial, and we cannot say that this last book of his will add anything to his reputation either as an historian, a critic, or a man of taste. greek life and thought: from the age of alexander to the roman conquest. by j. p. mahaffy, fellow of trinity college, dublin. (macmillan and co.) mr. morris's completion of the odyssey (pall mall gazette, november , .) mr. morris's second volume brings the great romantic epic of greek literature to its perfect conclusion, and although there can never be an ultimate translation of either iliad or odyssey, as each successive age is sure to find pleasure in rendering the two poems in its own manner and according to its own canons of taste, still it is not too much to say that mr. morris's version will always be a true classic amongst our classical translations. it is not, of course, flawless. in our notice of the first volume we ventured to say that mr. morris was sometimes far more norse than greek, nor does the volume that now lies before us make us alter that opinion. the particular metre, also, selected by mr. morris, although admirably adapted to express 'the strong-winged music of homer,' as far as its flow and freedom are concerned, misses something of its dignity and calm. here, it must be admitted, we feel a distinct loss, for there is in homer not a little of milton's lofty manner, and if swiftness be an essential of the greek hexameter, stateliness is one of its distinguishing qualities in homer's hands. this defect, however, if we must call it a defect, seems almost unavoidable, as for certain metrical reasons a majestic movement in english verse is necessarily a slow movement; and, after all that can be said is said, how really admirable is this whole translation! if we set aside its noble qualities as a poem and look on it purely from the scholar's point of view, how straightforward it is, how honest and direct! its fidelity to the original is far beyond that of any other verse-translation in our literature, and yet it is not the fidelity of a pedant to his text but rather the fine loyalty of poet to poet. when mr. morris's first volume appeared many of the critics complained that his occasional use of archaic words and unusual expressions robbed his version of the true homeric simplicity. this, however, is not a very felicitous criticism, for while homer is undoubtedly simple in his clearness and largeness of vision, his wonderful power of direct narration, his wholesome sanity, and the purity and precision of his method, simple in language he undoubtedly is not. what he was to his contemporaries we have, of course, no means of judging, but we know that the athenian of the fifth century b.c. found him in many places difficult to understand, and when the creative age was succeeded by the age of criticism and alexandria began to take the place of athens as the centre of culture for the hellenistic world, homeric dictionaries and glossaries seem to have been constantly published. indeed, athenaeus tells us of a wonderful byzantine blue-stocking, a precieuse from the propontis, who wrote a long hexameter poem, called mnemosyne, full of ingenious commentaries on difficulties in homer, and in fact, it is evident that, as far as the language is concerned, such a phrase as 'homeric simplicity' would have rather amazed an ancient greek. as for mr. morris's tendency to emphasise the etymological meaning of words, a point commented on with somewhat flippant severity in a recent number of macmillan's magazine, here mr. morris seems to us to be in complete accord, not merely with the spirit of homer, but with the spirit of all early poetry. it is quite true that language is apt to degenerate into a system of almost algebraic symbols, and the modern city-man who takes a ticket for blackfriars bridge, naturally never thinks of the dominican monks who once had their monastery by thames-side, and after whom the spot is named. but in earlier times it was not so. men were then keenly conscious of the real meaning of words, and early poetry, especially, is full of this feeling, and, indeed, may be said to owe to it no small portion of its poetic power and charm. these old words, then, and this old use of words which we find in mr. morris's odyssey can be amply justified upon historical grounds, and as for their artistic effect, it is quite excellent. pope tried to put homer into the ordinary language of his day, with what result we know only too well; but mr. morris, who uses his archaisms with the tact of a true artist, and to whom indeed they seem to come absolutely naturally, has succeeded in giving to his version by their aid that touch, not of 'quaintness,' for homer is never quaint, but of old-world romance and old-world beauty, which we moderns find so pleasurable, and to which the greeks themselves were so keenly sensitive. as for individual passages of special merit, mr. morris's translation is no robe of rags sewn with purple patches for critics to sample. its real value lies in the absolute rightness and coherence of the whole, in the grand architecture of the swift, strong verse, and in the fact that the standard is not merely high but everywhere sustained. it is impossible, however, to resist the temptation of quoting mr. morris's rendering of that famous passage in the twenty-third book of the epic, in which odysseus eludes the trap laid for him by penelope, whose very faith in the certainty of her husband's return makes her sceptical of his identity when he stands before her; an instance, by the way, of homer's wonderful psychological knowledge of human nature, as it is always the dreamer himself who is most surprised when his dream comes true. thus she spake to prove her husband; but odysseus, grieved at heart, spake thus unto his bed-mate well-skilled in gainful art: 'o woman, thou sayest a word exceeding grievous to me! who hath otherwhere shifted my bedstead? full hard for him should it be, for as deft as he were, unless soothly a very god come here, who easily, if he willed it, might shift it otherwhere. but no mortal man is living, how strong soe'er in his youth, who shall lightly hale it elsewhere, since a mighty wonder forsooth is wrought in that fashioned bedstead, and i wrought it, and i alone. in the close grew a thicket of olive, a long-leaved tree full-grown, that flourished and grew goodly as big as a pillar about, so round it i built my bride-room, till i did the work right out with ashlar stone close-fitting; and i roofed it overhead, and thereto joined doors i made me, well-fitting in their stead. then i lopped away the boughs of the long-leafed olive-tree, and shearing the bole from the root up full well and cunningly, i planed it about with the brass, and set the rule thereto, and shaping thereof a bed-post, with the wimble i bored it through. so beginning, i wrought out the bedstead, and finished it utterly, and with gold enwrought it about, and with silver and ivory, and stretched on it a thong of oxhide with the purple dye made bright. thus then the sign i have shown thee; nor, woman, know i aright if my bed yet bideth steadfast, or if to another place some man hath moved it, and smitten the olive-bole from its base.' these last twelve books of the odyssey have not the same marvel of romance, adventure and colour that we find in the earlier part of the epic. there is nothing in them that we can compare to the exquisite idyll of nausicaa or to the titanic humour of the episode in the cyclops' cave. penelope has not the glamour of circe, and the song of the sirens may sound sweeter than the whizz of the arrows of odysseus as he stands on the threshold of his hall. yet, for sheer intensity of passionate power, for concentration of intellectual interest and for masterly dramatic construction, these latter books are quite unequalled. indeed, they show very clearly how it was that, as greek art developed, the epos passed into the drama. the whole scheme of the argument, the return of the hero in disguise, his disclosure of himself to his son, his terrible vengeance on his enemies and his final recognition by his wife, reminds us of the plot of more than one greek play, and shows us what the great athenian poet meant when he said that his own dramas were merely scraps from homer's table. in rendering this splendid poem into english verse, mr. morris has done our literature a service that can hardly be over-estimated, and it is pleasant to think that, even should the classics be entirely excluded from our educational systems, the english boy will still be able to know something of homer's delightful tales, to catch an echo of his grand music and to wander with the wise odysseus round 'the shores of old romance.' the odyssey of homer. done into english verse by william morris, author of the earthly paradise. volume ii. (reeves and turner.) sir charles bowen's virgil (pall mall gazette, november , .) sir charles bowen's translation of the eclogues and the first six books of the aeneid is hardly the work of a poet, but it is a very charming version for all that, combining as it does the fine loyalty and learning of a scholar with the graceful style of a man of letters, two essential qualifications for any one who would render in english verse the picturesque pastorals of italian provincial life, or the stately and polished epic of imperial rome. dryden was a true poet, but, for some reason or other, he failed to catch the real virgilian spirit. his own qualities became defects when he accepted the task of a translator. he is too robust, too manly, too strong. he misses virgil's strange and subtle sweetness and has but little of his exquisite melody. professor conington, on the other hand, was an admirable and painstaking scholar, but he was so entirely devoid of literary tact and artistic insight that he thought that the majesty of virgil could be rendered in the jingling manner of marmion, and though there is certainly far more of the mediaeval knight than of the moss-trooper about aeneas, even mr. morris's version is not by any means perfect. compared with professor conington's bad ballad it is, of course, as gold to brass; considered simply as a poem it has noble and enduring qualities of beauty, music and strength; but it hardly conveys to us the sense that the aeneid is the literary epic of a literary age. there is more of homer in it than of virgil, and the ordinary reader would hardly realise from the flow and spirit of its swinging lines that virgil was a self-conscious artist, the laureate of a cultured court. the aeneid bears almost the same relation to the iliad that the idylls of the king do to the old celtic romances of arthur. like them it is full of felicitous modernisms, of exquisite literary echoes and of delicate and delightful pictures; as lord tennyson loves england so did virgil love rome; the pageants of history and the purple of empire are equally dear to both poets; but neither of them has the grand simplicity or the large humanity of the early singers, and, as a hero, aeneas is no less a failure than arthur. sir charles bowen's version hardly gives us this peculiar literary quality of virgil's verse, and, now and then, it reminds us, by some awkward inversion, of the fact that it is a translation; still, on the whole, it is extremely pleasant to read, and, if it does not absolutely mirror virgil, it at least brings us many charming memories of him. the metre sir charles bowen has selected is a form of english hexameter, with the final dissyllable shortened into a foot of a single syllable only. it is, of course, accentual not quantitative, and though it misses that element of sustained strength which is given by the dissyllabic ending of the latin verse, and has consequently a tendency to fall into couplets, the increased facility of rhyming gained by the change is of no small value. to any english metre that aims at swiftness of movement rhyme seems to be an absolute essential, and there are not enough double rhymes in our language to admit of the retention of this final dissyllabic foot. as an example of sir charles bowen's method we would take his rendering of the famous passage in the fifth eclogue on the death of daphnis: all of the nymphs went weeping for daphnis cruelly slain: ye were witnesses, hazels and river waves, of the pain when to her son's sad body the mother clave with a cry, calling the great gods cruel, and cruel the stars of the sky. none upon those dark days their pastured oxen did lead, daphnis, to drink of the cold clear rivulet; never a steed tasted the flowing waters, or cropped one blade in the mead. over thy grave how the lions of carthage roared in despair, daphnis, the echoes of mountain wild and of forest declare. daphnis was first who taught us to guide, with a chariot rein, far armenia's tigers, the chorus of iacchus to train, led us with foliage waving the pliant spear to entwine. as to the tree her vine is a glory, her grapes to the vine, bull to the horned herd, and the corn to a fruitful plain, thou to thine own wert beauty; and since fate robbed us of thee, pales herself, and apollo are gone from meadow and lea. 'calling the great gods cruel, and cruel the stars of the sky' is a very felicitous rendering of 'atque deos atque astra vocat crudelia mater,' and so is 'thou to thine own wert beauty' for 'tu decus omne tuis.' this passage, too, from the fourth book of the aeneid is good: now was the night. tired limbs upon earth were folded to sleep, silent the forests and fierce sea-waves; in the firmament deep midway rolled heaven's stars; no sound on the meadow stirred; every beast of the field, each bright-hued feathery bird haunting the limpid lakes, or the tangled briary glade, under the silent night in sleep were peacefully laid: all but the grieving queen. she yields her never to rest, takes not the quiet night to her eyelids or wearied breast. and this from the sixth book is worth quoting: 'never again such hopes shall a youth of the lineage of troy rouse in his great forefathers of latium! never a boy nobler pride shall inspire in the ancient romulus land! ah, for his filial love! for his old-world faith! for his hand matchless in battle! unharmed what foemen had offered to stand forth in his path, when charging on foot for the enemy's ranks or when plunging the spur in his foam-flecked courser's flanks! child of a nation's sorrow! if thou canst baffle the fates' bitter decrees, and break for a while their barrier gates, thine to become marcellus! i pray thee bring me anon handfuls of lilies, that i bright flowers may strew on my son, heap on the shade of the boy unborn these gifts at the least, doing the dead, though vainly, the last sad service.' he ceased. 'thine to become marcellus' has hardly the simple pathos of 'tu marcellus eris,' but 'child of a nation's sorrow' is a graceful rendering of 'heu, miserande puer.' indeed, there is a great deal of feeling in the whole translation, and the tendency of the metre to run into couplets, of which we have spoken before, is corrected to a certain degree in the passage quoted above from the eclogues by the occasional use of the triplet, as, elsewhere, by the introduction of alternate, not successive, rhymes. sir charles bowen is to be congratulated on the success of his version. it has both style and fidelity to recommend it. the metre he has chosen seems to us more suited to the sustained majesty of the aeneid than it is to the pastoral note of the eclogues. it can bring us something of the strength of the lyre but has hardly caught the sweetness of the pipe. still, it is in many points a very charming translation, and we gladly welcome it as a most valuable addition to the literature of echoes. virgil in english verse. eclogues and aeneid i.-vi. by the right hon. sir charles bowen, one of her majesty's lords justices of appeal. (john murray.) literary and other notes--ii (woman's world, december .) lady bellairs's gossips with girls and maidens contains some very interesting essays, and a quite extraordinary amount of useful information on all matters connected with the mental and physical training of women. it is very difficult to give good advice without being irritating, and almost impossible to be at once didactic and delightful; but lady bellairs manages very cleverly to steer a middle course between the charybdis of dulness and the scylla of flippancy. there is a pleasing intimite about her style, and almost everything that she says has both good sense and good humour to recommend it. nor does she confine herself to those broad generalisations on morals, which are so easy to make, so difficult to apply. indeed, she seems to have a wholesome contempt for the cheap severity of abstract ethics, enters into the most minute details for the guidance of conduct, and draws out elaborate lists of what girls should avoid, and what they should cultivate. here are some specimens of 'what to avoid':-- a loud, weak, affected, whining, harsh, or shrill tone of voice. extravagancies in conversation--such phrases as 'awfully this,' 'beastly that,' 'loads of time,' 'don't you know,' 'hate' for 'dislike,' etc. sudden exclamations of annoyance, surprise, or joy--often dangerously approaching to 'female swearing'--as 'bother!' 'gracious!' 'how jolly!' yawning when listening to any one. talking on family matters, even to your bosom friends. attempting any vocal or instrumental piece of music that you cannot execute with ease. crossing your letters. making a short, sharp nod with the head, intended to do duty for a bow. all nonsense in the shape of belief in dreams, omens, presentiments, ghosts, spiritualism, palmistry, etc. entertaining wild flights of the imagination, or empty idealistic aspirations. i am afraid that i have a good deal of sympathy with what are called 'empty idealistic aspirations'; and 'wild flights of the imagination' are so extremely rare in the nineteenth century that they seem to me deserving rather of praise than of censure. the exclamation 'bother!' also, though certainly lacking in beauty, might, i think, be permitted under circumstances of extreme aggravation, such as, for instance, the rejection of a manuscript by the editor of a magazine; but in all other respects the list seems to be quite excellent. as for 'what to cultivate,' nothing could be better than the following: an unaffected, low, distinct, silver-toned voice. the art of pleasing those around you, and seeming pleased with them, and all they may do for you. the charm of making little sacrifices quite naturally, as if of no account to yourself. the habit of making allowances for the opinions, feelings, or prejudices of others. an erect carriage--that is, a sound body. a good memory for faces, and facts connected with them--thus avoiding giving offence through not recognising or bowing to people, or saying to them what had best been left unsaid. the art of listening without impatience to prosy talkers, and smiling at the twice-told tale or joke. i cannot help thinking that the last aphorism aims at too high a standard. there is always a certain amount of danger in any attempt to cultivate impossible virtues. however, it is only fair to add that lady bellairs recognises the importance of self-development quite as much as the importance of self-denial; and there is a great deal of sound sense in everything that she says about the gradual growth and formation of character. indeed, those who have not read aristotle upon this point might with advantage read lady bellairs. miss constance naden's little volume, a modern apostle and other poems, shows both culture and courage--culture in its use of language, courage in its selection of subject-matter. the modern apostle of whom miss naden sings is a young clergyman who preaches pantheistic socialism in the free church of some provincial manufacturing town, converts everybody, except the woman whom he loves, and is killed in a street riot. the story is exceedingly powerful, but seems more suitable for prose than for verse. it is right that a poet should be full of the spirit of his age, but the external forms of modern life are hardly, as yet, expressive of that spirit. they are truths of fact, not truths of the imagination, and though they may give the poet an opportunity for realism, they often rob the poem of the reality that is so essential to it. art, however, is a matter of result, not of theory, and if the fruit is pleasant, we should not quarrel about the tree. miss naden's work is distinguished by rich imagery, fine colour, and sweet music, and these are things for which we should be grateful, wherever we find them. in point of mere technical skill, her longer poems are the best; but some of the shorter poems are very fascinating. this, for instance, is pretty: the copyist group was gathered round a time-worn fresco, world-renowned, whose central glory once had been the face of christ, the nazarene. and every copyist of the crowd with his own soul that face endowed, gentle, severe, majestic, mean; but which was christ, the nazarene? then one who watched them made complaint, and marvelled, saying, 'wherefore paint till ye be sure your eyes have seen the face of christ, the nazarene?' and this sonnet is full of suggestion: the wine-flushed monarch slept, but in his ear an angel breathed--'repent, or choose the flame quenchless.' in dread he woke, but not in shame, deep musing--'sin i love, yet hell i fear.' wherefore he left his feasts and minions dear, and justly ruled, and died a saint in name. but when his hasting spirit heavenward came, a stern voice cried--'o soul! what dost thou here?' 'love i forswore, and wine, and kept my vow to live a just and joyless life, and now i crave reward.' the voice came like a knell-- 'fool! dost thou hope to find again thy mirth, and those foul joys thou didst renounce on earth? yea, enter in! my heaven shall be thy hell.' miss constance naden deserves a high place among our living poetesses, and this, as mrs. sharp has shown lately in her volume, entitled women's voices, is no mean distinction. phyllis browne's life of mrs. somerville forms part of a very interesting little series, called 'the world's workers'--a collection of short biographies catholic enough to include personalities so widely different as turner and richard cobden, handel and sir titus salt, robert stephenson and florence nightingale, and yet possessing a certain definite aim. as a mathematician and a scientist, the translator and populariser of la mecanique celeste, and the author of an important book on physical geography, mrs. somerville is, of course, well known. the scientific bodies of europe covered her with honours; her bust stands in the hall of the royal society, and one of the women's colleges at oxford bears her name. yet, considered simply in the light of a wife and a mother, she is no less admirable; and those who consider that stupidity is the proper basis for the domestic virtues, and that intellectual women must of necessity be helpless with their hands, cannot do better than read phyllis browne's pleasant little book, in which they will find that the greatest woman-mathematician of any age was a clever needlewoman, a good housekeeper, and a most skilful cook. indeed, mrs. somerville seems to have been quite renowned for her cookery. the discoverers of the north-west passage christened an island 'somerville,' not as a tribute to the distinguished mathematician, but as a recognition of the excellence of some orange marmalade which the distinguished mathematician had prepared with her own hands and presented to the ships before they left england; and to the fact that she was able to make currant jelly at a very critical moment she owed the affection of some of her husband's relatives, who up to that time had been rather prejudiced against her on the ground that she was merely an unpractical blue-stocking. nor did her scientific knowledge ever warp or dull the tenderness and humanity of her nature. for birds and animals she had always a great love. we hear of her as a little girl watching with eager eyes the swallows as they built their nests in summer or prepared for their flight in the autumn; and when snow was on the ground she used to open the windows to let the robins hop in and pick crumbs on the breakfast-table. on one occasion she went with her father on a tour in the highlands, and found on her return that a pet goldfinch, which had been left in the charge of the servants, had been neglected by them and had died of starvation. she was almost heart-broken at the event, and in writing her recollections, seventy years after, she mentioned it and said that, as she wrote, she felt deep pain. her chief pet in her old age was a mountain sparrow, which used to perch on her arm and go to sleep there while she was writing. one day the sparrow fell into the water-jug and was drowned, to the great grief of its mistress who could hardly be consoled for its loss, though later on we hear of a beautiful paroquet taking the place of le moineau d'uranie, and becoming mrs. somerville's constant companion. she was also very energetic, phyllis browne tells us, in trying to get a law passed in the italian parliament for the protection of animals, and said once, with reference to this subject, 'we english cannot boast of humanity so long as our sportsmen find pleasure in shooting down tame pigeons as they fly terrified out of a cage'--a remark with which i entirely agree. mr. herbert's bill for the protection of land birds gave her immense pleasure, though, to quote her own words, she was 'grieved to find that "the lark, which at heaven's gate sings," is thought unworthy of man's protection'; and she took a great fancy to a gentleman who, on being told of the number of singing birds that is eaten in italy--nightingales, goldfinches, and robins--exclaimed in horror, 'what! robins! our household birds! i would as soon eat a child!' indeed, she believed to some extent in the immortality of animals on the ground that, if animals have no future, it would seem as if some were created for uncompensated misery--an idea which does not seem to me to be either extravagant or fantastic, though it must be admitted that the optimism on which it is based receives absolutely no support from science. on the whole, phyllis browne's book is very pleasant reading. its only fault is that it is far too short, and this is a fault so rare in modern literature that it almost amounts to a distinction. however, phyllis browne has managed to crowd into the narrow limits at her disposal a great many interesting anecdotes. the picture she gives of mrs. somerville working away at her translation of laplace in the same room with her children is very charming, and reminds one of what is told of george sand; there is an amusing account of mrs. somerville's visit to the widow of the young pretender, the countess of albany, who, after talking with her for some time, exclaimed, 'so you don't speak italian. you must have had a very bad education'! and this story about the waverley novels may possibly be new to some of my readers: a very amusing circumstance in connection with mrs. somerville's acquaintance with sir walter arose out of the childish inquisitiveness of woronzow greig, mrs. somerville's little boy. during the time mrs. somerville was visiting abbotsford the waverley novels were appearing, and were creating a great sensation; yet even scott's intimate friends did not know that he was the author; he enjoyed keeping the affair a mystery. but little woronzow discovered what he was about. one day when mrs. somerville was talking about a novel that had just been published, woronzow said, 'i knew all these stories long ago, for mr. scott writes on the dinner-table; when he has finished he puts the green cloth with the papers in a corner of the dining-room, and when he goes out charlie scott and i read the stories.' phyllis browne remarks that this incident shows 'that persons who want to keep a secret ought to be very careful when children are about'; but the story seems to me to be far too charming to require any moral of the kind. bound up in the same volume is a life of miss mary carpenter, also written by phyllis browne. miss carpenter does not seem to me to have the charm and fascination of mrs. somerville. there is always something about her that is formal, limited, and precise. when she was about two years old she insisted on being called 'doctor carpenter' in the nursery; at the age of twelve she is described by a friend as a sedate little girl, who always spoke like a book; and before she entered on her educational schemes she wrote down a solemn dedication of herself to the service of humanity. however, she was one of the practical, hardworking saints of the nineteenth century, and it is no doubt quite right that the saints should take themselves very seriously. it is only fair also to remember that her work of rescue and reformation was carried on under great difficulties. here, for instance, is the picture miss cobbe gives us of one of the bristol night-schools: it was a wonderful spectacle to see mary carpenter sitting patiently before the large school gallery in st. james's back, teaching, singing, and praying with the wild street-boys, in spite of endless interruptions caused by such proceedings as shooting marbles at any object behind her, whistling, stamping, fighting, shrieking out 'amen' in the middle of a prayer, and sometimes rising en masse and tearing like a troop of bisons in hob-nailed shoes down from the gallery, round the great schoolroom, and down the stairs, and into the street. these irrepressible outbreaks she bore with infinite good humour. her own account is somewhat pleasanter, and shows that 'the troop of bisons in hob-nailed shoes' was not always so barbarous. i had taken to my class on the preceding week some specimens of ferns neatly gummed on white paper. . . . this time i took a piece of coal- shale, with impressions of ferns, to show them. . . . i told each to examine the specimen, and tell me what he thought it was. w. gave so bright a smile that i saw he knew; none of the others could tell; he said they were ferns, like what i showed them last week, but he thought they were chiselled on the stone. their surprise and pleasure were great when i explained the matter to them. the history of joseph: they all found a difficulty in realising that this had actually occurred. one asked if egypt existed now, and if people lived in it. when i told them that buildings now stood which had been erected about the time of joseph, one said that it was impossible, as they must have fallen down ere this. i showed them the form of a pyramid, and they were satisfied. one asked if _all_ books were true. the story of macbeth impressed them very much. they knew the name of shakespeare, having seen his name over a public-house. a boy defined conscience as 'a thing a gentleman hasn't got, who, when a boy finds his purse and gives it back to him, doesn't give the boy sixpence.' another boy was asked, after a sunday evening lecture on 'thankfulness,' what pleasure he enjoyed most in the course of a year. he replied candidly, 'cock-fightin', ma'am; there's a pit up by the "black boy" as is worth anythink in brissel.' there is something a little pathetic in the attempt to civilise the rough street-boy by means of the refining influence of ferns and fossils, and it is difficult to help feeling that miss carpenter rather overestimated the value of elementary education. the poor are not to be fed upon facts. even shakespeare and the pyramids are not sufficient; nor is there much use in giving them the results of culture, unless we also give them those conditions under which culture can be realised. in these cold, crowded cities of the north, the proper basis for morals, using the word in its wide hellenic signification, is to be found in architecture, not in books. still, it would be ungenerous not to recognise that mary carpenter gave to the children of the poor not merely her learning, but her love. in early life, her biographer tells us, she had longed for the happiness of being a wife and a mother; but later she became content that her affection could be freely given to all who needed it, and the verse in the prophecies, 'i have given thee children whom thou hast not borne,' seemed to her to indicate what was to be her true mission. indeed, she rather inclined to bacon's opinion, that unmarried people do the best public work. 'it is quite striking,' she says in one of her letters, 'to observe how much the useful power and influence of woman has developed of late years. unattached ladies, such as widows and unmarried women, have quite ample work to do in the world for the good of others to absorb all their powers. wives and mothers have a very noble work given them by god, and want no more.' the whole passage is extremely interesting, and the phrase 'unattached ladies' is quite delightful, and reminds one of charles lamb. * * * * * ismay's children is by the clever authoress of that wonderful little story flitters, tatters, and the counsellor, a story which delighted the realists by its truth, fascinated mr. ruskin by its beauty, and remains to the present day the most perfect picture of street-arab life in all english prose fiction. the scene of the novel is laid in the south of ireland, and the plot is extremely dramatic and ingenious. godfrey mauleverer, a reckless young irishman, runs away with ismay d'arcy, a pretty, penniless governess, and is privately married to her in scotland. some time after the birth of her third child, ismay died, and her husband, who had never made his marriage public, nor taken any pains to establish the legitimacy of his children, is drowned while yachting off the coast of france. the care of ismay's children then devolves on an old aunt, miss juliet d'arcy, who brings them back to ireland to claim their inheritance for them. but a sudden stroke of paralysis deprives her of her memory, and she forgets the name of the little scotch village in which ismay's informal marriage took place. so tighe o'malley holds barrettstown, and ismay's children live in an old mill close to the great park of which they are the rightful heirs. the boy, who is called godfrey after his father, is a fascinating study, with his swarthy foreign beauty, his fierce moods of love and hate, his passionate pride, and his passionate tenderness. the account of his midnight ride to warn his enemy of an impending attack of moonlighters is most powerful and spirited; and it is pleasant to meet in modern fiction a character that has all the fine inconsistencies of life, and is neither too fantastic an exception to be true, nor too ordinary a type to be common. excellent also, in its direct simplicity of rendering, is the picture of miss juliet d'arcy; and the scene in which, at the moment of her death, the old woman's memory returns to her is quite admirable, both in conception and in treatment. to me, however, the chief interest of the book lies in the little lifelike sketches of irish character with which it abounds. modern realistic art has not yet produced a hamlet, but at least it may claim to have studied guildenstern and rosencrantz very closely; and, for pure fidelity and truth to nature, nothing could be better than the minor characters in ismay's children. here we have the kindly old priest who arranges all the marriages in his parish, and has a strong objection to people who insist on making long confessions; the important young curate fresh from maynooth, who gives himself more airs than a bishop, and has to be kept in order; the professional beggars, with their devout faith, their grotesque humour, and their incorrigible laziness; the shrewd shopkeeper, who imports arms in flour-barrels for the use of the moonlighters and, as soon as he has got rid of them, gives information of their whereabouts to the police; the young men who go out at night to be drilled by an irish-american; the farmers with their wild land-hunger, bidding secretly against each other for every vacant field; the dispensary doctor, who is always regretting that he has not got a trinity college degree; the plain girls, who want to go into convents; the pretty girls, who want to get married; and the shopkeepers' daughters, who want to be thought young ladies. there is a whole pell-mell of men and women, a complete panorama of provincial life, an absolutely faithful picture of the peasant in his own home. this note of realism in dealing with national types of character has always been a distinguishing characteristic of irish fiction, from the days of miss edgeworth down to our own days, and it is not difficult to see in ismay's children some traces of the influence of castle rack-rent. i fear, however, that few people read miss edgeworth nowadays, though both scott and tourgenieff acknowledged their indebtedness to her novels, and her style is always admirable in its clearness and precision. * * * * * miss leffler-arnim's statement, in a lecture delivered recently at st. saviour's hospital, that 'she had heard of instances where ladies were so determined not to exceed the fashionable measurement that they had actually held on to a cross-bar while their maids fastened the fifteen- inch corset,' has excited a good deal of incredulity, but there is nothing really improbable in it. from the sixteenth century to our own day there is hardly any form of torture that has not been inflicted on girls, and endured by women, in obedience to the dictates of an unreasonable and monstrous fashion. 'in order to obtain a real spanish figure,' says montaigne, 'what a gehenna of suffering will not women endure, drawn in and compressed by great coches entering the flesh; nay, sometimes they even die thereof.' 'a few days after my arrival at school,' mrs. somerville tells us in her memoirs, 'although perfectly straight and well made, i was enclosed in stiff stays, with a steel busk in front; while above my frock, bands drew my shoulders back till the shoulder-blades met. then a steel rod with a semicircle, which went under my chin, was clasped to the steel busk in my stays. in this constrained state i and most of the younger girls had to prepare our lessons'; and in the life of miss edgeworth we read that, being sent to a certain fashionable establishment, 'she underwent all the usual tortures of back-boards, iron collars and dumbs, and also (because she was a very tiny person) the unusual one of being hung by the neck to draw out the muscles and increase the growth,' a signal failure in her case. indeed, instances of absolute mutilation and misery are so common in the past that it is unnecessary to multiply them; but it is really sad to think that in our own day a civilised woman can hang on to a cross-bar while her maid laces her waist into a fifteen-inch circle. to begin with, the waist is not a circle at all, but an oval; nor can there be any greater error than to imagine that an unnaturally small waist gives an air of grace, or even of slightness; to the whole figure. its effect, as a rule, is simply to exaggerate the width of the shoulders and the hips; and those whose figures possess that stateliness which is called stoutness by the vulgar, convert what is a quality into a defect by yielding to the silly edicts of fashion on the subject of tight-lacing. the fashionable english waist, also, is not merely far too small, and consequently quite out of proportion to the rest of the figure, but it is worn far too low down. i use the expression 'worn' advisedly, for a waist nowadays seems to be regarded as an article of apparel to be put on when and where one likes. a long waist always implies shortness of the lower limbs, and, from the artistic point of view, has the effect of diminishing the height; and i am glad to see that many of the most charming women in paris are returning to the idea of the directoire style of dress. this style is not by any means perfect, but at least it has the merit of indicating the proper position of the waist. i feel quite sure that all english women of culture and position will set their faces against such stupid and dangerous practices as are related by miss leffler-arnim. fashion's motto is: il faut souffrir pour etre belle; but the motto of art and of common-sense is: il faut etre bete pour souffrir. * * * * * talking of fashion, a critic in the pall mall gazette expresses his surprise that i should have allowed an illustration of a hat, covered with 'the bodies of dead birds,' to appear in the first number of the woman's world; and as i have received many letters on the subject, it is only right that i should state my exact position in the matter. fashion is such an essential part of the mundus muliebris of our day, that it seems to me absolutely necessary that its growth, development, and phases should be duly chronicled; and the historical and practical value of such a record depends entirely upon its perfect fidelity to fact. besides, it is quite easy for the children of light to adapt almost any fashionable form of dress to the requirements of utility and the demands of good taste. the sarah bernhardt tea-gown, for instance, figured in the present issue, has many good points about it, and the gigantic dress-improver does not appear to me to be really essential to the mode; and though the postillion costume of the fancy dress ball is absolutely detestable in its silliness and vulgarity, the so-called late georgian costume in the same plate is rather pleasing. i must, however, protest against the idea that to chronicle the development of fashion implies any approval of the particular forms that fashion may adopt. * * * * * mrs. craik's article on the condition of the english stage will, i feel sure, be read with great interest by all who are watching the development of dramatic art in this country. it was the last thing written by the author of john halifax, gentleman, and reached me only a few days before her lamented death. that the state of things is such as mrs. craik describes, few will be inclined to deny; though, for my own part, i must acknowledge that i see more vulgarity than vice in the tendencies of the modern stage; nor do i think it possible to elevate dramatic art by limiting its subject-matter. on tue une litterature quand on lui interdit la verite humaine. as far as the serious presentation of life is concerned, what we require is more imaginative treatment, greater freedom from theatric language and theatric convention. it may be questioned, also, whether the consistent reward of virtue and punishment of wickedness be really the healthiest ideal for an art that claims to mirror nature. however, it is impossible not to recognise the fine feeling that actuates every line of mrs. craik's article; and though one may venture to disagree with the proposed method, one cannot but sympathise with the purity and delicacy of the thought, and the high nobility of the aim. * * * * * the french minister of education, m. spuller, has paid racine a very graceful and appropriate compliment, in naming after him the second college that has been opened in paris for the higher education of girls. racine was one of the privileged few who was allowed to read the celebrated traite de l'education des filles before it appeared in print; he was charged, along with boileau, with the task of revising the text of the constitution and rules of madame de maintenon's great college; it was for the demoiselles de st. cyr that he composed athalie; and he devoted a great deal of his time to the education of his own children. the lycee racine will, no doubt, become as important an institution as the lycee fenelon, and the speech delivered by m. spuller on the occasion of its opening was full of the happiest augury for the future. m. spuller dwelt at great length on the value of goethe's aphorism, that the test of a good wife is her capacity to take her husband's place and to become a father to his children, and mentioned that the thing that struck him most in america was the wonderful brooklyn bridge, a superb titanic structure, which was completed under the direction of the engineer's wife, the engineer himself having died while the building of the bridge was in progress. 'il me semble,' said m. spuller, 'que la femme de l'ingenieur du pont de brooklyn a realise la pensee de goethe, et que non seulement elle est devenue un pere pour ses enfants, mais un autre pere pour l'oeuvre admirable, vraiment unique, qui a immortalise le nom qu'elle portait avec son mari.' m. spuller also laid great stress on the necessity of a thoroughly practical education, and was extremely severe on the 'blue-stockings' of literature. 'il ne s'agit pas de former ici des "femmes savantes." les "femmes savantes" ont ete marquees pour jamais par un des plus grands genies de notre race d'une legere teinte de ridicule. non, ce n'est pas des femmes savantes que nous voulons: ce sont tout simplement des femmes: des femmes dignes de ce pays de france, qui est la patrie du bons sens, de la mesure, et de la grace; des femmes ayant la notion juste et le sens exquis du role qui doit leur appartenir dans la societe moderne.' there is, no doubt, a great deal of truth in m. spuller's observations, but we must not mistake a caricature for the reality. after all, les precieuses ridicules contrasted very favourably with the ordinary type of womanhood of their day, not merely in france, but also in england; and an uncritical love of sonnets is preferable, on the whole, to coarseness, vulgarity and ignorance. * * * * * i am glad to see that miss ramsay's brilliant success at cambridge is not destined to remain an isolated instance of what women can do in intellectual competitions with men. at the royal university in ireland, the literature scholarship of pounds a year for five years has been won by miss story, the daughter of a north of ireland clergyman. it is pleasant to be able to chronicle an item of irish news that has nothing to do with the violence of party politics or party feeling, and that shows how worthy women are of that higher culture and education which has been so tardily and, in some instances, so grudgingly granted to them. * * * * * the empress of japan has been ordering a whole wardrobe of fashionable dresses in paris for her own use and the use of her ladies-in-waiting. the chrysanthemum (the imperial flower of japan) has suggested the tints of most of the empress's own gowns, and in accordance with the colour- schemes of other flowers the rest of the costumes have been designed. the same steamer, however, that carries out the masterpieces of m. worth and m. felix to the land of the rising sun, also brings to the empress a letter of formal and respectful remonstrance from the english rational dress society. i trust that, even if the empress rejects the sensible arguments of this important society, her own artistic feeling may induce her to reconsider her resolution to abandon eastern for western costume. * * * * * i hope that some of my readers will interest themselves in the ministering children's league for which mr. walter crane has done the beautiful and suggestive design of the young knight. the best way to make children good is to make them happy, and happiness seems to me an essential part of lady meath's admirable scheme. ( ) gossips with girls and maidens betrothed and free. by lady bellairs. (blackwood and sons.) ( ) a modern apostle and other poems. by constance naden. (kegan paul.) ( ) mrs. somerville and mary carpenter. by phyllis browne, author of what girls can do, etc. (cassell and co.) ( ) ismay's children. by the author of hogan, m.p.; flitters, tatters, and the counsellor, etc. (macmillan and co.) aristotle at afternoon tea (pall mall gazette, december , .) in society, says mr. mahaffy, every civilised man and woman ought to feel it their duty to say something, even when there is hardly anything to be said, and, in order to encourage this delightful art of brilliant chatter, he has published a social guide without which no debutante or dandy should ever dream of going out to dine. not that mr. mahaffy's book can be said to be, in any sense of the word, popular. in discussing this important subject of conversation, he has not merely followed the scientific method of aristotle which is, perhaps, excusable, but he has adopted the literary style of aristotle for which no excuse is possible. there is, also, hardly a single anecdote, hardly a single illustration, and the reader is left to put the professor's abstract rules into practice, without either the examples or the warnings of history to encourage or to dissuade him in his reckless career. still, the book can be warmly recommended to all who propose to substitute the vice of verbosity for the stupidity of silence. it fascinates in spite of its form and pleases in spite of its pedantry, and is the nearest approach, that we know of, in modern literature to meeting aristotle at an afternoon tea. as regards physical conditions, the only one that is considered by mr. mahaffy as being absolutely essential to a good conversationalist, is the possession of a musical voice. some learned writers have been of opinion that a slight stammer often gives peculiar zest to conversation, but mr. mahaffy rejects this view and is extremely severe on every eccentricity from a native brogue to an artificial catchword. with his remarks on the latter point, the meaningless repetition of phrases, we entirely agree. nothing can be more irritating than the scientific person who is always saying '_exactly_ so,' or the commonplace person who ends every sentence with '_don't you know_?' or the pseudo-artistic person who murmurs '_charming, charming_,' on the smallest provocation. it is, however, with the mental and moral qualifications for conversation that mr. mahaffy specially deals. knowledge he, naturally, regards as an absolute essential, for, as he most justly observes, 'an ignorant man is seldom agreeable, except as a butt.' upon the other hand, strict accuracy should be avoided. 'even a consummate liar,' says mr. mahaffy, is a better ingredient in a company than 'the scrupulously truthful man, who weighs every statement, questions every fact, and corrects every inaccuracy.' the liar at any rate recognises that recreation, not instruction, is the aim of conversation, and is a far more civilised being than the blockhead who loudly expresses his disbelief in a story which is told simply for the amusement of the company. mr. mahaffy, however, makes an exception in favour of the eminent specialist and tells us that intelligent questions addressed to an astronomer, or a pure mathematician, will elicit many curious facts which will pleasantly beguile the time. here, in the interest of society, we feel bound to enter a formal protest. nobody, even in the provinces, should ever be allowed to ask an intelligent question about pure mathematics across a dinner-table. a question of this kind is quite as bad as inquiring suddenly about the state of a man's soul, a sort of coup which, as mr. mahaffy remarks elsewhere, 'many pious people have actually thought a decent introduction to a conversation.' as for the moral qualifications of a good talker, mr. mahaffy, following the example of his great master, warns us against any disproportionate excess of virtue. modesty, for instance, may easily become a social vice, and to be continually apologising for one's ignorance or stupidity is a grave injury to conversation, for, 'what we want to learn from each member is his free opinion on the subject in hand, not his own estimate of the value of that opinion.' simplicity, too, is not without its dangers. the enfant terrible, with his shameless love of truth, the raw country-bred girl who always says what she means, and the plain, blunt man who makes a point of speaking his mind on every possible occasion, without ever considering whether he has a mind at all, are the fatal examples of what simplicity leads to. shyness may be a form of vanity, and reserve a development of pride, and as for sympathy, what can be more detestable than the man, or woman, who insists on agreeing with everybody, and so makes 'a discussion, which implies differences in opinion,' absolutely impossible? even the unselfish listener is apt to become a bore. 'these silent people,' says mr. mahaffy, 'not only take all they can get in society for nothing, but they take it without the smallest gratitude, and have the audacity afterwards to censure those who have laboured for their amusement.' tact, which is an exquisite sense of the symmetry of things, is, according to mr. mahaffy, the highest and best of all the moral conditions for conversation. the man of tact, he most wisely remarks, 'will instinctively avoid jokes about blue beard' in the company of a woman who is a man's third wife; he will never be guilty of talking like a book, but will rather avoid too careful an attention to grammar and the rounding of periods; he will cultivate the art of graceful interruption, so as to prevent a subject being worn threadbare by the aged or the inexperienced; and should he be desirous of telling a story, he will look round and consider each member of the party, and if there be a single stranger present will forgo the pleasure of anecdotage rather than make the social mistake of hurting even one of the guests. as for prepared or premeditated art, mr. mahaffy has a great contempt for it and tells us of a certain college don (let us hope not at oxford or cambridge) who always carried a jest-book in his pocket and had to refer to it when he wished to make a repartee. great wits, too, are often very cruel, and great humourists often very vulgar, so it will be better to try and 'make good conversation without any large help from these brilliant but dangerous gifts.' in a tete-a-tete one should talk about persons, and in general society about things. the state of the weather is always an excusable exordium, but it is convenient to have a paradox or heresy on the subject always ready so as to direct the conversation into other channels. really domestic people are almost invariably bad talkers as their very virtues in home life have dulled their interest in outer things. the very best mothers will insist on chattering of their babies and prattling about infant education. in fact, most women do not take sufficient interest in politics, just as most men are deficient in general reading. still, anybody can be made to talk, except the very obstinate, and even a commercial traveller may be drawn out and become quite interesting. as for society small talk, it is impossible, mr. mahaffy tells us, for any sound theory of conversation to depreciate gossip, 'which is perhaps the main factor in agreeable talk throughout society.' the retailing of small personal points about great people always gives pleasure, and if one is not fortunate enough to be an arctic traveller or an escaped nihilist, the best thing one can do is to relate some anecdote of 'prince bismarck, or king victor emmanuel, or mr. gladstone.' in the case of meeting a genius and a duke at dinner, the good talker will try to raise himself to the level of the former and to bring the latter down to his own level. to succeed among one's social superiors one must have no hesitation in contradicting them. indeed, one should make bold criticisms and introduce a bright and free tone into a society whose grandeur and extreme respectability make it, mr. mahaffy remarks, as pathetically as inaccurately, 'perhaps somewhat dull.' the best conversationalists are those whose ancestors have been bilingual, like the french and irish, but the art of conversation is really within the reach of almost every one, except those who are morbidly truthful, or whose high moral worth requires to be sustained by a permanent gravity of demeanour and a general dulness of mind. these are the broad principles contained in mr. mahaffy's clever little book, and many of them will, no doubt, commend themselves to our readers. the maxim, 'if you find the company dull, blame yourself,' seems to us somewhat optimistic, and we have no sympathy at all with the professional story-teller who is really a great bore at a dinner-table; but mr. mahaffy is quite right in insisting that no bright social intercourse is possible without equality, and it is no objection to his book to say that it will not teach people how to talk cleverly. it is not logic that makes men reasonable, nor the science of ethics that makes men good, but it is always useful to analyse, to formularise and to investigate. the only thing to be regretted in the volume is the arid and jejune character of the style. if mr. mahaffy would only write as he talks, his book would be much pleasanter reading. the principles of the art of conversation: a social essay. by j. p. mahaffy. (macmillan and co.) early christian art in ireland (pall mall gazette, december , .) the want of a good series of popular handbooks on irish art has long been felt, the works of sir william wilde, petrie and others being somewhat too elaborate for the ordinary student; so we are glad to notice the appearance, under the auspices of the committee of council on education, of miss margaret stokes's useful little volume on the early christian art of her country. there is, of course, nothing particularly original in miss stokes's book, nor can she be said to be a very attractive or pleasing writer, but it is unfair to look for originality in primers, and the charm of the illustrations fully atones for the somewhat heavy and pedantic character of the style. this early christian art of ireland is full of interest to the artist, the archaeologist and the historian. in its rudest forms, such as the little iron hand-bell, the plain stone chalice and the rough wooden staff, it brings us back to the simplicity of the primitive christian church, while to the period of its highest development we owe the great masterpieces of celtic metal-work. the stone chalice is now replaced by the chalice of silver and gold; the iron bell has its jewel-studded shrine, and the rough staff its gorgeous casing; rich caskets and splendid bindings preserve the holy books of the saints and, instead of the rudely carved symbol of the early missionaries, we have such beautiful works of art as the processional cross of cong abbey. beautiful this cross certainly is with its delicate intricacy of ornamentation, its grace of proportion and its marvel of mere workmanship, nor is there any doubt about its history. from the inscriptions on it, which are corroborated by the annals of innisfallen and the book of clonmacnoise, we learn that it was made for king turlough o'connor by a native artist under the superintendence of bishop o'duffy, its primary object being to enshrine a portion of the true cross that was sent to the king in . brought to cong some years afterwards, probably by the archbishop, who died there in , it was concealed at the time of the reformation, but at the beginning of the present century was still in the possession of the last abbot, and at his death it was purchased by professor maccullagh and presented by him to the museum of the royal irish academy. this wonderful work is alone well worth a visit to dublin, but not less lovely is the chalice of ardagh, a two-handled silver cup, absolutely classical in its perfect purity of form, and decorated with gold and amber and crystal and with varieties of cloisonne and champleve enamel. there is no mention of this cup, or of the so-called tara brooch, in ancient irish history. all that we know of them is that they were found accidentally, the former by a boy who was digging potatoes near the old rath of ardagh, the latter by a poor child who picked it up near the seashore. they both, however, belong probably to the tenth century. of all these works, as well as of the bell shrines, book-covers, sculptured crosses and illuminated designs in manuscripts, excellent pictures are given in miss stokes's handbook. the extremely interesting fiachal phadrig, or shrine of st. patrick's tooth, might have been figured and noted as an interesting example of the survival of ornament, and one of the old miniatures of the scribe or evangelist writing would have given an additional interest to the chapter on irish mss. on the whole, however, the book is wonderfully well illustrated, and the ordinary art student will be able to get some useful suggestions from it. indeed, miss stokes, echoing the aspirations of many of the great irish archaeologists, looks forward to the revival of a native irish school in architecture, sculpture, metal-work and painting. such an aspiration is, of course, very laudable, but there is always a danger of these revivals being merely artificial reproductions, and it may be questioned whether the peculiar forms of irish ornamentation could be made at all expressive of the modern spirit. a recent writer on house decoration has gravely suggested that the british householder should take his meals in a celtic dining-room adorned with a dado of ogham inscriptions, and such wicked proposals may serve as a warning to all who fancy that the reproduction of a form necessarily implies a revival of the spirit that gave the form life and meaning, and who fail to recognise the difference between art and anachronisms. miss stokes's proposal for an ark-shaped church in which the mural painter is to repeat the arcades and 'follow the architectural compositions of the grand pages of the eusebian canons in the book of kells,' has, of course, nothing grotesque about it, but it is not probable that the artistic genius of the irish people will, even when 'the land has rest,' find in such interesting imitations its healthiest or best expression. still, there are certain elements of beauty in ancient irish art that the modern artist would do well to study. the value of the intricate illuminations in the book of kells, as far as their adaptability to modern designs and modern material goes, has been very much overrated, but in the ancient irish torques, brooches, pins, clasps and the like, the modern goldsmith will find a rich and, comparatively speaking, an untouched field; and now that the celtic spirit has become the leaven of our politics, there is no reason why it should not contribute something to our decorative art. this result, however, will not be obtained by a patriotic misuse of old designs, and even the most enthusiastic home ruler must not be allowed to decorate his dining-room with a dado of oghams. early christian art in ireland. by margaret stokes. (published for the committee of council on education by chapman and hall.) literary and other notes--iii (woman's world, january .) madame ristori's etudes et souvenirs is one of the most delightful books on the stage that has appeared since lady martin's charming volume on the shakespearian heroines. it is often said that actors leave nothing behind them but a barren name and a withered wreath; that they subsist simply upon the applause of the moment; that they are ultimately doomed to the oblivion of old play-bills; and that their art, in a word, dies with them, and shares their own mortality. 'chippendale, the cabinet- maker,' says the clever author of obiter dicta, 'is more potent than garrick the actor. the vivacity of the latter no longer charms (save in boswell); the chairs of the former still render rest impossible in a hundred homes.' this view, however, seems to me to be exaggerated. it rests on the assumption that acting is simply a mimetic art, and takes no account of its imaginative and intellectual basis. it is quite true, of course, that the personality of the player passes away, and with it that pleasure-giving power by virtue of which the arts exist. yet the artistic method of a great actor survives. it lives on in tradition, and becomes part of the science of a school. it has all the intellectual life of a principle. in england, at the present moment, the influence of garrick on our actors is far stronger than that of reynolds on our painters of portraits, and if we turn to france it is easy to discern the tradition of talma, but where is the tradition of david? madame ristori's memoirs, then, have not merely the charm that always attaches to the autobiography of a brilliant and beautiful woman, but have also a definite and distinct artistic value. her analysis of the character of lady macbeth, for instance, is full of psychological interest, and shows us that the subtleties of shakespearian criticism are not necessarily confined to those who have views on weak endings and rhyming tags, but may also be suggested by the art of acting itself. the author of obiter dicta seeks to deny to actors all critical insight and all literary appreciation. the actor, he tells us, is art's slave, not her child, and lives entirely outside literature, 'with its words for ever on his lips, and none of its truths engraven on his heart.' but this seems to me to be a harsh and reckless generalisation. indeed, so far from agreeing with it, i would be inclined to say that the mere artistic process of acting, the translation of literature back again into life, and the presentation of thought under the conditions of action, is in itself a critical method of a very high order; nor do i think that a study of the careers of our great english actors will really sustain the charge of want of literary appreciation. it may be true that actors pass too quickly away from the form, in order to get at the feeling that gives the form beauty and colour, and that, where the literary critic studies the language, the actor looks simply for the life; and yet, how well the great actors have appreciated that marvellous music of words which in shakespeare, at any rate, is so vital an element of poetic power, if, indeed, it be not equally so in the case of all who have any claim to be regarded as true poets. 'the sensual life of verse,' says keats, in a dramatic criticism published in the champion, 'springs warm from the lips of kean, and to one learned in shakespearian hieroglyphics, learned in the spiritual portion of those lines to which kean adds a sensual grandeur, his tongue must seem to have robbed the hybla bees and left them honeyless.' this particular feeling, of which keats speaks, is familiar to all who have heard salvini, sarah bernhardt, ristori, or any of the great artists of our day, and it is a feeling that one cannot, i think, gain merely by reading the passage to oneself. for my own part, i must confess that it was not until i heard sarah bernhardt in phedre that i absolutely realised the sweetness of the music of racine. as for mr. birrell's statement that actors have the words of literature for ever on their lips, but none of its truths engraved on their hearts, all that one can say is that, if it be true, it is a defect which actors share with the majority of literary critics. the account madame ristori gives of her own struggles, voyages and adventures, is very pleasant reading indeed. the child of poor actors, she made her first appearance when she was three months old, being brought on in a hamper as a new year's gift to a selfish old gentleman who would not forgive his daughter for having married for love. as, however, she began to cry long before the hamper was opened, the comedy became a farce, to the immense amusement of the public. she next appeared in a mediaeval melodrama, being then three years of age, and was so terrified at the machinations of the villain that she ran away at the most critical moment. however, her stage-fright seems to have disappeared, and we find her playing silvio pellico's francesco, da rimini at fifteen, and at eighteen making her debut as marie stuart. at this time the naturalism of the french method was gradually displacing the artificial elocution and academic poses of the italian school of acting. madame ristori seems to have tried to combine simplicity with style, and the passion of nature with the self-restraint of the artist. 'j'ai voulu fondre les deux manieres,' she tells us, 'car je sentais que toutes choses etant susceptibles de progres, l'art dramatique aussi etait appele a subir des transformations.' the natural development, however, of the italian drama was almost arrested by the ridiculous censorship of plays then existing in each town under austrian or papal rule. the slightest allusion to the sentiment of nationality or the spirit of freedom was prohibited. even the word patria was regarded as treasonable, and madame ristori tells us an amusing story of the indignation of a censor who was asked to license a play, in which a dumb man returns home after an absence of many years, and on his entrance upon the stage makes gestures expressive of his joy in seeing his native land once more. 'gestures of this kind,' said the censor, 'are obviously of a very revolutionary tendency, and cannot possibly be allowed. the only gestures that i could think of permitting would be gestures expressive of a dumb man's delight in scenery generally.' the stage directions were accordingly altered, and the word 'landscape' substituted for 'native land'! another censor was extremely severe on an unfortunate poet who had used the expression 'the beautiful italian sky,' and explained to him that 'the beautiful lombardo-venetian sky' was the proper official expression to use. poor gregory in romeo and juliet had to be rechristened, because gregory is a name dear to the popes; and the here i have a pilot's thumb, wrecked as homeward he did come, of the first witch in macbeth was ruthlessly struck out as containing an obvious allusion to the steersman of st. peter's bark. finally, bored and bothered by the political and theological dogberrys of the day, with their inane prejudices, their solemn stupidity, and their entire ignorance of the conditions necessary for the growth of sane and healthy art, madame ristori made up her mind to leave the stage. she, however, was extremely anxious to appear once before a parisian audience, paris being at that time the centre of dramatic activity, and after some consideration left italy for france in the year . there she seems to have been a great success, particularly in the part of myrrha; classical without being cold, artistic without being academic, she brought to the interpretation of the character of alfieri's great heroine the colour- element of passion, the form-element of style. jules janin was loud in his praises, the emperor begged ristori to join the troupe of the comedie francaise, and rachel, with the strange narrow jealousy of her nature, trembled for her laurels. myrrha was followed by marie stuart, and marie stuart by medea. in the latter part madame ristori excited the greatest enthusiasm. ary scheffer designed her costumes for her; and the niobe that stands in the uffizzi gallery at florence, suggested to madame ristori her famous pose in the scene with the children. she would not consent, however, to remain in france, and we find her subsequently playing in almost every country in the world from egypt to mexico, from denmark to honolulu. her representations of classical plays seem to have been always immensely admired. when she played at athens, the king offered to arrange for a performance in the beautiful old theatre of dionysos, and during her tour in portugal she produced medea before the university of coimbra. her description of the latter engagement is extremely interesting. on her arrival at the university, she was received by the entire body of the undergraduates, who still wear a costume almost mediaeval in character. some of them came on the stage in the course of the play as the handmaidens of creusa, hiding their black beards beneath heavy veils, and as soon as they had finished their parts they took their places gravely among the audience, to madame ristori's horror, still in their greek dress, but with their veils thrown back, and smoking long cigars. 'ce n'est pas la premiere fois,' she says, 'que j'ai du empecher, par un effort de volonte, la tragedie de se terminer en farce.' very interesting, also, is her account of the production of montanelli's camma, and she tells an amusing story of the arrest of the author by the french police on the charge of murder, in consequence of a telegram she sent to him in which the words 'body of the victim' occurred. indeed, the whole book is full of cleverly written stories, and admirable criticisms on dramatic art. i have quoted from the french version, which happens to be the one that lies before me, but whether in french or italian the book is one of the most fascinating autobiographies that has appeared for some time, even in an age like ours when literary egotism has been brought to such an exquisite pitch of perfection. * * * * * the new purgatory and other poems, by miss e. r. chapman, is, in some respects, a very remarkable little volume. it used to be said that women were too poetical by nature to make great poets, too receptive to be really creative, too well satisfied with mere feeling to search after the marble splendour of form. but we must not judge of woman's poetic power by her achievements in days when education was denied to her, for where there is no faculty of expression no art is possible. mrs. browning, the first great english poetess, was also an admirable scholar, though she may not have put the accents on her greek, and even in those poems that seem most remote from classical life, such as aurora leigh, for instance, it is not difficult to trace the fine literary influence of a classical training. since mrs. browning's time, education has become, not the privilege of a few women, but the inalienable inheritance of all; and, as a natural consequence of the increased faculty of expression thereby gained, the women poets of our day hold a very high literary position. curiously enough, their poetry is, as a rule, more distinguished for strength than for beauty; they seem to love to grapple with the big intellectual problems of modern life; science, philosophy and metaphysics form a large portion of their ordinary subject-matter; they leave the triviality of triolets to men, and try to read the writing on the wall, and to solve the last secret of the sphinx. hence robert browning, not keats, is their idol; sordello moves them more than the ode on a grecian urn; and all lord tennyson's magic and music seems to them as nothing compared with the psychological subtleties of the ring and the book, or the pregnant questions stirred in the dialogue between blougram and gigadibs. indeed i remember hearing a charming young girtonian, forgetting for a moment the exquisite lyrics in pippa passes, and the superb blank verse of men and women, state quite seriously that the reason she admired the author of red-cotton night-cap country was that he had headed a reaction against beauty in poetry! miss chapman is probably one of mr. browning's disciples. she does not imitate him, but it is easy to discern his influence on her verse, and she has caught something of his fine, strange faith. take, for instance, her poem, a strong-minded woman: see her? oh, yes!--come this way--hush! this way, here she is lying, sweet--with the smile her face wore yesterday, as she lay dying. calm, the mind-fever gone, and, praise god! gone all the heart-hunger; looking the merest girl at forty-one-- you guessed her younger? well, she'd the flower-bloom that children have, was lithe and pliant, with eyes as innocent blue as they were brave, resolved, defiant. yourself--you worship art! well, at that shrine she too bowed lowly, drank thirstily of beauty, as of wine, proclaimed it holy. but could you follow her when, in a breath, she knelt to science, vowing to truth true service to the death, and heart-reliance? nay,--then for you she underwent eclipse, appeared as alien as once, before he prayed, those ivory lips seemed to pygmalion. * * * * * hear from your heaven, my dear, my lost delight, you who were woman to your heart's heart, and not more pure, more white, than warmly human. how shall i answer? how express, reveal your true life-story? how utter, if they cannot guess--not feel your crowning glory? this way. attend my words. the rich, we know, do into heaven enter but hardly; to the poor, the low, god's kingdom's given. well, there's another heaven--a heaven on earth-- (that's love's fruition) whereto a certain lack--a certain dearth-- gains best admission. here, too, she was too rich--ah, god! if less love had been lent her!-- into the realm of human happiness these look--not enter. well, here we have, if not quite an echo, at least a reminiscence of the metre of the grammarian's funeral; and the peculiar blending together of lyrical and dramatic forms, seems essentially characteristic of mr. browning's method. yet there is a distinct personal note running all through the poem, and true originality is to be found rather in the use made of a model than in the rejection of all models and masters. dans l'art comme dans la nature on est toujours fils de quelqu'un, and we should not quarrel with the reed if it whispers to us the music of the lyre. a little child once asked me if it was the nightingale who taught the linnets how to sing. miss chapman's other poems contain a great deal that is interesting. the most ambitious is the new purgatory, to which the book owes its title. it is a vision of a strange garden in which, cleansed and purified of all stain and shame, walk judas of cherioth, nero the lord of rome, ysabel the wife of ahab, and others, around whose names cling terrible memories of horror, or awful splendours of sin. the conception is fine, but the treatment is hardly adequate. there are, however, some good strong lines in it, and, indeed, almost all of miss chapman's poems are worth reading, if not for their absolute beauty, at least for their intellectual intention. * * * * * nothing is more interesting than to watch the change and development of the art of novel-writing in this nineteenth century--'this so-called nineteenth century,' as an impassioned young orator once termed it, after a contemptuous diatribe against the evils of modern civilisation. in france they have had one great genius, balzac, who invented the modern method of looking at life; and one great artist, flaubert, who is the impeccable master of style; and to the influence of these two men we may trace almost all contemporary french fiction. but in england we have had no schools worth speaking of. the fiery torch lit by the brontes has not been passed on to other hands; dickens has influenced only journalism; thackeray's delightful superficial philosophy, superb narrative power, and clever social satire have found no echoes; nor has trollope left any direct successors behind him--a fact which is not much to be regretted, however, as, admirable though trollope undoubtedly is for rainy afternoons and tedious railway journeys, from the point of view of literature he is merely the perpetual curate of pudlington parva. as for george meredith, who could hope to reproduce him? his style is chaos illumined by brilliant flashes of lightning. as a writer he has mastered everything, except language; as a novelist he can do everything, except tell a story; as an artist he is everything, except articulate. too strange to be popular, too individual to have imitators, the author of richard feverel stands absolutely alone. it is easy to disarm criticism, but he has disarmed the disciple. he gives us his philosophy through the medium of wit, and is never so pathetic as when he is humorous. to turn truth into a paradox is not difficult, but george meredith makes all his paradoxes truths, and no theseus can thread his labyrinth, no oedipus solve his secret. however, it is only fair to acknowledge that there are some signs of a school springing up amongst us. this school is not native, nor does it seek to reproduce any english master. it may be described as the result of the realism of paris filtered through the refining influence of boston. analysis, not action, is its aim; it has more psychology than passion, and it plays very cleverly upon one string, and this is the commonplace. * * * * * as a reaction against this school, it is pleasant to come across a novel like lady augusta noel's hithersea mere. if this story has any definite defect, it comes from its delicacy and lightness of treatment. an industrious bostonian would have made half a dozen novels out of it, and have had enough left for a serial. lady augusta noel is content to vivify her characters, and does not care about vivisection; she suggests rather than explains; and she does not seek to make life too obviously rational. romance, picturesqueness, charm--these are the qualities of her book. as for its plot, it has so many plots that it is difficult to describe them. we have the story of rhona somerville, the daughter of a great popular preacher, who tries to write her father's life, and, on looking over his papers and early diaries, finds struggle where she expected calm, and doubt where she looked for faith, and is afraid to keep back the truth, and yet dares not publish it. rhona is quite charming; she is like a little flower that takes itself very seriously, and she shows us how thoroughly nice and natural a narrow-minded girl may be. then we have the two brothers, john and adrian mowbray. john is the hard-working, vigorous clergyman, who is impatient of all theories, brings his faith to the test of action, not of intellect, lives what he believes, and has no sympathy for those who waver or question--a thoroughly admirable, practical, and extremely irritating man. adrian is the fascinating dilettante, the philosophic doubter, a sort of romantic rationalist with a taste for art. of course, rhona marries the brother who needs conversion, and their gradual influence on each other is indicated by a few subtle touches. then we have the curious story of olga, adrian mowbray's first love. she is a wonderful and mystical girl, like a little maiden out of the sagas, with the blue eyes and fair hair of the north. an old norwegian nurse is always at her side, a sort of lapland witch who teaches her how to see visions and to interpret dreams. adrian mocks at this superstition, as he calls it, but as a consequence of disregarding it, olga's only brother is drowned skating, and she never speaks to adrian again. the whole story is told in the most suggestive way, the mere delicacy of the touch making what is strange seem real. the most delightful character in the whole book, however, is a girl called hilary marston, and hers also is the most tragic tale of all. hilary is like a little woodland faun, half greek and half gipsy; she knows the note of every bird, and the haunt of every animal; she is terribly out of place in a drawing-room, but is on intimate terms with every young poacher in the district; squirrels come and sit on her shoulder, which is pretty, and she carries ferrets in her pockets, which is dreadful; she never reads a book, and has not got a single accomplishment, but she is fascinating and fearless, and wiser, in her own way, than any pedant or bookworm. this poor little english dryad falls passionately in love with a great blind helpless hero, who regards her as a sort of pleasant tom- boy; and her death is most touching and pathetic. lady augusta noel has a charming and winning style, her descriptions of nature are quite admirable, and her book is one of the most pleasantly-written novels that has appeared this winter. miss alice corkran's margery merton's girlhood has the same lightness of touch and grace of treatment. though ostensibly meant for young people, it is a story that all can read with pleasure, for it is true without being harsh, and beautiful without being affected, and its rejection of the stronger and more violent passions of life is artistic rather than ascetic. in a word, it is a little piece of true literature, as dainty as it is delicate, and as sweet as it is simple. margery merton is brought up in paris by an old maiden aunt, who has an elaborate theory of education, and strict ideas about discipline. her system is an excellent one, being founded on the science of darwin and the wisdom of solomon, but it comes to terrible grief when put into practice; and finally she has to procure a governess, madame reville, the widow of a great and unappreciated french painter. from her margery gets her first feeling for art, and the chief interest of the book centres round a competition for an art scholarship, into which margery and the other girls of the convent school enter. margery selects joan of arc as her subject; and, rather to the horror of the good nuns, who think that the saint should have her golden aureole, and be as gorgeous and as ecclesiastical as bright paints and bad drawing can make her, the picture represents a common peasant girl, standing in an old orchard, and listening in ignorant terror to the strange voices whispering in her ear. the scene in which she shows her sketch for the first time to the art master and the mother superior is very cleverly rendered indeed, and shows considerable dramatic power. of course, a good deal of opposition takes place, but ultimately margery has her own way and, in spite of a wicked plot set on foot by a jealous competitor, who persuades the mother superior that the picture is not margery's own work, she succeeds in winning the prize. the whole account of the gradual development of the conception in the girl's mind, and the various attempts she makes to give her dream its perfect form, is extremely interesting and, indeed, the book deserves a place among what sir george trevelyan has happily termed 'the art-literature' of our day. mr. ruskin in prose, and mr. browning in poetry, were the first who drew for us the workings of the artist soul, the first who led us from the painting or statue to the hand that fashioned it, and the brain that gave it life. they seem to have made art more expressive for us, to have shown us a passionate humanity lying behind line and colour. theirs was the seed of this new literature, and theirs, too, is its flower; but it is pleasant to note their influence on miss corkran's little story, in which the creation of a picture forms the dominant motif. * * * * * mrs. pfeiffer's women and work is a collection of most interesting essays on the relation to health and physical development of the higher education of girls, and the intellectual or more systematised effort of woman. mrs. pfeiffer, who writes a most admirable prose style, deals in succession with the sentimental difficulty, with the economic problem, and with the arguments of physiologists. she boldly grapples with professor romanes, whose recent article in the nineteenth century, on the leading characters which mentally differentiate men and women, attracted so much attention, and produces some very valuable statistics from america, where the influence of education on health has been most carefully studied. her book is a most important contribution to the discussion of one of the great social problems of our day. the extended activity of women is now an accomplished fact; its results are on their trial; and mrs. pfeiffer's excellent essays sum up the situation very completely, and show the rational and scientific basis of the movement more clearly and more logically than any other treatise i have as yet seen. * * * * * it is interesting to note that many of the most advanced modern ideas on the subject of the education of women are anticipated by defoe in his wonderful essay upon projects, where he proposes that a college for women should be erected in every county in england, and ten colleges of the kind in london. 'i have often thought of it, 'he says,' as one of the most barbarous customs in the world that we deny the advantages of learning to women. their youth is spent to teach them to stitch and sew, or make baubles. they are taught to read, indeed, and perhaps to write their names or so, and that is the height of a woman's education. and i would but ask any who slight the sex for their understanding, "what is a man (a gentleman i mean) good for that is taught no more?" what has the woman done to forfeit the privilege of being taught? shall we upbraid women with folly when it is only the error of this inhuman custom that hindered them being made wiser?' defoe then proceeds to elaborate his scheme for the foundation of women's colleges, and enters into minute details about the architecture, the general curriculum, and the discipline. his suggestion that the penalty of death should be inflicted on any man who ventured to make a proposal of marriage to any of the girl students during term time possibly suggested the plot of lord tennyson's princess, so its harshness may be excused, and in all other respects his ideas are admirable. i am glad to see that this curious little volume forms one of the national library series. in its anticipations of many of our most modern inventions it shows how thoroughly practical all dreamers are. * * * * * i am sorry to see that mrs. fawcett deprecates the engagement of ladies of education as dressmakers and milliners, and speaks of it as being detrimental to those who have fewer educational advantages. i myself would like to see dressmaking regarded not merely as a learned profession, but as a fine art. to construct a costume that will be at once rational and beautiful requires an accurate knowledge of the principles of proportion, a thorough acquaintance with the laws of health, a subtle sense of colour, and a quick appreciation of the proper use of materials, and the proper qualities of pattern and design. the health of a nation depends very largely on its mode of dress; the artistic feeling of a nation should find expression in its costume quite as much as in its architecture; and just as the upholstering tradesman has had to give place to the decorative artist, so the ordinary milliner, with her lack of taste and lack of knowledge, her foolish fashions and her feeble inventions, will have to make way for the scientific and artistic dress designer. indeed, so far from it being wise to discourage women of education from taking up the profession of dressmakers, it is exactly women of education who are needed, and i am glad to see in the new technical college for women at bedford, millinery and dressmaking are to be taught as part of the ordinary curriculum. there has also been started in london a society of lady dressmakers for the purpose of teaching educated girls and women, and the scientific dress association is, i hear, doing very good work in the same direction. * * * * * i have received some very beautiful specimens of christmas books from messrs. griffith and farran. treasures of art and song, edited by robert ellice mack, is a real edition de luxe of pretty poems and pretty pictures; and through the year is a wonderfully artistic calendar. messrs. hildesheimer and faulkner have also sent me rhymes and roses, illustrated by ernest wilson and st. clair simmons; cape town dicky, a child's book, with some very lovely pictures by miss alice havers; a wonderful edition of the deserted village, illustrated by mr. charles gregory and mr. hines; and some really charming christmas cards, those by miss alice havers, miss edwards, and miss dealy being especially good. * * * * * the most perfect and the most poisonous of all modern french poets once remarked that a man can live for three days without bread, but that no one can live for three days without poetry. this, however, can hardly be said to be a popular view, or one that commends itself to that curiously uncommon quality which is called common-sense. i fancy that most people, if they do not actually prefer a salmis to a sonnet, certainly like their culture to repose on a basis of good cookery, and as there is something to be said for this attitude, i am glad to see that several ladies are interesting themselves in cookery classes. mrs. marshall's brilliant lectures are, of course, well known, and besides her there is madame lebour-fawssett, who holds weekly classes in kensington. madame fawssett is the author of an admirable little book, entitled economical french cookery for ladies, and i am glad to hear that her lectures are so successful. i was talking the other day to a lady who works a great deal at the east end of london, and she told me that no small part of the permanent misery of the poor is due to their entire ignorance of the cleanliness and economy necessary for good cooking. * * * * * the popular ballad concert society has been reorganised under the name of the popular musical union. its object will be to train the working classes thoroughly in the enjoyment and performance of music, and to provide the inhabitants of the crowded districts of the east end with concerts and oratorios, to be performed as far as possible by trained members of the working classes; and, though money is urgently required, it is proposed to make the society to a certain degree self-supporting by giving something in the form of high-class concerts in return for subscriptions and donations. the whole scheme is an excellent one, and i hope that the readers of the woman's world will give it their valuable support. mrs. ernest hart is the secretary, and the treasurer is the rev. s. barnett. ( ) etudes et souvenirs. by madame ristori. (paul ollendorff.) ( ) the new purgatory and other poems. by elizabeth rachel chapman. (fisher unwin.) ( ) hithersea mere. by lady augusta noel, author of wandering willie, from generation to generation, etc. (macmillan and co.) ( ) margery merton's girlhood. by alice corkran. (blackie and son.) ( ) women and work. by emily pfeiffer. (trubner and co.) ( ) treasures of art and song. edited by robert ellice mack. (griffith and farren.) ( ) rhymes and roses. illustrated by ernest wilson and st. clair simons. cape town dicky. illustrated by alice havers. the deserted pillage. illustrated by charles gregory and john hines. (hildesheimer and faulkner.) the poets' corner--iv (pall mall gazette, january , .) a cynical critic once remarked that no great poet is intelligible and no little poet worth understanding, but that otherwise poetry is an admirable thing. this, however, seems to us a somewhat harsh view of the subject. little poets are an extremely interesting study. the best of them have often some new beauty to show us, and though the worst of them may bore yet they rarely brutalise. poor folks' lives, for instance, by the rev. frederick langbridge, is a volume that could do no possible harm to any one. these poems display a healthy, rollicking, g. r. sims tone of feeling, an almost unbounded regard for the converted drunkard, and a strong sympathy with the sufferings of the poor. as for their theology, it is of that honest, downright and popular kind, which in these rationalistic days is probably quite as useful as any other form of theological thought. here is the opening of a poem called a street sermon, which is an interesting example of what muscular christianity can do in the sphere of verse-making: what, god fight shy of the city? he's t' other side up i guess; if you ever want to find him, whitechapel's the right address. those who prefer pseudo-poetical prose to really prosaic poetry will wish that mr. dalziel had converted most of his pictures in the fire into leaders for the daily telegraph, as, from the literary point of view, they have all the qualities dear to the asiatic school. what a splendid leader the young lions of fleet street would have made out of the prestige of england, for instance, a poem suggested by the opening of the zulu war in . now away sail our ships far away o'er the sea, far away with our gallant and brave; the loud war-cry is sounding like wild revelrie, and our heroes dash on to their grave; for the fierce zulu tribes have arisen in their might, and in thousands swept down on our few; but these braves only yielded when crushed in the fight, man to man to their colours were true. the conception of the war-cry sounding 'like wild revelrie' is quite in the true asiatic spirit, and indeed the whole poem is full of the daring english of a special correspondent. personally, we prefer mr. dalziel when he is not quite so military. the fairies, for instance, is a very pretty poem, and reminds us of some of dicky doyle's charming drawings, and nat bentley is a capital ballad in its way. the irish poems, however, are rather vulgar and should be expunged. the celtic element in literature is extremely valuable, but there is absolutely no excuse for shrieking 'shillelagh!' and 'o gorrah!' women must weep, by professor harald williams, has the most dreadful cover of any book that we have come across for some time past. it is possibly intended to symbolise the sorrow of the world, but it merely suggests the decorative tendencies of an undertaker and is as depressing as it is detestable. however, as the cowl does not make the monk, so the binding, in the case of the savile club school, does not make the poet, and we open the volume without prejudice. the first poem that we come to is a vigorous attack on those wicked and misguided people who believe that beauty is its own reason for existing, and that art should have no other aim but her own perfection. here are some of the professor's gravest accusations: why do they patch, in their fatal choice, when at secrets such the angels quake, but a play of the vision and the voice?-- oh, it's all for art's sake. why do they gather what should be left, and leave behind what they ought to take, and exult in the basest blank or theft?-- oh, it's all for art's sake. it certainly must be admitted that to 'patch' or to 'exult in the basest blank' is a form of conduct quite unbefitting an artist, the very obscurity and incomprehensible character of such a crime adding something to its horror. however, while fully recognising the wickedness of 'patching' we cannot but think that professor harald williams is happier in his criticism of life than he is in his art criticism. his poem between the banks, for instance, has a touch of sincerity and fine feeling that almost atones for its over-emphasis. mr. buchan's blank verse drama joseph and his brethren bears no resemblance to that strange play on the same subject which mr. swinburne so much admires. indeed, it may be said to possess all the fatal originality of inexperience. however, mr. buchan does not leave us in any doubt about his particular method of writing. 'as to the dialogue,' he says, 'i have put the language of real life into the mouths of the speakers, except when they may be supposed to be under strong emotion; then their utterances become more rapid--broken--figurative--in short more poetical.' well, here is the speech of potiphar's wife under strong emotion: zuleekha (seizing him). love me! or death! ha! dost thou think thou wilt not, and yet live? by isis, no. and thou wilt turn away, iron, marble mockman! ah! i hold thy life! love feeds on death. it swallows up all life, hugging, or killing. i to woo, and thou-- unhappy me! oh! the language here is certainly rapid and broken, and the expression 'marble mockman' is, we suppose, figurative, but the passage can scarcely be described as poetical, though it fulfils all mr. buchan's conditions. still, tedious as zuleekha and joseph are, the chorus of ancients is much worse. these 'ideal spectators' seem to spend their lives in uttering those solemn platitudes that with the aged pass for wisdom. the chief offenders are the members of what mr. buchan calls 'the nd.--semi-chorus,' who have absolutely no hesitation in interrupting the progress of the play with observations of this kind: nd.--semi-chorus ah! but favour extreme shown to one among equals who yet stand apart, awakeneth, say ye, if naturally, the demons--jealousy, envy, hate,-- in the breast of those passed by. it is a curious thing that when minor poets write choruses to a play they should always consider it necessary to adopt the style and language of a bad translator. we fear that mr. bohn has much to answer for. god's garden is a well-meaning attempt to use nature for theological and educational purposes. it belongs to that antiquated school of thought that, in spite of the discoveries of modern science, invites the sluggard to look at the ant, and the idle to imitate the bee. it is full of false analogies and dull eighteenth-century didactics. it tells us that the flowering cactus should remind us that a dwarf may possess mental and moral qualities, that the mountain ash should teach us the precious fruits of affliction, and that a fond father should learn from the example of the chestnut that the most beautiful children often turn out badly! we must admit that we have no sympathy with this point of view, and we strongly protest against the idea that the flaming poppy, with its black core, tells of anger's flushing face, and heart of sin. the worst use that man can make of nature is to turn her into a mirror for his own vices, nor are nature's secrets ever disclosed to those who approach her in this spirit. however, the author of this irritating little volume is not always botanising and moralising in this reckless and improper fashion. he has better moments, and those who sympathise with the duke of westminster's efforts to provide open spaces for the people, will no doubt join in the aspiration-- god bless wise grosvenors whose hearts incline, workmen to fete, and grateful souls refine; though they may regret that so noble a sentiment is expressed in so inadequate a form. it is difficult to understand why mr. cyrus thornton should have called his volume voices of the street. however, poets have a perfect right to christen their own children, and if the wine is good no one should quarrel with the bush. mr. thornton's verse is often graceful and melodious, and some of his lines, such as-- and the wise old roman bondsman saw no terror in the dead-- children when the play was over, going softly home to bed, have a pleasant tennysonian ring. the ballad of the old year is rather depressing. 'bury the old year solemnly' has been said far too often, and the sentiment is suitable only for christmas crackers. the best thing in the book is the poet's vision of death, which is quite above the average. mrs. dobell informs us that she has already published sixteen volumes of poetry and that she intends to publish two more. the volume that now lies before us is entitled in the watches of the night, most of the poems that it contains having been composed 'in the neighbourhood of the sea, between the hours of ten and two o'clock.' judging from the following extract we cannot say that we consider this a very favourable time for inspiration, at any rate in the case of mrs. dobell: were anthony trollope and george eliot alive--which unfortunately they are not-- as regards the subject of 'quack-snubbing,' you know, to support me i am sure they hadn't been slow-- for they, too, hated the wretched parasite that fattens on the freshest, the most bright of the blossoms springing from the--public press!-- and that oft are flowers that even our quacks should bless! ( ) poor folks' lives. by the rev. frederick langbridge. (simpkin, marshall and co.) ( ) pictures in the fire. by george dalziel. (privately printed.) ( ) women must weep. by professor f. harald williams. (swan sonnenschein and co.) ( ) joseph and his brethren: a trilogy. by alexander buchan. (digby and long.) ( ) god's garden. by heartsease. (james nisbet and co.) ( ) voices of the street. by cyrus thornton. (elliot stock.) ( ) in the watches of the night. by mrs. horace dobell. (remington and co.) literary and other notes--iv (woman's world, february .) canute the great, by michael field, is in many respects a really remarkable work of art. its tragic element is to be found in life, not in death; in the hero's psychological development, not in his moral declension or in any physical calamity; and the author has borrowed from modern science the idea that in the evolutionary struggle for existence the true tragedy may be that of the survivor. canute, the rough generous viking, finds himself alienated from his gods, his forefathers, his very dreams. with centuries of pagan blood in his veins, he sets himself to the task of becoming a great christian governor and lawgiver to men; and yet he is fully conscious that, while he has abandoned the noble impulses of his race, he still retains that which in his nature is most fierce or fearful. it is not by faith that he reaches the new creed, nor through gentleness that he seeks after the new culture. the beautiful christian woman whom he has made queen of his life and lands teaches him no mercy, and knows nothing of forgiveness. it is sin and not suffering that purifies him--mere sin itself. 'be not afraid,' he says in the last great scene of the play: 'be not afraid; i have learnt this, sin is a mighty bond 'twixt god and man. love that has ne'er forgiven is virgin and untender; spousal passion becomes acquainted with life's vilest things, transmutes them, and exalts. oh, wonderful, this touch of pardon,--all the shame cast out; the heart a-ripple with the gaiety, the leaping consciousness that heaven knows all, and yet esteems us royal. think of it-- the joy, the hope!' this strange and powerful conception is worked out in a manner as strong as it is subtle; and, indeed, almost every character in the play seems to suggest some new psychological problem. the mere handling of the verse is essentially characteristic of our modern introspective method, as it presents to us, not thought in its perfected form, but the involutions of thought seeking for expression. we seem to witness the very workings of the mind, and to watch the passion struggling for utterance. in plays of this kind (plays that are meant to be read, not to be acted) it must be admitted that we often miss that narrative and descriptive element which in the epic is so great a charm, and, indeed, may be said to be almost essential to the perfect literary presentation of any story. this element the greek managed to retain by the introduction of chorus and messenger; but we seem to have been unable to invent any substitute for it. that there is here a distinct loss cannot, i think, be denied. there is something harsh, abrupt, and inartistic in such a stage-direction as 'canute strangles edric, flings his body into the stream, and gazes out.' it strikes no dramatic note, it conveys no picture, it is meagre and inadequate. if acted it might be fine; but as read, it is unimpressive. however, there is no form of art that has not got its limitations, and though it is sad to see the action of a play relegated to a formal footnote, still there is undoubtedly a certain gain in psychological analysis and psychological concentration. it is a far cry from the knutlinga saga to rossetti's note-book, but michael field passes from one to the other without any loss of power. indeed, most readers will probably prefer the cup of water, which is the second play in this volume, to the earlier historical drama. it is more purely poetical; and if it has less power, it has certainly more beauty. rossetti conceived the idea of a story in which a young king falls passionately in love with a little peasant girl who gives him a cup of water, and is by her beloved in turn, but being betrothed to a noble lady, he yields her in marriage to his friend, on condition that once a year--on the anniversary of their meeting--she brings him a cup of water. the girl dies in childbirth, leaving a daughter who grows into her mother's perfect likeness, and comes to meet the king when he is hunting. just, however, as he is about to take the cup from her hand, a second figure, in her exact likeness, but dressed in peasant's clothes, steps to her side, looks in the king's face, and kisses him on the mouth. he falls forward on his horse's neck, and is lifted up dead. michael field has struck out the supernatural element so characteristic of rossetti's genius, and in some other respects modified for dramatic purposes material rossetti left unused. the result is a poem of exquisite and pathetic grace. cara, the peasant girl, is a creation as delicate as it is delightful, and it deserves to rank beside the faun of callirhoe. as for the young king who loses all the happiness of his life through one noble moment of unselfishness, and who recognised as he stands over cara's dead body that women are not chattels, to deal with as one's generosity may prompt or straiten, . . . and that we must learn to drink life's pleasures if we would be pure, he is one of the most romantic figures in all modern dramatic work. looked at from a purely technical point of view, michael field's verse is sometimes lacking in music, and has no sustained grandeur of movement; but it is extremely dramatic, and its method is admirably suited to express those swift touches of nature and sudden flashes of thought which are michael field's distinguishing qualities. as for the moral contained in these plays, work that has the rich vitality of life has always something of life's mystery also; it cannot be narrowed down to a formal creed, nor summed up in a platitude; it has many answers, and more than one secret. * * * * * miss frances martin's life of elizabeth gilbert is an extremely interesting book. elizabeth gilbert was born at a time when, as her biographer reminds us, kindly and intelligent men and women could gravely implore the almighty to 'take away' a child merely because it was blind; when they could argue that to teach the blind to read, or to attempt to teach them to work, was to fly in the face of providence; and her whole life was given to the endeavour to overcome this prejudice and superstition; to show that blindness, though a great privation, is not necessarily a disqualification; and that blind men and women can learn, labour, and fulfil all the duties of life. before her day all that the blind were taught was to commit texts from the bible to memory. she saw that they could learn handicrafts, and be made industrious and self-supporting. she began with a small cellar in holborn, at the rent of eighteenpence a week, but before her death she could point to large and well-appointed workshops in almost every city of england where blind men and women are employed, where tools have been invented by or modified for them, and where agencies have been established for the sale of their work. the whole story of her life is full of pathos and of beauty. she was not born blind, but lost her sight through an attack of scarlet fever when she was three years old. for a long time she could not realise her position, and we hear of the little child making earnest appeals to be taken 'out of the dark room,' or to have a candle lighted; and once she whispered to her father, 'if i am a very good little girl, may i see my doll to-morrow?' however, all memory of vision seems to have faded from her before she left the sick-room, though, taught by those around her, she soon began to take an imaginary interest in colour, and a very real one in form and texture. an old nurse is still alive who remembers making a pink frock for her when she was a child, her delight at its being pink and her pleasure in stroking down the folds; and when in the young princess victoria visited oxford with her mother, bessie, as she was always called, came running home, exclaiming, 'oh, mamma, i have seen the duchess of kent, and she had on a brown silk dress.' her youthful admiration of wordsworth was based chiefly upon his love of flowers, but also on personal knowledge. when she was about ten years old, wordsworth went to oxford to receive the honorary degree of d.c.l. from the university. he stayed with dr. gilbert, then principal of brasenose, and won bessie's heart the first day by telling at the dinner table how he had almost leapt off the coach in bagley wood to gather the blue veronica. but she had a better reason for remembering that visit. one day she was in the drawing-room alone, and wordsworth entered. for a moment he stood silent before the blind child, the little sensitive face, with its wondering, inquiring look, turned towards him. then he gravely said, 'madam, i hope i do not disturb you.' she never forgot that 'madam'--grave, solemn, almost reverential. as for the great practical work of her life, the amelioration of the condition of the blind, miss martin gives a wonderful account of her noble efforts and her noble success; and the volume contains a great many interesting letters from eminent people, of which the following characteristic note from mr. ruskin is not the least interesting: denmark hill, nd september . madam,--i am obliged by your letter, and i deeply sympathise with the objects of the institution over which you preside. but one of my main principles of work is that every one must do their best, and spend their all in their own work, and mine is with a much lower race of sufferers than you plead for--with those who 'have eyes and see not.'--i am, madam, your faithful servant, j. ruskin. miss martin is a most sympathetic biographer, and her book should be read by all who care to know the history of one of the remarkable women of our century. * * * * * ourselves and our neighbours is a pleasant volume of social essays from the pen of one of the most graceful and attractive of all american poetesses, mrs. louise chandler moulton. mrs. moulton, who has a very light literary touch, discusses every important modern problem--from society rosebuds and old bachelors, down to the latest fashions in bonnets and in sonnets. the best chapter in the book is that entitled 'the gospel of good gowns,' which contains some very excellent remarks on the ethics of dress. mrs. moulton sums up her position in the following passage:-- the desire to please is a natural characteristic of unspoiled womanhood. 'if i lived in the woods, i should dress for the trees,' said a woman widely known for taste and for culture. every woman's dress should be, and if she has any ideality will be, an expression of herself. . . . the true gospel of dress is that of fitness and taste. pictures are painted, and music is written, and flowers are fostered, that life may be made beautiful. let women delight our eyes like pictures, be harmonious as music, and fragrant as flowers, that they also may fulfil their mission of grace and of beauty. by companionship with beautiful thoughts shall their tastes be so formed that their toilets will never be out of harmony with their means or their position. they will be clothed almost as unconsciously as the lilies of the field; but each one will be herself, and there will be no more uniformity in their attire than in their faces. the modern dryad who is ready to 'dress for the trees' seems to me a charming type; but i hardly think that mrs. moulton is right when she says that the woman of the future will be clothed 'almost as unconsciously as the lilies of the field.' possibly, however, she means merely to emphasise the distinction between dressing and dressing-up, a distinction which is often forgotten. * * * * * warring' angels is a very sad and suggestive story. it contains no impossible heroine and no improbable hero, but is simply a faithful transcript from life, a truthful picture of men and women as they are. darwin could not have enjoyed it, as it does not end happily. there is, at least, no distribution of cakes and ale in the last chapter. but, then, scientific people are not always the best judges of literature. they seem to think that the sole aim of art should be to amuse, and had they been consulted on the subject would have banished melpomene from parnassus. it may be admitted, however, that not a little of our modern art is somewhat harsh and painful. our castaly is very salt with tears, and we have bound the brows of the muses with cypress and with yew. we are often told that we are a shallow age, yet we have certainly the saddest literature of all the ages, for we have made truth and not beauty the aim of art, and seem to value imitation more than imagination. this tendency is, of course, more marked in fiction than it is in poetry. beauty of form is always in itself a source of joy; the mere _technique_ of verse has an imaginative and spiritual element; and life must, to a certain degree, be transfigured before it can find its expression in music. but ordinary fiction, rejecting the beauty of form in order to realise the facts of life, seems often to lack the vital element of delight, to miss that pleasure-giving power in virtue of which the arts exist. it would not, however, be fair to regard warring angels simply as a specimen of literary photography. it has a marked distinction of style, a definite grace and simplicity of manner. there is nothing crude in it, though it is to a certain degree inexperienced; nothing violent, though it is often strong. the story it has to tell has frequently been told before, but the treatment makes it new; and lady flower, for whose white soul the angels of good and evil are at war, is admirably conceived, and admirably drawn. * * * * * a song of jubilee and other poems contains some pretty, picturesque verses. its author is mrs. de courcy laffan, who, under the name of mrs. leith adams, is well known as a novelist and story writer. the jubilee ode is quite as good as most of the jubilee odes have been, and some of the short poems are graceful. this from the first butterfly is pretty: o little bird without a song! i love thy silent presence, floating in the light-- a living, perfect thing, when scarcely yet the snow-white blossom crawls along the wall, and not a daisy shows its star-like head amid the grass. miss bella duffy's life of madame de stael forms part of that admirable 'eminent women' series, which is so well edited by mr. john h. ingram. there is nothing absolutely new in miss duffy's book, but this was not to be expected. unpublished correspondence, that delight of the eager biographer, is not to be had in the case of madame de stael, the de broglie family having either destroyed or successfully concealed all the papers which might have revealed any facts not already in the possession of the world. upon the other hand, the book has the excellent quality of condensation, and gives us in less than two hundred pages a very good picture of madame de stael and her day. miss duffy's criticism of corinne is worth quoting: corinne is a classic of which everybody is bound to speak with respect. the enormous admiration which it exacted at the time of its appearance may seem somewhat strange in this year of grace; but then it must be remembered that italy was not the over-written country it has since become. besides this, madame de stael was the most conspicuous personage of her day. except chateaubriand, she had nobody to dispute with her the palm of literary glory in france. her exile, her literary circle, her courageous opinions, had kept the eyes of europe fixed on her for years, so that any work from her pen was sure to excite the liveliest curiosity. corinne is a kind of glorified guide-book, with some of the qualities of a good novel. it is very long winded, but the appetite of the age was robust in that respect, and the highly-strung emotions of the hero and heroine could not shock a taste which had been formed by the sorrows of werther. it is extremely moral, deeply sentimental, and of a deadly earnestness--three characteristics which could not fail to recommend it to a dreary and ponderous generation, the most deficient in taste that ever trod the earth. but it is artistic in the sense that the interest is concentrated from first to last on the central figure, and the drama, such as it is, unfolds itself naturally from its starting point, which is the contrast between the characters of oswald and corinne. the 'dreary and ponderous generation, the most deficient in taste that ever trod the earth,' seems to me a somewhat exaggerated mode of expression, but 'glorified guide-book' is a not unfelicitous description of the novel that once thrilled europe. miss duffy sums up her opinion of madame de stael as a writer in the following passage: her mind was strong of grasp and wide in range, but continuous effort fatigued it. she could strike out isolated sentences alternately brilliant, exhaustive, and profound, but she could not link them to other sentences so as to form an organic whole. her thought was definite singly, but vague as a whole. she always saw things separately, and tried to combine them arbitrarily, and it is generally difficult to follow out any idea of hers from its origin to its end. her thoughts are like pearls of price profusely scattered, or carelessly strung together, but not set in any design. on closing one of her books, the reader is left with no continuous impression. he has been dazzled and delighted, enlightened also by flashes; but the horizons disclosed have vanished again, and the outlook is enriched by no new vistas. then she was deficient in the higher qualities of the imagination. she could analyse, but not characterise; construct, but not create. she could take one defect like selfishness, or one passion like love, and display its workings; or she could describe a whole character, like napoleon's, with marvellous penetration; but she could not make her personages talk, or act like human beings. she lacked pathos, and had no sense of humour. in short, hers was a mind endowed with enormous powers of comprehension, and an amazing richness of ideas, but deficient in perception of beauty, in poetry, and in true originality. she was a great social personage, but her influence on literature was not destined to be lasting, because, in spite of foreseeing too much, she had not the true prophetic sense of proportion, and confused the things of the present with those of the future--the accidental with the enduring. i cannot but think that in this passage miss duffy rather underrates madame de stael's influence on the literature of the nineteenth century. it is true that she gave our literature no new form, but she was one of those who gave it a new spirit, and the romantic movement owes her no small debt. however, a biography should be read for its pictures more than for its criticisms, and miss duffy shows a remarkable narrative power, and tells with a good deal of esprit the wonderful adventures of the brilliant woman whom heine termed 'a whirlwind in petticoats.' * * * * * mr. harcourt's reprint of john evelyn's life of mrs. godolphin is a welcome addition to the list of charming library books. mr. harcourt's grandfather, the archbishop of york, himself john evelyn's great-great- grandson, inherited the manuscript from his distinguished ancestor, and in entrusted it for publication to samuel wilberforce, then bishop of oxford. as the book has been for a long time out of print, this new edition is sure to awake fresh interest in the life of the noble and virtuous lady whom john evelyn so much admired. margaret godolphin was one of the queen's maids of honour at the court of charles ii., and was distinguished for the delicate purity of her nature, as well as for her high intellectual attainments. some of the extracts evelyn gives from her diary seem to show an austere, formal, almost ascetic spirit; but it was inevitable that a nature so refined as hers should have turned in horror from such ideals of life as were presented by men like buckingham and rochester, like etheridge, killigrew, and sedley, like the king himself, to whom she could scarcely bring herself to speak. after her marriage she seems to have become happier and brighter, and her early death makes her a pathetic and interesting figure in the history of the time. evelyn can see no fault in her, and his life of her is the most wonderful of all panegyrics. * * * * * amongst the maids-of-honour mentioned by john evelyn is frances jennings, the elder sister of the great duchess of marlborough. miss jennings, who was one of the most beautiful women of her day, married first sir george hamilton, brother of the author of the memoires de grammont, and afterwards richard talbot, who was made duke of tyrconnel by james ii. william's successful occupation of ireland, where her husband was lord deputy, reduced her to poverty and obscurity, and she was probably the first peeress who ever took to millinery as a livelihood. she had a dressmaker's shop in the strand, and, not wishing to be detected, sat in a white mask and a white dress, and was known by the name of the 'white widow.' i was reminded of the duchess when i read miss emily faithfull's admirable article in gralignani on 'ladies as shopkeepers.' 'the most daring innovation in england at this moment,' says miss faithfull, 'is the lady shopkeeper. at present but few people have had the courage to brave the current social prejudice. we draw such fine distinctions between the wholesale and retail traders that our cotton-spinners, calico- makers, and general merchants seem to think that they belong to a totally different sphere, from which they look down on the lady who has had sufficient brains, capital, and courage to open a shop. but the old world moves faster than it did in former days, and before the end of the nineteenth century it is probable that a gentlewoman will be recognised in spite of her having entered on commercial pursuits, especially as we are growing accustomed to see scions of our noblest families on our stock exchange and in tea-merchants' houses; one peer of the realm is now doing an extensive business in coals, and another is a cab proprietor.' miss faithfull then proceeds to give a most interesting account of the london dairy opened by the hon. mrs. maberley, of madame isabel's millinery establishment, and of the wonderful work done by miss charlotte robinson, who has recently been appointed decorator to the queen. about three years ago, miss faithfull tells us, miss robinson came to manchester, and opened a shop in king street, and, regardless of that bugbear which terrifies most women--the loss of social status--she put up her own name over the door, and without the least self-assertion quietly entered into competition with the sterner sex. the result has been eminently satisfactory. this year miss robinson has exhibited at saltaire and at manchester, and next year she proposes to exhibit at glasgow, and, possibly, at brussels. at first she had some difficulty in making people understand that her work is really commercial, not charitable; she feels that, until a healthy public opinion is created, women will pose as 'destitute ladies,' and never take a dignified position in any calling they adopt. gentlemen who earn their own living are not spoken of as 'destitute,' and we must banish this idea in connection with ladies who are engaged in an equally honourable manner. miss faithfull concludes her most valuable article as follows: 'the more highly educated our women of business are, the better for themselves, their work, and the whole community. many of the professions to which ladies have hitherto turned are overcrowded, and when once the fear of losing social position is boldy disregarded, it will be found that commercial life offers a variety of more or less lucrative employments to ladies of birth and capital, who find it more congenial to their tastes and requirements to invest their money and spend their energies in a business which yields a fair return rather than sit at home content with a scanty pittance.' i myself entirely agree with miss faithfull, though i feel that there is something to be said in favour of the view put forward by lady shrewsbury in the woman's world, { } and a great deal to be said in favour of mrs. joyce's scheme for emigration. mr. walter besant, if we are to judge from his last novel, is of lady shrewsbury's way of thinking. * * * * * i hope that some of my readers will be interested in miss beatrice crane's little poem, blush-roses, for which her father, mr. walter crane, has done so lovely and graceful a design. mrs. simon, of birkdale park, southport, tells me that she offered a prize last term at her school for the best sonnet on any work of art. the poems were sent to professor dowden, who awarded the prize to the youthful authoress of the following sonnet on mr. watts's picture of hope: she sits with drooping form and fair bent head, low-bent to hear the faintly-sounding strain that thrills her with the sweet uncertain pain of timid trust and restful tears unshed. around she feels vast spaces. awe and dread encompass her. and the dark doubt she fain would banish, sees the shuddering fear remain, and ever presses near with stealthy tread. but not for ever will the misty space close down upon her meekly-patient eyes. the steady light within them soon will ope their heavy lids, and then the sweet fair face, uplifted in a sudden glad surprise, will find the bright reward which comes to hope. i myself am rather inclined to prefer this sonnet on mr. watts's psyche. the sixth line is deficient; but, in spite of the faulty _technique_, there is a great deal that is suggestive in it: unfathomable boundless mystery, last work of the creator, deathless, vast, soul--essence moulded of a changeful past; thou art the offspring of eternity; breath of his breath, by his vitality engendered, in his image cast, part of the nature-song whereof the last chord soundeth never in the harmony. 'psyche'! thy form is shadowed o'er with pain born of intensest longing, and the rain of a world's weeping lieth like a sea of silent soundless sorrow in thine eyes. yet grief is not eternal, for clouds rise from out the ocean everlastingly. i have to thank mr. william rossetti for kindly allowing me to reproduce dante gabriel rossetti's drawing of the authoress of goblin market; and thanks are also due to mr. lafayette, of dublin, for the use of his photograph of h.r.h. the princess of wales in her academic robes as doctor of music, which served as our frontispiece last month, and to messrs. hills and saunders, of oxford, and mr. lord and mr. blanchard, of cambridge, for a similar courtesy in the case of the article on greek plays at the universities. ( ) canute the great. by michael field. (bell and sons.) ( ) life of elizabeth gilbert. by frances martin. (macmillan and co.) ( ) ourselves and our neighbours. by louise chandler moulton. (ward and downey.) ( ) warring angels. (fisher unwin.) ( ) a song of jubilee and other poems. by mrs. de courcy laffan. (kegan paul.) ( ) life of madame de stael. by bella duffy. 'eminent women' series. ( ) life of mrs. godolphin. by john evelyn, esq., of wooton. edited by william harcourt of nuneham. (sampson low, marston and co.) the poets' corner--v (pall mall gazette, february , .) mr. heywood's salome seems to have thrilled the critics of the united states. from a collection of press notices prefixed to the volume we learn that putnam's magazine has found in it 'the simplicity and grace of naked grecian statues,' and that dr. jos. g. cogswell, ll.d., has declared that it will live to be appreciated 'as long as the english language endures.' remembering that prophecy is the most gratuitous form of error, we will not attempt to argue with dr. jos. g. cogswell, ll.d., but will content ourselves with protesting against such a detestable expression as 'naked grecian statues.' if this be the literary style of the future the english language will not endure very long. as for the poem itself, the best that one can say of it is that it is a triumph of conscientious industry. from an artistic point of view it is a very commonplace production indeed, and we must protest against such blank verse as the following: from the hour i saw her first, i was entranced, or embosomed in a charmed world, circumscribed by its proper circumambient atmosphere, herself its centre, and wide pervading spirit. the air all beauty of colour held dissolved, and tints distilled as dew are shed by heaven. mr. griffiths' sonnets and other poems are very simple, which is a good thing, and very sentimental, which is a thing not quite so good. as a general rule, his verse is full of pretty echoes of other writers, but in one sonnet he makes a distinct attempt to be original and the result is extremely depressing. earth wears her grandest robe, by autumn spun, like some stout matron who of youth has run the course, . . . is the most dreadful simile we have ever come across even in poetry. mr. griffiths should beware of originality. like beauty, it is a fatal gift. imitators of mr. browning are, unfortunately, common enough, but imitators of mr. and mrs. browning combined are so very rare that we have read mr. francis prevost's fires of green wood with great interest. here is a curious reproduction of the manner of aurora leigh: but spring! that part at least our unchaste eyes infer from some wind-blown philactery, (it wears its breast bare also)--chestnut buds, pack'd in white wool as though sent here from heaven, stretching wild stems to reach each climbing lark that shouts against the fading stars. and here is a copy of mr. browning's mannerisms. we do not like it quite so well: if another save all bother, hold that perhaps loaves grow like parsnips: call the baker heaven's care-taker, live, die; death may show him where the farce nips. not i; truly he may duly into church or church-day shunt god; chink his pocket, win your locket;-- down we go together to confront god. yet, in spite of these ingenious caricatures there are some good poems, or perhaps we should say some good passages, in mr. prevost's volume. the whitening of the thorn-tree, for instance, opens admirably, and is, in some respects, a rather remarkable story. we have no doubt that some day mr. prevost will be able to study the great masters without stealing from them. mr. john cameron grant has christened himself 'england's empire poet,' and, lest we should have any doubts upon the subject, tells us that he 'dare not lie,' a statement which in a poet seems to show a great want of courage. protection and paper-unionism are the gods of mr. grant's idolatry, and his verse is full of such fine fallacies and masterly misrepresentations that he should be made laureate to the primrose league at once. such a stanza as-- ask the ruined sugar-worker if he loves the foreign beet-- rather, one can hear him answer, would i see my children eat-- would thrill any tory tea-party in the provinces, and it would be difficult for the advocates of coercion to find a more appropriate or a more characteristic peroration for a stump speech than we have not to do with justice, right depends on point of view, the one question for our thought is, what's our neighbour going to do. the hymn to the union jack, also, would make a capital leaflet for distribution in boroughs where the science of heraldry is absolutely unknown, and the sonnet on mr. gladstone is sure to be popular with all who admire violence and vulgarity in literature. it is quite worthy of thersites at his best. mr. evans's caesar borgia is a very tedious tragedy. some of the passages are in the true 'ercles' vein,' like the following: caesar (starting up). help, michelotto, help! begone! begone! fiends! torments! devils! gandia! what, gandia? o turn those staring eyes away. see! see he bleeds to death! o fly! who are those fiends that tug me by the throat? o! o! o! o! (pauses.) but, as a rule, the style is of a more commonplace character. the other poems in the volume are comparatively harmless, though it is sad to find shakespeare's 'bacchus with pink eyne' reappearing as 'pinky-eyed silenus.' the cross and the grail is a collection of poems on the subject of temperance. compared to real poetry these verses are as 'water unto wine,' but no doubt this was the effect intended. the illustrations are quite dreadful, especially one of an angel appearing to a young man from chicago who seems to be drinking brown sherry. juvenal in piccadilly and the excellent mystery are two fierce social satires and, like most satires, they are the product of the corruption they pillory. the first is written on a very convenient principle. blank spaces are left for the names of the victims and these the reader can fill up as he wishes. must--bluster,--give the lie, --wear the night out,--sneer! is an example of this anonymous method. it does not seem to us very effective. the excellent mystery is much better. it is full of clever epigrammatic lines, and its wit fully atones for its bitterness. it is hardly a poem to quote but it is certainly a poem to read. the chronicle of mites is a mock-heroic poem about the inhabitants of a decaying cheese who speculate about the origin of their species and hold learned discussions upon the meaning of evolution and the gospel according to darwin. this cheese-epic is a rather unsavoury production and the style is at times so monstrous and so realistic that the author should be called the gorgon-zola of literature. ( ) salome. by j. c. heywood. (kegan paul.) ( ) sonnets and other poems. by william griffiths. (digby and long.) ( ) fires of green wood. by francis prevost. (kegan paul.) ( ) vanclin and other verses. by john cameron grant. (e. w. allen.) ( ) caesar borgia. by w. evans, m.a. (william maxwell and son.) ( ) the cross and the grail. (women's temperance association, chicago.) ( ) juvenal in piccadilly. by oxoniensis. (vizetelly and co.) ( ) the excellent mystery: a matrimonial satire. by lord pimlico. (vizetelly and co.) ( ) the chronicle of mites. by james aitchison. (kegan paul.) venus or victory (pall mall gazette, february , .) there are certain problems in archaeology that seem to possess a real romantic interest, and foremost among these is the question of the so- called venus of melos. who is she, this marble mutilated goddess whom gautier loved, to whom heine bent his knee? what sculptor wrought her, and for what shrine? whose hands walled her up in that rude niche where the melian peasant found her? what symbol of her divinity did she carry? was it apple of gold or shield of bronze? where is her city and what was her name among gods and men? the last writer on this fascinating subject is mr. stillman, who in a most interesting book recently published in america, claims that the work of art in question is no sea-born and foam- born aphrodite, but the very victory without wings that once stood in the little chapel outside the gates of the acropolis at athens. so long ago as , that is to say six years after the discovery of the statue, the venus hypothesis was violently attacked by millingen, and from that time to this the battle of the archaeologists has never ceased. mr. stillman, who fights, of course, under millingen's banner, points out that the statue is not of the venus type at all, being far too heroic in character to correspond to the greek conception of aphrodite at any period of their artistic development, but that it agrees distinctly with certain well- known statues of victory, such as the celebrated 'victory of brescia.' the latter is in bronze, is later, and has the wings, but the type is unmistakable, and though not a reproduction it is certainly a recollection of the melian statue. the representation of victory on the coin of agathocles is also obviously of the melian type, and in the museum of naples is a terra-cotta victory in almost the identical action and drapery. as for dumont d'urville's statement that, when the statue was discovered, one hand held an apple and the other a fold of the drapery, the latter is obviously a mistake, and the whole evidence on the subject is so contradictory that no reliance can be placed on the statement made by the french consul and the french naval officers, none of whom seems to have taken the trouble to ascertain whether the arm and hand now in the louvre were really found in the same niche as the statue at all. at any rate, these fragments seem to be of extremely inferior workmanship, and they are so imperfect that they are quite worthless as data for measure or opinion. so far, mr. stillman is on old ground. his real artistic discovery is this. in working about the acropolis of athens, some years ago, he photographed among other sculptures the mutilated victories in the temple of nike apteros, the 'wingless victory,' the little ionic temple in which stood that statue of victory of which it was said that '_the athenians made her without wings that she might never leave athens_.' looking over the photographs afterwards, when the impression of the comparatively diminutive size had passed, he was struck with the close resemblance of the type to that of the melian statue. now, this resemblance is so striking that it cannot be questioned by any one who has an eye for form. there are the same large heroic proportions, the same ampleness of physical development, and the same treatment of drapery, and there is also that perfect spiritual kinship which, to any true antiquarian, is one of the most valuable modes of evidence. now it is generally admitted on both sides that the melian statue is probably attic in its origin, and belongs certainly to the period between phidias and praxiteles, that is to say, to the age of scopas, if it be not actually the work of scopas himself; and as it is to scopas that these bas-reliefs have been always attributed, the similarity of style can, on mr. stillman's hypothesis, be easily accounted for. as regards the appearance of the statue in melos, mr. stillman points out that melos belonged to athens as late as she had any greek allegiance, and that it is probable that the statue was sent there for concealment on the occasion of some siege or invasion. when this took place, mr. stillman does not pretend to decide with any degree of certainty, but it is evident that it must have been subsequent to the establishment of the roman hegemony, as the brickwork of the niche in which the statue was found is clearly roman in character, and before the time of pausanias and pliny, as neither of these antiquaries mentions the statue. accepting, then, the statue as that of the victory without wings, mr. stillman agrees with millingen in supposing that in her left hand she held a bronze shield, the lower rim of which rested on the left knee where some marks of the kind are easily recognisable, while with her right hand she traced, or had just finished tracing, the names of the great heroes of athens. valentin's objection, that if this were so the left thigh would incline outwards so as to secure a balance, mr. stillman meets partly by the analogy of the victory of brescia and partly by the evidence of nature herself; for he has had a model photographed in the same position as the statue and holding a shield in the manner he proposes in his restoration. the result is precisely the contrary to that which valentin assumes. of course, mr. stillman's solution of the whole matter must not be regarded as an absolutely scientific demonstration. it is simply an induction in which a kind of artistic instinct, not communicable or equally valuable to all people, has had the greatest part, but to this mode of interpretation archaeologists as a class have been far too indifferent; and it is certain that in the present case it has given us a theory which is most fruitful and suggestive. the little temple of nike apteros has had, as mr. stillman reminds us, a destiny unique of its kind. like the parthenon, it was standing little more than two hundred years ago, but during the turkish occupation it was razed, and its stones all built into the great bastion which covered the front of the acropolis and blocked up the staircase to the propylaea. it was dug out and restored, nearly every stone in its place, by two german architects during the reign of otho, and it stands again just as pausanias described it on the spot where old aegeus watched for the return of theseus from crete. in the distance are salamis and aegina, and beyond the purple hills lies marathon. if the melian statue be indeed the victory without wings, she had no unworthy shrine. there are some other interesting essays in mr. stillman's book on the wonderful topographical knowledge of ithaca displayed in the odyssey, and discussions of this kind are always interesting as long as there is no attempt to represent homer as the ordinary literary man; but the article on the melian statue is by far the most important and the most delightful. some people will, no doubt, regret the possibility of the disappearance of the old name, and as venus not as victory will still worship the stately goddess, but there are others who will be glad to see in her the image and ideal of that spiritual enthusiasm to which athens owed her liberty, and by which alone can liberty be won. on the track of ulysses; together with an excursion in quest of the so- called venus of melos. by w. j. stillman. (houghton, mifflin and co., boston.) literary and other notes--v (woman's world, march .) the princess emily ruete of oman and zanzibar, whose efforts to introduce women doctors into the east are so well known, has just published a most interesting account of her life, under the title of memoirs of an arabian princess. the princess is the daughter of the celebrated sejid said, imam of mesket and sultan of zanzibar, and her long residence in germany has given her the opportunity of comparing eastern with western civilisation. she writes in a very simple and unaffected manner; and though she has many grievances against her brother, the present sultan (who seems never to have forgiven her for her conversion to christianity and her marriage with a german subject), she has too much tact, esprit, and good humour to trouble her readers with any dreary record of family quarrels and domestic differences. her book throws a great deal of light on the question of the position of women in the east, and shows that much of what has been written on this subject is quite inaccurate. one of the most curious passages is that in which the princess gives an account of her mother: my mother was a circassian by birth, who in early youth had been torn away from her home. her father had been a farmer, and she had always lived peacefully with her parents and her little brother and sister. war broke out suddenly, and the country was overrun by marauding bands. on their approach, the family fled into an underground place, as my mother called it--she probably meant a cellar, which is not known in zanzibar. their place of refuge was, however, invaded by a merciless horde, the parents were slain, and the children carried off by three mounted arnauts. she came into my father's possession when quite a child, probably at the tender age of seven or eight years, as she cast her first tooth in our house. she was at once adopted as playmate by two of my sisters, her own age, with whom she was educated and brought up. together with them she learnt to read, which raised her a good deal above her equals, who, as a rule, became members of our family at the age of sixteen or eighteen years, or older still, when they had outgrown whatever taste they might once have had for schooling. she could scarcely be called pretty; but she was tall and shapely, had black eyes, and hair down to her knees. of a very gentle disposition, her greatest pleasure consisted in assisting other people, in looking after and nursing any sick person in the house; and i well remember her going about with her books from one patient to another, reading prayers to them. she was in great favour with my father, who never refused her anything, though she interceded mostly for others; and when she came to see him, he always rose to meet her half-way--a distinction he conferred but very rarely. she was as kind and pious as she was modest, and in all her dealings frank and open. she had another daughter besides myself, who had died quite young. her mental powers were not great, but she was very clever at needlework. she had always been a tender and loving mother to me, but this did not hinder her from punishing me severely when she deemed it necessary. she had many friends at bet-il-mtoni, which is rarely to be met with in an arab harem. she had the most unshaken and firmest trust in god. when i was about five years old, i remember a fire breaking out in the stables close by, one night while my father was at his city residence. a false alarm spread over the house that we, too, were in imminent danger; upon which the good woman hastened to take me on her arm, and her big kuran (we pronounce the word thus) on the other, and hurried into the open air. on the rest of her possessions she set no value in this hour of danger. here is a description of schesade, the sultan's second legitimate wife: she was a persian princess of entrancing beauty, and of inordinate extravagance. her little retinue was composed of one hundred and fifty cavaliers, all persians, who lived on the ground floor; with them she hunted and rode in the broad day--rather contrary to arab notions. the persian women are subjected to quite a spartan training in bodily exercise; they enjoy great liberty, much more so than arab women, but they are also more rude in mind and action. schesade is said to have carried on her extravagant style of life beyond bounds; her dresses, cut always after the persian fashion, were literally covered with embroideries of pearls. a great many of these were picked up nearly every morning by the servants in her rooms, where she had dropped them from her garments, but the princess would never take any of these precious jewels back again. she did not only drain my father's exchequer most wantonly, but violated many of our sacred laws; in fact, she had only married him for his high station and wealth, and had loved some one else all the time. such a state of things could, of course, only end in a divorce; fortunately schesade had no children of her own. there is a rumour still current among us that beautiful schesade was observed, some years after this event, when my father carried on war in persia, and had the good fortune of taking the fortress of bender abbas on the persian gulf, heading her troops, and taking aim at the members of our family herself. another of the remarkable women mentioned by the princess was her stepmother, azze-bint-zef, who seems to have completely ruled the sultan, and to have settled all questions of home and foreign policy; while her great-aunt, the princess asche, was regent of the empire during the sultan's minority, and was the heroine of the siege of mesket. of her the princess gives the following account: dressed in man's clothes, she inspected the outposts herself at night, she watched and encouraged the soldiers in all exposed places, and was saved several times only by the speed of her horse in unforeseen attacks. one night she rode out, oppressed with care, having just received information that the enemy was about to attempt an entrance into the city by means of bribery that night, and with intent to massacre all; and now she went to convince herself of the loyalty of her troops. very cautiously she rode up to a guard, requesting to speak to the 'akid' (the officer in charge), and did all in her power to seduce him from his duty by great offers of reward on the part of the besiegers. the indignation of the brave man, however, completely allayed her fears as to the fidelity of the troops, but the experiment nearly cost her her own life. the soldiers were about to massacre the supposed spy on the spot, and it required all her presence of mind to make good her escape. the situation grew, however, to be very critical at mesket. famine at last broke out, and the people were well-nigh distracted, as no assistance or relief could be expected from without. it was therefore decided to attempt a last sortie in order to die at least with glory. there was just sufficient powder left for one more attack, but there was no more lead for either guns or muskets. in this emergency the regent ordered iron nails and pebbles to be used in place of balls. the guns were loaded with all the old iron and brass that could be collected, and she opened her treasury to have bullets made out of her own silver dollars. every nerve was strained, and the sally succeeded beyond all hope. the enemy was completely taken by surprise and fled in all directions, leaving more than half their men dead and wounded on the field. mesket was saved, and, delivered out of her deep distress, the brave woman knelt down on the battlefield and thanked god in fervent prayer. from that time her government was a peaceful one, and she ruled so wisely that she was able to transfer to her nephew, my father, an empire so unimpaired as to place him in a position to extend the empire by the conquest of zanzibar. it is to my great-aunt, therefore, that we owe, and not to an inconsiderable degree, the acquisition of this second empire. she, too, was an eastern woman! all through her book the princess protests against the idea that oriental women are degraded or oppressed, and in the following passage she points out how difficult it is for foreigners to get any real information on the subject: the education of the children is left entirely to the mother, whether she be legitimate wife or purchased slave, and it constitutes her chief happiness. some fashionable mothers in europe shift this duty on to the nurse, and, by-and-by, on the governess, and are quite satisfied with looking up their children, or receiving their visits, once a day. in france the child is sent to be nursed in the country, and left to the care of strangers. an arab mother, on the other hand, looks continually after her children. she watches and nurses them with the greatest affection, and never leaves them as long as they may stand in need of her motherly care, for which she is rewarded by the fondest filial love. if foreigners had more frequent opportunities to observe the cheerfulness, the exuberance of spirits even, of eastern women, they would soon and more easily be convinced of the untruth of all those stories afloat about the degraded, oppressed, and listless state of their life. it is impossible to gain a true insight into the actual domesticity in a few moments' visit; and the conversation carried on, on those formal occasions, hardly deserves that name; there is barely more than the exchange of a few commonplace remarks--and it is questionable if even these have been correctly interpreted. notwithstanding his innate hospitality, the arab has the greatest possible objection to having his home pried into by those of another land and creed. whenever, therefore, a european lady called on us, the enormous circumference of her hoops (which were the fashion then, and took up the entire width of the stairs) was the first thing to strike us dumb with wonder; after which, the very meagre conversation generally confined itself on both sides to the mysteries of different costumes; and the lady retired as wise as she was when she came, after having been sprinkled over with attar of roses, and being the richer for some parting presents. it is true she had entered a harem; she had seen the much-pitied oriental ladies (though only through their veils); she had with her own eyes seen our dresses, our jewellery, the nimbleness with which we sat down on the floor--and that was all. she could not boast of having seen more than any other foreign lady who had called before her. she is conducted upstairs and downstairs, and is watched all the time. rarely she sees more than the reception-room, and more rarely still can she guess or find out who the veiled lady is with whom she conversed. in short, she has had no opportunity whatsoever of learning anything of domestic life, or the position of eastern women. no one who is interested in the social position of women in the east should fail to read these pleasantly-written memoirs. the princess is herself a woman of high culture, and the story of her life is as instructive as history and as fascinating as fiction. * * * * * mrs. oliphant's makers of venice is an admirable literary pendant to the same writer's charming book on florence, though there is a wide difference between the beautiful tuscan city and the sea-city of the adriatic. florence, as mrs. oliphant points out, is a city full of memories of the great figures of the past. the traveller cannot pass along her streets without treading in the very traces of dante, without stepping on soil made memorable by footprints never to be effaced. the greatness of the surroundings, the palaces, churches, and frowning mediaeval castles in the midst of the city, are all thrown into the background by the greatness, the individuality, the living power and vigour of the men who are their originators, and at the same time their inspiring soul. but when we turn to venice the effect is very different. we do not think of the makers of that marvellous city, but rather of what they made. the idealised image of venice herself meets us everywhere. the mother is not overshadowed by the too great glory of any of her sons. in her records the city is everything--the republic, the worshipped ideal of a community in which every man for the common glory seems to have been willing to sink his own. we know that dante stood within the red walls of the arsenal, and saw the galleys making and mending, and the pitch flaming up to heaven; petrarch came to visit the great mistress of the sea, taking refuge there, 'in this city, true home of the human race,' from trouble, war and pestilence outside; and byron, with his facile enthusiasms and fervent eloquence, made his home for a time in one of the stately, decaying palaces; but with these exceptions no great poet has ever associated himself with the life of venice. she had architects, sculptors and painters, but no singer of her own. the arts through which she gave her message to the world were visible and imitative. mrs. oliphant, in her bright, picturesque style, tells the story of venice pleasantly and well. her account of the two bellinis is especially charming; and the chapters on titian and tintoret are admirably written. she concludes her interesting and useful history with the following words, which are well worthy of quotation, though i must confess that the 'alien modernisms' trouble me not a little: the critics of recent days have had much to say as to the deterioration of venice in her new activity, and the introduction of alien modernisms, in the shape of steamboats and other new industrial agents, into her canals and lagoons. but in this adoption of every new development of power, venice is only proving herself the most faithful representative of the vigorous republic of old. whatever prejudice or angry love may say, we cannot doubt that the michiels, the dandolos, the foscari, the great rulers who formed venice, had steamboats existed in their day, serving their purpose better than their barges and peati, would have adopted them without hesitation, without a thought of what any critics might say. the wonderful new impulse which has made italy a great power has justly put strength and life before those old traditions of beauty, which made her not only the 'woman country' of europe, but a sort of odalisque trading upon her charms, rather than the nursing mother of a noble and independent nation. that in her recoil from that somewhat degrading position, she may here and there have proved too regardless of the claims of antiquity, we need not attempt to deny; the new spring of life in her is too genuine and great to keep her entirely free from this evident danger. but it is strange that any one who loves italy, and sincerely rejoices in her amazing resurrection, should fail to recognise how venial is this fault. miss mabel robinson's last novel, the plan of campaign, is a very powerful study of modern political life. as a concession to humanity, each of the politicians is made to fall in love, and the charm of their various romances fully atones for the soundness of the author's theory of rent. miss robinson dissects, describes, and discourses with keen scientific insight and minute observation. her style, though somewhat lacking in grace, is, at its best, simple and strong. richard talbot and elinor fetherston are admirably conceived and admirably drawn, and the whole account of the murder of lord roeglass is most dramatic. a year in eden, by harriet waters preston, is a chronicle of new england life, and is full of the elaborate subtlety of the american school of fiction. the eden in question is the little village of pierpont, and the eve of this provincial paradise is a beautiful girl called monza middleton, a fascinating, fearless creature, who brings ruin and misery on all who love her. miss preston writes an admirable prose style, and the minor characters in the book are wonderfully lifelike and true. the englishwoman's year-book contains a really extraordinary amount of useful information on every subject connected with woman's work. in the census taken in (six years before the queen ascended the throne), no occupation whatever was specified as appertaining to women, except that of domestic service; but in the census of , the number of occupations mentioned as followed by women is upwards of three hundred and thirty. the most popular occupations seem to be those of domestic service, school teaching, and dressmaking; the lowest numbers on the list are those of bankers, gardeners, and persons engaged in scientific pursuits. besides these, the year-book makes mention of stockbroking and conveyancing as professions that women are beginning to adopt. the historical account of the literary work done by englishwomen in this century, as given in the year-book, is curiously inadequate, and the list of women's magazines is not complete, but in all other respects the publication seems a most useful and excellent one. * * * * * wordsworth, in one of his interesting letters to lady beaumont, says that it is 'an awful truth that there neither is nor can be any genuine enjoyment of poetry among nineteen out of twenty of those persons who live or wish to live in the broad light of the world--among those who either are, or are striving to make themselves, people of consideration in society,' adding that the mission of poetry is 'to console the afflicted; to add sunshine to daylight by making the happy happier; to teach the young and the gracious of every age to see, to think, and feel, and, therefore, to become more actively and securely virtuous.' i am, however, rather disposed to think that the age in which we live is one that has a very genuine enjoyment of poetry, though we may no longer agree with wordsworth's ideas on the subject of the poet's proper mission; and it is interesting to note that this enjoyment manifests itself by creation even more than by criticism. to realise the popularity of the great poets, one should turn to the minor poets and see whom they follow, what master they select, whose music they echo. at present, there seems to be a reaction in favour of lord tennyson, if we are to judge by rachel and other poems, which is a rather remarkable little volume in its way. the poem that gives its title to the book is full of strong lines and good images; and, in spite of its tennysonian echoes, there is something attractive in such verses as the following: day by day along the orient faintly glows the tender dawn, day by day the pearly dewdrops tremble on the upland lawn: day by day the star of morning pales before the coming ray, and the first faint streak of radiance brightens to the perfect day. day by day the rosebud gathers to itself, from earth and sky, fragrant stores and ampler beauty, lovelier form and deeper dye: day by day a richer crimson mantles in its glowing breast-- every golden hour conferring some sweet grace that crowns the rest. and thou canst not tell the moment when the day ascends her throne, when the morning star hath vanished, and the rose is fully blown. so each day fulfils its purpose, calm, unresting, strong, and sure, moving onward to completion, doth the work of god endure. how unlike man's toil and hurry! how unlike the noise, the strife, all the pain of incompleteness, all the weariness of life! ye look upward and take courage. he who leads the golden hours, feeds the birds, and clothes the lily, made these human hearts of ours: knows their need, and will supply it, manna falling day by day, bread from heaven, and food of angels, all along the desert way. the secretary of the international technical college at bedford has issued a most interesting prospectus of the aims and objects of the institution. the college seems to be intended chiefly for ladies who have completed their ordinary course of english studies, and it will be divided into two departments, educational and industrial. in the latter, classes will be held for various decorative and technical arts, and for wood-carving, etching, and photography, as well as sick-nursing, dressmaking, cookery, physiology, poultry-rearing, and the cultivation of flowers. the curriculum certainly embraces a wonderful amount of subjects, and i have no doubt that the college will supply a real want. * * * * * the ladies' employment society has been so successful that it has moved to new premises in park street, grosvenor square, where there are some very pretty and useful things for sale. the children's smocks are quite charming, and seem very inexpensive. the subscription to the society is one guinea a year, and a commission of five per cent. is charged on each thing sold. * * * * * miss may morris, whose exquisite needle-work is well known, has just completed a pair of curtains for a house in boston. they are amongst the most perfect specimens of modern embroidery that i have seen, and are from miss morris's own design. i am glad to hear that miss morris has determined to give lessons in embroidery. she has a thorough knowledge of the art, her sense of beauty is as rare as it is refined, and her power of design is quite remarkable. mrs. jopling's life-classes for ladies have been such a success that a similar class has been started in chelsea by mr. clegg wilkinson at the carlyle studios, king's road. mr. wilkinson (who is a very brilliant young painter) is strongly of opinion that life should be studied from life itself, and not from that abstract presentation of life which we find in greek marbles--a position which i have always held very strongly myself. ( ) memoirs of an arabian princess. by the princess emily ruete of oman and zanzibar. (ward and downey.) ( ) makers of venice. by mrs. oliphant. (macmillan and co.) ( ) the plan of campaign. by mabel robinson. (vizetelly and co.) ( ) a year in eden. by harriet waters preston. (fisher unwin.) ( ) the englishwoman's year-book, . (hatchards.) ( ) rachel and other poems. (cornish brothers.) the poets' corner--vi (pall mall gazette, april , .) david westren, by mr. alfred hayes, is a long narrative poem in tennysonian blank verse, a sort of serious novel set to music. it is somewhat lacking in actuality, and the picturesque style in which it is written rather contributes to this effect, lending the story beauty but robbing it of truth. still, it is not without power, and cultured verse is certainly a pleasanter medium for story-telling than coarse and common prose. the hero of the poem is a young clergyman of the muscular christian school: a lover of good cheer; a bubbling source of jest and tale; a monarch of the gun; a dreader tyrant of the darting trout than that bright bird whose azure lightning threads the brooklet's bowery windings; the red fox did well to seek the boulder-strewn hill-side, when westren cheered her dappled foes; the otter had cause to rue the dawn when westren's form loomed through the streaming bracken, to waylay her late return from plunder, the rough pack barking a jealous welcome round their friend. one day he meets on the river a lovely girl who is angling, and helps her to land a gallant fish, all flashing in the sun in silver mail inlaid with scarlet gems, his back thick-sprinkled as a leopard's hide with rich brown spots, and belly of bright gold. they naturally fall in love with each other and marry, and for many years david westren leads a perfectly happy life. suddenly calamity comes upon him, his wife and children die and he finds himself alone and desolate. then begins his struggle. like job, he cries out against the injustice of things, and his own personal sorrow makes him realise the sorrow and misery of the world. but the answer that satisfied job does not satisfy him. he finds no comfort in contemplating leviathan: as if we lacked reminding of brute force, as if we never felt the clumsy hoof, as if the bulk of twenty million whales were worth one pleading soul, or all the laws that rule the lifeless suns could soothe the sense of outrage in a loving human heart! sublime? majestic? ay, but when our trust totters, and faith is shattered to the base, grand words will not uprear it. mr. hayes states the problem of life extremely well, but his solution is sadly inadequate both from a psychological and from a dramatic point of view. david westren ultimately becomes a mild unitarian, a sort of pastoral stopford brooke with leanings towards positivism, and we leave him preaching platitudes to a village congregation. however, in spite of this commonplace conclusion there is a great deal in mr. hayes's poem that is strong and fine, and he undoubtedly possesses a fair ear for music and a remarkable faculty of poetical expression. some of his descriptive touches of nature, such as in meeting woods, whereon a film of mist slept like the bloom upon the purple grape, are very graceful and suggestive, and he will probably make his mark in literature. there is much that is fascinating in mr. rennell rodd's last volume, the unknown madonna and other poems. mr. rodd looks at life with all the charming optimism of a young man, though he is quite conscious of the fact that a stray note of melancholy, here and there, has an artistic as well as a popular value; he has a keen sense of the pleasurableness of colour, and his verse is distinguished by a certain refinement and purity of outline; though not passionate he can play very prettily with the words of passion, and his emotions are quite healthy and quite harmless. in excelsis, the most ambitious poem in the book, is somewhat too abstract and metaphysical, and such lines as lift thee o'er thy 'here' and 'now,' look beyond thine 'i' and 'thou,' are excessively tedious. but when mr. rodd leaves the problem of the unconditioned to take care of itself, and makes no attempt to solve the mysteries of the ego and the non-ego, he is very pleasant reading indeed. a mazurka of chopin is charming, in spite of the awkwardness of the fifth line, and so are the verses on assisi, and those on san servolo at venice. these last have all the brilliancy of a clever pastel. the prettiest thing in the whole volume is this little lyric on spring: such blue of sky, so palely fair, such glow of earth, such lucid air! such purple on the mountain lines, such deep new verdure in the pines! the live light strikes the broken towers, the crocus bulbs burst into flowers, the sap strikes up the black vine stock, and the lizard wakes in the splintered rock, and the wheat's young green peeps through the sod, and the heart is touched with a thought of god; the very silence seems to sing, it must be spring, it must be spring! we do not care for 'palely fair' in the first line, and the repetition of the word 'strikes' is not very felicitous, but the grace of movement and delicacy of touch are pleasing. the wind, by mr. james ross, is a rather gusty ode, written apparently without any definite scheme of metre, and not very impressive as it lacks both the strength of the blizzard and the sweetness of zephyr. here is the opening: the roaming, tentless wind no rest can ever find-- from east, and west, and south, and north he is for ever driven forth! from the chill east where fierce hyaenas seek their awful feast: from the warm west, by beams of glitt'ring summer blest. nothing could be much worse than this, and if the line 'where fierce hyaenas seek their awful feast' is intended to frighten us, it entirely misses its effect. the ode is followed by some sonnets which are destined, we fear, to be ludibria ventis. immortality, even in the nineteenth century, is not granted to those who rhyme 'awe' and 'war' together. mr. isaac sharp's saul of tarsus is an interesting, and, in some respects, a fine poem. saul of tarsus, silently, with a silent company, to damascus' gates drew nigh. * * * * * and his eyes, too, and his mien were, as are the eagles, keen; all the man was aquiline-- are two strong, simple verses, and indeed the spirit of the whole poem is dignified and stately. the rest of the volume, however, is disappointing. ordinary theology has long since converted its gold into lead, and words and phrases that once touched the heart of the world have become wearisome and meaningless through repetition. if theology desires to move us, she must re-write her formulas. there is something very pleasant in coming across a poet who can apostrophise byron as transcendent star that gems the firmament of poesy, and can speak of longfellow as a 'mighty titan.' reckless panegyrics of this kind show a kindly nature and a good heart, and mr. mackenzie's highland daydreams could not possibly offend any one. it must be admitted that they are rather old-fashioned, but this is usually the case with natural spontaneous verse. it takes a great artist to be thoroughly modern. nature is always a little behind the age. the story of the cross, an attempt to versify the gospel narratives, is a strange survival of the tate and brady school of poetry. mr. nash, who styles himself 'a humble soldier in the army of faith,' expresses a hope that his book may 'invigorate devotional feeling, especially among the young, to whom verse is perhaps more attractive than to their elders,' but we should be sorry to think that people of any age could admire such a paraphrase as the following: foxes have holes, in which to slink for rest, the birds of air find shelter in the nest; but he, the son of man and lord of all, has no abiding place his own to call. it is a curious fact that the worst work is always done with the best intentions, and that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves very seriously. ( ) david westren. by alfred hayes, m.a. new coll., oxon. (birmingham: cornish brothers.) ( ) the unknown madonna and other poems. by rennell rodd. (david stott.) ( ) the wind and six sonnets. by james ross. (bristol: j. w. arrowsmith.) ( ) saul of tarsus. by isaac sharp. (kegan paul.) ( ) highland daydreams. by george mackenzie. (inverness: office of the northern chronicle.) ( ) the story of the cross. by charles nash. (elliot stock.) m. caro on george sand (pall mall gazette, april , .) the biography of a very great man from the pen of a very ladylike writer--this is the best description we can give of m. caro's life of george sand. the late professor of the sorbonne could chatter charmingly about culture, and had all the fascinating insincerity of an accomplished phrase-maker; being an extremely superior person he had a great contempt for democracy and its doings, but he was always popular with the duchesses of the faubourg, as there was nothing in history or in literature that he could not explain away for their edification; having never done anything remarkable he was naturally elected a member of the academy, and he always remained loyal to the traditions of that thoroughly respectable and thoroughly pretentious institution. in fact, he was just the sort of man who should never have attempted to write a life of george sand or to interpret george sand's genius. he was too feminine to appreciate the grandeur of that large womanly nature, too much of a dilettante to realise the masculine force of that strong and ardent mind. he never gets at the secret of george sand, and never brings us near to her wonderful personality. he looks on her simply as a litterateur, as a writer of pretty stories of country life and of charming, if somewhat exaggerated, romances. but george sand was much more than this. beautiful as are such books as consuelo and mauprat, francois le champi and la mare au diable, yet in none of them is she adequately expressed, by none of them is she adequately revealed. as mr. matthew arnold said, many years ago, 'we do not know george sand unless we feel the spirit which goes through her work as a whole.' with this spirit, however, m. caro has no sympathy. madame sand's doctrines are antediluvian, he tells us, her philosophy is quite dead and her ideas of social regeneration are utopian, incoherent and absurd. the best thing for us to do is to forget these silly dreams and to read teverino and le secretaire intime. poor m. caro! this spirit, which he treats with such airy flippancy, is the very leaven of modern life. it is remoulding the world for us and fashioning our age anew. if it is antediluvian, it is so because the deluge is yet to come; if it is utopian, then utopia must be added to our geographies. to what curious straits m. caro is driven by his violent prejudices may be estimated by the fact that he tries to class george sand's novels with the old chansons de geste, the stories of adventure characteristic of primitive literatures; whereas in using fiction as a vehicle of thought, and romance as a means of influencing the social ideals of her age, george sand was merely carrying out the traditions of voltaire and rousseau, of diderot and of chateaubriand. the novel, says m. caro, must be allied either to poetry or to science. that it has found in philosophy one of its strongest allies seems not to have occurred to him. in an english critic such a view might possibly be excusable. our greatest novelists, such as fielding, scott and thackeray cared little for the philosophy of their age. but coming, as it does, from a french critic, the statement seems to show a strange want of recognition of one of the most important elements of french fiction. nor, even in the narrow limits that he has imposed upon himself, can m. caro be said to be a very fortunate or felicitous critic. to take merely one instance out of many, he says nothing of george sand's delightful treatment of art and the artist's life. and yet how exquisitely does she analyse each separate art and present it to us in its relation to life! in consuelo she tells us of music; in horace of authorship; in le chateau des desertes of acting; in les maitres mosaistes of mosaic work; in le chateau de pictordu of portrait painting; and in la daniella of the painting of landscape. what mr. ruskin and mr. browning have done for england she did for france. she invented an art literature. it is unnecessary, however, to discuss any of m. caro's minor failings, for the whole effect of the book, so far as it attempts to portray for us the scope and character of george sand's genius, is entirely spoiled by the false attitude assumed from the beginning, and though the dictum may seem to many harsh and exclusive, we cannot help feeling that an absolute incapacity for appreciating the spirit of a great writer is no qualification for writing a treatise on the subject. as for madame sand's private life, which is so intimately connected with her art (for, like goethe, she had to live her romances before she could write them), m. caro says hardly anything about it. he passes it over with a modesty that almost makes one blush, and for fear of wounding the susceptibilities of those grandes dames whose passions m. paul bourget analyses with such subtlety, he transforms her mother, who was a typical french grisette, into 'a very amiable and spirituelle milliner'! it must be admitted that joseph surface himself could hardly show greater tact and delicacy, though we ourselves must plead guilty to preferring madame sand's own description of her as an 'enfant du vieux pave de paris.' as regards the english version, which is by m. gustave masson, it may be up to the intellectual requirements of the harrow schoolboys, but it will hardly satisfy those who consider that accuracy, lucidity and ease are essential to a good translation. its carelessness is absolutely astounding, and it is difficult to understand how a publisher like mr. routledge could have allowed such a piece of work to issue from his press. 'il descend avec le sourire d'un machiavel' appears as 'he descends into the smile of a machiavelli'; george sand's remark to flaubert about literary style, 'tu la consideres comme un but, elle n'est qu'un effet' is translated 'you consider it an end, it is merely an effort'; and such a simple phrase as 'ainsi le veut festhe'tique du roman' is converted into 'so the aesthetes of the world would have it.' 'il faudra relacher mes economies' is 'i will have to draw upon my savings,' not 'my economies will assuredly be relaxed'; 'cassures resineuses' is not 'cleavages full of rosin,' and 'mme. sand ne reussit que deux fois' is hardly 'madame sand was not twice successful.' 'querelles d'ecole' does not mean 'school disputations'; 'ceux qui se font une sorte d'esthetique de l'indifference absolue' is not 'those of which the aesthetics seem to be an absolute indifference'; 'chimere' should not be translated 'chimera,' nor 'lettres ineditees' 'inedited letters'; 'ridicules' means absurdities, not 'ridicules,' and 'qui pourra definir sa pensee?' is not 'who can clearly despise her thought?' m. masson comes to grief over even such a simple sentence as 'elle s'etonna des fureurs qui accueillirent ce livre, ne comprenant pas que l'on haisse un auteur a travers son oeuvre,' which he translates 'she was surprised at the storm which greeted this book, _not understanding that the author is hated through his work_.' then, passing over such phrases as 'substituted by religion' instead of 'replaced by religion,' and 'vulgarisation' where 'popularisation' is meant, we come to that most irritating form of translation, the literal word-for-word style. the stream 'excites itself by the declivity which it obeys' is one of m. masson's finest achievements in this genre, and it is an admirable instance of the influence of schoolboys on their masters. however, it would be tedious to make a complete 'catalogue of slips,' so we will content ourselves by saying that m. masson's translation is not merely quite unworthy of himself, but is also quite undeserved by the public. nowadays, the public has its feelings. george sand. by the late elme marie caro. translated by gustave masson, b.a., assistant master, harrow school. 'great french writers' series. (routledge and sons.) the poets' corner--vii (pall mall gazette, october , .) mr. ian hamilton's ballad of hadji is undeniably clever. hadji is a wonderful arab horse that a reckless hunter rides to death in the pursuit of a wild boar, and the moral of the poem--for there is a moral--seems to be that an absorbing passion is a very dangerous thing and blunts the human sympathies. in the course of the chase a little child is drowned, a brahmin maiden murdered, and an aged peasant severely wounded, but the hunter cares for none of these things and will not hear of stopping to render any assistance. some of the stanzas are very graceful, notably one beginning yes--like a bubble filled with smoke-- the curd-white moon upswimming broke the vacancy of space; but such lines as the following, which occur in the description of the fight with the boar-- i hung as close as keepsake locket on maiden breast--but from its socket he wrenched my bridle arm, are dreadful, and 'his brains festooned the thorn' is not a very happy way of telling the reader how the boar died. all through the volume we find the same curious mixture of good and bad. to say that the sun kisses the earth 'with flame-moustachoed lip' is awkward and uncouth, and yet the poem in which the expression occurs has some pretty lines. mr. ian hamilton should prune. pruning, whether in the garden or in the study, is a most healthy and useful employment. the volume is nicely printed, but mr. strang's frontispiece is not a great success, and most of the tail-pieces seem to have been designed without any reference to the size of the page. mr. catty dedicates his book to the memory of wordsworth, shelley, coleridge and keats--a somewhat pompous signboard for such very ordinary wine--and an inscription in golden letters on the cover informs us that his poems are 'addressed to the rising generation,' whom, he tells us elsewhere, he is anxious to initiate into the great comprehensive truth that 'virtue is no other than self-interest, deeply understood.' in order to further this laudable aim he has written a very tedious blank verse poem which he calls the secret of content, but it certainly does not convey that secret to the reader. it is heavy, abstract and prosaic, and shows how intolerably dull a man can be who has the best intentions and the most earnest beliefs. in the rest of the volume, where mr. catty does not take himself quite so seriously, there are some rather pleasing things. the sonnet on shelley's room at university college would be admirable but for the unmusical character of the last line. green in the wizard arms of the foam-bearded atlantic, an isle of old enchantment, a melancholy isle, enchanted and dreaming lies; and there, by shannon's flowing in the moonlight, spectre-thin, the spectre erin sits. wail no more, lonely one, mother of exile wail no more, banshee of the world--no more! thy sorrows are the world's, thou art no more alone; thy wrongs the world's-- are the first and last stanzas of mr. todhunter's poem the banshee. to throw away the natural grace of rhyme from a modern song is, as mr. swinburne once remarked, a wilful abdication of half the power and half the charm of verse, and we cannot say that mr. todhunter has given us much that consoles us for its loss. part of his poem reads like a translation of an old bardic song, part of it like rough material for poetry, and part of it like misshapen prose. it is an interesting specimen of poetic writing but it is not a perfect work of art. it is amorphous and inchoate, and the same must be said of the two other poems, the doom of the children of lir, and the lamentation for the sons of turann. rhyme gives architecture as well as melody to song, and though the lovely lute-builded walls of thebes may have risen up to unrhymed choral metres, we have had no modern amphion to work such wonders for us. such a verse as-- five were the chiefs who challenged by their deeds the over-kingship, bov derg, the daghda's son, ilbrac of assaroe, and lir of the white field in the plain of emain macha; and after them stood up midhir the proud, who reigned upon the hills of bri, of bri the loved of liath, bri of the broken heart; and last was angus og; all these had many voices, but for bov derg were most, has, of course, an archaeological interest, but has no artistic value at all. indeed, from the point of view of art, the few little poems at the end of the volume are worth all the ambitious pseudo-epics that mr. todhunter has tried to construct out of celtic lore. a bacchic day is charming, and the sonnet on the open-air performance of the faithfull shepherdesse is most gracefully phrased and most happy in conception. mr. peacock is an american poet, and professor thomas danleigh supplee, a.m., ph.d., f.r.s., who has written a preface to his poems of the plains and songs of the solitudes, tells us that he is entitled to be called the laureate of the west. though a staunch republican, mr. peacock, according to the enthusiastic professor, is not ashamed of his ancestor king william of holland, nor of his relatives lord and lady peacock who, it seems, are natives of scotland. he was brought up at zanesville, muskingum co., ohio, where his father edited the zanesville aurora, and he had an uncle who was 'a superior man' and edited the wheeling intelligencer. his poems seem to be extremely popular, and have been highly praised, the professor informs us, by victor hugo, the saturday review and the commercial advertiser. the preface is the most amusing part of the book, but the poems also are worth studying. the maniac, the bandit chief, and the outlaw can hardly be called light reading, but we strongly recommend the poem on chicago: chicago! great city of the west! all that wealth, all that power invest; thou sprang like magic from the sand, as touched by the magician's wand. 'thou sprang' is slightly depressing, and the second line is rather obscure, but we should not measure by too high a standard the untutored utterances of artless nature. the opening lines of the vendetta also deserve mention: when stars are glowing through day's gloaming glow, reflecting from ocean's deep, mighty flow, at twilight, when no grim shadows of night, like ghouls, have stalked in wake of the light. the first line is certainly a masterpiece, and, indeed, the whole volume is full of gems of this kind. the professor remarks in his elaborate preface that mr. peacock 'frequently rises to the sublime,' and the two passages quoted above show how keenly critical is his taste in these matters and how well the poet deserves his panegyric. mr. alexander skene smith's holiday recreations and other poems is heralded by a preface for which principal cairns is responsible. principal cairns claims that the life-story enshrined in mr. smith's poems shows the wide diffusion of native fire and literary culture in all parts of scotland, 'happily under higher auspices than those of mere poetic impulse.' this is hardly a very felicitous way of introducing a poet, nor can we say that mr. smith's poems are distinguished by either fire or culture. he has a placid, pleasant way of writing, and, indeed, his verses cannot do any harm, though he really should not publish such attempts at metrical versions of the psalms as the following: a septuagenarian we frequently may see; an octogenarian if one should live to be, he is a burden to himself with weariness and woe and soon he dies, and off he flies, and leaveth all below. the 'literary culture' that produced these lines is, we fear, not of a very high order. 'i study poetry simply as a fine art by which i may exercise my intellect and elevate my taste,' wrote the late mr. george morine many years ago to a friend, and the little posthumous volume that now lies before us contains the record of his quiet literary life. one of the sonnets, that entitled sunset, appeared in mr. waddington's anthology, about ten years after mr. morine's death, but this is the first time that his collected poems have been published. they are often distinguished by a grave and chastened beauty of style, and their solemn cadences have something of the 'grand manner' about them. the editor, mr. wilton, to whom mr. morine bequeathed his manuscripts, seems to have performed his task with great tact and judgment, and we hope that this little book will meet with the recognition that it deserves. ( ) the ballad of hadji and other poems. by ian hamilton. (kegan paul.) ( ) poems in the modern spirit, with the secret of content. by charles catty. (walter scott.) ( ) the banshee and other poems. by john todhunter. (kegan paul.) ( ) poems of the plain and songs of the solitudes. by thomas bower peacock. (g. p. putnam's sons.) ( ) holiday recreations and other poems. by alexander skene smith. (chapman and hall.) ( ) poems. by george morine. (bell and son.) a fascinating book (woman's world, november .) mr. alan cole's carefully-edited translation of m. lefebure's history of embroidery and lace is one of the most fascinating books that has appeared on this delightful subject. m. lefebure is one of the administrators of the musee des arts decoratifs at paris, besides being a lace manufacturer; and his work has not merely an important historical value, but as a handbook of technical instruction it will be found of the greatest service by all needle-women. indeed, as the translator himself points out, m. lefebure's book suggests the question whether it is not rather by the needle and the bobbin, than by the brush, the graver or the chisel, that the influence of woman should assert itself in the arts. in europe, at any rate, woman is sovereign in the domain of art-needle-work, and few men would care to dispute with her the right of using those delicate implements so intimately associated with the dexterity of her nimble and slender fingers; nor is there any reason why the productions of embroidery should not, as mr. alan cole suggests, be placed on the same level with those of painting, engraving and sculpture, though there must always be a great difference between those purely decorative arts that glorify their own material and the more imaginative arts in which the material is, as it were, annihilated, and absorbed into the creation of a new form. in the beautifying of modern houses it certainly must be admitted--indeed, it should be more generally recognised than it is--that rich embroidery on hangings and curtains, portieres, couches and the like, produces a far more decorative and far more artistic effect than can be gained from our somewhat wearisome english practice of covering the walls with pictures and engravings; and the almost complete disappearance of embroidery from dress has robbed modern costume of one of the chief elements of grace and fancy. that, however, a great improvement has taken place in english embroidery during the last ten or fifteen years cannot, i think, be denied. it is shown, not merely in the work of individual artists, such as mrs. holiday, miss may morris and others, but also in the admirable productions of the south kensington school of embroidery (the best--indeed, the only really good--school that south kensington has produced). it is pleasant to note, on turning over the leaves of m. lefebure's book, that in this we are merely carrying out certain old traditions of early english art. in the seventh century, st. ethelreda, first abbess of the monastery of ely, made an offering to st. cuthbert of a sacred ornament she had worked with gold and precious stones, and the cope and maniple of st. cuthbert, which are preserved at durham, are considered to be specimens of opus anglicanum. in the year , the bishop of durham allotted the income of a farm of two hundred acres for life to an embroideress named eanswitha, in consideration of her keeping in repair the vestments of the clergy in his diocese. the battle standard of king alfred was embroidered by danish princesses; and the anglo-saxon gudric gave alcuid a piece of land, on condition that she instructed his daughter in needle-work. queen mathilda bequeathed to the abbey of the holy trinity at caen a tunic embroidered at winchester by the wife of one alderet; and when william presented himself to the english nobles, after the battle of hastings, he wore a mantle covered with anglo-saxon embroideries, which is probably, m. lefebure suggests, the same as that mentioned in the inventory of the bayeux cathedral, where, after the entry relating to the broderie a telle (representing the conquest of england), two mantles are described--one of king william, 'all of gold, powdered with crosses and blossoms of gold, and edged along the lower border with an orphrey of figures.' the most splendid example of the opus anglicanum now in existence is, of course, the syon cope at the south kensington museum; but english work seems to have been celebrated all over the continent. pope innocent iv. so admired the splendid vestments worn by the english clergy in , that he ordered similar articles from cistercian monasteries in england. st. dunstan, the artistic english monk, was known as a designer for embroideries; and the stole of st. thomas a becket is still preserved in the cathedral at sens, and shows us the interlaced scroll-forms used by anglo-saxon ms. illuminators. how far this modern artistic revival of rich and delicate embroidery will bear fruit depends, of course, almost entirely on the energy and study that women are ready to devote to it; but i think that it must be admitted that all our decorative arts in europe at present have, at least, this element of strength--that they are in immediate relationship with the decorative arts of asia. wherever we find in european history a revival of decorative art, it has, i fancy, nearly always been due to oriental influence and contact with oriental nations. our own keenly intellectual art has more than once been ready to sacrifice real decorative beauty either to imitative presentation or to ideal motive. it has taken upon itself the burden of expression, and has sought to interpret the secrets of thought and passion. in its marvellous truth of presentation it has found its strength, and yet its weakness is there also. it is never with impunity that an art seeks to mirror life. if truth has her revenge upon those who do not follow her, she is often pitiless to her worshippers. in byzantium the two arts met--greek art, with its intellectual sense of form, and its quick sympathy with humanity; oriental art, with its gorgeous materialism, its frank rejection of imitation, its wonderful secrets of craft and colour, its splendid textures, its rare metals and jewels, its marvellous and priceless traditions. they had, indeed, met before, but in byzantium they were married; and the sacred tree of the persians, the palm of zoroaster, was embroidered on the hem of the garments of the western world. even the iconoclasts, the philistines of theological history, who, in one of those strange outbursts of rage against beauty that seem to occur only amongst european nations, rose up against the wonder and magnificence of the new art, served merely to distribute its secrets more widely; and in the liber pontificalis, written in by athanasius, the librarian, we read of an influx into rome of gorgeous embroideries, the work of men who had arrived from constantinople and from greece. the triumph of the mussulman gave the decorative art of europe a new departure--that very principle of their religion that forbade the actual representation of any object in nature being of the greatest artistic service to them, though it was not, of course, strictly carried out. the saracens introduced into sicily the art of weaving silken and golden fabrics; and from sicily the manufacture of fine stuffs spread to the north of italy, and became localised in genoa, florence, venice, and other towns. a still greater art-movement took place in spain under the moors and saracens, who brought over workmen from persia to make beautiful things for them. m. lefebure tells us of persian embroidery penetrating as far as andalusia; and almeria, like palermo, had its hotel des tiraz, which rivalled the hotel des tiraz at bagdad, tiraz being the generic name for ornamental tissues and costumes made with them. spangles (those pretty little discs of gold, silver, or polished steel, used in certain embroidery for dainty glinting effects) were a saracenic invention; and arabic letters often took the place of letters in the roman characters for use in inscriptions upon embroidered robes and middle age tapestries, their decorative value being so much greater. the book of crafts by etienne boileau, provost of the merchants in - , contains a curious enumeration of the different craft-guilds of paris, among which we find 'the tapiciers, or makers of the tapis sarrasinois (or saracen cloths), who say that their craft is for the service only of churches, or great men like kings and counts'; and, indeed, even in our own day, nearly all our words descriptive of decorative textures and decorative methods point to an oriental origin. what the inroads of the mohammedans did for sicily and spain, the return of the crusaders did for the other countries of europe. the nobles who left for palestine clad in armour, came back in the rich stuffs of the east; and their costumes, pouches (aumonieres sarra-sinoises), and caparisons excited the admiration of the needle-workers of the west. matthew paris says that at the sacking of antioch, in , gold, silver and priceless costumes were so equally distributed among the crusaders, that many who the night before were famishing and imploring relief, suddenly found themselves overwhelmed with wealth; and robert de clair tells us of the wonderful fetes that followed the capture of constantinople. the thirteenth century, as m. lefebure points out, was conspicuous for an increased demand in the west for embroidery. many crusaders made offerings to churches of plunder from palestine; and st. louis, on his return from the first crusade, offered thanks at st. denis to god for mercies bestowed on him during his six years' absence and travel, and presented some richly- embroidered stuffs to be used on great occasions as coverings to the reliquaries containing the relics of holy martyrs. european embroidery, having thus become possessed of new materials and wonderful methods, developed on its own intellectual and imitative lines, inclining, as it went on, to the purely pictorial, and seeking to rival painting, and to produce landscapes and figure-subjects with elaborate perspective and subtle aerial effects. a fresh oriental influence, however, came through the dutch and the portuguese, and the famous compagnie des grandes indes; and m. lefebure gives an illustration of a door-hanging now in the cluny museum, where we find the french fleurs-de-lys intermixed with indian ornament. the hangings of madame de maintenon's room at fontainebleau, which were embroidered at st. cyr, represent chinese scenery upon a jonquil-yellow ground. clothes were sent out ready cut to the east to be embroidered, and many of the delightful coats of the period of louis xv. and louis xvi. owe their dainty decoration to the needles of chinese artists. in our own day the influence of the east is strongly marked. persia has sent us her carpets for patterns, and cashmere her lovely shawls, and india her dainty muslins finely worked with gold thread palmates, and stitched over with iridescent beetles' wings. we are beginning now to dye by oriental methods, and the silk robes of china and japan have taught us new wonders of colour-combination, and new subtleties of delicate design. whether we have yet learned to make a wise use of what we have acquired is less certain. if books produce an effect, this book of m. lefebure should certainly make us study with still deeper interest the whole question of embroidery, and by those who already work with their needles it will be found full of most fertile suggestion and most admirable advice. even to read of the marvellous works of embroidery that were fashioned in bygone ages is pleasant. time has kept a few fragments of greek embroidery of the fourth century b.c. for us. one is figured in m. lefebure's book--a chain-stitch embroidery of yellow flax upon a mulberry- coloured worsted material, with graceful spirals and palmetto-patterns: and another, a tapestried cloth powdered with ducks, was reproduced in the woman's world some months ago for an article by mr. alan cole. { a} now and then we find in the tomb of some dead egyptian a piece of delicate work. in the treasury at ratisbon is preserved a specimen of byzantine embroidery on which the emperor constantine is depicted riding on a white palfrey, and receiving homage from the east and west. metz has a red silk cope wrought with great eagles, the gift of charlemagne, and bayeux the needle-wrought epic of queen matilda. but where is the great crocus-coloured robe, wrought for athena, on which the gods fought against the giants? where is the huge velarium that nero stretched across the colosseum at rome, on which was represented the starry sky, and apollo driving a chariot drawn by steeds? how one would like to see the curious table-napkins wrought for heliogabalus, on which were displayed all the dainties and viands that could be wanted for a feast; or the mortuary-cloth of king chilperic, with its three hundred golden bees; or the fantastic robes that excited the indignation of the bishop of pontus, and were embroidered with 'lions, panthers, bears, dogs, forests, rocks, hunters--all, in fact, that painters can copy from nature.' charles of orleans had a coat, on the sleeves of which were embroidered the verses of a song beginning 'madame, je suis tout joyeux,' the musical accompaniment of the words being wrought in gold thread, and each note, of square shape in those days, formed with four pearls. { b} the room prepared in the palace at rheims for the use of queen joan of burgundy was decorated with 'thirteen hundred and twenty-one papegauts (parrots) made in broidery and blazoned with the king's arms, and five hundred and sixty-one butterflies, whose wings were similarly ornamented with the queen's arms--the whole worked in fine gold.' catherine de medicis had a mourning-bed made for her 'of black velvet embroidered with pearls and powdered with crescents and suns.' its curtains were of damask, 'with leafy wreaths and garlands figured upon a gold and silver ground, and fringed along the edges with broideries of pearls,' and it stood in a room hung with rows of the queen's devices in cut black velvet on cloth of silver. louis xiv. had gold-embroidered caryatides fifteen feet high in his apartment. the state-bed of sobieski, king of poland, was made of smyrna gold brocade embroidered in turquoises and pearls, with verses from the koran; its supports were of silver-gilt, beautifully chased and profusely set with enamelled and jewelled medallions. he had taken it from the turkish camp before vienna, and the standard of mahomet had stood under it. the duchess de la ferte wore a dress of reddish-brown velvet, the skirt of which, adjusted in graceful folds, was held up by big butterflies made of dresden china; the front was a tablier of cloth of silver, upon which was embroidered an orchestra of musicians arranged in a pyramidal group, consisting of a series of six ranks of performers, with beautiful instruments wrought in raised needle-work. 'into the night go one and all,' as mr. henley sings in his charming ballade of dead actors. many of the facts related by m. lefebure about the embroiderers' guilds are also extremely interesting. etienne boileau, in his book of crafts, to which i have already alluded, tells us that a member of the guild was prohibited from using gold of less value than 'eight sous (about s.) the skein; he was bound to use the best silk, and never to mix thread with silk, because that made the work false and bad.' the test or trial piece prescribed for a worker who was the son of a master-embroiderer was 'a single figure, a sixth of the natural size, to be shaded in gold'; whilst one not the son of a master was required to produce 'a complete incident with many figures.' the book of crafts also mentions 'cutters-out and stencillers and illuminators' amongst those employed in the industry of embroidery. in the parisian corporation of embroiderers issued a notice that 'for the future, the colouring in representations of nude figures and faces should be done in three or four gradations of carnation- dyed silk, and not, as formerly, in white silks.' during the fifteenth century every household of any position retained the services of an embroiderer by the year. the preparation of colours also, whether for painting or for dyeing threads and textile fabrics, was a matter which, m. lefebure points out, received close attention from the artists of the middle ages. many undertook long journeys to obtain the more famous recipes, which they filed, subsequently adding to and correcting them as experience dictated. nor were great artists above making and supplying designs for embroidery. raphael made designs for francis i., and boucher for louis xv.; and in the ambras collection at vienna is a superb set of sacerdotal robes from designs by the brothers van eyck and their pupils. early in the sixteenth century books of embroidery designs were produced, and their success was so great that in a few years french, german, italian, flemish, and english publishers spread broadcast books of design made by their best engravers. in the same century, in order to give the designers opportunity of studying directly from nature, jean robin opened a garden with conservatories, in which he cultivated strange varieties of plants then but little known in our latitudes. the rich brocades and brocadelles of the time are characterised by the introduction of large flowery patterns, with pomegranates and other fruits with fine foliage. the second part of m. lefebure's book is devoted to the history of lace, and though some may not find it quite as interesting as the earlier portion it will more than repay perusal; and those who still work in this delicate and fanciful art will find many valuable suggestions in it, as well as a large number of exceedingly beautiful designs. compared to embroidery, lace seems comparatively modern. m. lefebure and mr. alan cole tell us that there is no reliable or documentary evidence to prove the existence of lace before the fifteenth century. of course in the east, light tissues, such as gauzes, muslins, and nets, were made at very early times, and were used as veils and scarfs after the manner of subsequent laces, and women enriched them with some sort of embroidery, or varied the openness of them by here and there drawing out threads. the threads of fringes seem also to have been plaited and knotted together, and the borders of one of the many fashions of roman toga were of open reticulated weaving. the egyptian museum at the louvre has a curious network embellished with glass beads; and the monk reginald, who took part in opening the tomb of st. cuthbert at durham in the twelfth century, writes that the saint's shroud had a fringe of linen threads an inch long, surmounted by a border, 'worked upon the threads,' with representations of birds and pairs of beasts, there being between each such pair a branching tree, a survival of the palm of zoroaster, to which i have before alluded. our authors, however, do not in these examples recognise lace, the production of which involves more refined and artistic methods, and postulates a combination of skill and varied execution carried to a higher degree of perfection. lace, as we know it, seems to have had its origin in the habit of embroidering linen. white embroidery on linen has, m. lefebure remarks, a cold and monotonous aspect; that with coloured threads is brighter and gayer in effect, but is apt to fade in frequent washing; but white embroidery relieved by open spaces in, or shapes cut from, the linen ground, is possessed of an entirely new charm; and from a sense of this the birth may be traced of an art in the result of which happy contrasts are effected between ornamental details of close texture and others of open-work. soon, also, was suggested the idea that, instead of laboriously withdrawing threads from stout linen, it would be more convenient to introduce a needle-made pattern into an open network ground, which was called a lacis. of this kind of embroidery many specimens are extant. the cluny museum possesses a linen cap said to have belonged to charles v.; and an alb of linen drawn-thread work, supposed to have been made by anne of bohemia ( ), is preserved in the cathedral at prague. catherine de medicis had a bed draped with squares of reseuil, or lacis, and it is recorded that 'the girls and servants of her household consumed much time in making squares of reseuil.' the interesting pattern-books for open-ground embroidery, of which the first was published in by pierre quinty, of cologne, supply us with the means of tracing the stages in the transition from white thread embroidery to needle-point lace. we meet in them with a style of needle-work which differs from embroidery in not being wrought upon a stuff foundation. it is, in fact, true lace, done, as it were, 'in the air,' both ground and pattern being entirely produced by the lace-maker. the elaborate use of lace in costume was, of course, largely stimulated by the fashion of wearing ruffs, and their companion cuffs or sleeves. catherine de medicis induced one frederic vinciolo to come from italy and make ruffs and gadrooned collars, the fashion of which she started in france; and henry iii. was so punctilious over his ruffs that he would iron and goffer his cuffs and collars himself rather than see their pleats limp and out of shape. the pattern-books also gave a great impulse to the art. m. lefebure mentions german books with patterns of eagles, heraldic emblems, hunting scenes, and plants and leaves belonging to northern vegetation; and italian books, in which the motifs consist of oleander blossoms, and elegant wreaths and scrolls, landscapes with mythological scenes, and hunting episodes, less realistic than the northern ones, in which appear fauns, and nymphs or amorini shooting arrows. with regard to these patterns, m. lefebure notices a curious fact. the oldest painting in which lace is depicted is that of a lady, by carpaccio, who died about . the cuffs of the lady are edged with a narrow lace, the pattern of which reappears in vecellio's corona, a book not published until . this particular pattern was, therefore, in use at least eighty years before it got into circulation with other published patterns. it was not, however, till the seventeenth century that lace acquired a really independent character and individuality, and m. duplessis states that the production of the more noteworthy of early laces owes more to the influence of men than to that of women. the reign of louis xiv. witnessed the production of the most stately needle-point laces, the transformation of venetian point, and the growth of points d'alencon, d'argentan, de bruxelles and d'angleterre. the king, aided by colbert, determined to make france the centre, if possible, for lace manufacture, sending for this purpose both to venice and to flanders for workers. the studio of the gobelins supplied designs. the dandies had their huge rabatos or bands falling from beneath the chin over the breast, and great prelates, like bossuet and fenelon, wore their wonderful albs and rochets. it is related of a collar made at venice for louis xiv. that the lace-workers, being unable to find sufficiently fine horse-hair, employed some of their own hairs instead, in order to secure that marvellous delicacy of work which they aimed at producing. in the eighteenth century, venice, finding that laces of lighter texture were sought after, set herself to make rose-point; and at the court of louis xv. the choice of lace was regulated by still more elaborate etiquette. the revolution, however, ruined many of the manufactures. alencon survived, and napoleon encouraged it, and endeavoured to renew the old rules about the necessity of wearing point-lace at court receptions. a wonderful piece of lace, powdered over with devices of bees, and costing , francs, was ordered. it was begun for the empress josephine, but in the course of its making her escutcheons were replaced by those of marie louise. m. lefebure concludes his interesting history by stating very clearly his attitude towards machine-made lace. 'it would be an obvious loss to art,' he says, 'should the making of lace by hand become extinct, for machinery, as skilfully devised as possible, cannot do what the hand does.' it can give us 'the results of processes, not the creations of artistic handicraft.' art is absent 'where formal calculation pretends to supersede emotion'; it is absent 'where no trace can be detected of intelligence guiding handicraft, whose hesitancies even possess peculiar charm . . . cheapness is never commendable in respect of things which are not absolute necessities; it lowers artistic standard.' these are admirable remarks, and with them we take leave of this fascinating book, with its delightful illustrations, its charming anecdotes, its excellent advice. mr. alan cole deserves the thanks of all who are interested in art for bringing this book before the public in so attractive and so inexpensive a form. embroidery and lace: their manufacture and history from the remotest antiquity to the present day. translated and enlarged by alan s. cole from the french of ernest lefebure. (grevel and co.) the poets' corner--viii (pall mall gazette, november , .) a few years ago some of our minor poets tried to set science to music, to write sonnets on the survival of the fittest and odes to natural selection. socialism, and the sympathy with those who are unfit, seem, if we may judge from miss nesbit's remarkable volume, to be the new theme of song, the fresh subject-matter for poetry. the change has some advantages. scientific laws are at once too abstract and too clearly defined, and even the visible arts have not yet been able to translate into any symbols of beauty the discoveries of modern science. at the arts and crafts exhibition we find the cosmogony of moses, not the cosmogony of darwin. to mr. burne-jones man is still a fallen angel, not a greater ape. poverty and misery, upon the other hand, are terribly concrete things. we find their incarnation everywhere and, as we are discussing a matter of art, we have no hesitation in saying that they are not devoid of picturesqueness. the etcher or the painter finds in them 'a subject made to his hand,' and the poet has admirable opportunities of drawing weird and dramatic contrasts between the purple of the rich and the rags of the poor. from miss nesbit's book comes not merely the voice of sympathy but also the cry of revolution: this is our vengeance day. our masters made fat with our fasting shall fall before us like corn when the sickle for harvest is strong: old wrongs shall give might to our arm, remembrance of wrongs shall make lasting the graves we will dig for our tyrants we bore with too much and too long. the poem from which we take this stanza is remarkably vigorous, and the only consolation that we can offer to the timid and the tories is that as long as so much strength is employed in blowing the trumpet, the sword, so far as miss nesbit is concerned, will probably remain sheathed. personally, and looking at the matter from a purely artistic point of view, we prefer miss nesbit's gentler moments. her eye for nature is peculiarly keen. she has always an exquisite sense of colour and sometimes a most delicate ear for music. many of her poems, such as the moat house, absolution, and the singing of the magnificat are true works of art, and vies manquees is a little gem of song, with its dainty dancing measure, its delicate and wilful fancy and the sharp poignant note of passion that suddenly strikes across it, marring its light laughter and lending its beauty a terrible and tragic meaning. from the sonnets we take this at random: not spring--too lavish of her bud and leaf-- but autumn with sad eyes and brows austere, when fields are bare, and woods are brown and sere, and leaden skies weep their enchantless grief. spring is so much too bright, since spring is brief, and in our hearts is autumn all the year, least sad when the wide pastures are most drear and fields grieve most--robbed of the last gold sheaf. these too, the opening stanzas of the last envoy, are charming: the wind, that through the silent woodland blows o'er rippling corn and dreaming pastures goes straight to the garden where the heart of spring faints in the heart of summer's earliest rose. dimpling the meadow's grassy green and grey, by furze that yellows all the common way, gathering the gladness of the common broom, and too persistent fragrance of the may-- gathering whatever is of sweet and dear, the wandering wind has passed away from here, has passed to where within your garden waits the concentrated sweetness of the year. but miss nesbit is not to be judged by mere extracts. her work is too rich and too full for that. mr. foster is an american poet who has read hawthorne, which is wise of him, and imitated longfellow, which is not quite so commendable. his rebecca the witch is a story of old salem, written in the metre of hiawatha, with a few rhymes thrown in, and conceived in the spirit of the author of the scarlet letter. the combination is not very satisfactory, but the poem, as a piece of fiction, has many elements of interest. mr. foster seems to be quite popular in america. the chicago times finds his fancies 'very playful and sunny,' and the indianapolis journal speaks of his 'tender and appreciative style.' he is certainly a clever story-teller, and the noah's ark (which 'somehow had escaped the sheriff's hand') is bright and amusing, and its pathos, like the pathos of a melodrama, is a purely picturesque element not intended to be taken too seriously. we cannot, however, recommend the definitely comic poems. they are very depressing. mr. john renton denning dedicates his book to the duke of connaught, who is colonel-in-chief of the rifle brigade, in which regiment mr. denning was once himself a private soldier. his poems show an ardent love of keats and a profligate luxuriance of adjectives: and i will build a bower for thee, sweet, a verdurous shelter from the noonday heat, thick rustling ivy, broad and green, and shining, with honeysuckle creeping up and twining its nectared sweetness round thee; violets and daisies with their fringed coronets and the white bells of tiny valley lilies, and golden-leaved narcissi--daffodillies shall grow around thy dwelling--luscious fare of fruit on which the sun has laughed; this is the immature manner of endymion with a vengeance and is not to be encouraged. still, mr. denning is not always so anxious to reproduce the faults of his master. sometimes he writes with wonderful grace and charm. sylvia, for instance, is an exceedingly pretty poem, and the exile has many powerful and picturesque lines. mr. denning should make a selection of his poems and publish them in better type and on better paper. the 'get-up' of his volume, to use the slang phrase of our young poets, is very bad indeed, and reflects no credit on the press of the education society of bombay. the best poem in mr. joseph mckim's little book is, undoubtedly, william the silent. it is written in the spirited macaulay style: awake, awake, ye burghers brave! shout, shout for joy and sing! with thirty thousand at his back comes forth your hero king. now shake for ever from your necks the servile yoke of spain, and raise your arms and end for aye false alva's cruel reign. ho! maestricht, liege, brussels fair! pour forth your warriors brave, and join your hands with him who comes your hearths and homes to save. some people like this style. mrs. horace dobell, who has arrived at her seventeenth volume of poetry, seems very angry with everybody, and writes poems to a human toad with lurid and mysterious footnotes such as--'yet some one, _not_ a friend of --- _did_! on a certain occasion of a glib utterance of calumnies, by ---! at hampstead.' here indeed is a soul's tragedy. 'in many cases i have deliberately employed alliteration, believing that the music of a line is intensified thereby,' says mr. kelly in the preface to his poems, and there is certainly no reason why mr. kelly should not employ this 'artful aid.' alliteration is one of the many secrets of english poetry, and as long as it is kept a secret it is admirable. mr. kelly, it must be admitted, uses it with becoming modesty and reserve and never suffers it to trammel the white feet of his bright and buoyant muse. his volume is, in many ways, extremely interesting. most minor poets are at their best in sonnets, but with him it is not so. his sonnets are too narrative, too diffuse, and too lyrical. they lack concentration, and concentration is the very essence of a sonnet. his longer poems, on the other hand, have many good qualities. we do not care for psychossolles, which is elaborately commonplace, but the flight of calliope has many charming passages. it is a pity that mr. kelly has included the poems written before the age of nineteen. youth is rarely original. andiatorocte is the title of a volume of poems by the rev. clarence walworth, of albany, n.y. it is a word borrowed from the indians, and should, we think, be returned to them as soon as possible. the most curious poem of the book is called scenes at the holy home: jesus and joseph at work! hurra! sight never to see again, a prentice deity plies the saw, while the master ploughs with the plane. poems of this kind were popular in the middle ages when the cathedrals of every christian country served as its theatres. they are anachronisms now, and it is odd that they should come to us from the united states. in matters of this kind we should have some protection. ( ) lays and legends. by e. nesbit. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) rebecca the witch and other tales. by david skaats foster. (g. p. putnam's sons.) ( ) poems and songs. by john renton denning. (bombay: education society's press.) ( ) poems. by joseph mckim. (kegan paul.) ( ) in the watches of the night. poems in eighteen volumes. by mrs. horace dobell. vol. xvii. (remington and co.) ( ) poems. by james kelly. (glasgow: reid and coghill.) ( ) andiatorocte. by the rev. clarence a. walworth. (g. p. putnam's sons.) a note on some modern poets (woman's world, december .) 'if i were king,' says mr. henley, in one of his most modest rondeaus, 'art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear; beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather; and love, sweet love, should never fall to sere, if i were king.' and these lines contain, if not the best criticism of his own work, certainly a very complete statement of his aim and motive as a poet. his little book of verses reveals to us an artist who is seeking to find new methods of expression and has not merely a delicate sense of beauty and a brilliant, fantastic wit, but a real passion also for what is horrible, ugly, or grotesque. no doubt, everything that is worthy of existence is worthy also of art--at least, one would like to think so--but while echo or mirror can repeat for us a beautiful thing, to render artistically a thing that is ugly requires the most exquisite alchemy of form, the most subtle magic of transformation. to me there is more of the cry of marsyas than of the singing of apollo in the earlier poems of mr. henley's volume, in hospital: rhymes and rhythms, as he calls them. but it is impossible to deny their power. some of them are like bright, vivid pastels; others like charcoal drawings, with dull blacks and murky whites; others like etchings with deeply-bitten lines, and abrupt contrasts, and clever colour-suggestions. in fact, they are like anything and everything, except perfected poems--that they certainly are not. they are still in the twilight. they are preludes, experiments, inspired jottings in a note-book, and should be heralded by a design of 'genius making sketches.' rhyme gives architecture as well as melody to verse; it gives that delightful sense of limitation which in all the arts is so pleasurable, and is, indeed, one of the secrets of perfection; it will whisper, as a french critic has said, 'things unexpected and charming, things with strange and remote relations to each other,' and bind them together in indissoluble bonds of beauty; and in his constant rejection of rhyme, mr. henley seems to me to have abdicated half his power. he is a roi en exil who has thrown away some of the strings of his lute; a poet who has forgotten the fairest part of his kingdom. however, all work criticises itself. here is one of mr. henley's inspired jottings. according to the temperament of the reader, it will serve either as a model or as the reverse: as with varnish red and glistening dripped his hair; his feet were rigid; raised, he settled stiffly sideways: you could see the hurts were spinal. he had fallen from an engine, and been dragged along the metals. it was hopeless, and they knew it; so they covered him, and left him. as he lay, by fits half sentient, inarticulately moaning, with his stockinged feet protruded sharp and awkward from the blankets, to his bed there came a woman, stood and looked and sighed a little, and departed without speaking, as himself a few hours after. i was told she was his sweetheart. they were on the eve of marriage. she was quiet as a statue, but her lip was gray and writhen. in this poem, the rhythm and the music, such as it is, are obvious--perhaps a little too obvious. in the following i see nothing but ingeniously printed prose. it is a description--and a very accurate one--of a scene in a hospital ward. the medical students are supposed to be crowding round the doctor. what i quote is only a fragment, but the poem itself is a fragment: so shows the ring seen, from behind, round a conjuror doing his pitch in the street. high shoulders, low shoulders, broad shoulders, narrow ones, round, square, and angular, serry and shove; while from within a voice, gravely and weightily fluent, sounds; and then ceases; and suddenly (look at the stress of the shoulders!) out of a quiver of silence, over the hiss of the spray, comes a low cry, and the sound of breath quick intaken through teeth clenched in resolve. and the master breaks from the crowd, and goes, wiping his hands, to the next bed, with his pupils flocking and whispering behind him. now one can see. case number one sits (rather pale) with his bedclothes stripped up, and showing his foot (alas, for god's image!) swaddled in wet white lint brilliantly hideous with red. theophile gautier once said that flaubert's style was meant to be read, and his own style to be looked at. mr. henley's unrhymed rhythms form very dainty designs, from a typographical point of view. from the point of view of literature, they are a series of vivid, concentrated impressions, with a keen grip of fact, a terrible actuality, and an almost masterly power of picturesque presentation. but the poetic form--what of that? well, let us pass to the later poems, to the rondels and rondeaus, the sonnets and quatorzains, the echoes and the ballades. how brilliant and fanciful this is! the toyokuni colour-print that suggested it could not be more delightful. it seems to have kept all the wilful fantastic charm of the original: was i a samurai renowned, two-sworded, fierce, immense of bow? a histrion angular and profound? a priest? a porter?--child, although i have forgotten clean, i know that in the shade of fujisan, what time the cherry-orchards blow, i loved you once in old japan. as here you loiter, flowing-gowned and hugely sashed, with pins a-row your quaint head as with flamelets crowned, demure, inviting--even so, when merry maids in miyako to feel the sweet o' the year began, and green gardens to overflow, i loved you once in old japan. clear shine the hills; the rice-fields round two cranes are circling; sleepy and slow, a blue canal the lake's blue bound breaks at the bamboo bridge; and lo! touched with the sundown's spirit and glow, i see you turn, with flirted fan, against the plum-tree's bloomy snow . . . i loved you once in old japan! envoy. dear, 'twas a dozen lives ago; but that i was a lucky man the toyokuni here will show: i loved you--once--in old japan! this rondel, too--how light it is, and graceful!-- we'll to the woods and gather may fresh from the footprints of the rain. we'll to the woods, at every vein to drink the spirit of the day. the winds of spring are out at play, the needs of spring in heart and brain. we'll to the woods and gather may fresh from the footprints of the rain. the world's too near her end, you say? hark to the blackbird's mad refrain! it waits for her, the vast inane? then, girls, to help her on the way we'll to the woods and gather may. there are fine verses, also, scattered through this little book; some of them very strong, as-- out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul. it matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, i am the master of my fate: i am the captain of my soul. others with a true touch of romance, as-- or ever the knightly years were gone with the old world to the grave, i was a king in babylon, and you were a christian slave. and here and there we come across such felicitous phrases as-- in the sand the gold prow-griffin claws a hold, or-- the spires shine and are changed, and many other graceful or fanciful lines, even 'the green sky's minor thirds' being perfectly right in its place, and a very refreshing bit of affectation in a volume where there is so much that is natural. however, mr. henley is not to be judged by samples. indeed, the most attractive thing in the book is no single poem that is in it, but the strong humane personality that stands behind both flawless and faulty work alike, and looks out through many masks, some of them beautiful, and some grotesque, and not a few misshapen. in the case with most of our modern poets, when we have analysed them down to an adjective, we can go no further, or we care to go no further; but with this book it is different. through these reeds and pipes blows the very breath of life. it seems as if one could put one's hand upon the singer's heart and count its pulsations. there is something wholesome, virile and sane about the man's soul. anybody can be reasonable, but to be sane is not common; and sane poets are as rare as blue lilies, though they may not be quite so delightful. let the great winds their worst and wildest blow, or the gold weather round us mellow slow; we have fulfilled ourselves, and we can dare, and we can conquer, though we may not share in the rich quiet of the afterglow, what is to come, is the concluding stanza of the last rondeau--indeed, of the last poem in the collection, and the high, serene temper displayed in these lines serves at once as keynote and keystone to the book. the very lightness and slightness of so much of the work, its careless moods and casual fancies, seem to suggest a nature that is not primarily interested in art--a nature, like sordello's, passionately enamoured of life, one to which lyre and lute are things of less importance. from this mere joy of living, this frank delight in experience for its own sake, this lofty indifference, and momentary unregretted ardours, come all the faults and all the beauties of the volume. but there is this difference between them--the faults are deliberate, and the result of much study; the beauties have the air of fascinating impromptus. mr. henley's healthy, if sometimes misapplied, confidence in the myriad suggestions of life gives him his charm. he is made to sing along the highways, not to sit down and write. if he took himself more seriously, his work would become trivial. * * * * * mr. william sharp takes himself very seriously and has written a preface to his romantic ballads and poems of phantasy, which is, on the whole, the most interesting part of his volume. we are all, it seems, far too cultured, and lack robustness. 'there are those amongst us,' says mr. sharp, 'who would prefer a dexterously-turned triolet to such apparently uncouth measures as thomas the rhymer, or the ballad of clerk saunders: who would rather listen to the drawing-room music of the villanelle than to the wild harp-playing by the mill-dams o' binnorie, or the sough of the night-wind o'er drumly annan water.' such an expression as 'the drawing-room music of the villanelle' is not very happy, and i cannot imagine any one with the smallest pretensions to culture preferring a dexterously turned triolet to a fine imaginative ballad, as it is only the philistine who ever dreams of comparing works of art that are absolutely different in motive, in treatment, and in form. if english poetry is in danger--and, according to mr. sharp, the poor nymph is in a very critical state--what she has to fear is not the fascination of dainty metre or delicate form, but the predominance of the intellectual spirit over the spirit of beauty. lord tennyson dethroned wordsworth as a literary influence, and later on mr. swinburne filled all the mountain valleys with echoes of his own song. the influence to-day is that of mr. browning. and as for the triolets, and the rondels, and the careful study of metrical subtleties, these things are merely the signs of a desire for perfection in small things and of the recognition of poetry as an art. they have had certainly one good result--they have made our minor poets readable, and have not left us entirely at the mercy of geniuses. but, says mr. sharp, every one is far too literary; even rossetti is too literary. what we want is simplicity and directness of utterance; these should be the dominant characteristics of poetry. well, is that quite so certain? are simplicity and directness of utterance absolute essentials for poetry? i think not. they may be admirable for the drama, admirable for all those imitative forms of literature that claim to mirror life in its externals and its accidents, admirable for quiet narrative, admirable in their place; but their place is not everywhere. poetry has many modes of music; she does not blow through one pipe alone. directness of utterance is good, but so is the subtle recasting of thought into a new and delightful form. simplicity is good, but complexity, mystery, strangeness, symbolism, obscurity even, these have their value. indeed, properly speaking, there is no such thing as style; there are merely styles, that is all. one cannot help feeling also that everything that mr. sharp says in his preface was said at the beginning of the century by wordsworth, only where wordsworth called us back to nature, mr. sharp invites us to woo romance. romance, he tells us, is 'in the air.' a new romantic movement is imminent; 'i anticipate,' he says, 'that many of our poets, especially those of the youngest generation, will shortly turn towards the "ballad" as a poetic vehicle: and that the next year or two will see much romantic poetry.' the ballad! well, mr. andrew lang, some months ago, signed the death- warrant of the ballade, and--though i hope that in this respect mr. lang resembles the queen in alice in wonderland, whose bloodthirsty orders were by general consent never carried into execution--it must be admitted that the number of ballades given to us by some of our poets was, perhaps, a little excessive. but the ballad? sir patrick spens, clerk saunders, thomas the rhymer--are these to be our archetypes, our models, the sources of our inspiration? they are certainly great imaginative poems. in chatterton's ballad of charity, coleridge's rhyme of the ancient mariner, the la belle dame sans merci of keats, the sister helen of rossetti, we can see what marvellous works of art the spirit of old romance may fashion. but to preach a spirit is one thing, to propose a form is another. it is true that mr. sharp warns the rising generation against imitation. a ballad, he reminds them, does not necessarily denote a poem in quatrains and in antique language. but his own poems, as i think will be seen later, are, in their way, warnings, and show the danger of suggesting any definite 'poetic vehicle.' and, further, are simplicity and directness of utterance really the dominant characteristics of these old imaginative ballads that mr. sharp so enthusiastically, and, in some particulars, so wisely praises? it does not seem to me to be so. we are always apt to think that the voices which sang at the dawn of poetry were simpler, fresher, and more natural than ours, and that the world which the early poets looked at, and through which they walked, had a kind of poetical quality of its own, and could pass, almost without changing, into song. the snow lies thick now upon olympus, and its scarped sides are bleak and barren, but once, we fancy, the white feet of the muses brushed the dew from the anemones in the morning, and at evening came apollo to sing to the shepherds in the vale. but in this we are merely lending to other ages what we desire, or think we desire, for our own. our historical sense is at fault. every century that produces poetry is, so far, an artificial century, and the work that seems to us the most natural and simple product of its time is probably the result of the most deliberate and self-conscious effort. for nature is always behind the age. it takes a great artist to be thoroughly modern. let us turn to the poems, which have really only the preface to blame for their somewhat late appearance. the best is undoubtedly the weird of michael scott, and these stanzas are a fair example of its power: then michael scott laughed long and loud: 'whan shone the mune ahint yon cloud i speered the towers that saw my birth-- lang, lang, sall wait my cauld grey shroud, lang cauld and weet my bed o' earth!' but as by stair he rode full speed his horse began to pant and bleed; 'win hame, win hame, my bonnie mare, win hame if thou wouldst rest and feed, win hame, we're nigh the house of stair!' but, with a shrill heart-bursten yell the white horse stumbled, plunged, and fell, and loud a summoning voice arose, 'is't white-horse death that rides frae hell, or michael scott that hereby goes?' 'ah, laird of stair, i ken ye weel! avaunt, or i your saul sall steal, an' send ye howling through the wood a wild man-wolf--aye, ye maun reel an' cry upon your holy rood!' there is a good deal of vigour, no doubt, in these lines; but one cannot help asking whether this is to be the common tongue of the future renaissance of romance. are we all to talk scotch, and to speak of the moon as the 'mune,' and the soul as the 'saul'? i hope not. and yet if this renaissance is to be a vital, living thing, it must have its linguistic side. just as the spiritual development of music, and the artistic development of painting, have always been accompanied, if not occasioned, by the discovery of some new instrument or some fresh medium, so, in the case of any important literary movement, half of its strength resides in its language. if it does not bring with it a rich and novel mode of expression, it is doomed either to sterility or to imitation. dialect, archaisms and the like, will not do. take, for instance, another poem of mr. sharp's, a poem which he calls the deith-tide: the weet saut wind is blawing upon the misty shore: as, like a stormy snawing, the deid go streaming o'er:-- the wan drown'd deid sail wildly frae out each drumly wave: it's o and o for the weary sea, and o for a quiet grave. this is simply a very clever pastiche, nothing more, and our language is not likely to be permanently enriched by such words as 'weet,' 'saut,' 'blawing,' and 'snawing.' even 'drumly,' an adjective of which mr. sharp is so fond that he uses it both in prose and verse, seems to me to be hardly an adequate basis for a new romantic movement. however, mr. sharp does not always write in dialect. the son of allan can be read without any difficulty, and phantasy can be read with pleasure. they are both very charming poems in their way, and none the less charming because the cadences of the one recall sister helen, and the motive of the other reminds us of la belle dame sans merci. but those who wish thoroughly to enjoy mr. sharp's poems should not read his preface; just as those who approve of the preface should avoid reading the poems. i cannot help saying that i think the preface a great mistake. the work that follows it is quite inadequate, and there seems little use in heralding a dawn that rose long ago, and proclaiming a renaissance whose first-fruits, if we are to judge them by any high standard of perfection, are of so ordinary a character. * * * * * miss mary robinson has also written a preface to her little volume, poems, ballads, and a garden play, but the preface is not very serious, and does not propose any drastic change or any immediate revolution in english literature. miss robinson's poems have always the charm of delicate music and graceful expression; but they are, perhaps, weakest where they try to be strong, and certainly least satisfying where they seek to satisfy. her fanciful flower-crowned muse, with her tripping steps and pretty, wilful ways, should not write antiphons to the unknowable, or try to grapple with abstract intellectual problems. hers is not the hand to unveil mysteries, nor hers the strength for the solving of secrets. she should never leave her garden, and as for her wandering out into the desert to ask the sphinx questions, that should be sternly forbidden to her. durer's melancolia, that serves as the frontispiece to this dainty book, looks sadly out of place. her seat is with the sibyls, not with the nymphs. what has she to do with shepherdesses piping about darwinism and 'the eternal mind'? however, if the songs of the inner life are not very successful, the spring songs are delightful. they follow each other like wind-blown petals, and make one feel how much more charming flower is than fruit, apple-blossom than apple. there are some artistic temperaments that should never come to maturity, that should always remain in the region of promise and should dread autumn with its harvesting more than winter with its frosts. such seems to me the temperament that this volume reveals. the first poem of the second series, la belle au bois dormant, is worth all the more serious and thoughtful work, and has far more chance of being remembered. it is not always to high aim and lofty ambition that the prize is given. if daphne had gone to meet apollo, she would never have known what laurels are. from these fascinating spring lyrics and idylls we pass to the romantic ballads. one artistic faculty miss robinson certainly possesses--the faculty of imitation. there is an element of imitation in all the arts; it is to be found in literature as much as in painting, and the danger of valuing it too little is almost as great as the danger of setting too high a value upon it. to catch, by dainty mimicry, the very mood and manner of antique work, and yet to retain that touch of modern passion without which the old form would be dull and empty; to win from long-silent lips some faint echo of their music, and to add to it a music of one's own; to take the mode and fashion of a bygone age, and to experiment with it, and search curiously for its possibilities; there is a pleasure in all this. it is a kind of literary acting, and has something of the charm of the art of the stage-player. and how well, on the whole, miss robinson does it! here is the opening of the ballad of rudel: there was in all the world of france no singer half so sweet: the first note of his viol brought a crowd into the street. he stepped as young, and bright, and glad as angel gabriel. and only when we heard him sing our eyes forgot rudel. and as he sat in avignon, with princes at their wine, in all that lusty company was none so fresh and fine. his kirtle's of the arras-blue, his cap of pearls and green; his golden curls fall tumbling round the fairest face i've seen. how gautier would have liked this from the same poem!-- hew the timbers of sandal-wood, and planks of ivory; rear up the shining masts of gold, and let us put to sea. sew the sails with a silken thread that all are silken too; sew them with scarlet pomegranates upon a sheet of blue. rig the ship with a rope of gold and let us put to sea. and now, good-bye to good marseilles, and hey for tripoli! the ballad of the duke of gueldres's wedding is very clever: 'o welcome, mary harcourt, thrice welcome, lady mine; there's not a knight in all the world shall be as true as thine. 'there's venison in the aumbry, mary, there's claret in the vat; come in, and breakfast in the hall where once my mother sat!' o red, red is the wine that flows, and sweet the minstrel's play, but white is mary harcourt upon her wedding-day. o many are the wedding guests that sit on either side; but pale below her crimson flowers and homesick is the bride. miss robinson's critical sense is at once too sound and too subtle to allow her to think that any great renaissance of romance will necessarily follow from the adoption of the ballad-form in poetry; but her work in this style is very pretty and charming, and the tower of st. maur, which tells of the father who built up his little son in the wall of his castle in order that the foundations should stand sure, is admirable in its way. the few touches of archaism in language that she introduces are quite sufficient for their purpose, and though she fully appreciates the importance of the celtic spirit in literature, she does not consider it necessary to talk of 'blawing' and 'snawing.' as for the garden play, our lady of the broken heart, as it is called, the bright, birdlike snatches of song that break in here and there--as the singing does in pippa passes--form a very welcome relief to the somewhat ordinary movement of the blank verse, and suggest to us again where miss robinson's real power lies. not a poet in the true creative sense, she is still a very perfect artist in poetry, using language as one might use a very precious material, and producing her best work by the rejection of the great themes and large intellectual motives that belong to fuller and richer song. when she essays such themes, she certainly fails. her instrument is the reed, not the lyre. only those should sing of death whose song is stronger than death is. * * * * * the collected poems of the author of john halifax, gentleman, have a pathetic interest as the artistic record of a very gracious and comely life. they bring us back to the days when philip bourke marston was young--'philip, my king,' as she called him in the pretty poem of that name; to the days of the great exhibition, with the universal piping about peace; to those later terrible crimean days, when alma and balaclava were words on the lips of our poets; and to days when leonora was considered a very romantic name. leonora, leonora, how the word rolls--leonora. lion-like in full-mouthed sound, marching o'er the metric ground, with a tawny tread sublime. so your name moves, leonora, down my desert rhyme. mrs. craik's best poems are, on the whole, those that are written in blank verse; and these, though not prosaic, remind one that prose was her true medium of expression. but some of the rhymed poems have considerable merit. these may serve as examples of mrs. craik's style: a sketch dost thou thus love me, o thou all beloved, in whose large store the very meanest coin would out-buy my whole wealth? yet here thou comest like a kind heiress from her purple and down uprising, who for pity cannot sleep, but goes forth to the stranger at her gate-- the beggared stranger at her beauteous gate-- and clothes and feeds; scarce blest till she has blest. but dost thou love me, o thou pure of heart, whose very looks are prayers? what couldst thou see in this forsaken pool by the yew-wood's side, to sit down at its bank, and dip thy hand, saying, 'it is so clear!'--and lo! ere long, its blackness caught the shimmer of thy wings, its slimes slid downward from thy stainless palm, its depths grew still, that there thy form might rise. the novice it is near morning. ere the next night fall i shall be made the bride of heaven. then home to my still marriage-chamber i shall come, and spouseless, childless, watch the slow years crawl. these lips will never meet a softer touch than the stone crucifix i kiss; no child will clasp this neck. ah, virgin-mother mild, thy painted bliss will mock me overmuch. this is the last time i shall twist the hair my mother's hand wreathed, till in dust she lay: the name, her name given on my baptism day, this is the last time i shall ever bear. o weary world, o heavy life, farewell! like a tired child that creeps into the dark to sob itself asleep, where none will mark,-- so creep i to my silent convent cell. friends, lovers whom i loved not, kindly hearts who grieve that i should enter this still door, grieve not. closing behind me evermore, me from all anguish, as all joy, it parts. the volume chronicles the moods of a sweet and thoughtful nature, and though many things in it may seem somewhat old-fashioned, it is still very pleasant to read, and has a faint perfume of withered rose-leaves about it. ( ) a book of verses. by william ernest henley. (david nutt.) ( ) romantic ballads and poems of phantasy. by william sharp. (walter scott.) ( ) poems, ballads, and a garden play. by a. mary f. robinson. (fisher unwin.) ( ) poems. by the author of john halifax, gentleman. (macmillan and co.) sir edwin arnold's last volume (pall mall gazette, december , .) writers of poetical prose are rarely good poets. they may crowd their page with gorgeous epithet and resplendent phrase, may pile pelions of adjectives upon ossas of descriptions, may abandon themselves to highly coloured diction and rich luxuriance of imagery, but if their verse lacks the true rhythmical life of verse, if their method is devoid of the self- restraint of the real artist, all their efforts are of very little avail. 'asiatic' prose is possibly useful for journalistic purposes, but 'asiatic' poetry is not to be encouraged. indeed, poetry may be said to need far more self-restraint than prose. its conditions are more exquisite. it produces its effects by more subtle means. it must not be allowed to degenerate into mere rhetoric or mere eloquence. it is, in one sense, the most self-conscious of all the arts, as it is never a means to an end but always an end in itself. sir edwin arnold has a very picturesque or, perhaps we should say, a very pictorial style. he knows india better than any living englishman knows it, and hindoostanee better than any english writer should know it. if his descriptions lack distinction, they have at least the merit of being true, and when he does not interlard his pages with an interminable and intolerable series of foreign words he is pleasant enough. but he is not a poet. he is simply a poetical writer--that is all. however, poetical writers have their uses, and there is a good deal in sir edwin arnold's last volume that will repay perusal. the scene of the story is placed in a mosque attached to the monument of the taj-mahal, and a group composed of a learned mirza, two singing girls with their attendant, and an englishman, is supposed to pass the night there reading the chapter of sa'di upon 'love,' and conversing upon that theme with accompaniments of music and dancing. the englishman is, of course, sir edwin arnold himself: lover of india, too much her lover! for his heart lived there how far soever wandered thence his feet. lady dufferin appears as lady duffreen, the mighty queen's vice-queen! which is really one of the most dreadful blank-verse lines that we have come across for some time past. m. renan is 'a priest of frangestan,' who writes in 'glittering french'; lord tennyson is one we honour for his songs-- greater than sa'di's self-- and the darwinians appear as the 'mollahs of the west,' who hold adam's sons sprung of the sea-slug. all this is excellent fooling in its way, a kind of play-acting in literature; but the best parts of the book are the descriptions of the taj itself, which are extremely elaborate, and the various translations from sa'di with which the volume is interspersed. the great monument shah jahan built for arjamand is instinct with loveliness--not masonry! not architecture! as all others are, but the proud passion of an emperor's love wrought into living stone, which gleams and soars with body of beauty shrining soul and thought, insomuch that it haps as when some face divinely fair unveils before our eyes-- some woman beautiful unspeakably-- and the blood quickens, and the spirit leaps, and will to worship bends the half-yielded knees, which breath forgets to breathe: so is the taj; you see it with the heart, before the eyes have scope to gaze. all white! snow white! cloud white! we cannot say much in praise of the sixth line: insomuch that it haps as when some face: it is curiously awkward and unmusical. but this passage from sa'di is remarkable: when earth, bewildered, shook in earthquake-throes, with mountain-roots he bound her borders close; turkis and ruby in her rocks he stored, and on her green branch hung his crimson rose. he shapes dull seed to fair imaginings; who paints with moisture as he painteth things? look! from the cloud he sheds one drop on ocean, as from the father's loins one drop he brings;-- and out of that he forms a peerless pearl, and, out of this, a cypress boy or girl; utterly wotting all their innermosts, for all to him is visible! uncurl your cold coils, snakes! creep forth, ye thrifty ants! handless and strengthless he provides your wants who from the 'is not' planned the 'is to be,' and life in non-existent void implants. sir edwin arnold suffers, of course, from the inevitable comparison that one cannot help making between his work and the work of edward fitzgerald, and certainly fitzgerald could never have written such a line as 'utterly wotting all their innermosts,' but it is interesting to read almost any translation of those wonderful oriental poets with their strange blending of philosophy and sensuousness, of simple parable or fable and obscure mystic utterance. what we regret most in sir edwin arnold's book is his habit of writing in what really amounts to a sort of 'pigeon english.' when we are told that 'lady duffreen, the mighty queen's vice-queen,' paces among the charpoys of the ward 'no whit afraid of sitla, or of tap'; when the mirza explains-- ag lejao! to light the kallians for the saheb and me, and the attendant obeys with 'achcha! achcha!' when we are invited to listen to 'the vina and the drum' and told about ekkas, byragis, hamals and tamboora, all that we can say is that to such ghazals we are not prepared to say either shamash or afrin. in english poetry we do not want chatkis for the toes, jasams for elbow-bands, and gote and har, bala and mala. this is not local colour; it is a sort of local discoloration. it does not add anything to the vividness of the scene. it does not bring the orient more clearly before us. it is simply an inconvenience to the reader and a mistake on the part of the writer. it may be difficult for a poet to find english synonyms for asiatic expressions, but even if it were impossible it is none the less a poet's duty to find them. we are sorry that a scholar and a man of culture like sir edwin arnold should have been guilty of what is really an act of treason against our literature. but for this error, his book, though not in any sense a work of genius or even of high artistic merit, would still have been of some enduring value. as it is, sir edwin arnold has translated sa'di and some one must translate sir edwin arnold. with sa'di in the garden; or the book of love. by sir edwin arnold, m.a., k.c.i.e., author of the light of asia, etc. (trubner and co.) australian poets (pall mall gazette, december , .) mr. sladen dedicates his anthology (or, perhaps, we should say his herbarium) of australian song to mr. edmund gosse, 'whose exquisite critical faculty is,' he tells us, 'as conspicuous in his poems as in his lectures on poetry.' after so graceful a compliment mr. gosse must certainly deliver a series of discourses upon antipodean art before the cambridge undergraduates, who will, no doubt, be very much interested on hearing about gordon, kendall and domett, to say nothing of the extraordinary collection of mediocrities whom mr. sladen has somewhat ruthlessly dragged from their modest and well-merited obscurity. gordon, however, is very badly represented in mr. sladen's book, the only three specimens of his work that are included being an unrevised fragment, his valedictory poem and an exile's farewell. the latter is, of course, touching, but then the commonplace always touches, and it is a great pity that mr. sladen was unable to come to any financial arrangement with the holders of gordon's copyright. the loss to the volume that now lies before us is quite irreparable. through gordon australia found her first fine utterance in song. still, there are some other singers here well worth studying, and it is interesting to read about poets who lie under the shadow of the gum-tree, gather wattle blossoms and buddawong and sarsaparilla for their loves, and wander through the glades of mount baw-baw listening to the careless raptures of the mopoke. to them november is the wonder with the golden wings, who lays one hand in summer's, one in spring's: january is full of 'breaths of myrrh, and subtle hints of rose-lands'; she is the warm, live month of lustre--she makes glad the land and lulls the strong sad sea; while february is 'the true demeter,' and with rich warm vine-blood splashed from heel to knee, comes radiant through the yellow woodlands. each month, as it passes, calls for new praise and for music different from our own. july is a 'lady, born in wind and rain'; in august across the range, by every scarred black fell, strong winter blows his horn of wild farewell; while october is 'the queen of all the year,' the 'lady of the yellow hair,' who strays 'with blossom-trammelled feet' across the 'haughty-featured hills,' and brings the spring with her. we must certainly try to accustom ourselves to the mopoke and the sarsaparilla plant, and to make the gum-tree and the buddawong as dear to us as the olives and the narcissi of white colonus. after all, the muses are great travellers, and the same foot that stirred the cumnor cowslips may some day brush the fallen gold of the wattle blossoms and tread delicately over the tawny bush-grass. mr. sladen has, of course, a great belief in the possibilities of australian poetry. there are in australia, he tells us, far more writers capable of producing good work than has been assumed. it is only natural, he adds, that this should be so, 'for australia has one of those delightful climates conducive to rest in the open air. the middle of the day is so hot that it is really more healthful to lounge about than to take stronger exercise.' well, lounging in the open air is not a bad school for poets, but it largely depends on the lounger. what strikes one on reading over mr. sladen's collection is the depressing provinciality of mood and manner in almost every writer. page follows page, and we find nothing but echoes without music, reflections without beauty, second-rate magazine verses and third-rate verses for colonial newspapers. poe seems to have had some influence--at least, there are several parodies of his method--and one or two writers have read mr. swinburne; but, on the whole, we have artless nature in her most irritating form. of course australia is young, younger even than america whose youth is now one of her oldest and most hallowed traditions, but the entire want of originality of treatment is curious. and yet not so curious, perhaps, after all. youth is rarely original. there are, however, some exceptions. henry clarence kendall had a true poetic gift. the series of poems on the austral months, from which we have already quoted, is full of beautiful things; landor's rose aylmer is a classic in its way, but kendall's rose lorraine is in parts not unworthy to be mentioned after it; and the poem entitled beyond kerguelen has a marvellous music about it, a wonderful rhythm of words and a real richness of utterance. some of the lines are strangely powerful, and, indeed, in spite of its exaggerated alliteration, or perhaps in consequence of it, the whole poem is a most remarkable work of art. down in the south, by the waste without sail on it-- far from the zone of the blossom and tree-- lieth, with winter and whirlwind and wail on it, ghost of a land by the ghost of a sea. weird is the mist from the summit to base of it; sun of its heaven is wizened and grey; phantom of light is the light on the face of it-- never is night on it, never is day! here is the shore without flower or bird on it; here is no litany sweet of the springs-- only the haughty, harsh thunder is heard on it, only the storm, with a roar in its wings! back in the dawn of this beautiful sphere, on it-- land of the dolorous, desolate face-- beamed the blue day; and the beautiful year on it fostered the leaf and the blossom of grace. grand were the lights of its midsummer noon on it-- mornings of majesty shone on its seas; glitter of star and the glory of moon on it fell, in the march of the musical breeze. valleys and hills, with the whisper of wing in them, dells of the daffodil--spaces impearled, flowered and flashed with the splendour of spring in them, back in the morn of this wonderful world. mr. sladen speaks of alfred domett as 'the author of one of the great poems of a century in which shelley and keats, byron and scott, wordsworth and tennyson have all flourished,' but the extracts he gives from ranolf and amohia hardly substantiate this claim, although the song of the tree-god in the fourth book is clever but exasperating. a midsummer's noon, by charles harpur, 'the grey forefather of australian poetry,' is pretty and graceful, and thomas henry's wood-notes and miss veel's saturday night are worth reading; but, on the whole, the australian poets are extremely dull and prosaic. there seem to be no sirens in the new world. as for mr. sladen himself, he has done his work very conscientiously. indeed, in one instance he almost re-writes an entire poem in consequence of the manuscript having reached him in a mutilated condition. a pleasant land is the land of dreams _at the back of the shining air_! it hath _sunnier_ skies and _sheenier_ streams, and gardens _than earth's more_ fair, is the first verse of this lucubration, and mr. sladen informs us with justifiable pride that the parts printed in italics are from his own pen! this is certainly editing with a vengeance, and we cannot help saying that it reflects more credit on mr. sladen's good nature than on his critical or his poetical powers. the appearance, also, in a volume of 'poems produced in australia,' of selections from horne's orion cannot be defended, especially as we are given no specimen of the poetry horne wrote during the time that he actually was in australia, where he held the office of 'warden of the blue mountains'--a position which, as far as the title goes, is the loveliest ever given to any poet, and would have suited wordsworth admirably: wordsworth, that is to say, at his best, for he not infrequently wrote like the distributor of stamps. however, mr. sladen has shown great energy in the compilation of this bulky volume which, though it does not contain much that is of any artistic value, has a certain historical interest, especially for those who care to study the conditions of intellectual life in the colonies of a great empire. the biographical notices of the enormous crowd of verse-makers which is included in this volume are chiefly from the pen of mr. patchett martin. some of them are not very satisfactory. 'formerly of west australia, now residing at boston, u.s. has published several volumes of poetry,' is a ludicrously inadequate account of such a man as john boyle o'reilly, while in 'poet, essayist, critic, and journalist, one of the most prominent figures in literary london,' few will recognise the industrious mr. william sharp. still, on the whole, we should be grateful for a volume that has given us specimens of kendall's work, and perhaps mr. sladen will some day produce an anthology of australian poetry, not a herbarium of australian verse. his present book has many good qualities, but it is almost unreadable. australian poets, - . edited by douglas b. w. sladen, b.a. oxon. (griffith, farran and co.) some literary notes--i (woman's world, january .) in a recent article on english poetesses, { } i ventured to suggest that our women of letters should turn their attention somewhat more to prose and somewhat less to poetry. women seem to me to possess just what our literature wants--a light touch, a delicate hand, a graceful mode of treatment, and an unstudied felicity of phrase. we want some one who will do for our prose what madame de sevigne did for the prose of france. george eliot's style was far too cumbrous, and charlotte bronte's too exaggerated. however, one must not forget that amongst the women of england there have been some charming letter-writers, and certainly no book can be more delightful reading than mrs. ross's three generations of english women, which has recently appeared. the three englishwomen whose memoirs and correspondence mrs. ross has so admirably edited are mrs. john taylor, mrs. sarah austin, and lady duff gordon, all of them remarkable personalities, and two of them women of brilliant wit and european reputation. mrs. taylor belonged to that great norwich family about whom the duke of sussex remarked that they reversed the ordinary saying that it takes nine tailors to make a man, and was for many years one of the most distinguished figures in the famous society of her native town. her only daughter married john austin, the great authority on jurisprudence, and her salon in paris was the centre of the intellect and culture of her day. lucie duff gordon, the only child of john and sarah austin, inherited the talents of her parents. a beauty, a femme d'esprit, a traveller, and clever writer, she charmed and fascinated her age, and her premature death in egypt was really a loss to our literature. it is to her daughter that we owe this delightful volume of memoirs. first we are introduced to mrs. ross's great-grandmother, mrs. taylor, who 'was called, by her intimate friends, "madame roland of norwich," from her likeness to the portraits of the handsome and unfortunate frenchwoman.' we hear of her darning her boy's grey worsted stockings while holding her own with southey and brougham, and dancing round the tree of liberty with dr. parr when the news of the fall of the bastille was first known. amongst her friends were sir james mackintosh, the most popular man of the day, 'to whom madame de stael wrote, "il n'y a pas de societe sans vous." "c'est tres ennuyeux de diner sans vous; la societe ne va pas quand vous n'etes pas la";' sir james smith, the botanist; crabb robinson; the gurneys; mrs. barbauld; dr. alderson and his charming daughter, amelia opie; and many other well-known people. her letters are extremely sensible and thoughtful. 'nothing at present,' she says in one of them, 'suits my taste so well as susan's latin lessons, and her philosophical old master . . . when we get to cicero's discussions on the nature of the soul, or virgil's fine descriptions, my mind is filled up. life is either a dull round of eating, drinking, and sleeping, or a spark of ethereal fire just kindled. . . . the character of girls must depend upon their reading as much as upon the company they keep. besides the intrinsic pleasure to be derived from solid knowledge, a woman ought to consider it as her best resource against poverty.' this is a somewhat caustic aphorism: 'a romantic woman is a troublesome friend, as she expects you to be as imprudent as herself, and is mortified at what she calls coldness and insensibility.' and this is admirable: 'the art of life is not to estrange oneself from society, and yet not to pay too dear for it.' this, too, is good: 'vanity, like curiosity, is wanted as a stimulus to exertion; indolence would certainly get the better of us if it were not for these two powerful principles'; and there is a keen touch of humour in the following: 'nothing is so gratifying as the idea that virtue and philanthropy are becoming fashionable.' dr. james martineau, in a letter to mrs. ross, gives us a pleasant picture of the old lady returning from market 'weighted by her huge basket, with the shank of a leg of mutton thrust out to betray its contents,' and talking divinely about philosophy, poets, politics, and every intellectual topic of the day. she was a woman of admirable good sense, a type of roman matron, and quite as careful as were the roman matrons to keep up the purity of her native tongue. mrs. taylor, however, was more or less limited to norwich. mrs. austin was for the world. in london, paris, and germany, she ruled and dominated society, loved by every one who knew her. 'she is "my best and brightest" to lord jeffrey; "dear, fair and wise" to sydney smith; "my great ally" to sir james stephen; "sunlight through waste weltering chaos" to thomas carlyle (while he needed her aid); "la petite mere du genre humain" to michael chevalier; "liebes mutterlein" to john stuart mill; and "my own professorin" to charles buller, to whom she taught german, as well as to the sons of mr. james mill.' jeremy bentham, when on his deathbed, gave her a ring with his portrait and some of his hair let in behind. 'there, my dear,' he said, 'it is the only ring i ever gave a woman.' she corresponded with guizot, barthelemy de st. hilaire, the grotes, dr. whewell, the master of trinity, nassau senior, the duchesse d'orleans, victor cousin, and many other distinguished people. her translation of ranke's history of the popes is admirable; indeed, all her literary work was thoroughly well done, and her edition of her husband's province of jurisprudence deserves the very highest praise. two people more unlike than herself and her husband it would have been difficult to find. he was habitually grave and despondent; she was brilliantly handsome, fond of society, in which she shone, and 'with an almost superabundance of energy and animal spirits,' mrs. ross tells us. she married him because she thought him perfect, but he never produced the work of which he was worthy, and of which she knew him to be worthy. her estimate of him in the preface to the jurisprudence is wonderfully striking and simple. 'he was never sanguine. he was intolerant of any imperfection. he was always under the control of severe love of truth. he lived and died a poor man.' she was terribly disappointed in him, but she loved him. some years after his death, she wrote to m. guizot: in the intervals of my study of his works i read his letters to me--_forty-five years of love-letters_, the last as tender and passionate as the first. and how full of noble sentiments! the midday of our lives was clouded and stormy, full of cares and disappointments; but the sunset was bright and serene--as bright as the morning, and _more_ serene. now it is night with me, and must remain so till the dawn of another day. i am always alone--that is, _i live with him_. the most interesting letters in the book are certainly those to m. guizot, with whom she maintained the closest intellectual friendship; but there is hardly one of them that does not contain something clever, or thoughtful, or witty, while those addressed to her, in turn, are very interesting. carlyle writes her letters full of lamentations, the wail of a titan in pain, superbly exaggerated for literary effect. literature, one's sole craft and staff of life, lies broken in abeyance; what room for music amid the braying of innumerable jackasses, the howling of innumerable hyaenas whetting the tooth to eat them up? alas for it! it is a sick disjointed time; neither shall we ever mend it; at best let us hope to mend ourselves. i declare i sometimes think of throwing down the pen altogether as a worthless weapon; and leading out a colony of these poor starving drudges to the waste places of their old mother earth, when for sweat of their brow bread _will_ rise for them; it were perhaps the worthiest service that at this moment could be rendered our old world to throw open for it the doors of the new. thither must they come at last, 'bursts of eloquence' will do nothing; men are starving and will try many things before they die. but poor i, ach gott! i am no hengist or alaric; only a writer of articles in bad prose; stick to thy last, o tutor; the pen is not worthless, it is omnipotent to those who have faith. henri beyle (stendhal), the great, i am often tempted to think the greatest of french novelists, writes her a charming letter about nuances. 'it seems to me,' he says, 'that except when they read shakespeare, byron, or sterne, no englishman understands "nuances"; we adore them. a fool says to a woman, "i love you"; the words mean nothing, he might as well say "olli batachor"; it is the nuance which gives force to the meaning.' in mrs. austin writes to victor cousin: 'i have seen young gladstone, a distinguished tory who wants to re-establish education based on the church in quite a catholic form'; and we find her corresponding with mr. gladstone on the subject of education. 'if you are strong enough to provide motives and checks,' she says to him, 'you may do two blessed acts--reform your clergy and teach your people. as it is, how few of them conceive what it is to teach a people'! mr. gladstone replies at great length, and in many letters, from which we may quote this passage: you are for pressing and urging the people to their profit against their inclination: so am i. you set little value upon all merely technical instruction, upon all that fails to touch the inner nature of man: so do i. and here i find ground of union broad and deep-laid . . . i more than doubt whether your idea, namely that of raising man to social sufficiency and morality, can be accomplished, except through the ancient religion of christ; . . . or whether, the principles of eclecticism are legitimately applicable to the gospel; or whether, if we find ourselves in a state of incapacity to work through the church, we can remedy the defect by the adoption of principles contrary to hers . . . but indeed i am most unfit to pursue the subject; private circumstances of no common interest are upon me, as i have become very recently engaged to miss glynne, and i hope your recollections will enable you in some degree to excuse me. lord jeffrey has a very curious and suggestive letter on popular education, in which he denies, or at least doubts, the effect of this education on morals. he, however, supports it on the ground 'that it will increase the enjoyment of individuals,' which is certainly a very sensible claim. humboldt writes to her about an old indian language which was preserved by a parrot, the tribe who spoke it having been exterminated, and about 'young darwin,' who had just published his first book. here are some extracts from her own letters: i heard from lord lansdowne two or three days ago. . . . i think he is ce que nous avons de mieux. he wants only the energy that great ambition gives. he says, 'we shall have a parliament of railway kings' . . . what can be worse than that?--the deification of money by a whole people. as lord brougham says, we have no right to give ourselves pharisaical airs. i must give you a story sent to me. mrs. hudson, the railway queen, was shown a bust of marcus aurelius at lord westminster's, on which she said, 'i suppose that is not the present marquis.' to gouter this, you must know that the extreme vulgar (hackney coachmen, etc.) in england pronounce 'marquis' very like 'marcus.' dec, th.--went to savigny's. nobody was there but w. grimm and his wife and a few men. grimm told me he had received two volumes of norwegian fairy-tales, and that they were delightful. talking of them, i said, 'your children appear to be the happiest in the world; they live in the midst of fairytales.' 'ah,' said he, 'i must tell you about that. when we were at gottingen, somebody spoke to my little son about his father's mahrchen. he had read them, but never thought of their being mine. he came running to me, and said with an offended air, "father, they say you wrote those fairy-tales; surely you never invented such silly rubbish?" he thought it below my dignity.' savigny told a volksmahrchen too: 'st. anselm was grown old and infirm, and lay on the ground among thorns and thistles. der liebe gott said to him, "you are very badly lodged there; why don't you build yourself a house?" "before i take the trouble," said anselm, "i should like to know how long i have to live." "about thirty years," said der liebe gott. "oh, for so short a time," replied he, "it's not worth while," and turned himself round among the thistles.' dr. franck told me a story of which i had never heard before. voltaire had for some reason or other taken a grudge against the prophet habakkuk, and affected to find in him things he never wrote. somebody took the bible and began to demonstrate to him that he was mistaken. 'c'est egal,' he said, impatiently, 'habakkuk etait capable de tout!' oct. , . i am not in love with the richtung (tendency) of our modern novelists. there is abundance of talent; but writing a pretty, graceful, touching, yet pleasing story is the last thing our writers nowadays think of. their novels are party pamphlets on political or social questions, like sybil, or alton locke, or mary barton, or uncle tom; or they are the most minute and painful dissections of the least agreeable and beautiful parts of our nature, like those of miss bronte--jane eyre and villette; or they are a kind of martyrology, like mrs. marsh's emilia wyndham, which makes you almost doubt whether any torments the heroine would have earned by being naughty could exceed those she incurred by her virtue. where, oh! where is the charming, humane, gentle spirit that dictated the vicar of wakefield--the spirit which goethe so justly calls versohnend (reconciling), with all the weaknesses and woes of humanity? . . . have you read thackeray's esmond? it is a curious and very successful attempt to imitate the style of our old novelists. . . . which of mrs. gore's novels are translated? they are very clever, lively, worldly, bitter, disagreeable, and entertaining. . . . miss austen's--are they translated? they are not new, and are dutch paintings of every-day people--very clever, very true, very _unaesthetic_, but amusing. i have not seen ruth, by mrs. gaskell. i hear it much admired--and blamed. it is one of the many proofs of the desire women now have to friser questionable topics, and to poser insoluble moral problems. george sand has turned their heads in that direction. i think a few _broad_ scenes or hearty jokes a la fielding were very harmless in comparison. they _confounded_ nothing. . . . the heir of redcliffe i have not read. . . . i am not worthy of superhuman flights of virtue--in a novel. i want to see how people act and suffer who are as good-for-nothing as i am myself. then i have the sinful pretension to be amused, whereas all our novelists want to reform us, and to show us what a hideous place this world is: ma foi, je ne le sais que trap, without their help. the head of the family has some merits . . . but there is too much affliction and misery and frenzy. the heroine is one of those creatures now so common (in novels), who remind me of a poor bird tied to a stake (as was once the cruel sport of boys) to be 'shyed' at (i.e. pelted) till it died; only our gentle lady-writers at the end of all untie the poor battered bird, and assure us that it is never the worse for all the blows it has had--nay, the better--and that now, with its broken wings and torn feathers and bruised body, it is going to be quite happy. no, fair ladies, you know that it is not so--_resigned_, if you please, but make me no shams of happiness out of such wrecks. in politics mrs. austin was a philosophical tory. radicalism she detested, and she and most of her friends seem to have regarded it as moribund. 'the radical party is evidently effete,' she writes to m. victor cousin; the probable 'leader of the tory party' is mr. gladstone. 'the people must be instructed, must be guided, must be, in short, governed,' she writes elsewhere; and in a letter to dr. whewell, she says that the state of things in france fills 'me with the deepest anxiety on one point,--the point on which the permanency of our institutions and our salvation as a nation turn. are our higher classes able to keep the lead of the rest? if they are, we are safe; if not, i agree with my poor dear charles buller--_our_ turn must come. now cambridge and oxford must really look to this.' the belief in the power of the universities to stem the current of democracy is charming. she grew to regard carlyle as 'one of the dissolvents of the age--as mischievous as his extravagances will let him be'; speaks of kingsley and maurice as 'pernicious'; and talks of john stuart mill as a 'demagogue.' she was no doctrinaire. 'one ounce of education demanded is worth a pound imposed. it is no use to give the meat before you give the hunger.' she was delighted at a letter of st. hilaire's, in which he said, 'we have a system and no results; you have results and no system.' yet she had a deep sympathy with the wants of the people. she was horrified at something babbage told her of the population of some of the manufacturing towns who are _worked out_ before they attain to thirty years of age. 'but i am persuaded that the remedy will not, cannot come from the people,' she adds. many of her letters are concerned with the question of the higher education of women. she discusses buckle's lecture on 'the influence of women upon the progress of knowledge,' admits to m. guizot that women's intellectual life is largely coloured by the emotions, but adds: 'one is not precisely a fool because one's opinions are greatly influenced by one's affections. the opinions of men are often influenced by worse things.' dr. whewell consults her about lecturing women on plato, being slightly afraid lest people should think it ridiculous; comte writes her elaborate letters on the relation of women to progress; and mr. gladstone promises that mrs. gladstone will carry out at hawarden the suggestions contained in one of her pamphlets. she was always very practical, and never lost her admiration for plain sewing. all through the book we come across interesting and amusing things. she gets st. hilaire to order a large, sensible bonnet for her in paris, which was at once christened the 'aristotelian,' and was supposed to be the only useful bonnet in england. grote has to leave paris after the coup d'etat, he tells her, because he cannot bear to see the establishment of a greek tyrant. alfred de vigny, macaulay, john stirling, southey, alexis de tocqueville, hallam, and jean jacques ampere all contribute to these pleasant pages. she seems to have inspired the warmest feelings of friendship in those who knew her. guizot writes to her: 'madame de stael used to say that the best thing in the world was a serious frenchman. i turn the compliment, and say that the best thing in the world is an affectionate englishman. how much more an englishwoman! given equal qualities, a woman is always more charming than a man.' lucie austin, afterwards lady duff gordon, was born in . her chief playfellow was john stuart mill, and jeremy bentham's garden was her playground. she was a lovely, romantic child, who was always wanting the flowers to talk to her, and used to invent the most wonderful stories about animals, of whom she was passionately fond. in mrs. austin decided on leaving england, and sydney smith wrote his immortal letter to the little girl: lucie, lucie, my dear child, don't tear your frock: tearing frocks is not of itself a proof of genius. but write as your mother writes, act as your mother acts: be frank, loyal, affectionate, simple, honest, and then integrity or laceration of frock is of little import. and lucie, dear child, mind your arithmetic. you know in the first sum of yours i ever saw there was a mistake. you had carried two (as a cab is licensed to do), and you ought, dear lucie, to have carried but one. is this a trifle? what would life be without arithmetic but a scene of horrors? you are going to boulogne, the city of debts, peopled by men who have never understood arithmetic. by the time you return, i shall probably have received my first paralytic stroke, and shall have lost all recollection of you. therefore i now give you my parting advice--don't marry anybody who has not a tolerable understanding and a thousand a year. and god bless you, dear child. at boulogne she sat next heine at table d'hote. 'he heard me speak german to my mother, and soon began to talk to me, and then said, "when you go back to england, you can tell your friends that you have seen heinrich heine." i replied, "and who is heinrich heine?" he laughed heartily and took no offence at my ignorance; and we used to lounge on the end of the pier together, where he told me stories in which fish, mermaids, water-sprites and a very funny old french fiddler with a poodle were mixed up in the most fanciful manner, sometimes humorous, and very often pathetic, especially when the water-sprites brought him greetings from the "nord see." he was . . . so kind to me and so sarcastic to every one else.' twenty years afterwards the little girl whose 'braune augen' heine had celebrated in his charming poem wenn ich an deinem hause, used to go and see the dying poet in paris. 'it does one good,' he said to her, 'to see a woman who does not carry about a broken heart, to be mended by all sorts of men, like the women here, who do not see that a total want of heart is their real failing.' on another occasion he said to her: 'i have now made peace with the whole world, and at last also with god, who sends thee to me as a beautiful angel of death: i shall certainly soon die.' lady duff gordon said to him: 'poor poet, do you still retain such splendid illusions, that you transform a travelling englishwoman into azrael? that used not to be the case, for you always disliked us.' he answered: 'yes, i do not know what possessed me to dislike the english, . . . it really was only petulance; i never hated them, indeed, i never knew them. i was only once in england, but knew no one, and found london very dreary, and the people and the streets odious. but england has revenged herself well; she has sent me most excellent friends--thyself and milnes, that good milnes.' there are delightful letters from dicky doyle here, with the most amusing drawings, one of the present sir robert peel as he made his maiden speech in the house being excellent; and the various descriptions of hassan's performances are extremely amusing. hassan was a black boy, who had been turned away by his master because he was going blind, and was found by lady duff gordon one night sitting on her doorstep. she took care of him, and had him cured, and he seems to have been a constant source of delight to every one. on one occasion, 'when prince louis napoleon (the late emperor of the french) came in unexpectedly, he gravely said: "please, my lady, i ran out and bought twopenny worth of sprats for the prince, and for the honour of the house."' here is an amusing letter from mrs. norton: my dear lucie,--we have never thanked you for the red pots, which no early christian should be without, and which add that finishing stroke to the splendour of our demesne, which was supposed to depend on a roc's egg, in less intelligent times. we have now a warm pompeian appearance, and the constant contemplation of these classical objects favours the beauty of the facial line; for what can be deduced from the great fact, apparent in all the states of antiquity, that _straight noses_ were the ancient custom, but the logical assumption that the constant habit of turning up the nose at unsightly objects--such as the national gallery and other offensive and obtrusive things--has produced the modern divergence from the true and proper line of profile? i rejoice to think that we ourselves are exempt. i attribute this to our love of pompeian pots (on account of the beauty and distinction of this pot's shape i spell it with a big p), which has kept us straight in a world of crookedness. the pursuit of profiles under difficulties--how much more rare than a pursuit of knowledge! talk of setting good examples before our children! bah! let us set good pompeian pots before our children, and when they grow up they will not depart from them. lady duff gordon's letters from the cape, and her brilliant translation of the amber witch, are, of course, well known. the latter book was, with lady wilde's translation of sidonia the sorceress, my favourite romantic reading when a boy. her letters from egypt are wonderfully vivid and picturesque. here is an interesting bit of art criticism: sheykh yoosuf laughed so heartily over a print in an illustrated paper from a picture of hilton's of rebekah at the well, with the old 'wekeel' of 'sidi ibraheem' (abraham's chief servant) _kneeling_ before the girl he was sent to fetch, like an old fool without his turban, and rebekah and the other girls in queer fancy dresses, and the camels with snouts like pigs. 'if the painter could not go into "es sham" to see how the arab really look,' said sheykh yoosuf, 'why did he not paint a well in england, with girls like english peasants--at least it would have looked natural to english people? and the wekeel would not seem so like a madman if he had taken off a hat!' i cordially agree with yoosuf's art criticism. _fancy_ pictures of eastern things are hopelessly absurd. mrs. ross has certainly produced a most fascinating volume, and her book is one of the books of the season. it is edited with tact and judgment. * * * * * caroline, by lady lindsay, is certainly lady lindsay's best work. it is written in a very clever modern style, and is as full of esprit and wit as it is of subtle psychological insight. caroline is an heiress, who, coming downstairs at a continental hotel, falls into the arms of a charming, penniless young man. the hero of the novel is the young man's friend, lord lexamont, who makes the 'great renunciation,' and succeeds in being fine without being priggish, and quixotic without being ridiculous. miss ffoulkes, the elderly spinster, is a capital character, and, indeed, the whole book is cleverly written. it has also the advantage of being in only one volume. the influence of mudie on literature, the baneful influence of the circulating library, is clearly on the wane. the gain to literature is incalculable. english novels were becoming very tedious with their three volumes of padding--at least, the second volume was always padding--and extremely indigestible. a reckless punster once remarked to me, apropos of english novels, that 'the proof of the padding is in the eating,' and certainly english fiction has been very heavy--heavy with the best intentions. lady lindsay's book is a sign that better things are in store for us. she is brief and bright. * * * * * what are the best books to give as christmas presents to good girls who are always pretty, or to pretty girls who are occasionally good? people are so fond of giving away what they do not want themselves, that charity is largely on the increase. but with this kind of charity i have not much sympathy. if one gives away a book, it should be a charming book--so charming, that one regrets having given it, and would not take it back. looking over the christmas books sent to me by various publishers, i find that these are the best and the most pleasing: gleanings from the 'graphic,' by randolph caldecott, a most fascinating volume full of sketches that have real wit and humour of line, and are not simply dependent on what the french call the legende, the literary explanation; meg's friend, by alice corkran, one of our most delicate and graceful prose-writers in the sphere of fiction, and one whose work has the rare artistic qualities of refinement and simplicity; under false colours, by sarah doudney, an excellent story; the fisherman's daughter, by florence montgomery, the author of misunderstood, a tale with real charm of idea and treatment; under a cloud, by the author of the atelier du lys, and quite worthy of its author; the third miss st. quentin, by mrs. molesworth, and a christmas posy from the same fascinating pen, and with delightful illustrations by walter crane. miss rosa mulholland's giannetta and miss agnes giberne's ralph hardcastle's will are also admirable books for presents, and the bound volume of atalanta has much that is delightful both in art and in literature. the prettiest, indeed the most beautiful, book from an artistic point of view is undoubtedly mr. walter crane's flora's feast. it is an imaginative masque of flowers, and as lovely in colour as it is exquisite in design. it shows us the whole pomp and pageant of the year, the snowdrops like white-crested knights, the little naked crocus kneeling to catch the sunlight in his golden chalice, the daffodils blowing their trumpets like young hunters, the anemones with their wind-blown raiment, the green-kirtled marsh-marigolds, and the 'lady-smocks all silver-white,' tripping over the meadows like arcadian milk-maids. buttercups are here, and the white-plumed thorn in spiky armour, and the crown-imperial borne in stately procession, and red-bannered tulips, and hyacinths with their spring bells, and chaucer's daisy-- small and sweet, si douce est la marguerite. gorgeous peonies, and columbines 'that drew the car of venus,' and the rose with her lover, and the stately white-vestured lilies, and wide staring ox-eyes, and scarlet poppies pass before us. there are primroses and corncockles, chrysanthemums in robes of rich brocade, sunflowers and tall hollyhocks, and pale christmas roses. the designs for the daffodils, the wild roses, the convolvulus, and the hollyhock are admirable, and would be beautiful in embroidery or in any precious material. indeed, any one who wishes to find beautiful designs cannot do better than get the book. it is, in its way, a little masterpiece, and its grace and fancy, and beauty of line and colour, cannot be over-estimated. the greeks gave human form to wood and stream, and saw nature best in naiad or in dryad. mr. crane, with something of gothic fantasy, has caught the greek feeling, the love of personification, the passion for representing things under the conditions of the human form. the flowers are to him so many knights and ladies, page-boys or shepherd- boys, divine nymphs or simple girls, and in their fair bodies or fanciful raiment one can see the flower's very form and absolute essence, so that one loves their artistic truth no less than their artistic beauty. this book contains some of the best work mr. crane has ever done. his art is never so successful as when it is entirely remote from life. the slightest touch of actuality seems to kill it. it lives, or should live, in a world of its own fashioning. it is decorative in its complete subordination of fact to beauty of effect, in the grandeur of its curves and lines, in its entirely imaginative treatment. almost every page of this book gives a suggestion for some rich tapestry, some fine screen, some painted cassone, some carving in wood or ivory. * * * * * from messrs. hildesheimer and faulkner i have received a large collection of christmas cards and illustrated books. one of the latter, an edition de luxe of sheridan's here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen, is very cleverly illustrated by miss alice havers and mr. ernest wilson. it seems to me, however, that there is a danger of modern illustration becoming too pictorial. what we need is good book-ornament, decorative ornament that will go with type and printing, and give to each page a harmony and unity of effect. merely dotting a page with reproductions of water-colour drawings will not do. it is true that japanese art, which is essentially decorative, is pictorial also. but the japanese have the most wonderful delicacy of touch, and with a science so subtle that it gives the effect of exquisite accident, they can by mere placing make an undecorated space decorative. there is also an intimate connection between their art and their handwriting or printed characters. they both go together, and show the same feeling for form and line. our aim should be to discover some mode of illustration that will harmonise with the shapes of our letters. at present there is a discord between our pictorial illustrations and our unpictorial type. the former are too essentially imitative in character, and often disturb a page instead of decorating it. however, i suppose we must regard most of these christmas books merely as books of pictures, with a running accompaniment of explanatory text. as the text, as a rule, consists of poetry, this is putting the poet in a very subordinate position; but the poetry in the books of this kind is not, as a rule, of a very high order of excellence. ( ) three generations of english women. memoirs and correspondence of susannah taylor, sarah austin, and lady duff gordon. by janet ross, author of italian sketches, land of manfred, etc. (fisher unwin.) ( ) caroline. by lady lindsay. (bentley and son.) ( ) gleanings from the 'graphic.' by randolph caldecott. (routledge and sons.) ( ) meg's friend. by alice corkran. (blackie and sons.) ( ) under false colours. by sarah doudney. (blackie and sons.) ( ) the fisherman's daughter. by florence montgomery. (hatchards.) ( ) under a cloud. by the author of the atelier du lys. (hatchards.) ( ) the third miss st. quentin. by mrs. molesworth. (hatchards.) ( ) a christmas posy. by mrs. molesworth. illustrated by walter crane. (hatchards.) ( ) giannetta. a girl's story of herself. by rosa mulholland. (blackie and sons.) ( ) ralph hardcastle's will. by agnes giberne. (hatchards.) ( ) flora's feast. a masque of flowers. penned and pictured by walter crane. (cassell and co.) ( ) here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen. by richard brinsley sheridan. illustrated by alice havers and ernest wilson. (hildesheimer and faulkner.) poetry and prison (pall mall gazette, january , .) prison has had an admirable effect on mr. wilfrid blunt as a poet. the love sonnets of proteus, in spite of their clever musset-like modernities and their swift brilliant wit, were but affected or fantastic at best. they were simply the records of passing moods and moments, of which some were sad and others sweet, and not a few shameful. their subject was not of high or serious import. they contained much that was wilful and weak. in vinculis, upon the other hand, is a book that stirs one by its fine sincerity of purpose, its lofty and impassioned thought, its depth and ardour of intense feeling. 'imprisonment,' says mr. blunt in his preface, 'is a reality of discipline most useful to the modern soul, lapped as it is in physical sloth and self-indulgence. like a sickness or a spiritual retreat it purifies and ennobles; and the soul emerges from it stronger and more self-contained.' to him, certainly, it has been a mode of purification. the opening sonnets, composed in the bleak cell of galway gaol, and written down on the fly-leaves of the prisoner's prayer-book, are full of things nobly conceived and nobly uttered, and show that though mr. balfour may enforce 'plain living' by his prison regulations, he cannot prevent 'high thinking' or in any way limit or constrain the freedom of a man's soul. they are, of course, intensely personal in expression. they could not fail to be so. but the personality that they reveal has nothing petty or ignoble about it. the petulant cry of the shallow egoist which was the chief characteristic of the love sonnets of proteus is not to be found here. in its place we have wild grief and terrible scorn, fierce rage and flame-like passion. such a sonnet as the following comes out of the very fire of heart and brain: god knows, 'twas not with a fore-reasoned plan i left the easeful dwellings of my peace, and sought this combat with ungodly man, and ceaseless still through years that do not cease have warred with powers and principalities. my natural soul, ere yet these strifes began, was as a sister diligent to please and loving all, and most the human clan. god knows it. and he knows how the world's tears touched me. and he is witness of my wrath, how it was kindled against murderers who slew for gold, and how upon their path i met them. since which day the world in arms strikes at my life with angers and alarms. and this sonnet has all the strange strength of that despair which is but the prelude to a larger hope: i thought to do a deed of chivalry, an act of worth, which haply in her sight who was my mistress should recorded be and of the nations. and, when thus the fight faltered and men once bold with faces white turned this and that way in excuse to flee, i only stood, and by the foeman's might was overborne and mangled cruelly. then crawled i to her feet, in whose dear cause i made this venture, and 'behold,' i said, 'how i am wounded for thee in these wars.' but she, 'poor cripple, would'st thou i should wed a limbless trunk?' and laughing turned from me. yet she was fair, and her name 'liberty.' the sonnet beginning a prison is a convent without god-- poverty, chastity, obedience its precepts are: is very fine; and this, written just after entering the gaol, is powerful: naked i came into the world of pleasure, and naked come i to this house of pain. here at the gate i lay down my life's treasure, my pride, my garments and my name with men. the world and i henceforth shall be as twain, no sound of me shall pierce for good or ill these walls of grief. nor shall i hear the vain laughter and tears of those who love me still. within, what new life waits me! little ease, cold lying, hunger, nights of wakefulness, harsh orders given, no voice to soothe or please, poor thieves for friends, for books rules meaningless; this is the grave--nay, hell. yet, lord of might, still in thy light my spirit shall see light. but, indeed, all the sonnets are worth reading, and the canon of aughrim, the longest poem in the book, is a most masterly and dramatic description of the tragic life of the irish peasant. literature is not much indebted to mr. balfour for his sophistical defence of philosophic doubt which is one of the dullest books we know, but it must be admitted that by sending mr. blunt to gaol he has converted a clever rhymer into an earnest and deep-thinking poet. the narrow confines of the prison cell seem to suit the 'sonnet's scanty plot of ground,' and an unjust imprisonment for a noble cause strengthens as well as deepens the nature. in vinculis. by wilfrid scawen blunt, author of the wind and the whirlwind, the love sonnets of proteus, etc. etc. (kegan paul.) the gospel according to walt whitman (pall mall gazette, january , .) 'no one will get at my verses who insists upon viewing them as a literary performance . . . or as aiming mainly toward art and aestheticism.' 'leaves of grass . . . has mainly been the outcropping of my own emotional and other personal nature--an attempt, from first to last, to put _a person_, a human being (myself, in the latter half of the nineteenth century in america,) freely, fully and truly on record. i could not find any similar personal record in current literature that satisfied me.' in these words walt whitman gives us the true attitude we should adopt towards his work, having, indeed, a much saner view of the value and meaning of that work than either his eloquent admirers or noisy detractors can boast of possessing. his last book, november boughs, as he calls it, published in the winter of the old man's life, reveals to us, not indeed a soul's tragedy, for its last note is one of joy and hope, and noble and unshaken faith in all that is fine and worthy of such faith, but certainly the drama of a human soul, and puts on record with a simplicity that has in it both sweetness and strength the record of his spiritual development, and of the aim and motive both of the manner and the matter of his work. his strange mode of expression is shown in these pages to have been the result of deliberate and self-conscious choice. the 'barbaric yawp' which he sent over 'the roofs of the world' so many years ago, and which wrung from mr. swinburne's lip such lofty panegyric in song and such loud clamorous censure in prose, appears here in what will be to many an entirely new light. for in his very rejection of art walt whitman is an artist. he tried to produce a certain effect by certain means and he succeeded. there is much method in what many have termed his madness, too much method, indeed, some may be tempted to fancy. in the story of his life, as he tells it to us, we find him at the age of sixteen beginning a definite and philosophical study of literature: summers and falls, i used to go off, sometimes for a week at a stretch, down in the country, or to long island's seashores--there, in the presence of outdoor influences, i went over thoroughly the old and new testaments, and absorb'd (probably to better advantage for me than in any library or indoor room--it makes such difference _where_ you read) shakspere, ossian, the best translated versions i could get of homer, eschylus, sophocles, the old german nibelungen, the ancient hindoo poems, and one or two other masterpieces, dante's among them. as it happened, i read the latter mostly in an old wood. the iliad . . . i read first thoroughly on the peninsula of orient, northeast end of long island, in a sheltered hollow of rock and sand, with the sea on each side. (i have wonder'd since why i was not overwhelmed by those mighty masters. likely because i read them, as described, in the full presence of nature, under the sun, with the far-spreading landscape and vistas, or the sea rolling in.) edgar allan poe's amusing bit of dogmatism that, for our occasions and our day, 'there can be no such thing as a long poem,' fascinated him. 'the same thought had been haunting my mind before,' he said, 'but poe's argument . . . work'd the sum out, and proved it to me,' and the english translation of the bible seems to have suggested to him the possibility of a poetic form which, while retaining the spirit of poetry, would still be free from the trammels of rhyme and of a definite metrical system. having thus, to a certain degree, settled upon what one might call the 'technique' of whitmanism, he began to brood upon the nature of that spirit which was to give life to the strange form. the central point of the poetry of the future seemed to him to be necessarily 'an identical body and soul, a personality,' in fact, which personality, he tells us frankly, 'after many considerations and ponderings i deliberately settled should be myself.' however, for the true creation and revealing of this personality, at first only dimly felt, a new stimulus was needed. this came from the civil war. after describing the many dreams and passions of his boyhood and early manhood, he goes on to say: these, however, and much more might have gone on and come to naught (almost positively would have come to naught,) if a sudden, vast, terrible, direct and indirect stimulus for new and national declamatory expression had not been given to me. it is certain, i say, that although i had made a start before, only from the occurrence of the secession war, and what it show'd me as by flashes of lightning, with the emotional depths it sounded and arous'd (of course, i don't mean in my own heart only, i saw it just as plainly in others, in millions)--that only from the strong flare and provocation of that war's sights and scenes the final reasons-for-being of an autochthonic and passionate song definitely came forth. i went down to the war fields of virginia . . . lived thenceforward in camp--saw great battles and the days and nights afterward--partook of all the fluctuations, gloom, despair, hopes again arous'd, courage evoked--death readily risk'd--_the cause_, too--along and filling those agonistic and lurid following years . . . the real parturition years . . . of this henceforth homogeneous union. without those three or four years and the experiences they gave, leaves of grass would not now be existing. having thus obtained the necessary stimulus for the quickening and awakening of the personal self, some day to be endowed with universality, he sought to find new notes of song, and, passing beyond the mere passion for expression, he aimed at 'suggestiveness' first. i round and finish little, if anything; and could not, consistently with my scheme. the reader will have his or her part to do, just as much as i have had mine. i seek less to state or display any theme or thought, and more to bring you, reader, into the atmosphere of the theme or thought--there to pursue your own flight. another 'impetus-word' is comradeship, and other 'word-signs' are good cheer, content and hope. individuality, especially, he sought for: i have allowed the stress of my poems from beginning to end to bear upon american individuality and assist it--not only because that is a great lesson in nature, amid all her generalising laws, but as counterpoise to the leveling tendencies of democracy--and for other reasons. defiant of ostensible literary and other conventions, i avowedly chant 'the great pride of man in himself,' and permit it to be more or less a motif of nearly all my verse. i think this pride indispensable to an american. i think it not inconsistent with obedience, humility, deference, and self-questioning. a new theme also was to be found in the relation of the sexes, conceived in a natural, simple and healthy form, and he protests against poor mr. william rossetti's attempt to bowdlerise and expurgate his song. from another point of view leaves of grass is avowedly the song of sex and amativeness, and even animality--though meanings that do not usually go along with these words are behind all, and will duly emerge; and all are sought to be lifted into a different light and atmosphere. of this feature, intentionally palpable in a few lines, i shall only say the espousing principle of those lines so gives breath to my whole scheme that the bulk of the pieces might as well have been left unwritten were those lines omitted. . . . universal as are certain facts and symptoms of communities . . . there is nothing so rare in modern conventions and poetry as their normal recognizance. literature is always calling in the doctor for consultation and confession, and always giving evasions and swathing suppressions in place of that 'heroic nudity,' on which only a genuine diagnosis . . . can be built. and in respect to editions of leaves of grass in time to come (if there should be such) i take occasion now to confirm those lines with the settled convictions and deliberate renewals of thirty years, and to hereby prohibit, as far as word of mine can do so, any elision of them. but beyond all these notes and moods and motives is the lofty spirit of a grand and free acceptance of all things that are worthy of existence. he desired, he says, 'to formulate a poem whose every thought or fact should directly or indirectly be or connive at an implicit belief in the wisdom, health, mystery, beauty of every process, every concrete object, every human or other existence, not only consider'd from the point of view of all, but of each.' his two final utterances are that 'really great poetry is always . . . the result of a national spirit, and not the privilege of a polish'd and select few'; and that 'the strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.' such are the views contained in the opening essay a backward glance o'er travel'd roads, as he calls it; but there are many other essays in this fascinating volume, some on poets such as burns and lord tennyson, for whom walt whitman has a profound admiration; some on old actors and singers, the elder booth, forrest, alboni and mario being his special favourites; others on the native indians, on the spanish element in american nationality, on western slang, on the poetry of the bible, and on abraham lincoln. but walt whitman is at his best when he is analysing his own work and making schemes for the poetry of the future. literature, to him, has a distinctly social aim. he seeks to build up the masses by 'building up grand individuals.' and yet literature itself must be preceded by noble forms of life. 'the best literature is always the result of something far greater than itself--not the hero but the portrait of the hero. before there can be recorded history or poem there must be the transaction.' certainly, in walt whitman's views there is a largeness of vision, a healthy sanity and a fine ethical purpose. he is not to be placed with the professional litterateurs of his country, boston novelists, new york poets and the like. he stands apart, and the chief value of his work is in its prophecy, not in its performance. he has begun a prelude to larger themes. he is the herald to a new era. as a man he is the precursor of a fresh type. he is a factor in the heroic and spiritual evolution of the human being. if poetry has passed him by, philosophy will take note of him. november boughs. by walt whitman. (alexander gardner.) the new president (pall mall gazette, january , .) in a little book that he calls the enchanted island mr. wyke bayliss, the new president of the royal society of british artists, has given his gospel of art to the world. his predecessor in office had also a gospel of art but it usually took the form of an autobiography. mr. whistler always spelt art, and we believe still spells it, with a capital 'i.' however, he was never dull. his brilliant wit, his caustic satire, and his amusing epigrams, or, perhaps, we should say epitaphs, on his contemporaries, made his views on art as delightful as they were misleading and as fascinating as they were unsound. besides, he introduced american humour into art criticism, and for this, if for no other reason, he deserves to be affectionately remembered. mr. wyke bayliss, upon the other hand, is rather tedious. the last president never said much that was true, but the present president never says anything that is new; and, if art be a fairy-haunted wood or an enchanted island, we must say that we prefer the old puck to the fresh prospero. water is an admirable thing--at least, the greeks said it was--and mr. ruskin is an admirable writer; but a combination of both is a little depressing. still, it is only right to add that mr. wyke bayliss, at his best, writes very good english. mr. whistler, for some reason or other, always adopted the phraseology of the minor prophets. possibly it was in order to emphasise his well-known claims to verbal inspiration, or perhaps he thought with voltaire that habakkuk etait capable de tout, and wished to shelter himself under the shield of a definitely irresponsible writer none of whose prophecies, according to the french philosopher, has ever been fulfilled. the idea was clever enough at the beginning, but ultimately the manner became monotonous. the spirit of the hebrews is excellent but their mode of writing is not to be imitated, and no amount of american jokes will give it that modernity which is essential to a good literary style. admirable as are mr. whistler's fireworks on canvas, his fireworks in prose are abrupt, violent and exaggerated. however, oracles, since the days of the pythia, have never been remarkable for style, and the modest mr. wyke bayliss is as much mr. whistler's superior as a writer as he is his inferior as a painter and an artist. indeed, some of the passages in this book are so charmingly written and with such felicity of phrase that we cannot help feeling that the president of the british artists, like a still more famous president of our day, can express himself far better through the medium of literature than he can through the medium of line and colour. this, however, applies only to mr. wyke bayliss's prose. his poetry is very bad, and the sonnets at the end of the book are almost as mediocre as the drawings that accompany them. as we read them we cannot but regret that, in this point at any rate, mr. bayliss has not imitated the wise example of his predecessor who, with all his faults, was never guilty of writing a line of poetry, and is, indeed, quite incapable of doing anything of the kind. as for the matter of mr. bayliss's discourses, his views on art must be admitted to be very commonplace and old-fashioned. what is the use of telling artists that they should try and paint nature as she really is? what nature really is, is a question for metaphysics not for art. art deals with appearances, and the eye of the man who looks at nature, the vision, in fact, of the artist, is far more important to us than what he looks at. there is more truth in corot's aphorism that a landscape is simply 'the mood of a man's mind' than there is in all mr. bayliss's laborious disquisitions on naturalism. again, why does mr. bayliss waste a whole chapter in pointing out real or supposed resemblances between a book of his published twelve years ago and an article by mr. palgrave which appeared recently in the nineteenth century? neither the book nor the article contains anything of real interest, and as for the hundred or more parallel passages which mr. wyke bayliss solemnly prints side by side, most of them are like parallel lines and never meet. the only original proposal that mr. bayliss has to offer us is that the house of commons should, every year, select some important event from national and contemporary history and hand it over to the artists who are to choose from among themselves a man to make a picture of it. in this way mr. bayliss believes that we could have the historic art, and suggests as examples of what he means a picture of florence nightingale in the hospital at scutari, a picture of the opening of the first london board- school, and a picture of the senate house at cambridge with the girl graduate receiving a degree 'that shall acknowledge her to be as wise as merlin himself and leave her still as beautiful as vivien.' this proposal is, of course, very well meant, but, to say nothing of the danger of leaving historic art at the mercy of a majority in the house of commons, who would naturally vote for its own view of things, mr. bayliss does not seem to realise that a great event is not necessarily a pictorial event. 'the decisive events of the world,' as has been well said, 'take place in the intellect,' and as for board-schools, academic ceremonies, hospital wards and the like, they may well be left to the artists of the illustrated papers, who do them admirably and quite as well as they need be done. indeed, the pictures of contemporary events, royal marriages, naval reviews and things of this kind that appear in the academy every year, are always extremely bad; while the very same subjects treated in black and white in the graphic or the london news are excellent. besides, if we want to understand the history of a nation through the medium of art, it is to the imaginative and ideal arts that we have to go and not to the arts that are definitely imitative. the visible aspect of life no longer contains for us the secret of life's spirit. probably it never did contain it. and, if mr. barker's waterloo banquet and mr. frith's marriage of the prince of wales are examples of healthy historic art, the less we have of such art the better. however, mr. bayliss is full of the most ardent faith and speaks quite gravely of genuine portraits of st. john, st. peter and st. paul dating from the first century, and of the establishment by the israelites of a school of art in the wilderness under the now little appreciated bezaleel. he is a pleasant, picturesque writer, but he should not speak about art. art is a sealed book to him. the enchanted island. by wyke bayliss, f.s.a., president of the royal society of british artists. (allen and co.) some literary notes--ii (woman's world, february .) 'the various collectors of irish folk-lore,' says mr. w. b. yeats in his charming little book fairy and folk tales of the irish peasantry, 'have, from our point of view, one great merit, and from the point of view of others, one great fault.' they have made their work literature rather than science, and told us of the irish peasantry rather than of the primitive religion of mankind, or whatever else the folk-lorists are on the gad after. to be considered scientists they should have tabulated all their tales in forms like grocers' bills--item the fairy king, item the queen. instead of this they have caught the very voice of the people, the very pulse of life, each giving what was most noticed in his day. croker and lover, full of the ideas of harum-scarum irish gentility, saw everything humorised. the impulse of the irish literature of their time came from a class that did not--mainly for political reasons--take the populace seriously, and imagined the country as a humorist's arcadia; its passion, its gloom, its tragedy, they knew nothing of. what they did was not wholly false; they merely magnified an irresponsible type, found oftenest among boatmen, carmen, and gentlemen's servants, into the type of a whole nation, and created the stage irishman. the writers of 'forty-eight, and the famine combined, burst their bubble. their work had the dash as well as the shallowness of an ascendant and idle class, and in croker is touched everywhere with beauty--a gentle arcadian beauty. carleton, a peasant born, has in many of his stories, . . . more especially in his ghost stories, a much more serious way with him, for all his humour. kennedy, an old bookseller in dublin, who seems to have had a something of genuine belief in the fairies, comes next in time. he has far less literary faculty, but is wonderfully accurate, giving often the very words the stories were told in. but the best book since croker is lady wilde's ancient legends. the humour has all given way to pathos and tenderness. we have here the innermost heart of the celt in the moments he has grown to love through years of persecution, when, cushioning himself about with dreams, and hearing fairy-songs in the twilight, he ponders on the soul and on the dead. here is the celt, only it is the celt dreaming. into a volume of very moderate dimensions, and of extremely moderate price, mr. yeats has collected together the most characteristic of our irish folklore stories, grouping them together according to subject. first come the trooping fairies. the peasants say that these are 'fallen angels who were not good enough to be saved, nor bad enough to be lost'; but the irish antiquarians see in them 'the gods of pagan ireland,' who, 'when no longer worshipped and fed with offerings, dwindled away in the popular imagination, and now are only a few spans high.' their chief occupations are feasting, fighting, making love, and playing the most beautiful music. 'they have only one industrious person amongst them, the lepra-caun--the shoemaker.' it is his duty to repair their shoes when they wear them out with dancing. mr. yeats tells us that 'near the village of ballisodare is a little woman who lived amongst them seven years. when she came home she had no toes--she had danced them off.' on may eve, every seventh year, they fight for the harvest, for the best ears of grain belong to them. an old man informed mr. yeats that he saw them fight once, and that they tore the thatch off a house. 'had any one else been near they would merely have seen a great wind whirling everything into the air as it passed.' when the wind drives the leaves and straws before it, 'that is the fairies, and the peasants take off their hats and say "god bless them."' when they are gay, they sing. many of the most beautiful tunes of ireland 'are only their music, caught up by eavesdroppers.' no prudent peasant would hum the pretty girl milking the cow near a fairy rath, 'for they are jealous, and do not like to hear their songs on clumsy mortal lips.' blake once saw a fairy's funeral. but this, as mr. yeats points out, must have been an english fairy, for the irish fairies never die; they are immortal. then come the solitary fairies, amongst whom we find the little lepracaun mentioned above. he has grown very rich, as he possesses all the treasure-crocks buried in war-time. in the early part of this century, according to croker, they used to show in tipperary a little shoe forgotten by the fairy shoemaker. then there are two rather disreputable little fairies--the cluricaun, who gets intoxicated in gentlemen's cellars, and the red man, who plays unkind practical jokes. 'the fear- gorta (man of hunger) is an emaciated phantom that goes through the land in famine time, begging an alms and bringing good luck to the giver.' the water-sheerie is 'own brother to the english jack-o'-lantern.' 'the leanhaun shee (fairy mistress) seeks the love of mortals. if they refuse, she must be their slave; if they consent, they are hers, and can only escape by finding another to take their place. the fairy lives on their life, and they waste away. death is no escape from her. she is the gaelic muse, for she gives inspiration to those she persecutes. the gaelic poets die young, for she is restless, and will not let them remain long on earth.' the pooka is essentially an animal spirit, and some have considered him the forefather of shakespeare's 'puck.' he lives on solitary mountains, and among old ruins 'grown monstrous with much solitude,' and 'is of the race of the nightmare.' 'he has many shapes--is now a horse, . . . now a goat, now an eagle. like all spirits, he is only half in the world of form.' the banshee does not care much for our democratic levelling tendencies; she loves only old families, and despises the parvenu or the nouveau riche. when more than one banshee is present, and they wail and sing in chorus, it is for the death of some holy or great one. an omen that sometimes accompanies the banshee is '. . . an immense black coach, mounted by a coffin, and drawn by headless horses driven by a dullahan.' a dullahan is the most terrible thing in the world. in two of the sentries stationed outside st. james's park saw one climbing the railings, and died of fright. mr. yeats suggests that they are possibly 'descended from that irish giant who swam across the channel with his head in his teeth.' then come the stories of ghosts, of saints and priests, and of giants. the ghosts live in a state intermediary between this world and the next. they are held there by some earthly longing or affection, or some duty unfulfilled, or anger against the living; they are those who are too good for hell, and too bad for heaven. sometimes they 'take the forms of insects, especially of butterflies.' the author of the parochial survey of ireland 'heard a woman say to a child who was chasing a butterfly, "how do you know it is not the soul of your grandfather?" on november eve they are abroad, and dance with the fairies.' as for the saints and priests, 'there are no martyrs in the stories.' that ancient chronicler giraldus cambrensis 'taunted the archbishop of cashel, because no one in ireland had received the crown of martyrdom. "our people may be barbarous," the prelate answered, "but they have never lifted their hands against god's saints; but now that a people have come amongst us who know how to make them (it was just after the english invasion), we shall have martyrs plentifully."' the giants were the old pagan heroes of ireland, who grew bigger and bigger, just as the gods grew smaller and smaller. the fact is they did not wait for offerings; they took them vi et armis. some of the prettiest stories are those that cluster round tir-na-n-og. this is the country of the young, 'for age and death have not found it; neither tears nor loud laughter have gone near it.' 'one man has gone there and returned. the bard, oisen, who wandered away on a white horse, moving on the surface of the foam with his fairy niamh lived there three hundred years, and then returned looking for his comrades. the moment his foot touched the earth his three hundred years fell on him, and he was bowed double, and his beard swept the ground. he described his sojourn in the land of youth to patrick before he died.' since then, according to mr. yeats, 'many have seen it in many places; some in the depths of lakes, and have heard rising therefrom a vague sound of bells; more have seen it far off on the horizon, as they peered out from the western cliffs. not three years ago a fisherman imagined that he saw it.' mr. yeats has certainly done his work very well. he has shown great critical capacity in his selection of the stories, and his little introductions are charmingly written. it is delightful to come across a collection of purely imaginative work, and mr. yeats has a very quick instinct in finding out the best and the most beautiful things in irish folklore. i am also glad to see that he has not confined himself entirely to prose, but has included allingham's lovely poem on the fairies: up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen, we daren't go a-hunting for fear of little men; wee folk, good folk, trooping all together; green jacket, red cap, and white owl's feather! down along the rocky shore some make their home, they live on crispy pancakes of yellow tide-foam; some in the reeds of the black mountain lake, with frogs for their watch-dogs all night awake. high on the hill-top the old king sits; he is now so old and gray he's nigh lost his wits. with a bridge of white mist columbkill he crosses, on his stately journeys from slieveleague to rosses; or going up with music, on cold starry nights, to sup with the queen of the gay northern lights. all lovers of fairy tales and folklore should get this little book. the horned women, the priest's soul, { } and teig o'kane, are really marvellous in their way; and, indeed, there is hardly a single story that is not worth reading and thinking over. the wittiest writer in france at present is a woman. that clever, that spirituelle grande dame, who has adopted the pseudonym of 'gyp,' has in her own country no rival. her wit, her delicate and delightful esprit, her fascinating modernity, and her light, happy touch, give her a unique position in that literary movement which has taken for its object the reproduction of contemporary life. such books as autour du mariage, autour du divorce, and le petit bob, are, in their way, little playful masterpieces, and the only work in england that we could compare with them is violet fane's edwin and angelina papers. to the same brilliant pen which gave us these wise and witty studies of modern life we owe now a more serious, more elaborate production. helen davenant is as earnestly wrought out as it is cleverly conceived. if it has a fault, it is that it is too full of matter. out of the same material a more economical writer would have made two novels and half a dozen psychological studies for publication in american magazines. thackeray once met bishop wilberforce at dinner at dean stanley's, and, after listening to the eloquent prelate's extraordinary flow and fund of stories, remarked to his neighbour, 'i could not afford to spend at that rate.' violet fane is certainly lavishly extravagant of incident, plot, and character. but we must not quarrel with richness of subject-matter at a time when tenuity of purpose and meagreness of motive seem to be becoming the dominant notes of contemporary fiction. the side-issues of the story are so complex that it is difficult, almost impossible, to describe the plot in any adequate manner. the interest centres round a young girl, helen davenant by name, who contracts a private and clandestine marriage with one of those mysterious and fascinating foreign noblemen who are becoming so invaluable to writers of fiction, either in narrative or dramatic form. shortly after the marriage her husband is arrested for a terrible murder committed some years before in russia, under the evil influence of occult magic and mesmerism. the crime was done in a hypnotic state, and, as described by violet fane, seems much more probable than the actual hypnotic experiments recorded in scientific publications. this is the supreme advantage that fiction possesses over fact. it can make things artistically probable; can call for imaginative and realistic credence; can, by force of mere style, compel us to believe. the ordinary novelists, by keeping close to the ordinary incidents of commonplace life, seem to me to abdicate half their power. romance, at any rate, welcomes what is wonderful; the temper of wonder is part of her own secret; she loves what is strange and curious. but besides the marvels of occultism and hypnotism, there are many other things in helen davenant that are worthy of study. violet fane writes an admirable style. the opening chapter of the book, with its terrible poignant tragedy, is most powerfully written, and i cannot help wondering that the clever authoress cared to abandon, even for a moment, the superb psychological opportunity that this chapter affords. the touches of nature, the vivid sketches of high life, the subtle renderings of the phases and fancies of society, are also admirably done. helen davenant is certainly clever, and shows that violet fane can write prose that is as good as her verse, and can look at life not merely from the point of view of the poet, but also from the standpoint of the philosopher, the keen observer, the fine social critic. to be a fine social critic is no small thing, and to be able to incorporate in a work of fiction the results of such careful observation is to achieve what is out of the reach of many. the difficulty under which the novelists of our day labour seems to me to be this: if they do not go into society, their books are unreadable; and if they do go into society, they have no time left for writing. however, violet fane has solved the problem. the chronicles which i am about to present to the reader are not the result of any conscious effort of the imagination. they are, as the title-page indicates, records of dreams occurring at intervals during the last ten years, and transcribed, pretty nearly in the order of their occurrence, from my diary. written down as soon as possible after awaking from the slumber during which they presented themselves, these narratives, necessarily unstudied in style, and wanting in elegance of diction, have at least the merit of fresh and vivid colour; for they were committed to paper at a moment when the effect and impress of each successive vision were strong and forceful on the mind. . . . the most remarkable features of the experiences i am about to record are the methodical consecutiveness of their sequences, and the intelligent purpose disclosed alike in the events witnessed and in the words heard or read. . . . i know of no parallel to this phenomenon, unless in the pages of bulwer lytton's romance entitled the pilgrims of the rhine, in which is related the story of a german student endowed with so marvellous a faculty of dreaming, that for him the normal conditions of sleeping and waking became reversed; his true life was that which he lived in his slumbers, and his hours of wakefulness appeared to him as so many uneventful and inactive intervals of arrest, occurring in an existence of intense and vivid interest which was wholly passed in the hypnotic state. . . . during the whole period covered by these dreams i have been busily and almost continuously engrossed with scientific and literary pursuits, demanding accurate judgment and complete self-possession and rectitude of mind. at the time when many of the most vivid and remarkable visions occurred i was following my course as a student at the paris faculty of medicine, preparing for examinations, daily visiting hospital wards as dresser, and attending lectures. later, when i had taken my degree, i was engaged in the duties of my profession and in writing for the press on scientific subjects. neither had i ever taken opium, haschish, or other dream-producing agent. a cup of tea or coffee represents the extent of my indulgences in this direction. i mention these details in order to guard against inferences which might otherwise be drawn as to the genesis of my faculty. it may, perhaps, be worthy of notice that by far the larger number of the dreams set down in this volume occurred towards dawn; sometimes even, after sunrise, during a 'second sleep.' a condition of fasting, united possibly with some subtle magnetic or other atmospheric state, seems, therefore, to be that most open to impressions of the kind. this is the account given by the late dr. anna kingsford of the genesis of her remarkable volume, dreams and dream-stories; and certainly some of the stories, especially those entitled steepside, beyond the sunset, and the village of seers, are well worth reading, though not intrinsically finer, either in motive or idea, than the general run of magazine stories. no one who had the privilege of knowing mrs. kingsford, who was one of the brilliant women of our day, can doubt for a single moment that these tales came to her in the way she describes; but to me the result is just a little disappointing. perhaps, however, i expect too much. there is no reason whatsoever why the imagination should be finer in hours of dreaming than in its hours of waking. mrs. kingsford quotes a letter written by jamblichus to agathocles, in which he says: 'the soul has a twofold life, a lower and a higher. in sleep the soul is liberated from the constraint of the body, and enters, as an emancipated being, on its divine life of intelligence. the nobler part of the mind is thus united by abstraction to higher natures, and becomes a participant in the wisdom and foreknowledge of the gods. . . . the night-time of the body is the day-time of the soul.' but the great masterpieces of literature and the great secrets of wisdom have not been communicated in this way; and even in coleridge's case, though kubla khan is wonderful, it is not more wonderful, while it is certainly less complete, than the ancient mariner. as for the dreams themselves, which occupy the first portion of the book, their value, of course, depends chiefly on the value of the truths or predictions which they are supposed to impart. i must confess that most modern mysticism seems to me to be simply a method of imparting useless knowledge in a form that no one can understand. allegory, parable, and vision have their high artistic uses, but their philosophical and scientific uses are very small. however, here is one of mrs. kingsford's dreams. it has a pleasant quaintness about it: the wonderful spectacles i was walking alone on the sea-shore. the day was singularly clear and sunny. inland lay the most beautiful landscape ever seen; and far off were ranges of tall hills, the highest peaks of which were white with glittering snows. along the sands by the sea came towards me a man accoutred as a postman. he gave me a letter. it was from you. it ran thus: 'i have got hold of the earliest and most precious book extant. it was written before the world began. the text is easy enough to read; but the notes, which are very copious and numerous, are in such minute and obscure characters that i cannot make them out. i want you to get for me the spectacles which swedenborg used to wear; not the smaller pair--those he gave to hans christian andersen--but the large pair, and these seem to have got mislaid. i think they are spinoza's make. you know, he was an optical-glass maker by profession, and the best we ever had. see if you can get them for me.' when i looked up after reading this letter i saw the postman hastening away across the sands, and i cried out to him, 'stop! how am i to send the answer? will you not wait for it?' he looked round, stopped, and came back to me. 'i have the answer here,' he said, tapping his letter-bag, 'and i shall deliver it immediately.' 'how can you have the answer before i have written it?' i asked. 'you are making a mistake.' 'no,' he said. 'in the city from which i come the replies are all written at the office, and sent out with the letters themselves. your reply is in my bag.' 'let me see it,' i said. he took another letter from his wallet, and gave it to me. i opened it, and read, in my own handwriting, this answer, addressed to you: 'the spectacles you want can be bought in london; but you will not be able to use them at once, for they have not been worn for many years, and they sadly want cleaning. this you will not be able to do yourself in london, because it is too dark there to see well, and because your fingers are not small enough to clean them properly. bring them here to me, and i will do it for you.' i gave this letter back to the postman. he smiled and nodded at me; and then i perceived, to my astonishment, that he wore a camel's-hair tunic round his waist. i had been on the point of addressing him--i know not why--as hermes. but i now saw that he must be john the baptist; and in my fright at having spoken to so great a saint i awoke. mr. maitland, who edits the present volume, and who was joint-author with mrs. kingsford of that curious book the perfect way, states in a footnote that in the present instance the dreamer knew nothing of spinoza at the time, and was quite unaware that he was an optician; and the interpretation of the dream, as given by him, is that the spectacles in question were intended to represent mrs. kingsford's remarkable faculty of intuitional and interpretative perception. for a spiritual message fraught with such meaning, the mere form of this dream seems to me somewhat ignoble, and i cannot say that i like the blending of the postman with st. john the baptist. however, from a psychological point of view, these dreams are interesting, and mrs. kingsford's book is undoubtedly a valuable addition to the literature of the mysticism of the nineteenth century. * * * * * the romance of a shop, by miss amy levy, is a more mundane book, and deals with the adventures of some young ladies who open a photographic studio in baker street to the horror of some of their fashionable relatives. it is so brightly and pleasantly written that the sudden introduction of a tragedy into it seems violent and unnecessary. it lacks the true tragic temper, and without this temper in literature all misfortunes and miseries seem somewhat mean and ordinary. with this exception the book is admirably done, and the style is clever and full of quick observation. observation is perhaps the most valuable faculty for a writer of fiction. when novelists reflect and moralise, they are, as a rule, dull. but to observe life with keen vision and quick intellect, to catch its many modes of expression, to seize upon the subtlety, or satire, or dramatic quality of its situations, and to render life for us with some spirit of distinction and fine selection--this, i fancy, should be the aim of the modern realistic novelist. it would be, perhaps, too much to say that miss levy has distinction; this is the rarest quality in modern literature, though not a few of its masters are modern; but she has many other qualities which are admirable. * * * * * faithful and unfaithful is a powerful but not very pleasing novel. however, the object of most modern fiction is not to give pleasure to the artistic instinct, but rather to portray life vividly for us, to draw attention to social anomalies, and social forms of injustice. many of our novelists are really pamphleteers, reformers masquerading as story- tellers, earnest sociologists seeking to mend as well as to mirror life. the heroine, or rather martyr, of miss margaret lee's story is a very noble and graciously puritanic american girl, who is married at the age of eighteen to a man whom she insists on regarding as a hero. her husband cannot live in the high rarefied atmosphere of idealism with which she surrounds him; her firm and fearless faith in him becomes a factor in his degradation. 'you are too good for me,' he says to her in a finely conceived scene at the end of the book; 'we have not an idea, an inclination, or a passion in common. i'm sick and tired of seeming to live up to a standard that is entirely beyond my reach and my desire. we make each other miserable! i can't pull you down, and for ten years you have been exhausting yourself in vain efforts to raise me to your level. the thing must end!' he asks her to divorce him, but she refuses. he then abandons her, and availing himself of those curious facilities for breaking the marriage-tie that prevail in the united states, succeeds in divorcing her without her consent, and without her knowledge. the book is certainly characteristic of an age so practical and so literary as ours, an age in which all social reforms have been preceded and have been largely influenced by fiction. faithful and unfaithful seems to point to some coming change in the marriage-laws of america. ( ) fairy and folk tales of the irish peasantry. edited and selected by w. b. yeats. (walter scott.) ( ) helen davenant. by violet fane. (chapman and hall.) ( ) dreams and dream-stories. by dr. anna kingsford. (redway.) ( ) the romance of a shop. by amy levy. (fisher unwin.) ( ) faithful and unfaithful. by margaret lee. (macmillan and co.) one of the bibles of the world (pall mall gazette, february , .) the kalevala is one of those poems that mr. william morris once described as 'the bibles of the world.' it takes its place as a national epic beside the homeric poems, the niebelunge, the shahnameth and the mahabharata, and the admirable translation just published by mr. john martin crawford is sure to be welcomed by all scholars and lovers of primitive poetry. in his very interesting preface mr. crawford claims for the finns that they began earlier than any other european nation to collect and preserve their ancient folklore. in the seventeenth century we meet men of literary tastes like palmskold who tried to collect and interpret the various national songs of the fen-dwellers of the north. but the kalevala proper was collected by two great finnish scholars of our own century, zacharias topelius and elias lonnrot. both were practising physicians, and in this capacity came into frequent contact with the people of finland. topelius, who collected eighty epical fragments of the kalevala, spent the last eleven years of his life in bed, afflicted with a fatal disease. this misfortune, however, did not damp his enthusiasm. mr. crawford tells us that he used to invite the wandering finnish merchants to his bedside and induce them to sing their heroic poems which he copied down as soon as they were uttered, and that whenever he heard of a renowned finnish minstrel he did all in his power to bring the song-man to his house in order that he might gather new fragments of the national epic. lonnrot travelled over the whole country, on horseback, in reindeer sledges and in canoes, collecting the old poems and songs from the hunters, the fishermen and the shepherds. the people gave him every assistance, and he had the good fortune to come across an old peasant, one of the oldest of the runolainen in the russian province of wuokinlem, who was by far the most renowned song-man of the country, and from him he got many of the most splendid runes of the poem. and certainly the kalevala, as it stands, is one of the world's great poems. it is perhaps hardly accurate to describe it as an epic. it lacks the central unity of a true epic in our sense of the word. it has many heroes beside wainomoinen and is, properly speaking, a collection of folk-songs and ballads. of its antiquity there is no doubt. it is thoroughly pagan from beginning to end, and even the legend of the virgin mariatta to whom the sun tells where 'her golden babe lies hidden'-- yonder is thy golden infant, there thy holy babe lies sleeping hidden to his belt in water, hidden in the reeds and rushes-- is, according to all scholars, essentially pre-christian in origin. the gods are chiefly gods of air and water and forest. the highest is the sky-god ukks who is 'the father of the breezes,' 'the shepherd of the lamb-clouds'; the lightning is his sword, the rainbow is his bow; his skirt sparkles with fire, his stockings are blue and his shoes crimson- coloured. the daughters of the sun and moon sit on the scarlet rims of the clouds and weave the rays of light into a gleaming web. untar presides over fogs and mists, and passes them through a silver sieve before sending them to the earth. ahto, the wave-god, lives with 'his cold and cruel-hearted spouse,' wellamo, at the bottom of the sea in the chasm of the salmon-rocks, and possesses the priceless treasure of the sampo, the talisman of success. when the branches of the primitive oak- trees shut out the light of the sun from the northland, pikku-mies (the pygmy) emerged from the sea in a suit of copper, with a copper hatchet in his belt, and having grown to a giant's stature felled the huge oak with the third stroke of his axe. wirokannas is 'the green-robed priest of the forest,' and tapio, who has a coat of tree-moss and a high-crowned hat of fir-leaves, is 'the gracious god of the woodlands.' otso, the bear, is the 'honey-paw of the mountains,' the 'fur-robed forest friend.' in everything, visible and invisible, there is god, a divine presence. there are three worlds, and they are all peopled with divinities. as regards the poem itself, it is written in trochaic eight-syllabled lines with alliteration and the part-line echo, the metre which longfellow adopted for hiawatha. one of its distinguishing characteristics is its wonderful passion for nature and for the beauty of natural objects. lemenkainen says to tapio: sable-bearded god of forests, in thy hat and coat of ermine, robe thy trees in finest fibres, deck thy groves in richest fabrics, give the fir-trees shining silver, deck with gold the slender balsams, give the spruces copper-belting, and the pine-trees silver girdles, give the birches golden flowers, deck their stems with silver fretwork, this their garb in former ages when the days and nights were brighter, when the fir-trees shone like sunlight, and the birches like the moonbeams; honey breathe throughout the forest, settled in the glens and highlands, spices in the meadow-borders, oil outpouring from the lowlands. all handicrafts and art-work are, as in homer, elaborately described: then the smiter ilmarinen the eternal artist-forgeman, in the furnace forged an eagle from the fire of ancient wisdom, for this giant bird of magic forged he talons out of iron, and his beak of steel and copper; seats himself upon the eagle, on his back between the wing-bones thus addresses he his creature, gives the bird of fire this order. mighty eagle, bird of beauty, fly thou whither i direct thee, to tuoni's coal-black river, to the blue-depths of the death-stream, seize the mighty fish of mana, catch for me this water-monster. and wainamoinen's boat-building is one of the great incidents of the poem: wainamoinen old and skilful, the eternal wonder-worker, builds his vessel with enchantment, builds his boat by art and magic, from the timber of the oak-tree, forms its posts and planks and flooring. sings a song and joins the framework; sings a second, sets the siding; sings a third time, sets the rowlocks; fashions oars, and ribs, and rudder, joins the sides and ribs together. . . . . . now he decks his magic vessel, paints the boat in blue and scarlet, trims in gold the ship's forecastle, decks the prow in molten silver; sings his magic ship down gliding, on the cylinders of fir-tree; now erects the masts of pine-wood, on each mast the sails of linen, sails of blue, and white, and scarlet, woven into finest fabric. all the characteristics of a splendid antique civilisation are mirrored in this marvellous poem, and mr. crawford's admirable translation should make the wonderful heroes of suomi song as familiar if not as dear to our people as the heroes of the great ionian epic. the kalevala, the epic poem of finland. translated into english by john martin crawford. (g. p. putnam's sons.) poetical socialists (pall mall gazette, february , .) mr. stopford brooke said some time ago that socialism and the socialistic spirit would give our poets nobler and loftier themes for song, would widen their sympathies and enlarge the horizon of their vision and would touch, with the fire and fervour of a new faith, lips that had else been silent, hearts that but for this fresh gospel had been cold. what art gains from contemporary events is always a fascinating problem and a problem that is not easy to solve. it is, however, certain that socialism starts well equipped. she has her poets and her painters, her art lecturers and her cunning designers, her powerful orators and her clever writers. if she fails it will not be for lack of expression. if she succeeds her triumph will not be a triumph of mere brute force. the first thing that strikes one, as one looks over the list of contributors to mr. edward carpenter's chants of labour, is the curious variety of their several occupations, the wide differences of social position that exist between them, and the strange medley of men whom a common passion has for the moment united. the editor is a 'science lecturer'; he is followed by a draper and a porter; then we have two late eton masters and then two bootmakers; and these are, in their turn, succeeded by an ex- lord mayor of dublin, a bookbinder, a photographer, a steel-worker and an authoress. on one page we have a journalist, a draughtsman and a music- teacher: and on another a civil servant, a machine fitter, a medical student, a cabinet-maker and a minister of the church of scotland. certainly, it is no ordinary movement that can bind together in close brotherhood men of such dissimilar pursuits, and when we mention that mr. william morris is one of the singers, and that mr. walter crane has designed the cover and frontispiece of the book, we cannot but feel that, as we pointed out before, socialism starts well equipped. as for the songs themselves, some of them, to quote from the editor's preface, are 'purely revolutionary, others are christian in tone; there are some that might be called merely material in their tendency, while many are of a highly ideal and visionary character.' this is, on the whole, very promising. it shows that socialism is not going to allow herself to be trammelled by any hard and fast creed or to be stereotyped into an iron formula. she welcomes many and multiform natures. she rejects none and has room for all. she has the attraction of a wonderful personality and touches the heart of one and the brain of another, and draws this man by his hatred of injustice, and his neighbour by his faith in the future, and a third, it may be, by his love of art or by his wild worship of a lost and buried past. and all of this is well. for, to make men socialists is nothing, but to make socialism human is a great thing. they are not of any very high literary value, these poems that have been so dexterously set to music. they are meant to be sung, not to be read. they are rough, direct and vigorous, and the tunes are stirring and familiar. indeed, almost any mob could warble them with ease. the transpositions that have been made are rather amusing. 'twas in trafalgar square is set to the tune of 'twas in trafalgar's bay; up, ye people! a very revolutionary song by mr. john gregory, boot-maker, with a refrain of up, ye people! or down into your graves! cowards ever will be slaves! is to be sung to the tune of rule, britannia! the old melody of the vicar of bray is to accompany the new ballade of law and order--which, however, is not a ballade at all--and to the air of here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen the democracy of the future is to thunder forth one of mr. t. d. sullivan's most powerful and pathetic lyrics. it is clear that the socialists intend to carry on the musical education of the people simultaneously with their education in political science and, here as elsewhere, they seem to be entirely free from any narrow bias or formal prejudice. mendelssohn is followed by moody and sankey; the wacht am rhein stands side by side with the marseillaise; lillibulero, a chorus from norma, john brown and an air from beethoven's ninth symphony are all equally delightful to them. they sing the national anthem in shelley's version and chant william morris's voice of toil to the flowing numbers of ye banks and braes of bonny doon. victor hugo talks somewhere of the terrible cry of 'le tigre populaire,' but it is evident from mr. carpenter's book that should the revolution ever break out in england we shall have no inarticulate roar but, rather, pleasant glees and graceful part-songs. the change is certainly for the better. nero fiddled while rome was burning--at least, inaccurate historians say he did; but it is for the building up of an eternal city that the socialists of our day are making music, and they have complete confidence in the art instincts of the people. they say that the people are brutal-- that their instincts of beauty are dead-- were it so, shame on those who condemn them to the desperate struggle for bread. but they lie in their throats when they say it, for the people are tender at heart, and a wellspring of beauty lies hidden beneath their life's fever and smart, is a stanza from one of the poems in this volume, and the feeling expressed in these words is paramount everywhere. the reformation gained much from the use of popular hymn-tunes, and the socialists seem determined to gain by similar means a similar hold upon the people. however, they must not be too sanguine about the result. the walls of thebes rose up to the sound of music, and thebes was a very dull city indeed. chants of labour: a song-book of the people. with music. edited by edward carpenter. with designs by walter crane. (swan sonnenschein and co.) mr. brander matthews' essays (pall mall gazette, february , .) 'if you to have your book criticized favorably, give yourself a good notice in the preface!' is the golden rule laid down for the guidance of authors by mr. brander matthews in an amusing essay on the art of preface- writing and, true to his own theory, he announces his volume as 'the most interesting, the most entertaining, and the most instructive book of the decade.' entertaining it certainly is in parts. the essay on poker, for instance, is very brightly and pleasantly written. mr. proctor objected to poker on the somewhat trivial ground that it was a form of lying, and on the more serious ground that it afforded special opportunities for cheating; and, indeed, he regarded the mere existence of the game outside gambling dens as 'one of the most portentous phenomena of american civilisation.' mr. brander matthews points out, in answer to these grave charges, that bluffing is merely a suppressio veri and that it requires a great deal of physical courage on the part of the player. as for the cheating, he claims that poker affords no more opportunities for the exercise of this art than either whist or ecarte, though he admits that the proper attitude towards an opponent whose good luck is unduly persistent is that of the german-american who, finding four aces in his hand, was naturally about to bet heavily, when a sudden thought struck him and he inquired, 'who dole dem carts?' 'jakey einstein' was the answer. 'jakey einstein?' he repeated, laying down his hand; 'den i pass out.' the history of the game will be found very interesting by all card-lovers. like most of the distinctly national products of america, it seems to have been imported from abroad and can be traced back to an italian game in the fifteenth century. euchre was probably acclimatised on the mississippi by the canadian voyageurs, being a form of the french game of triomphe. it was a kentucky citizen who, desiring to give his sons a few words of solemn advice for their future guidance in life, had them summoned to his deathbed and said to them, 'boys, when you go down the river to orleens jest you beware of a game called yucker where the jack takes the ace;--it's unchristian!'--after which warning he lay back and died in peace. and 'it was euchre which the two gentlemen were playing in a boat on the missouri river when a bystander, shocked by the frequency with which one of the players turned up the jack, took the liberty of warning the other player that the winner was dealing from the bottom, to which the loser, secure in his power of self-protection, answered gruffly, "well, suppose he is--it's his deal, isn't it?"' the chapter on the antiquity of jests, with its suggestion of an international exhibition of jokes, is capital. such an exhibition, mr. matthews remarks, would at least dispel any lingering belief in the old saying that there are only thirty-eight good stories in existence and that thirty-seven of these cannot be told before ladies; and the retrospective section would certainly be the constant resort of any true folklorist. for most of the good stories of our time are really folklore, myth survivals, echoes of the past. the two well-known american proverbs, 'we have had a hell of a time' and 'let the other man walk' are both traced back by mr. matthews: the first to walpole's letters, and the other to a story poggio tells of an inhabitant of perugia who walked in melancholy because he could not pay his debts. 'vah, stulte,' was the advice given to him, 'leave anxiety to your creditors!' and even mr. william m. evart's brilliant repartee when he was told that washington once threw a dollar across the natural bridge in virginia, 'in those days a dollar went so much farther than it does now!' seems to be the direct descendant of a witty remark of foote's, though we must say that in this case we prefer the child to the father. the essay on the french spoken by those who do not speak french is also cleverly written and, indeed, on every subject, except literature, mr. matthews is well worth reading. on literature and literary subjects he is certainly 'sadly to seek.' the essay on the ethics of plagiarism, with its laborious attempt to rehabilitate mr. rider haggard and its foolish remarks on poe's admirable paper mr. longfellow and other plagiarists, is extremely dull and commonplace and, in the elaborate comparison that he draws between mr. frederick locker and mr. austin dobson, the author of pen and ink shows that he is quite devoid of any real critical faculty or of any fine sense of the difference between ordinary society verse and the exquisite work of a very perfect artist in poetry. we have no objection to mr. matthews likening mr. locker to mr. du maurier, and mr. dobson to randolph caldecott and mr. edwin abbey. comparisons of this kind, though extremely silly, do not do much harm. in fact, they mean nothing and are probably not intended to mean anything. upon the other hand, we really must protest against mr. matthews' efforts to confuse the poetry of piccadilly with the poetry of parnassus. to tell us, for instance, that mr. austin dobson's verse 'has not the condensed clearness nor the incisive vigor of mr. locker's' is really too bad even for transatlantic criticism. nobody who lays claim to the slightest knowledge of literature and the forms of literature should ever bring the two names into conjunction. mr. locker has written some pleasant vers de societe, some tuneful trifles in rhyme admirably suited for ladies' albums and for magazines. but to mention herrick and suckling and mr. austin dobson in connection with him is absurd. he is not a poet. mr. dobson, upon the other hand, has produced work that is absolutely classical in its exquisite beauty of form. nothing more artistically perfect in its way than the lines to a greek girl has been written in our time. this little poem will be remembered in literature as long as thyrsis is remembered, and thyrsis will never be forgotten. both have that note of distinction that is so rare in these days of violence, exaggeration and rhetoric. of course, to suggest, as mr. matthews does, that mr. dobson's poems belong to 'the literature of power' is ridiculous. power is not their aim, nor is it their effect. they have other qualities, and in their own delicately limited sphere they have no contemporary rivals; they have none even second to them. however, mr. matthews is quite undaunted and tries to drag poor mr. locker out of piccadilly, where he was really quite in his element, and to set him on parnassus where he has no right to be and where he would not claim to be. he praises his work with the recklessness of an eloquent auctioneer. these very commonplace and slightly vulgar lines on a human skull: it may have held (to shoot some random shots) thy brains, eliza fry! or baron byron's; the wits of nelly gwynne or doctor watts-- two quoted bards. two philanthropic sirens. but this, i trust, is clearly understood, if man or woman, if adored or hated-- whoever own'd this skull was not so good nor quite so bad as many may have stated; are considered by him to be 'sportive and brightsome' and full of 'playful humor,' and 'two things especially are to be noted in them--individuality and directness of expression.' individuality and directness of expression! we wonder what mr. matthews thinks these words mean. unfortunate mr. locker with his uncouth american admirer! how he must blush to read these heavy panegyrics! indeed, mr. matthews himself has at least one fit of remorse for his attempt to class mr. locker's work with the work of mr. austin dobson, but like most fits of remorse it leads to nothing. on the very next page we have the complaint that mr. dobson's verse has not 'the condensed clearness' and the 'incisive vigor' of mr. locker's. mr. matthews should confine himself to his clever journalistic articles on euchre, poker, bad french and old jokes. on these subjects he can, to use an expression of his own, 'write funny.' he 'writes funny,' too, upon literature, but the fun is not quite so amusing. pen and ink: papers on subjects of more or less importance. by brander matthews. (longmans, green and co.) some literary notes--iii (woman's world, march .) miss nesbit has already made herself a name as a writer of graceful and charming verse, and though her last volume, leaves of life, does not show any distinct advance on her former work, it still fully maintains the high standard already achieved, and justifies the reputation of the author. there are some wonderfully pretty poems in it, poems full of quick touches of fancy, and of pleasant ripples of rhyme; and here and there a poignant note of passion flashes across the song, as a scarlet thread flashes through the shuttlerace of a loom, giving a new value to the delicate tints, and bringing the scheme of colour to a higher and more perfect key. in miss nesbit's earlier volume, the lays and legends, as it was called, there was an attempt to give poetic form to humanitarian dreams and socialistic aspirations; but the poems that dealt with these subjects were, on the whole, the least successful of the collection; and with the quick, critical instinct of an artist, miss nesbit seems to have recognised this. in the present volume, at any rate, such poems are rare, and these few felicitous verses give us the poet's defence: a singer sings of rights and wrongs, of world's ideals vast and bright, and feels the impotence of songs to scourge the wrong or help the right; and only writhes to feel how vain are songs as weapons for his fight; and so he turns to love again, and sings of love for heart's delight. for heart's delight the singers bind the wreath of roses round the head, and will not loose it lest they find time victor, and the roses dead. 'man can but sing of what he knows-- i saw the roses fresh and red!' and so they sing the deathless rose, with withered roses garlanded. and some within their bosom hide their rose of love still fresh and fair, and walk in silence, satisfied to keep its folded fragrance rare. and some--who bear a flag unfurled-- wreathe with their rose the flag they bear, and sing their banner for the world, and for their heart the roses there. yet thus much choice in singing is; we sing the good, the true, the just, passionate duty turned to bliss, and honour growing out of trust. freedom we sing, and would not lose her lightest footprint in life's dust. we sing of her because we choose, we sing of love because we must. certainly miss nesbit is at her best when she sings of love and nature. here she is close to her subject, and her temperament gives colour and form to the various dramatic moods that are either suggested by nature herself or brought to nature for interpretation. this, for instance, is very sweet and graceful: when all the skies with snow were grey, and all the earth with snow was white, i wandered down a still wood way, and there i met my heart's delight slow moving through the silent wood, the spirit of its solitude: the brown birds and the lichened tree seemed less a part of it than she. where pheasants' feet and rabbits' feet had marked the snow with traces small, i saw the footprints of my sweet-- the sweetest woodland thing of all. with christmas roses in her hand, one heart-beat's space i saw her stand; and then i let her pass, and stood lone in an empty world of wood. and though by that same path i've passed down that same woodland every day, that meeting was the first and last, and she is hopelessly away. i wonder was she really there-- her hands, and eyes, and lips, and hair? or was it but my dreaming sent her image down the way i went? empty the woods are where we met-- they will be empty in the spring; the cowslip and the violet will die without her gathering. but dare i dream one radiant day red rose-wreathed she will pass this way across the glad and honoured grass; and then--i will not let her pass. and this dedication, with its tender silver-grey notes of colour, is charming: in any meadow where your feet may tread, in any garland that your love may wear, may be the flower whose hidden fragrance shed wakes some old hope or numbs some old despair, and makes life's grief not quite so hard to bear, and makes life's joy more poignant and more dear because of some delight dead many a year. or in some cottage garden there may be the flower whose scent is memory for you; the sturdy southern-wood, the frail sweet-pea, bring back the swallow's cheep, the pigeon's coo, and youth, and hope, and all the dreams they knew, the evening star, the hedges grey with mist, the silent porch where love's first kiss was kissed. so in my garden may you chance to find or royal rose or quiet meadow flower, whose scent may be with some dear dream entwined, and give you back the ghost of some sweet hour, as lilies fragrant from an august shower, or airs of june that over bean-fields blow, bring back the sweetness of my long ago. all through the volume we find the same dexterous refining of old themes, which is indeed the best thing that our lesser singers can give us, and a thing always delightful. there is no garden so well tilled but it can bear another blossom, and though the subject-matter of miss nesbit's book is as the subject-matter of almost all books of poetry, she can certainly lend a new grace and a subtle sweetness to almost everything on which she writes. the wanderings of oisin and other poems is from the clever pen of mr. w. b. yeats, whose charming anthology of irish fairy-tales i had occasion to notice in a recent number of the woman's world. { } it is, i believe, the first volume of poems that mr. yeats has published, and it is certainly full of promise. it must be admitted that many of the poems are too fragmentary, too incomplete. they read like stray scenes out of unfinished plays, like things only half remembered, or, at best, but dimly seen. but the architectonic power of construction, the power to build up and make perfect a harmonious whole, is nearly always the latest, as it certainly is the highest, development of the artistic temperament. it is somewhat unfair to expect it in early work. one quality mr. yeats has in a marked degree, a quality that is not common in the work of our minor poets, and is therefore all the more welcome to us--i mean the romantic temper. he is essentially celtic, and his verse, at its best, is celtic also. strongly influenced by keats, he seems to study how to 'load every rift with ore,' yet is more fascinated by the beauty of words than by the beauty of metrical music. the spirit that dominates the whole book is perhaps more valuable than any individual poem or particular passage, but this from the wanderings of oisin is worth quoting. it describes the ride to the island of forgetfulness: and the ears of the horse went sinking away in the hollow light, for, as drift from a sailor slow drowning the gleams of the world and the sun, ceased on our hands and faces, on hazel and oak leaf, the light, and the stars were blotted above us, and the whole of the world was one; till the horse gave a whinny; for cumbrous with stems of the hazel and oak, of hollies, and hazels, and oak-trees, a valley was sloping away from his hoofs in the heavy grasses, with monstrous slumbering folk, their mighty and naked and gleaming bodies heaped loose where they lay. more comely than man may make them, inlaid with silver and gold, were arrow and shield and war-axe, arrow and spear and blade, and dew-blanched horns, in whose hollows a child of three years old could sleep on a couch of rushes, round and about them laid. and this, which deals with the old legend of the city lying under the waters of a lake, is strange and interesting: the maker of the stars and worlds sat underneath the market cross, and the old men were walking, walking, and little boys played pitch-and-toss. 'the props,' said he, 'of stars and worlds are prayers of patient men and good.' the boys, the women, and old men, listening, upon their shadows stood. a grey professor passing cried, 'how few the mind's intemperance rule! what shallow thoughts about deep things! the world grows old and plays the fool.' the mayor came, leaning his left ear-- there were some talking of the poor-- and to himself cried, 'communist!' and hurried to the guardhouse door. the bishop came with open book, whispering along the sunny path; there was some talking of man's god, his god of stupor and of wrath. the bishop murmured, 'atheist! how sinfully the wicked scoff!' and sent the old men on their way, and drove the boys and women off. the place was empty now of people; a cock came by upon his toes; an old horse looked across the fence, and rubbed along the rail his nose. the maker of the stars and worlds to his own house did him betake, and on that city dropped a tear, and now that city is a lake. mr. yeats has a great deal of invention, and some of the poems in his book, such as mosada, jealousy, and the island of statues, are very finely conceived. it is impossible to doubt, after reading his present volume, that he will some day give us work of high import. up to this he has been merely trying the strings of his instrument, running over the keys. * * * * * lady munster's dorinda is an exceedingly clever novel. the heroine is a sort of well-born becky sharp, only much more beautiful than becky, or at least than thackeray's portraits of her, which, however, have always seemed to me rather ill-natured. i feel sure that mrs. rawdon crawley was extremely pretty, and i have never understood how it was that thackeray could caricature with his pencil so fascinating a creation of his pen. in the first chapter of lady munster's novel we find dorinda at a fashionable school, and the sketches of the three old ladies who preside over the select seminary are very amusing. dorinda is not very popular, and grave suspicions rest upon her of having stolen a cheque. this is a startling debut for a heroine, and i was a little afraid at first that dorinda, after undergoing endless humiliations, would be proved innocent in the last chapter. it was quite a relief to find that dorinda was guilty. in fact, dorinda is a kleptomaniac; that is to say, she is a member of the upper classes who spends her time in collecting works of art that do not belong to her. this, however, is only one of her accomplishments, and it does not occupy any important place in the story till the last volume is reached. here we find dorinda married to a styrian prince, and living in the luxury for which she had always longed. unfortunately, while staying in the house of a friend she is detected stealing some rare enamels. her punishment, as described by lady munster, is extremely severe; and when she finally commits suicide, maddened by the imprisonment to which her husband had subjected her, it is difficult not to feel a good deal of pity for her. lady munster writes a very clever, bright style, and has a wonderful faculty of drawing in a few sentences the most lifelike portraits of social types and social exceptions. sir jasper broke and his sister, the duke and duchess of cheviotdale, lord and lady glenalmond, and lord baltimore, are all admirably drawn. the 'novel of high life,' as it used to be called, has of late years fallen into disrepute. instead of duchesses in mayfair, we have philanthropic young ladies in whitechapel; and the fashionable and brilliant young dandies, in whom disraeli and bulwer lytton took such delight, have been entirely wiped out as heroes of fiction by hardworking curates in the east end. the aim of most of our modern novelists seems to be, not to write good novels, but to write novels that will do good; and i am afraid that they are under the impression that fashionable life is not an edifying subject. they wish to reform the morals, rather than to portray the manners of their age. they have made the novel the mode of propaganda. it is possible, however, that dorinda points to some coming change, and certainly it would be a pity if the muse of fiction confined her attention entirely to the east end. * * * * * the four remarkable women whom mrs. walford has chosen as the subjects of her four biographies from 'blackwood' are jane taylor, elizabeth fry, hannah more, and mary somerville. perhaps it is too much to say that jane taylor is remarkable. in her day she was said to have been 'known to four continents,' and sir walter scott described her as 'among the first women of her time'; but no one now cares to read essays in rhyme, or display, though the latter is really a very clever novel and full of capital things. elizabeth fry is, of course, one of the great personalities of this century, at any rate in the particular sphere to which she devoted herself, and ranks with the many uncanonised saints whom the world has loved, and whose memory is sweet. mrs. walford gives a most interesting account of her. we see her first a gay, laughing, flaxen-haired girl, 'mightily addicted to fun,' pleased to be finely dressed and sent to the opera to see the 'prince,' and be seen by him; pleased to exhibit her pretty figure in a becoming scarlet riding-habit, and to be looked at with obvious homage by the young officers quartered hard by, as she rode along the norfolk lanes; 'dissipated' by simply hearing their band play in the square, and made giddy by the veriest trifle: 'an idle, flirting, worldly girl,' to use her own words. then came the eventful day when 'in purple boots laced with scarlet' she went to hear william savery preach at the meeting house. this was the turning- point of her life, her psychological moment, as the phrase goes. after it came the era of 'thees' and 'thous,' of the drab gown and the beaver hat, of the visits to newgate and the convict ships, of the work of rescuing the outcast and seeking the lost. mrs. walford quotes the following interesting account of the famous interview with queen charlotte at the mansion-house: inside the egyptian hall there was a subject for hayter--the diminutive stature of the queen, covered with diamonds, and her countenance lighted up with the kindest benevolence; mrs. fry, her simple quaker's dress adding to the height of her figure--though a little flushed--preserving her wonted calmness of look and manner; several of the bishops standing near; the platform crowded with waving feathers, jewels, and orders; the hall lined with spectators, gaily and nobly clad, and the centre filled with hundreds of children, brought there from their different schools to be examined. a murmur of applause ran through the assemblage as the queen took mrs. fry by the hand. the murmur was followed by a clap and a shout, which was taken up by the multitudes without till it died away in the distance. those who regard hannah more as a prim maiden lady of the conventional type, with a pious and literary turn of mind, will be obliged to change their views should they read mrs. walford's admirable sketch of the authoress of percy. hannah more was a brilliant wit, a femme d'esprit, passionately fond of society, and loved by society in return. when the serious-minded little country girl, who at the age of eight had covered a whole quire of paper with letters seeking to reform imaginary depraved characters, and with return epistles full of contrition and promises of amendment, paid her first visit to london, she became at once the intimate friend of johnson, burke, sir joshua reynolds, garrick, and most of the distinguished people of the day, delighting them by her charm, and grace, and wit. 'i dined at the adelphi yesterday,' she writes in one of her letters. 'garrick was the very soul of the company, and i never saw johnson in more perfect good-humour. after all had risen to go we stood round them for above an hour, laughing, in defiance of every rule of decorum and chesterfield. i believe we should never have thought of sitting down, nor of parting, had not an impertinent watchman been saucily vociferating. johnson outstaid them all, and sat with me for half an hour.' the following is from her sister's pen: on tuesday evening we drank tea at sir joshua's with dr. johnson. hannah is certainly a great favourite. she was placed next him, and they had the entire conversation to themselves. they were both in remarkably high spirits, and it was certainly her lucky night; i never heard her say so many good things. the old genius was as jocular as the young one was pleasant. you would have imagined we were at some comedy had you heard our peals of laughter. they certainly tried which could 'pepper the highest,' and it is not clear to me that the lexicographer was really the highest seasoner. hannah more was certainly, as mrs. walford says, 'the feted and caressed idol of society.' the theatre at bristol vaunted, 'boast we not a more?' and the learned cits at oxford inscribed their acknowledgment of her authority. horace walpole sat on the doorstep--or threatened to do so--till she promised to go down to strawberry hill; foster quoted her; mrs. thrale twined her arms about her; wilberforce consulted her and employed her. when the estimate of the religion of the fashionable world was published anonymously, 'aut morus, aut angelus,' exclaimed the bishop of london, before he had read six pages. of her village stories and ballads two million copies were sold during the first year. caelebs in search of a wife ran into thirty editions. mrs. barbauld writes to tell her about 'a good and sensible woman' of her acquaintance, who, on being asked how she contrived to divert herself in the country, replied, 'i have my spinning-wheel and my hannah more. when i have spun one pound of flax i put on another, and when i have finished my book i begin it again. _i want no other amusement_.' how incredible it all sounds! no wonder that mrs. walford exclaims, 'no other amusement! good heavens! breathes there a man, woman, or child with soul so quiescent nowadays as to be satisfied with reels of flax and yards of hannah more? give us hannah's company, but not--not her writings!' it is only fair to say that mrs. walford has thoroughly carried out the views she expresses in this passage, for she gives us nothing of hannah more's grandiloquent literary productions, and yet succeeds in making us know her thoroughly. the whole book is well written, but the biography of hannah more is a wonderfully brilliant sketch, and deserves great praise. * * * * * miss mabel wotton has invented a new form of picture-gallery. feeling that the visible aspect of men and women can be expressed in literature no less than through the medium of line and colour, she has collected together a series of word portraits of famous writers extending from geoffrey chaucer to mrs. henry wood. it is a far cry from the author of the canterbury tales to the authoress of east lynne; but as a beauty, at any rate, mrs. wood deserved to be described, and we hear of the pure oval of her face, of her perfect mouth, her 'dazzling' complexion, and the extraordinary youth by which 'she kept to the last the . . . freshness of a young girl.' many of the 'famous writers' seem to have been very ugly. thomson, the poet, was of a dull countenance, and a gross, unanimated, uninviting appearance; richardson looked 'like a plump white mouse in a wig.' pope is described in the guardian, in , as 'a lively little creature, with long arms and legs: a spider is no ill emblem of him. he has been taken at a distance for a small windmill.' charles kingsley appears as 'rather tall, very angular, surprisingly awkward, with thin staggering legs, a hatchet face adorned with scraggy gray whiskers, a faculty for falling into the most ungainly attitudes, and making the most hideous contortions of visage and frame; with a rough provincial accent and an uncouth way of speaking which would be set down for absurd caricature on the boards of a comic theatre.' lamb is described by carlyle as 'the leanest of mankind; tiny black breeches buttoned to the knee-cap and no further, surmounting spindle legs also in black, face and head fineish, black, bony, lean, and of a jew type rather'; and talfourd says that the best portrait of him is his own description of braham--'a compound of the jew, the gentleman, and the angel.' william godwin was 'short and stout, his clothes loosely and carelessly put on, and usually old and worn; his hands were generally in his pockets; he had a remarkably large, bald head, and a weak voice; seeming generally half asleep when he walked, and even when he talked.' lord charlemont spoke of david hume as more like a 'turtle-eating alderman' than 'a refined philosopher.' mary russell mitford was ill- naturedly described by l.e.l. as 'sancho panza in petticoats!'; and as for poor rogers, who was somewhat cadaverous, the descriptions given of him are quite dreadful. lord dudley once asked him 'why, now that he could afford it, he did not set up his hearse,' and it is said that sydney smith gave him mortal offence by recommending him 'when he sat for his portrait to be drawn saying his prayers, with his face hidden in his hands,' christened him the 'death dandy,' and wrote underneath a picture of him, 'painted in his lifetime.' we must console ourselves--if not with mr. hardy's statement that 'ideal physical beauty is incompatible with mental development, and a full recognition of the evil of things'--at least with the pictures of those who had some comeliness, and grace, and charm. dr. grosart says of a miniature of edmund spenser, 'it is an exquisitely beautiful face. the brow is ample, the lips thin but mobile, the eyes a grayish-blue, the hair and beard a golden red (as of "red monie" of the ballads) or goldenly chestnut, the nose with semi-transparent nostril and keen, the chin firm-poised, the expression refined and delicate. altogether just such "presentment" of the poet of beauty par excellence, as one would have imagined.' antony wood describes sir richard lovelace as being, at the age of sixteen, 'the most amiable and beautiful person that ever eye beheld.' nor need we wonder at this when we remember the portrait of lovelace that hangs at dulwich college. barry cornwall, described himself by s. c. hall as 'a decidedly rather pretty little fellow,' said of keats: 'his countenance lives in my mind as one of singular beauty and brightness,--it had an expression as if he had been looking on some glorious sight.' chatterton and byron were splendidly handsome, and beauty of a high spiritual order may be claimed both for milton and shelley, though an industrious gentleman lately wrote a book in two volumes apparently for the purpose of proving that the latter of these two poets had a snub nose. hazlitt once said that 'a man's life may be a lie to himself and others, and yet a picture painted of him by a great artist would probably stamp his character.' few of the word-portraits in miss wotton's book can be said to have been drawn by a great artist, but they are all interesting, and miss wotton has certainly shown a wonderful amount of industry in collecting her references and in grouping them. it is not a book to be read through from beginning to end, but it is a delightful book to glance at, and by its means one can raise the ghosts of the dead, at least as well as the psychical society can. ( ) leaves of life. by e. nesbit. (longmans, green and co.) ( ) the wanderings of oisin and other poems. by w. b. yeats. (kegan paul.) ( ) dorinda. by lady munster. (hurst and blackett.) ( ) four biographies from 'blackwood.' by mrs. walford. (blackwood and sons.) ( ) word portraits of famous writers. edited by mabel wotton. (bentley and son.) mr. william morris's last book (pall mall gazette, march , .) mr. morris's last book is a piece of pure art workmanship from beginning to end, and the very remoteness of its style from the common language and ordinary interests of our day gives to the whole story a strange beauty and an unfamiliar charm. it is written in blended prose and verse, like the mediaeval 'cante-fable,' and tells the tale of the house of the wolfings in its struggles against the legionaries of rome then advancing into northern germany. it is a kind of saga, and the language in which the folk-epic, as we may call it, is set forth recalls the antique dignity and directness of our english tongue four centuries ago. from an artistic point of view it may be described as an attempt to return by a self-conscious effort to the conditions of an earlier and a fresher age. attempts of this kind are not uncommon in the history of art. from some such feeling came the pre-raphaelite movement of our own day and the archaistic movement of later greek sculpture. when the result is beautiful the method is justified, and no shrill insistence upon a supposed necessity for absolute modernity of form can prevail against the value of work that has the incomparable excellence of style. certainly, mr. morris's work possesses this excellence. his fine harmonies and rich cadences create in the reader that spirit by which alone can its own spirit be interpreted, awake in him something of the temper of romance and, by taking him out of his own age, place him in a truer and more vital relation to the great masterpieces of all time. it is a bad thing for an age to be always looking in art for its own reflection. it is well that, now and then, we are given work that is nobly imaginative in its method and purely artistic in its aim. as we read mr. morris's story with its fine alternations of verse and prose, its decorative and descriptive beauties, its wonderful handling of romantic and adventurous themes, we cannot but feel that we are as far removed from the ignoble fiction as we are from the ignoble facts of our own day. we breathe a purer air, and have dreams of a time when life had a kind of poetical quality of its own, and was simple and stately and complete. the tragic interest of the house of the wolfings centres round the figure of thiodolf, the great hero of the tribe. the goddess who loves him gives him, as he goes to battle against the romans, a magical hauberk on which rests this strange fate: that he who wears it shall save his own life and destroy the life of his land. thiodolf, finding out this secret, brings the hauberk back to the wood-sun, as she is called, and chooses death for himself rather than the ruin of his cause, and so the story ends. but mr. morris has always preferred romance to tragedy, and set the development of action above the concentration of passion. his story is like some splendid old tapestry crowded with stately images and enriched with delicate and delightful detail. the impression it leaves on us is not of a single central figure dominating the whole, but rather of a magnificent design to which everything is subordinated, and by which everything becomes of enduring import. it is the whole presentation of the primitive life that really fascinates. what in other hands would have been mere archaeology is here transformed by quick artistic instinct and made wonderful for us, and human and full of high interest. the ancient world seems to have come to life again for our pleasure. of a work so large and so coherent, completed with no less perfection than it is conceived, it is difficult by mere quotation to give any adequate idea. this, however, may serve as an example of its narrative power. the passage describes the visit of thiodolf to the wood-sun: the moonlight lay in a great flood on the grass without, and the dew was falling in the coldest hour of the night, and the earth smelled sweetly: the whole habitation was asleep now, and there was no sound to be known as the sound of any creature, save that from the distant meadow came the lowing of a cow that had lost her calf, and that a white owl was flitting about near the eaves of the roof with her wild cry that sounded like the mocking of merriment now silent. thiodolf turned toward the wood, and walked steadily through the scattered hazel-trees, and thereby into the thick of the beech-trees, whose boles grew smooth and silver-grey, high and close-set: and so on and on he went as one going by a well-known path, though there was no path, till all the moonlight was quenched under the close roof of the beech-leaves, though yet for all the darkness, no man could go there and not feel that the roof was green above him. still he went on in despite of the darkness, till at last there was a glimmer before him, that grew greater till he came unto a small wood-lawn whereon the turf grew again, though the grass was but thin, because little sunlight got to it, so close and thick were the tall trees round about it. . . . nought looked thiodolf either at the heavens above, or the trees, as he strode from off the husk-strewn floor of the beech wood on to the scanty grass of the lawn, but his eyes looked straight before him at that which was amidmost of the lawn: and little wonder was that; for there on a stone chair sat a woman exceeding fair, clad in glittering raiment, her hair lying as pale in the moonlight on the grey stone as the barley acres in the august night before the reaping-hook goes in amongst them. she sat there as though she were awaiting some one, and he made no stop nor stay, but went straight up to her, and took her in his arms, and kissed her mouth and her eyes, and she him again; and then he sat himself down beside her. as an example of the beauty of the verse we would take this from the song of the wood-sun. it at least shows how perfectly the poetry harmonises with the prose, and how natural the transition is from the one to the other: in many a stead doom dwelleth, nor sleepeth day nor night: the rim of the bowl she kisseth, and beareth the chambering light when the kings of men wend happy to the bride-bed from the board. it is little to say that she wendeth the edge of the grinded sword, when about the house half builded she hangeth many a day; the ship from the strand she shoveth, and on his wonted way by the mountain hunter fareth where his foot ne'er failed before: she is where the high bank crumbles at last on the river's shore: the mower's scythe she whetteth; and lulleth the shepherd to sleep where the deadly ling-worm wakeneth in the desert of the sheep. now we that come of the god-kin of her redes for ourselves we wot, but her will with the lives of men-folk and their ending know we not. so therefore i bid thee not fear for thyself of doom and her deed, but for me: and i bid thee hearken to the helping of my need. or else--art thou happy in life, or lusteth thou to die in the flower of thy days, when thy glory and thy longing bloom on high? the last chapter of the book in which we are told of the great feast made for the dead is so finely written that we cannot refrain from quoting this passage: now was the glooming falling upon the earth; but the hall was bright within even as the hall-sun had promised. therein was set forth the treasure of the wolfings; fair cloths were hung on the walls, goodly broidered garments on the pillars: goodly brazen cauldrons and fair- carven chests were set down in nooks where men could see them well, and vessels of gold and silver were set all up and down the tables of the feast. the pillars also were wreathed with flowers, and flowers hung garlanded from the walls over the precious hangings; sweet gums and spices were burning in fair-wrought censers of brass, and so many candles were alight under the roof, that scarce had it looked more ablaze when the romans had litten the faggots therein for its burning amidst the hurry of the morning battle. there then they fell to feasting, hallowing in the high-tide of their return with victory in their hands: and the dead corpses of thiodolf and otter, clad in precious glittering raiment, looked down on them from the high-seat, and the kindreds worshipped them and were glad; and they drank the cup to them before any others, were they gods or men. in days of uncouth realism and unimaginative imitation, it is a high pleasure to welcome work of this kind. it is a work in which all lovers of literature cannot fail to delight. a tale of the house of the wolfings and all the kindreds of the mark. written in prose and in verse by william morris. (reeves and turner.) adam lindsay gordon (pall mall gazette, march , .) a critic recently remarked of adam lindsay gordon that through him australia had found her first fine utterance in song. { } this, however, is an amiable error. there is very little of australia in gordon's poetry. his heart and mind and fancy were always preoccupied with memories and dreams of england and such culture as england gave him. he owed nothing to the land of his adoption. had he stayed at home he would have done much better work. in a few poems such as the sick stockrider, from the wreck, and wolf and hound there are notes of australian influences, and these swinburnian stanzas from the dedication to the bush ballads deserve to be quoted, though the promise they hold out was never fulfilled: they are rhymes rudely strung with intent less of sound than of words, in lands where bright blossoms are scentless, and songless bright birds; where, with fire and fierce drought on her tresses, insatiable summer oppresses sere woodlands and sad wildernesses, and faint flocks and herds. whence gather'd?--the locust's grand chirrup may furnish a stave; the ring of a rowel and stirrup, the wash of a wave. the chaunt of the marsh frog in rushes, that chimes through the pauses and hushes of nightfall, the torrent that gushes, the tempests that rave. in the gathering of night gloom o'erhead, in the still silent change, all fire-flushed when forest trees redden on slopes of the range. when the gnarl'd, knotted trunks eucalyptian seem carved, like weird columns egyptian, with curious device--quaint inscription, and hieroglyph strange; in the spring, when the wattle gold trembles 'twixt shadow and shine, when each dew-laden air draught resembles a long draught of wine; when the sky-line's blue burnish'd resistance makes deeper the dreamiest distance, some song in all hearts hath existence,-- such songs have been mine. as a rule, however, gordon is distinctly english, and the landscapes he describes are always the landscapes of our own country. he writes about mediaeval lords and ladies in his rhyme of joyous garde, about cavaliers and roundheads in the romance of britomarte, and ashtaroth, his longest and most ambitious poem, deals with the adventures of the norman barons and danish knights of ancient days. steeped in swinburne and bewildered with browning, he set himself to reproduce the marvellous melody of the one and the dramatic vigour and harsh strength of the other. from the wreck is a sort of australian edition of the ride to ghent. these are the first three stanzas of one of the so-called bush ballads: on skies still and starlit white lustres take hold, and grey flashes scarlet, and red flashes gold. and sun-glories cover the rose, shed above her, like lover and lover they flame and unfold. . . . . . still bloom in the garden green grass-plot, fresh lawn, though pasture lands harden and drought fissures yawn. while leaves, not a few fall, let rose-leaves for you fall, leaves pearl-strung with dewfall, and gold shot with dawn. does the grass-plot remember the fall of your feet in autumn's red ember when drought leagues with heat, when the last of the roses despairingly closes in the lull that reposes ere storm winds wax fleet? and the following verses show that the norman baron of ashtaroth had read dolores just once too often: dead priests of osiris, and isis, and apis! that mystical lore, like a nightmare, conceived in a crisis of fever, is studied no more; dead magian! yon star-troop that spangles the arch of yon firmament vast looks calm, like a host of white angels on dry dust of votaries past. on seas unexplored can the ship shun sunk rocks? can man fathom life's links, past or future, unsolved by egyptian or theban, unspoken by sphynx? the riddle remains yet, unravell'd by students consuming night oil. o earth! we have toil'd, we have travailed: how long shall we travail and toil? by the classics gordon was always very much fascinated. he loved what he calls 'the scroll that is godlike and greek,' though he is rather uncertain about his quantities, rhyming 'polyxena' to 'athena' and 'aphrodite' to 'light,' and occasionally makes very rash statements, as when he represents leonidas exclaiming to the three hundred at thermopylae: 'ho! comrades let us gaily dine-- this night with plato we shall sup,' if this be not, as we hope it is, a printer's error. what the australians liked best were his spirited, if somewhat rough, horse-racing and hunting poems. indeed, it was not till he found that how we beat the favourite was on everybody's lips that he consented to forego his anonymity and appear in the unsuspected character of a verse-writer, having up to that time produced his poems shyly, scribbled them on scraps of paper, and sent them unsigned to the local magazines. the fact is that the social atmosphere of melbourne was not favourable to poets, and the worthy colonials seem to have shared audrey's doubts as to whether poetry was a true and honest thing. it was not till gordon won the cup steeplechase for major baker in that he became really popular, and probably there were many who felt that to steer babbler to the winning- post was a finer achievement than 'to babble o'er green fields.' on the whole, it is impossible not to regret that gordon ever emigrated. his literary power cannot be denied, but it was stunted in uncongenial surroundings and marred by the rude life he was forced to lead. australia has converted many of our failures into prosperous and admirable mediocrities, but she certainly spoiled one of our poets for us. ovid at tomi is not more tragic than gordon driving cattle or farming an unprofitable sheep-ranch. that australia, however, will some day make amends by producing a poet of her own we cannot doubt, and for him there will be new notes to sound and new wonders to tell of. the description, given by mr. marcus clarke in the preface to this volume, of the aspect and spirit of nature in australia is most curious and suggestive. the australian forests, he tells us, are funereal and stern, and 'seem to stifle, in their black gorges, a story of sullen despair.' no leaves fall from the trees, but 'from the melancholy gum strips of white bark hang and rustle. great grey kangaroos hop noiselessly over the coarse grass. flights of cockatoos stream out, shrieking like evil souls. the sun suddenly sinks and the mopokes burst out into horrible peals of semi-human laughter.' the aborigines aver that, when night comes, from the bottomless depth of some lagoon a misshapen monster rises, dragging his loathsome length along the ooze. from a corner of the silent forest rises a dismal chant, and around a fire dance natives painted like skeletons. all is fear-inspiring and gloomy. no bright fancies are linked with the memories of the mountains. hopeless explorers have named them out of their sufferings--mount misery, mount dreadful, mount despair. in australia alone (says mr. clarke) is to be found the grotesque, the weird, the strange scribblings of nature learning how to write. but the dweller in the wilderness acknowledges the subtle charm of the fantastic land of monstrosities. he becomes familiar with the beauty of loneliness. whispered to by the myriad tongues of the wilderness, he learns the language of the barren and the uncouth, and can read the hieroglyphs of haggard gum-trees, blown into odd shapes, distorted with fierce hot winds, or cramped with cold nights, when the southern cross freezes in a cloudless sky of icy blue. the phantasmagoria of that wild dream-land termed the bush interprets itself, and the poet of our desolation begins to comprehend why free esau loved his heritage of desert sand better than all the bountiful richness of egypt. here, certainly, is new material for the poet, here is a land that is waiting for its singer. such a singer gordon was not. he remained thoroughly english, and the best that we can say of him is that he wrote imperfectly in australia those poems that in england he might have made perfect. poems. by adam lindsay gordon. (samuel mullen.) the poets' corner--ix (pall mall gazette, march , .) judges, like the criminal classes, have their lighter moments, and it was probably in one of his happiest and, certainly, in one of his most careless moods that mr. justice denman conceived the idea of putting the early history of rome into doggerel verse for the benefit of a little boy of the name of jack. poor jack! he is still, we learn from the preface, under six years of age, and it is sad to think of the future career of a boy who is being brought up on bad history and worse poetry. here is a passage from the learned judge's account of romulus: poor tatius by some unknown hand was soon assassinated, some said by romulus' command; i know not--but 'twas fated. sole king again, this romulus play'd some fantastic tricks, lictors he had, who hatchets bore bound up with rods of sticks. he treated all who thwarted him no better than a dog, sometimes 'twas 'heads off, lictors, there!' sometimes 'ho! lictors, flog!' then he created senators, and gave them rings of gold; old soldiers all; their name deriv'd from 'senex' which means 'old.' knights, too, he made, good horsemen all, who always were at hand to execute immediately whate'er he might command. but these were of patrician rank, plebeians all the rest; remember this distinction, jack! for 'tis a useful test. the reign of tullius hostilius opens with a very wicked rhyme: as numa, dying, only left a daughter, named pompilia, the senate had to choose a king. they choose one sadly _sillier_. if jack goes to the bad, mr. justice denman will have much to answer for. after such a terrible example from the bench, it is pleasant to turn to the seats reserved for queen's counsel. mr. cooper willis's tales and legends, if somewhat boisterous in manner, is still very spirited and clever. the prison of the danes is not at all a bad poem, and there is a great deal of eloquent, strong writing in the passage beginning: the dying star-song of the night sinks in the dawning day, and the dark-blue sheen is changed to green, and the green fades into grey, and the sleepers are roused from their slumbers, and at last the danesmen know how few of all their numbers are left them by the foe. not much can be said of a poet who exclaims: oh, for the power of byron or of moore, to glow with one, and with the latter soar. and yet mr. moodie is one of the best of those south african poets whose works have been collected and arranged by mr. wilmot. pringle, the 'father of south african verse,' comes first, of course, and his best poem is, undoubtedly, afar in the desert: afar in the desert i love to ride, with the silent bush-boy alone by my side: away, away, from the dwelling of men by the wild-deer's haunt, by the buffalo's glen: by valleys remote where the oribi plays, where the gnu, the gazelle and the hartebeest graze, and the kudu and eland unhunted recline by the skirts of grey forests o'erhung with wild vine, where the elephant browses at peace in his wood, and the river-horse gambols unscared in the flood, and the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will in the fen where the wild ass is drinking his fill. it is not, however, a very remarkable production. the smouse, by fannin, has the modern merit of incomprehensibility. it reads like something out of the hunting of the snark: i'm a smouse, i'm a smouse in the wilderness wide, the veld is my home, and the wagon's my pride: the crack of my 'voerslag' shall sound o'er the lea, i'm a smouse, i'm a smouse, and the trader is free! i heed not the governor, i fear not his law, i care not for civilisation one straw, and ne'er to 'ompanda'--'umgazis' i'll throw while my arm carries fist, or my foot bears a toe! 'trek,' 'trek,' ply the whip--touch the fore oxen's skin, i'll warrant we'll 'go it' through thick and through thin-- loop! loop ye oud skellums! ot vikmaan trek jy; i'm a smouse, i'm a smouse, and the trader is free! the south african poets, as a class, are rather behind the age. they seem to think that 'aurora' is a very novel and delightful epithet for the dawn. on the whole they depress us. chess, by mr. louis tylor, is a sort of christmas masque in which the dramatis personae consist of some unmusical carollers, a priggish young man called eric, and the chessmen off the board. the white queen's knight begins a ballad and the black king's bishop completes it. the pawns sing in chorus and the castles converse with each other. the silliness of the form makes it an absolutely unreadable book. mr. williamson's poems of nature and life are as orthodox in spirit as they are commonplace in form. a few harmless heresies of art and thought would do this poet no harm. nearly everything that he says has been said before and said better. the only original thing in the volume is the description of mr. robert buchanan's 'grandeur of mind.' this is decidedly new. dr. cockle tells us that mullner's guilt and the ancestress of grillparzer are the masterpieces of german fate-tragedy. his translation of the first of these two masterpieces does not make us long for any further acquaintance with the school. here is a specimen from the fourth act of the fate-tragedy. scene viii. elvira. hugo. elvira (after long silence, leaving the harp, steps to hugo, and seeks his gaze). hugo (softly). though i made sacrifice of thy sweet life. the father has forgiven. can the wife--forgive? elvira (on his breast). she can! hugo (with all the warmth of love). dear wife! elvira (after a pause, in deep sorrow). must it be so, beloved one? hugo (sorry to have betrayed himself). what? in his preface to the circle of seasons, a series of hymns and verses for the seasons of the church, the rev. t. b. dover expresses a hope that this well-meaning if somewhat tedious book 'may be of value to those many earnest people to whom the subjective aspect of truth is helpful.' the poem beginning lord, in the inn of my poor worthless heart guests come and go; but there is room for thee, has some merit and might be converted into a good sonnet. the majority of the poems, however, are quite worthless. there seems to be some curious connection between piety and poor rhymes. lord henry somerset's verse is not so good as his music. most of the songs of adieu are marred by their excessive sentimentality of feeling and by the commonplace character of their weak and lax form. there is nothing that is new and little that is true in verse of this kind: the golden leaves are falling, falling one by one, their tender 'adieux' calling to the cold autumnal sun. the trees in the keen and frosty air stand out against the sky, 'twould seem they stretch their branches bare to heaven in agony. it can be produced in any quantity. lord henry somerset has too much heart and too little art to make a good poet, and such art as he does possess is devoid of almost every intellectual quality and entirely lacking in any intellectual strength. he has nothing to say and says it. mrs. cora m. davis is eloquent about the splendours of what the authoress of the circle of seasons calls 'this earthly ball.' let's sing the beauties of this grand old earth, she cries, and proceeds to tell how imagination paints old egypt's former glory, of mighty temples reaching heavenward, of grim, colossal statues, whose barbaric story the caustic pens of erudition still record, whose ancient cities of glittering minarets reflect the gold of afric's gorgeous sunsets. 'the caustic pens of erudition' is quite delightful and will be appreciated by all egyptologists. there is also a charming passage in the same poem on the pictures of the old masters: the mellow richness of whose tints impart, by contrast, greater delicacy still to modern art. this seems to us the highest form of optimism we have ever come across in art criticism. it is american in origin, mrs. davis, as her biographer tells us, having been born in alabama, genesee co., n.y. ( ) the story of the kings of rome in verse. by the hon. g. denman, judge of the high court of justice. (trubner and co.) ( ) tales and legends in verse. by e. cooper willis, q.c. (kegan paul.) ( ) the poetry of south africa. collected and arranged by a. wilmot. (sampson low and co.) ( ) chess. a christmas masque. by louis tylor. (fisher unwin.) ( ) poems of nature and life. by david r. williamson. (blackwood.) ( ) guilt. translated from the german by j. cockle, m.d. (williams and norgate.) ( ) the circle of seasons. by k. e. v. (elliot stock.) ( ) songs of adieu. by lord henry somerset. (chatto and windus.) ( ) immortelles. by cora m. davis. (g. p. putnam's sons.) some literary notes--iv (woman's world, april .) 'in modern life,' said matthew arnold once, 'you i cannot well enter a monastery; but you can enter the wordsworth society.' i fear that this will sound to many a somewhat uninviting description of this admirable and useful body, whose papers and productions have been recently published by professor knight, under the title of wordsworthiana. 'plain living and high thinking' are not popular ideals. most people prefer to live in luxury, and to think with the majority. however, there is really nothing in the essays and addresses of the wordsworth society that need cause the public any unnecessary alarm; and it is gratifying to note that, although the society is still in the first blush of enthusiasm, it has not yet insisted upon our admiring wordsworth's inferior work. it praises what is worthy of praise, reverences what should be reverenced, and explains what does not require explanation. one paper is quite delightful; it is from the pen of mr. rawnsley, and deals with such reminiscences of wordsworth as still linger among the peasantry of westmoreland. mr. rawnsley grew up, he tells us, in the immediate vicinity of the present poet-laureate's old home in lincolnshire, and had been struck with the swiftness with which, as year by year the labourer tills his wonted glebe, or lops the glades, the memories of the poet of the somersby wold had 'faded from off the circle of the hills'--had, indeed, been astonished to note how little real interest was taken in him or his fame, and how seldom his works were met with in the houses of the rich or poor in the very neighbourhood. accordingly, when he came to reside in the lake country, he endeavoured to find out what of wordsworth's memory among the men of the dales still lingered on--how far he was still a moving presence among them--how far his works had made their way into the cottages and farmhouses of the valleys. he also tried to discover how far the race of westmoreland and cumberland farm-folk--the 'matthews' and the 'michaels' of the poet, as described by him--were real or fancy pictures, or how far the characters of the dalesmen had been altered in any remarkable manner by tourist influences during the thirty-two years that have passed since the lake poet was laid to rest. with regard to the latter point, it will be remembered that mr. ruskin, writing in , said that 'the border peasantry, painted with absolute fidelity by scott and wordsworth,' are, as hitherto, a scarcely injured race; that in his fields at coniston he had men who might have fought with henry v. at agincourt without being distinguished from any of his knights; that he could take his tradesmen's word for a thousand pounds, and need never latch his garden gate; and that he did not fear molestation, in wood or on moor, for his girl guests. mr. rawnsley, however, found that a certain beauty had vanished which the simple retirement of old valley days fifty years ago gave to the men among whom wordsworth lived. 'the strangers,' he says, 'with their gifts of gold, their vulgarity, and their requirements, have much to answer for.' as for their impressions of wordsworth, to understand them one must understand the vernacular of the lake district. 'what was mr. wordsworth like in personal appearance?' said mr. rawnsley once to an old retainer, who still lives not far from rydal mount. 'he was a ugly-faaced man, and a mean liver,' was the answer; but all that was really meant was that he was a man of marked features, and led a very simple life in matters of food and raiment. another old man, who believed that wordsworth 'got most of his poetry out of hartley,' spoke of the poet's wife as 'a very onpleasant woman, very onpleasant indeed. a close-fisted woman, that's what she was.' this, however, seems to have been merely a tribute to mrs. wordsworth's admirable housekeeping qualities. the first person interviewed by mr. rawnsley was an old lady who had been once in service at rydal mount, and was, in , a lodging-house keeper at grasmere. she was not a very imaginative person, as may be gathered from the following anecdote:--mr. rawnsley's sister came in from a late evening walk, and said, 'o mrs. d---, have you seen the wonderful sunset?' the good lady turned sharply round and, drawing herself to her full height, as if mortally offended, answered: 'no, miss; i'm a tidy cook, i know, and "they say" a decentish body for a landlady, but i don't knaw nothing about sunsets or them sort of things, they've never been in my line.' her reminiscence of wordsworth was as worthy of tradition as it was explanatory, from her point of view, of the method in which wordsworth composed, and was helped in his labours by his enthusiastic sister. 'well, you know,' she said, 'mr. wordsworth went humming and booing about, and she, miss dorothy, kept close behint him, and she picked up the bits as he let 'em fall, and tak' 'em down, and put 'em together on paper for him. and you may be very well sure as how she didn't understand nor make sense out of 'em, and i doubt that he didn't know much about them either himself, but, howivver, there's a great many folk as do, i dare say.' of wordsworth's habit of talking to himself, and composing aloud, we hear a great deal. 'was mr. wordsworth a sociable man?' asked mr. rawnsley of a rydal farmer. 'wudsworth, for a' he had noa pride nor nowt,' was the answer, 'was a man who was quite one to hissel, ye kna. he was not a man as folks could crack wi', nor not a man as could crack wi' folks. but there was another thing as kep' folk off, he had a ter'ble girt deep voice, and ye might see his faace agaan for long enuff. i've knoan folks, village lads and lasses, coming over by old road above, which runs from grasmere to rydal, flayt a'most to death there by wishing gaate to hear the girt voice a groanin' and mutterin' and thunderin' of a still evening. and he had a way of standin' quite still by the rock there in t' path under rydal, and folks could hear sounds like a wild beast coming from the rocks, and childer were scared fit to be dead a'most.' wordsworth's description of himself constantly recurs to one: and who is he with modest looks, and clad in sober russet gown? he murmurs by the running brooks, a music sweeter than their own; he is retired as noontide dew, or fountain in a noonday grove. but the corroboration comes in strange guise. mr. rawnsley asked one of the dalesmen about wordsworth's dress and habits. this was the reply: 'wudsworth wore a jem crow, never seed him in a boxer in my life,--a jem crow and an old blue cloak was his rig, and _as for his habits, he had noan_; niver knew him with a pot i' his hand, or a pipe i' his mouth. but he was a great skater, for a' that--noan better in these parts--why, he could cut his own naame upo' the ice, could mr. wudsworth.' skating seems to have been wordsworth's one form of amusement. he was 'over feckless i' his hands'--could not drive or ride--'not a bit of fish in him,' and 'nowt of a mountaineer.' but he could skate. the rapture of the time when, as a boy, on esthwaite's frozen lake, he had wheeled about, proud and exulting like an untired horse that cares not for his home, and, shod with steel, had hissed along the polished ice, was continued, mr. rawnsley tells us, into manhood's later day; and mr. rawnsley found many proofs that the skill the poet had gained, when not seldom from the uproar he retired, into a silent bay, or sportively glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng to cut across the reflex of a star, was of such a kind as to astonish the natives among whom he dwelt. the recollection of a fall he once had, when his skate caught on a stone, still lingers in the district. a boy had been sent to sweep the snow from the white moss tarn for him. 'did mr. wudsworth gie ye owt?' he was asked, when he returned from his labour. 'na, but i seed him tumlle, though!' was the answer. 'he was a ter'ble girt skater, was wudsworth now,' says one of mr. rawnsley's informants; 'he would put one hand i' his breast (he wore a frill shirt i' them days), and t'other hand i' his waistband, same as shepherds does to keep their hands warm, and he would stand up straight and sway and swing away grandly.' of his poetry they did not think much, and whatever was good in it they ascribed to his wife, his sister, and hartley coleridge. he wrote poetry, they said, 'because he couldn't help it--because it was his hobby'--for sheer love, and not for money. they could not understand his doing work 'for nowt,' and held his occupation in somewhat light esteem because it did not bring in 'a deal o' brass to the pocket.' 'did you ever read his poetry, or see any books about in the farmhouses?' asked mr. rawnsley. the answer was curious: 'ay, ay, time or two. but ya're weel aware there's potry and potry. there's potry wi' a li'le bit pleasant in it, and potry sic as a man can laugh at or the childer understand, and some as takes a deal of mastery to make out what's said, and a deal of wudsworth's was this sort, ye kna. you could tell fra the man's faace his potry would niver have no laugh in it. his potry was quite different work from li'le hartley. hartley 'ud goa running along beside o' the brooks and mak his, and goa in the first oppen door and write what he had got upo' paper. but wudsworth's potry was real hard stuff, and bided a deal of makking, and he'd keep it in his head for long enough. eh, but it's queer, mon, different ways folks hes of making potry now . . . not but what mr. wudsworth didn't stand very high, and was a well-spoken man enough.' the best criticism on wordsworth that mr. rawnsley heard was this: 'he was an open-air man, and a great critic of trees.' there are many useful and well-written essays in professor knight's volume, but mr. rawnsley's is far the most interesting of all. it gives us a graphic picture of the poet as he appeared in outward semblance and manner to those about whom he wrote. * * * * * mary myles is mrs. edmonds's first attempt at writing fiction. mrs. edmonds is well known as an authority on modern greek literature, and her style has often a very pleasant literary flavour, though in her dialogues she has not as yet quite grasped the difference between la langue parlee and la langue ecrite. her heroine is a sort of nausicaa from girton, who develops into the pallas athena of a provincial school. she has her love- romance, like her homeric prototype, and her odysseus returns to her at the close of the book. it is a nice story. * * * * * lady dilke's art in the modern state is a book that cannot fail to interest deeply every one who cares either for art or for history. the 'modern state' which gives its title to the book is that political and social organisation of our day that comes to us from the france of richelieu and colbert, and is the direct outcome of the 'grand siecle,' the true greatness of which century, as lady dilke points out, consists not in its vain wars, and formal stage and stilted eloquence, and pompous palaces, but in the formation and working out of the political and social system of which these things were the first-fruits. to the question that naturally rises on one's lips, 'how can one dwell on the art of the seventeenth century?--it has no charm,' lady dilke answers that this art presents in its organisation, from the point of view of social polity, problems of the highest intellectual interest. throughout all its phases--to quote her own words--'the life of france wears, during the seventeenth century, a political aspect. the explanation of all changes in the social system, in letters, in the arts, in fashions even, has to be sought in the necessities of the political position; and the seeming caprices of taste take their rise from the same causes which went to determine the making of a treaty or the promulgation of an edict. this seems all the stranger because, in times preceding, letters and the arts, at least, appeared to flourish in conditions as far removed from the action of statecraft as if they had been a growth of fairyland. in the middle ages they were devoted to a virgin image of virtue; they framed, in the shade of the sanctuary, an ideal shining with the beauty born of self-renunciation, of resignation to self-enforced conditions of moral and physical suffering. by the queenly venus of the renaissance they were consecrated to the joys of life, and the world saw that through their perfect use men might renew their strength, and behold virtue and beauty with clear eyes. it was, however, reserved for the rulers of france in the seventeenth century fully to realise the political function of letters and the arts in the modern state, and their immense importance in connection with the prosperity of a commercial nation.' the whole subject is certainly extremely fascinating. the renaissance had for its object the development of great personalities. the perfect freedom of the temperament in matters of art, the perfect freedom of the intellect in intellectual matters, the full development of the individual, were the things it aimed at. as we study its history we find it full of great anarchies. it solved no political or social problems; it did not seek to solve them. the ideal of the 'grand siecle,' and of richelieu, in whom the forces of that great age were incarnate, was different. the ideas of citizenship, of the building up of a great nation, of the centralisation of forces, of collective action, of ethnic unity of purpose, came before the world. it was inevitable that they should have done so, and lady dilke, with her keen historic sense and her wonderful power of grouping facts, has told us the story of their struggle and their victory. her book is, from every point of view, a most remarkable work. her style is almost french in its clearness, its sobriety, its fine and, at times, ascetic simplicity. the whole ground- plan and intellectual-conception is admirable. it is, of course, easy to see how much art lost by having a new mission forced upon her. the creation of a formal tradition upon classical lines is never without its danger, and it is sad to find the provincial towns of france, once so varied and individual in artistic expression, writing to paris for designs and advice. and yet, through colbert's great centralising scheme of state supervision and state aid, france was the one country in europe, and has remained the one country in europe, where the arts are not divorced from industry. the academy of painting and sculpture and the school of architecture were not, to quote lady dilke's words, called into being in order that royal palaces should be raised surpassing all others in magnificence: bievrebache and the savonnerie were not established only that such palaces should be furnished more sumptuously than those of an eastern fairy-tale. colbert did not care chiefly to inquire, when organising art administration, what were the institutions best fitted to foster the proper interests of art; he asked, in the first place, what would most contribute to swell the national importance. even so, in surrounding the king with the treasures of luxury, his object was twofold--their possession should, indeed, illustrate the crown, but should also be a unique source of advantage to the people. glass-workers were brought from venice, and lace-makers from flanders, that they might yield to france the secrets of their skill. palaces and public buildings were to afford commissions for french artists, and a means of technical and artistic education for all those employed upon them. the royal collections were but a further instrument in educating the taste and increasing the knowledge of the working classes. the costly factories of the savonnerie and the gobelins were practical schools, in which every detail of every branch of all those industries which contribute to the furnishing and decoration of houses were brought to perfection; whilst a band of chosen apprentices were trained in the adjoining schools. to colbert is due the honour of having foreseen, not only that the interests of the modern state were inseparably bound up with those of industry, but also that the interests of industry could not, without prejudice, be divorced from art. mr. bret harte has never written anything finer than cressy. it is one of his most brilliant and masterly productions, and will take rank with the best of his californian stories. hawthorne re-created for us the america of the past with the incomparable grace of a very perfect artist, but mr. bret harte's emphasised modernity has, in its own sphere, won equal, or almost equal, triumphs. wit, pathos, humour, realism, exaggeration, and romance are in this marvellous story all blended together, and out of the very clash and chaos of these things comes life itself. and what a curious life it is, half civilised and half barbarous, naive and corrupt, chivalrous and commonplace, real and improbable! cressy herself is the most tantalising of heroines. she is always eluding one's grasp. it is difficult to say whether she sacrifices herself on the altar of romance, or is merely a girl with an extraordinary sense of humour. she is intangible, and the more we know of her, the more incomprehensible she becomes. it is pleasant to come across a heroine who is not identified with any great cause, and represents no important principle, but is simply a wonderful nymph from american backwoods, who has in her something of artemis, and not a little of aphrodite. * * * * * it is always a pleasure to come across an american poet who is not national, and who tries to give expression to the literature that he loves rather than to the land in which he lives. the muses care so little for geography! mr. richard day's poems have nothing distinctively american about them. here and there in his verse one comes across a flower that does not bloom in our meadows, a bird to which our woodlands have never listened. but the spirit that animates the verse is simple and human, and there is hardly a poem in the volume that english lips might not have uttered. sounds of the temple has much in it that is interesting in metre as well as in matter:-- then sighed a poet from his soul: 'the clouds are blown across the stars, and chill have grown my lattice bars; i cannot keep my vigil whole by the lone candle of my soul. 'this reed had once devoutest tongue, and sang as if to its small throat god listened for a perfect note; as charily this lyre was strung: god's praise is slow and has no tongue.' but the best poem is undoubtedly the hymn to the mountain:-- within the hollow of thy hand-- this wooded dell half up the height, where streams take breath midway in flight-- here let me stand. here warbles not a lowland bird, here are no babbling tongues of men; thy rivers rustling through the glen alone are heard. above no pinion cleaves its way, save when the eagle's wing, as now, with sweep imperial shades thy brow beetling and grey. what thoughts are thine, majestic peak? and moods that were not born to chime with poets' ineffectual rhyme and numbers weak? the green earth spreads thy gaze before, and the unfailing skies are brought within the level of thy thought. there is no more. the stars salute thy rugged crown with syllables of twinkling fire; like choral burst from distant choir, their psalm rolls down. and i within this temple niche, like statue set where prophets talk, catch strains they murmur as they walk, and i am rich. miss ella curtis's a game of chance is certainly the best novel that this clever young writer has as yet produced. if it has a fault, it is that it is crowded with too much incident, and often surrenders the study of character to the development of plot. indeed, it has many plots, each of which, in more economical hands, would have served as the basis of a complete story. we have as the central incident the career of a clever lady's-maid who personifies her mistress, and is welcomed by sir john erskine, an english country gentleman, as the widow of his dead son. the real husband of the adventuress tracks his wife to england, and claims her. she pretends that he is insane, and has him removed. then he tries to murder her, and when she recovers, she finds her beauty gone and her secret discovered. there is quite enough sensation here to interest even the jaded city man, who is said to have grown quite critical of late on the subject of what is really a thrilling plot. but miss curtis is not satisfied. the lady's-maid has an extremely handsome brother, who is a wonderful musician, and has a divine tenor voice. with him the stately lady judith falls wildly in love, and this part of the story is treated with a great deal of subtlety and clever analysis. however, lady judith does not marry her rustic orpheus, so the social convenances are undisturbed. the romance of the rector of the parish, who falls in love with a charming school-teacher, is a good deal overshadowed by lady judith's story, but it is pleasantly told. a more important episode is the marriage between the daughter of the tory squire and the radical candidate for the borough. they separate on their wedding-day, and are not reconciled till the third volume. no one could say that miss curtis's book is dull. in fact, her style is very bright and amusing. it is impossible, perhaps, not to be a little bewildered by the amount of characters, and by the crowded incidents; but, on the whole, the scheme of the construction is clear, and certainly the decoration is admirable. ( ) wordsworthiana: a selection from papers read to the wordsworth society. edited by william knight. (macmillan and co.) ( ) mary myles. by e. m. edmonds. (remington and co.) ( ) art in the modern state. by lady dilke. (chapman and hall.) ( ) cressy. by bret harte. (macmillan and co.) ( ) poems. by richard day. (new york: cassell and co.) ( ) a game of chance. by ella curtis. (hurst and blackett.) mr. froude's blue-book (pall mall gazette, april , .) blue-books are generally dull reading, but blue-books on ireland have always been interesting. they form the record of one of the great tragedies of modern europe. in them england has written down her indictment against herself and has given to the world the history of her shame. if in the last century she tried to govern ireland with an insolence that was intensified by race hatred and religious prejudice, she has sought to rule her in this century with a stupidity that is aggravated by good intentions. the last of these blue-books, mr. froude's heavy novel, has appeared, however, somewhat too late. the society that he describes has long since passed away. an entirely new factor has appeared in the social development of the country, and this factor is the irish-american and his influence. to mature its powers, to concentrate its actions, to learn the secret of its own strength and of england's weakness, the celtic intellect has had to cross the atlantic. at home it had but learned the pathetic weakness of nationality; in a strange land it realised what indomitable forces nationality possesses. what captivity was to the jews, exile has been to the irish. america and american influence has educated them. their first practical leader is an irish-american. but while mr. froude's book has no practical relation to modern irish politics, and does not offer any solution of the present question, it has a certain historical value. it is a vivid picture of ireland in the latter half of the eighteenth century, a picture often false in its lights and exaggerated in its shadows, but a picture none the less. mr. froude admits the martyrdom of ireland but regrets that the martyrdom was not more completely carried out. his ground of complaint against the executioner is not his trade but his bungling. it is the bluntness not the cruelty of the sword that he objects to. resolute government, that shallow shibboleth of those who do not understand how complex a thing the art of government is, is his posthumous panacea for past evils. his hero, colonel goring, has the words law and order ever on his lips, meaning by the one the enforcement of unjust legislation, and implying by the other the suppression of every fine national aspiration. that the government should enforce iniquity and the governed submit to it, seems to mr. froude, as it certainly is to many others, the true ideal of political science. like most penmen he overrates the power of the sword. where england has had to struggle she has been wise. where physical strength has been on her side, as in ireland, she has been made unwieldy by that strength. her own strong hands have blinded her. she has had force but no direction. there is, of course, a story in mr. froude's novel. it is not simply a political disquisition. the interest of the tale, such as it is, centres round two men, colonel goring and morty sullivan, the cromwellian and the celt. these men are enemies by race and creed and feeling. the first represents mr. froude's cure for ireland. he is a resolute 'englishman, with strong nonconformist tendencies,' who plants an industrial colony on the coast of kerry, and has deep-rooted objections to that illicit trade with france which in the last century was the sole method by which the irish people were enabled to pay their rents to their absentee landlords. colonel goring bitterly regrets that the penal laws against the catholics are not rigorously carried out. he is a '_police_ at any price' man. 'and this,' said goring scornfully, 'is what you call governing ireland, hanging up your law like a scarecrow in the garden till every sparrow has learnt to make a jest of it. your popery acts! well, you borrowed them from france. the french catholics did not choose to keep the hugonots among them, and recalled the edict of nantes. as they treated the hugonots, so you said to all the world that you would treat the papists. you borrowed from the french the very language of your statute, but they are not afraid to stand by their law, and you are afraid to stand by yours. you let the people laugh at it, and in teaching them to despise one law, you teach them to despise all laws--god's and man's alike. i cannot say how it will end; but i can tell you this, that you are training up a race with the education which you are giving them that will astonish mankind by and bye.' mr. froude's resume of the history of ireland is not without power though it is far from being really accurate. 'the irish,' he tells us, 'had disowned the facts of life, and the facts of life had proved the strongest.' the english, unable to tolerate anarchy so near their shores, 'consulted the pope. the pope gave them leave to interfere, and the pope had the best of the bargain. for the english brought him in, and the irish . . . kept him there.' england's first settlers were norman nobles. they became more irish than the irish, and england found herself in this difficulty: 'to abandon ireland would be discreditable, to rule it as a province would be contrary to english traditions.' she then 'tried to rule by dividing,' and failed. the pope was too strong for her. at last she made her great political discovery. what ireland wanted was evidently an entirely new population 'of the same race and the same religion as her own.' the new policy was partly carried out: elizabeth first and then james and then cromwell replanted the island, introducing english, scots, hugonots, flemings, dutch, tens of thousands of families of vigorous and earnest protestants, who brought their industries along with them. twice the irish . . . tried . . . to drive out this new element . . . they failed. . . . [but] england . . . had no sooner accomplished her long task than she set herself to work to spoil it again. she destroyed the industries of her colonists by her trade laws. she set the bishops to rob them of their religion. . . . [as for the gentry,] the purpose for which they had been introduced into ireland was unfulfilled. they were but alien intruders, who did nothing, who were allowed to do nothing. the time would come when an exasperated population would demand that the land should be given back to them, and england would then, perhaps, throw the gentry to the wolves, in the hope of a momentary peace. but her own turn would follow. she would be face to face with the old problem, either to make a new conquest or to retire with disgrace. political disquisitions of this kind, and prophecies after the event, are found all through mr. froude's book, and on almost every second page we come across aphorisms on the irish character, on the teachings of irish history and on the nature of england's mode of government. some of them represent mr. froude's own views, others are entirely dramatic and introduced for the purpose of characterisation. we append some specimens. as epigrams they are not very felicitous, but they are interesting from some points of view. irish society grew up in happy recklessness. insecurity added zest to enjoyment. we irish must either laugh or cry, and if we went in for crying, we should all hang ourselves. too close a union with the irish had produced degeneracy both of character and creed in all the settlements of english. we age quickly in ireland with the whiskey and the broken heads. the irish leaders cannot fight. they can make the country ungovernable, and keep an english army occupied in watching them. no nation can ever achieve a liberty that will not be a curse to them, except by arms in the field. [the irish] are taught from their cradles that english rule is the cause of all their miseries. they were as ill off under their own chiefs; but they would bear from their natural leaders what they will not bear from us, and if we have not made their lot more wretched we have not made it any better. 'patriotism? yes! patriotism of the hibernian order. the country has been badly treated, and is poor and miserable. this is the patriot's stock in trade. does he want it mended? not he. his own occupation would be gone.' irish corruption is the twin-brother of irish eloquence. england will not let us break the heads of our scoundrels; she will not break them herself; we are a free country, and must take the consequences. the functions of the anglo-irish government were to do what ought not to be done, and to leave undone what ought to be done. the irish race have always been noisy, useless and ineffectual. they have produced nothing, they have done nothing, which it is possible to admire. what they are, that they have always been, and the only hope for them is that their ridiculous irish nationality should be buried and forgotten. the irish are the best actors in the world. order is an exotic in ireland. it has been imported from england, but it will not grow. it suits neither soil, nor climate. if the english wanted order in ireland, they should have left none of us alive. when ruling powers are unjust, nature reasserts her rights. even anarchy has its advantages. nature keeps an accurate account. . . . the longer a bill is left unpaid, the heavier the accumulation of interest. you cannot live in ireland without breaking laws on one side or another. pecca fortiter, therefore, as . . . luther said. the animal spirits of the irish remained when all else was gone, and if there was no purpose in their lives, they could at least enjoy themselves. the irish peasants can make the country hot for the protestant gentleman, but that is all they are fit for. as we said before, if mr. froude intended his book to help the tory government to solve the irish question he has entirely missed his aim. the ireland of which he writes has disappeared. as a record, however, of the incapacity of a teutonic to rule a celtic people against their own wish, his book is not without value. it is dull, but dull books are very popular at present; and as people have grown a little tired of talking about robert elsmere, they will probably take to discussing the two chiefs of dunboy. there are some who will welcome with delight the idea of solving the irish question by doing away with the irish people. there are others who will remember that ireland has extended her boundaries, and that we have now to reckon with her not merely in the old world but in the new. the two chiefs of dunboy: or an irish romance of the last century. by j. a. froude. (longmans, green and co.) some literary notes--v (woman's world, may .) miss caroline fitz gerald's volume of poems, venetia victrix, is dedicated to mr. robert browning, and in the poem that gives its title to the book it is not difficult to see traces of mr. browning's influence. venetia victrix is a powerful psychological study of a man's soul, a vivid presentation of a terrible, fiery-coloured moment in a marred and incomplete life. it is sometimes complex and intricate in expression, but then the subject itself is intricate and complex. plastic simplicity of outline may render for us the visible aspect of life; it is different when we come to deal with those secrets which self-consciousness alone contains, and which self-consciousness itself can but half reveal. action takes place in the sunlight, but the soul works in the dark. there is something curiously interesting in the marked tendency of modern poetry to become obscure. many critics, writing with their eyes fixed on the masterpieces of past literature, have ascribed this tendency to wilfulness and to affectation. its origin is rather to be found in the complexity of the new problems, and in the fact that self-consciousness is not yet adequate to explain the contents of the ego. in mr. browning's poems, as in life itself which has suggested, or rather necessitated, the new method, thought seems to proceed not on logical lines, but on lines of passion. the unity of the individual is being expressed through its inconsistencies and its contradictions. in a strange twilight man is seeking for himself, and when he has found his own image, he cannot understand it. objective forms of art, such as sculpture and the drama, sufficed one for the perfect presentation of life; they can no longer so suffice. the central motive of miss caroline fitz gerald's psychological poem is the study of a man who to do a noble action wrecks his own soul, sells it to evil, and to the spirit of evil. many martyrs have for a great cause sacrificed their physical life; the sacrifice of the spiritual life has a more poignant and a more tragic note. the story is supposed to be told by a french doctor, sitting at his window in paris one evening: how far off venice seems to-night! how dim the still-remembered sunsets, with the rim of gold round the stone haloes, where they stand, those carven saints, and look towards the land, right westward, perched on high, with palm in hand, completing the peaked church-front. oh how clear and dark against the evening splendour! steer between the graveyard island and the quay, where north-winds dash the spray on venice;--see the rosy light behind dark dome and tower, or gaunt smoke-laden chimney;--mark the power of nature's gentleness, in rise or fall of interlinked beauty, to recall earth's majesty in desecration's place, lending yon grimy pile that dream-like face of evening beauty;--note yon rugged cloud, red-rimmed and heavy, drooping like a shroud over murano in the dying day. i see it now as then--so far away! the face of a boy in the street catches his eye. he seems to see in it some likeness to a dead friend. he begins to think, and at last remembers a hospital ward in venice: 'twas an april day, the year napoleon's troops took venice--say the twenty-fifth of april. all alone walking the ward, i heard a sick man moan, in tones so piteous, as his heart would break: 'lost, lost, and lost again--for venice' sake!' i turned. there lay a man no longer young, wasted with fever. i had marked, none hung about his bed, as friends, with tenderness, and, when the priest went by, he spared to bless, glancing perplexed--perhaps mere sullenness. i stopped and questioned: 'what is lost, my friend?' 'my soul is lost, and now draws near the end. my soul is surely lost. send me no priest! they sing and solemnise the marriage feast of man's salvation in the house of love, and i in hell, and god in heaven above, and venice safe and fair on earth between-- no love of mine--mere service--for my queen.' he was a seaman, and the tale he tells the doctor before he dies is strange and not a little terrible. wild rage against a foster-brother who had bitterly wronged him, and who was one of the ten rulers over venice, drives him to make a mad oath that on the day when he does anything for his country's good he will give his soul to satan. that night he sails for dalmatia, and as he is keeping the watch, he sees a phantom boat with seven fiends sailing to venice: i heard the fiends' shrill cry: 'for venice' good! rival thine ancient foe in gratitude, then come and make thy home with us in hell!' i knew it must be so. i knew the spell of satan on my soul. i felt the power granted by god to serve him one last hour, then fall for ever as the curse had wrought. i climbed aloft. my brain had grown one thought, one hope, one purpose. and i heard the hiss of raging disappointment, loth to miss its prey--i heard the lapping of the flame, that through the blanched figures went and came, darting in frenzy to the devils' yell. i set that cross on high, and cried: 'to hell my soul for ever, and my deed to god! once venice guarded safe, let this vile clod drift where fate will.' and then (the hideous laugh of fiends in full possession, keen to quaff the wine of one new soul not weak with tears, pealing like ruinous thunder in mine ears) i fell, and heard no more. the pale day broke through lazar-windows, when once more i woke, remembering i might no more dare to pray. the idea of the story is extremely powerful, and venetia victrix is certainly the best poem in the volume--better than ophelion, which is vague, and than a friar's story, which is pretty but ordinary. it shows that we have in miss fitz gerald a new singer of considerable ability and vigour of mind, and it serves to remind us of the splendid dramatic possibilities extant in life, which are ready for poetry, and unsuitable for the stage. what is really dramatic is not necessarily that which is fitting for presentation in a theatre. the theatre is an accident of the dramatic form. it is not essential to it. we have been deluded by the name of action. to think is to act. of the shorter poems collected here, this hymn to persephone is, perhaps, the best: oh, fill my cup, persephone, with dim red wine of spring, and drop therein a faded leaf plucked from the autumn's bearded sheaf, whence, dread one, i may quaff to thee, while all the woodlands ring. oh, fill my heart, persephone, with thine immortal pain, that lingers round the willow bowers in memories of old happy hours, when thou didst wander fair and free o'er enna's blooming plain. oh, fill my soul, persephone, with music all thine own! teach me some song thy childhood knew, lisped in the meadow's morning dew, or chant on this high windy lea, thy godhead's ceaseless moan. but this venetian song also has a good deal of charm: leaning between carved stone and stone, as glossy birds peer from a nest scooped in the crumbling trunk where rest their freckled eggs, i pause alone and linger in the light awhile, waiting for joy to come to me-- only the dawn beyond yon isle, only the sunlight on the sea. i gaze--then turn and ply my loom, or broider blossoms close beside; the morning world lies warm and wide, but here is dim, cool silent gloom, gold crust and crimson velvet pile, and not one face to smile on me-- only the dawn beyond yon isle, only the sunlight on the sea. over the world the splendours break of morning light and noontide glow, and when the broad red sun sinks low, and in the wave long shadows shake, youths, maidens, glad with song and wile, glide and are gone, and leave with me only the dawn beyond yon isle, only the sunlight on the sea. darwinism and politics, by mr. david ritchie, of jesus college, oxford, contains some very interesting speculations on the position and the future of women in the modern state. the one objection to the equality of the sexes that he considers deserves serious attention is that made by sir james stephen in his clever attack on john stuart mill. sir james stephen points out in liberty, equality, fraternity, that women may suffer more than they have done, if plunged into a nominally equal but really unequal contest in the already overcrowded labour market. mr. ritchie answers that, while the conclusion usually drawn from this argument is a sentimental reaction in favour of the old family ideal, as, for instance, in mr. besant's books, there is another alternative, and that is the resettling of the labour question. 'the elevation of the status of women and the regulation of the conditions of labour are ultimately,' he says, 'inseparable questions. on the basis of individualism, i cannot see how it is possible to answer the objections of sir james stephen.' mr. herbert spencer, in his sociology, expresses his fear that women, if admitted now to political life, might do mischief by introducing the ethics of the family into the state. 'under the ethics of the family the greatest benefits must be given where the merits are smallest; under the ethics of the state the benefits must be proportioned to the merits.' in answer to this, mr. ritchie asks whether in any society we have ever seen people so get benefits in proportion to their merits, and protests against mr. spencer's separation of the ethics of the family from those of the state. if something is right in a family, it is difficult to see why it is therefore, without any further reason, wrong in the state. if the participation of women in politics means that as a good family educates all its members, so must a good state, what better issue could there be? the family ideal of the state may be difficult of attainment, but as an ideal it is better than the policeman theory. it would mean the moralisation of politics. the cultivation of separate sorts of virtues and separate ideals of duty in men and women has led to the whole social fabric being weaker and unhealthier than it need be. as for the objection that in countries where it is considered necessary to have compulsory military service for all men, it would be unjust and inexpedient that women should have a voice in political matters, mr. ritchie meets it, or tries to meet it, by proposing that all women physically fitted for such purpose should be compelled to undergo training as nurses, and should be liable to be called upon to serve as nurses in time of war. this training, he remarks, 'would be more useful to them and to the community in time of peace than his military training is to the peasant or artisan.' mr. ritchie's little book is extremely suggestive, and full of valuable ideas for the philosophic student of sociology. * * * * * mr. alan cole's lecture on irish lace, delivered recently before the society of arts, contains some extremely useful suggestions as to the best method of securing an immediate connection between the art schools of a country and the country's ordinary manufactures. in , mr. cole was deputed by the department of science and art to lecture at cork and at limerick on the subject of lace-making, and to give a history of its rise and development in other countries, as well as a review of the many kinds of ornamental patterns used from the sixteenth century to modern times. in order to make these lectures of practical value, mr. cole placed typical specimens of irish laces beside italian, flemish, and french laces, which seem to be the prototypes of the lace of ireland. the public interest was immediately aroused. some of the newspapers stoutly maintained that the ornament and patterns of irish lace were of such a national character that it was wrong to asperse them on that score. others took a different view, and came to the conclusion that irish lace could be vastly improved in all respects, if some systematic action could be taken to induce the lace-makers to work from more intelligently composed patterns than those in general use. there was a consensus of opinion that the workmanship of irish laces was good, and that it could be applied to better materials than those ordinarily used, and that its methods were suited to render a greater variety of patterns than those usually attempted. these and other circumstances seem to have prompted the promoters of the cork exhibition to further efforts in the cause of lace-making. towards the close of the year they made fresh representations to government, and inquired what forms of state assistance could be given. a number of convents in the neighbourhood of cork was engaged in giving instruction to children under their care in lace and crochet making. at some, rooms were allotted for the use of grown-up workers who made laces under the supervision of the nuns. these convents obviously were centres where experiments in reform could be tried. the convents, however, lacked instruction in the designing of patterns for laces. an excellent school of art was at work at cork, but the students there had not been instructed in specially designing for lace. if the convents with their workrooms could be brought into relation with this school of art, it seemed possible that something of a serious character might be done to benefit lace-makers, and also to open up a new field in ornamental design for the students at the school of art. the rules of the department of science and art were found to be adapted to aid in meeting such wants as those sketched out by the promoters at cork. as the nuns in the different lace-making convents had not been able to attend in cork to hear mr. cole's lectures, they asked that he should visit them and repeat them at the convents. this mr. cole did early in , the masters of the local schools of art accompanying him on his visits. negotiations were forthwith opened for connecting the convents with the art schools. by the end of some six or seven different lace-making convents had placed themselves in connection with schools of art at cork and waterford. these convents were attended not only by the nuns but by outside pupils also; and, at the request of the convents, mr. cole has visited them twice a year, lecturing and giving advice upon designs for lace. the composition of new patterns for lace was attempted, and old patterns which had degenerated were revised and redrawn for the use of the workers connected with the convents. there are now twelve convents, mr. cole tells us, where instruction in drawing and in the composition of patterns is given, and some of the students have won some of the higher prizes offered by the department of science and art for designing lace- patterns. the cork school of art then acquired a collection of finely-patterned old laces, selections from which are freely circulated through the different convents connected with that school. they have also the privilege of borrowing similar specimens of old lace from the south kensington museum. so successful has been the system of education pursued by mr. brennan, the head-master of the cork school of art, that two female students of his school last year gained the gold and silver medals for their designs for laces and crochets at the national competition which annually takes place in london between all the schools of art in the united kingdom. as for the many lace-makers who were not connected either with the convents or with the art schools, in order to assist them, a committee of ladies and gentlemen interested in irish lace-making raised subscriptions, and offered prizes to be competed for by designers generally. the best designs were then placed out with lace-makers, and carried into execution. it is, of course, often said that the proper person to make the design is the lace-maker. mr. cole, however, points out that from the sixteenth century forward the patterns for ornamental laces have always been designed by decorative artists having knowledge of the composition of ornament, and of the materials for which they were called upon to design. lace pattern books were published in considerable quantity in italy, france and germany during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and from these the lace-makers worked. many lace- makers would, no doubt, derive benefit from practice in drawing, in discriminating between well and badly shaped forms. but the skill they are primarily required to show and to develop is one of fine fingers in reproducing beautiful forms in threads. the conception, arrangement, and drawing of beautiful forms for a design, have to be undertaken by decorative artists acquainted with the limitations of those materials and methods which the ultimate expression of the design involves. this lovely irish art of lace-making is very much indebted to mr. cole, who has really re-created it, given it new life, and shown it the true artistic lines on which to progress. hardly , pounds a year is spent by england upon irish laces, and almost all of this goes upon the cheaper and commoner kinds. and yet, as mr. cole points out, it is possible to produce irish laces of as high artistic quality as almost any foreign laces. the queen, lady londonderry, lady dorothy nevill, mrs. alfred morrison, and others, have done much to encourage the irish workers, and it rests largely with the ladies of england whether this beautiful art lives or dies. the real good of a piece of lace, says mr. ruskin, is 'that it should show, first, that the designer of it had a pretty fancy; next, that the maker of it had fine fingers; lastly, that the wearer of it has worthiness or dignity enough to obtain what is difficult to obtain, and common-sense enough not to wear it on all occasions.' * * * * * the high-caste hindu woman is an interesting book. it is from the pen of the pundita ramabai sarasvati, and the introduction is written by miss rachel bodley, m.d., the dean of the woman's medical college of pennsylvania. the story of the parentage of this learned lady is very curious. a certain hindu, being on a religious pilgrimage with his family, which consisted of his wife and two daughters, one nine and the other seven years of age, stopped in a town to rest for a day or two. one morning the hindu was bathing in the sacred river godavari, near the town, when he saw a fine-looking man coming there to bathe also. after the ablution and the morning prayers were over, the father inquired of the stranger who he was and whence he came. on learning his caste, and clan, and dwelling-place, and also that he was a widower, he offered him his little daughter of nine in marriage. all things were settled in an hour or so; next day the marriage was concluded, and the little girl placed in the possession of the stranger, who took her nearly nine hundred miles away from her home, and gave her into the charge of his mother. the stranger was the learned ananta shastri, a brahman pundit, who had very advanced views on the subject of woman's education, and he determined that he would teach his girl-wife sanskrit, and give her the intellectual culture that had been always denied to women in india. their daughter was the pundita ramabai, who, after the death of her parents, travelled all over india advocating the cause of female education, and to whom seems to be due the first suggestion for the establishment of the profession of women doctors. in , miss mary carpenter made a short tour in india for the purpose of finding out some way by which women's condition in that country might be improved. she at once discovered that the chief means by which the desired end could be accomplished was by furnishing women teachers for the hindu zenanas. she suggested that the british government should establish normal schools for training women teachers, and that scholarships should be awarded to girls in order to prolong their school-going period, and to assist indigent women who would otherwise be unable to pursue their studies. in response to miss carpenter's appeal, upon her return to england, the english government founded several schools for women in india, and a few 'mary carpenter scholarships' were endowed by benevolent persons. these schools were open to women of every caste; but while they have undoubtedly been of use, they have not realised the hopes of their founders, chiefly through the impossibility of keeping caste rules in them. ramabai, in a very eloquent chapter, proposes to solve the problem in a different way. her suggestion is that houses should be opened for the young and high-caste child-widows, where they can take shelter without the fear of losing their caste, or of being disturbed in their religious belief, and where they may have entire freedom of action as regards caste rules. the whole account given by the pundita of the life of the high-caste hindu lady is full of suggestion for the social reformer and the student of progress, and her book, which is wonderfully well written, is likely to produce a radical change in the educational schemes that at present prevail in india. ( ) venetia victrix. by caroline fitz gerald. (macmillan and co.) ( ) darwinism and politics. by david ritchie, jesus college, oxford. (swan sonnenschein and co.) ( ) the high-caste hindu woman. by the pandita ramabai sarasvati. (bell and sons.) ouida's new novel (pall mall gazette, may , .) ouida is the last of the romantics. she belongs to the school of bulwer lytton and george sand, though she may lack the learning of the one and the sincerity of the other. she tries to make passion, imagination, and poetry part of fiction. she still believes in heroes and in heroines. she is florid and fervent and fanciful. yet even she, the high priestess of the impossible, is affected by her age. her last book, guilderoy as she calls it, is an elaborate psychological study of modern temperaments. for her, it is realistic, and she has certainly caught much of the tone and temper of the society of our day. her people move with ease and grace and indolence. the book may be described as a study of the peerage from a poetical point of view. those who are tired of mediocre young curates who have doubts, of serious young ladies who have missions, and of the ordinary figureheads of most of the english fiction of our time, might turn with pleasure, if not with profit, to this amazing romance. it is a resplendent picture of our aristocracy. no expense has been spared in gilding. for the comparatively small sum of pound, s. d. one is introduced to the best society. the central figures are exaggerated, but the background is admirable. in spite of everything, it gives one a sense of something like life. what is the story? well, we must admit that we have a faint suspicion that ouida has told it to us before. lord guilderoy, 'whose name was as old as the days of knut,' falls madly in love, or fancies that he falls madly in love, with a rustic perdita, a provincial artemis who has 'a gainsborough face, with wide-opened questioning eyes and tumbled auburn hair.' she is poor but well-born, being the only child of mr. vernon of llanarth, a curious recluse, who is half a pedant and half don quixote. guilderoy marries her and, tiring of her shyness, her lack of power to express herself, her want of knowledge of fashionable life, returns to an old passion for a wonderful creature called the duchess of soria. lady guilderoy becomes ice; the duchess becomes fire; at the end of the book guilderoy is a pitiable object. he has to submit to be forgiven by one woman, and to endure to be forgotten by the other. he is thoroughly weak, thoroughly worthless, and the most fascinating person in the whole story. then there is his sister lady sunbury, who is very anxious for guilderoy to marry, and is quite determined to hate his wife. she is really a capital sketch. ouida describes her as 'one of those admirably virtuous women who are more likely to turn men away from the paths of virtue than the wickedest of sirens.' she irritates herself, alienates her children, and infuriates her husband: 'you are perfectly right; i know you are always right; i admit you are; but it is just that which makes you so damnably odious!' said lord sunbury once, in a burst of rage, in his town house, speaking in such stentorian tones that the people passing up grosvenor street looked up at his open windows, and a crossing-sweeper said to a match- seller, 'my eye! ain't he giving it to the old gal like blazes.' the noblest character in the book is lord aubrey. as he is not a genius he, naturally, behaves admirably on every occasion. he begins by pitying the neglected lady guilderoy, and ends by loving her, but he makes the great renunciation with considerable effect, and, having induced lady guilderoy to receive back her husband, he accepts 'a distant and arduous viceroyalty.' he is ouida's ideal of the true politician, for ouida has apparently taken to the study of english politics. a great deal of her book is devoted to political disquisitions. she believes that the proper rulers of a country like ours are the aristocrats. oligarchy has great fascinations for her. she thinks meanly of the people and adores the house of lords and lord salisbury. here are some of her views. we will not call them ideas: the house of lords wants nothing of the nation, and therefore it is the only candid and disinterested guardian of the people's needs and resources. it has never withstood the real desire of the country: it has only stood between the country and its impetuous and evanescent follies. a democracy cannot understand honour; how should it? the caucus is chiefly made up of men who sand their sugar, put alum in their bread, forge bayonets and girders which bend like willow-wands, send bad calico to india, and insure vessels at lloyd's which they know will go to the bottom before they have been ten days at sea. lord salisbury has often been accused of arrogance; people have never seen that what they mistook for arrogance was the natural, candid consciousness of a great noble that he is more capable of leading the country than most men composing it would be. democracy, after having made everything supremely hideous and uncomfortable for everybody, always ends by clinging to the coat tails of some successful general. the prosperous politician may be honest, but his honesty is at best a questionable quality. the moment that a thing is a metier, it is wholly absurd to talk about any disinterestedness in the pursuit of it. to the professional politician national affairs are a manufacture into which he puts his audacity and his time, and out of which he expects to make so much percentage for his lifetime. there is too great a tendency to govern the world by noise. ouida's aphorisms on women, love, and modern society are somewhat more characteristic: women speak as though the heart were to be treated at will like a stone, or a bath. half the passions of men die early, because they are expected to be eternal. it is the folly of life that lends charm to it. what is the cause of half the misery of women? that their love is so much more tenacious than the man's: it grows stronger as his grows weaker. to endure the country in england for long, one must have the rusticity of wordsworth's mind, and boots and stockings as homely. it is because men feel the necessity to explain that they drop into the habit of saying what is not true. wise is the woman who never insists on an explanation. love can make its own world in a solitude a deux, but marriage cannot. nominally monogamous, all cultured society is polygamous; often even polyandrous. moralists say that a soul should resist passion. they might as well say that a house should resist an earthquake. the whole world is just now on its knees before the poorer classes: all the cardinal virtues are taken for granted in them, and it is only property of any kind which is the sinner. men are not merciful to women's tears as a rule; and when it is a woman belonging to them who weeps, they only go out, and slam the door behind them. men always consider women unjust to them, when they fail to deify their weaknesses. no passion, once broken, will ever bear renewal. feeling loses its force and its delicacy if we put it under the microscope too often. anything which is not flattery seems injustice to a woman. when society is aware that you think it a flock of geese, it revenges itself by hissing loudly behind your back. of descriptions of scenery and art we have, of course, a large number, and it is impossible not to recognise the touch of the real ouida manner in the following: it was an old palace: lofty, spacious, magnificent, and dull. busts of dusky yellow marble, weird bronzes stretching out gaunt arms into the darkness, ivories brown with age, worn brocades with gold threads gleaming in them, and tapestries with strange and pallid figures of dead gods, were all half revealed and half obscured in the twilight. as he moved through them, a figure which looked almost as pale as the adonis of the tapestry and was erect and motionless like the statue of the wounded love, came before his sight out of the darkness. it was that of gladys. it is a manner full of exaggeration and overemphasis, but with some remarkable rhetorical qualities and a good deal of colour. ouida is fond of airing a smattering of culture, but she has a certain intrinsic insight into things and, though she is rarely true, she is never dull. guilderoy, with all its faults, which are great, and its absurdities, which are greater, is a book to be read. guilderoy. by ouida. (chatto and windus.) some literary notes--vi (woman's world, june .) a writer in the quarterly review for january says: no literary event since the war has excited anything like such a sensation in paris as the publication of the lettres a une inconnue. even politics became a secondary consideration for the hour, and academicians or deputies of opposite parties might be seen eagerly accosting each other in the chamber or the street to inquire who this fascinating and perplexing 'unknown' could be. the statement in the revue des deux mondes that she was an englishwoman, moving in brilliant society, was not supported by evidence; and m. blanchard, the painter, from whom the publisher received the manuscripts, died most provokingly at the very commencement of the inquiry, and made no sign. some intimate friends of merimee, rendered incredulous by wounded self-love at not having been admitted to his confidence, insisted that there was no secret to tell; their hypothesis being that the inconnue was a myth, and the letters a romance, with which some petty details of actual life had been interwoven to keep up the mystification. but an artist like merimee would not have left his work in so unformed a state, so defaced by repetitions, or with such a want of proportion between the parts. the inconnue was undoubtedly a real person, and her letters in answer to those of merimee have just been published by messrs. macmillan under the title of an author's love. her letters? well, they are such letters as she might have written. 'by the tideless sea at cannes on a summer day,' says their anonymous author, 'i had fallen asleep, and the plashing of the waves upon the shore had doubtless made me dream. when i awoke the yellow paper-covered volumes of prosper merimee's lettres a une inconnue lay beside me; i had been reading the book before i fell asleep, but the answers--had they ever been written, or had i only dreamed?' the invention of the love-letters of a curious and unknown personality, the heroine of one of the great literary flirtations of our age, was a clever idea, and certainly the author has carried out his scheme with wonderful success; with such success indeed that it is said that one of our statesmen, whose name occurs more than once in the volume, was for a moment completely taken in by what is really a jeu-d'esprit, the first serious joke perpetrated by messrs. macmillan in their publishing capacity. perhaps it is too much to call it a joke. it is a fine, delicate piece of fiction, an imaginative attempt to complete a real romance. as we had the letters of the academic romeo, it was obviously right that we should pretend we had the answers of the clever and somewhat mondaine juliet. or is it juliet herself, in her little paris boudoir, looking over these two volumes with a sad, cynical smile? well, to be put into fiction is always a tribute to one's reality. as for extracts from these fascinating forgeries, the letters should be read in conjunction with those of merimee himself. it is difficult to judge of them by samples. we find the inconnue first in london, probably in . little (she writes) can you imagine the storm of indignation you aroused in me by your remark that your feelings for me were those suitable for a fourteen-year-old niece. merci. anything less like a respectable uncle than yourself i cannot well imagine. the role would never suit you, believe me, so do not try it. now in return for your story of the phlegmatic musical animal who called forth such stormy devotion in a female breast, and who, himself cold and indifferent, was loved to the extent of a watery grave being sought by his inamorata as solace for his indifference, let _me_ ask the question why the women who torment men with their uncertain tempers, drive them wild with jealousy, laugh contemptuously at their humble entreaties, and fling their money to the winds, have twice the hold upon their affections that the patient, long-suffering, domestic, frugal griseldas have, whose existences are one long penance of unsuccessful efforts to please? answer this comprehensively, and you will have solved a riddle which has puzzled women since eve asked questions in paradise. later on she writes: why should all natures be alike? it would make the old saws useless if they were, and deprive us of one of the truest of them all, 'variety is the spice of life.' how terribly monotonous it would be if all the flowers were roses, every woman a queen, and each man a philosopher. my private opinion is that it takes at least six men such as one meets every day to make one really valuable one. i like so many men for one particular quality which they possess, and so few men for all. comprenez-vous? in another place: is it not a trifle dangerous, this experiment we are trying of a friendship in pen and ink and paper? a letter. what thing on earth more dangerous to confide in? written at blood heat, it may reach its destination when the recipient's mental thermometer counts zero, and the burning words and thrilling sentences may turn to ice and be congealed as they are read. . . . a letter; the most uncertain thing in a world of uncertainties, the best or the worst thing devised by mortals. again: surely it was for you, mon cher, that the description given of a friend of mine was originally intended. he is a trifle cynical, this friend, and decidedly pessimistic, and of him it was reported that he never believed in anything until he saw it, and then he was convinced that it was an optical illusion. the accuracy of the description struck me. they seem to have loved each other best when they were parted. i think i cannot bear it much longer, this incessant quarrelling when we meet, and your unkindness during the short time that you are with me. why not let it all end? it would be better for both of us. i do not love you less when i write these words; if you could know the sadness which they echo in my heart you would believe this. no, i think i love you more, but i cannot understand you. as you have often said, our natures must be very different, entirely different; if so, what is this curious bond between them? to me you seem possessed with some strange restlessness and morbid melancholy which utterly spoils your life, and in return you never see me without overwhelming me with reproaches, if not for one thing, for another. i tell you i cannot, will not, bear it longer. if you love me, then in god's name cease tormenting me as well as yourself with these wretched doubts and questionings and complaints. i have been ill, seriously ill, and there is nothing to account for my illness save the misery of this apparently hopeless state of things existing between us. you have made me weep bitter tears of alternate self-reproach and indignation, and finally of complete miserable bewilderment as to this unhappy condition of affairs. believe me, tears like these are not good to mingle with love, they are too bitter, too scorching, they blister love's wings and fall too heavily on love's heart. i feel worn out with a dreary sort of hopelessness; if you know a cure for pain like this send it to me quickly. yet, in the very next letter, she says to him: although i said good-bye to you less than an hour ago, i cannot refrain from writing to tell you that a happy calm which seems to penetrate my whole being seems also to have wiped out all remembrance of the misery and unhappiness which has overwhelmed me lately. why cannot it always be so, or would life perhaps be then too blessed, too wholly happy for it to be life? i know that you are free to-night, will you not write to me, that the first words my eyes fall upon to- morrow shall prove that to-day has not been a dream? yes, write to me. the letter that immediately follows is one of six words only: let me dream--let me dream. in the following there are interesting touches of actuality: did you ever try a cup of tea (the national beverage, by the way) at an english railway station? if you have not, i would advise you, as a friend, to continue to abstain! the names of the american drinks are rather against them, the straws are, i think, about the best part of them. you do not tell me what you think of mr. disraeli. i once met him at a ball at the duke of sutherland's in the long picture gallery of stafford house. i was walking with lord shrewsbury, and without a word of warning he stopped and introduced him, mentioning with reckless mendacity that i had read every book he had written and admired them all, then he coolly walked off and left me standing face to face with the great statesman. he talked to me for some time, and i studied him carefully. i should say he was a man with one steady aim: endless patience, untiring perseverance, iron concentration; marking out one straight line before him so unbending that despite themselves men stand aside as it is drawn straightly and steadily on. a man who believes that determination brings strength, strength brings endurance, and endurance brings success. you know how often in his novels he speaks of the influence of women, socially, morally, and politically, yet his manner was the least interested or deferential in talking that i have ever met with in a man of his class. he certainly thought this particular woman of singularly small account, or else the brusque and tactless allusion to his books may perhaps have annoyed him as it did me; but whatever the cause, when he promptly left me at the first approach of a mutual acquaintance, i felt distinctly snubbed. of the two men, mr. gladstone was infinitely more agreeable in his manner, he left one with the pleasant feeling of measuring a little higher in cubic inches than one did before, than which i know no more delightful sensation. a paris, bientot. elsewhere, we find cleverly-written descriptions of life in italy, in algiers, at hombourg, at french boarding-houses; stories about napoleon iii., guizot, prince gortschakoff, montalembert, and others; political speculations, literary criticisms, and witty social scandal; and everywhere a keen sense of humour, a wonderful power of observation. as reconstructed in these letters, the inconnue seems to have been not unlike merimee himself. she had the same restless, unyielding, independent character. each desired to analyse the other. each, being a critic, was better fitted for friendship than for love. 'we are so different,' said merimee once to her, 'that we can hardly understand each other.' but it was because they were so alike that each remained a mystery to the other. yet they ultimately attained to a high altitude of loyal and faithful friendship, and from a purely literary point of view these fictitious letters give the finishing touch to the strange romance that so stirred paris fifteen years ago. perhaps the real letters will be published some day. when they are, how interesting to compare them! the bird-bride, by graham r. tomson, is a collection of romantic ballads, delicate sonnets, and metrical studies in foreign fanciful forms. the poem that gives its title to the book is the lament of an eskimo hunter over the loss of his wife and children. years agone, on the flat white strand, i won my sweet sea-girl: wrapped in my coat of the snow-white fur, i watched the wild birds settle and stir, the grey gulls gather and whirl. one, the greatest of all the flock, perched on an ice-floe bare, called and cried as her heart were broke, and straight they were changed, that fleet bird-folk, to women young and fair. swift i sprang from my hiding-place and held the fairest fast; i held her fast, the sweet, strange thing: her comrades skirled, but they all took wing, and smote me as they passed. i bore her safe to my warm snow house; full sweetly there she smiled; and yet, whenever the shrill winds blew, she would beat her long white arms anew, and her eyes glanced quick and wild. but i took her to wife, and clothed her warm with skins of the gleaming seal; her wandering glances sank to rest when she held a babe to her fair, warm breast, and she loved me dear and leal. together we tracked the fox and the seal, and at her behest i swore that bird and beast my bow might slay for meat and for raiment, day by day, but never a grey gull more. famine comes upon the land, and the hunter, forgetting his oath, slays four sea-gulls for food. the bird-wife 'shrilled out in a woful cry,' and taking the plumage of the dead birds, she makes wings for her children and for herself, and flies away with them. 'babes of mine, of the wild wind's kin, feather ye quick, nor stay. oh, oho! but the wild winds blow! babes of mine, it is time to go: up, dear hearts, and away!' and lo! the grey plumes covered them all, shoulder and breast and brow. i felt the wind of their whirling flight: was it sea or sky? was it day or night? it is always night-time now. dear, will you never relent, come back? i loved you long and true. o winged white wife, and our children three, of the wild wind's kin though you surely be, are ye not of my kin too? ay, ye once were mine, and, till i forget, ye are mine forever and aye, mine, wherever your wild wings go, while shrill winds whistle across the snow and the skies are blear and grey. some powerful and strong ballads follow, many of which, such as the cruel priest, deid folks' ferry, and marchen, are in that curious combination of scotch and border dialect so much affected now by our modern poets. certainly dialect is dramatic. it is a vivid method of re-creating a past that never existed. it is something between 'a return to nature' and 'a return to the glossary.' it is so artificial that it is really naive. from the point of view of mere music, much may be said for it. wonderful diminutives lend new notes of tenderness to the song. there are possibilities of fresh rhymes, and in search for a fresh rhyme poets may be excused if they wander from the broad highroad of classical utterance into devious byways and less-trodden paths. sometimes one is tempted to look on dialect as expressing simply the pathos of provincialisms, but there is more in it than mere mispronunciations. with the revival of an antique form, often comes the revival of an antique spirit. through limitations that are sometimes uncouth, and always narrow, comes tragedy herself; and though she may stammer in her utterance, and deck herself in cast-off weeds and trammelling raiment, still we must hold ourselves in readiness to accept her, so rare are her visits to us now, so rare her presence in an age that demands a happy ending from every play, and that sees in the theatre merely a source of amusement. the form, too, of the ballad--how perfect it is in its dramatic unity! it is so perfect that we must forgive it its dialect, if it happens to speak in that strange tongue. then by cam' the bride's company wi' torches burning bright. 'tak' up, tak' up your bonny bride a' in the mirk midnight!' oh, wan, wan was the bridegroom's face and wan, wan was the bride, but clay-cauld was the young mess-priest that stood them twa beside! says, 'rax me out your hand, sir knight, and wed her wi' this ring'; and the deid bride's hand it was as cauld as ony earthly thing. the priest he touched that lady's hand, and never a word he said; the priest he touched that lady's hand, and his ain was wet and red. the priest he lifted his ain right hand, and the red blood dripped and fell. says, 'i loved ye, lady, and ye loved me; sae i took your life mysel'.' . . . . . oh! red, red was the dawn o' day, and tall was the gallows-tree: the southland lord to his ain has fled and the mess-priest's hangit hie! of the sonnets, this to herodotus is worth quoting: far-travelled coaster of the midland seas, what marvels did those curious eyes behold! winged snakes, and carven labyrinths of old; the emerald column raised to heracles; king perseus' shrine upon the chemmian leas; four-footed fishes, decked with gems and gold: but thou didst leave some secrets yet untold, and veiled the dread osirian mysteries. and now the golden asphodels among thy footsteps fare, and to the lordly dead thou tellest all the stories left unsaid of secret rites and runes forgotten long, of that dark folk who ate the lotus-bread and sang the melancholy linus-song. mrs. tomson has certainly a very refined sense of form. her verse, especially in the series entitled new words to old tunes, has grace and distinction. some of the shorter poems are, to use a phrase made classical by mr. pater, 'little carved ivories of speech.' she is one of our most artistic workers in poetry, and treats language as a fine material. ( ) an author's love: being the unpublished letters of prosper merimee's 'inconnue.' (macmillan and co.) ( ) the bird-bride: a volume of ballads and sonnets. by graham r. tomson. (longmans, green and co.) a thought-reader's novel (pall mall gazette, june , .) there is a great deal to be said in favour of reading a novel backwards. the last page is, as a rule, the most interesting, and when one begins with the catastrophe or the denoument one feels on pleasant terms of equality with the author. it is like going behind the scenes of a theatre. one is no longer taken in, and the hairbreadth escapes of the hero and the wild agonies of the heroine leave one absolutely unmoved. one knows the jealously-guarded secret, and one can afford to smile at the quite unnecessary anxiety that the puppets of fiction always consider it their duty to display. in the case of mr. stuart cumberland's novel, the vasty deep, as he calls it, the last page is certainly thrilling and makes us curious to know more about 'brown, the medium.' scene, a padded room in a mad-house in the united states. a gibbering lunatic discovered dashing wildly about the chamber as if in the act of chasing invisible forms. 'this is our worst case,' says a doctor opening the cell to one of the visitors in lunacy. 'he was a spirit medium and he is hourly haunted by the creations of his fancy. we have to carefully watch him, for he has developed suicidal tendencies.' the lunatic makes a dash at the retreating form of his visitors, and, as the door closes upon him, sinks with a yell upon the floor. a week later the lifeless body of brown, the medium, is found suspended from the gas bracket in his cell. how clearly one sees it all! how forcible and direct the style is! and what a thrilling touch of actuality the simple mention of the 'gas bracket' gives us! certainly the vasty deep is a book to be read. and we have read it; read it with great care. though it is largely autobiographical, it is none the less a work of fiction and, though some of us may think that there is very little use in exposing what is already exposed and revealing the secrets of polichinelle, no doubt there are many who will be interested to hear of the tricks and deceptions of crafty mediums, of their gauze masks, telescopic rods and invisible silk threads, and of the marvellous raps they can produce simply by displacing the peroneus longus muscle! the book opens with a description of the scene by the death-bed of alderman parkinson. dr. josiah brown, the eminent medium, is in attendance and tries to comfort the honest merchant by producing noises on the bedpost. mr. parkinson, however, being extremely anxious to revisit mrs. parkinson, in a materialised form after death, will not be satisfied till he has received from his wife a solemn promise that she will not marry again, such a marriage being, in his eyes, nothing more nor less than bigamy. having received an assurance to this effect from her, mr. parkinson dies, his soul, according to the medium, being escorted to the spheres by 'a band of white-robed spirits.' this is the prologue. the next chapter is entitled 'five years after.' violet parkinson, the alderman's only child, is in love with jack alston, who is 'poor, but clever.' mrs. parkinson, however, will not hear of any marriage till the deceased alderman has materialised himself and given his formal consent. a seance is held at which jack alston unmasks the medium and shows dr. josiah brown to be an impostor--a foolish act, on his part, as he is at once ordered to leave the house by the infuriated mrs. parkinson, whose faith in the doctor is not in the least shaken by the unfortunate exposure. the lovers are consequently parted. jack sails for newfoundland, is shipwrecked and carefully, somewhat too carefully, tended by 'la-ki-wa, or the star that shines,' a lovely indian maiden who belongs to the tribe of the micmacs. she is a fascinating creature who wears 'a necklace composed of thirteen nuggets of pure gold,' a blanket of english manufacture and trousers of tanned leather. in fact, as mr. stuart cumberland observes, she looks 'the embodiment of fresh dewy morn.' when jack, on recovering his senses, sees her, he naturally inquires who she is. she answers, in the simple utterance endeared to us by fenimore cooper, 'i am la-ki-wa. i am the only child of my father, tall pine, chief of the dildoos.' she talks, mr. cumberland informs us, very good english. jack at once entrusts her with the following telegram which he writes on the back of a five-pound note:-- miss violet parkinson, hotel kronprinz, franzensbad, austria.--safe. jack. but la-ki-wa, we regret to say, says to herself, 'he belongs to tall pine, to the dildoos, and to me,' and never sends the telegram. subsequently, la-ki-wa proposes to jack who promptly rejects her and, with the usual callousness of men, offers her a brother's love. la-ki-wa, naturally, regrets the premature disclosure of her passion and weeps. 'my brother,' she remarks, 'will think that i have the timid heart of a deer with the crying voice of a papoose. i, the daughter of tall pine--i a micmac, to show the grief that is in my heart. o, my brother, i am ashamed.' jack comforts her with the hollow sophistries of a civilised being and gives her his photograph. as he is on his way to the steamer he receives from big deer a soiled piece of a biscuit bag. on it is written la-ki-wa's confession of her disgraceful behaviour about the telegram. 'his thoughts,' mr. cumberland tells us, 'were bitter towards la-ki-wa, but they gradually softened when he remembered what he owed her.' everything ends happily. jack arrives in england just in time to prevent dr. josiah brown from mesmerising violet whom the cunning doctor is anxious to marry, and he hurls his rival out of the window. the victim is discovered 'bruised and bleeding among the broken flower-pots' by a comic policeman. mrs. parkinson still believes in spiritualism, but refuses to have anything to do with brown as she discovers that the deceased alderman's 'materialised beard' was made only of 'horrid, coarse horsehair.' jack and violet are married at last and jack is horrid enough to send to 'la-ki-wa' another photograph. the end of dr. brown is chronicled above. had we not known what was in store for him we should hardly have got through the book. there is a great deal too much padding in it about dr. slade and dr. bartram and other mediums, and the disquisitions on the commercial future of newfoundland seem endless and are intolerable. however, there are many publics, and mr. stuart cumberland is always sure of an audience. his chief fault is a tendency to low comedy; but some people like low comedy in fiction. the vasty deep: a strange story of to-day. by stuart cumberland. (sampson low and co.) the poets' corner--x (pall mall gazette, june , .) is mr. alfred austin among the socialists? has somebody converted the respectable editor of the respectable national review? has even dulness become revolutionary? from a poem in mr. austin's last volume this would seem to be the case. it is perhaps unfair to take our rhymers too seriously. between the casual fancies of a poet and the callous facts of prose there is, or at least there should be, a wide difference. but since the poem in question, two visions, as mr. austin calls it, was begun in and revised in we may regard it as fully representative of mr. austin's mature views. he gives us, at any rate, in its somewhat lumbering and pedestrian verses, his conception of the perfect state: fearless, unveiled, and unattended strolled maidens to and fro: youths looked respect, but never bended obsequiously low. and each with other, sans condition, held parley brief or long, without provoking _coarse suspicion of marriage_, or of wrong. all were well clad, and none were better, and gems beheld i none, save where there hung a jewelled fetter, symbolic, in the sun. i saw a noble-looking maiden close dante's solemn book, and go, with crate of linen laden and wash it in the brook. anon, a broad-browed _poet, dragging a load of logs along_, to warm his hearth, withal not flagging in current of his song. each one some handicraft attempted or helped to till the soil: none but the aged were exempted from communistic toil. such an expression as 'coarse suspicion of marriage' is not very fortunate; the log-rolling poet of the fifth stanza is an ideal that we have already realised and one in which we had but little comfort, and the fourth stanza leaves us in doubt whether mr. austin means that washerwomen are to take to reading dante, or that students of italian literature are to wash their own clothes. but, on the whole, though mr. austin's vision of the citta divina of the future is not very inspiriting, it is certainly extremely interesting as a sign of the times, and it is evident from the two concluding lines of the following stanzas that there will be no danger of the intellect being overworked: age lorded not, nor rose the hectic up to the cheek of youth; but reigned throughout their dialectic sobriety of truth. and if a long-held contest tended to ill-defined result, _it was by calm consent suspended as over-difficult_. mr. austin, however, has other moods, and, perhaps, he is at his best when he is writing about flowers. occasionally he wearies the reader by tedious enumerations of plants, lacking indeed reticence and tact and selection in many of his descriptions, but, as a rule, he is very pleasant when he is babbling of green fields. how pretty these stanzas from the dedication are! when vines, just newly burgeoned, link their hands to join the dance of spring, green lizards glisten from cleft and chink, and almond blossoms rosy pink cluster and perch, ere taking wing; where over strips of emerald wheat glimmer red peach and snowy pear, and nightingales all day long repeat their love-song, not less glad than sweet they chant in sorrow and gloom elsewhere; where purple iris-banners scale defending walls and crumbling ledge, and virgin windflowers, lithe and frail, now mantling red, now trembling pale, peep out from furrow and hide in hedge. some of the sonnets also (notably, one entitled when acorns fall) are very charming, and though, as a whole, love's widowhood is tedious and prolix, still it contains some very felicitous touches. we wish, however, that mr. austin would not write such lines as pippins of every sort, and _codlins manifold_. 'codlins manifold' is a monstrous expression. mr. w. j. linton's fame as a wood-engraver has somewhat obscured the merits of his poetry. his claribel and other poems, published in , is now a scarce book, and far more scarce is the collection of lyrics which he printed in at his own press and brought out under the title of love-lore. the large and handsome volume that now lies before us contains nearly all these later poems as well as a selection from claribel and many renderings, in the original metre, of french poems ranging from the thirteenth century to our own day. a portrait of mr. linton is prefixed, and the book is dedicated 'to william bell scott, my friend for nearly fifty years.' as a poet mr. linton is always fanciful with a studied fancifulness, and often felicitous with a chance felicity. he is fascinated by our seventeenth-century singers, and has, here and there, succeeded in catching something of their quaintness and not a little of their charm. there is a pleasant flavour about his verse. it is entirely free from violence and from vagueness, those two besetting sins of so much modern poetry. it is clear in outline and restrained in form, and, at its best, has much that is light and lovely about it. how graceful, for instance, this is! bare feet o fair white feet! o dawn-white feet of her my hope may claim! bare-footed through the dew she came her love to meet. star-glancing feet, the windflowers sweet might envy, without shame, as through the grass they lightly came, her love to meet. o maiden sweet, with flower-kiss'd feet! my heart your footstool name! bare-footed through the dew she came, her love to meet. 'vindicate gemma!' was longfellow's advice to miss heloise durant when she proposed to write a play about dante. longfellow, it may be remarked, was always on the side of domesticity. it was the secret of his popularity. we cannot say, however, that miss durant has made us like gemma better. she is not exactly the xantippe whom boccaccio describes, but she is very boring, for all that: gemma. the more thou meditat'st, more mad art thou. clowns, with their love, can cheer poor wives' hearts more o'er black bread and goat's cheese than thou canst mine o'er red vernaccia, spite of all thy learning! care i how tortured spirits feel in hell? dante. thou tortur'st mine. gemma. or how souls sing in heaven? dante. would i were there. gemma. all folly, naught but folly. dante. thou canst not understand the mandates given to poets by their goddess poesy. . . . gemma. canst ne'er speak prose? why daily clothe thy thoughts in strangest garb, as if thy wits played fool at masquerade, where no man knows a maid from matron? fie on poets' mutterings! dante (to himself). if, then, the soul absorbed at last to whole-- gemma. fie! fie! i say. art thou bewitched? dante. o! peace. gemma. dost thou deem me deaf and dumb? dante. o! that thou wert. dante is certainly rude, but gemma is dreadful. the play is well meant but it is lumbering and heavy, and the blank verse has absolutely no merit. father o'flynn and other irish lyrics, by mr. a. p. graves, is a collection of poems in the style of lover. most of them are written in dialect, and, for the benefit of english readers, notes are appended in which the uninitiated are informed that 'brogue' means a boot, that 'mavourneen' means my dear, and that 'astore' is a term of affection. here is a specimen of mr. graves's work: 'have you e'er a new song, my limerick poet, to help us along wid this terrible boat, away over to tork?' 'arrah i understand; for all of your work, 'twill tighten you, boys, to cargo that sand to the overside strand, wid the current so strong unless you've a song-- a song to lighten and brighten you, boys. . . . ' it is a very dreary production and does not 'lighten and brighten' us a bit. the whole volume should be called the lucubrations of a stage irishman. the anonymous author of the judgment of the city is a sort of bad blake. so at least his prelude seems to suggest: time, the old viol-player, for ever thrills his ancient strings with the flying bow of fate, and thence much discord, but some music, brings. his ancient strings are truth, love, hate, hope, fear; and his choicest melody is the song of the faithful seer. as he progresses, however, he develops into a kind of inferior clough and writes heavy hexameters upon modern subjects: here for a moment stands in the light at the door of a playhouse, one who is dignified, masterly, hard in the pride of his station; here too, the stateliest of matrons, sour in the pride of her station; with them their daughter, sad-faced and listless, half-crushed to their likeness. he has every form of sincerity except the sincerity of the artist, a defect that he shares with most of our popular writers. ( ) love's widowhood and other poems. by alfred austin. (macmillan and co.) ( ) poems and translations. by w. j. linton. (nimmo.) ( ) dante: a dramatic poem. by heloise durant. (kegan paul.) ( ) father o'flynn and other irish lyrics. by a. p. graves. (swan sonnenschein and co.) ( ) the judgment of the city and other poems. (swan sonnenschein and co.) mr. swinburne's last volume (pall mall gazette, june , .) mr. swinburne once set his age on fire by a volume of very perfect and very poisonous poetry. then he became revolutionary and pantheistic, and cried out against those that sit in high places both in heaven and on earth. then he invented marie stuart and laid upon us the heavy burden of bothwell. then he retired to the nursery and wrote poems about children of a somewhat over-subtle character. he is now extremely patriotic, and manages to combine with his patriotism a strong affection for the tory party. he has always been a great poet. but he has his limitations, the chief of which is, curiously enough, the entire lack of any sense of limit. his song is nearly always too loud for his subject. his magnificent rhetoric, nowhere more magnificent than in the volume that now lies before us, conceals rather than reveals. it has been said of him, and with truth, that he is a master of language, but with still greater truth it may be said that language is his master. words seem to dominate him. alliteration tyrannises over him. mere sound often becomes his lord. he is so eloquent that whatever he touches becomes unreal. let us turn to the poem on the armada: the wings of the south-west wind are widened; the breath of his fervent lips, more keen than a sword's edge, fiercer than fire, falls full on the plunging ships. the pilot is he of the northward flight, their stay and their steersman he; a helmsman clothed with the tempest, and girdled with strength to constrain the sea. and the host of them trembles and quails, caught fast in his hand as a bird in the toils; for the wrath and the joy that fulfil him are mightier than man's, whom he slays and spoils. and vainly, with heart divided in sunder, and labour of wavering will, the lord of their host takes counsel with hope if haply their star shine still. somehow we seem to have heard all this before. does it come from the fact that of all the poets who ever lived mr. swinburne is the one who is the most limited in imagery? it must be admitted that he is so. he has wearied us with his monotony. 'fire' and the 'sea' are the two words ever on his lips. we must confess also that this shrill singing--marvellous as it is--leaves us out of breath. here is a passage from a poem called a word with the wind: be the sunshine bared or veiled, the sky superb or shrouded, still the waters, lax and languid, chafed and foiled, keen and thwarted, pale and patient, clothed with fire or clouded, vex their heart in vain, or sleep like serpents coiled. thee they look for, blind and baffled, wan with wrath and weary, blown for ever back by winds that rock the bird: winds that seamews breast subdue the sea, and bid the dreary waves be weak as hearts made sick with hope deferred. let the clarion sound from westward, let the south bear token how the glories of thy godhead sound and shine: bid the land rejoice to see the land-wind's broad wings broken, bid the sea take comfort, bid the world be thine. verse of this kind may be justly praised for the sustained strength and vigour of its metrical scheme. its purely technical excellence is extraordinary. but is it more than an oratorical tour de force? does it really convey much? does it charm? could we return to it again and again with renewed pleasure? we think not. it seems to us empty. of course, we must not look to these poems for any revelation of human life. to be at one with the elements seems to be mr. swinburne's aim. he seeks to speak with the breath of wind and wave. the roar of the fire is ever in his ears. he puts his clarion to the lips of spring and bids her blow, and the earth wakes from her dreams and tells him her secret. he is the first lyric poet who has tried to make an absolute surrender of his own personality, and he has succeeded. we hear the song, but we never know the singer. we never even get near to him. out of the thunder and splendour of words he himself says nothing. we have often had man's interpretation of nature; now we have nature's interpretation of man, and she has curiously little to say. force and freedom form her vague message. she deafens us with her clangours. but mr. swinburne is not always riding the whirlwind and calling out of the depths of the sea. romantic ballads in border dialect have not lost their fascination for him, and this last volume contains some very splendid examples of this curious artificial kind of poetry. the amount of pleasure one gets out of dialect is a matter entirely of temperament. to say 'mither' instead of 'mother' seems to many the acme of romance. there are others who are not quite so ready to believe in the pathos of provincialisms. there is, however, no doubt of mr. swinburne's mastery over the form, whether the form be quite legitimate or not. the weary wedding has the concentration and colour of a great drama, and the quaintness of its style lends it something of the power of a grotesque. the ballad of the witch-mother, a mediaeval medea who slays her children because her lord is faithless, is worth reading on account of its horrible simplicity. the bride's tragedy, with its strange refrain of in, in, out and in, blaws the wind and whirls the whin: the jacobite's exile-- o lordly flow the loire and seine, and loud the dark durance: but bonnier shine the braes of tyne than a' the fields of france; and the waves of till that speak sae still gleam goodlier where they glance: the tyneside widow and a reiver's neck-verse are all poems of fine imaginative power, and some of them are terrible in their fierce intensity of passion. there is no danger of english poetry narrowing itself to a form so limited as the romantic ballad in dialect. it is of too vital a growth for that. so we may welcome mr. swinburne's masterly experiments with the hope that things which are inimitable will not be imitated. the collection is completed by a few poems on children, some sonnets, a threnody on john william inchbold, and a lovely lyric entitled the interpreters. in human thought have all things habitation; our days laugh, lower, and lighten past, and find no station that stays. but thought and faith are mightier things than time can wrong, made splendid once by speech, or made sublime by song. remembrance, though the tide of change that rolls wax hoary, gives earth and heaven, for song's sake and the soul's, their glory. certainly, 'for song's sake' we should love mr. swinburne's work, cannot, indeed, help loving it, so marvellous a music-maker is he. but what of the soul? for the soul we must go elsewhere. poems and ballads. third series. by algernon charles swinburne. (chatto and windus.) three new poets (pall mall gazette, july , .) books of poetry by young writers are usually promissory notes that are never met. now and then, however, one comes across a volume that is so far above the average that one can hardly resist the fascinating temptation of recklessly prophesying a fine future for its author. such a book mr. yeats's wanderings of oisin certainly is. here we find nobility of treatment and nobility of subject-matter, delicacy of poetic instinct and richness of imaginative resource. unequal and uneven much of the work must be admitted to be. mr. yeats does not try to 'out-baby' wordsworth, we are glad to say; but he occasionally succeeds in 'out-glittering' keats, and, here and there, in his book we come across strange crudities and irritating conceits. but when he is at his best he is very good. if he has not the grand simplicity of epic treatment, he has at least something of the largeness of vision that belongs to the epical temper. he does not rob of their stature the great heroes of celtic mythology. he is very naive and very primitive and speaks of his giants with the air of a child. here is a characteristic passage from the account of oisin's return from the island of forgetfulness: and i rode by the plains of the sea's edge, where all is barren and grey, grey sands on the green of the grasses and over the dripping trees, dripping and doubling landward, as though they would hasten away like an army of old men longing for rest from the moan of the seas. long fled the foam-flakes around me, the winds fled out of the vast, snatching the bird in secret, nor knew i, embosomed apart, when they froze the cloth on my body like armour riveted fast, for remembrance, lifting her leanness, keened in the gates of my heart. till fattening the winds of the morning, an odour of new-mown hay came, and my forehead fell low, and my tears like berries fell down; later a sound came, half lost in the sound of a shore far away, from the great grass-barnacle calling, and later the shore-winds brown. if i were as i once was, the gold hooves crushing the sand and the shells, coming forth from the sea like the morning with red lips murmuring a song, not coughing, my head on my knees, and praying, and wroth with the bells, i would leave no saint's head on his body, though spacious his lands were and strong. making way from the kindling surges, i rode on a bridle-path, much wondering to see upon all hands, of wattle and woodwork made, thy bell-mounted churches, and guardless the sacred cairn and the earth, and a small and feeble populace stooping with mattock and spade. in one or two places the music is faulty, the construction is sometimes too involved, and the word 'populace' in the last line is rather infelicitous; but, when all is said, it is impossible not to feel in these stanzas the presence of the true poetic spirit. a young lady who seeks for a 'song surpassing sense,' and tries to reproduce mr. browning's mode of verse for our edification, may seem to be in a somewhat parlous state. but miss caroline fitz gerald's work is better than her aim. venetia victrix is in many respects a fine poem. it shows vigour, intellectual strength, and courage. the story is a strange one. a certain venetian, hating one of the ten who had wronged him and identifying his enemy with venice herself, abandons his native city and makes a vow that, rather than lift a hand for her good, he will give his soul to hell. as he is sailing down the adriatic at night, his ship is suddenly becalmed and he sees a huge galley where sate like counsellors on high, exempt, elate, the fiends triumphant in their fiery state, on their way to venice. he has to choose between his own ruin and the ruin of his city. after a struggle, he determines to sacrifice himself to his rash oath. i climbed aloft. my brain had grown one thought, one hope, one purpose. and i heard the hiss of raging disappointment, loth to miss its prey--i heard the lapping of the flame, that through the blenched figures went and came, darting in frenzy to the devils' yell. i set that cross on high, and cried: 'to hell my soul for ever, and my deed to god! once venice guarded safe, let this vile clod drift where fate will!' and then (the hideous laugh of fiends in full possession, keen to quaff the wine of one new soul not weak with tears, pealing like ruinous thunder in mine ears) i fell, and heard no more. the pale day broke through lazar-windows, when once more i woke, remembering i might no more dare to pray. venetia victrix is followed by ophelion, a curious lyrical play whose dramatis personae consist of night, death, dawn and a scholar. it is intricate rather than musical, but some of the songs are graceful--notably one beginning lady of heaven most pure and holy, artemis, fleet as the flying deer, glide through the dusk like a silver shadow, mirror thy brow in the lonely mere. miss fitz gerald's volume is certainly worth reading. mr. richard le gallienne's little book, volumes in folio as he quaintly calls it, is full of dainty verse and delicate fancy. lines such as and lo! the white face of the dawn yearned like a ghost's against the pane, a sobbing ghost amid the rain; or like a chill and pallid rose slowly upclimbing from the lawn, strike, with their fantastic choice of metaphors, a pleasing note. at present mr. le gallienne's muse seems to devote herself entirely to the worship of books, and mr. le gallienne himself is steeped in literary traditions, making keats his model and seeking to reproduce something of keats's richness and affluence of imagery. he is keenly conscious how derivative his inspiration is: verse of my own! why ask so poor a thing, when i might gather from the garden-ways of sunny memory fragrant offering of deathless blooms and white unwithering sprays? shakspeare had given me an english rose, and honeysuckle spenser sweet as dew, or i had brought you from that dreamy close keats' passion-blossom, or the mystic blue star-flower of shelley's song, or shaken gold from lilies of the blessed damosel, or stolen fire from out the scarlet fold of swinburne's poppies. . . . yet now that he has played his prelude with so sensitive and so graceful a touch, we have no doubt that he will pass to larger themes and nobler subject-matter, and fulfil the hope he expresses in this sextet: for if perchance some music should be mine, i would fling forth its notes like a fierce sea, to wash away the piles of tyranny, to make love free and faith unbound of creed. o for some power to fill my shrunken line, and make a trumpet of my oaten reed. ( ) the wanderings of oisin and other poems. by w. b. yeats. (kegan paul.) ( ) venetia victrix. by caroline fitz gerald. (macmillan and co.) ( ) volumes in folio. by richard le gallienne. (elkin mathews.) a chinese sage (speaker, february , .) a eminent oxford theologian once remarked that his only objection to modern progress was that it progressed forward instead of backward--a view that so fascinated a certain artistic undergraduate that he promptly wrote an essay upon some unnoticed analogies between the development of ideas and the movements of the common sea-crab. i feel sure the speaker will not be suspected even by its most enthusiastic friends of holding this dangerous heresy of retrogression. but i must candidly admit that i have come to the conclusion that the most caustic criticism of modern life i have met with for some time is that contained in the writings of the learned chuang tzu, recently translated into the vulgar tongue by mr. herbert giles, her majesty's consul at tamsui. the spread of popular education has no doubt made the name of this great thinker quite familiar to the general public, but, for the sake of the few and the over-cultured, i feel it my duty to state definitely who he was, and to give a brief outline of the character of his philosophy. chuang tzu, whose name must carefully be pronounced as it is not written, was born in the fourth century before christ, by the banks of the yellow river, in the flowery land; and portraits of the wonderful sage seated on the flying dragon of contemplation may still be found on the simple tea- trays and pleasing screens of many of our most respectable suburban households. the honest ratepayer and his healthy family have no doubt often mocked at the dome-like forehead of the philosopher, and laughed over the strange perspective of the landscape that lies beneath him. if they really knew who he was, they would tremble. for chuang tzu spent his life in preaching the great creed of inaction, and in pointing out the uselessness of all useful things. 'do nothing, and everything will be done,' was the doctrine which he inherited from his great master lao tzu. to resolve action into thought, and thought into abstraction, was his wicked transcendental aim. like the obscure philosopher of early greek speculation, he believed in the identity of contraries; like plato, he was an idealist, and had all the idealist's contempt for utilitarian systems; he was a mystic like dionysius, and scotus erigena, and jacob bohme, and held, with them and with philo, that the object of life was to get rid of self-consciousness, and to become the unconscious vehicle of a higher illumination. in fact, chuang tzu may be said to have summed up in himself almost every mood of european metaphysical or mystical thought, from heraclitus down to hegel. there was something in him of the quietist also; and in his worship of nothing he may be said to have in some measure anticipated those strange dreamers of mediaeval days who, like tauler and master eckhart, adored the purum nihil and the abyss. the great middle classes of this country, to whom, as we all know, our prosperity, if not our civilisation, is entirely due, may shrug their shoulders over all this and ask, with a certain amount of reason, what is the identity of contraries to them, and why they should get rid of that self-consciousness which is their chief characteristic. but chuang tzu was something more than a metaphysician and an illuminist. he sought to destroy society, as we know it, as the middle classes know it; and the sad thing is that he combines with the passionate eloquence of a rousseau the scientific reasoning of a herbert spencer. there is nothing of the sentimentalist in him. he pities the rich more than the poor, if he ever pities at all, and prosperity seems to him as tragic a thing as suffering. he has nothing of the modern sympathy with failures, nor does he propose that the prizes should always be given on moral grounds to those who come in last in the race. it is the race itself that he objects to; and as for active sympathy, which has become the profession of so many worthy people in our own day, he thinks that trying to make others good is as silly an occupation as 'beating a drum in a forest in order to find a fugitive.' it is a mere waste of energy. that is all. while, as for a thoroughly sympathetic man, he is, in the eyes of chuang tzu, simply a man who is always trying to be somebody else, and so misses the only possible excuse for his own existence. yes; incredible as it may seem, this curious thinker looked back with a sigh of regret to a certain golden age when there were no competitive examinations, no wearisome educational systems, no missionaries, no penny dinners for the people, no established churches, no humanitarian societies, no dull lectures about one's duty to one's neighbour, and no tedious sermons about any subject at all. in those ideal days, he tells us, people loved each other without being conscious of charity, or writing to the newspapers about it. they were upright, and yet they never published books upon altruism. as every man kept his knowledge to himself, the world escaped the curse of scepticism; and as every man kept his virtues to himself, nobody meddled in other people's business. they lived simple and peaceful lives, and were contented with such food and raiment as they could get. neighbouring districts were in sight, and 'the cocks and dogs of one could be heard in the other,' yet the people grew old and died without ever interchanging visits. there was no chattering about clever men, and no laudation of good men. the intolerable sense of obligation was unknown. the deeds of humanity left no trace, and their affairs were not made a burden for posterity by foolish historians. in an evil moment the philanthropist made his appearance, and brought with him the mischievous idea of government. 'there is such a thing,' says chuang tzu, 'as leaving mankind alone: there has never been such a thing as governing mankind.' all modes of government are wrong. they are unscientific, because they seek to alter the natural environment of man; they are immoral because, by interfering with the individual, they produce the most aggressive forms of egotism; they are ignorant, because they try to spread education; they are self-destructive, because they engender anarchy. 'of old,' he tells us, 'the yellow emperor first caused charity and duty to one's neighbour to interfere with the natural goodness of the heart of man. in consequence of this, yao and shun wore the hair off their legs in endeavouring to feed their people. they disturbed their internal economy in order to find room for artificial virtues. they exhausted their energies in framing laws, and they were failures.' man's heart, our philosopher goes on to say, may be 'forced down or stirred up,' and in either case the issue is fatal. yao made the people too happy, so they were not satisfied. chieh made them too wretched, so they grew discontented. then every one began to argue about the best way of tinkering up society. 'it is quite clear that something must be done,' they said to each other, and there was a general rush for knowledge. the results were so dreadful that the government of the day had to bring in coercion, and as a consequence of this 'virtuous men sought refuge in mountain caves, while rulers of state sat trembling in ancestral halls.' then, when everything was in a state of perfect chaos, the social reformers got up on platforms, and preached salvation from the ills that they and their system had caused. the poor social reformers! 'they know not shame, nor what it is to blush,' is the verdict of chuang tzuu upon them. the economic question, also, is discussed by this almond-eyed sage at great length, and he writes about the curse of capital as eloquently as mr. hyndman. the accumulation of wealth is to him the origin of evil. it makes the strong violent, and the weak dishonest. it creates the petty thief, and puts him in a bamboo cage. it creates the big thief, and sets him on a throne of white jade. it is the father of competition, and competition is the waste, as well as the destruction, of energy. the order of nature is rest, repetition, and peace. weariness and war are the results of an artificial society based upon capital; and the richer this society gets, the more thoroughly bankrupt it really is, for it has neither sufficient rewards for the good nor sufficient punishments for the wicked. there is also this to be remembered--that the prizes of the world degrade a man as much as the world's punishments. the age is rotten with its worship of success. as for education, true wisdom can neither be learnt nor taught. it is a spiritual state, to which he who lives in harmony with nature attains. knowledge is shallow if we compare it with the extent of the unknown, and only the unknowable is of value. society produces rogues, and education makes one rogue cleverer than another. that is the only result of school boards. besides, of what possible philosophic importance can education be, when it serves simply to make each man differ from his neighbour? we arrive ultimately at a chaos of opinions, doubt everything, and fall into the vulgar habit of arguing; and it is only the intellectually lost who ever argue. look at hui tzu. 'he was a man of many ideas. his works would fill five carts. but his doctrines were paradoxical.' he said that there were feathers in an egg, because there were feathers on a chicken; that a dog could be a sheep, because all names were arbitrary; that there was a moment when a swiftly-flying arrow was neither moving nor at rest; that if you took a stick a foot long, and cut it in half every day, you would never come to the end of it; and that a bay horse and a dun cow were three, because taken separately they were two, and taken together they were one, and one and two made up three. 'he was like a man running a race with his own shadow, and making a noise in order to drown the echo. he was a clever gadfly, that was all. what was the use of him?' morality is, of course, a different thing. it went out of fashion, says chuang tzu, when people began to moralise. men ceased then to be spontaneous and to act on intuition. they became priggish and artificial, and were so blind as to have a definite purpose in life. then came governments and philanthropists, those two pests of the age. the former tried to coerce people into being good, and so destroyed the natural goodness of man. the latter were a set of aggressive busybodies who caused confusion wherever they went. they were stupid enough to have principles, and unfortunate enough to act up to them. they all came to bad ends, and showed that universal altruism is as bad in its results as universal egotism. they 'tripped people up over charity, and fettered them with duties to their neighbours.' they gushed over music, and fussed over ceremonies. as a consequence of all this, the world lost its equilibrium, and has been staggering ever since. who, then, according to chuang tzu, is the perfect man? and what is his manner of life? the perfect man does nothing beyond gazing at the universe. he adopts no absolute position. 'in motion, he is like water. at rest, he is like a mirror. and, like echo, he answers only when he is called upon.' he lets externals take care of themselves. nothing material injures him; nothing spiritual punishes him. his mental equilibrium gives him the empire of the world. he is never the slave of objective existences. he knows that, 'just as the best language is that which is never spoken, so the best action is that which is never done.' he is passive, and accepts the laws of life. he rests in inactivity, and sees the world become virtuous of itself. he does not try to 'bring about his own good deeds.' he never wastes himself on effort. he is not troubled about moral distinctions. he knows that things are what they are, and that their consequences will be what they will be. his mind is the 'speculum of creation,' and he is ever at peace. all this is of course excessively dangerous, but we must remember that chuang tzu lived more than two thousand years ago, and never had the opportunity of seeing our unrivalled civilisation. and yet it is possible that, were he to come back to earth and visit us, he might have something to say to mr. balfour about his coercion and active misgovernment in ireland; he might smile at some of our philanthropic ardours, and shake his head over many of our organised charities; the school board might not impress him, nor our race for wealth stir his admiration; he might wonder at our ideals, and grow sad over what we have realised. perhaps it is well that chuang tzu cannot return. meanwhile, thanks to mr. giles and mr. quaritch, we have his book to console us, and certainly it is a most fascinating and delightful volume. chuang tzu is one of the darwinians before darwin. he traces man from the germ, and sees his unity with nature. as an anthropologist he is excessively interesting, and he describes our primitive arboreal ancestor living in trees through his terror of animals stronger than himself, and knowing only one parent, the mother, with all the accuracy of a lecturer at the royal society. like plato, he adopts the dialogue as his mode of expression, 'putting words into other people's mouths,' he tells us, 'in order to gain breadth of view.' as a story-teller he is charming. the account of the visit of the respectable confucius to the great robber che is most vivid and brilliant, and it is impossible not to laugh over the ultimate discomfiture of the sage, the barrenness of whose moral platitudes is ruthlessly exposed by the successful brigand. even in his metaphysics, chuang tzu is intensely humorous. he personifies his abstractions, and makes them act plays before us. the spirit of the clouds, when passing eastward through the expanse of air, happened to fall in with the vital principle. the latter was slapping his ribs and hopping about: whereupon the spirit of the clouds said, 'who are you, old man, and what are you doing?' 'strolling!' replied the vital principle, without stopping, for all activities are ceaseless. 'i want to _know_ something,' continued the spirit of the clouds. 'ah!' cried the vital principle, in a tone of disapprobation, and a marvellous conversation follows, that is not unlike the dialogue between the sphinx and the chimera in flaubert's curious drama. talking animals, also, have their place in chuang tzu's parables and stories, and through myth and poetry and fancy his strange philosophy finds musical utterance. of course it is sad to be told that it is immoral to be consciously good, and that doing anything is the worst form of idleness. thousands of excellent and really earnest philanthropists would be absolutely thrown upon the rates if we adopted the view that nobody should be allowed to meddle in what does not concern him. the doctrine of the uselessness of all useful things would not merely endanger our commercial supremacy as a nation, but might bring discredit upon many prosperous and serious-minded members of the shop-keeping classes. what would become of our popular preachers, our exeter hall orators, our drawing-room evangelists, if we said to them, in the words of chuang tzu, 'mosquitoes will keep a man awake all night with their biting, and just in the same way this talk of charity and duty to one's neighbour drives us nearly crazy. sirs, strive to keep the world to its own original simplicity, and, as the wind bloweth where it listeth, so let virtue establish itself. wherefore this undue energy?' and what would be the fate of governments and professional politicians if we came to the conclusion that there is no such thing as governing mankind at all? it is clear that chuang tzu is a very dangerous writer, and the publication of his book in english, two thousand years after his death, is obviously premature, and may cause a great deal of pain to many thoroughly respectable and industrious persons. it may be true that the ideal of self-culture and self-development, which is the aim of his scheme of life, and the basis of his scheme of philosophy, is an ideal somewhat needed by an age like ours, in which most people are so anxious to educate their neighbours that they have actually no time left in which to educate themselves. but would it be wise to say so? it seems to me that if we once admitted the force of any one of chuang tzu's destructive criticisms we should have to put some check on our national habit of self-glorification; and the only thing that ever consoles man for the stupid things he does is the praise he always gives himself for doing them. there may, however, be a few who have grown wearied of that strange modern tendency that sets enthusiasm to do the work of the intellect. to these, and such as these, chuang tzu will be welcome. but let them only read him. let them not talk about him. he would be disturbing at dinner-parties, and impossible at afternoon teas, and his whole life was a protest against platform speaking. 'the perfect man ignores self; the divine man ignores action; the true sage ignores reputation.' these are the principles of chuang tzu. chuang tzu: mystic, moralist, and social reformer. translated from the chinese by herbert a. giles, h.b.m.'s consul at tamsui. (bernard quaritch.) mr. pater's last volume (speaker, march , .) when i first had the privilege--and i count it a very high one--of meeting mr. walter pater, he said to me, smiling, 'why do you always write poetry? why do you not write prose? prose is so much more difficult.' it was during my undergraduate days at oxford; days of lyrical ardour and of studious sonnet-writing; days when one loved the exquisite intricacy and musical repetitions of the ballade, and the villanelle with its linked long-drawn echoes and its curious completeness; days when one solemnly sought to discover the proper temper in which a triolet should be written; delightful days, in which, i am glad to say, there was far more rhyme than reason. i may frankly confess now that at the time i did not quite comprehend what mr. pater really meant; and it was not till i had carefully studied his beautiful and suggestive essays on the renaissance that i fully realised what a wonderful self-conscious art the art of english prose- writing really is, or may be made to be. carlyle's stormy rhetoric, ruskin's winged and passionate eloquence, had seemed to me to spring from enthusiasm rather than from art. i do not think i knew then that even prophets correct their proofs. as for jacobean prose, i thought it too exuberant; and queen anne prose appeared to me terribly bald, and irritatingly rational. but mr. pater's essays became to me 'the golden book of spirit and sense, the holy writ of beauty.' they are still this to me. it is possible, of course, that i may exaggerate about them. i certainly hope that i do; for where there is no exaggeration there is no love, and where there is no love there is no understanding. it is only about things that do not interest one, that one can give a really unbiassed opinion; and this is no doubt the reason why an unbiassed opinion is always valueless. but i must not allow this brief notice of mr. pater's new volume to degenerate into an autobiography. i remember being told in america that whenever margaret fuller wrote an essay upon emerson the printers had always to send out to borrow some additional capital 'i's,' and i feel it right to accept this transatlantic warning. appreciations, in the fine latin sense of the word, is the title given by mr. pater to his book, which is an exquisite collection of exquisite essays, of delicately wrought works of art--some of them being almost greek in their purity of outline and perfection of form, others mediaeval in their strangeness of colour and passionate suggestion, and all of them absolutely modern, in the true meaning of the term modernity. for he to whom the present is the only thing that is present, knows nothing of the age in which he lives. to realise the nineteenth century one must realise every century that has preceded it, and that has contributed to its making. to know anything about oneself, one must know all about others. there must be no mood with which one cannot sympathise, no dead mode of life that one cannot make alive. the legacies of heredity may make us alter our views of moral responsibility, but they cannot but intensify our sense of the value of criticism; for the true critic is he who bears within himself the dreams and ideas and feelings of myriad generations, and to whom no form of thought is alien, no emotional impulse obscure. perhaps the most interesting, and certainly the least successful, of the essays contained in the present volume is that on style. it is the most interesting because it is the work of one who speaks with the high authority that comes from the noble realisation of things nobly conceived. it is the least successful, because the subject is too abstract. a true artist like mr. pater is most felicitous when he deals with the concrete, whose very limitations give him finer freedom, while they necessitate more intense vision. and yet what a high ideal is contained in these few pages! how good it is for us, in these days of popular education and facile journalism, to be reminded of the real scholarship that is essential to the perfect writer, who, 'being a true lover of words for their own sake, a minute and constant observer of their physiognomy,' will avoid what is mere rhetoric, or ostentatious ornament, or negligent misuse of terms, or ineffective surplusage, and will be known by his tact of omission, by his skilful economy of means, by his selection and self-restraint, and perhaps above all by that conscious artistic structure which is the expression of mind in style. i think i have been wrong in saying that the subject is too abstract. in mr. pater's hands it becomes very real to us indeed, and he shows us how, behind the perfection of a man's style, must lie the passion of a man's soul. as one passes to the rest of the volume, one finds essays on wordsworth and on coleridge, on charles lamb and on sir thomas browne, on some of shakespeare's plays and on the english kings that shakespeare fashioned, on dante rossetti, and on william morris. as that on wordsworth seems to be mr. pater's last work, so that on the singer of the defence of guenevere is certainly his earliest, or almost his earliest, and it is interesting to mark the change that has taken place in his style. this change is, perhaps, at first sight not very apparent. in we find mr. pater writing with the same exquisite care for words, with the same studied music, with the same temper, and something of the same mode of treatment. but, as he goes on, the architecture of the style becomes richer and more complex, the epithet more precise and intellectual. occasionally one may be inclined to think that there is, here and there, a sentence which is somewhat long, and possibly, if one may venture to say so, a little heavy and cumbersome in movement. but if this be so, it comes from those side-issues suddenly suggested by the idea in its progress, and really revealing the idea more perfectly; or from those felicitous after-thoughts that give a fuller completeness to the central scheme, and yet convey something of the charm of chance; or from a desire to suggest the secondary shades of meaning with all their accumulating effect, and to avoid, it may be, the violence and harshness of too definite and exclusive an opinion. for in matters of art, at any rate, thought is inevitably coloured by emotion, and so is fluid rather than fixed, and, recognising its dependence upon moods and upon the passion of fine moments, will not accept the rigidity of a scientific formula or a theological dogma. the critical pleasure, too, that we receive from tracing, through what may seem the intricacies of a sentence, the working of the constructive intelligence, must not be overlooked. as soon as we have realised the design, everything appears clear and simple. after a time, these long sentences of mr. pater's come to have the charm of an elaborate piece of music, and the unity of such music also. i have suggested that the essay on wordsworth is probably the most recent bit of work contained in this volume. if one might choose between so much that is good, i should be inclined to say it is the finest also. the essay on lamb is curiously suggestive; suggestive, indeed, of a somewhat more tragic, more sombre figure, than men have been wont to think of in connection with the author of the essays of elia. it is an interesting aspect under which to regard lamb, but perhaps he himself would have had some difficulty in recognising the portrait given of him. he had, undoubtedly, great sorrows, or motives for sorrow, but he could console himself at a moment's notice for the real tragedies of life by reading any one of the elizabethan tragedies, provided it was in a folio edition. the essay on sir thomas browne is delightful, and has the strange, personal, fanciful charm of the author of the religio medici, mr. pater often catching the colour and accent and tone of whatever artist, or work of art, he deals with. that on coleridge, with its insistence on the necessity of the cultivation of the relative, as opposed to the absolute spirit in philosophy and in ethics, and its high appreciation of the poet's true position in our literature, is in style and substance a very blameless work. grace of expression and delicate subtlety of thought and phrase, characterise the essays on shakespeare. but the essay on wordsworth has a spiritual beauty of its own. it appeals, not to the ordinary wordsworthian with his uncritical temper, and his gross confusion of ethical and aesthetical problems, but rather to those who desire to separate the gold from the dross, and to reach at the true wordsworth through the mass of tedious and prosaic work that bears his name, and that serves often to conceal him from us. the presence of an alien element in wordsworth's art is, of course, recognised by mr. pater, but he touches on it merely from the psychological point of view, pointing out how this quality of higher and lower moods gives the effect in his poetry 'of a power not altogether his own, or under his control'; a power which comes and goes when it wills, 'so that the old fancy which made the poet's art an enthusiasm, a form of divine possession, seems almost true of him.' mr. pater's earlier essays had their purpurei panni, so eminently suitable for quotation, such as the famous passage on mona lisa, and that other in which botticelli's strange conception of the virgin is so strangely set forth. from the present volume it is difficult to select any one passage in preference to another as specially characteristic of mr. pater's treatment. this, however, is worth quoting at length. it contains a truth eminently suitable for our age: that the end of life is not action but contemplation--_being_ as distinct from _doing_--a certain disposition of the mind: is, in some shape or other, the principle of all the higher morality. in poetry, in art, if you enter into their true spirit at all, you touch this principle in a measure; these, by their sterility, are a type of beholding for the mere joy of beholding. to treat life in the spirit of art is to make life a thing in which means and ends are identified: to encourage such treatment, the true moral significance of art and poetry. wordsworth, and other poets who have been like him in ancient or more recent times, are the masters, the experts, in this art of impassioned contemplation. their work is not to teach lessons, or enforce rules, or even to stimulate us to noble ends, but to withdraw the thoughts for a while from the mere machinery of life, to fix them, with appropriate emotions, on the spectacle of those great facts in man's existence which no machinery affects, 'on the great and universal passions of men, the most general and interesting of their occupations, and the entire world of nature'--on 'the operations of the elements and the appearances of the visible universe, on storm and sunshine, on the revolutions of the seasons, on cold and heat, on loss of friends and kindred, on injuries and resentments, on gratitude and hope, on fear and sorrow.' to witness this spectacle with appropriate emotions is the aim of all culture; and of these emotions poetry like wordsworth's is a great nourisher and stimulant. he sees nature full of sentiment and excitement; he sees men and women as parts of nature, passionate, excited, in strange grouping and connection with the grandeur and beauty of the natural world:--images, in his own words, 'of men suffering, amid awful forms and powers.' certainly the real secret of wordsworth has never been better expressed. after having read and reread mr. pater's essay--for it requires re-reading--one returns to the poet's work with a new sense of joy and wonder, and with something of eager and impassioned expectation. and perhaps this might be roughly taken as the test or touchstone of the finest criticism. finally, one cannot help noticing the delicate instinct that has gone to fashion the brief epilogue that ends this delightful volume. the difference between the classical and romantic spirits in art has often, and with much over-emphasis, been discussed. but with what a light sure touch does mr. pater write of it! how subtle and certain are his distinctions! if imaginative prose be really the special art of this century, mr. pater must rank amongst our century's most characteristic artists. in certain things he stands almost alone. the age has produced wonderful prose styles, turbid with individualism, and violent with excess of rhetoric. but in mr. pater, as in cardinal newman, we find the union of personality with perfection. he has no rival in his own sphere, and he has escaped disciples. and this, not because he has not been imitated, but because in art so fine as his there is something that, in its essence, is inimitable. appreciations, with an essay on style. by walter pater, fellow of brasenose college. (macmillan and co.) primavera (pall mall gazette, may , .) in the summer term oxford teaches the exquisite art of idleness, one of the most important things that any university can teach, and possibly as the first-fruits of the dreaming in grey cloister and silent garden, which either makes or mars a man, there has just appeared in that lovely city a dainty and delightful volume of poems by four friends. these new young singers are mr. laurence binyon, who has just gained the newdigate; mr. manmohan ghose, a young indian of brilliant scholarship and high literary attainments who gives some culture to christ church; mr. stephen phillips, whose recent performance of the ghost in hamlet at the globe theatre was so admirable in its dignity and elocution; and mr. arthur cripps, of trinity. particular interest attaches naturally to mr. ghose's work. born in india, of purely indian parentage, he has been brought up entirely in england, and was educated at st. paul's school, and his verses show us how quick and subtle are the intellectual sympathies of the oriental mind, and suggest how close is the bond of union that may some day bind india to us by other methods than those of commerce and military strength. there is something charming in finding a young indian using our language with such care for music and words as mr. ghose does. here is one of his songs: over thy head, in joyful wanderings through heaven's wide spaces, free, birds fly with music in their wings; _and from the blue, rough sea the fishes flash and leap_; there is a life of loveliest things o'er thee, so fast asleep. in the deep west the heavens grow heavenlier, eve after eve; _and still the glorious stars remember to appear_; the roses on the hill are fragrant as before: only thy face, of all that's dear, i shall see nevermore! it has its faults. it has a great many faults. but the lines we have set in italics are lovely. the temper of keats, the moods of matthew arnold, have influenced mr. ghose, and what better influence could a beginner have? here are some stanzas from another of mr. ghose's poems: deep-shaded will i lie, and deeper yet in night, where not a leaf its neighbour knows; forget the shining of the stars, forget the vernal visitation of the rose; and, far from all delights, prepare my heart's repose. 'o crave not silence thou! too soon, too sure, shall autumn come, and through these branches weep: some birds shall cease, and flowers no more endure; and thou beneath the mould unwilling creep, and silent soon shalt be in that eternal sleep. 'green still it is, where that fair goddess strays; then follow, till around thee all be sere. lose not a vision of her passing face; nor miss the sound of her soft robes, that here sweep over the wet leaves of the fast-falling year.' the second line is very beautiful, and the whole shows culture and taste and feeling. mr. ghose ought some day to make a name in our literature. mr. stephen phillips has a more solemn classical muse. his best work is his orestes: me in far lands did justice call, cold queen among the dead, who, after heat and haste at length have leisure for her steadfast voice, that gathers peace from the great deeps of hell. she call'd me, saying: i heard a cry by night! go thou, and question not; within thy halls my will awaits fulfilment. . . . . . . and she lies there, my mother! ay, my mother now; o hair that once i play'd with in these halls! o eyes that for a moment knew me as i came, and lighten'd up, and trembled into love; the next were darkened by my hand! ah me! ye will not look upon me in that world. yet thou, perchance, art happier, if thou go'st into some land of wind and drifting leaves, to sleep without a star; but as for me, hell hungers, and the restless furies wait. milton, and the method of greek tragedy are mr. phillips's influences, and again we may say, what better influences could a young singer have? his verse is dignified, and has distinction. * * * * * mr. cripps is melodious at times, and mr. binyon, oxford's latest laureate, shows us in his lyrical ode on youth that he can handle a difficult metre dexterously, and in this sonnet that he can catch the sweet echoes that sleep in the sonnets of shakespeare: i cannot raise my eyelids up from sleep, but i am visited with thoughts of you; slumber has no refreshment half so deep as the sweet morn, that wakes my heart anew. i cannot put away life's trivial care, but you straightway steal on me with delight: my purest moments are your mirror fair; my deepest thought finds you the truth most bright you are the lovely regent of my mind, the constant sky to the unresting sea; yet, since 'tis you that rule me, i but find a finer freedom in such tyranny. were the world's anxious kingdoms govern'd so, lost were their wrongs, and vanish'd half their woe! on the whole primavera is a pleasant little book, and we are glad to welcome it. it is charmingly 'got up,' and undergraduates might read it with advantage during lecture hours. primavera: poems. by four authors. (oxford: b. h. blackwell.) index of authors and books reviewed aitchison, james: the chronicle of mites anonymous: an author's love annals of the life of shakespeare miss bayle's romance rachel sturm und drang the cross and the grail the judgment of the city warring angels armstrong, george francis: stories of wicklow arnold, sir edwin: with sa'di in the garden ashby-sterry, j.: the lazy minstrel austin, alfred: days of the year love's widowhood author of flitters, tatters, and the counsellor: ismay's children author of lucy: tiff author of mademoiselle mori: a child of the revolution under a cloud author of the white africans: aeonial balzac, honore de: cesar birotteau the duchess of langeais and other stories barker, john thomas: the pilgrimage of memory barr, amelia: a daughter of fife barrett, frank: the great hesper bauche, emile: a statesman's love bayliss, wyke: the enchanted island beaufort, raphael ledos de: letters of george sand bellairs, lady: gossips with girls and maidens blunt, wilfrid scawen: in vinculis boissier, gaston: nouvelles promenades archeologiques bowen, sir charles: virgil in english verse. eclogues and aeneid i.-vi. bowling, e. w.: sagittulae brodie, e. h.: lyrics of the sea broughton, rhoda: betty's visions browne, phyllis: mrs. somerville and mary carpenter buchan, alexander: joseph and his brethren buchanan, robert: that winter night burns, dawson: oliver cromwell caine, hall: life of samuel taylor coleridge cairns, william: a day after the pair caldecott, randolph: gleanings from the graphic cameron, mrs. henry lovett: a life's mistake carnarvon, earl of: the odyssey of homer. books i.-xii. carpenter, edward: chants of labour catty, charles: poems in the modern spirit cesaresco, countess evelyn martinengo: essays in the study of folk-songs chapman, elizabeth rachel: the new purgatory chetwynd, hon. mrs. henry: mrs. dorriman christian, h. r. h. princess: memoirs of wilhelmine, margravine of baireuth cockle, j.: guilt (mullner) cole, alan: embroidery and lace (ernest lefebure) coleridge, hon. stephen: demetrius collier, hon. john: a manual of oil painting colvin, sidney: keats conway, hugh: a cardinal sin cooper, elise: the queen's innocent corkran, alice: margery morton's girlhood meg's friend craik, mrs.: poems crane, walter: flora's feast crawford, john martin: the kalevala, the epic poem of finland cumberland, stuart: the vasty deep curtis, ella: a game of chance curzon, g.: delamere dalziel, george: pictures in the fire davis, cora m.: immortelles day, richard: poems denman, hon. g.: the story of the kings of rome in verse denning, john renton: poems and songs dilke, lady: art in the modern state dixon, constance e.: the chimneypiece of bruges dobell, mrs. horace: in the watches of the night doudney, sarah: under false colours doveton, f. b.: sketches in prose and verse duffy, bella: life of madame de stael durant, heloise: dante: a dramatic poem dyer, rev. a. saunders: the poems of madame de la mothe guyon edmonds, e. m.: greek lays, idylls, legends, etc. mary myles evans, w.: caesar borgia evelyn, john: life of mrs. godolphin fane, violet: helen davenant fenn, george manville: a bag of diamonds the master of the ceremonies field, michael: canute the great fitz gerald, caroline: venetia victrix fosket, edward: poems foster, david skaats: rebecca the witch four authors: primavera froude, j, a.: the two chiefs of dunboy furlong, atherton: echoes of memory gallenga, a.: jenny jennet giberne, agnes: ralph hardcastle's will giles, herbert a: chuang tzu glenessa: the discovery goodchild, john a.: somnia medici. second series gordon, adam lindsay: poems grant, john cameron: vanclin graves, a. p.: father o'flynn and other irish lyrics griffin, edwin ellis: vortigern and rowena griffiths, william: sonnets and other poems hamilton, ian: the ballad of hadji hardinge, w. m.: the willow garth hardy, a. j.: how to be happy though married harrison, clifford: in hours of leisure harte, bret: cressy hayes, alfred: david westren heartsease: god's garden henley, william ernest: a book of verses heywood, j. c.: salome hole, w. g.: procris hopkins, tighe: 'twixt love and duty houston, mrs.: a heart on fire hunt, mrs. alfred: that other person irwin, h. c.: rhymes and renderings keene, h. e.: verses: translated and original kelly, james: poems k. e. v.: the circle of saints the circle of seasons kingsford, dr. anna.: dreams and dream-stories knight, joseph: life of dante gabriel rossetti knight, william: wordsworthiana laffan, mrs. de courcy: a song of jubilee langridge, rev. frederick: poor folks' lives lauder, sir thomas: the wolfe of badenoch lee, margaret: faithful and unfaithful le gallienne, richard: volumes in folio levy, amy: the romance of a shop lindsay, lady: caroline linton, w. j.: poems and translations lloyd, j. sale: scamp lyall, edna: in the golden days macewen, constance: soap mack, robert ellice: treasures of art and song mackenzie, george: highland daydreams macquoid, katherine s.: louisa mahaffy, j. p.: greek life and thought the principles of the art of conversation martin, frances: life of elizabeth gilbert marzials, frank t.: life of charles dickens masson, gustave: george sand (elme caro) matthews, brander: pen and ink mckim, joseph: poems molesworth, mrs.: a christmas posy the third miss st. quentin montgomery, florence: the fisherman's daughter morine, george: poems morris, william: a tale of the house of the wolfings the odyssey of homer done into english verse moulton, louise chandler: ourselves and our neighbours mulholland, rosa: gianetta marcella grace munster, lady: dorinda naden, constance: a modern apostle nash, charles: the story of the cross nesbit, e.: lays and legends leaves of life noel, hon. roden: essays on poetry and poets noel, lady augusta: hithersea mere oliphant, mrs.: makers of venice oliver, pen: all but ouida: guilderoy owen, evelyn: driven home oxoniensis: juvenal in piccadilly pater, walter: appreciations, with an essay on style imaginary portraits peacock, thomas bower: poems of the plain and songs of the solitudes perks, mrs. j. hartley: from heather hills pfeiffer, emily: women and work phillimore, miss: studies in italian literature pierce, j.: stanzas and sonnets pimlico, lord: the excellent mystery pleydell-bouverie, edward oliver: j. s.; or, trivialities preston, harriet waters: a year in eden prevost, francis: fires of green wood quilter, harry: sententiae artis raffalovich, mark andre: tuberose and meadowsweet ristori, madame: etudes et souvenirs ritchie, david: darwinism and politics robertson, eric s.: life of henry wadsworth longfellow the children of the poets robertson, j. logie: poems by allan ramsay robins, g. m.: keep my secret robinson, a. mary f.: poems, ballads, and a garden play robinson, mabel: the plan of campaign rodd, rennell: the unknown madonna ross, james: seymour's inheritance the wind and six sonnets ross, janet: three generations of english women rossetti, william michael: life of john keats ruete, princess emily: memoirs of an arabian princess safford, mary j.: aphrodite (ernst eckstein) saintsbury, george: george borrow sarasvati, pundita ramabai: the high-caste hindu woman schwartz, j. m. w.: nivalis sharp, isaac: saul of tarsus sharp, mrs. william: women's voices sharp, william: romantic ballads and poems of phantasy sheridan, richard brinsley: here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen shore, arabella: dante for beginners skipsey, joseph: carols from the coal fields sladen, douglas b. w.: australian poets, - smith, alexander skene: holiday recreations somerset, lord henry: songs of adieu speight, t. w.: a barren title stapfer, paul: moliere et shakespeare stillman, w. j.: on the track of ulysses stokes, margaret: early christian art in ireland streets, faucet: a marked man stutfield, hugh: el magreb: twelve hundred miles' ride through morocco swinburne, algernon charles: poems and ballads. third series symonds, john addington: ben jonson renaissance in italy: the catholic reaction thornton, cyrus: voices of the street todhunter, john: the banshee tomson, graham r.: the bird bride toynbee, william: a selection from the songs of de beranger in english verse turner, c. gladstone: errata two tramps: low down tylor, louis: chess: a christmas masque tyrrell, christina: her son (e. werner) veitch, john: the feeling for nature in scottish poetry veitch, sophie: james hepburn von lauer, baroness: the master of tanagra (ernst von wildenbruch) walford, mrs.: four biographies from blackwood walworth, rev. clarence a.: andiatorochte wanderer: dinners and dishes whishaw, frederick: injury and insult (fedor dostoieffski) whitman, walt: november boughs williams, f. harald: women must weep williamson, david r.: poems of nature and life willis, e. cooper: tales and legends in verse wills, w. g.: melchior wilmot, a.: the poetry of south africa winter, john strange: that imp woods, margaret l.: a village tragedy wotton, mabel: word portraits of famous writers yeats, w. b.: fairy and folk tales of the irish peasantry the wanderings of oisin yonge, charlotte m., and others: astray footnotes: { } see a 'jolly' art critic, page . { } shairp was professor of poetry at oxford in wilde's undergraduate days. { } the margravine of baireuth and voltaire. (david stott, .) { } february . { a} september . { b} see the picture of dorian gray, chapter xi., page . { } the queen, december , . { } from lady wilde's ancient legends of ireland. { } see page . { } see australian poets, page . note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) transcriber's note: thomas frognall dibdin's _bibliomania_ was originally published in and was re-issued in several editions, including one published by chatto & windus in . this e-book was prepared from a reprint of the edition, published by thoemmes press and kinokuniya company ltd. in . where the reprint was unclear, the transcriber consulted a copy of the actual edition. footnotes the original contains numerous footnotes, denoted by numbers prior to part i, and by symbols in the remainder of the book. all of the footnotes are consecutively numbered in this e-book; footnotes within footnotes are lettered. some of the footnotes contain lengthy book catalogues with descriptions and prices. for ease of reading, in this e-book these catalogues have been formatted as lists rather than tables. text that in the original was rendered in blackletter is enclosed between equal signs (=bold face=). letters with macrons are enclosed in brackets and preceded by an equal sign, e.g. [=a]. spelling and typographical errors are retained as they appear in the original, with a [transcriber's note] containing the correct spelling. minor obvious punctuation and font errors have been corrected without note. inconsistent diacriticals and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in the original. there are frequent inconsistencies in the spelling of certain proper names. these have been retained as they appear in the original, for example: bibliothèque/bibliothéque boccaccio/bocaccio/boccacio de foe/defoe français/françois loménie/lomenie montfauçon/montfaucon roxburgh/roxburghe shakspeare/shakespeare spenser/spencer tewrdannckhs/tewrdranckhs/teurdanckhs (and other variations) vallière/valliere bibliomania. [illustration] _libri quosdam ad scientiam, quosdam ad insaniam, deduxêre._ geyler: navis stultifera: sign. b. iiij. rev. bibliomania; or =book-madness;= a bibliographical romance. illustrated with cuts. by thomas frognall dibdin, d.d. =new and improved edition,= to which are added preliminary observations, and a supplement including a key to the assumed characters in the drama. [illustration: _engraved by s. freeman._] =london:= chatto & windus, piccadilly. mdccclxxvi. [illustration: t.f. dibdin, d.d. _engraved by james thomson from the original painting by t. phillips, esqr. r.a._ published by the proprietors (for the new edition) of the rev. dr. dibdins bibliomania .] [illustration] to the right honourable the earl of powis, president of =the roxburgh club,= this new edition of bibliomania is respectfully dedicated by the author. [illustration] advertisement. _the public may not be altogether unprepared for the re-appearance of the bibliomania in a more attractive garb than heretofore;--and, in consequence, more in uniformity with the previous publications of the author._ _more than thirty years have elapsed since the last edition; an edition, which has become so scarce that there seemed to be no reasonable objection why the possessors of the_ other _works of the author should be deprived of an opportunity of adding the_ present _to the number: and although this re-impression may, on first glance, appear something like a violation of contract with the public, yet, when the length of time which has elapsed, and the smallness of the price of the preceding impression, be considered, there does not appear to be any very serious obstacle to the present republication; the more so, as the number of copies is limited to five hundred._ _another consideration deeply impressed itself upon the mind of the author. the course of thirty years has necessarily brought changes and alterations amongst "men and things." the dart of death has been so busy during this period that, of the bibliomaniacs so plentifully recorded in the previous work, scarcely_ three,_--including the author--have survived. this has furnished a monitory theme for the appendix; which, to the friends both of the dead and the living, cannot be perused without sympathising emotions--_ _"a sigh the absent claim, the dead a tear."_ _the changes and alterations in "things,"--that is to say in the_ =bibliomania= _itself--have been equally capricious and unaccountable: our countrymen being, in_ these _days, to the full as fond of novelty and variety as in those of henry the eighth. dr. board, who wrote his_ introduction of knowledge _in the year , and dedicated it to the princess mary, thus observes of our countrymen:_ _i am an englishman, and naked do i stand here, musing in my mind what raiment i shall wear; for now i will wear_ this, _and now i will wear_ that, _now i will wear--i cannot tell what._ _this highly curious and illustrative work was reprinted, with all its wood-cut embellishments, by mr. upcott. a copy of the original and most scarce edition is among the selden books in the bodleian library, and in the chetham collection at manchester. see the_ typographical antiquities, _vol._ iii. _p._ - . _but i apprehend the general apathy of bibliomaniacs to be in a great measure attributable to the vast influx of books, of every description, from the continent--owing to the long continuance of peace; and yet, in the appearance of what are called_ english rarities, _the market seems to be almost as barren as ever. the wounds, inflicted in the heberian contest, have gradually healed, and are subsiding into forgetfulness; excepting where, from_ collateral _causes, there are too many_ striking _reasons to remember their existence._ _another motive may be humbly, yet confidently, assigned for the re-appearance of this work. it was thought, by its late proprietor,--mr. edward walmsley[ ]--to whose cost and liberality this edition owes its appearance--to be a volume, in itself, of pleasant and profitable perusal; composed perhaps in a quaint and original style, but in accordance with the characters of the_ dramatis personæ. _be this as it may, it is a work divested of all acrimonious feeling--is applicable to all classes of society, to whom harmless enthusiasm cannot be offensive--and is based upon a foundation not likely to be speedily undermined._ _t.f. dibdin._ _may_ , . [footnote : _mr. edward walmsley, who died in , at an advanced age, had been long known to me. he had latterly extensive calico-printing works at mitcham, and devoted much of his time to the production of beautiful patterns in that fabrication; his taste, in almost every thing which he undertook, leant towards the fine arts. his body was in the counting-house; but his spirit was abroad, in the studio of the painter or engraver. had his natural talents, which were strong and elastic, been cultivated in early life, he would, in all probability, have attained a considerable reputation. how he loved to embellish--almost to satiety--a favourite work, may be seen by consulting a subsequent page towards the end of this volume. he planned and published the_ physiognomical portraits, _a performance not divested of interest--but failing in general success, from the prints being, in many instances, a repetition of their precursors. the thought, however, was a good one; and many of the heads are powerfully executed. he took also a lively interest in mr. major's splendid edition of walpole's_ anecdotes of painting in england, _a work, which can never want a reader while taste has an abiding-place in one british bosom._ _mr. walmsley possessed a brave and generous spirit; and i scarcely knew a man more disposed to bury the remembrance of men's errors in that of their attainments and good qualities._] the bibliomania; or =book-madness;= containing some account of the history, symptoms, and cure of this fatal disease. in an epistle addressed to richard heber, esq. by the rev. thomas frognall dibdin, f.s.a. styll am i besy bokes assemblynge, for to have plenty it is a pleasaunt thynge in my conceyt, and to have them ay in honde: but what they mene i do nat understonde. =pynson's ship of fools.= edit. . london reprinted from the first edition, published in . =advertisement.= _in laying before the public the following brief and superficial account of a disease, which, till it arrested the attention of dr. ferriar, had entirely escaped the sagacity of all ancient and modern physicians, it has been my object to touch chiefly on its leading characteristics; and to present the reader (in the language of my old friend francis quarles) with an "honest pennyworth" of information, which may, in the end, either suppress or soften the ravages of so destructive a malady. i might easily have swelled the size of this treatise by the introduction of much additional, and not incurious, matter; but i thought it most prudent to wait the issue of the present "recipe," at once simple in its composition and gentle in its effects._ _some apology is due to the amiable and accomplished character to whom my epistle is addressed, as well as to the public, for the apparently confused and indigested manner in which the notes are attached to the first part of this treatise; but, unless i had thrown them to the end (a plan which modern custom does not seem to warrant), it will be obvious that a different arrangement could not have been adopted; and equally so that the perusal, first of the text, and afterwards of the notes, will be the better mode of passing judgment upon both._ t.f.d. _kensington, june_ , . [illustration] to the reader. _a short time after the publication of the first edition of this work, a very worthy and shrewd bibliomaniac, accidentally meeting me, exclaimed that "the book_ would do, _but that there was not_ gall _enough in it." as he was himself a_ book-auction-loving bibliomaniac, _i was resolved, in a future edition, to gratify him and similar collectors by writing_ part iii. _of the present impression; the motto of which may probably meet their approbation._ _it will be evident, on a slight inspection of the present edition, that it is so much altered and enlarged as to assume the character of a new_ work. _this has not been done without mature reflection; and a long-cherished hope of making it permanently useful to a large class of general readers, as well as to book-collectors and bibliographers._ _it appeared to me that notices of such truly valuable, and oftentimes curious and rare, books, as the ensuing pages describe; but more especially a_ personal history of literature, _in the characters of_ collectors of books; _had long been a desideratum even with classical students: and in adopting the present form of publication, my chief object was to relieve the dryness of a didactic style by the introduction of_ dramatis personæ. _the worthy gentlemen, by whom the_ drama _is conducted, may be called, by some, merely wooden machines or_ pegs _to hang notes upon; but i shall not be disposed to quarrel with any criticism which may be passed upon their acting, so long as the greater part of the information, to which their dialogue gives rise, may be thought serviceable to the real interests of_ literature _and_ bibliography. _if i had chosen to assume a more imposing air with the public, by spinning out the contents of this closely-printed book into two or more volumes--which might have been done without violating the customary mode of publication--the expenses of the purchaser, and the profits of the author, would have equally increased: but i was resolved to bring forward as much matter as i could impart, in a convenient and not inelegantly executed form; and, if my own emoluments are less, i honestly hope the reader's advantage is greater._ _the_ engraved ornaments of portraits, vignettes, and borders, _were introduced, as well to gratify the eyes of tasteful bibliomaniacs, as to impress, upon the minds of readers in general, a more vivid recollection of some of those truly illustrious characters by whom the_ history of british literature _has been preserved._ _it remains only to add that the present work was undertaken to relieve, in a great measure, the anguish of mind arising from a severe domestic affliction; and if the voice of those whom we tenderly loved, whether parent or_ child, _could be heard from the_ grave, _i trust it would convey the sound of approbation for thus having filled a part of the measure of that time which, every hour, brings us nearer to those from whom we are separated._ _and now_, benevolent reader, _in promising thee as much amusement and instruction as ever were offered in a single volume, of a nature like to the present, i bid thee farewell in the language of_ vogt,[ ] _who thus praises the subject of which we are about to treat:--"quis non_ amabilem _eam laudabit_ insaniam, _quæ universæ rei litterariæ non obfuit, sed profuit; historiæ litterariæ doctrinam insigniter locupletavit; ingentemque exercitum voluminum, quibus alias aut in remotiora bibliothecarum publicarum scrinia commigrandum erat, aut plane pereundum, a carceribus et interitu vindicavit, exoptatissimæque luci et eruditorum usui multiplici felicitur restituit?"_ t.f.d. _kensington, march_ , . [footnote : catalogus librorum rariorum, præf. ix. edit. .] [illustration] contents. part i. the evening walk. _on the right uses of literature_ p. - . ii. the cabinet. _outline of foreign and domestic bibliography_ p. - . iii. the auction-room. _character of orlando. of ancient prices of books, and of book-binding. book-auction bibliomaniacs_ p. - . iv. the library. _dr. henry's history of great britain. a game at chess. of monachism and chivalry. dinner at lorenzo's. some account of book collectors in england_ p. - . v. the drawing room. _history of the bibliomania, or account of book collectors, concluded_ p. - . vi. the alcove. _symptoms of the disease called the bibliomania. probable means of its cure_ p. - . supplement. chronological index. bibliographical index. general index. [illustration: luther.] [illustration: melancthon.] published by the proprietor (for the new edition) of the rev. dr. dibdins bibliomania, . [illustration] =the bibliomania.= my dear sir, when the poetical epistle of dr. ferriar, under the popular title of "the bibliomania," was announced for publication, i honestly confess that, in common with many of my book-loving acquaintance, a strong sensation of fear and of hope possessed me: of fear, that i might have been accused, however indirectly, of having contributed towards the increase of this mania; and of hope, that the true object of book-collecting, and literary pursuits, might have been fully and fairly developed. the perusal of this elegant epistle dissipated alike my fears and my hopes; for, instead of caustic verses, and satirical notes,[ ] i found a smooth, melodious, and persuasive panegyric; unmixed, however, with any rules for the choice of books, or the regulation of study. [footnote : there are, nevertheless, some satirical allusions which one could have wished had been suppressed. for instance: he turns where pybus rears his atlas-head or madoc's mass conceals its veins of lead; what has mr. pybus's gorgeous book in praise of the late russian emperor paul i. (which some have called the chef-d'oeuvre of bensley's press[a]) to do with mr. southey's fine poem of madoc?--in which, if there are "veins of lead," there are not a few "of silver and gold." of the extraordinary talents of mr. southey, the indefatigable student in ancient lore, and especially in all that regards spanish literature and old english romances, this is not the place to make mention. his "_remains of henry kirk white_," the sweetest specimen of modern biography, has sunk into every heart, and received an eulogy from every tongue. yet is his own life "the more endearing song." dr. ferriar's next satirical verses are levelled at mr. thomas hope. "the lettered fop now takes a larger scope, with classic furniture, design'd by hope. (hope, whom upholsterers eye with mute despair, the doughty pedant of an elbow chair.") it has appeared to me that mr. hope's magnificent volume on "_household furniture_" has been generally misunderstood, and, in a few instances, criticised upon false principles.--the first question is, does the _subject_ admit of illustration? and if so, has mr. hope illustrated it properly? i believe there is no canon of criticism which forbids the treating of such a subject; and, while we are amused with archæological discussions on roman tiles and tesselated pavements, there seems to be no absurdity in making the decorations of our sitting rooms, including something more than the floor we walk upon, a subject at least of temperate and classical disquisition. suppose we had found such a treatise in the volumes of gronovius and montfaucon? (and are there not a few, apparently, as unimportant and confined in these rich volumes of the treasures of antiquity?) or suppose something similar to mr. hope's work had been found among the ruins of herculaneum? or, lastly, let us suppose the author had printed it only as a _private_ book, to be circulated as a present! in each of these instances, should we have heard the harsh censures which have been thrown out against it? on the contrary, is it not very probable that a wish might have been expressed that "so valuable a work ought to be made public." upon what principle, _a priori_, are we to ridicule and condemn it? i know of none. we admit vitruvius, inigo jones, gibbs, and chambers, into our libraries: and why not mr. hope's book? is decoration to be confined only to the exterior? and, if so, are works, which treat of these only, to be read and applauded? is the delicate bas-relief, and beautifully carved column, to be thrust from the cabinet and drawing room, to perish on the outside of a smoke-dried portico? or, is not _that_ the most deserving of commendation which produces the most numerous and pleasing associations of ideas? i recollect, when in company with the excellent dr. jenner, ----[clarum et venerabile nomen gentibus, et multum nostræ quod proderat urbi] and a half dozen more friends, we visited the splendid apartments in duchess street, portland place, we were not only struck with the appropriate arrangement of every thing, but, on our leaving them, and coming out into the dull foggy atmosphere of london, we acknowledged that the effect produced upon our minds was something like that which might have arisen had we been regaling ourselves on the silken couches, and within the illuminated chambers, of some of the enchanted palaces described in the arabian nights' entertainments. i suspect that those who have criticised mr. hope's work with asperity have never seen his house. these sentiments are not the result of partiality or prejudice, for i am wholly unacquainted with mr. hope. they are delivered with zeal, but with deference. it is quite consolatory to find a gentleman of large fortune, of respectable ancestry, and of classical attainments, devoting a great portion of that leisure time which hangs like a leaden weight upon the generality of fashionable people, to the service of the fine arts, and in the patronage of merit and ingenuity. how much the world will again be indebted to mr. hope's taste and liberality may be anticipated from the "_costume of the ancients_," a work which has recently been published under his particular superintendence.] [footnote a: this book is beautifully executed, undoubtedly, but being little more than a thin folio pamphlet devoid of _typographical_ embellishment--it has been thought by some hardly fair to say this of a press which brought out so many works characterized by magnitude and various elegance. b.b.] to say that i was not gratified by the perusal of it would be a confession contrary to the truth; but to say how ardently i anticipated an amplification of the subject, how eagerly i looked forward to a number of curious, apposite, and amusing anecdotes, and found them not therein, is an avowal of which i need not fear the rashness, when the known talents of the detector of stern's plagiarisms[ ] are considered. i will not, however, disguise to you that i read it with uniform delight, and that i rose from the perusal with a keener appetite for "the small, rare volume, black with tarnished gold." _dr. ferriar's ep._ v. . [footnote : in the fourth volume of the transactions of the manchester literary society, part iv., p. - , will be found a most ingenious and amusing essay, entitled "_comments on sterne_," which excited a good deal of interest at the time of its publication. this discovery may be considered, in some measure, as the result of the bibliomania. in my edition of sir thomas more's utopia, a suggestion is thrown out that even burton may have been an imitator of boisatuau [transcriber's note: boiastuau]: see vol. ii. .] whoever undertakes to write down the follies which grow out of an excessive attachment to any particular pursuit, be that pursuit horses,[ ] hawks, dogs, guns, snuff boxes,[ ] old china, coins, or rusty armour, may be thought to have little consulted the best means of ensuring success for his labours, when he adopts the dull vehicle of _prose_ for the commnication [transcriber's note: communication] of his ideas not considering that from _poetry_ ten thousand bright scintillations are struck off, which please and convince while they attract and astonish. thus when pope talks of allotting for "pembroke[ ] statues, dirty gods and coins; rare monkish manuscripts for hearne[ ] alone; and books to mead[ ] and butterflies to sloane,"[ ] when he says that these aldus[ ] printed, those du s[=u]eil has bound[ ] moreover that for locke or milton[ ] 'tis in vain to look; these shelves admit not any modern book; he not only seems to illustrate the propriety of the foregoing remark, by shewing the immense superiority of verse to prose, in ridiculing reigning absurdities, but he seems to have had a pretty strong foresight of the bibliomania which rages at the present day. however, as the ancients tell us that a poet cannot be a _manufactured_ creature, and as i have not the smallest pretensions to the "rhyming art," [although in former times[ ] i did venture to dabble with it] i must of necessity have recourse to _prose_; and, at the same time, to your candour and forbearance in perusing the pages which ensue. [footnote : it may be taken for granted that the first book in this country which excited a passion for the _sports of the field_ was dame juliana berners, or barnes's, work, on _hunting and hawking_, printed at st. alban's, in the year ; of which lord spencer's copy is, i believe, the only perfect one known. it was formerly the poet mason's, and is mentioned in the quarto edition of hoccleve's poems, p. , . see too bibl. mason. pt. iv. no. . whether the forementioned worthy lady was really the author of the work has been questioned. her book was reprinted by wynkyn de worde in , with an additional treatise on _fishing_. the following specimen, from this latter edition, ascertains the general usage of the french language with our huntsmen in the th century. beasts of venery. where so ever ye fare by frith or by fell, my dear child, take heed how trystram do you tell. how many manner beasts of venery there were: listen to your dame and she shall you _lere_. four manner beasts of venery there are. the first of them is the _hart_; the second is the _hare_; the _horse_ is one of them; the _wolf_; and not one _mo_. beasts of the chace. and where that ye come in plain or in place i shall tell you which be beasts of enchace. one of them is the _buck_; another is the _doe_; the _fox_; and the _marteron_, and the wild _roe_; and ye shall see, my dear child, other beastes all: where so ye them find _rascal_ ye shall them call. of the hunting of the hare. how to speke of the haare how all shall be wrought: when she shall with houndes be founden and sought. the fyrst worde to the ho[=u]dis that the hunter shall out pit is at the kenell doore whan he openeth it. that all maye hym here: he shall say "_arere!_" for his houndes would come to hastily. that is the firste worde my sone of venery. and when he hath couplyed his houndes echoon and is forth wyth theym to the felde goon, and whan he hath of caste his couples at wyll thenne he shall speke and saye his houndes tyll "_hors de couple avant, sa avant!_" twyse soo: and then "_so ho, so ho!_" thryes, and no moo. and then say "_sacy avaunt, so how_," i thou praye, etc. the following are a few more specimens--"_ha cy touz cy est yll_--_venez ares sa how sa_--_la douce la eit a venuz_--_ho ho ore, swet a lay, douce a luy_--_so how, so how, venez acoupler!!!_" whoever wishes to see these subjects brought down to later times, and handled with considerable dexterity, may consult the last numbers of the censura literaria, with the signature j.h. affixed to them. those who are anxious to procure the rare books mentioned in these bibliographical treatises, may be pretty safely taxed with being infected by the bibliomania. what apology my friend mr. haslewood, the author of them, has to offer in extenuation of the mischief committed, it is _his_ business, and not mine, to consider; and what the public will say to his curious forthcoming reprint of the ancient edition of wynkyn de worde _on hunting, hawking, and fishing_, (with wood cuts), i will not pretend to divine! in regard to hawking, i believe the enterprising colonel thornton in [transcriber's note: is] the only gentleman of the present day who keeps up this custom of "good old times." the sultans of the east seem not to have been insensible to the charms of falconry, if we are to judge from the evidence of tippoo saib having a work of this kind in his library; which is thus described from the catalogue of it just published in a fine quarto volume, of which only copies are printed. "_sh[=a]bb[=a]r n[=a]meh_, to. a treatise on falcony; containing instructions for selecting the best species of hawks, and the method of teaching them; describing their different qualities; also the disorders they are subject to, and method of cure. author unknown."--oriental library of tippoo saib, , p. .] [footnote : of _snuff boxes_ every one knows what a collection the great frederick, king of prussia, had--many of them studded with precious stones, and decorated with enamelled portraits. dr. c. of g----, has been represented to be the most successful rival of frederick, in this "line of collection," as it is called; some of his boxes are of uncommon curiosity. it may gratify a bibliographer to find that there are other manias besides that of the book; and that even physicians are not exempt from these diseases. of _old china_, _coins_, and _rusty armour_, the names of hundreds present themselves in these departments; but to the more commonly-known ones of rawle and grose, let me add that of the late mr. john white, of newgate-street; a catalogue of whose curiosities [including some very uncommon books] was published in the year , in three parts, vo. dr. burney tells us that mr. white "was in possession of a valuable collection of ancient rarities, as well as natural productions, of the most curious and extraordinary kind; no one of which however was more remarkable than the obliging manner in which he allowed them to be viewed and examined by his friends."--_history of music_, vol. ii. , note.] [footnote : the reader will find an animated eulogy on this great nobleman in walpole's _anecdotes of painters_, vol. iv. : part of which was transcribed by joseph warton for his variorum edition of pope's works, and thence copied into the recent edition of the same by the rev. w.l. bowles. but pembroke deserved a more particular notice. exclusively of his fine statues, and architectural decorations, the earl contrived to procure a number of curious and rare books; and the testimonies of maittaire [who speaks indeed of him with a sort of rapture!] and palmer shew that the productions of jenson and caxton were no strangers to his library. _annales typographici_, vol. i. . edit. . _history of printing_, p. v. "there is nothing that so surely proves the pre-eminence of virtue more than the universal admiration of mankind, and the respect paid it even by persons in opposite interests; and more than this, it is a sparkling gem which even time does not destroy: it is hung up in the temple of fame, and respected for ever." _continuation of granger_, vol. i. , &c. "he raised, continues mr. noble, a collection of antiques that were unrivalled by any subject. his learning made him a fit companion for the literati. wilton will ever be a monument of his extensive knowledge; and the princely presents it contains, of the high estimation in which he was held by foreign potentates, as well as by the many monarchs he saw and served at home. he lived rather as a primitive christian; in his behaviour, meek: in his dress, plain: rather retired, conversing but little." burnet, in the _history of his own times_, has spoken of the earl with spirit and propriety.] [footnote : in the recent variorum edition of pope's works, all that is annexed to hearne's name, as above introduced by the poet, is, "well known as an antiquarian." alas, poor hearne! thy merits, which are now fully appreciated, deserve an ampler notice! in spite of gibbon's unmerciful critique [_posthumous works_, vol. ii. .], the productions of this modest, erudite, and indefatigable antiquary are rising in price proportionably to their worth. if he had only edited the _collectanea_ and _itinerary_ of his favourite leland, he would have stood on high ground in the department of literature and antiquities; but his other and numerous works place him on a much loftier eminence. of these, the present is not the place to make mention; suffice it to say that, for copies of his works, on large paper, which the author used to advertise as selling for _s._ or _s._, or about which placards, to the same effect, used to be stuck on the walls of the colleges,--these very copies are now sometimes sold for more than the like number of guineas! it is amusing to observe that the lapse of a few years only has caused such a rise in the article of hearne; and that the peter langtoft on large paper, which at rowe mores's sale [bibl. mores. no. .] was purchased for £ . _s._ produced at a late sale, [a.d. ] £ ! a complete list of hearne's pieces will be found at the end of his life, printed with leland's, &c., at the clarendon press, in , vo. of these the "_acta apostolorum_, gr. lat;" and "_aluredi beverlacensis annales_," are, i believe, the scarcest. it is wonderful to think how this amiable and excellent man persevered "through evil report and good report," in illustrating the antiquities of his country. to the very last he appears to have been molested; and among his persecutors, the learned editor of josephus and dionysius halicarnasseus, dr. hudson, must be ranked, to the disgrace of himself and the party which he espoused. "hearne was buried in the church yard of st. peter's (at oxford) in the east, where is erected over his remains, a tomb, with an inscription written by himself, amicitiæ ergo. here lyeth the body of thomas hearne, m.a. who studied and preserved antiquities. he dyed june , . aged years. deut. xxxii: . remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; ask thy father and he will shew thee; thy elders and they will tell thee. job. viii. , , . enquire i pray thee." _life of hearne_, p. .] [footnote : of dr. mead and his library a particular account is given in the following pages.] [footnote : for this distinguished character consult nichols's _anecdotes of bowyer_, , note*; which, however, relates entirely to his ordinary habits and modes of life. his magnificent collection of natural curiosities and mss. is now in the british museum.] [footnote : the annals of the aldine press have had ample justice done to them in the beautiful and accurate work published by renouard, under the title of "_annales de l'imprimerie des alde_," in two vols., vo. . one is rather surprised at not finding any reference to this masterly piece of bibliography in the last edition of mr. roscoe's leo x., where there is a pleasing account of the establishment of the aldine press.] [footnote : i do not recollect having seen any book bound by this binder. of padaloup, de rome, and baumgarten, where is the fine collection that does not boast of a few specimens? we will speak "anon" of the roger paynes, kalthoebers, herrings, stagemiers, and in macklays of the day!] [footnote : this is not the reproach of the age we live in; for reprints of bacon, locke, and milton have been published with complete success. it would be ridiculous indeed for a man of sense, and especially a university man, to give £ or £ for "_gosson's school of abuse, against pipers and players_," or £ . _s._ for a clean copy of "_recreation for ingenious head pieces_, or a _pleasant grove for their wits to walk in,"_ and grudge the like sum for a dozen handsome octavo volumes of the finest writers of his country.] [footnote : about twelve years ago i was rash enough to publish a small volume of poems, with my name affixed. they were the productions of my juvenile years; and i need hardly say, at this period, how ashamed i am of their author-ship. the monthly and analytical reviews did me the kindness of just tolerating them, and of warning me not to commit any future trespass upon the premises of parnassus. i struck off copies, and was glad to get rid of half of them as waste paper; the remaining half has been partly destroyed by my own hands, and has partly mouldered away in oblivion amidst the dust of booksellers' shelves. my only consolation is that the volume is _exceedingly rare_!] if ever there was a country upon the face of the globe--from the days of nimrod the beast, to bagford[ ] the book-hunter--distinguished for the variety, the justness, and magnanimity of its views; if ever there was a nation which really and unceasingly "felt for another's woe" [i call to witness our infirmaries, hospitals, asylums, and other public and private institutions of a charitable nature, that, like so many belts of adamant, unite and strengthen us in the great cause of humanity]; if ever there was a country and a set of human beings pre-eminently distinguished for all the social virtues which soften and animate the soul of man, surely old england and englishmen are they! the common cant, it may be urged, of all writers in favour of the country where they chance to live! and what, you will say, has this to do with book collectors and books?--much, every way: a nation thus glorious is, at this present eventful moment, afflicted not only with the dog[ ], but the book, disease-- fire in each eye, and paper in each hand they rave, recite,---- [footnote : "john bagford, by profession a bookseller, frequently travelled into holland and other parts, in search of scarce books and valuable prints, and brought a vast number into this kingdom, the greatest part of which were purchased by the earl of oxford. he had been in his younger days a shoemaker; and, for the many curiosities wherewith he enriched the famous library of dr. john moore, bishop of ely, his lordship got him admitted into the charter house. he died in , aged : after his death lord oxford purchased all his collections and papers, for his library: these are now in the harleian collection in the british museum. in were published, in the philosophical transactions, his proposals for a general history of printing."--bowyer and nichols's _origin of printing_, p. , , note. it has been my fortune (whether good or bad remains to be proved) not only to transcribe the slender memorial of printing in the philosophical transactions, drawn up by wanley for bagford, but to wade through _forty-two_ folio volumes, in which bagford's materials for a history of printing are incorporated, in the british museum: and from these, i think i have furnished myself with a pretty fair idea of the said bagford. he was the most hungry and rapacious of all book and print collectors; and, in his ravages, spared neither the most delicate nor costly specimens. his eyes and his mouth seem to have been always open to express his astonishment at, sometimes, the most common and contemptible productions; and his paper in the philosophical transactions betrays such simplicity and ignorance that one is astonished how my lord oxford and the learned bishop of ely could have employed so credulous a bibliographical forager. a modern collector and lover of _perfect_ copies will witness, with shuddering, among bagford's immense collection of title pages, in the museum, the frontispieces of the complutensian polyglot, and chauncy's history of hertfordshire, torn out to illustrate a history of printing. his enthusiasm, however, carried him through a great deal of laborious toil; and he supplied, in some measure, by this qualification, the want of other attainments. his whole mind was devoted to book-hunting; and his integrity and diligence probably made his employers overlook his many failings. his hand-writing is scarcely legible, and his orthography is still more wretched; but if he was ignorant, he was humble, zealous, and grateful; and he has certainly done something towards the accomplishment of that desirable object, an accurate general history of printing. in my edition of _ames's typographical antiquities_, i shall give an analysis of bagford's papers, with a specimen or two of his composition.] [footnote : for an eloquent account of this disorder consult the letters of dr. mosely inserted in the morning herald of last year. i have always been surprised, and a little vexed, that these animated pieces of composition should be relished and praised by every one--but _the faculty_!] let us enquire, therefore, into the origin and tendency of the bibliomania. in this enquiry i purpose considering the subject under three points of view: i. the history of the disease; or an account of the eminent men who have fallen victims to it: ii. the nature, or symptoms of the disease: and iii. the probable means of its cure. we are to consider, then, . the history of the disease. in treating of the history of this disease, it will be found to have been attended with this remarkable circumstance; namely, that it has almost uniformly confined its attacks to the _male_ sex, and, among these, to people in the higher and middling classes of society, while the artificer, labourer, and peasant have escaped wholly uninjured. it has raged chiefly in palaces, castles, halls, and gay mansions; and those things which in general are supposed not to be inimical to health, such as cleanliness, spaciousness, and splendour, are only so many inducements towards the introduction and propagation of the bibliomania! what renders it particularly formidable is that it rages in all seasons of the year, and at all periods of human existence. the emotions of friendship or of love are weakened or subdued as old age advances; but the influence of this passion, or rather disease, admits of no mitigation: "it grows with our growth, and strengthens with our strength;" and is oft-times ----the ruling passion strong in death.[ ] [footnote : the writings of the roman philologers seem to bear evidence of this fact. seneca, when an old man, says that, "if you are fond of books, you will escape the ennui of life; you will neither sigh for evening, disgusted with the occupations of the day--nor will you live dissatisfied with yourself, or unprofitable to others." _de tranquilitate_, ch. . cicero has positively told us that "study is the food of youth, and the amusement of old age." _orat. pro archia_. the younger pliny was a downright bibliomaniac. "i am quite transported and comforted," says he, "in the midst of my books: they give a zest to the happiest, and assuage the anguish of the bitterest, moments of existence! therefore, whether distracted by the cares or the losses of my family, or my friends, i fly to my library as the only refuge in distress: here i learn to bear adversity with fortitude." _epist._ lib. viii. cap. . but consult cicero _de senectute_. all these treatises afford abundant proof of the hopelessness of cure in cases of the bibliomania.] we will now, my dear sir, begin "making out the catalogue" of victims to the bibliomania! the first eminent character who appears to have been infected with this disease was richard de bury, one of the tutors of edward iii., and afterwards bishop of durham; a man who has been uniformly praised for the variety of his erudition, and the intenseness of his ardour in book-collecting.[ ] i discover no other notorious example of the fatality of the bibliomania until the time of henry vii.; when the monarch himself may be considered as having added to the number. although our venerable typographer, caxton, lauds and magnifies, with equal sincerity, the whole line of british kings, from edward iv. to henry vii. [under whose patronage he would seem, in some measure, to have carried on his printing business], yet, of all these monarchs, the latter alone was so unfortunate as to fall a victim to this disease. his library must have been a magnificent one, if we may judge from the splendid specimens of it which now remain.[ ] it would appear, too, that, about this time, the bibliomania was increased by the introduction of foreign printed books; and it is not very improbable that a portion of henry's immense wealth was devoted towards the purchase of vellum copies, which were now beginning to be published by the great typographical triumvirate, verard, eustace, and pigouchet. [footnote : it may be expected that i should notice a few book-lovers, and probably bibliomaniacs, previously to the time of richard de bury; but so little is known with accuracy of johannes scotus erigena, and his patron charles the bald, king of france, or of the book tête-a-têtes they used to have together--so little, also, of nennius, bede, and alfred [although the monasteries at this period, from the evidence of sir william dugdale, in the first volume of the monasticon were "opulently endowed,"--inter alia, i should hope, with magnificent mss. on vellum, bound in velvet, and embossed with gold and silver], or the illustrious writers in the norman period, and the fine books which were in the abbey of croyland--so little is known of book-collectors, previously to the th century, that i thought it the most prudent and safe way to begin with the above excellent prelate. richard de bury was the friend and correspondent of petrarch; and is said by mons. de sade, in his memoires pour la vie de petrarque, "to have done in england what petrarch did all his life in france, italy, and germany, towards the discovery of mss. of the best ancient writers, and making copies of them under his own superintendence." his passion for book-collecting was unbounded ["vir ardentis ingenii," says petrarch of him]; and in order to excite the same ardour in his countrymen, or rather to propagate the disease of the bibliomania with all his might, he composed a bibliographical work under the title of _philobiblion_; concerning the first edition of which, printed at spires in , clement (tom. v. ) has a long gossiping account; and morhof tells us that it is "rarissima et in paucorum manibus versatur." it was reprinted in paris in , to., by the elder ascensius, and frequently in the subsequent century, but the best editions of it are those by goldastus in , vo., and hummius in . morhof observes that, "however de bury's work savours of the rudeness of the age, it is rather elegantly written, and many things are well said in it relating to bibliothecism." _polyhist. literar._ vol. i. , edit. . for further particulars concerning de bury, read bale, wharton, cave, and godwin's episcopal biography. he left behind him a fine library of mss. which he bequeathed to durham, now trinity, college, oxford. it may be worth the antiquary's notice, that, in consequence (i suppose) of this amiable prelate's exertions, "in every convent was a noble library and a great: and every friar, that had state in school, such as they be now, hath an hugh library." see the curious sermon of the archbishop of armagh, nov. , , in trevisa's works among the _harleian mss._ no. . whether these friars, thus affected with the frensy of book-collecting, ever visited the "old chapelle at the est end of the church of s. saink [berkshire], whither of late time resorted in pilgrimage many folkes for the disease of _madness_," [see leland's _itinerary_, vol. ii. , edit. ] i have not been able, after the most diligent investigation, to ascertain.] [footnote : the british museum contains a great number of books which bear the royal stamp of henry vii.'s arms. some of these printed by verard, upon vellum, are magnificent memorials of a library, the dispersion of which is for ever to be regretted. as henry viii. knew nothing of, and cared less for, fine books, it is not very improbable that some of the choicest volumes belonging to the late king were presented to cardinal wolsey.] during the reign of henry viii., i should suppose that the earl of surrey[ ] and sir thomas wyatt were a little attached to book-collecting; and that dean colet[ ] and his friend sir thomas more and erasmus were downright bibliomaniacs. there can be little doubt but that neither the great leland[ ] nor his biographer bale,[ ] were able to escape the contagion; and that, in the ensuing period, rogar [transcriber's note: roger] ascham became notorious for the book-disease. he purchased probably, during his travels abroad[ ] many a fine copy of the greek and latin classics, from which he read to his illustrious pupils, lady jane grey, and queen elizabeth: but whether he made use of an _editio princeps_, or a _large paper copy_, i have hitherto not been lucky enough to discover. this learned character died in the vigour of life, and in the bloom of reputation: and, as i suspect, in consequence of the bibliomania--for he was always collecting books, and always studying them. his "schoolmaster" is a work which can only perish with our language. [footnote : the earl of surrey and sir thomas wyatt were among the first who taught their countrymen to be charmed with the elegance and copiousness of their own language. how effectually they accomplished this laudable object, will be seen from the forthcoming beautiful and complete edition of their works by the rev. dr. nott.[b]] [footnote b: it fell to the lot of the printer of this volume, during his apprenticeship to his father, to correct the press of nearly the whole of dr. nott's labours, which were completed, after several years of toil, when in the extensive conflagration of the printing-office at bolt court, fleet-street, in , all but _two_ copies were totally destroyed!] [footnote : colet, more, and erasmus [considering the latter when he was in england] were _here_ undoubtedly the great literary triumvirate of the early part of the th century. the lives of more and erasmus are generally read and known; but of dean colet it may not be so generally known that his ardour for books and for classical literature was keen, and insatiable; that, in the foundation of st. paul's school, he has left behind a name which entitles him to rank in the foremost of those who have fallen victims to the bibliomania. how anxiously does he seem to have watched the progress, and pushed the sale, of his friend erasmus's first edition of the greek testament! "quod scribis de novo testamento intelligo. et libri _novæ editionis tuæ hic avide emuntur et passim leguntur_!" the entire epistle (which may be seen in dr. knight's dry life of colet, p. ) is devoted to an account of erasmus's publications. "i am really astonished, my dear erasmus [does he exclaim], at the fruitfulness of your talents; that, without any fixed residence, and with a precarious and limited income, you contrive to publish so many and such excellent works." adverting to the distracted state of germany at this period, and to the wish of his friend to live secluded and unmolested, he observes--"as to the tranquil retirement which you sigh for, be assured that you have my sincere wishes for its rendering you as happy and composed as you can wish it. your age and erudition entitle you to such a retreat. i fondly hope, indeed, that you will choose this country for it, and come and live amongst us, whose disposition you know, and whose friendship you have proved." there is hardly a more curious picture of the custom of the times, relating to the education of boys, than the dean's own statutes for the regulation of st. paul's school, which he had founded. these shew, too, the _popular books_ then read by the learned. "the children shall come unto the school in the morning at seven of the clock, both winter and summer, and tarry there until eleven; and return against one of the clock, and depart at five, &c. in the school, no time in the year, they shall use tallow candle in no wise, but _only wax candle_, at the costs of their friends. also i will they bring no meat nor drink, nor bottle, nor use in the school no breakfasts, nor drinkings, in the time of learning, in no wise, &c. i will they use no cockfightings, nor riding about of victory, nor disputing at saint bartholomew, which is but foolish babbling and loss of time." the master is then restricted, under the penalty of shillings, from granting the boys a holiday, or "remedy," [play-day,] as it is here called "except the king, an archbishop, or a bishop, present in his own person in the school, desire it." the studies for the lads were, "erasmus's copia & institutum christiani hominis (composed at the dean's request) lactantius, prudentius, juvencus, proba and sedulius, and baptista mantuanus, and such other as shall be thought convenient and most to purpose unto the true latin speech: all barbary, all corruption, all latin adulterate, which ignorant blind fools brought into this world, and with the same hath distained and poisoned the old latin speech, and the _veray_ roman tongue, which in the time of tully and sallust and virgil and terence was used--i say that filthiness, and all such abusion, which the later blind world brought in, which more rather may be called _bloterature_ that [transcriber's note: than] _literature_, i utterly banish and exclude out of this school." _life of knight's colet_, - . what was to be expected, but that boys, thus educated, would hereafter fall victims to the bibliomania?] [footnote : the history of this great men [transcriber's note: man], and of his literary labours, is most interesting. he was a pupil of william lilly, the first head-master of st. paul's school; and, by the kindness and liberality of a mr. myles, he afterwards received the advantage of a college education, and was supplied with money in order to travel abroad, and make such collections as he should deem necessary for the great work which even then seemed to dawn upon his young and ardent mind. leland endeavoured to requite the kindness of his benefactor by an elegant copy of latin verses, in which he warmly expatiates on the generosity of his patron, and acknowledges that his acquaintance with the _almæ matres_ [for he was of both universities] was entirely the result of such beneficence. while he resided on the continent, he was admitted into the society of the most eminent greek and latin scholars, and could probably number among his correspondents the illustrious names of budæus, erasmus, the stephani, faber and turnebus. here, too, he cultivated his natural taste for poetry; and from inspecting the fine books which the italian and french presses had produced, as well as fired by the love of grecian learning, which had fled, on the sacking of constantinople, to take shelter in the academic bowers of the medici, he seems to have matured his plans for carrying into effect the great work which had now taken full possession of his mind. he returned to england, resolved to institute an inquiry into the state of the libraries, antiquities, records and writings then in existence. having entered into holy orders, and obtained preferment at the express interposition of the king, (henry viii.), he was appointed his antiquary and library keeper, and a royal commission was issued in which leland was directed to search after "england's antiquities, and peruse the libraries of all cathedrals, abbies, priories, colleges, etc., as also all the places wherein records, writings, and secrets of antiquity were reposited." "before leland's time," says hearne, in the preface to the itinerary, "all the literary monuments of antiquity were totally disregarded; and students of germany, apprised of this culpable indifference, were suffered to enter our libraries unmolested, and to cut out of the books deposited there whatever passages they thought proper--which they afterwards published as relics of the ancient literature of their own country." leland was occupied, without intermission, in this immense undertaking, for the space of six years; and, on its completion, he hastened to the metropolis to lay at the feet of his sovereign the result of his researches. this was presented to henry under the title of a new year's gift; and was first published by bale in , vo. "being inflamed," says the author, "with a love to see thoroughly all those parts of your opulent and ample realm, in so much that all my other occupations intermitted, i have so travelled in your dominions, both by the sea coasts and the middle parts, sparing neither labour nor costs, by the space of six years past, that there is neither cape nor bay, haven, creek, or pier, river, or confluence of rivers, breeches, wastes, lakes, moors, fenny waters, mountains, vallies, heaths, forests, chases, woods, cities, burghes, castles, principal manor places, monasteries and colleges, but i have seen them; and noted, in so doing, a whole world of things very memorable." leland moreover tells his majesty--that "by his laborious journey and costly enterprise, he had conserved many good authors, the which otherwise had been like to have perished; of the which, part remained in the royal palaces, part also in his own custody, &c." as leland was engaged six years in this literary tour, so he was occupied for a no less period of time in digesting and arranging the prodigious number of mss. he had collected. but he sunk beneath the immensity of the task! the want of amanuenses, and of other attentions and comforts, seems to have deeply affected him; in this melancholy state, he wrote to archbishop cranmer a latin epistle, in verse, of which the following is the commencement--very forcibly describing his situation and anguish of mind. est congesta mihi domi supellex ingens, aurea, nobilis, venusta qua totus studeo britanniarum vero reddere gloriam nitori. sed fortuna meis noverca coeptis jam felicibus invidet maligna. quare, ne pereant brevi vel hora multarum mihi noctium labores omnes---- cranmere, eximium decus piorum! implorare tuam benignitatem cogor. the result was that leland lost his senses; and, after lingering two years in a state of total derangement, he died on the th of april, . "prôh tristes rerum humanarum vices! prôh viri optimi deplorandam infelicissimamque sortem!" exclaims dr. smith, in his preface to camden's life, , to. the precious and voluminous mss. of leland were doomed to suffer a fate scarcely less pitiable than that of their owner. after being pilfered by some, and garbled by others, they served to replenish the pages of stow, lambard, camden, burton, dugdale, and many other antiquaries and historians. polydore virgil, who had stolen from them pretty freely, had the insolence to abuse leland's memory--calling him "a vain glorious man;" but what shall we say to this flippant egotist? who, according to caius's testimony [_de antiq. cantab. head. lib._ .] "to prevent a discovery of the many errors of his own history of england, collected and burnt a greater number of ancient histories and manuscripts than would have loaded a waggon." the imperfect remains of leland's mss. are now deposited in the bodleian library, and in the british museum. upon the whole, it must be acknowledged that leland is a melancholy, as well as illustrious, example of the influence of the bibliomania!] [footnote : in spite of bale's coarseness, positiveness, and severity, he has done much towards the cause of learning; and, perhaps, towards the propagation of the disease under discussion. his regard for leland does him great honour; and although his plays are miserably dull, notwithstanding the high prices which the original editions of them bear, (vide ex. gr. cat. steevens, no. ; which was sold for £ _s._ see also the reprints in the harleian miscellany) the lover of literary antiquities must not forget that his "_scriptores britanniæ_" are yet quoted with satisfaction by some of the most respectable writers of the day. that he wanted delicacy of feeling, and impartiality of investigation, must be admitted; but a certain rough honesty and prompt benevolence which he had about him compensated for a multitude of offences. the abhorrence with which he speaks of the dilapidation of some of our old libraries must endear his memory to every honest bibliographer: "never (says he) had we been offended for the loss of our libraries, being so many in number, and in so desolate places for the more part, if the chief monuments and most notable works of our excellent writers had been reserved. if there had been in every shire of england, but one solempne library, to the preservation of those noble works, and preferment of good learning in our posterity, it had been yet somewhat. but to destroy all without consideration, is, and will be, unto england for ever, a most horrible infamy among the grave seniors of other nations. a great number of them which purchased those superstitious mansions, reserved of those library-books, some to serve the _jakes_, some to scour their candlesticks, and some to rub their boots: some they sold to the grocers and soap-sellers; some they sent over sea to the book-binders, not in small number, but at times whole ships full, to the wondering of the foreign nations. yea, the universities of this realm are not all clear of this detestable fact. but cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gain, and shameth his natural country. i know a merchant man, which shall at this time be nameless, that _bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings price_; a shame it is to be spoken! this stuff hath he occupied in the stead of grey paper, by the space of more than ten years, and yet he hath store enough for as many year to come!" bale's preface to leland's "_laboryouse journey_, &c." emprented at london by john bale. anno m.d. xlix. vo. after this, who shall doubt the story of the alexandrian library supplying the hot baths of alexandria with fuel for six months! see gibbon on the latter subject; vol. ix. .] [footnote : ascham's english letter, written when he was abroad, will be found at the end of bennet's edition of his works, in to. they are curious and amusing. what relates to the bibliomania i here select from similar specimens. "oct. . at afternoon i went about the town [of bruxelles]. i went to the frier [transcriber's note: friar] carmelites house, and heard their even song: after, i desired to see the library. a frier [transcriber's note: friar] was sent to me, and led me into it. there was not one good book but _lyra_. the friar was learned, spoke latin readily, entered into greek, having a very good wit, and a greater desire to learning. he was gentle and honest, &c." p. - . "oct. . to spira: a good city. here i first saw _sturmius de periodis_. i also found here _ajax_, _electra_, and _antigone sophocles_, excellently, by my good judgment, translated into verse, and fair printed this summer by gryphius. your stationers do ill, that at least do 'not provide you the register of all books, especially of old authors, &c.'" p. . again: "hieronimus wolfius, that translated demosthenes and isocrates, is in this town. i am well acquainted with him, and have brought him twice to my lord's to dinner. he looks very simple. he telleth me that one borrheus, that hath written well upon aristot. priorum, &c., even now is printing goodly commentaries upon aristotle's rhetoric. but sturmius will obscure them all." p. . it is impossible to read these extracts without being convinced that roger ascham was a book-hunter, and infected with the bibliomania!] if we are to judge from the beautiful missal lying open before lady jane grey, in mr. copley's elegant picture now exhibiting at the british institution, it would seem rational to infer that this amiable and learned female was slightly attacked by the disease. it is to be taken for granted that queen elizabeth was not exempt from it; and that her great secretary,[ ] cecil, sympathised with her! in regard to elizabeth, her _prayer-book_[ ] is quite evidence sufficient for me that she found the bibliomania irresistible! during her reign, how vast and how frightful were the ravages of the book-madness! if we are to credit laneham's celebrated letter, it had extended far into the country, and infected some of the worthy inhabitants of coventry; for one "captain cox,[ ] by profession a mason, and that right skilful," had "as fair a library of sciences, and as many goodly monuments both in prose and poetry, and at afternoon could talk as much without book, as any innholder betwixt brentford and bagshot, what degree soever he be!" [footnote : it is a question which requires more time for the solution than i am able to spare, whether cecil's name stands more frequently at the head of a dedication, in a printed book, or of state papers and other political documents in ms. he was a wonderful man; but a little infected--as i suspect--with the book-disease. ----famous cicill, treasurer of the land, whose wisedom, counsell, skill of princes state the world admires---- the house itselfe doth shewe the owners wit, and may for bewtie, state, and every thing, compared be with most within the land. _tale of two swannes_, . _to._ i have never yet been able to ascertain whether the owner's attachment towards vellum, or large paper, copies was the more vehement!] [footnote : perhaps this conclusion is too precipitate. but whoever looks at elizabeth's portrait, on her bended knees, struck off on the reverse of the title page to her prayer book (first printed in ) may suppose that the queen thought the addition of her own portrait would be no mean decoration to the work. every page is adorned with borders, engraved on wood, of the most spirited execution: representing, amongst other subjects, "the dance of death." my copy is the reprint of --in high preservation. i have no doubt that there was a _presentation_ copy printed upon vellum; but in what cabinet does this precious gem now slumber?] [footnote : laneham gives a splendid list of romances and old ballads possessed by this said captain cox; and tells us, moreover, that "he had them all at his fingers ends." among the ballads we find "broom broom on hil; so wo is me begon twlly lo; over a whinny meg; hey ding a ding; bony lass upon green; my bony on gave me a bek; by a bank as i lay; and two more he had fair wrapt up in parchment, and bound with a whip cord." edit. , p. - - . ritson, in his historical essay on _scottish song_, speaks of some of these, with a zest, as if he longed to untie the "whip-cord" packet.] while the country was thus giving proofs of the prevalence of this disorder, the two harringtons (especially the younger)[ ] and the illustrious spenser[ ] were unfortunately seized with it in the metropolis. [footnote : sir john harrington, knt. sir john, and his father john harrington, were very considerable literary characters in the th century; and whoever has been fortunate enough to read through mr. park's new edition of the _nugæ antiquæ_, , vo., will meet with numerous instances in which the son displays considerable bibliographical knowledge--especially in _italian_ literature; harrington and spenser seem to have been the matthias and roscoe of the day. i make no doubt but that the former was as thoroughly acquainted with the _vera edizione_ of the giuntæ edition of boccaccio's decamerone, , to., as either haym, orlandi, or bandini. paterson, with all his skill, was mistaken in this article when he catalogued croft's books. see bibl. crofts. no. : his true edition was knocked down for _s._!!!] [footnote : spenser's general acquaintance with italian literature has received the best illustration in mr. todd's variorum edition of the poet's works; where the reader will find, in the notes, a constant succession of anecdotes of, and references to, the state of anterior and contemporaneous literature, foreign and domestic.] in the seventeenth century, from the death of elizabeth to the commencement of anne's reign, it seems to have made considerable havoc; yet, such was our blindness to it that we scrupled not to engage in overtures for the purchase of isaac vossius's[ ] fine library, enriched with many treasures from the queen of sweden's, which this versatile genius scrupled not to pillage without confession or apology. during this century our great reasoners and philosophers began to be in motion; and, like the fumes of tobacco, which drive the concealed and clotted insects from the interior to the extremity of the leaves, the infectious particles of the bibliomania set a thousand busy brains a-thinking, and produced ten thousand capricious works, which, over-shadowed by the majestic remains of bacon, locke, and boyle, perished for want of air, and warmth, and moisture. [footnote : "the story is extant, and written in very choice _french_." consult chauffepié's _supplement to bayle's dictionary_, vol. iv. p. . note q. vossius's library was magnificent and extensive. the university of leyden offered not less than , florins for it. _idem._ p. .] the reign of queen anne was not exempt from the influence of this disease; for during this period, maittaire[ ] began to lay the foundation of his extensive library, and to publish some bibliographical works which may be thought to have rather increased, than diminished, its force. meanwhile, harley[ ] earl of oxford watched its progress with an anxious eye; and although he might have learnt experience from the fatal examples of r. smith,[ ] and t. baker,[ ] and the more recent ones of thomas rawlinson,[ ] bridges,[ ] and collins,[ ] yet he seemed resolved to brave and to baffle it; but, like his predecessors, he was suddenly crushed within the gripe of the demon, and fell one of the most splendid of his victims. even the unrivalled medical skill of mead[ ] could save neither his friend nor himself. the doctor survived his lordship about twelve years; dying of the complaint called the bibliomania! he left behind an illustrious character; sufficient to flatter and soothe those who may tread in his footsteps, and fall victims to a similar disorder. [footnote : of michael maittaire i have given a brief sketch in my introduction to the _greek and latin classics_, vol. i, . mr. beloe, in the rd vol. of his _anecdotes of literature_, p. ix., has described his merits with justice. the principal value of maittaire's _annales typographici_ consists in a great deal of curious matter detailed in the notes; but the absence of the "lucidus ordo" renders the perusal of these fatiguing and dissatisfactory. the author brought a full and well-informed mind to the task he undertook--but he wanted taste and precision in the arrangement of his materials. the eye wanders over a vast indigested mass; and information, when it is to be acquired with excessive toil, is, comparatively, seldom acquired. panzer has adopted an infinitely better plan, on the model of orlandi; and, if his materials had been _printed_ with the same beauty with which they appear to have been composed, and his annals had descended to as late a period as those of maittaire, his work must have made us, eventually, forget that of his predecessor. the bibliographer is, no doubt, aware that of maittaire's first volume there are two editions. why the author did not reprint, in the second edition ( ), the facsimile of the epigram and epistle of lascar prefixed to the edition of the anthology , and the disquisition concerning the ancient editions of quintilian (both of which were in the first edition of ), is absolutely inexplicable. maittaire was sharply attacked for this absurdity, in the "catalogus auctorum," of the "_annus tertius sæcularis inv. art. topog._" harlem, , vo. p. . "rara certe librum augendi methodus (exclaims the author)! satis patet auctorem hoc eo fecisse consilio, ut et primæ et secundæ libri sive editioni pretium suum constaret, et una æque ac altera lectoribus necessaria esset." the catalogue of maittaire's library [ , parts, vo.], which affords ample proof of the bibliomania of its collector, is exceedingly scarce. a good copy of it, even unpriced, is worth a guinea: it was originally sold for shillings; and was drawn up by maittaire himself.] [footnote : in a periodical publication called "_the director_," to which i contributed under the article of "_bibliographiana_" (and of which the printer of this work, mr. william savage, is now the sole publisher), there was rather a minute analysis of the famous library of harley, earl of oxford: a library which seems not only to have revived, but eclipsed, the splendour of the roman one formed by lucullus. the following is an abridgement of this analysis: volumes. . divinity: _greek, latin, french and italian_--about ---- _english_ . history and antiquities . books of prints, sculpture, and drawings-- _twenty thousand drawings and prints._ _ten thousand portraits._ . philosophy, chemistry, medicine, &c. . geography, chronology, general history . voyages and travels . law . sculpture and architecture . greek and latin classics . books printed upon vellum . english poetry, romances, &c. . french and spanish do. . parliamentary affairs . trade and commerce . miscellaneous subjects . pamphlets--_four hundred thousand_! mr. gough says, these books "filled thirteen handsome chambers, and two long galleries." osborne the bookseller purchased them for £ , : a sum little more than two thirds of the price of the binding, as paid by lord oxford. the bookseller was accused of injustice and parsimony; but the low prices which he afterwards affixed to the articles, and the tardiness of their sale, are sufficient refutations of this charge. osborne opened his shop for the inspection of the books on tuesday the th of february, ; for fear "of the curiosity of the spectators, before the sale, producing disorder in the disposition of the books." the dispersion of the harleian collection is a blot in the literary annals of our country: had there then been such a speaker, and such a spirit in the house of commons, as we now possess, the volumes of harley would have been reposing with the marbles of townley!] [footnote : "bibliotheca smithiana: sive catalogus librorum in quavis facultate insigniorum, quos in usum suum et bibliothecæ ornamentum multo ære sibi comparavit vir clarissimus doctissimusque d. richardus smith, &c., londini, ," to. i recommend the collector of curious and valuable catalogues to lay hold upon the present one (of which a more particular description will be given in another work) whenever it comes in his way. the address "to the reader," in which we are told that "this so much celebrated, so often desired, so long expected, library is now exposed to sale," gives a very interesting account of the owner. inter alia, we are informed that mr. smith "was as constantly known every day to walk his rounds through the shops, as to sit down to his meals, &c.;" and that "while others were forming arms, and new-modelling kingdoms, _his_ great ambition was to become master of a good book." the catalogue itself justifies every thing said in commendation of the collector of the library. the arrangement is good; the books, in almost all departments of literature, foreign and domestic, valuable and curious; and among the english ones i have found some of the rarest caxtons to refer to in my edition of ames. what would mr. bindley, or mr. malone, or mr. douce, give to have the _creaming_ of such a collection of "bundles of stitcht books and pamphlets," as extends from page to of this catalogue! but alas! while the bibliographer exults in, or hopes for, the possession of such treasures, the physiologist discovers therein fresh causes of disease, and the philanthropist mourns over the ravages of the bibliomania!] [footnote : consult masters's "_memoirs of the life and writings of the late rev._ thomas baker," camb. , vo. let any person examine the catalogue of _forty-two_ folio volumes of "ms. collections by mr. baker," (as given at the end of this piece of biography) and reconcile himself, if he can, to the supposition that the said mr. baker did not fall a victim to the _book-disease_! for some cause, i do not now recollect what, baker took his name off the books of st. john's college, cambridge, to which he belonged; but such was his attachment to the place, and more especially to the library, that he spent a great portion of the ensuing twenty years of his life within the precincts of the same: frequently comforted and refreshed, no doubt, by the sight of the magnificent large paper copies of walton and castell, and of cranmer's bible upon vellum!] [footnote : this thomas rawlinson, who is introduced in the tatler under the name _tom folio_, was a very extraordinary character, and most desperately addicted to book-hunting. because his own house was not large enough, he hired _london house_, in aldersgate street, for the reception of his library; and here he used to regale himself with the sight and the scent of innumerable black letter volumes, arranged in "sable garb," and stowed perhaps "three deep," from the bottom to the top of his house. he died in ; and catalogues of his books for sale continued, for nine succeeding years, to meet the public eye. the following is a list of all the parts which i have ever met with; taken from copies in mr. heber's possession. _part_ . _a catalogue of choice and valuable books in most faculties and languages_: being the sixth part of the collection made by thos. rawlinson, esq., &c., to be sold on thursday, the d day of march, ; beginning every evening at of the clock, by charles davis, bookseller. qui non credit, eras credat. ex autog. t.r. . _bibliotheca rawlinsoniana_; sive delectus librorum in omni ferè linguâ et facultate præstantium--to be sold on wednesday th april, [ ] by charles davis, bookseller. numbers. . _the same_: january - . by thomas ballard, bookseller, numbers. . _the same_: march, - . by the same. numbers. . _the same_: october, . by the same. numbers. . _the same_: november, . by the same. numbers. . _the same_: april, . by the same. numbers. . _the same_: november, . by the same. numbers. . _the same_: [of rawlinson's manuscripts] by the same. march - . numbers. . _picturæ rawlinsonianæ._ april, . articles. at the end, it would seem that a catalogue of his prints, and mss. missing in the last sale, were to be published the ensuing winter. n.b. the black-letter books are catalogued in the gothic letter.] [footnote : "bibliothecÆ bridgesianÆ catalogus: or, a catalogue of the entire library of john bridges, late of _lincoln's inn_, esq., &c., which will begin to be sold, by auction, on monday the seventh day of february, - , at his chambers in _lincoln's inn_, no. ." from a priced copy of this sale catalogue, in my possession, once belonging to nourse, the bookseller in the strand, i find that the following was the produce of the sale: the amount of the books £ prints and books of prints ----------- total amount of the sale £ two different catalogues of this valuable collection of books were printed. the one was analysed, or a _catalogue raisonné_; to which was prefixed a print of a grecian portico, &c., with ornaments and statues: the other (expressly for the sale) was an indigested and extremely confused one--to which was prefixed a print, designed and engraved by a. motte, of an oak felled, with a number of men cutting down and carrying away its branches; illustrative of the following greek motto inscribed on a scroll above--[greek: dryos pesousês pas anêr xyleuetai]: "an affecting memento (says mr. nichols, very justly, in his _anecdotes of bowyer_, p. ) to the collectors of great libraries, who cannot, or do not, leave them to some public accessible repository."] [footnote : in the year - , there was sold by auction, at st. paul's coffee-house, in st. paul's church-yard (beginning every evening at five o'clock), the library of the celebrated free-thinker, anthony collins, esq. "containing a collection of several thousand volumes in greek, latin, english, french, and spanish; in divinity, history, antiquity, philosophy, husbandry, and all polite literature: and especially many curious travels and voyages; and many rare and valuable pamphlets." this collection, which is divided into _two parts_ (the first containing articles, the second ), is well worthy of being consulted by the theologian, who is writing upon any controverted point of divinity: there are articles in it of the rarest occurrence. the singular character of its owner and of his works is well known: he was at once the friend and the opponent of locke and clarke, who were both anxious for the conversion of a character of such strong, but misguided, talents. the former, on his death-bed, wrote collins a letter to be delivered to him, after his decease, which was full of affection and good advice.] [footnote : it is almost impossible to dwell on the memory of this great man without emotions of delight--whether we consider him as an eminent physician, a friend to literature, or a collector of books, pictures, and coins. benevolence, magnanimity, and erudition were the striking features of his character: his house was the general receptacle of men of genius and talent, and of every thing beautiful, precious, or rare. his curiosities, whether books, or coins, or pictures, were freely laid open to the public; and the enterprising student, and experienced antiquary, alike found amusement and a courteous reception. he was known to all foreigners of intellectual distinction, and corresponded both with the artisan and the potentate. the great patron of literature, and the leader of his profession (which he practised with a success unknown before), it was hardly possible for unbefriended merit, if properly introduced to him, to depart unrewarded. the clergy, and in general, all men of learning, received his advice _gratuitously_: and his doors were open every morning to the _most indigent_, whom he frequently assisted with money. although his income, from his professional practice, was very considerable, he died by no means a rich man--so large were the sums which he devoted to the encouragement of literature and the fine arts! the sale of dr. mead's _books_ commenced on the th of november, , and again on the th of april, : lasting together days. the sale of the _prints_ and _drawings_ continued nights. the _gems_, _bronzes_, _busts_, and _antiquities_, days. his books produced £ pictures prints and drawings coins and medals antiquities -------------- amount of all the sales £ , it would be difficult to mention, within a moderate compass, all the rare and curious articles which his library contained--but the following are too conspicuous to be passed over. the _spira virgil_ of , _pfintzing's tewrkdrancs_, , _brandt's stultifera navis_, , and the _aldine petrarch_ of , all upon vellum. the large paper _olivet's cicero_ was purchased by dr. askew for £ _s._ and was sold again at his sale for £ _s._ the king of france bought the editio princeps of _pliny senr._ for £ _s._; and mr. willock, a bookseller, bought the magnificently illuminated _pliny by jenson_ of , for £ _s._: of which maittaire has said so many fine things. the _french_ books, and all the works upon the _fine arts_, were of the first rarity, and value, and bound in a sumptuous manner. winstanley's _prospects of audley end_ brought £ . an amusing account of some of the pictures will be found in mr. beloe's "_anecdotes of literature and scarce books_," vol. i. . . but consult also _nichol's anecdotes of bowyer_, p. , &c. of the catalogue of dr. mead's books there were only six copies printed on large paper. see bibl. lort, no. .] the years - were singularly remarkable for the mortality excited by the bibliomania; and the well known names of folkes,[ ] and rawlinson,[ ] might have supplied a modern holbein a hint for the introduction of a new subject in the "_dance of death_." the close of george the second's reign witnessed another instance of the fatality of this disease. henley[ ] "bawled till he was hoarse" against the cruelty of its attack; while his library has informed posterity how severely and how mortally he suffered from it. [footnote : "a catalogue of the entire and valuable library of martin folkes, esq., president of the royal society, and member of the royal academy of sciences at paris, lately deceased; which will be sold by auction by samuel baker, at his house, in york street, covent garden. to begin on monday, february , , and to continue for forty days successively (sundays excepted). catalogues to be had at most of the considerable places in europe, and all the booksellers of great britain and ireland, price sixpence." this collection was an exceedingly fine one; enriched with many books of the choicest description, which mr. folkes had acquired in his travels in italy and germany. the works on natural history, coins, medals, and inscriptions, and on the fine arts in general, formed the most valuable department--those in the greek, latin and english classics, were comparatively of inferior importance. it is a great pity the catalogue was not better digested; or the books classed according to the nature of their contents. the following prices, for some of the more rare and interesting articles, will amuse a bibliographer of the present day. the chronicles of fabian, hall, and grafton, did not altogether bring quite £ : though the copies are described as perfect and fair. there seems to have been a fine set of sir wm. dugdale's works (nos. - ) in vols. which, collectively, produced about guineas. in _spanish literature_, the history of south america, by don juan and ant. di ulloa, madr. fol. in vols., was sold for £ : a fine large paper copy of the description of the monastery of st. lorenzo, and the escorial, madr. , brought £ _s._: de lastanosa's spanish medals, huesca, fol. , £ _s._ in _english_, the first edition of shakespeare, , which is now what a french bibliographer would say "presque introuvable," produced the sum of £ _s._; and fuller's worthies, _s._! _fine arts, antiquities, and voyages._ sandrart's works, in folio volumes (of which a fine perfect copy is now rarely to be met with, and of very great value) were sold for £ _s._ only: desgodetz roman edifices, paris, , £ _s._: galleria giustiniano, vols., fol. £ _s._ le brun's voyages in muscovy, &c., in large paper, £ _s._ de rossi's raccolta de statue, &c. rom. , £ _s._ medailles du regne de louis le grand, de l'imp. roy. . p. fol. , £ _s._ _d._ the works on _natural history_ brought still higher prices; but the whole, from the present depreciation of specie, and increased rarity of the articles, would now bring thrice the sums then given. of the _greek and latin classics_, the pliny of and were sold to dr. askew for £ _s._ and £ _s._ _d._ at the doctor's sale they brought £ and £ : although the first was lately sold (a.d. ) among some duplicates of books belonging to the british museum, at a much lower price: the copy was, in fact, neither large nor beautiful. those in the hunter and cracherode collections are greatly superior, and would each bring more than double the price. from a priced copy of the sale catalogue, in my possession, i find that the amount of the sale, consisting of articles, was £ _s._ the _prints and drawings_ of mr. folkes occupied a sale of days; and his _pictures_, _gems_, _coins_, and _mathematical instruments_, of five days. mr. martin folkes may justly be ranked among the most useful, as well as splendid, literary characters of which this country can boast. he appears to have imbibed, at a very early age, an extreme passion for science and literature; and to have distinguished himself so much at the university of cambridge, under the able tuition of dr. laughton, that, in his rd year, he was admitted a fellow of the royal society. about two years afterwards he was chosen one of the council, and rose, in gradual succession, to the chair of the presidentship, which he filled with a credit and celebrity that has since never been surpassed. on this occasion he was told by dr. jurin, the secretary, who dedicated to him the th vol. of the transactions, that "the greatest man that ever lived (sir isaac newton) singled him out to fill the chair, and to preside in the society, when he himself was so frequently prevented by indisposition: and that it was sufficient to say of him that he was _sir isaac's friend_." within a few years after this, he was elected president of the society of antiquaries. two situations, the filling of which may be considered as the _ne plus ultra_ of literary distinction. mr. folkes travelled abroad, with his family, about two years and a half, visiting the cities of rome, florence, and venice--where he was noticed by almost every person of rank and reputation, and whence he brought away many a valuable article to enrich his own collection. he was born in the year , and died of a second stroke of the palsy, under which he languished for three years, in . dr. birch has drawn a very just and interesting character of this eminent man, which may be found in nichol's _anecdotes of bowyer_, . . mr. edwards, the late ornithologist, has described him in a simple, but appropriate, manner. "he seemed," says he, "to have attained to universal knowledge; for, in the many opportunities i have had of being in his company, almost every part of science has happened to be the subject of discourse, all of which he handled as an adept. he was a man of great politeness in his manners, free from all pedantry and pride, and, in every respect, the real unaffected fine gentleman."] [footnote : "bibliotheca rawlinsoniana, sive catalogus librorum richardi rawlinson, ll.d. qui prostabunt venales sub hasta, apud samuelem baker. in vico dicto _york street, covent garden londini, die lunæ_, martii mdcclvi." this valuable library must have contained about , volumes; for the number of articles amounted to . on examining a priced catalogue of it, which now lies before me, i have not found any higher sum offered for a work than £ _s._ for a collection of fine prints, by aldegrave (no. ). the greek and latin classics, of which there were few _editiones principes_, or on _large paper_, brought the usual sums given at that period. the old english black-lettered books, which were pretty thickly scattered throughout the collection, were sold for exceedingly low prices--if the copies were perfect. witness the following: £ _s._ _d._ the newe testament in english, the ymage of both churches, after the revelation of st. john, by bale, the boke called the pype or tonne of perfection, by richard whytforde, the visions of pierce plowman, the creede of pierce plowman, the bookes of moses, in english, bale's actes of englishe votaryes, the boke of chivalrie, by caxton the boke of st. albans, by w. de worde these are only very few of the rare articles in english literature, of the whole of which (perhaps upwards of in number) i believe, the 'boke of st. albans,' brought the highest sum. hence it will be seen that this was not the age of curious research into the productions of our ancestors. shakspeare had not then appeared in a proper _variorum edition_. theobald, and pope, and warburton, had not investigated the black-letter lore of ancient english writers, for the illustration of their favourite author. this was reserved for farmer, for steevens, for malone, for chalmers, reed and douce: and it is expressly to these latter gentlemen (for johnson and hanmer were very sparing, or very shy, of the black letter), that we are indebted for the present spirit of research into the works of our ancestors. the sale of the books lasted days. there was a second sale of pamphlets, books of prints, &c., in the following year, which lasted days; and this was immediately succeeded by a sale of the doctor's single prints and drawings, which continued days.] [footnote : this gentleman's library, not so remarkable for the black letter as for whimsical publications, was sold by auction, by samuel paterson, [the earliest sale in which i find this well known book-auctioneer engaged] in june, , and the three ensuing evenings. the title of the sale catalogue is as follows: "a catalogue of the original mss. and manuscript collections of the late reverend mr. john henley, a.m., independent minister of the oratory, &c., in which are included sundry collections of the late mons. des maizeaux, the learned editor of bayle, &c., mr. lowndes, author of the report for the amendment of silver coins, &c., dr. patrick blair, physician at boston, and f.r.s. &c., together with original letters and papers of state, addressed to henry d'avenant, esq., her britannic majesty's envoy at francfort, from to inclusive." few libraries have contained more curious and remarkable publications than did this. the following articles, given as notable specimens, remind us somewhat of addison's memoranda for the spectator, which the waiter at the coffee-house picked up and read aloud for the amusement of the company. no. . god's manifestation by a star to the dutch. a mortifying fast diet at court. on the birth day of the first and oldest young gentleman. all corrupt: none good: no not one. no. . general thumbissimo. the spring reversed, or the flanderkin's opera and dutch pickle herrings. the creolean fillip, or royal mishap. a martial telescope, &c., england's passion sunday, and april changelings. no. . speech upon speech. a telescope for tournay. no battle, but worse, and the true meaning of it. an army beaten and interred. no. . signs when the p. will come. was captain sw----n a prisoner on parole, to be catechised? david's opinion of like times. the seeds of the plot may rise, though the leaves fall. a perspective, from the blair of athol, the pretender's popery. murder! fire! where! where! no. . taking carlisle, catching an eel by the tail. address of a bishop, dean and clergy. swearing to the p----r, &c., anathema denounced against those parents, masters, and magistrates, that do not punish the sin at stokesley. a speech, &c. a parallel between the rebels to k. charles i. and those to his successor. _jane cameron_ looked killing at _falkirk_. no. . let stocks be knighted, write, sir banks, &c. the ramhead month. a proof that the writers against popery fear it will be established in this kingdom. a scheme, wisely blabbed to root and branch the highlanders. let st. patrick have fair play, &c. of orator henley i have not been able to collect any biographical details more interesting than those which are to be found in warburton's notes to pope's dunciad.] we are now, my dear sir, descending rapidly to our own times; and, in a manner sufficiently rough, have traced the _history of the bibliomania_ to the commencement of the present illustrious reign: when we discover, among its victims, a general, who had probably faced many a cannon, and stormed many a rampart, uninjured. the name of dormer[ ] will remind you of the small but choice library which affords such a melancholy proof of its owners' fate; while the more splendid examples of smith[ ] and west[ ] serve to shew the increased ravages of a disease, which seemed to threaten the lives of all, into whose ears (like those of "visto,") some demon had "whispered" the sound of "taste." these three striking instances of the fatality of the bibliomania occurred--the first in the year ; and the latter in . the following year witnessed the sale of the fletewode[ ] library; so that nothing but despair and havoc appeared to move in the train of this pestiferous malady. in the year died the famous dr. anthony askew, another illustrious victim to the bibliomania. those who recollect the zeal and scholarship of this great book-collector, and the precious gems with which his library[ ] was stored from the cabinets of de boze and gaignat, as well as of mead and folkes, cannot but sigh with grief of heart on the thought of such a victim! how ardently, and how kindly [as i remember to have heard his friend dr. burges say], would askew unfold his glittering stores--open the magnificent folio, or the shining duodecimo, upon vellum, embossed and fast held together with golden knobs and silver clasps! how carefully would he unroll the curious ms.--decipher the half effaced characters--and then, casting an eye of ecstacy over the shelves upon which similar treasures were lodged, exult in the glittering prospect before him! but death--who, as horace tells us, raps equally at the palaces of kings and cottages of peasants, made no scruple to exercise the knocker of the doctor's door, and sent, as his avant-courier, this deplorable mania! it appeared; and even askew, with all his skill in medicine and books, fell lifeless before it--bewailed, as he was beloved and respected! [footnote : "a catalogue of the genuine and elegant library of the late sir c.c. dormer, collected by lieutenant-general james dormer, which will be sold, &c., by samuel baker, at his house in york street, covent garden; to begin on monday, february the th, , and to continue the nineteen following evenings." at the end of the catalogue we are told that the books were "in general of the best editions, and in the finest condition, many of them in _large paper_, bound in morocco, gilt leaves, &c." this was a very choice collection of books, consisting almost entirely of greek, latin, italian, spanish and french. the number of articles did not exceed , and of volumes, probably not . the catalogue is neatly printed, and copies of it on _large paper_ are exceedingly scarce. among the most curious and valuable articles were those numbered , , , ; from no. , to the end, was a choice collection of italian and spanish books.] [footnote : in the year was published at venice, printed by j.b. pasquali, a catalogue of the books of joseph smith, esq., consul at venice. the catalogue was published under the following latin title: "bibliotheca smitheana, seu catalogus librorum d. josephi smithii, angli, per cognomina authorum dispositus, venetiis, typis jo. baptistæ pasquali, m,dcclv.;" in quarto; with the arms of consul smith. the title page is succeeded by a latin preface of pasquali, and an alphabetical list of pages of the authors mentioned in the catalogue: then follow the books arranged alphabetically, without any regard to size, language, or subject. these occupy pages, marked with the roman numerals; after which are pages, numbered in the same manner, of "addenda et corrigenda." the most valuable part of the volume is "the prefaces and epistles prefixed to those works in the library which were printed in the th century:" these occupy pages. a catalogue, (in three pages) of the names of the illustrious men mentioned in these prefaces, &c., closes the book. it would be superfluous to mention to bibliographers the rare articles contained in this collection, which are so generally known and so justly appreciated. they consist chiefly of early editions of _italian_, _greek_, and _latin classics_; and of many copies of both printed upon vellum. the library, so rich in these articles, was, however, defective in english literature and antiquities. there was scarcely any thing of shakspeare or dugdale. on the death of mr. smith in , his collection was sold in , vo., by baker and leigh; and the books were announced to the public, as being "in the finest preservation, and consisting of the very best and scarcest editions of the latin, italian, and french authors, from the invention of printing; with manuscripts and missals, upon vellum, finely illuminated." a glance upon the prices for which most of these fine books were sold made mr. cuthell exclaim, in my hearing, that "_they were given away_." on these occasions, one cannot help now and then wishing, with father evander, "o mihi præteritos referat si jupiter annos!" on comparing pasquali's, with the sale, catalogue, it will be obvious that a great number of rare and valuable articles was disposed of before the books came to public auction. indeed it is known that his present majesty enriched his magnificent collection with many of the consul's _first editions_, and _vellum copies_, during the life of the latter. the sale continued thirteen days only; and on the last day were sold all the english books in the _black-letter_. some of these are rather curious. of consul smith i am unable to present the lover of virtu with any particulars more acceptable than the following. pasquali (whose latin preface is curious enough--abounding with as many interrogatories as hamlet's soliloquies) has told us that "as the consul himself was distinguished for his politeness, talents, and prudence, so was his house for splendid and elegant decorations. you might there view, says he, the most beautifully painted pictures, and exquisite ornaments, whether gems, vases, or engravings. in short, the whole furniture was so brilliant and classical that you admired at once the magnificence and judgment of the owner." he tells us, a little further, that he had frequently solicited the consul to print a catalogue of his books; which proposition his modesty at first induced him to reject; but, afterwards, his liberality, to comply with. he then observes that, "in the compilation of the catalogue, he has studied brevity as much as it was consistent with perspicuity; and that he was once desirous of stating the _value_ and _price_ of the books, but was dissuaded from it by the advice of the more experienced, and by the singular modesty of the collector." it must be confessed that pasquali has executed his task well, and that the catalogue ranks among the most valuable, as well as rare, books of the kind.] [footnote : "bibliotheca westiana; a catalogue of the curious and truly valuable library of the late james west, esq., president of the royal society, deceased, &c. including the works of caxton, lettou, machlinia, the anonymous st. albans schoolmaste [transcriber's note: schoolmaster], wynkyn de worde, pynson, and the rest of the old english typographers. digested by samuel paterson," , vo. analysis of the catalogue. . _volumes of miscellaneous tracts._ these volumes extend from no. to , from to , from to , and from no. to . . _divinity._ in the whole, articles; probably about volumes; some of them exceedingly scarce and valuable. . _education, languages, criticism, classics, dictionaries, catalogues of libraries, &c._ there were about volumes in these departments. the catalogues of english books, from that of maunsell, in , to the latest before mr. west's time, were very complete. the treatises on education and translations of the ancient classics comprehended a curious and uncommon collection. the greek and latin classics were rather select than rare. . _english poetry, romance, and miscellanies._ this interesting part of the collection comprehended about articles, or probably about volumes: and if the singularly rare and curious books which may be found _under these heads alone_ were now concentrated in one library, the owner of them might safely demand guineas for such a treasure. . _philosophy, mathematics, inventions, agriculture and horticulture, medicine, cookery, surgery, etc._ two hundred and forty articles, or about volumes. . _chemistry, natural history, astrology, sorcery, gigantology._ probably not more than volumes. . _history and antiquities._ this comprehended a great number of curious and valuable productions, relating both to foreign and domestic transactions. . _heraldry and genealogy._ a great number of curious and scarce articles may be found under these heads. . _ancient legends and chronicles._ to the english antiquary, few departments of literature are more interesting that these. mr. west seems to have paid particular attention to them, and to have enriched his library with many articles of this description, of the rarest occurrence. the lovers of caxton, fabian, hardyng, hall, grafton, and holinshed, may be highly gratified by inspecting the various editions of these old chroniclers. i entreat the diligent bibliographer to examine the first eight articles of page of the catalogue. alas, when will all these again come under the hammer at one sale?! . _topography._ even to a veteran, like the late mr. gough, such a collection as may be found from p. to p. of this catalogue, would be considered a first-rate acquisition. i am aware that the gothic wainscot, and stained glass windows, of _enfield study_ enshrined a still more exquisite topographical collection! but we are improved since the days of mr. west; and every body knows to _whom_ these improvements are, in a great measure, to be attributed. when i call to mind the author of '_british topography_' and '_sepulchral monuments_,' i am not insensible to the taste, diligence, and erudition of the "par nobile fratrum," who have gratified us with the '_environs of london_,' '_roman remains_,' and the first two volumes of '_magna britannia_!' the preceding is to be considered as a very general, and therefore superficial, analysis of the catalogue of mr. west's library; copies of it, with the sums for which the books were sold, are now found with difficulty, and bring a considerable price. i never saw or heard of one on large paper!] [footnote : "a catalogue of rare books and tracts in various languages and faculties; including the _ancient conventual library_ of missenden-abbey, in buckinghamshire; together with some choice remains of that of the late eminent serjeant at law, william fletewode, esq., recorder of london, in the reign of queen elizabeth; among which are several specimens of the earliest typography, foreign and english, including caxton, wynkyn de worde, pynson, and others; a fine collection of english poetry, some scarce old law-books, a great number of old english plays, several choice mss. upon vellum, and other subjects of literary curiosity. also several of the best editions of the classics, and modern english and french books. to begin _december_ , , and the following evenings, precisely at half an hour after five." i am in possession of a _priced catalogue_ of this collection, which once belonged to herbert, and which contains all the purchasers' names, as well as the sums given. the purchasers were principally herbert, garrick, dodd, elmsley, t. payne, richardson, chapman, wagstaff, bindley, and gough. the following is a specimen of some curious and interesting articles contained in this celebrated library, and of the prices for which they once sold! no. . _bale's brefe chronycle relating to syr johan oldecastell_, . the life off the th archbishopp off canterbury presentleye sittinge, , &c. life of hen. hills, printer to o. cromwell, _with the relation of what passed between him and the taylor's wife in black friars_, , _&c._ £ _s._ _d._ purchased by mores. nos. to . upwards of thirty _scarce theological tracts_, in latin and english nos. to . a fine collection of early english translations, in black letter, with some good foreign editions of the classics. not exceeding, in the whole nos. , . two copies of the _first edition_ of bacon's essays, ! the reader will just glance at no. , in the catalogue, en passant, to nos. (£ s.) and ( s.); but more particularly to no. . caxton's _boke of tulle of olde age_, &c. . purchased by the late mr. t. payne no. . caxton's _boke which is sayd or called cathon_, &c. . purchased by alchorn. no. . caxton's _doctrinal of sapyence_, purchased by alchorn. no. . caxton's _cordyal_, no. . wynkyn de worde's _ocharde of syon_, &c. . i will, however, only add that there were upwards of articles of _old plays_, mostly in quarto. see page . of _antiquities_, _chronicles_, and _topography_, it would be difficult to pitch upon the rarest volumes. the collection, including very few mss., contained articles, or probably nearly volumes. the catalogue is uncommon.] [footnote : i am now arrived, pursuing my chronological arrangement, at a very important period in the annals of book-sales. the name and collection of dr. askew are so well known in the bibliographical world that the reader need not be detained with laboured commendations on either: in the present place, however, it would be a cruel disappointment not to say a word or two by way of _preface_ or _prologue_. dr. anthony askew had eminently distinguished himself by a refined taste, a sound knowledge, and an indefatigable research relating to every thing connected with grecian and roman literature. it was to be expected, even during his life, as he was possessed of sufficient means to gratify himself with what was rare, curious, and beautiful in literature and the fine arts, that the public would, one day, be benefited by such pursuits: especially as he had expressed a wish that his treasures might be unreservedly submitted to sale, after his decease. in this wish the doctor was not singular. many eminent collectors had indulged it before him: and, to my knowledge, many modern ones still indulge it. accordingly on the death of dr. askew, in , appeared, in the ensuing year, a catalogue of his books for sale, by messrs. baker and leigh, under the following title: "bibliotheca askeviana, sive catalogus librorum rarissimorum antonii askew, m.d., quorum auctio fiet apud s. baker et g. leigh, in vico dicto _york street, covent garden_, londini. _die lunæ_, _februarii_, mdcclxxv, et in undeviginti sequentes dies." a few copies were struck off on large paper. we are told by the compiler of the catalogue that it was thought unnecessary to say much with respect to this library of the late dr. anthony askew, as the collector and collection were so well known in almost all parts of europe. afterwards it is observed that "the books in general are in very fine condition, many of them bound in morocco, and russia leather, with gilt leaves." "to give a particular account," continues the compiler, "of the _many scarce editions_ of books in this catalogue would be almost endless, therefore the _first editions_ of the classics, and some _extremely rare books_ are chiefly noticed. the catalogue, without any doubt, contains the best, rarest, and most valuable collection of greek and latin books that were ever sold in england." this account is not overcharged. the collection, in regard to greek and roman literature, was _unique_ in its day. the late worthy and learned mr. m. cracherode, whose library now forms one of the most splendid acquisitions of the british museum, and whose _bequest_ of it will immortalize his memory, was also among the "emptores literarii" at this renowned sale. he had enriched his collection with many _exemplar askevianum_; and, in his latter days, used to elevate his hands and eyes, and exclaim against the prices _now_ offered for editiones principes! the fact is, dr. askew's sale has been considered a sort of _æra_ in bibliography. since that period, rare and curious books in greek and latin literature have been greedily sought after, and obtained at most extravagant prices. it is very well for a veteran in bibliography, as was mr. cracherode, or as are mr. wodhull and dr. gosset, whose collections were formed in the days of gaignat, askew, duke de la valliere, and lamoignon--it is very well for such gentlemen to declaim against _modern prices_! but what is to be done? books grow scarcer every day, and the love of literature, and of possessing rare and interesting works, increases in an equal ratio. hungry bibliographers meet, at sales, with well furnished purses, and are resolved upon sumptuous fare. thus the hammer _vibrates_, after a bidding of _forty pounds_, where formerly it used regularly to _fall_ at _four_! but we lose sight of dr. askew's _rare editions_, and _large paper copies_. the following, gentle reader, is but an imperfect specimen! no. . chaucer's works, by pynson, no date £ _s._ _d._ no. . cicero of old age, by caxton, no. . gilles' (nicole) annales, &c. de france. paris, fol. . tom. sur velin no. . Æginetæ (pauli) præcepta salubria. paris, quarto, . on vellum no. . Æsopi fabulæ. edit. prin. _circ._ no. . boccacio, la teseide _ferar._ . prima edizione no. . catullus tibullus, et propertius, aldi. vo. . in membrana this copy was purchased by the late mr. m.c. cracherode, and is now, with his library, in the british museum. it is a beautiful book, but cannot be compared with lord spencer's aldine vellum virgil, of the same size. no. . durandi rationale, &c. . in membrana the beginning of the st chapter was wanting. lord spencer has a perfect copy of this rare book on spotless vellum! no. . platonis opera, apud aldum. vol. fol. . _edit. prin._ on vellum purchased by the late dr. w. hunter; and is at this moment, in his museum at _glasgow_. the reader who has not seen them can have no idea of the beauty of these vellum leaves. the ink is of the finest lustre, and the whole typographical arrangement may be considered a master-piece of printing. lord oxford told dr. mead that he gave guineas for this very copy.] after this melancholy event, one would have thought that future _virtuosi_ would have barricadoed their doors, and fumigated their chambers, to keep out such a pest;--but how few are they who profit by experience, even when dearly obtained! the subsequent history of the disease is a striking proof of the truth of this remark; for the madness of book-collecting rather increased--and the work of death still went on. in the year died john ratcliffe[ ] another, and a very singular, instance of the fatality of the bibliomania. if he had contented himself with his former occupation, and frequented the butter and cheese, instead of the book, market--if he could have _fancied himself_ in a brown peruke, and russian apron, instead of an embroidered waistcoat, velvet breeches, and flowing perriwig, he might, perhaps, have enjoyed greater longevity; but, infatuated by the caxtons and wynkyn de wordes of fletewode and of west, he fell into the snare; and the more he struggled to disentangle himself, the more certainly did he become a prey to the disease. [footnote : bibliotheca ratcliffiana; or, "a catalogue of the elegant and truly valuable library of john ratcliffe, esq. late of bermondsey, deceased. the whole collected with great judgment and expense, during the last thirty years of his life: comprehending a large and most choice collection of the rare old english _black-letter_, in fine preservation, and in elegant bindings, printed by caxton, lettou, machlinia, the anonymous st. albans schoolmaster, wynkyn de worde, pynson, berthelet, grafton, day, newberie, marshe, jugge, whytchurch, wyer, rastell, coplande, and the rest of the _old english typographers_: several missals and mss., and two pedigrees on vellum, finely illuminated." the title page then sets forth a specimen of these black-lettered gems; among which our eyes are dazzled with a galaxy of caxtons, wynkyn de wordes, pynsons, &c. &c. the sale took place on march , . if ever there was a _unique_ collection, this was one--the very essence of old divinity, poetry, romances, and chronicles! the articles were only in number, but their intrinsic value amply compensated for their paucity. the following is but an inadequate specimen. no. . horace's arte of poetrie, pistles and satyres, by drant. , _first english edition_ £ _s._ _d._ no. . the sheparde's calender, . whetstone's castle of delight, no. . the pastyme of the people, printed by rastell. curious wood cuts. a copy of this book is not now to be procured. i have known £ offered for it, and rejected with disdain no. . barclay's shyp of folys, printed by pynson, , _first edit._ fine copy no. . the doctrinal of sapyence, printed by caxton, no. . the boke, called cathon, ditto, . _purchased by dr. hunter_, and now in his museum no. . the polytyque boke, named tullius de senectute, in englishe, by caxton, . _purchased for his majesty_ no. . the game of chesse playe. no. . the boke of jason, printed by caxton no. . the polychronicon of ranulph higden, printed by caxton, . _purchased by dr. hunter_ no. . legenda aurea, or the golden legende no. . mr. ratcliffe's ms. catalogues of the _rare old black letter_, and other curious and uncommon books, vols. this would have been the most delicious article to _my_ palate. if the present owner of it were disposed to part with it, i could not find it in my heart to refuse him _compound interest_ for his money. as is the wooden frame-work to the bricklayer in the construction of his arch, so might mr. ratcliffe's ms. catalogues be to me in the compilation of a certain _magnum opus_! the memory of such a man ought to be dear to the "_black-lettered dogs_" of the present day; for he had [mirabile dictu!] _upwards of_ thirty caxtons! if i might hazard a comparison between mr. james west's and mr. john ratcliffe's collections, i should say that the former was more extensive, the latter more curious: mr. west's, like a magnificent _champagne_, executed by the hand of claude or both, and enclosing mountains, and meadows, and streams, presented to the eye of the beholder a scene at once extensive, luxuriant, and fruitful: mr. ratcliffe's, like one of those delicious pieces of scenery, touched by the pencil of rysdael or hobbima, exhibited to the beholder's eye a spot equally interesting, but less varied and extensive. the sweeping foliage and rich pasture of the former could not, perhaps, afford greater gratification than did the thatched cottage, abrupt declivities, and gushing streams of the latter. to change the metaphor--mr. west's was a magnificent repository, mr. ratcliffe's a choice cabinet of gems.] thirty years have been considered by addison (somewhere in his spectator) as a pretty accurate period for the passing away of one generation and the coming on of another. we have brought down our researches to within a similar period of the present times; but, as addison has not made out the proofs of such assertion, and as many of the relatives and friends of those who have fallen victims to the bibliomania, since the days of ratcliffe, may yet be alive; moreover, as it is the part of humanity not to tear open wounds which have been just closed, or awaken painful sensibilities which have been well nigh laid to rest; so, my dear sir, in giving you a further account of this fatal disorder, i deem it the most prudent method _not to expatiate_ upon the subsequent examples of its mortality. we can only mourn over such names as beauclerk, crofts, pearson, lort, mason, farmer, steevens, woodhouse, brand, and reed! and fondly hope that the list may not be increased by those of living characters! we are, in the second place, to describe the symptoms of the disease. the ingenious peignot, in the first volume of his 'dictionnaire bibliologie,' p. , defines the bibliomania[ ] to be "a passion for possessing books; not so much to be instructed by them, as to gratify the eye by looking on them. he who is affected by this mania knows books only by their titles and dates, and is rather seduced by the exterior than interior"! this is, perhaps, too general and vague a definition to be of much benefit in the knowledge, and consequent prevention, of the disease: let us, therefore, describe it more certainly and intelligibly. [footnote : there is a short, but smart and interesting, article on this head in mr. d'israeli's _curiosities of literature_, vol. . . "bruyere has touched on this mania with humour; of such a collector (one who is fond of superb bindings only) says he, as soon as i enter his house, i am ready to faint on the stair-case from a strong smell of morocco leather. in vain he shows me fine editions, gold leaves, etruscan bindings, &c.--naming them one after another, as if he were showing a gallery of pictures!" lucian has composed a biting invective against an ignorant possessor of a vast library. "one who opens his eyes, with an hideous stare, at an old book, and, after turning over the pages, chiefly admires the _date_ of its publication."] symptoms of this disease are instantly known by a passion for i. _large paper copies_: ii. _uncut copies_: iii. _illustrated copies_: iv. _unique copies_: v. _copies printed upon vellum_: vi. _first editions_: vii. _true editions_: viii. _a general desire for the black letter_. we will describe these symptoms more particularly. i. _large paper copies._ these are a certain set or limited number of the work printed in a superior manner, both in regard to ink and press work, on paper of a larger size, and better quality, than the ordinary copies. their price is enhanced in proportion to their beauty and rarity. in the note below[ ] are specified a few works which have been published in this manner, that the sober collector may avoid approaching them. [footnote : . _lord bacon's essays_, , vo., of which it is said only five copies were struck off on royal folio. in lord spencer's and the cracherode, collection i have seen a copy of this exquisitely printed book; the text of which, surrounded by such an amplitude of margin, in the language of ernesti [see his critique on havercamp's sallust] "natut velut cymba in oceano." . _twenty plays of shakespeare_ published by steevens from the old quarto editions, , vo. vols. of this edition there were only twelve copies struck off on large paper. see bibl. steevens, no. . . _dodsley's collection of old plays_, , vo., vols. only six copies printed on large paper. see bibl. woodhouse, no. . . _the grenville homer._ græce, . to. vols. fifty copies with plates were struck off on large paper, in royal quarto. a copy of this kind was purchased at a sale in , for £ s. . _sandford's genealogical history_, etc. , fol. mr. arch of cornhill purchased a copy of this work on large paper, at the late sale of baron smyth's books, for £ . if the largest paper of clarke's cæsar be excepted, this is the highest priced single volume on large paper, that i just now recollect. . _hearne's works_ on large paper. something relating to hearne will be found in the note at page ante. here it will be only necessary to observe that the hernëan rage for large paper is quite of recent growth, but it promises to be giant-like. when the duplicates of a part of mr. woodhull's library, in , were sold, there was a fine set of copies of this kind; but the prices, comparatively with those now offered, were extremely moderate. mr. otridge, the bookseller, told me an amusing story of his going down to liverpool, many years ago, and accidentally purchasing from the library of the late sir thomas hanmer, a _magnificent set of large paper hearnes_ for about guineas. many of these are now in the choice library of his grace the duke of grafton. the copies were catalogued as _small_ paper. was there ever a more provoking blunder?!] this[ ] symptom of the bibliomania is, at the present day, both general and violent, and threatens to extend still more widely. even modern publications are not exempt from its calamitous influence; and when mr. miller, the bookseller, told me with what eagerness the large paper copies of lord valentia's travels were bespoke, and mr. evans shewed me that every similar copy of his new edition of "burnett's history of his own times" was disposed of, i could not help elevating my eyes and hands, in token of commiseration at the prevalence of this symptom of the bibliomania! [footnote : analogous to large paper copies are _tall copies_; that is, copies of the work published on the ordinary size paper and not much cut down by the binder. the want of _margin_ is a serious grievance complained of by book-collectors; and when there is a contest of margin-measuring, with books never professedly published on large paper, the anxiety of each party to have the largest copy is better conceived than described! how carefully, and how adroitly, are the golden and silver rules then exercised!] ii. _uncut copies._ of all the symptoms of the bibliomania, this is probably the most extraordinary. it may be defined as a passion to possess books of which the edges have never been sheared by the binder's tools. and here, my dear sir, i find myself walking upon doubtful ground;--your uncut hearnes rise up in "rough majesty" before me, and almost "push me from my stool." indeed, when i look around in my book-lined tub, i cannot but be conscious that this symptom of the disorder has reached my own threshold; but when it is known that a few of my bibliographical books are left with the edges uncut _merely to please my friends_ (as one must sometimes study their tastes and appetites as well as one's own), i trust that no very serious conclusions will be drawn about the probable fatality of my own case. as to uncut copies, although their inconvenience [an uncut lexicon to wit!] and deformity must be acknowledged, and although a rational man can want for nothing better than a book _once well bound_, yet we find that the extraordinary passion for collecting them not only obtains with full force, but is attended with very serious consequences to those "qui n'ont point des pistoles" (to borrow the language of clement; vol. vi. p. ). i dare say an uncut _first shakspeare_, as well as an uncut _first homer_[ ] would produce a little annuity! [footnote : "un superbe exemplaire de cette édition _princeps_ a été vendu, chez m. de cotte, en , la somme de livres; mais il faut ajouter que cet exemplaire très-precieux est de la plus belle conservation; on dirait qu'il sort dessous presse. de plus, il est peut-être _l'unique dont les marges n'ont pas été rognées ni coupées_!" peignot's _curiosités bibliographiques_, lxv-vi.] iii. _illustrated copies._ a passion for books illustrated or adorned with numerous prints, representing characters or circumstances mentioned in the work, is a very general and violent symptom of the bibliomania, which has been known chiefly within the last half century. the origin, or first appearance, of this symptom has been traced by some to the publication of granger's "biographical history of england;" but whoever will be at the pains of reading the preface of this work will see that granger sheltered himself under the authorities of evelyn, ashmole, and others; and that he alone is not to be considered as responsible for all the mischief which this passion for collecting prints has occasioned. granger, however, was the first who introduced it in the form of a treatise, and surely "in an evil hour" was this treatise published--although its amiable author must be acquitted of "malice prepense." his history of england[ ] seems to have sounded the tocsin for a general rummage after, and slaughter of, old prints: venerable philosophers and veteran heroes, who had long reposed in unmolested dignity within the magnificent folio volumes which recorded their achievements, were instantly dragged from their peaceful abodes to be inlaid by the side of some spruce, modern engraving, within an illustrated granger! nor did the madness stop here. illustration was the order of the day; and shakspeare[ ] and clarendon[ ] became the next objects of its attack. from these it has glanced off in a variety of directions, to adorn the pages of humbler wights; and the passion, or rather this symptom of the bibliomania,[ ] yet rages with undiminished force. if judiciously[ ] treated, it is, of all the symptoms, the least liable to mischief. to possess a series of well executed portraits of illustrious men, at different periods of their lives, from blooming boyhood to phlegmatic old age, is sufficiently amusing[ ]; but to possess _every_ portrait, _bad, indifferent, and unlike_, betrays such a dangerous and alarming symptom as to render the case almost incurable! [footnote : it was first published in two quarto volumes, ; and went through several editions in octavo. the last is, i believe, of the date of ; to which three additional volumes were published by william noble, in ; the whole seven volumes form what is called an excellent library work.] [footnote : about two or three years ago there was an extraordinary set of prints disposed of, for the illustration of shakspeare, collected by a gentleman in cornwall, with considerable taste and judgment. lord spencer's beautiful octavo illustrated shakespeare, bequeathed to him by the late mr. steevens, has been enriched, since it came into the library of its present noble possessor, with many a rare and many a beauteous specimen of the graphic art.] [footnote : i have heard of an illustrated clarendon (which was recently in the metropolis), that has been valued at guineas! "a good round sum!"] [footnote : one of the most striking and splendid instances of the present rage for illustration may be seen in mr. miller's own copy of the historical work of mr. fox, in two volumes, imperial quarto. exclusively of a great variety of portraits, it is enriched with the original drawing of mr. fox's bust from which the print, attached to the publication, is taken; and has also many original notes and letters by its illustrious author. mr. walter scott's edition of dryden has also received, by the same publisher, a similar illustration. it is on large paper, and most splendidly bound in blue morocco, containing upwards of portraits.] [footnote : the fine copy of granger, illustrated by the late mr. bull, is now in the library of the marquis of bute, at lutton. it extends to atlas folio volumes, and is a repository of almost every rare and beautiful print, which the diligence of its late, and the skill, taste, and connoisseurship of its present, noble owner have brought together.] [footnote : in the memoirs of mr. thomas hollis there is a series of the portraits of milton (not executed in the best manner) done in this way; and a like series of pope's portraits accompanies the recent edition of the poet's works by the rev. w.l. bowles.] there is another mode of illustrating copies by which this symptom of the bibliomania may be known: it consists in bringing together, from different works, [by means of the scissors, or otherwise by transcription] every page or paragraph which has any connection with the character or subject under discussion. this is a useful and entertaining mode of illustrating a favourite author; and copies of works of this nature, when executed by skilful[ ] hands, should be preserved in public repositories. i almost ridiculed the idea of an illustrated chatterton, in this way, till i saw mr. haslewood's copy, in twenty-one volumes, which rivetted me to my seat! [footnote : numerous are the instances of the peculiar use and value of copies of this kind, especially to those who are engaged in publication, of a similar nature. oldys's interleaved langbaine is re-echoed in almost every recent work connected with the belles-lettres of our country. oldys himself was unrivalled in this method of illustration; if, besides his langbaine, his copy of 'fuller's worthies' [once mrs. steevens's, now mr. malone's, see bibl. steevens, no. ] be alone considered! this oldys was the oddest mortal that ever scribbled for bread. grose, in his _olio_, gives an amusing account of his having "a number of small parchment bags inscribed with the names of the persons whose lives he intended to write; into which he put every circumstance and anecdote he could collect, and thence drew up his history." see noble's _college of arms_, p. . of illustrated copies in this way, the suidas of kuster, belonging to the famous d'orville, is a memorable instance. this is now in the bodleian library. i should suppose that one narcissus luttrell, in charles the second's reign, had a number of like illustrated copies. his collection of contemporaneous literature must have been immense, as we may conclude from the account of it in mr. walter scott's preface to his recent edition of dryden's works. luckily for this brilliant poet and editor, a part of luttrell's collection had found its way into the libraries of mr. bindley and mr. heber, and thence was doomed to shine, with renewed lustre, by the side of the poetry of dryden.] iv. _unique copies._ a passion for a book which has any peculiarity about it, by either, or both, of the foregoing methods of illustration--or which is remarkable for its size, beauty, and condition--is indicative of a rage for _unique copies_, and is unquestionably a strong prevailing symptom of the bibliomania. let me therefore urge every sober and cautious collector not to be fascinated by the terms "_matchless, and unique_;" which, "in slim italicks" (to copy dr. ferriar's happy expression) are studiously introduced into bookseller's catalogues to lead the unwary astray. such a collector may fancy himself proof against the temptation; and will, in consequence, _call only to look at_ this unique book, or set of books; but, when he views the morocco binding, silk water-tabby lining, blazing gilt edges--when he turns over the white and spotless leaves--gazes on the amplitude of margin--on a rare and lovely print introduced--and is charmed with the soft and coaxing manner in which, by the skill of herring or mackinlay,[ ] "leaf succeeds to leaf"--he can no longer bear up against the temptation--and, confessing himself vanquished, purchases, and retreats--exclaiming with virgil's shepherd-- ut vidi, ut perii--ut me malus abstulit error! [footnote : at page , note--the reader has been led to expect a few remarks upon the luxuriancy of modern book-binding. mr. roscoe, in his lorenzo de medici, vol. ii., p. ., edit. vo., has defended the art with so much skill that nothing further need be said in commendation of it. admitting every degree of merit to our present fashionable binders, and frankly allowing them the superiority over de rome, padaloup, and the old school of binding, i cannot but wish to see revived those beautiful portraits, arabesque borders, and sharp angular ornaments, that are often found on the outsides of books bound in the th century, with calf leather, upon oaken boards. these brilliant decorations almost make us forget the ivory crucifix, guarded with silver doors, which is frequently introduced in the interior of the sides of the binding. few things are more gratifying to a genuine collector than a fine copy of a book in its _original binding_!] v. _copies printed on vellum._ a desire for works printed in this manner is an equally strong and general symptom of the bibliomania; but as these works are rarely to be obtained of modern[ ] date, the collector is obliged to have recourse to specimens, executed three centuries ago, in the printing-offices of aldus, verard, and the juntæ. although the bibliothéque imperiale, at paris, and the library of count macarty, at toulouse, are said to contain the greatest number of books printed upon vellum, yet, those who have been fortunate enough to see copies of this kind in the libraries of his majesty, the duke of marlborough, earl spencer, mr. johnes, and the late mr. cracherode (now in the british museum), need not travel on the continent for the sake of being convinced of their exquisite beauty and splendour. mr. edward's _unique_ copy (he will forgive the epithet) of the first livy, upon vellum, is a library of itself!--and the recent discovery of a vellum copy of wynkyn de worde's reprint of _juliana barnes's book_,[ ] complete in every respect, [to say nothing of his majesty's similar copy of caxton's _doctrinal of sapience_, , in the finest preservation] are, to be sure, sufficient demonstrations of the prevalence of this symptom of the bibliomania in the times of our forefathers; so that it cannot be said, as some have asserted, to have appeared entirely within the last half century. [footnote : the modern books, printed upon vellum, have in general not succeeded; whether from the art of preparing the vellum, or of printing upon it, being lost i will not presume to determine. the reader may be amused with the following prices for which a few works, executed in this manner, were sold in the year : no. £ _s._ _d._ . virgilii opera, , to. . somervile's chase, , to. . poems by goldsmith and parnell, , to. . the gardens, by abbé delille, , to. . castle of otranto, printed by bodoni, , to. . la guirlande julie, , vo. . economy of human life, , vo. see "_catalogue of a most splendid and valuable collection of books, superb missals, &c._," sold by mr. christie, on april , . but the reader should procure the catalogue of mr. paris's books, sold in the year , which, for the number of articles, is unrivalled. the eye is struck, in every page, with the most sumptuous copies on vellum, and large paper.] [footnote : see page , ante, for some account of this curious work.] vi. _first editions._ from the time of ancillon[ ] to askew, there has been a very strong desire expressed for the possession of original or first published editions of works, as they are in general superintended and corrected by the author himself; and, like the first impressions of prints, are considered more valuable. whoever is possessed with a passion for collecting books of this kind may unquestionably be said to exhibit a strong symptom of the bibliomania; but such a case is not quite hopeless, nor is it deserving of severe treatment or censure. all bibliographers have dwelt on the importance of these editions, for the sake of collation with subsequent ones, and detecting, as is frequently the case, the carelessness displayed by future[ ] editors. of such importance is the _first edition of shakspeare_[ ] considered, that a fac-simile reprint of it has been published with success. in regard to the greek and latin classics, the possession of these original editions is of the first consequence to editors who are anxious to republish the legitimate text of an author. wakefield, i believe always regretted that the first edition of lucretius had not been earlier inspected by him. when he began _his_ edition, the editio princeps was not (as i have understood) in the library of earl spencer--the storehouse of almost every thing that is exquisite and rare in ancient classical literature! [footnote : there is a curious and amusing article in bayle [english edition, vol. i., , &c.] about the elder ancillon, who frankly confessed that he "was troubled with the bibliomania, or disease of buying books." mr. d'israeli says "that he always purchased _first editions_, and never waited for second ones,"--but i find it, in the english bayle, note d, "he chose _the best_ editions." the manner in which ancillon's library was pillaged by the ecclesiastics of metz (where it was considered as the most valuable curiosity in the town) is thus told by bayle; "ancillon was obliged to leave metz: a company of ecclesiastics, of all orders, came from every part, to lay hands on this fine and copious library, which had been collected with the utmost care during forty years. they took away a great number of the books together, and gave a little money, as they went out, to a young girl, of twelve or thirteen years of age, who looked after them, that they might have it to say they had _paid for them_. thus ancillon saw that valuable collection dispersed, in which, as he was wont to say, his chief pleasure and even his heart was placed!"--edit. .] [footnote : an instance of this kind may be adduced from the _first edition_ of fabian, printed in ; of which messrs. longman, and co., have now engaged a very able editor to collate the text with that of the subsequent editions. "the antiquary," says the late mr. brand, "is desired to consult the edition of fabian, printed by pynson, in , because there are others, and i remember to have seen one in the bodleian library at oxford, with a continuation to the end of queen mary, , in which the _language is much modernised_." shakespeare, edit. , vol. xviii. p. - .] [footnote : a singular story is "extant" about the purchase of the late duke of roxburgh's fine copy of the first edition of shakespeare. a friend was bidding for him in the sale-room: his grace had retired to a distance, to view the issue of the contest. twenty guineas and more were offered, from various quarters, for the book: a slip of paper was handed to the duke, in which he was requested to inform his friend whether he was "to go on bidding"--his grace took his pencil, and wrote underneath, by way of reply-- ----lay on macduff! and d----d be he who first cries, 'hold, enough!' such a spirit was irresistible, and bore down all opposition. his grace retired triumphant, with the book under his arm.] it must not, however, be forgotten that if first editions are, in some instances, of great importance, they are in many respects superfluous, and an incumbrance to the shelves of a collector; inasmuch as the labours of subsequent editors have corrected their errors, and superseded, by a great fund of additional matter, the necessity of consulting them. thus, not to mention other instances (which present themselves while noticing the present one), all the fine things which colomiés and remannus have said about the rarity of la croix du maine's bibliotheque, published in , are now unnecessary to be attended to, since the ample and excellent edition of this work by de la monnoye and juvigny, in six quarto volumes, , has appeared. nor will any one be tempted to hunt for gesner's bibliotheca of - , whatever may be its rarity, who has attended to morhof's and vogt's recommendation of the last and best edition of . vii. _true editions._ some copies of a work are struck off with deviations from the usually received ones, and, though these deviations have neither sense nor beauty to recommend them, [and indeed are principally _defects_] yet copies of this description are eagerly sought after by collectors of a certain class! this particular pursuit may therefore be called another, or the seventh, symptom of the bibliomania. the note below [ ] will furnish the reader with a few anecdotes relating to it. [footnote : _cæsar. lug. bat._ , mo. _printed by elzevir._ in the bibliotheca revickzkiana we are informed that the _true_ elzevir edition is known by having the plate of a buffalo's head at the beginning of the preface, and body of the work: also by having the page numbered , which _ought_ to have been numbered . a further account is given in my introduction to the classics, vol. i., . _horace_: londini, , vo., vols. published by pine. the _true_ edition is distinguished by having at page , vol ii, the _incorrect_ reading 'post est.'--for 'potest.' _virgil._ lug. bat. , mo. printed by elzevir. the _true_ edition is known by having at plate , before the bucolics, the following latin passage _printed in red ink_. "ego vero frequentes a te litteras accipi"--consult de bure, no. . _idem._ birmingh. , to. printed by baskerville. a particular account of the _true_ edition will be found in the second volume of my 'introduction to the classics' p. --too long to be here inserted. _boccaccio._ il decamerone, venet. , to. consult de bure, no. : bandini, vol. ii., : (who however is extremely laconic upon this edition, but copious upon the anterior one of ) and haym., vol. iii., p. , edit. . bibl. paris. no. . clement. (vol. iv., ,) has abundance of references, as usual, to strengthen his assertion in calling the edition 'fort rare.' the reprint or spurious edition has always struck me as the prettier book of the two.] viii. books printed in the _black letter_. of all symptoms of the bibliomania, this eighth symptom (and the last which i shall notice) is at present the most powerful and prevailing. whether it was not imported into this country from holland, by the subtlety of schelhorn[ ] (a knowing writer upon rare and curious books) may be shrewdly suspected. whatever be its origin, certain it is, my dear sir, that books printed in the black letter are now coveted with an eagerness unknown to our collectors in the last century. if the spirits of west, ratcliffe, farmer and brand, have as yet held any intercourse with each other, in that place 'from whose bourne no traveller returns,' what must be the surprise of the three former, on being told by the latter, of the prices given for some of the books in his library, as mentioned below!?[ ] [footnote : his words are as follow: "ipsa typorum ruditas, ipsa illa atra crassaque literarum facies _belle tangit sensus, &c._" was ever the black letter more eloquently described? see his _amoenitates literariæ_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : . a boke of fishing with hooke and line, a boke of engines and traps to take polcats, buzzards, rats, mice, and all other kinds of vermine and beasts whatsoever, with cuts, very rare, £ _s._ _d._ . a quip for an upstart courtier; or, a quaint dispute between velvet breeches and cloth breeches, &c. . a checke, or reproof of mr. howlet's untimely screeching in her majesty's ear. _black letter_ as a _striking conclusion_, i subjoin the following. . pappe with an hatchett, _alias_, a fig for my godsonne, or crake me this nutt, or, a countrie cuffe, that is a sound box of the eare for the idiot martin, to hold his peace: seeing the patch will take no warning; written by one that dares call a dog a dog. _rare._ printed by anoke and astile ] a perusal of these articles may probably not impress the reader with any lofty notions of the superiority of the black letter; but this symptom of the bibliomania is, nevertheless, not to be considered as incurable, or wholly unproductive of good. under a proper spirit of modification it has done, and will continue to do, essential service to the cause of english literature. it guided the taste, and strengthened the judgment, of tyrwhitt in his researches after chaucerian lore. it stimulated the studies of farmer and of steevens, and enabled them to twine many a beauteous flower round the brow of their beloved shakespeare. it has since operated, to the same effect, in the labours of mr. douce,[ ] the _porson_ of old english and french literature; and in the editions of milton and spenser, by my amiable and excellent friend mr. todd the public have had a specimen of what the _black letter_ may perform, when temperately and skilfully exercised. [footnote : in the criticisms on mr. douce's _illustrations of shakspeare and ancient manners_, it has not, i think, been generally noticed that this work is distinguished; . for the singular diffidence and urbanity of criticism, as well as depth of learning, which it evinces: . for the happy illustrations, by means of wood cuts: let any one, for instance, read a laboured disquisition on the punishment of "the boots"--and only glance his eye on the plate representing it [vol. i. p. .]: from which will he obtain the clearer notions? . for the taste, elegance, and general correctness with which it is printed. the only omission i regret is that mr. douce did not give us, at the end, a list of the works alphabetically arranged, with their dates which he consulted in the formation of his own. such a bibliotheca shakspeariana might, however, have been only a fresh stimulus to the increase of the black-letter symptom of the _bibliomania_. how bartholomæus and batman have risen in price since the publication of mr. douce's work, let those who have lately smarted for the increase tell!] i could bring to your recollection other instances; but your own copious reading and exact memory will better furnish you with them. let me not however omit remarking that the beautiful pages of the _minstrelsy of the scottish border, and sir trestrem_, exhibit, in the notes [now and then thickly studded with black letter references], a proof that the author of "the lay" and "marmion" has not disdained to enrich his stores of information by such intelligence as black lettered books impart. in short, though this be also a strong and general symptom of the bibliomania, it is certainly not attended with injurious effects when regulated by prudence and discretion. an undistinguishable voracious appetite, to swallow every thing printed in the black letter can only bring on inconquerable disease, if not death, to the patient! having in the two preceding divisions of this letter discoursed somewhat largely upon the history and symptoms of the bibliomania, it now remains, according to the original plan, to say a few words upon the probable means of its cure. and, indeed, i am driven to this view of the subject from every laudable motive; for it would be highly censurable to leave any reflecting mind impressed with melancholy emotions concerning the misery and mortality that have been occasioned by the abuse of those pursuits, to which the most soothing and important considerations ought to be attached. far from me, and my friends, be such a cruel, if not criminal, conduct; let us then, my dear sir, seriously discourse upon the iii. probable means of the cure of the bibliomania. _he_ will surely be numbered among the philanthropists of his day who has, more successfully than myself, traced and described the ravages of this disease, and fortified the sufferer with the means of its cure. but, as this is a disorder of quite a recent date, and as its characteristics, in consequence, cannot be yet fully known or described, great candour must be allowed to that physician who offers a prescription for so obscure and complicated a case. it is in vain that you search the works [ay, even the best editions] of hippocrates and galen for a description of this malady; nor will you find it hinted at in the more philosophical treatises of sydenham and heberden. it had, till the medical skill of dr. ferriar first noticed it to the public, escaped the observations of all our pathologists. with a trembling hand, and fearful apprehension, therefore, i throw out the following suggestions for the cure, or mitigatiou [transcriber's note: mitigation], of this disorder: in _the first place_, the disease of the bibliomania is materially softened, or rendered mild, by directing our studies to _useful and profitable_ works--whether these be printed upon small or large paper, in the gothic, roman, or italic type; to consider purely the _intrinsic_ excellence, and not the exterior splendour, or adventitious value, of any production, will keep us perhaps wholly free from this disease. let the midnight lamp be burnt to illuminate the stores of antiquity--whether they be romances, or chronicles, or legends, and whether they be printed by aldus or by caxton--if a brighter lustre can thence be thrown upon the pages of modern learning! to trace genius to its source, or to see how she has been influenced or modified, by "the lore of past times" is both a pleasing and profitable pursuit. to see how shakspeare has here and there plucked a flower, from some old ballad or popular tale, to enrich his own unperishable garland--to follow spenser and milton in their delightful labyrinths 'midst the splendour of italian literature--are studies which stamp a dignity upon our intellectual characters! but, in such a pursuit let us not overlook the wisdom of modern times, nor fancy that what is only ancient can be excellent. we must remember that bacon, boyle, locke, taylor, chillingworth, robertson, hume, gibbon, and paley, are names which always command attention from the wise, and remind us of the improved state of reason and acquired knowledge during the two last centuries. in the _second place_, the re-printing of scarce and intrinsically valuable works is another means of preventing the propagation of this disorder. amidst all our present sufferings under the bibliomania, it is some consolation to find discerning and spirited booksellers re-publishing the valuable chronicles of froissart, holinshed, and hall,[ ] and the collections known by the names of "the harleïan miscellany," and "lord somer's tracts." these are noble efforts, and richly deserve the public patronage. [footnote : the re-publication of these chronicles is to be followed by those of grafton and fabian. meanwhile, hakluyt's voyages, (projected by mr. evans), and fuller's worthies (by messrs. longman, and co.) will form admirable acquisitions to these treasures of past times.] in the _third place_, the editing of our best ancient authors, whether in prose or poetry,[ ] is another means of effectually counteracting the progress of the bibliomania, as it has been described under its several symptoms. [footnote : the recent _variorum_ editions of shakspeare, of which some yet prefer that of steevens, , vols. vo.--mr. todd's editions of milton and spenser; mr. g. chalmers' edition of sir david lyndsay's works; mr. gifford's edition of massinger; and mr. octavius gilchrist's, of bishop corbett's poems, exemplify the good effects of this _third means of cure_.] in the _fourth place_, the erecting of public institutions[ ] is a very powerful antidote against the prevalence of several symptoms of this disease. [footnote : the royal, london, surrey, and russel institutions have been the means of concentrating, in divers parts of the metropolis, large libraries of _useful_ books; which, it is to be hoped, will eventually suppress the establishment of what are called _circulating libraries_--vehicles, too often, of insufferable nonsense, and irremediable mischief!] in the _fifth place_, the encouragement of the study of bibliography,[ ] in its legitimate sense, and towards its true object, may be numbered among the most efficacious cures for this destructive malady. to place competent librarians over the several departments of a large public library, or to submit a library, on a more confined scale, to one diligent, enthusiastic, well informed, well bred, bibliographer[ ] or librarian, [of which in this metropolis we have so many examples] is doing a vast deal towards directing the channels of literature to flow in their proper courses. [footnote : "unne bonne bibliographie," says marchand, "soit générale soit particulière, soit profane, soit écclésiastique, soit nationale, provinciale, ou locale, soit simplement personnelle, en un mot de quelque autre genre que ce puisse être, n'est pas un ouvrage aussi facile que beaucoup de gens se le pourroient imaginer; mais, elles ne doivent néanmoins nulelment [transcriber's note: nullement] prévenir contre celle-ci. telle qu'elle est, elle ne laisse pas d'être bonne, utile, et digne d'être recherchée par les amateurs, de l'histoire littéraire." _diction. historique_, vol. i. p. . "our nation," says mr. bridgman, "has been too inattentive to bibliographical criticisms and enquiries; for generally the english reader is obliged to resort to foreign writers to satisfy his mind as to the value of authors. it behoves us to consider that there is not a more useful or a more desirable branch of education than a _knowledge of books_; which being correctly ascertained and judiciously exercised, will prove the touch-stone of intrinsic merit, and have the effect of saving many spotless pages from prostitution." _legal bibliography_, p. v. vi.] [footnote : peignot, in his _dictionnaire de bibliologie_, vol. i. , has given a very pompous account of what ought to be the talents and duties of a bibliographer. it would be difficult indeed to find such things united in one person! de bure, in the eighth volume of his _bibliographie instructive_, has prefixed a "discourse upon the science of bibliography and the duties of a bibliographer" which is worth consulting: but i know of nothing which better describes, in few words, such a character, than the following: "in eo sit multijuga materiarum librorumque notitia, ut saltem potiores eligat et inquirat: fida et sedula apud exteras gentes procuratio, ut eos arcessat; summa patientia ut rarè venalis expectet: peculium semper præsens et paratum, ne, si quando occurrunt, emendi occasio intercidat; prudens denique auri argentique contemptus, ut pecuniis sponte careat quæ in bibliothecam formandam et nutriendam sunt insumendæ. si fortè vir literatus eo felicitatis pervenit ut talem thesaurum coaceraverit, nec solus illo invidios fruatur, sed usum cum eruditis qui vigilias suas utilitati publicæ devoverunt, liberaliter communicet; &c."--_bibliotheca hulsiana_, vol. i. præfat. p. , .] thus briefly and guardedly have i thrown out a few suggestions, which may enable us to avoid, or mitigate the severity of, the disease called the bibliomania. happy indeed shall i deem myself, if, in the description of its symptoms, and in the recommendation of the means of cure, i may have snatched any one from a premature grave, or lightened the load of years that are yet to cone [transcriber's note: come]! you, my dear sir, who, in your observations upon society, as well as in your knowledge of ancient times, must have met with numerous instances of the miseries which "flesh is heir to," may be disposed perhaps to confess that, of all species of afflictions, _the present one_ under consideration has the least moral turpitude attached to it. true, it may be so: for, in the examples which have been adduced, there will be found neither suicides, nor gamesters, nor profligates. no woman's heart has been broken from midnight debaucheries: no marriage vow has been violated: no child has been compelled to pine in poverty or neglect: no patrimony has been wasted, and no ancestor's fame tarnished! if men have erred under the influence of this disease, their aberrations have been marked with an excess arising from intellectual fevour, and not from a desire of baser gratifications. if, therefore, in the wide survey which a philosopher may take of the "miseries of human life"[ ] the prevalence of this disorder may appear to be less mischievous than that of others, and, if some of the most amiable and learned of mortals seemed to have been both unwilling, as well as unable, to avoid its contagion, you will probably feel the less alarmed if symptoms of it should appear within the sequestered abode of hodnet![ ] recollecting that even in remoter situations its influence has been felt--and that neither the pure atmosphere of hafod nor of sledmere[ ] has completely subdued its power--you will be disposed to exclaim with violence, at the intrusion of bibliomaniacs-- what walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? they pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide! by land, by water, they renew the charge, they stop the chariot, and they board the barge.[ ] [footnote : in the ingenious and witty work so entitled, i do not recollect whether the disappointment arising from a _cropt_ or a _dirty_ copy has been classed among "_the miseries of human life_."] [footnote : _hodnet hall_, shropshire. the country residence of mr. heber.] [footnote : _hafod_, south wales, the seat of thos. johnes, esq., m.p., the translator of the chronicles of froissart and monstrelet, and of the travels of de broquiere and joinville. the conflagration of part of his mansion and library, two years ago, which excited such a general sympathy, would have damped any ardour of collection but that of mr. johnes--his library has arisen, phoenix-like, from the flames! _sledmere_, in yorkshire, the seat of sir mark masterman sykes, bart., m.p. the library of this amiable and tasteful baronet reflects distinguished credit upon him. it is at once copious and choice.] [footnote : pope's "_prologue to the satires_," v. - .] upon the whole, therefore, attending closely to the symptoms of this disorder as they have been described, and practising such means of cure as have been recommended, we may rationally hope that its virulence may abate, and the number of its victims annually diminish. but if the more discerning part of the community anticipate a different result, and the preceding observations appear to have presented but a narrow and partial view of the mischiefs of the bibliomania, my only consolation is that to advance _something_ upon the subject is better than to preserve a sullen and invincible silence. let it be the task of more experienced bibliographers to correct and amplify the foregoing outline! believe me, my dear sir, very sincerely yours, &c. thomas frognall dibbin [transcriber's note: dibdin]. _kensington, may_ , . postscript. on re-considering what has been written, it has struck me that a synopsis of this disease, after the manner of burton, as prefixed to his _anatomy of melancholy_, may be useful to some future pathologist. the reader is, accordingly, presented with the following one: synopsis. page. { i. history of; or an account of eminent book { collectors who have fallen victims to it t { h { ii. symptoms of; { . large paper copies e { being a passion for { . uncut copies { { . illustrated copies b { { . unique copies i { { . vellum copies b { { . first editions l { { . true editions i { { . black letter editions o { m { iii. cure of { . reading useful works a { { . reprints of scarce and n { { valuable works _ib._ i { { . editing our best ancient a { { writers . { { . erecting of public { { institutions _ib._ { { . encouragement of { { bibliography _ib._ part i. =the evening walk.= on the right uses of literature. rede well thyselfe that other folke can'st rede. chaucer's _good counsail_. [illustration] [illustration] =the evening walk.= on the right uses of literature. it was on a fine autumnal evening, when the sun was setting serenely behind a thick copse upon a distant hill, and his warm tints were lighting up a magnificent and widely-extended landscape, that, sauntering 'midst the fields, i was meditating upon the various methods of honourably filling up the measure of our existence; when i discovered, towards my left, a messenger running at full speed towards me. the abruptness of his appearance, and the velocity of his step, somewhat disconcerted me; but on his near approach my apprehensions were dissipated. i knew him to be the servant of my old college friend, whom i chuse here to denominate lysander. he came to inform me, in his blunt and honest manner, that his master had just arrived with philemon, our common friend; and that, as they were too fatigued with their journey to come out to me, they begged i would quickly enter the house, and, as usual, make them welcome. this intelligence afforded me the liveliest satisfaction. in fifteen minutes, after a hearty shaking of hands, i was seated with them in the parlour; all of us admiring the unusual splendour of the evening sky, and, in consequence, partaking of the common topics of conversation with a greater flow of spirits. "you are come, my friends," said i (in the course of conversation), "to make some stay with me--indeed, i cannot suffer you to depart without keeping you at least a week; in order, amongst other things, to view the beauty of our neighbour lorenzo's grounds, the general splendour of his house, and the magnificence of his library." "in regard to grounds and furniture," replied lysander, "there is very little in the most beautiful and costly which can long excite my attention--but the library--" "here," exclaimed philemon, "here you have him in the toils." "i will frankly confess," rejoined lysander, "that i am an arrant bibliomaniac--that i love books dearly--that the very sight, touch, and, more, the perusal--" "hold, my friend," again exclaimed philemon, "you have renounced your profession--you talk of _reading_ books--do bibliomaniacs ever _read_ books?" "nay," quoth lysander, "you shall not banter thus with impunity. we will, if it please you," said he, turning round to me, "make our abode with you for a few days--and, after seeing the library of your neighbour, i will throw down the gauntlet to philemon, challenging him to answer certain questions which you may put to us, respecting the number, rarity, beauty, or utility of those works which relate to the literature and antiquities of our own country. we shall then see who is able to return the readiest answer." "forgive," rejoined philemon, "my bantering strain. i revoke my speech. you know that, with yourself, i heartily love books; more from their contents than their appearance." lysander returned a gracious smile; and the hectic of irritability on his cheek was dissipated in an instant. the approach of evening made us think of settling our plans. my friends begged their horses might be turned into the field; and that, while they stayed with me, the most simple fare and the plainest accommodation might be their lot. they knew how little able i was to treat them as they were wont to be treated; and, therefore, taking "the will for the deed," they resolved to be as happy as an humble roof could make them. while the cloth was laying for supper (for i should add that we dine at three and sup at nine), we took a stroll in my small garden, which has a mound at the bottom, shaded with lilacs and laburnums, that overlooks a pretty range of meadows, terminated by the village church. the moon had now gained a considerable ascendancy in the sky; and the silvery paleness and profound quiet of the surrounding landscape, which, but an hour ago, had been enlivened by the sun's last rays, seemed to affect the minds of us all very sensibly. lysander, in particular, began to express the sentiments which such a scene excited in him.--"yonder," says he, pointing to the church-yard, "is the bourne which terminates our earthly labours; and i marvel much how mortals can spend their time in cavilling at each other--in murdering, with their pens as well as their swords, all that is excellent and admirable in human nature--instead of curbing their passions, elevating their hopes, and tranquillizing their fears. every evening, for at least one-third of the year, heaven has fixed in the sky yonder visible monitor to man. calmness and splendour are her attendants: no dark passions, no carking cares, neither spleen nor jealousy, seem to dwell in that bright orb, where, as has been fondly imagined, "the wretched may have rest."--"and here," replied philemon, "we do nothing but fret and fume if our fancied merits are not instantly rewarded, or if another wear a sprig of laurel more verdant than ourselves; i could mention, within my own recollection, a hundred instances of this degrading prostitution of talent--aye, a thousand."--"gently reprimand your fellow creatures," resumed lysander, "lest you commit an error as great as any of those which you condemn in others. the most difficult of human tasks seems to be the exercise of forbearance and temperance. by exasperating, you only rekindle, and not extinguish, the evil sparks in our dispositions. a man will bear being told he is in the wrong; but you must tell him so gently and mildly. animosity, petulance, and persecution, are the plagues which destroy our better parts."--"and envy," replied philemon, "has surely enough to do."--"yes," said lysander, "we might enumerate, as you were about to do, many instances--and (what you were not about to do) pity while we enumerate! i think," continued he, addressing himself particularly to me, "you informed me that the husband of poor lavinia lies buried in yonder church-yard; and perhaps the very tomb which now glistens by the moonbeam is the one which consecrates his memory! that man was passionately addicted to literature;--he had a strong mind; a wonderful grasp of intellect; but his love of paradox and hypothesis quite ruined his faculties. nicas happened to discover some glaring errors in his last treatise, and the poor man grew sick at heart in consequence. nothing short of _infallibility_ and _invincibility_ satisfied him; and, like the spaniard in the 'diable boiteux,' who went mad because five of his countrymen had been beaten by fifty portugese, this unhappy creature lost all patience and forbearance, because, in an hundred systems which he had built with the cards of fancy, ninety-nine happened to tumble to the ground. "this is the dangerous consequence, not so much of vanity and self-love as of downright literary quixotism. a man may be cured of vanity as the french nobleman was--'ecoutez messieurs! monseigneur le duc va dire la meillure chose du monde!'[ ] but for this raving, ungovernable passion of soaring beyond all human comprehension, i fear there is no cure but in such a place as the one which is now before us. compared with this, how different was menander's case! careless himself about examining and quoting authorities with punctilious accuracy, and trusting too frequently to the _ipse-dixits_ of good friends:--with a quick discernment--a sparkling fancy--great store of classical knowledge, and a never ceasing play of colloquial wit, he moved right onwards in his manly course--the delight of the gay, and the admiration of the learned! he wrote much and variously: but in an evil hour the demon malice caught him abroad--watched his deviations--noted down his failings--and, discovering his vulnerable part, he did not fail, like another paris, to profit by the discovery. menander became the victim of over-refined sensibility: he need not have feared the demon, as no good man need fear satan. his pen ceased to convey his sentiments; he sickened at heart; and after his body had been covered by the green grass turf, the gentle elves of fairy-land took care to weave a chaplet to hang upon his tomb, which was never to know decay! sycorax was this demon; and a cunning and clever demon was he!" [footnote : this is the substance of the story related in darwin's _zoonomia_: vol. iv. p. .] "i am at a loss," said philemon, "to comprehend exactly what you mean?"--"i will cease speaking metaphorically," replied lysander; "but sycorax was a man of ability in his way. he taught literary men, in some measure, the value of careful research and faithful quotation; in other words, he taught them to speak the truth as they found her; and, doubtless, for this he merits not the name of a demon, unless you allow me the priviledge of a grecian.[ ] that sycorax loved truth must be admitted; but that he loved no one so much as himself to speak the truth must also be admitted. nor had he, after all, any grand notions of the goddess. she was, in his sight, rather of diminutive than gigantic growth; rather of a tame than a towering mien; dressed out in little trinkets, and formally arrayed in the faded point-lace and elevated toupee of the ancient english school, and not in the flowing and graceful robes of grecian simplicity. but his malice and ill-nature were frightful; and withal his love of scurrility and abuse quite intolerable. he mistook, in too many instances, the manner for the matter; the shadow for the substance. he passed his criticisms, and dealt out his invectives, with so little ceremony, and so much venom, that he seemed born with a scalping knife in his hand to commit murder as long as he lived! to him, censure was sweeter than praise; and the more elevated the rank, and respectable the character of his antagonist, the more dexterously he aimed his blows, and the more frequently he renewed his attacks. in consequence, scarcely one beautiful period, one passionate sentiment of the higher order, one elevated thought, or philosophical deduction, marked his numerous writings. 'no garden-flower grew wild' in the narrow field of his imagination; and, although the words decency and chastity were continually dropping from his lips, i suspect that the reverse of these qualities was always settled round his heart.[ ] thus you see, my dear philemon," concluded lysander, "that the love of paradox, of carelessness, and of malice, are equally destructive of that true substantial fame which, as connected with literature, a wise and an honest man would wish to establish. but come; the dews of evening begin to fall chilly; let us seek the house of our friend." [footnote : without turning over the ponderous tones of stephen, constantine, and scaliger, consult the sensible remarks upon the word '[greek: daimôn]' in _parkhurst's greek and english lexicon to the new testament_, vo. edit. . in the greek language, it is equally applied to an accomplished and unprincipled character. homer alone will furnish a hundred instances of this.] [footnote : mark certain expressions, gentle reader, which occur in the notes to the life of _robin hood_, prefixed to the ballads which go under his name: . vols. vo.--also a dissertation on romance and minstrelsy in the first vol. of _ancient metrical romances_, , vols. vo. a very common degree of shrewdness and of acquaintance with english literature will shew that, in menander and sycorax, are described honest tom warton and snarling 'mister' joseph ritson.] as lysander concluded his discourse, we turned, abruptly, but thoughtfully, towards my cottage; and, making the last circuit of the gravel walk, philemon stopped to listen to the song of a passing rustic, who seemed to be uttering all the joy which sometimes strongly seizes a simple heart. "i would rather," exclaimed he, "be this poor fellow, chanting his 'native wood-notes wild,' if his heart know not guilt--than the shrewdest critic in the universe, who could neither feel, nor write, good-naturedly!" we smiled at this ejaculation; and quickly reached the house. the fatigue of travelling had sharpened the appetites of my friends; and at a moment when, as the inimitable cowper expresses it, our drawing-rooms begin to blaze with lights, by clear reflection multiplied from many a mirror, in which he of gath, goliath, might have seen his giant bulk whole, without stooping, towering crest and all, _our_ pleasures too _began_; _task_, b. iv. but they were something more rational than those of merely eating and drinking. "i seldom partake of this meal," observed philemon, "without thinking of the _omnium-gatherum_ bowl, so exquisitely described by old isaac walton. we want here, it is true, the 'sweet shady arbour--the contexture of woodbines, sweet-briar, jessamine, and myrtle,'[ ] and the time of the evening prevents our enjoying it without; but, in lieu of all this, we have the sight of books, of busts, and of pictures. i see there the ponderous folio chronicles, the genuine quarto romances, and, a little above, a glittering row of thin, closely-squeezed, curiously-gilt, volumes of original plays. as we have finished our supper, let us--" "my friends," observed i, "not a finger upon a book to-night--to-morrow you may ransack at your pleasure. i wish to pursue the conversation commenced by lysander, as we were strolling in the garden." "agreed," replied philemon,--"the quietness of the hour--the prospect, however limited, before us--(for i shall not fail to fix my eyes upon a froissart printed by verard, or a portrait painted by holbein, while you talk)--every thing conspires to render this discourse congenial." "as you have reminded me of that pretty description of a repast in walton," resumed lysander, "i will preface the sequel to my conversation by drinking a glass to your healths--and so, masters, 'here is a full glass to you' of the liquor before us." lysander then continued, "it were to be wished that the republic or region of literature could be described in as favourable a manner as camden has described the air, earth, and sky, of our own country;[ ] but i fear milton's terrific description of the infernal frozen continent, beat with perpetual forms of whirlwind and dire hail, _par. lost_, b. ii. v. . is rather applicable to it. having endeavoured to shew, my dear friends, that the passionate love of hypothesis--(or a determination to make every man think and believe as we do) incorrigible carelessness--and equally incorrigible ill-nature--are each inimical to the true interests of literature, let us see what other evil qualities there are which principally frustrate the legitimate view of learning. [footnote : _complete angler_, p. . bagster's edit. . in a similar style of description are "the faire grove and swete walkes, letticed and gardened on both sides," of mr. warde's letter--describing the nunnery of little gidding in huntingdonshire. see hearne's edit. of _peter langtoft's chronicle_, vol. . p. cx.] [footnote : "the ayre is most temperate and wholesome, sited in the middest of the temperate zone, subject to no stormes and tempests, as the more southerne and northerne are; but stored with infinite delicate fowle. for water, it is walled and guarded with ye ocean most commodious for trafficke to all parts of the world, and watered with pleasant fishful and navigable rivers, which yeeld safe havens and roads, and furnished with shipping and sailers, that it may rightly be termed the lady of the sea. that i may say nothing of healthful bathes, and of meares stored both with fish and fowl. the earth fertile of all kinde of graine, manured with good husbandry, rich in minerall of coals, tinne, lead, copper, not without gold and silver, abundant in pasture, replenished with cattel, both tame and wilde (for it hath more parks than all europe besides), plentifully wooded, provided with all complete provisions of war, beautified with many populous cities, faire boroughs, good towns, and well-built villages, strong munitions, magnificent palaces of the prince, stately houses of the nobilitie, frequent hospitals, beautiful churches, faire colledges, as well in the other places as in the two vniversities." _remains_, p. . edit. . how far camden was indebted to the following curious description of our country, written in the time of edward vj, (of which i shall modernize the orthography,) the reader will judge for himself. the running title of the work is "_the debate between the_ [french and english] _heralds_," vo., printed in the bl. lett. (in the possession of mr. heber.) "we have all manner of grains, and fruits, and more plenty than you; for, thanked be god, england is a fruitful and plenteous region, so that we have some fruits whereof you have few; as _wardeines_, quinces, peaches, medlers, chesnuts, and other delicious fruits; serving for all seasons of the year; and so plenty of pears and apples that, in the west parts of england and sussex, they make perry and cider, and in such abundance that they convey part over the sea, where, by the monsieurs of france, it is coveted for their beverage and drinks."--_sign. l._ iiij. rev. "we have in cornwall and devonshire (god be honoured) the richest mines of silver and tin that may be, also in ireland mines of silver, in derbyshire mines of lead, alabaster, marble, black and white. in sussex, yorkshire, and durham, mines of iron, coal, slate, and freestone; and in every shire of england, generally quarries of hard stone, chalk, and flint: these be commodities honorable and not feigned, being of such estimation that france, nor other realms, may well forbear; and as for saltpetre, there is sufficient made in england to furnish our turn for the wars. also we have hot fountains or bathes, which you nor no other realms christened have."--_sign. l._ v. rev. if ancient gildas speak the truth, great britain was no contemptible place twelve hundred years ago--the period when he lived and wrote his lachrymable history. "the iland of britaine placed in the ballance of the divine poising hand (as they call it) which weigheth the whole world, almost the uttermost bound of his earth towards the south and west; extending itself from the south-west, out towards the north pole, eight hundred miles in length; and containing two hundred in breadth, besides the fare outstretched forelands of sundry promonteries, embraced by the embowed bosomes of the ocean sea; with whose most spacious, and on every side (saving only the southern streights, by which we sale to gallehelgicke) impassable enclosure (as i may call it) she is strongly defended; enriched with the mouths of two noble floods, thames and severne, as it were two armes (by which out-landish commodities have in times past been transported into the same) besides other rivers of lesser account, strengthened with eight and twenty cities, and some other castles, not meanly fenced with fortresses of walls, embattled towers, gates, and buildings (whose roofes being raised aloft with a threatening hugenesse, were mightily in their aspiring toppes compaced) adorned with her large spreading fields, pleasant seated hils, even framed for good husbandry, which over-mastereth the ground, and mountains most convenient for the changeable pastures of cattell; whose flowers of sundry collours, troden by the feete of men, imprint no unseemly picture on the same, as a spouse of choice, decked with divers jewels; watered with cleere fountains, and sundry brokes, beating on the snow-white sands, together with silver streames sliding forth with soft sounding noise, and leaving a pledge of sweet savours on their bordering bankes, and lakes gushing out abundantly in cold running rivers."--_epistle of gildas_, transl. , mo. p. , after the prologue. whoever looks into that amusing and prettily-printed little book, "_barclaii satyricon_," , mo., will find a description of germany, similar, in part, to the preceding.--"olim sylvis et incolis fera, nunc oppidis passim insignis; nemoribus quoque quibus immensis tegebatur, ad usum decusque castigatis." p. .] "in the example of gonzalo, with whom philemon is perfectly well acquainted, a remarkable exemplification of the passion of _vanity_ occurs. i recollect, one evening, he came rushing into a party where i sat, screaming with the extatic joy of a maniac--'[greek: eurêka, eurêka]'; and, throwing down a scroll, rushed as precipitately out of the room. the scroll was of vellum; the title to the contents of it was penned in golden letters, and softly-painted bunches of roses graced each corner. it contained a sonnet to love, and another to friendship; but a principal mistake which struck us, on the very threshold of our critical examination, was that he had incorrectly entitled these sonnets. friendship should have been called love, and love, friendship. we had no sooner made the discovery than gonzalo returned, expecting to find us in like ecstacies with himself!--we gravely told him that we stumbled at the very threshold. it was quite sufficient--he seized his sonnets with avidity--and, crumpling the roll (after essaying to tear it) thrust it into his pocket, and retreated. one of the gentlemen in company made the following remarks, on his leaving us: 'in the conduct of gonzalo appears a strange mixture of intellectual strength and intellectual debility; of wit and dulness; of wisdom and folly; and all this arises chiefly from his mistaking the means for the end--the instrument of achieving for the object achieved. the fondest wish of his heart is literary fame: for this he would sacrifice every thing. he is handsome, generous, an affectionate son, a merry companion, and is, withal, a very excellent belles-lettres scholar. tell him that the ladies admire him, that his mother doats on him, and that his friends esteem him--and--keeping back the wished-for eulogy of literary excellence--you tell him of nothing which he cares for. in truth he might attain some portion of intellectual reputation, if he would throw aside his ridiculous habits. he _must_, as soon as the evening shades prevail, burn wax tapers--he must always have an argand lamp lighted up before him, to throw a picturesque effect upon a dark wood painted by hobbima--his pens must be made from the crow's wing--his wax must be green--his paper must be thick and hot-pressed; and he must have a portfolio of the choicest bits of ancient vellum that can be procured--his body must recline upon a chintz sofa--his foot must be perched upon an ottoman--in short he _must_ have every thing for which no man of common sense would express the least concern. can you be surprised, therefore, that he should commence his sonnet to friendship thus: oh, sweetest softest thing that's friendship hight! or that he should conceive the following address to women, by one william goddard, worthy of being ranked among the most beautiful poetical efforts of the th century: stars of this earthly heaven, you whose essence compos'd was of man's purest quintessence, to you, to virtuous you, i dedicate this snaggy sprig[ ]----" [footnote : from "_a satyrical dialogue, &c., betweene alexander the great and that truelye woman-hater diogynes_. imprinted in the low countryes for all such gentlewomen as are not altogether idle nor yet well occupyed," to. no date. a strange composition! full of nervous lines and pungent satire--but not free from the grossest licentiousness.] "enough," exclaimed philemon--while lysander paused a little, after uttering the foregoing in a rapid and glowing manner--"enough for this effeminate vanity in man! what other ills have you to enumerate, which assail the region of literature?"--"i will tell you," replied lysander, "another, and a most lamentable evil, which perverts the very end for which talents were given us--and it is in mistaking and misapplying these talents. i speak with reference to the individual himself, and not to the public. you may remember how grievously alfonso bore the lot which public criticism, with one voice, adjudged to him! this man had good natural parts, and would have abridged a history, made an index, or analyzed a philosophical work, with great credit to himself and advantage to the public. but he set his heart upon eclipsing doctors johnson and jamieson. he happened to know a few etymons more correctly, and to have some little acquaintance with black letter literature, and hence thought to give more weight to lexicographical inquiries than had hitherto distinguished them. but how miserably he was deceived in all his undertakings of this kind past events have sufficiently shewn. no, my good philemon, to be of use to the republic of literature, let us know our situations; and let us not fail to remember that, in the best appointed army, the serjeant may be of equal utility with the captain. "i will notice only one other, and a very great, failing observable in literary men--and this is severity and self-consequence. you will find that these severe characters generally set up the trade of _critics_; without attending to the just maxim of pope, that ten censure wrong, for one that writes amiss. "with them, the least deviation from precise correctness, the most venial trippings, the smallest inattention paid to doubtful rules and equivocal positions of criticism, inflames their anger, and calls forth their invectives. regardless of the sage maxims of cicero, quintilian, and horace, they not only disdain the sober rules which their ancient brethren have wisely laid down, and hold in contempt the voice of the public,[ ] but, forgetting the subject which they have undertaken to criticise, they push the author out of his seat, quietly sit in it themselves, and fancy they entertain you by the gravity of their deportment, and their rash usurpation of the royal monosyllable 'nos.'[ ] this solemn pronoun, or rather 'plural style,'[ ] my dear philemon, is oftentimes usurped by a half-starved little _i_, who sits immured in the dusty recess of a garret, and who has never known the society nor the language of a gentleman; or it is assumed by a young graduate, just settled in his chambers, and flushed with the triumph of his degree of 'b.a.', whose 'fond conceyte' [to borrow master francis thynne's[ ] terse style,] is, to wrangle for an asses shadowe, or to seke a knott in a rushe!' [footnote : "interdum vulgus rectum videt:" says horace.--_epist. lib._ ii. _ad. augustum_, v. .] [footnote : vide rymeri _foedera_--passim.] [footnote : a very recent, and very respectable, authority has furnished me with this expression.] [footnote : see mr. todd's _illustrations of gower and chaucer_, p. .] "for my part," continued lysander, speaking with the most unaffected seriousness--"for my part, nothing delights me more than modesty and diffidence, united with 'strong good sense, lively imagination, and exquisite sensibility,'[ ] whether in an author or a critic. when i call to mind that our greatest sages have concluded their labours with doubt, and an avowal of their ignorance; when i see how carefully and reverently they have pushed forward their most successful inquiries; when i see the great newton pausing and perplexed in the vast world of planets, comets, and constellations, which were, in a measure, of his own creation--i learn to soften the asperity of my critical anathemas, and to allow to an author that portion of fallibility of which i am conscious myself. [footnote : it is said, very sensibly, by la bruyere, i will allow that good writers are scarce enough; but then i ask where are the people that know how to read and judge? a union of these qualities, which are seldom found in the same person, seems to be indispensably necessary to form an able critic; he ought to possess strong good sense, lively imagination, and exquisite sensibility. and of these three qualities, the last is the most important; since, after all that can be said on the utility or necessity of rules and precepts, it must be confessed that the merit of all works of genius must be determined by taste and sentiment. "why do you so much admire the helen of zeuxis?" said one to nicostratus. "you would not wonder why i so much admired it (replied the painter) if you had my eyes."--warton: note to pope's essay on criticism. _pope's works_, vol. i. , edit. .] "i see then," rejoined philemon, "that you are an enemy to _reviews_."[ ] "far from it," replied lysander, "i think them of essential service to literature. they hold a lash over ignorance and vanity; and, at any rate, they take care to bestow a hearty castigation upon vicious and sensual publications. thus far they do good: but, in many respects, they do ill--by substituting their own opinions for those of an author; by judging exclusively according to their own previously formed decisions in matters of religion and politics; and by shutting out from your view the plan, and real tendency, of the book which they have undertaken to review, and therefore ought to analyze. it is, to be sure, amusing to read the clamours which have been raised against some of the most valuable, and now generally received, works! when an author recollects the pert conclusion of dr. kenrick's review of dr. johnson's tour to the hebrides,[ ] he need not fear the flippancy of a reviewer's wit, as decisive of the fate of his publication! [footnote : the earliest publications, i believe, in this country, in the character of reviews were there [transcriber's note: the] _weekly memorials for the ingenious_, &c. lond. , to.--and _the universal historical bibliotheque_: or an account of most of the considerable books printed in all languages, in the month of january . london, , to. five years afterwards came forth _the young student's library_, by the athenian society, , folio, "a kind of common theatre where every person may act, or take such part as pleases him best, and what he does not like he may pass over, assuring himself that, every one's judgment not being like his, another may chuse what he mislikes, and so every one may be pleased in their turns." pref. a six weeks' frost is said to have materially delayed the publication. after these, in the subsequent century, appeared the _old and new memoirs of literature_; then, the _works of the learned_; upon which was built, eclipsing every one that had preceeded it, and not excelled by any subsequent similar critical journal, _the monthly review_.] [footnote : after all, said the reviewing doctor, we are of opinion, with the author himself, that this publication contains 'the sentiments of one who has seen but little:' meaning, thereby, that the book was hardly worth perusal! what has become of the said dr. kenrick now? we will not ask the same question about the said dr. johnson; whose works are upon the shelf of every reading man of sense and virtue.] "it is certainly," pursued lysander, "a very prolific age of knowledge. there never was, at any one period of the world, so much general understanding abroad. the common receptacles of the lower orders of people present, in some degree, intellectual scenes. i mean, that collision of logic, and corruscation of wit, which arise from the perusal of a newspaper; a production, by-the-bye, upon which cowper has conferred immortality.[ ] you may remember, when we were driven by a sharp tempest of hail into the small public-house which stands at the corner of the heath--what a _logomachy_--what a _war of words_ did we hear! and all about sending troops to the north or south of spain, and the justice or injustice of the newly-raised prices of admission to covent garden theatre!![ ] the stage-coach, if you recollect, passed by quickly after our having drunk a tumbler of warm brandy and water to preserve ourselves from catching cold; and into it glad enough we were to tumble! we had no sooner begun to be tolerably comfortable and composed than a grave old gentleman commenced a most furious philippic against the prevailing studies, politics, and religion of the day--and, in truth, this man evinced a wonderfully retentive memory, and a fair share of powers of argument; bringing everything, however, to the standard of his _own times_. it was in vain we strove to edge in the great _whig and tory reviews_ of the northern and southern hemispheres! the obdurate champion of other times would not listen a moment, or stir one inch, in favour of these latter publications. when he quitted us, we found that he was a ---- of considerable consequence in the neighbourhood, and had acquired his fortune from the superior sagacity and integrity he had displayed in consequence of having been educated at the free-school in the village of ----, one of the few public schools in this kingdom which has not frustrated the legitimate views of its pious founder, by converting that into a foppish and expensive establishment which was at once designed as an asylum for the poor and an academy to teach wisdom and good morals." [footnote : see the opening the fourth book of "_the task_;" a picture perfectly original and unrivalled in its manner.] [footnote : it is not less true, than surprising, that the ridiculous squabbles, which disgraced both this theatre and the metropolis, have been deemed deserving of a regular series of publications in the shape of numbers-- , , , &c. as if the subject had not been sufficiently well handled in the lively sallies and brilliant touches of satire which had before appeared upon it in the _monthly mirror_!] philemon was about to reply, with his usual warmth and quickness, to the latter part of these remarks--as bearing too severely upon the eminent public seminaries within seventy miles of the metropolis--but lysander, guessing his intentions from his manner and attitude, cut the dialogue short by observing that we did not meet to discuss subjects of a personal and irritable nature, and which had already exercised the wits of two redoubted champions of the church--but that our object, and the object of all rational and manly discussion, was to state opinions with frankness, without intending to wound the feelings, or call forth the animadversions, of well-meaning and respectable characters. "i know," continued he, "that you, philemon, have been bred in one of these establishments, under a man as venerable for his years as he is eminent for his talents and worth; who employs the leisure of dignified retirement in giving to the world the result of his careful and profound researches; who, drinking largely at the fountain head of classical learning, and hence feeling the renovated vigour of youth (without having recourse to the black art of a cornelius agrippa[ ]), circumnavigates 'the erythrean sea'--then, ascending the vessel of nearchus, he coasts 'from indus to the euphrates'--and explores with an ardent eye what is curious and what is precious, and treasures in his sagacious mind what is most likely to gratify and improve his fellow-countrymen. a rare and eminent instance this of the judicious application of acquired knowledge!--and how much more likely is it to produce good, and to secure solid fame, than to fritter away one's strength, and undermine one's health, in perpetual pugilistic contests with snarling critics, dull commentators, and foul-mouthed philologists." [footnote : let him who wishes to be regaled in a dull dreary night--when the snow is heavily falling, and the wind whistles hollowly--open those leaves of bayle's _historical and biographical dictionary_ which relate to this extraordinary character; and see there how adroitly agrippa is defended against the accusation of "having two devils attending him in the shape of two little dogs--one of them being called monsieur, and the other mademoiselle"--"whereas paulus jovius, thevet, &c., speak only of _one_ dog, and never mention his name." vol. i. , ; edit. , vols. folio. the bibliographer, who wishes to be master of the most curious and rare editions of his works, may go from bayle to clement, and from clement to vogt. he must beware of the castrated lyons' editions "per beringos fratres"--against one of which bayle declaims, and produces a specimen (quite to his own liking) of the passage suppressed:--another, of a similar kind, is adduced by vogt (edit. , pp. , ); who tells us, however, that an edition of , vo., without mention of place or printer--and especially a cologne edition of , by hierat, in mo.--exhibits the like castrations; p. . this has escaped clement, learned as he is upon the lyons' editions, vol. i. , , . bauer (_bibl. libr. rarior._) is here hardly worth consulting; and the compilers of the celebrated _nouveau dict. historique_ (caen edit. , vol. i. p. . art. agrippa) deserve censure for the recommendation of these lyons' editions only. agrippa's "vanity of sciences" was first published at antwerp in to. ; a book, upon the rarity of which bibliographers delight to expatiate. his "occult philosophy"--according to bayle, in (at least, the elector of cologne had seen several printed leaves of it in this year), but according to vogt and bauer, in .--there is no question about the edition of ; of which vogt tells us, "an englishman, residing at frankfort, anxiously sought for a copy of it, offering fifty crowns (imperiales) and more, without success." all the editions in agrippa's life-time (before ) are considered uncastrated, and the best. it should not be forgotten that brucker, in his _hist. crit. phil._, has given a masterly account of agrippa, and an analysis of his works.] philemon heartily assented to the truth of these remarks; and, more than once, interrupted lysander in his panegyrical peroration by his cheerings:[ ] for he had, in his youth (as was before observed), been instructed by the distinguished character upon whom the eulogy had been pronounced. [footnote : this word is almost peculiar to our own country, and means a vehement degree of applause. it is generally used previous to, and during, a contest of any kind--whether by men in red coats, or blue coats, or black coats--upon land, upon water, or within doors. even the walls of st. stephen's chapel frequently echo to the "_loud cheerings_" of some kind or other. see every newspaper on every important debate.] the effort occasioned by the warmth in discussing such interesting subjects nearly exhausted lysander--when it was judged prudent to retire to rest. each had his chamber assigned to him; and while the chequered moon-beam played upon the curtains and the wall, through the half-opened shutter, the minds of lysander and philemon felt a correspondent tranquillity; and sweet were their slumbers till the morning shone full upon them. [illustration] part ii. =the cabinet.= outline of foreign and domestic bibliography. condemn the daies of elders great or small, and then blurre out the course of present tyme: cast one age down, and so doe orethrow all, and burne the bookes of printed prose or ryme: who shall beleeve he rules, or she doth reign, in tyme to come, if writers loose their paine the pen records tyme past and present both: skill brings foorth bookes, and bookes is nurse to troth. churchyard's _worthiness of wales_ p. , edit. . [illustration] [illustration] =the cabinet.= outline of foreign and domestic bibliography. tout autour oiseaulx voletoient et si tres-doulcement chantoient, qu'il n'est cueur qui n'ent fust ioyeulx. et en chantant en l'air montoient et puis l'un l'autre surmontoient a l'estriuee a qui mieulx mieulx. le temps n'estoit mie mieulx. de bleu estoient vestuz les cieux, et le beau soleil cler luisoit. violettes croissoient par lieux et tout faisoit ses deuoirs tieux comme nature le duisoit. oeuvres de chartier, paris, , to. p. . such is the lively description of a spring morning, in the opening of alain chartier's "_livre des quatre dames_;" and, excepting the violets, such description conveyed a pretty accurate idea of the scenery which presented itself, from the cabinet window, to the eyes of lysander and philemon. phil. how delightful, my dear friend, are the objects which we have before our eyes, within and without doors! the freshness of the morning air, of which we have just been partaking in yonder field, was hardly more reviving to my senses than is the sight of this exquisite cabinet of bibliographical works, adorned with small busts and whole-length figures from the antique! you see these precious books are bound chiefly in morocco, or russia leather: and the greater part of them appear to be printed upon _large paper_. lysand. our friend makes these books a sort of hobby-horse, and perhaps indulges his vanity in them to excess. they are undoubtedly useful in their way. phil. you are averse then to the study of bibliography? lysand. by no means. i have already told you of my passion for books, and cannot, therefore, dislike bibliography. i think, with lambinet, that the greater part of bibliographical works are sufficiently dry and soporific:[ ] but i am not insensible to the utility, and even entertainment, which may result from a proper cultivation of it--although both de bure and peignot appear to me to have gone greatly beyond the mark, in lauding this study as "one of the most attractive and vast pursuits in which the human mind can be engaged."[ ] [footnote : _recherches, &c., sur l'origine de l'imprimerie_: introd. p. x. lambinet adds very justly, "l'art consiste à les rendre supportables par des objets variés de littérature, de critique, d'anecdotes," &c.] [footnote : see the "discours sur la science bibliographique," &c., in the eighth volume of de bure's _bibl. instruct._ and peignot's _dictionnaire raisonné de biblilolgie_, [transcriber's note: bibliologie] vol. i. p. . the passage, in the former authority, beginning "sans cesse"--p. xvj.--would almost warm the benumbed heart of a thorough-bred mathematician, and induce him to exchange his euclid for de bure!!] phil. but to know what books are valuable and what are worthless; their intrinsic and extrinsic merits; their rarity, beauty, and particularities of various kinds; and the estimation in which they are consequently held by knowing men--these things add a zest to the gratification we feel in even looking upon and handling certain volumes. lysand. it is true, my good philemon; because knowledge upon any subject, however trivial, is more gratifying than total ignorance; and even if we could cut and string cherry-stones, like cowper's rustic boy, it would be better than brushing them aside, without knowing that they could be converted to such a purpose. hence i am always pleased with le long's reply to the caustic question of father malebranche, when the latter asked him, "how he could be so foolish as to take such pains about settling the date of a book, or making himself master of trivial points of philosophy!"--"truth is so delightful," replied le long, "even in the most trivial matters, that we must neglect nothing to discover her." this reply, to a man who was writing, or had written, an essay upon truth was admirable. mons. a.g. camus, a good scholar, and an elegant bibliographer, [of whom you will see some account in "_les siecles litteraires de la france_,"] has, i think, placed the study of bibliography in a just point of view; and to his observations, in the first volume of the "_memoires de l'institut national_," i must refer you.[ ] [footnote : lysander had probably the following passage more particularly in recollection; which, it must be confessed, bears sufficiently hard upon fanciful and ostentatious collectors of books. "[il y a] deux sortes de connoissance des livres: l'une qui se renferme presque uniquement dans les dehors et la forme du livre, pour apprécier, d'après sa date, d'après la caractère de l'impression, d'après certaines notes, quelquefois seulement d'après une erreur typographique, les qualités qui le font ranger dans la classe des livres rares où curieux, et qui fixent sa valeur pecuniaire: l'autre genre de connoissance consiste à savoir quels sont les livres les plus propres à instruire, ceux où les sujets sont le plus clairement présentés et le plus profondement discutés; les ouvrages à l'aide desquels il est possible de saisir l'origine de la science, de la suivre dans ses développemens, d'atteindre le point actuel de la perfection. sans doute il seroit avantageux que ces deux genres de connoisances fussent toujours réunis: l'expérience montre qu'ils le sont rairement; l'expérience montre encore que le premier des deux genres a été plus cultivé que le second. nous possédons, sur l'indication des livres curieux et rares, sur les antiquités et les bijoux litteraires, si l'on me permet d'employer cette expression, des instructions meilleures que nous n'en avons sur les livres propres à instruire foncièrement des sciences. en recherchant la cause de cette difference, on la trouvera peut-être dans la passion que des hommes riches et vains ont montrée pour posséder des livres sans être en état de les lire. il a fallu créer pour eux une sorte de bibliotheque composée d'objets qui, sous la forme exterieure de livres, ne fussent réellement que des raretés, des objets de curiosité, qu'on ne lit pas, mais que tantôt on regarde avec complaisance, tantôt en montre avec ostentation; et comme après cela c'est presque toujours le goût des personnes en état de récompenser qui dirige le but des travailleurs, on ne doit pas être surpris qu'on se soit plus occupé d'indiquer aux hommes riches dont je parle, des raretés à acquérir, ou de vanter celles qu'ils avoient rassemblées, que de faciliter, par des indications utiles, les travaux des hommes studieux dont on n'attendoit aucune récompense." _memoires de l'institut_, vol. i. . see also the similar remarks of jardé, in the "précis sur les bibliotheques," prefixed to fournier's _dict. portatif de bibliographie_, edit. . something like the same animadversions may be found in a useful book printed nearly two centuries before: "non enim cogitant quales ipsi, sed qualibus induti vestibus sint, et quanta pompa rerum fortunæque præfulgeant--sunt enim omnino ridiculi, qui in nuda librorum quantumvis selectissimorum multitudine gloriantur, et inde doctos sese atque admirandos esse persuadent." draudius: _bibliotheca classica_, ed. . epist. ad. lect. spizelius has also a good passage upon the subject, in his description of book-gluttons ("helluones librorum"): "cum immensa pené librorum sit multitudo et varietas, fieri non potest, quin eorum opibus ditescere desiderans (hæres), non assiduam longamque lectionem adhibeat." _infelix literatus_, p. , edit. , vo.] phil. i may want time, and probably inclination, to read these observations: and, at any rate, i should be better pleased with your analysis of them. lysand. that would lead me into a wide field indeed; and, besides, our friend--who i see walking hastily up the garden--is impatient for his breakfast; 'tis better, therefore, that we satisfy just now an appetite of a different kind. phil. but you promise to renew the subject afterwards? lysand. i will make no such promise. if our facetious friend lisardo, who is expected shortly to join us, should happen to direct our attention and the discourse to the sale of malvolio's busts and statues, what favourable opportunity do you suppose could present itself for handling so unpromising a subject as bibliography? phil. well, well, let us hope he will not come: or, if he does, let us take care to carry the point by a majority of votes. i hear the gate bell ring: 'tis lisardo, surely! three minutes afterwards, lisardo and myself, who met in the passage from opposite doors, entered the cabinet. mutual greetings succeeded: and, after a hearty breakfast, the conversation was more systematically renewed. lis. i am quite anxious to give you a description of the fine things which were sold at malvolio's mansion yesterday! amongst colossal minervas, and pigmy fauns and satyrs, a magnificent set of books, in ten or twelve folio volumes (i forget the precise number) in morocco binding, was to be disposed of. lysand. the clementine and florentine museums? lis. no indeed--a much less interesting work. a catalogue of the manuscripts and printed books in the library of the french king, louis the fifteenth. it was odd enough to see such a work in such a sale! phil. you did not probably bid ten guineas for it, lisardo? lis. not ten shillings. what should i do with such books? you know i have a mortal aversion to them, and to every thing connected with bibliographical learning. phil. that arises, i presume, from your profound knowledge of the subject; and, hence, finding it, as solomon found most pursuits, "vanity of vanities, and vexation of spirit." lis. not so, truly! i have taken an aversion to it from mere whim and fancy: or rather from downright ignorance. phil. but i suppose you would not object to be set right upon any subject of which you are ignorant or misinformed? you don't mean to sport _hereditary_ aversions, or hereditary attachments? lis. why, perhaps, something of the kind. my father, who was the best creature upon earth, happened to come into the possession of a huge heap of catalogues of private collections, as well as of booksellers' books--and i remember, on a certain fifth of november, when my little hands could scarcely grasp the lamplighter's link that he bade me set fire to them, and shout forth--"long live the king!"--ever since i have held them in sovereign contempt. phil. i love the king too well to suppose that his life could have been lengthened by any such barbarous act. you were absolutely a little chi ho-am-ti, or omar![ ] perhaps you were not aware that his majesty is in possession of many valuable books, which are described with great care and accuracy in some of these very catalogues. [footnote : pope, in his dunciad, has treated the conflagration of the two great ancient libraries, with his usual poetical skill: "far eastward cast thine eye, from whence the sun and orient science their bright course begun: one god-like monarch all that pride confounds, he, whose long wall the wandering tartar bounds; heavens! what a pile! whole ages perish there, and one bright blaze turns learning into air. thence to the south extend thy gladden'd eyes; there rival flames with equal glory rise, from shelves to shelves see greedy vulcan roll, and lick up all their physic of the soul." "chi ho-am-ti, emperor of china, the same who built the great wall between china and tartary, destroyed all the books and learned men of that empire." "the caliph, omar i. having conquered egypt, caused his general to burn the ptolemean library, on the gates of which was this inscription: '[greek: psychÊs iatreion]:' 'the physic of the soul.'" warburton's note. the last editor of pope's works, (vol. v. .) might have referred us to the very ingenious observations of gibbon, upon the probability of this latter event: see his "_decline and fall of the roman empire_," vol. ix. , &c.] lis. the act, upon reflection, was no doubt sufficiently foolish. but why so warm upon the subject? lysand. let me defend philemon; or at least account for his zeal. just before you came in, he was leading me to give him some account of the rise and progress of bibliography; and was fearful that, from your noted aversion to the subject, you would soon cut asunder the thread of our conversation. lis. if you can convert me to be an admirer of such a subject, or even to endure it, you will work wonders; and, unless you promise to do so, i know not whether i shall suffer you to begin. phil. begin, my dear lysander. a mind disposed to listen attentively is sometimes half converted. o, how i shall rejoice to see this bibliographical incendiary going about to buy up copies of the very works which he has destroyed! listen, i entreat you, lisardo. lis. i am all attention; for i see the clouds gathering in the south, and a gloomy, if not a showery, mid-day, promises to darken this beauteous morning. 'twill not be possible to attend the antiques at malvolio's sale. lysand. whether the sun shine, or the showers fall, i will make an attempt--not to convert, but to state simple truths: provided you "lend me your ears." phil. and our hearts too. begin: for the birds drop their notes, and the outlines of the distant landscape are already dimmed by the drizzling rain. lysand. you call upon me as formally as the shepherds call upon one another to sing in virgil's eclogues. but i will do my best. it is gratifying to the english nation--whatever may have been the strictures of foreigners[ ] upon the paucity of their bibliographico-literary works in the th century--that the earliest printed volume upon the love and advantages of book-collecting was the _philobiblion_[ ] of richard de bury; who was bishop of durham at the close of the th century, and tutor to edward iii. i will at present say nothing about the merits and demerits of this short treatise; only i may be permitted to observe, with satisfaction, that the head of the same see, at the present day, has given many proofs of his attachment to those studies, and of his reward of such merit as attracted the notice of his illustrious predecessor. it is with pain that i am compelled to avow the paucity of publications, in our own country, of a nature similar to the _philobiblion_ of de bury, even for two centuries after it was composed; but while leland was making his library-tour, under the auspices of that capricious tyrant henry viii., many works were planned _abroad_, which greatly facilitated the researches of the learned. [footnote : "anglica gens longe fuit negligentior in consignandis ingeniorum monumentis; nihil enim ab illis prodiit, quod mereatur nominari, cum tamen sint extentque pene innumera ingeniossimæ gentis in omnibus doctrinis scripta, prodeantque quotidie, tam latina, quam vernacula lingua, plura," morhof: _polyhist. literar._ vol. i. , edit. . reimmannus carries his strictures, upon the jealousy of foreigners at the success of the germans in bibliography, with a high hand: "ringantur itali, nasum incurvent galli, supercilium adducant hispani, scita cavilla serant britanni, frendeant, spument, bacchentur ii omnes, qui præstantiam musarum germanicarum limis oculis aspiciunt," &c.--"hoc tamen certum, firmum, ratum, et inconcussum est, germanos primos fuisse in rep. literaria, qui indices librorum generales, speciales et specialissimos conficere, &c. annisi sunt."--a little further, however, he speaks respectfully of our james, hyde, and bernhard. see his ably-written _bibl. acroamatica_, pp. , .] [footnote : "_sive de amore librorum._" the first edition, hitherto so acknowledged, of this entertaining work, was printed at spires, by john and conrad hist, in , to., a book of great rarity--according to clement, vol. v. ; bauer (_suppl. bibl. libr. rarior_, pt. i. ); maichelius, p. ; and morhof, vol. i. . mons. de la serna santander has assigned the date of to this edition: see his _dict. bibliog. chois._ vol. ii. ,--but, above all, consult clement--to whom panzer, vol. iii. p. , very properly refers his readers. and yet some of clement's authorities do not exactly bear him out in the identification of this impression. mattaire, vol. i. , does not appear to have ever seen a copy of it: but, what is rather extraordinary, count macarty has a copy of a cologne edition in to., of the date of . no other edition of it is known to have been printed till the year ; when two impressions of this date were published at paris, in to.: the one by philip for petit, of which both clement and fabricius (_bibl. med. et inf. Ætat._ vol. i. , &c.) were ignorant; but of which, a copy, according to panzer, vol. ii. , should seem to be in the public library at gottingen; the other, by badius ascensius, is somewhat more commonly known. a century elapsed before this work was deemed deserving of republication; when the country that had given birth to, and the university that had directed the studies of, its illustrious author, put forth an inelegant reprint of it in to. --from which some excerpts will be found in the ensuing pages--but in the meantime the reader may consult the title-page account of herbert, vol. iii. p. . of none of these latter editions were the sharp eyes of clement ever blessed with a sight of a copy! see his _bibl. curcuse_, &c. vol. v. . the th century made some atonement for the negligence of the past, in regard to richard de bury. at frankfort his _philobiblion_ was reprinted, with "a century of philological letters," collected by goldastus, in , vo--and this same work appeared again, at leipsic, in , vo. at length the famous schmidt put forth an edition, with some new pieces, "typis et sumtibus georgii wolffgangii hammii, acad. typog. ," to. of this latter edition, neither maichelius nor the last editor of morhof take notice. it may be worth while adding that the subscription in red ink, which fabricius (_ibid._) notices as being subjoined to a vellum ms. of this work, in his own possession--and which states that it was finished at auckland, in the year , in the th of its author, and at the close of the th year of his episcopacy--may be found, in substance, in hearne's edition of leland's _collectanea_, vol. ii. , edit. .] among the men who first helped to clear away the rubbish that impeded the progress of the student, was the learned and modest conrad gesner; at once a scholar, a philosopher, and a bibliographer: and upon whom julius scaliger, theodore beza, and de thou, have pronounced noble eulogiums.[ ] his _bibliotheca universalis_ was the first thing, since the discovery of the art of printing, which enabled the curious to become acquainted with the works of preceding authors: thus kindling, by the light of such a lamp, the fire of emulation among his contemporaries and successors. i do not pretend to say that the _bibliotheca_ of gesner is any thing like perfect, even as far as it goes: but, considering that the author had to work with his own materials alone, and that the degree of fame and profit attached to such a publication was purely speculative, he undoubtedly merits the thanks of posterity for having completed it even in the manner in which it has come down to us. consider gesner as the father of bibliography; and if, at the sale of malvolio's busts, there be one of this great man, purchase it, good lisardo, and place it over the portico of your library. [footnote : his _bibliotheca_, or _catalogus universalis, &c._, was first printed in a handsome folio volume at zurich, . lycosthyne put forth a wretched abridgement of this work, which was printed by the learned oporinus, in to., . robert constantine, the lexicographer, also abridged and published it in , paris, vo.; and william canter is said by labbe to have written notes upon simler's edition, which baillet took for granted to be in existence, and laments not to have seen them; but he is properly corrected by de la monnoye, who reminds us that it was a mere report, which labbe gave as he found it. i never saw simler's own editions of his excellent abridgement and enlargement of it in and ; but frisius published it, with great improvements, in , fol., adding many articles, and abridging and omitting many others. although this latter edition be called the _edit. opt._ it will be evident that the _editio originalis_ is yet a desideratum in every bibliographical collection. nor indeed does frisius's edition take away the necessity of consulting a supplement to gesner, which appeared at the end of the _bibliothéque françoise_ of du verdier, . it may be worth stating that hallevordius's _bibliotheca curiòsa_, , , to., is little better than a supplement to the preceding work. the _pandects_ of gesner, , fol. are also well worth the bibliographer's notice. each of the books, of which the volume is composed, is preceded by an interesting dedicatory epistle to some eminent printer of day. consult baillet's _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii. p. . _bibl. creven._ vol. v. p. ; upon this latter work more particularly; and morhof's _polyhistor. literar._ vol. i. , and vogt's _catalog. libr. rarior._, p. : upon the former. although the _dictionnaire historique_, published at caen, in , notices the botanical and lexicographical works of gesner, it has omitted to mention these pandects: which however, are uncommon.] lis. all this is very well. proceed with the patriarchal age of your beloved bibliography. lysand. i was about resuming, with observing that our bale speedily imitated the example of gesner, in putting forth his _britanniæ scriptores_;[ ] the materials of the greater part of which were supplied by leland. this work is undoubtedly necessary to every englishman, but its errors are manifold. let me now introduce to your notice the little work of florian trefler, published in ;[ ] also the first thing in its kind, and intimately connected with our present subject. the learned, it is true, were not much pleased with it; but it afforded a rough outline upon which naudæus afterwards worked, and produced, as you will find, a more pleasing and perfect picture. a few years after this, appeared the _erotemata_ of michael neander;[ ] in the long and learned preface to which, and in the catalogue of his and of melancthon's works subjoined, some brilliant hints of a bibliographical nature were thrown out, quite sufficient to inflame the lover of book-anecdotes with a desire of seeing a work perfected according to such a plan: but neander was unwilling, or unable, to put his design into execution. bibliography, however, now began to make rather a rapid progress; and, in france, the ancient writers of history and poetry seemed to live again in the _bibliotheque françoise_ of la croix du maine and du verdier.[ ] nor were the contemporaneous similar efforts of cardona to be despised: a man, indeed, skilled in various erudition, and distinguished for his unabating perseverance in examining all the mss. and printed books that came in his way. the manner, slight as it was, in which cardona[ ] mentioned the vatican library, aroused the patriotic ardor of pansa; who published his _bibliotheca vaticana_, in the italian language, in the year ; and in the subsequent year appeared the rival production of angelus roccha, written in latin, under the same title.[ ] the magnificent establishment of the vatican press, under the auspices of pope sixtus v. and clement viii. and under the typographical direction of the grandson of aldus,[ ] called forth these publications--which might, however, have been executed with more splendour and credit. [footnote : the first edition of this work, under the title of "_illustrium maioris britanniæ scriptorum, hoc est, anglæ, cambriæ, ac scotiæ summarium, in quasnam centurias divisum, &c._," was printed at ipswich, in , to., containing three supposed portraits of bale, and a spurious one of wicliffe. of the half length portrait of bale, upon a single leaf, as noticed by herbert, vol. iii. , i have doubts about its appearance in all the copies. the above work was again published at basil, by opornius, in , fol., greatly enlarged and corrected, with a magnificent half length portrait of bale, from which the one in a subsequent part of this work was either copied on a reduced scale, or of which it was the prototype. his majesty has perhaps the finest copy of this last edition of bale's _scriptores britanniæ_, in existence.] [footnote : "les savans n'ont nullemont été satisfaits des règles prescrites par florian treffer (trefler) le premièr dont on connoisse un écrit sur ce sujet [de la disposition des livres dans une bibliothèque]. sa méthode de classer les livres fut imprimée à augsbourg en ." camus: _memoires de l'institut_. vol. i. . the title is "methodus ordinandi bibliothecam," augustæ, . the extreme rarity of this book does not appear to have arisen from its utility--if the authority quoted by vogt, p. , edit. , may be credited. bauer repeats vogt's account; and teisser, morhof, and baillet, overlook the work.] [footnote : it would appear, from morhof, that neander meditated the publication of a work similar to the _pandects_ of gesner; which would, in all probability, have greatly excelled it. the "_erotemata græcæ linguæ_" was published at basil in , vo. consult _polyhist. liter._ vol. i. : _jugemens des savans_, vol. iii. art. , but more particularly niceron's _memoires des hommes illustres_, vol. xxx. in regard to neander, vogt has given the title at length (a sufficiently tempting one!) calling the work "very rare," and the preface of neander (which is twice the length of the work) "curious and erudite." see his _catalog. libror. rarior._, p. , edit. .] [footnote : la croix du maine's book appeared toward the end of the year ; and that of his coadjutor, anthony verdier, in the beginning of the subsequent year. they are both in folio, and are usually bound in one volume. of these works, the first is the rarest and best executed; but the very excellent edition of both of them, by de la monnoye and juvigny, in six volumes, to., , which has realized the patriotic wishes of baillet, leaves nothing to be desired in the old editions--and these are accordingly dropping fast into annihilation. it would appear from an advertisement of de bure, subjoined to his catalogue of count macarty's books, , vo., that there were then remaining only eleven copies of this new edition upon large paper, which were sold for one hundred and twenty livres. claude verdier, son of antony, who published a supplement to gesner's bibliotheca, and a "_censio auctorum omnium veterum et recentiorum_," affected to censure his father's work, and declared that nothing but parental respect could have induced him to consent to its publication--but consult the _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii. - , upon claude's filial affection; and morhof's _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., , concerning the "censio," &c.--"misere," exclaims morhof, "ille corvos deludit hiantes: nam ubi censuram suam exercet, manifestum hominis phrenesin facile deprehendas!" the ancient editions are well described in _bibl. creven._, vol. v., - , edit. --but more particularly by de bure, nos. - . a copy of the ancient edition was sold at west's sale for _l._ _s._ see _bibl. west._, no. .] [footnote : john baptist cardona, a learned and industrious writer, and bishop of tortosa, published a quarto volume at tarracona, in , to.--comprehending the following four pieces: . _de regia sancti lamentii bibliotheca_: . _de bibliothecis_ (_ex fulvio ursino_,) et _de bibliotheca vaticana (ex omphrii schedis)_: . _de expurgandis hæreticorum propriis nominibus_: . _de dipthycis_. of these, the first, in which he treats of collecting all manner of useful books, and having able librarians, and in which he strongly exhorts philip ii. to put the escurial library into good order, is the most valuable to the bibliographer. vogt, p. , gives us two authorities to shew the rarity of this book; and baillet refers us to the _bibliotheca hispana_ of antonio.] [footnote : mutius panza's work, under the title of _ragionamenti della libraria vaticana_, rome, , to., and angelus roccha's, that of _bibliotheca apostolica vaticana, rome_, , to., relate rather to the ornaments of architecture and painting, than to a useful and critical analysis, or a numbered catalogue, of the books within the vatican library. the authors of both are accused by morhof of introducing quite extraneous and uninteresting matter. roccha's book, however, is worth possessing, as it is frequently quoted by bibliographers. how far it may be "liber valde quidem rarus," as vogt intimates, i will not pretend to determine. it has a plate of the vatican library, and another of st. peter's cathedral. the reader may consult, also, the _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., p. . my copy of this work, purchased at the sale of dr. heath's books, has a few pasted printed slips in the margins--some of them sufficiently curious.] [footnote : consult renouard's _l'imprimerie des alde_, vol. ii., , &c. one of the grandest works which ever issued from the vatican press, under the superintendence of aldus, was the vulgate bible of pope sixtus v., , fol., the copies of which, upon large paper, are sufficiently well known and coveted. a very pleasing and satisfactory account of this publication will be found in the _horæ biblicæ_ of mr. charles butler, a gentleman who has long and justly maintained the rare character of a profound lawyer, an elegant scholar, and a well-versed antiquary and philologist.] let us here not forget that the celebrated lipsius condescended to direct his talents to the subject of libraries; and his very name, as baillet justly remarks, "is sufficient to secure respect for his work," however slender it may be.[ ] we now approach, with the mention of lipsius, the opening of the th century; a period singularly fertile in bibliographical productions. i will not pretend to describe, minutely, even the leading authors in this department. the works of puteanus can be only slightly alluded to, in order to notice the more copious and valuable ones of possevinus and of schottus;[ ] men who were ornaments to their country, and whose literary and bibliographical publications have secured to them the gratitude of posterity. while the labours of these authors were enriching the republic of literature, and kindling all around a love of valuable and curious books, the _bibliotheca historica_ of bolduanus, and the _bibliotheca classica_ of draudius[ ] highly gratified the generality of readers, and enabled the student to select, with greater care and safety, such editions of authors as were deserving of a place in their libraries. [footnote : lipsius published his _syntagma de bibliothecis_, at antwerp, in , to., "in quo de ritibus variis et antiquitatibus circa rem bibliothecariam agitur." an improved edition of it, by maderus, was printed at helmstadt, in , to., with other curious bibliographical opuscula. a third edition of it was put forth by schmid, at the same place, in , to. consult morhof. _poly. lit._, vol. i., .] [footnote : "scripsit et erycius puteanus librum _de usu bibliothecæ et quidem speciatim bibliothecæ ambrosianæ mediol._, in vo., , editum, aliumque, cui titulus _auspicia bibliothecæ lovaniensis_, an. , in to." morhof. "it is true," says baillet, "that this puteanus passed for a gossipping sort of writer, and for a great maker of little books, but he was, notwithstanding, a very clever fellow." _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., . in the _bibl. crev._, vol. v., , will be found one of his letters, never before published. he died in . possevinus published a _bibliotheca selecta_ and _apparatus sacer_--of the former of which, the cologne edition of , folio, and of the latter, that of , are esteemed the most complete. the first work is considered by morhof as less valuable than the second. the "_apparatus_" he designates as a book of rather extraordinary merit and utility. of the author of both these treatises, some have extolled his talents to the skies, others have depreciated them in proportion. his literary character, however, upon the whole, places him in the first class of bibliographers. consult the _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., . he was one of the earliest bibliographers who attacked the depraved taste of the italian printers in adopting licentious capital-initial letters. catherinot, in his _art d'imprimer_, p. , makes the same complaint: so baillet informs us, vol. i., pt. i., p. , edit. : vol. iii., pt. , p. . schottus's work, _de bibl. claris hispaniæ viris, france_, , to., is forgotten in the splendour of antonio's similar production; but it had great merit in its day. _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., pt. , , edit. .] [footnote : bolduanus published a _theological_ (jenæ, ) and _philosophico philological_ (jenæ, ), as well as an _historical_ (lipsiæ, ), library; but the latter work has the pre-eminence. yet the author lived at too great a distance, wanting the requisite materials, and took his account chiefly from the frankfort catalogues--some of which were sufficiently erroneous. _polyhist. literar._ vol. i., . see also the very excellent historical catalogue, comprehending the st chap. of meusel's new edition of struvius's _bibl. histor._, vol. i., p. . draudius's work is more distinguished for its arrangement than for its execution in detail. it was very useful, however, at the period when it was published. my edition is of the date of , to.: but a second appeared at frankfort, in , to.] the name of du chesne can never be pronounced by a sensible frenchman without emotions of gratitude. his _bibliotheca historiarum galliæ_ first published in the year , vo.--although more immediately useful to foreigners than to ourselves, is nevertheless worth mentioning. morhof, if i recollect aright, supposes there was a still later edition; but he probably confused with this work the _series auctorum, &c. de francorum historia_;[ ] of which two handsome folio editions were published by cramoisy. french writers of bibliographical eminence now begin to crowd fast upon us. [footnote : the reader will find a good account of some of the scarcer works of du chesne in vogt's _catalog. libror. rarior._, p. , &c., and of the life and literary labours of this illustrious man in the th volume of niceron's _memoires des hommes illustres_.] lis. but what becomes of the english, spanish, and italian bibliographers all this while? lysand. the reproach of morhof is i fear too just; namely that, although we had produced some of the most learned, ingenious, and able men in europe--lovers and patrons of literature--yet our librarians, or university scholars, were too lazy to acquaint the world with the treasures which were contained in the several libraries around them.[ ] you cannot expect a field-marshal, or a statesman in office, or a nobleman, or a rich man of extensive connections, immersed in occupations both pressing and unavoidable--doggedly to set down to a _catalogue raisonné_ of his books, or to an analysis of the different branches of literature--while his presence is demanded in the field, in the cabinet, or in the senate--or while all his bells, at home, from the massive outer gate to the retired boudoir, are torn to pieces with ringing and jingling at the annunciation of visitors--you cannot, i say, my good lisardo, call upon a person, thus occupied, to produce--or expect from him, in a situation thus harassed, the production of--any solid bibliographical publication; but you have surely a right to expect that librarians, or scholars, who spend the greater part of their time in public libraries, will vouchsafe to apply their talents in a way which may be an honour to their patrons, and of service to their country.[ ] not to walk with folded arms from one extremity of a long room (of feet) to another, and stop at every window to gaze on an industrious gardener, or watch the slow progress of a melancholy crow "making wing to the rooky wood," nor yet, in winter, to sit or stand inflexibly before the fire, with a duodecimo jest book or novel in their hands--but to look around and catch, from the sight of so much wisdom and so much worth, a portion of that laudable emulation with which the gesners, the baillets, and the le longs were inspired; to hold intimate acquaintance with the illustrious dead; to speak to them without the fear of contradiction; to exclaim over their beauties without the dread of ridicule, or of censure; to thank them for what they have done in transporting us to other times, and introducing us to other worlds; and constantly to feel a deep and unchangeable conviction of the necessity of doing all the good in our power, and in our way, for the benefit of those who are to survive us! [footnote : see the note at p. , ante. "it is a pity," says morhof, "that the _dutch_ had such little curiosity about the literary history of their country--but the _english_ were yet more negligent and incurious."--and yet, germany, france, and italy, had already abounded with treasures of this kind!!] [footnote : senebier, who put forth a very useful and elegantly printed catalogue of the mss. in the public library of geneva, , vo., has the following observations upon this subject--which i introduce with a necessary proviso, or caution, that _now-a-days_ his reproaches cannot affect us. we are making ample amends for past negligence; for, to notice no others, the labours of those gentlemen who preside over the british museum abundantly prove our present industry. thus speaks senebier: 'ill sembleroit d'abord étonnant qu'on ait tant tradé à composer le catalogue des manuscripts de la bibliothéque de genéve; mais on peut faire plus raisonnablement ce reproche aux bibliothécaires bien payés et uniquement occupés de leur vocation, qui sont les dépositaires de tant de collections précieuses qu'on voit en italie, en france, en allemagne, et en angleterre; ils le mériteront d'autant mieux, qu'ils privent le public des piéces plus précieuses, et qu'ils ont plusieurs aids intelligens qui peuvent les dispenser de la partie le plus méchanique et la plus ennuyeuse de ce travail,' &c.] phil. hear him, hear him![ ] [footnote : this mode of exclamation or expression, like that of _cheering_ (vide p. , ante) is also peculiar to our own country; and it is uttered by both friend and foe. thus, in the senate, when a speaker upon one side of the question happens to put an argument in a strong point of view, those of the same party or mode of thinking exclaim--_hear him, hear him!_ and if he should happen to state any thing that may favour the views, or the mode of thinking, of his opponents, these latter also take advantage of his eloquence, and exclaim, _hear him, hear him!_ happy the man whom friend and foe alike delight to hear!] lis. but what is become, in the while, of the english, italian, and spanish bibliographers--in the seventeenth century? lysand. i beg pardon for the digression; but the less we say of these, during this period, the better; and yet you must permit me to recommend to you the work of pitseus, our countryman, which grows scarcer every day.[ ] we left off, i think, with the mention of du chesne's works. just about this time came forth the elegant little work of naudÆus;[ ] which i advise you both to purchase, as it will cost you but a few shillings, and of the aspect of which you may inform yourselves by taking it down from yonder shelf. quickly afterwards claude clement, "haud passibus æquis," put forth his _bibliothecæ tam privatæ quam publicæ[ ] extructio_, &c.; a work, condemned by the best bibliographical judges. but the splendour of almost every preceding bibliographer's reputation was eclipsed by that arising from the extensive and excellent publications of louis jacob;[ ] a name at which, if we except those of fabricius and muratori, diligence itself stands amazed; and concerning whose life and labours it is to be regretted that we have not more extended details. the harsh and caustic manner in which labbe and morhof have treated the works of gaddius,[ ] induce me only to mention his name, and to warn you against looking for much corn in a barn choked with chaff. we now approach the close of the seventeenth century; when, stopping for a few minutes only, to pay our respects to cinelli, conringius, and lomeier,[ ] we must advance to do homage to the more illustrious names of labbe, lambecius, and baillet; not forgetting, however, the equally respectable ones of antonio and lipenius. [footnote : pitseus's work "_de rebus anglicis_," paris, , to., vol. i., was written in opposition to bale's (vid. p. , ante). the author was a learned roman catholic; but did not live to publish the second volume. i was glad to give mr. ford, of manchester, _l._ _s._ for a stained and badly bound copy of it.] [footnote : "gabriele naudÆo nemo vixit suo tempore [greek: empeirias] bibliothecariæ peritior:" _polyhist. liter._, vol. i., . "naudæi scripta omnia et singula præstantissima sunt," vogt, p. . "les ouvrages de naudé firent oublier ce qui les avoient précédé." camus, _mem. de l'institut._, vol. i., . after these eulogies, who will refuse this author's "_avis pour dresser une bibliothéque_, paris, , , vo." a place upon his shelf? unluckily, it rarely comes across the search of the keenest collector. the other, yet scarcer, productions of naudé will be found well described in vogt's _catalog. libror. rarior._, p. . the reader of ancient politics may rejoice in the possession of what is called, the "_mascurat_"--and "_considerations politiques_"--concerning which vogt is gloriously diffuse; and peignot (who has copied from him, without acknowledgement--_bibliogr. curieuse_, pp. , ,) may as well be consulted. but the bibliographer will prefer the "_additions à l'histoire de louis xi._," , vo., and agree with mailchelius that a work so uncommon and so curious "ought to be reprinted." see the latter's amusing little book "_de præcipuis bibliothecis parisiensibus_," pp. , , &c. naudæus was librarian to the famous cardinal mazarin, the great mæcenas of his day; whose library, consisting of upwards of forty thousand volumes, was the most beautiful and extensive one which france had then ever seen. its enthusiastic librarian, whom i must be allowed to call a very wonderful bibliomaniac, made constant journeys, and entered into a perpetual correspondence, relating to books and literary curiosities. he died at abbeville in , in his rd year, on returning from sweden, where the famous christian had invited him. naudæus's "_avis, &c._", [ut supr.] was translated by chaline; but his "_avis à nosseigneurs du parlement, &c._" , to.--upon the sale of the cardinal's library--and his "_remise de la bihliothéque_ [transcriber's note: bibliothèque] [du cardinal] _entre le mains de m. tubeuf_, ," are much scarcer productions. a few of these particulars are gathered from peignot's _dict. de la bibliolologie_ [transcriber's note: bibliologie], vol. ii., p. --consult also his _dict. portatif de bibliographie_, p. v. in the former work i expected a copious piece of biography; yet, short as it is, peignot has subjoined a curious note from naudé's "_considerations politiques_"--in which the author had the hardihood to defend the massacre upon st. bartholomew's day, by one of the strangest modes of reasoning ever adopted by a rational being.] [footnote : this work, in four books, was published at lyons, , to. if it be not quite "much ado about nothing"--it exhibits, at least, a great waste of ink and paper. morhof seems to seize with avidity baillet's lively sentence of condemnation--"il y a trop de babil et trop de ce que nous appellons _fatras_," &c.] [footnote : le pere louys jacob published his "_traicté des plus belles bibliothéques publiques et particulières, qui ont esté, et qui sont à présents dans le monde_," at paris, in --again in , vo.--in which he first brought together the scattered notices relating to libraries, especially to modern ones. his work is well worth consultation; although baillet and morhof do not speak in direct terms of praise concerning it--and the latter seems a little angry at his giving the preference to the parisian libraries over those of other countries. it must be remembered that this was published as an unfinished production: as such, the author's curiosity and research are highly to be commended. i have read the greater part of it with considerable satisfaction. the same person meditated the execution of a vast work in four folio volumes--called "_la bibliothéque universelle de tous les autheurs de france, qui ont escrits en quelque sorte de sciences et de langues_"--which, in fact, was completed in : but, on the death of the author it does not appear what became of it. jacob also gave an account of books as they were published at paris, and in other parts of france, from the year to ; which was printed under the title of _bibliographia parisina_, paris, , to. consult _polyhist. liter._, vol. i., pp. , : _bibl. creven._, vol. v., pp. , . _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : he published a work entitled "_de scriptoribus non-ecclesiasticis_," , vol. i., , vol. ii., folio: in which his opinions upon authors are given in the most jejune and rash manner. his other works, which would form a little library, are reviewed by leti with sufficient severity: but the poor man was crack brained! and yet some curious and uncommon things, gleaned from mss. which had probably never been unrolled or opened since their execution, are to be found in this "sciolum florentinum," as labbe calls him. consult the _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : magliabechi put cinelli upon publishing his bibliotheca volante, , vo., a pretty work, with a happy title!--being an indiscriminate account of some rare books which the author picked up in his travels, or saw in libraries. it was republished, with valuable additions, by sancassani, at venice, in , to. see _cat. de lomenie_, no. . works of this sort form the ana of bibliography! conringius compiled a charming bibliographical work, in an epistolary form, under the title of _bibliotheca augusta_; which was published at helmstadt, in , to.--being an account of the library of the duke of brunswick, in the castle of wolfenbuttle. two thousand manuscripts, and one hundred and sixteen thousand printed volumes, were then contained in this celebrated collection. happy the owner of such treasures--happy the man who describes them! lomeier's, or lomejer's "_de bibliothecis liber singularis_," ultraj, - , vo., is considered by baillet among the best works upon the subject of ancient and modern libraries. from this book, le sieur le gallois stole the most valuable part of his materials for his "_traité des plus belles bibliothéques de l'europe_," , -- mo.: the title at full length (a sufficiently imposing one!) may be seen in _bibé. crevenn._, vol. v., p. ; upon this latter treatise, morhof cuttingly remarks--"magnos ille titulus strepitus facit: sed pro thesauris carbones." _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., p. . see also "_jugemens des savans_," vol. ii., p. . gallois dispatches the english libraries in little more than a page. i possess the second edition of lomeier's book ( --with both its title pages), which is the last and best--and an interesting little volume it is! the celebrated grævius used to speak very favourably of this work.] lis. pray discuss their works, or merits, _seriatim_, as the judges call it; for i feel overwhelmed at the stringing together of such trisyllabic names. these gentlemen, as well as almost every one of their predecessors, are strangers to me; and you know my bashfulness and confusion in such sort of company. lysand. i hope to make you better acquainted with them after a slight introduction, and so rid you of such an uncomfortable diffidence. let us begin with labbe,[ ] who died in the year , and in the sixtieth of his own age; a man of wonderful memory and of as wonderful application--whose whole life, according to his biographers, was consumed in gathering flowers from his predecessors, and thence weaving such a chaplet for his own brows as was never to know decay. his _nova bibliotheca_, and _bibliotheca bibliothecarum manuscriptorum_, are the principal works which endear his memory to bibliographers. more learned than labbe was lambecius;[ ] whose _commentarii de bibliotheca cæsareâ-vindobonensis_, with nesselius's supplement to the same, [ , vols. fol.] and kollarius's new edition of both, form one of the most curious and important, as well as elaborate, productions in the annals of literature and bibliography. less extensive, but more select, valuable, and accurate, in its choice and execution of objects, is the _bibliotheca hispana vetus et nova_ of nicholas antonio;[ ] the first, and the best, bibliographical work which spain, notwithstanding her fine palaces and libraries, has ever produced. if neither philemon nor yourself, lisardo, possess this latter work [and i do not see it upon the shelves of this cabinet], seek for it with avidity; and do not fear the pistoles which the purchase of it may cost you. lipenius[ ] now claims a moment's notice; of whose _bibliotheca realis_ morhof is inclined to speak more favourably than other critics. 'tis in six volumes; and it appeared from the years to inclusive. not inferior to either of the preceding authors in taste, erudition, and the number and importance of his works, was adrien baillet;[ ] the simple pastor of lardiéres, and latterly the learned and indefatigable librarian of lamoignon. his _jugemens des savans_, edited by de la monnoye, is one of those works with which no man, fond of typographical and bibliographical pursuits, can comfortably dispense. i had nearly forgotten to warn you against the capricious works of beughem; a man, nevertheless, of wonderful mental elasticity; but for ever planning schemes too vast and too visionary for the human powers to execute.[ ] [footnote : "vir, qui in texendis catalogis totam pene vitam consumpsit." "homo ad lexica et catalogos conficiendos a naturâ factus." such is morhof's account of labbe; who, in the works above-mentioned, in the text, has obtained an unperishable reputation as a bibliographer. the _bibliotheca bibliothecarum_, thick duodecimo, or crown octavo, has run through several impressions; of which the leipsic edit. of , is as good as any; but teisser, in his work under the same title, , to., has greatly excelled labbe's production, as well by his corrections of errata as by his additions of some hundreds of authors. the _bibliotheca nummaria_ is another of labbe's well-known performances: in the first part of which he gives an account of those who have written concerning medals--in the second part, of those who have publishe [transcriber's note: published] separate accounts of coins, weights, and measures. this is usually appended to the preceding work, and is so published by teisser. the _mantissa suppellectilis_ was an unfinished production; and the _specimen novæ bibliothecæ manuscriptorum librorum_, paris, , to., is too imperfectly executed for the exercise of rigid criticism; although baillet calls it 'useful and curious.' consult the _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., , : and _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., pt. , p. , edit. . a list of labbe's works, finished, unfinished, and projected, was published at paris, in and . he was joint editor with cossart of that tremendously voluminous work--the "collectio maxima conciliorum"-- , volumes, folio.] [footnote : lambecius died at, one may almost say, the premature age of : and the above work (in eight folio volumes), which was left unfinished in consequence, (being published between the years - inclusive) gives us a magnificent idea of what its author would have accomplished [see particularly reimanni _bibl. acroamatica_, p. ] had it pleased providence to prolong so valuable an existence. it was originally sold for _imperiali_; but at the commencement of the th century for not less than _thaleri_, and a copy of it was scarcely ever to be met with. two reasons have been assigned for its great rarity, and especially for that of the th volume; the one, that lambecius's heir, impatient at the slow sale of the work, sold many copies of it to the keepers of herb-stalls: the other, that, when the author was lying on his death-bed, his servant maid, at the suggestion and from the stinginess of the same heir, burnt many copies of this eighth volume [which had recently left the press] to light the fire in the chamber. this intelligence i glean from vogt, p. : it had escaped baillet and morhof. but consult de bure, vol. vi., nos. - . reimannus published a _bibliotheca acroamatica_, hanov., , vo., which is both an entertaining volume and a useful compendium of lambecius's immense work. but in the years - , kollarius published a new and improved edition of the entire commentaries, in six folio volumes; embodying in this gigantic undertaking the remarks which were scattered in his "_analecta monumentorum omnis ævi vindobonensia_," in two folio volumes, . a posthumous work of kollarius, as a supplement to his new edition of lambecius's commentaries, was published in one folio volume, . a complete set of these volumes of kollarius's bibliographical labours, relating to the vienna library, was in serna santander's catalogue, vol. iv., no. , as well as in krohn's: in which latter [nos. , ] there are some useful notices. see my account of m. denis: post. critics have accused these "commentaries concerning the mss. in the imperial library at vienna," as containing a great deal of rambling and desultory matter; but the vast erudition, minute research, and unabateable diligence of its author, will for ever secure to him the voice of public praise, as loud and as hearty as he has received it from his abridger reimannus. in these volumes appeared the first account of the psalter, printed at mentz in , which was mistaken by lambecius for a ms. the reader will forgive my referring him to a little essay upon this and the subsequent psalters, printed at mentz, in , , &c., which was published by me in the nd volume of the _athenæum_, p. , .] [footnote : morhof considers the labours of antonio as models of composition in their way. his grand work began to be published in , vols., folio--being the _bibliotheca hispana nova_: this was succeeded, in , by the _bibliotheca hispana antiqua_--in two folio volumes: the prefaces and indexes contain every thing to satisfy the hearts of spanish literati. a new edition of the first work was published at madrid, in , vols., folio; and of the latter work, in , vols., folio.--these recent editions are very rarely to be met with in our own country: abroad, they seem to have materially lowered the prices of the ancient ones, which had become excessively scarce. see _polyhist literar._, vol. i., - : _dictionn. bibliogr._, vol. iv., p. : and _mem. de l'inst._, vol. i., . let us here not forget the learned michael casiri's _bibliotheca arabico-hispana escorialensis_, published in two superb folio volumes at madrid in . all these useful and splendid works place the spaniards upon a high footing with their fellow-labourers in the same respectable career. de la serna santander tells us that casiri's work is dear, and highly respected by the literati. see _cap. de santander_, vol iv., no. .] [footnote : the _bibliotheca realis_, &c., of lipenius contains an account of works published in the departments of _jurisprudence_, _medicine_, _philosophy_, and _theology_: of these, the _bibliotheca theologica_, et _philosophica_, are considered by morhof as the best executed. the _bibl. juridica_ was, however, republished at leipsic in two folio volumes, , with considerable additions. this latter is the last leipsic reprint of it. saxius notices only the re-impressions of , , . see his _onomast. lit._, vol. v., . i will just notice the _bibliotheca vetus et recens_ of koenigius, , folio--as chart-makers notice shoals--to be avoided. i had long thrown it out of my own collection before i read its condemnation by morhof. perhaps the following account of certain works, which appear to have escaped the recollection of lysander, may not be unacceptable. in the year , father raynaud, whose lucubrations fill folio volumes, published a quarto volume at lyons, under the title of "_erotemata de malis ac bonis libris, deque justa aut injusta eorum conditione_;" which he borowed [transcriber's note: borrowed] in part from the "_theotimus, seu de tollendis et expurgandis malis libris_," (paris, , vo.) of gabriel puhtherb. of these two works, if [transcriber's note: it] were difficult to determine which is preferable. the bibliographer need not deeply lament the want of either: consult the _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., . in the year , vogler published a very sensible "_universalis in notitiam cujusque generis bonorum scriptorum introductio_"--of this work two subsequent editions, one in , the other in , to., were published at helmstadt. the last is the best; but the second, to him who has neither, is also worth purchasing. the seven dissertations "_de libris legendis_" of bartholin, hafniæ, , vo., are deserving of a good coat and a front row in the bibliographer's cabinet. "parvæ quidem molis liberest, sed in quo quasi constipata sunt utilissima de libris monita et notitiæ ad multas disciplinas utiles." so speaks morhof.] [footnote : adrien baillet was the eldest of seven children born in a second marriage. his parents were in moderate circumstances: but adrien very shortly displaying a love of study and of book-collecting, no means, compatible with their situation, were left untried by his parents to gratify the wishes of so promising a child. from his earliest youth, he had a strong predilection for the church; and as a classical and appropriate education was then easily to be procured in france, he went from school to college, and at seventeen years of age had amassed, in two fair sized volumes, a quantity of extracts from clever works; which, perhaps having beza's example in his mind, he entitled _juvenilia_. his masters saw and applauded his diligence; and a rest of only five hours each night, during two years and a half of this youthful period, afforded baillet such opportunities of acquiring knowledge as rarely fall to the lot of a young man. this habit of short repose had not forsaken him in his riper years: "he considered and treated his body as an insolent enemy, which required constant subjection; he would not suffer it to rest more than five hours each night; he recruited it with only one meal a day--drank no wine--never came near the fire--and walked out but once a week." the consequence of this absurd regime was that baillet had ulcers in his legs, an erysipelatous affection over his body, and was, in other respects, afflicted as sedentary men usually are, who are glued to their seats from morn till night, never mix in society, and rarely breathe the pure air of heaven. these maladies shortened the days of baillet; after he had faithfully served the lamoignons as a librarian of unparalleled diligence and sagacity; leaving behind him a "_catalogue des matieres_," in volumes folio. "all the curious used to come and see this catalogue: many bishops and magistrates requested to have either copies or abridgments of it." when baillet was dragged, by his friend m. hermant, from his obscure vicarage of lardiéres, to be lamoignon's librarian, he seems to have been beside himself for joy.--"i want a man of such and such qualities," said lamoignon.--"i will bring one exactly to suit you," replied hermant--"but you must put up with a diseased and repulsive exterior."--"nous avons besoin de fond," said the sensible patron, "la forme ne m'embarasse point; l'air de ce pays, et un grain de sel discret, fera le reste: il en trouvera ici." baillet came, and his biographer tells us that lamoignon and hermant "furent ravis de le voir." to the eternal honour of the family in which he resided, the crazy body and nervous mind of baillet met with the tenderest treatment. madame lamoignon and her son (the latter, a thorough bred bibliomaniac; who, under the auspices of his master, soon eclipsed the book celebrity of his father) always took a pleasure in anticipating his wishes, soothing his irritabilities, promoting his views, and speaking loudly and constantly of the virtues of his head and heart. the last moments of baillet were marked with true christian piety and fortitude; and his last breath breathed a blessing upon his benefactors. he died a.d. , ætatis . rest his ashes in peace!--and come we now to his bibliographical publications. his "_jugemens des savans_," was first published in , &c., in nine duodecimo volumes. two other similar volumes of _anti baillet_ succeeded it. the success and profits of this work were very considerable. in the year , a new edition of it in seven volumes, quarto, was undertaken and completed by de la monnoye, with notes by the editor, and additions of the original author. the "anti baillet" formed the th volume. in the year , de la monnoye's edition, with his notes placed under the text--the corrections and additions incorporated--and two volumes of fresh matter, including the anti baillet--was republished at amsterdam, in eight duodecimo volumes, forming parts, and being, in every respect, the best edition of the _jugemens des savans_. the curious, however, should obtain the portrait of baillet prefixed to the edition of ; as the copy of it in the latter edition is a most wretched performance. these particulars, perhaps a little too long and tedious, are gleaned from the "abregé" de la vie de baillet, printed in the two last editions of the work just described.] [footnote : it will not be necessary to notice _all_ the multifarious productions, in ms. and in print, of this indefatigable bibliographer; who had cut out work enough for the lives of ten men, each succeeding the other, and well employed from morn 'till even, to execute. this is marchand's round criticism: _dict. hist._ vol. i., p. . beughem's _incunabula typographica_, , mo., is both jejune and grossly erroneous. the "_bibliographia eruditorum critico-curiosa_," , , vols., mo., being an alphabetical account of writers--extracts from whom are in the public literary journals of europe from to --with the title of their works--is beughem's best production, and if each volume had not had a separate alphabet, and contained additions upon additions, the work would have proved highly useful. his "_gallia euridita_," amst., , mo., is miserably perplexing. in addition to marchand, consult the _polyhist. literar._ of morhof, vol. i., p. ; and the note therein subjoined. see also "_bibl. creven._," vol. v., p. : _cat. de santander_, vol. iv., nos. - : - .] phil. you have at length reached the close of the th century; but my limited knowledge of bibliographical literature supplies me with the recollection of two names which you have passed over: i mean, thomas blount and antony-a-wood. there is surely something in these authors relating to editions of the works of the learned. lysand. you have anticipated me in the mention of these names. i had not forgotten them. with the former,[ ] i have no very intimate acquaintance; but of the latter i could talk in commendation till dinner time. be sure, my good lisardo, that you obtain _both_ editions of the _athenæ oxoniensis_.[ ] [footnote : sir thomas pope blount's "_censura celebriorum authorum_," londini, , folio, is unquestionably a learned work--the production of a rural and retired life--"umbraticam enim vitam et ab omni strepitu remotam semper in delitiis habui,"--says its author, in the preface. it treats chiefly of the most learned men, and sparingly of the english. his "_remarks upon poetry_," lond., , to. (in english) is more frequently read and referred to. it is a pity that he had not left out the whole of what relates to the greek and latin, and confined himself entirely to the english, poets. a life of sir thomas pope blount will be found in the new edition of the _biographia britannica_.] [footnote : the first, and, what hearne over and over again calls the genuine edition of the _athenæ oxoniensis_, was published in two folio volumes, , . that a _third_ volume was intended by the author himself may be seen from hearne's remarks in his _thom. caii. vind. antiq. oxon._, vol. i., p. xliii. for the character of the work consult his _rob. de avesb._, pp. xxvi, xxxiii. after the lapse of nearly half a century, it was judged expedient to give a new edition of these valuable biographical memoirs; and dr. tanner, afterwards bishop of st. asaph, was selected to be the editor of it. it was well known that wood had not only made large corrections to his own printed text, but had written nearly _ _ new lives--his ms. of both being preserved in the ashmolean museum. this new edition, therefore, had every claim to public notice. when it appeared, it was soon discovered to be a corrupt and garbled performance; and that the genuine text of wood, as well in his correctness of the old, as in his compositions of the new, lives, had been most capriciously copied. dr. tanner, to defend himself, declared that tonson "would never let him see one sheet as they printed it." this was sufficiently infamous for the bookseller; but the editor ought surely to have abandoned a publication thus faithlessly conducted, or to have entered his caveat in the preface, when it did appear, that he would not be answerable for the authenticity of the materials: neither of which were done. he wrote, however, an exculpatory letter to archbishop wake, which the reader may see at length in mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature_, vol. ii., p. . consult the life of the author in mr. gutch's valuable reprint of wood's "_history and antiquities of the university of oxford_," , to., vols.: also, freytag's _analect. literar._, vol. ii., . i have great pleasure in closing this note, by observing that mr. philip bliss, of st. john's college, oxford, is busily engaged in giving us, what we shall all be glad to hail, a new and faithful edition of wood's text of the _athenæ oxoniensis_, in five or six quarto volumes.] we have now reached the boundaries of the th century, and are just entering upon the one which is past: and yet i have omitted to mention the very admirable _polyhistor. literarius_ of morhof:[ ] a work by which i have been in a great measure guided in the opinions pronounced upon the bibliographers already introduced to you. this work, under a somewhat better form, and with a few necessary omissions and additions, one could wish to see translated into our own language. the name of maittaire strikes us with admiration and respect at the very opening of the th century. his elaborate _annales typographici_ have secured him the respect of posterity.[ ] le long, whose pursuits were chiefly biblical and historical, was his contemporary; an able, sedulous, and learned bibliographer. his whole soul was in his library; and he never spared the most painful toil in order to accomplish the various objects of his inquiry.[ ] and here, my dear friends, let me pay a proper tribute of respect to the memory of an eminently learned and laborious scholar and bibliographer: i mean john albert fabricius. his labours[ ] shed a lustre upon the scholastic annals of the th century; for he opened, as it were, the gates of literature to the inquiring student; inviting him to enter the field and contemplate the diversity and beauty of the several flowers which grew therein--telling him by whom they were planted, and explaining how their growth and luxuriancy were to be regulated. there are few instructors to whom we owe so much; none to whom we are more indebted. let his works, therefore, have a handsome binding, and a conspicuous place in your libraries: for happy is that man who has them at hand to facilitate his inquiries, or to solve his doubts. while fabricius was thus laudably exercising his great talents in the cause of ancient literature, the illustrious name of leibnitz[ ] appeared as author of a work of essential utility to the historian and bibliographer. i allude to his _scriptores rerum brunwicensium_, which has received a well pointed compliment from the polished pen of gibbon. after the successful labours of fabricius and leibnitz, we may notice those of struvius! whose _historical library_[ ] should be in every philological collection. [footnote : daniel george morhof, professor of poetry, eloquence, and history, was librarian of the university of khiel. he published various works, but the above--the best edition of which is of the date of --is by far the most learned and useful--"liber non sua laude privandus; cum primus fere fuerit morhofius qui hanc amoeniorum literarum partem in meliorum redigerit." _vogt._, pref. ix., edit. . its leading error is the want of method. his "_princeps medicus_," , to., is a very singular dissertation upon the cure of the evil by the royal touch; in the efficacy of which the author appears to have believed. his "_epistola de scypho vitreo per sonum humanæ vocis rupto_," kiloni, , to.--which was occasioned by a wine merchant of amsterdam breaking a wine-glass by the strength of his voice--is said to be full of curious matter. morhof died a.d. , in his rd year: beloved by all who knew the excellent and amiable qualities of his head and heart. he was so laborious that he wrote during his meals. his motto, chosen by himself,--pietate, candore, prudentia, should never be lost sight of by bibliomaniacs! his library was large and select. these particulars are gleaned from the _dict. historique_, caen, , vol. vi., p. .] [footnote : a compendious account of maittaire will be found in the third edition of my _introduction to the knowledge of rare and valuable editions of the greek and latin classics_, vol. i., p. . see too mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature, &c._, vol iii., p. ix. the various volumes of his _annales typographici_ are well described in the _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v. p. . to these may be added, in the bibliographical department, his _historia stephanorum, vitas ipsorum ac libros complectens_, , vo.--and the _historia typographorum aliquot parisiensium vitas et libros complectens_, , vo.--of these two latter works, (which, from a contemporaneous catalogue, i find were originally published at _s._ the common paper,) mr. t. grenville has beautiful copies upon large paper. the books are rare in any shape. the principal merit of maittaire's _annales typographici_ consists in a great deal of curious matter detailed in the notes; but the absence of the "lucidus ordo" renders the perusal of these fatiguing and unsatisfactory. the author brought a full and well-informed mind to the task he undertook--but he wanted taste and precision in the arrangement of his materials. the eye wanders over a vast indigested mass; and information, when it is to be acquired with excessive toil, is, comparatively, seldom acquired. panzer has adopted an infinitely better plan, on the model of orlandi; and if his materials had been _printed_ with the same beauty with which they appear to have been composed, and his annals had descended to as late a period as those of maittaire, his work must have made us eventually forget that of his predecessor. the bibliographer is, no doubt, aware that of maittaire's first volume there are two editions: why the author did not reprint, in the second edition ( ), the fac-simile of the epigram and epistle of lascar prefixed to the edition of the anthology, , and the disquisition concerning the ancient editions of quintilian (both of which were in the first edition of ), is absolutely inexplicable. maittaire was sharply attacked for this absurdity, in the "catalogus auctorum," of the "_annus tertius sæcularis inv. art. typog._," harlem, , vo., p. . "rara certe librum augendi methodus! (exclaims the author) satis patet auctorem hoc eo fecisse concilio, ut et primæ et secundæ libri sui editioni pretium suum constaret, et una æque ac altera lectoribus necessaria esset." copies of the typographical antiquities by maittaire, upon large paper, are now exceedingly scarce. the work, in this shape, has a noble appearance. while maittaire was publishing his typographical annals, orlandi put forth a similar work under the title of "_origine e progressi della stampa o sia dell' arte impressoria, e notizie dell' opere stampate dall' anno , sino all' anno _." bologna, , to. of this work, which is rather a compendious account of the several books published in the period above specified, there are copies upon strong writing paper--which the curious prefer. although i have a long time considered it as superseded by the labours of maittaire and panzer, yet i will not withhold from the reader the following critique: "cet ouvrage doit presque nécessairement être annexé à celui de maittaire à cause de plusieurs notices et recherches, qui le rendent fort curieux et intéressant." _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., - . as we are upon publications treating of typography, we may notice the "_annalium typographicorum selecta quædam capita_," hamb., , to., of lackman; and hirschius's supplement to the typographical labours of his predecessors--in the "_librorum ab anno i. usque ad annum l. sec. xvi. typis exscriptorum ex libraria quadam supellectile, norimbergæ collecta et observata, millenarius i._" &c. noriberg, , to. about this period was published a very curious, and now uncommon, octavo volume, of about pages, by seiz; called "_annus tertius sæcularis inventæ artis typographicæ_," harlem, --with several very interesting cuts relating to coster, the supposed inventor of the art of printing. it is a little strange that lysander, in the above account of eminent typographical writers, should omit to mention chevillier--whose _l'origine de l'imprimerie de paris, &c._, , to., is a work of great merit, and is generally found upon every bibliographer's shelf. baillet had supplied him with a pretty strong outline, in his short account of parisian printers. all the copies of chevillier's book, which i have seen, are printed upon what is called foxey paper. i believe there are none upon large paper. we may just notice la caille's _histoire de l'imprimerie et de la librarie_, , to., as a work full of errors. in order that nothing may be wanting to complete the typographical collection of the curious, let the "portraits of booksellers and printers, from ancient times to our own," published at nuremberg, in , folio--and "the devices and emblems" of the same, published at the same place, in , folio, be procured, if possible. the latin titles of these two latter works, both by scholtzius, will be found in the _bibl. crevenn._ vol. v. . renouard mentions the last in his "_annales de l'imprimerie des alde_," vol. ii. p. . meanwhile the _monumenta typographica_ of wolfius, hamb., , vols., vo., embraces a number of curious and scattered dissertations upon this interesting and valuable art. it may be obtained for _s._ or _s._ at present! the _amoenitatus [transcriber's note: amoenitates] literariæ, &c._, of schelhorn had like to have been passed over. it was published in small octavo volumes, at frankfort and leipsic, from the year to inclusive. the _amoenitates historiæ ecclesiasticæ et literariæ_, of the same person, and published at the same place in two octavo volumes, , should accompany the foregoing work. both are scarce and sought after in this country. in the former there are some curious dissertations, with cuts, upon early printed books. concerning the most ancient edition of the latin bibles, schelhorn put forth an express treatise, which was published at ulm in , to. this latter work is very desirable to the curious in biblical researches, as one meets with constant mention of schelhorn's bible. let me not omit zapf's _annales typographiæ augustanæ_, aug. vindel., ; which was republished, with copious additions, at augsbourg, in two parts, , to.--but unluckily, this latter is printed in the german language. upon spanish typography (a very interesting subject), there is a dissertation by raymond diosdado caballero, entitled "_de prima typographiæ hispanicæ Ætate specimen_," rome, , to.] [footnote : from the latin life of le long, prefixed to his _bibliotheca sacra_, we learn that he was an adept in most languages, ancient and modern; and that "in that part of literature connected with bibliography (typographorum et librorum historia), he retained every thing so correctly in his memory that he yielded to few literary men, certainly to no bookseller." of the early years of such a man it is a pity that we have not a better account. his _bibliotheca sacra_, paris, , folio, has been republished by masch and boerner, in four volumes, to., , and enriched with copious and valuable additions. this latter work is quite unrivalled: no young or old theologian, who takes any interest in the various editions of the holy scriptures, in almost all languages, can possibly dispense with such a fund of sacred literature. the _bibliothéque historique de la france_, , folio, by the same learned and industrious bibliographer, has met with a fate equally fortunate. fontette republished it in , in five folio volumes, and has immortalized himself and his predecessor by one of the most useful and splendid productions that ever issued from the press. de bure used to sell copies of it upon large paper, in sheets, for livres: according to the advertisement subjoined to his catalogue of count macarty's books in , vo. the presses of england, which groan too much beneath the weight of ephemeral travels and trumpery novels, are doomed, i fear, long to continue strangers to such works of national utility.] [footnote : the chief labours of fabricius ("vir [greek: ellênichôtatos]"--as reimannus truly calls him), connected with the present object of our pursuit, have the following titles: . "_bibliotheca græca, sive notitia scriptorum græcorum, &c._," hamb. - - - , &c., to., vols.--of which a new edition is now published by harles, with great additions, and a fresh arrangement of the original matter: twelve volumes have already been delivered to the public. . _bibliotheca latina_; first published in one volume, --then in three volumes, , and afterwards in two volumes, , to.;--but the last and best edition is that of , in three vols. vo., published by ernesti at leipsic--and yet not free from numerous errors. . _bibliographia antiquaria_, , to.: a new edition of schaffshausen, in , to., has superseded the old one. a work of this kind in our own language would be very useful, and even entertaining. fabricius has executed it in a masterly manner. . _bibliotheca ecclesiastica, in quâ continentur variorum authorum tractatus de scriptoribus ecclesiasticis_, hamb., , folio. an excellent work; in which the curious after theological tracts and their authors will always find valuable information. it is generally sharply contended for at book-auctions. . _bibliotheca latina mediæ et infimæ Ætatis, &c._, leipsic, , vols. vo.--again, with schoettgenius's supplement, in , to., vols. in . this latter is in every respect the best edition of a work which is absolutely indispensable to the philologist. a very excellent synopsis or critical account of fabricius's works was published at ams., , in to., which the student should procure. let me here recommend the _historia bibliothecæ fabricianæ_, compiled by john fabricius, - , vols. to., as a necessary and interesting supplement to the preceding works of john albert fabricius. i have often gleaned some curious bibliographical intelligence from its copious pages. the reader may consult _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., - .] [footnote : he is noticed here only as the author of "_idea bibliothecæ publicæ secundum classes scientiarum ordinandæ, fusior et contractior_," and of the "_scriptores rerum brunswicarum_," hanov., , fol., vols. "the antiquarian, who blushes at his alliance with thomas hearne, will feel his profession ennobled by the name of leibnitz. that extraordinary genius embraced and improved the whole circle of human science; and, after wrestling with newton and clark in the sublime regions of geometry and metaphysics, he could descend upon earth to examine the uncouth characters and barbarous latin of a chronicle or charter." gibbon: _post. works_, vol. ii., . consult also _mem. de l'inst._, vol. v., .] [footnote : i will not pretend to enumerate all the learned works of burchard gotthlieb struvius. his "_bibliotheca librorum rariorum_" was published in , to. the first edition of the _bibliotheca historica_ appeared as early as : a very valuable one was published by buder, in , vols.: but the last, and by far the most copious and valuable, is that which exhibits the joint editorial labours of buder and meusel, in eleven octavo volumes, , --though i believe it does not contain every thing which may be found in the edition of the _bibl. hist. selecta_, by jugler, , three vols. vo.: vide pp. iv. and vii. of the preface of meusel's edition. the _bibl. hist. select._, by jugler, was formerly published under the title of _introd. in notitiam rei literariæ et usum bibliothecæ_. jugler's edition of it contains a stiff portrait of himself in a finely embroidered satin waistcoat. the first volume, relating to foreign libraries, is very interesting: but, unluckily, the work is rare. of struvius's _bibl. saxonica_, , vo., i never saw a copy.] phil. you are advancing towards the middle of the th century, in enumerating foreign publications, without calling to mind that we have, at home, many laudable publications relating to typography and bibliography, which merit at least some notice, if not commendation. lysand. i thank you for the reproof. it is true, i was running precipitately to introduce a crowd of foreigners to your notice, without paying my respects, by the way, to the _historical libraries_ of bishop nicolson, the _bibliotheca literaria_ of wasse, and the _librarian_ of william oldys. nor should i omit to mention the still more creditable performance of bishop tanner: while the typographical publications of watson, palmer, and middleton,[ ] may as well be admitted into your libraries, if you are partial to such works; although upon this latter subject, the elegant quarto volume of ames merits particular commendation. [footnote : let us go gently over this _british_ ground, which lysander depictures in rather a flowery manner. the first edition of bishop nicolson's _english historical library_ was published in the years , , and --comprehending the entire three parts. in , came forth the _scottish_ historical library; and in , the _irish_ historical library. these three libraries, with the author's letter to bishop kennet in defence of the same, are usually published in one volume; and the last and best editions of the same are those of , fol., and , to. mr. john nichols has recently published an entertaining posthumous work of the bishop's _epistolary correspondence_, in two octavo volumes, . some of these letters throw light and interest upon the literature of the times. as to the authority of bishop nicolson, in his historical matters, i fear the sharp things which are said of his libraries by tyrrell (pref. to _hist. engl._, vol. ii., p. .), and wood (_athen. brit._, vol. ii., col. , ed. ), all which authorities are referred to by mr. nichols, are sufficiently founded upon truth. he was a violent and wrong-headed writer in many respects; but he had acumen, strength, and fancy. the _bibliotheca literaria_ of wasse (although his name does not appear as the professed editor) is a truly solid and valuable publication; worthy of the reputation of the learned editor of sallust. the work was published in numbers, which were sold at one shilling each; but, i suppose from the paucity of classical readers, it could not be supported beyond the th number ( ); when it ceased to be published. some of the dissertations are very interesting as well as erudite. oldys's _british librarian_ was published in six numbers, during the first six months of the year ; forming, with the index, an octavo volume of pages. it is difficult to say, from the conclusion (p. - ), whether the work was dropped for want of encouragement, or from the capriciousness or indolence of the author: but i suspect that the ground was suffered "to lie fallow" (to use his own words) till it was suffocated with weeds--owing to the _former_ cause: as oldys never suffered his pen to lie idle while he could "put money in his purse" from his lucubrations. we shall speak of him more particularly in part v. meanwhile, the reader is informed that the _british librarian_ is a work of no common occurrence, or mean value. it is rigidly correct, if not very learned, in bibliographical information. i once sent three guineas to procure a copy of it, according to its description, upon large paper; but, on its arrival, i found it to be not quite so large as my own tolerably amply-margined copy. bishop tanner's _bibliotheca britanico-hibernica_, which cost the author forty years' labour, was published in , folio; with a preface by dr. wilkins. we must receive it with many thanks, imperfect and erroneous as many parts of it are; but i hope the period is not very remote when a literary friend, living, as he constantly is, in an inexhaustible stock of british literature of all kinds, will give us a new edition, with copious additions and corrections, translated into our native tongue. _the history of the art of printing_ by watson, edit., , vo., is at best but a meagre performance. it happens to be rare, and, therefore, bibliomaniacs hunt after it. my copy of it, upon large paper, cost me _l._ _s._ it was formerly paton's, of edinburgh, a knowing antiquary in scottish printing. the _history of printing_, by palmer, , to., and dr. middleton's _dissertations upon the same_, , to., have been particularly treated by me, as well as the similar works of ames and herbert, in the first volume of my new edition of herbert's _british typographical antiquities_; and the public is too well acquainted with the merits and demerits of each to require their being pointed out in the present place. i will close this note by observing that the _censuria literaria_, in ten volumes octavo; and the _british bibliographer_ (now publishing) which grew out of it; mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_, six volumes, vo.; and mr. savage's continuation of _the british librarian_; are works which render the list of english publications, relating to typography and curious books, almost complete. i believe i may safely affirm that the period is not very distant when some of these latter publications, from the comparatively few copies which were struck off, will become very rare.] lis. i am glad to hear such handsome things said of the performances of our own countrymen. i was fearful, from your frequent sly allusions, that we had nothing worth mentioning. but proceed with your germans, italians, and frenchmen. lysand. you draw too severe a conclusion. i have made no sly allusions. my invariable love of truth impels me to state facts as they arise. that we have philosophers, poets, scholars, divines, lovers and collectors of books, equal to those of any nation upon earth is most readily admitted. but bibliography has never been, till now, a popular (shall i say fashionable?) pursuit amongst the english. lis. well, if what you call bibliography has produced such eminent men, and so many useful works, as those which have been just enumerated, i shall begin to have some little respect for this department of literature; and, indeed, i already feel impatient to go through the list of your bibliographical heroes.--who is the next champion deserving of notice? lysand. this confession gives me sincere pleasure. only indulge me in my rambling manner of disquisition, and i will strive to satisfy you in every reasonable particular. if ever you should be disposed to form a bibliographical collection, do not omit securing, when it comes across you, the best edition of du fresnoy's[ ] _methode pour étudier l'histoire_: it is rare, and sought after in this country. and now--softly approach, and gently strew the flowers upon, the tomb of worthy niceron:[ ] low lies the head, and quiescent has become the pen, of this most excellent and learned man!--whose productions have furnished biographers with some of their choicest materials, and whose devotion to literature and history has been a general theme of admiration and praise. the mention of this illustrious name, in such a manner, has excited in my mind a particular train of ideas. let me, therefore, in imagination, conduct you both to yonder dark avenue of trees--and, descending a small flight of steps, near the bottom of which gushes out a salient stream--let us enter a spacious grotto, where every thing is cool and silent; and where small alabaster busts, of the greater number of those bibliographers i am about to mention, decorate the niches on each side of it. how tranquil and how congenial is such a resting place!--but let us pursue our inquires. yonder sharp and well turned countenances, at the entrance of the grotto, are fixed there as representations of cardinal quirini[ ] and goujet; the _bibliothéque françoise_ of the latter of whom--with which i could wish book collectors, in general, to have a more intimate acquaintance--has obtained universal reputation.[ ] next to him, you may mark the amiable and expressive features of david clement:[ ] who, in his _bibliothéque curieuse_, has shown us how he could rove, like a bee, from flower to flower; sip what was sweet; and bring home his gleanings to a well-furnished hive. the principal fault of this bee (if i must keep up the simile) is that he was not sufficiently choice in the flowers which he visited; and, of course, did not always extract the purest honey. nearly allied to clement in sprightliness, and an equally gossipping bibliographer, was prosper marchand;[ ] whose works present us with some things no where else to be found, and who had examined many curious and rare volumes; as well as made himself thoroughly acquainted with the state of bibliography previous to his own times. [footnote : the last edition of this work is the one which was printed in fifteen volumes, crown vo., at paris, : with a copious index--and proportionable improvements in corrections and additions. it is now rare. i threw out the old edition of , four vols., to., upon large paper; and paid three guineas to boot for the new one, neatly bound.] [footnote : it is quite delightful to read the account, in the _dict. hist._, published at caen, , (vol. vi., p. ) of jean pierre niceron; whose whole life seems to have been devoted to bibliography and literary history. frank, amiable, industrious, communicative, shrewd, and learned--niceron was the delight of his friends, and the admiration of the public. his "_memoires pour servir à l'histoire des hommes illustres, &c., avec un catalogue raisonné de leur ouvrages_," was published from the years to , in forty crown vo. volumes. a supplement of three volumes, the latter of which is divided into _two parts_, renders this very useful, and absolutely necessary, work complete in volumes. the bibliomaniac can never enjoy perfect rest till he is in possession of it!] [footnote : quirini published his "_specimen variæ literaturæ quæ in urbe brixiæ ejusque ditione paulo post typographiæ incunabula florebat_," _&c._, at brescia, in ; two vols., vo.: then followed "_catalogo delle opere del cardinale quirini uscite alla luce quasi tuttee da' torchi di mi gian maria rizzardi stampatore in brescia_," vo. in , valois addressed to him his "_discours sur les bibliothéques publiques_," in vo.: his eminence's reply to the same was also published in vo. but the cardinal's chief reputation, as a bibliographer, arises from the work entitled "_de optimorum scriptorum editionibus_." lindaugiæ, , to. this is schelhorn's edition of it, which is chiefly coveted, and which is now a rare book in this country. it is a little surprising that lysander, in his love of grand national biographical works, mingled with bibliographical notices, should have omitted to mention the _bibliotheca lusitana_ of joaov and barbosa, published at lisbon, , in four magnificent folio volumes. a lover of portuguese literature will always consider this as "opus splendidissimum et utilissimum."] [footnote : _la bibliothéque françoise, ou histoire de la littérature françoise_, of claude pierre goujet, in eighteen volumes, crown vo., , like the similar work of niceron, is perhaps a little too indiscriminate in the choice of its objects: good, bad, and indifferent authors being enlisted into the service. but it is the chéf-d'oeuvre of goujet, who was a man of wonderful parts; and no bibliographer can be satisfied without it. goujet was perhaps among the most learned, if not the "facile princeps," of those who cultivated ancient french literature. he liberally assisted niceron in his memoires, and furnished moreri with corrections for his dictionary.] [footnote : the "_bibliothèque curieuse, historique et critique, ou catalogue raisonné de livres difficiles à trouver_," of david clement, published at gottingen, hanover, and leipsic, in quarto volumes, from the year to --is, unfortunately, an unfinished production; extending only to the letter h. the reader may find a critique upon it in my _introduction to the greek and latin classics_, vol. i., p. ; which agrees, for the greater part, with the observations in the _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., . the work is a _sine quâ non_ with collectors; but in this country it begins to be--to use the figurative language of some of the german bibliographers--"scarcer than a white crow,"--or "a black swan." the reader may admit which simile he pleases--or reject both! but, in sober sadness, it is very rare, and unconscionably dear. i know not whether it was the same clement who published "_les cinq années littéraires, ou lettres de m. clément, sur les ouvrages de littérature, qui ont parus dans les années --á _;" berlin, , mo., two volumes. where is the proof of the assertion, so often repeated, that clement borrowed his notion of the above work from wendler's _dissertatio de variis raritatis librorum impressorum causis_, jen., , to.?--wendler's book is rare among us: as is also berger's _diatribe de libris rarioribus, &c._, berol. , vo.] [footnote : the principal biographical labours of this clever man have the following titles: "_histoire de l'imprimerie_," la haye, , to.--an elegant and interesting volume, which is frequently consulted by typographical antiquaries. of mercier's supplement to it, see note in the ensuing pages under the word "mercier." his "_dictionnaire historique, ou memoires critiques et littéraires_," in two folio volumes, , was a posthumous production; and a very extraordinary and amusing bibliographical common-place book it is! my friend mr. douce, than whom few are better able to appreciate such a work, will hardly allow any one to have a warmer attachment to it, or a more thorough acquaintance with its contents, than himself--and yet there is no bibliographical work to which i more cheerfully or frequently turn! in the editor's advertisement we have an interesting account of marchand: who left behind, for publication, a number of scraps of paper, sometimes no bigger than one's nail; upon which he had written his remarks in so small a hand-writing that the editor and printer were obliged to make use of a strong magnifying glass to decypher it--"et c'est ici (continues the former) sans doute le premier livre qui n'ait pu être imprimé sans le secours continuel du microscope." marchand died in , and left his mss. and books, in the true spirit of a bibliomaniac, to the university of leyden. i see, from the conclusion of this latter authority, that a new edition of marchand's history of printing was in meditation to be published, after the publication of the dictionary. whether mercier availed himself of marchand's corrected copy, when he put forth his supplement to the latter's typographical history, i have no means of ascertaining. certainly there never was a second edition of the _histoire de l'imprimerie_, by marchsnd [transcriber's note: marchand].] perhaps i ought to have noticed the unoccupied niche under which the name of vogt[ ] is inscribed; the title of whose work has been erroneously considered more seductive than the contents of it. as we go on, we approach fournier; a man of lively parts, and considerable taste. his works are small in size, but they are written and printed with singular elegance.[ ] see what a respectable and almost dignified air the highly finished bust of the pensionary meerman[ ] assumes! few men attained to greater celebrity in his day; and few men better deserved the handsome things which were said of him. polite, hospitable, of an inquisitive and active turn of mind--passionately addicted to rare and curious books--his library was a sort of bibliographical emporium, where the idle and the diligent alike met with a gracious reception. peace to the manes of such a man! turn we now round to view the features of that truly eminent and amiable bibliographer, de bure! [footnote : the earliest edition of vogt's _catalogus librorum rariorum_ was published in ; afterwards in ; again in ; again in , much enlarged and improved; and, for the last time, greatly enlarged and corrected, forming by far the "editio optima," of the work--at frankfort and leipsic, , vo.--we are told, in the new preface to this last edition, that the second and third impressions were quickly dispersed and anxiously sought after. vogt is a greater favourite with me than with the generality of bibliographers. his plan, and the execution of it, are at once clear and concise; but he is too prodigal of the term "rare." whilst these editions of vogt's amusing work were coming forth, the following productions were, from time to time, making their appearance, and endeavouring perhaps to supplant its reputation. first of all beyer put forth his _memoriæ historico-criticæ librorum rariorum_. dresd. and lips., , vo.; as well has [transcriber's note: as] his _arcana sacra bibliothecarum dresdensium_, , vo.--with a continuation to the latter, preceded by an epistle concerning the electoral library, separately published in the same year. then engel (in republicâ helveto-bernensi bibliothecarius primus) published his _bibliotheca selectissima, sive catalogus librorum in omni genere scientiarum rarissimorum_, &c., bernæ, , vo.; in which work some axioms are laid down concerning the rarity of books not perhaps sufficiently correct; but in which a great deal of curious matter, very neatly executed, will repay the reader for any expense he may incur in the purchase of it. afterwards freytag's _analecta literaria de libris rarioribus_, lips., , two vols. vo.;--and his _adparatus literarius ubi libri partim antiqui partim rari recensentur_, lipsiæ, , three volumes vo., highly gratified the curious in bibliography. in the former work the books are described alphabetically, which perhaps is the better plan: in the latter, they are differently arranged, with an alphabetical index. the latter is perhaps the more valuable of the two, although the former has long been a great favourite with many; yet, from freytag's own confession, he was not then so knowing in books, and had not inspected the whole of what he described. they are both requisite to the collector; and their author, who was an enthusiast in bibliography, ranks high in the literature of his country. in the last place we may notice the _florilegium historico-criticum librorum rariorum, cui multa simul scitu jucunda intersperguntur_, &c., of daniel gerdes; first published at groningen, in ; but afterwards in , vo., at the same place, the third and best edition. it was meant, in part, to supply the omission of some rare books in vogt: and under this title it was published in the _miscellaneæ groninganæ_, vol. ii., and vol. iii. this work of gerdes should have a convenient place in every bibliographical cabinet. i will close this attempt to supply lysander's omission of some very respectable names connected with bibliography by exhorting the reader to seize hold of a work (whenever it comes across him, which will be rarely) entitled _bibliotheca librorum rariorum universalis_, by john jacob bauer, a bookseller at nuremberg, and printed there in , vo., two vols.; with three additional volumes by way of supplement, - , which latter are usually bound in one. it is an alphabetical dictionary, like vogt's and fournier's, of what are called rare books. the descriptions are compendious, and the references respectable, and sometimes numerous. my copy of this scarce, dear, and wretchedly-printed, work, which is as large and clean as possible, and bound in pale russia, with marbled edges to the leaves--cost me _l._ _s._] [footnote : we are indebted to pierre simon fournier le jeune, for some very beautiful interesting little volumes connected with engraving and printing. . _dissertation sur l'origine et les progrés de l'art de graver en bois, &c._, paris, , vo. . _de l'origine et des productions de l'imprimerie primitive en taille de bois_, paris, , vo. . _traité sur l'origine et les progrés de l'imprimerie_, paris, . . _observations sur un ouvrage intitulé vindiciæ typographicæ_, paris, . these treatises are sometimes bound in one volume. they are all elegantly printed, and rare. we may also mention-- . _epreuves de deux petits caractères nouvellement gravès, &c._, paris, ; and especially his chef-d'oeuvre. . _manuel typographique_, paris, - , vo., two vols.: of which some copies want a few of the cuts: those upon large paper (there is one of this kind in the cracherode collections) are of the first rarity. fournier's typographical manual should be in every printing office: his types "are the models (says his namesake,) of those of the best printed books at paris at this day." _dict. port. de bibliogr._, p. , edit. .] [footnote : the _origines typographicæ_ of meerman, which was published at the hague in two handsome quarto volumes, , (after the plan or prospectus had been published in , vo.), secured its author a very general and rather splendid reputation, till the hypothesis advanced therein, concerning laurence coster, was refuted by heinecken. the reader is referred to a note in the first volume of my new edition of the _typographical antiquities of great britain_, p. xxxi. it is somewhat singular that, notwithstanding meerman's hypothesis is now exploded by the most knowing bibliographers, his dissertation concerning the claims of haerlem should have been reprinted in french, with useful notes, and an increased catalogue of all the books published in the low countries, during the th century. this latter work is entitled "_de l'invention de l'imprimerie, ou analyse des deux ouvrages publiés sur cette matière par m. meerman, &c.; suivi d'une notice chronologique et raisonnée des livres avec et sans date_," paris, , vo. the author is mons. jansen. prefixed there is an interesting account, of meerman. lysander might have noticed, with the encomium which it justly merits the _vindiciæ typographicæ_ of schoepflin, printed at strasburg, in , to.; where the claimes of gutenburg (a native of the same city) to the invention of the typographic art are very forcibly and successfully maintained.] lis. you absolutely transport me! i see all these interesting busts--i feel the delicious coolness of the grotto--i hear the stream running over a bed of pebbles--the zephyrs play upon my cheeks--o dolt that i was to abuse---- phil. hear him, hear him![ ] [footnote : vide note at p. , ante.] lysand. from my heart i pity and forgive you. but only look upon the bust of de bure; and every time that you open his _bibliographie instructive_,[ ] confess, with a joyful heart, the obligations you are under to the author of it. learn, at the same time, to despise the petty cavils of the whole zoilean race; and blush for the abbé rive,[ ] that he could lend his name, and give the weight of his example, to the propagation of coarse and acrimonious censures. [footnote : the works of guillaume-franÇois de bure deserve a particular notice. he first published his _musæum typographicum_, paris, , mo.; of which he printed but twelve copies, and gave away every one of them (including even his own) to his book-loving friends. it was published under the name of g.f. rebude. peignot is very particular in his information concerning this rare morçeau of bibliography--see his _bibliographie curieuse_, p. . afterwards appeared the _bibliographie instructive_, in seven volumes, vo., - --succeeded by a small volume of a catalogue of the anonymous publications, and an essay upon bibliography: this th volume is absolutely necessary to render the work complete, although it is frequently missing. fifty copies of this work were printed upon large paper, of a quarto size. its merits are acknowledged by every candid and experienced critic. in the third place, came forth his _catalogue des livres, &c., de l.j. gaignat, paris_, , vo., two vols.: not, however, before he had published two brochures--"_appel aux savans_," _&c._, , vo.--and "_reponse à une critique de la bibliographie instructive_," , vo.--as replies to the tart attacks of the abbé rive. the catalogue of gaignat, and the fairness of his answers to his adversary's censures, served to place de bure on the pinnacle of bibliographical reputation; while rive was suffered to fret and fume in unregarded seclusion. he died in the year , aged : and was succeeded in his bibliographical labours by his cousin william; who, with mons. van-praet, prepared the catalogue of the duke de la valliere's library, in , and published other valuable catalogues as late as the year . but both are eclipsed, in regard to the _number_ of such publications, by their predecessor gabriel martin; who died in the year , aged --after having compiled catalogues since the year . this latter was assisted in his labours by his son claude martin, who died in . see peignot's _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. i., , : vol iii., .] [footnote : the mention of de bure and the abbé rive induces me to inform the reader that the _chasse aux bibliographes_, paris, , vo., of the latter, will be found a receptacle of almost every kind of gross abuse and awkward wit which could be poured forth against the respectable characters of the day. it has now become rare. the abbé's "_notices calligraphiques et typographiques_," a small tract of pages--of which only copies were printed--is sufficiently curious; it formed the first number of a series of intended volumes ( or ) "_des notices calligraphiques de manuscrits des differens siécles, et des notices typographiques de livres du quinziéme siécle_," but the design was never carried into execution beyond this first number. the other works of rive are miscellaneous; but chiefly upon subjects connected with the belles lettres. he generally struck off but few copies of his publications; see the _bibliographie curieuse_, pp. - ; and more particularly the _dictionnaire de bibliologie_, vol. iii., p. , by the same author, where a minute list of rive's productions is given, and of which fournier might have availed himself in his new edition of the _dict. portatif de bibliographie_. from peignot, the reader is presented with the following anecdotes of this redoubted champion of bibliography. when rive was a young man, and curate of mollèges in provence, the scandalous chronicle reported that he was too intimate with a young and pretty parisian, who was a married woman, and whose husband did not fail to reproach him accordingly. rive made no other reply than that of taking the suspicious benedick in his arms, and throwing him headlong out of the window. luckily he fell upon a dunghill! in the year , upon a clergyman's complaining to him of the inflexible determination of a great lord to hunt upon his grounds--"_mettez-lui une messe dans le ventre_"--repiled [transcriber's note: replied] rive. the clergyman expressing his ignorance of the nature of the advice given, the facetious abbé replied, "go and tear a leaf from your _mass book_, wrap a musket-ball in it, and discharge it at the tyrant." the duke de la valliere used to say--when the knowing ones at his house were wrangling about some literary or bibliographical point--"gentlemen, i'll go and let loose my bull dog,"--and sent into them the abbé, who speedily put them all to rights. rive died in the year , aged seventy-one. he had great parts and great application; but in misapplying both he was his own tormentor. his library was sold in .] next to the bust of de bure, consider those of the five italian bibliographers and literati, haym, fontanini, zeno, mazzuchelli, and tiraboschi; which are placed in the five consecutive niches. their works are of various merit, but are all superior to that of their predecessor doni. although those of the first three authors should find a place in every bibliographical collection, the productions of mazzuchelli,[ ] and especially of the immortal tiraboschi, cannot fail to be admitted into every judicious library, whether vast or confined. italy boasts of few literary characters of a higher class, or of a more widely-diffused reputation than tiraboschi.[ ] his diligence, his sagacity, his candour, his constant and patriotic exertions to do justice to the reputation of his countrymen, and to rescue departed worth from ill-merited oblivion, assign to him an exalted situation: a situation with the poggios and politians of former times, in the everlasting temple of fame! bind his _storia della letteratura italiana_ in the choicest vellum, or in the stoutest russia; for it merits no mean covering! [footnote : we may first observe that "_la libraria del_ doni _fiorentino_;" vinegia, , vo., is yet coveted by collectors as the most complete and esteemed of all the editions of this work. it is ornamented with many portraits of authors, and is now rare. consult _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., p. . numerous are the editions of haym's _biblioteca italiana_; but those of milan, of the date of , to., vols., and , vo. vols., are generally purchased by the skilful in italian bibliography. the best edition of fontanini's _biblioteca dell' eloquenza italiana_ is with the annotations of zeno, which latter are distinguished for their judgment and accuracy. it was published at venice in , to., vols.; but it must be remembered that this edition contains only the _third_ book of fontanini, which is a library of the principal italian authors. all the three books (the first two being a disquisition upon the orgin [transcriber's note: origin] and progress of the italian language) will be found in the preceeding [transcriber's note: preceding] venice edition of , in one volume to. in the year - , came forth the incomparable but unfinished work of count mazzuchelli, in two folio volumes, [the latter vol. being divided into four thick parts] entittled [transcriber's note: entitled]: _gli scrittori d'italia, cioé notizie storiche e critiche intorno alle vite e agli scritti dei letterati italiani_. the death of the learned author prevented the publication of it beyond the first two letters of the alphabet. the count, however, left behind ample materials for its execution according to the original plan, which lay shamefully neglected as late as the year . see _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., p. . this work is rare in our own country. if the lover of italian philology wishes to increase his critico-literary stores, let him purchase the _biblioteca degli autori antichi greci, e latini volgarizzati_, &c., of paitoni, in five quarto volumes, : the _notizie istorico-critiche &c., degli scrittori viniziani_, [transcriber's note: corrected printer error in original; 'degli' was misplaced on preceding line] of agostini, venez., , to., vols.: and the _letteratura turchesca of_ giambatista toderini, venez., , vo., vols.--works nearly perfect of their kind, and (especially the latter one) full of curious matter.] [footnote : the best edition of his _letteratura italiana_ is that of modena, - , to., in fifteen volumes, as it contains his last corrections and additions, and has the advantage of a complete index. an excellent account of the life and labours of its wonderful author appeared in the fifth volume of the _athenæum_, to the perusal of which i strongly recommend the reader.] the range of busts which occupies the opposite niches represents characters of a more recent date. let us begin with mercier;[ ] a man of extraordinary, and almost unequalled, knowledge in every thing connected with bibliography and typography; of a quick apprehension, tenacious memory, and correct judgment; who was more anxious to detect errors in his own publications than in those of his fellow labourers in the same pursuit; an enthusiast in typographical researches--the ulysses of bibliographers! next to him stand the interesting busts of saxius and laire;[ ] the latter of whom has frequently erred, but who merited not such a castigation as subsequent bibliographers have attempted to bestow upon him: in the number of which, one is sorry to rank the very respectable name of audiffredi[ ]--whose bust, you observe, immediately follows that of laire. audiffredi has left behind him a most enviable reputation: that of having examined libraries with a curious eye, and described the various books which he saw with scrupulous fidelity. there are no lively or interesting sallies, no highly-wrought, or tempting descriptions--throughout his two quarto volumes: but, in lieu of this, there is sober truth, and sound judgment. i have mentioned audiffredi a little out of order, merely because his name is closely connected with that of laire: but i should have first directed your attention to the sagacious countenance of heinecken;[ ] whose work upon ancient printing, and whose _dictionary of engravers_ (although with the latter we have nothing just now to do) will never fail to be justly appreciated by the collector. i regret, lisardo, for your own sake--as you are about to collect a few choice books upon typography--that you will have so much to pay for the former work, owing to its extreme rarity in this country, and to the injudicious phrenzy of a certain class of buyers, who are resolved to purchase it at almost any price. let me not forget to notice, with the encomiums which they deserve, the useful and carefully compiled works of seemiller, braun, wurdtwein, de murr, rossi, and panzer, whose busts are arranged in progressive order. all these authors[ ] are greatly eminent in the several departments which they occupy; especially panzer--whose _annales typographici_, in regard to arrangement and fulness of information, leaves the similar work of his precedessor, maittaire, far behind. it is unluckily printed upon wretched paper--but who rejects the pine-apple from the roughness of its coat? get ready the wherry; man it with a choice bibliomanical crew, good lisardo!--and smuggle over in it, if you can, the precious works of these latter bibliographers--for you may saunter "from rise to set of sun," from whitechapel to hyde-park corner--for them--in vain! [footnote : barthelemy, mercier de st. leger, died in the year , and in the sixty-sixth of his age, full of reputation, and deeply regretted by those who knew the delightful qualities of his head and heart. it is not my intention to enumerate _all_ his publications, the titles of which may be found in the _siécles littéraires_, vol. iv., p. : but, in the present place, i will only observe that his "_supplement à l'histoire de l'imprimerie, par p. marchand_," was first published in , and afterwards in , to., a rare and curious work; but little known in this country. his _bibliothéque des romans, traduit de grec_, was published in , vols. mo. his letter concerning de bure's work, , vo., betrayed some severe animadversions upon the _bibliogr. instruct._: but he got a similar flagellation in return, from the abbé rive, in his _chasse aux bibliographes_--who held him and de bure, and all the bibliographical tribe, in sovereign contempt. his letter to heinecken upon the rare editions of the th century, , vo., and his other works, i never saw in any collection. the imperial library at paris purchased his copy of du verdier's and la croix du maine's bibliothéques, covered with his marginal annotations, as well as his copy of clement's _bibl. curieuse_. le blond, member of the institute, obtained his copy of de bure's _bibliographie instructive_, also enriched with ms. notes. mr. ochéda, lord spencer's librarian, who knew well the abbé de st. leger, informed me that he left behind him ample materials for a history of printing, in a new edition of his supplement to marchand's work, which he projected publishing, and which had received from him innumerable additions and corrections. "he was a man," says mr. ochéda, "the most conversant with editions of books of all kinds, and with every thing connected with typography and bibliography, that i ever conversed with." the reader may consult peignot's _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. i., p. , vol. iii., p. .] [footnote : the _onomasticon literarium_ of christopher saxius, _traject. ad rhenum_, - , seven vols. vo., with a supplement, or eighth volume, published in , is considered as a work of the very first reputation in its way. the notices of eminent men are compendious, but accurate; and the arrangement is at once lucid and new. an elegantly bound copy of this scarce work cannot be obtained for less than six and seven guineas. the first bibliographical production of the abbé laire was, i believe, the _specimen historicum typographiæ romanæ, xv. seculi, romæ_, , large vo.; of which work, a copy printed upon vellum (perhaps unique) was sold at the sale of m. d'hangard, in , for livres. _dictionn. bibliogr._, vol. iv., p. . in my introduction, &c., to the greek and latin classics, some account of its intrinsic merit will be found: vol. i., p. xviii. in the year laire published a "_dissertation sur l'origine et progrès de l'imprimerie en franche-comté_," vo.; and, in the year , came forth his catalogue raisonné of the early printed books in the library of cardinal de lomenie de brienne; under the title of "_index librorum ab inventa typographia, ad annum _," in two octavo volumes. see the article "lomenie," in the list of foreign catalogues, post. laire was also the author of a few other minor bibliographical productions. all the books in his library, relating to this subject, were covered with marginal notes; some of them very curious. see peignot's _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. i., p. : and _les siecles littéraires_, ( , vo.) vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : the works and the merits of audiffredi have been before submitted by me to the public; and mr. beloe, in the third volume of his "_anecdotes of literature_," &c., has justly observed upon the latter. in lord spencer's magnificent library at althorpe, i saw a copy of the "_editiones italicæ_," sec. xv., , to., upon large paper. it is much to be wished that some knowing bibliographer upon the continent would complete this unfinished work of audiffredi. his _editiones romanæ_, sec. xv., , to., is one of the most perfect works of bibliography extant: yet laire's "_index librorum_," &c. (see preceeding note), is necessary to supply the omission of some early books printed at rome, which had escaped even this keen bibliographer!] [footnote : heinecken's name stands deservedly high (notwithstanding his tediousness and want of taste) among bibliographical and typographical antiquaries. of his "_nachrichten von kunstlern und kunst-sachen_," leipzig, , vo., two vols., (being "new memoirs upon artists and the objects of art"--and which is frequently referred to by foreigners,) i never saw a copy. it was again published in . his "_idée générale d'une collection complette d'estampes_," &c., leips., , vo., is a most curious and entertaining book; but unconscionably dear in this country. his "_dictionnaire des artistes dont nous avons des estampes_," &c., leips. , vo., four vols., is an unfinished performance, but remarkably minute as far as it goes. the remainder, written in the german language, continues in ms. in the electorate library at dresden, forming twelve volumes. of the character of heinecken's latter work, consult huber's _manuel, &c., des amateurs de l'art_, zurich, , vo.: and a recent work entitled "_notices des graveurs_," paris, , vo., two vols. heinecken died at the advanced age of eighty.] [footnote : we will discuss their works _seriatim_, as lisardo has said above. seemiller's _bibliothecæ incolstadiensis incunabula typographica_, contains four parts, or fasciculi: they are bound in one volume, quarto, , &c.; but, unfortunately for those who love curious and carefully executed works, it is rather rare in this country. the _notitia historico-critica de libris ab art typog. invent._, by placid braun, in two parts, or volumes, , to., with curious plates, has long been a desideratum in my own collection; and my friend mr. beloe, who is luckily in possession of a copy, enjoys his triumph over me when he discovers it not in my bibliographical boudoir. the same author also published his "_notitia historico-literaria de cod. mss. in bibl. monast. ord. s. bened. ad ss. vidal. et afram augustæ ex tantibus_," aug. vindel., , to., two vols. _cat. de santander_, vol. iv., p. . i know not how any well versed bibliographer can do without the "_bibliotheca moguntina libris sæculo primo tpyographico [transcriber's note: typographico] moguntiæ impressis instructa_;" , to., of wurdtwein. it has some curious plates of fac-similes, and is rarely seen in the strand or king-street book-markets.----c.t. de murr published a work of some interest, entitled, "_memorabilia bibliothecarum publicarum norimbergensium_," norimb., - , three parts or vols. vo.; which is also rare.----rossi's valuable work concerning the annals of hebrew typography: _annales hebræo-typographici, à , ad _, parmæ, , , to., two separate publications, is prettily printed by bodoni, and is an indispensable article in the collection of the typographical antiquary. see the _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. iii., p. .----panzer's _annales typographici_, in eleven quarto volumes ( - ) is a work of the very first importance to bibliographers. its arrangement, after the manner of orlandi's, is clear and most convenient; and the references to authorities, which are innumerable, are, upon the whole, very faithful. the indexes are copious and satisfactory. this work (of which i hear there are only three copies upon large paper) contains an account of books which were printed in all parts of europe from the year , to , inclusive; but it should be remembered that the author published a distinct work in the year , to., relating to books which were printed, within the same period, in the _german language_; and this should always accompany the eleven latin volumes. i will just add from it, as a curiosity, the title and colophon (translated into english) of the first printed book in the german language:--"the publication of diethers, elector of mayence, against count adolphus of nassau; _given out under our impressed seal on tuesday, after the fourth sunday in advent, anno domini _." consult also wurdtwein's _bibl. mogunt._, p. ; and the authorities there referred to. it seems doubtful whether this curious little brochure, of which scarcely any thing more than a fragment now remains, was printed by fust and schoeffer, or by gutenberg.] what countenances are those which beam with so much quiet, but interesting, expression? they are the resemblances of denis and camus:[ ] the former of whom is better known from his _annalium typographicorum maittaire supplementum_; and the latter very generally respected abroad, although our acquaintance with him in this country is exceedingly slight. if i mistake not, i observe the mild and modest countenance of my old acquaintance, herbert, in this bibliographical group of heads? do not despise his toil[ ] because it is not sprinkled with gay conceits, or learned digressions: he wrote to be useful, not to be entertaining; and so far as he went, his work was such an improvement upon his predecessor's plan as to place it quite at the head of national typography. see yonder the sensible countenance of harwood![ ] the first writer in this country who taught us to consider the respective merits and demerits of the various editions of greek and latin authors. [footnote : michael denis, the translator of ossian, and a bibliographer of justly established eminence, was principal librarian of the imperial library at vienna, and died in the year , at the age of . his _supplement to maittaire's typographical annals_, in two parts or volumes, , to., is a work of solid merit, and indispensable to the possessor of its precursor. the bibliographical references are very few; but the descriptions of the volumes are minutely accurate. the indexes also are excellent. in the year , denis published the first volume (in three thick parts in folio) of his _codices manuscripti theologici bibl. palat. vindob._; a production which the reader will find somewhat fully described in the ensuing pages. the second volume appeared after his death in . in - , came forth his second edition of an _introduction to the knowledge of books_, in two quarto volumes; unfortunately written in the german language--but mentioned with approbation in the first volume of the _mem. de l'inst._, p. . consult also peignot's _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. i., p. ; ii., .----armand gaston camus is a bibliographer of very first rate reputation. the reader has only to peruse the following titles of some of his works, and he will certainly bewail his ill fortune if they are not to be found in his library. . _observations sur la distribution et le classement des livres d'une bibliothéque_: . _additions aux mêmes_; . _memoire sur un livre allemand_ (which is the famous tewrdannckhs; and about which is to be hoped that mr. douce will one day favour us with his curious remarks): . _addition au même_: . _memoire sur l'histoire et les procédés du polytypage et de la stéréotypie_: . _rapport sur la continuation de la collection des historiens de france, et de celle des chartres et diplomes_: . _notice d'un livre imprimé à bamberg en _. all these works are thus strung together, because they occur in the first three volumes of the _memoires de l'institut_. this curious book, printed at bamberg, was discovered by a german clergyman of the name of stenier, and was first described by him in the _magasin hist.-litt., bibliogr._ chemintz, : but camus's memoir is replete with curious matter, and is illustrated with fac-simile cuts. in the "_notices et extraits des mss. de la bibl. nationale_," vol. vi., p. , will be found a most interesting memoir by him, relating to two ancient manuscript bibles, in two volumes folio, adorned with a profusion of pictures: of some of which very elegant fac-similes are given. these pictures are in number! each of them having a latin and french verse beautifully written and illuminated beneath.--camus supposes that such a work could not now be executed under , francs!--"where (exclaims he) shall we find such modern specimens of book-luxury?" in the year , he published an admirable "_mémoire sur la collection des grands et petits voyages, et sur la collection des voyages des melchesedech thevenot_," to., with an excellent "table des matières." of his own journey into the low countries, recently published, i never met with a copy. all the preceding works, with the exception of the last, are in my own humble collection.] [footnote : a short bibliographical memoir of herbert will be found in the first volume of my edition of the _typographical antiquities of great britain_. since that was published, i have gleaned a few further particulars relating to him, which may be acceptable to the reader. shortly after the appearance of his third volume, he thus speaks in a letter to mr. price, librarian of the bodleian library, "if at any time you meet with any book of which i have not taken notice, or made any mistake in the description of it, your kind information will be esteemed a favour; as i purpose to continue collecting materials for a future publication, when enough shall be collected to make another volume." this was in april, . in the ensuing month he thus addresses his old friend mr. white, of crickhowell, who, with himself, was desperately addicted to the black-letter. "to morrow my wife and self set out for norfolk to take a little relaxation for about a fortnight. i hope my labours will in some good measure answer the expectation of my friends and subscribers in general. sure i am my best endeavours have been exerted for that purpose. i have been years collecting materials; have spent many a fair pound, and many a weary hour; and it is now ten years since the first part was committed to the press. i purpose to continue collecting materials in order to a fourth volume, &c.;--yet by no means will i make myself debtor to the public when to publish: if it shall please god to take me to himself, isaac will in due time set it forth. however i shall keep an interleaved copy for the purpose." in a letter to a mr. john banger russell (in dorsetshire), written in the ensuing month of june, the same sentiments and the same intention are avowed. thus ardent was the bibliomaniacal spirit of herbert in his d year! the _interleaved copy_ here alluded to (which was bound in six volumes to., in russia binding, and for which mr. gough had given herbert's widow _l._ _s._) is now in my possession; as well as the yet more valuable acquisition of some numerous ms. addenda to his history of printing--both of these articles having been purchased by me at the sale of mr. gough's mss. and printed books, a.d. .] [footnote : dr. edward harwood published the fourth and last edition of his "_view of the various editions of the greek and roman classics_," in the year , vo. a work which, in the public estimation, has entitled its author's memory to very considerable respect in the classical world; although the late professor porson, in the fly leaf of a copy of my second edition of a similar publication, was pleased to call the doctor by a name rather unusually harsh with _him_, who was "criticus et lenis et acutus;" censuring also my dependance upon my predecessor. in the year , was published my third edition of "_an introduction to the knowledge of rare and valuable editions of the greek and latin classics_," two volumes vo.: in which, if i may presume to talk of anything so insignificant, i have endeavoured to exhibit the opinions--not of dr. harwood alone, but of the most eminent foreign critics and editors--upon the numerous editions which, in a chronological series, are brought before the reader's attention. the remarks of the first bibliographers in europe are also, for the first time in a english publication, subjoined; so that the lover of curious, as well as of valuable, editions may be equally gratified. the authorities, exceedingly numerous as well as respectable, are referred to in a manner the most unostentatious; and a full measure of text, and to be really useful, was my design from the beginning to the end of it. to write a long and dull homily about its imperfections would be gross affectation. an extensive sale has satisfied my publishers that its merit a little counterbalances its defects.] lis. you are, no doubt, a fond and partial critic in regard to the works of herbert and harwood: but i am glad to recognise my fellow countrymen in such an illustrious assemblage. go on. lysand. we are just at the close. but a few more busts, and those very recently executed, remain to be noticed. these are the resemblances of la serna santander, cailleau, and oberlin;[ ] while several vacant niches remain to be filled up with the busts of more modern bibliographers of eminence: namely, of van-praet, fischer, lambinet, renouard, peignot, fournier, barbier, boucher, and brunet.[ ] [footnote : de la serna santander will always hold a distinguished place amongst bibliographers, not only from the care and attention with which he put forth the catalogue of his own books--the parting from which must have gone near to break his heart--but from his elegant and useful work entitled, "_dictionnaire bibliographique choisi du quinzieme siécle_," , &c., vo., in three parts or volumes. his summary of researches, upon the invention of printing, mr. edwards told me, he read "with complete satisfaction"--this occupies the first part or volume. the remaining volumes form a necessary, as well as brilliant, supplement to de bure. just at this moment, i believe that mr. beloe's, and my own, copy of the work, are the only ones in this country.----cailleau has the credit of being author of the _dictionnaire bibliographique_, &c., in three volumes, octavo, --of which there are a sufficient number of counterfeited and faulty re-impressions; but which, after all, in its original shape, edit. , is not free from gross errors; however useful it is in many respects. i suspect, however, that the abbé duclos had the greater share in this publication: but, be this as it may, the fourth supplemental volume (by the younger brunet) is, in every respect, a more accurate and valuable performance. oberlin, librarian of the central school or college at strasbourg, is author of a bibliographical treatise particularly deserving of the antiquary's attention: namely, _essai d'annales de la vie de jean gutenburg [transcriber's note: gutenberg], &c._, stasb. [transcriber's note: strasb.], an. ix., vo. his other numerous (belles-lettres) works are minutely specified by peignot in his _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. iii., p. . his edition of horace, argent., , to., is both elegant and correct.] [footnote : let us go quietly through the modern french school of bibliography.----mons. joseph van-praet is principal librarian of the imperial collection at paris, and is justly called, by some of his fellow-labourers in the same career, "one of the first bibliographers in europe." he is known to me, as a bibliographical writer, only by the part which he took, and so ably executed, in the valliere catalogue of . peignot informs us that m. van-praet is now busy in composing a little work--which i am sure will rejoice the hearts of all true bibliomaniacs to be apprised of--called a _catalogue raisonné_ of books printed upon vellum; for which he has already prepared not fewer than articles! see the _curiosités bibliogr._, p. iij. among these vellum articles, gentle reader, i assure thee that thine eyes will be blest with the description of "the shyp of fooles," printed by pynson, ! the urbanity and politeness of this distinguished librarian are equal to his knowledge.----gotthelf fischer, a saxon by birth, and librarian of the public collection at mentz, has given us the following interesting treatises, of which, i believe, not five copies are to be found in this country: namely--_essai sur les monumens typographiques de jean gutenberg, &c._, an. x. [ ], to.: and _descriptions de raretés typographiques et de manuscrits remarquables, &c._, nuremb., , vo.--the latter is in the german language, and has cuts--with a portrait of fust. by this time, the work has most probably been translated into french, as it is frequently referred to and highly spoken of by foreigners. peignot [_dict. de bibliologie_, vol. iii., p. ] refers us to the fine eulogy pronounced upon fisher [transcriber's note: fischer] (not yet years of age) by camus, in his "voyage dans les departemens réunis," p. .----lambinet will always be remembered and respected, as long as printing and bibliography shall be studied, by his "_recherches historiques littéraires et critiques, sur l'originè de l'imprimerie; particulièrement sur les premiers établissemens au_ xvme _siécle dans la belgique_," &c., brux., an. vii. ( ), vo. it is, indeed, a very satisfactory performance: the result of judgment and taste--rare union!----in like manner, renouard has procured for himself a bibliographical immortality by his _annales de l'imprimerie des aide_, , vo., two vols.: a work almost perfect of its kind, and by many degrees superior to bandini's dry _annales typog. juntarum._, lucæ, . in renouard's taste, accuracy and interest are delightfully combined; and the work is printed with unrivalled beauty. there were only six copies of it printed upon large paper; one of which i saw in the fine collection of the rt. hon. t. grenville.----few modern bibliographers have displayed so much diligence as gabriel peignot: from whom we have, . _dictionnaire raisonné de bibliologie_, paris, , vo., two vols., with a third, by way of supplement ( ). with necessary corrections and additions, this work would answer many useful purposes in an english translation. . _essai de curiosités bibliographiques_, , vo. this is a very amusing (but scarce and unconscionably dear) book. it contains elaborate descriptions of many curious and sumptuous works, which were sold for and more livres at public sales. . _dictionnaire, &c., des principaux livres condamnés au feu, supprimés ou censurés_, paris, , vo., vols. the very title of such a work must sharpen the edge of curiosity with those bibliomaniacs who have never seen it. . _bibliographie curieuse, ou notice raisonnée des livres imprimés a cent exemplaires au plus, suivie d'une notice de quelques ouvrages tirés sur papier de couleur_, paris, , vo. only one hundred copies of this thin volume were struck off: of which i possess the th copy, according to peignot's notification. indeed i am fortunate in having all his preceding works. let us wish long life and never-failing success to so brave a book-chevalier as gabriel peignot.----franÇois ignace fournier, at years of age, published an elegantly printed little volume, entitled _essai portatif de bibliographie_, , vo., of which only copies were struck off. in the year , this essay assumed the form of a dictionary, and appeared under the title of _dictionnaire portatif de bibliographie, &c._, vo., comprising , articles, printed in a very small character. last year, in the month of may, fournier put forth a new edition of this _dictionnaire_, considerably augmented; but in which (such is the fate of bibliographical studies) notwithstanding all the care of the author, brunet tells us that he has discovered not fewer than five hundred errors! let not fournier, however be discouraged; in a few years he will achieve something yet more worthy of his laudable seal in bibliography.----antoine-alexandre barbier, librarian of the council of state, has favoured us with an admirably well executed work, entitled _dictionnaire des ouvrages anonymes et pseudonymes, composés, traduits ou publiés en français, &c., accompagneé de notes historiques et critiques_, paris, _imprimis bibliogr._, , vo., two vols. see also art. "conseil d'etat," in the list of french catalogues, post. from these the reader will judge of the warm thanks to which this eminent bibliographer is entitled for his very useful labours.----g. boucher de la richarderie has, in an especial manner, distinguished himself by his _bibliothéque universelle des voyages_, paris, , vo., six vols.: a work executed with care, minuteness, and considerable interest. some of its extracts are, perhaps, unnecessarily long. the index to the sixth volume will lead the reader to consult an account of some of the most ancient, rare, and curious publications of voyages which have ever appeared: and boucher "has deserved well" of the book world by this truly valuable and almost indispensable performance.----brunet le fils. this able writer, and enthusiastic devotee to bibliography, has recently published an excellent and copious work which would appear greatly to eclipse fournier's; entitled "_manuel du libraire et de l'amateur de livres, contenant, . un nouveau dictionnaire bibliographigue, . une table en forme de catalogue raisonnée_," paris, , vo., vols.: in which he tells us he has devoted at least thirty years to the examination of books. the first two volumes form a scientific arrangement: the latter is an alphabetical one, referring to one or the other of the preceding volumes for a more copious account of the work. it must be confessed that brunet has, in this publication, executed a difficult task with great ability.] lis. i am quite anxious to possess the publications of these moderns: but you say nothing of their comparative value with the ancients. lysand. generally speaking, in regard to discoveries of rare books and typographical curiosities, the moderns have the advantage. they have made more rational conclusions, from data which had escaped their predecessors: and the sparkling and animated manner in which they dress out the particular objects that they describe renders the perusal of their works more pleasant and gratifying. i am not sure that they have the learning of the old school: but their works are, in general, less ponderous and repulsive. the ancient bibliographers were probably too anxious to describe every thing, however minute and unimportant: they thought it better to say too much than too little; and, finding the great mass of readers in former times, uninstructed in these particular pursuits, they thought they could never exhaust a subject by bringing to bear upon it every point, however remotely connected! they found the plain, it is true, parched and sandy; but they were not satisfied with pouring water upon it, 'till they had converted it into a deluge.[ ] [footnote : what denis says, in the preface to his _catalog. cod. mss. bibl. palat. vindob._ (of which see p. , ante) is very just; "media incedendum via; neque nudis codicum titulis, ut quibusdam bibliothecis placuit, in chartam conjectis provehi multum studia, neque _doctis, quæ superioris seculi fuit intemperantia, ambagibus et excursibus_."--this is certainly descriptive of the old school of bibliography.] lis. let me ask you, at this stage of our inquiries, what you mean by bibliographical publications?--and whether the works of those authors which you have enumerated are sufficient to enable a novice, like myself, to have pretty accurate notions about the rarity and intrinsic value of certain works? lysand. by bibliographical publications, i mean such works as give us some knowledge of the literary productions, as well as of the life, of certain learned men; which state the various and the best editions of their lucubrations; and which stimulate us to get possession of these editions. every biographical narrative which is enriched with the mention of curious and rare editions of certain works is, to a great extent, a bibliographical publication. those works which treat professedly upon books are, of course, immediately within the pale of bibliography. lis. but am i to be satisfied with the possession of those works already recommended? phil. i suppose lisardo has heard of certain valuable catalogues, and he wishes to know how far the possession of these may be requisite in order to make him a bibliographer? lysand. at present i will say nothing about the catalogues of the collections of our own countrymen. as we have been travelling principally abroad, we may direct our attention to those which relate to foreign collections. and first, let us pay a due tribute of praise to the published catalogues of libraries collected by the jesuits: men of shrewd talents and unabating research, and in derogation of whose merits voltaire and d'alembert disgraced themselves by scribbling the most contemptible lampoons. the downfall of this society led, not very indirectly, to the destruction of the ancient french monarchy. men seemed to forget that while the most shameless depredations were committed within the libraries of the jesuits, the cause of learning, as well as of liberty, suffered,--and the spoils which have glittered before our eyes, as the precious relics of these collections, serve to afford a melancholy proof how little those men stick at any thing who, in raising the war-whoop of liberty and equality, tear open the very bowels of order, tranquillity, peace, and decorum! but, to the subject. let the catalogues of public collections, when they are well arranged, be received into your library. of foreign private collections, the catalogues[ ] of du fresne, cordes, heinsias, baluze, colbert, rothelin, de boze, prefond, pompadour, gaignat, gouttard, bunau, soubise, la valliere, crevenna, lamoignon, and of several other collections, with which my memory does not just now serve me, will enable you to form a pretty correct estimate of the _marketable value_ of certain rare and sumptuous publications. catalogues are, to bibliographers, what _reports_ are to lawyers: not to be read through from beginning to end--but to be consulted on doubtful points, and in litigated cases. nor must you, after all, place too strong a reliance upon the present prices of books, from what they have produced at former sales; as nothing is more capricious and unsettled than the value of books at a public auction. but, in regard to these catalogues, if you should be fortunate enough to possess any which are printed upon _large paper, with the names of the purchasers, and the prices_ for which each set of books was sold, thrice and four times happy may you account yourself to be, my good lisardo! [footnote : as it would have required more breath than usually falls to the lot of an individual, for lysander to have given even a rough sketch of the merits, demerits, and rarity of certain foreign catalogues of public and private collections--in his discourse with his friends--i have ventured to supply the deficiency by subjoining, in the ensuing _tolerably copious_ note, a list of these catalogues, alphabetically arranged; as being, perhaps, the most convenient and acceptable plan. such an attempt is quite novel; and must be received, therefore, with many grains of allowance. although i am in possession of the greater number (at least of two thirds) of the catalogues described, i am aware that, in regard to the description of those not in my own library, i subject myself to the lash of p. morhof. "inepti sunt, qui librorum catalogos scribunt e catalogis. oculata fides et judicium præsens requiritur." _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., . but the weight of my authorities will, i trust, secure me from any great violence of critical indignation. to render so dry a subject (the very "_hortus siccus_" of bibliography) somewhat palatable, i have here and there besprinkled it with biographical anecdotes of the collectors, and of the state of french literature in the last century and a half.----d'aguesseau. _catalogue des livres imprimés et manuscrits de la bibliothéque de feu monsieur d'aguesseau_, &c., paris, , vo. "anxious to enrich his collection, (says the compiler of this catalogue) the bibliomaniac sees with delight the moment arrive when, by the sale of a library like this, he may add to his precious stores. it is, in truth, a grand collection; especially of history, arts, and sciences, and jurisprudence. the famous chancellor d'aguesseau laid the foundation of this library, which was as universal as his own genius." it would appear that the son, to whom the collection latterly belonged, was gracious in the extreme in the loan of books; and that, in consequence, a public advertisement was inserted at the foot of the "avis preliminaire," to entreat those, who had profited by such kindness, to return their borrowed (shall i say stolen?) goods? for want of these volumes, many sets of books were miserably defective.----anonymiana. _catalogus bibliothecæ anonymianæ, in quo libri rariores recensentur, una cum notis litterariis_, norimb., , vo. this is a catalogue of value, and may be well ranged with its brethren upon the bibliographer's shelf. another "_bibliotheca anonymiana_," was published ten years preceding the present one; at the hague, in three parts, one vol., vo.: which, in the _bibl. solger._, vol iii., no. , is said to contain many rare books: see also no. , _ibid._----d'artois. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de monseigneur le compte d'artois_, paris, , vo. very few copies of this catalogue, which is printed in a wide octavo page, resembling that of a quarto, were struck off: according to fournier's _dict. portat. de bibliogr._, p. , edit. . see also _cat. de boutourlin_, no. .----augustana. _catalogus bibliothecæ inclytæ reipubl. augustanæ utriusque linguæ tum græcæ tum latinæ librorum et impressorum et manu exaratorum._ aug. vindel., , fol. morhof informs us that this catalogue, of which hoeschelius was the compiler, contains an account of some manuscripts which have never been printed, as well as of some which marcus velserus published. it is, moreover, full of precious bibliographical matter; but unfortunately (the possessor of it may think otherwise) only one hundred copies were struck off. _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., . i find, however, some little difficulty about distinguishing this catalogue of the augsbourg library from the impression of , fol., which vogt mentions at p. , and of which he also talks of copies being printed. it should not be forgotten that hoeschelius published an admirable catalogue of the greek mss. in the library of augsbourg, , and again , in to. colomiés pronounces it a model in its way. _bibl. choisie_, p. - . the catalogue of the greek mss. in the library of the duke of bavaria, at munich, was published about the same period; namely, in : the compiler was a skilful man, but he tells us, at the head of the catalogue, that the mss. were open to the inspection of every one who had any work in hand, provided he were a _roman catholic_! this was being very kind to protestants! _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., part i., p. , edit. . see also vogt's _catalog. libror. rarior._, p. .----augustana. _notitia historica-literaria de libris ab artis typographicæ inventione usque ad annum, , impressis, in bibliotheca monasterii ad ss. udalricum et afram augustæ extantibus._ august, vindel, , to. this volume, which i have no doubt would gratify the curious bibliographer, it has never been my good fortune to meet with. it is here introduced upon the authority of the _cat. du cardinal de loménie_, no. : ed. . i ought not to close this account of the augsbourg catalogues of books, without remarking, on the authority of reimannus, that the _first_ published catalogue of books is that which villerius, a bookseller at augsburg, put forth in the year . see the _bibl. acroam._, p. .----aurivillius. _catalogus bibliothecæ quam collegerat carolus aurivillius_, sectio [transcriber's note: section] i. and ii., upsal, , vo. this catalogue contains a plentiful sprinkling of short literary and bibliographical notes; according to _bibl. krohn_, p. , no. .----badenhaupt. _bibliotheca selectissima; sive catalogus librorum magnam partem philologicorum, quos inter eminent. auctores græci et romani classica quos collegit e.f. badenhaupt_, berol, , vo. the pithy bibliographical notes which are here and there scattered throughout this catalogue, render it of estimation in the opinion of the curious.----baluze. _bibliotheca balusiana; seu catalogus librorum bibliothecæ d.s. baluzii, a. gab. martin_, paris, , vo., two vols. let any enlightened bibliographers read the eulogy upon the venerable baluze (who died in his eighty-eighth year, and who was the great colbert's librarian), in the preface of the _bibl. colbertina_ (vide post), and in the _dict. hist._ (caen, , vol. i., p. - ), and he will not hesitate a moment about the propriety of giving this volume a conspicuous place upon his shelf. from the _bibl. mencken_, p. , it would appear that a third volume, containing translations of some mss. in the royal library, is wanting to make this catalogue complete. this third volume is uncommon.----barberini. _index bibliothecæ francisci barberini cardinalis. romæ, typis barberinis_, , fol., three vols. in two. the widely spread celebrity of cardinal barberini suffers no diminution from this publication of the riches contained within his library. the authors are arranged alphabetically, and not according to classes. although it be not the most luminous in its arrangement, or the most accurate in its execution, this finely printed catalogue will never remain long upon a bookseller's shelf without a purchaser. it were much to be desired that our own noblemen, who have fine collections of books, would put forth (after the example of cardinal barberini) similar publications.----barthelemy. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de m. l'abbé barthelemy, par m. bernard_, , vo. the high reputation of the owner of this collection will always secure purchasers for this catalogue of useful and interesting books.----bibliographie _des pays bas, avec quelques notes. nyon, en suisse_, , to. only fifty copies of this work were printed. it is a pity that peignot, who gives us this information, does not accompany it with some account of the nature and merits of the work--which probably grew out of the _histoire littéraire des pays blas_, , in three folio volumes. _bibl. curieuse_, p. .----bodleian. _catalog. libr. bibl. publ., &c., in acad. oxon._, , to. _catal. libr. impr._, , fol. _catalogi libror. mss. angl. et hibern._, , fol. _catalogus impress. libror. bibl. bodl._, , fol., two vols. although none but catalogues of foreign public and private collections were intended to be noticed in this list, the reader will forgive a little violation of the rule laid down by myself, if i briefly observe upon the catalogues of the bodleian library and the british museum. [for the latter, vide 'museum.'] the first of these bodleian catalogues contains an account of the mss. it was prepared by dr. james, the editor of the philobiblion of de bury (vide p. , ante), and, as it was the first attempt to reduce to "lucid order" the indigested pile of mss. contained in the library, its imperfections must be forgiven. it was afterwards improved, as well as enlarged, in the folio edition of , by bernard; which contains the mss. subsequently bequeathed to the library by selden, digby, and laud, alone forming an extensive and valuable collection. the editor of morhof (vol. i., , n.) has highly commended this latter catalogue. let the purchaser of it look well to the frontispiece of the portraits of sir thomas bodley and of the fore-mentioned worthies, which faces the title-page; as it is frequently made the prey of some prowling grangerite. the first catalogue of the _printed books_ in the bodleian library was compiled by the celebrated orientalist, dr. hyde: the second by fisher: of these, the latter is the more valuable, as it is the more enlarged. the plan adopted in both is the same: namely, the books are arranged alphabetically, without any reference to their classes--a plan fundamentally erroneous: for the chief object in catalogues of public collections is to know what works are published upon particular subjects, for the facility of information thereupon--whether our inquiries lead to publication or otherwise: an alphabetical index should, of course, close the whole. it is with reluctance my zeal for literature compels me to add that a _catalogue raisonnée of the manuscripts and printed books in the bodleian library_ is an urgent desideratum--acknowledged by every sensible and affectionate son of alma mater. talent there is, in abundance, towards the completion of such an honourable task; and the only way to bring it effectually into exercise is to employ heads and hands enough upon the undertaking. let it be remembered what wanley and messrs. planta and nares have done for the cottonian and harleian mss.--and what mr. douce is now doing for those of the lansdowne collection! one gentleman alone, of a very distinguished college, in whom the acuteness and solidity of porson seem almost revived, might do wonders for the greek mss., and lend an effectual aid towards the arrangement of the others. the printed books might be assigned, according to their several classes, to the gentlemen most conversant with the same; and the numerous bibliographical works, published since the catalogue of , might be occasionally referred to, according to the plan observed in the _notitia editionum vel primariæ, &c., in bibl. bodl. oxon._, , vo.; which was judiciously drawn up by the bishop of london, and the rev. dr. william jackson. i am aware that the aged hands of the present venerable librarian of the bodleian library can do little more than lay the foundation-stone of such a massive superstructure; but even this would be sufficient to enrol his name with the magliabecchis and baillets of former times--to entitle him to be classed among the best benefactors to the library--and to shake hands with its immortal founder, in that place where are et amoena vireta fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatæ. bonnier. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de bonnier._ paris, , vo. this catalogue is here introduced to the bibliographer's notice in order to sharpen his bibliomaniacal appetite to obtain one of the four copies only which were printed upon large paper of dutch manufacture. see _cat. de caillard_ ( ), no. .----boutourlin. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de s.e.m. le comte de boutourlin._ paris (an. xiii.), , vo. every one must conceive a high respect for the owner of this choice collection, from the amiable sentiments which pervade the preface to the catalogue. it has a good index; and is elegantly printed. my copy is upon large paper.----de boze. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de m. claude gros de boze._ paris. _de l'imp. royale_, , small folio. this is the first printed catalogue of the choice and magnificent library of de boze, the friend and correspondent of dr. mead, between whom presents of books were continually passing--as they were the first collectors of the day in their respective countries. some have said , some , others , and others only copies of this impression were struck off, as presents for the collector's friends. consult _bibl. mead_, p. , no. . _bibl. creven._, vol. v., . _bauer's bibl. rarior._, vol. i., . _bibl. curieuse_, p. . _bibl. askev._, no. . barbier's _dict. des anonymes_, vol. ii., no. .----de boze, _de la même bibliothéque_, , vo. this catalogue, which was executed by martin, after the death of de boze, does not contain all the notices of works mentioned in the preceding one. it is, however, well deserving of a place in the bibliographer's library. peignot tells us that there was yet a _third_ catalogue printed, in vo., containing pages, and giving an account of some books taken out of de boze's collection: a few of which are described in the preceding edition of . see his _bibl. cur._, p. .----bozerian. _notice des livres précieux ye [transcriber's note: de] m. bozérian, par m. bailly_, , vo. a cabinet of "precious books," indeed! the misfortune is, so small a number of modern foreign catalogues come over here that the best of them will be found in few of our libraries. whenever the "bibliotheca bozeriana" shall be imported, it will not stop seven days upon a bookseller's shelf!----bulteau. _bibliotheca bultelliana; (caroli bulteau) a gabr. martin_, paris, , mo., vols. in one. this catalogue, which is carefully compiled, contains curious and uncommon books; many of which were purchased for the collections of préfond, de boze, and others.----bunau. _catalogus bibliothecæ bunavianæ._ lipsiæ, . six parts, in three volumes, each volume having two parts--usually bound in six vols. highly and generally esteemed as is this extensive collection, and methodically arranged catalogue, of count bunau's books, the latter has always appeared to me as being branched out into too numerous ramifications, so as to render the discovery of a work, under its particular class, somewhat difficult, without reference to the index. i am aware that what camus says is very true--namely, that "nothing is more absurd than to quarrel about catalogue-making: and that every man ought to have certain fixed and decisive ideas upon the subject," [_mem. de l'inst._ vol. i., ,] but simplicity and perspicuity, which are the grand objects in every undertaking, might have been, in my humble apprehension, more successfully exhibited than in this voluminous catalogue. it represents _over-done analysis_! yet those who are writing upon particular subjects will find great assistance in turning to the different works here specified upon the same. it is rare and high-priced. from the preface, which is well worth an attentive perusal, it appears that this grand collection, now deposited in the electoral library at dresden (see _cat. de caillard_, no. , ,) was at count bunau's country-house, situated in a pleasant village about half a mile from dresden-- vicinam videt unde lector urbem. saxius, in his _onomast. literar._, vol i., p. xxxiii., edit. , &c., has a smart notice of this splendid collection.----bunneman. _j.l. bunnemanni catalogus manuscriptorum, item librorum impressorum rarissimorum pro assignato pretio venalium._ minda, , vo. for the sake of knowing, by way of curiosity, what books (accounted rare at this period) were sold for, the collector may put this volume into his pocket, when he finds it upon a book-stall marked at _s._ _d._ in the _bibl. solger._, vol iii., no. , there was a priced copy upon large paper with bibliographical memoranda.----caillard. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de m.a.b. caillard_, paris, , vo. of this private catalogue, compiled by caillard himself, and printed upon fine dutch paper, in super-royal vo., only twenty-five copies were struck off. so says fournier, _dict. portatif de bibliographie_: p. ; edit. , and the "avant-propos" prefixed to the subsequent catalogue here following:----_livres rares et précieux de la bibliothéque de feu m. ant. bern. caillard_, paris, , vo. there were but twenty-five copies of this catalogue of truly valuable, and, in many respects, rare, and precious, books, printed upon large paper, of the same size as the preceding. this was the sale catalogue of the library of caillard, who died in , in his sixty-ninth year, and of whose bibliomaniacal spirit we have a most unequivocal proof in his purchasing de cotte's celebrated uncut copy of the first printed homer, at an enormous sum! [vide cotte, post.] "sa riche bibliothéque est á-la-fois un monument de son amour pour l'art typographique, et de la vaste étendue de ses connoissances," p. xiv. some excellent indexes close this volume; of which mr. payne furnished me with the loan of his copy upon large paper.----cambis. _catalogue des principaux manuscrits du cabinet de m. jos. l.d. de cambis_, avignon, , to. although this is a catalogue of mss., yet, the number of copies printed being very few, i have given it a place here. some of these copies contain but , others , pages; which shews that the owner of the mss. continued publishing his account of them as they increased upon him. rive, in his "_chasse aux bibliographes_," has dealt very roughly with the worthy cambis; but peignot tells us that this latter was a respectable literary character, and a well-informed bibliographer--and that his catalogue, in spite of rive's diatribe, is much sought after. see the _bibliogr. curieuse_, p. ; also _cat. de la valliere_, vol. iii., no. .----camus de limare. _catalogues des livres de m. le camus de limare_, paris, , mo.--_des livres rares et précieux de m---- (camus de limare)_, paris, , vo.--_des livres rares et précieux, reliés en maroquin, de la bibliothéque du même, paris, an trois_ ( ), vo. of the _first_ catalogue only a small number of copies was printed, and those for presents. _bibliogr. curieuse_, p. . it contains a description of de boze's extraordinary copy of du fresnoy's "methode pour étudier l'histoire," , to., four volumes, with the supplement, , two vols.; which was sold for livres; and which was, of course, upon large paper, with a thousand inviting additions, being much more complete than the similar copies in _cat. de valliere_, no. ; and _cat. de crevenna_, no. , edit. ; although this latter was preferable to the valliere copy. consult also the _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. - . the _second_ catalogue was prepared by de bure, and contains a very fine collection of natural history, which was sold at the hôtel de bullion. the printed prices are added. the _third_ catalogue, which was prepared by santus, after the decease of camus, contains some very choice articles [many printed upon vellum] of ancient and modern books superbly bound.----catalogue _des livres rares. par guillaume de bure, fils âiné._ paris, , vo. we are told, in the advertisement, that this collection was formed from a great number of sales of magnificent libraries, and that particular circumstances induced the owner to part with it. the books were in the finest order, and bound by the most skilful binders. the bibliographical notices are short, but judicious; and a good index closes the catalogue. the sale took place at the hôtel de bullion.----catalogue _fait sur un plan nouveau, systématique et raisonné, d'une bibliothéque de littérature, particulièrement d'histoire et de poésie, &c._ utrecht, , vo., two vols. a judicious and luminous arrangement of , articles, or sets of books; which, in the departments specified in the title-page, are singularly copious and rich.----catalogus _librorum rarissimorum, ab artis typographicæ inventoribus, aliisque ejus artis principibus ante annum excusorum; omnium optime conservatorum_, vo., _sine loco aut anno_. peignot, who has abridged vogt's excellent account of this very uncommon and precious catalogue, of which only twenty-five copies were printed, has forgotten to examine the last edition of the _catalog. libror. rarior._, pp. - ; in which we find that the collection contained (and not ) volumes. at the end, it is said: "pretiosissima hæc librorum collectio, cujusvis magni principis bibliotheca dignissima, constat voll. ccxlviii." consult the respectable references in vogt, _ibid._; also the _bibliogr. curieuse_ of peignot, p. .----ceran. _catalogue des livres de m. mel de saint ceran._ paris, , vo., again in , vo. these catalogues were compiled by de bure, and are carefully executed. some of the books noticed in them are sufficiently curious and rare.----clementino-vaticana. _bibliotheca orientalis clementino vaticana, in quâ manuscriptos codices orientalium linguarum recensuit joseph simonius assemanus_, romæ, . folio, four vols. asseman's son compiled an excellent catalogue of the oriental mss. in the medico-laurentian library; but this work of the father is more curious and elaborate. whenever a few half-guineas can procure it, let the country-settled philologist send his "henchman" to fly for it!--"speed, malise, speed." but alas! santander tells us that copies of it are rare. _cat. de santander_, vol. iv., no. .----colbert. _bibliotheca colbertina: seu catalogus librorum bibliothecæ quæ fuit primum j.b. colbert, deinde j.b. colbert (fil) postea j. nic. colbert, ac demum c.l. colbert._ parisiis, , vo., three vols. the preface to this valuable catalogue (executed by martin) gives us a compressed, but sufficiently perspicuous, account of the auspices under which such an extensive and magnificent collection was assembled and arranged. it contains not fewer than , articles; being perhaps , volumes. the celebrated baluze was the librarian during the life of the former branches of the colbert family; a family which, if nothing remained to perpetuate their fame but this costly monument of literary enterprise, will live in the grateful remembrance of posterity--but it wants not even such a splendid memorial! the lover of fine and curious books will always open the volumes of the colbert catalogue with a zest which none but a thorough bred bibliomaniac can ever hope to enjoy.----conseil d'etat. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque du conseil d'etat (par m. barbier, bibliothecaire du conseil d'etat)._ paris, an. xi. ( ), folio. "this catalogue is most superbly executed. the richness of the materials of which it is composed, the fine order of its arrangement, and the skilful researches exhibited in it relating to anonymous authors, are worthy of the typographical luxury of the national press, from which this curious work was put forth. it will be perfect in three parts: the third part, containing the supplement and tables, is now at press." (a.d. .) the preface and table of the divisions of this catalogue were published in a small vo. volume, . this information i glean from peignot's _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. lix.; and from the _cat. de boutourlin_, no. , i learn that only copies of so useful, as well as splendid, a work were printed, of which the french government took upon itself the distribution.----cordes. _bibliothecæ cordesianæ catalogus, cum indice titulorum_, parisiis, , to. the celebrated naudé had the drawing up and publishing of this catalogue, which is highly coveted by collectors, and is now of rare occurrence. de cordes was intimate with all the learned men of his country and age; and his eulogy, by naudé, prefixed to the catalogue, gives us a delightful account of an amiable and learned man living in the bosom, as it were, of books and of book-society. this collection, which was purchased by cardinal mazarin, formed the foundation of the latter's magnificent library. consult the _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., p. ; colomié's _biblioth. choisie_, p. ; _mem. de l'inst._, vol. i., p. . nor must we forget morhof--_polyhist. literar._, vol. i., p. ; who, after a general commendation of the collection, tells us it is remarkable for containing a fine body of foreign history. de cordes died a.d. , in the d year of his age--nearly years having been devoted by him to the formation of his library. "fortunate senex!"----cotte. _catalogue des livres rares et précieux et de mss. composant la bibliothéque de m---- (le president de cotte)_, paris, , vo. we are told by peignot that the books at this sale were sold for most exorbitant sums: "the wealthy amateurs striving to make themselves masters of the large paper alduses, elzevirs, and stephenses, which had been count d'hoym's copies." an uncut first edition of homer, in the highest state of preservation, was purchased by mons. caillaird [transcriber's note: caillard] for , livres! see the _curiosités bibliographiques_, pp. lxv, lxvj. according to _cat. de caillard_, no. ( , vo.), there were only ten copies of this catalogue printed upon large paper.----couvay. _catalogue de la bibliothéque de m. couvay, chevalier de l'ordre de christ, secrétaire du roi_, paris, , fol. very few copies of this catalogue were printed, and those only for presents. _bibliogr. curieuse_, p. .----crevenna. _catalogue raisonnée de la collection des livres de m. pierre antoine crevenna, négocient à amsterdam_, , to., six vols.--_de la même collection_, , vo., five vols.--_de la même collection_, , vo. of these catalogues of one of the most extensive and magnificent collections ever formed in amsterdam, the first impression of (to which i have generally referred) is by far the most valuable in regard to bibliographical remarks and copious description. peignot tells us that no bibliographer can do without it. it was commenced in the year , and published during the life time of peter antony crevenna, the father; from whom the collection passed into the hands of the son bolongari crevenna, and in whose lifetime it was sold by public auction. the second impression of is the sale-catalogue, and contains more books than the preceding one; but the bibliographical observations are comparatively trifling. there are copies of this latter impression upon large paper in quarto. i possess an interesting copy of the small paper, which has numerous marginal remarks in pencil, by mr. edwards; who examined the library at amsterdam, with a view to purchase it entire. the last catalogue of , which was published after the death of the son, contains a few choice books which he had reserved for himself, and, among them, a curious set of fac-simile drawings of old prints and title-pages; some of which were obtained at the sale of the elder mirabeau (vide post). it seems to have been the ruling passion of b. crevenna's life to collect all the materials, from all quarters, which had any connection, more or less, with "the origin and progress of printing," and it is for ever to be regretted that such extensive materials as those which he had amassed, and which were sold at the sale of should have been dissipated beyond the hope of restoration. see peignot's _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. iii., p. ; and his _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. .----crozat. _catalogue des livres de monsieur le president crozat de tugny_, paris, , vo. this collection was particularly rich in the belles-lettres--and especially in italian and french romance-literature.----van damme. _catalogue d'une bibliotheque, vendue publiquement à la haye, le octobre, par varon et gaillard_, , three vols. vo. "this precious and rare collection belonged to m. pierre van damme, book-merchant at amsterdam, equally well known for his knowledge of bibliography and of medals; of which latter he had a beautiful and uncommon collection." _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., p. .----dubois. _bibliotheca duboisiana, ou catalogue de la bibliothéque du cardinal dubois. a la haye_, , vo., four vols. a collection which evinces the fine taste and sound judgment of the cardinal du bois. it is not rare abroad.----elzevir. _catalogus librorum qui in bibliopolio officinæ danielis elzevirii venales extant_, ams. , mo.: , mo.--_qui in bibliopoli elzeviriano venales extant_, lug. bat., , , to. these, and other catalogues of the books printed by the distinguished family of the elzevirs, should find a place within the cabinet of bibliographers. the first book ever published by the elzevirs was of the date of ; the last, of or , by daniel elzevir, who was the only surviving branch. his widow carried on the business after his decease in . in the _dictionnaire de bibliologie_ of peignot, vol. i., p. , vol. iii., p. , will be found a pleasing account of this family of (almost) unrivalled printers.----du fay. _bibliotheca fayana seu catalogus librorum bibl. cor. hier. de cisternay du fay, digestus à gabriel martin_, paris, , vo. the catalogue of this collection, which is a judicious one, and frequently referred to, is very carefully put forth by martin. i think that i have seen a copy of it upon large paper.----fagel. _bibliotheca fageliana. a catalogue of the valuable and extensive library of the greffier fagal, of the hague: in two parts._ london, , vo. it is highly creditable to that most respectable establishment, trinity college, dublin, that the present grand collection of books was purchased "en masse" (for _l._) to be deposited within its library; thus rendering the interior of the latter "companion meet" for its magnificent exterior. the title-page of the first part announces the sale of the books by auction by mr. christie; but the above offer having been made for the whole collection, the same was forthwith transported to ireland. collectors should take care that the second part of this catalogue be not wanting, which is oftentimes the case. a good index only is requisite to make the bibliotheca fageliana rank with the most valuable publications of its kind in existence. it was compiled by the well-known s. paterson.----faultrier. _catalogus librorum bibliothecæ domini joachimi faultrier, digestus à prosper marchand_, paris, , vo. the bibliographical introductory remarks, by marchand, render this volume (which rarely occurs) very acceptable to collectors of catalogues. maittaire has spoken well of the performance, _annal. typog._ iii., p. . consult also the _mem. de l'inst._, vol. i., p. , and the _dict. de bibliologie_, vol. ii., p. , upon marchand's introductory remarks relating to the arrangement of a library.----favier. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de feu mons. l'abbé favier, prêtre à lille_, lille, , vo. a well arranged catalogue of a choice collection of books, which cost the abbé fifty years of pretty constant labour in amassing. prefixed, are some interesting notices of mss.: and, among them, of a valuable one of froissart. the prints of the abbé were afterwards sold, from a catalogue of pages, printed at lisle in the same year.----du fresne. _raphaelis tricheti du fresne bibliothecæ catalogus._ paris, , to. "i have observed," says morhof, "a number of authors in this catalogue which i have in vain sought after elsewhere. the typographical errors (especially in regard to dates, adds baillet) are innumerable: and the theological, legal, and medical works, comparatively few--but in the departments of history, antiquities, and general literature, this collection is wonderfully enriched--containing authors hardly ever heard of." _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., p. . colomiés and labbe unite in conferring the highest praises upon du fresne and his collection. see the _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., p. ; where, however, the confused and inaccurate manner in which the catalogue is executed is sharply censured by baillet. morhof informs us that this collection was disposed of by du fresne's widow, to the royal library, for , _livres_, after she had refused , for the same.----gaignat. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de feu m. louis jean gaignat, disposé et mis en ordre par guill. françois de bure le jeune._ paris, , vo., two vols. one of the best executed, and most intrinsically valuable catalogues in existence. almost all the books of gaignat were in the choicest condition; being the cream of the collections of colbert, préfond, and de boze. the possession of this rare catalogue, which is indispensable to the collector, forms what is called a supplement to de bure's "_bibliographie instructive_." there are copies struck off upon small quarto paper, to arrange with a like number of this latter work. consult _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., p. .----genÈve. _catalogue raisonné des manuscrits conservés dans la bibliothéque, &c., de genève; par jean senibier._ genève, , vo. a neatly executed and useful catalogue of some manuscripts of no mean value. it has received a good character by mons. van-praet, in the _cat. de la valliere_, vol. iii., no. . see also p. , ante.----goez. _bibliothecæ goësinæ catalogus_, leidæ, , vo. a fine collection of books and of coins distinguished the museum of goez.----golowkin. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque du comte alexis de golowkin_, leipsic, , to. it is said that only copies of this catalogue were struck off, and that not more than two of these are known to be in france. neither the type nor paper has the most inviting aspect; but it is a curious volume, and contains a description of books "infiniment précieux." consult peignot's _bibliogr. curieuse_, p. . dr. clarke, in his _travels in russia, &c._, p. , has noticed the extraordinary library of count botterline, but says nothing of golowkin's.----gouttard. _catalogue des livres rares et precieux de feu m. gouttarde par guillaume de bure fils aîné._ paris, , vo. a short bibliographical notice of the amiable and tasteful owner of this select collection precedes the description of the books. the bibliographical observations are sometimes copious and valuable. this catalogue is indispensable to the collector.----guyon. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de feu m.j.b. denis guyon, chev. seigneur de sardiere, ancien capitaine au regiment du roi, et l'un des seigneurs du canal de briare._ paris, , vo. it is justly said, in the "advertisement" prefixed to this catalogue, that, in running over the different classes of which the collection is composed, there will be found articles "capable de piquer la curiosité des bibliophiles." in ancient and modern poetry, and in romances--especially relating to chivalry--this "ancient captain" appears to have been deeply versed. the advertisement is followed by pages of "eclaircissemens"--which give an interesting account of some precious manuscripts of old poetry and romances. a ms. note, in my copy of this catalogue, informs me that the books were sold "en masse."----heinsius. (nic.) _nicolai heinsii bibliothecæ catalogus_, ( ) vo. a portrait of the elegant and learned owner of this collection faces the title-page. the books contained in it are remarkable both for their rarity and intrinsic value; and a great number of them were enriched with the notes of scaliger, salmasius, and others. few collections display more judgment and taste in the selection than the present one; and few critics have been of more essential service to the cause of ancient classical literature than nicholas heinsius. he excelled particularly in his editions of the poets. mr. dyer, of exeter, the bookseller, has a copy of this catalogue, which was formerly grævius's; in which that celebrated critic has made marginal remarks concerning the rarity and value of certain works described in it.----hohendorf. _bibliotheca hohendorfiana; ou catalogue de la bibliothéque de feu mons. george guillaume baron de hohendorf: à la haye_, , vo., three parts. a magnificent collection; which a ms. note, by dr. farmer (in my copy of the catalogue), informs me was "added to the emperor's library at vienna." in the _bibl. mencken_, p. , it is thus loftily described: "catalogus per-rarus rarissimis libris superbiens."----hoym. _catalogus librorum bibliothecæ caroli henrici comitis de hoym_, , vo. this catalogue, which is exceedingly well "digested by martin," is a great favourite with collectors. a copy out of count hoym's collection tells well--whether at a book-sale, or in a bookseller's catalogue. there are copies upon large paper, which, when priced, sell high.----hulsius. _bibliotheca hulsiana, sive catalogus librorum quos magno labore, summa cura et maximis sumptibus collegit vir consularis samuel hulsius._ hag. com. , four vols. vo. (the second and third being in two parts, and the fourth in three). this is, in sober truth, a wonderful collection of books; containing nearly , articles--which, allowing three volumes to an article, would make the owner to have been in possession of , volumes of printed books and mss. the english library, (vol. iv., pt. ii.) of nearly articles, comprehended nearly all the best books of the day. there were about articles of spanish literature. nor was the worthy consul deficient in the love of the fine arts ("hæc est, sitque diu, senis optimi voluptas et oblectatio," says the compiler of the catalogue); having , most beautiful prints of subjects relating to the bible, bound up in atlas folio volumes. long live the memory of hulsius; a consular hero of no ordinary renown!----jena. _memorabilia bibliothecæ academicæ jenensis: sive designatio codicum manuscriptorum illa bibliothecâ et librorum impressorum plerumque rariorum. joh. christophoro mylio._ jenæ, , vo. a work of some little importance; and frequently referred to by vogt and panzer. it is uncommon.----jesu soc. _bibliotheca scriptorum societatis jesu._ antv., . romæ, , fol. although this work is not a professed catalogue of books, yet, as it contains an account of the writings of those learned men who were in the society of the jesuits--and as baillet, antonio, and morhof, have said every thing in commendation of it--i strongly recommend one or the other of these editions to the bibliographer's attention. i possess the edition of ; and have frequently found the most satisfactory intelligence on referring to it. how clever some of the jesuits were in their ideas of the arrangement of a library may be seen from their "_systema bibliothecæ jesuitarum collegii ludoviciani_"--which was written by garnier for the private use of the louvain college, and which is now extremely difficult to be found. see maichelius, _de præcip. bibl. parisiens_, p. . their "_systema bibliothecæ collegii parisiensis societatis jesu_," , to. (or catalogue of books in the college of clermont), is handsomely noticed by camus in the _mem. de l'inst._, vol. i., .----just, st. _catalogue des livres en très-petit nombre qui composent la bibliothéque de m. merard de st. just, ancien maitre-d'hotêl de monsieur, frère du roi (avec les prix d'achat)._ paris, , mo. of this book, printed upon superfine paper, of the manufactory of d'annonay, only copies were struck off. _bibl. curieuse_, p. . another catalogue of the same collection (perhaps a more copious one) was put forth in , vo., prepared by m. mauger, see _diction. bibliographique_, tom. iv., p. xiv.----krohn. _catalogus bibliothecæ præstantissimorum &c., librorum selectum complectentis. libros collegit et literariis catalogum animadversionibus instruxit, b.n. krohn. editio altera._ hamb. , vo. the preface to this very excellent collection of books is written in latin by rambach; and a most interesting one it is. after giving a slight sketch of the life and literary occupations of krohn, he thus finishes the picture of his death--"ego certe (exclaims the grateful biographer), mi krohni, te amabo, et quamdiu 'spiritus hos reget artus' gratam tui memoriam ex animo nunquam elabi patiar. o! me felicem, si, qua olim me beasti, amicitiâ nunc quoque frui possem. sed fruar aliquando, cum deus me ad beatorum sedes evocaverit, ac te mihi rediderit conjunctissimum. vale, interim, pia anima; et quem jam tristem reliquisti, prope diem exspecta, in tenerrimos tuos amplexus properantem, ac de summa, quam nunc habes, felicitate tibi congratulantem," p. xix. this is the genuine language of heart-felt grief; language, which those who have lost an old and good friend will know well how to appreciate. this catalogue, which was given to me by my friend the rev. dr. gosset, 'vir in re bibliographicâ [greek: polymathestatos],' exhibits a fine collection of books ( in number) relating to history and philology. some of krohn's notes are sufficiently shrewd and intelligent.----lamoignon. _catalogue des livres imprimés et manuscrits de la bibliothéque de m. le president de lamoignon (redigé par l. fr. delatour) avec une table des auteurs, et des anonymes._ paris, , fol. the bibliographer has only to hear peignot speak in his own language, and he will not long hesitate about the price to be given for so precious [transcriber's note: 'a' missing in original] volume: "catalogue fort rare, tiré a quinze exemplaires seulement, sur du papier de coton fabriqué, par singularité, à angoulême." mr. harris, of the royal institution, possesses a copy of it, bound in orange-coloured morocco, which was presented to him by mr. payne; and, as alexander placed his beloved homer--so does he this catalogue--uner [transcriber's note: under] his pillow "quand il vent se reposer--a cause des songes agréables qu'il doit inspirer." this beautiful volume, which was printed for lamoignon's own convenience, in supplemental parts, does not, however, contain baillet's interesting latin prefece, which may be seen in the _jugemens des savans_, vol. [transcriber's note: volume number missing in original] pt. ii., p. , ed. .----lamoignon. _des livres de la bibliothéque de feu m. de lamoignon, garde de sçeaux de france._ paris, , vo., vols. these volumes contain the sale catalogue of lamoignon's books as they were purchased by mr. t. payne, the bookseller. like the great libraries of crevenna and pinelli, this immense collection (with the exception of the works upon french jurisprudence) has been dissipated by public sale. it yet delights mr. payne to think and to talk of the many thousand volumes which were bound in morocco, or russia, or white-calf-leather, "with gilt on the edges"--which this extraordinary family of book-collectors had amassed with so much care and assiduity. the preface gives us a short, but pleasing, account of the bibliomanical spirit of lamoignon's father-in-law, monsieur berryer; who spent between thirty and forty years in enriching this collection with all the choice, beautiful, and extraordinary copies of works which, from his ministerial situation, and the exertions of his book-friends, it was possible to obtain. m. berryer died in , and his son-in-law in .----lamoignon. _des livres de la même biblothéque, par nyon l'âiné._ paris, , vo. this volume presents us with the relics of a collection which, in its day, might have vied with the most splendid in europe. but every thing earthly must be dissipated.----lancelot. _catalogue des livres de feu m. lancelot de l'academie royale des belles lettres._ paris, , vo. those who are fond of making their libraries rich in french history cannot dispense with this truly valuable catalogue. lancelot, like the elder lamoignon, appears to have been "buried in the benedictions of his countrymen"--according to the energetic language of bourdaloue.----lemariÉ. _catalogue des livres de feu m. lemarié, disposé et mis en ordre, par guil. de bure, fils aîné_, paris, , vo. a well digested catalogue of a rich collection of greek and latin literature, which evinces a man of taste and judgment. nothing can be more handsomely said of a collection than what de bure has prefixed to the present one. in the _cat. de gouttard_, no. , i find a copy of it upon large paper.----lomÉnie. _index librorum ab inventa typographia da annum , &c., cum notis, &c._ senonis, , vo., two vols. the owner of this collection, whose name does not appear in the title-page, was the celebrated cardinal de lomÉnie de brienne: who is described, in the advertisement prefixed to the catalogue of his books in , [vide infra] as having, from almost early youth, pushed his love of book-collecting to an excess hardly equalled by any of his predecessors. when he was but a young ecclesiastic, and had only the expectation of a fortune, his ruling passion for books, and his attachment to fellow bibliomaniacs, was ardent and general. but let his panegyrist speak in his own language--"si le hazard procuroit à ses amis quelque objét précieux, il n'avoit de repos qu'aprés l'avoir obtenu; les sacrifices ne l'effrayoient pas; il étoit né généreaux; mais ce qu'on lui accordoit, il le devoit sur-tout à ses manières insinuantes. ses sollicitations étoient toujours assaisonnées d'un ton d'amabilité auquel on résistoit difficilement. lorsque le tems et les grâces de la cour eurent aggrandi ses moyens, ses veus s'etendirent à proportion. insensiblement il embressa tous les genres, et sa bibliothéque devint un dépôt universel. dans ses fréquens voyages, s'il s'arrêtoit quelques instans dans une ville, on le voyoit visiter lui-même les libraries, s'introduire dans les maisons religieuses, s'insinuer dans les cabinets d'amateurs, chercher par-tout à acquérir; c'etoit un besoin pour lui d'acheter sans cesse, d'entasser les volumes. cette passion a peut-être ses excés; mais du moins, elle ne fut pas pour le cardinal de loménie une manie stérile. non seulement il aimoit, il connoissoit les livres, mais il savoit s'en servir; sans contredit il fut un des hommes les plus éclairés du clergé de france."----to return from this pleasing rhapsody to the catalogue, the title of which is above given. it is composed by laire, in the latin language, with sufficient bibliographical skill: but the index is the most puzzling one imaginable. the uncommonly curious and magnificent collection, not being disposed of "en masse"--according to advertisement--was broken up; and the more ancient books were sold by auction at paris, in , from a french catalogue prepared by de bure. some of the books were purchased by mr. edwards, and sold at london in the paris collection [vide p. , post]; as were also those relating to natural history; which latter were sold by auction without his eminence's name: but it is a gross error in the _bibl. krohn_, p. , no. , to say that many of these books were impious and obscene. these are scarce and dear volumes; and as they supply some deficiencies [transcriber's note: missing 'in'] audiffredi's account of books published at rome in the xvth century [vid. p. , ante], the bibliographer should omit no opportunity of possessing them.----lomÉnie. _d'une partie des livres de la bibliothéque du cardinal de loménie de brienne_, paris, an. v. [ ], vo. this collection, the fragments or ruins of the lomenie library, contains articles, or numbers, with a rich sprinkling of italian literature; leaving behind, however, a surplus of not fewer than twelve hundred pieces relating to the italian drama--many of them rare--which were to be sold at a future auction. from the biographical memoir prefixed to this catalogue, i have given the preceding extract concerning the character of the owner of the collection--who died in the same year as the sale.----macarthy. _catalogue des livres rares et précieux du cabinet de m.l.c.d.m._ (_m. le comte de macarthy_), paris, , vo. _supplement au catalogue des livres, &c._, de m.l.c.d.m., paris, , vo. _chez de bure, fils aîné._ these books were sold in january, ; and great things are said, in the advertisement, of their rarity and beauty. the count macarthy has, at this moment, one of the most magnificent collections upon the continent. his books printed upon vellum are unequalled by those of any private collection. of the above catalogue, a copy upon strong writing paper occurs in the _cat. de gouttard_, no. .----magliabechi. _catalogus codicum sæculo_ xv. _impressorum qui in publica bibliotheca magliabechiana florentiæ adservantur. autore ferdinando fossio; ejusd. bibl. præf._, florent., , folio, three vols. a magnificent and truly valuable publication (with excellent indexes) of the collection of the famous magliabechi; concerning whom the bibliographical world is full of curious anecdotes. the reader may consult two volumes of letters from eminent men to magliabechi, published in , &c., vide _bibl. pinell_, no. , &c., edit. : wolfius's edition of the _bibliotheca aprosiana_, p. ; and the strawberry hill[c] edition of the _parallel between magliabechi and mr. hill_, , vo.--an elegant and interesting little volume. before we come to speak of his birth and bibliographical powers, it may be as well to contemplate his expressive physiognomy. [illustration] magliabechi was born at florence october , . his parents, of low and mean rank, were well satisfied when they got him into the service of a man who sold herbs and fruit. he had never learned to read; and yet he was perpetually poring over the leaves of old books that were used in his master's shop. a bookseller, who lived in the neighbourhood, and who had often observed this, and knew the boy could not read, asked him one day "what he meant by staring so much on printed paper?" magliabechi said that "he did not know how it was, but that he loved it of all things." the consequence was that he was received, with tears of joy in his eyes, into the bookseller's shop; and hence rose, by a quick succession, into posts of literary honour, till he became librarian to the grand duke of tuscany. in this situation magliabechi had nothing further, or more congenial to his feelings, to sigh for: in the florentine library he revelled without cessation in the luxury of book-learning. the strength of his memory was remarkable; one day, the grand duke sent for him to ask whether he could procure a book that was particularly scarce. "no, sir," answered magliabechi, "it is impossible; for there is but one in the world, and that is in the grand signior's library at constantinople, and is the seventh book on the second shelf on the right hand as you go in." in spite of his cobwebs, dirt, and cradle lined with books, magliabechi reached his st year. hearne has contrived to interweave the following (rather trifling) anecdote of him, in his _johan. confrat., &c., de reb. glaston_, vol. ii., --which i give merely because it is the fashion to covet every thing which appertaineth to tom hearne. "i have mentioned the bank where the mss. (concerning the epistles of st. ignatius; bank lvii.) stands, and the title of the book, because vossius tells us not in his preface which of the several mss. in this library he made use of; and to finde it out gave me so much trouble that, if the grand duke's library-keeper had not known the book, and searched it for me, i think i should never have met with it, there being not one canon of st. laurence, not their library-keeper himself, nor, i believe, any other in florence, except this sre. magliabechi, that could direct me to it. the learned bishop will be pleased to take notice of sre. maliabechi's [transcriber's note: magliabechi's] civility; who, besides procuring me the grand duke's leave to collate the epistles, attended himself in the library, all the time i was there (the licence being granted by the grand duke upon this condition): and since, as a mark of his respect to the reverend bishop, hath been pleased to present him with a book (about the florentine history) which i have committed to mr. ferne, my lord lexinton's gentleman, to be conveyed to his lordship." (mr. ledgerd's account of his collations of the florentine ms. with the edition of vossius.)----st. mark. _græca d. marci bibliotheca codicum manuscriptorum præside laurentio theopolo._ venet. , folio: _ejusdem latina et italica bibliotheca codicum manuscriptorum præside eodem_, venet. , folio. these useful and handsomely executed volumes should be found in every extensive philological collection.----medici-lorenzo. _bibliothecæ mediceo-laurentianæ et palatinæ codicum manuscriptorum orientalium catalogus digessit s.e. assemanus._ florent. , folio. a very valuable and splendid publication; evincing the laudable ambition of the medici in their encouragement of oriental literature. the editor is commended in the preface of the subsequent catalogue, p. xxxxv.----medici-lorenzo. _bibliothecæ hebraico-grecæ florentinæ sive bibliothecæ mediceo-laurentianæ catalogus ab antonio maria biscionio, &c., digestus atque editus_, florent., , folio, two vols. in one. a grand book; full of curious fac-similes of all sorts of things. it was begun to be printed in , but biscioni's death, in may, , prevented the completion of the publication 'till may . see præfat., p. xxxxvii--and particularly the colophon.----medici-lorenzo. _catalogus codicum manuscriptorum, græcorum, latinorum, et italicoram, bibliothecæ medicæ laurentianæ: angelus maria bandinus recensuit, illustravit edidit._ florent., ; vols., ; vols., folio. an equally splendid work with the preceding--and much more copious and erudite in regard to intrinsically valuable matter. the indexes are excellent. no extensive philological library should be without these volumes--especially since the name of medici has recently become so popular, from the able biographical memoirs of the family by mr. roscoe.----menarsiana. _bibliotheca menarsiana; ou catalogue de la bibliothéque de feu messire jean jaques charron, chevalier marquis de menars_, &c. a la haye, , vo. a very fine collection of books in all branches of literature. after the "ordo venditionis," there is an additional leaf pasted in, signifying that a magnificent copy of fust's bible of , upon paper, would be sold immediately after the theological mss. in folio. it brought the sum of florins. the sale commenced at nine and at two; giving the buyers time to digest their purchases, as well as their dinners, at twelve! "tempora mutantur!"----menckenius. _catalogus bibliothecæ menckenianæ ab ottone et burchardo collectæ. editior altera longe emendatior._ lips., , vo. there are some curious and uncommon books in this collection; which evince the taste and judgment of menckenius, who was a scholar of no mean reputation. perhaps the word "rare" is too lavishly bestowed upon some of the books described in it.----meon. _catalogue des livres précieux singuliéres et rares de la bibliothèque de m. meon._ paris, an. xii. ( ), vo. a very choice collection of books; catalogued with considerable care.----mercier. _catalogue de la bibliothéque de m. mercier, abbé de saint leger_, par. m. de bure, , vo. if the reader has chanced to cast his eye over the account of the abbé de st. leger, at p. , ante, he will not hesitate long about procuring a copy of the catalogue of the library of so truly eminent a bibliographer.----mÉrigot. _catalogue des livres de m.j.g. mérigot, libraire_, par m. de bure, , vo. it is very seldom that this catalogue appears in our own country: which is the more provoking as the references to it, in foreign bibliographical works, render its possession necessary to the collector. mérigot was an eminent bookseller, and prepared a good catalogue of m. lorry's library, which was sold in , vo.----st. michael. _bibliotheca codicum manuscriptorum monasterij sancti michaelis venetiarum, una cum appendice librorum impressorum sæculi_ xv. _opus posthumum joannis bened. mittarelli._ venet., , folio. it were much to be wished that, after the example of this and other monasteries, all religious houses, which have large libraries attached to them, would publish accounts of their mss. and printed books. there is no knowing what treasures are hid in them, and of which the literary world must remain ignorant, unless they are thus introduced to general notice. how many curious and amusing anecdotes may be told of precious works being discovered under barbarous titles! among others, take, gentle reader, the two following ones--relating to books of a very different character. within a volume, entitled _secreta alberti_, were found "_the fruyte of redempcyon_," printed by w. de worde, , to.; and a hitherto imperfectly described impression of _the boke of fyshinge_, printed by w. de worde, in to., without date; which usually accompanies that fascinating work, ycleped dame juliana barnes's _boke of hawkyng, huntyng, and cote armoor_. my friend mr. j. haslewood first made me acquainted with this rare treasure--telling me he had "a famous tawny little volume" to shew me: his pulse, at the same time, i ween, beating one hundred and five to the minute! the second anecdote more exactly accords with the nature of my preliminary observations. in one of the libraries abroad, belonging to the jesuits, there was a volume entitled, on the back of it "_concilium tridenti_:" the searching eye and active hands of a well-educated bibliomaniac discovered and opened this volume--when lo! instead of the _council of trent_, appeared the _first_, and almost unknown, _edition_ of the _decameron of boccaccio_! this precious volume is now reposing upon the deserted shelves of the late duke of roxburgh's library; and, at the forth-coming sale of the same, it will be most vigorously contended for by all the higher and more knowing powers of the bibliographical world; but when the gods descending swell'd the fight, then tumult rose; fierce rage and pale affright varied each face: [_pope's_] _homer's iliad_, b. xx. v. . mirabeau. _catalogue de la bibliotheque de mirabeau l'aîné, par rozet_, , vo. a fine collection of books; some of them very curious and uncommon. at the head of the choice things contained in it must be noticed the "recueil de calques, ou dessins des titres et figure d'un grand nombre des plus anciens ouvrages, gravés en bois, ou imprimés en caractères mobiles, depuis l'origine de l'imprimerie," &c. these designs were in number; of which a description is given at the head of the catalogue. they were purchased for livres, and again sold, with the same description prefixed, at the last crevenna sale of (see p. , ante). consult the _curiosités bibliographiques_ of peignot, p. .----miromenil. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de m. hüe de miromenil, garde des sceaux de france_, paris, , to. "it appears, from the catalogue of m. de coste, that this is a rare book, of which only few copies were printed, and those never sold." _bibliogr. curieuse_, p. .----montfauÇon. _diarium italicum; sive monumentorum veterum, bibliothecarum, musæorum notitiæ singulares a d. bernardo de montfauçon_, paris, , to. _bibliotheca bibliothecarum manuscriptorum nova, autore de bern. de montfauçon_, paris, , folio, two vols. these are the bibliographical works (which i thought would be acceptable if placed in this list of catalogues) of the illustrious montfauçon; whose publications place him on the summit of antiquarian fame. so much solid sense, careful enquiry, curious research, and not despicable taste, mark his voluminous productions! the bibliographer may rest assured that he will not often be led into confusion or error in the perusal of the above curious and valuable volumes, which have always been considered precious by the philologist.----morelli. _jacobi morellii bibliothecæ regiæ divi marci venetiarum custodis, bibliotheca manuscripta græca et latina._ tom. prim. bassani, vo. morelli was the amiable and profoundly learned librarian of st. mark's at venice; and this catalogue of his greek and latin mss. is given upon the authority of peignot's _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. lix.----museum british. _catalogus librorum manuscript. bibl. cotton._, oxon., , fol. _a catalogue of the manuscripts in the cottonian library_, lond. , vo. _a catalogue of the same_, , fol. _a catalogue of the harleian manuscripts, &c._, lond., , fol., vols. _a catalogue of the same_, lond., , fol., vols. _a catalogue of the mss. of the kings library, &c._, , to. _a catalogue of the mss., &c., hitherto undescribed_, lond., , to., two vols. _catalog. libror. impress., &c._, lond., , folio, vols. these are the published catalogues of the literary treasures, in manuscript and in print, which are contained in the british museum. the _first cottonian_ catalogue has a life of sir robert cotton, and an account of his library prefixed to it. the _second_, by samuel hooper, was intended "to remedy the many defects" in the preceding catalogue, and "the injudicious manner" in which it was compiled; but it is of itself sufficiently confused and imperfect. the _third_, which is the most copious and valuable, with an index (and which has an abridged account of sir robert cotton, and of his library), was drawn up by mr. planta, the principal librarian of the british museum. a great part of the first catalogue of the _harleian mss._ was compiled by the celebrated humphrey wanley, and a most valuable and ably executed publication it is! the _second_ is executed by the rev. r. nares: it contains the preface of the first, with an additional one by himself, and a copious index; rendering this the most complete catalogue of mss. which has ever yet appeared in our own country; although one regrets that its typographical execution should not have kept pace with its intrinsic utility. the two latter catalogues of mss. above described give an account of those which were presented by royal munificence, and collected chiefly by sir hans sloane and dr. birch. the catalogue of (which is now rare) was compiled by david casley: that of , by samuel ascough. of the catalogue of _printed books_, it would be unfair to dwell upon its imperfections, since a new, and greatly enlarged and improved, impression of it is about going to press, under the editorial care and inspection of messrs. h. ellis and baber, the gentlemen to whom the printed books are at present intrusted. mr. douce, who has succeeded mr. nares as head librarian of the mss., is busily employed in examining the multifarious collection of the _lansdowne mss._ (recently purchased by the trustees of the museum), and we may hope that the day is not very far distant when the public are to be congratulated on his minute and masterly analysis of these treasures.----paris. _catalogue de la bibliothéque de m. paris de meyzieux_, paris, , vo. _bibliotheca elegantissima parisina, par m. lourent_, , vo. _the same_: lond., , vo. since the days of gaignat and the duke de la valliere, the longing eyes of bibliographers were never blessed with a sight of more splendid and choice books than were those in the possession of m. paris de meyzieux. the spira virgil of , upon vellum, will alone confer celebrity upon the _first_ catalogue--but what shall we say to the _second_? it consists of only articles, and yet, as is well observed in the preface, it was never equalled for the like number. happy is that noviciate in bibliography who can forget the tedium of a rainy day in sitting by the side of a log-wood fire, and in regaling his luxurious fancy, by perusing the account of "fine, magnificent, matchless, large paper," and "vellum" copies which are thickly studded from one end of this volume to the other. happier far the veteran, who can remember how he braved the _perils of the sale_, in encountering the noble and heavy metalled competitors who flocked, from all parts of the realm, to partake of these _parisian_ spoils! such a one casts an eye upon his well-loaded shelves, and while he sees here and there a yellow morocco aldus, or a russian leather froben, he remembers how bravely he fought for each, and with what success his exertions were crowned! for my own part, gentle reader, i frankly assure thee that--after having seen the "heures de notre dame," written by the famous jarry, and decorated with seven small exquisite paintings of the virgin and christ--and the _aldine petrarch_ and _virgil_ of , all of them executed upon snow-white vellum--after having seen only these books out of the paris collection, i hope to descend to my obscure grave in perfect peace and satisfaction! the reader may smile; but let him turn to nos. , , , of the _bibl. paris_: no. of the _cat. de la valliere_; and _curiositès bibliographiques_, p. . this strain of "ètourderie bibliographique," ought not to make me forget to observe that we are indebted to the enterprising spirit and correct taste of mr. edwards for these, as well as for many other, beautiful books imported from the continent. nor is it yet forgotten that some thorough-bred bibliomaniacs, in their way to the sale, used to call for a glass of ice, to allay the contagious inflammation which might rage in the auction-room. and now take we leave of monsieur paris de meyzieux. peace to the ashes of so renowned a book-chevalier.----petau et mansart. _bibliotheca potavina et mansartiana; ou catalogue des bibliothéques de messrs. alexander petau, et françois mansart; auxquells on a ajouté le cabinet des mss. de justus lipsius._ haye, , vo. a catalogue not very common, and well worth the bibliographer's consultation.----pinelli. _bibliotheca maphæi pinelli veneti, &c. a jacobo morellio._ venetiis, , vols., vo. _bibliotheca pinelliana: a catalogue of the magnificent and celebrated library of maffæi pinelli, late of venice_, &c., london, , vo. there can be no question about the priority, in point both of typographical beauty and intrinsic excellence, of these catalogues; the latter being only a common sale one, with the abridgment of the learned preface of morelli, and of his bibliographical notices. this immense collection (of the ancient owners of which we have a short sketch in morhof, vol. i., pp. , ) was purchased by messrs. edwards and robson: the greek and latin books were sold for _l._, the italian, for _l._--which barely repaid the expenses of purchase, including duties, carriage, and sale. although, as dr. harwood has observed, "there being no dust in venice, this most magnificent library has in general lain reposited for some centuries, in excellent preservation,"--yet the copies were not, upon the whole, in the choicest condition. there are copies of the catalogue of upon large paper. the catalogue of (with an elegant portrait of pinelli prefixed) has, at first sight, the aspect of a work printed in small quarto.----pompadour. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de feue madame la marquise de pompadour, dame du palais de la reine_, paris, , vo. the name of madame de pompadour will be always respected by bibliographers, on account of the taste and judgment which are displayed in this elegant collection. the old popular romances form the leading feature; but there is an ample sprinkling of the belles-lettres and poetry. an animated eulogium is pronounced upon mad. de pompadour by jardé, in his "précis sur les bibliothéques;" prefixed to the last edition of fournier's _dictionnaire portatif de bibliographie_, p. vij.----prÉfond. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de m.d.p. (girardot de préfond) par guillaume f. de bure_, paris, , vo. an excellent collection; not wanting in rare and magnificent productions. the owner of it was distinguished for many solid, as well as splendid, qualifications. only six copies of it were printed upon large paper. see _cat. de gaignat_, vol. ii., no. .----randon de boisset. _catalogue des livres du cabinet de feu m. randon du boisset. par guil. de bure, fils aîné_, paris, , mo. although the generality of catalogue collectors will be satisfied with the usual copy of this well-digested volume, yet i apprehend the curious will not put up with any thing short of a copy of it upon strong writing paper. such a one was in the gouttard collection. see _cat. de gouttard_, no. .----_reimannus._ _j.f. reimanni catalogus bibliothecæ theologicæ systematico-criticus._ hildes. , vo., two vols. _ejusdem accessiones uberiores ad catalogum systematico-criticum, editæ a jo. w. reimannus_, brunsv., , vo. i have before given the character of this work in the introductory part of my "knowledge of the greek and latin classics." every thing commendatory of it may be here repeated.----renati. _bibliothecæ josephi renati imperialis, &c., cardinalis catalogus, &c._ romæ, , fol. this excellent catalogue, which cost the compiler of it, fontanini, nine years of hard labour, is a most useful and valuable one; serving as a model for catalogues of large libraries. see the more minute criticism upon it in _cat. de santander_, no. . my copy, which wants the title-page, but luckily contains the latin preface, was formerly ruddiman's. the volume has pages: this is noticed because all the appendixes and addenda are comprehended in the same.----revickzky. _bibliotheca græca et latina, complectens auctores fere omnes græcia et latii veteris, &c., cum delectu editionum tam primariarum, &c., quam etiam optimarum, splendidissimarum, &c., quas usui meo paravi._ periergus deltophilus (the feigned name for revickzky), berolini, : , vo. it was the delight of count revickzky, the original owner of this collection, to devote his time and attention to the acquisition of scarce, beautiful, and valuable books; and he obtained such fame in this department of literature as to cause him to be ranked with the vallieres, pinellis, and loménies of the day. he compiled, and privately disposed of, the catalogue of his collection, which bears the above title; and to some few of which are prefixed a letter to m. l' a.d. [enini] (member of the french academy) and a preface. _three supplements_ to this catalogue were also, from time to time, circulated by him; so that the purchaser must look sharply after these acquisitions to his copy--as some one or the other of them are generally missing. peignot supposes there are only _two_ supplements. _bibl. curieuse_, p. . when count revickzky came over to england, he made an offer to earl spencer to dispose of the whole collection to his lordship, for a certain "round sum" to be paid immediately into his hands, and to receive, in addition, a yearly sum by way of annuity. so speaks fame. shortly after this contract was closed, the count died; and earl spencer, in consequence, for a comparatively small sum (the result of an immediate and generous compliance with the count's wishes!), came into the possession of a library which, united with his previous magnificent collection, and the successful ardour with which he has since continued the pursuit, places him quite at the head of all the collectors in europe--for early, rare, precious, and beautiful, books. long may he possess such treasures!--and fleeing from the turbulence of politics, and secluded as he is, both in the metropolis and at althorp, from the stunning noise of a city, may he always exclaim, with horace, as the count did before him-- sit mihi, quod nunc est, etiam minus; ut mihi vivam quod superest ævi, si quid superesse volunt dí. sit bona librorum et provisæ frugis in annum copia, ne fluitem dubiæ spe pendulus horæ. _epist. lib._ i.: _epist._ xviii. v., . sir m.m. sykes, bart., has a copy of the edition of [which is in every respect the better one], printed upon fine vellum paper. a similar copy of the edition of is noticed in the _cat. de caillard_,( ) no. . at the sale of m. meon's books, in , a copy of the first edition, charged with ms. notes of the celebrated mercier st. leger, was sold for livres.----rive. _catalogue de la bibliothéque de l'abbé rive, par archard_, marseille, , vo. a catalogue of the books of so sharp-sighted a bibliographer as was the abbé rive cannot fail to be interesting to the collector.----du roi [louis xv.] _catalogus codicum manuscriptorum bibliothecæ regiæ (studio et labore anicetti mellot). paris, e typog. reg._, , folio, four vols.----du roi. _des livres imprimés de la même bibliothéque royale. (disposè par messrs. les abbés sallier et boudot, &c.) paris, de l'imprim. royale_, - , folio, six vols. the most beautiful and carefully executed catalogue in the world: reflecting a truly solid lustre upon the literary reputation of france! the first four volumes, written in latin, comprehend an account of mss.: the six last, written in french, of printed works in theology, jurisprudence, and belles-lettres; the departments of history and the arts and sciences still remaining to be executed. de bure told us, half a century ago, that the "gens de lettres" were working hard at the completion of it; but the then complaints of bibliographers at its imperfect state are even yet continued in fournier's last edition of his _dictionnaire portatif de bibliographie_, p. . so easy it is to talk; so difficult to execute! i believe, however, that m. van-praet, one of the principal librarians, is now putting all engines to work to do away the further disgrace of such unaccountably protracted negligence. my copy of this magnificent set of books is bound in red morocco, gilt leaves, and was a presentation one from the king "au comte de neny, comme une marque de son estime, ." i should add that the first volume of "theology" contains a history of the rise and progress of the royal library, which was reprinted in vo., .----du roi. _notices et extraits des manuscrits de la bibliothéque du roi, paris. de l'imprim. roy._ , to., seven vols. it will be obvious to the candid reader that this work could not be better introduced than in the present place; and a most interesting and valuable one it is! my copy of it, which is only in six volumes [but a seventh is mentioned in _cat. de boutourlin_, no. , and in caillot's _roman bibliographique_, p. ], was purchased by me of mr. evans of pall-mall, who had shewn it to several lovers of bibliography, but none of whom had courage or curiosity enough to become master of the volumes. how i have profited by them, the supplement to my first volume of the "typographical antiquities of great britain," may in part shew. the public shall be made acquainted with still more curious excerpts. in my humble judgment the present work is a model of extraction of the marrow of old mss. it may be worth adding, the plates in the sixth volume are singular, curious and beautiful.----du roi. _accounts and extracts of the manuscripts in the library of the king of france. translated from the french_, london, , vo., two vols. "the french monarch [louis xvi.], in the publication now before us, has set an example to all europe, well worthy to be followed"--says the opening of the translator's preface. the present volumes contain a translation of only twenty-two articles from the preceding work; and very strongly may they be recommended to the curious philologist, as well as to the thorough-bred bibliomaniac.----rÖver. _bibliotheca röveriana, sive catalogus librorum qui studiis inservierunt matthiæ röveri._ lug. bat. , vo., _two parts_. from the elegant and pleasing latin preface to this most carefully compiled catalogue, we learn that the owner of the books lived to his d year--and [what must be a peculiar gratification to bibliomaniacs] that he beat pomponius atticus in the length of time during which he never had occasion to take physic; namely, years! röver's life seemed to glide away in rational tranquillity, and in total seclusion from the world; except that he professed and always shewed the greatest kindness to his numerous, and many of them helpless, relatives--"vix in publicum prodiit, nisi cultus divini externi aut propinquorum caussâ," p. xv. his piety was unshaken. like the venerable jacob bryant, his death was hastened in consequence of a contusion in his leg from a fall in endeavouring to reach a book.----rothelin. _catalogue des livres de feu m'l. abbé d'orleans de rothelin. par g. martin_, paris, , vo. this catalogue of the library of the amiable and learned abbé rothelin, "known (says camus) for his fine taste for beautiful books," is judiciously drawn up by martin, who was the de bure of his day. a portrait of its owner faces the title-page. it was the abbé rothelin who presented de boze with the celebrated '_guirlande de julie_'--a work which afterwards came into the valliere collection, and was sold for , livres,--"the highest price (says peignot) ever given for a modern book." consult his _curiosités bibliographiques_, pp. , ; and _bibl. curieuse_, p. .----sarraz. _bibliotheca sarraziana._ hag. com., , vo. this catalogue, which is frequently referred to by bibliographers, should not escape the collector when he can obtain it for a few shillings. a tolerably good preface or diatribe is prefixed, upon the causes of the rarity of books, but the volume itself is not deserving of all the fine things in commendation of it which are said in the _bibl. reiman_, pt. ii., p. , &c.----sartori. _catalogus bibliographicus librorum latinorum et germanicorum in bibliotheca cæsar. reg. et equestris academiæ theresianæ extantium, cum accessionibus originum typographicarum. vindobonensium, et duobus supplementis necnon, indice triplici, systematico, bibliographico, et typographico; auctore josepho de sartori._ vindobonæ, - , to. vol. i., ii., iii. of this very curious and greatly-to-be-desired catalogue, which is to be completed in eight volumes, it is said that only one hundred copies are struck off. peignot has a long and interesting notice of it in his _bibliographie curieuse_, p. .----schalbruck. _bibliotheca schalbruchiana; sive catalogus exquisitissimorum rarissimorumque librorum, quos collegit joh. theod. schalbruch._ amst. , vo. a very fine collection of rare and curious books. from a priced copy of the catalogue, accidentally seen, i find that some of them produced rather large sums.----schwartz. _catalogus librorum continens codd. mss. et libros sæculo_ xv. _impressos, quos possedit et notis recensuit a.g. schwarzius_, altorf. , vo. the name of schwartz is so respectable in the annals of bibliography that one cannot help giving the present catalogue a place in one's collection. according to _bibl. solger._, vol. iii., no. , a first part (there said to be printed upon large paper) was published in . schwartz's treatise, "_de orig. typog. document. primar._" altorf, , to., should have been noticed at p. , ante.----scriverius. _bibliothecæ scriverianæ catalogus_, amst., , to.--"exquisitissimus est: constat enim selectissimus omnium facultatum et artium autoribus." this is the strong recommendatory language of morhof: _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., .----serna santander. _catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de m.c. de la serna santander; redigé et mis en ordre par lui même; avec des notes bibliographiques et littèraires_, &c. bruxelles, , vo., five volumes. an extensive collection of interesting works; with a sufficiently copious index at the end of the fourth volume. the fifth volume contains a curious disquisition upon the antiquity of signatures, catchwords, and numerals; and is enriched with a number of plates of watermarks of the paper in ancient books. this catalogue, which is rarely seen in our own country, is well worth a place in any library. it is a pity the typographical execution of it is so very indifferent. for the credit of a bibliographical taste, i hope there were a few copies struck off upon large paper.----sion college. _catalogus universalis librorum omnium in bibliotheca collegii sionii apud londinenses_; londini, , to. _ejusdem collegii librorum catalogus, &c., cura reading_, lond., , fol. as the first of these catalogues (of a collection which contains some very curious and generally unknown volumes) was published before the great fire of london happened, there will be found some books in it which were afterwards consumed, and therefore not described in the subsequent impression of . this latter, which tom osborne, the bookseller, would have called a "pompous volume," is absolutely requisite to the bibliographer: but both impressions should be procured, if possible. the folio edition is common and cheap.----smith [consul]. _bibliotheca smithiana, seu catalogus librorum d.j. smithii angli, per cognomina authorum dispositus._ venetiis, , to. _a catalogue of the curious, elegant, and very valuable library of joseph smith, esq., his britannic majesty's consul at venice, lately deceased_, , vo. these are the catalogues of the collections of books occasionally formed at venice, by mr. joseph smith, during his consulship there. the quarto impression contains a description of the books which were purchased "en masse" by his present majesty. it is singularly well executed by paschali, comprehending, by way of an appendix, the prefaces to those volumes in the collection which were printed in the fifteenth century. i possess a brochûre of pages, containing a catalogue of books printed in the fifteenth century, which has consul smith's arms at the beginning, and, at the end, this subscription, "pretiosissima hæc librorum collectio, cujusvis magni principis bibliotheca dignissima, constat voluminibus ccxlviii." the title-page has no date. i suspect it to be the same catalogue of books which is noticed at p. , ante, and which probably the consul bought: forming the greater part of his own library of early printed books. see too the _bibliogr. miscellany_, vol. ii., . the collection of was sold by auction, for mr. robson, by messrs. baker and leigh--and a fine one it was. among these books, the spira virgil of , printed upon vellum, was purchased for _only twenty-five guineas_! excidat ille dies ævo--ne postera credant sæcula--! ----solger. _bibliotheca sive supellex librorum impressorum, &c., et codicum manuscriptorum, quos per plurimos annos collegit, &c., adamus rudolphus solger._ norimb., , vo., three parts or vols. i should almost call this publication "facile princeps catalogorum"--in its way. the bibliographical notices are frequent and full; and saving that the words "rarus, rarior, et rarissimus," are sometimes too profusely bestowed, nothing seems to be wanting to render this a very first rate acquisition to the collector's library. i am indebted to the bibliomanical spirit of honest mr. manson, of gerard-street, the bookseller, for this really useful publication.----soubise. _catalogue des livres imprimés et manuscrits, &c., de feu monseigneur le prince de soubise (par feu le clerc)_, paris, , vo. a short history of this collection will be the best inducement to purchase the present catalogue, whenever it comes in the way of the collector. the foundation of this splendid library was that of the famous de thou's [vide art. thuanus, post], which was purchased by the cardinal de rohan, who added it to his own grand collection--"the fruit of a fine taste and a fine fortune." it continued to be augmented and enriched 'till, and after, it came into the possession of the prince de soubise--the last nobleman of his name--who dying in january, , the entire collection was dispersed by public auction: after it had been offered for the purchase of one or two eminent london booksellers, who have repented, and will repent to their dying day, their declining the offer. this catalogue is most unostentatiously executed upon very indifferent paper; and, while an excellent index enables us to discover any work of which we may be in want, the beautiful copies from this collection which are in the cracherode library in the british museum, give unquestionable proof of the splendour of the books. for the credit of french bibliography, i hope there are some few copies upon large paper.----tellier. _bibliotheca tellereana, sive catalogus librorum bibliotheca caroli mauritii le tellier, archiepiscopi ducis remensis. parisiis, e typographia regia_, , fol. a finely engraved portrait of tellier faces the title-page. this is a handsome volume, containing a numerous and well-chosen collection of books.----thuanus. [de thou] _bibliothecæ thuanæ catalogus_, parisiis, , vo. "three particular reasons," says baillet, "should induce us to get possession of this catalogue; first, the immortal glory acquired by de thou in writing his history, and in forming the most perfect and select library of his age: and secondly, the abundance and excellence of the books herein specified; and, thirdly, the great credit of the bibliographers du puys and quesnel, by whom the catalogue was compiled." _jugemens des savans_, vol. ii., p. , &c. morhof is equally lavish in commendation of this collection. see his _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., , . the books of de thou, whose fame will live as long as a book shall be read, were generally in beautiful condition, with his arms stamped upon the exterior of the binding, which was usually of morocco; and, from some bibliographical work (i think it is santander's catalogue), i learn that this binding cost the worthy president not less than , crowns. de thou's copy of the editio princeps of homer is now in the british museum; having been presented to this national institution by the rev. dr. cyril jackson, who has lately resigned the deanery of christ church college, oxford,--"and who is now wisely gone to enjoy the evening of life in repose, sweetened by the remembrance of having spent the day in useful and strenuous exertion." for an account of the posterior fate of de thou's library, consult the article "soubise," ante. i should add that, according to the _bibl. solgeriana_, vol. iii., p. , no. , there are copies of this catalogue upon large paper.----uffenbach. _catalogus universalis bibliothecæ uffenbachinæ librorum tam typis quam manu exaratorum._ francof. ad moen, , vo., vols. this catalogue is no mean acquisition to the bibliographer's library. it rarely occurs in a perfect and clean condition.----valliere (duc de la). _catalogue des livres provenans de la bibliothéque de m.l.d.d.l.v._, (m. le duc de la valliere) _disposé et mis en ordre par guill. franc. de bure le jeune._ paris, , vo., vols.--_des livres de la même bibliothéque._ paris, , vo.--_des livres et manuscrits de la même bibliothéque_, paris, , vo., vols.--_des livres de la même bibliothéque_, paris, , vols. vo. these twelve volumes of catalogues of this nobleman's library impress us with a grand notion of its extent and value--perhaps never exceeded by that of any private collection! it would seem that the duke de la valliere had two sales of part of his books (of which the two first catalogues are notifications) during his life-time: the two latter catalogues of sales having been put forth after his decease. of these latter (for the former contain nothing remarkable in them, except that there are copies of the first on large paper, in to.), the impression of , which was compiled by van praet and de bure, is the most distinguished for its notices of mss. and early printed books: and in these departments it is truly precious, being enriched with some of the choicest books in the gaignat collection. those printed upon vellum alone would form a little library! of the impression of , which has a portrait of the owner prefixed, there were fifty copies printed upon large paper, in to., to harmonize with the _bibliographie instructive_, and _gaignat's catalogue_. see _bibliographical miscell._, vol. ii., . twelve copies were also printed in royal vo., upon fine stout vellum paper; of which the rt. hon. t. grenville has a beautiful uncut copy in six volumes. see also _cat. de loménie_ [ ], no. . the last publication of was put forth by nyon l'aîné; and although the bibliographical observations are but few in comparison with those in the preceding catalogue, and no index is subjoined, yet it is most carefully executed; and presents us with such a copious collection of french topography, and old french and italian poetry and romances, as never has been, and perhaps never will be, equalled. it contains , articles. the count d'artois purchased this collection "en masse;" and it is now deposited in the "bibliothéque de l'arsenal." see _dictionn. bibliographique_, vol. iv., p. . it was once offered for purchase to a gentleman of this country--highly distinguished for his love of virtû. mr. grenville has also a similar large paper copy of this latter edition, of the date of .----vienna. _codices manuscripti theologici. bibl. palat. vindob. latini aliarumque occidentis linguarum_, vol. i. (in tribus partibus.) _recens._, &c., _michael denis._ vindob. , folio. some mention of this work has been made at page , ante. it may be here necessary to remark that, from the preface, it would appear to contain a ninth additional book to lambecius's well-known commentaries (vide, p. , ante) which kollarius had left unpublished at his death. the preface is well worth perusal, as it evinces the great pains which denis has taken; and the noble, if not matchless, munificence of his patron--"qui præter augustam bibliothecæ fabricam in ipsos libros centenis plura rhenensium expendit millia."--this catalogue is confined to a description of latin, with some few notices of oriental manuscripts; as the preceding work of lambecius and kollarius contained an account of the greek mss. these three parts, forming one volume, are closed by an excellent index. the second volume was published in . upon the whole, it is a noble and highly useful publication; and places its author in the foremost rank of bibliographers.----volpi. _catalogo della libreria de volpi_, &c. _opera di don gaetano volpi._ padova, , vo. the crevenna library was enriched with a great number of valuable books which came from the library of the celebrated vulpii; of which the present is a well-arranged and uncommon catalogue. annexed to it there is an account of the press of the comini, which belonged to the owners of this collection. the reader may consult _bibl. crevenn._, vol. v., pp. - ; and dr. clarke's _bibliogr. miscell._, vol. ii., .----voyage _de deux français dans le nord de l'europe, en - , (par m. de fortia)_ paris, , vo., vols. that the collector of catalogues may not scold me for this apparent deviation from the subject discussed in this note, i must inform him, upon the authority of peignot, that these interesting volumes contain "some account of the most beautiful and curious books contained in the libraries of the north, and in those of italy, spain, holland, &c." _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. lviii.----de witt. _catalogus bibliothecæ joannis de witt_, dordraci, , mo. the preface to this catalogue, (from which an extract was given in the _first_ edition of my "_introduction to the editions of the greek and latin classics_," , vo.,) gives us a pleasing account of an ardent and elegant young man in the pursuit of every thing connected with virtû. de witt seems to have been, in books and statues, &c., what his great ancestor was in politics--"paucis comparandus." a catalogue of the library of a collector of the same name was published at brussels, in , by de vos. see _cat. de santander_, vol. iv., no. .----zurich. _catalogus librorum bibliothecæ tigurinæ._ tiguri, , vo., vols. although the last, this is not the most despicable, catalogue of collections here enumerated. a reading man, who happens to winter in switzerland, may know, upon throwing his eyes over this catalogue, that he can have access to good books at zurich--the native place of many an illustrious author! the following, which had escaped me, may probably be thought worthy of forming an appendix to the preceding note. bern. _cat. codd. mss. bibl. bernensis. cum annotationibus, &c. curante sinner._ bernæ, , vo. a very curious and elegantly printed catalogue with three plates of fac-similes.----parker [abp.] _catalog. libror. mss. in bibl. coll. corporis christi in cantab., quos legavit m. parkerus archiepiscop. cant._ lond., , fol.; _eorundem libror. mss. catalogus. edidit j. nasmith._ cantab., , to. of these catalogues of the curious and valuable mss. which were bequeathed to corpus college (or bennet college, as it is sometimes called) by the immortal archbishop parker, the first is the more elegantly printed, but the latter is the more copious and correct impression. my copy of it has a fac-simile etching prefixed, by tyson, of the rare print of the archbishop, which will be noticed in part v., post.----royal institution. _a catalogue of the library of the royal institution of great britain, &c. by william harris, keeper of the library._ lond., , vo. if a lucid order, minute and correct description of the volumes of an admirably chosen library, accompanied with a copious and faithful alphabetical index, be recommendations with the bibliographer, the present volume will not be found wanting upon his shelf. it is the most useful book of its kind ever published in this country. let the bibliomaniac hasten to seize one of the five remaining copies only (out of the _fifty_ which were printed) upon large paper!----wood (anthony). _a catalogue of antony-a-wood's manuscripts in the ashmolean museum; by w. huddesford_, oxon, , vo. the very name of _old anthony_ (as it delights some facetious book-collectors yet to call him!) will secure respect for this volume. it is not of common occurrence.] [footnote c: in part vi. of this work will be found a list of books printed here. the armorial bearings of lord orford are placed at p. .] lis. you have so thoroughly animated my feelings, and excited my curiosity, in regard to bibliography, that i can no longer dissemble the eagerness which i feel to make myself master of the several books which you have recommended. lysand. alas, your zeal will most egregiously deceive you! _where_ will you look for such books? at what bookseller's shop, or at what auction, are they to be procured? in this country, my friend, few are the private collections, however choice, which contain two third parts of the excellent works before mentioned. patience, vigilance, and personal activity, are your best friends in such a dilemma. lis. but i will no longer attend the sale of malvolio's busts and statues, and gaudy books. i will fly to the strand, or king-street: peradventure-- phil. gently, my good lisardo. a breast thus suddenly changed from the cold of nova zembla to the warmth of the torrid zone requires to be ruled with discretion. and yet, luckily for you-- lis. speak--are you about to announce the sale of some bibliographical works? phil. even so. to morrow, if i mistake not, gonzalvo's choice gems, in this way, are to be disposed of. lis. consider them as my own. nothing shall stay me from the possession of them. lysand. you speak precipitately. are you accustomed to attend book-auctions? lis. no; but i will line my pockets with pistoles, and who dare oppose me? phil. and do you imagine that no one, but yourself, has his pockets "lined with pistoles," on these occasions? lis. it may be so--that other linings are much warmer than my own:--but, at any rate, i will make a glorious struggle, and die with my sword in my hand. phil. this is _book-madness_ with a vengeance! however, we shall see the issue. when and how do you propose going? lis. a chaise shall be at this door by nine in the morning. who will accompany me? lysand. our friend and philemon will prevent your becoming absolutely raving, by joining you. i shall be curious to know the result. lis. never fear. _bibliomania_ is, of all species of insanity, the most rational and praise-worthy. i here solemnly renounce my former opinions, and wish my errors to be forgotten. i here crave pardon of the disturbed manes of the martins, de bures, and patersons, for that flagitious act of _catalogue-burning_; and fondly hope that the unsuspecting age of boyhood will atone for so rash a deed. do you frankly forgive--and will you henceforth consider me as a worth [transcriber's note: worthy] "_aspirant_" in the noble cause of bibliography? lysand. most cordially do i forgive you; and freely admit you into the fraternity of bibliomaniacs. philemon, i trust, will be equally merciful. phil. assuredly, lisardo, you have my entire forgiveness: and i exult a little in the hope that you will prove yourself to be a sincere convert to the cause, by losing no opportunity of enriching your bibliographical stores. already i see you mounted, as a book chevalier, and hurrying from the country to london--from london again to the country--seeking adventures in which your prowess may be displayed--and yielding to no competitor who brandishes a lance of equal weight with your own! lis. 'tis well. at to-morrow's dawn my esquire shall begin to burnish up my armour--and caparison my courser. till then adieu! * * * * * here the conversation, in a connected form, ceased; and it was resolved that philemon and myself should accompany lisardo on the morrow. [illustration] [illustration: fari quÆ sentiat] part iii. =the auction room.= character of orlando. of ancient prices of books, and book-binding. book-auction bibliomaniacs. "as to the late method used in selling books by auction in london, i suppose that many have paid dear for their experience in this way--it being apparent that most books bought in an auction may be had cheaper in booksellers' shops." clavel: _cat. of books for , pref._ [illustration] [illustration] =the auction room.= character of orlando. of ancient prices of books, and book-binding. book auction bibliomaniacs. never, surely, did two mortals set off upon any expedition with greater glee and alacrity than did lisardo and philemon for the sale, by auction, of gonzalvo's bibliographical library. the great pains which lysander had taken in enumerating the various foreign and domestic writers upon bibliography, with his occasionally animated eulogies upon some favourite author had quite inflamed the sanguine mind of lisardo; who had already, in anticipation, fancied himself in possession of every book which he had heard described. like homer's high-bred courser, who --ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost-- our young bibliomaniac began to count up his volumes, arrange his shelves, bespeak his binder, and revel in the luxury of a splendid and nearly matchless collection. the distance from my house to the scene of action being thirteen miles, lisardo, during the first six, had pretty nearly exhausted himself in describing the delightful pictures which his ardent fancy had formed; and finding the conversation beginning to flag, philemon, with his usual good-nature and judgment, promised to make a pleasing digression from the dry subject of book-catalogues, by an episode with which the reader shall be presently gratified. having promised to assist them both, when we arrived at messrs. l. and s., in the strand, with some information relating to the prices of such books as they stood in need of, and to the various book-collectors who attended public sales, lisardo expressed himself highly obliged by the promise; and, sinking quietly into a corner of the chaise, he declared that he was now in a most apt mood to listen attentively to philemon's digressive chat: who accordingly thus began. "lord coke,"--exclaimed philemon, in a mirthful strain--"before he ventured upon '_the jurisdiction of the courts of the forest_,' wished to 'recreate himself' with virgil's description of 'dido's doe of the forest;'[ ] in order that he might 'proceed the more cheerfully' with the task he had undertaken; and thus exchange somewhat of the precise and technical language of the lawyer for that glowing tone of description which woodland scenes and hunting gaieties seldom fail to produce. even so, my good friends (pursued philemon), i shall make a little digression from the confined subject to which our attentions have been so long directed by taking you with me, in imagination, to the delightful abode of orlando." [footnote : the quaint language of lord coke is well worth quotation: "and seeing we are to treat of matters of game, and hunting, let us (to the end we may proceed the more chearfully) recreate ourselves with the excellent description of dido's doe of the forest wounded with a deadly arrow sticken in her, and not impertinent to our purpose: uritur infælix dido, totaque vagatur urbe furens, &c. and in another place, using again the word (sylva) and describing a forest saith: ibat in antiquam sylvam stabula alta ferarum." _institutes_, pt. iv., p. , ed. . thus pleasantly could our sage expounder of the laws of the realm illustrate the dry subject of which he treated!] lis. i have heard of him: a very "_helluo librorum_!" thus we only change sides--from things to men; from books to book-collectors. is this digressive? is this an episode? phil. why this abrupt interruption? if i did not know you and myself, too, lisardo, i should observe an obstinate silence during the remainder of the journey. an episode, though it suspend the main action for a while, partakes of the nature of the subject of the work. it is an _appropriate_ digression. do pray read dr. blair[ ] upon the subject--and now only listen. [footnote : _lecture_ xlii., vol. iii.] orlando (continued philemon) had from his boyhood loved books and book-reading. his fortune was rather limited; but he made shift--after bringing up three children, whom he lost from the ages of nineteen to twenty-four, and which have been recently followed to their graves by the mother that gave them birth--he made shift, notwithstanding the expenses of their college education, and keeping up the reputation of a truly hospitable table, to collect, from year to year, a certain number of volumes, according to a certain sum of money appropriated for the purchase of them; generally making himself master of the principal contents of the first year's purchase, before the ensuing one was placed upon his shelves. he lives in a large ancestral house; and his library is most advantageously situated and delightfully fitted up. disliking such a wintry residence as thomson has described[ ]--although fond of solemn retirement, and of cowper's "boundless contiguity of shade,"--he has suffered the rules of common sense always to mingle themselves in his plans of domestic comfort; and, from the bow-windowed extremity of his library, he sees realized, at the distance of four hundred yards, cæsar's gently-flowing river _arar_,[ ] in a stream which loses itself behind some low shrubs; above which is a softly-undulating hill, covered with hazel, and birch, and oak. to the left is an open country, intersected with meadows and corn fields, and terminated by the blue mountains of malvern at the distance of thirteen miles. yet more to the left, but within one hundred and fifty yards of the house, and forming something of a foreground to the landscape, are a few large and lofty elm trees, under which many a swain has rested from his toil; many a tender vow has been breathed; many a sabbath-afternoon[ ] innocently kept; and many a village-wake cordially celebrated! some of these things yet bless the aged eyes of orlando! [footnote : "in the wild depth of winter, while without the ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat between the groaning forest and the shore, beat by the boundless multitude of waves, a rural, sheltered, solitary scene!"---- _winter._ one would like a situation somewhat more _sheltered_, when "the ceaseless winds blow ice!"] [footnote : "flumen est _arar_, quod per fines Æduorum et sequanorum in rhodanum fluit, incredibili lenitate, ita ut oculis, in utram partem fluat, judicari nos possit." _de bell. gall._, lib. i., § x. philemon might as happily have compared orlando's quiet stream to "the silent river" ----quæ liris quietâ mordet aquâ---- which horace has so exquisitely described, in contrast with ----obliquis laborat lympha fugax trepidare rivo. _carm._, _lib._ i., _od._ xxxi., _lib._ ii., _od._ ii. yet let us not forget collin's lovely little bit of landscape-- "where slowly winds the stealing wave."] [footnote : there is a curious proclamation by q. elizabeth, relating to some sabbath recreations or games, inserted in hearne's preface to his edition of _camden's annals_, p. xxviii. it is a little too long to be given entire; but the reader may here be informed that "shooting with the standard, shooting with the broad arrow, shooting at the twelve score prick, shooting at the turk, leaping for men, running for men, wrestling, throwing the sledge, and pitching the bar," were suffered to be exhibited, on several sundays, for the benefit of one "john seconton powlter, dwelling within the parish of st. clements danes, being a poor man, having four small children, and fallen to decay."] i have slightly noticed the comfortable interior of his library.-- lis. you spoke of a bow-windowed extremity-- phil. yes, in this bow-window--the glass of which was furnished full two hundred and fifty years ago, and which has recently been put into a sensible modern frame-work--thereby affording two hours longer light to the inhabitant--in this bow-window, you will see a great quantity of stained glass of the different arms of his own, and of his wife's, family; with other appropriate embellishments.[ ] and when the evening sun-beams throw a chequered light throughout the room, 'tis pleasant to observe how orlando enjoys the opening of an aldine greek classic--the ample-margined leaves of which receive a mellower tint from the soft lustre that pervades the library. every book, whether opened or closed, is benefited by this due portion of light; so that the eye, in wandering over the numerous shelves, is neither hurt by morning glare nor evening gloom. of colours, in his furniture, he is very sparing: he considers white shelves, picked out with gold, as heretical--mahogany, wainscot, black, and red, are, what he calls, orthodox colours. he has a few busts and vases; and as his room is very lofty, he admits above, in black and gold frames, a few portraits of eminent literary characters; and whenever he gets a genuine vandyke, or velasquez, he congratulates himself exceedingly upon his good fortune. [footnote : the reader, who is partial to the lucubrations of thomas hearne, may peruse a long gossipping note of his upon the importance of _stained glass windows_--in his account of godstow nunnery. see his _guil. neubrig._, vol. ii., .] lis. all this bespeaks a pretty correct taste. but i wish to know something of the man. phil. you shall, presently; and, in hearing what i am about to relate, only let us both strive, good lisardo, so to regulate our studies and feelings that our old age may be like unto orlando's. last year i went with my uncle to pay him our annual visit. he appeared quite altered and shaken from the recent misfortune of losing his wife; who had survived the death of her children fifteen years; herself dying in the sixtieth of her own age. the eyes of orlando were sunk deeply into his forehead, yet they retained their native brilliancy and quickness. his cheeks were wan, and a good deal withered. his step was cautious and infirm. when we were seated in his comfortable library chairs, he extended his right arm towards me, and squeezing my hand cordially within his own--"philemon," said he, "you are not yet thirty, and have therefore sufficient ardour to enable you to gratify your favourite passion for books. did you ever read the inscription over the outside of my library door--which i borrowed from lomeir's account of one over a library at parma?[ ]" on my telling him that it had escaped me--"go," said he, "and not only read, but remember it."--the inscription was as follows: ingredere musis sacer, nam et hic dii habitant. item nullus amicus magis libet, quam liber. [footnote : _de bibliothecis_: p. , edit. .] "have a care," said he, on my resuming my seat--"have a care that you do not treat such a friend ill, or convert him into a foe. for myself, my course is well nigh run. my children have long taken their leave of me, to go to the common parent who created, and to the saviour who has vouchsafed to redeem, us all; and, though the usual order of nature has been here inverted, i bow to the fate which heaven has allotted me with the unqualified resignation of a christian. my wife has also recently left me, for a better place; and i confess that i begin to grow desolate, and anxious to take my departure to join my family. in my solitude, dear philemon, i have found these (pointing to his books) to be what cicero, and seneca, and our own countryman de bury,[ ] have so eloquently and truly described them to be--our friends, our instructors, and our comforts. without any affectation of hard reading, great learning, or wonderful diligence, i think i may venture to say that i have read more valuable books than it falls to the lot of the generality of book-collectors to read; and i would fain believe that i have profited by my studies. although not of the profession of the church, you know that i have always cherished a fondness for sacred literature; and there is hardly a good edition of the greek testament, or a commentator of repute upon the bible, foreign or domestic, but what you will find some reference to the same in my interleaved copy of bishop wilson's edition of the holy scriptures. a great number of these commentators themselves are in my library, as well as every authoritative edition of the greek testament, from the complutensian to griesbach's. yet do not suppose that my theological books are equal in measure to one fourth part of those in the imperial library at paris.[ ] my object has always been instruction and improvement; and when these could be obtained from any writer, whether roman catholic or protestant, arminian or calvinistic, i have not failed to thank him, and to respect him, too, if he has declared his opinions with becoming diffidence and moderation. you know that nothing so sorely grieves me as dogmatical arrogance, in a being who will always be frail and capricious, let him think and act as he please. on a sunday evening i usually devote a few hours to my theological studies--(if you will allow my sabbath-meditations to be so called) and, almost every summer evening in the week, saunter 'midst yon thickets and meadows by the river side, with collins, or thompson, or cowper, in my hand. the beautiful sentiments and grand imagery of walter scott are left to my in-door avocations; because i love to read the curious books to which he refers in his notes, and have always admired, what i find few critics have noticed, how adroitly he has ingrafted fiction upon truth. as i thus perambulate, with my book generally open, the villagers treat me as sir roger de coverley made his tenants treat the spectator--by keeping at a respectful distance--but when i shut up my volume, and direct my steps homewards, i am always sure to find myself, before i reach my threshold, in company with at least half a dozen gossipping and well-meaning rustics. in other departments of reading, history and poetry are my delight. on a rainy or snowy day, when all looks sad and dismal without, my worthy friend and neighbour, phormio, sometimes gives me a call--and we have a rare set-to at my old favourite volumes--the '_lectiones memorabiles et reconditæ_' of wolfius[ ]--a commonplace book of as many curious, extraordinary, true and false occurrences, as ever were introduced into two ponderous folios. the number of strange cuts in it used to amuse my dear children--whose parent, from the remembrance of the past, still finds a pleasing recreation in looking at them. so much, dear philemon, for my desultory mode of studying: improve upon it--but at all events, love your books for the good which they may produce; provided you open them with 'singleness of heart--' that is, a sincerity of feeling. [footnote : every school-lad who has written a copy under a writing-master, or who has looked into the second book of the _"selectæ è profanis scriptoribus," &c._, has probably been made acquainted with the sentiments of the above ancient heathen philosophers relating to learning and books; but may not have been informed of the conciliatory manner in which our countryman de bury has invited us to approach the latter. "hi sunt magistri (says he) qui nos instruunt sine vergis et ferula, sine verbis et colera, sine pane et pecunia. si accedis, non dormiunt; si inquiris, non se abscondunt; non remurmurant, si oberres; cachinnos nesciunt, si ignores." these original and apt words are placed in the title-page to the first volume of _dr. clarke's bibliographical dictionary_.] [footnote : "il y a pieds cubes de livres de théologie,"--"qui tapissent les murs des deux premières salles de la bibliothéque impériale." caillot: _roman bibliographique_, tom. i., , edit. .] [footnote : there are few men, of any literary curiosity, who would not wish to know something of the work here noticed; and much more than appears to be known of its illustrious author; concerning whom we will first discourse a little: "johannes wolfius (says melchoir [transcriber's note: melchior] adam), the laborious compiler of the _lectionum memorabilium et reconditarum centenarii_ xvi. (being a collection of curious pieces from more than authors--chiefly protestant) was a civilian, a soldier, and a statesman. he was born a.d. , at vernac, in the duchy of deux ponts; of which town his father was chief magistrate. he was bred under sturmius at strasbourg, under melancthon at wittemberg, and under cujas at bruges. he travelled much and often; particularly into france and burgundy, with the dukes of stettin, in . he attended the elector palatine, who came with an army to the assistance of the french hugonots in ; and, in , he conducted the corpse of his master back to germany by sea. after this, he was frequently employed in embassies from the electors palatine to england and poland. his last patrons were the marquisses of baden, who made him governor of mündelsheim, and gave him several beneficial grants. in , wolfius bade adieu to business and courts, and retired to hailbrun; where he completed his "_lectiones_," which had been the great employment of his life. he died may , a.d. --the same year in which the above volumes were published." thus far, in part, our biographer, in his _vitæ eruditorum cum germanorum tum exterorum_: pt. iii., p. , edit. . these particulars may be gleaned from wolfius's preface; where he speaks of his literary and diplomatic labours with great interest and propriety. in this preface also is related a curious story of a young man of the name of martin, whom wolfius employed as an amanuensis to transcribe from his "three thousand authors"--and who was at first so zealously attached to the principles of the romish church that he declared "he wished for no heaven where luther might be." the young man died a protestant; quite reconciled to a premature end, and in perfect good will with luther and his doctrine. as to wolfius, it is impossible to read his preface, or to cast a glance upon his works--"magno et pene incredibili labore multisque vigiliis elaboratum"--(as linsius has well said, in the opening of the admonition to the reader, prefixed to his index) without being delighted with his liberality of disposition, and astonished at the immensity of his labour. each volume has upwards of pages closely printed upon an indifferent brown-tinted paper; which serves nevertheless to set off the several hundreds of well executed wood cuts which the work contains. linsius's index, a thin folio, was published in the year : this is absolutely necessary for the completion of a copy. as bibliographers have given but a scanty account of this uncommon work (mentioned, however, very properly by mr. nicol in his interesting preface to the catalogue of the duke of roxburgh's books; and of which i observe in the _bibl. solgeriana_, vol. i., no. , that a second edition, printed in , is held in comparatively little estimation), so biographers (if we except melchior adam, the great favourite of bayle) have been equally silent respecting its author. fabricius, and the historical dictionary published at caen, do not mention him; and moreri has but a meagre and superficial notice of him. wolfius's _penus artis historicæ_, of which the best edition is that of , is well described in the tenth volume of fournier's _methode pour étudier l'histoire_, p. , edit. . my respect for so extraordinary a bibliomaniac as wolfius, who was groping amongst the books of the public libraries belonging to the several great cities which he visited, (in his diplomatic character--vide præf.) whilst his masters and private secretary were probably paying their devotions to bacchus--induces me to treat the reader with the following impression of his portrait. [illustration] this cut is taken from a fac-simile drawing, made by me of the head of wolfius as it appears at the back of the title-page to the preceding work. the original impression is but an indifferent one; but it presents in addition, the body of wolfius as far as the waist; with his right hand clasping a book, and his left the handle of a sword. his ponderous chain has a medallion suspended at the end. this print, which evidently belongs to the english series, has escaped granger. and yet i know not whether such intelligence should be imparted!--as the scissars may hence go to work to deprive many a copy of these "_lectiones_," of their elaborately-ornamented title-pages. forbid it, good sense!] "in a short time," continued the venerable orlando, after a pause of fifteen seconds, "in a short time i must bid adieu to this scene; to my choice copies; beautiful bindings: and all the classical furniture which you behold around you. yes!--as reimannus[ ] has well observed,--'there is no end to accumulating books, whilst the boundaries of human existence are limited, indeed!' but i have made every necessary, and, i hope, appropriate, regulation; the greater part of my library is bequeathed to one of the colleges in the university of oxford; with an injunction to put an inscription over the collection very different from what the famous ranzau[ ] directed to be inscribed over his own.--about three hundred volumes you will find bequeathed to you, dear philemon--accompanied with a few remarks not very different from what lotichius[ ] indited, with his dying breath, in his book-legacy to the learned sambucus. i will, at present, say no more. come and see me whenever you have an opportunity. i exact nothing extraordinary of you; and shall therefore expect nothing beyond what one man of sense and of virtue, in our relative situations, would pay to the other." [footnote : "vita brevis est, et series librorum longa." he adds: "Æs magnum tempus, quo id dispungere conatus est, parvum." _bibl. acroamat._, p. , sign. d [dagger symbol] .] [footnote : "henry de ranzau--avoit dressé une excellente bibliothéque au chateau de bredemberg, dans laquelle estoient conservez plusieurs manuscrits grecs et latins, et autres raretez, &c.--ce sçavant personnage a fait un decret pour sa bibliothéque, qui merite d'estre icy inseré, pour faire voir a la posterité l'affection qu'il auoit pour sa conservation." ... libros partem ne aliquam abstulerit, extraxerit, clepserit, rapserit, concerpserit, coruperit, dolo malo: illico maledictus, perpetuo execrabilis, semper detestabilis esto maneto. jacob: _traicté des bibliothéques_, pp. , . i have inserted only the fulminatory clause of this inscription, as being that part of it against which orlando's indignation seems to be directed.] [footnote : "petrus lotichius johanni sambuco pannonio gravissimo morbo laborans bononiæ, bibliothecam suam legaverit, _lib._ , _eleg._ , verba ejus lectu non injucunda: pro quibus officiis, hæres abeuntis amici, accipe fortunæ munera parva meæ. non mihi sunt baccho colles, oleisque virentes, prædiave Æmiliis conspicienda jugis. tu veterum dulces scriptorum sume libellos, attritos manibus quos juvat esse meis. invenies etiam viridi quæ lusimus ævo, dum studiis ætas mollibus apta fuit. illa velim rapidis sic uras carmina flammis ut vatem ipse suis ignibus jussit amor." lomeier: _de bibliothecis_, p. .] "so spake orlando," said philemon, with tears in his eyes, who, upon looking at lisardo and myself, found our faces covered with our handkerchiefs, and unable to utter a word. the deliberate manner in which this recital was made--the broken periods, and frequent pauses--filled up a great measure of our journey; and we found that st. paul's dome was increasing upon us in size and distinctness, and that we had not more than three miles to travel, when lisardo, wishing to give a different turn to the discourse, asked philemon what was the cause of such extravagant sums being now given at book-sales for certain curious and uncommon--but certainly not highly intrinsically-valuable--publications; and whether our ancestors, in the time of hen. viii. and elizabeth, paid in proportion for the volumes of _their_ libraries? upon philemon's declaring himself unable to gratify his friend's curiosity, but intimating that some assistance might probably be derived from myself, i took up the discourse by observing that-- "in the infancy of printing in this country (owing to the competition of foreigners) it would seem that our own printers (who were both booksellers and book-binders) had suffered considerably in their trade, by being obliged to carry their goods to a market where the generality of purchasers were pleased with more elegantly executed works at an inferior price. the legislature felt, as every patriotic legislature would feel, for their injured countrymen; and, accordingly, the statute of richard iii. was enacted,[ ] whereby english printers and book-binders were protected from the mischiefs, which would otherwise have overtaken them. thus our old friend caxton went to work with greater glee, and mustered up all his energies to bring a good stock of british manufacture to the market. what he usually sold his books for, in his life time, i have not been able to ascertain; but, on his decease, one of his _golden legends_ was valued, in the churchwardens' books, at six shillings and eight pence.[ ] whether this was a great or small sum i know not; but, from the same authority we find that twenty-two pounds were given, twelve years before, for eleven huge folios, called '_antiphoners_.'[ ] in the reign of henry viii. it would seem, from a memorandum in the catalogue of the fletewode library (if i can trust my memory with such minutiæ) that law-books were sold for about ten sheets to the groat.[ ] now, in the present day, law-books--considering the wretched style in which they are published, with broken types upon milk-and-water-tinted paper--are the dearest of all modern publications. whether they were anciently sold for so comparatively extravagant a sum may remain to be proved. certain it is that, before the middle of the sixteenth century, you might have purchased grafton's abridgment of polydore virgil's superficial work about _the invention of things_ for fourteen pence;[ ] and the same printer's book of _common prayer_ for four shillings. yet if you wanted a superbly bound _prymer_, it would have cost you (even five and twenty years before) nearly half a guinea.[ ] nor could you have purchased a decent _ballad_ much under sixpence; and _hall's chronicle_ would have drawn from your purse twelve shillings;[ ] so that, considering the then value of specie, there is not much ground of complaint against the present prices of books." [footnote : by the st of richard iii. ( , ch. ix. sec. xii.) it appeared that, whereas, a great number of the king's subjeets [transcriber's note: subjects] within this realm having "given themselves diligently to learn and exercise the craft of printing, and that at this day there being within this realm a great number cunning and expert in the said science or craft of printing, as able to exercise the said craft in all points as any stranger, in any other realm or country, and a great number of the king's subjects living by the craft and mystery of binding of books, and well expert in the same;"--yet "all this notwithstanding, there are divers persons that bring from beyond the sea great plenty of printed books--not only in the latin tongue, but also in our maternal english tongue--some bound in boards, some in leather, and some in parchment, and them sell by retail, whereby many of the king's subjects, being binders of books, and having no other faculty therewith to get their living, be destitute of work, and like to be undone, except some reformation herein be had,--be it therefore enacted, &c." by the th clause or provision, if any of these printers or sellers of printed books vend them "at too high and unreasonable prices," then the lord chancellor, lord treasurer, or any of the chief justices of the one bench or the other--"by the oaths of twelve honest and discreet persons," were to regulate their prices. this remarkable act was confirmed by the th hen. viii., ch. , which was not repealed till the th geo. ii., ch. , § . a judge would have enough to do to regulate the prices of books, by the oaths of twelve men, in the present times!] [footnote : the reader will be pleased to refer to p. cx. of the first volume of my recent edition of the _typographical antiquities of great britain_.] [footnote : the following is from 'the churchwardens' accompts of st. margaret's, westminster. "a.d. . item, for great books, called antiphoners, _l._ _s._ _d._" _manners and expenses of ancient times in england_, &c., collected by john nichols, , to., p. . _antiphonere_ is a book of anthems to be sung with responses: and, from the following passage in chaucer, it would appear to have been a common school-book used in the times of papacy: this litel childe his litel book lerning, as he sate in the scole at his primere he _alma redemptoris_ herde sing, as children lered hir _antiphonere_: _cant. tales_, v. , , &c. "a legend, an _antiphonarye_, a grayle, a psalter," &c., were the books appointed to be kept in every parish church "of the province of canterbury" by robert winchelsen. _const. provin. and of otho and octhobone_, fol. , rect., edit. .] [footnote : "the year books, v. parcels, as published, impr. in different years by pynson, berthelet, redman, myddylton, powell, smythe, rastell, and tottyl, to ." some of them have the prices printed at the end; as "the prisce of thys boke ys xiid. unbounde--the price of thys boke is xvid. un bownde;" and upon counting the sheets, it appears that the stated price of law-books, in the reign of hen. , was ten sheets for one groat. _bibl. monast-fletewodiana_, no. .] [footnote : in a copy of this book, printed by grafton in , which was in the library of that celebrated bibliomaniac, tom rawlinson, was the following singular ms. note: "at oxforde the yeare , browt down to seynbury by john darbye _pryce_ _d._ when i kepe mr. letymers shype i bout thys boke when the testament was obberagatyd that shepe herdys myght not red hit i pray god amende that blyndnes wryt by robert wyllyams keppynge shepe uppon seynbury hill. ." _camdeni annales: edit. hearne_, vol. i., p. xxx.] [footnote : from mr. nichol's curious work, i make the following further extracts: £ _s._ _d._ a.d. . item, paid for the half part of the bybell, } accordingly after the king's injunction } . item, also paid for six books of the litany } in english } . paid for iv books of the service of the church [this was probably grafton's prayer book of , fol.] . paid for a bybyl and parafrawse [from the ch. wardens accts. of st. margaret's westminster] the inventory of john port, . in the shop. item, a premmer lymmed with gold, and with imagery } written honds } (from the do. of st. mary hill, london.) to william pekerynge, a ballet, called a ryse and } wake } (from the books of the stationers' company). see pp. , , , and , of mr. nichols's work.] [footnote : by the kindness of mr. william hamper, of birmingham (a gentleman with whom my intercourse has as yet been only epistolary, but whom i must be allowed to rank among our present worthy bibliomaniacs), i am in possession of some original entries, which seem to have served as part of a day-book of a printer of the same name: "it having been pasted at the end of '_the poor man's librarie_' printed by john day in ." from this sable-looking document the reader has the following miscellaneous extracts: a.d. . £ _s._ _d._ (two) meserse of bloyene in bordis } one prymare latane & englis } ii balethis (ballads) nova of sortis ii boke of paper quire in forrell vi morse workes in forrell viij castell of love in forrelle wi: a sarmo nova x a.d. . balethis nova arbull in vo. catechis viiij prymare for a chyllde in vo. englis iv halles croneckelle nova englis xii from a household book kept in london, a.d. (in the possession of the same gent.) item, p-d for a lyttellton in english xij_d._ ---- for the booke of ij englishe lovers vj_d._ ---- for the booke of songes and sonnettes } and the booke of dyse, and a frenche booke } ij_s._ viij_d._ (viz. the frenche booke xvj_d._ the ij other bookes at viij_d._ the pece.) ---- ---- for printing the xxv orders of honest men xx_d._] lis. all this is very just. you are now creeping towards the seventeenth century. go on with your prices of books 'till nearly the present day; when the bibliomania has been supposed to have attained its highest pitch. "don't expect," resumed i, "any antiquarian exactness in my chronological detail of what our ancestors used to give for their curiously-covered volumes. i presume that the ancient method of _book-binding_[ ] added much to the expense of the purchase. but be this as it may, we know that sir ralph sadler, at the close of the sixteenth century, had a pretty fair library, with a _bible_ in the chapel to boot, for £ .[ ] towards the close of the seventeenth century, we find the earl of peterborough enlisting among the book champions; and giving, at the sale of richard smith's books in , not less than eighteen shillings and two pence for the first english edition of his beloved _godfrey of boulogne_.[ ] in queen ann's time, earl pembroke and lord oxford spared no expense for books; and dr. mead, who trod closely upon their heels, cared not at what price he purchased his _editiones principes_, and all the grand books which stamped such a value upon his collection. and yet, let us look at the priced catalogue of his library, or at that of his successor dr. askew, and compare the sums _then_ given for those _now_ offered for similar works!" [footnote : as a little essay, and a very curious one too, might be written upon the history of book-binding, i shall not attempt in the present note satisfactorily to supply such a desideratum; but merely communicate to the reader a few particulars which have come across me in my desultory researches upon the subject. mr. astle tells us that the famous _textus sancti cuthberti_, which was written in the th century, and was formerly kept at durham, and is now preserved in the cottonian library, (nero, d. iv.) was adorned in the saxon times by bilfrith, a monk of durham, with a silver cover gilt, and precious stones. simeon dunelmensis, or turgot, as he is frequently called, tells us that the cover of this fine ms. was ornamented "forensecis gemmis et auro." "a booke of gospelles garnished and wrought with antique worke of silver and gilte with an image of the crucifix with mary and john, poiz together cccxxij oz." in the secret jewel house in the tower. "a booke of gold enameled, clasped with a rubie, having on th' one side, a crosse of dyamounts, and vj other dyamounts, and th' other syde a flower de luce of dyamounts, and iiij rubies with a pendaunte of white saphires and the arms of englande. which booke is garnished with small emerades and rubies hanging to a cheyne pillar fashion set with xv knottes, everie one conteyning iij rubies (one lacking)." _archæologia_, vol. xiii., . although mr. astle has not specified the time in which these two latter books were bound, it is probable that they were thus gorgeously attired before the discovery of the art of printing. what the ancient vicars of chalk (in kent) used to pay for binding their missals, according to the original endowment settled by haymo de hethe in (which compelled the vicars to be at the expense of the same--_reg. roff._, p. ), mr. denne has not informed us. _archæologia_, vol. xi., . but it would seem, from warton, that "students and monks were anciently the binders of books;" and from their latin entries respecting the same, the word "conjunctio" appears to have been used for "ligatura." _hist. of engl. poetry_, vol. ii., p. . hearne, in no. iii. of the appendix to _adam de domerham de reb. gest. glast._, has "published a grant from rich. de paston to bromholm abbey, of twelve pence a year rent charge on his estates to _keep their books in repair_." this i gather from gough's _brit. topog._, vol. ii., p. : while from the _liber stat. eccl. paulinæ_, lond. mss., f. , (furnished me by my friend mr. h. ellis,[d] of the british museum), it appears to have been anciently considered as a part of the sacrist's duty to bind and clasp the books: "sacrista curet quod _libri bene ligentur et haspentur_," &c. in chaucer's time, one would think that the fashionable binding for the books of young scholars was _various-coloured velvet_: for thus our poet describes the library of the oxford scholar: a twenty bokes, clothed in black and red of aristotle---- (_prolog. to cant. tales._) we have some account of the style in which chaucer's royal patron, edward iii., used to have his books bound; as the following extract (also furnished me by mr. h. ellis) will testify:----"to alice claver, for the making of xvi laces and xvi tasshels for the garnyshing of diuers of the kings books, ij_s._ viij_d._----and to robert boillet for blac paper and nailles for closing and fastenyng of diuers cofyns of ffyrre wherein the kings boks were conveyed and caried from the kings grete warderobe in london vnto eltham aforesaid, v_d._----piers bauduyn stacioner for bynding gilding and dressing of a booke called titus liuius, xx_s_: for binding gilding and dressing of a booke called ffrossard, xvj_s_: or binding gilding and dressing of a booke called the bible, xvj_s_: for binding gilding and dressing of a booke called le gouuernement of kings and princes, xvj_s._" "for the dressing of ij books whereof oon is called la forteresse de foy and the other called the booke of josephus, iij_s._ iiij_d._ and for binding gilding and dressing of a booke called the bible historial, xx_s._" among the expenses entered in the wardrobe accompts th edw. iii. i suspect that it was not 'till towards the close of the th century, when the sister art of painting directed that of engraving, that books were bound in thick boards, with leather covering upon the same; curiously stamped with arabesque, and other bizarre, ornaments. in the interior of this binding, next to the leaves, there was sometimes an excavation, in which a silver crucifix was safely guarded by a metal door, with clasps. the exterior of the binding had oftentimes large embossed ornaments of silver, and sometimes of precious stones [as a note in the appendix to the _history of leicester_, by mr. nichols, p. , indicates--and as geyler himself, in his _ship of fools_, entitled "_navicula, sive speculum fatuorum_," edit. , to., thus expressly declares:--"sunt qui libros inaurunt et serica tegimenta apponunt preciosa et superba," sign. b. v. rev.], as well as the usual ornaments upon the leather; and two massive clasps, with thick metalled corners on each of the outward sides of the binding, seemed to render a book impervious to such depredations of time as could arise from external injury. meantime, however the worm was secretly engendered within the wood: and his perforating ravages in the precious leaves of the volume gave dreadful proof of the defectiveness of ancient binding, beautiful and bold as it undoubtedly was! the reader is referred to an account of a preciously bound diminutive godly book (once belonging to q. elizabeth), in the first volume of my edition of the british _typographical antiquities_, p. ; for which i understand the present owner asks the sum of _l._ we find that in the sixteenth year of elizabeth's reign, she was in possession of "oone gospell booke covered with tissue and garnished on th' onside with the crucifix and the queene's badges of silver guilt, poiz with wodde, leaves, and all, czij. oz." _archæologia_, vol. xiii., . i am in possession of the covers of a book, bound (a.d. ) in thick parchment or vellum, which has the whole length portrait of luther on one side, and of calvin on the other. these portraits, which are executed with uncommon spirit and accuracy, are encircled with a profusion of ornamental borders of the most exquisite taste and richness. we shall speak occasionally of more modern book-binding as we proceed. meanwhile, let the curious bibliomaniac glance his eye upon the copper-plate print which faces this concluding sentence--where he will see fac-similes of the portraits just mentioned.] [footnote : see the recent very beautiful edition of sir ralph sadler's _state papers_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : see the _catalogue of r. smith's books_, , to., p. (falsely numbered ), no. .] [footnote d: since created a knight.] lis. you allude to a late sale in pall mall, of one of the choicest and most elegant libraries ever collected by a man of letters and taste? "i do, lisardo--but see we are just entering the smoke and bustle of london; and in ten minutes shall have reached the scene of action." phil. how do you feel? lis. why, tolerably calm. my pulse beats as leisurely as did my lord strafford's at his trial--or (to borrow hamlet's phrase) --as yours, it doth temperately keep time, and makes as healthful music. phil. ninety-five to the minute! you are just now in a fit frame of mind to write a political pamphlet. pray consider what will be the issue of this madness? lis. no more! now for my catalogue; and let me attend to my marks. but our friend is not forgetful of his promise? phil. i dare say he will assist us in regulating the prices we ought to give--and more particularly in making us acquainted with the most notable book-collectors. upon my readily acquiescing in their demand, we leapt from the chaise (giving orders for it to attend by three o'clock) and hurried immediately up stairs into the auction room. the clock had struck twelve, and in half an hour the sale was to begin. not more than nine or ten gentlemen were strolling about the room: some examining the volumes which were to be sold, and making hieroglyphical marks thereupon, in their catalogues: some giving commissions to the clerk who entered their names, with the sums they intended staking, in a manner equally hieroglyphical. others, again, seemed to be casting an eye of vacancy over the whole collection; or waiting till a book friend arrived with whom they might enter into a little chat. you observe, my friends, said i, softly, yonder active and keen-visaged gentleman? 'tis lepidus. like magliabechi, content with frugal fare and frugal clothing[ ] and preferring the riches of a library to those of house-furniture, he is insatiable in his bibliomaniacal appetites. "long experience has made him sage:" and it is not therefore without just reason that his opinions are courted, and considered as almost oracular. you will find that he will take his old station, commanding the right or left wing of the auctioneer; and that he will enliven, by the gaiety and shrewdness of his remarks, the circle that more immediately surrounds him. some there are who will not bid 'till lepidus bids; and who surrender all discretion and opinion of their own to his universal book-knowledge. the consequence is that lepidus can, with difficulty, make purchases for his own library; and a thousand dexterous and happy manoeuvres are of necessity obliged to be practised by him, whenever a rare or curious book turns up. how many fine collections has this sagacious bibliomaniac seen disposed of! like nestor, who preaches about the fine fellows he remembered in his youth, lepidus (although barely yet in his grand climacteric!) will depicture, with moving eloquence, the numerous precious volumes of far-famed collectors, which he has seen, like macbeth's witches, "come like shadows, so depart!" [footnote : tenni cultu, victuque contentus, quidquid ei pecuniæ superaret in omnigenæ eruditionis libros comparandos erogabat, selectissimamque voluminum multitudinem ea mente adquisivit, ut aliquando posset publicæ utilitati--dicari, _præf. bibl. magliab. a fossio_, p. x.] and when any particular class of books, now highly coveted, but formerly little esteemed, comes under the hammer, and produces a large sum,--ah then! 'tis pleasant to hear lepidus exclaim-- o mihi præteritos referat si jupiter annos! justly respectable as are his scholarship and good sense, he is not what you may call a _fashionable_ collector; for old chronicles and romances are most rigidly discarded from his library. talk to him of hoffmen, schoettgenius, rosenmuller, and michaelis, and he will listen courteously to your conversation; but when you expatiate, however learnedly and rapturously, upon froissart and prince arthur, he will tell you that he has a heart of stone upon the subject; and that even a clean uncut copy of an original impression of each, by verard or by caxton, would not bring a single tear of sympathetic transport in his eyes. lis. i will not fail to pay due attention to so extraordinary and interesting a character--for see, he is going to take his distinguished station in the approaching contest. the hammer of the worthy auctioneer, which i suppose is of as much importance as was sir fopling's periwig of old,[ ] upon the stage--the hammer is upon the desk!--the company begin to increase and close their ranks; and the din of battle will shortly be heard. let us keep these seats. now, tell me who is yonder strange looking gentleman? [footnote : see warburton's piquant note, in mr. bowles's edition of _pope's works_, vol. v., p. . "this remarkable _periwiy_ [transcriber's note: periwig] (says he) usually made its entrance upon the stage in a sedan chair, brought in by two chairmen with infinite approbation of the audience." the _snuff-box_ of mr. l. has not a less imposing air; and when a high-priced book is balancing between _l._ and _l._ it is a fearful signal of its reaching an additional sum, if mr. l. should lay down his hammer, and delve into this said crumple-horned snuff-box!] "'tis mustapha, a vender of books. consuetudine invalescens, ac veluti callum diuturna cogitatione obducens,[ ] he comes forth, like an alchemist from his laboratory, with hat and wig 'sprinkled with learned dust,' and deals out his censures with as little ceremony as correctness. it is of no consequence to him by whom positions are advanced, or truth is established; and he hesitates very little about calling baron heinecken a tom fool, or ---- a shameless impostor. if your library were as choice and elegant as dr. h----'s he would tell you that his own disordered shelves and badly coated books presented an infinitely more precious collection; nor must you be at all surprised at this--for, like braithwait's upotomis, 'though weak in judgment, in opinion strong;' or, like the same author's meilixos, 'who deems all wisdom treasur'd in his pate,' our book-vender, in the catalogues which he puts forth, shews himself to be 'a great and bold carpenter of words;'[ ] overcharging the description of his own volumes with tropes, metaphors, flourishes, and common-place authorities; the latter of which one would think had but recently come under his notice, as they had been already before the public in various less ostentatious forms." [footnote : the curious reader may see the entire caustic passage in spizelius's _infelix literatus_, p. .] [footnote : _coryat's crudities_, vol. i., sign. (b. .) edit. .] phil. are you then an enemy to booksellers, or to their catalogues when interlaced with bibliographical notices? "by no means, philemon. i think as highly of our own as did the author of the aprosian library[ ] of the dutch booksellers; and i love to hear that the bibliographical labour bestowed upon a catalogue has answered the end proposed, by sharpening the appetites of purchasers. but the present is a different case. mustapha might have learnt good sense and good manners, from his right hand, or left hand, or opposite, neighbour; but he is either too conceited, or too obstinate, to have recourse to such aid. what is very remarkable, although he is constantly declaiming against the enormous sums of money given for books at public auctions, mustapha doth not scruple to push the purchaser to the last farthing of his commission; from a ready knack which he hath acquired, by means of some magical art in his foresaid laboratory, of deciphering the same; thus adopting in a most extraordinary manner, the very line of conduct himself which he so tartly censures in others." [footnote : see pages - , of wolfius's edition of the _bibliotheca aprosiana_, , vo. it is not because mr. ford, of manchester, has been kind enough to present me with one of the _six_ copies of his last catalogue of books, printed upon strong writing paper--that i take this opportunity of praising the contents of it,--but that his catalogues are to be praised for the pains which he exhibits in describing his books, and in referring to numerous bibliographical authorities in the description. while upon this subject, let me recommend the youthful bibliomaniac to get possession of mr. edwards's catalogues, and especially of that of . if such a catalogue were but recently published, it would be one of the pleasantest breakfast lounges imaginable to _tick off_ a few of the volumes with the hope of possessing them at the prices therein afixed.] phil. was this the gentleman whose catalogue (as you shewed me) contained the fascinating colophon of juliana berner's book of hawking, hunting, and heraldry, printed in the year , subjoined to a copy of the common reprint of it by gervase markham--thereby provoking a thousand inquiries after the book, as if it had been the first edition? "the same," resumed i. "but let us leave such ridiculous vanity." lis. who is that gentleman, standing towards the right of the auctioneer, and looking so intently upon his catalogue? "you point to my friend bernardo. he is thus anxious, because an original fragment of the fair lady's work, which you have just mentioned, is coming under the hammer; and powerful indeed must be the object to draw his attention another way. the demure prioress of sopewell abbey is his ancient sweetheart; and he is about introducing her to his friends, by a union with her as close and as honourable as that of wedlock. engaged in a laborious profession (the duties of which are faithfully performed by him) bernardo devotes his few leisure hours to the investigation of old works; thinking with the ancient poet, quoted by ashmole, that '----out of old fields as men saythe cometh all this new corne fro yeare to yeare; and out of olde bokes in good faythe cometh all this scyence that men leare:' or, with ashmole himself; that 'old words have strong emphasis: others may look upon them as rubbish or trifles, but they are grossly mistaken: for what some light brains may esteem as foolish toys, deeper judgments can and will value as sound and serious matter.[ ]' [footnote : _theatrum chemicum_: proleg. sign. a. . rev.: b. . rect. the charms of ancient phraseology had been before not less eloquently described by wolfius: "habet hoc jucundi priscorum quorundam obsoleta dictio, ac suo quodam modo rudius comta oratio, ut ex ea plus intelligamus quam dicitur; plus significetur quam effertur." _lect. memorab. epist. ded._ fol. xiv. rev. of wolfius, and of this his work, the reader will find some mention at page , ante.] "if you ask me whether bernardo be always successful in his labours, i should answer you, as i have told him, no: for the profit and applause attendant upon them are not commensurate with his exertions. moreover, i do verily think that, in some few instances, he sacrifices his judgment to another's whim; by a reluctance to put out the strength of his own powers. he is also, i had almost said, the admiring slave of ritsonian fastidiousness; and will cry 'pish' if a _u_ be put for a _v_, or a _single e_ for a _double one_: but take him fairly as he is, and place him firmly in the bibliographical scale, and you will acknowledge that his weight is far from being inconsiderable. he is a respectable, and every way a praise-worthy man: and although he is continually walking in a thick forest of black letter, and would prefer a book printed before the year , to a turtle dressed according to the rules of mr. farley, yet he can ever and anon sally forth to enjoy a stroll along the river side, with isaac walton[ ] in his hand; when 'he hath his wholesome walk and merry, at his ease: a sweet air of the sweet savour of the mead flowers, that maketh him hungry.'[ ] [footnote : "let me take this opportunity of recommending the amiable and venerable isaac walton's _complete angler_: a work the most singular of its kind, breathing the very spirit of contentment, of quiet, and unaffected philanthrophy, and interspersed with some beautiful relics of poetry, old songs, and ballads." so speaks the rev. w. lisle bowles, in his edition of _pope's works_, vol i., p. . to which i add--let me take this opportunity of recommending mr. bagster's very beautiful and creditable reprint of sir john hawkin's edition of walton's amusing little book. the plates in it are as true as they are brilliant: and the bibliomaniac may gratify his appetite, however voracious, by having copies of it upon paper of all sizes. mr. bagster has also very recently published an exquisite facsimile of the original edition of old isaac. perhaps i ought not to call it a fac-simile, for it is, in many respects, more beautifully executed.] [footnote : the reader may see all this, and much more, dressed in its ancient orthographic garb, in a proheme to the first edition of the merry art of fishing, extracted by herbert in his first volume, p. . i have said the "_merry_," and not the "_contemplative_," art of fishing--because we are informed that "yf the angler take fyshe, surely thenne is there noo man _merier_ than he is in his spyryte!!" yet isaac walton called this art, "the _contemplative_ man's recreation." but a _book-fisherman_, like myself, must not presume to reconcile such great and contradictory authorities.] "but see--the hammer is vibrating, at an angle of twenty-two and a half, over a large paper priced catalogue of major pearson's books!--who is the lucky purchaser? "quisquilius:--a victim to the bibliomania. if one single copy of a work happen to be printed in a more particular manner than another; and if the compositor (clever rogue) happen to have transposed or inverted a whole sentence or page; if a plate or two, no matter of what kind or how executed; go along with it, which is not to be found in the remaining copies; if the paper happen to be _unique_ in point of size--whether maxima or minima--oh, then, thrice happy is quisquilius! with a well-furnished purse, the strings of which are liberally loosened, he devotes no small portion of wealth to the accumulation of _prints_; and can justly boast of a collection of which few of his contemporaries are possessed. but his walk in book-collecting is rather limited. he seldom rambles into the luxuriancy of old english black-letter literature; and cares still less for a _variorum_ latin classic, stamped in the neat mintage of the elzevir press. of a greek _aldus_, or an italian _giunta_, he has never yet had the luxury to dream:--'trahit sua quemque voluptas;' and let quisquilius enjoy his hobby-horse, even to the riding of it to death! but let him not harbour malevolence against supposed injuries inflicted: let not foolish prejudices, or unmanly suspicions, rankle in his breast: authors and book-collectors are sometimes as enlightened as himself, and have cultivated pursuits equally honourable. their profession, too, may sometimes be equally beneficial to their fellow creatures. a few short years shall pass away, and it will be seen who has contributed the more effectively to the public stock of amusement and instruction. we wrap ourselves up in our own little vanities and weaknesses, and, fancying wealth and wisdom to be synonymous, vent our spleen against those who are resolutely striving, under the pressure of mediocrity and domestic misfortune, to obtain an honourable subsistence by their intellectual exertions." lis. a truce to this moralizing strain. pass we on to a short gentleman, busily engaged yonder in looking at a number of volumes, and occasionally conversing with two or three gentlemen from five to ten inches taller than himself. what is his name? "rosicrusius is his name; and an ardent and indefatigable book-forager he is. although just now busily engaged in antiquarian researches relating to british typography, he fancies himself nevertheless deeply interested in the discovery of every ancient book printed abroad. examine his little collection of books, and you will find that 'there caxton sleeps, with wynkyn at his side, one clasp'd in wood, and one in strong cow-hide!'[ ] --and yet, a beautiful volume printed at 'basil or heidelberg makes him spinne: and at seeing the word frankford or venice, though but on the title of a booke, he is readie to break doublet, cracke elbows, and over-flowe the room with his murmure.'[ ] bibliography is his darling delight--'una voluptas et meditatio assidua;'[ ] and in defence of the same he would quote you a score of old-fashioned authors, from gesner to harles, whose very names would excite scepticism about their existence. he is the author of various works, chiefly bibliographical; upon which the voice of the public (if we except a little wicked quizzing at his _black-letter_ propensities in a celebrated north briton review) has been generally favourable. although the old maidenish particularity of tom hearne's genius be not much calculated to please a bibliomaniac of lively parts, yet rosicrusius seems absolutely enamoured of that ancient wight; and to be in possession of the cream of all his pieces, if we may judge from what he has already published, and promises to publish, concerning the same. he once had the temerity to dabble in poetry;[ ] but he never could raise his head above the mists which infest the swampy ground at the foot of parnassus. still he loves 'the divine art' enthusiastically; and affects, forsooth, to have a taste in matters of engraving and painting! converse with him about guercino and albert durer, berghem and woollett, and tell him that you wish to have his opinion about the erection of a large library, and he will 'give tongue' to you from rise to set of sun. wishing him prosperity in his projected works, and all good fellows to be his friends, proceed we in our descriptive survey." [footnote : pope's _dunciad_, b. i. v. .] [footnote : _coryat's crudities_, vol. i., sign. (b. .) edit. .] [footnote : vita jacobi le long., p. xx., _biblioth. sacra_, edit. .] [footnote : see the note p. , in the first edition of the _bibliomania_.] lis. i am quite impatient to see atticus in this glorious group; of whom fame makes such loud report-- "yonder see he comes, lisardo! 'like arrow from the hunter's bow,' he darts into the hottest of the fight, and beats down all opposition. in vain boscardo advances with his heavy artillery, sending forth occasionally a forty-eight pounder; in vain he shifts his mode of attack--now with dagger, and now with broadsword, now in plated, and now in quilted armour: nought avails him. in every shape and at every onset he is discomfited. such a champion as atticus has perhaps never before appeared within the arena of book-gladiators: 'blest with talents, wealth, and taste;'[ ] and gifted with no common powers of general scholarship, he can easily master a knotty passage in eschylus or aristotle; and quote juvenal and horace as readily as the junior lads at eton quote their '_as in præsenti_:' moreover, he can enter, with equal ardour, into a minute discussion about the romance literature of the middle ages, and the dry though useful philology of the german school during the th and th centuries. in the pursuit after rare, curious, and valuable books, nothing daunts or depresses him. with a mental and bodily constitution such as few possess, and with a perpetual succession of new objects rising up before him, he seems hardly ever conscious of the vicissitudes of the seasons, and equally indifferent to petty changes in politics. the cutting blasts of siberia, or the fainting heat of a maltese sirocco, would not make him halt, or divert his course, in the pursuit of a favourite volume, whether in the greek, latin, spanish, or italian language. but as all human efforts, however powerful, if carried on without intermission, must have a period of cessation; and as the most active body cannot be at 'thebes and at athens' at the same moment; so it follows that atticus cannot be at every auction and carry away every prize. his rivals narrowly watch, and his enemies closely way-lay, him; and his victories are rarely bloodless in consequence. if, like darwin's whale, which swallows 'millions at a gulp,' atticus should, at one auction, purchase from two to seven hundred volumes, he must retire, like the '_boa constrictor_,' for digestion: and accordingly he does, for a short season, withdraw himself from 'the busy hum' of sale rooms, to collate, methodize, and class his newly acquired treasures--to repair what is defective, and to beautify what is deformed. thus rendering them 'companions meet' for their brethren in the rural shades of h---- hall; where, in gay succession, stands many a row, heavily laden with 'rich and rare' productions. in this rural retreat, or academic bower, atticus spends a due portion of the autumnal season of the year; now that the busy scenes of book-auctions in the metropolis have changed their character--and dreary silence, and stagnant dirt, have succeeded to noise and flying particles of learned dust. [footnote : dr. ferriar's _bibliomania_, v. .] "here, in his ancestral abode, atticus can happily exchange the microscopic investigation of books for the charms and manly exercises of a rural life; eclipsing, in this particular, the celebrity of cæsar antoninus; who had not universality of talent sufficient to unite the love of hawking and hunting with the passion for book-collecting.[ ] the sky is no sooner dappled o'er with the first morning sun-beams, than up starts our distinguished bibliomaniac, either to shoot or to hunt; either to realize all the fine things which pope has written about 'lifting the tube, and levelling the eye;'[ ] or to join the jolly troop while they chant the hunting song of his poetical friend.[ ] meanwhile, his house is not wanting in needful garniture to render a country residence most congenial. his cellars below vie with his library above. besides 'the brown october'--'drawn from his dark retreat of thirty years'--and the potent comforts of every species of 'barley broth'--there are the ruddier and more sparkling juices of the grape--'fresh of colour, and of look lovely, smiling to the eyz of many'--as master laneham hath it in his celebrated letter.[ ] i shall leave you to finish the picture, which such a sketch may suggest, by referring you to your favourite, thomson."[ ] [footnote : this anecdote is given on the authority of kesner's [transcriber's note: gesner's] _pandects_, fol. : rect. '[greek: alloi men hippôn] (says the grave antoninus) [greek: alloi de orneôn, alloi thêriôn ebôsin: emoi de bibliôn ktêseôs ek paidoiriou deinos entetêke pothos].'] [footnote : see pope's _windsor forest_, ver. to .] [footnote : waken lords and ladies gay; on the mountain dawns the day. all the jolly chase is here, with hawk and horse and hunting spear: hounds are in their couples yelling, hawks are whistling, horns are knelling; merrily, merrily, mingle they. "waken lords and ladies gay." waken lords and ladies gay, the mist has left the mountain grey. springlets in the dawn are steaming, diamonds on the lake are gleaming; and foresters have busy been, to track the buck in thicket green: now we come to chaunt our lay, "waken lords and ladies gay." hunting song, by walter scott: the remaining stanzas will be found in the _edinb. annual register_, vol. i., pt. ii., xxviii.] [footnote : "_whearin part of the entertainment untoo the queenz majesty of killingworth castl in warwick sheer, &c., , is signified._" edit. , p. .] [footnote : _autumn_, v. , , &c.] lis. your account of so extraordinary a bibliomaniac is quite amusing: but i suspect you exaggerate a little. "nay, lisardo, i speak nothing but the truth. in book-reputation, atticus unites all the activity of de witt and lomanie, with the retentiveness of magliabechi and the learning of le long.[ ] and yet--he has his peccant part." [footnote : the reader will be pleased to turn for one minute to pages , , , ante.] lis. speak, i am anxious to know. "yes, lisardo; although what leichius hath said of the library attached to the senate-house of leipsic be justly applicable to his own extraordinary collection[ ]--yet atticus doth sometimes sadly err. he has now and then an ungovernable passion to possess more copies of a book than there were ever parties to a deed, or stamina to a plant: and therefore i cannot call him a duplicate or triplicate collector. his best friends scold--his most respectable rivals censure--and a whole 'mob of gentlemen' who think to collect 'with ease,' threaten vengeance against--him, for this despotic spirit which he evinces; and which i fear nothing can stay or modify but an act of parliament that no gentleman shall purchase more than two copies of a work; one for his town, the other for his country, residence." [footnote : singularis eius ac propensi, in iuvandam eruditionem studii insigne imprimis monumentum exstat, bibliotheca instructissima, sacrarium bonæ menti dicatum, in quo omne, quod transmitti ad posteritatem meretur, copiose reconditum est. _e [transcriber's note: de] orig. et increment. typog. lipsiens. lips. an. typog._ sec. iii., sign. .] phil. but does he atone for his sad error by being liberal in the loan of his volumes? "most completely so, philemon. this is the 'pars melior' of every book collector, and it is indeed the better part with atticus. the learned and curious, whether rich or poor, have always free access to his library-- his volumes, open as his heart, delight, amusement, science, art, to every ear and eye impart. his books, therefore, are not a stagnant reservoir of unprofitable water, as are those of pontevallo's; but like a thousand rills, which run down from the lake on snowdon's summit, after a plentiful fall of rain, they serve to fertilize and adorn every thing to which they extend. in consequence, he sees himself reflected in a thousand mirrors: and has a right to be vain of the numerous dedications to him, and of the richly ornamented robes in which he is attired by his grateful friends." lis. long life to atticus, and to all such book heroes! now pray inform me who is yonder gentleman, of majestic mien and shape?--and who strikes a stranger with as much interest as agamemnon did priam--when the grecian troops passed at a distance in order of review, while the trojan monarch and helen were gossipping with each other on the battlements of troy! "that gentleman, lisardo, is hortensius; who, you see is in close conversation with an intimate friend and fellow-bibliomaniac--that ycleped is ulpian. they are both honourable members of an honourable profession; and although they have formerly sworn to purchase no old book but machlinia's first edition of littleton's tenures, yet they cannot resist, now and then, the delicious impulse of becoming masters of a black-letter chronicle or romance. taste and talent of various kind they both possess; and 'tis truly pleasant to see gentlemen and scholars, engaged in a laborious profession, in which, comparatively, 'little vegetation quickens, and few salutary plants take root,' finding 'a pleasant grove for their wits to walk in' amidst rows of beautifully bound, and intrinsically precious, volumes. they feel it delectable, 'from the loop-holes of such a retreat,' to peep at the multifarious pursuits of their brethren; and while they discover some busied in a perversion of book-taste, and others preferring the short-lived pleasures of sensual gratifications--which must 'not be named' among good bibliomaniacs--they can sit comfortably by their fire-sides; and, pointing to a well-furnished library, say to their wives--who heartily sympathize in the sentiment-- this gives us health, or adds to life a day!"[ ] [footnote : braithwaite's _arcadian princesse_: lib. , p. , edit. . the two immediately following verses, which are worthy of dryden, may quietly creep in here: or helps decayed beauty, or repairs our chop-fall'n cheeks, or winter-molted hairs.] lis. when i come to town to settle, pray introduce me to these amiable and sensible bibliomaniacs. now gratify a curiosity that i feel to know the name and character of yonder respectably-looking gentleman, in the dress of the old school, who is speaking in so gracious a manner to bernardo? "'tis leontes: a man of taste, and an accomplished antiquary. even yet he continues to gratify his favourite passion for book and print-collecting; although his library is at once choice and copious, and his collection of prints exquisitely fine. he yet enjoys, in the evening of life, all that unruffled temper and gentlemanly address which delighted so much in his younger days, and which will always render him, in his latter years, equally interesting and admired. like atticus, he is liberal in the loan of his treasures; and, as with him, so 'tis with leontes--the spirit of book-collecting 'assumes the dignity of a virtue.'[ ] peace and comfort be the attendant spirits of leontes, through life, and in death: the happiness of a better world await him beyond the grave! his memory will always be held in reverence by honest bibliomaniacs; and a due sense of his kindness towards myself shall constantly be impressed upon me-- dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regret artus." [footnote : _edinburgh review_, vol. xiii., p. .] phil. amen. with leontes i suppose you close your account of the most notorious bibliomaniacs who generally attend book sales in person; for i observe no other person who mingles with those already described--unless indeed, three very active young ones, who occasionally converse with each other, and now and then have their names affixed to some very expensive purchases-- "they are the three mercurii, oftentimes deputed by distinguished bibliomaniacs: who, fearful of the sharp-shooting powers of their adversaries, if they _themselves_ should appear in the ranks, like prudent generals, keep aloof. but their aides-de-camp are not always successful in their missions; for such is the obstinacy with which book-battles are now contested, that it requires three times the number of guns and weight of metal to accomplish a particular object to what it did when john duke of marlborough wore his full-bottomed periwig at the battle of blenheim. "others there are, again, who employ these mercurii from their own inability to attend in person, owing to distance, want of time, and other similar causes. hence, many a desperate bibliomaniac keeps in the back-ground; while the public are wholly unacquainted with his curious and rapidly-increasing treasures. hence sir tristram, embosomed in his forest-retreat, --down the steepy linn that hems his little garden in, is constantly increasing his stores of tales of genii, fairies, fays, ghosts, hobgoblins, magicians, highwaymen, and desperadoes--and equally acceptable to him is a copy of castalio's elegant version of homer, and of st. dunstan's book '_de occulta philosophia_;' concerning which lattter [transcriber's note: latter], elias ashmole is vehement in commendation.[ ] from all these (after melting them down in his own unparalleled poetical crucible--which hath charms as potent as the witches' cauldron in macbeth) he gives the world many a wondrous-sweet song. who that has read the exquisite poems, of the fame of which all britain 'rings from side to side,' shall deny to such ancient legends a power to charm and instruct? or who, that possesses a copy of prospero's excellent volumes, although composed in a different strain (yet still more fruitful in ancient matters), shall not love the memory and exalt the renown of such transcendent bibliomaniacs? the library of prospero is indeed acknowledged to be without a rival in its way. how pleasant it is, dear philemon, only to contemplate such a goodly prospect of elegantly bound volumes of old english and french literature!--and to think of the matchless stores which they contain, relating to our ancient popular tales and romantic legends! [footnote : he who shall have the happiness to meet with st. dunstan's worke "_de occulta philosophia_," may therein reade such stories as will make him amaz'd, &c. prolegom. to his _theatrum chemicum_, sign a., . rev.] "allied to this library, in the general complexion of its literary treasures, is that of marcellus: while in the possession of numberless rare and precious volumes relating to the drama, and especially to his beloved shakespeare, it must be acknowledged that marcellus hath somewhat the superiority. meritorious as have been his labours in the illustration of our immortal bard, he is yet as zealous, vigilant, and anxious, as ever, to accumulate every thing which may tend to the further illustration of him. enter his book-cabinet; and with the sight of how many _unique_ pieces and tracts are your ardent eyes blessed! just so it is with aurelius! he also, with the three last mentioned bibliomaniacs, keeps up a constant fire at book auctions; although he is not personally seen in securing the spoils which he makes. unparalleled as an antiquary in caledonian history and poetry, and passionately attached to every thing connected with the fate of the lamented mary, as well as with that of the great poetical contemporaries, spenser and shakespeare, aurelius is indefatigable in the pursuit of such ancient lore as may add value to the stores, however precious, which he possesses. his _noctes atticæ_, devoted to the elucidation of the history of his native country, will erect to his memory a splendid and imperishable monument. these, my dear friends, these are the virtuous and useful, and therefore salutary ends of book-collecting and book-reading. such characters are among the proudest pillars that adorn the greatest nations upon earth. "let me, however, not forget to mention that there are bashful or busy bibliomaniacs, who keep aloof from book-sales, intent only upon securing, by means of these mercurii, _stainless_ or _large paper_ copies of ancient literature. while menalcas sees his oblong cabinet decorated with such a tall, well-dressed, and perhaps matchless, regiment of _variorum classics_, he has little or no occasion to regret his unavoidable absence from the field of battle, in the strand or pall mall. and yet--although he is environed with a body guard, of which the great frederick's father might have envied him the possession, he cannot help casting a wishful eye, now and then, upon still choicer and taller troops which he sees in the territories of his rivals. i do not know whether he would not sacrifice the whole right wing of his army, for the securing of some magnificent treasures in the empire of his neighbour rinaldo: for there he sees, and adores, with the rapture-speaking eye of a classical bibliomaniac, the tall, wide, thick, clean, brilliant, and illuminated copy of the _first livy_ upon vellum--enshrined in an impenetrable oaken case, covered with choice morocco! "there he often witnesses the adoration paid to this glorious object, by some bookish pilgrim, who, as the evening sun reposes softly upon the hill, pushes onward, through copse, wood, moor, heath, bramble, and thicket, to feast his eyes upon the mellow lustre of its leaves, and upon the nice execution of its typography. menalcas sees all this; and yet has too noble a heart to envy rinaldo his treasures! these bibliomaniacs often meet and view their respective forces; but never with hostile eyes. they know their relative strength; and wisely console themselves by being each 'eminent in his degree.' like corregio, they are 'also painters' in their way." phil. a well-a-day, lisardo! does not this recital chill your blood with despair? instead of making your purchases, you are only listening supinely to our friend! lis. not exactly so. one of these obliging mercurii has already executed a few commissions for me. you forget that our friend entered into a little chat with him, just before we took possession of our seats. as to despair of obtaining book-gems similar to those of the four last mentioned bibliomaniacs, i know not what to say--yet this i think must be granted: no one could make a better use of them than their present owners. see, the elder mercurius comes to tell me of a pleasant acquisition to my library! what a murmur and confusion prevail about the auctioneer! good news, i trust? at this moment lisardo received intelligence that he had obtained possession of the catalogues of the books of bunau, crevenna, and pinelli; and that, after a desperate struggle with quisquilius, he came off victorious in a contest for de bure's _bibliographie instructive_, _gaignat's catalogue_, and the two copious ones of the _duke de la valliere_: these four latter being half-bound and uncut, in nineteen volumes. transport lit up the countenance of lisardo, upon his receiving this intelligence; but as pleasure and pain go hand in hand in this world, so did this young and unsuspecting bibliomaniac evince heavy affliction, on being told that he had failed in his attack upon the best editions of le long's _bibliotheca sacra_, fresnoy's _méthode pour etudier l'histoire_, and baillet's _jugemens des savans_--these having been carried off, at the point of the bayonet, by an irresistible onset from atticus. "remember, my friend," said i, in a soothing strain, "remember that you are but a polydore; and must expect to fall when you encounter achilles.[ ] think of the honour you have acquired in this day's glorious contest; and, when you are drenching your cups of claret, at your hospitable board, contemplate your de bure as a trophy which will always make you respected by your visitors! i am glad to see you revive. yet further intelligence?" [footnote : the reader may peruse the affecting death of this beautiful youth, by the merciless achilles, from the to th verso of the xxth book of _homer's iliad_. fortunately for lisardo, he survives the contest, and even threatens revenge.] lis. my good mercurius, for whom a knife and fork shall always be laid at my table, has just informed me that clement's _bibliotheque curieuse_, and panzer's _typographical annals_, are knocked down to me, after mustapha had picked me out for single combat, and battered my breast-plate with a thousand furious strokes! "you must always," said i, "expect tough work from such an enemy, who is frequently both wanton and wild. but i congratulate you heartily on the event of this day's contest. let us now pack up and pay for our treasures. your servant has just entered the room, and the chaise is most probably at the door." lis. i am perfectly ready. mercurius tells me that the whole amounts to---- phil. upwards of thirty guineas? lis. hard upon forty pounds. here is the draft upon my banker: and then for my precious tomes of bibliography! a thousand thanks, my friend. i love this place of all things; and, after your minute account of the characters of those who frequent it, i feel a strong propensity to become a deserving member of so respectable a fraternity. leaving them all to return to their homes as satisfied as myself, i wish them a hearty good day. upon saying this, we followed lisardo and his bibliographical treasures into the chaise; and instantly set off, at a sharp trot, for the quiet and comfort of green fields and running streams. as we rolled over westminster-bridge, we bade farewell, like the historian of the decline and fall of the roman empire, to the "fumum et opes strepitumque romæ." [illustration] [illustration: chiswick house as in .] part iv. =the library.= dr. henry's history of great britain. a game at chess.--of monachism and chivalry. dinner at lorenzo's. some account of book-collectors in england. ----wisdom loves this seat serene, and virtue's self approves:-- here come the griev'd, a change of thought to find; the curious here, to feed a craving mind: here the devout, their peaceful temple chuse; and here, the poet meets his favouring muse. crabbe's poems. (_the library._) [illustration: =ingredere ut proficias.=] [illustration] =the library.= dr. henry's history of great britain. a game of chess.--of monachism and chivalry. dinner at lorenzo's. some account of book-collectors in england. during the first seven miles of our return from the busy scene which has just been described, it was sufficiently obvious that lisardo was suffering a little under the pangs of mortification. true it was, he had filled his pocket with an ampler supply of pistoles than it ever fell to the lot of gil blas, at the same time of life, to be master of; but he had not calculated upon the similar condition of his competitors; some of whom had yet greater powers of purchase, and a more resolute determination, as well as nicer skill, in exercising these powers, than himself. thus rushing into the combat with the heat and vehemence of youth, he was of necessity compelled to experience the disappointment attendant upon such precipitancy. it was in vain that philemon and myself endeavoured to make him completely satisfied with his purchase: nothing produced a look of complacency from him. at length, upon seeing the rising ground which was within two or three miles of our respective homes, he cheered up by degrees; and a sudden thought of the treasures contained in his clement, de bure and panzer, darted a gleam of satisfaction across his countenance. his eyes resumed their wonted brilliancy, and all the natural gaiety of his disposition returned with full effect to banish every vapour of melancholy. "indeed, my good friend," said he to me--"i shall always have reason to think and speak well of your kindness shewn towards me this day; and although some years may elapse before a similar collection may be disposed of--and i must necessarily wait a tedious period 'ere i get possession of maittaire, audiffredi, and others of the old school--yet i hope to convince lysander, on the exhibition of my purchase, that my conversion to bibliography has been sincere. yes: i perceive that i have food enough to digest, in the volumes which are now my travelling companions, for two or three years to come--and if, by keeping a sharp look-out upon booksellers' catalogues when they are first published, i can catch hold of vogt, schelhorn and heinecken, my progress in bibliography, within the same period, must be downright marvellous!" "i congratulate you," exclaimed philemon, "upon the return of your reason and good sense. i began to think that the story of orlando had been thrown away upon you; and that his regular yearly purchases of a certain set of books, and making himself master of their principal contents before he ventured upon another similar purchase, had already been banished from your recollection." we were now fast approaching the end of our journey; when the groom of lorenzo, mounted upon a well-bred courser, darted quickly by the chaise, apparently making towards my house--but on turning his head, and perceiving me within it, he drew up and bade the postilion stop. a note from his master soon disclosed the reason of this interruption. lorenzo, upon hearing of the arrival of lysander and philemon, and of their wish to visit his library, had sent us all three a kind invitation to dine with him on the morrow. his close intimacy with lisardo (who was his neighbour) had left no doubt in the mind of the latter but that a similar note had been sent to his own house. after telling the messenger that we would not fail to pay our respects to his master, we drove briskly homewards; and found lysander sitting on a stile under some wide-spreading beech trees, at the entrance of the paddock, expecting our arrival. in less than half an hour we sat down to dinner (at a time greatly beyond what i was accustomed to); regaling lysander, during the repast, with an account of the contest we had witnessed; and every now and then preventing lisardo from rushing towards his packet (even in the midst of his _fricandeau_), and displaying his book-treasures. after dinner, our discussion assumed a more methodical shape. lysander bestowed his hearty commendations upon the purchase; and, in order to whet the bibliomaniacal appetite of his young convert, he slyly observed that his set of de bure's pieces were _half bound_ and _uncut_; and that by having them bound in morocco, with gilt leaves, he would excel my own set; which latter was coated in a prettily-sprinkled calf leather, with speckled edges. lisardo could not repress the joyful sensations which this remark excited; and i observed that, whenever his eyes glanced upon my shelves, he afterwards returned them upon his own little collection, with a look of complacency mingled with exultation. it was evident, therefore, that he was now thoroughly reconciled to his fortune. lysand. during your absence, i have been reading a very favourite work of mine--dr. henry's _history of great britain_; especially that part of it which i prefer so much to the history of human cunning and human slaughter; i mean, the account of learning and of learned men. phil. it is also a great favourite with me. but while i regret the inexcuseable omission of an index to such a voluminous work, and the inequality of mr. andrews's partial continuation of it, i must be permitted to observe that the history of our literature and learned men is not the most brilliant, or best executed, part of dr. henry's valuable labours. there are many omissions to supply, and much interesting additional matter to bring forward, even in some of the most elaborate parts of it. his account of the arts might also be improved; although in commerce, manners and customs, i think he has done as much, and as well, as could reasonably be expected. i question, however, whether his work, from the plan upon which it is executed, will ever become so popular as its fondest admirers seem to hope. lysand. you are to consider, philemon, that in the execution of such an important whole, in the erection of so immense a fabric, some parts must necessarily be finished in a less workman-like style than others. and, after all, there is a good deal of caprice in our criticisms. you fancy, in this fabric (if i may be allowed to go on with my simile), a boudoir, a hall, or a staircase; and fix a critical eye upon a recess badly contrived, an oval badly turned, or pillars weakly put together:--the builder says, don't look at these parts of the fabric with such fastidious nicety; they are subordinate. if my boudoir will hold a moderate collection of old-fashioned dresden china, if my staircase be stout enough to conduct you and your company to the upper rooms; and, if my hall be spacious enough to hold the hats, umbrellas and walking-sticks of your largest dinner-party, they answer the ends proposed:--unless you would _live_ in your boudoir, upon your staircase, or within your hall! the fact then is, you, philemon, prefer the boudoir, and might, perhaps, improve upon its structure; but, recollect, there are places in a house of equal, or perhaps more, consequence than this beloved boudoir. now, to make the obvious application to the work which has given rise to this wonderful stretch of imagination on my part:--dr. henry is the builder, and his history is the building, in question: in the latter he had to put together, with skill and credit, a number of weighty parts, of which the "_civil and ecclesiastical_" is undoubtedly the most important to the generality of readers. but one of these component parts was the _the history of learning and of learned men_; which its author probably thought of subordinate consequence, or in the management of which, to allow you the full force of your objection, he was not so well skilled. yet, still, never before having been thus connected with such a building, it was undoubtedly a delightful acquisition; and i question whether, if it had been more elaborately executed--if it had exhibited all the fret-work and sparkling points which you seem to conceive necessary to its completion; i question, whether the popularity of the work would have been even so great as it is, and as it unquestionably merits to be! a few passionately-smitten literary antiquaries are not, perhaps, the fittest judges of such a production. to be generally useful and profitable should be the object of every author of a similar publication; and as far as candour and liberality of sentiment, an unaffected and manly style, accompanied with weighty matter, extensive research, and faithful quotation, render a work nationally valuable--the work of dr. henry, on these grounds, is an ornament and honour to his country. phil. yet i wish he had rambled (if you will permit me so to speak) a little more into book-men and book-anecdotes. lysand. you may indulge this wish very innocently; but, certainly, you ought not to censure dr. henry for the omission of such minutiæ. lis. does he ever quote clement, de bure, or panzer? lysand. away with such bibliomaniacal frenzy! he quotes solid, useful and respectable authorities; chiefly our old and most valuable historians. no writer before him ever did them so much justice, or displayed a more familiar acquaintance with them. lis. do pray give us, lysander, some little sketches of book-characters--which, i admit, did not enter into the plan of dr. henry's excellent work. as i possess the original quarto edition of this latter, bound in russia, you will not censure me for a want of respect towards the author. phil. i second lisardo's motion; although i fear the evening presses too hard upon us to admit of much present discussion. lysand. nothing--(speaking most unaffectedly from my heart) nothing affords me sincerer pleasure than to do any thing in my power which may please such cordial friends as yourselves. my pretensions to that sort of antiquarian _knowledge_, which belongs to the history of book-collectors, are very poor, as you well know,--they being greatly eclipsed by my _zeal_ in the same cause. but, as i love my country and my country's literature, so no conversation or research affords me a livelier pleasure than that which leads me to become better acquainted with the ages which have gone by; with the great and good men of old; who have found the most imperishable monuments of their fame in the sympathizing hearts of their successors. but i am wandering-- lis. go on as you please, dear lysander; for i have been too much indebted to your conversation ever to suppose it could diverge into any thing censoriously irrelevant. begin where and when you please. lysand. i assure you it is far from my intention to make any formal exordium, even if i knew the exact object of your request. phil. tell us all about book-collecting and bibliomaniacs in this country-- lis. "commençez au commençement"--as the french adage is. lysand. in sober truth, you impose upon me a pretty tough task! "one thousand and one nights" would hardly suffice for the execution of it; and now, already, i see the owl flying across the lawn to take her station in the neighbouring oak; while even the middle ground of yonder landscape is veiled in the blue haziness of evening. come a short half hour, and who, unless the moon befriend him, can see the outline of the village church? thus gradually and imperceptibly, but thus surely, succeeds age to youth--death to life--eternity to time!--you see in what sort of mood i am for the performance of my promise? lis. reserve these meditations for your pillow, dear lysander: and now, again i entreat you--"commençez au commençement." phil. pray make a beginning only: the conclusion shall be reserved, as a desert, for lorenzo's dinner to-morrow. lysand. lest i should be thought coquettish, i will act with you as i have already done; and endeavour to say something which may gratify you as before. it has often struck me my dear friends, continued lysander--(in a balanced attitude, and seeming to bring quietly together all his scattered thoughts upon the subject) it has often struck me that few things have operated more unfavourably towards the encouragement of learning, and of book-collecting, than the universal passion for _chivalry_--which obtained towards the middle ages; while, on the other hand, a _monastic life_ seems to have excited a love of retirement, meditation, and reading.[ ] i admit readily, that, considering the long continuance of the monastic orders, and that almost all intellectual improvement was confined within the cloister, a very slow and partial progress was made in literature. the system of education was a poor, stinted, and unproductive one. nor was it till after the enterprising activity of poggio had succeeded in securing a few precious remains of classical antiquity,[ ] that the wretched indolence of the monastic life began to be diverted from a constant meditation upon "antiphoners, grailes, and psalters,"[ ] towards subjects of a more generally interesting nature. i am willing to admit every degree of merit to the manual dexterity of the cloistered student. i admire his snow-white vellum missals, emblazoned with gold, and sparkling with carmine and ultramarine blue. by the help of the microscopic glass, i peruse his diminutive penmanship, executed with the most astonishing neatness and regularity; and often wish in my heart that our typographers printed with ink as glossy black as that which they sometimes used in their writing. i admire all this; and now and then, for a guinea or two, i purchase a specimen of such marvellous leger-de-main: but the book, when purchased, is to me a sealed book. and yet, philemon, i blame not the individual, but the age; not the task, but the task-master; for surely the same exquisite and unrivalled beauty would have been exhibited in copying an ode of horace, or a dictum of quintilian. still, however, you may say that the intention, in all this, was pure and meritorious; for that such a system excited insensibly a love of quiet, domestic order, and seriousness: while those counsels and regulations which punished a "clerk for being a hunter," and restricted "the intercourse of concubines,"[ ] evinced a spirit of jurisprudence which would have done justice to any age. let us allow, then, if you please, that a love of book-reading, and of book-collecting, was a meritorious trait in the monastic life; and that we are to look upon old abbies and convents as the sacred depositories of the literature of past ages. what can you say in defence of your times of beloved chivalry? [footnote : as early as the sixth century commenced the custom, in some monasteries, of copying ancient books and composing new ones. it was the usual, and even only, employment of the first monks of marmoutier. a monastery without a library was considered as a fort or a camp deprived of the necessary articles for its defence: "claustrum sine armario, quasi castrum sine armentario." peignot, _dict. de bibliolog._, vol. i., . i am fearful that this good old bibliomanical custom of keeping up the credit of their libraries among the monks had ceased--at least in the convent of romsey, in hampshire--towards the commencement of the sixteenth century. one would think that the books had been there disposed of in bartering for _strong liquors_; for at a visitation by bishop fox, held there in , joyce rows, the abbess, is accused of _immoderate drinking_, especially in the night time; and of inviting the nuns to her chamber every evening, for the purpose of these excesses, "post completorium." what is frightful to add,--"this was a rich convent, and filled with ladies of the best families." see warton's cruel note in his _life of sir thomas pope_, p. , edit. . a tender-hearted bibliomaniac cannot but feel acutely on reflecting upon the many beautifully-illuminated vellum books which were, in all probability, exchanged for these inebriating gratifications! to balance this unfavourable account read hearne's remark about the libraries in ancient monasteries, in the sixth volume of _leland's collectanea_, p. - , edit. : and especially the anecdotes and authorities stated by dr. henry in book iii., chap, iv., sec. .] [footnote : see the first volume of mr. roscoe's _lorenzo de medici_; and the rev. mr. shepherd's _life of poggio bracciolini_.] [footnote : when queen elizabeth deputed a set of commissioners to examine into the superstitious books belonging to all-souls library, there was returned, in the list of these superstitious works, "eight grailes, seven antiphoners of parchment and bound." gutch's _collectanea curiosa_, vol. ii., . at page , ante, the reader will find a definition of the word "antiphoner." he is here informed that a "gradale" or "grail," is a book which ought to have in it "the office of sprinkling holy water: the beginnings of the masses, or the offices of _kyrie_, with the verses of _gloria in excelsis_; the _gradales_, or what is gradually sung after the epistles; the hallelujah and tracts, the sequences, the creed to be sung at mass, the offertories, the hymns holy, and lamb of god, the communion, &c., which relate to the choir at the singing of a solemn mass." this is the rev. j. lewis's account; _idem opus_, vol. ii., .] [footnote : "_of a clerk that is an hunter._" "we ordain that if any clerk be defamed of trespass committed in forest or park of any man's, and thereof be lawfully convicted before his ordinary, or do confess it to him, the diocesan shall make redemption thereof in his goods, if he have goods after the quality of his fault; and such redemption shall be assigned to him to whom the loss, hurt, or injury, is done; but if he have no goods, let his bishop grievously punish his person according as the fault requireth, lest through trust to escape punishment they boldly presume to offend." _fol._ , _rev._: vide _infra_. (the same prohibition against clergymen being hunters appears in a circular letter, or injunctions, by lee, archbishop of york, a.d. . "item; they shall not be common _hunters ne hawkers_, ne playe at gammes prohibytede, as dycese and cartes, and such oder." burnet's _hist. of the reformation_; vol. iii. p. , "collections.") "_of the removing of clerks' concubines._" "although the governors of the church have always laboured and enforced to drive and chase away from the houses of the church that rotten contagiousness of pleasant filthiness with the which the sight and beauty of the church is grievously spotted and defiled, and yet could never hitherto bring it to pass, seeing it is of so great a lewd boldness that it thursteth in unshamefastly without ceasing; we, therefore," &c. _fol._ , _rect._ "_of concubines, that is to say of them that keep concubines._" "how unbecoming it is, and how contrary to the pureness of christians, to touch sacred things with lips and hands polluted, or any to give the laws and praisings of cleanness, or to present himself in the lord's temple, when he is defiled with the spots of lechery, not only the divine and canonical laws, but also the monitions of secular princes, hath evidently seen by the judgment of holy consideration, commanding and enjoining both discreetly and also wholesomely, shamefacedness unto all christ's faithful, and ministers of the holy church." _fol._ , _rect._ _constitutions provincialles, and of otho aud [transcriber's note: and] octhobone._ redman's edit. , mo. on looking into du pin's _ecclesiastical history_, vol. ix., p. , edit. , i find that hugh of dia, by the ninth canon in the council of poictiers, (centy. xi.) ordained "that the sub-deacons, deacons, and priests, shall have no concubine, or any other suspicious women in their houses; and that all those who shall wittingly hear the mass of a priest that keeps a concubine, or is guilty of simony, shall be excommunicated."] phil. shew me in what respect the gallant spirit of an ancient knight was hostile to the cultivation of the belles-lettres? lysand. most readily. look at your old romances, and what is the system of education--of youthful pursuits--which they in general inculcate? intrigue and bloodshed.[ ] examine your favourite new edition of the _fabliaux et contes_ of the middle ages, collected by barbazan! however the editor may say that "though some of these pieces are a little too free, others breathe a spirit of morality and religion--"[ ] the main scope of the poems, taken collectively, is that which has just been mentioned. but let us come to particulars. what is there in the _ordene de chevalerie_, or _le castoiement d'un pere à son fils_ (pieces in which one would expect a little seriousness of youthful instruction), that can possibly excite a love of reading, book-collecting, or domestic quiet? again; let us see what these chivalrous lads do, as soon as they become able-bodied! nothing but assault and wound one another. read concerning your favourite _oliver of castile_,[ ] and his half-brother _arthur_! or, open the beautiful volumes of the late interesting translation of monstrelet, and what is almost the very first thing which meets your eye? why, "an esquire of arragon (one of your chivalrous heroes) named michel d'orris, sends a challenge to an english esquire of the same complexion with himself--and this is the nature of the challenge: [which i will read from the volume, as it is close at my right hand, and i have been dipping into it this morning in your absence--] [footnote : the celebrated ludovicus vives has strung together a whole list of ancient popular romances, calling them "ungracious books." the following is his saucy philippic: "which books but idle men wrote unlearned, and set all upon filth and viciousness; in whom i wonder what should delight men, but that vice pleaseth them so much. as for learning, none is to be looked for in those men, which saw never so much as a shadow of learning themselves. and when they tell ought, what delight can be in those things that be so plain and foolish lies? one killeth twenty by himself alone, another killeth thirty; another, wounded with a hundred wounds, and left for dead, riseth up again; and on the next day, made whole and strong, overcometh two giants, and then goeth away loaden with gold and silver and precious stones, mo than a galley would carry away. what madness is it of folks to have pleasure in these books! also there is no wit in them, but a few words of wanton lust; which be spoken to move her mind with whom they love, if it chance she be steadfast. and if they be read but for this, the best were to make books of bawd's crafts, for in other things what craft can be had of such a maker that is ignorant of all good craft? nor i never heard man say that he liked these books, but those that never touched good books."--_instruction of a christian woman_, sign. d. . rev., edit. . from the fifth chapter (sufficiently curious) of "what books be to be read, and what not."] [footnote : vol. ii., p. , edit. .] [footnote : "when the king saw that they were puissant enough for to wield armour at their ease, he gave them license for to do cry a justing and tournament. the which oliver and arthur made for to be cried, that three aventurous knights should just against all comers, the which should find them there the first day of the lusty month of may, in complete harness, for to just against their adversaries with sharp spears. and the said three champions should just three days in three colours: that is to wit, in black, grey and violet--and their shields of the same hue; and them to find on the third day at the lists. there justed divers young knights of the king's court: and the justing was more _asperer_ of those young knights than ever they had seen any in that country. and, by the report of the ladies, they did so knightly, every one, that it was not possible for to do better, as them thought, by their strokes. but, above all other, oliver and arthur (his loyal fellow) had the _bruit_ and _loos_. the justing endured long: it was marvel to see the hideous strokes that they dealt; for the justing had not finished so soon but that the night _separed_ them. nevertheless, the adversary party abode 'till the torches were light. but the ladies and _damoyselles_, that of all the justing time had been there, were weary, and would depart. wherefore the justers departed in likewise, and went and disarmed them for to come to the banquet or feast. and when that the banquet was finished and done, the dances began. and there came the king and the valiant knights of arms, for to enquire of the ladies and _damoyselles_, who that had best borne him as for that day. the ladies, which were all of one accord and agreement, said that oliver and arthur had surmounted all the best doers of that _journey_. and by cause that oliver and arthur were both of one party, and that they could find but little difference between them of knighthood, they knew not the which they might sustain. but, in the end, they said that arthur had done right valiantly: nevertheless, they said that oliver had done best unto their seeming. and therefore it was concluded that the _pryce_ should be given unto oliver, as for the best of them of within. and another noble knight, of the realm of algarbe, that came with the queen, had the pryce of without. when the pryce of the juste that had been made was brought before oliver, by two fair _damoyselles_, he waxed all red, and was ashamed at that present time; and said that it was of their bounty for to give him the pryce, and not of his desert: nevertheless, he received it; and, as it was of custom in guerdoning them, he kissed them. and soon after they brought the wine and spices; and then the dances and the feast took an end as for that night." _hystorye of olyuer of castylle, and of the fayre helayne, &c._, , to., sign. a. v. vj. this i suppose to be the passage alluded to by lysander. the edition from which it is taken, and of which the title was barely known to ames and herbert, is printed by wynkyn de worde. mr. heber's copy of it is at present considered to be unique. the reader will see some copious extracts from it in the second volume of the _british typographical antiquities_.] "first, to enter the lists on foot, each armed in the manner he shall please, having a dagger and sword attached to any part of his body, and a battle-axe, with the handle of such length as the challenger shall fix on. the combat to be as follows: ten strokes of the battle-axe, without intermission; and when these strokes shall have been given, and the judge shall cry out 'ho!' ten cuts with the sword to be given without intermission or change of armour. when the judge shall cry out 'ho!' we will resort to our daggers, and give ten stabs with them. should either party lose or drop his weapon, the other may continue the use of the one in his hand until the judge shall cry out 'ho!'" &c.[ ] a very pretty specimen of honourable combat, truly!--and a mighty merciful judge who required even more cuts and thrusts than these (for the combat is to go on) before he cried out "ho!" defend us from such ejaculatory umpires!-- [footnote : see _monstrelet's chronicles_, translated by thomas johnes, esq., vol. i., p. , edit. , to. another elegant and elaborate specimen of the hafod press; whose owner will be remembered as long as literature and taste shall be cultivated in this country.] lis. pray dwell no longer upon such barbarous heroism! we admit that _monachism_ may have contributed towards the making of bibliomaniacs more effectually than _chivalry_. now proceed-- these words had hardly escaped lisardo, when the arrival of my worthy neighbour narcottus (who lived by the parsonage house), put a stop to the discourse. agreeably to a promise which i had made him three days before, he came to play a game of chess with philemon; who, on his part, although a distinguished champion at this head-distracting game, gave way rather reluctantly to the performance of the promise: for lysander was now about to enter upon the history of the bibliomania in this country. the chess-board, however was brought out; and down to the contest the combatants sat--while lisardo retired to one corner of the room to examine thoroughly his newly-purchased volumes, and lysander took down a prettily executed vo. volume upon the game of chess, printed at cheltenham, about six years ago, and composed "by an amateur." while we were examining, in this neat work, an account of the numerous publications upon the game of chess, in various countries and languages, and were expressing our delight in reading anecdotes about eminent chess players, lisardo was carefully packing up his books, as he expected his servant every minute to take them away. the servant shortly arrived, and upon his expressing his inability to carry the entire packet--"here," exclaimed lisardo, "do you take the quartos, and follow me; who will march onward with the octavos." this was no sooner said than our young bibliomaniacal convert gave de bure, gaignat, and la valliere, a vigorous swing across his shoulders; while the twenty quarto volumes of clement and panzer were piled, like "ossa upon pelion," upon those of his servant--and "light of foot, and light of heart" lisardo took leave of us 'till the morrow. meanwhile, the chess combat continued with unabated spirit. here philemon's king stood pretty firmly guarded by both his knights, one castle, one bishop, and a body of common soldiers[ ]--impenetrable as the grecian phalanx, or roman legion; while his queen had made a sly sortie to surprise the only surviving knight of narcottus. narcottus, on the other hand, was cautiously collecting his scattered foot soldiers, and, with two bishops, and two castle-armed elephants, were meditating a desperate onset to retrieve the disgrace of his lost queen. an inadvertent remark from lysander, concerning the antiquity of the game, attracted the attention of philemon so much as to throw him off his guard; while his queen, forgetful of her sex, and venturing unprotected, like penthesilea of old, into the thickest of the fight, was trampled under foot, without mercy,[ ] by a huge elephant, carrying a castle of armed men upon his back. shouts of applause, from narcottus's men, rent the vaulted air; while grief and consternation possessed the astonished army of philemon. "away with your antiquarian questions," exclaimed the latter, looking sharply at lysander: "away with your old editions of the game of chess! the moment is critical; and i fear the day may be lost. now for desperate action!" so saying, he bade the king exhort his dismayed subjects. his majesty made a spirited oration; and called upon _sir launcelot_, the most distinguished of the two knights,[ ] to be mindful of his own and of his country's honour: to spare the effusion of blood among his subjects as much as possible; but rather to place victory or defeat in the comparative skill of the officers: and, at all events, to rally round that throne which had conferred such high marks of distinction upon his ancestors. "i needed not, gracious sire," replied sir launcelot--curbing in his mouth-foaming steed, and fixing his spear in the rest--"i needed not to be here reminded of your kindness to my forefathers, or of the necessity of doing every thing, at such a crisis, beseeming the honour of a true round-table knight.--yes, gracious sovereign, i swear to you by the love i bear to the lady of the lake[ ]--by the remembrance of the soft moments we have passed together in the honey-suckle bowers of her father--by all that an knight of chivalry is taught to believe the most sacred and binding--i swear that i will not return this day alive without the laurel of victory entwined round my brow. right well do i perceive that deeds and not words must save us now--let the issue of the combat prove my valour and allegiance." upon this, sir launcelot clapped spurs to his horse, and after driving an unprotected bishop into the midst of the foot-soldiers, who quickly took him prisoner, he sprang forward, with a lion-like nimbleness and ferocity, to pick out _sir galaad_, the only remaining knight in the adverse army, to single combat. sir galaad, strong and wary, like the greenland bear when assailed by the darts and bullets of our whale-fishing men, marked the fury of sir launcelot's course, and sought rather to present a formidable defence by calling to aid his elephants, than to meet such a champion single-handed. a shrill blast from his horn told the danger of his situation, and the necessity of help. what should now be done? the unbroken ranks of philemon's men presented a fearful front to the advance of the elephants, and the recent capture of a venerable bishop had made the monarch, on narcottus's side, justly fearful of risking the safety of his empire by leaving himself wholly without episcopal aid. meanwhile the progress of sir launcelot was marked with blood; and he was of necessity compelled to slaughter a host of common men, who stood thickly around sir galaad, resolved to conquer or die by his side. at length, as master laneham aptly expresses it, "get they grysly together."[ ] the hostile leaders met; there was neither time nor disposition for parley. sir galaad threw his javelin with well-directed fury; which, flying within an hair's breadth of sir launcelot's shoulder, passed onward, and, grazing the cheek of a foot soldier, stood quivering in the sand. he then was about to draw his ponderous sword--but the tremendous spear of sir launcelot, whizzing strongly in the air, passed through his thickly quilted belt, and, burying itself in his bowels, made sir galaad to fall breathless from his horse. now might you hear the shouts of victory on one side, and the groans of the vanquished on the other; or, as old homer expresses it, victors and vanquished shouts promiscuous rise. with streams of blood the slippery fields are dyed, and slaughtered heroes swell the dreadful tide. _iliad_ [passim]. [footnote : "whilst there are strong, able, and active men of the king's side, to defend his cause, there is no danger of [this] misfortune." _letter to the craftsman on the game of chess_, p. .] [footnote : "when therefore the men of one party attack those of the other, though their spleen at first may only seem bent against a _bishop_, a _knight_, or an inferior officer; yet, if successful in their attacks on that servant of the king, they never stop there: they come afterwards to think themselves strong enough even to attack _the queen_," &c. _the same_, p. .] [footnote : "_the knight_ (whose steps, as your correspondent justly observes, are not of an ordinary kind, and often surprise men who oppose him) is of great use in extricating _the king_ out of those difficulties in which his foes endeavour to entangle him.--he is a man whom a wise player makes great use of in these exigences, and who oftenest defeats the shallow schemes and thin artifices of unskilful antagonists. they must be very bad players who do not guard against the steps of _the knight_." _the same_, p. .] [footnote : "the lady of the lake; famous in king arthurz book"--says master laneham, in his letter to master humfrey martin; concerning the entertainment given by lord leicester to q. elizabeth at kenilworth castle: a.d. , edit. , p. . yet more famous, i add, in a poem under this express title, by walter scott, .] [footnote : see the authority (p. ) quoted in the note at page , ante.] and, truly, the army of narcottus seemed wasted with a great slaughter: yet on neither side, had the monarch been _checked_, so as to be put in personal danger! "while there is life there is hope," said the surviving bishop[ ] on the side of narcottus: who now taking upon him the command of the army, and perceiving sir launcelot to be pretty nearly exhausted with fatigue, and wantonly exposing his person, ordered the men at arms to charge him briskly on all sides; while his own two castles kept a check upon the remaining castle, knight, and bishop of the opposite army: also, he exhorted the king to make a feint, as if about to march onwards. sir launcelot, on perceiving the movement of the monarch, sprang forward to make him a prisoner; but he was surprised by an elephant in ambuscade, from whose castle-bearing back a well-shot arrow pierced his corslet, and inflicted a mortal wound. he fell; but, in falling, he seemed to smile even sweetly, as he thought upon the noble speech of sir bohort[ ] over the dead body of his illustrious ancestor, of the same name; and, exhorting his gallant men to revenge his fall, he held the handle of his sword firmly, till his whole frame was stiffened in death. and now the battle was renewed with equal courage and equal hopes of victory on both sides: but the loss of the flower of their armies, and especially of their beloved spouses, had heavily oppressed the adverse monarchs: who, retiring to a secured spot, bemoaned in secret the hapless deaths of their queens, and bitterly bewailed that injudicious law which, of necessity, so much exposed their fair persons, by giving them such an unlimited power. the fortune of the day, therefore, remained in the hands of the respective commanders; and if the knight and bishop, on philemon's side, had not contested about superiority of rule, the victory had surely been with philemon. but the strife of these commanders threw every thing into confusion. the men, after being trampled upon by the elephants of narcottus, left their king exposed, without the power of being aided by his castle. an error so fatal was instantly perceived by the bishop of narcottus's shattered army; who, like another ximenes,[ ] putting himself at the head of his forces, and calling upon his men resolutely to march onwards, gave orders for the elephants to be moved cautiously at a distance, and to lose no opportunity of making the opposite monarch prisoner. thus, while he charged in front, and captured, with his own hands, the remaining adverse knight, his men kept the adverse bishop from sending reinforcements; and philemon's elephant not having an opportunity of sweeping across the plain to come to the timely aid of the king,[ ] the victory was speedily obtained, for the men upon the backs of narcottus's elephants kept up so tremendous a discharge of arrows that the monarch was left without a single attendant: and, of necessity, was obliged to submit to the generosity of his captors. [footnote : "i think _the bishops_ extremely considerable throughout the whole game. one quality too they have, which is peculiar to themselves; this is that, throughout the whole game, they have a _steadiness_ in their conduct, superior to men of any other denomination on the board; as they never change their colour, but always pursue the path in which they set out." _the same_ (vid. - ) p. .] [footnote : this truly chivalrous speech may be seen extracted in mr. burnet's _specimens of english prose writers_, vol. i., . one of virgil's heroes, to the best of my recollection, dies serenely upon thinking of his beloved countrymen: ----dulces moriens reminiscitur argos!] [footnote : it is always pleasant to me to make comparisons with eminent book-patrons, or, if the reader pleases, bibliomaniacs. cardinal ximenes was the promoter and patron of the celebrated complutensian polyglott bible; concerning which i have already submitted some account to the public in my _introduction to the classics_, vol. i., pp. , . his political abilities and personal courage have been described by dr. robertson (in his history of charles v.), with his usual ability. we have here only to talk of him as connected with books. mallinkrot and le long have both preserved the interesting anecdote which is related by his first biographer, alvaro gomez, concerning the completion of the forementioned polyglott. "i have often heard john brocarius (says gomez) son of arnoldus brocarius, who printed the polyglott, tell his friends that, when his father had put the finishing stroke to the last volume, he deputed _him_ to carry it to the cardinal. john brocarius was then a lad; and, having dressed himself in an elegant suit of clothes, he gravely approached ximenes, and delivered the volume into his hands. 'i render thanks to thee, oh god!' exclaimed the cardinal, 'that thou hast protracted my life to the completion of these biblical labours.' afterwards, when conversing with his friends, ximenes would often observe that the surmounting of the various difficulties of his political situation did not afford him half the satisfaction which he experienced from the finishing of his polyglott. he died in the year , not many weeks after the last volume was published." gomez, or gomecius's work "_de rebus gestis, à francisco ximenio cisnerio archiepiscopo complut_," , fol., is a book of very uncommon occurrence. it is much to be wished that lord holland, or mr. southey, would give us a life of this celebrated political character: as the biographies of flechier and marsolier seem miserably defective, and the sources of gomez to have been but partially consulted. but i must not let slip this opportunity of commemorating the book-reputation of ximenes, without making the reader acquainted with two other singularly scarce and curious productions of the press, which owe their birth to the bibliomanical spirit of our cardinal. i mean the "_missale mixtum secundun [transcriber's note: secundum] regulum b. isidori, dictum mozarabes, cum præfat._" _a. ortiz._ toleti, , fol. and the "_breviarium, mixtum," &c._ _mozarabes._ toleti, , fol.: of the former of which there was a copy in the harleian collection; as the ensuing interesting note, in the catalogue of lord harley's books, specifies. i shall give it without abridgment: "this is the scarcest book in the whole harleian collection. at the end of it are the following words, which deserve to be inserted here:--adlaudem omnipotentis dei, nec non virginis mariæ matris ejus, omnium sanctorum sanctarumq; expletum est missale mixtum secundum regulam beati isidori dictum mozarabes: maxima cum diligentia perlectum et emendatum, per reverendum in utroq; jure doctorem dominum alfonsum ortiz, canonicum toletanum. impressum in regal. civitate toleti, jussu reverendissimi in christo patris domini d. francisci ximenii, ejusdem civitatis archiepiscopi. impensis nobilis melchioris gorricii novariensis, per magistrum petrum hagembach, almanum, anno salutis nostræ , die o mensis januarii." "this is supposed to be the ancient missal amended and purged by st. isidore, archbishop of sevil, and ordered by the council of toledo to be used in all churches; every one of which before that time had a missal peculiar to itself. the moors afterwards committing great ravages in spain, destroying the churches, and throwing every thing there, both civil and sacred, into confusion, all st. isidore's missals, excepting those in the city of toledo, were lost. but those were preserved even after the moors had made themselves masters of that city; since they left six of the churches there to the christians, and granted them the free exercise of their religion. alphonsus the sixth, many ages afterwards, expelled the moors from toledo, and ordered the roman missal to be used in those churches where st. isidore's missal had been in vogue, ever since the council above-mentioned. but the people of toledo insisting that their missal was drawn up by the most ancient bishops, revised and corrected by st. isidore, proved to be the best by the great number of saints who had followed it, and been preserved during the whole time of the moorish government in spain, he could not bring his project to bear without great difficulty. in short, the contest between the roman and toletan missals came to that height that, according to the genius of the age, it was decided by a single combat, wherein the champion of the toletan missal proved victorious. but king alphonsus, say some of the spanish writers, not being satisfied with this, which he considered as the effect of chance only, ordered a fast to be proclaimed, and a great fire to be then made; into which, after the king and people had prayed fervently to god for his assistance in this affair, both the missals were thrown; but the toletan only escaped the violence of the flames. this, continue the same authors, made such an impression upon the king that he permitted the citizens of toledo to use their own missal in those churches that had been granted the christians by the moors. however, the copies of this missal grew afterwards so scarce, that cardinal ximenes found it extremely difficult to meet with one of them: which induced him to order this impression, and to build a chapel, in which this service was chanted every day, as it had at first been by the ancient christians. but, notwithstanding this, the copies of the toletan missal are become now so exceeding rare that it is at present almost in as much danger of being buried in oblivion as it was when committed to the press by cardinal ximenes." _bibl. harl._, vol. iii., p. . but let the reader consult the more extended details of de bure (_bibl. instruct._, vol. i., no. , ), and de la serna santander (_dict. chois. bibliogr. du_ xv. _siecle_, part iii., p. ); also the very valuable notice of vogt; _cat. libror. rarior._, p. ; who mention a fine copy of the missal and breviary, each struck off upon vellum, in the collegiate church of st. ildefonso. if i recollect rightly, mr. edwards informed me that an italian cardinal was in possession of a similar copy of each. this missal was republished at rome, with a capital preface and learned notes, by lesleus, a jesuit, in , to.: and lorenzana, archbishop of toledo, republished the breviary in a most splendid manner at madrid, in . both these re-impressions are also scarce. i know not whether the late king of spain ever put his design into execution of giving a new edition of these curious religious volumes; some ancient mss. of which had been carefully collated by burriel. consult osmont's _dict. typog._, vol. i., p. ; _cat. de gaignat_, nos. , ; _cat. de la valliere_, nos. , ; _bibl. solger._, vol. ii. no. ; and _bibl. colbert_, nos. , . having expatiated thus much, and perhaps tediously, about these renowned volumes, let me introduce to the notice of the heraldic reader the _coat of arms_ of the equally renowned cardinal--of whose genuine editions of the mozarabic missal and breviary my eyes were highly gratified with a sight, in the exquisite library of earl spencer, at althorp. [illustration]] [footnote : of the _tower_ or _rook_ (or _elephant_) one may indeed--to speak in the scripture style--(and properly speaking, considering its situation) call this piece "the head stone of the corner." there are two of them; and, whilst they remain firm, his majesty is ever in safety. the common enemies, therefore, of them and their king watch their least motion very narrowly, and try a hundred tricks to decoy them from the king's side, by feints, false alarms, stumbling blocks, or any other method that can be contrived to divert them from their duty. the _same_, p. . (vide. , ante.)] thus ended one of the most memorable chess contests upon record. not more stubbornly did the grecians and romans upon troy's plain, or the english and french upon egypt's shores, contend for the palm of victory, than did philemon and narcottus compel their respective forces to signalize themselves in this hard-fought game. to change the simile for a more homely one; no northamptonshire hunt was ever more vigorously kept up; and had it not been (at least so philemon thought!) for the inadvertent questions of lysander, respecting the antiquity of the amusement, an easy victory would have been obtained by my guest over my neighbour. lysander, with his usual politeness, took all the blame upon himself. philemon felt, as all chess-combatants feel upon defeat, peevish and vexed. but the admirably well adapted conversation of lysander, and the natural diffidence of narcottus, served to smooth philemon's ruffled plumage; and at length diffused o'er his countenance his natural glow of good humour. it was now fast advancing towards midnight; when narcottus withdrew to his house, and my guests to their chambers. to-morrow came; and with the morrow came composure and hilarity in the countenances of my guests. the defeat of the preceding evening was no longer thought of; except that philemon betrayed some little marks of irritability on lysander's shewing him the fac-simile wood-cuts of the pieces and men in caxton's edition of the game of chess, which are published in the recent edition of the typographical antiquities of our country. lisardo visited us betimes. his countenance, on his entrance gave indication of vexation and disappointment--as well it might; for, on his return home the preceding evening, he found the following note from lorenzo:-- "my dear lisardo; our friend's visitors, lysander and philemon, are coming with their host to eat old mutton, and drink old sherry, with me to-morrow; and afterwards to discuss subjects of bibliography. i do not ask you to join them, because i know your thorough aversion to every thing connected with such topics. adieu! truly yours, lorenzo." "little," exclaimed lisardo, "does he know of my conversion. i'll join you uninvited; and abide by the consequences." at four o'clock we set off, in company with lisardo, for lorenzo's dinner. i need hardly add that the company of the latter was cordially welcomed by our host; who, before the course of pastry was cleared away, proposed a sparkling bumper of malmsey madeira, to commemorate his conversion to bibliomaniacism. by half-past-five we were ushered into the library, to partake of a costly dessert of rock melons and hamburgh grapes, with all their appropriate embellishments of nectarines and nuts. massive and curiously cut decanters, filled with the genuine juice of the grape, strayed backwards and forwards upon the table: and well-furnished minds, which could not refuse the luxury of such a feast, made every thing as pleasant as rational pleasure could be. lis. if lorenzo have not any thing which he may conceive more interesting to propose, i move that you, good lysander, now resume the discussion of a subject which you so pleasantly commenced last night. phil. i rise to second the motion. loren. and i, to give it every support in my power. lysand. there is no resisting such adroitly levelled attacks. do pray tell me what it is you wish me to go on with? phil. the history of book-collecting and of book-collectors in this country. lis. the history of bibliomania, if you please. lysand. you are madder than the maddest of book-collectors, lisardo. but i will gossip away upon the subjects as well as i am able. i think we left off with an abuse of the anti-bibliomaniacal powers of chivalry. let us pursue a more systematic method; and begin, as lisardo says, "at the beginning." in the plan which i may pursue, you must forgive me, my friends, if you find it desultory and irregular: and, as a proof of the sincerity of your criticism, i earnestly beg that, like the chivalrous judge, of whom mention was made last night, you will cry out "_ho!_" when you wish me to cease. but where shall we begin? from what period shall we take up the history of bookism (or, if you please, bibliomania) in this country? let us pass over those long-bearded gentlemen called the druids; for in the various hypotheses which sagacious antiquaries have advanced upon their beloved _stone-henge_, none, i believe, are to be found wherein the traces of a _library_, in that vast ruin, are pretended to be discovered. as the druids were sparing of their writing,[ ] they probably read the more; but whether they carried their books with them into trees, or made their pillows of them upon salisbury-plain, tradition is equally silent. let us therefore preserve the same prudent silence, and march on at once into the seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries; in which the learning of bede, alcuin, erigena, and alfred, strikes us with no small degree of amazement. yet we must not forget that their predecessor theodore, archbishop of canterbury, was among the earliest book-collectors in this country; for he brought over from rome, not only a number of able professors, but a valuable collection of books.[ ] such, however, was the scarcity of the book article, that benedict biscop (a founder of the monastery of weremouth in northumberland), a short time after, made not fewer than five journeys to rome to purchase books, and other necessary things for his monastery--for one of which books our immortal alfred (a very _helluo librorum_! as you will presently learn) gave afterwards as much land as eight ploughs could labour.[ ] we now proceed to bede; whose library i conjecture to have been both copious and curious. what matin and midnight vigils must this literary phenomenon have patiently sustained! what a full and variously furnished mind was his! read the table of contents of the eight folio volumes of the cologne edition[ ] of his works, as given by dr. henry in the appendix to the fourth volume of his history of our own country; and judge, however you may wish that the author had gone less into abstruse and ponderous subjects, whether it was barely possible to avoid falling upon such themes, considering the gross ignorance and strong bias of the age? before this, perhaps, i ought slightly to have noticed ina, king of the west saxons, whose ideas of the comforts of a monastery, and whose partiality to _handsome book-binding_, we may gather from a curious passage in stow's chronicle or annals.[ ] [footnote : julius cæsar tells us that they dared not to commit their laws to writing. _de bell. gall._, lib. vi., § xiii.-xviii.] [footnote : dr. henry's _hist. of great britain_, vol. iv., p. , edit. , vo. we shall readily forgive theodore's singularity of opinions in respect to some cases of pharmacy, in which he held it to be "dangerous to perform bleeding on the fourth day of the moon; because both the light of the moon and the tides of the sea were then upon the increase."--we shall readily forgive this, when we think of his laudable spirit of bibliomania.] [footnote : dr. henry says that "this bargain was concluded by benedict with the king a little before his death, a.d. ; and the book was delivered, and the estate received by his successor abbot ceolfred." _hist. of great britain_, vol. iv., p. . there must be some mistake here: as alfred was not born till the middle of the ninth century. _bed. hist. abbat wermuthien, edit. smith_, pp. - , is quoted by dr. henry.] [footnote : , folio. de bure (_bibliogr. instruct._ no. ) might have just informed us that the paris and basil editions of bede's works are incomplete: and, at no. , where he notices the cambridge edition of bede's _ecclesiastical history_, ( , fol.) we may add that a previous english translation of it, by the celebrated stapleton, had been printed at antwerp in , to., containing some few admirably-well executed wood cuts. stapleton's translation has become a scarce book; and, as almost every copy of it now to be found is in a smeared and crazy condition, we may judge that it was once popular and much read.] [footnote : the passage is partly as follows--"the sayde king did also erect a chapell of gold and silver (to wit, garnished) with ornaments and vesselles likewise of golde and siluer, to the building of the which chappell hee gaue pounds of siluer, and to the altar pounde of golde, a chaleis with the patten, tenne pounde of golde, a censar pound, and twenty mancas of golde, two candlesticks, twelue pound and a halfe of siluer, a kiver for the gospel booke twenty pounds"! &c. this was attached to the monastery of glastonbury; which ina built "in a fenni place out of the way, to the end the monkes mought so much the more giue their minds to heauenly things," &c. _chronicle_, edit. , p. .] we have mentioned alcuin: whom ashmole calls one of the school-mistresses to france.[ ] how incomparably brilliant and beautifully polished was this great man's mind!--and, withal, what an enthusiastic bibliomaniac! read, in particular, his celebrated letter to charlemagne, which dr. henry has very ably translated; and see, how zealous he there shews himself to enrich the library of his archiepiscopal patron with good books and industrious students.[ ] well might egbert be proud of his librarian: the first, i believe upon record, who has composed a catalogue[ ] of books in latin hexameter verse: and full reluctantly, i ween, did this librarian take leave of his _cell_ stored with the choicest volumes--as we may judge from his pathetic address to it, on quitting england for france! if i recollect rightly, mr. turner's elegant translation[ ] of it begins thus: "o my lov'd cell, sweet dwelling of my soul, must i for ever say, dear spot, farewell?" [footnote : _theatrum chemicum_, proleg. sign. a. . rect.] [footnote : _history of great britain_, vol. iv., pp. , . "literatorum virorum fautor et mæcenas habebatur ætate sua maximus ac doctissimus," says bale: _scrip. brytan. illustr._, p. , edit. . "præ cæteris (says lomeier) insignem in colligendis illustrium virorum scriptis operam dedit egbertus eboracensis archiepiscopus, &c.: qui nobilissimam eboraci bibliothecam instituit, cujus meminit alcuinis," &c. _de bibliothecis_, p. . we are here informed that the archbishop's library, together with the cathedral of york, were accidentally burnt by fire in the reign of stephen.] [footnote : this curious catalogue is printed by dr. henry, from gale's _rer. anglicar. scriptor. vet._, tom. i., . the entire works of alcuin were printed at paris, in , folio: and again, at ratisbon, in , fol., vols. see fournier's _dict. portat. de bibliographie_, p. . some scarce separately-printed treatises of the same great man are noticed in the first volume of the appendix to bauer's _bibl. libror. rarior._, p. .] [footnote : _anglo-saxon history_, vol. ii., p. , edit. , to.] now, don't imagine, my dear lisardo, that this anguish of heart proceeded from his leaving behind all the woodbines, and apple-trees, and singing birds, which were wont to gratify his senses near the said cell, and which he could readily meet with in another clime!--no, no: this monody is the genuine language of a bibliomaniac, upon being compelled to take a long adieu of his choicest _book-treasures_, stored in some secretly-cut recess of his hermitage; and of which neither his patron, nor his illustrious predecessor, bede, had ever dreamt of the existence of copies! but it is time to think of johannes scotus erigena; the most facetious wag of his times, notwithstanding his sirname of the _wise_. "while great britain (says bale) was a prey to intestine wars, our philosopher was travelling quietly abroad amidst the academic bowers of greece;"[ ] and there i suppose he acquired, with his knowledge of the greek language, a taste for book-collecting and punning.[ ] he was in truth a marvellous man; as we may gather from the eulogy of him by brucker.[ ] [footnote : freely translated from his _script. brytan. illustr._, p. .] [footnote : scot's celebrated reply to his patron and admirer, charles the bald, was first made a popular story, i believe, among the "wise speeches" in _camden's remaines_, where it is thus told: "johannes erigena, surnamed scotus, a man renowned for learning, sitting at the table, in respect of his learning, with charles the bauld, emperor and king of france, behaved himselfe as a slovenly scholler, nothing courtly; whereupon the emperor asked him merrily, _quid interest inter scotum et sotum_? (what is there between a scot and a sot?) he merrily, but yet malapertly answered, '_mensa_'--(the table): as though the emperor were the sot and he the scot." p. . _roger hoveden_ is quoted as the authority; but one would like to know where hoveden got his information, if scotus has not mentioned the anecdote in his own works? since camden's time, this facetious story has been told by almost every historian and annalist.] [footnote : _hist. philosoph._, tom. , : as referred to and quoted by dr. henry; whose account of our book-champion, although less valuable than mackenzie's, is exceedingly interesting.] in his celebrated work upon predestination, he maintained that "material fire is no part of the torments of the damned;"[ ] a very singular notion in those times of frightful superstition, when the minds of men were harrowed into despair by descriptions of hell's torments--and i notice it here merely because i should like to be informed in what curious book the said john scotus erigena acquired the said notion? let us now proceed to alfred; whose bust, i see, adorns that department of lorenzo's library which is devoted to english history. [footnote : "he endeavours to prove, in his logical way, that the torments of the damned are mere privations of the happiness, or the trouble of being deprived of it; so that, according to him, material fire is no part of the torments of the damned; that there is no other fire prepared for them but the fourth element, through which the bodies of all men must pass; but that the bodies of the elect are changed into an ætherial nature, and are not subject to the power of fire: whereas, on the contrary, the bodies of the wicked are changed into air, and suffer torments by the fire, because of their contrary qualities. and for this reason 'tis that the demons, who had a body of an ætherial nature, were massed with a body of air, that they might feel the fire." _mackenzie's scottish writers_: vol. i., . all this may be ingenious enough; of its truth, a future state only will be the evidence. very different from that of scotus is the language of gregory narienzen: "exit in inferno frigus insuperabile: ignis inextinguibilis: vermis immortalis: fetor intollerabilis: tenebræ palpabiles: flagella cedencium: horrenda visio demonum: desperatio omnium bonorum." this i gather from the _speculum christiani_, fol. , printed by machlinia, in the fifteenth century. the idea is enlarged, and the picture aggravated, in a great number of nearly contemporaneous publications, which will be noticed, in part, hereafter. it is reported that some sermons are about to be published, in which the personality of satan is questioned and denied. thus having, by the ingenuity of scotus, got rid of the fire "which is never quenched"--and, by means of modern scepticism, of the devil, who is constantly "seeking whom he may devour," we may go on comfortably enough, without such awkward checks, in the commission of every species of folly and crime!] this great and good man, the boast and the bulwark of his country, was instructed by his mother, from infancy, in such golden rules of virtue and good sense that one feels a regret at not knowing more of the family, early years, and character, of such a parent. as she told him that "a wise and a good man suffered no part of his time, but what is necessarily devoted to bodily exercise, to pass in unprofitable inactivity"--you may be sure that, with such book-propensities as he felt, alfred did not fail to make the most of the fleeting hour. accordingly we find, from his ancient biographer, that he resolutely set to work by the aid of his wax tapers,[ ] and produced some very respectable compositions; for which i refer you to mr. turner's excellent account of their author:[ ] adding only that alfred's translation of boethius is esteemed his most popular performance. [footnote : the story of the _wax tapers_ is related both by asser and william of malmesbury, differing a little in the unessential parts of it. it is this: alfred commanded six wax tapers to be made, each inches in length, and of as many ounces in weight. on these tapers he caused the inches to be regularly marked; and having found that one taper burnt just four hours, he committed them to the care of the keepers of his chapel; who, from time to time gave him notice how the hours went. but as in windy weather the tapers were more wasted--to remedy this inconvenience, he placed them in a kind of lanthorn, there being no glass to be met with in his dominions. this event is supposed to have occurred after alfred had ascended the throne. in his younger days, asser tells us that he used to carry about, in his bosom, day and night, a curiously-written volume of hours, and psalms, and prayers, which by some are supposed to have been the composition of aldhelm. that alfred had the highest opinion of aldhelm, and of his predecessors and contemporaries, is indisputable; for in his famous letter to wulfseg, bishop of london, he takes a retrospective view of the times in which they lived, as affording "churches and monasteries filled with libraries of excellent books in several languages." it is quite clear, therefore, that our great alfred was not a little infected with the bibliomaniacal disease.] [footnote : _the history of the anglo-saxons_; by sharon turner, f.s.a., , to., vols. this is the last and best edition of a work which places mr. turner quite at the head of those historians who have treated of the age of alfred.] after alfred, we may just notice his son edward, and his grandson athelstan; the former of whom is supposed by rous[ ] (one of the most credulous of our early historians) to have founded the university of cambridge. the latter had probably greater abilities than his predecessor; and a thousand pities it is that william of malmesbury should have been so stern and squeamish as not to give us the substance of that old book, containing a life of athelstan--which he discovered, and supposed to be coeval with the monarch--because, forsooth, the account was too uniformly flattering! let me here, however, refer you to that beautiful translation of a saxon ode, written in commemoration of athelstan's decisive victory over the danes of brunamburg, which mr. george ellis has inserted in his interesting volumes of _specimens of the early english poets_:[ ] and always bear in recollection that this monarch shewed the best proof of his attachment to books by employing as many learned men as he could collect together for the purpose of translating the scriptures into his native saxon tongue. [footnote : consult _johannis rossi historia regum angliæ; edit. hearne_, , vo., p. . this passage has been faithfully translated by dr. henry. but let the lover of knotty points in ancient matters look into master henry bynneman's prettily printed impression (a.d. ) of _de antiquitate cantabrigiensis academiæ_, p. --where the antiquity of the university of cambridge is gravely assigned to the æra of gurguntius's reign, a.m. !--nor must we rest satisfied with the ingenious temerity of this author's claims in favour of his beloved cambridge, until we have patiently examined thomas hearne's edition (a.d. ) of _thomæ caii vindic. antiquitat. acad. oxon._: a work well deserving of a snug place in the antiquary's cabinet.] [footnote : edit. , vol. i., p. .] let us pass by that extraordinary scholar, courtier, statesman, and monk--st. dunstan; by observing only that, as he was even more to edgar than wolsey was to henry viii.--so, if there had then been the same love of literature and progress in civilization which marked the opening of the sixteenth century, dunstan would have equalled, if not eclipsed, wolsey in the magnificence and utility of his institutions. how many volumes of legends he gave to the library of glastonbury, of which he was once the abbot, or to canterbury, of which he was afterwards the archbishop, i cannot take upon me to guess: as i have neither of hearne's three publications[ ] relating to glastonbury in my humble library. [footnote : there is an ample catalogue raisonné of these three scarce publications in the first volume of the _british bibliographer_. and to supply the deficiency of any extract from them, in this place, take, kind-hearted reader, the following--which i have gleaned from eadmer's account of st. dunstan, as incorporated in wharton's _anglia-sacra_--and which would not have been inserted could i have discovered any thing in the same relating to book-presents to canterbury cathedral.--"once on a time, the king went a hunting early on sunday morning; and requested the archbishop to postpone the celebration of the mass till he returned. about three hours afterwards, dunstan went into the cathedral, put on his robes, and waited at the altar in expectation of the king--where, reclining with his arms in a devotional posture, he was absorbed in tears and prayers. a gentle sleep suddenly possessed him; he was snatched up into heaven; and in a vision associated with a company of angels, whose harmonious voices, chaunting _kyrie eleyson, kyrie eleyson, kyrie eleyson_, burst upon his ravished ears! he afterwards came to himself, and demanded whether or not the king had arrived? upon being answered in the negative, he betook himself again to his prayers, and, after a short interval, was once more absorbed in celestial extasies, and heard a loud voice from heaven saying--_ite, missa est_. he had no sooner returned thanks to god for the same, when the king's clerical attendants cried out that his majesty had arrived, and entreated dunstan to dispatch the mass. but he, turning from the altar, declared that the mass had been already celebrated; and that no other mass should be performed during that day. having put off his robes, he enquired of his attendants into the truth of the transaction; who told him what had happened. then, assuming a magisterial power, he prohibited the king, in future, from hunting on a sunday; and taught his disciples the _kyrie eleyson_, which he had heard in heaven: hence this ejaculation, in many places, now obtains as a part of the mass service." tom. ii., p. . what shall we say to "the amiable and elegant eadmer" for this valuable piece of biographical information?--"the face of things was so changed by the endeavours of dunstan, and his master, ethelwald, that in a short time learning was generally restored, and began to flourish. from this period, the monasteries were the schools and seminaries of almost the whole clergy, both secular and regular." collier's _eccles. history_, vol. ii., p. , col. . that glastonbury had many and excellent books, vide hearne's _antiquities of glastonbury_; pp. lxxiv-vii. at cambridge there is a catalogue of the mss. which were in glastonbury library, a.d. .] we may open the eleventh century with canute; upon whose political talents this is not the place to expatiate: but of whose bibliomaniacal character the illuminated ms. of _the four gospels_ in the danish tongue--now in the british museum, and once this monarch's own book--leaves not the shadow of a doubt! from canute we may proceed to notice that extraordinary literary triumvirate--ingulph, lanfranc, and anselm. no rational man can hesitate about numbering them among the very first rate book-collectors of that age. as to ingulph, let us only follow him, in his boyhood, in his removal from school to college: let us fancy we see him, with his _quatuor sermones_ on a sunday--and his _cunabula artis grammaticæ_[ ] on a week day--under his arm: making his obeisance to edgitha, the queen of edward the confessor, and introduced by her to william duke of normandy! again, when he was placed, by this latter at the head of the rich abbey of croyland, let us fancy we see him both adding to, and arranging, its curious library[ ]--before he ventured upon writing the history of the said abbey. from ingulph we go to lanfranc; who, in his earlier years, gratified his book appetites in the quiet and congenial seclusion of his little favourite abbey in normandy: where he afterwards opened a school, the celebrity of which was acknowledged throughout europe. from being a pedagogue, let us trace him in his virtuous career to the primacy of england; and when we read of his studious and unimpeachable behaviour, as head of the see of canterbury,[ ] let us acknowledge that a love of books and of mental cultivation is among the few comforts in this world of which neither craft nor misfortune can deprive us. to lanfranc succeeded, in book-fame and in professional elevation, his disciple anselm; who was "lettered and chaste of his childhood," says trevisa:[ ] but who was better suited to the cloister than to the primacy. for, although, like wulston, bishop of worcester, he might have "sung a long mass, and held him _apayred_ with only the offering of christian men, and was holden a clean _mayde_, and did no outrage in drink,"[ ] yet in his intercourse with william ii. and henry i., he involved himself in ceaseless quarrels; and quitted both his archiepiscopal chair and the country. his memory, however, is consecrated among the fathers of scholastic divinity. [footnote : these were the common school books of the period.] [footnote : though the abbey of croyland was burnt only twenty-five years after the conquest, its library then consisted of volumes, of which were very large. the lovers of english history and antiquities are much indebted to ingulph for his excellent history of the abbey of croyland, from its foundation, a.d. , to a.d. : into which he hath introduced much of the general history of the kingdom, with a variety of curious anecdotes that are no where else to be found. dr. henry: book iii., chap. iv., § and . but ingulph merits a more particular eulogium. the editors of that stupendous, and in truth, matchless collection of national history, entitled _recueil des historiens des gaules_, thus say of him: "il avoit tout vu en bon connoisseur, et ce qu'il rapporte, il l'écrit en homme lettré, judicieux et vrai:" tom. xi., p. xlij. in case any reader of this note and lover of romance literature should happen to be unacquainted with the french language, i will add, from the same respectable authority, that "the readers of the _round table history_ should be informed that there are many minute and curious descriptions in ingulph which throw considerable light upon the history of _ancient chivalry_." ibid. see too the animated eulogy upon him, at p. , note _a_, of the same volume. these learned editors have, however, forgotten to notice that the best, and only perfect, edition of ingulph's history of croyland abbey, with the continuation of the same, by peter de blois and edward abbas, is that which is inserted in the first volume of gale's _rerum anglicarum scriptores veteres_: oxon, . ( vols.)] [footnote : lanfranc was obliged, against his will, by the express command of abbot harlein, to take upon him the archbishopric in the year . he governed that church for nineteen years together, with a great deal of wisdom and authority. his largest work is a commentary upon the epistles of st. paul; which is sometimes not very faithfully quoted by peter lombard. his treatise in favour of the real presence, in opposition to birenger, is one of his most remarkable performances. his letters "are short and few, but contain in them things very remarkable." du pin's _ecclesiastical history_, vol. xi., p. , &c., edit. .] [footnote : _polychronicon_, caxton's edit., sign. , rev.] [footnote : _polychronicon._ caxton's edit., fol. cccvj. rev. poor caxton (towards whom the reader will naturally conceive i bear some little affection) is thus dragooned into the list of naughty writers who have ventured to speak mildly (and justly) of anselm's memory. "they feign in another fable that he (anselm) tare with his teeth christ's flesh from his bones, as he hung on the rood, for withholding the lands of certain bishoprics and abbies: polydorus not being ashamed to rehearse it. somewhere they call him a red dragon: somewhere a fiery serpent, and a bloody tyrant; for occupying the fruits of their vacant benefices about his princely buildings. thus rail they of their kings, without either reason or shame, in their legends of abominable lies: look eadmerus, helinandus, vincentius, matthew of westminster, rudborne, capgrave, william caxton, polydore, and others." this is the language of master bale, in his _actes of englyshe votaryes_, pt. ii., sign. i. vij. rev. tisdale's edit. no wonder hearne says of the author, "erat immoderata intemperantia."--_bened. abbas._, vol. i., præf. p. xx.] and here you may expect me to notice that curious book-reader and collector, girald, _archbishop of york_, who died just at the close of the th century. let us fancy we see him, according to trevisa,[ ] creeping quietly to his garden arbour, and devoting his midnight vigils to the investigation of that old-fashioned author, julius firmicus; whom fabricius calls by a name little short of that of an old woman. it is a pity we know not more of the private studies of such a bibliomaniac. and equally to be lamented it is that we have not some more substantial biographical memoirs of that distinguished bibliomaniac, herman, bishop of salisbury; a norman by birth; and who learnt the art of book-binding and book-illumination, before he had been brought over into this country by william the conqueror.[ ] (a character, by the bye, who, however completely hollow were his claims to the crown of england, can never be reproached with a backwardness in promoting learned men to the several great offices of church and state.) [footnote : "this yere deyd thomas archbisohop of york and gyralde was archebishop after him; a lecherous man, a wytch and euyl doer, as the fame tellyth, for under his pyle whan he deyde in an erber was founde a book of curyous craftes, the book hight julius frumeus. in that booke he radde pryuely in the under tydes, therefor unnethe the clerkes of his chirche would suffre him be buryed under heuene without hooly chirche," _polychronicon: caxton's edit._, sign. ., rect. (fol. cccxlij.) godwyn says that "he was laide at the entrance of the church porch." "bayle chargeth him (continues he) with sorcery and coniuration, because, forsooth, that, after his death, there was found in his chamber a volume of firmicus: who writ of astrology indeed, but of coniuration nothing that ever i heard." _catalogue of the bishops of england_, p. --edit. . concerning girard's favourite author, consult fabricius's _bibl. lat.: cura ernesti_, vol. iii., p. , &c., edit. .] [footnote : leland tells us that herman erected "a noble library at sailsbury, having got together some of the best and most ancient works of illustrious authors:" _de scriptor. britan._, vol. i., : and dugdale, according to warton (_monasticon anglican._; vol. iii., p. ), says that "he was so fond of letters that he did not disdain to bind and illuminate books."] loren. if you proceed thus systematically, my good lysander, the morning cock will crow 'ere we arrive at the book-annals even of the reformation. lysand. it is true; i am proceeding rather too methodically. and yet i suppose i should not obtain lisardo's forgiveness if, in arriving at the period of henry the second,[ ] i did not notice that extraordinary student and politician, becket! [footnote : i make no apology to the reader for presenting him with the following original character of our once highly and justly celebrated monarch, henry ii.--by the able pen of trevisa. "this henry ii. was somewhat reddish, with large face and breast; and yellow eyen and a dim voice; and fleshy of body; and took but scarcely of meat and drink: and for to _alledge_ the fatness, he travailed his body with business; with hunting, with standing, with wandering: he was of mean stature, renable of speech, and well y lettered; noble and _orped_ in knighthood; and wise in counsel and in battle; and dread and doubtfull destiny; more manly and courteous to a knight when he was dead than when he was alive!" _polychronicon_, caxton's edit., fol. cccliij., rev.] lis. at your peril omit him! i think (although my black-letter reading be very limited) that bale, in his _english votaries_, has a curious description of this renowned archbishop; whose attachment to books, in his boyish years, must on all sides be admitted. lysand. you are right. bale has some extraordinary strokes of description in his account of this canonized character: but if i can trust to my memory (which the juice of lorenzo's nectar, here before us, may have somewhat impaired), tyndale[ ] has also an equally animated account of the same--who deserves, notwithstanding his pomp and haughtiness, to be numbered among the most notorious bibliomaniacs of his age. [footnote : we will first amuse ourselves with bale's curious account of "_the fresh and lusty beginnings of_ thomas becket." as those authors report, which chiefly wrote thomas becket's life--whose names are herbert boseham, john salisbury, william of canterbury, alen of tewkesbury, benet of peterborough, stephen langton, and richard croyland--he bestoyed his youth in all kinds of lascivious lightness, and lecherous wantonness. after certain robberies, rapes, and murders, committed in the king's wars at the siege of toulouse in languedoc, and in other places else, as he was come home again into england, he gave himself to great study, not of the holy scriptures, but of the bishop of rome's lousy laws, whereby he first of all obtained to be archdeacon of canterbury, under theobald the archbishop; then high chancellor of england; metropolitan, archbishop, primate; pope of england, and great legate from antichrist's own right side. in the time of his high-chancellorship, being but an ale-brewer's son of london, john capgrave saith that he took upon him as he had been a prince. he played the courtier altogether, and fashioned himself wholly to the king's delights. he ruffled it out in the whole cloth with a mighty rabble of disguised ruffians at his tail. he sought the worldly honour with him that sought it most. he thought it a pleasant thing to have the flattering praises of the multitude. his bridle was of silver, his saddle of velvet, his stirrups, spurs, and bosses double gilt; his expenses far passing the expenses of an earl. that delight was not on the earth that he had not plenty of. he fed with the fattest, was clad with the softest, and kept company with the plesantest. was not this (think you) a good mean to live chaste? i trow it was. _englyshe votaryes_, pt. ii., sign. p. vi. rect. printed by tisdale, vo. the orthography is modernized, but the words are faithfully _balëan_! thus writes tyndale: and the king made him (becket) his chancellor, in which office he passed the pomp and pride of thomas (wolsey) cardinal, as far as the ones shrine passeth the others tomb in glory and riches. and after that, he was a man of war, and captain of five or six thousand men in full harness, as bright as st. george, and his spear in his hand; and encountered whatsoever came against him, and overthrew the jollyest rutter that was in the host of france. and out of the field, hot from bloodshedding, was he made bishop of canterbury; and did put off his helm, and put on his mitre; put off his harness, and on with his robes; and laid down his spear, and took his cross ere his hands were cold; and so came, with a lusty courage of a man of war, to fight an other while against his prince for the pope; when his prince's cause were with the law of god, and the pope's clean contrary. _practise of popish prelates._ _tyndale's works_, edit. , p. . the curious bibliographer, or collector of ancient books of biography, will find a very different character of becket in a scarce latin life of him, printed at paris in the black letter, in the fifteenth century. his archiepiscopal table is described as being distinguished for great temperance and propriety: "in ejus mensa non audiebantur tibicines non cornicines, non lira, non fiala, non karola: nulla quidem præterquam mundam splendidam et inundantem epularum opulentiam. nulla gule, nulla lascivie, nulla penitus luxurie, videbantur incitamenta. revera inter tot et tantas delicias quæ ei apponebantur, in nullo penitus sardanapalum sed solum episcopum sapiebat," &c. _vita et processus sancti thome cantuariensis martyris super libertate ecclesiastica_; paris, , sign. b. ij. rect. from a yet earlier, and perhaps the first printed, mention of becket--and from a volume of which no perfect copy has yet been found--the reader is presented with a very curious account of the murder of the archbishop, in its original dress. "than were there iiij. cursed knyghtes of leuyng yt thoughte to haue had a grete thanke of the kyng and mad her a vowe to gedir to sle thomas. and so on childremasse day all moste at nyghte they come to caunterbury into thomas hall sire reynolde beriston, sire william tracy, sire richard breton, and sire hewe morley. thanne sire reynolde beriston for he was bitter of kynde a none he seyde to thomas the king that is be yonde the see sente us to the and bad that thou shuldst asoyle the bishoppe that thou cursiddiste than seyde thomas seris they be not acursed by me but by the pope and i may not asoyle that he hathe cursid well seyde reynolde than we see thou wolte not do the kynges byddynge and swore a grete othe by the eyon of god thou shalt be dede. than cryde the othir knyghtes sle sle and they wente downe to the courte and armyd hem. than prestis and clerkis drowe hem to the church to thomas and spered the dores to hem. but whan thomas herde the knyghtes armed and wold come into the churche and myghte not he wente to the dore and un barred it and toke one of the knyghtes by the honde and seyde hit be semyth not to make a castell of holy churche, and toke hem by the honde and seyde come ynne my children in goddis name thanne for it was myrke that they myghte not see nor knowe thomas they seyde where is the traytour nay seyde thomas no traytour but archebishoppe. than one seyde to hym fle fore thou arte but dede. nay seyde thomas y come not to fle but to a byde ego pro deo mori paratus sum et pro defensione iusticie et ecclesie libertate i am redy to dye for the loue of god and for the fredomme and righte of holy churche than reynold with his swerdes poynte put off thomas cappe and smote at his hede and cutte of his crowne that it honge by like a dysche than smote anothir at him and smote hit all of than fill he downe to the grounde on his knees and elbowes and seyde god into thy hondes i putte my cause and the righte of holy churche and so deyde than the iij knyghte smote and his halfe stroke fell upon his clerkis arme that helde thomas cross be fore him and so his swerde fill down to the grounde and brake of the poynte and he seyde go we hens he is dede. and when they were all at the dore goyng robert broke wente a geyne and sette his fote to thomas necke and thruste out the brayne upon the pauement thus for righte of holoye churche and the lawe of the londe thomas toke his dethe." _the boke that is callid festiuall_; , fol. sign. m. iij. these anecdotes, which are not to be found in lyttleton or berrington, may probably be gratifying to the curious.] although i wish to be as laconic as possible in my _catalogue raisonné_ of libraries and of book-collectors, during the earlier periods of our history, yet i must beg to remind you that some of the nunneries and monasteries, about these times, contained rather valuable collections of books: and indeed those of glasgow, peterborough, and glastonbury,[ ] deserve to be particularly noticed and commended. but i will push on with the personal history of literature, or rather of the bibliomania. [footnote : "i shall retire back to _godstowe_, and, for the farther reputation of the nunns there, shall observe that they spent a great part of their time in reading good books. there was a common library for their use well furnished with books, many of which were english, and divers of them historical. the lives of the holy men and women, especially of the latter, were curiously written on vellum, and many illuminations appeared throughout, so as to draw the nunns the more easily to follow their examples." hearne's edit. _guil. neubrig._, vol. ii., p. . again he says, "it is probable they (certain sentences) were written in large letters, equal to the writing that we have in the finest books of offices, the best of which were for the use of the nunns, and for persons of distinction, and such as had weak eyes; and many of them were finely covered, not unlike the kiver for the gospell book, given to the chapell of glastonbury by king ina." p. . can the enlightened reader want further proof of the existence of the bibliomania in the nunnery of godstow? as to _peterborough_ abbey, gunston, in his history of the same place, has copied the catalogue of the different libraries belonging to the abbots. benedict, who became abbot in , had a collection of no less than _fifty-seven_ volumes. but alas! the book reputation of this monastery soon fell away: for master robert, who died abbot in , left but _seven_ books behind him; and geoffrey de croyland, who was abbot in , had only that dreary old gentleman, _avicenna_, to keep him company! at its dissolution, however, it contained volumes in mss. _gunton's peterborough_, p. . _glastonbury_ seems to have long maintained its reputation for a fine library; and even as late as the year it could boast of several classical authors, although the english books were only four in number; the rest being considered as "vetustas et inutilia." the classical authors were livy, sallust, tully, seneca, virgil, and persius. see _joh. confrat. glaston._, vol. ii., p. , : hearne's edit. "leland," says warton, "who visited all the monasteries just before their dissolution, seems to have been struck with the venerable air and amplitude of this library." _hist. engl. poetry_, diss. ii.] i should be wanting in proper respect to the gentlemanly and scholar-like editor of his works, if i omitted the mention of that celebrated tourist and topographer, girald barri, or giraldus cambrensis; whose irish and welch itinerary has been recently so beautifully and successfully put forth in our own language.[ ] giraldus, long before and after he was bishop of st. david's, seems to have had the most enthusiastic admiration of british antiquities; and i confess it would have been among the keenest delights of my existence (had i lived at the period) to have been among his auditors when he read aloud (perhaps from a stone pulpit) his three books of the topography of ireland.[ ] how many choice volumes, written and emblazoned upon snow-white vellum, and containing many a curious and precious genealogy, must this observing traveller and curious investigator have examined, when he was making the tour of ireland in the suite of prince, afterwards king, john! judge of the anxiety of certain antiquated families, especially of the welch nation, which stimulated them to open their choicest treasures, in the book way, to gratify the genealogical ardour of our tourist! [footnote : there is a supplemental volume to the two english ones, containing the only complete latin edition extant of the welsh itinerary. of this impression there are but copies printed on small, and on large, paper. the whole work is most creditably executed, and does great honour to the taste and erudition of its editor, sir richard colt hoare, bart.] [footnote : "having finished his topography of ireland, which consisted of three books, he published it at oxford, a.d. , in the following manner, in three days. on the first day he read the first book to a great concourse of people, and afterwards entertained all the poor of the town. on the second day he read the second book, and entertained all the doctors and chief scholars: and on the third day he read the third book, and entertained the younger scholars, soldiers, and burgesses."--"a most glorious spectacle (says he), which revived the ancient times of the poets, and of which no example had been seen in england." this is given by dr. henry (b. iii., ch. , § ), on the authority of giraldus's own book, _de rebus a se gestis_, lib. i. c. . twyne, in his arid little quarto latin volume of the _antiquities of oxford_, says not a word about it; and, what is more extraordinary, it is barely alluded to by antony wood! see mr. gutch's genuine edition of wood's _annals of the university of oxford_, vol. i., pp. , . warton, in his _history of english poetry_, vol. i., diss. ii., notices giraldus's work with his usual taste and interest.] lis. i wish from my heart that girald barri had been somewhat more communicative on this head! loren. of what do you suppose he would have informed us, had he indulged this bibliographical gossipping? lis. of many a grand and many a curious volume. lysand. not exactly so, lisardo. the art of book-illumination in this country was then sufficiently barbarous, if at all known. lis. and yet i'll lay a vellum aldus that henry the second presented his fair rosamond with some choice _heures de notre dame_! but proceed. i beg pardon for this interruption. lysand. nay, there is nothing to solicit pardon for! we have each a right, around this hospitable table, to indulge our book whims: and mine may be as fantastical as any. loren. pray proceed, lysander, in your book-collecting history! unless you will permit me to make a pause or interruption of two minutes--by proposing as a sentiment--"success to the bibliomania!" phil. 'tis well observed: and as every loyal subject at our great taverns drinks the health of his sovereign "with three times three up-standing," even so let us hail this sentiment of lorenzo! lis. philemon has cheated me of an eloquent speech. but let us receive the sentiment as he proposes it. loren. now the uproar of bacchus has subsided, the instructive conversation of minerva may follow. go on, lysander. lysand. having endeavoured to do justice to girald barri, i know of no other particularly distinguished bibliomaniac till we approach the æra of the incomparable roger, or friar, bacon. i say incomparable, lorenzo; because he was, in truth, a constellation of the very first splendour and magnitude in the dark times in which he lived; and notwithstanding a sagacious writer (if my memory be not treacherous) of the name of coxe, chooses to tell us that he was "miserably starved to death, because he could not introduce a piece of roast beef into his stomach, on account of having made a league with satan to eat only cheese;"[ ]--yet i suspect that the end of bacon was hastened by other means more disgraceful to the age and equally painful to himself. [footnote : "_a short treatise declaringe the detestable wickednesse of magicall sciences, as necromancie, coniuration of spirites, curiouse astrologie, and suche lyke, made by_ francis coxe." printed by allde, mo., without date ( leaves). from this curious little volume, which is superficially noticed by herbert (vol. ii., p. ), the reader is presented with the following extract, appertaining to the above subject: "i myself (says the author) knew a priest not far from a town called bridgewater, which, as it is well known in the country, was a great magician in all his life time. after he once began these practices, he would never eat bread, but, instead thereof, did always eat _cheese_: which thing, as he confessed divers times, he did because it was so concluded betwixt him and the spirit which served him," &c. sign. a viii. rect. "(r.) bacon's end was much after _the like sort_; for having a greedy desire unto meat, he could cause nothing to enter the stomach--wherefore thus miserably he starved to death." sign. b. iij. rev. not having at hand john dee's book of the defence of roger bacon, from the charge of astrology and magic (the want of which one laments as pathetically as did naudé, in his "_apologie pour tous les grands personnages, &c., faussement soupçonnez de magic_," haye, , vo., p. ), i am at a loss to say the fine things, which dee must have said, in commendation of the extraordinary talents of roger bacon; who was miserably matched in the age in which he lived; but who, together with his great patron grosteste, will shine forth as beacons to futurity. dr. friend in his _history of physic_ has enumerated what he conceived to be bacon's leading works; while gower in his _confessio amantis_ (caxton's edit., fol. ), has mentioned the brazen head-- =for to telle of such thyngs as befelle:= which was the joint manufactory of the patron and his èleve. as lately as the year , bacon's life formed the subject of a "famous history," from which walter scott has given us a facetious anecdote in the seventh volume (p. ) of _dryden's works_. but the curious investigator of ancient times, and the genuine lover of british biography, will seize upon the more prominent features in the life of this renowned philosopher; will reckon up his great discoveries in optics and physics; and will fancy, upon looking at the above picture of his study, that an explosion from gun-powder (of which our philosopher has been thought the inventor) has protruded the palings which are leaning against its sides. bacon's "_opus majus_," which happened to meet the eyes of pope clement iv., and which _now_ would have encircled the neck of its author with an hundred golden chains, and procured for him a diploma from every learned society in europe--just served to liberate him from his first long imprisonment. this was succeeded by a subsequent confinement of twelve years; from which he was released only time enough to breathe his last in the pure air of heaven. whether he expended , or , pounds of our present money, upon his experiments, can now be only matter of conjecture. those who are dissatisfied with the meagre manner in which our early biographers have noticed the labours of roger bacon, and with the _tetragonistical_ story, said by twyne to be propagated by our philosopher, of julius cæsar's seeing the whole of the british coast and encampment upon the gallic shore, "maximorum ope speculorum" (_antiquit. acad. oxon. apolog._ , to., p. ), may be pleased with the facetious story told of him by wood (_annals of oxford_, vol. i., , gutch's edit.) and yet more by the minute catalogue of his works noticed by bishop tanner (_bibl. brit. hibern._ p. ): while the following eulogy of old tom fuller cannot fail to find a passage to every heart: "for mine own part (says this delightful and original writer) i behold the name of bacon in oxford, not as of an individual man, but corporation of men; no single cord, but a twisted cable of many together. and as all the acts of strong men of that nature are attributed to an hercules; all the predictions of prophecying women to a sibyll; so i conceive all the achievements of the oxonian bacons, in their liberal studies, are ascribed to one, as chief of the name." _church history_, book iii., p. .] [illustration] only let us imagine we see this sharp-eyed philosopher at work in his study, of which yonder print is generally received as a representation! how heedlessly did he hear the murmuring of the stream beneath, and of the winds without--immersed in the vellum and parchment rolls of theological, astrological, and mathematical lore, which, upon the dispersion of the libraries of the jews,[ ] he was constantly perusing, and of which so large a share had fallen to his own lot! [footnote : warton, in his second dissertation, says that "great multitudes of their (the jews) books fell into the hands of roger bacon;" and refers to wood's _hist. et antiquit. univ. oxon._, vol. i., , --where i find rather a slight notification of it--but, in the genuine edition of this latter work, published by mr. gutch, vol. i., p. , it is said: "at their (the jews) expulsion, divers of their tenements that were forfeited to the king, came into the hands of william burnell, provost of wells; and _their books_ (for many of them were learned) to divers of our scholars; among whom, as is verily supposed, roger bacon was one: and that he furnished himself with such hebrew rarities, that he could not elsewhere find. also that, when he died, he left them to the franciscan library at oxon, which, being not well understood in after-times, were condemned to moths and dust!" weep, weep, kind-hearted bibliomaniac, when thou thinkest upon the fate of these poor hebrew mss.!] unfortunately, my friends, little is known with certainty, though much is vaguely conjectured, of the labours of this great man. some of the first scholars and authors of our own and of other countries have been proud to celebrate his praises; nor would it be considered a disgrace by the most eminent of modern experimental philosophers--of him, who has been described as "unlocking the hidden treasures of nature, and explaining the various systems by which air, and earth, and fire, and water, counteract and sustain each other"[ ]--to fix the laureate crown round the brows of our venerable bacon! [footnote : see a periodical paper, entitled _the director_! vol. ii., p. .] we have now reached the close of the thirteenth century and the reign of edward the first;[ ] when the principal thing that strikes us, connected with the history of libraries, is this monarch's insatiable lust of strengthening his title to the kingdom of scotland by purchasing "the libraries of all the monasteries" for the securing of any record which might corroborate the same. what he gave for this tremendous book-purchase, or of what nature were the volumes purchased, or what was their subsequent destination, is a knot yet remaining to be untied. [footnote : "king edward the first caused and committed divers copies of the records, and much concerning the realm of scotland, unto divers abbies for the preservance thereof; which for the most part are now perished, or rare to be had; and which privilie by the dissolution of monasteries is detained. the same king caused the libraries of all monasteries, and other places of the realm, to be purchased, for the further and manifest declaration of his title, as chief lord of scotland: and the record thereof now extant, doth alledge divers leger books of abbeys for the confirmation thereof": petition (to q. elizabeth) for an academy of antiquities and history. _hearne's curious discourses written by eminent antiquaries_; vol. ii., , edit. .] of the bibliomaniacal propensity of edward's grandson, the great edward the third, there can be no question. indeed, i could gossip away upon the same 'till midnight. his severe disappointment upon having froissart's presentation copy of his chronicles[ ] (gergeously [transcriber's note: gorgeously] attired as it must have been) taken from him by the duke of anjou, is alone a sufficient demonstration of his love of books; while his patronage of chaucer shews that he had accurate notions of intellectual excellence. printing had not yet begun to give any hint, however faint, of its wonderful powers; and scriveners or book-copiers were sufficiently ignorant and careless.[ ] [footnote : whether this presentation copy ever came, eventually, into the kingdom, is unknown. mr. johnes, who is as intimate with froissart as gough was with camden, is unable to make up his mind upon the subject; but we may suppose it was properly emblazoned, &c. the duke detained it as being the property of an enemy to france!--now, when we read of this wonderfully chivalrous age, so glowingly described by the great gaston, count de foix, to master froissart, upon their introduction to each other (vide st. palaye's memoir in the th vol. of _l'acadamie des inscriptions_, &c.), it does seem a gross violation (at least on the part of the monsieur of france!) of all gentlemanly and knight-like feeling, to seize upon a volume of this nature, as legitimate plunder! the robber should have had his skin tanned, after death, for a case to keep the book in! of edward the third's love of curiously bound books, see p. , ante.] [footnote : "how ordinary a fault this was (of 'negligently or willfully altering copies') amongst the transcribers of former times, may appear by chaucer; who (i am confident) tooke as greate care as any man to be served with the best and heedfullest scribes, and yet we finde him complayning against adam, his scrivener, for the very same: so ofte a daye i mote thy worke renew, if to correct and eke to rubbe and scrape, and all is thorow thy neglegence and rape." ashmole _theatrum chemicum_; p. .] the mention of edward the third, as a patron of learned men, must necessarily lead a book-antiquary to the notice of his eminent chancellor, richard de bury; of whom, as you may recollect, some slight mention was made the day before yesterday.[ ] it is hardly possible to conceive a more active and enthusiastic lover of books than was this extraordinary character; the passion never deserting him even while he sat upon the bench.[ ] it was probably de bury's intention to make his royal master eclipse his contemporary charles the vth, of france--the most renowned foreign bibliomaniac of his age![ ] in truth, my dear friends, what can be more delightful to a lover of his country's intellectual reputation than to find such a character as de bury, in such an age of war and bloodshed, uniting the calm and mild character of a legislator, with the sagacity of a philosopher, and the elegant-mindedness of a scholar! foreigners have been profuse in their commendations of him, and with the greatest justice; while our thomas warton, of ever-to-be-respected memory, has shewn us how pleasingly he could descend from the graver tone of a historical antiquary, by indulging himself in a chit-chat style of book-anecdote respecting this illustrious character.[ ] [footnote : see p. , ante.] [footnote : "--patescebat nobis aditus facilis, regalis favoris intuitu, ad librorum latebras libere perscrutandas. amoris quippe nostri fama volatilis jam ubique percrebuit, tamtumque librorum, et maxime veterum, ferebamur cupiditate languescere; posse vero quemlibet, nostrum _per quaternos_ facilius, quam _per pecuniam_, adipisci favorem." _philobiblion; sive de amore librorum_ (vide p. , ante), p. : edit. , to. but let the reader indulge me with another extract or two, containing evidence [transcriber's note: 'of' missing in original] the most unquestionable of the severest symptoms of the bibliomania that ever assailed a lord chancellor or a bishop!--magliabechi must have read the ensuing passage with rapture: "quamobrem cum prædicti principis recolendæ memoriæ bonitate suffulti, possemus obesse et prodesse, officere et proficere vehementer tam maioribus quam pusillis; affluxerunt, loco xeniorum et munerum, locoque, donorum et iocalium, temulenti quaterni, ac decripiti codices; nostris tamen tam affectibus, quam aspectibus, pretiosi. tunc nobilissimorum monasteriorum aperiebantur armaria, referebantur scrinia, et cistulæ solvebantur, et per longa secula in sepulchris soporata volumina, expergiscunt attonita, quæque in locis tenebrosis latuerant, novæ lucis radiis perfunduntur." "delicatissimi quondam libri, corrupti et abhominabiles iam effecti, murium fætibus cooperti, et vermium morsibus terebrati, iacebant exanimes--et qui olim purpura vestiebantur et bysso, nunc in cinere et cilicio recubantes, oblivioni traditi videbantur, domicilia tinearum. inter hæc nihilominus, captatis temporibus, magis voluptuose consedimus, quam fecisset medicus delicatus inter aromatum apothecas, ubi amoris nostri objectum reperimus et fomentum; sic sacra vasa scientiæ, ad nostræ dispensationis provenerunt arbitrium: quædam data, quædam vendita, ac nonnulla protempore commodata. nimirum cum nos plerique de hujusmodi donariis cernerent contentatos, ea sponte nostris usibus studuerent tribuere, quibus ipsi libentius caruerunt: quorum tamen negotia sic expedire curavimus gratiosi, ut et eisdem emolumentum accresceret, nullum tamen iustitia detrimentum sentiret." "porro si scyphos aureos et argenteos, si equos egregios, si nummorum summas non modicas amassemus tunc temporis, dives nobis ærarium instaurasse possemus: sed revera libros non libras maluimus, codicesque plusquam florenos, ac panfletos exiguos incrassatis prætulimus palfridis," _philobiblion_; p. , , &c. dr. james's preface to this book, which will be noticed in its proper place, in another work, is the veriest piece of old maidenish particularity that ever was exhibited! however, the editor's enthusiastic admiration of de bury obtains his forgiveness in the bosom of every honest bibliomaniac!] [footnote : charles the fifth, of france, may be called the founder of the royal library there. the history of his first efforts to erect a national library is thus, in part, related by the compilers of _cat. de la bibliothéque royale_, pt. i., p. ij.-iij.: "this wise king took advantage of the peace which then obtained, in order to cultivate letters more successfully than had hitherto been done. he was learned for his age; and never did a prince love reading and book-collecting better than did he! he was not only constantly making transcripts himself, but the noblemen, courtiers, and officers that surrounded him voluntarily tendered their services in the like cause; while, on the other hand, a number of learned men, seduced by his liberal rewards, spared nothing to add to his literary treasures. charles now determined to give his subjects every possible advantage from this accumulation of books; and, with this view, he lodged them in one of the _towers of the louvre_; which tower was hence called _la tour de la librarie_. the books occupied three stories: in the first, were desposited volumes; in the second ; and in the third, volumes. in order to preserve them with the utmost care (say sauval and felibien), the king caused all the windows of the library to be fortified with iron bars; between which was painted glass, secured by brass-wires. and that the books might be accessible at all hours, there were suspended, from the ceiling, thirty chandeliers and a silver lamp, which burnt all night long. the walls were wainscotted with irish wood; and the ceiling was covered with cypress wood: the whole being curiously sculptured in bas-relief." whoever has not this catalogue at hand (vide p. , ante) to make himself master of still further curious particulars relating to this library, may examine the first and second volume of _l'academie des inscriptions_, &c.--from which the preceding account is taken. the reader may also look into warton (diss. , vol. i., sign. f. ); who adds, on the authority of boivin's _mem. lit._, tom. ii., p. , that the duke of bedford, regent of france, "in the year (when the english became masters of paris) sent his whole library, then consisting of only volumes, and valued at livres, into england," &c. i have little doubt but that richard de bury had a glimpse of this infantine royal collection, from the following passage--which occurs immediately after an account of his ambassadorial excursion--"o beate deus deorum in syon, quantus impetus fluminis voluptatis lætificavit cor nostrum, quoties paradisum mundi _parisios_ visitare vacavimus ibi moraturi? ubi nobis semper dies pauci, præ amoris magnitudine, videbantur. ibi bibliothecæ jucundæ super sellas aromatum redolentes; ibi virens viridarium universorum voluminum," &c. _philobiblion_; p. , edit. .] [footnote : after having intruded, i fear, by the preceding note respecting _french bibliomania_, there is only room left to say of our de bury--that he was the friend and correspondent of petrarch--and that mons. sade, in his _memoirs of petrarch_, tells us that "the former did in england, what the latter all his life was doing in france, italy, and germany, towards the discovery of the best ancient writers, and making copies of them under his own superintendence." de bury bequeathed a valuable library of mss. to durham, now trinity college, oxford. the books of this library were first packed up in chests; but upon the completion of the room to receive them, "they were put into pews or studies, and chained to them." wood's _history of the university of oxford_, vol. ii., p. . gutch's edit. de bury's _philobiblion_, from which so much has been extracted, is said by morhof to "savor somewhat of the rudeness of the age, but is rather elegantly written; and many things are well expressed in it relating to bibliothecism." _polyhist. literar._, vol. i., . the real author is supposed to have been robert holcott, a dominican friar. i am, however, loth to suppress a part of what warton has so pleasantly written (as above alluded to by lysander) respecting such a favourite as de bury. "richard de bury, otherwise called richard aungervylle, is said to have alone possessed more books than all the bishops of england together. beside the fixed libraries which he had formed in his several palaces, the floor of his common apartment was so covered with books that those who entered could not with due reverence approach his presence. he kept binders, illuminators, and writers, in his palaces. petrarch says that he had once a conversation with him, concerning the island called by the ancients thule; calling him 'virum ardentis ingenii.' while chancellor and treasurer, instead of the usual presents and new-year's gifts appendant to his office, he chose to receive those perquisites in books. by the favour of edward iii. he gained access to the libraries of most of the capital monasteries; where he shook off the dust from volumes, preserved in chests and presses, which had not been opened for many ages." _philobiblion_, cap. , .--warton also quotes, in english, a part of what had been already presented to the reader in its original latin form. _hist. engl. poetry_, vol. i., diss. ii., note g., sign. h. . prettily painted as is this picture, by warton, the colouring might have been somewhat heightened, and the effect rendered still more striking, in consequence, if the authority and the words of godwyn had been a little attended to. in this latter's _catalogue of the bishops of england_, p. - , edit. , we find that de bury was the son of one sir richard angaruill, knight: "that he saith of himselfe 'exstatico quodam librorum amore potenter se abreptum'--that he was mightily carried away, and even beside himself, with immoderate love of bookes and desire of reading. he had alwaies in his house many chaplaines, all great schollers. his manner was, at dinner and supper-time, to haue some good booke read unto him, whereof he would discourse with his chaplaines a great part of the day following, if busines interrupted not his course. he was very bountiful unto the poore. weekely he bestowed for their reliefe, quarters of wheat made into bread, beside the offall and fragments of his tables. riding betweene newcastle and durham he would give _l._ in almes; from durham to stocton, _l._: from durham to aukland, marks; from durham to middleham, _l._" &c. this latter is the "pars melior" of every human being; and bibliomaniacs seem to have possessed it as largely as any other tribe of mortals. i have examined richardson's magnificent reprint of godwyn's book, in the latin tongue, london, , folio; p. ; and find nothing worth adding to the original text.] loren. the task we have imposed upon you, my good lysander, would be severe indeed if you were to notice, with minute exactness, all the book-anecdotes of the middle ages. you have properly introduced the name and authority of warton; but if you suffered yourself to be beguiled by his enchanting style, into all the bibliographical gossiping of this period, you would have no mercy upon your lungs, and there would be no end to the disquisition. lysand. forgive me, if i have transgressed the boundaries of good sense or good breeding: it was not my intention to make a "_concio ad aulam_"--as worthy old bishop saunderson was fond of making--but simply to state facts, or indulge in book chit-chat, as my memory served me. lis. nay, lorenzo, do not disturb the stream of lysander's eloquence. i could listen 'till "jocund day stood tip-toe on the mountain." phil. you are a little unconscionable, lisardo: but i apprehend lorenzo meant only to guard lysander against that minuteness of narration which takes us into every library and every study of the period at which we are arrived. if i recollect aright, warton was obliged to restrain himself in the same cause.[ ] [footnote : the part alluded to, in warton, is at the commencement of his second dissertation "on the introduction of learning into great britain." after rambling with the utmost felicity, among the libraries, and especially the monastic ones, of the earlier and middle ages--he thus checks himself by saying, that "in pursuit of these anecdotes, he is imperceptibly seduced into later periods, or rather is deviating from his subject."] loren. it belongs to me, lysander, to solicit your forgiveness. if you are not tired with the discussion of such a various and extensive subject (and more particularly from the energetic manner in which it is conducted on your part), rely upon it that your auditors cannot possibly feel _ennui_. every thing before us partakes of your enthusiasm: the wine becomes mellower, and sparkles with a ruddier glow; the flavour of the fruit is improved; and the scintillations of your conversational eloquence are scattered amidst my books, my busts, and my pictures. proceed, i entreat you; but first, accept my libation offered up at the shrine of an offended deity. lysand. you do me, and the _bibliomania_, too much honour. if my blushes do not overpower me, i will proceed: but first, receive the attestation of the deity that he is no longer affronted with you. i drink to your health and long life!--and proceed: if, among the numerous and gorgeous books which now surround us, it should be my good fortune to put my hand upon one, however small or imperfect, which could give us some account of the _history of british libraries_, it would save me a great deal of trouble, by causing me to maintain at least a chronological consistency in my discourse. but, since this cannot be--since, with all our love of books and of learning, we have this pleasing desideratum yet to be supplied--i must go on, in my usual desultory manner, in rambling among libraries, and discoursing about books and book-collectors. as we enter upon the reign of henry iv., we cannot avoid the mention of that distinguished library hunter, and book describer, john boston of bury;[ ] who may justly be considered the leland of his day. gale, if i recollect rightly, unaccountably describes his bibliomaniacal career as having taken place in the reign of henry vii.; but bale and pits, from whom tanner has borrowed his account, unequivocally affix the date of to boston's death; which is three years before the death of henry. it is allowed, by the warmest partizans of the reformation, that the dissolution of the monastic libraries has unfortunately rendered the labours of boston of scarcely any present utility. [footnote : it is said of boston that he visited almost every public library, and described the titles of every book therein, with punctilious accuracy. pits ( ) calls him "vir pius, litteratus, et bonarum litterarum fautor ac promotor singularis." bale (p. , edit. ) has even the candour to say, "mirâ sedulitate et diligentia omnes omnium regni monasteriorum bibliothecas invisit: librorum collegit titulos, et authorum eorum nomina: quæ omnia alphabetico disposuit ordine, et quasi unam omnium bibliothecam fecit." what lysander observes above is very true: "non enim dissimulanda (says gale) monasteriorum subversio, quæ brevi spatio subsecuta est--libros omnes dispersit et bostoni providam diligentiam, maxima ex parte, inutilem reddidit." _rer. anglicar. scrip. vet._, vol. iii., præf. p. . that indefatigable antiquary, thomas hearne, acknowledges that, in spite of all his researches in the bodleian library, he was scarcely able to discover any thing of boston's which related to benedictus abbas--and still less of his own compositions. _bened. abbat._ vol. i., præf. p. xvii. it is a little surprising that leland should have omitted to notice him. but the reader should consult tanner's _bibl. britan._, p. xvii., .] there is a curious anecdote of this period in rymer's foedera,[ ] about taking off the duty upon _six barrels of books_, sent by a roman cardinal to the prior of the conventual church of st. trinity, norwich. these barrels, which lay at the custom-house, were imported duty free; and i suspect that henry's third son, the celebrated john duke of bedford, who was then a lad, and just beginning to feed his bibliomaniacal appetite, had some hand in interceding with his father for the redemption of the duty. [footnote : vol. viii., p. . it is a clause roll of the th of henry iv. a.d. : "de certis libris, absque custumenda solvenda, liberandis;" and affords too amusing a specimen of custom-house latinity to be withheld from the reader. "mandamus vobis, quod certos libros _in sex barellis contentos_, priori qt conventui ecclesiæ sanctæ trinitatis norwici, per quendam adam nuper cardinalem legatos, et in portum civitatis nostræ predictæ (londinensis) ab urbe romanâ jam adductos, præfato, priori, absque custuma seu subsidio inde ad opus nostrum capiendis, liberetis indilate," &c.] lis. this duke of bedford was the most notorious bibliomaniac as well as warrior of his age; and, when abroad, was indefatigable in stirring up the emulation of flemish and french artists, to execute for him the most splendid books of devotion. i have heard great things of what goes by the name of _the bedford missal_![ ] [footnote : this missal, executed under the eye and for the immediate use of the famous john, duke of bedford (regent of france), and jane (the daughter of the duke of burgundy) his wife, was, at the beginning of the th century, in the magnificent library of harley, earl of oxford. it afterwards came into the collection of his daughter, the well-known duchess of portland; at whose sale, in , it was purchased by mr. edwards for guineas; and guineas have been, a few years ago, offered for this identical volume. it is yet the property of this last mentioned gentleman. among the pictures in it, there is an interesting one of the whole length portraits of the duke and duchess;--the head of the former of which has been enlarged and engraved by vertue for his portraits to illustrate the history of england. the missal frequently displays the arms of these noble personages; and also affords a pleasing testimony of the affectionate gallantry of the pair; the motto of the former being "a vous entier:" that of the latter, "j'en suis contente." there is a former attestation in the volume, of its having been given by the duke to his nephew, henry vi. as "a most suitable present." but the reader shall consult (if he can procure it) mr. gough's curious little octavo volume written expressly upon the subject.] lysand. and not greater than what merits to be said of it. i have seen this splendid bijou in the charming collection of our friend ----. it is a small thick folio, highly illuminated; and displaying, as well in the paintings as in the calligraphy, the graphic powers of that age, which had not yet witnessed even the dry pencil of perugino. more gorgeous, more beautifully elaborate, and more correctly graceful, missals may be in existence; but a more curious, interesting, and perfect specimen, of its kind, is no where to be seen: the portraits of the duke and of his royal brother henry v. being the best paintings known of the age. 'tis, in truth, a lovely treasure in the book way; and it should sleep every night upon an eider-down pillow encircled with emeralds! lis. hear him--hear him! lysander must be a collateral descendant of this noble bibliomaniac, whose blood, now circulating in his veins, thus moves him to "discourse most eloquently." lysand. banter as you please; only "don't disturb the stream of my eloquence." the period of this distinguished nobleman was that in which book-collecting began to assume a fixed and important character in this country. oxford saw a glimmering of civilization dawning in her obscured atmosphere. a short but dark night had succeeded the patriotic efforts of de bury; whose curious volumes, bequeathed to trinity college, had laid in a melancholy and deserted condition 'till they were kept company by those of cobham, bishop of worcester, rede, bishop of chichester, and humphrey the good duke of gloucester.[ ] now began the fashion (and may it never fall to decay!) of making presents to public libraries:--but, during the short and splendid career of henry v., learning yielded to arms: the reputation of a scholar to that of a soldier. i am not aware of any thing at this period, connected with the subject of our discourse, that deserves particular mention; although we ought never to name this illustrious monarch, or to think of his matchless prowess in arms, without calling to mind how he adorned the rough character of a soldier by the manners of a prince, the feelings of a christian, and, i had almost said, the devotion of a saint. [footnote : we will first notice cobham, bishop of worcester: who "having had a great desire to show some love to his mother the university of oxford, began, about the year , to build, or at least to make some reparations for _a library_, over the old congregation house in the north church-yard of st. mary's; but he dying soon after, before any considerable matter was done therein, left certain moneys for the carrying on of the work, and all his books, with others that had been lately procured, to be, with those belonging to the university (as yet kept in chests) reposed therein." some controversy afterwards arising between the university and oriel college, to which latter cobham belonged, the books lay in dreary and neglected state till ; when a room having been built for their reception, it was settled that they "should be reposed and chained in the said room or solar; that the scholars of the university should have free ingress and regress, at certain times, to make proficiency in them; that certain of the said books, of greater price, should be sold, till the sum of _l._ was obtained for them (unless other remedy could be found) with which should be bought an yearly rent of _l._ , for the maintenance of a chaplain, that should pray for the soul of the said bishop, and other benefactors of the university both living and dead, and have the custody or oversight of the said books, and of those in the ancient chest of books, and chest of rolls." wood's _hist. of the university of oxford_, vol. ii., pt. ii., . gutch's edit. william rede, or read, bishop of chichester, "sometimes fellow (of merton college) gave a chest with _l._ in gold in it, to be borrowed by the fellows for their relief; bond being first given in by them to repay it at their departure from the college; or, in case they should die, to be paid by their executors: a.d. . he also built, about the same time, _a library_ in the college; being the first that the society enjoyed, and gave books thereunto." wood's _history of the colleges and halls_, p. , gutch's edit. in mr. nicholl's _appendix to the history of leicester_, p. , note , i find some account of this distinguished literary character, taken from tanner's _bibl. britan._, p. . he is described, in both authorities, as being a very learned fellow of merton college, where he built and furnished _a noble library_; on the wall of which was painted his portrait, with this inscription: "gulielmus redÆus, episcopus cicestrensis, magister in theologia, profundus astronomus, quondam socius istius collegii, qui hanc librariam fieri fecit." many of read's mathematical instruments, as well as his portrait, were preserved in the library when harrison wrote his description of england, prefix'd to holinshed's chronicles; some of the former of which came into the possession of the historian. for thus writes harrison: "william read, sometime fellow of merteine college in oxford, doctor of divinitie, and the most profound astronomer that liued in his time, as appeareth by his collection, which some time i did possesse; his image is yet in the librarie there; and manie instruments of astronomie reserued in that house," &c. _chronicles_ ( ), edit. , vol. i., p. . in the year , when i visited the ancient and interesting brick-floored library of merton college, for the purpose of examining early printed books, i looked around in vain for the traces, however faded, of read's portrait: nor could i discover a single vestige of the bibliotheca readiana! the memory of this once celebrated bishop lives therefore only in what books have recorded of him; and this brief and _verbal picture_ of read is here drawn--as was the more finished resemblance of chaucer by the pencil, which occleve has left behind-- =that thei that have of him lost thoute and mynde by this peinture may ageine him fynde.= humphrey, duke of gloucester, "commonly called _the good_, was youngest brother to henry v. and the first founder of the university library in oxford, which was pillaged of the greater part of its books in the reign of edward the sixth." park's edit. of the _royal and noble authors_; vol. i., . "as for the books which he gave (says wood) they were very many, more by far than authors report; for whereas 'tis said he gave , you shall find anon that they were more than treble the number." the duke's first gift, in , of one hundred and twenty-nine treatises, was worth, according to wood, a thousand pounds. all his book presents, "amounting to above (mostly treating of divinity, physic, history, and humanity) which were from several parts of the world obtained, were transmitted to the university, and for the present laid up in chests in cobham's library. the catalogue also of them which were then sent, and the indentures for the receipt of the said books, were laid up in the chest called _cista librorum et rotulorum_." _history_ (or annals) _of the university of oxford_; vol. ii., pt. ii., . gutch's edit. consult also the recent and very amusing _history of the same university_, by mr. a. chalmers, vol. ii., p. . leland has not forgotten this distinguished bibliomaniac; for he thus lauds him in roman verse: tam clari meminit viri togata rectè gallia; tum chorus suavis cygnorum isidis ad vadum incolentûm cui magnum numerum dedit bonorum librorum, statuitque sanctiori divinus studio scholæ theatrum; nostro quale quidem videtur esse magnum tempore, forsan et futuro _cygn. cant._ vide lelandi itinerarium curâ hearne; edit. , vol. ix., p. .] the reign of his successor, henry vi., was the reign of trouble and desolation. it is not to be wondered that learning drooped, and religion "waxed faint," 'midst the din of arms and the effusion of human blood. yet towards the close of this reign some attempt was made to befriend the book cause; for the provost and fellows of eton and cambridge petitioned the king to assist them in increasing the number of books in their libraries;[ ] but the result of this petition has never, i believe, been known. [footnote : in the manuscript history of eton college, in the british museum (_mss. donat._ , p. .), the provost and fellows of eton and cambridge are stated, in the th of henry the sixth, to have petitioned the king that, as these new colleges were not sufficiently seised of books for divine service, and for their libraries, he would be pleased to order one of his chaplains, richard chestre, "to take to him such men as shall be seen to him expedient in order to get knowledge where such bookes may be found, paying a reasonable price for the same, and that the sayd men might have the first choice of such bookes, ornaments, &c., before any man, and in especiall of all manner of bookes, ornaments, and other necessaries as now _late were perteynyng to the duke of gloucester_, and that the king would particular(ly) cause to be employed herein john pye his stacioner of london." for this anecdote i am indebted to sir h. ellis. see also the interesting note in warton's _hist. engl. poet._, diss. ii., sign. f. .] i had nearly passed through the reign of henry the sixth without noticing the very meritorious labours of a sort of precursor of dean colet; i mean, sir walter sherington. he was a most assiduous bibliomaniac;[ ] and, in the true spirit of ancient monachism, conceived that no cathedral could be perfect without a library. accordingly, he not only brought together an extraordinary number of curious books, but framed laws or regulations concerning the treatment of the books, and the hours of perusing them; which, if i can trust to my memory, are rather curious, and worth your examination. they are in hearne's edition of the antiquities of glastonbury, composed in our own language. [footnote : "over the east quadrant of this (great) cloyster (on the north side of this church) was a fayre librarie, builded at the costes and charges of (sir) waltar sherington, chancellor of the duchie of lancaster, in the raigne of henrie the . which hath beene well furnished with faire written books in vellem: but few of them now do remaine there." _antiquities of glastonbury_; hearne's edit. ; p. . _regulations concerning sherington's library._ "quodque dicta libraria, hostiis ipsius per præfatos capellanos custodes ejusdem, et eorum successores, aut alterum ipsorum, apertis singulis diebus profestis annuatim á festo nativ. beat. mar. virg. usque festum annunciacionis ejusdem, ob ortu solis, donec hora nona post altam missam de servicio diei in dicta ecclesiâ cathedrali finiatur: et iterum ab hora prima post meridiem usque ad finem completorii in eadem ecclesia cathedrali, vel saltem usque ad occasum solis per eosdem, seu eorum alterum, sic continue diligenter custodiatur. et eciam singulis diebus profestis annuatim, ab eodem festo annunciacionis beatæ mariæ virginis usque ad prædictum festum nativitatis ejusdem, ab hora diei sexta, donec hora nona post altam missam in dicta ecclesia cathedrali, et iterum ab hora prima post meridiem quosque completorium in eadem ecclesia cathedrali finiatur, per præfatos capellanos, seu eorum alterum et successores suos custodes dictæ librariæ debitè et diligenter aperta, custodiatur, nisi causa racionabilis hoc fieri impediat. ita quod nullum dampnum eidem librariæ aut in libris, aut in hostiis, seruris vel fenestris vitreis ejusdem, ex negligencia dictorum capellanorum aut successorum suorum custodum dictæ librariæ evenire contingat. et si quid dampnum hujusmodi in præmissis, seu aliquo præmissorum, per negligenciam ipsorum capellanorum, seu eorum alterius, aut successorum suorum quoque modo imposterum evenerit, id vel ipsa dampnum aut dampna recompensare, emendare et satisfacere, tociens quociens contigerit, de salariis seu stipendiis suis propriis, auctoritate et judicio dictorum decani et capituli, debeant et teneantur, ut est justum. ceteris vero diebus, noctibus et temporibus hostia prædicta, cum eorum seruris et clavibus, omnino sint clausa et secure serata." _id._: p. .] we now enter upon the reign of an active and enterprising monarch; who, though he may be supposed to have cut his way to the throne by his sword, does not appear to have persecuted the cause of learning; but rather to have looked with a gracious eye upon its operations by means of the press. in the reign of edward iv., our venerable and worthy caxton fixed the first press that ever was set to work in this country, in the abbey of westminster. yes, lorenzo; now commenced more decidedly, the æra of bibliomania! now the rich, and comparatively poor, began to build them small _book rooms_ or _libraries_. at first, both the architecture and furniture were sufficiently rude, if i remember well the generality of wood cuts of ancient book-boudoirs:--a few simple implements only being deemed necessary; and a three-legged stool, "in fashion square or round," as cowper[ ] says, was thought luxury sufficient for the hard student to sit upon. now commenced a general love and patronage of books: now (to borrow john fox's language) "tongues became known, knowledge grew, judgment increased, books were dispersed, the scripture was read, stories were opened, times compared, truth discerned, falsehood detected, and with finger pointed (at)--and all, through the benefit of printing."[ ] [footnote : the entire passage is worth extraction: as it well describes many an old stool which has served for many a studious philosopher: "joint stools were then created: on three legs upborne they stood. three legs upholding firm a massy slab, in fashion square or round. on such a stool immortal alfred sat, and sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms. and such in ancient halls and mansions drear may still be seen; but perforated sore, and drilled in holes, the solid oak is found, by worms voracious eating through and through." _task_: b. i., v. , &c. it had escaped the amiable and sagacious author of these verses that such tripodical seats were frequently introduced into old book-rooms; as the subjoined print--which gives us also a curious picture of one of the libraries alluded to by lysander--may serve to shew: [illustration: _revelaciones sancte birgitte; ed. , sign. z. rev._]] [footnote : _book of martyrs_, vol. i., p. ; edit. .] lis. now you have arrived at this period, pray concentrate your anecdotes into a reasonable compass. as you have inveigled us into the printing-office of caxton, i am fearful, from your strong attachment to him, that we shall not get over the threshhold of it, into the open air again, until midnight. phil. order, order, lisardo! this is downright rudeness. i appeal to the chair!-- lorenz. lisardo is unquestionably reprehensible. his eagerness makes him sometimes lose sight of good breeding. lysand. i was going to mention some _vellum_ and _presentation_ copies--but i shall hurry forward. lis. nay, if you love me, omit nothing about "vellum and presentation copies." speak at large upon these glorious subjects. lysand. poor lisardo!--we must build an iron cage to contain such a book-madman as he promises to become! phil. proceed, dear lysander, and no longer heed these interruptions. lysand. nay, i was only about to observe that, as caxton is known to have printed _upon vellum_,[ ] it is most probable that one of his presentation copies of the romances of _jason and godfrey of boulogne_ (executed under the patronage of edward iv.), might have been printed in the same manner. be this as it may, it seems reasonable to conclude that edward the fourth was not only fond of books, as objects of beauty or curiosity, but that he had some affection for literature and literary characters; for how could the firm friend and generous patron of tiptoft, earl of worcester--with whom this monarch had spent many a studious, as well as jovial, hour--be insensible to the charms of intellectual refinement! pause we here for one moment--and let us pour the juice of the blackest grape upon the votive tablet, consecrated to the memory of this illustrious nobleman! and, as caxton has become so fashionable[ ] among us, i will read to you, from yonder beautiful copy of his english edition of "_tully upon friendship_," a part of our printer's affecting eulogy upon the translator:--"o good blessed lord god, what great loss was it of that noble, virtuous, and well-disposed lord! when i remember and advertise his life, his science, and his virtue, me thinketh god not displeased over a great loss of such a man, considering his estate and cunning," &c. "at his death every man that was there, might learn to die and take his (own) death patiently; wherein i hope and doubt not, but that god received his soul into his everlasting bliss. for as i am informed he right advisedly ordained all his things, as well for his last will of worldly goods, as for his soul's health; and patiently, and holily, without grudging, in charity, to fore that he departed out of this world: which is gladsome and joyous to hear."--what say you to this specimen of caxtonian eloquence? [footnote : consult the recent edition of the _typographical antiquities_ of our own country: vol. i., p. , , .] [footnote : as a proof of the ardour with which the books printed by him are now sought after, the reader shall judge for himself--when he is informed that an imperfect copy of the _golden legend_, one of caxton's commonest productions, produced at a book sale, a few months ago, the sum of _twenty-seven_ guineas!] lis. it has a considerable merit; but my attention has been a good deal diverted, during your appropriate recital of it, to the beautiful condition of the copy. thrice happy lorenzo! what sum will convey this volume to my own library! loren. no offer, in the shape of money, shall take it hence. i am an enthusiast in the cause of tiptoft; and am always upon the watch to discover any volume, printed by caxton, which contains the composition of the hapless earl of worcester! dr. henry has spoken so handsomely of him, and mr. park, in his excellent edition of walpole's royal and noble authors,[ ] has made his literary character so interesting that, considering the dearth of early good english authors,[ ] i know of no other name that merits greater respect and admiration. [footnote : vol i., p. , &c. _history of great britain_, by dr. henry, vol. x., p. , &c.] [footnote : "in the library of glastonbury abbey, in , there were but four books in engleish, &c. we have not a single historian, in engleish prose, before the reign of richard the second; when john treviza translateëd the polychronicon of randal higden. boston of bury, who seems to have consulted all the monasterys in engleland, does not mention one author who had written in engleish; and bale, at a lateër period, has, comparatively, but an insignificant number: nor was leland so fortunate as to find above two or three engleish books, in the monastick and other librarys, which he rummage'd, and explore'd, under the king's commission." ritson's dissertation on romance and minstrelsy: prefixed to his _ancient engleish metrical romanceës_, vol. i., p. lxxxi.] lysand. true; and this nobleman's attention to the acquisition of fine and useful books, when he was abroad, for the benefit of his own country,[ ] gives him a distinguished place in the list of bibliomaniacs. i dare say lisardo would give some few hundred guineas for his bust, executed by flaxman, standing upon a pedestal composed of the original editions of his works, bound in grave-coloured morocco by his favourite faulkener?[ ] [footnote : dr. henry's _history of great britain_; _ibid._: from which a copious note has been given in the new edition of our _typographical antiquities_; vol. i., p. , &c.] [footnote : henry faulkener, no. , george court, near the adelphi, in the strand. an honest, industrious, and excellent book-binder: who, in his mode of re-binding ancient books is not only scrupulously particular in the preservation of that important part of a volume, the margin; but, in his ornaments of tooling, is at once tasteful and exact. notwithstanding these hard times, and rather a slender bodily frame, and yet more slender purse--with five children, and the prospect of five more--honest mr. faulkener is in his three-pair-of-stairs confined workshop by five in the morning winter and summer, and oftentimes labours 'till twelve at night. severer toil, with more uniform good humour and civility in the midst of all his embarrassments, were never perhaps witnessed in a brother of the ancient and respectable craft of _book-binding_!] lis. i entreat you not to inflame my imagination by such tantalizing pictures! you know this must ever be a fiction: the most successful bibliomaniac never attained to such human happiness. phil. leave lisardo to his miseries, and proceed. lysand. i have supposed edward to have spent some jovial hours with this unfortunate nobleman. it is thought that our monarch and he partook of the superb feast which was given by the famous nevell, archbishop of york, at the inthronization of the latter; and i am curious to know of what the library of such a munificent ecclesiastical character was composed! but perhaps this feast itself[ ] is one of lisardo's fictions. [footnote : lysander is perfectly correct about the feast which was given at the archbishop's inthronization; as the particulars of it--"out of an old paper roll in the archives of the bodleian library," are given by hearne in the sixth volume of _leland's collectanea_, p. - : and a most extraordinary and amusing bill of fare it is. the last twenty dinners given by the lord mayors at guildhall, upon the first day of their mayoralties, were only _sandwiches_--compared with such a repast! what does the reader think of chickens, pigeons, coneys, "and mo," stags, bucks, and roes, with "pasties of venison colde?"--and these barely an th part of the kind of meats served up! at the high table our amiable earl of worcester was seated, with the archbishop, three bishops, the duke of suffolk, and the earl of oxford. the fictitious archiepiscopal feast was the one intended to be given by nevell to edward iv.; when the latter "appointed a day to come to hunt in more in hertfordshire, and make merry with him." nevell made magnificent preparations for the royal visit; but instead of receiving the monarch as a guest, he was saluted by some of his officers, who "arrested him for treason," and imprisoned him at calais and guisnes. the cause of this sudden, and apparently monstrous, conduct, on the part of edward, has not been told by stow (_chronicles_, p. ; edit. ), nor by godwyn, (_catalogue of the bishops of england_, p. , edit. ): both of whom relate the fact with singular naiveté. i have a strong suspicion that nevell was so far a bibliomaniac as to have had a curious collection of _astrological books_; for "there was greate correspondency betweene this archbishop and the hermetique philosophers of his time; and this is partly confirmed to me from ripley's dedication of his '_medulla_' to him, ann. ; as also the presentation of norton's '_ordinall_,'" &c. thus writes ashmole, in his _theatrum chemicum_, p. .] enough has probably been said of edward. we will stop, therefore, but a minute, to notice the completion of the humphrey library, and the bibliomaniacal spirit of master richard courtney,[ ] during the same reign; and give but another minute to the mention of the statute of richard iii. in protection of english printers,[ ] when we reach the augustan book-age, in the reign of henry vii. [footnote : speaking of the public library of oxford, at this period, hearne tells us, from a letter sent by him to thomas baker, that there was "a chaplein of the universitie chosen, after the maner of a bedell, and to him was the custodie of the librarye committed, his stipend--cvi_s_. and viii_d_. his apparell found him _de secta generosorum_. no man might come in to studdie but graduats and thoes of years contynuance in the universitie, except noblemen. all that come in must firste sweare to use the bookes well, and not to deface theim, and everye one after at his proceedings must take the licke othe. howers apoynted when they shuld come in to studdie, viz. betwene ix and xi aforenoone, and one and four afternoone, the keper geving attendaunce: yet a prerogative was graunted the chancelour mr. richard courtney to come in when he pleased, during his own lieffe, so it was in the day-tyme: and the cause seemeth, that he was cheiffe cawser and setter on of the librarye." _curious discourses by eminent antiquaries_; vol. ii., p. ., edit. .] [footnote : see page , ante. when lysander talks, above, of the reign of henry the seventh being the "augustan age for books," he must be supposed to allude to the facility and beauty of publishing them by means of the press: for at this period, abroad, the typographical productions of verard, eustace, vostre, bonfons, pigouchet, regnier, and many others ("quæ nunc perscribere longum est") were imitated, and sometimes equalled by w. de worde, pynson, and notary, at home. in regard to _intellectual_ fame, if my authority be good, "in the reign of henry vii. greek was a stranger in both universities; and so little even of latin had cambridge, of its own growth, that it had not types sufficient to furnish out the common letters and epistles of the university. they usually employed an italian, one caius auberinus, to compose them, whose ordinarry [transcriber's note: ordinary] fee was twentypence a letter." (mss. in benet college library, lib. p. p. ,) _ridley's life of ridley_, p. . "greek began to be taught in both universities: quietly at cambridge, but ('horresco referens!') with some tumult at oxford!" _ibid._] phil. before we proceed to discuss the bibliomaniacal ravages of this age, we had better retire, with lorenzo's leave, to the drawing-room; to partake of a beverage less potent than that which is now before us. lorenz. just as you please. but i should apprehend that lysander could hold out 'till he reached the reformation;--and, besides, i am not sure whether our retreat be quite ready for us. lis. pray let us not take leave of all these beauteous books, and busts, and pictures, just at present. if lysander's lungs will bear him out another twenty minutes, we shall, by that time, have reached the reformation; and then "our retreat," as lorenzo calls it, may be quite ready for our reception. lysand. settle it between yourselves. but i think i could hold out for another twenty minutes--since you will make me your only book-orator. lorenz. let it be so, then. i will order the lamps to be lit; so that lisardo may see his favourite wouvermans and berghems, in company with my romances, (which latter are confined in my satin-wood book-case) to every possible degree of perfection! lysand. provided you indulge me also with a sight of these delightful objects, you shall have what you desire:--and thus i proceed: of the great passion of henry the viith for fine books, even before he ascended the throne of england,[ ] there is certainly no doubt. and while he was king, we may judge, even from the splendid fragments of his library, which are collected in the british museum, of the nicety of his taste, and of the soundness of his judgment. that he should love extravagant books of devotion,[ ] as well as histories and chronicles, must be considered the fault of the age, rather than of the individual. i will not, however, take upon me to say that the slumbers of this monarch were disturbed in consequence of the extraordinary and frightful passages, which, accompanied with bizarre cuts,[ ] were now introduced into almost every work, both of ascetic divinity and also of plain practical morality. his predecessor, richard, had in all probability been alarmed by the images which the reading of these books had created; and i guess that it was from such frightful objects, rather than from the ghosts of his murdered brethren, that he was compelled to pass a sleepless night before the memorable battle of bosworth field. if one of those artists who used to design the horrible pictures which are engraved in many old didactic volumes of this period had ventured to take a peep into richard's tent, i question whether he would not have seen, lying upon an oaken table, an early edition of some of those fearful works of which he had himself aided in the embellishment, and of which heinecken has given us such curious fac-similes:[ ]--and this, in my humble apprehension, is quite sufficient to account for all the terrible workings in richard, which shakespeare has so vividly described. [footnote : mr. heber has a fine copy of one of the volumes of a black-letter edition of froissart, printed by eustace, upon the exterior of the binding of which are henry's arms, with his name--henricvs dvx richmvndiÆ. the very view of such a book, while it gives comfort to a low-spirited bibliomaniac, adds energy to the perseverance of a young collector! the latter of whom fondly, but vainly, thinks he may one day be blessed with a similar treasure!] [footnote : the possession of such a volume as "_the revelations of the monk of euesham_" (vide vol. ii., of the new edition of _brit. typog. antiquities_), is evidence sufficient of henry's attachment to extravagant books of devotion.] [footnote : it is certainly one of the comforts of modern education, that girls and boys have nothing to do, even in the remotest villages, with the perusal of such books as were put into the juvenile hands of those who lived towards the conclusion of the th century. one is at a loss to conceive how the youth of that period could have ventured at night out of doors, or slept alone in a darkened room, without being frightened out of their wits! nor could maturer life be uninfluenced by reading such volumes as are alluded to in the text: and as to the bed of death--_that_ must have sometimes shaken the stoutest faith, and disturbed the calmest piety. for what can be more terrible, and at the same time more audacious, than human beings arrogating to themselves the powers of the deity, and denouncing, in equivocal cases, a certainty and severity of future punishment, equally revolting to scripture and common sense? to drive the timid into desperation, and to cut away the anchor of hope from the rational believer, seem, among other things, to have been the objects of these "ascetic" authors; while the pictures, which were suffered to adorn their printed works, confirmed the wish that, where the reader might not comprehend the text, he could understand its illustration by means of a print. i will give two extracts, and one of these "bizarre cuts," in support of the preceding remarks. at page , ante, the reader will find a slight mention of the subject: he is here presented with a more copious illustration of it. "in likewise there is none that may declare the piteous and horrible cries and howlings the which that is made in hell, as well of devils as of other damned. and if that a man demand what they say in crying; the answer: all the damned curseth the creator. also they curse together as their father and their mother, and the hour that they were begotten, and that they were born, and that they were put unto nourishing, and those that them should correct and teach, and also those the which have been the occasion of their sins, as the bawd, cursed be the bawd, and also of other occasions in diverse sins. the second cause of the cry of them damned is for the consideration that they have of the time of mercy, the which is past, in the which they may do penance and purchase paradise. the third cause is of their cry for by cause of the horrible pains of that they endure. as we may consider that if an hundred persons had every of them one foot and one hand in the fire, or in the water seething without power to die, what _bruit_ and what cry they should make; but that should be less than nothing in comparison of devils and of other damned, for they ben more than an hundred thousand thousands, the which all together unto them doeth _noysaunce_, and all in one thunder crying and braying horribly."--_thordynary of crysten men_, , to., k k. ii., rect. again: from a french work written "for the amusement of all worthy ladies and gentlemen:" de la flamme tousiours esprise de feu denfer qui point ne brise de busches nest point actise ne de soufflemens embrase le feu denfer, mais est de dieu cree pour estre en celuy lieu des le premier commencement sans jamais pendre finement illec nya point de clarte mais de tenebres obscurte de peine infinie durte de miseres eternite pleur et estraignement de dens chascun membre aura la dedans tourmmens selon ce qua forfait la peine respondra au fait, &c. &c. &c. _le passe tempe de tout home, et de toute femme_; sign. q. ii., rev. printed by verard in vo., without date: (from a copy, printed upon vellum, in the possession of john lewis goldsmyd, esq.)--the next extract is from a book which was written to amuse and instruct the common people: being called by warton a "universal magazine of every article of salutary and useful knowledge." _hist. engl. poetry_: vol. ii., . in hell is great mourning great trouble of crying of thunder noises roaring with plenty of wild fire beating with great strokes like guns with a great frost in water runs and after a bitter wind comes which goeth through the souls with ire there is both thirst and hunger fiends with hooks putteth their flesh asunder they fight and curse and each on other wonder with the fight of the devils dreadable there is shame and confusion rumour of conscience for evil living they curse themself with great crying in smoak and stink they be evermore lying with other pains innumerable. _kalendar of shepherds. sign g. vij. rev. pynson's edit., fol._ [illustration] specimens of some of the tremendous cuts which are crowded into this thin folio will be seen in the second volume of the new edition of the _typographical antiquities_. however, that the reader's curiosity may not here be disappointed, he is presented with a similar specimen, on a smaller scale, of one of the infernal tortures above described. it is taken from a book whose title conveys something less terrific; and describes a punishment which is said to be revealed by the almighty to st. bridget against those who have "ornamenta indecentia in capitibus et pedibus, et reliquis membris, ad provocandum luxuriam et irritandum deum, in strictis vestibus, ostensione mamillarum, unctionibus," &c. _revelaciones sancte birgitte; edit. koeberger, , fol., sign. q., , rev._] [footnote : see many of the cuts in that scarce and highly coveted volume, entitled, "_idée generale d'une collection complètte d'estampes_." leips. , vo.] lis. this is, at least, an original idea; and has escaped the sagacity of every commentator in the last twenty-one volume edition of the works of our bard. lysand. but to return to henry. i should imagine that his mind was not much affected by the perusal of this description of books: but rather that he was constantly meditating upon some old arithmetical work--the prototype of cocker--which, in the desolation of the ensuing half century, has unfortunately perished. yet, if this monarch be accused of avaricious propensities--if, in consequence of speculating deeply in _large paper_ and _vellum_ copies, he made his coffers to run over with gold--it must be remembered that he was, at the same time, a patron as well as judge of architectural artists; and while the completion of the structure of king's college chapel, cambridge, and the building of his own magnificent chapel[ ] at westminster (in which latter, i suspect, he had a curiously-carved gothic closet for the preservation of choice copies from caxton's neighbouring press), afford decisive proofs of henry's skill in matters of taste, the rivalship of printers and of book-buyers shews that the example of the monarch was greatly favourable to the propagation of the bibliomania. indeed, such was the progress of the book-disease that, in the very year of henry's death, appeared, for the first time in this country, an edition of _the ship of fools_--in which work, ostentatious and ignorant book-collectors[ ] are, amongst other characters, severely satirized. [footnote : harpsfield speaks with becoming truth and spirit of henry's great attention to ecclesiastical establishments: "splendidum etiam illud sacellum westmonasterij, magno sumptu atque magnificentia ab eodem est conditum. in quod coenobium valde fuit liberalis et munificus. nullumque fere fuit in tota anglia monachorum, aut fratrum coenobium, nullum collegium, cujus preces, ad animam ipsius deo post obitum commendandam, sedulo non expetierat. legavit autem singulorum præfectis sex solidos et octo denarios, singulis autem eorundem presbyteris, tres solidos et quatuor denarios: ceteris non presbyteris viginti denarios." _hist. eccles. anglic._, p. , edit. , fol.] [footnote : the reader is here introduced to his old acquaintance, who appeared in the title-page to my first "_bibliomania_:"-- [illustration] i am the firste fole of all the hole navy to kepe the pompe, the helme, and eke the sayle: for this is my mynde, this one pleasoure have i-- of bokes to haue great plenty and aparayle. i take no wysdome by them: nor yet avayle nor them perceyve nat: and then i them despyse. thus am i a foole, and all that serue that guyse. _shyp of folys_, &c., _pynson's edit._, , fol.] we have now reached the threshhold of the reign of henry viii.--and of the era of the reformation. an era in every respect most important, but, in proportion to its importance, equally difficult to describe--as it operates upon the history of the bibliomania. now blazed forth, but blazed for a short period, the exquisite talents of wyatt, surrey, vaux, fischer, more, and, when he made his abode with us, the incomparable erasmus. but these in their turn. phil. you omit wolsey. surely he knew something about books? lysand. i am at present only making the sketch of my grand picture. wolsey, i assure you, shall stand in the foreground. nor shall the immortal leland be treated in a less distinguished manner. give me only "ample room and verge enough," and a little time to collect my powers, and then-- lis. "yes, and then"--you will infect us from top to toe with the book-disease! phil. in truth i already begin to feel the consequence of the innumerable miasma of it, which are floating in the atmosphere of this library. i move that we adjourn to a purer air. lysand. i second the motion: for, having reached the commencement of henry's reign, it will be difficult to stop at any period in it previous to that of the reformation. lis. agreed. thanks to the bacchanalian bounty of lorenzo, we are sufficiently enlivened to enter yet further, and more enthusiastically, into this congenial discourse. dame nature and good sense equally admonish us now to depart. let us, therefore, close the apertures of these gorgeous decanters:-- "claudite jam rivos, pueri: sat prata bibêrunt!" [illustration] [illustration: the striking device of m. morin, printer, rouen.] part v. =the drawing room.= history of the bibliomania, or account of book collectors, concluded. some in learning's garb with formal hand, and sable-cinctur'd gown, and rags of mouldy volumes. akenside; _pleasures of imagination_, b. iii., v. . [illustration] =the drawing room.= history of the bibliomania, or account of book-collectors, continued. volatile as the reader may comceive [transcriber's note: conceive] the character of lisardo to be, there were traits in it of marked goodness and merit. his enthusiasm so frequently made him violate the rules of severe politeness; and the quickness with which he flew from one subject to another, might have offended a narrator of the gravity, without the urbanity, of lysander; had not the frankness with which he confessed his faults, and the warmth with which he always advocated the cause of literature, rendered him amiable in the eyes of those who thoroughly knew him. the friends, whose company he was now enjoying, were fully competent to appreciate his worth. they perceived that lisardo's mind had been rather brilliantly cultivated; and that, as his heart had always beaten at the call of virtue, so, in a due course of years, his judgment would become matured, and his opinions more decidedly fixed. he had been left, very early in life, without a father, and bred up in the expectation of a large fortune; while the excessive fondness of his mother had endeavoured to supply the want of paternal direction, and had encouraged her child to sigh for every thing short of impossibility for his gratification. in consequence, lisardo was placed at college upon the most respectable footing. he wore the velvet cap, and enjoyed the rustling of the tassels upon his silk gown, as he paraded the high street of oxford. but although he could translate tacitus and theocritus with creditable facility, he thought it more advantageous to gratify the cravings of his body than of his mind. he rode high-mettled horses; he shot with a gun which would have delighted an indian prince; he drank freely out of cut-glasses, which were manufactured according to his own particular taste; and wines of all colours and qualities sparkled upon his table; he would occasionally stroll into the bodleian library and picture gallery, in order to know whether any acquisitions had been recently made to them; and attended the concerts when any performer came down from london. yet, in the midst of all his gaiety, lisardo passed more sombrous than joyous hours: for when he looked into a book, he would sometimes meet with an electrical sentence from cicero, seneca, or johnson, from which he properly inferred that life was uncertain, and that time was given us to prepare for eternity. he grew dissatisfied and melancholy. he scrambled through his terms; took his degree; celebrated his anniversary of twenty-one, by drenching his native village in ale which had been brewed at his birth; added two wings to his father's house; launched out into coin and picture collecting; bought fine books with fine bindings; then sold all his coins and pictures; and, at the age of twenty-five, began to read, and think, and act for himself. at this crisis, he became acquainted with the circle which has already been introduced to the reader's attention; and to which circle the same reader may think it high time now to return. upon breaking up for the drawing room, it was amusing to behold the vivacity of lisardo; who, leaping about lysander, and expressing his high gratification at the discourse he had already heard, and his pleasure at what he hoped yet to hear, reminded us of what boswell has said of garrick, who used to flutter about dr. johnson, and try to soften his severity by a thousand winning gestures. the doors were opened; and we walked into lorenzo's drawing room. the reader is not to figure to himself a hundred fantastical and fugitive pieces of furniture, purchased at mr. oakley's, and set off with curtains, carpet, and looking-glasses--at a price which would have maintained a country town of seven hundred poor with bread and soup during the hardest winter--the reader will not suppose that a man of lorenzo's taste, who called books his best wealth, would devote two thousand pounds to such idle trappings; which in the course of three years, at farthest, would lose their comfort by losing their fashion. but he will suppose that elegance and propriety were equally consulted by our host. accordingly, a satin-wood book-case of feet in width and in height, ornamented at the top with a few chaste etruscan vases--a light blue carpet, upon which were depicted bunches of grey roses, shadowed in brown--fawn-coloured curtains, relieved with yellow silk and black velvet borders--alabaster lamps shedding their soft light upon small marble busts--and sofas and chairs corresponding with the curtains--(and upon which a visitor might sit without torturing the nerves of the owner of them) these, along with some genuine pictures of wouvermans, berghem, and rysdael, and a few other (subordinate) ornaments, formed the furniture of lorenzo's drawing room. as it was _en suite_ with the library, which was fitted up in a grave style or character, the contrast was sufficiently pleasing. lisardo ran immediately to the book-case. he first eyed, with a greedy velocity, the backs of the folios and quartos; then the octavos; and, mounting an ingeniously-contrived mahogany rostrum, which moved with the utmost facility, he did not fail to pay due attention to the duodecimos; some of which were carefully preserved in russia or morocco backs, with water-tabby silk linings, and other appropriate embellishments. in the midst of his book-reverie, he heard, on a sudden, the thrilling notes of a harp--which proceeded from the further end of the library!--it being lorenzo's custom, upon these occasions, to request an old welch servant to bring his instrument into the library, and renew, if he could, the strains of "other times." meanwhile the curtains were "let fall;" the sofa wheeled round; --and the cups that cheer, but not inebriate, with "the bubbling and loud hissing urn," "welcomed the evening in." lorenzo brought from his library a volume of piranesi, and another of engravings from the heads of vandyke. lisardo, in looking at them, beat time with his head and foot; and philemon and lysander acknowledged that dr. johnson himself could never have so much enjoyed the beverage which was now before them. if it should here be asked, by the critical reader, why our society is not described as being more congenial, by the presence of those "whom man was born to please," the answer is at once simple and true--lorenzo was a bachelor; and his sisters, knowing how long and desperate would be our discussion upon the black letter and white letter, had retreated, in the morning, to spend the day with lisardo's mother--whither ---- ---- had been invited to join them. the harper had now ceased. the tea-things were moved away; when we narrowed our circle, and, two of us upon the sofa, and three upon chairs, entreated lysander to resume his narrative; who, after "clearing his pipes (like sir roger de coverley) with a loud hem or two," thus proceeded. "i think we left off," said lysander, "with seating henry the eighth upon the throne of england. it will be as well, therefore, to say something of this monarch's pretensions to scholarship and love of books. although i will not rake together every species of abuse which has been vented against him by one anthony gilbie,[ ] yet henry must be severely censured, in the estimation of the most candid inquirer, for that gross indifference which he evinced to the real interests of literature, in calmly suffering the libraries of convents and monasteries to be pillaged by the crafty and rapacious. he was bibliomaniac enough to have a few copies of his own work, in defence of the roman catholic exposition of the sacrament, struck off upon vellum:[ ] but when he quarrelled with the roman pontiff about his divorce from queen catharine, in order to marry anne boleyn,[ ] he sounded the tocsin for the eventful destruction of all monastic libraries: and although he had sent leland, under an express commission, to make a due examination of them, as well as a statistical survey of the realm, yet, being frustrated in the forementioned darling object, he cared for nothing about books, whether _upon vellum_ or _large paper_. but had we not better speak of the book ravages, during the reformation, in their proper place?" [footnote : "in the time (saith he) of king henrie the eight, when by tindall, frith, bilney, and other his faithful seruantes, god called england to dresse his vineyarde, many promise ful faire, whome i coulde name, but what fruite followed? nothing but bitter grapes, yea, bryers and brambles, the wormewood of auarice, the gall of crueltie, the poison of filthie fornication, flowing from head to fote, the contempt of god, and open defence of the cake idole, by open proclamation to be read in the churches in steede of god's scriptures. thus was there no reformation, but a deformation, in the time of the tyrant and lecherouse monster. the bore i graunt was busie, wrooting and digging in the earth, and all his pigges that followed him, but they sought onely for the pleasant fruites, that they winded with their long snoutes; and for their own bellies sake, they wrooted up many weeds; but they turned the grounde so, mingling goode and badde togeather, sweet and sower, medecine and poyson, they made, i saye, suche confusion of religion and lawes, that no good thinge could growe, but by great miracle, under suche gardeners. and no maruaile, if it be rightlye considered. for this bore raged against god, against the divell, against christe, and against antichrist, as the fome that he cast oute against luther, the racing out of the name of the pope, and yet allowing his lawes, and his murder of many christian souldiars, and of many papists, doe declare and evidentlie testifie unto us; especially the burning of barnes, jerome, and garrette, their faithfull preachers of the truthe, and hanging the same daye for the maintenaunce of the pope, poel, abel, and fetherstone, dothe clearlie painte his beastlines, that he cared for no religion. this monsterous bore for all this must needes be called the head of the church in paine of treason, displacing christ, our onely head, who ought alone to haue this title." _admonition to england and scotland, &c._, geneva, , p. . quoted by stapleton in his _counter blaste to horne's vayne blaste_, lovan., , to., fol. . gilbie was a protestant; upon which stapleton who was a rigid roman catholic, shrewdly remarks in the margin: "see how religiously the protestantes speak of their princes!"] [footnote : mr. edwards informs me that he has had a copy of the "_assertio septem sacramentorum aduersus martin lutherum_," &c. (printed by pynson in to., both with and without date-- ), upon vellum. the presentation copy to henry, and perhaps another to wolsey, might have been of this nature. i should have preferred a similar copy of the small book, printed a few years afterwards, in mo., of henry's letters in answer to luther's reply to the foregoing work. this is not the place to talk further of these curious pieces. i have seen some of pynson's books printed upon vellum; which are not remarkable for their beauty.] [footnote : those readers who are not in possession of hearne's rare edition of _robert de avesbury_, , vo., and who cannot, in consequence, read the passionate letters of henry viii. to his beloved boleyn, which form a leading feature in the appendix to the same, will find a few extracts from them in the _british bibliographer_; vol. ii., p. . some of the monarch's signatures, of which hearne has given fac-similes, are as follow: [illustration] when one thinks of the then imagined happiness of the fair object of these epistles--and reads the splendid account of her coronation dinner, by stow--contrasting it with the melancholy circumstances which attended her death--one is at loss to think, or to speak, with sufficient force, of the fickleness of all sublunary grandeur! the reader may, perhaps, wish for this, "coronation dinner?" it is, in part, strictly as follows: "while the queen was in her chamber, every lord and other that ought to do service at the coronation, did prepare them, according to their duty: as the duke of suffolk, high-steward of england, which was richly apparelled--his doublet and jacket set with orient pearl, his gown crimson velvet embroidered, his courser trapped with a close trapper, head and all, to the ground, of crimson velvet, set full of letters of gold, of goldsmith's work; having a long white rod in his hand. on his left-hand rode the lord william, deputy for his brother, as earl marshall, with ye marshal's rod, whose gown was crimson velvet, and his horse's trapper purple velvet cut on white satin, embroidered with white lions. the earl of oxford was high chamberlain; the earl of essex, carver; the earl of sussex, sewer; the earl of arundel, chief butler; on whom citizens of london did give their attendance at the cupboard; the earl of derby, cup-bearer; the viscount lisle, panter; the lord burgeiny, chief larder; the lord broy, almoner for him and his copartners; and the mayor of oxford kept the buttery-bar: and thomas wyatt was chosen ewerer for sir henry wyatt, his father." "when all things were ready and ordered, the queen, under her canopy, came into the hall, and washed; and sat down in the middest of the table, under her cloth of estate. on the right side of her chair stood the countess of oxford, widow: and on her left hand stood the countess of worcester, all the dinner season; which, divers times in the dinner time, did hold a fine cloth before the queen's face, when she list to spit, or do otherwise at her pleasure. and at the table's end sate the archbishop of canterbury, on the right hand of the queen; and in the midst, between the archbishop and the countess of oxford, stood the earl of oxford, with a white staff, all dinner time; and at the queen's feet, under the table, sate two gentlewomen all dinner time. when all these things were thus ordered, came in the duke of suffolk and the lord william howard on horseback, and the serjeants of arms before them, and after them the sewer; and then the knights of the bath, bringing in the _first course_, which was eight and twenty dishes, besides subtleties, and ships made of wax, marvellous gorgeous to behold: all which time of service, the trumpets standing in the window, at the nether end of the hall, played," &c. _chronicles_; p. : edit. , fol.] lorenz. as you please. perhaps you will go on with the mention of some distinguished patrons 'till you arrive at that period? lysand. yes; we may now as well notice the efforts of that extraordinary _bibliomaniacal triumvirate_, colet, more, and erasmus. phil. pray treat copiously of them. they are my great favourites. but can you properly place erasmus in the list? lysand. you forget that he made a long abode here, and was greek professor at cambridge. to begin, then, with the former. colet, as you well know, was dean of st. paul's; and founder of the public school which goes by the latter name. he had an ardent and general love of literature;[ ] but his attention to the improvement of youth, in superintending appropriate publications, for their use, was unremitting. few men did so much and so well, at this period: for while he was framing the statutes by which his little community was to be governed, he did not fail to keep the presses of wynkyn de worde and pynson pretty constantly at work, by publishing the grammatical treatises of grocyn, linacre, stanbridge, lilye, holte, whittington, and others--for the benefit, as well of the public, as of his own particular circle. i take it, his library must have been both choice and copious; for books now began to be multiplied in an immense ratio, and scholars and men of rank thought _a study_, or _library_, of some importance to their mansions. what would we not give for an authenticated representation of dean colet in his library,[ ] surrounded with books? you, lisardo, would be in ecstacies with such a thing! [footnote : how anxiously does colet seem to have watched the progress, and pushed the sale, of his friend erasmus's first edition of the greek testament! "quod scribis de novo testamento intelligo. et libri novæ editionis tuæ _hic avide emuntur et passim leguntur_!" the entire epistle (which may be seen in dr. knight's dry life of colet, p. ) is devoted to an account of erasmus's publications. "i am really astonished, my dear erasmus (does he exclaim), at the fruitfulness of your talents; that, without any fixed residence, and with a precarious and limited income, you contrive to publish so many and such excellent works." adverting to the distracted state of germany at this period, and to the wish of his friend to live secluded and unmolested, he observes--"as to the tranquil retirement which you sigh for, be assured that you have my sincere wishes for its rendering you as happy and composed as you can wish it. your age and erudition entitle you to such a retreat. i fondly hope, indeed, that you will choose this country for it, and come and live amongst us, whose disposition you know, and whose friendship you have proved." there is hardly a more curious picture of the custom of the times relating to the education of boys, than the dean's own statutes for the regulation of st. paul's school, which he had founded. these shew, too, the _popular books_ then read by the learned. "the children shall come unto the school in the morning at seven of the clock, both winter and summer, and tarry there until eleven; and return again at one of the clock, and depart at five, &c. in the school, no time in the year, they shall use tallow candle, in no wise, but _only wax candle_, at the costs of their friends. also i will they bring no meat nor drink, nor bottle, nor use in the school no breakfasts, nor drinkings, in the time of learning, in no wise, &c. i will they use no cockfighting, nor riding about of victory, nor disputing at saint bartholomew, which is but foolish babbling and loss of time." the master is then restricted, under the penalty of shillings, from granting the boys a holiday, or "remedy" (play-day), as it is here called, "except the king, an archbishop, or a bishop, present in his own person in the school, desire it." the studies for the lads were "erasmus's _copia_ et _institutum christiani hominii_ (composed at the dean's request), _lactantius_, _prudentius_, _juvencus_, _proba_ and _sedulius_, and _baptista mantuanus_, and such other as shall be thought convenient and most to purpose unto the true latin speech; all barbary, all corruption, all latin adulterate, which ignorant blind fools brought into this world, and with the same hath distained and poisoned the old latin speech, and the _veray_ roman tongue, which in the time of tully, and sallust, and virgil, and terence, was used--i say, that filthiness, and all such abusion, which the later blind world brought in, which more rather may be called bloterature than literature, i utterly banish and exclude out of this school." knight's _life of colet_, , . the sagacious reader will naturally enough conclude that boys, thus educated, would, afterwards, of necessity, fall victims to the ravages of the bibliomania!] [footnote : i wish it were in my power to come forward with any stronger degree of probability than the exhibition of the subjoined cut, of what might have been the interior of _dean colet's study_. this print is taken from an old work, printed in the early part of the sixteenth century, and republished in a book of alciatus's emblems, translated from the latin into italian, a.d. , vo. there is an air of truth about it; but the frame work is entirely modern, and perhaps not in the purest taste. it may turn out that this interior view of a private library is somewhat too perfect and finished for the times of colet, in this country; especially if we may judge from the rules to be observed in completing a public one, just about the period of colet's death: "md. couenawntyd and agreid wyth comell clerke, for the making off the dextis in the library, (of christ church college, oxford) to the summe off xvi, after the maner and forme as they be in magdalyn college, except the popie heedes off the seites, this to be workmanly wrought and clenly, and he to have all manner off stooff foond hym, and to have for the makyng off one dexte xs. the sum off the hole viii. li. item: borowd att magdaleyn college one c. off v. d nayle, a c. off vi. d nayle, dim. c. x. d. nayle."--_antiquities of glastonbury_; edit. hearne, p. . [illustration]] lis. pray don't make such tantalizing appeals to me! proceed, proceed. lysand. of this amiable and illustrious character i will only further observe that he possessed solid, good sense--unaffected and unshaken piety--a love towards the whole human race--and that he dignified his attachment to learning by the conscientious discharge of his duty towards god and man. he sleeps in peace beneath a monument, which has been consecrated by the tears of all who were related to him, and by the prayers of those who have been benefitted by his philanthropy. of sir thomas more,[ ] where is the schoolboy that is ignorant? he was unquestionably, next to erasmus, the most brilliant scholar of his age: while the precious biographical memoirs of him, which have luckily descended to us, place his character, in a domestic point of view, beyond that of all his contemporaries. dr. wordsworth[ ] has well spoken of "the heavenly mindedness" of more: but how are bibliomaniacs justly to appreciate the classical lore, and incessantly-active book-pursuits,[ ] of this scholar and martyr! how he soared "above his compeers!" how richly, singularly, and curiously, was his mind furnished! wit, playfulness, elevation, and force--all these are distinguishable in his writings, if we except his polemical compositions; which latter, to speak in the gentlest terms, are wholly unworthy of his name. when more's head was severed from his body, virtue and piety exclaimed, in the language of erasmus,--"he is dead: more, whose breast was purer than snow, whose genius was excellent above all his nation."[ ] [illustration: behold him going to execution--his beloved daughter (mrs. roper) rushing through the guards, to take her last embrace.] [footnote : in the first volume of my edition of sir thomas more's _utopia_, the reader will find an elaborate and faithful account of the biographical publications relating to this distinguished character, together with a copious _catalogue raisonnè_ of the engraved portraits of him, and an analysis of his english works. it would be tedious to both the reader and author, here to repeat what has been before written of sir thomas more--whose memory lives in every cultivated bosom. of this edition of the utopia there appeared a flimsy and tart censure in the _edinburgh review_, by a critic, who, it was manifest, had never examined the volumes, and who, when he observes upon the fidelity of bishop burnet's translation of the original latin of more, was resolved, from pure love of whiggism, to defend an author at the expense of truth.] [footnote : i have read this newly published biographical memoir of sir thomas more: which contains nothing very new, or deserving of particular notice in this place.] [footnote : a bibliomanical anecdote here deserves to be recorded; as it shews how more's love of books had infected even those who came to seize upon him to carry him to the tower, and to endeavour to inveigle him into treasonable expressions:--"while sir richard southwell and mr. palmer were bussie in _trussinge upp his bookes_, mr. riche, pretending," &c.--"whereupon mr. palmer, on his desposition, said, that he was soe bussie about the _trussinge upp sir tho. moore's bookes_ in a sacke, that he tooke no heed to there talke. sir richard southwell likewise upon his disposition said, that because he was appoynted only to looke to the conveyance _of his bookes_, he gave noe ear unto them."--_gulielmi roperi vita d.t. mori_; edit herne, p. , .] [footnote : epistle dedicatory to ecclesiastes: quoted in that elegant and interesting quarto volume of the "_lives of british statesmen_," by the late mr. macdiarmid; p. .] how can i speak, with adequate justice, of the author of these words!--yes, erasmus!--in spite of thy timidity, and sometimes, almost servile compliances with the capricious whims of the great; in spite of thy delicate foibles, thou shalt always live in my memory; and dear to me shall be the possession of thy intellectual labours! no pen has yet done justice to thy life.[ ] how i love to trace thee, in all thy bookish pursuits, from correcting the press of thy beloved froben, to thy social meetings with colet and more! you remember well, lisardo,--we saw, in yonder room, a _large paper_ copy of the fine leyden edition of this great man's works! you opened it; and were struck with the variety--the solidity, as well as gaiety, of his productions. [footnote : it were much to be wished that mr. roscoe, who has so successfully turned his attention to the history of _italian literature_, of the period of erasmus, would devote himself to the investigation of the philological history of the german schools, and more especially to the literary life of the great man of whom lysander is above speaking. the biographical memoirs of erasmus by le clerc, anglicised and enlarged by the learned jortin, and dr. knight's life of the same, can never become popular. they want method, style and interest. le clerc, however, has made ample amends for the defectiveness of his biographical composition, by the noble edition of erasmus's works which he put forth at leyden, in the year - , in eleven volumes folio: of which volumes the reader will find an excellent analysis or review in the _act. erudit._, a.d. , &c. le clerc, _bibl. choisie_, vol. i., ; du pin's _bibl. eccles._, vol. xiv., and _biblioth. fabric_, pt. i., ; from which latter we learn that, in the public library, at deventer, there is a copy of erasmus's works, in which those passages, where the author speaks freely of the laxity of the monkish character, have been defaced, "chartâ fenestrata." a somewhat more compressed analysis of the contents of these volumes appeared in the _sylloge opusculorum hist.-crit., literariorum, j.a. fabricii, hamb._ , to., p. , --preceded, however, by a pleasing, yet brief account of the leading features of erasmus's literary life. tn one of his letters to colet, erasmus describes himself as "a very poor fellow in point of fortune, and wholly exempt from ambition." a little before his death he sold his library to one john a lasco, a polonese, for only florins. (of this amiable foreigner, see stypye's [transcriber's note: strype's] _life of crammer_ [transcriber's note: cranmer]; b. ii., ch. xxii.) nor did he--notwithstanding his services to booksellers--and although every press was teeming with his lucubrations--and especially that of colinæeus--(which alone put forth , copies of his _colloquies_) ever become much the wealthier for his talents as an author. his bibliomaniacal spirit was such, that he paid most liberally those who collated or described works of which he was in want. in another of his letters, he declares that "he shall not recieve [transcriber's note: receive] an _obolus_ that year; as he had spent more than what he had gained in rewarding those who had made book-researches for him;" and he complains, after being five months at cambridge, that he had, fruitlessly, spent upwards of fifty crowns. "noblemen," says he, "love and praise literature, and my lucubrations; but they praise and do not reward." to his friend eobanus hessus (vol. vi., ), he makes a bitter complaint "de comite quodam." for the particulars, see the last mentioned authority, p. , . in the year , godenus, to whom erasmus had bequeathed a silver bowl, put forth a facetious catalogue of his works, in hexameter and pentameter verses; which was printed at louvain by martin, without date, in to.; and was soon succeeded by two more ample and methodical ones by the same person in , to.; printed by froben and episcopius. see marchand's _dict. bibliogr. et histor._, vol. i., p. , . the bibliomaniac may not object to be informed that froben, shortly after the death of his revered erasmus, put forth this first edition of the entire works of the latter, in nine folio volumes; and that accurate and magnificent as is le clerc's edition of the same (may i venture to hint at the rarity of large paper copies of it?), "it takes no notice of the _index expurgatorius_ of the early edition of froben, which has shown a noble art of curtailing this, as well as other authors." see _knight's life of erasmus_, p. . the mention of froben and erasmus, thus going down to immortality together, induces me to inform the curious reader that my friend mr. edwards is possessed of a chaste and elegant painting, by fuseli, of this distinguished author and printer--the portraits being executed after the most authentic representations. erasmus is in the act of calmly correcting the press, while froben is urging with vehemence some emendations which he conceives to be of consequence, but to which his master seems to pay no attention! and now having presented the reader (p. , ante) with the _supposed_ study of colet, nothing remains but to urge him to enter in imagination, with myself, into the _real_ study of erasmus; of which we are presented with the exterior in the following view--taken from dr. knight's _life of erasmus_; p. . [illustration] i shall conclude this erasmiana (if the reader will premit [transcriber's note: permit] me so to entitle it) with a wood-cut exhibition of a different kind: it being perhaps the earliest portrait of erasmus published in this country. it is taken from a work entitled, "_the maner and forme of confesion_," printed by byddell [transcriber's note: byddel], in vo., without date; and is placed immediately under an address from erasmus, to moline, bishop of condome; dated ; in which the former complains bitterly of "the pain and grief of the reins of his back." the print is taken from a tracing of the original, made by me, from a neat copy of byddel's edition, in the collection of roger wilbraham, esq. i am free to confess that it falls a hundred degrees short of albert durer's fine print of him, executed a.d. . [illustration: ]] lis. let me go and bring it here! while you talk thus, i long to feast my eyes upon these grand books. lysand. you need not. nor must i give to erasmus a greater share of attention than is due to him. we have a large and varied field--or rather domain--yet to pass over. wishing, therefore, lorenzo speedily to purchase a small bronze figure of him, from the celebrated large one at rotterdam, and to place the same upon a copy of his first edition of the _greek testament_ printed _upon vellum_,[ ] by way of a pedestal--i pass on to the notice of other bibliomaniacs of this period. [footnote : in the library of york cathedral there is a copy of the first edition of erasmus's greek and latin testament, , fol., struck off upon vellum. this, i believe, was never before generally known.] subdued be every harsher feeling towards wolsey, when we contemplate even the imperfect remains of his literary institutions which yet survive! that this chancellor and cardinal had grand views, and a magnificent taste, is unquestionable: and i suppose few libraries contained more beautiful or more numerous copies of precious volumes than his own. for, when in favour with his royal master, henry viii., wolsey had, in all probability, such an ascendency over him as to coax from him almost every choice book which he had inherited from his father, henry vii.; and thus i should apprehend, although no particular mention is made of his library in the inventories of his goods[ ] which have been published, there can be no question about such a character as that of wolsey having numerous copies of the choicest books, bound in velvet of all colours, embossed with gold or silver, and studded even with precious stones! i conceive that his own _prayer book_ must have been gorgeous in the extreme! unhappy man--a pregnant and ever-striking example of the fickleness of human affairs, and of the instability of human grandeur! when we think of thy baubles and trappings--of thy goblets of gold, and companies of retainers--and turn our thoughts to shakspeare's shepherd, as described in the soliloquy of one of our monarchs, we are fully disposed to admit the force of such truths as have been familiar to us from boyhood, and which tell us that those shoulders feel the most burdened upon which the greatest load of responsibility rests. peace to the once proud, and latterly repentant, spirit of wolsey! [footnote : in the last _variorum edition of shakspeare_, , vol. xv., p. , we are referred by mr. douce to "the particulars of this inventory at large, in stowe's _chronicle_, p. , edit. :" my copy of stowe is of the date of ; but, not a syllable is said of it in the place here referred to, or at any other page; although the account of wolsey is ample and interesting. mr. douce (_ibid._) says that, among the _harl. mss._ (no. ) there is one entitled "an inventorie of cardinal wolsey's rich householde stuffe; temp. hen. viii.; the original book, as it seems, kept by his own officers." in mr. gutch's _collectanea curiosa_, vol. ii., - , will be found a copious account of wolsey's plate:--too splendid, almost, for belief. to a life and character so well known as are those of wolsey, and upon which dr. fiddes has published a huge folio of many hundred pages, the reader will not here expect any additional matter which may convey much novelty or interest. the following, however, may be worth submitting to his consideration. the cardinal had poetical, as well as political, enemies. skelton and roy, who did not fail to gall him with their sharp lampoons, have shewn us, by their compositions which have survived, that they were no despicable assailants. in the former's "_why come ye not to court?_" we have this caustic passage: he is set so high in his hierarchy of frantic _frenesy_ and foolish fantasy, that in chamber of stars all matters there he mars, clapping his rod on the _borde_ no man dare speake a word; for he hath all the saying without any _renaying_: he rolleth in his records he saith: "how say ye my lords? is not my reason good?" good!--even good--robin-hood? borne upon every side _with pomp and with pride, &c._ to drink and for to eat sweet _ypocras_, and sweet meat, to keep his flesh chaste in lent, for his repast he eateth capons stew'd pheasant and partidge mewed. warton's _hist. engl. poetry_, vol. ii., . steevens has also quoted freely from this poem of skelton; see the editions of _shakspeare_, , and , in the play of "king henry viii." skelton's satire against wolsey is noticed by our chronicler hall: "in this season, the cardinal, by his power legantine, dissolved the convocation at paul's, called by the archbishop of canterbury; and called him and all the clergy to his convocation to westminster, which was never seen before in england; whereof master skelton, a merry poet, wrote: gentle paul lay down thy _sweard_ for peter of westminster hath shaven thy beard." _chronicle_, p. , edit. . in mr. g. ellis's _specimens of the early english poets_, vol. ii., pp. , , there is a curious extract from the same poet's "_image of ypocrycye_"--relating to sir thomas more--which is printed for the first time from "an apparently accurate transcript" of the original, in the possession of mr. heber. from the last mentioned work (vol. ii., p. , &c.), there is rather a copious account of a yet more formidable poetical attack against wolsey, in the "_rede me and be not wroth_," of william roy: a very rare and precious little black-letter volume, which, although it has been twice printed, is scarcely ever to be met with, and was unknown to warton. it will, however, make its appearance in one of the supplemental volumes of mr. park's valuable reprint of the _harleian miscellany_. while the cardinal was thus attacked, in the biting strains of poetry, he was doomed to experience a full share of reprobation in the writings of the most popular theologians. william tyndale stepped forth to shew his zeal against papacy in his "_practise of popishe prelates_," and from this work, as it is incorporated in those of tyndale, barnes, and frith, printed by day in , fol., the reader is presented with the following amusing specimen of the author's vein of humour and indignation: "and as i heard it spoken of divers, he made, by craft of necromancy, graven imagery to bear upon him; wherewith he bewitched the king's mind--and made the king to doat upon him, more than he ever did on any lady or gentlewoman: so that now the king's grace followed him, as he before followed the king. and then what he said, that was wisdom; what he praised, that was honourable only." practise of popishe prelates, p. . at p. , he calls him "porter of heaven." "there he made a journey of gentlemen, arrayed altogether in silks, so much as their very shoes and lining of their boots; more like their mothers than men of war: yea, i am sure that many of their mothers would have been ashamed of so nice and wanton array. howbeit, they went not to make war, but peace, for ever and a day longer. but to speak of the pompous apparel of my lord himself, and of his chaplains, it passeth the xij apostles. i dare swear that if peter and paul had seen them suddenly, and at a blush, they would have been harder in belief that they, or any such, should be their successors than thomas didimus was to believe that christ was risen again from death." _idem_, p. ,--"for the worship of his hat and glory of his precious shoes--when he was pained with the cholic of an evil conscience, having no other shift, because his soul could find no other issue,--he took himself a medicine, _ut emitteret spiritum per posteriora_." exposition upon the first ep. of st. john, p. . thomas lupset, who was a scholar of dean colet, and a sort of _elève_ of the cardinal, (being appointed tutor to a bastard son of the latter) could not suppress his sarcastical feelings in respect of wolsey's pomp and severity of discipline. from lupset's works, printed by berthelet in , mo., i gather, in his address to his "hearty beloved edmond"--that "though he had there with him plenty of books, yet the place suffered him not to spend in them any study: for you shall understand (says he) that i lie waiting on my lord cardinal, whose hours i must observe to be always at hand, lest i should be called when i am not by: the which should be taken for a fault of great negligence. wherefore, that i am now well satiated with the beholding of these gay hangings, that garnish here every wall, i will turn me and talk with you." (_exhortacion to yonge men_, fol. , rev.) dr. wordsworth, in the first volume of his _ecclesiastical biography_, has printed, for the first time, the genuine text of cavendish's interesting life of his reverend master, wolsey. it is well worth perusal. but the reader, i fear, is beginning to be outrageous (having kept his patience, during this long-winded note, to the present moment) for some _bibliomaniacal_ evidence of wolsey's attachment to gorgeous books. he is presented, therefore, with the following case in point. my friend mr. ellis, of the british museum, informs me that, in the splendid library of that establishment, there are two copies of galen's "_methodus medendi_," edited by linacre, and printed at paris, in folio, . one copy, which belonged to henry the eighth, has an illuminated title, with the royal arms at the bottom of the title-page. the other, which is also illuminated, has the cardinal's cap in the same place, above an empty shield. before the dedication to the king, in the latter copy, linacre has inserted an elegant latin epistle to wolsey, in manuscript. the king's copy is rather the more beautiful of the two: but the _unique_ appendage of the latin epistle shews that the editor considered the cardinal a more distinguished bibliomaniac than the monarch.] we have now reached the reformation; upon which, as burnet, collier, and strype, have written huge folio volumes, it shall be my object to speak sparingly: and chiefly as it concerns the history of the bibliomania. a word or two, however, about its origin, spirit, and tendency. it seems to have been at first very equivocal, with henry the eighth, whether he would take any decisive measures in the affair, or not. he hesitated, resolved, and hesitated again.[ ] the creature of caprice and tyranny, he had neither fixed principles, nor settled data, upon which to act. if he had listened to the temperate advice of cromwell or cranmer,[ ] he would have attained his darling object by less decisive, but certainly by more justifiable, means. those able and respectable counsellors saw clearly that violent measures would produce violent results; and that a question of law, of no mean magnitude, was involved in the very outset of the transaction--for there seemed, on the one side, no right to possess; and, on the other, no right to render possession.[ ] [footnote : "the king seemed to think that his subjects owed an entire resignation of their reasons and consciences to him; and, as he was highly offended with those who still adhered to the papal authority, so he could not bear the haste that some were making to a further reformation, before or beyond his allowance. so, in the end of the year , he set out a proclamation, in which he prohibits the importing of all foreign books, or the printing of any at home without license; and the printing of any parts of the scripture, 'till they were examined by the king and his council," &c. "he requires that none may argue against the presence of christ in the sacrament, under the pain of death, and of the loss of their goods; and orders all to be punished who did disuse any rites or ceremonies not then abolished; yet he orders them only to be observed without superstition, only as remembrances, and not to repose in them a trust of salvation."--burnet's _hist. of the reformation_. but long before this obscure and arbitrary act was passed, henry's mind had been a little shaken against papacy from a singular work, published by one fish, called "_the supplication of beggers_." upon this book being read through in the presence of henry, the latter observed, shrewdly enough, "if a man should pull down an old stone wall, and begin at the lower part, the upper part thereof might chance to fall upon his head." "and then he took the book, and put it into his desk, and commanded them, upon their allegiance, that they should not tell to any man that he had seen this book." fox's _book of martyrs_; vol. ii., p. : edit. . sir thomas more answered this work (which depicted, in frightful colours, the rapacity of the roman catholic clergy), in ; see my edition of the latter's _utopia_; vol. i., xciii.] [footnote : "these were some of the resolute steps king henry made towards the obtaining again this long struggled for, and almost lost, right and prerogative of kings, in their own dominions, of being supreme, against the encroachments of the bishops of rome. secretary cromwel had the great stroke in all this. all these counsels and methods were struck out of his head." strype's _ecclesiastical memorials_; vol. i., p. . when great murmurs ensued, on the suppression of the monasteries, because of the cessation of hospitality exercised in them, "cromwell advised the king to sell their lands, at very easie rates, to the gentry in the several counties, obliging them, since they had them upon such terms, to keep up the wonted hospitality. this drew in the gentry apace," &c. burnet's _hist. of the reformation_; vol. i., p. . "archbishop cranmer is said to have counselled and pressed the king to dissolve the monasteries; but for other ends (than those of personal enmity against 'the monks or friars'--or of enriching himself 'with the spoils' of the same); viz. that, out of the revenues of these monasteries, the king might found more bishoprics; and that dioceses, being reduced into less compass, the diocesans might the better discharge their office, according to the scripture and primitive rules.----and the archbishop hoped that, from these ruins, there would be new foundations in every cathedral erected, to be nurseries of learning for the use of the whole diocese." strype's _life of archbishop cranmer_, p. .] [footnote : "a very rational doubt yet remained, how religious persons could alienate and transfer to the king a property, of which they themselves were only tenants for life: and an act of parliament was framed in order to remove all future scruples on this head, and 'settle rapine and sacrilege,' as lord herbert terms them, 'on the king and his heirs for ever.'----it does not appear to have been debated, in either house, whether they had a power to dispossess some hundred thousand persons of their dwellings and fortunes, whom, a few years before, they had declared to be good subjects: if such as live well come under that denomination."--"now," says sir edward coke, "observe the conclusion of this tragedy. in that very parliament, when the great and opulent priory of st. john of jerusalem was given to the king, and which was the last monastery seized on, he demanded a fresh subsidy of the clergy and laity: he did the same again within two years; and again three years after; and since the dissolution exacted great loans, and against law obtained them."--_life of reginald pole_; vol. i., p. - : edit. , vo. coke's th _institute_, fol. .] latimer, more hasty and enthusiastic than his episcopal brethren, set all the engines of his active mind to work, as if to carry the point by a _coup de main_; and although his resolution was, perhaps, upon more than one occasion, shaken by the sufferings of the innocent, yet, by his example, and particularly by his sermons,[ ] he tried to exasperate every protestant bosom against the occupiers of monasteries and convents. [footnote : "it was once moved by latymer, the good bishop of worcester, that two or three of these foundations might be spared in each diocese, for the sake of hospitality. which gave the foresaid bishop occasion to move the lord crumwell once in the behalf of the _priory of malvern_." strype's _ecclesiastical memorials_, vol. i., . latimer's letter is here printed; and an interesting one it is. speaking of the prior, he tells cromwell that "the man is old, a good housekeeper, feedeth many; and that, daily. for the country is poor, and full of penury." but the hospitality and infirmities of this poor prior were less likely to operate graciously upon the rapacious mind of henry than "the marks to the king, and marks more to the said lord crumwell," which he tendered at the same time. see strype, _ibid._ for the credit of latimer, i hope this worthy prior was not at the head of the priory when the former preached before the king, and thus observed: "to let pass the _solempne_ and nocturnal bacchanals, the prescript miracles, that are done upon certain days in the west part of england, who hath not heard? i think ye have heard of saint _blesis's_ heart, which is _at malvern_, and of saint algar's bones, how long they deluded the people!" see latimer's _sermons_: edit. , to.: fol. , rect. in these sermons, as is justly said above, there are many cutting philippics--especially against "in-preaching prelates;" some of whom latimer doth not scruple to call "minters--dancers--crouchers--pamperers of their paunches, like a monk that maketh his jubilee--mounchers in their mangers, and moilers in their gay manors and mansions:" see fol. , rect. nevertheless, there are few productions which give us so lively and interesting a picture of the manners of the age as the sermons of latimer; which were spoilt in an "_editio castrata_" that appeared in the year , vo. but latimer was not the only popular preacher who directed his anathemas against the roman catholic clergy. the well known john fox entered into the cause of the reformation with a zeal and success of which those who have slightly perused his compositions can have but a very inadequate idea. the following curious (and i may add very interesting) specimen of fox's pulpit eloquence is taken from "_a sermon of christ crucified, preached at paule's crosse, the friday before easter, commonly called good fridaie_:"--"let me tell you a story, which i remember was done about the beginning of queen mary's reign, anno . there was a certain message sent, not from heaven, but from rome: not from god, but from the pope: not by any apostle, but by a certain cardinal, who was called cardinal poole, legatus a latere, legatus natus, a legate from the pope's own white side, sent hither into england. this cardinal legate, first coming to dover, was honourably received and brought to greenwich: where he again, being more honourably received by lords of high estate, and of the privy council (of whom some are yet alive) was conducted thence to the privy stairs of the queen's court at westminster, no less person than king philip himself waiting upon him, and receiving him; and so was brought to the queen's great chamber, she then being, or else pretending, not to be well at ease. stephen gardiner, the bishop of winchester, and lord chancellor of england, receiving this noble legate in the king and the queen's behalf, to commend and set forth the authority of this legate, the greatness of his message, and the supreme majesty of the sender, before the public audience of the whole parliament at that time assembled, there openly protested, with great solemnity of words, what a mighty message, and of what great importance was then brought into the realm, even the greatest message (said he) that ever came into england, and therefore desired them to give attentive and inclinable ears to such a famous legation, sent from so high authority." "well, and what message was this? forsooth, that the realm of england should be reconciled again unto their father the pope; that is to say, that the queen, with all her nobility and sage council, with so many learned prelates, discreet lawyers, worthy commons, and the whole body of the realm of england, should captive themselves, and become underlings to an italian stranger, and friarly priest, sitting in rome, which never knew england, never was here, never did, or shall do, england good. and this forsooth (said gardiner) was the greatest ambassage, the weightiest legacy that ever came to england: forgetting belike either this message of god, sent here by his apostles unto vs, or else because he saw it made not so much for his purpose as did the other, he made the less account thereof." "well, then, and will we see what a weighty message this was that gardiner so exquisitely commended? first, the sender is gone, the messenger is gone, the queen is gone, and the message gone, and yet england standeth not a rush the better. of which message i thus say, answering again to gardiner, _per inversionem rhetoricam_, that, as he sayeth, it was the greatest--so i say again, it was the lightest--legacy; the most ridiculous trifle, and most miserablest message, of all other that ever came, or ever shall come, to england, none excepted, for us to be reconciled to an outlandish priest, and to submit our necks under a foreign yoke. what have we to do more with him than with the great calypha of damascus? if reconciliation ought to follow, where offences have risen, the pope hath offended us more than his coffers are able to make us amends. we never offended him. but let the pope, with his reconciliation and legates, go, as they are already gone (god be thanked): and i beseech god so they may be gone, that they never come here again. england never fared better than when the pope did most curse it. and yet i hear whispering of certain privy reconcilers, sent of late by the pope, which secretly creep in corners. but this i leave to them that have to do with all. let us again return to our matter."--_imprinted by jhon daie_, &c., , vo., sign. a. vij.-b. i.] with henry, himself, the question of spiritual supremacy was soon changed, or merged (as the lawyers call it) into the exclusive consideration of adding to his wealth. the visitors who had been deputed to inspect the abbies, and to draw up reports of the same (some of whom, by the bye, conducted themselves with sufficient baseness[ ]), did not fail to inflame his feelings by the tempting pictures which they drew of the riches appertaining to these establishments.[ ] another topic was also strongly urged upon henry's susceptible mind: the alleged abandoned lives of the owners of them. these were painted with a no less overcharged pencil:[ ] so that nothing now seemed wanting but to set fire to the train of combustion which had been thus systematically laid. [footnote : among the visitors appointed to carry into execution the examination of the monasteries, was a dr. london; who "was afterwards not only a persecutor of protestants, but a suborner of false witnesses against them, and was now zealous even to officiousness in suppressing the monasteries. he also studied to frighten the abbess of godstow into a resignation. she was particularly in cromwell's favour:" &c. burnet: _hist. of the reformation_, vol. iii., p. . among burnet's "collection of records," is the letter of this said abbess, in which she tells cromwell that "doctor london was suddenly _cummyd_ unto her, with a great rout with him; and there did threaten her and her sisters, saying that he had the king's commission to suppress the house, spite of her teeth. and when he saw that she was content that he should do all things according to his commission, and shewed him plain that she would never surrender to his band, being her ancient enemy--then he began to entreat her and to inveigle her sisters, one by one, otherwise than ever she heard tell that any of the king's subjects had been handel'd;" vol. iii., p. . "collection." it is not very improbable that this treatment of godstow nunnery formed a specimen of many similar visitations. as to london himself, he ended his days in the fleet, after he had been adjudged to ride with his face to the horse's tail, at windsor and oakingham. fox in his _book of martyrs_, has given us a print of this transaction; sufficiently amusing. dod, in his _church history_, vol. i., p. , has of course not spared dr. london. but see, in particular, fuller's shrewd remarks upon the character of these visitors, or "emissaries;" _church history_, b. vi., pp. , .] [footnote : "the yearly revenue of all the abbies suppressed is computed at £ , _l._ _s._ _d._ besides this, the money raised out of the stock of cattle and corn, out of the timber, lead, and bells; out of the furniture, plate, and church ornaments, amounted to a vast sum, as may be collected from what was brought off from the monastery of st. edmonsbury. hence, as appears from records, marks of gold and silver, besides several jewels of great value, were seized by the visitors." collier's _ecclesiastical history_, vol. ii., . see also burnet's similar work, vol. i., p. . collier specifies the valuation of certain monasteries, which were sufficiently wealthy; but he has not noticed that of st. swithin's in winchester--of which strype has given so minute and interesting an inventory. a lover of old coins and relics may feed his imagination with a gorgeous picture of what might have been the "massive silver and golden crosses and shrines garnished with stones"--but a tender-hearted bibliomaniac will shed tears of agony on thinking of the fate of "a book of the four evangelists, written al with gold; and the utter side of plate of gold!" _life of cranmer_, _appendix_, pp. - .] [footnote : the amiable and candid strype has polluted the pages of his valuable _ecclesiastical memorials_ with an account of such horrid practices, supposed to have been carried on in monasteries, as must startle the most credulous anti-papist; and which almost leads us to conclude that _a legion of fiends_ must have been let loose upon these "friar rushes!" the author tells us that he takes his account from authentic documents--but these documents turn out to be the letters of the visitors; and of the character of one of these the reader has just had a sufficient proof. those who have the work here referred to, vol. i., p. - , may think, with the author of it, that "this specimen is enough and too much." what is a little to be marvelled at, strype suffers his prejudices against the conduct of the monks to be heightened by a letter from one of the name of beerly, at pershore; who, in order that he might escape the general wreck, turned tail upon his brethren, and vilified them as liberally as their professed enemies had done. now, to say the least, this was not obtaining what chief baron gilbert, in his famous law of evidence, has laid it down as necessary to be obtained--"the best possible evidence that the nature of the case will admit of." it is worth remarking that fuller has incorporated a particular account of the names of the abbots and of the carnal enormities of which they are supposed to have been guilty; but he adds that he took it from the d edition of speed's _hist. of great britain_, and (what is worth special notice) that it was not to be found in the prior ones: "being a posthume addition after the author's death, attested in the margine with the authority of henry steven his _apologie for herodotus_, who took the same out of an english book, containing the _vileness discovered at the visitation of monasteries_." _church history_, b. vi., pp. , .] a pause perhaps of one moment might have ensued. a consideration of what had been done, in these monasteries, for the preservation of the literature of past ages, and for the cultivation of elegant and peaceful pursuits, might, like "the still small voice" of conscience, have suspended, for a second, the final sentence of confiscation. the hospitality for which the owners of these places had been, and were then, eminently distinguished; but more especially the yet higher consideration of their property having been left with them only as a sacred pledge to be handed down, unimpaired, to their successors--these things,[ ] one would think, might have infused some little mercy and moderation into henry's decrees! [footnote : there are two points, concerning the subversion of monasteries, upon which all sensible roman catholics make a rest, and upon which they naturally indulge a too well-founded grief. the dispersion of books or interruption of study; and the breaking up of ancient hospitality. let us hear collier upon the subject: "the advantages accruing to the public from these religious houses were considerable, upon several accounts. to mention some of them: the temporal nobility and gentry had a creditable way of providing for their younger children. those who were disposed to withdraw from the world, or not likely to make their fortunes in it, had a handsome retreat to the cloister. here they were furnished with conveniences for life and study, with opportunities for thought and recollection; and, over and above, passed their time in a condition not unbecoming their quality."--"the abbies were very serviceable places for the education of young people: every convent had one person or more assigned for this business. thus the children of the neighbourhood were taught grammar and music without any charge to their parents. and, in the nunneries, those of the other sex learned to work and read english, with some advances into latin," &c.--"farther, it is to the abbies we are obliged for most of our historians, both of church and state: these places of retirement had both most learning and leisure for such undertakings: neither did they want information for such employment," _ecclesiastical history_, vol. ii., . a host of protestant authors, with lord herbert at the head of them, might be brought forward to corroborate these sensible remarks of collier. the hospitality of the monastic life has been on all sides admitted; and, according to lord coke, one of the articles of impeachment against cardinal wolsey was that he had caused "this hospitality and relief to grow into decay and disuse;" which was "a great cause that there were so many vagabonds, beggars, and thieves;"--_fourth institute_; p. , edit. . so that the author of an ancient, and now rarely perused work had just reason, in describing the friars of his time as "living in common upon the goods of a monastery, either gotten by common labour, or else upon lands and possessions where with the monastery was endowed." _pype or tonne of the lyfe of perfection_; fol. clxxii., rev. , to. and yet, should the active bibliomaniac be disposed to peruse this work, after purchasing mr. triphook's elegant copy of the same, he might probably not think very highly of the author's good sense, when he found him gravely telling us that "the appetite of clean, sweet, and fair, or fine cloaths, and oft-washing and curious _pykyng_ of the body, is an enemy of chastity," fol. ccxxix. rect. the devastation of books was, i fear, sufficiently frightful to warrant the following writers in their respective conclusions. "a judicious author (says ashmole) speaking of the dissolution of our monasteries, saith thus: many manuscripts, guilty of no other superstition then (having) _red letters_ in the front, were condemned to the fire: and here a principal key of antiquity was lost, to the great prejudice of posterity. indeed (such was learning's misfortune, at that great devastation of our english libraries, that) where a _red letter_ or a mathematical diagram appeared, they were sufficient to entitle the book to be popish or diabolical." _theatrum chemicum_; prolegom. a. . rev. "the avarice of the late intruders was so mean, and their ignorance so undistinguishing, that, when the books happened to have costly covers, they tore them off, and threw away the works, or turned them to the vilest purposes." _life of reginald pole_; vol. i., p. - , edit. , vo. the author of this last quotation then slightly notices what bale has said upon these book-devastations; and which i here subjoin at full length; from my first edition of this work:--"never (says bale) had we been offended for the loss of our libraries, being so many in number, and in so desolate places for the more part, if the chief monuments and most notable works of our excellent writers had been preserved. if there had been, in every shire of england, but one solempne library, to the preservation of those noble works, and preferment of good learning in our posterity, it had been yet somewhat. but to destroy all, without consideration, is, and will be, unto england, for ever, a most horrible infamy among the grave seniors of other nations. a great number of them, which purchased those superstitious mansions, reserved of those library-books some to serve the _jakes_, some to scour their candlesticks, and some to rub their boots: some they sold to the grocers and soap sellers; some they sent over sea to the book-binders, not in small number, but at times whole ships full, to the wondering of the foreign nations. yea, the universities of the realm are not all clear of this detestable fact. but cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gains, and shameth his natural country. i know a merchant man, which shall at this time be nameless, that _bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings price_; a shame it is to be spoken! this stuff hath he occupied in the stead of grey paper, by the space of more than ten years, and yet he hath store enough for as many years to come!" preface to _leland's laboryouse journey_, &c., , vo. reprint of ; sign. c.] phil. but what can be said in defence of the dissolute lives of the monks? lysand. dissoluteness shall never be defended by me, let it be shewn by whom it may; and therefore i will not take the part, on this head, of the tenants of old monasteries. but, philemon, consider with what grace could this charge come from him who had "shed innocent blood," to gratify his horrid lusts? lis. yet, tell me, did not the dissolution of these libraries in some respects equally answer the ends of literature, by causing the books to come into other hands? lysand. no doubt, a few studious men reaped the benefit of this dispersion, by getting possession of many curious volumes with which, otherwise, they might never have been acquainted. if my memory be not treacherous, the celebrated grammarian robert wakefield[ ] was singularly lucky in this way. it is time, however, to check my rambling ideas. a few more words only, and we cease to sermonize upon the reformation. [footnote : "this robert wakefield was the prime linguist of his time, having obtained beyond the seas the greek, hebrew, chaldaic, and syriac tongues. in one thing he is to be commended, and that is this, that he carefully preserved divers books of greek and hebrew at the dissolution of religious houses, and especially some of those in the library of ramsey abbey, composed by laurence holbecke, monk of that place, in the reign of henry iv. he died at london th october, , leaving behind him the name of _polypus_, as leland is pleased to style him, noting that he was of a witty and crafty behaviour." wood's _hist. of colleges and halls_, p. , gutch's edit.] phil. there is no occasion to be extremely laconic. the evening has hardly yet given way to night. the horizon, i dare say, yet faintly glows with the setting-sun-beams. but proceed as you will. lysand. the commotions which ensued from the arbitrary measures of henry were great;[ ] but such as were naturally to be expected. at length henry died, and a young and amiable prince reigned for a few months. mary next ascended the throne; and the storm took an opposite direction. then an attempt was made to restore chalices, crucifixes, and missals. but the short period of her sovereignty making way for the long and illustrious one of her sister elizabeth, the cecils and walsinghams[ ] united their great talents with the equally vigorous ones of the queen and her favourite archbishop parker, in establishing that form of religion which, by partaking in a reasonable degree of the solemnity of the romish church, and by being tempered with great simplicity and piety in its prayers, won its way to the hearts of the generality of the people. our _great english bibles_[ ] were now restored to their conspicuous situations; and the bibliomania, in consequence, began to spread more widely and effectively. [footnote : fuller has devoted one sentence only, and that not written with his usual force, to the havoc and consternation which ensued on the devastation of the monasteries. _ch. hist._, b. vi., p. . burnet is a little more moving: _hist. of the reformation_; vol. i., p. . but, from the foregoing premises, the reader may probably be disposed to admit the conclusion of a virulent roman catholic writer, even in its fullest extent: namely, that there were "subverted monasteries, overthrown abbies, broken churches, torn castles, rent towers, overturned walls of towns and fortresses, with the confused heaps of all ruined monuments." _treatise of treasons_, , vo., fol. , rev.] [footnote : there are few bibliographers at all versed in english literature and history, who have not heard, by some side wind or other, of the last mentioned work; concerning which herbert is somewhat interesting in his notes: _typographical antiquities_, vol. iii., p. . the reader is here presented with a copious extract from this curious and scarce book--not for the sake of adding to these ponderous notes relating to the reformation--(a subject, upon which, from a professional feeling, i thought it my duty to say something!)--but for the sake of showing how dexterously the most important events and palpable truths may be described and perverted by an artful and headstrong disputant. the work was written expressly to defame elizabeth, cecil, and bacon, and to introduce the romish religion upon the ruins of the protestant. the author thus gravely talks "_of queen mary and her predecessors._ "she (mary) found also the whole face of the commonwealth settled and acquieted in the ancient religion; in which, and by which, all kings and queens of that realm (from as long almost before the conquest as that conquest was before that time) had lived, reigned, and maintained their states; and the terrible correction of those few that swerved from it notorious, as no man could be ignorant of it. as king john, without error in religion, for contempt only of the see apostolic, plagued with the loss of his state, till he reconciled himself, and acknowledged to hold his crown of the pope. king henry viii., likewise, with finding no end of heading and hanging, till (with the note of tyranny for wasting his nobility) he had headed him also that procured him to it. fol. , . "_libellous character of cecil._ "in which stem and trunk (being rotten at heart, hollow within, and without sound substance) hath our spiteful pullet (cecil) laid her ungracious eggs, mo than a few: and there hath hatched sundry of them, and brought forth chickens of her own feather, i warrant you. a hen i call him, as well for his cackling, ready and smooth tongue, wherein he giveth place to none, as for his deep and subtle art in hiding his serpentine eggs from common men's sight: chiefly for his hennish heart and courage, which twice already hath been well proved to be as base and deject at the sight of any storm of adverse fortune, as ever was hen's heart at the sight of a fox. and, had he not been by his confederate, as with a dunghill cock, trodden as it were and gotten with egg, i doubt whether ever his hennish heart, joined to his shrewd wit, would have served him, so soon to put the q.'s green and tender state in so manifest peril and adventure. fol. , rect. "_libellous characters of cecil and n. bacon._ "let the houses and possessions of these two catalines be considered, let their furniture, and building, let their daily purchases, and ready hability to purchase still, let their offices and functions wherein they sit, let their titles, and styles claimed and used, let their places in council, let their authority over the nobility, let their linking in alliance with the same, let their access to the prince, let their power and credit with her: let this their present state, i say, in all points (being open and unknown to no men) be compared with their base parentage and progeny, (the one raised out of the robes, and the other from a _sheeprive's_ son) and let that give sentence as well of the great difference of the tastes, that the several fruits gathered of this tree by your q., and by them do yield, as whether any man at this day approach near unto them in any condition wherein advancement consisteth. yea, mark you the jollity and pride that in this prosperity they shew; the port and countenance that every way they carry; in comparison of them that be noble by birth. behold at whose doors your nobility attendeth. consider in whose chambers your council must sit, and to whom for resolutions they must resort; and let these things determine both what was the purpose indeed, and hidden intention of that change of religion, and who hath gathered the benefits of that mutation: that is to say, whether for your q., for your realms, or for their own sakes, the same at first was taken in hand, and since pursued as you have seen. for according to the principal effects of every action must the intent of the act be deemed and presumed. for the objected excuses (that they did it for conscience, or for fear of the french) be too frivolous and vain to abuse any wise man. for they that under king henry were as catholic, as the six articles required: that under king edward were such protestants as the protector would have them; that under q. mary were catholics again, even to creeping to the cross: and that under q. elizabeth were first lutheran, setting up parker, cheiny, gest, bill, &c., then calvinists, advancing grindall, juell, horne, &c.: then puritans, maintaining sampson, deering, humfrey, &c.; and now (if not anabaptists and arians) plain machiavellians, yea, that they persuade in public speeches that man hath free liberty to dissemble his religion, and for authority do allege their own examples and practice of feigning one religion for another in q. mary's time (which containeth a manifest evacuation of christ's own coming and doctrine, of the apostles, preaching and practice, of the blood of the martyrs, of the constancy of all confessors; yea, and of the glorious vain deaths of all the stinking martyrs of their innumerable sects of hereticks, one and other having always taught the confession of mouth to be as necessary to salvation as the belief of heart): shall these men now be admitted to plead conscience in religion; and can any man now be couzined so much, as to think that these men by conscience were then moved to make that mutation?" fol. , . "at home, likewise, apparent it is how they provided, every way to make themselves strong there also. for being by their own marriages allied already to the house of suffolk of the blood royal, and by consequence thereof to the house of hertford also, and their children thereby incorporated to both: mark you how now by marriage of their children with wily wit and wealth together, they wind in your other noblest houses unto them that are left, i mean in credit and countenance. consider likewise how, at their own commendation and preferment, they have erected, as it were, almost a new half of your nobility (of whom also they have reason to think themselves assured) and the rest then (that were out of hope to be won to their faction) behold how, by sundry fine devices, they are either cut off, worn out, fled, banished or defaced at home," &c., fol. , rect. the good lord burghley, says strype, was so moved at this slander that he uttered these words: "god amend his spirit, and confound his malice." and by way of protestation of the integrity and faithfulness of both their services, "god send this estate no worse meaning servants, in all respects, than we two have been." _annals of the reformation_, vol. ii., . camden's _hist. of q. elizabeth_, p. ,--as quoted by herbert.] [footnote : "all curates must continually call upon their parochians to provide a book of the _holy bible in english_, of the largest form, within days next after the publication hereof, that may be chained in some open place in the church," &c. injunctions by lee, archbishop of york: burnet's _hist. of the reformation_, vol. iii., p. , collections. this custom of fixing a great bible in the centre of a place of worship yet obtains in some of the chapels attached to the colleges at oxford. that of queen's, in particular, has a noble brazen eagle, with outstretched wings, upon which the foundation members read the lessons of the day in turn.] loren. had you not better confine yourself to personal anecdote, rather than enter into the boundless field of historical survey? lysand. i thank you for the hint. having sermonized upon the general features of the reformation, we will resume the kind of discourse with which we at first set out. phil. but you make no mention of the number of curious and fugitive pamphlets of the day, which were written in order to depreciate and exterminate the roman catholic religion? some of these had at least the merit of tartness and humour. lysand. consult fox's _martyrology_,[ ] if you wish to have some general knowledge of these publications; although i apprehend you will not find in that work any mention of the poetical pieces of skelton and roy; nor yet of ramsay. [footnote : the curious reader who wishes to become master of all the valuable, though sometimes loose, information contained in this renowned work--upon which dr. wordsworth has pronounced rather a warm eulogium (_ecclesiastical biography_, vol. i., p. xix.)--should secure the _first_ edition, as well as the latter one of , or ; inasmuch as this first impression, of the date of , is said by hearne to be "omnium optima:" see his adami de domerham, _hist. de reb. gest. glaston._, vol. i., p. xxii. i also learn, from an original letter of anstis, in the possession of mr. john nichols, that "the late editions are not quite so full in some particulars, and that many things are left out about the protector seymour."] loren. skelton and roy are in my library;[ ] but who is ramsay? [footnote : vide p. , ante.] lysand. he wrote a comical poetical satire against the romish priests, under the title of "_a plaister for a galled horse_,"[ ] which raynald printed in a little thin quarto volume of six or seven pages. [footnote : in herbert's _typographical antiquities_, vol. i., p. , will be found rather a slight notice of this raw and vulgar satire. it has, however, stamina of its kind; as the reader may hence judge: mark the gesture, who that lyst; first a shorne shauelynge, clad in a clowt, bearinge the name of an honest priest, and yet in no place a starker lowte. a whore monger, a dronkard, ye makyn him be snowte-- at the alehouses he studieth, till hys witte he doth lacke. such are your minysters, to bringe thys matter about: but guppe ye god-makers, beware your galled backe. then wraped in a knaues skynne, as ioly as my horse, before the aulter, in great contemplacion confessinge the synnes of his lubbrysh corse to god and all saynctes, he counteth hys abhomination then home to the aulter, with great saintification with crosses, and blesses, with his boy lytle jacke: thus forth goeth syr jhon with all his preparation. but guppe ye god-makers, beware your galled backe. then gloria in excelsis for ioye dothe he synge more for his fat liuinge, than for devocion: and many there be that remember another thinge which syng not wyth mery hart for lacke of promocion thus some be mery, some be sory according to their porcion then forth cometh collects, bounde up in a packe, for this sainct and that sainct, for sickenes, and extorcion but guppe ye god-makers, beware your galled backe. stanzas, , , . at the sale of mr. brand's books, in , a copy of this rare tract, of six or seven pages, was sold for _l._ _s._ _d._ vide _bibl. brand_, part i., no. . this was surely more than both plaister and horse were worth! a poetical satire of a similar kind, entitled "_john bon and mast person_," was printed by daye and seres; who struck off but a few copies, but who were brought into considerable trouble for the same. the virulence with which the author and printer of this lampoon were persecuted in mary's reign is sufficiently attested by the care which was taken to suppress every copy that could be secured. the only perfect known copy of this rare tract was purchased at the sale of mr. r. forster's books, for the marquis of bute; and mr. stace, the bookseller, had privilege to make a fac-simile reprint of it; of which there were six copies struck off upon vellum. it being now rather common with book-collectors, there is no necessity to make a quotation from it here. indeed there is very little in it deserving of republication.] loren. i will make a memorandum to try to secure this "comical" piece, as you call it; but has it never been reprinted in our "_corpora poetarum anglicorum_?" lysand. never to the best of my recollection. mr. alexander chalmers probably shewed his judgment in the omission of it, in his lately published collection of our poets. a work, which i can safely recommend to you as being, upon the whole, one of the most faithful and useful, as well as elegant, compilations of its kind, that any country has to boast of. but i think i saw it in your library, lorenzo?-- loren. it was certainly there, and bound in stout russia, when we quitted it for this place. lis. dispatch your "gall'd horse," and now--having placed a justly merited wreath round the brow of your poetical editor, proceed--as lorenzo has well said--with personal anecdotes. what has become of wyatt and surrey--and when shall we reach leland and bale? lysand. i crave your mercy, master lisardo! one at a time. gently ride your bibliomaniacal hobby-horse! wyatt and surrey had, beyond all question, the most exquisitely polished minds of their day. they were far above the generality of their compeers. but although hall chooses to notice _the whistle_[ ] of the latter, it does not follow that i should notice his _library_, if i am not able to discover any thing particularly interesting relating to the same. and so, wishing every lover of his country's literature to purchase a copy of the poems of both these heroes,[ ] i march onward to introduce a new friend to you, who preceded leland in his career, and for an account of whom we are chiefly indebted to the excellent and best editor of the works of spencer and milton. did'st ever hear, lisardo, of one william thynne? [footnote : about the year , hall mentions the earl of surrey "on a great coursir richely trapped, and a greate whistle of gold set with stones and perle, hanging at a great and massy chayne baudrick-wise." chronicles: p. , a. see warton's _life of sir thomas pope_: p. , note o., ed. . this is a very amusing page about the custom of wearing whistles, among noblemen, at the commencement of the th century. if franklin had been then alive, he would have had abundant reason for exclaiming that these men "paid too much for their _whistles_!"] [footnote : till the long promised, elaborate, and beautiful edition of the works of sir thomas wyatt and lord surrey, by the rev. dr. nott,[e] shall make its appearance, the bibliomaniac must satisfy his book-appetite, about the editions of the same which have already appeared, by perusing the elegant volumes of mr. george ellis, and mr. park; _specimens of the early english poets_; vol. ii., pp. - : _royal and noble authors_, vol. i., pp. - . as to early black letter editions, let him look at _bibl. pearson_, no. ; where, however, he will find only the th edition of : the first being of the date of . the eighth and last edition was published by tonson, in , vo. it will be unpardonable not to add that the rev. mr. conybeare is in possession of a perfect copy of lord surrey's translation of a part of the Æneid, which is the third only known copy in existence. turn to the animating pages of warton, _hist. engl. poetry_; vol. iii., pp. - , about this translation and its author.] [footnote e: conducting this celebrated book through the press occupied dr. nott several years; it was printed by the father of the printer of this work, in two large to. volumes--and was just finished when, in the year , the bolt court printing-office, and all it contained, was destroyed by fire. only _two_ copies of the works of wyatt and surrey escaped, having been sent to dr. nott by the printer, as _clean sheets_.] lis. pray make me acquainted with him. lysand. you will love him exceedingly when you thoroughly know him; because he was the first man in this country who took pains to do justice to chaucer, by collecting and collating the mutilated editions of his works. moreover, he rummaged a great number of libraries, under the express order of henry viii.; and seems in every respect (if we may credit the apparently frank testimony of his son[ ]), to have been a thoroughbred bibliomaniac. secure mr. todd's _illustrations of gower and chaucer_, and set your heart at ease upon the subject. [footnote : "--but (my father, william thynne) further had commissione to serche all the libraries of england for chaucer's works, so that oute of all the abbies of this realme (which reserved any monuments thereof), he was fully furnished with multitude of bookes," &c. on thynne's discovering chaucer's pilgrim's tale, when henry viii. had read it--"he called (continues the son) my father unto hym, sayinge, 'william thynne, i doubt this will not be allowed, for i suspecte the byshoppes will call thee in question for yt.' to whome my father beinge in great fauore with his prince, sayed, 'yf your grace be not offended, i hope to be protected by you.' whereupon the kinge bydd hym goo his waye and feare not," &c. "but to leave this, i must saye that, in those many written bookes of chaucer, which came to my father's hands, there were many false copyes, which chaucer shewethe in writinge of adam scriuener, of which written copies there came to me, after my father's death, some fyve and twentye," &c. _illustrations of gower and chaucer_; pp. , , . let us not hesitate one moment about the appellation of _helluo librorum_,--justly due to master william thynne!] but it is time to introduce your favourite leland: a bibliomaniac of unparalleled powers and unperishable fame. to entwine the wreath of praise round the brow of this great man seems to have been considered by bale among the most exquisite gratifications of his existence. it is with no small delight, therefore, lorenzo, that i view, at this distance, the marble bust of leland in yonder niche of your library, with a laureate crown upon its pedestal. and with almost equal satisfaction did i observe, yesterday, during the absence of philemon and lisardo at the book-sale, the handsome manner in which harrison,[ ] in his _description of england_, prefixed to holinshed's chronicles, has spoken of this illustrious antiquary. no delays, no difficulties, no perils, ever daunted his personal courage, or depressed his mental energies. enamoured of study, to the last rational moment of his existence, leland seems to have been born for the "laborious journey" which he undertook in search of truth, as she was to be discovered among mouldering records, and worm-eaten volumes. uniting the active talents of a statist with the painful research of an antiquary, he thought nothing too insignificant for observation. the confined streamlet or the capacious river--the obscure village or the populous town--were, with parchment rolls and oaken-covered books, alike objects of curiosity in his philosophic eye! peace to his once vexed spirit!--and never-fading honours attend the academical society in which his youthful mind was disciplined to such laudable pursuits! [footnote : "one helpe, and none of the smallest, that i obtained herein, was by such commentaries as leland had sometime collected of the state of britaine; books vtterlie mangled, defaced with wet and weather, and finallie vnperfect through want of sundrie volumes." _epistle dedicatorie_; vol. i., p. vi., edit. . the history of this great man, and of his literary labours, is most interesting. he was a pupil of william lilly, the first head-master of st. paul's school; and, by the kindness and liberality of a mr. myles, he afterwards received the advantage of a college education, and was supplied with money in order to travel abroad, and make such collections as he should deem necessary for the great work which even then seemed to dawn upon his young and ardent mind. leland endeavoured to requite the kindness of his benefactor by an elegant copy of latin verses, in which he warmly expatiates on the generosity of his patron, and acknowledges that his acquaintance with the _almæ matres_ (for he was of both universities) was entirely the result of such beneficence. while he resided on the continent, he was admitted into the society of the most eminent greek and latin scholars, and could probably number among his correspondents the illustrious names of budæus, erasmus, the stephenses, faber and turnebus. here, too, he cultivated his natural taste for poetry; and, from inspecting the fine books which the italian and french presses had produced, as well as fired by the love of grecian learning, which had fled, on the sacking of constantinople, to take shelter in the academic bowers of the medici--he seems to have matured his plans for carrying into effect the great work which had now taken full possession of his mind. he returned to england, resolved to institute an inquiry into the state of the libraries, antiquities, records, and writings then in existence. having entered into holy orders, and obtained preferment at the express interposition of the king (henry viii.), he was appointed his antiquary and library-keeper; and a royal commission was issued, in which leland was directed to search after "england's antiquities, and peruse the libraries of all cathedrals, abbies, priories, colleges, &c., as also all the places wherein records, writings, and secrets of antiquity were reposited." "before leland's time," says hearne--in a strain which makes one shudder--"all the literary monuments of antiquity were totally disregarded; and students of germany, apprized of this culpable indifference, were suffered to enter our libraries unmolested, and to cut out of the books, deposited there, whatever passages they thought proper--which they afterwards published as relics of the ancient literature of their own country." _pref. to the itinerary._ leland was occupied, without intermission, in his laborious undertaking, for the space of six years; and, on its completion, he hastened to the metropolis to lay at the feet of his sovereign the result of his researches. as john kay had presented his translation of the _siege of rhodes_ to edward iv., as "a gift of his labour," so leland presented his itinerary to henry viii., under the title of _a new year's gift_; and it was first published as such by bale in , vo. "being inflamed," says the author, "with a love to see thoroughly all those parts of your opulent and ample realm, in so much that all my other occupations intermitted, i have so travelled in your dominions both by the sea coasts and the middle parts, sparing neither labour nor costs, by the space of six years past, that there is neither cape nor bay, haven, creek, or pier, river, or confluence of rivers, breaches, wastes, lakes, moors, fenny waters, mountains, valleys, heaths, forests, chases, woods, cities, burghes, castles, principal manor places, monasteries, and colleges, but i have seen them; and noted, in so doing, a whole world of things very memorable." leland moreover tells his majesty--that "by his laborious journey and costly enterprise, he had conserved many good authors, the which otherwise had been like to have perished; of the which part remained in the royal palaces, part also in his own custody," &c. as leland was engaged six years in this literary tour, so he was occupied for a no less period of time in digesting and arranging the prodigious number of mss. which he had collected. but he sunk beneath the immensity of the task. the want of amanuenses, and of other attentions and comforts, seems to have deeply affected him. in this melancholy state, he wrote to archbishop cranmer a latin epistle, in verse, of which the following is the commencement--very forcibly describing his situation and anguish of mind: est congesta mihi domi supellex ingens, aurea, nobilis, venusta, qua totus studeo britanniarum vero reddere gloriam nitori; sed fortuna meis noverca coeptis jam felicibus invidet maligna. quare, ne pereant brevi vel hora multarum mihi noctium labores omnes---- cranmere, eximium decus priorum! implorare tuam benignitatem cogor. the result was that leland lost his senses; and, after lingering two years in a state of total derangement, he died on the th of april, . "prôh tristes rerum humanarum vices! prôh viri optimi deplorandam infelicissimamque sortem!" exclaims dr. smith, in his preface to camden's life, , to. the precious and voluminous mss. of leland were doomed to suffer a fate scarcely less pitiable that [transcriber's note: than] that of their owner. after being pilfered by some, and garbled by others, they served to replenish the pages of stow, lambard, camden, burton, dugdale, and many other antiquaries and historians. "leland's remains," says bagford, "have been ever since a standard to all that have any way treated of the antiquities of england. reginald wolfe intended to have made use of them, although this was not done 'till after his death by harrison, holinshed, and others concerned in that work. harrison transcribed his itinerary, giving a description of england by the rivers, but he did not understand it. they have likewise been made use of by several in part, but how much more complete had this been, had it been finished by himself?" _collectanea_: hearne's edit., ; vol. i., p. lxxvii. polydore virgil, who had stolen from these remains pretty freely, had the insolence to abuse leland's memory--calling him "a vain-glorious man;" but what shall we say to this flippant egotist? who according to caius's testimony (_de antiq. cantab. acad._, lib. .) "to prevent a discovery of the many errors of his own history of england, collected and burnt a greater number of ancient histories and manuscripts than would have loaded a waggon." there are some (among whom i could number a most respectable friend and well qualified judge) who have doubted of the propriety of thus severely censuring polydore virgil; and who are even sceptical about his malpractices. but sir henry savile, who was sufficiently contemporaneous to collect the best evidence upon the subject, thus boldly observes: "nam polydorus, ut homo italus, et in rebus nostris hospes, et (quod caput est) neque in republica versatus, nec magni alioqui vel judicii vel ingenii, pauca ex multis delibans, et falsa plerumque pro veris amplexus, historiam nobis reliquit cum cætera mendosam tum exiliter sanè et jejunè conscriptam." _script. post. bedam._, edit. ; pref. "as for polydore virgil, he hath written either nothing or very little concerning them; and that so little, so false and misbeseeming the ingenuitie of an historian, that he seemeth to have aimed at no other end than, by bitter invectives against henry viii., and cardinal wolsey, to demerit the favour of queen mary," &c., godwyn's translation of the _annales of england_; edit. , author's preface. "it is also remarkable that polydore virgil's and bishop joscelin's edition of gildas's epistle differ so materially that the author of it hardly seems to be one and the same person." this is gale's opinion: _rer. anglican. script. vet._; vol. i., pref., p. . upon the whole--to return to leland--it must be acknowledged that he is a melancholy, as well as illustrious, example of the influence of the bibliomania! but do not let us take leave of him without a due contemplation of his expressive features, as they are given in the frontispiece of the first volume of the lives of leland, hearne, and wood. , vo. [illustration: in refectorio coll. omn. anim. oxon.]] bale follows closely after leland. this once celebrated, and yet respectable, writer had probably more zeal than discretion; but his exertions in the cause of our own church can never be mentioned without admiration. i would not, assuredly, quote bale as a decisive authority in doubtful or difficult cases;[ ] but, as he lived in the times of which he in a great measure wrote, and as his society was courted by the wealthy and powerful, i am not sure whether he merits to be treated with the roughness with which some authors mention his labours. he had, certainly, a tolerable degree of strength in his english style; but he painted with a pencil which reminded us more frequently of the horrific pictures of spagnoletti than of the tender compositions of albano. that he idolized his master, leland, so enthusiastically, will always cover, in my estimation, a multitude of his errors: and that he should leave a scholar's inventory (as fuller saps [transcriber's note: says]), "more books than money behind him," will at least cause him to be numbered among the most renowned bibliomaniacs. [footnote : like all men, who desert a religion which they once enthusiastically profess, bale, after being zealous for the papal superstitions, holding up his hands to rotten posts, and calling them his "fathers in heaven," (according to his own confession) became a zealous protestant, and abused the church of rome with a virulence almost unknown in the writings of his predecessors. but in spite of his coarseness, positiveness, and severity, he merits the great praise of having done much in behalf of the cause of literature. his attachment to leland is, unquestionably, highly to his honour; but his biographies, especially of the romish prelates, are as monstrously extravagant as his plays are incorrigibly dull. he had a certain rough honesty and prompt benevolence of character, which may be thought to compensate for his grosser failings. his reputation as a _bibliomaniac_ is fully recorded in the anecdote mentioned at p. , ante. his "magnum opus," the _scriptores britanniæ_, has already been noticed with sufficient minuteness; vide p. , ante. it has not escaped severe animadversion. francis thynne tells us that bale has "mistaken infynyte thinges in that booke de scriptoribus anglie, being for the most part the collections of lelande." _illustrations of gower and chaucer_; p. . picard, in his wretched edition of _gulielmus neubrigensis_ (edit. , p. ), has brought a severe accusation against the author of having "burnt or torn all the copies of the works which he described, after he had taken the titles of them;" but see this charge successfully rebutted in dr. pegge's _anonymiana_; p. . that bale's library, especially in the department of manuscripts, was both rich and curious, is indisputable, from the following passage in _strype's life of archbishop parker_. "the archbishop laid out for bale's rare collection of mss. immediately upon his death, fearing that they might be gotten by somebody else. therefore he took care to bespeak them before others, and was promised to have them for his money, as he told cecil. and perhaps divers of those books that do now make proud the university library, and that of benet and some other colleges, in cambridge, were bale's," p. . it would seem, from the same authority, that our bibliomaniac "set himself to search the libraries in oxford, cambridge, london (wherein there was but one, and that a slender one), norwich, and several others in norfolk and suffolk: whence he had collected enough for another volume de scriptoribus britannicis." _ibid._ the following very beautiful wood-cut of bale's portrait is taken from the original, of the same size, in the _acta romanorum pontificum_; basil, , vo. a similar one, on a larger scale, will be found in the "_scriptores_," &c., published at basil, , or --folio. mr. price, the principal librarian of the bodleian library, shewed me a rare head of bale, of a very different cast of features--in a small black-letter book, of which i have forgotten the name. [illustration]] before i enter upon the reign of elizabeth, let me pay a passing, but sincere, tribute of respect to the memory of cranmer; whose _great bible_[ ] is at once a monument of his attachment to the protestant religion, and to splendid books. his end was sufficiently lamentable; but while the flames were consuming his parched body, and while his right hand, extended in the midst of them, was reproached by him for its former act of wavering and "offence," he had the comfort of soothing his troubled spirit by reflecting upon what his past life had exhibited in the cause of learning, morality, and religion.[ ] let his memory be respected among virtuous bibliomaniacs! [footnote : i have perused what strype (_life of cranmer_, pp. , , ), lewis (_history of english bibles_, pp. - ), johnson (_idem opus_, pp. - ), and herbert (_typog. antiquities_, vol. i., p. ,) have written concerning the biblical labours of archbishop cranmer; but the accurate conclusion to be drawn about the publication which goes under the name of cranmer's, or the great bible, [transcriber's note: 'is' missing in original] not quite so clear as bibliographers may imagine. however, this is not the place to canvass so intricate a subject. it is sufficient that a magnificent impression of the bible in the english language, with a superb frontispiece (which has been most feebly and inadequately copied for lewis's work), under the archiepiscopal patronage of cranmer, did make its appearance in : and it has been my good fortune to turn over the leaves of the identical copy of it, printed upon vellum, concerning which thomas baker expatiates so eloquently to his bibliomaniacal friend, hearne. _rob. of gloucester's chronicle_; vol. i., p. xix. this copy is in the library of st. john's college, cambridge; and is now placed upon a table, to the right hand, upon entering of the same: although formerly, according to bagford's account, it was "among some old books in a private place nigh the library." _idem_; p. xxii. there is a similar copy in the british museum.] [footnote : "and thus"--says strype--(in a strain of pathos and eloquence not usually to be found in his writings) "we have brought this excellent prelate unto his end, after two years and a half hard imprisonment. his body was not carried to the grave in state, nor buried, as many of his predecessors were, in his own cathedral church, nor inclosed in a monument of marble or touchstone. nor had he any inscription to set forth his praises to posterity. no shrine to be visited by devout pilgrims, as his predecessors, s. dunstan and s. thomas had. shall we therefore say, as the poet doth: marmoreo licinus tumulo jacet, at cato parvo, pompeius nullo. quis putet esse deos? no; we are better christians, i trust, than so: who are taught, that the rewards of god's elect are not temporal but eternal. and cranmer's martyrdom is his monument, and his name will outlast an epitaph or a shrine." _life of cranmer_; p. . it would seem, from the same authority, that ridley, latimer, and cranmer, were permitted to dine together in prison, some little time before they suffered; although they were "placed in separate lodgings that they might not confer together." strype saw "a book of their diet, every dinner and supper, and the charge thereof,"--as it was brought in by the bailiffs attending them. _dinner expenses of ridley, latimer, and cranmer._ bread and ale ii_d._ item, oisters i_d._ item, butter ii_d._ item, eggs ii_d._ item, lyng viii_d._ item, a piece of fresh salmon x_d._ wine iii_d._ cheese and pears ii_d._ _charges for burning ridley and latimer._ _s._ _d._ for three loads of wood fagots item, one load of furs fagots for the carriage of the same item, a post item, two chains item, two staples item, four labourers _charges for burning cranmer._ _s._ _d._ for an of wood fagots, for an and half of furs fagots for the carriage of them to two labourers i will draw the curtain upon this dismal picture, by a short extract from one of cranmer's letters, in which this great and good man thus ingeniously urges the necessity of the scriptures being translated into the english language; a point, by the bye, upon which neither he, nor cromwell, nor latimer, i believe, were at first decided; "god's will and commandment is, (says cranmer) that when the people be gathered together, the minister should use such language as the people may understand, and take profit thereby; or else hold their peace. for as an harp or lute, if it give no certain sound that men may know what is stricken, who can dance after it--for all the sound is vain; so is it vain and profiteth nothing, sayeth almighty god, by the mouth of st. paul, if the priest speak to the people in a language which they know not." _certain most godly, fruitful, and comfortable letters of saintes and holy martyrs, &c._, ; to., fol. .] all hail to the sovereign who, bred up in severe habits of reading and meditation, loved books and scholars to the very bottom of her heart! i consider elizabeth as a royal bibliomaniac of transcendent fame!--i see her, in imagination, wearing her favourite little _volume of prayers_,[ ] the composition of queen catherine parr, and lady tirwit, "bound in solid gold, and hanging by a gold chain at her side," at her morning and evening devotions--afterwards, as she became firmly seated upon her throne, taking an interest in the embellishments of the _prayer book_,[ ] which goes under her own name; and then indulging her strong bibliomaniacal appetites in fostering the institution "for the erecting of _a library and an academy for the study of antiquities and history_."[ ] notwithstanding her earnestness to root out all relics of the roman catholic religion (to which, as the best excuse, we must, perhaps, attribute the sad cruelty of the execution of mary, queen of scots), i cannot in my heart forbear to think but that she secured, for her own book-boudoir, one or two of the curious articles which the commissioners often-times found in the libraries that they inspected: and, amongst other volumes, how she could forbear pouncing upon "_a great pricksong book of parchment_"--discovered in the library of all soul's college[ ]--is absolutely beyond my wit to divine! [illustration] [footnote : of this curious little devotional volume the reader has already had some account (p. , ante); but if he wishes to enlarge his knowledge of the same, let him refer to vol. lx. pt. ii. and vol. lxi. pt. i. of the _gentleman's magazine_. by the kindness of mr. john nichols, i am enabled to present the bibliomaniacal virtuoso with a fac-simile of the copper-plate inserted in the latter volume (p. ) of the authority last mentioned. it represents the golden cover, or binding, of this precious manuscript. of the queen's attachment to works of this kind, the following is a pretty strong proof: "in the bodl. library, among the mss. in mus. num. , are the _epistles of st. paul, &c._, printed in an old black letter in o. which was _queen elizabeth's own book_, and her own hand writing appears at the beginning, viz.: "august. i walke many times into the pleasant fieldes of the holy scriptures, where i plucke up the goodliesome herbes of sentences by pruning: eate them by reading: chawe them by musing: and laie them up at length in the hie seate of memorie by gathering them together: that so having tasted their sweetenes i may the lesse perceave the bitterness of this miserable life." the covering is done in needle work by the queen [then princess] herself, and thereon are these sentences, viz. on one side, on the borders; celvm patria: scopvs vitÆ xpvs. christvs via. christo vive. in the middle a heart, and round about it, eleva cor svrsvm ibi vbi e.c. [est christus]. on the other side, about the borders, beatvs qvi divitias scriptvrÆ legens verba vertit in opera. in the middle a star, and round it, vicit omnia pertinax virtvs with e.c., _i.e._ as i take it, elisabetha captiva, or [provided it refer to virtus] elisabethÆ captivÆ, she being, then, when she worked this covering, a prisoner, if i mistake not, at woodstock." _tit. liv. for. jul. vit. henrici_ v., p. - . [illustration]] [footnote : in the prayer-book which goes by the name of queen elizabeth's, there is a portrait of her majesty kneeling upon a superb cushion, with elevated hands, in prayer. this book was first printed in ; and is decorated with wood-cut borders of considerable spirit and beauty; representing, among other things, some of the subjects of holbein's dance of death. the last impression is of the date of . vide _bibl. pearson_; no. . the presentation copy of it was probably printed upon vellum.[f]] [footnote : the famous john dee entreated queen mary to erect an institution similar [transcriber's note: 'to' missing in original] the one above alluded to. if she adopted the measure, dee says that "her highnesse would have a most notable library, learning wonderfully be advanced, the passing excellent works of our forefathers from rot and worms preserved, and also hereafter continually the whole realm may (through her grace's goodness) use and enjoy the incomparable treasure so preserved: where now, no one student, no, nor any one college, hath half a dozen of those excellent jewels, but the whole stock and store thereof drawing nigh to utter destruction, and extinguishing, while here and there by private men's negligence (and sometimes malice) many a famous and excellent author's book is rent, burnt, or suffered to rot and decay. by your said suppliant's device your grace's said library might, in very few years, most plentifully be furnisht, and that without any one penny charge unto your majesty, or doing injury to any creature." in another supplicatory article, dated xv. jan. , dee advises copies of the monuments to be taken, and the original, after the copy is taken, to be restored to the owner. that there should be "allowance of all necessary charges, as well toward the riding and journeying for the recovery of the said worthy monuments, as also for the copying out of the same, and framing of necessary stalls, desks, and presses."--he concludes with proposing to make copies of all the principal works in ms. "in the notablest libraries beyond the sea"--"and as concerning all other excellent authors printed, that they likewise shall be gotten in wonderful abundance, their carriage only to be chargeable." he supposes that three months' trial would shew the excellence of his plan; which he advises to be instantly put into practice "for fear of the spreading of it abroad might cause many to hide and convey away their good and ancient writers--which, nevertheless, were ungodly done, and a certain token that such are not sincere lovers of good learning." [in other words, not sound bibliomaniacs.] see the appendix to hearne's edition of _joh. confrat. monach. de reb. glaston._ dee's "supplication" met with no attention from the bigotted sovereign to whom it was addressed. a project for a similar establishment in queen elizabeth's reign, when a society of antiquaries was first established in this kingdom, may be seen in hearne's _collection of curious discourses of antiquaries_; vol. ii., p. ,--when this library was "to be entitled the library of queen elizabeth, and the same to be well furnished with divers ancient books, and rare monuments of antiquity," &c., edit. .] [footnote : in mr. gutch's _collectanea curiosa_, vol. ii., p. , we have a "letter from queen elizabeth's high commissioners, concerning the superstitious books belonging to all soul's college:" the "schedule" or list returned was as follows: three mass books, old and new, and portmisses item, grailes, antiphoners of parchment and bound ---- processionals old and new ---- symnalls ---- an old manual of paper ---- an invitatorie book ---- psalters--and one covered with a skin ---- _a great pricksong book of parchment_ ---- one other pricksong book of vellum covered with a hart's skyn ---- other of paper bound in parchment ---- the founder's mass-book in parchment bound in board ---- in mr. mill his hand an antiphoner and a legend ---- a portmisse in his hand two volumes, a manual, a mass-book, and a processional.] [footnote f: the two following pages are appropriated to copies of the frontispiece (of the edit. of ), and a page of the work, from a copy in the possession of the printer of this edition of the _bibliomania_. [illustration: =elizabeth regina.= paralipom . =domine deus israel, non est similis tui deus in coelo & in terra, qui pacta custodis & misericordiam cum seruis tuis, qui ambulant coram te in toto corde suo.=] [illustration: a prayer for charitie, or loue towards our neighbours. =lord, inlighten and instruct our mindes, that we may esteeme euerie thing as it is worth, & yet not make the lesse reckoning of thee, sith nothing can be made better then thou. and secondly let us make account of man, then whome, there is nothing more excellent among the things of this world. make vs to loue him next thee, either as likest our selues, or as thy childe, and therefore our brother, or as one ordayned to bee a member of one selfe same countrie with vs.= =and cause vs also euen heere, to resemble the heauenly kingdome through mutual loue, where all hatred is quite banished, and all is full of loue, and consequently full of joy and gladnes.= amen. =giue a sweete smell as incense, &c.= =eccles. .= =matthew xxvi. - .=]] loren. you are full of book anecdote of elizabeth: but do you forget her schoolmaster, roger ascham? lysand. the master ought certainly to have been mentioned before his pupil. old roger is one of my most favourite authors; and i wish english scholars in general not only to read his works frequently, but to imitate the terseness and perspicuity of his style. there is a great deal of information in his treatises, respecting the manners and customs of his times; and as dr. johnson has well remarked, "his philological learning would have gained him honour in any country."[ ] that he was an ardent bibliomaniac, his letters when upon the continent, are a sufficient demonstration. [footnote : roger ascham is now, i should hope, pretty firmly established among us as one of the very best classical writers in our language. nearly three centuries are surely sufficient to consecrate his literary celebrity. he is an author of a peculiar and truly original cast. there is hardly a dull page or a dull passage in his lucubrations. he may be thought, however, to have dealt rather harshly with our old romance writers; nor do i imagine that the original edition of his _schoolmaster_ ( ), would be placed by a _morte d'arthur_ collector alongside of his thin black-letter quarto romances. ascham's invectives against the italian school, and his hard-hearted strictures upon the innocent ebullitions of petrarch and boccaccio, have been noticed, with due judgment and spirit, by mr. burnet, in his pleasing analysis of our philosopher's works. see _specimens of english prose writers_; vol. ii., p. . our tutor's notions of academical education, and his courteous treatment of his royal and noble scholars, will be discoursed of anon; meantime, while we cursorily, but strongly, applaud dr. johnson's almost unqualified commendation of this able writer; and while the reader may be slightly informed of the elegance and interest of his epistles; let the bibliomaniac hasten to secure bennet's edition of ascham's works (which incorparates [transcriber's note: incorporates] the notes of upton upon the schoolmaster, with the life of, and remarks upon ascham, by dr. johnson), published in a handsome quarto volume [ ]. this edition, though rather common and cheap, should be carefully reprinted in an octavo volume; to harmonize with the greater number of our best writers published in the same form. but it is time to mention something of the author connected with the subject of this work. what relates to the bibliomania, i here select from similar specimens in his english letters, written when he was abroad: "oct. . at afternoon i went about the town [of bruxelles]. i went to the frier carmelites house, and heard their even song: after, i desired to see the library. a frier was sent to me, and led me into it. there was not one good book but _lyra_. the friar was learned, spoke latin readily, entered into greek, having a very good wit, and a greater desire to learning. he was gentle and honest," &c. pp. - . "oct. . to spira: a good city. here i first saw _sturmius de periodis_. i also found here _ajax_, _electra_, and _antigone_ of _sophocles_, excellently, by my good judgment, translated into verse, and fair printed this summer by gryphius. your stationers do ill, that at least do not provide you the register of all books, especially of old authors," &c., p. . again: "hieronimus wolfius, that translated demosthenes and isocrates, is in this town. i am well acquainted with him, and have brought him twice to my lord's to dinner. he looks very simple. he telleth me that one borrheus, that hath written well upon aristot. priorum, &c., even now is printing goodly commentaries upon aristotle's rhetoric. but sturmius will obscure them all." p. . these extracts are taken from bennet's edition. who shall hence doubt of the propriety of classing ascham among the most renowned bibliomaniacs of the age?] from the tutor of elizabeth let us go to her prime minister, cecil.[ ] we have already seen how successfully this great man interposed in matters of religion; it remains to notice his zealous activity in the cause of learning. and of this latter who can possibly entertain a doubt? who that has seen how frequently his name is affixed to dedications, can disbelieve that cecil was a lover of books? indeed i question whether it is inserted more frequently in a diplomatic document or printed volume. to possess all the presentation copies of this illustrious minister would be to possess an ample and beautiful library of the literature of the sixteenth century. [footnote : the reader, it is presumed, will not form his opinion of the bibliomaniacal taste of this great man, from the distorted and shameful delineation of his character, which, as a matter of curiosity only, is inserted at p. , ante. he will, on the contrary, look upon cecil as a lover of books, not for the sake of the numerous panegyrical dedications to himself, which he must have so satisfactorily perused, but for the sake of the good to be derived from useful and ingenious works. with one hand, this great man may be said to have wielded the courageous spirit, and political virtue, of his country--and with the other, to have directed the operations of science and literature. without reading the interesting and well-written life of cecil, in mr. macdiarmid's _lives of british statesmen_ (a work which cannot be too often recommended, or too highly praised), there is evidence sufficient of this statesman's bibliomaniacal passion and taste, in the fine old library which is yet preserved at burleigh in its legitimate form--and which, to the collector of such precious volumes, must have presented a treat as exquisite as are the fresh blown roses of june to him who regales himself in the flowery fragrance of his garden--the production of his own manual labour! indeed strypes tells us that cecil's "library was a very choice one:" his care being "in the preservation, rather than in the private possession of (literary) antiquities." among other curiosities in it, there was a grand, and a sort of presentation, copy of archbishop parker's latin work of the _antiquity of the british church_; "bound costly, and laid in colours the arms of the church of canterbury, empaled with the archbishop's own paternal coat." read strype's tempting description; _life of parker_; pp. , . well might grafton thus address cecil at the close of his epistolary dedication of his _chronicles_: "and now having ended this work, and seeking to whom i might, for testification of my special good-will, present it, or for patronage and defence dedicate it, and principally, for all judgment and correction to submit it--among many, i have chosen your mastership, moved thereto by experience of your courteous judgment towards those that travail to any honest purpose, rather helping and comforting their weakness, than condemning their simple, but yet well meaning, endeavours. by which, your accustomed good acceptation of others, i am the rather boldened to beseech your mastership to receive this my work and me, in such manner as you do those in whom (howsoever there be want of power) there wanteth no point of goodwill and serviceable affection." edit. , to. if a chronicler could talk thus, a poet (who, notwithstanding the title of his poem, does not, i fear, rank among pope's bards, that "sail aloft among _the swans of thames_,") may be permitted thus to introduce cecil's name and mansion: now see these swannes the new and worthie seate of famous cicill, treasorer of the land, whose wisedome, counsell skill of princes state the world admires, then swannes may do the same: the house itselfe doth shewe the owner's wit, and may for bewtie, state, and every thing, compared be with most within the land, vallan's _tale of two swannes_, , to., reprinted in _leland's itinerary_; vol. v. p. xiii, edit. .] but the book-loving propensities of elizabeth's minister were greatly eclipsed by those of her favourite archbishop, parker: clarum et venerabile nomen gentibus, et multum nostræ quod proderat urbi. for my part, lorenzo, i know of no character, either of this or of any subsequent period, which is more entitled to the esteem and veneration of englishmen. pious, diffident, frank, charitable, learned, and munificent, parker was the great episcopal star of his age, which shone with undiminished lustre to the last moment of its appearance. in that warm and irritable period, when the protestant religion was assailed in proportion to its excellence, and when writers mistook abuse for argument, it is delightful to think upon the mild and temperate course which this discreet metropolitan pursued! even with such arrant bibliomaniacs as yourselves, parker's reputation must stand as high as that attached to any name, when i inform you that of his celebrated work upon the "_antiquity of the british church_"[ ] are only twenty copies supposed to have been printed. he had a private press, which was worked with types cast at his own expense; and a more determined book-fancier, and treasurer of ancient lore, did not at that time exist in great britain. [footnote : this is not the place to enter minutely into a bibliographical account of the above celebrated work; such account being with more propriety reserved for the history of our _typographical antiquities_. yet a word or two may be here said upon it, in order that the bibliomaniac may not be wholly disappointed; and especially as ames and herbert have been squeamishly reserved in their comunications [transcriber's note: communications] respecting the same. the above volume is, without doubt, one of the scarcest books in existence. it has been intimated by dr. drake, in the preface of his magnificent reprint of it, , fol., that only copies were struck off: but, according to stype [transcriber's note: strype], parker tells cecil, in an emblazoned copy presented to him by the latter, that he had not given the book to _four_ men in the whole realm: and peradventure, added he, "it shall never come to sight abroad, though some men, smelling of the printing of it, were very desirous cravers of the same." _life of parker_, p. . this certainly does not prove any thing respecting the number of copies printed; but it is probable that dr. drake's supposition is not far short of the truth. one thing is remarkable: of all the copies known, no two are found to accord with each other. the archbishop seems to have altered and corrected the sheets as they each came from the press. the omission of the archbishop's own life in this volume, as it contained the biography of archbishops, exclusively of himself, was endeavoured to be supplied by the publication of a sharp satirical tract, entitled, "_the life off the archbishop of canterbury, presenttye sittinge englished, and to be added to the lately sett forth in latin_," &c., mo., . after this title page there is another. "_histriola, a little storye of the acts and life of mathew, now archbishoppe of canterb._" this latter comprehends leaves, and was written either by the archbishop himself, or by his chaplain joscelyne; but whether it be at all like a distinct printed folio tract, of twelve leaves and a half, which was kept carefully undispersed in the archbishop's own possession, 'till his death--being also a biography of parker--i am not able to ascertain. the following extracts from it (as it is a scarce little volume) may be acceptable, _archbishop parker's early studies and popular preaching._ "but now, he being very well and perfectly instructed in the liberal sciences, he applied all his mind to the study of divinity, and to the reading of the volumes of the ecclesiastical fathers; and that so earnestly that, in short space of time, he bestowed his labour not unprofitably in this behalf; for, after the space of four or five years, he, issuing from his secret and solitary study into open practice in the commonwealth, preached every where unto the people with great commendation; and that in the most famous cities and places of this realm, by the authority of king henry viii., by whose letters patent this was granted unto him, together with the license of the archbishop of canterbury. in execution of this function of preaching, he gained this commodity; that the fame of him came unto the ears of king henry," &c. sign. a. iij. recto. _his attention to literature and printing, &c._ "----he was very careful, and not without some charges, to seek the monuments of former times; to know the religion of the ancient fathers, and those especially which were of the english church. therefore in seeking up the chronicles of the britons and english saxons, which lay hidden every where contemned and buried in forgetfulness, and through the ignorance of the languages not well understanded, his own especially, and his mens, diligence wanted not. and to the end that these antiquities might last long, and be carefully kept, he caused them, being brought into one place, _to be well bound and trimly covered_. and yet, not so contented, he endeavoured to set out in print certain of those ancient monuments, whereof he knew very few examples to be extant; and which he thought would be most profitable for the posterity, to instruct them in the faith and religion of the elders. [orig. 'to instructe them in the faythe and religion off the elders.] hereupon, he caused the perpetual histories of the english affairs, by _mathæus parisiensis_, once a monk of saint alban's, and _mathæus florilegus_, a monk of saint peter in westminster, written in latin, to be printed; after he had diligently conferred them with the examples which he could get in any place; to the end that, as sincerely as might be, as the authors first left them, he might deliver them into other men's hands. lastly, that he might not be unmindful of those monuments which, both in antiquity, worthiness, and authority, excelled all other, or rather wherewith none are to be compared (i mean the holy scriptures) here he thought to do great good if, by his number, he increased the _holy bibles_, which shortly would be wanting to many churches, if this discommodity were not provided for in time. therefore it seemed good unto him, first, with his learned servants, to examine thoroughly the english translation; wherein he partly used the help of his brethren bishops, and other doctors; with whom he dealt so diligently in this matter that they disdained not to be partners and fellows with him of his labor. and now all their work is set out in very fair forms and letters of print," &c. sign. c. rect. & rev. _his work de antiquitate ecclesiæ britannicæ._ "----much more praiseworthy is she (the 'assyrian queen of babylon,') than he, whosoever it was, that of late hath set forth, to the hurt of christian men, certain rhapsodies and shreds of the old forworn stories, almost forgotten--had he not (parker) now lately awakened them out of a dead sleep, and newly sewed them together in one book printed; whose glorious life promiseth not mountains of gold, as that silly heathen woman's (the aforesaid queen) tomb, but beareth christ in the brow, and is honested with this title in the front, 'de antiquitate,' &c." sign. c. iiij. rev. the satirical part, beginning with "to the christian reader," follows the biography from which these extracts have been taken. it remains to observe, that our archbishop was a bibliomaniac of the very first order; and smitten with every thing attached to a book, to a degree beyond any thing exhibited by his contemporaries. parker did not scruple to tell cecil that he kept in his house "drawers of pictures, wood-cutters, painters, limners, writers, and book-binders,"--"one of these was lylye, an excellent writer, that could counterfeit any antique writing. him the archbishop customarily used to make old books compleat,"--&c. _strype's life of parker_; pp. , . such was his ardour for book-collecting that he had agents in almost all places, abroad and at home, for the purpose of securing everything that was curious, precious, and rare: and one of these, of the name of batman (i suppose the commentator upon bartholomæus) "in the space of no more than four years, procured for our archbishop to the number of books." _id._ p. . the riches of his book bequests to cambridge are sufficiently described by strype; pp. , , , , &c. the domestic habits and personal appearance of parker are described by his biographer (p. ) as being simple and grave. notwithstanding his aversion to wearing silk, to plays and jests, and hawks and hounds (even when he was a young man), i take it for granted he could have no inward dislike to the beautiful and appropriate ceremony which marked his consecration, and which is thus narrated by the lively pen of fuller: "the east part of the chapel of lambeth was hung with tapestry, the floor spread with red cloth, chairs and cushions are conveniently placed for the purpose: morning prayers being solemnly read by andrew peerson, the archbishop's chaplain, bishop scory went up into the pulpit, and took for his text, _the elders which are among you i exhort, who also am an elder; and a witness of the sufferings of christ, &c._ sermon ended, and the sacrament administered, they proceed to the consecration. the archbishop had his rochet on, with hereford; and the suffragan of bedford, chichester, wore a silk cope; and coverdale a plain cloth gown down to his ancles. all things are done conformable to the book of ordination: litany sung; the queen's patent for parker's consecration audibly read by dr. vale: he is presented: the oath of supremacy tendered to him; taken by him; hands reverently imposed on him; and all with prayers begun, continued, concluded. in a word, though here was no theatrical pomp to made it a popish pageant; though no sandals, gloves, ring, staff, oil, pall, &c., were used upon him--yet there was ceremony enough to clothe his consecration with decency, though not to clog it with superstition." _church history_, b. ix., p. . but the virtues of the primate, however mild and unostentatious, were looked upon with an envious eye by the maligant observer of human nature; and the spontaneous homage which he received from some of the first noblemen in the realm was thus lampooned in the satirical composition just before noticed: _homage and tribute paid to archbishop parker._ "the next is, what great tributes every made bishop paid him. how they entertained his whole household or court, for the time, with sumptuous feasting. how dearly they redeemed their own cloaths, and carpets, at his chaplain's hands. what fees were bestowed on his crucifer, marshall, and other servants. all which plentiful bounty, or rather, he might have said, largess, is shrunk up, he saith, to a small sum of ten pounds, somewhat beside, but very small, bestowed, he might have said cast away, upon the archbishop's family, &c.--the same earl (of gloucester) must be his steward and chief cupbearer, the day of his inthronization: this is not to be called gracious lords, as the lords of the earth, but this is to be beyond all grace; and to be served of these gracious lords, and to be their lord paramount. in this roll of his noble tenants, the next are the lord strangways, the earl of oxford, the lord dacy, all which (saith he) owe service to that archbishop. then descendeth he to the gifts that every his suffragan provincial bishop bestoweth on him, in their life, and at their death: some their palfrey with saddle and furniture; some their rings, and some their seals. among the rest, the bishop of rochester, who is there called specially his chaplain, giveth him a brace of dogs. these be trim things for prelates to give or receive; especially of them to make such account as to print them among such special prerogatives." sign. d. iiij. v. yet even to this libel was affixed the following epitaph upon parker; which shews that truth "is great, and will prevail." matthew parker liued sober and wise learned by studie, and continuall practise, louinge, true, off life uncontrold the courte did foster him, both young and old. orderly he delt, the ryght he did defend, he lyved unto god, to god he mad his ende. let us take leave of this amiable, erudite, and truly exemplary, character, by contemplating his features--according to the ensuing cut of tyson's fac-simile of the rare ancient print, prefixed to some of the copies of the _antiquity of the british church_; premising that the supposed original painting of parker, at benet college, cambridge, is nothing more than one of the aforesaid ancient prints, delicately coloured: as a tasteful antiquary, of the first authority, discovered, and mentioned to me. [illustration]] phil. you have called the reign of henry the seventh the augustan-book-age; but, surely, this distinction is rather due to the æra of queen elizabeth? lysand. both periods merit the appellation. in henry's time, the invention of printing was of early growth; but the avidity of readers considerable. the presses of rome, venice, and paris, sent forth their costly productions; and a new light, by such means, was poured upon the darkened mind. our own presses began to contribute to the diffusion of this light; and, compared with the preceding part of the fifteenth century, the reign of henry vii. was highly distinguished for its bibliomaniacal celebrity. undoubtedly, the æra of queen elizabeth was the golden age of bibliomaniacism. do not let me forget, in my rambling method of treating of books and book-men, the name and celebrity of the renowned dr. john dee. let us fancy we see him in his conjuring cap and robes--surrounded with astrological, mathematical, and geographical instruments--with a profusion of chaldee characters inscribed upon vellum rolls--and with his celebrated _glass_ suspended by magical wires. let us then follow him into his study at midnight, and view him rummaging his books; contemplating the heavens; making calculations; holding converse with invisible spirits; writing down their responses: anon, looking into his correspondence with _count a lasco_ and the emperors adolphus and maximilian; and pronouncing himself, with the most heartfelt complacency, the greatest genius of his age![ ] in the midst of these self-complacent reveries, let us imagine we see his wife and little ones intruding; beseeching him to burn his books and instruments; and reminding him that there was neither a silver spoon, nor a loaf of bread, in the cupboard. alas, poor dee!--thou wert the dupe of the people and of the court: and, although meric casaubon has enshrined thy conjurations in a pompous folio volume, thy name, i fear, will only live in the memory of bibliomaniacs! [footnote : those who are fond of copious biographical details of astrologers and conjurers will read, with no small pleasure and avidity, the long gossipping account of dee, which hearne has subjoined to his edition of _john confrat. monach. de rebus gestis glaston._, vol. ii.; where twelve chapters are devoted to the subject of our philosopher's travels and hardships. meric casaubon--who put forth a pompous folio volume of "_a true and faithful relation of what passed for many yeers between dr. john dee and some spirits_:" --gravely assures us, in an elaborate, learned, and rather amusing preface, that the volume contains what "he thinks is not to be paralleled in that kind by any book that hath been set out in any age to read:" sign a. this is true enough; for such a farago of incongruous, risible, and horrible events, are no where else recorded. "none but itself can be its parallel." casaubon wrote a professed dissertation ( , vo.) upon witches, and nothing seemed to be too unpalatable for his credulity to swallow. a compressed and rather interesting account of dee, who was really the weakest as well as the ablest scholar and philosopher of his day, will be found in ashmole's _theatrum chemicum_, p. . from the substance of these authorities, the reader is presented with the following sketch. the first chapter in hearne's publication, which treats of the "entrance and ground plot of his first studies," informs us that he had received his latin education in london and chelmsford: that he was born in july, , and at years of age was entered at the university of cambridge, . in the three following years, "so vehemently was he bent to study that, for those years, he did inviolably keep this order; only to sleep hours every night; to allow to meat and drink (and some refreshing after) hours every day; and of the other hours, all (excepting the time of going to, and being at, divine service) was spent in his studies and learning." in may, , after having taken his bachelor's decree, he went abroad. "and after some months spent about the low countries, he returned home, and brought with him the first astronomer's staff in brass, that was made of gemma frisius devising; the two great globes of gerardus mercator's making, and the astronomer's ring of brass, as gemma frisius had newly framed it." dee's head now began to run wild upon astronomy, or rather astrology; and the tremendous assistance of the "occult art" was called in to give effect to the lectures which he read upon it at home and abroad. "he did set forth (and it was seen of the university) a greek comedy of aristophanes, named, in greek, [greek: eirênê], in latin, _pax_; with the performance of the _scarabæus_ his flying up to jupiter's palace, with a man and his basket of victuals on his back: whereat was great wondering and many vain reports spread abroad of the means how that was effected. in that college (trinity, for he had now left st. john's), by his advice and endeavours, was their christmas magistrate first named and confirmed an emperor." the first emperor of this sort, (whose _name_, it must be confessed, is rather unpopular in a university) he takes care to inform us, "was one mr. thomas _dun_, a very goodly man of person, stature, and complexion, and well learned also." dee afterwards ranks these things among "his boyish attempts and exploits scholastical." in he was made master of arts, and in the same year "went over beyond the seas again, and never after that was any more student in cambridge." abroad, almost every emperor and nobleman of distinction, according to his own account, came to see and hear him. "for recreation, he looked into the method of the civil law, and profitted therein so much that, in _antinomiis_, imagined to be in the law, he had good hap to find out (well allowed of) their agreements; and also to enter into a plain and due understanding of diverse civil laws, accounted very intricate and dark." at paris, when he gave lectures upon euclid's elements, "a thing never done publicly in any university in christendom, his auditory in rhemes college was so great, and the most part elder than himself, that the mathematical schools could not hold them; for many were fain, without the schools, at the windows, to be _auditores et spectatores_, as they could best help themselves thereto. and by the first four principal definitions representing to their eyes (which by imagination only are exactly to be conceived) a greater wonder arose among the beholders than of his _aristophanes scarabæus_ mounting up to the top of trinity hall, _ut supra_." notwithstanding the tempting offers to cause him to be domiciled in france and germany, our astrologer, like a true patriot, declined them all. the french king offered an annual stipend of french crowns; a monsieur babeu, monsieur de rohan, and monsieur de monluc, offered still greater sums, but were all refused. in germany he was tempted with the yearly salary of dollars; "and lastly, by a messenger from the russie or muscovite emperor, purposely sent with a very rich present unto him at trebona castle, and with provision for the whole journey (being above miles from the castle where he lay) of his coming to his court at moscow, with his wife, children, and whole family, there to enjoy at his imperial hands lib. sterling yearly stipend; and of his protector yearly a thousand rubles; with his diet also to be allowed him free out of the emperor's own kitchen: and to be in dignity with authority amongst the highest sort of the nobility there, and of his privy counsellors."--but all this was heroically declined by our patriotic philosopher. lord pembroke and lord leicester introduced dee to the notice of q. elizabeth, before her coronation. at which time her majesty used these words--"_where my brother hath given him a crown, i will give him a noble!_" before the accession of elizabeth, he was imprisoned on being accused of destroying queen mary by enchantment. "the queen elizabeth herself became a prisoner in the same place (hampton court) shortly afterwards; and dee had for bedfellow one barthelet green, who was afterwards burnt." dee himself was examined by bishop bonner. on the deanery of gloucester becoming void in , dee was nominated to fill it: but the same deanery was afterwards bestowed on mr. man, who was sent into spain in her majesty's service. "and now this lent, , when it became void again (says dee), i made a motion for it, but i came too late; for one that might spend or lib. a year already, had more need of it than i belike; or else this former gift was but words only to me, and the fruit ever due to others, that can espy and catch better than i for these years could do." mistris blanche à parry came to his house with an offer from the queen of "any ecclesiastical dignity within her kingdom, being then, or shortly becoming, void and vacant"--but "dee's most humble and thankful answer to her majesty, by the same messenger, was that _cura animarum annexa_ did terrifie him to deal with." he was next promised to "have of her majesty's gift other ecclesiastical livings and revenues (without care of souls annexed) as in her majesty's books were rated at two hundred pounds yearly revenue; of which her majesty's gift he never as yet had any one penny." in oct. , he had a consultation with mr. doctor bayly, her majesty's physician, "about her majestie's grievous pangs and pains by reason of the toothake and rheum," &c. "he set down in writing, with hydrographical and geographical description, what he then had to say or shew, as concerning her majesty's title royal to any foreign countries. whereof two parchment great rolls full written, of about xii white vellum skins, were good witnesses upon the table before the commissioners." dee had refused an hundred pounds for these calligraphical labours. a list of his printed and unprinted works: the former (ending with the year ), the latter (ending with the year ), in number. anno , julii ultimo, the earl of leicester and lord laskey invited themselves to dine with dee in a day or two; but our astrologer "confessed sincerely that he was not able to prepare them a convenient dinner, unless he should presently sell some of his plate or some of his pewter for it. whereupon," continues dee, "her majesty sent unto me very royally within one hour after forty angels of gold, from sion; whither her majesty was now come by water from greenwich." a little before christmas, , dee mentions a promise of another royal donation of _l._--"which intent and promise, some once or twice after, as he came in her majesty's sight, she repeated unto him; and thereupon sent unto him _fifty pounds_ to keep his christmas with that year--but what, says he, is become of the other fifty, truly i cannot tell! if her majesty can, it is sufficient; '_satis, citò, modò, satis bene_, must i say.'" in , his patroness, the countess of warwick, made a powerful diversion at court to secure for him the mastership of st. cross, then filled by dr. bennet, who was to be made a bishop.--the queen qualified her promise of dee's having it with a nota bene, _if he should be fit for it_. in , the archbishop of canterbury openly "affirmed that the mastership of st. crosse was a living most fit for him; and the lord treasurer, at hampton court, lately to himself declared, and with his hand very earnestly smitten on his breast used these very words to him--'_by my faith_, if her majestie be moved in it by any other for you, i will do what i can with her majestie to pleasure you therein, mr. dee.'" but it is time to gratify the bibliomaniac with something more to his palate. here followeth, therefore, as drawn up by our philosopher himself, an account of dee's library: " _volumes_--printed and unprinted--bound and unbound--valued at _lib._ greek, french, and high dutch, volumes of mss., alone worth _lib._ years in getting these books together." appertaining thereto, _sundry rare and exquisitely made mathematical instruments._ _a radius astronomicus_, ten feet long. _a magnet stone, or loadstone_; of great virtue--"which was sold out of the library for _v shill._ and for it afterwards (yea piece-meal divided) was more than xx _lib._ given in money and value." "_a great case or frame of boxes_, wherein some hundreds of very rare evidences of divers irelandish territories, provinces, and lands, were laid up. which territories, provinces, and lands were therein notified to have been in the hands of some of the ancient irish princes. then, their submissions and tributes agreed upon, with seals appendant to the little writings thereof in parchment: and after by some of those evidences did it appear how some of those lands came to the lascies, the mortuomars, the burghs, the clares," &c. "_a box of evidences_ antient of some welch princes and noblemen--the like of norman donation--their peculiar titles noted on the forepart with chalk only, which on the poor boxes remaineth." this box, with another, containing similar deeds, were embezzled. "one great bladder with about pound weight, of a very sweetish thing, like a brownish gum in it, artificially prepared by thirty times purifying of it, hath more than i could well afford him for crownes; as may be proved by witnesses yet living." to these he adds his _three laboratories_, "serving for pyrotechnia"--which he got together after years' labour. "all which furniture and provision, and many things already prepared, is unduly made away from me by sundry meanes, and a few spoiled or broken vessels remain, hardly worth shillings." but one more feature in poor dee's character--and that is his unparalleled serenity and good nature under the most griping misfortunes--remains to be described: and then we may take farewell of him, with aching hearts. in the th chapter, speaking of the wretched poverty of himself and family--("having not one penny of certain fee, revenue, stipend, or pension, either left him or restored unto him,")--dee says that "he has been constrained now and then to send parcels of his little furniture of plate to pawn upon usury; and that he did so oft, till no more could be sent. after the same manner went his wives' jewels of gold, rings, bracelets, chains, and other their rarities, under the thraldom of the usurer's gripes: 'till _non plus_ was written upon the boxes at home." in the th chapter, he anticipates the dreadful lot of being brought "to the stepping out of doors (his house being sold). he, and his, with bottles and wallets furnished, to become wanderers as homish vagabonds; or, as banished men, to forsake the kingdom!" again: "with bloody tears of heart, he, and his wife, their seven children, and their servant (seventeen of them in all), did that day make their petition unto their honours," &c. can human misery be sharper than this--and to be the lot of a philosopher and bibliomaniac?! but "veniet felicius Ævum."] of a wholly different cast of character and of reading was the renowned captain cox of coventry. how many of dee's magical books he had exchanged for the pleasanter magic of _old ballads_ and _romances_, i will not take upon me to say; but that this said bibliomaniacal captain had a library, which, even from master laneham's imperfect description of it,[ ] i should have preferred to the four thousand volumes of dr. john dee, is most nuquestionable [transcriber's note: unquestionable]. [footnote : let us be introduced to the sprightly figure and expression of character of this renowned coventry captain, before we speak particularly of his library. "captain cox (says the above-mentioned master laneham) came marching on valiantly before, clean trust and gartered above the knee, all fresh in a velvet cap (master golding a lent it him), flourishing with his _ton_ sword; and another fence master with him:" p. . a little before, he is thus described as connected with his library: "and first, captain cox; an odd man, i promise you: by profession a mason, and that right skilful: very cunning in fens (fencing); and hardy as gawin; for his _ton_ sword hangs at his table's end. great oversight hath he in matters of story: for as for _king arthur's_ book, _huon of bourdeaux_, the _four sons of aymon_, _bevys of hampton_, _the squyre of low degree_, _the knight of curtsy_, and the _lady fagnel_, _frederick of gene_, _syr eglamour_, _syr tryamour_, _syr lamurell_, _syr isenbras_, _syr gawyn_, _olyver of the castl_, _lucres and eurialus_, _virgil's life_, _the castl of ladies_, _the widow edyth_, _the king and the tanner_, _frier rous_, _howleglas_, _gargantua_, _robin hood_, _adam bel_, _clim on the clough_, and _william of cloudsley_, _the churl and the burd_, _the seaven wise masters_, _the wife lapt in a morel's skin_, _the sakful of nuez_, _the sergeaunt that became a fryar_, _skogan_, _collyn cloout_, _the fryar and the boy_, _elynor rumming_, and _the nutbrooun maid_, with many more than i rehearse here. i believe he has them all at his finger's ends," p. . the preceding is a list of the worthy captain's romances; some of which, at least in their original shape, were unknown to ritson: what would be the amount of their present produce under the hammer of those renowned black-letter-book auctioneers in king-street, covent garden--? speak we, in the next place, of the said military bibliomaniac's collection of books in "philosophy moral and natural." "beside _poetry_ and _astronomy_, and other hid sciences, as i may guess by the omberty of his books: whereof part are, as i remember, _the shepherd's kalendar_, _the ship of fools_, _daniel's dreams_, _the book of fortune_, _stans_, _puer ad mensam_, _the bye way to the spitl-house_, _julian of brainford's testament_, _the castle of love_, _the booget of demaunds_, _the hundred mery talez_, _the book of riddels_, _the seaven sorows of wemen_, _the proud wives' pater-noster_, _the chapman of a penniworth of wit_: beside his auncient plays; _youth and charitee_, _hikskorner_, _nugize_, _impacient poverty_, and herewith doctor _boord's breviary of health_. what should i rehearse here, what a bunch of ballads and songs, all ancient?!--here they come, gentle reader; lift up thine eyen and marvel while thou dost peruse the same: _broom broom on hill_, _so wo iz me begon_, _trolly lo over a whinny meg_, _hey ding a ding_, _bony lass upon a green_, _my bony on gave me a bek_, _by a bank az i lay_; and _two more_ he hath fair wrapt up in parchment, and bound with a whipcord!" it is no wonder that ritson, in the historical essay prefixed to his collection of _scottish songs_, should speak of some of these ballads with a zest as if he would have sacrificed half his library to untie the said "whipcord" packet. and equally joyous, i ween, would my friend mr. r.h. evans, of pall-mall, have been--during his editorial labours in publishing a new edition of his father's collection of ballads--(an edition, by the bye, which gives us more of the genuine spirit of the coxean collection than any with which i am acquainted)--equally joyous would mr. evans have been to have had the inspection of some of these 'bonny' songs. the late duke of roxburgh, of never-dying bibliomaniacal celebrity, would have parted with half the insignia of his order of the garter to have obtained _clean original copies_ of these fascinating effusions! but let us return, and take farewell of captain cox, by noticing only the remaining department of his library, as described by laneham. "as for almanacs of antiquity (a point for ephemerides) i ween he can shew from _jasper laet of antwerp_, unto _nostradam of frauns_, and thence unto our _john securiz of salisbury_. to stay ye no longer herein (concludes laneham) i dare say he hath as fair a library of these sciences, and as many goodly monuments both in prose and poetry, and at afternoon can talk as much without book, as any innholder betwixt brentford and bagshot, what degree soever he be." _a letter wherein part of the entertainment untoo the queenz majesty at killingwoorth castl in warwick-sheer, in this soomerz progrest, , is signefied_: warwick, , vo. o rare captain cox!] we now approach two characters of a more dignified cast; and who, in every respect, must be denominated the greatest bibliomaniacs of the age: i mean sir robert cotton and sir thomas bodley. we will touch upon them separately. the numerous relics which are yet preserved of the _cottonian collection_, may serve to convey a pretty strong idea of its splendour and perfection in its original shape. cotton had all the sagacity and judgment of lord coke, with a more beautifully polished mind, and a more benevolent heart. as to books, and book men, he was the mecænas[ ] of his day. his thirst for knowledge could never be satiated; and the cultivation of the mind upon the foundation of a good heart, he considered to be the highest distinction, and the most permanent delight, of human beings. wealth, pomp, parade, and titles, were dissipated, in the pure atmosphere of his mind before the invigorating sun of science and learning. he knew that the tomb which recorded the _worth_ of the deceased had more honest tears shed upon it than the pompous mausoleum which spoke only of his pedigree and possessions. accordingly, although he had excellent blood flowing in his veins, cotton sought connection with the good rather than with the great; and where he found a cultivated understanding, and an honest heart, there he carried with him his _lares_, and made another's abode his own. [footnote : there are few eminent characters of whom so many, and such ably-executed, memoirs are extant as of sir robert cotton, knt. in the present place we have nothing to do with his academical studies, his philosophical, or legislative, or diplomatic, labours: literature and _book madness_ are our only subjects of discussion. yet those who may wish for more general, and possibly more interesting, details, may examine the authorities referred to by mr. planta in his very excellent _catalogue of the mss. in the cottonian library_, , folio. sir robert cotton was educated at trinity-college, cambridge. the number of curious volumes, whether in the roman, gothic, or italic type, which he in all probability collected during his residence at the university, has not yet been ascertained; but we know that, when he made his antiquarian tour with the famous camden, ("par nobile fratrum!") in his th year, cotton must have greatly augmented his literary treasures, and returned to the metropolis with a sharpened appetite, to devour every thing in the shape of a book. respected by three sovereigns, elizabeth, james, and charles, and admired by all the literati in europe, sir robert saw himself in as eminent a situation as wealth, talents, taste, and integrity can place an individual. his collection of books increased rapidly; but ms. records, deeds, and charters, were the chief objects of his pursuit. his mansion was noble, his library extensive, and his own manners such as conciliated the esteem of almost every one who approached him. dr. smith has well described our illustrious bibliomaniac, at this golden period of his life: "ad cottoni ædes, tanquam ad communem reconditioris doctrinæ apothecam, sive ad novam academiam, quotquot animo paulo erectiori musis et gratiis litaverint, sese recepere, nullam a viro humanissimo repulsam passuri: quippe idem literas bonas promovendi studium erat omni auctoramento longe potentius. nec ista obvia morum facilitas, qua omnes bonos eruditionisque candidatos complexus est, quicquam reverentiæ qua vicissim ille colebatur, detraxerat: potius, omnium, quos familiari sermone, repititisque colloquiis dignari placuit, in se amores et admirationem hac insigni naturæ benignitate excitavit." vit. rob. cottoni, p. xxiv., prefixed to the _catalogus librorum manuscriptorum bibl. cott._, , folio. sir robert was, however, doomed to have the evening of his life clouded by one of those crooked and disastrous events, of which it is now impossible to trace the correct cause, or affix the degree of ignominy attached to it, on the head of its proper author. human nature has few blacker instances of turpitude on record than that to which our knight fell a victim. in the year , some wretch communicated to the spanish ambassador "the valuable state papers in his library, who caused them to be copied and translated into the spanish:" these papers were of too much importance to be made public; and james the st had the meanness to issue a commission "which excluded sir robert from his own library." the storm quickly blew over, and the sunshine of cotton's integrity diffused around its wonted brilliancy. but in the year , another mischievous wretch propagated a report that sir robert had been privy to a treasonable publication: because, forsooth, the original tract, from which this treasonable one had been taken, was, in the year , without the knowledge of the owner of the library, introduced into the cottonian collection. this wretch, under the abused title of librarian, had, "for pecuniary considerations," the baseness to suffer one or more copies of the pamphlet of (writtten [transcriber's note: written] at florence by dudley, duke of northumberland, under a less offensive title) to be taken, and in consequence printed. sir robert was therefore again singled out for royal vengeance: his library was put under sequestration; and the owner forbidden to enter it. it was in vain that his complete innocence was vindicated. to deprive such a man as cotton of the ocular and manual comforts of his library--to suppose that he could be happy in the most splendid drawing room in europe, without his books--is to suppose what our experience of virtuous bibliomaniacs will not permit us to accede to. in consequence, sir robert declared to his friends, "that they had broken his heart who had locked up his library from him:" which declaration he solemnly repeated to the privy council. in the year , this great and good man closed his eyes for ever upon mortal scenes; upon those whom he gladdened by his benevolence, and improved by his wisdom. such was the man, of whom gale has thus eloquently spoken:--"quisquis bona fide historiam nostram per omne ævum explicare sataget, nullum laudatum scriptorem à se desiderari exoptarique posse, quem cottonianus ille incomparabilis thesaurus promptissime non exhibebit: ea est, et semper fuit, nobilis domus ergo literatos indulgentia--hujus fores (ut illæ musaram, apud pindarum) omnibus patent. testes apello theologos, antiquarios, jurisconsultos, bibliopolas; qui quidem omnes, ex cottoniana bibliotheca, tanquam ex perenni, sed et communi fonte, sine impensis et molestiâ, abundè hauserunt." _rer. anglic. script. vet._, vol. i., præf., p. . the loss of such a character--the deprivation of such a patron--made the whole society of book-collectors tremble and turn pale. men began to look sharply into their libraries, and to cast a distrustful eye upon those who came to consult and to copy: for the spirit of cotton, like the ghost of hamlet's father, was seen to walk, before cock-crow, along the galleries and balconies of great collections, and to bid the owners of them "remember and beware"!--but to return. the library of this distinguished bibliomaniac continued under sequestration some time after his death, and was preserved entire, with difficulty, during the shock of the civil wars. in the year , it was removed to essex house, in essex-street, strand, where it continued till the year , when it was conveyed back to westminster, and deposited in little dean's yard. in october, , broke out that dreadful fire, which hearne (_benedict. abbat._, vol. i., præf. p. xvi.) so pathetically deplores; and in which the nation so generally sympathized--as it destroyed and mutilated many precious volumes of this collection. out of volumes, were destroyed, and damaged. in the year the library, to the honour of the age, and as the only atonement which could be made to the injured name of cotton, as well as to the effectual _laying_ of his perturbed spirit--was purchased by parliament, and transported within the quiet and congenial abode of the british museum: and here may it rest, unabused, for revolving ages! the collection now contains , articles. consult mr. planta's neatly written preface to the catalogue of the same; vide p. , , ante. and thus take we leave of the ever-memorable bibliomaniac, sir robert cotton, knt.] equally celebrated for literary zeal, and yet more for bibliomaniacal enthusiasm, was the famous sir thomas bodley; whose account of himself, in _prince's worthies of devon_, and particularly in one of _hearne's publications_,[ ] can never be read without transport by an affectionate son of our oxford _alma mater_. view this illustrious bibliomaniac, with his gentleman-like air, and expressive countenance, superintending, with the zeal of a custom-house officer, the shipping, or rather _barging_, of his books for the grand library which is now called by his own name! think upon his activity in writing to almost every distinguished character of the realm: soliciting, urging, arguing, entreating for their support towards his magnificent establishment; and, moreover, superintending the erection of the building, as well as examining the timbers, with the nicety of a master-carpenter!--think of this; and when you walk under the grave and appropriately-ornamented roof, which tells you that you are within the precincts of the bodleian library, pay obeisance to the portrait of the founder, and hold converse with his gentle spirit that dwells therein! [footnote : there are few subjects--to the bibliomaniac in general--and particularly to one, who, like the author of this work, numbers himself among the dutiful sons of the fair oxonian mother--that can afford a higher gratification than the history of the bodleian library, which, like virgil's description of fame, "soon grew from pigmy to gigantic size." the reader is therefore here informed, as a necessary preliminary piece of intelligence, that the present note will be more monstrous than any preceding one of a similar nature. let him, however, take courage, and only venture to dip his feet in the margin of the lake, and i make little doubt but that he will joyfully plunge in, and swim across it. of the parentage, birth, and education of bodley there seems to be no necessity for entering into the detail. the monument which he has erected to his memory is lofty enough for every eye to behold; and thereupon may be read the things most deserving of being known. how long the subject of his beloved library had occupied his attention it is perhaps of equal difficulty and unimportance to know; but his determination to carry this noble plan into effect is thus pleasingly communicated to us by his own pen: "when i had, i say, in this manner, represented to my thoughts, my peculiar estate, i resolved thereupon to possess my soul in peace all the residue of my days; to take my full farewell of state employments; to satisfy my mind with that mediocrity of worldly living that i have of my own, and so to retire me from the court; which was the epilogue and end of all my actions and endeavours, of any important note, till i came to the age of fifty-three years."--"examining exactly, for the rest of my life, what course i might take; and, having, as i thought, sought all the ways to the wood, i concluded, at the last, to set up my staff at the library door in oxon, being thoroughly persuaded, in my solitude and surcease from the commonwealth affairs, i could not busy myself to better purpose than by reducing that place (which then in every part lay ruinated and waste) to the public use of students." prince's _worthies of devon_, p. , edit. . such being the reflections and determination of sir thomas bodley, he thus ventured to lay open his mind to the heads of the university of oxford: "_to the vice-chancellor (dr. ravis) of oxon; about restoring the public library._ (this letter was published in a convocation holden march , ) sir, although you know me not, as i suppose, yet for the farthering an offer, of evident utility, to your whole university, i will not be too scrupulous in craving your assistance. i have been always of a mind that, if god, of his goodness, should make me able to do any thing, for the benefit of posterity, i would shew some token of affection, that i have ever more borne, to the studies of good learning. i know my portion is too slender to perform, for the present, any answerable act to my willing disposition: but yet, to notify some part of my desire in that behalf, i have resolved thus to deal. where there hath been heretofore a public library in oxford, which, you know, is apparent by the room itself remaining, and by your statute records, i will take the charge and cost upon me to reduce it again to his former use: and to make it fit and handsome, with seats, and shelves, and desks, and all that may be needfull, to stir up other men's benevolence, to help to furnish it with books. and this i purpose to begin, as soon as timber can be gotten, to the intent that you may reap some speedy profit of my project. and where before, as i conceive, it was to be reputed but a store of books of divers benefactors, because it never had any lasting allowance, for augmentation of the number, or supply of books decayed: whereby it came to pass that, when those that were in being were either wasted or embezelled, the whole foundation came to ruin:--to meet with that inconvenience, i will so provide hereafter (if god do not hinder my present design) as you shall be still assured of a standing annual rent, to be disbursed every year in buying of books, in officers' stipends, and other pertinent occasions, with which provision, and some order for the preservation of the place, and of the furniture of it, from accustomed abuses, it may, perhaps, in time to come, prove a notable treasure for the multitude of volumes; an excellent benefit for the use and ease of students; and a singular ornament in the university. i am, therefore, to intreat you, because i will do nothing without their public approbation, to deliver this, that i have signified, in that good sort, that you think meet: and when you please to let me know their acceptation of my offer, i will be ready to effect it with all convenient expedition. but, for the better effecting of it, i do desire to be informed whether the university be sufficiently qualified, by licence of mortmain, or other assurance, to receive a farther grant of any rent or annuity than they do presently enjoy. and, if any instruments be extant of the ancient donations to their former library, i would, with their good liking, see a transcript of them: and likewise of such statutes as were devised by the founders, or afterwards by others for the usage of the books. which is now as much as i can think on, whereunto, at your good leisure, i would request your friendly answer. and, if it lie in my ability to deserve your pains in that behalf, although we be not yet acquainted, you shall find me very forward. from london, feb. , . your affectionate friend, tho. bodley." in the easter following, "mr. bodley came to oxford to view the place on which he intended his bounty, and making them a model of the design with the help of mr. saville, warden of merton college, ordered that the room, or place of stowage, for books, should be new planked, and that benches and repositories fo [transcriber's note: for] books should be set up." wood's _annals of the university_, vol. ii., pt. ii., p. . the worthy founder then pursued his epistolary intercourse with the vice-chancellor: "_to mr. vice chancellor._ sir, i find myself greatly beholden unto you for the speed that you have used in proposing my offer to the whole university, which i also hear by divers friends was greatly graced in their meeting with your courteous kind speeches. and though their answer of acceptance were over thankful and respective; yet i take it unto me for a singular comfort, that it came for that affection, whose thanks in that behalf i do esteem a great deal more than they have reason to esteem a far better offer. in which respect i have returned my dutiful acknowledgement, which i beseech you to present, when you shall call a convocation, about some matter of greater moment. because their letter was in _latin_, methought it did enforce me not to show myself a truant, by attempting the like, with a pen out of practice: which yet i hope they will excuse with a kind construction of my meaning. and to the intent they may perceive that my good will is as forward to perform as to promise, and that i purpose to shew it to their best contentation, i do hold it very requisite that some few should be deputed by the rest of the house to consider, for the whole, of the fittest kind of facture of desks, and other furniture; and when i shall come to oxford, which i determine, god willing, some time before easter, i will then acquaint the self same parties with some notes of a platform, which i and mr. savile have conceived here between us: so that, meeting altogether, we shall soon resolve upon the best, as well for shew, and stately form, as for capacity and strength, and commodity of students. of this my motion i would pray you to take some notice in particular, for that my letter herewith to your public assembly doth refer itself in part to your delivery of my mind. my chiefest care is now, the while, how to season my timber as soon as possible. for that which i am offered by the special favour of merton college, although it were felled a great while since, yet of force it will require, after time it is sawed, a convenient seasoning; least by making too much haste, if the shelves and seats should chance to warp, it might prove to be an eye sore, and cost in a manner cast away. to gain some time in that regard, i have already taken order for setting sawyers a-work, and for procuring besides all other materials; wherein my diligence and speed shall bear me witness of my willingness to accomplish all that i pretend, to every man's good liking. and thus i leave and commend you to god's good tuition. from london, march , -- your assured to use in all your occasions, tho. bodley." neither this nor the preceding letter are published in mr. gutch's valuable edition of wood's original text: but are to be found, as well as every other information here subjoined, in hearne's edition of _joh. confrat. &c., de reb. glaston._, vol. ii., pp. to . we will next peruse the curious list of the first benefactors to the bodleian library. _my lord of essex_: about volumes: greater part in folio. _my lord chamberlain_: volumes, all in a manner new bound, with his arms, and a great part in folio. _the lord montacute_: costly great volumes, in folio; all bought of set purpose, and fairly bound with his arms. _the lord lumley_: volumes in folio. _sir robert sidney_: new volumes in folio, to the value of one hundred pounds, being all very fair, and especially well bound with his arms. _merton college_: volumes of singular good books in folio, &c. _mr. philip scudamor_: volumes: greatest part in folio. _mr. william gent_: volumes at the least. _mr. lawrence bodley_: very fair and new bought books in folio. (there were seven other donations--in money, from to _l._) another list of benefactors; read in convocation, july , . _sir john fortescue, knt._: volumes: of which there are greek mss. of singular worth. _mr. jo. crooke_: recorder of the city of london: good volumes; of which are in folio. _mr. henry savile_: all the greek interpreters upon aust(in). _mr. william gent, of glocester hall_: volumes; of which there are in folio. _mr. thomas allen, of do._, hath given rare mss., with a purpose to do more, and hath been ever a most careful provoker and solicitor of sundry great persons to become benefactors. _mr. william camden_, by his office _clarentius_: volumes; of which are manuscripts. _mr. thomas james, of new college_: volumes: almost all in folio, and sundry good manuscripts. with about other donations, chiefly in money. to dr. raves, vice-chanc. (read in convoc. may , .) a yet larger, and more complete, list will be found in mr. gutch's publication of wood's text. let us next observe how this distinguished bibliomaniac seized every opportunity--laying embargoes upon barges and carriages--for the conveyance of his book-treasures. the ensuing is also in mr. gutch's work: "_to the right w. mr. d. king, dean of christ-church, and vice-chancellor of the university of oxon, or, in his absence, to his deputies there._ (read in convocation, july , .) sir, i have sent down, by a western barge, all the books that i have of this year's collection, which i have requested mr. james, and other of my friends, to see safely brought from burcote, and placed in the library. sir francis vere hath sent me this year his accustomed annual gift of ten pounds. the lady mary vere, wife to sir horace vere, in the time of her widowhood (for so she is desired it should be recorded), being called mrs. hoby, of hales, in gloucestershire, hath given twenty pound. (he then enumerates about other donations, and thus goes on:) thus i thought meet to observe my yearly custom, in acquainting the university with the increase of their store: as my care shall be next, and that very shortly, to endow them with that portion of revenue and land that i have provided, whensoever god shall call me, for the full defraying of any charge that, by present likelihood, the conservation of the books, and all needful allowances to the keeper and others, may from time to time require. i will send you, moreover, a draught of certain statutes, which i have rudely conceived about the employment of that revenue, and for the government of the library: not with any meaning that they should be received, as orders made by me (for it shall appear unto you otherwise) but as notes and remembrances to abler persons, whom hereafter you may nominate (as i will also then request you) to consider of those affairs, and so frame a substantial form of government, sith that which is a foot is in many thinges defective for preservation of the library: for i hold it altogether fitting that the university convocation should be always possessed of an absolute power to devise any statutes, and of those to alter as they list, when they find an occasion of evident utility. but of these and other points, when i send you my project, i will both write more of purpose, and impart unto you freely my best cogitations, being evermore desirous, whatsoever may concern your public good, to procure and advance it so, to the uttermost of my power: as now in the meanwhile, reminding unto you my fervent affection, i rest for any service, your most assured, at commandment, tho. bodleie. london, june , ." in a letter to his "dearest friends, doctor kinge, vice-chancellor, the doctors, proctors, and the rest of the convocation house in oxon," ( th june, ) after telling them how he had secured certain landed property for the payment of the salaries and other expenses attendant upon the library, sir thomas thus draws to a conclusion: "now because i presuppose that you take little pleasure in a tedious letter, having somewhat besides to impart unto you, i have made it known by word to mr. vicechancellor, who, i know, will not fail to acquaint you with it: as withall i have intreated him to supply, in my behalf, all my negligent omissions, and defective form of thanks, for all your public honours, entertainments, letters, gifts, and other graces conferred upon me, which have so far exceeded the compass of my merits that, where before i did imagine that nothing could augment my zealous inclination to your general good, now methinks i do feel it (as i did a great while since) was very highly augmented: insomuch as i cannot but shrive myself thus freely and soothly unto you. that, albeit, among a number of natural imperfections, i have least of all offended in the humour of ambition, yet now so it is, that i do somewhat repent me of my too much niceness that way: not as carried with an appetite to rake more riches to myself (wherein, god is my witness, my content is complete) but only in respect of my greedy desire to make a livelier demonstration of the same that i bear to my common mother, than i have hitherto attained sufficient ability to put in execution. with which unfeigned testification of my devotion unto you, and with my daily fervent prayers for the endless prosperity of your joint endeavours, in that whole institution of your public library, i will close up this letter, and rest, as i shall ever, yours, in all loving and dutiful affection, thomas bodley. london, may , ." the following, which is also in mr. gutch's publication, shews the laudable restlessness, and insatiable ambition, of our venerable bibliomaniac, in ransacking foreign libraries for the completion of his own. "_to the right worshipfull mr. d. singleton, vicechancellor of the university of oxon._ (read in convocation, nov. , .) sir, about some three years past, i made a motion, here in london, to mr. pindar, consul of the company of english merchants at aleppo (a famous port in the turk's dominions) that he would use his best means to procure me some books in the syriac, arabic, turkish, and persian tongues, or in any other language of those eastern nations: because i make no doubt but, in process of time, by the extraordinary diligence of some one or other student, they may be readily understood, and some special use made of their kind of learning in those parts of the world: and where i had a purpose to reimburse all the charge that might grow thereupon, he sent of late unto me several volumes in the foresaid tongues, and of his liberal disposition hath bestowed them freely on the library. they are manuscripts all (for in those countries they have no kind of printing) and were valued in that place at a very high rate. i will send them, ere be long, praying you the while to notify so much unto the university, and to move them to write a letter of thanks, which i will find means to convey to his hands, being lately departed from london to constantinople. whether the letter be indited in latin or english, it is not much material, but yet, in my conceit, it will do best to him in english." (the remainder of this letter is devoted to a scheme of building the public schools at oxford; in which sir thomas found a most able and cheerful coadjutor, in one, _sir jo. benet_; who seems to have had an extensive and powerful connection, and who set the scheme on foot, "like a true affected son to his ancient mother, with a cheerful propension to take the charge upon him without groaning.") in april , queen elizabeth granted sir thomas "a passport of safe conveyance to denmark"; and wrote a letter to the king of denmark of the same date, within two days. she wrote, also, a letter to julius, duke of brunswick of the same date: in which the evils that were then besetting the christian world abroad were said to be rushing suddenly, as "from the trojan horse." "these three letters (observes mr. baker to his friend hearne) are only copies, but very fairly wrote, and seem to have been duplicates kept by him that drew the original letters." we will peruse but two more of these bodleian epistles, which hearne very properly adds as an amusing appendix, as well to the foregoing, as to his _reliquiæ bodleianæ_ ( , vo). they are written to men whose names must ever be held in high veneration by all worthy bibliomanacs. "_sir tho. bodley to sir robert cotton._ (_ex. bibl. cotton._) sir, i was thrice to have seen you at your house, but had not the hap to find you at home. it was only to know how you hold your old intention for helping to furnish the university library: where i purpose, god willing, to place all the books that i have hitherto gathered, within these three weeks. and whatsoever any man shall confer for the storing of it, such order is taken for a due memorial of his gift as i am persuaded he cannot any way receive a greater contentment of any thing to the value otherwise bestowed. thus much i thought to signify unto you: and to request you to hear how you rest affected. yours, to use in any occasion, tho. bodley. from my house, june ." "_sir henry savile to sir r(obert) c(otton)._ sir, i have made mr. bodley acquainted with your kind and friendly offer, who accepteth of it in most thankful manner: and if it pleaseth you to appoint to-morrow at afternoon, or upon monday or tuesday next, at some hour likewise after dinner, we will not fail to be with you at your house for that purpose. and remember i give you fair warning that if you hold any book so dear as that you would be loth to have him out of your sight, set him aside before hand. for my own part, i will not do that wrong to my judgment as to chuse of the worst, if better be in place: and, beside, you would account me a simple man. but to leave jesting, we will any of the days come to you, leaving, as great reason is, your own in your own power freely to retain or dispose. true it is that i have raised some expectation of the quality of your gift in mr. bodley, whom you shall find a gentleman in all respects worthy of your acquaintance. and so, with my best commendations, i commit you to god. this st. peter's day. your very assured friend, henry savile." it only remains now to indulge the dutiful sons of alma mater with a fac-simile wood-cut impression of the profile of the venerable founder of the bodleian library, taken from a print of a medal in the _catalogi librorum manuscriptorum angliæ, &c._, , fol.; but whether it have any resemblance to the bust of him, "carved to the life by an excellent hand at london, and shortly after placed in a niche in the south wall of the same library," with the subjoined inscription, i cannot at this moment recollect. [illustration: thomas sackvillus dorset, comes, summus angliÆ thesaurar. et hujus acad. cancellar. thomÆ bodleio equiti aurato qui bibliothecam hanc instituit honoris causa p.p.] the library of sir thomas bodley, when completed, formed the figure of a t: it was afterwards resolved, on the books accumulating, and the benefactions increasing, to finish it in the form of an h; in which state it now remains. sir kenelm digby, like a thorough bred bibliomaniac, "gave fifty very good oaks, to purchase a piece of ground of exeter college, laying on the north west side of the library; on which, and their own ground adjoining, they might erect the future fabric." the laying of the foundation of this erection is thus described by wood; concluding with a catastrophe, at which i sadly fear the wicked reader will smile. "on the thirteenth of may, being tuesday, , the vice-chancellor, doctors, heads of houses, and proctors, met at st. mary's church about of the clock in the morning; thence each, having his respective formalities on came to this place, and took their seats that were then erected on the brim of the foundation. over against them was built a scaffold, where the two proctors, with divers masters, stood. after they were all settled, the university musicians, who stood upon the leads at the west end of the library, sounded a lesson on their wind music. which being done, the singing men of christ-church, with others, sang a lesson, after which the senior proctor, mr. herbert pelham, of magdalen college, made an eloquent oration: that being ended also, the music sounded again, and continued playing till the vice-chancellor went to the bottom of the foundation to lay the first stone in one of the south angles. but no sooner had he deposited a piece of gold on the said stone, according to the usual manner in such ceremonies, but the earth fell in from one side of the foundation, and the scaffold that was thereon broke and fell with it; so that all those that were thereon, to the number of a hundred at least, namely, the proctors, principals of halls, masters, and some bachelaurs, fell down all together, one upon another, into the foundation; among whom, the under butler of exeter college had his shoulder broken or put out of joint, and a scholar's arm bruised." "the solemnity being thus concluded with such a sad catastrophe, the breach was soon after made up and the work going chearfully forward, was in four years space finished." _annals of the university of oxford_; vol. ii., pt. ii., p. . gutch's edition. we will take leave of sir thomas bodley, and of his noble institution, with the subjoined representation of the university's arms--as painted upon the ceiling of the library, in innumerable compartments; hoping that the period is not very remote when a _history of the bodleian library_, more ample and complete than any thing which has preceded it, will appear prefixed to a _catalogue of the books_, like unto that which is hinted at p. , ante, as "an urgent desideratum." [illustration: dominvs illvminatio mea]] lis. alas, you bring to my mind those precious hours that are gone by, never to be recalled, which i wasted within this glorious palace of bodley's erection! how i sauntered, and gazed, and sauntered again.-- phil. your case is by no means singular. but you promise, when you revisit the library, not to behave so naughtily again? lis. i was not then a convert to the bibliomania! now, i will certainly devote the leisure of six autumnal weeks to examine minutely some of the precious tomes which are contained in it. lysand. very good. and pray favour us with the result of your profound researches: as one would like to have the most minute account of the treasures contained within those hitherto unnumbered volumes. phil. as every sweet in this world is balanced by its bitter, i wonder that these worthy characters were not lampooned by some sharp-set scribbler--whose only chance of getting perusers for his work, and thereby bread for his larder, was by the novelty and impudence of his attacks. any thing new and preposterous is sure of drawing attention. affirm that you see a man standing upon one leg, on the pinnacle of saint paul's[ ]--or that the ghost of inigo jones had appeared to you, to give you the extraordinary information that sir christopher wren had stolen the whole of the plan of that cathedral from a design of his own--and do you not think that you would have spectators and auditors enough around you? [footnote : this is now oftentimes practised by some wag, in his "_walke in powles_." whether the same anecdote is recorded in the little slim pamphlet published in , to., under the same title--not having the work--(and indeed how should i? vide _bibl. reed_, no. , _cum pretiis_!) i cannot take upon me to determine.] lis. yes, verily: and i warrant some half-starved scrivener of the elizabethan period drew his envenomed dart to endeavour to perforate the cuticle of some worthy bibliomaniacal wight. lysand. you may indulge what conjectures you please; but i know of no anti-bibliomaniacal satirist of this period. stubbes did what he could, in his "_anatomy of abuses_,"[ ] to disturb every social and harmless amusement of the age. he was the forerunner of that snarling satirist, prynne; but i ought not thus to cuff him, for fear of bringing upon me the united indignation of a host of black-letter critics and philologists. a _large and clean_ copy of his sorrily printed work is among the choicest treasures of a shakspearian virtuoso. [footnote : "the anatomie of abuses: _contayning a discoverie, or briefe summarie of such notable vices and imperfections as now raigne in many christian countreyes of the worlde: but (especiallie) in a very famous ilande called ailgna_:" &c. printed by richard jones, , small vo. vide herbert's _typographical antiquities_, vol. iii., p. , for the whole title. sir john hawkins, in his _history of music_, vol iii., , calls this "a curious and very scarce book;" and so does my friend, mr. utterson; who revels in his morocco-coated copy of it--"_exemplar olim farmerianum!_" but let us be candid; and not sacrifice our better judgments to our book-passions. after all, stubbes's work is a caricatured drawing. it has strong passages, and a few original thoughts; and, is moreover, one of the very few works printed in days of yore which have running titles to the subjects discussed in them. these may be recommendations with the bibliomaniac; but he should be informed that this volume contains a great deal of puritanical cant, and licentious language; that vices are magnified in it in order to be lashed, and virtues diminished that they might not be noticed. stubbes equals prynne in his anathemas against "plays and interludes:" and in his chapters upon "dress" and "dancing" he rakes together every coarse and pungent phrase in order to describe "these horrible sins" with due severity. he is sometimes so indecent that, for the credit of the age, and of a virgin reign, we must hope that every virtuous dame threw the copy of his book, which came into her possession, behind the fire. this may reasonably account for its present rarity. i do not discover it in the catalogues of the libraries of _pearson_, _steevens_, or _brand_; but see _bibl. wright_, no. .] but admitting even that stubbes had drawn his arrow to the head, and grazed the skin of such men as bodley and cotton, the wound inflicted by this weapon must have been speedily closed and healed by the balsamic medicine administered by andrew maunsell, in his _catalogue of english printed books_.[ ] this little thin folio volume afforded a delicious treat to all honest bibliomaniacs. it revived the drooping spirits of the despondent; and, like the syrup of the renowned dr. brodum, circulated within the system, and put all the generous juices in action. the niggardly collector felt the influence of rivalship; he played a deeper stake at book-gambling; and hastened, by his painfully acquired knowledge of what was curious and rare in books, to anticipate the rustic collector--which latter, putting the best wheels and horses to his carriage, rushed from the country to the metropolis, to seize, at maunsell's shop, a choice copy of _cranmer's bible, or morley's canzonets_.[ ] [footnote : this catalogue, the first publication of the kind ever put forth in this country, is complete in two parts; , folio: first part containing pages, exclusive of three preliminary epistles: the second, pages; exclusive of three similar introductory pieces. the _first part_ is devoted entirely to divinity: and in the dedicatory epistle to queen elizabeth, maunsell tells her majesty that he thought it "worth his poor labour to collect a catalogue of the divine books, so mightily increased in her reign; whereby her majesty's most faithful and loving subjects may be put in remembrance of the works of so excellent authors," &c. the second part is devoted to a brief account of books in the remaining branches of literature, arts, sciences, &c. maunsell promised to follow it up by a _third_ part; but a want of due encouragement seems to have damped the bibliographical ardour of the compiler; for this third part never appeared: a circumstance which, in common with the late mr. steevens, all bibliomaniacs may "much lament." see the _athenæum_, vol i., ; also herbert's _typographical antiquities_, vol ii., p. . a copy of this volume has found its way into the advocates' library at edinburgh; _cat. adv. libr._, vol ii., p. . ruddiman, who was formerly the librarian of this latter valuable collection, had probably read hearne's commendation of it:--namely, that it was "a very scarce, and yet a very useful, book." _bened. abbat._, vol. i., p. liv. mr. heber possesses a curious copy of it, which was formerly herbert's, with the margins filled with his ms. addenda.] [footnote : "of the translation appointed to bee read in churches, in kinge henry the , his daies," printed in the largest volume, . "tho. morley, bachiler of musique, and one of her maiestie's royal chappell, _his conzonets_, or little short songes to three voyces. prin. by tho. est. . to." see p. ., pt. i., p. , pt. ii., of _maunsell's catalogue_; but let the reader consult p. , ante, concerning this "largest volume" of the holy scriptures.] let us, however, not forget that we have reached the reign of james i.; a monarch who, like justinian, affected to be "greatly given to study of books;"[ ] and who, according to burton's testimony, wished he had been chained to one of the shelves of the bodleian library.[ ] of all literary tastes, james had the most strange and sterile. let us leave him to his _demonology_; but notice, with the respect that it merits, the more rational and even elegantly cultivated mind of his son prince henry;[ ] of whose passion for books there are some good evidences upon record. we will next proceed to the mention of a shrewd scholar and bibliomaniac, and ever active voyager, ycleped thomas coryate, the _peregrine of odcombe_. this facetious traveller, who was as quaint and original a writer as old tom fuller, appears (when he had time and opportunity) to have taken special notice of libraries; and when he describes to us his "worm eaten" copy of _josephus's antiquities_,[ ] "written in ancient longobard characters in parchment," one cannot but indulge a natural wish to know something of the present existence of a ms. which had probably escaped oberthür, the last laborious editor of josephus. [footnote : "greatly gyuen to study of bokys:" _rastell's chronicle, or pastyme of people_, p. , edit. , to.] [footnote : the passage is somewhere in burton's _anatomy of mechanoly_. but i cannot just now, put my finger upon it.] [footnote : the works of king james i. (of england) were published in rather a splendid folio volume in the year . amongst these, his _demonology_ is the "opus maximum." of his son prince henry, there is, in this volume, at the top of one of the preliminary pieces, a very pretty half length portrait; when he was quite a boy. a charming whole length portrait of the same accomplished character, when he was a young man, engraved by paas, may be seen in the first folio edition of drayton's _polyolbion_: but this, the reader will tell me, is mere grangerite information. proceed we, therefore, to a pithy, but powerful, demonstration of the bibliomaniacal character of the said prince henry. "in the paper office, there is a book, no. , containing prince henry's privy-purse expences, for one year," &c. the whole expense of one year was _l._ among other charges, the following are remarkable: £ _s._ _d._ th october, paid to a frenchman, that presented _a book_ th october, paid mr. holyoak for writing a _catalogue of the library_ which the prince had of lord lumley &c. &c. &c. _apology for the believers in the shakspeare-papers_, , vo., p. .] [footnote : look, gentle reader, at the entire ungarbled passage--amongst many similar ones which may be adduced--in vol. i., p. , of his "_crudities_"--or travels: edit. , vo. coryat's [transcriber's note: alternative spelling] talents, as a traveller, are briefly, but brilliantly, described in the _quarterly review_, vol. ii., p. .] let me here beseech you to pay due attention to the works of henry peacham, when they come across you. the first edition of that elegantly written volume, "_the compleat gentleman_," was published i believe in the reign of james i., in the year . loren. i possess not only this, but every subsequent copy of it, and a fair number of copies of his other works. he and braithwait were the "par nobile fratrum" of their day. phil. i have often been struck with some curious passages in peacham, relating to the education of youth[ ] in our own country; as i find, from them, that the complaint of _severity of discipline_ still continued, notwithstanding the able work of roger ascham, which had recommended a mild and conciliatory mode of treatment. [footnote : the history of the education of youth in this country might form an amusing little octavo volume. we have _treatises_ and _essays_ enough upon the subject; but a narrative of its first rude efforts, to its present, yet not perfected, form, would be interesting to every parent, and observer of human nature. my present researches only enable me to go back as far as trevisa's time, towards the close of the th century; when i find, from the works of this vicar of berkeley, that "every friar that had _state in school_, such as they were then, had an huge library." _harl. mss._, no. . but what the particular system was, among youth, which thus so highly favoured the bibliomania, i have not been able to ascertain. i suspect, however, that knowledge made but slow advances; or rather that its progress was almost inverted; for, at the end of the subsequent century, our worthy printer, caxton, tells us that he found "but few who could write in their registers the occurrences of the day." _polychronicon; prol. typog. antiquit._, vol. i., . in the same printer's prologue to _catho magnus_ (_id._, vol. i., ) there is a melancholy complaint about the youth of london; who, although, when children, they were "fair, wise, and prettily bespoken--at the full ripening, they had neither kernel nor good corn found in them." this is not saying much for the academic or domestic treatment of young gentlemen, towards the close of the th century. at the opening of the ensuing century, a variety of elementary treatises, relating to the education of youth, were published chiefly under the auspices of dean colet, and composed by a host of learned grammarians, of whom honourable mention has been made at page , ante. these publications are generally adorned with a rude wood-cut; which, if it be copied from truth, affords a sufficiently striking proof of the severity of the ancient discipline: for the master is usually seated in a large arm-chair, with a tremendous rod across his knees; and the scholars are prostrate before him, either on the ground upon bended knees, or sitting upon low benches. nor was this rigid system relaxed in the middle of the same (xvith) century; when roger ascham composed his incomparable treatise, intitled the "_schoolmaster_;" the object of which was to decry the same severity of discipline. this able writer taught his countrymen the value of making the road to knowledge smooth and inviting, by smiles and remunerations, rather than by stripes and other punishments. indeed, such was the stern and draco-like character which schoolmasters of this period conceived themselves authorized to assume that neither rank, nor situation, nor sex, were exempt from the exercise of their tyranny. lady jane grey tells ascham that her former teacher used to give her "pinches, and cuffs, and bobs," &c. the preface to the schoolmaster informs us that two gentlemen, who dined with ascham at cecil's table, were of opinion that nicolas udal, then head master of eaton school, "was the best schoolmaster of their time, and the _greatest beater_!" bishop latimer, in his fourth sermon (edit. , fol. to ), has drawn such a picture of the londoners of this period that the philosopher may imagine that youths, who sprung from such parents, required to be ruled with a rod of iron. but it has been the fashion of all writers, from the age of st. austin downwards, to depreciate the excellences, and magnify the vices, of the times in which they lived. ludovicus vives, who was latimer's contemporary, has attacked both schoolmasters and youths, in an ungracious style; saying of the former that "some taught ovid's books of love to their scholars, and some make expositions and expounded the vices." he also calls upon the young women, in the language of st. jerome, "to avoid, as a mischief or poison of chastity, young men with heads bushed and trimmed; and sweet smelling skins of outlandish mice." _instruction of a christian woman_; edit. , sign. d , rect. &c. i am not aware of any work of importance, relating to the education of youth, which appeared till the publication of the _compleat gentleman_ by henry peacham: an author, who richly deserves all the handsome things above said of him in the text. his chapters "_of the duty of masters_," and "_of the duty of parents_," are valuable upon many accounts: inasmuch as they afford curious anecdotes of the system of academic and domestic education then pursued, and are accompanied with his own sagacious and candid reflections. peacham was an _aschamite_ in respect to lenity of discipline; as the following extracts, from the foregoing work, (edit. ) will unequivocally prove. peacham first observes upon the different modes of education: "but we see on the contrary, out of the master's carterly judgment, like horses in a team, the boys are set to draw all alike, when some one or two prime and able wits in the school, [greek: auto didaktoi] (which he culs out to admiration if strangers come, as a costardmonger his fairest pippins) like fleet hovnds go away with the game, when the rest need helping over a stile a mile behind: hence, being either quite discouraged in themselves, or taken away by their friends (who for the most part measure their learning by the form they set in), they take leave of their books while they live," &c. p. . "some affect, and severer schools enforce, a precise and tedious strictness, in long keeping the schollers by the walls: as from before six in the morning, till twelve or past: so likewise in the afternoon. which, beside the dulling of the wit and dejecting the spirit (for, "otii non minus quam negotii ratio extare debet") breeds in him, afterwards, a kind of hate and carelessness of study when he comes to be "sui juris," at his own liberty (as experience proves by many, who are sent from severe schools unto the universities): withall over-loading his memory, and taking off the edge of his invention, with over heavy tasks, in themes, verses," &c., p. . "nor is it my meaning that i would all masters to be tyed to one method, no more than all the shires of england to come up to london by one highway: there may be many equally alike good. and since method, as one saith, is but [greek: odopoiêtikê], let every master, if he can, by pulling up stiles and hedges, make a more near and private way to himself; and in god's name say, with the divinest of poets, _deserta per avia dulcis raptat amor. juvat ire iugis, quâ nulla priorum_ castaliam _molli divertitur orbita clivo._ (georg. libi. iij.) with sweet love rapt, i now by deserts pass, and over hills where never track of yore: descending easily, yet remembered was, that led the way to castalie before. (peacham.) but instead of many good, they have infinite bad; and go stumbling from the right, as if they went blindfold for a wager. hence cometh the shifting of the scholler from master to master; who, poor boy (like a hound among a company of ignorant hunters hollowing every deer they see), misseth the right, begetteth himself new labour, and at last, by one of skill and well read, beaten for his paines," pp. , . peacham next notices the extreme severity of discipline exercised in some schools. "i knew one, who in winter would ordinarily, in a cold morning, whip his boys over for no other purpose than to get himself a heat: another beats them for swearing, and all the while sweares himself with horrible oaths. he would forgive any fault saving that! i had, i remember, myself (neer st. alban's in hertfordshire, where i was born) a master, who, by no entreaty, would teach any scholler he had farther than his father had learned before him; as if he had only learned but to read english, the son, though he went with him seven years, should go no further: his reason was, they would then prove saucy rogues, and controle their fathers! yet these are they that oftentimes have our hopefull gentry under their charge and tuition, to bring them up in science and civility!" p. . this absurd system is well contrasted with the following account of the lenity observed in some of the schools on the continent: "in germany the school is, and as the name imports, it ought to be, merely, ludus literarius, a very pastime of learning, where it is a rare thing to see a rod stirring: yet i heartily wish that our children of england were but half so ready in writing and speaking latin, which boys of ten and twelve years old will do so roundly, and with so neat a phrase and style, that many of our masters would hardly mend them; having only for their punishment, shame; and for their reward, praise," p. . "wherefore i cannot but commend the custome of their schools in the low-countries, where for the avoyding of this tedious sitting still, and with irksome poring on the book all day long, after the scholler hath received his lecture, he leaveth the school for an houre, and walkes abroad with one or two of his fellows, either into the field or up among the trees upon the rampire, as in antwerp, breda, vtrecht, &c., when they confer and recreate themselves till time calls them in to repeat, where perhaps they stay an hour; so abroad again, and thus at their pleasure the whole day," p. . thus have we pursued the _history of the education of boys_ to a period quite modern enough for the most superficial antiquary to supply the connecting links down to the present times. nor can we conclude this prolix note without observing upon two things which are remarkable enough: first, that in a country like our own--the distinguishing characteristics of whose inhabitants are gravity, reserve, and good sense--lads should conduct themselves with so much rudeness, flippancy, and tyranny towards each other--and secondly, that masters should, in too many instances, exercise a discipline suited rather to a government of despotism and terror than to a land of liberty and social comfort! but all human improvement, and human happiness, is progressive. speramus meliora!] lysand. but you must not believe every thing that is said in favour of _continental_ lenity of discipline, shewn to youth, if the testimony of a modern newspaper may be credited!---- lis. what your newspaper may hold forth i will not pretend to enter into. lysand. nay, here is the paragraph; which i cut out from "_the observer_," and will now read it to you. "a german magazine recently announced the death of a schoolmaster in suabia, who, for years, had superintended a large institution with old fashioned severity. from an average, inferred by means of recorded observations, one of the ushers had calculated that, in the course of his exertions, he had given _ , canings, , floggings, , custodes, , tips with the ruler, , boxes on the ear, and , tasks by heart_. it was further calculated that he had made _ boys stand on peas, kneel on a sharp edge of wood, wear the fool's cap, and , hold the rod_. how vast (exclaims the journalist) the quantity of human misery inflicted by a single perverse educator!" now, my friends, what have you to say against the _english_ system of education? phil. this is only defending bad by worse. lis. where are we digressing? what are become of our bibliomaniacal heroes? lysand. you do right to call me to order. let us turn from the birch, to the book, history. contemporaneous with peacham, lived that very curious collector of ancient popular little pieces, as well as lover of "sacred secret soul soliloquies," the renowned _melancholy_ composer, ycleped robert burton;[ ] who, i do not scruple to number among the most marked bibliomaniacs of the age; notwithstanding his saucy railing against frankfort book-fairs. we have abundance of testimony (exclusive of the fruits of his researches, which appear by his innumerable marginal references to authors of all ages and characters) that this original, amusing, and now popular, author was an arrant book-hunter; or, as old anthony hath it, "a devourer of authors." rouse, the librarian of bodleian, is said to have liberally assisted burton in furnishing him with choice books for the prosecution of his extraordinary work. [footnote : i suppose lysander to allude to a memorandum of hearne, in his _benedictus abbas_, p. iv., respecting robert burton being a collector of "ancient popular little pieces." from this authority we find that he gave "a great variety" of these pieces, with a multitude of books, of the best kind, to the "bodleian library."--one of these was that "opus incomparabile," the "_history of tom thumb_," and the other, the "_pleasant and merry history of the mylner of abingdon_." the expression "sacred secret soul soliloquies" belongs to braithwait: and is thus beautifully interwoven in the following harmonious couplets: ----no minute but affords some tears. no walks but private solitary groves shut from frequent, his contemplation loves; no treatise, nor discourse, so sweetly please as sacred-secret soule soliloquies. _arcadian princesse_, lib. , p. . and see, gentle reader, how the charms of solitude--of "walking alone in some solitary grove, betwixt wood and water, by a brook-side, to meditate upon some delightsome and pleasant subject" are depicted by the truly original pencil of this said robert burton, in his _anatomy of melancholy_, vol. i., p. , edit. . but our theme is bibliomania. take, therefore, concerning the same author, the following: and then hesitate, if thou canst, about his being infected with the book-disease. "what a catalogue of new books all this year, all this age (i say) have our frank-furt marts, our domestic marts, brought out! twice a year, 'proferunt se nova ingenia et ostentant;' we stretch our wits out! and set them to sale: 'magno conatu nihil agimus,' &c. 'quis tam avidus librorum helluo,' who can read them? as already, we shall have a vast chaos and confusion of books; we are oppressed with them; our eyes ake with reading, our fingers with turning," &c. this is painting _ad vivum_--after the life. we see and feel every thing described. truly, none but a thorough master in bibliomaniacal mysteries could have thus thought and written! see "_democritus to the reader_," p. ; perhaps the most highly finished piece of dissection in the whole _anatomical work_.] about this period lived lord lumley; a nobleman of no mean reputation as a bibliomaniac. but what shall we say to lord shaftesbury's eccentric neighbour, henry hastings? who, in spite of his hawks, hounds, kittens, and oysters,[ ] could not for [transcriber's note: extraneous 'for'] forbear to indulge his book propensities though in a moderate degree! let us fancy we see him, in his eightieth year, just alighted from the toils of the chase, and listening, after dinner, with his "single glass" of ale by his side, to some old woman with "spectacle on nose" who reads to him a choice passage out of john fox's _book of martyrs_! a rare old boy was this hastings. but i wander--and may forget another worthy, and yet more ardent, bibliomaniac, called john clungeon, who left a press, and some books carefully deposited in a stout chest, to the parish church at southampton. we have also evidence of this man's having _erected a press_ within the same; but human villany has robbed us of every relic of his books and printing furniture.[ ] from southampton, you must excuse me if i take a leap to london; in order to introduce you into the wine cellars of one john ward; where, i suppose, a few choice copies of favourite authors were sometimes kept in a secret recess by the side of the oldest bottle of hock. we are indebted to hearne for a brief, but not uninteresting, notice of this _vinous_ book collector.[ ] [footnote : of the bibliomaniacal spirit of lord lumley the reader has already had some slight mention made at pages , , ante. of henry hastings, gilpin has furnished us with some anecdotes which deserve to be here recorded. they are taken from hutchin's _hist. of dorsetshire_, vol. ii., p. . "mr. hastings was low of stature, but strong and active, of a ruddy complexion, with flaxen hair. his cloaths were always of green cloth. his house was of the old fashion; in the midst of a large park, well stocked with deer, rabbits, and fish-ponds. he had a long narrow bowling green in it, and used to play with round sand bowls. here too he had a banquetting room built, like a stand in a large tree. he kept all sorts of hounds, that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger; and had hawks of all kinds, both long and short winged. his great hall was commonly strewed with marrow-bones, and full of hawk-perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers. the upper end of it was hung with fox-skins of this and the last year's killing. here and there a pole-cat was intermixed, and hunter's poles in great abundance. the parlour was a large room, completely furnished in the same style. on a broad hearth, paved with brick, lay some of the choicest terriers, hounds, and spaniels. one or two of the great chairs had litters of cats in them, which were not to be disturbed. of these, three or four always attended him at dinner, and a little white wand lay by his trencher, to defend it, if they were too troublesome. in the windows, which were very large, lay his arrows, cross-bows, and other accoutrements. the corners of the room were filled with his best hunting and hawking poles. his oyster table stood at the lower end of the room, which was in constant use twice a day, all the year round; for he never failed to eat oysters both at dinner and supper, with which the neighbouring town of pool supplied him. at the upper end of the room stood a small table with a double desk; one side of which held a church bible: the other the book of martyrs. on different tables in the room lay hawks'-hoods, bells, old hats, with their crowns thrust in, full of pheasant eggs, tables, dice, cards, and store of tobacco pipes. at one end of this room was a door, which opened into a closet, where stood bottles of strong beer and wine; which never came out but in single glasses, which was the rule of the house, for he never exceeded himself, nor permitted others to exceed. answering to this closet was a door into an old chapel; which had been long disused for devotion; but in the pulpit, as the safest place, was always to be found a cold chine of beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of bacon, or a great apple-pye, with thick crust, well baked. his table cost him not much, though it was good to eat at. his sports supplied all but beef and mutton, except on fridays, when he had the best of fish. he never wanted a london pudding, and he always sang it in with "_my part lies therein-a_." he drank a glass or two of wine at meals; put syrup of gilly-flowers into his sack, and had always a tun glass of small beer standing by him, which he often stirred about with rosemary. he lived to be an hundred, and never lost his eyesight, nor used spectacles. he got on horseback without help, and rode to the death of the stag till he was past fourscore." gilpin's _forest scenery_, vol. ii., pp. , . i should add, from the same authority, that hastings was a neighbour of anthony ashley cooper, earl of shaftesbury, with whom (as was likely enough) he had no cordial agreement.] [footnote : "in the northern chapel which is parted from the side aile by a beautiful open gothic screen, is a handsome monument to the memory of the lord chancellor wriothesly, and a _large and costly standing chest_, carved and inlaid, and stated, by an inscription on its front, to have been given, _with the books in it_, by john clungeon. the inscription is as follows: "john, the sonne of john clungeon of this towne, alderman, _erected this presse_ and gave certain books, who died, anno . "the books are, however, now gone, and the surplices, &c. are kept in the chest." see a tasteful and elegantly printed little volume, entitled "_a walk through southampton_;" by sir h.c. englefield, bart. , vo., p. .] [footnote : ward is described by hearne as being "a citizen and vintner of london," and "a lover of antiquity's." he had a copy of the _chartulary of dunstaple_, in ms., which was put by wanley into the harleian collection. the following entry is too much of a characteristic trait, not to be gratifying to the palate of a thorough bred bibliomaniac; it relates to the said chartulary:--"also this vellum, at both ends of the booke, was then added, put in, and inserted, at the costs of the said mr. (john) ward, in the said yeare of our lord, , _s._ _d._ binding and claspes vellum " _annals of dunstaple priory_, vol. i., p. xxx., note.] lis. if master cox, "by profession a mason," and living in the country, could have collected such a cabinet of romances and ballads--why should not a wine merchant, living in the metropolis, have turned his attention to a similar pursuit, and have been even more successful in the objects of it? phil. i know not; particularly as we have, at the present day, some commercial characters--whose dealings in trade are as opposite to books as frogs are to roast beef--absolute madmen in search after black-letter, large paper, and uncut copies! but proceed, lysander. lysand. such was the influence of the _book mania_ about, or rather a little before, this period that even the sacred retirement of a monastery, established upon protestant principles, and conducted by rules so rigid as almost to frighten the hardiest ascetic, even such a spot was unable to resist the charms of book-collecting and book-embellishment. how st. jerome or st. austin would have lashed the ferrar family[ ] for the gorgeous decorations of their volumes, and for devoting so much precious time and painful attention to the art and mystery of book-binding! yes, lisardo; it is truly curious to think upon the _little gidding monastery_--near which, perhaps, were ----"rugged rocks, that holy knees had worn--" and to imagine that the occupiers of such a place were infected--nay, inflamed--with a most powerful ardour for curious, neat, splendid, and, i dare venture to affirm, matchless copies of the several volumes which they composed! but i will now hasten to give very different evidence of the progress of this disease, by noticing the labours of a bibliomaniac of first rate celebrity; i mean elias ashmole:[ ] whose museum at oxford abundantly proves his curious and pertinacious spirit in book-collecting. his works, put forth under his own superintendence, with his name subjoined, shew a delicate taste, an active research, and, if we except his _hermetical_ propensities, a fortunate termination. his "opus maximum" is the _order of the garter_; a volume of great elegance both in the composition and decorations. your copy of it, i perceived, was upon _large paper_; and cost you-- [footnote : it remains here to make good the above serious charges brought against the ancient and worthy family of the ferrars; and this it is fully in my power to do, from the effectual aid afforded me by dr. wordsworth, in the fifth volume of his _ecclesiastical biography_; where the better part of dr. peckard's life of nicholas ferrar is published, together with some valuable and original addenda from the archiepiscopal library at lambeth. be it, however, known to dr. wordsworth, and the reviewer of the ecclesiastical biography in the _quarterly review_, vol. iv., pp. , , that hearne had previously published a copious and curious account of the monastery at little gidding in the supplement to his _thom. caii. vind. antiquit. oxon._, , vo., vol. ii.: which, as far as i have had an opportunity of examining dr. wordsworth's account, does not appear to have been known to this latter editor. we will now proceed to the bibliomaniacal anecdotes of nicholas ferrar, senior and junior. "amongst other articles of instruction and amusement, mr. ferrar (senior) entertained an ingenious _book-binder_ who taught the family, females as well as males, the whole art and skill of _book-binding_, gilding, lettering, and what they called pasting-printing, by the use of the rolling press. by this assistance he composed a full harmony, or concordance, of the four evangelists, _adorned with many beautiful pictures_, which required more than a year for the composition, and was divided into heads or chapters." there is then a minute account of the mechanical process (in which the nieces assisted) how, by means of "great store of the best and strongest white paper, nice knives and scissars, pasting and rolling-press" work--the arduous task was at length accomplished: and mary collet, one of mr. ferrar's nieces, put the grand finishing stroke to the whole, by "doing a deed"--which has snapt asunder the threads of penelope's web for envy:--"she bound the book entirely, all wrought in gold, in a new and most elegant fashion." the fame of this book, or concordance, as it was called, reached the ears of charles i., who "intreated" (such was his majesty's expression) to be favoured with a sight of it. laud and cousins, who were then chaplains in waiting, presented it to the king; who "after long and serious looking it over, said, 'this is indeed a most valuable work, and in many respects to be presented to the greatest prince upon earth: for the matter it contains is the richest of all treasures. the laborious composure of it into this excellent form of _an harmony_, the judicious contrivance of the method, the curious workmanship in so neatly cutting out and disposing the text, _the nice laying of these costly pictures, and the exquisite art expressed in the binding_, are, i really think, not to be equalled. i must acknowledge myself to be, indeed, greatly indebted to the family for this jewel: and whatever is in my power i shall, at any time, be ready to do for any of them.'" _eccles. biogr._, vol. v., - . this was spoken, by charles, in the true spirit of a book-knight! cromwell, i suppose, would have shewn the same mercy to this treasure as he did to the madonnas of raffaelle--thrown it behind the fire, as idolatrous! the nephew emulated and eclipsed the bibliomaniacal celebrity of his uncle. at the age of twenty-one, he executed three books (or "works" as they are called) of uncommon curiosity and splendour. archbishop laud, who had a keen eye and solid judgment for things of this sort (as the reader will find in the following pages) undertook to introduce young ferrars to the king. the introduction is told in such a pleasing style of _naiveté_, and the manual dexterity of the young bibliomaniac is so smartly commended by charles, that i cannot find it in my heart to abridge much of the narrative. "when the king saw the archbishop enter the room, he said, 'what have you brought with you those _rarities_ and _jewels_ you told me of?' 'yea, sire,' replied the bishop; 'here is the young gentleman and his works.' so the bishop, taking him by the hand, led him up to the king. he, falling down on his knees, the king gave him his hand to kiss, bidding him rise up. the box was opened, and nicholas ferrar, first presented to the king that book made for the prince; who taking it from him, looking well on the outside, which was _all green velvet, stately and richly gilt all over, with great broad strings, edged with gold lace, and curiously bound_, said, 'here is a fine book for charles, indeed! i hope it will soon make him in love with what is within it, for i know it is good,' &c. and lo! here are also store of _rare pictures_ to delight his eye with! &c., &c. then, turning him to the lord of canterbury, he said, 'let this young gentleman have your letters to the princes to-morrow, to richmond, and let him carry this present. it is a good day, you know, and a good work would be done upon it.' so he gave nicholas ferrar the book; who, carrying it to the box, took out of it a very large paper book, which was the fourth work, and laid it on the table before the king. 'for whom,' said the king, 'is this model?' 'for your majesty's eyes, if you please to honour it so much.' 'and that i will gladly do,' said the king, 'and never be weary of such sights as i know you will offer unto me.' the king having well perused the title page, beginning, 'the gospel of our lord and blessed saviour, jesus christ, in eight several languages,' &c., said unto the lords, 'you all see that one good thing produceth another. here we have more and more rarities; from print now to pen. these are fair hands, well written, and as well composed.' then replied the lord of canterbury, 'when your majesty hath seen all, you will have more and more cause to admire.' 'what!' said the king, 'is it possible we shall behold yet more rarities?' then said the bishop to nicholas ferrar, 'reach the other piece that is in the box:' and this we call the fifth work; the title being _novum testamentum, &c., in viginti quatuor linguis, &c._ the king, opening the book, said, 'better and better. this is the largest and fairest paper that ever i saw.' then, reading the title-page, he said, 'what is this? what have we here? the incomparablest book this will be, as ever eye beheld. my lords, come, look well upon it. this finished, must be the emperor of all books. it is the crown of all works. it is an admirable masterpiece. the world cannot match it. i believe you are all of my opinion.' the lords all seconded the king, and each spake his mind of it. 'i observe two things amongst others,' said the king, 'very remarkable, if not admirable. the first is, how is it possible that a young man of twenty-one years of age (for he had asked the lord of canterbury before, how old nicholas ferrar was) should ever attain to the understanding and knowledge of more languages than he is of years; and to have the courage to venture upon such an atlas work, or hercules labour. the other is also of high commendation, to see him write so many several languages, so well as these are, each in its proper character. sure so few years had been well spent, some men might think, to have attained only to the _writing_ thus fairly, of these twenty-four languages!' all the lords replied his majesty had judged right; and said, except they had seen, as they did, the young gentleman there, and the book itself, all the world should not have persuaded them to the belief of it." _ecclesiastical biography_, vol. v., pp. , . but whatever degree of credit or fame of young ferrars might suppose to have been attached to the execution of these "pieces," his emulation was not damped, nor did his industry slacken, 'till he had produced a specimen of much greater powers of book-decoration. his appetite was that of a giant; for he was not satisfied with any thing short of bringing forth a volume of such dimensions as to make the bearer of it groan beneath its weight--and the beholders of it dazzled with its lustre, and astonished at its amplitude. perhaps there is not a more curious book-anecdote upon record than the following. "charles the st, his son charles, the palsgrave, and the duke of lennox, paid a visit to the monastery of little gidding, in huntingdonshire--the abode of the ferrars."--"then, the king was pleased to go into the house, and demanded where the great book was, that he had heard was made for charles's use. it was soon brought unto him; and the _largeness_ and _weight_ of it was such that he that carried it seemed to be _well laden_. which the duke, observing, said, 'sir, one of your strongest guard will but be able to carry this book.' it being laid on the table before the king, it was told him that, though it were then fairly bound up in _purple velvet_, that the outside was not fully finished, as it should be, for the prince's use and better liking. 'well,' said the king, 'it is very well done.' so he opened the book, the prince standing at the table's end, and the palsgrave and duke on each side of the king. the king read the title page and frontispice all over very deliberately; and well viewing the form of it, how adorned with _a stately garnish of pictures, &c._, and the curiousness of the writing of it, said, 'charles, here is a book that contains excellent things. this will make you both wise and good.' then he proceeded to turn it over, leaf by leaf, and took exact notice of all in it: and it being _full of pictures of sundry mens cuts_, he could tell the palsgrave, who seemed also to be knowing in that kind, that this and this, and that and that, were of such a man's graving and invention. the prince all the while greatly eyed all things; and seemed much to be pleased with the book. the king having spent some hours in the perusal of it, and demanding many questions was occasion as, concerning the contrivement, and having received answers to all he demanded, at length said, 'it was only _a jewel for a prince_, and hoped charles would make good use of it: and i see and find, by what i have myself received formerly from this good house, that they go on daily in the prosecution of these excellent pieces. they are brave employments of their time.' the palsgrave said to the prince, 'sir, your father the king is master of the goodliest ship in the world, and i may now say you will be master of the gallantest greatest book in the world: for i never saw _such paper_ before; and believe there is no book of this largeness to be seen in christendom.' 'the paper and the book in all conditions,' said the king, 'i believe it not to be matched. here hath also in this book not wanted, you see, skill, care, nor cost.' 'it is a most admirable piece,' replied the duke of richmond. so the king, closing the book, said, 'charles, this is yours.' he replied, 'but, sir, shall i not now have it with me?' reply was made by one of the family, 'if it please your highness, the book is not _on the outside so finished_ as it is intended for you, but shall be, with all expedition, done, and you shall have it.' 'well,' said the king, 'you must content yourself for a while.'"--_ecclesiastical biography_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : in the year , was published an octavo volume, containing the lives of william lilly the astrologer, and elias ashmole the antiquary: two of the greatest _cronies_ of their day. the particulars of ashmole's life are drawn from his own _diary_, in which is detailed every thing the most minute and ridiculous; while many of the leading features in his character, and many interesting occurrences in his life, are wholly suppressed. the editor has not evinced much judgment in causing posterity to be informed when ashmole's "_great and little teeth ached, or were loose_:" when his "_neck break forth, occasioned by shaving his beard with a bad razor_" (p. ); when "_his maid's bed was on fire, but he rose quickly (thanking god) and quenched it_" (p. ); and when he "_scratched the right-side of his buttocks, &c., and applied pultices thereunto, made of white bread crums, oil of roses, and rose leaves_;" (p. --and see particularly the long and dismal entries at p. .) all this might surely have been spared, without much injury to the reputation of the sufferer. yet, in some other minute entries, we glean intelligence a little more interesting. at p. , we find that ashmole had quarrelled with his wife; and that "mr. serjeant maynard observed to the court that there were sheets of depositions on his wife's part, and not one word proved against him of using her ill, or ever giving her a bad or provoking word:" at page , we find ashmole accompanying his heraldic friend dugdale, in his "visitations" of counties; also that "his picture was drawn by le neve in his herald's coat:" loggan afterwards drew it in black lead: p. . but here again (p. ) we are gravely informed that "_his tooth, next his fore tooth in his upper jaw, was very loose, and he easily pulled it out, and that one of his middle teeth in his lower jaw, broke out while he was at dinner_." he sat (for the last time) for "a second picture to mr. ryley," p. . ashmole's intimacy with lilly was the foundation of the former's (supposed) profundity in alchemical and astrological studies. in this diary we are carefully told that "mr. jonas moore brought and acquainted him with mr. william lilly, on a friday night, on the th of november," p. . ashmole was then only years of age; and it will be readily conceived how, at this susceptible period, he listened with rapture to his master's exposition of the black art, and implicitly adopted the recipes and maxims he heard delivered. hence the pupil generally styled himself _mercuriophilus anglicus_, at the foot of most of his title-pages: and hence we find such extraordinary entries, in the foresaid diary, as the following: "this night (august , ) about one of the clock, i fell ill of a surfeit, occasioned by drinking _water after venison_. i was greatly oppressed in my stomach; and next day mr. saunders, _the astrologian_, sent me a piece of briony-root to hold in my hand; and within a quarter of an hour my stomach was freed from that great oppression," p. . "sep. , , i came to mr. john tompson's, who dwelt near dove bridge; he used a call, and had responses in a soft voice," p. . at p. is narrated the commencement of his acquaintance with the famous arise evans, a welsh prophet: whose "_echo from heaven_," &c., parts, , mo., is a work noticed by warburton, and coveted by bibliomaniacs. yet one more quack-medicine entry: "march , . i took early in the morning a good dose of elixir, and hung three spiders about my neck, and they drove my ague away--deo gratias!" p. . it seems that ashmole always punctually kept "_the astrologer's feast_;" and that he had such celebrity as a curer of certain diseases, that lord finch the chancellor "sent for him to cure him of his rheumatism. he dined there, but would not undertake the cure," p. . this was behaving with a tolerable degree of prudence and good sense. but let not the bibliomaniac imagine that it is my wish to degrade honest old elias ashmole, by the foregoing delineation of his weaknesses and follies. the ensuing entries, in the said diary, will more than counterbalance any unfavourable effect produced by its precursors; and i give them with a full conviction that they will be greedily devoured by those who have been lucky enough to make good purchases of the entire libraries of deceased characters of eminence. in his th year, ashmole "bought of mr. milbourn all his books and mathematical instruments;" and the day after (n.b. " o'clock, min. post merid.") "he bought mr. hawkins's books," p. . in the ensuing year he "agreed with mrs. backhouse, of london, for her deceased husband's books," p. . he now became so distinguished as a successful bibliomaniac that seldon and twysden sought his acquaintance; and "mr. tredescant and his wife told him that they had been long considering upon whom to bestow their _closet of curiosities_, and at last had resolved to give it unto him," p. . having by this time (a.d. ) commenced his famous work upon _the order of the garter_, he was introduced to charles ii.: kissed hands, and was appointed by the king "to make a description of his medals, and had them delivered into his hands, and _henry the viiith's closet_ assigned for his use," p. . in this same year came forth his "_way to bliss_;" to.: a work so invincibly dull that i despair of presenting the reader with any thing like entertainment even in the following heterogeneous extract: "when our natural heat, the life of this little world, is faint and gone, the body shrinks up and is defaced: but bring again heat into the parts, and likewise money into the bankrupt's coffers, and they shall be both lusty, and flourish again as much as ever they did. but how may this heat be brought again? to make few words, even as she is kept and held by due _meat_ and _motion_; for if she faint, and falleth for want of them only, then give her them, and she shall recover herself again. meat is the bait that draws her down: motion comes after, like a _gad-bee_, to prick her forward; but the work is performed in this order. first this meat, which is that fine and æthereal oyl often above-described, by the exceeding piercing swifteness, divides, scatters, and scowres away the gross and foul dregs and leavings which, for want of the tillage of heat, had overgrown in our bodies, and which was cast, like a blockish stay-fish in the way, to stay the free course of the ship of life: these flying out of all sides, abundantly pluck up all the old leavings of hair, nails, and teeth, by the roots, and drive them out before them: in the mean while, our medicine makes not onely clear way and passage for life, if she list to stir and run her wonted race (which some think enough of this matter), but also scattereth all about her due and desired meat, and first moisture to draw her forward. by which means our life, having gotten both her full strength and liveliness, and returned like the sun in summer into all our quarters, begins to work afresh as she did at first; (for being the same upon the same, she must needs do the same) knitting and binding the weak and loose joynts and sinews, watering and concocting all by good digestion; and then the idle parts like leaves shall, in this hot summer, spring and grow forth afresh, out of this new and young temper of the body: and all the whole face and shew shall be young again and flourishing," pp. , . with such a farrago of sublime nonsense were our worthy forefathers called upon to be enlightened and amused! but i lose sight of ashmole's _book-purchases_. that he gave away, as well as received, curious volumes, is authenticated by his gift of "five volumes of mr. dugdale's works to the temple library:" p. . "again: i presented the public library at oxford with three folio volumes, containing a description of the consular and imperial coins there, which i had formerly made and digested, being all fairly transcribed with my own hand," p. . but mark well: "my first boatful of books, which were carried to mrs. tredescant's, were brought back to the temple:" also, (may ) "i bought mr. john booker's study of books, and gave _l._ for them," p. . in the same year that his _order of the garter_ was published, his "good friend mr. wale sent him dr. dee's original books and papers," p. . but he yet went on buying: "nil actum reputans, dum quid superesset agendum:" for thus journalises our super-eminent bibliomaniac:--(june , ) "i bought mr. lilly's library of books of his widow, for fifty pounds," p. . in august, , ashmole went towards oxford, "to see the building prepared to receive his rarities;" and in march, , "the last load of his rarities was sent to the barge." in july, , he received a parcel of books from j.w. irnhoff, of nurembergh, among which was his _excellentium familiarum in gallia genealogia_: p. . but it is time to put an end to this unwieldly note: reserving the account of ashmole's _order of the garter_, and _theatrum chemicum_, for the ensuing one--and slightly informing the reader, of what he may probably be apprized, that our illustrious bibliomaniac bequeathed his museum of curiosities and library of books to his beloved alma mater oxoniensis--having first erected a large building for their reception. it is justly said of him, in the inscription upon his tombstone, durante musÆo ashmoleano oxon. nunquam moriturus. a summer month might be profitably passed in the ashmolean collection of books! let us not despair that a complete _catalogue raisonné_ of them may yet be given.] loren. not eight guineas--although you were about to say _fourteen_! lysand. even so. but it must have been obtained in the golden age of book-collecting? loren. it was obtained, together with an uncut copy of his _theatrum chemicum_,[ ] by my father, at the shop of a most respectable bookseller, lately living, at mews-gate, and now in pall-mall--where the choicest copies of rare and beautiful books are oftentimes to be procured, at a price much less than the extravagant ones given at book-sales. you observed it was bound in blue morocco--and by that coryphæus of book-binders, the late roger payne! [footnote : first let us say a few words of the theatrum chemicum britannicum, as it was the anterior publication. it contains a collection of ancient english poetical pieces relating to alchemy, or the "hermetique mysteries;" and was published in a neat quarto volume, in ; accompanied with a rich sprinkling of plates "cut in brass," and copious annotations, at the end, by ashmole himself. of these plates, some are precious to the antiquary; for reasons which will be given by me in another work. at present, all that need be said is that a fine tall copy of it brings a fair sum of money. i never heard of the existence of a _large paper_ impression. it went to press in july ; and on the th of january following, "the first copy of it was sold to the earl of pembroke:" see the diary, pp. - . in may, , ashmole made his first visit to the record office in the tower, to collect materials for his work of "the order of the garter." in may following, hollar accompanied the author to windsor, to take views of the castle. in the winter of , ashmole composed a "good part of the work at roe-barnes (the plague increasing)." in may, , a copy of it was presented to king charles ii.: and in june, the following year, ashmole received "his privy-seal for _l._ out of the custom of paper, which the king was pleased to bestow upon him for the same." this, it must be confessed, was a liberal remuneration. but the author's honours increased and multiplied beyond his most sanguine expectations. princes and noblemen, abroad and at home, read and admired his work; and ashmole had golden chains placed round his neck, and other superb presents from the greater part of them; one of which (from the elector of brandenburgh) is described as being "composed of ninety links, of philagreen links in great knobs, most curious work," &c. in short, such was the golden harvest which showered down upon him on all sides, on account of this splendid publication, that "he made a feast at his house in south lambeth, in honour to his benefactors of the work of the garter." i hope he had the conscience to make hollar his vice-president, or to seat him at his right hand; for this artist's _engravings_, much more than the author's composition, will immortalize the volume. yet the artist--died in penury! these particulars relating to this popular work, which it was thought might be amusing to the lover of fine books, have been faithfully extracted from the 'forementioned original and amusing diary. _the order of the garter_ was originally sold for _l._ _s._ see _clavel's catalogue_, , p. .] lysand. i observed it had a "glorious aspect," as bibliographers term it. lis. but what has become of ashmole all this while? lysand. i will only further remark of him that, if he had not suffered his mind to wander in quest of the puzzling speculations of alchemy and astrology--which he conceived himself bound to do in consequence, probably, of wearing john dee's red velvet night cap--he might have mingled a larger portion of common sense and sound practical observations in his writings. but a truce to worthy old elias. for see yonder the bibliomaniacal spirit of archbishop laud pacing your library! with one hand resting upon a folio,[ ] it points, with the other, to your favourite print of the public buildings of the university of oxford--thereby reminding us of his attachment, while living, to literature and fine books, and of his benefactions to the bodleian library. now it "looks frowningly" upon us; and, turning round, and shewing the yet reeking gash from which the life-blood flowed, it flits away-- par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima somno! [footnote : archbishop laud, who has [transcriber's note: was] beheaded in the year , had a great fondness for sumptuous decoration in dress, books, and ecclesiastical establishments; which made him suspected of a leaning towards the roman catholic religion. his life has been written by dr. heylin, in a heavy folio volume of pages; and in which we have a sufficiently prolix account of the political occurrences during laud's primacy, but rather a sparing, or indeed no, account of his private life and traits of domestic character. in lloyd's _memoirs of the sufferers_ from the year to inclusive ( , fol.) are exhibited the articles of impeachment against the archbishop; and, amongst them, are the following bibliomaniacal accusations. "art. . receiving a _bible_, with a crucifix embroidered on the cover of it by a lady. art. . a book of popish pictures, _two missals_, pontificals, and breviaries, which he made use of as a scholar. art. . his (own) admirable _book of devotion_, digested according to the ancient way of canonical hours, &c. art. . _the book of sports_, which was published first in king james his reign, before he had any power in the church; and afterward in king charles his reign, before he had the chief power in the church," &c., pp. - . but if laud's head was doomed to be severed from his body in consequence of these his bibliomaniacal frailties, what would have been said to the fine copy of one of the _salisbury primers or missals_, printed by pynson upon vellum, which once belonged to this archbishop, and is now in the library of st. john's college, oxford?! has the reader ever seen the same primate's copy of the _aldine aristophanes_, , in the same place? 'tis a glorious volume; and i think nearly equals my friend mr. heber's copy, once lord halifax's, of the same edition. of laud's benefactions to the bodleian library, the bibliographer will see ample mention made in the _catalogus librorum manuscriptorum angliæ, hiberniæ_, &c., , folio. the following, from heylin, is worth extracting: "being come near the block, he (laud) put off his doublet, &c., and seeing through the chink of the boards that some people were got under the scaffold, about the very place where the block was seated, he called to the officer for some dust to stop them, or to remove the people thence; saying, it was no part of his desire 'that his blood should fall upon the heads of the people.' never did man put off mortality with a better courage, nor look upon his bloody and malicious enemies with more christian charity." _cyprianus anglicus_; or the _life and death of laud_; , fol.; p. . in the master's library at st. john's, oxford, they shew the velvet cap which it is said laud wore at his execution; and in which the mark of the axe is sufficiently visible. the archbishop was a great benefactor to this college. mr. h. ellis, of the museum, who with myself were "quondam socii" of the same establishment, writes me, that "among what are called the king's pamphlets in the british museum, is a fragment of a tract, without title, of fifty-six pages only, imperfect; beginning, 'a briefe examination of a certaine pamphlet lately printed in scotland, and intituled _ladensium autocatacrisis_,' &c., 'the cantabarians self-conviction.' on the blank leaf prefixed, is the following remark in a hand of the time. 'this briefe examen following, was found in the archbishop's (laud?) library, wher the whole impression of these seauen sheets was found, but nether beginning nor ending more then is hearein contained. may th, .' this work, (continues mr. ellis,) which is a singular and valuable curiosity, is in fact a personal vindication of archbishop laud, not only from the slanders of the pamphlet, but from those of the times in general: and from internal evidence could have been written by no one but himself. it is in a style of writing beyond that of the ordinary productions of the day."] peace, peace, thou once "lofty spirit"--peace to thy sepulchre--always consecrated by the grateful student who has been benefited by thy bounty! perhaps laud should have been noticed a little earlier in this list of bibliomanical heroes; but, having here noticed him, i cannot refrain from observing to you that the notorious hugh peters revelled in some of the spoils of the archbishop's library; and that there are, to the best of my recollection, some curious entries on the journals of the house of commons relating to the same.[ ] [footnote : i am indebted to the same literary friend who gave me the intelligence which closes the last note, for the ensuing particulars relating to hugh peters; which are taken from the journals of the lower house: "ao. - . march . ordered, that a study of books, to the value of _l._ out of such books as are sequestered, be forthwith bestowed upon mr. peters." _journals of the house of commons_, vol. ii., p. . "ao. . april. whereas this house was formerly pleased to bestow upon mr. peters books to the value of _l._, it is this day ordered that mr. recorder, mr. whitlock, mr. hill, or two of them, do cause to be delivered to mr. peters, to the value of _l._, books out of the private and particular study of the archbishop of canterbury." _id._, vol. iii., p. . "ao. . junij. dies publicæ humiliationis. mr. peters made a large and full relation of the state of the western counties, and of the proceedings of my lord general's army, since its coming thither," &c. "whereas, formerly, books to the amount of _l._ were bestowed upon mr. peters out of the archbishop's private library, and whereas the said study is appraised at above _l._ more than the _l._, it is ordered this day that mr. peters shall have the whole study of books freely bestowed upon him." _id._ p. . "ao. . may . ordered, that all books and papers, heretofore belonging to the library of the archbishop of canterbury, and now, or lately, in the hands of mr. hugh peters, be forthwith secured." in ashmole's life, before the first volume of his antiq. of berkshire, it is said in aug. , "mr. ashmole had a commission to examine that infamous buffoon and trumpeter of rebellion, hugh peters, concerning the disposal of the pictures, jewels, &c., belonging to the royal family, which were committed chiefly to his care, and sold and dispersed over europe: which was soon brought to a conclusion by the obstinacy or ignorance of their criminal, who either would not, or was not able to, give the desired satisfaction."] lis. this is extraordinary enough. but, if i well remember, you mentioned, a short time ago, the name of braithwait as connected with that of peacham. now, as i persume [transcriber's note: presume] lorenzo has not tied down his guests to any rigid chronological rules, in their literary chit-chat, so i presume you might revert to braithwait, without being taxed with any great violation of colloquial order. lysand. nay, i am not aware of any _bookish_ anecdote concerning braithwait. he was mentioned with peacham as being a like accomplished character.[ ] some of his pieces are written upon the same subjects as were peacham's, and with great point and elegance. he seems, indeed, to have had the literary credit and moral welfare of his countrymen so much at stake that, i confess, i have a vast fondness for his lucubrations. his "_english gentlewoman_" might be reprinted with advantage. [footnote : the talents of richard braithwait do not appear to me to be so generally known and highly commended as they merit to be. his _nursery for gentry_, , to. (with his portrait in an engraved frontispiece by marshall), is written with the author's usual point and spirit; but, as i humbly conceive, is a less interesting performance than his _english gentleman_, , to. (with a frontispiece by marshall), or _english gentlewoman_, , to. (also with a frontispiece by the same artist). there is a terseness and vigour in braithwait's style which is superior to that of his contemporary, peacham; who seems to excel in a calm, easy, and graceful manner of composition. both these eminent writers are distinguished for their scholastic and gentlemanly attainments; but in the "divine art of poesy" (in which light i mean here more particularly to display the powers of braithwait) peacham has no chance of being considered even as a respectable competitor with his contemporary. mr. george ellis, in his pleasing _specimens of the early english poets_, vol. iii., p. , has selected two songs of braithwait "from a work not enumerated by wood;" calling the author, "a noted wit and poet." his fame, however, is not likely to "gather strength" from these effusions. it is from some passages in _the arcadian princesse_--a work which has been already, and more than once, referred to, but which is too dislocated and heterogeneous to recommend to a complete perusal--it is from some passages in _this_ work that i think braithwait shines with more lustre as a poet than in any to which his name is affixed. take the following miscellaneous ones, by way of specimens. they are sometimes a little faulty in rhyme and melody: but they are never lame from imbecility. ----he has the happiest wit, who has discretion to attemper it. and of all others, those the least doe erre, who in opinion are least singular. let stoicks be to opposition given, who to extreames in arguments are driven; submit thy judgment to another's will if it be good; oppose it mildly, ill. _lib._ iv., p. . strong good sense has been rarely exhibited in fewer lines than in the preceding ones. we have next a vigorously drawn character which has the frightful appellation of _uperephanos_, who still thought that th' world without him would be brought to nought: for when the dogge-starre raged, he used to cry, "no other atlas has the world but i. i am that only _hee_, supports the state; cements divisions, shuts up janus' gate; improves the publike fame, chalks out the way how princes should command, subjects obey. nought passeth my discovery, for my sense extends itself to all intelligence." &c. &c. &c. so well this story and this embleme wrought, _uperephanos_ was so humble brought, as he on earth disvalu'd nothing more, than what his vainest humour priz'd before. more wise, but lesse conceited of his wit; more pregnant, but lesse apt to humour it; more worthy, 'cause he could agnize his want; more eminent, because less arragant. in briefe, so humbly-morally divine, he was esteem'd the _non-such_ of his time. _id._, pp. , . another character, with an equally bizarre name, is drawn with the same vigour: _melixos_; such a starved one, as he had nothing left but skin and bone. the shady substance of a living man, or object of contempt wheree'er he came. yet had hee able parts, and could discourse, presse moving reasons, arguments enforce, expresse his readings with a comely grace, and prove himselfe a _consul_ in his place! _id._, p. . we have a still more highly-coloured, and indeed a terrific, as well as original, picture, in the following animated verses: next him, _uptoomos_; one more severe, ne'er purple wore in this inferiour sphere: rough and distastefull was his nature still, his life unsociable, as was his will. _eris_ and _enio_ his two pages were, his traine stern _apuneia_ us'd to beare. terrour and thunder echo'd from his tongue, though weake in judgment, in opinion strong. a fiery inflammation seiz'd his eyes, which could not well be temper'd any wise: for they were bloud-shot, and so prone to ill, as basiliske-like, where'ere they look, they kill. no laws but draco's with his humour stood, for they were writ in characters of bloud. his stomacke was distemper'd in such sort nought would digest; nor could he relish sport. his dreames were full of melancholy feare, bolts, halters, gibbets, halloo'd in his eare: fury fed nature with a little food, which, ill-concocted, did him lesser good, _id._, p. . but it is time to pause upon braithwait. whoever does not see, in these specimens, some of the most powerful rhyming couplets of the early half of the seventeenth century, if not the model of some of the verses in dryden's satirical pieces, has read both poets with ears differently constructed from those of the author of this book.] as i am permitted to be desultory in my remarks, (and, indeed, i craved this permission at the outset of them) i may here notice the publication of an excellent _catalogue of books_, in , to.; which, like its predecessor, maunsell's, helped to inflame the passions of purchasers, and to fill the coffers of booksellers. whenever you can meet with this small volume, purchase it, lisardo; if it be only for the sake of reading the spirited introduction prefixed to it.[ ] the author was a man, whoever he may chance to be, of no mean intellectual powers. but to return. [footnote : this volume, which has been rather fully described by me in the edition of more's _utopia_, vol. ii., p. , --where some specimens of the "introduction," so strongly recommended by lysander, will be found--is also noticed in the _athenæum_, vol. ii., ; where there is an excellent analysis of its contents. here, let me subjoin only one short specimen: in praise of learning, it is said: "wise and learned men are the surest stakes in the hedge of a nation or city: they are the best conservators of our liberties: the hinges on which the welfare, peace, and happiness, hang; the best public good, and only commonwealth's men. these lucubrations, meeting with a true and brave mind, can conquer men; and, with the basilisk, kill envy with a look." sign. e. . rect.] where sleep now the relics of dyson's library, which supplied that _helluo librorum_, richard smith, with "most of his rarities?"[ ] i would give something pretty considerable to have a correct list--but more to have an unmolested sight--of this library, in its original state: if it were merely to be convinced whether or not it contained a copy of the _first edition of shakespeare_, of larger dimensions, and in cleaner condition, than the one in philander's collection! [footnote : "h. dyson (says hearne) a person of a very strange, prying, and inquisitive genius, in the matter of books, as may appear from many libraries; there being books, chiefly in old english, almost in every library, that have belonged to him, with his name upon them." _peter langtoft's chronicles_, vol. i., p. xiii. this intelligence hearne gleaned from his friend mr. t. baker. we are referred by the former to the _bibl. r. smith_, p. , alias , no. , to an article, which confirms what is said of smith's "collecting most of his rarities out of the library of h. dyson." the article is thus described in bibl. smith, _ibid._; " six several catalogues of all such books, touching the state ecclesiastical as temporal of the realm of england, which were published upon several occasions, in the reigns of k. henry the viith and viiith, philip and mary, q. elizabeth, k. james, and charles i., collected by mr. h. dyson: out of whose library was gathered, by mr. smith, a great part of the rarities of this catalogue." a catalogue of the books sold in the reign of hen. vii. would be invaluable to a bibliographer! let me add, for the sake of pleasing, or rather, perhaps, tantalising my good friend mr. haleswood, that this article is immediately under one which describes "_an ancient ms. of hunting_, in vellum (wanting something) _quarto_." i hear him exclaim--"where is this treasure now to be found?" perhaps, upon the cover of a book of devotion!] i have incidentally mentioned the name of richard smith.[ ] such a bibliomaniac deserves ample notice, and the warmest commendation. ah, my lisardo! had you lived in the latter days of charles ii.--had you, by accident, fallen into the society of this indefatigable book-forager, while he pursued his book-rounds in _little britain_--could you have listened to his instructive conversation, and returned home with him to the congenial quiet and avocations of his book-room--would you, however caressed st. james's, or even smiled upon by the first duchess in the land--have cared a rush for the splendours of a court, or concentrated your best comforts in a coach drawn by six cream-coloured horses? would you not, on the contrary, have thought with this illustrious bibliomaniac, and with the sages of greece and rome before him, that "in books is wisdom, and in wisdom is happiness." [footnote : from the address to the reader, prefixed to the catalogue of richard smith's books, which was put forth by chiswel the bookseller, in may , to.--the bibliomaniac is presented with the following interesting but cramply written, particulars relating to the owner of them: "though it be needless to recommend what to all intelligent persons sufficiently commend itself, yet, perhaps, it may not be unacceptable to the ingenious to have some short account concerning _this so much celebrated, so often desired, so long expected, library_, now exposed to sale. the gentleman that collected it was a person infinitely curious and inquisitive after books; and who suffered nothing considerable to escape him, that fell within the compass of his learning; for he had not the vanity of desiring to be master of more than he knew how to use. he lived to a very great age, and spent a good part of it almost entirely in the search of books. being as constantly known every day to walk his rounds through the shops as he sat down to meals, where his great skill and experience enabled him to make choice of what was not obvious to every vulgar eye. he lived in times which ministered peculiar opportunities of meeting with books that are not every day brought into publick light; and few eminent libraries were bought where he had not the liberty to pick and choose. and while others were forming arms, and new-modelling kingdoms, _his_ great ambition was to become master of a good book. hence arose, as that vast number of his books, so the choiceness and rarity of the greatest part of them; and that of all kinds, and in all sorts of learning," &c. "nor was the owner of them a meer idle possessor of so great a treasure: for as he generally _collated_ his books upon the buying of them (upon which account the buyer may rest pretty secure of their being perfect) so he did not barely turn over the leaves, but observed the defects of impressions, and the ill arts used by many; compared the differences of editions; concerning which, and the like cases, he has entered memorable, and very useful, remarks upon very many of the books under his own hand: observations wherein, certainly, never man was more diligent and industrious. thus much was thought fit to be communicated to publick notice, by a gentleman who was intimately acquainted both with mr. smith and his books. _this excellent library will be exposed by auction, and the sale will begin on monday the th day of may next, at the auction house, known by the name of_ the swan, _in great st. bartholomew's close, and there continue, day by day, the five first days of every week, till all the books be sold._" in this catalogue of richard smith's books, the sharp-eyed bibliomaniac will discover twelve volumes printed by caxton; which collectively, produced only the sum of _l._ _s._ _d._ the price of each of these volumes has been already given to the public (_typog. antiq._, vol i., p. cxxxii.) i suppose a thousand guineas would _now_ barely secure perfect copies of them! the catalogue itself is most barbarously printed, and the arrangement and description of the volumes such as to damn the compiler "to everlasting fame." a number of the most curious, rare, and intrinsically valuable books--the very insertion of which in a bookseller's catalogue would probably now make a hundred bibliomaniacs start from their homes by star-light, in order to come in for the _first pickings_--a number of volumes of this description are huddled together in one lot, and all these classed under the provoking running title of "_bundles of books_," or "_bundles of sticht books_!" but it is time to bid adieu to this matchless collection. leaving the virtuoso "to toil, from rise to set of sun" after w. sherwin's "extra rare and fine" portrait of the collector, which will cost him hard upon ten pounds (see _sir william musgrave's catalogue of english portraits_, p. , no. ), and to seize, if it be in his power, a copy of the catalogue itself, "with the prices and purchasers' names" (vide _bibl. lort._, no. ). i proceed to attend upon lysander: not, however, without informing him that strype (_life of cranmer_, p. ), as well as hearne (_liber niger scaccarii_, vol. ii., p. ), has condescended to notice the famous library of this famous collector of books, richard smith!] lis. in truth i should have done even more than what your barren imagination has here depicted. smith's figure, his address, his conversation, his library-- loren. enough--peace! there is no end to lisardo's _fruitful_ imagination. we are surfeited with the richness of it. go on, dear lysander; but first, satisfy a desire which i just now feel to be informed of the period when _sales of books, by auction_, were introduced into this country. lysand. you take _that_ for granted which remains [transcriber's note: missing 'to' in original] be _proved_: namely, my ability to gratify you in this particular. of the precise period when this memorable revolution in the sale of books took place i have no means of being accurately informed: but i should think not anterior to the year , or ; for, in the year , to the best of my recollection, the catalogue of the library of dr. seaman was put forth; to which is prefixed an address to the reader, wherein the custom of selling books by auction is mentioned as having been but of recent origin in our country.[ ] it was, however, no sooner introduced than it caught the attention, and pleased the palates, of bibliomaniacs exceedingly: and clavel, a bookseller, who published useful catalogues of books to be sold in his own warehouse, retorted in sharp terms upon the folly and extravagance which were exhibited at book auctions. however, neither clavel nor his successors, from that period to the present, have been able to set this custom aside, nor to cool the fury of book-auction bibliomaniacs--who, to their eternal shame be it said, will sometimes, from the hot and hasty passions which are stirred up by the poisonous miasmata floating in the auction-room, give a sum twice or thrice beyond the real value of the books bidden for! indeed, i am frequently amused to see the vehemence and rapture with which a dirty little volume is contended for and embraced--while a respectable bookseller, like portius, coolly observes across the table--"i have a better copy on sale at one third of the price!" [footnote : a part of the address "to the reader," in the catalogue above-mentioned by lysander, being somewhat of a curiosity, is here reprinted in its unadulterated [transcriber's note: remainder of sentence missing in original] "reader, "it hath not been usual here in england to make _sale of books by way of auction or who will give most for them_: but it having been practised in other countreys to the advantage both of buyers and sellers, it was therefore conceived (for the encouragement of learning) to publish the sale of these books this manner of way; and it is hoped that this will not be unacceptable to schollers: and therefore, methought it convenient to give an advertisement concerning the manner of proceeding therein. _first_, that having this catalogue of the books, and their editions, under their several heads and numbers, it will be more easie for any person of quality, gentleman, or others, to depute any one to buy such books for them as they shall desire, if their occasions will not permit them to be present at the auction themselves." the _second_ clause is the usual one about _differences_ arising. the _third_, about discovering the imperfections of the copies before they are taken away. the _fourth_, that the buyers are to pay for their purchases within one month after the termination of the auction. the _fifth_, that the sale is to begin "punctually at o'clock in the morning, and two in the afternoon; and this to continue daily until all the books be sold; wherefore it is desired that the gentlemen, or those deputed by them, may be there precisely at the hours appointed, lest they should miss the opportunity of buying those books which either themselves or their friends desire." as this is the earliest auction catalogue which i have chanced to meet with, the _present_ reader may probably be pleased with the following specimens, selected almost at random of the prices which were given for books at a public sale, in the year . _in folio._ philologists. _s._ _d._ pet. heylyn's cosmographie, lond. . io. stow's annals, or chronicles of england, &c. ibid., . burton's anatomy of melancholy, oxon, . geo. withers, his emblems; illustrated with brass figures, . os. gabelhower's book called the dutch physic, dort, . p. . _in quarto._ philologie. the royal passage of her majesty, from the } tower to whitehall, lond., . } the vision of the goddesses, a mask by the } queen and her ladies, . } king james his entertainment through the city } of london, ibid. } a particular entertainment of the queen and } prince, . } the magnificent entertainment of king james, } queen anne, and prince henry frederick, . } her majesties speech to both houses of } parliament, . } _s._ _d._ vox coeli, or news from heaven, . } an experimental discovery of the spanish } practises, . } tho. scotts aphorisms of state, or secret } articles for the re-edifying the romish } church, . } the tongue combat between two english } souldiers, . } votivæ angliæ, or the desires and wishes of } england, . } a book of fishing, with hook and line, and } other instruments, . } p. . now a-days, the last article alone would pr duce [transcriber's note: produce]--shall i say _nine_ times the sum of the whole? but once more: _in octavo._ philologists. rob. crowley's confutation and answer to a } wicked ballade of the abuse of the } sacrament of the altar, . } philargyne, or covetousness of great britain, } . } a confutation of articles of nicol sharton's, } . } the voice of the last trumpet, blown by the } seventh angel, . } _s._ _d._ rob. crowley's four last things. } a petition against the oppressors of the poor } of this realm, . } a supplication of the poor commons, . } piers plowman exhortation to the parliament, } and a new-year's gift, . } the hurt of sedition to the commonwealth, . } to continue the _history of book auctions_, a little further. two years after the preceding sale, namely, in , were sold the collections of dr. manton, dr. worsley, and others. in the address to the reader, prefixed to manton's catalogue, it would seem that this was the "_fourth_ triall" of this mode of sale in our own country. the conditions and time of sale the same as the preceding; and because one briggs, and not one cooper, drew up the same, cooper craves the reader's "excuse for the mistakes that have happened; and desires that the saddle may be laid upon the right horse." in this collection there is a more plentiful sprinkling of english books; among which, dugdale's warwickshire, , was sold for _l._ _s._; and fuller's worthies for the same sum. the "collections of pamphlets, bound together in quarto," were immense. dr. worsley's collection, with two others, was sold two months afterwards; namely, in may, : and from the address "to the reader," it would appear that dr. manton's books brought such high prices as to excite the envy of the trade. worsley's collection was sold at and , the usual hours "at the house over against the hen and chickens, in pater-noster row." the venders thus justify themselves at the close of their address: "we have only this to add in behalf of ourselves; that, forasmuch as a report has been spread that we intend to use indirect means to advance the prices, we do affirm that it is a groundless and malicious suggestion of some of our own trade, envious of our undertaking: and that, to avoid all manner of suspicion of such practice, we have absolutely refused all manner of commissions that have been offered us for buying (some of them without limitation): and do declare that the company shall have nothing but candid and ingenuous dealing from john dunmore. richard chiswel." at this sale, the shakspeare of brought _s._; and of , _l._ _s._ in the november and december of the same year were sold by auction the books of voet, sangar, and others, and from the preface to each catalogue it would seem that the sale of books by auction was then but a recent, yet a very successful, experiment; and that even collections from abroad were imported, in order to be disposed of in a like manner.] lis. from what you say, it would appear to be wiser to lay out one's money at a bookseller's than at a book-auction? lysand. both methods must of necessity be resorted to: for you cannot find with the one what you may obtain at the other. a distinguished collector, such as the late mr. reed, or mr. gough, or mr. joseph windham, dies, and leaves his library to be sold by auction for the benefit of his survivors. now, in this library so bequeathed, you have the fruits of book-labour, collected for a long period, and cultivated in almost every department of literature. a thousand radii are concentrated in such a circle; for it has, probably, been the object of the collector's life to gather and to concentrate these radii. in this case, therefore, you must attend the auction; you must see how such a treasure is scattered, like the sibylline leaves, by the winds of fate. you must catch at what you want, and for what you have been a dozen years, perhaps, in the pursuit of. you will pay dearly for these favourite volumes; but you have them, and that is comfort enough; and you exclaim, as a consolation amidst all the agony and waste of time which such a contest may have cost you,--"where, at what bookseller's, are such gems now to be procured?" all this may be well enough. but if i were again to have, as i have already had, the power of directing the taste and applying the wealth of a young collector--who, on coming of age, wisely considers books of at least as much consequence as a stud of horses--i would say, go to mr. payne, or mr. evans, or mr. mackinlay, or mr. lunn, for your greek and latin classics; to mr. dulau, or mr. deboffe, for your french; to mr. carpenter, or mr. cuthell, for your english; and to mr. white for your botany and rare and curious books of almost every description. or, if you want delicious copies, in lovely binding, of works of a sumptuous character, go and drink coffee with mr. miller, of albemarle street--under the warm light of an argand lamp--amidst a blaze of morocco and russia coating, which brings to your recollection the view of the temple of the sun in the play of pizarro! you will also find, in the vender of these volumes, courteous treatment and "gentlemanly notions of men and things." again, if you wish to speculate deeply in books, or to stock a newly-discovered province with what is most excellent and popular in our own language, hire a vessel of tons' burthen, and make a contract with messrs. longman, hurst, and co., who are enabled, from their store of _quires_, which measure feet in height, by in length, and in width, to satisfy all the wants of the most craving bibliomaniacs. in opposition to this pyramid, enter the closet of mr. triphook, jun., of st. james's street--and resist, if it be in your power to resist, the purchase of those clean copies, so prettily bound, of some of our rarest pieces of black-letter renown! loren. from this digression, oblige us now by returning to our bibliomaniacal history. lysand. most willingly. but i am very glad you have given me an opportunity of speaking, as i ought to speak, of some of our most respectable booksellers, who are an ornament to the cause of the bibliomania. we left off, i think, with noticing that renowned book-collector, richard smith. let me next make honourable mention of a "_par nobile fratrum_" that ycleped are north. the "lives" of these men, with an "examen" (of "kennet's history of england"), were published by a relative (i think a grandson) of the same name; and two very amusing and valuable quarto volumes they are! from one of these lives, we learn how pleasantly the lord keeper used to make his meals upon some one entertaining law-volume or another: how he would breakfast upon _stamford_,[ ] dine upon _coke_, and sup upon _fitzherbert_, &c.; and, in truth, a most insatiable book appetite did this eminent judge possess. for, not satisfied ("and no marvel, i trow") with the foregoing lean fare, he would oftentimes regale himself with a well-served-up course of the _arts_, _sciences_, and the _belles-lettres_! [footnote : these are the words of lord keeper north's biographer: "there are of law-books, institutions of various sorts, and reports of cases (now) almost innumerable. the latter bear most the controversial law, and are read as authority such as may be quoted: and i may say the gross of law lecture lies in them. but to spend weeks and months wholly in them, is like horses in a string before a loaden waggon. they are indeed a careful sort of reading, and chiefly require common-placing, and that makes the work go on slowly. his lordship therefore used to mix some institutionary reading with them, as after a fulness of the reports in a morning, about noon, to take a repast in _stamford_, _compton_, or the lord _coke's_ pleas of the crown and jurisdiction of courts, _manwood_ of the forest law, _fitzherbert's_ natura brevium; and also to look over some of the antiquarian books, as _britton_, _bracton_, _fleta_, _fortescue_, _hengham_, _the old tenures narrationes novæ_, the old _natura brevium_, and the diversity of courts. these, at times, for change and refreshment, being books all fit to be known. and those that, as to authority, are obsoleted, go rounder off-hand, because they require little common-placing, and that only as to matter very singular and remarkable, and such as the student fancies he shall desire afterwards to recover. and, besides all this, the day afforded him room for a little history, especially of england, modern books, and controversy in print, &c. in this manner he ordered his own studies, but with excursions into _humanity_ and _arts_, beyond what may be suitable to the genius of every young student in the law." _life of lord keeper guildford_, pp. , . _north's lives_, edit. , to.] his brother, dr. john north, was a still greater _helluo librorum_; "his soul being never so staked down as in an old bookseller's shop." not content with a superficial survey of whatever he inspected, he seems to have been as intimately acquainted with all the book-selling fraternity of _little-britain_ as was his contemporary, richard smith; and to have entered into a conspiracy with robert scott[ ]--the most renowned book vender in this country, if not in europe--to deprive all bibliomaniacs of a chance of procuring rare and curious volumes, by sweeping every thing that came to market, in the shape of a book, into their own curiously-wrought and widely-spread nets. nay, even scott himself was sometimes bereft of all power, by means of the potent talisman which this learned doctor exercised--for the latter, "at one lift," would now and then sweep a whole range of shelves in scott's shop of every volume which it contained. and yet how whimsical, and, in my humble opinion, ill-founded, was dr. north's taste in matters of typography! would you believe it, lisardo, he preferred the meagre classical volumes, printed by the _gryphii_, in the italic letter, to the delicate and eye-soothing lustre of the _elzevir_ type--? [footnote : "now he began to look after books, and to lay the foundation of a competent library. he dealt with mr. robert scott, of _little-britain_, whose sister was his grandmother's woman; and, upon that acquaintance he expected, and really had from him, useful information of books and their editions. this mr. scott was, in his time, the greatest librarian in europe; for, besides his stock in england, he had warehouses in francfort, paris, and other places, and dealt by factors. after he was grown old, and much worn by multiplicity of business, he began to think of his ease and to leave off. whereupon he contracted with one mills, of st. paul's church-yard, near £ , deep, and articled not to open his shop any more. but mills, with his auctioneering, atlasses, and projects, failed, whereby poor scott lost above half his means: but he held to his contract of not opening his shop, and when he was in london (for he had a country house), passed most of his time at his house amongst the rest of his books; and his reading (for he was no mean scholar) was the chief entertainment of his time. he was not only an expert bookseller, but a very conscientious good man; and when he threw up his trade, europe had no small loss of him. our doctor, at one lift, bought of him a whole set of greek classics in folio, of the best editions. this sunk his stock at that time; but afterwards, for many years of his life, all that he could (as they say) rap or run, went the same way. but the progress was small; for such a library as he desired, compared with what the pittance of his stock would purchase, allowing many years to the gathering, was of desperate expectation. he was early sensible of a great disadvantage to him in his studies, by the not having a good library in his reach; and he used to say that a man could not be a scholar at the second-hand: meaning, that learning is to be had from the original authors, and not from any quotations, or accounts in other books, for men gather with divers views, and, according to their several capacities, often perfunctorily, and almost always imperfectly: and through such slight reading, a student may know somewhat, but not judge of either author or subject. he used to say _an old author could not be unprofitable_; for although in their proper time they had little or no esteem, yet, in after times, they served to interpret words, customs, and other matters, found obscure in other books; of which a. gellius is an apt instance. he courted, as a fond lover, all _best editions, fairest character, best bound and preserved_. if the subject was in his favour (as the classics) he cared not how many of them he had, even of the same edition, if he thought it among the best, either _better bound_, _squarer cut_, _neater covers_, or some such qualification caught him. he delighted in the small editions of the classics, by seb. gryphius; and divers of his acquaintance, meeting with any of them, bought and brought them to him, which he accepted as choice presents, although perhaps he had one or two of them before. he said that the _black italic_ character agreed with his eye sight (which he accounted but weak) better than any other print, the old elzevir not excepted, whereof the characters seemed to him more blind and confused than those of the other. continual use gives men a judgment of things comparatively, and they come to fix on that as most proper and easy which no man, upon cursory view, would determine. _his soul was never so staked down as in an old bookseller's shop_; for having (as the statutes of the college required) taken orders, he was restless till he had compassed some of that sort of furniture as he thought necessary for his profession. he was, for the most part, his own factor, and seldom or never bought by commission; which made him lose time in turning over vast numbers of books, and he was very hardly pleased at last. i have borne him company at shops for hours together, and, minding him of the time, he hath made a dozen proffers before he would quit. by this care and industry, at length, he made himself master of a very considerable library, wherein the choicest collection was _greek_." there is some smartness in the foregoing observations. the following, in a strain of equal interest, affords a lively picture of the _bookselling trade_ at the close of the th century: "it may not be amiss to step a little aside, to reflect on the vast change in the trade of books, between that time and ours. then, _little-britain_ was a plentiful and perpetual emporium of learned authors; and men went thither as to a market. this drew to the place a mighty trade; the rather because the shops were spacious, and the learned gladly resorted to them, where they seldom failed to meet with agreeable conversation. and the booksellers themselves were knowing and conversible men, with whom, for the sake of bookish knowledge, the greatest wits were pleased to converse. and we may judge the time as well spent there, as (in latter days) either in tavern or coffee-house: though the latter hath carried off the spare hours of most people. but now this emporium is vanished, and trade contracted into the hands of two or three persons, who, to make good their monopoly, ransack, not only their neighbours of the trade that are scattered about town, but all over england, aye, and beyond sea too, and send abroad their circulators, and, in that manner, get into their hands all that is valuable. the rest of the trade are content to take their refuse, with which, and the fresh scum of the press, they furnish one side of a shop, which serves for the sign of a bookseller, rather than a real one; but, instead of selling, dealing as factors, and procure what the country divines and gentry send for; of whom each hath his book factor, and, when wanting any thing, writes to his bookseller, and pays his bill. and it is wretched to consider what pickpocket work, with help of the press, these demi-booksellers make. they crack their brains to find out selling subjects, and keep hirelings in garrets, at hard meat, to write and correct by the great (qu. groat); and so puff up an octavo to a sufficient thickness, and there's six shillings current for an hour and a half's reading, and perhaps never to be read or looked upon after. one that would go higher must take his fortune at blank walls, and corners of streets, or repair to the sign of bateman, innys, and one or two more, where are best choice and better pennyworth's. i might touch other abuses, as bad paper, incorrect printing, and false advertising; all which, and worse, is to be expected, if a careful author is not at the heels of them." life of the hon. and rev. dr. john north. _north's lives_, edit. , to., p. , &c. at page , there is a curious account of the doctor's amusing himself with keeping spiders in a glass case--feeding them with bread and flies--and seeing these spiders afterwards quarrel with, and destroy, each other--"parents and offspring!"] lis. "_de gustibus_--" you know the rest. but these norths were brave bibliomaniacs! proceed, we are now advancing towards the threshold of the eighteenth century; and the nearer you come to it, the greater is the interest excited. lysand. take care that i don't conclude with the memorable catalogue-burning deed of your father! but i spare your present feelings. all hail to the noble book-spirit by which the _lives of oxford-athenians_, and the _antiquities of oxford university_, are recorded and preserved beyond the power of decay![ ] all hail to thee, old anthony a-wood! may the remembrance of thy researches, amidst thy paper and parchment documents, stored up in chests, pews, and desks, and upon which, alas! the moth was "feeding sweetly," may the remembrance of these thy laborious researches always excite sensations of gratitude towards the spirit by which they were directed! now i see thee, in imagination, with thy cautious step, and head bowing from premature decay, and solemn air, and sombre visage, with cane under the arm, pacing from library to library, through gothic quadrangles; or sauntering along the isis, in thy way to some neighbouring village, where thou wouldst recreate thyself with "pipe and pot." yes, anthony! while the _bodleian_ and _ashmolean_ collections remain--or rather as long as englishmen know how to value that species of literature by which the names and actions of their forefathers are handed down to posterity, so long shall the memory of thy laudable exertions continue unimpaired! [footnote : the name and literary labours of anthony wood are now held in general, and deservedly high, respect: and it is somewhat amusing, though not a little degrading to human nature, to reflect upon the celebrity of that man who, when living, seems to have been ridiculed by the proud and flippant, and hated by the ignorant and prejudiced, part of his academical associates. the eccentricities of wood were considered heretical; and his whims were stigmatized as vices. the common herd of observers was unable to discover, beneath his strange garb, and coarse exterior, all that acuteness of observation, and retentiveness of memory, as well as inflexible integrity, which marked the intellectual character of this wonderful man. but there is no necessity to detain and tantalize the reader by this formal train of reasoning, when a few leading features of wood's person, manners, and habits of study, &c., have been thus pleasingly described to us by hearne, in the life of him prefixed to the genuine edition of the _history and antiquities (or annals) of the university of oxford_. "he was equally regardless of envy or fame, out of his great love to truth, and therefore 'twas no wonder he took such a liberty of speech, as most other authors, out of prudence, cunning, or design, have usually declined. and indeed, as to his language, he used such words as were suitable to his profession. it is impossible to think that men, who always converse with old authors, should not learn the dialect of their acquaintance--an antiquary retains an old word, with as much religion as an old relick. and further, since our author was ignorant of the rules of conversation, it is no wonder he uses so many severe reflections, and adds so many minute passages of men's lives. i have been told that it was usual with him, for the most part, to rise about four o'clock in the morning, and to eat hardly any thing till night; when, after supper, he would go into some by-alehouse in town, or else to one in some village near, and there by himself take his _pipe and pot_," &c. "but so it is that, notwithstanding our author's great merits, he was but little regarded in the university, being observed to be more clownish than courteous, and always to go in an old antiquated dress. indeed he was a mere scholar, and consequently must expect, from the greatest number of men, disrespect; but this notwithstanding, he was always a true lover of his mother, the university, and did more for her than others care to do that have received so liberally from her towards their maintenance, and have had greater advantages of doing good than he had. yea, his affection was not at all alienated, notwithstanding his being so hardly dealt with as to be expelled; which would have broken the hearts of some. but our author was of a most noble spirit, and little regarded whatever afflictions he lay under, whilst he was conscious to himself of doing nothing but what he could answer. at length after he had, by continual drudging, worn out his body, he left this world contentedly, by a stoppage of his urine, anno domini , and was buried in the east corner of the north side of st. john's church, adjoyning to merton college, and in the wall is a small monument fixed, with these words: h.s.e. antonius wood, antiquarius. _ob. nov._ ao. , æt. ." in his person, he was of a large robust make, tall and thin, and had a sedate and thoughtful look, almost bordering upon a melancholy cast. mr. hearne says, in his _collectanea mss._, that though he was but sixty-four years of age when he died, he appeared to be above fourscore; that he used spectacles long before he had occasion for them, that he stooped much when he walked, and generally carried his stick under his arm, seldom holding it in his hand. as to the manner of his life, it was solitary and ascetic. the character which gassendus gives of peireskius, may, with propriety, be used as descriptive of mr. wood's. "as to the care of his person, cleanliness was his chief object, he desiring no superfluity or costliness, either in his habit or food. his house was furnished in the same manner as his table; and as to the ornament of his private apartment, he was quite indifferent. instead of hangings, his chamber was furnished with the prints of his particular friends, and other men of note, with vast numbers of commentaries, transcripts, letters, and papers of various kinds. his bed was of the most ordinary sort; his table loaded with papers, schedules, and other things, as was also every chair in the room. he was a man of strict sobriety, and by no means delicate in the choice of what he eat. always restrained by temperance, he never permitted the sweet allurements of luxury to overcome his prudence." such, as is here represented, was the disposition of mr. wood: of so retired a nature as seldom to desire or admit a companion at his walks or meals; so that he is said to have dined alone in his chamber for thirty years together. mr. hearne says that it was his custom to "go to the booksellers at those hours when the greater part of the university were at their dinners," &c. and at five leaves further, in a note, we find that, "when he was consulting materials for his _athenæ oxon._, he would frequently go to the booksellers, and generally give money to them, purposely to obtain titles of books from them; and 'twas observed of him that he spared no charges to make that work as compleat and perfect as possible." _hearne's coll. mss. in bodl. lib._, vol. ix., p. . the following letter, describing wood's last illness, and the disposition of his literary property, is sufficiently interesting to be here, in part, laid before the reader: it was written by mr. (afterwards bishop) tanner to dr. charlett. "honoured master, yesterday, at dinner-time, mr. wood sent for me; when i came, i found mr. martin and mr. bisse of wadham (college) with him, who had (with much ado) prevailed upon him to set about looking over his papers, so to work we went, and continued tumbling and separating some of his mss. till it was dark. we also worked upon him so far as to sign and declare that sheet of paper, which he had drawn up the day before, and called it _his will_; for fear he should not live till night. he had a very bad night of it last night, being much troubled with vomiting. this morning we three were with him again, and mr. martin bringing with him the form of a will, that had been drawn up by judge holloway, we writ his will over again, as near as we could, in form of law. he has given to the university, to be reposited in the _museum ashmol._, all his mss., not only those of his own collection, but also all others which he has in his possession, except some few of dr. langbain's miscellanea, which he is willing should go to the public library. he has also given all his printed books and pamphlets to the said musæum which are not there already. this benefaction will not, perhaps, be so much valued by the university as it ought to be, because it comes from anthony wood; but truly it is a most noble gift, his collection of mss. being invaluable, and his printed books, most of them, not to be found in town," &c. this letter is followed by other accounts yet more minute and touching, of the last mortal moments of poor old anthony! it now remains to say a few words about his literary labours. a short history of the editions of the _athenæ oxonienses_ (vide p. , ante) has already been communicated to the reader. we may here observe that his _antiquities of the university_ shared a similar fate; being garbled in a latin translation of them, which was put forth under the auspices of bishop fell: , fol., in vols. wood's own ms. was written in the english language, and lay neglected till towards the end of the th century, when the rev. mr. gutch conferred a real benefit upon all the dutiful sons of alma mater, by publishing the legitimate text of their venerable and upright historian; under the title of _the history and antiquities of the colleges and halls_, , to., with a supplemental volume by way of _appendix_, , to., containing copious indexes to the two. then followed the annals of the university at large, viz. _the history and antiquities of the university of oxford_; , to., in two volumes; the latter being divided into _two_ parts, or volumes, with copious indexes. these works, which are now getting scarce, should be in every philological, as well as topographical, collection. in order to compensate the reader for the trouble of wading through the preceding tremendous note, i here present him with a wood-cut facsimile of a copper-plate print of wood's portrait, which is prefixed to his life, , vo. if he wishes for more curious particulars respecting wood's literary labours, let him take a peep into _thomæ caii vindic. antiq. acad. oxon._: , vo., vol. i., pp. xl. xliii. _edit. hearne._ wood's study, in the ashmolean museum, is yet to be seen. it is filled with curious books, which, however, have not hitherto been catalogued with accuracy. ritson has availed himself, more successfully than any antiquary in poetry, of the book treasures in this museum. [illustration]] a very few years after the death of this distinguished character, died dr. francis bernard;[ ] a stoic in bibliography. neither beautiful binding, nor amplitude of margin, ever delighted his eye or rejoiced his heart: for he was a stiff, hard, and straight-forward reader--and learned, in literary history, beyond all his contemporaries. his collection was copious and excellent; and although the compiler of the catalogue of his books sneers at any one's having "an entire collection in physic," (by the bye, i should have told you that bernard was a _doctor of medicine_,) yet, if i forget not, there are nearly pages in this said catalogue which are thickly studded with "_libri medici_," from the folio to the duodecimo size. many very curious books are afterwards subjoined; and some precious _bijous_, in english literature, close the rear. let bernard be numbered among the most learned and eminent bibliomaniacs. [footnote : i do not know that i could produce a better recipe for the cure of those who are affected with the worst symptoms of the book-mania, in the _present day_, than by shewing them how the same symptoms, upwards of a _century ago_, were treated with ridicule and contempt by a collector of very distinguished fame, both on account of his literary talents and extensive library. the following copious extract is curious on many accounts; and i do heartily wish that foppish and tasteless collectors would give it a very serious perusal. at the same time, all collectors possessed of common sense and liberal sentiment will be pleased to see their own portraits so faithfully drawn therein. it is taken from the prefatory address, "to the reader. the character of the person whose collection this was, is so well known, that there is no occasion to say much of him, nor to any man of judgment that inspects the catalogue of the collection itself. something, however, it becomes us to say of both; and this i think may with truth and modesty enough be said, that as few men knew books, and that part of learning which is called _historia litteraria_, better than himself, so there never yet appeared in england so choice and valuable a catalogue to be thus disposed of as this before us: more especially of that sort of books which are out of the common course, which a man may make the business of his life to collect, and at last not to be able to accomplish. a considerable part of them being so little known, even to many of the learned buyers, that we have reason to apprehend this misfortune to attend the sale, that there will not be competitors enough to raise them up to their just and real value. certain it is this library contains not a few which never appeared in any auction here before; nor indeed, as i have heard him say, for ought he knew, (and he knew as well as any man living) _in any printed catalogue in the world_."--"we must confess that, being a person who collected his books for use, and not for ostentation or ornament, he seemed no more solicitous about _their_ dress than _his own_; and therefore you'll find that a _gilt back_, or a _large margin_, was very seldom any inducement to him to buy. 'twas sufficient that he had the book." "though considering that he was so unhappy as to want heirs capable of making that use of them which he had done, and that therefore they were to be dispersed after this manner; i have heard him condemn his own negligence in that particular; observing, that the garniture of a book was as apt to recommend it to a great part of our _modern collectors_ (whose learning goes not beyond the edition, the title-page, and the printer's name) as the intrinsic value could. but that he himself was not a mere nomenclator, and versed only in title-pages, but had made that just and laudable use of his books which would become all those that set up for collectors, i appeal to the literati of his acquaintance, who conversed most frequently with him; how full, how ready, and how exact he was in answering any question that was proposed to him relating to learned men, or their writings; making no secret of any thing that he knew, or any thing that he had; being naturally one of the most communicative men living, both of his knowledge and his books."--"and give me leave to say this of him, upon my own knowledge; that he never grudged his money in procuring, nor his time or labour in perusing, any book which he thought could be any ways instructive to him, and having the felicity of a memory always faithful, always officious, which never forsook him, though attacked by frequent and severe sickness, and by the worst of diseases, old age, his desire of knowledge attended him to the last; and he pursued his studies with equal vigour and application to the very extremity of his life." it remains to add a part of the title of the catalogue of the collection of this extraordinary bibilomaniac [transcriber's note: bibliomaniac]: "_a catalogue of the library of the late learned_ dr. francis bernard, _fellow of the college of physicians, and physician to st. bartholomew's hospital, &c._," , vo. the english books are comprised in articles; and, among them, the keen investigator of ancient catalogues will discover some prime rarities.] having at length reached the threshold, let us knock at the door, of the eighteenth century. what gracious figures are those which approach to salute us? they are the forms of bishops fell and more:[ ] prelates, distinguished for their never ceasing admiration of valuable and curious works. the former is better known as an editor; the latter, as a collector--and a collector, too, of such multifarious knowledge, of such vivid and just perceptions, and unabating activity--that while he may be hailed as the _father of_ =black-letter= _collectors_ in this country, he reminds us of his present successor in the same see; who is not less enamoured of rare and magnificent volumes, but of a different description, and whose library assumes a grander cast of character. [footnote : as i have already presented the public with some brief account respecting bishop fell, and sharpened the appetites of grangerites to procure rather a rare portrait of the same prelate (see _introd. to the classics_, vol. i., ), it remains only to add, in the present place, that hearne, in his _historia vitæ et regni ricardi ii._, , vo., p. , has given us a curious piece of information concerning this eminent bibliomaniac, which may not be generally known. his authority is anthony wood. from this latter we learn that, when anthony and the bishop were looking over the _history and antiquities of the university of oxford_, to correct it for the press, fell told wood that "wicliffe was a grand dissembler; a man of little conscience; and what he did, as to religion, was more out of vain glory, and to obtain unto him a name, than out of honesty--or to that effect." can such a declaration, from such a character, be credited? bishop more has a stronger claim on our attention and gratitude. never has there existed an episcopal bibliomaniac of such extraordinary talent and fame in the walk of _old english literature_!--as the reader shall presently learn. the bishop was admitted of clare hall, cambridge, in . in , he became bishop of norwich; and was translated to ely in ; but did not survive the translation above seven years. how soon and how ardently the passion for collecting books possessed him it is out of my present power to make the reader acquainted. but that more was in the zenith of his bibliomaniacal reputation while he filled the see of norwich is unquestionable; for thus writes strype: "the right reverend, the lord bishop of norwich, the possessor of a great and curious collection of mss. and other ancient printed pieces (little inferior to mss. in regard of their scarceness) hath also been very considerably assistant to me as well in this present work as in others;" &c. preface (sign. a ) to _life of aylmer_, , vo. burnet thus describes his fine library when he was bishop of ely. "this noble record was lent me by my reverend and learned brother, dr. more, bishop of ely, who has gathered together a most valuable treasure, both of printed books and manuscripts, beyond what one can think that the life and labour of one man could have compassed; and which he is as ready to communicate, as he has been careful to collect it." _hist. of the reformation_, vol. iii., p. . it seems hard to reconcile this testimony of burnet with the late mr. gough's declaration, that "the bishop collected his library by plundering those of the clergy in his diocese; some he paid with sermons or more modern books; others only with '_quid illiterati cum libris_.'" on the death of more, his library was offered to lord oxford for _l._; and how that distinguished and truly noble collector could have declined the purchase of such exquisite treasures--unless his own shelves were groaning beneath the weight of a great number of similar volumes--is difficult to account for. but a public-spirited character was not wanting to prevent the irreparable dispersion of such book-gems: and that patriotic character was george i.!--who gave _l._ for them, and presented them to the public library of the university of cambridge!-- "these are imperial works, and worthy kings!" and here, benevolent reader, the almost unrivalled _bibliotheca moriana_ yet quietly and securely reposes. well do i remember the congenial hours i spent (a.d. ) in the _closet_ holding the most precious part of bishop more's collection, with my friend the rev. mr. ----, tutor of one of the colleges in the same university, at my right-hand--(himself "greatly given to the study of books") actively engaged in promoting my views, and increasing my extracts--but withal, eyeing me sharply "ever and anon"--and entertaining a laudable distrust of a keen book-hunter from a rival university! i thank my good genius that i returned, as i entered, with clean hands! my love of truth and of bibliography compels me to add, with a sorrowful heart, that not only is there no printed catalogue of bishop more's books, but even the fine public library of the university remains unpublished in print! in this respect they really do "order things better in france." why does such indifference to the cause of general learning exist--and in the th century too? let me here presume to submit a plan to the consideration of the syndics of the press; provided they should ever feel impressed with the necessity of informing the literati, of other countries as well as our own, of the book treasures contained in the libraries of cambridge. it is simply this. let the books in the public library form the substratum of the _catalogue raisonné_ to be printed in three or more quarto volumes. if, in any particular department, there be valuable editions of a work which are _not_ in the public, but in another, library--ex. gr. in trinity, or st. john's--specify this edition in its appropriate class; and add _trin. coll., &c._--if this copy contain notes of bentley, or porson, add "_cum notis bentleii_," _&c._: so that such a catalogue would present, not only _every_ volume in the _public library_, but _every valuable_ edition of a work in the whole university. nor is the task so herculean as may be thought. the tutors of the respective colleges would, i am sure, be happy, as well as able, to contribute their proportionate share of labour towards the accomplishment of so desirable and invaluable a work.] the opening of the th century was also distinguished by the death of a bibliomaniac of the very first order and celebrity. of one, who had, no doubt, frequently discoursed largely and eloquently with luttrell, (of whom presently) upon the rarity and value of certain editions of old _ballad poetry_: and between whom presents of curious black-letter volumes were, in all probability, frequently passing. i allude to the famous samuel pepys;[ ] secretary to the admiralty. [footnote : "_the maitland collection of manuscripts_ was ever in the collector's (sir richard maitland's) family."--"his grandson was raised to the dignity of earl of lauderdale." "the duke of lauderdale, a descendant of the collector's grandson, presented the maitland collection, along with other mss., to samuel pepys, esq. secretary of the admiralty to charles ii. and james ii. mr. pepys was one of the earliest collectors of rare books, &c. in england; and the duke had no taste for such matters; so either from friendship, or some point of interest, he gave them to mr. pepys,"--who "dying may, , in his st year, ordered, by will, the pepysian library at magdalen college, cambridge, to be founded, in order to preserve his very valuable collection entire. it is undoubtedly the most curious in england, those of the british museum excepted; and is kept in excellent order." mr. pinkerton's preface, p. vii., to _ancient scottish poems from the maitland collection, &c._, , vo., vols. i wish it were in my power to add something concerning the parentage, birth, education, and pursuits of the extraordinary collector of this extraordinary collection; but no biographical work, which i have yet consulted, vouchsafes even to mention his name. his merits are cursorily noticed in the _quarterly review_, vol. iv., p. - . through the medium of a friend, i learn from sir lucas pepys, bart., that our illustrious bibliomaniac, his great uncle, was president of the royal society, and that his collection at cambridge contains a _diary_ of his life, written with his own hand. but it is high time to speak of the black-letter gems contained in the said collection. that the pepysian collection is at once choice and valuable cannot be disputed; but that access to the same is prompt and facile, is not quite so indisputable. there is a ms. catalogue of the books, by pepys himself, with a small rough drawing of a view of the interior of the library. the books are kept in their original (i think walnut-wood) presses: and cannot be examined unless in the presence of a fellow.--such is the nice order to be observed, according to the bequest, that every book must be replaced where it was taken from; and the loss of a single volume causes the collection to be confiscated, and transported to benet-college library. oh, that there were _an act of parliament_ to regulate bequests of this kind!--that the doors to knowledge might, by a greater facility of entrance, be more frequently opened by students; and that the medium between unqualified confidence and unqualified suspicion might be marked out and followed. are these things symptomatic of an iron or a brazen age! but the bibliomaniac is impatient for a glance at the 'forementioned black-letter treasures!--alas, i have promised more than i can perform! yet let him cast his eye upon the first volume of the recent edition of _evans' collection of old ballads_ (see _in limine_, p. ix.) and look into the valuable notes of _mr. todd's illustrations of gower and chaucer_,--in which latter, he will find no bad specimen of these _pepysian gems_, in the exultation of my friend, the author, over another equally respected friend--in consequence of his having discovered, among these treasures, a strange, merry, and conceited work, entitled "_old meg of herefordshire for a mayd-marian; and hereford town for a morris-daunce, &c._," , to., p. . ex uno disce omnes. the left-handed critic, or anti-black-letter reader, will put a wicked construction upon the quotation of this motto in capital letters: let him: he will repent of his folly in due time.] now it was a convincing proof to me, my dear friends, that the indulgence of a passion for books is perfectly compatible with any situation, however active and arduous. for while this illustrious bibliomaniac was sending forth his messengers to sweep every bookseller's shop from the tweed to penzance, for the discovery of old and almost unknown ballads--and while his name rung in the ears of rival collectors--he was sedulous, in his professional situation, to put the _navy of old england_ upon the most respectable footing; and is called the _father_ of that system which, carried into effect by british hearts of oak, has made the thunder of our cannon to be heard and feared on the remotest shores. nor is it a slight or common coincidence that a spirit of book-collecting, which stimulated the _secretary_ of the admiralty at the opening of the th century, should, at the close of it, have operated with equal or greater force in a _first lord_ of the same glorious department of our administration. but we shall speak more fully of this latter character, and of his matchless collection, in a future stage of our discussion. while we are looking round us at this period, we may as well slightly notice the foundation of the _blenheim library_. the duke of marlborough[ ] was resolved that no naval commander, or person connected with the navy, should eclipse himself in the splendour of book-collecting: but it was to prince eugene that marlborough was indebted for his taste in this particular; or rather the english commander was completely bitten with the bibliomaniacal disease in consequence of seeing eugene secure rare and magnificent copies of works, when a city or town was taken: and the german prince himself expatiates upon the treasures of his library, with a rapture with which none but the most thorough-bred bibliomaniacs can ever adequately sympathise. [footnote : the library at blenheim is one of the grandest rooms in europe. the serpentine sheet of water, which flows at some little distance, between high banks of luxuriant and moss-woven grass, and is seen from the interior, with an overhanging dark wood of oaks, is sufficient to awaken the finest feelings that ever animated the breast of a bibliomaniac. the books are select and curious, as well as numerous; and although they may be eclipsed, in both these particulars, by a few rival collections, yet the following specimen is no despicable proof of the ardour with which marlborough, the founder of the library, pushed forward his bibliomaniacal spirit. i am indebted to mr. edwards for this interesting list of the ancient classics printed upon vellum in the blenheim library. apoll. rhodius augustinus, _de civ. dei_ _spiræ_ a. gellius, _romæ_ aug. _de civ. dei_ _jenson_ biblia moguntina bonifacii decretalia ciceronis _rhetorica_ _jens_ ---- _epist. fam._ _spiræ_ ---- _officia_ _mogunt_ ---- ---- ---- _tuscul. ques._ _jenson_ _clementis const._ _mogunt_ ---- _fust. s.a._ durandus horatius landini ---- epist. justinian _mogunt_ lactantius _a rot_ lucian _florent_ petrarca _spira_ plinius _jenson_ quintilian _campani_ sallustius _spira_ v. maximus, s.a. virgilius _spira_ the present marquis of blandford inherits, in no small degree, the book-collecting spirit of his illustrious ancestor. he is making collections in those departments of literature in which the blenheim library is comparatively deficient; and his success has already been such as to lead us to hope for as perfect a display of volumes printed by _caxton_ as there is of those executed by foreign printers. the marquis's collection of _emblems_ is, i believe, nearly perfect: of these, there are a few elegantly printed catalogues for private distribution. lysander, above, supposes that marlborough caught the infection of the _book-disease_ from prince eugene; and the supposition is, perhaps, not very wide of the truth. the library of this great german prince, which is yet entire, (having been secured from the pillage of gallic vandalism, when a certain emperor visited a certain city) is the proudest feature in the public library at vienna. the books are in very fine old binding, and, generally of the largest dimensions. and, indeed, old england has not a little to boast of (at least, so bibliomaniacs must always think) that, from the recently published _memoirs of eugene_ ( , vo., p. ), it would appear that the prince "bought his fine editions of books at london:"--he speaks also of his "excellent french, latin, and italian works, well bound"--as if he enjoyed the "arrangment" of _them_, as much as the contemplation of his "cascades, large water-spouts, and superb basins." _ibid._ whether eugene himself was suddenly inflamed with the ardour of buying books, from some lucky spoils in the pillaging of towns--as lysander supposes--is a point which may yet admit of fair controversy. for my own part, i suspect the german commander had been straying, in his early manhood, among the fine libraries in _italy_, where he might have seen the following exquisite _bijous_-- _in st. mark's, at venice._ apuleius } aulus gellius } printed upon vellum. petrarca } _in the chapter house at padua._ ciceronis _epist. ad atticum_ _jenson_ } quintilian _jenson_ } macrobius } solinus _jenson_ } printed upon vellum. catullus } plautus } ovidii opera _bonon._ } the public is indebted to mr. edwards for the timely supply of the foregoing bibliographical intelligence.] ever ardent in his love of past learning, and not less voracious in his bibliomaniacal appetites, was the well known narcissus luttrell. nothing--if we may judge from the spirited sketch of his book character, by the able editor[ ] of dryden's works--nothing would seem to have escaped his lynx-like vigilance. let the object be what it would (especially if it related to _poetry_) let the volume be great or small, or contain good, bad, or indifferent warblings of the muse--his insatiable craving had "stomach for them all." we may consider his collection as the fountain head of those copious streams which, after fructifying the libraries of many bibliomaniacs in the first half of the eighteenth century, settled, for a while, more determinedly, in the curious book-reservoir of a mr. wynne--and hence, breaking up, and taking a different direction towards the collections of farmer, steevens, and others, they have almost lost their identity in the innumerable rivulets which now inundate the book-world. [footnote : "in this last part of his task, the editor (walter scott) has been greatly assisted by free access to a valuable collection of fugitive pieces of the reigns of charles ii., james ii., william iii., and queen anne. this curious collection was made by narcissus luttrell, esq., under whose name the editor usually quotes it. the industrious collector seems to have bought every poetical tract, of whatever merit, which was hawked through the streets in his time, marking carefully the price and date of the purchase. his collection contains the earliest editions of many of our most excellent poems, bound up, according to the order of time, with the lowest trash of grub-street. it was dispersed on mr. luttrell's death," &c. preface to _the works of john dryden_, : vol. i., p. iv. mr. james bindley and mr. richard heber are then mentioned, by the editor, as having obtained a great share of the luttrell collection, and liberally furnished him with the loan of the same, in order to the more perfect editing of dryden's works. but it is to the persevering book-spirit of mr. edward wynne, as lysander above intimates, that these notorious modern bibliomaniacs are indebted for the preservation of most of the choicest relics of the _bibliotheca luttrelliana_. mr. wynne lived at little chelsea; and built his library in a room which had the reputation of having been locke's _study_. here he used to sit, surrounded by innumerable books--a "great part being formed by an eminent and curious collector in the last century"--viz. the aforesaid narcissus luttrell. (see the title to the catalogue of his library.) his books were sold by auction in ; and, that the reader may have some faint idea of the treasures contained in the _bibliotheca wynniana_, he is presented with the following extracts: lot a parcel of pamphlets on poetry, vo. £ _s._ _d._ do. tragedies and comedies, to. and vo. do. historical and miscellaneous, to. and vo. poetical, historical, and miscellaneous, folio do. giving an account of horrid murders, storms, prodigies, tempests, witchcraft, ghosts, earthquakes, &c., _with frontispieces_ and _cuts_, to. and vo. do. historical and political, english and foreign, from to do. consisting of petitions, remonstrances, declarations, and other political matters, from to , during the great rebellion, and the whole of the protectorate: _a very large parcel, many of them with cuts_. purchased by the present marquis of bute do. of single sheets, giving an account of the various sieges in ireland in - ; and consisting likewise of elegies, old ballads, accounts of murders, storms, political squibs, &c. &c., _many of them with curious plates_, from to . purchased by the same lots - comprised a great number of "_old poetry and romances_," which were purchased by mr. baynes for _l._ _s._ lot comprehended a "_collection of old plays--gascoigne, white, windet, decker, &c._," vols.: which were sold for _l._ _s._ never, to be sure, was a precious collection of english history and poetry so wretchedly detailed to the public, in an auction catalogue! it should be noticed that a great number of poetical tracts was disposed of, previous to the sale, to dr. farmer, who gave not more than forty guineas for them. the doctor was also a determined purchaser at the sale, and i think the ingenious mr. waldron aided the illustrious commentator of shakspeare with many a choice volume. it may be worth adding that wynne was the author of an elegant work, written in the form of dialogues, entitled _eunomus_, or _discourses upon the laws of england_, vols., vo. it happened to be published at the time when sir william blackstone's _commentaries on the laws of england_ made their appearance; and, in consequence, has seen only three editions: the latter being published in , vols., vo.] why have i delayed, to the present moment, the mention of that illustrious bibliomaniac, earl pembroke? a patron of poor scholars, and a connoisseur, as well as collector, of every thing the most precious and rare in the book-way. yet was his love of _virtû_ not confined to objects in the shape of volumes, whether printed or in ms.: his knowledge of statues and coins was profound;[ ] and his collection of these, such as to have secured for him the admiration of posterity. [footnote : [illustration] the reader will find an animated eulogy on this great nobleman in walpole's _anecdotes of painters_, vol. iv., ; part of which was transcribed by joseph warton for his variorum edition of pope's works, and thence copied into the recent edition of the same by the rev. w.l. bowles. but pembroke deserved a more particular notice. exclusively of his fine statues and architectural decorations, the earl contrived to procure a great number of curious and rare books; and the testimonies of maittaire (who speaks indeed of him with a sort of rapture!) and palmer show that the productions of jenson and caxton were no strangers to his library. _annales typographici_, vol. i., . edit. . _history of printing_, p. . "there is nothing that so surely proves the pre-eminence of virtue more than the universal admiration of mankind, and the respect paid it by persons in opposite interests; and, more than this, it is a sparkling gem which even time does not destroy: it is hung up in the temple of fame, and respected for ever." _continuation of granger_, vol. i., , &c. "he raised (continues mr. noble) a collection of antiques that were unrivalled by any subject. his learning made him a fit companion for the literati. wilton will ever be a monument of his extensive knowledge; and the princely presents it contains, of the high estimation in which he was held by foreign potentates, as well as by the many monarchs he saw and served at home. he lived rather as a primitive christian; in his behaviour, meek; in his dress, plain: rather retired, conversing but little." burnet, in the _history of his own times_, has spoken of the earl with spirit and propriety. thus far the first edition of the bibliomania. from an original ms. letter of anstis to ames (in the possession of mr. john nichols) i insert the following memoranda, concerning the book celebrity of lord pembroke. "i had the book of juliana barnes (says anstis) printed at st. albans, , about hunting, which was afterwards reprinted by w. de worde at westminster, --but the earl of pembroke would not rest till he got it from me." from a letter to lewis (the biographer of caxton) by the same person, dated oct. , , anstis says that "the earl of pembroke would not suffer him to rest till he had presented it to him." he says also that "he had a later edition of the same, printed in , _on parchment_, by w. de worde, which he had given away: but he could send to the person who had it." from another letter, dated may , , this "person" turns out to be the famous john murray; to whom we are shortly to be introduced. the copy, however, is said to be "imperfect; but the st. albans book, a fair folio." in this letter, lord pembroke's library is said to hold "the greatest collection of the first books printed in england." perhaps the reader will not be displeased to be informed that in the _antiquities of glastonbury_, published by hearne, , p. lviii, there is a medal, with the reverse, of one of the earl's ancestors in queen elizabeth's time, which had escaped evelyn. it was lent to hearne by sir philip sydenham, who was at the expense of having the plate engraved.] while this nobleman was the general theme of literary praise there lived a _bibliomaniacal triumvirate_ of the names of bagford, murray, and hearne: a triumvirate, perhaps not equalled, in the mere love of book-collecting, by that which we mentioned a short time ago. at the head, and the survivor of these three,[ ] was thomas hearne; who, if i well remember, has been thus described by pope, in his dunciad, under the character of wormius: but who is he, in closet close ypent, of sober face, with learned dust besprent? right well mine eyes arede the myster wight, on parchment scraps y-fed, and wormius hight. [footnote : the former bibliomaniacal triumvirate is noticed at p. , ante. we will now discuss the merits of the above, _seriatim_. and first of john bagford, "by profession a bookseller; who frequently travelled into holland and other parts, in search of scarce books and valuable prints, and brought a vast number into this kingdom, the greater part of which were purchased by the earl of oxford. he had been in his younger days a shoemaker; and for the many curiosities wherewith he enriched the famous library of dr. john more, bishop of ely, his lordship got him admitted into the charter house. he died in , aged ; after his death, lord oxford purchased all his collections and papers for his library: these are now in the harleian collection in the british museum. in were published, in the philosophical transactions, his proposals for a general history of printing."--bowyer and nichol's _origin of printing_, pp. , , note. it has been my fortune (whether good or bad remains to be proved) not only to transcribe, and cause to be reprinted, the slender memorial of printing in the philosophical transactions, drawn up by wanley for bagford, but to wade through _forty-two_ folio volumes, in which bagford's materials for a history of printing are incorporated, in the british museum: and from these, i think i have furnished myself with a pretty correct notion of the collector of them. bagford was the most hungry and rapacious of all book and print collectors; and, in his ravages, he spared neither the most delicate nor costly specimens. he seems always to have expressed his astonishment at the most common productions; and his paper in the philosophical transactions betrays such simplicity and ignorance that one is astonished how my lord oxford, and the learned bishop of ely, could have employed so credulous a bibliographical forager. a modern collector and lover of _perfect_ copies, will witness, with shuddering, among bagford's immense collection of title-pages in the museum, the frontispieces of the complutensian polyglot, and chauncy's history of hertfordshire, torn out to illustrate a history of printing. his enthusiasm, however, carried him through a great deal of laborious toil; and he supplied in some measure, by this qualification, the want of other attainments. his whole mind was devoted to book-hunting; and his integrity and diligence probably made his employers overlook his many failings. his handwriting is scarcely legible, and his orthography is still more wretched; but if he was ignorant, he was humble, zealous, and grateful; and he has certainly done something towards the accomplishment of that desirable object, an accurate general history of printing. the preceding was inserted in the _first edition_ of this work. it is incumbent on me to say something more, and less declamatory, of so extraordinary a character; and as my sources of information are such as do not fall into the hands of the majority of readers, i trust the prolixity of what follows, appertaining to the aforesaid renowned bibliomaniac, will be pardoned--at least by the lover of curious biographical memoranda. my old friend, tom hearne, is my chief authority. in the preface to that very scarce, but rather curious than valuable, work, entitled _guil. roper vita d. thomæ mori_, , vo., we have the following brief notice of bagford: §. ix. "epistolas et orationes excipit anonymi scriptoris chronicon; quod idcirco godstovianum appellare visum est, quia in illud forte fortuna inciderim, quum, anno mdccxv. una cum joannÆ bagfordio, amico egregio ad rudera prioratûs de godstowe juxta oxoniam animi recreandi gratia, perambularem. de illo vero me prius certiorem fecerat ipse bagfordius, qui magno cum nostro moerore paullo post londini obiit, die nimirum quinto maij anno mdccxvi. quum jam annum ætatis sexagessimum quintum inplerisset, ut è litteris intelligo amici ingenio et humanitate ornati jacobei sothebeii, junioris, qui, si quis alius, è familiaribus erat bagfordii. virum enimvero ideo mihi quam maxime hâc occasione lugendum est, quod amicum probitate et modestia præditum amiserim, virumque cum primis diligentem et peritum intercidisse tam certum sit quam quod certissimum. quamvis enim artes liberales nunquam didicisset, vi tamen ingenii ductus, eruditus plane evasit; et, ut quod verum est dicam, incredibile est quam feliciter res abstrusas in historiis veteribus explicaverit, nodosque paullo difficiliores ad artis typographicæ incunabula spectantes solverit et expedierit. expertus novi quod scribo. quotiescunque enim ipsum consului (et quidem id sæpissime faciendum erat) perpetuo mihi aliter atque exspectaveram satisfecit, observationis itidem nonnunquam tales addens, quales antea neque mihi neque viris longe doctioribus in mentem venerant. quidni itaque virum magnum fuisse pronunciarem, præcipue quum nostra sententia illi soli magni sint censendi, qui recte agant, et sint vere boni et virtute præditi?"--_præf._ pp. xxi., ii. in hearne's perface [transcriber's note: preface] to _walter hemingford's_ history, bagford is again briefly introduced: "at vero in hoc genere fragmenta colligendi omnes quidem alios (quantum ego existimare possum) facile superavit joannes bagfordius, de quo apud hemingum, &c. incredibile est, quanta usus sit diligentia in laciniis veteribus coacervandis. imo in hoc labore quidem tantum versari exoptabat quantum potuit, tantum autem re vera versabatur, quantum ingenio (nam divino sane fruebatur) quantum mediocri doctrina (nam neque ingenue, neque liberaliter, unquam fuit educatus) quantum usu valuit," p. ciii. the reader here finds a reference to what is said of bagford, in the _hemingi wigornensis chartularium_; which, though copious, is really curious and entertaining, and is forthwith submitted to his consideration. "it was therefore very laudable in my friend, mr. j. bagford (who i think was born in fetter-lane, london) to employ so much of his time as he did in collecting remains of antiquity. indeed he was a man of a very surprising genius, and had his education (for he was first a shoe-maker, and afterwards for some time a book-seller) been equal to his natural genius, he would have proved a much greater man than he was. and yet, without this education, he was certainly the greatest man in the world in his way. i do not hear of any monument erected to his memory, but 'twas not without reason that a worthy gentleman, now living in london, designed the following epitaph for him: hic. sitvs. joannes. bagfordivs. antiquarivs. penitvs. britannvs. cujvs. nuda. solertia. aliorvm. vicit. operosam. diligentiam. obiit. maii. v. a.d. m.dcc.xvi. Ætatis [lxv.] viri. simplicis. et. sine. fvco. memoria. ne. periret. hunc. lapidem. posvit.... "'tis very remarkable that, in collecting, his care did not extend itself to books and to fragments of books only; but even to the very _covers_, and to _bosses_ and _clasps_; and all this that he might, with greater ease, compile the history of printing, which he had undertaken, but did not finish. in this noble work he intended a discourse about _binding books_ (in which he might have improved what i have said elsewhere about the ancient Æstels) and another about the _art of making paper_, in both which his observations were very accurate. nay, his skill _in paper_ was so exquisite that, at first view, he could tell the place where, and the time when, any paper was made, though at never so many years' distance. i well remember that, when i was reading over a famous book of collections (written by john lawerne, monk of worcester, and now preserved) in the bodleian library, mr. bagford came to me (as he would often come thither on purpose to converse with me about curiosities) and that he had no sooner seen the book, but he presently described the time when, and the place where, the paper of which it consists, was made. he was indefatigable in his searches, and was so ambitious of seeing what he had heard of, relating to his noble design, that he had made several journies into holland to see the famous books there. nor was he less thirsty after other antiquities, but, like old john stow, was for seeing himself, if possible (although he travelled on foot), what had been related to him. insomuch that i cannot doubt, but were he now living, he would have expressed a very longing desire of going to worcester, were it for no other reason but to be better satisfied about the famous monumental stones mentioned by heming (_chart, wigorn._, p. ), as he often declared a most earnest desire of walking with me (though i was diverted from going) to guy's cliff by warwick, when i was printing that most rare book called, _joannis rossi antiquarii warwicensis historia regum angliæ_. and i am apt to think that he would have shewed as hearty an inclination of going to stening in sussex, that being the place (according to asser's life of Ælfred the great) where k. ethelwulph (father of k. alfred) was buried, though others say it was at winchester," &c. "mr. bagford was as communicative as he was knowing: so that some of the chief curiosities in some of our best libraries are owing to him; for which reason it was that the late _bishop of ely_, dr. more (who received so much from him), as an instance of gratitude, procured him a place in the charter-house. i wish all places were as well bestowed. for as mr. bagford was, without all dispute, a very worthy man, so, being a despiser of money, he had not provided for the necessities of old age. he never looked upon those as true philosophers that aimed at heaping up riches, and, in that point, could never commend that otherwise great man, seneca, who had about two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling, at use in britain; the loan whereof had been thrust upon the britains, whether they would or no. he would rather extol such men as a certain rector near oxford, whose will is thus put down in writing, by richard kedermister, the last abbot but one of winchcomb (_leland collect._ vol. vi., ), in the margin of a book (i lately purchased) called _hieronymi cardinalis vitas patrum_, lugd. mcccccii. to. nihil habeo, nihil debeo, benedicamus domino. testamentum cujusdam rectoris, juxta oxoniam decedentis circiter annum salutis, ." "nor was mr. bagford versed only in our own old writers, but in those likewise of other countries, particularly the roman. his skill in that part of the roman history that immediately relates to britain is sufficiently evident from his curious letter, printed at the beginning of leland's collectanea. that he might be the better acquainted with the roman stations, and the several motions of the soldiers from one place to another, he used to pick up coins, and would, upon occasion, discourse handsomely, and very pertinently, about them; yet he would keep none, but would give them to his friends, telling them (for he was exemplarily modest and humble) that he had neither learning nor sagacity enough to explain and illustrate them, and that therefore it was more proper they should be in the possession of some able persons. he would have done any thing to retrieve a roman author, and would have given any price for so much as a single fragment (not yet discovered) of the learned commentaries, written by agrippina, mother to nero, touching the fortunes of her house, which are (as i much fear) now utterly lost, excepting the fragment or two cited out of them by pliny the elder and cornelius tacitus; as he would also have stuck at no price for a grammar _printed at tavistock_, commonly called =the long grammar=. when he went abroad he was never idle, but if he could not meet with things of a better character, he would divert himself with looking over _ballads_, and he was always mightily pleased if he met with any that were old. anthony à wood made good collections, with respect to ballads, but he was far outdone by mr. bagford. our modern ballads are, for the most part, romantic; but the old ones contain matters of fact, and were generally written by good scholars. in these old ones were couched the transactions of our great heroes: they were a sort of chronicles. so that the wise founder of new college permitted them to be sung, by the fellows of that college, upon extraordinary days. in those times, the poets thought they had done their duty when they had observed truth, and put the accounts they undertook to write, into rhythm, without extravagantly indulging their fancies. nobody knew this better than mr. bagford; for which reason he always seemed almost ravished when he happened to light upon old rhythms, though they might not, perhaps, be so properly ranged under the title of ballads," &c., pp. - . being unable to furnish a portrait of bagford (although i took some little trouble to procure one) i hope the reader--if his patience be not quite exhausted--will endeavour to console himself, in lieu thereof, with a specimen of bagford's epistolary composition; which i have faithfully copied from the original among the _sloanian mss._, no. , in the british museum. it is written to sir hans sloane. _from my lodgings_, july , . worthy sir, since you honoured me with your good company for seeing printing and card-making, i thought it my duty to explain myself to you per letter on this subject. till you had seen the whole process of card-making, i thought i could not so well represent it unto you by writing--for this i take to be the first manner of printing. in this short discouse [transcriber's note: discourse] i have explained myself when i design to treat of it in the famous subject of the art of printing. it hath been the labour of several years past, and if now i shall have assistance to midwife it into the world, i shall be well satisfied for the sake of the curious. for these years past i have spared no cost in collecting books on this subject, and likewise drafts of the effigies of our famous printers, with other designs that will be needful on this subject. if this short account of the design of the whole shall give you any satisfaction, i shall esteem my pains well bestowed. hitherto, i have met with no encouragement but from three reverend gentlemen of bennet college in cambridge, who generously, of their own accord, gave me pound each, which is all i ever received of any person whatsoever. it may indeed be imputed to my own neglect, in not acquainting the learned with my design, but modesty still keeps me silent. i hope your goodness will pardon my impertinence. i shall be ready at all times to give you any satisfaction you desire on this subject, who am, honoured sir, your most humble servant to command, jo. bagford. _for the worthy sir hans slone_ [transcriber's note: sloane]. and now it only remains to close the whole of this bagfordiana by the following unique communication. one of bagford's friends sent him this letter with the subjoined device:--"_for my lovinge friend mr. jno. bagford._--you having shewed me so many rebuses, as i was returning home, i thought of one for you--a bagge, and below that, a fourd or passable water." (_harl. ms._, no. .) [illustration] i wish it were in my power to collect information, equally acceptable with the foregoing, respecting the above-named john murray; but hearne, who was his intimate friend, has been very sparing in his anecdotes of him, having left us but a few desultory notices, written chiefly in the latin language. the earliest mention of him that i find is the following: "verum illud præcipue mentionem meretur, quod mutuo accepi, schedula una et altera jam excusa, á joanne murario londinensi, rei antiquariæ perscrutatore diligenti, cui eo nomine gratias ago." "denique subdidi descriptionem fenestrarum depictarum ecclesiæ parochialis de fairford in agro glocestriensi, è schedula quam mutuo sumpsi ab amico supra laudato johanne murrario, qui per literas etiam certiorem me fecit è codice quodam vetusto ms. fuisse extractum. neque dubito quin hic idem fuerit codex quem olim in ecclesia de fairford adservatum surripuisse nebulonem quempiam mihi significavit ecclesiæ ædituus, vir simplex, necnon ætate et scientia venerandus." præf: p. xxii. _guil. roperi vita thomæ mori_, , vo., edit. hearne. there is another slight mention of murray, by hearne, in the latter's edition of _thom. caii. vindic. antiq. acad. oxon_, vol. ii., - --where he discourses largely upon the former's copy of _rastel's pastyme of people_: a book which will be noticed by me very fully on a future occasion. at present, it may suffice to observe that a perfect copy of it is probably the rarest english book in existence. there is a curious copper plate print of murray, by vertue, in which our bibliomaniac's right arm is resting upon some books entitled "_hearne's works, sessions papers, tryals of witches_." beneath is this inscription: _hoh maister john murray of sacomb, the works of old time to collect was his pride, till oblivion dreaded his care: regardless of friends, intestate he dy'd, so the rooks and the crows were his heir._ g.n. of the above-mentioned thomas britton, i am enabled to present a very curious and interesting account, from a work published by hearne, of no very ordinary occurrence, and in the very words of hearne himself. it is quite an unique picture. "before i dismiss this subject, i must beg leave to mention, and to give a short account of, one that was intimately acquainted with mr. bagford, and was also a great man, though of but ordinary education. the person i mean is mr. thos. britton, the famous _musical small coal man_, who was born at or near higham ferrers in northamptonshire. thence he went to london, where he bound himself apprentice to a small coal man in st. john baptist's street. after he had served his full time of seven years, his master gave him a sum of money not to set up. upon this, tom went into northamptonshire again, and after he had spent his money, he returned again to london, set up the _small coal trade_ (notwithstanding his master was still living) and withall, he took a stable, and turned it into a house, which stood the next door to the little gate of st. john's of jerusalem, next clerkenwell green. some time after he had settled here, he became acquainted with dr. garenciers, his near neighbour, by which means he became an excellent chymist, and perhaps, he performed such things in that profession, as had never been done before, with little cost and charge, by the help of a moving elaboratory, that was contrived and built by himself, which was much admired by all of that faculty that happened to see it; insomuch that a certain gentleman in wales was so much taken with it that he was at the expense of carrying him down into that country, on purpose to build him such another, which tom performed to the gentleman's very great satisfaction, and for the same he received of him a very handsome and generous gratuity. besides his great skill in chymistry, he was as famous for his knowledge in the _theory of music_; in the practical part of which faculty he was likewise very considerable. he was so much addicted to it that he pricked with his own hand (very neatly and accurately), and left behind him, a valuable collection of music, mostly pricked by himself, which was sold upon his death for near a hundred pounds. not to mention the excellent collection of printed books, that he also left behind him, both of chemistry and music. besides these books that he left behind him, he had, some years before his death, sold by auction a _noble collection of books_, most of them in the _rosacrucian faculty_ (of which he was a great admirer): whereof there is a printed catalogue extant (as there is of those that were sold after his death), which i have often looked over with no small surprize and wonder, and particularly for the great number of mss. in the before mentioned faculties that are specified in it. he had, moreover, a considerable collection of musical instruments, which were sold for fourscore pounds upon his death, which happened in september , being upwards of threescore years of age; and (he) lyes buried in the church-yard of clerkenwell, without monument or inscription: being attended to his grave, in a very solemn and decent manner, by a great concourse of people, especially of such as frequented the musical club, that was kept up for many years at his own charges (he being a man of a very generous and liberal spirit) at his own little cell. he appears by the print of him (done since his death) to have been a man of an ingenuous countenance and of a sprightly temper. it also represents him as a comely person, as indeed he was; and withal, there is a modesty expressed in it every way agreeable to him. under it are these verses, which may serve instead of an epitaph: tho' mean thy rank, yet in thy humble cell did gentle peace and arts unpurchas'd dwell; well pleas'd apollo thither led his train, and music warbled in her sweetest strain. cyllenius, so, as fables tell, and jove, came willing guests to poor philemon's grove. let useless pomp behold, and blush to find so low a station, such a liberal mind. in short, he was an extraordinary and very valuable man, much admired by the gentry; even those of the best quality, and by all others of the more inferior rank, that had any manner of regard for probity, sagacity, diligence, and humility. i say humility, because, though he was so much famed for his knowledge, and might, therefore, have lived very reputably without his trade, yet he continued it to his death, not thinking it to be at all beneath him. mr. bagford and he used frequently to converse together, and when they met _they seldom parted very soon_. their conversation was very often about old mss. and the havock made of them. they both agreed to retrieve what fragments of antiquity they could, and, upon that occasion, they would frequently divert themselves in talking of old chronicles, which both loved to read, though, among our more late chronicles printed in english, isaackson's was what they chiefly preferred for a general knowledge of things; a book which was much esteemed also by those two eminent chronologers, bishop lloyd and mr. dodwell. by the way, i cannot but observe that isaackson's chronicle is really, for the most part, bishop andrews's; isaackson being amanuensis to the bishop." _hemingi chartular. eccles. wigornien._, vol. ii., - , edit. hearne. see also, _robert of glocester's chronicle_, vol. i., p. lxxii. we will close our account of this perfectly _unique_ bibliomaniac by subjoining the title of the _catalogue of his books_; for which i am indebted to the ever-active and friendly assistance of mr. heber. the volume is so rare that the late mr. reed told mr. h. he had never seen another copy: but another has recently been sold, and is now in the curious collection of mr. r. baker. "the library of mr. thomas britton, small-coal man, deceas'd: who, at his own charge, kept up a concort of musick above years, in his little cottage. being a curious collection of every ancient and uncommon book in divinity, history, physick, chemistry, magick, &c. also a collection of mss. chiefly on vellum. _which will be sold by auction at paul's coffee house, &c., the th day of january, - , at five in the evening._ by thomas ballard, esq., vo., p. . containing articles in folio-- in to.-- in octavo-- pamphlets--and mss." a few of the works, in octavo, were sufficiently amatory. the third and last character above mentioned, as making this illustrious bibliomaniacal triumvirate complete, is thomas hearne. that pope, in the verses which lysander has quoted, meant this distinguished antiquary seems hardly to be questioned; and one wonders at the jesuitical note of warburton, in striving to blow the fumes of the poet's satire into a different direction. they must settle upon poor hearne's head: for wanley's antiquarian talents were equally beyond the touch of satire and the criticism of the satirist. warton has, accordingly, admitted that hearne was represented under the character of wormius; and he defends the character of hearne very justly against the censures of pope. his eulogy will be presently submitted to the reader. gibbon, in his _posthumous works_, vol. ii., , has aimed a deadly blow at the literary reputation of hearne; and an admirer of this critic and historian, as well as an excellent judge of antiquarian pursuits, has followed up gibbon's mode of attack in a yet more merciless manner. he calls him "thomas hearne, of black-letter memory, _carbone notandus_"--"a weaker man (says he) never existed, as his prefaces, so called, lamentably show." he continues in this hard-hearted strain: but i have too much humanity to make further extracts. he admits, however, the utility of most of hearne's publications--"of which he was forced to publish a few copies, at an extravagant subscription." the remarks of this (anonymous) writer, upon the neglect of the cultivation of english history, and upon the want of valuable editions of our old historians, are but too just, and cannot be too attentively perused. see _gentleman's magazine_, vol. , pt. , - (a.d. ). thus far in deterioration of poor hearne's literary fame. let us now listen to writers of a more courteous strain of observation. prefixed to tanner's _bibliotheca britannico-hibernica_, there is a preface, of which dr. wilkins is the reputed author. the whole of hearne's publications are herein somewhat minutely criticised, and their merits and demerits slightly discussed. it is difficult to collect the critic's summary opinion upon hearne's editorial labours; but he concludes thus: "quia autem leporis est mortuis insultare leonibus, cineres celeberrimi hujus et olim mihi amicissimi viri turbare, neutiquam in animum inducere possum," p. xlvii. mr. gough, in his _british topography_, vol. ii., p. , calls hearne an "acute observer;" but, unluckily, the subject to which the reader's attention is here directed discovers our antiquary to have been in error. j. warton, in the passage before alluded to, observes: "in consideration of the many very accurate and very elegant editions which hearne published of our valuable old chronicles, which shed such a light on english history, he (hearne) ought not to have been so severely lashed as in these bitter lines," (quoted in the text, p. , ante) _pope's works_, edit. bowles; vol. v., . let the reader consult also dr. pegge's _anonymiana_, in the passages referred to, in the truly valuable index attached to it, concerning hearne. thus much, i submit, may be fairly said of our antiquary's labours. that the greater part of them are truly useful, and absolutely necessary for a philological library, must on all sides be admitted. i will mention only the _chronicles of langtoft and robert of gloucester_; _adam de domerham, de rebus glastoniensibus_; _gulielmus neubrigensis_; _forduni scotichronicon_; and all his volumes appertaining to _regal biography_:--these are, surely, publications of no mean importance. hearne's prefaces and appendices are gossiping enough; sometimes, however, they repay the labour of perusal by curious and unlooked-for intelligence. yet it must be allowed that no literary cook ever enriched his dishes with such little piquant sauce, as did hearne: i speak only of their _intrinsic_ value, for they had a very respectable exterior--what winstanley says of ogilvey's publications being, applicable enough to hearne's;--they were printed on "special good paper, and in a very good letter." we will now say a few words relative to hearne's habits of study and living--taken from his own testimony. in the preface prefixed to _roper's life of sir thomas more_, p. xix. (edit. ), he describes himself "as leading the life of an ascetic." in the preface to the _annals of dunstable priory_, his bibliographical diligence is evinced by his saying he had "turned over every volume in the bodleian library." in one of his prefaces (to which i am not able just now to refer) he declares that he was born--like our british tars--"for action:" and indeed his activity was sufficiently demonstrated; for sometimes he would set about transcribing for the press papers which had just been put into his hands. thus, in the _antiquities of glastonbury_, p. , he writes, "the two following old evidences were lent me _to-day_ by my friend the hon. benedict leonard calvert, esq." his excessive regard to fidelity of transcription is, among many other evidences that may be brought forward, attested in the following passage: "have taken particular care (saith mr. harcourt, in his letter to me from aukenvyke, sep. , ) in the copying; well knowing your exactness." _benedict abbas_, vol ii., . but this servility of transcription was frequently the cause of multiplying, by propagating, errors. if hearne had seen the word "faith" thus disjointed--"fay the"--he would have adhered to this error, for "faythe." as indeed he has committed a similar one, in the _battle of agincourt_, in the appendix to thomas de elmham: for he writes "breth reneverichone"--instead of "brethren everichone"--as mr. evans has properly printed it, in his recent edition of his father's _collection of old ballads_, vol. ii., . but this may be thought trifling. it is certainly not here meant to justify capriciousness of copying; but surely an obvious corruption of reading may be restored to its genuine state: unless, indeed, we are resolved to consider antiquity and perfection as synonymous terms. but there are some traits in hearne's character which must make us forgive and forget this blind adherence to the errors of antiquity. he was so warm a lover of every thing in the shape of a book that, in the preface to _alured of beverley_, pp. v. vi., he says that he jumped almost out of his skin for joy, on reading a certain ms. which thomas rawlinson sent to him ("vix credi potest qua voluptate, qua animi alacritate, perlegerim," &c.). similar feelings possessed him on a like occasion: "when the pious author (of the _antiquities of glastonbury_) first put it (the ms.) into my hands, i read it over with as much delight as i have done anything whatsoever upon the subject of antiquity, and i was earnest with him to print it," p. lxxviii. hearne's horror of book-devastations is expressed upon a variety of occasions: and what will reconcile him to a great portion of _modern_ readers--and especially of those who condescend to read this account of him--his attachment to the black-letter was marvelously enthusiastic! witness his pathetic appeal to the english nation, in the th section of his preface to _robert of gloucester's chronicle_, where he almost predicts the extinction of "right good" literature, on the disappearance of the _black-letter_! and here let us draw towards the close of these hearneana, by contemplating a wood-cut portrait of this illustrious bibliomaniac; concerning whose life and works the reader should peruse the well-known volumes published at oxford in , vo.: containing the biographical memoirs of leland, bale, hearne, and wood. [illustration: obiit mdccxxxv: Ætatis suÆ lvii. _deut. xxxii: . remember the days of old._] the library of hearne was sold in february, , by osborne the book-seller; "the lowest price being marked in each book." the title-page informs us of what all bibliomaniacs will be disposed to admit the truth, that the collection contained "a very great variety of uncommon books, and scarce ever to be met withal," &c. there is, at bottom, a small wretched portrait of hearne, with this well known couplet subjoined: pox on't quoth _time_ to _thomas hearne_, whatever i _forget_ you learn. let the modern collector of chronicles turn his eye towards the th page of this catalogue--nos. , --and see what "compleat and very fair" copies of these treasures were incorporated in hearne's extensive library!] a little volume of book chit-chat might be written upon the marvellous discovesies [transcriber's note: discoveries] and voluminous compilations of bagford and hearne: and to these, we may add another _unique_ bibliomaniac, who will go down to posterity under the distinguished, and truly enviable, title of "_the musical small-coal man_;" i mean, master thomas britton. yes, lisardo; while we give to the foregoing characters their full share of merit and praise; we admit that bagford's personal activity and manual labour have hardly been equalled--while we allow john murray to have looked with sharper eyes after black-letter volumes than almost any of his predecessors or successors--while we grant thomas hearne a considerable portion of scholarship, an inflexible integrity, as well as indefatigable industry, and that his works are generally interesting, both from the artless style in which they are composed, and the intrinstic utility of the greater part of them, yet let our admiration be [transcriber's note: superfluous 'be'] "be screwed to its sticking place," when we think upon the wonderous genius of the aforesaid thomas britton; who, in the midst of his coal cellars, could practise upon "fiddle and flute," or collate his curious volumes; and throwing away, with the agility of a harlequin, his sombre suit of business-cloths, could put on his velvet coat and bag-wig, and receive his concert visitors, at the stair-head, with the politeness of a lord of the bedchamber! loren. in truth, a marvellous hero was this _small-coal man_! have you many such characters to notice? lysand. not many of exactly the same stamp. indeed, i suspect that hearne, from his love of magnifying the simple into the marvellous, has a little caricatured the picture. but murray seems to have been a quiet unaffected character; passionately addicted to old books of whatever kind they chanced to be; and, in particular, most enthusiastically devoted to a certain old english chronicle, entitled _rastell's pastime of (the) people_. phil. i observed a notification of the re-appearance of this chronicle in some of the magazines or reviews: but i hope, for the benefit of general readers, the orthography will be modernized. loren. i hope, for the sake of consistency with former similar publications,[ ] the ancient garb will not be thrown aside. it would be like--what dr. johnson accuses pope of having committed--"clothing homer with ovidian graces." [footnote : the ancient chonicles of the history of our country are in a progressive state of being creditably reprinted, with a strict adherence to the old phraseology. of these chronicles, the following have already made their appearance: holinshed, , to., vols.; hall, , to.; grafton, , to., vols.; fabian, , to. this latter is not a mere reprint of the first edition of fabian, but has, at the bottom, the various readings of the subsequent impressions. the index is copious and valuable. indeed, all these re-impressions have good indexes. the public will hear, with pleasure, that arnold, harding, and lord berners' translation of froissard, and rastell, are about to bring up the rear of these popular chroniclers.] lysand. much may be said on both sides of the question. but why are we about to make learned dissertations upon the old english chronicles? lis. proceed, and leave the old chroniclers to settle the matter themselves. who is the next bibliomaniac deserving of particular commendation? lysand. as we have sometimes classed our bibliomaniacs in tribes, let me now make you acquainted with another _trio_, of like renown in the book-way: i mean anstis, lewis, and ames. of these in their turn. anstis[ ] stands deservedly the first in the list; for he was, in every respect, a man of thorough benevolent character, as well as a writer of taste and research. i do not know of any particulars connected with his library that merit a distinct recital; but he is introduced here from his connection with the two latter bibliographers. lewis[ ] is known to us, both as a topographer and bibliographical antiquary. his _life of caxton_ has been reprinted with additions and corrections; and, in particular, his edition of _wicliffe's new testament_ has been recently put forth by the rev. mr. baber, in a handsome quarto volume, with valuable emendations. lewis was a sharp censurer of hearne, and was somewhat jealous of the typographical reputation of ames. but his integrity and moral character, as well as his love of rare and curious books, has secured for him a durable reputation. of ames, and here--though a little out of order--i may add herbert--the public has already heard probably "more than enough." they were both, undoubtedly, men of extraordinary mental vigour and bodily activity in the darling pursuit which they cultivated.[ ] indeed, herbert deserves high commendation; for while he was rearing, with his own hands, a lofty pyramid of typographical fame, he seems to have been unconscious of his merits; and, possessing the most natural and diffident character imaginable, he was always conjuring up supposed cases of vanity and arrogance, which had no foundation whatever but in the reveries of a timid imagination. his _typographical antiquities_ are a mass of useful, but occasionally uninteresting, information. they are as a vast plain, wherein the traveller sees nothing, immediately, which is beautiful or inviting; few roses, or cowslips, or daisies; but let him persevere, and walk only a little way onward, and he will find, in many a shelter'd recess, "flowers of all hue," and herbs of all qualities: so that fragrance and salubrity are not wanting in this said plain, which has been thus depicted in a style so marvellously metaphorical! [footnote : the reader will be pleased to consult the account of earl pembroke, p. , ante, where he will find a few traits of the bibliomaniacal character of anstis. he is here informed, from the same authority, that when anstis "acquainted bagford that he would find in rymer a commission granted to caxton, appointing him ambassador to the duchess of burgundy, he (bagford) was transported with joy." of hearne he thus speaks: "i am ashamed that mr. hearne hath made so many mistakes about the translation of _boetius, printed at tavistock_; which book i had, and gave it to the duke of bedford." but in another letter (to lewis) anstis says, "i lent this book to one mr. ryder, who used me scurvily, by presenting it, without my knowledge, to the duke of bedford." there are some curious particulars in this letter about the abbey of tavistock. anstis's _order of the garter_ is a valuable book; and will one day, i prognosticate, retrieve the indifferent credit it now receives in the book-market. the author loved rare and curious volumes dearly; and was, moreover, both liberal and prompt in his communications. the reader will draw his own conclusions on anstis's comparative merit with lewis and ames, when he reaches the end of the second note after the present one.] [footnote : concerning the rev. john lewis, i am enabled to lay before the reader some particulars now published for the first time, and of a nature by no means uninteresting to the lovers of literary anecdote. his printed works, and his bibliographical character, together with his conduct towards ames, have been already sufficiently described to the public: _typographical antiquities_, vol. i., - . and first, the aforesaid reader and lovers may peruse the following extract from an original letter by lewis to ames: "i have no other design, in being so free with you, than to serve you, by doing all i can to promote your credit and reputation. i take it, that good sense and judgment, attended with care and accuracy in making and sorting a collection, suits every one's palate: and that they must have none at all who are delighted with trifles and play things fit only for fools and children: such, for the most part, as thomas hearne dished out for his chaps, among whom i was so silly as to rank myself." again, to the same person, he thus makes mention of lord oxford and hearne: "i can truly say i never took ill any thing which you have written to me: but heartily wish you well to succeed in the execution of your projects. i han't sense to see, by the death of lord oxford, how much more you are likely to make your account better. but time will shew. i don't understand what you mean by his having a love to surprize people with his vast communications. dr. r(awlinson, qu.?) tells me he knew nobody who had so free a use of his lordship's rarities as t. hearne, a sure proof of the exactness and solidity of his lordship's judgment. but hearne answered, perhaps, his lordship's design of making the world have a very great opinion of his collections, and setting an inestimable value on them. and this hearne attempted; but his daubing is, i think, too coarse, and the smoke of his incense troublesome and suffocating." but it is to the loan of a copy of lewis's folio edition of the _history of the translations of the bible_, belonging to my friend mr. g.v. neunburg, that i am indebted for the following further, and more interesting, particulars. this valuable copy, illustrated with some rare prints, and charged with numerous ms. memoranda, contains some original letters to lewis by the famous dr. white kennet, bishop of peterborough: from which these extracts are taken. "jan. , - . dear sir; i thank you for your kind acceptance of the advice to my clergy: well meant, i pray god well applied. i have wisht long to see your _life of wiclif_, and shall now impatiently expect it. i am not surprised that a man of dignity, near you, should be jealous of publishing an impartial account of that good old evangelical author, &c. i have a mighty veneration for wicliff, and am the more angry with mr. russell for deceiving the world in his promise of the bible, after proposals given and money taken. but he has in other respects behaved so very basely that, forgiving him, i have done with him for ever. i would not have you discouraged, by an ungrateful world, or by a sharp bookseller. go on, and serve truth and peace what you can, and god prosper your labours." signed "wh. peterbor." "feb. , - . you perceive your own unhappiness in not being able to attend the press. i cannot but importune you to revise the whole, to throw the additions and corrections into their proper places, to desire all your friends and correspondents to suggest any amendments, or any new matter; in order to publish a new correct edition that will be a classic in our history, &c.--if the booksellers object against a second edition till the full disposal of the first, i hope we may buy them off with subscription for a new impression; wherein my name should stand for six copies, and better example i hope would be given by more able friends. i pray god bless your labours and reward them." several letters follow, in which this amiable prelate and learned antiquary sends lewis a good deal of valuable information for his proposed second edition of the life of wicliffe; but which was never put to press. one more extract only from the bishop of peterborough, and we bid farewell to the rev. john lewis: a very respectable bibliomaniac. "rev. sir; in respect to you and your good services to the church and our holy religion, i think fit to acquaint you that, in the _weekly journal_, published this day, oct. ( ), by _mr. mist_, there is a scandalous advertisement subscribed m. earbury, beginning thus: 'whereas a pretended _vindication of john wickliffe_ has been published under the name of one lewis of margate, by the incitement, as the preface asserts, of the archbishop of canterbury, and in the same i am injuriously reflected upon as a scurrilous writer, this is to inform the public that i shall reserve the author for a more serious whipping in my leisure hours, and in the meantime give him a short correction for his benefit, if he has grace and sense to take it'--and ending thus--'why does this author persuade the world the late archbishop of canterbury could have any veneration for the memory of one who asserts god ought to obey the devil; or that he could be desirous to open the impure fountains from whence the filth of bangorianism has been conveyed to us? m. earbury." "i confess (proceeds the bishop) i don't know that, in the worst of causes, there has appeared a more ignorant, insolent, and abandoned writer than this matth. earbury. whether you are to answer, or not to answer, the f. according to his folly, i must leave to your discretion. yet i cannot but wish you would revise the life of wickliffe; and, in the preface, justly complain of the spiteful injuries done to his memory, and, through his sides, to our reformation. i have somewhat to say to you on that head, if you think to resume it. i am, in the mean time, your affectionate friend and brother, wh. petesbor."] [footnote : it is unnecessary for me to add any thing here to the copious details respecting these eminent bibliomaniacs, ames and herbert, which have already been presented to the public in the first volume of the new edition of the _typographical antiquities_ of our own country. see also p. , ante; and the note respecting the late george steevens, post.] by mentioning herbert in the present place, i have a little inverted the order of my narrative. a crowd of distinguished bibliomaniacs, in fancy's eye, is thronging around me, and demanding a satisfactory memorial of their deeds. loren. be not dismayed, lysander. if any one, in particular, looks "frowningly" upon you, leave him to me, and he shall have ample satisfaction. lysand. i wish, indeed, you would rid me of a few of these book-madmen. for, look yonder, what a commanding attitude thomas baker[ ] assumes! [footnote : thomas baker was a learned antiquary in most things respecting _typography_ and _bibliography_; and seems to have had considerable influence with that distinguished corps, composed of hearne, bagford, middleton, anstis, and ames, &c. his life has been written by the rev. robert masters, camb., , vo.; and from the "catalogue of forty-two folio volumes of ms. collections by mr. baker"--given to the library of st. john's college, cambridge--which the biographer has printed at the end of the volume--there is surely sufficient evidence to warrant us in concluding that the above-mentioned thomas baker was no ordinary bibliomaniac. to hearne in particular (and indeed to almost every respectable author who applied to him) he was kind and communicative; hence he is frequently named by the former in terms of the most respectful admiration: thus--"vir amicissimus, educatus optime, emendatus vitâ, doctrinâ clarus, moribus singularis et perjucundus, exemplum antiquitatis, cujus judicio plurimum esse tribuendum mecum fatebuntur litterati:" _vita mori_, p. xviii. in his preface to the _antiquities of glastonbury_, p. cxxx., hearne calls him "that great man;" and again, in his _walter hemingford_, vol. i., p. xvii.--"amicus eruditissimus, mihi summe colendus; is nempe, qui è scriniis suis mss. tam multa meam in gratiam deprompsit." indeed, hearne had good occasion to speak well of the treasures of baker's "_scrinia_;" as the appendix to his _thomas de elmham_ alone testifies. of baker's abilities and private worth, we have the testimonies of middleton (_origin of printing_, p. ) and warburton. the latter thus mentions him: "good old mr. baker, of st john's college, has indeed, been very obliging. the people of st. john's almost adore the man." _masters's life of baker_, p. . this authority also informs us that "mr. baker had, for many years before his death, been almost a recluse, and seldom went farther than the college walks, unless to a coffee-house in an evening, after chapel, where he commonly spent an hour with great chearfulness, conversing with a select number of his friends and acquaintance upon literary subjects," p. . every thing the most amiable, and, i had almost said, enviable, is here said of the virtues of his head and heart; and that this venerable bibliomaniac should have reached his th year is at least a demonstration that tarrying amongst folios and octavos, from morn till night (which baker used to do, in st. john's library, for nearly years together), does not unstring the nerves, or dry up the juices, of the human frame. yet a little further extension of this note, gentle reader, and then we bid adieu to thomas baker, of ever respectable book-memory. among the mss., once the property of herbert, which i purchased at the late sale of mr. gough's mss., i obtained a volume full of extracts from original letters between baker and ames; containing also the _will_ of the former, which is not inserted in master's life of him, nor in the _biographia britannica_. the original documents are in his majesty's library, and were bought at the sale of mr. tutet's books, a.d. ; no. . from this will, as herbert has copied it, the reader is presented with the following strong proofs of the bibliomaniacal "ruling passion, strong in death," of our illustrious antiquary. but let us not omit the manly tone of piety with which this will commences. "in the name of god, amen! i, thomas baker, ejected fellow of st. john's college, cambridge, do make my last will and testament, as follows: first, i commend my soul into the hands of almighty god (my most gracious and good god), my faithful creator and merciful redeemer, and, in all my dangers and difficulties, a most constant protector. blessed for ever be his holy name." "as to the temporal goods which it hath pleased the same good god to bestow upon me (such as all men ought to be content with) and are, i bless god, neither poverty nor riches--i dispose of them in the following manner." here follow a few of his book bequests, which may be worth the attention of those whose pursuits lead them to a particular examination of these authors. "whereas i have made a deed of gift or sale for one guinea, of volumes in folio, of my own hand-writing, to the right honourable edward earl of oxford, i confirm and ratify that gift by this my last will. and i beg his lordship's acceptance of 'em, being sensible that they are of little use or value, with two other volumes in fol., markt vol. , , since convey'd to him in like manner. to my dear cosin, george baker, of crook, esq., i leave the _life of cardinal wolsey_, noted with my own hand, _lord clarendon's history_, with cuts and prints; and _winwood's memorials_, in three volumes, fol., with a five pound (jacobus) piece of gold, only as a mark of respect and affection, since he does not want it. to my worthy kinsman and friend mr. george smith, i leave _godwin de præsulibus angliæ_, and _warræus de præsulibus hibernia_, both noted with my own hand. to st. john's college library i leave all such books, printed or mss., as i have and are wanting there: excepting that i leave in trust to my worthy friend, dr. middleton, for the university library, _archbishop wake's state of the church_, noted and improved under his own hand; _bp. burnet's history of the reformation_, in three volumes, noted in my hand; and _bp. kennett's register and chronicle_ (for the memory of which three great prelates, my honoured friends, i must always have due regard). to these i add mr. ansty's, my worthy friend, _history of the garter_, in two vols., fol. _wood's athenæ oxon._; and _maunsell's catalogue_; both noted with my own hand--and _gunton's and patrick's history of the church of peterburgh_, noted (from bishop kennett) in my hand; with fifteen volumes (more or less) in fol., all in my own hand; and three volumes in to., part in my own hand." let us conclude in a yet more exalted strain of christian piety than we began. "lastly, i constitute and appoint my dear nephew, richard burton, esq., my sole executor, to whom i leave every thing undisposed of, which i hope will be enough to reward his trouble. may god almighty bless him, and give him all the engaging qualities of his father, all the vertues of his mother, and none of the sins or failings of his uncle, which god knows are great and many:--and humbly, o my god, i call for mercy! in testimony of this my will, i have hereunto set my hand and seal, this th day of october, . tho. baker. and now, o my god, into thy hands i contentedly resign myself: whether it be to life or death, thy will be done! long life i have not desired (and yet thou hast given it me). give me, if it be thy good pleasure, an easy and happy death. or if it shall please thee to visit me sorely, as my sins have deserved, give me patience to bear thy correction, and let me always say (even with my dying breath) thy will be done, amen, amen." subjoined was this curious memorandum: "at the making of this will, i have, in the corner of my outer study, next my chamber, guineas; and on the other side of the study towards the river, guineas, more or less, in several canvass bags, behind the shelves, being more secret and hidden, to prevent purloyning. one or more of the shelves markt g. among the latter is a five pound (jacobus) piece of gold."] loren. never fear. he is an old acquaintance of mine; for, when resident at st. john's, cambridge, i was frequently in the habit of conversing with his spirit in the library, and of getting curious information relating to choice and precious volumes, which had escaped the sagacity of his predecessors, and of which i fear his successors have not made the most proper use. phil. this is drawing too severe a conclusion. but baker merits the thanks of a book-loving posterity. lysand. he is satisfied with this mention of his labours; for see, he retreats--and theobald[ ] and tom rawlinson rush forward to claim a more marked attention: although i am not much disposed to draw a highly finished picture of the editor of shakespeare. [footnote : notwithstanding pope has called theobald by an epithet which i have too much respect for the ears of my readers to repeat, i do not scruple to rank the latter in the list of bibliomaniacs. we have nothing here to do with his edition of shakspeare; which, by the bye, was no despicable effort of editorial skill--as some of his notes, yet preserved in the recent editions of our bard, testify--but we may fairly allow theobald to have been a lover of caxtonian lore, as his curious extract in _mist's journal_, march , , from our old printer's edition of virgil's Æneid, , sufficiently testifies. while his gothic library, composed in part of "caxton, wynkyn, and de lyra," proves that he had something of the genuine blood of bibliomaniacism running in his veins. see mr. bowles's edition of _pope's works_, vol. v., , .] lis. is thomas rawlinson[ ] so particularly deserving of commendation, as a bibliomaniac? [footnote : let us, first of all, hear hearne discourse rapturously of the bibliomaniacal reputation of t. rawlinson: "in his fuit amicus noster nuperus thomas rawlinsonus; cujus peritiam in supellectile libraria, animique magnitudinem, nemo fere hominum eruditorum unquam attigit, quod tamen vix agnoscet seculum ingratum. quanquam non desunt, qui putent, ipsius memoriæ statuam deberi, idque etiam ad sumptus bibliopolarum, quorum facultates mire auxerat; quorum tamen aliqui (utcunque de illis optime meritus fuisset) quum librorum rawlinsoni auctio fieret, pro virili (clandestinò tamen) laborabant, ut minus auspicatò venderentur. quod videntes probi aliquot, qui rem omuem noverant, clamitabant, ô homines scelestos! hos jam oportet in cruciatum hinc abripi! quod hæc notem, non est cur vitio vertas. nam nil pol falsi dixi, mi lector. quo tempore vixit rawlinsonus (et quidem perquam jucundum est commemorare), magna et laudabilis erat æmulatio inter viros eruditos, aliosque etiam, in libris perquirendis ac comparandis, imo in fragmentis quoque. adeo ut domicilia, ubi venales id genus res pretiosæ prostabant, hominum coetu frequenti semper complerentur, in magnum profecto commodum eorum, ad quos libri aliæque res illæ pertinebant; quippe quod emptores parvo ære nunquam, aut rarissime, compararent." _walter hemingford, præfat._, p. civ. in his preface to _alured de beverly_, pp. v. vi., the copious stores of rawlinson's library, and the prompt kindness of the possessor himself, are emphatically mentioned; while in the preface to _titi livii foro-juliensis vit. henrici v._, p. xi., we are told, of the former, that it was "plurimis libris rarissimis referta:" and, in truth, such a "bibliotheca refertissima" was perhaps never before beheld. rawlinson was introduced into the tatler, under the name tom folio. his own house not being large enough, he hired _london house_, in aldersgate street, for the reception of his library; and there he used to regale himself with the sight and the scent of innumerable black letter volumes, arranged in "sable garb," and stowed perhaps "three deep," from the bottom to the top of his house. he died in ; and catalogues of his books for sale continued, for nine succeeding years, to meet the public eye. the following is, perhaps, as correct a list of these copious and heterogeneously compiled catalogues, as can be presented to the reader. i am indebted to the library of mr. heber for such a curious bibliographical morçeau. i. _a catalogue of choice and valuable books in most faculties and languages; being part of the collection made by thomas rawlinson, esq._, which will begin to be sold by auction at paul's coffee house, the west-end of st. paul's, th dec., , beginning every evening at , by thomas ballard, bookseller, at the rising sun, little britain. mo. price s. pages.----ii. _a catalogue_, &c., being the nd part of the collection by t. rawlinson, esq., to be sold by auction at paul's coffee-house, th march, - , every evening at , by t. ballard. mo. price s., paged on from the last, pp. to . [these two parts contain together vo. lots; in to., in folio.]----iii. _a catalogue_, &c., being the third part of the collection by t. rawlinson, esq., to be sold by auction at paul's coffee-house, th oct., , every evening at , by t. ballard. mo. price s. (no paging or printer's letter.)----iv. _a catalogue_, &c., being the th part of the collection by t. rawlinson, esq., to be sold by auction at paul's coffee-house, nd april, , every evening at , by t. ballard, mo. price s. (no paging or printer's letter.)----v. & vi. _a catalogue_, &c., being the th part of the collection by t. rawlinson, esq., to be sold by auction at paul's coffee-house, th jan. , every evening at , by t. ballard. mo. price s. altho' this vol. seems to have been the last of only one sale--yet it may be collected, from the concurrent testimony of his notes in more copies than one--that it was divided and sold at two different times; the latter part commencing about the middle of the volume, with the _libri theologici_. in folio.--test. nov. , being the first article. this collection began to be sold in feb. . [ ?]--vii. _a catalogue_, &c., being the th part of the collection made by t. rawlinson, esq., _deceased_, which will begin to be sold by auction at london-house, in aldersgate street, nd march, , every evening at , by charles davis, bookseller. mo. price _s._ _d._ (no paging--printer's mark at bottom irregularly continued from to .)--viii. _bibliotheca rawlinsoniana_, being a cat. of part the val. libr. of tho. rawlinson, esq., deceased: which will begin to be sold by auction at the bedford coffee-house, in the great piazza, covent garden, the th of this present april [ ] every evening at , by charles davis, bookseller. vo. price _d._ ( days' sale-- lots.)----ix. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, &c., pars_ ix. being a cat. of part of the libr. of th. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, th oct., , every evening at , by t. ballard. vo. price _s._ ( days' sale, lots.)----x. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, &c., pars altera_, being a cat. of part of lib. of th. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, d nov., , every evening at , by th. ballard. vo. price _s._ ( days' sale, articles.)----xi. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, pars altera_, being a catalogue of part of the library of t. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, d jan. - , every evening, saturdays excepted, at . vo. price _s._ ( days' sale, lots.)----xii. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, pars altera_, being a cat. of part of the library of th. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, th march, - , every evening at , by t. ballard. price _s._ ( vo. days' sale, lots.)----xiii. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, pars altera_, being a cat. of part of the library of th. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, st april, , every evening at , by t. ballard. price _s._ ( vo. days' sale, lots.)----xiv. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, pars altera_, being a cat. of part of the library of t. rawlinson, esq., deceased, to be sold by auction at st. paul's coffee-house, nov. , every evening at , by t. ballard. price _s._ ( vo. days' sale, lots.)----xv. _bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ, pars altera_, being a cat. of part of the library of t. rawlinson, f.r.s., deceased, to be sold by auction th nov., , at st. paul's coffee-house, every evening at , by tho. ballard. price _s._ ( vo. days' sale, lots.)----xvi. _codicum manuscriptorum bibliothecæ rawlinsonianæ catalogus--cum appendice impressorum_--to be sold th march, - , at st. paul's coffee-house, every night at , by t. ballard. price _s._ ( vo., days' sale, mss. lots--appendix ). to these may be added, _picturæ rawlinsonianæ_--being the collection of original paintings of t. rawlinson, esq., f.r.s., by the best masters--part of which were formerly the earl of craven's collection. to be sold by auction, at the two golden balls, in hart street, covent garden, th april, , at . vo. ( lots.) now let any man, in his sober senses, imagine what must have been the number of volumes contained in the library of the above-named thomas rawlinson? does he imagine that the tomes in the bodleian, vatican, and british museum were, in each single collection, more numerous than those in the _aldersgate street_ repository?--or, at any rate, would not a view of this aldersgate street collection give him the completest idea of the _ne plus ultra_ of book-phrensy in a private collector? rawlinson would have cut a very splendid figure, indeed, with posterity, if some judicious catalogue-maker, the paterson of former times, had consolidated all these straggling _bibliothecal_ corps into one compact wedge-like phalanx. or, in other words, if one thick octavo volume, containing a tolerably well classed arrangement of his library, had descended to us--oh, then we should all have been better able to appreciate the extraordinary treasures of such a collection! the genius of pearson and crofts would have done homage to the towering spirit of rawlinson.] lysand. if the most unabating activity and an insatiable appetite--if an eye, in regard to books, keen and sparkling as the ocean-bathed star--if a purse, heavily laden and inexhaustible--if store-rooms rivalled only by the present warehouses of the east-india company--if a disposition to spread far and wide the influence of the bibliomania, by issuing a _carte blanche_ for every desperately smitten antiquary to enter, and partake of the benefits of, his library--be criteria of book-phrensy--why then the resemblance of this said tom rawlinson ought to form a principal ornament in the capital of that gigantic column, which sustains the temple of book fame! he was the _tom folio_ of the tatler, and may be called the _leviathan_ of book-collectors during nearly the first thirty years of the eighteenth century. lis. i suppose, then, that bagford, murray, and hearne, were not unknown to this towering bibliomaniac? lysand. on the contrary, i conclude, for certain, that, if they did not drink wine, they constantly drank coffee, together: one of the huge folio volumes of bleau's atlas serving them for a table. but see yonder the rough rude features of humphrey wanley[ ] peering above the crowd! all hail to thy honest physiognomy--for thou wert a rare _book-wight_ in thy way! and as long as the fame of thy patron harley shall live, so long, honest humphrey, dost thou stand a sure chance of living "for aye," in the memory of all worthy bibliomaniacs. [footnote : lysander is well warranted in borrowing the pencil of jan steen, in the above bold and striking portrait of wanley: who was, i believe, as honest a man, and as learned a librarian, as ever sat down to morning chocolate in velvet slippers. there is a portrait of him in oil in the british museum, and another similar one in the bodleian library--from which latter it is evident, on the slightest observation, that the inestimable, i ought to say immortal, founder of the _cow pox system_ (my ever respected and sincere friend, dr. jenner) had not then made known the blessings resulting from the vaccine operation: for poor wanley's face is absolutely _peppered_ with _variolous_ indentations! yet he seems to have been a hale and hearty man, in spite of the merciless inroads made upon his visage; for his cheeks are full, his hair is cropt and curly, and his shoulders have a breadth which shew that the unrolling of the harleian mss. did not produce any enervating effluvia or mismata [transcriber's note: miasmata]. our poet, gay, in his epistle to pope, _ep._ , thus hits off his countenance: o wanley, whence com'st thou with _shorten'd hair_, and _visage_, from thy shelves, _with_ dust besprent? but let us hear the testimony of a friend and fellow bibliomaniac, called thomas hearne. the following desultory information is translated from the preface to the _annales prioratûs de dunstable_--wherein, by the bye, there is a good deal of pleasant information relating to wanley. we are here told that wanley was "born at coventry; and, in his younger days, employed his leisure hours in turning over ancient mss., and imitating the several hands in which they were written. lloyd, bishop of litchfield and coventry, in one of his episcopal visitations, was the first who noticed and patronized him. he demanded that wanley should be brought to him; he examined him "suis ipsius, non alterius, oculis;" and ascertained whether what so many respectable people had said of his talents was true or false--'a few words with you, young man,' said the bishop. wanley approached with timidity--'what are your pursuits, and where are the ancient mss. which you have in your possession?' wanley answered readily; exhibited his mss., and entered into a minute discussion respecting the ancient method of painting." hearne then expatiates feelingly upon the excessive care and attention which wanley devoted to ancient mss.; how many pieces of vellum he unrolled; and how, sometimes, in the midst of very urgent business, he would lose no opportunity of cultivating what was useful and agreeable in his particular pursuit. his hobby horse seems to have been the discovery of the ancient method of colouring or painting--yet towards british history and antiquities he constantly cast a fond and faithful eye. how admirably well-calculated he was for filling the situation of librarian to lord oxford is abundantly evinced by his catalogue of the harleian mss.; vide p. , ante. of his attachment to the bibliomania there are innumerable proofs. take this, _inter alia_; "i spoke to mr. wanley, who is not unmindful of his promise, but says he will not trouble you with a letter, till he has something better to present you, which he doubts not he shall have this winter _among mr. harley's mss._ mr. wanley has the greatest collection of _english bibles, psalters, &c._, that ever any one man had. they cost him above _l._, and he has been above twenty years in collecting them. he would part with them, i believe, but i know not at what price." _masters's life of baker_, p. . consult also the preface to the _catalogue of the harleian mss._, , vols., folio, p. .] a softer noise succeeds; and the group becomes calm and attentive, as if some grand personage were advancing. see, 'tis harley, earl of oxford![ ] [footnote : there was an amusing little volume, printed in , vo., concerning the library of the late king of france; and an equally interesting one might have been composed concerning the harleian collection--but who can now undertake the task?--who concentrate all the rivulets which have run from this splendid reservoir into other similar pieces of water? the undertaking is impracticable. we have nothing, therefore, i fear, left us but to sit down and weep; to hang our harps upon the neighbouring willows, and to think upon the book "sion," with desponding sensations that its foundations have been broken up, and its wealth dissipated. but let us adopt a less flowery style of communication. before harley was created a peer, his library was fixed at wimple, in cambridgeshire, the usual place of his residence; "whence he frequently visited his friends at cambridge, and in particular mr. baker, for whom he always testified the highest regard. this nobleman's attachment to literature, the indefatigable pains he took, and the large sums he expended in making the above collection, are too well known to stand in need of any further notice." _masters's life of baker_, p. . the eulogies of maittaire and hearne confirm every thing here advanced by masters; and the testimony of pope himself, that harley "left behind him one of the finest libraries in europe," warrants us, if other testimonies were not even yet daily before our eyes, to draw the same conclusion. in a periodical publication entitled _the director_, to which i contributed all the intelligence under the article "bibliographiana," there appeared the following copious, and, it is presumed, not uninteresting, details respecting the earl of oxford, and his library. after the sale of mr. bridges's books, no event occurred in the bibliographical world, worthy of notice, till the sale of the famous _harleian library_, or the books once in the possession of the celebrated harley, earl of oxford. this nobleman was not less distinguished in the political than in the literary world; and "was a remarkable instance of the fickleness of popular opinion, and the danger of being removed from the lower to the upper house of parliament." (noble's _continuation of granger_, vol. ii., .) he was born in the year , was summoned to the house of lords by the titles of earl of oxford and mortimer, in ; declared minister and lord high treasurer in the same year; resigned, and was impeached, in the year ; acquitted, without being brought to a trial, in ; and died at his house in albemarle street, in . a character so well known in the annals of this country needs no particular illustration in the present place. the _harleian collection of mss._ was purchased by government for , _l._, and is now deposited in the british museum (vide p. , ante). the _books_ were disposed of to thomas osborne, of gray's inn, bookseller;--to the irreparable loss, and, i had almost said, the indelible disgrace, of the country. it is, indeed, for ever to be lamented that a collection so extensive, so various, so magnificent, and intrinsically valuable, should have become the property of one who necessarily, from his situation in life, became a purchaser, only that he might be a vender, of the volumes. osborne gave , _l._ for the collection; a sum which must excite the astonishment of the present age, when it is informed that lord oxford gave , _l._ for the _binding_ only, of the least part of them. (from oldys's _interleaved langbaine_. see brydges's _cens. literar._, vol. i., p. .) in the year - appeared an account of this collection, under the following title, _catalogus bibliothecæ harleianæ, &c._, in four volumes (the th not properly appertaining to it). dr. johnson was employed by osborne to write the preface, which, says boswell, "he has done with an ability that cannot fail to impress all his readers with admiration of his philological attainments." _life of johnson_, vol. i., , edit. to. in my humble apprehension, the preface is unworthy of the doctor: it contains a few general philological reflections, expressed in a style sufficiently stately, but is divested of bibliographical anecdote and interesting intelligence. the first two volumes are written in latin by johnson; the third and fourth volumes, which are a repetition of the two former, are composed in english by oldys: and, notwithstanding its defects, it is the best catalogue of a large library of which we can boast. it should be in every good collection. to the volumes was prefixed the following advertisement: "as the curiosity of spectators, before the sale, may produce disorder in the disposition of the books, it is necessary to advertise the public that there will be no admission into the library before the day of sale, which will be on tuesday, the th of february, ." it seems that osborne had charged the sum of _s._ to each of his first two volumes, which was represented by the booksellers "as an avaricious innovation;" and, in a paper published in "_the champion_," they, or their mercenaries, reasoned so justly as to allege that "if osborne could afford a very large price for the library, he might therefore afford to _give away_ the catalogue." _preface to_ vol. iii., p. . to this charge osborne answered that his catalogue was drawn up with great pains, and at a heavy expense; but, to obviate all objections, "those," says he, "who have paid five shillings a volume shall be allowed, at any time within three months after the day of sale, either to return them in exchange for books, or to send them back, and receive their money." this, it must be confessed, was sufficiently liberal. osborne was also accused of _rating his books at too high a price_: to this the following was his reply, or rather dr. johnson's; for the style of the doctor is sufficiently manifest: "if, therefore, i have set a high value upon books--if i have vainly imagined literature to be more fashionable than it really is, or idly hoped to revive a taste well nigh extinguished, i know not why i should be persecuted with clamour and invective, since i shall only suffer by my mistake, and be obliged to keep those books which i was in hopes of selling."--_preface to the d volume._ the fact is that osborne's charges were extremely moderate; and the sale of the books was so very slow that johnson assured boswell "there was not much gained by the bargain." whoever inspects osborne's catalogue of (four years after the harleian sale), will find in it many of the most valuable of lord oxford's books; and, among them, a copy of the aldine plato of , _struck off upon vellum_, marked at _l._ only: for this identical copy lord oxford gave guineas, as dr. mead informed dr. askew; from the latter of whose collections it was purchased by dr. hunter, and is now in the hunter museum. there will also be found, in osborne's catalogues of and , some of the scarcest books in english literature, marked at , or , or _s._, for which three times the number of _pounds_ is now given. analysis of the harleian library. i shall take the liberty of making an arrangement of the books different from that which appears in the harleian catalogue; but shall scrupulously adhere to the number of departments therein specified. and first of those in . _divinity._ in the _greek_, _latin_, _french_, and _italian_ languages, there were about theological volumes. among these, the most rare and curious were bamler's bible of , beautifully illuminated, in volumes: schæffer's bible of . the famous zurich bible of , "all of which, except a small part done by theodoras bibliander, was translated from the hebrew by a jew, who styled himself leo judæ, or the lion of judah. the greek books were translated by petrus cholinus. the new testament is erasmus's." the scrutinium scripturarum of rabbi samuel, mant., ; a book which is said "to have been concealed by the jews nearly years: the author of it is supposed to have lived at a period not much later than the destruction of jerusalem." the islandic bible of , "not to be met with, without the utmost difficulty, and therefore a real curiosity." the works of hemmerlin, basil: ; "the author was ranked in the first class of those whose works were condemned by the church of rome." the mozarabic missal printed at toledo, in --of which some account is given at p. , ante. the collection of _english_ books in divinity could not have amounted to less than volumes. among the rarest of these, printed in the fifteenth century, was "the festyvall, begynning at the fyrst sonday of advent, in worship of god and all his sayntes," &c., printed at paris, in . there was ten books printed by caxton, and some exceedingly curious ones by wynkyn de worde and pynson. . _history and antiquities._ there appear to have been, on the whole, nearly volumes in this department: of which, some of those relating to great britain were inestimable, from the quantity of ms. notes by sir william dugdale, archbishop parker, thomas rawlinson, thomas baker, &c. the preceding number includes relating to the history and antiquities of italy; to those of france. (this part of the catalogue deserves particular attention, as it contains a larger collection of pieces relating to the history of france than was, perhaps, ever exposed to sale in this nation; here being not only the ancient chronicles and general histories, but the memoirs of particular men, and the genealogies of most of the families illustrious for their antiquity. see _bibl. harl._, vol. iii., p. .) to those of spain; and about relating to germany and the united provinces. . _books of prints, sculpture, and drawings._ in this department, rich beyond description, there could not have been fewer than , articles, on the smallest computation: of which nearly were original drawings by the great italian and flemish masters. the works of callot were preserved in large volumes, containing not fewer than _nine hundred and twelve prints_. "all choice impressions, and making the completest set of his works that are to be seen." see _bibl. harl._, vol. iii., no. , "hollar's works, consisting of all his pieces, and bound in folio volumes, in morocco. one of the completest and best sets in the world, both as to the number and goodness of the impressions." vid. _ibid._, no. . it is now in the library of the duke of rutland. "one hundred and thirty-three heads of illustrious men and women, after vandyke. this set of vandyke's heads may be said to be the best and completest that is to be met with any where: there being the heads which he etched himself, as likewise worked off by martin vanden enden: and what adds still to the value of them is that the greater part were collected by the celebrated marriette at paris, his name being signed on the back, as warranting them good proofs." tne [transcriber's note: the] engravings from raphael's paintings, upwards of in number, and by the best foreign masters, were contained in splendid morocco volumes. the works of the sadelers, containing upwards of prints, in large folio volumes, were also in this magnificent collection: and the albert durers, goltziuses, rembrandts, &c., innumerable! . _collection of portraits._ this magnificent collection, uniformly bound in large folio volumes, contained a series of heads of illustrious and remarkable characters, to the amount of nearly , in number. it is said, in the catalogue, to be "perhaps the largest collection of heads ever exposed to sale." we are also informed that it "was thought proper, for the accommodation of the curious, to separate the volumes." eheu! eheu! . _philosophy, chemistry, medicine, &c._ under this head, comprehending anatomy, astronomy, mathematics, and alchemy, there appear to have been not fewer than volumes in the foreign languages, and about in the english: some of them of the most curious kind, and of the rarest occurrence. . _geography, chronology, and general history._ there were about volumes on these subjects, written in the latin, french, italian, and spanish languages: and about volumes in our own language. some of the scarcest books printed by caxton were among the latter. . _voyages and histories relating to the east and west indies._ about volumes:--nearly equally divided into the english and foreign languages. among the english, were caxton's "recuyell of the historys of troye," (supposed to be the first book printed in this country;) and his "siege and conquest of jherusalem," . . _civil, canon, and statute law._ at least volumes: in the foreign languages, and the remaining in english. . _books of sculpture, architecture, &c._ not fewer than volumes, comprehending every thing published up to that period which was valuable or rare. of these, more than were written in latin, italian, french, or spanish--and embellished with every beauty of graphic illustration. . _greek and latin classics; grammars and lexicons._ this very valuable body of grecian and roman literature could not have included fewer than volumes--and, among these, almost every work of rarity and excellence. in the article of "cicero" alone, there were volumes printed in the _fifteenth century_; every subsequent edition of that and other authors, then distinguished for its accuracy or erudition, may also, i believe, be discovered in the catalogue. most book-collectors know the sumptuous manner in which the harleian copies are bound. . _books printed upon vellum._ in this interesting department of typography, there were about volumes--upwards of in folio, in quarto, and in octavo. of the former, the most curious and rare articles were the mentz bible of , vols., and the travels of breydenbachus, printed at mentz in . "this book is an uncommon object of curiosity, as it is, perhaps, the first book of travels that was ever printed, and is adorned with maps and pictures very remarkable. the view of _venice_ is more than five feet long, and the map of the _holy land_ more than three; there are views of many other cities. it is printed in the gothic character." see _bibl. harl._, vol. iii., no. . the octavos were chiefly "heures à l'usage," so common at the beginning of the th century: but, if the catalogue be correctly published, there appears to have been one of these books printed at paris, as early as the year , "extremely beautiful cuts." see the _bibl. harl._, vol. iv., no. . now, if this were true, it would make known a curious fact in parisian typography--for the usually received opinion among bibliographers is that no printed book appeared in france before the year , when the art was first introduced at _tours_; and none at _paris_ before the year - --when crantz and friburger were engaged to print there. . _english poetry, romances, and novels._ there could not have been fewer than volumes in this amusing department; and among them some editions of the rarest occurrence. every thing printed by caxton on these subjects, including a complete and magnificent copy of _morte d'arthur_, was in the collection--and, in respect to other curious works, it will be sufficient to mention only the following, as a specimen. "kynge-richarde cuer du lyon, w. de worde, : gascoigne's poesies, --spenser's shepheardes calenders, : webbe's discourse of english poetrie, : nash's art of english poesie, ." some of these volumes were afterwards marked by osborne, in his catalogues, at or shillings! . _livres françois, ital., et hispan._ there might have been volumes in these foreign languages, of which nearly related to _poetry_ (exclusively of others in the foregoing and following departments). . _parliamentary affairs and trials._ upwards of volumes. . _trade and commerce._ about volumes. it will be seen from the preceding divisions, and from the gradual diminution of the number of volumes in each, that i have gone through the principal departments of the harleian collection of books: and yet there remain _fifty departments_ to be enumerated! these are the following: . _critici et opera collecta._ . _vultus et imagines illust. virorum._ . _pompæ, ceremoniæ, et exequiæ._ . _de re militari, de arte equestri, et de re navali._ . _heraldica._ . _epistolæ, panegyrici, et orationes._ . _bibliothecarii et miscellanei._ . _tractatus pacis et politici._ . _traductions des auteurs gr. et latin._ . _translations from greek and latin authors._ . _laws, customs, &c., of the city of london._ . _military, naval affairs, and horsemanship._ . _heraldry._ . [transcriber's note: .] _husbandry, gardening, agriculture._ . _magic, sorcery, witchcraft._ . _miraculous, monstrous, and supernatural._ . _lives of eminent persons._ . _laws and customs of divers places._ . _tythes, sacrilege, and non-residence, &c._ . _cases of divers persons._ . _prisons and prisoners._ . _lives of murderers, highwaymen, pirates, &c._ . _speeches of persons executed for divers offences._ . _justices, juries, and charges._ . _poor, and charitable uses._ . _matrimony, divorce, &c._ . _universities._ . _allegiance, supremacy, non resistance, &c._ . _bank and bankers._ . _funds, taxes, public credit, money, coin, &c._ . _war and standing armies._ . _admiralty and navy._ . _letters on various subjects._ . _treatises of peace, royal prerogative, &c._ . _navigation._ . _education, grammar and schools._ . _ludicrous, entertaining, satirical, and witty._ . _english miscellanies._ . _ecclesiastical and civil history of scotland._ . _do. of ireland._ . _grammars and dictionnaries._ . _plays, and relating to the theatre._ . _mathematics._ . _astrology, astronomy, and chymistry._ . _horsemanship._ . _cookery._ . _convocation._ . _sieges, battles, war, &c._ . _pomp and ceremony._ . _books relating to writing and printing._ . _essays on various subjects._ it will probably be no very unreasonable computation to allow to each of these remaining divisions volumes: so that multiplying the whole divisions by there will be the additional number of volumes to make the library complete. i ought to mention that, in my account of this extensive library, i have not included the _pamphlets_. of these alone, according to mr. gough (_brit. topog._ v., i., ), there were computed to be , ! we will now say a few words about the private character of lord oxford, and conclude with a brief account of osborne. every body has heard of the intimacy which subsisted between pope and the earl of oxford. in the year , when the latter was at his country seat, pope sent him a copy of parnell's poems (of which he had undertaken the publication on the decease of parnell), with a letter in poetry and prose. it seems that pope wished to prefix his own verses to the collection; and thus alludes to them, in his letter to lord harley of the date of : "poor parnell, before he died, left me the charge of publishing those few remains of his: i have a strong desire to make them, their author, and their publisher, more considerable, by addressing and dedicating them all to you, &c. all i shall say for it is that 'tis the only dedication i ever writ, and shall be the only one, whether you accept it or not: for i will not bow the knee to a less man than my lord oxford, and i expect to see no greater in my time." the following is the latter part of the _poetical epistle_ here alluded to: and sure, if aught below the seats divine can touch immortals, 'tis a soul like thine: a soul supreme, in each hard instance tried, above all pain, all passion, and all pride; the rage of power, the blast of public breath, the lust of lucre, and the dread of death. in vain to deserts thy retreat is made; the muse attends thee to thy silent shade: 'tis her's the brave man's latest steps to trace, rejudge his acts, and dignify disgrace. when int'rest calls off all her sneaking train, and all th' obliged desert, and all the vain; she waits, or to the scaffold, or the cell, when the last lingering friend has bid farewell. ev'n now, she shades thy evening walk with bays, (no hireling she, no prostitute of praise) ev'n now, observant of the parting ray, eyes the calm sun-set of thy various day; thro' fortune's cloud one truly great can see, nor fears to tell that mortimer is he! _pope's works_, vol. ii., p. - . bowles's edit. the following was the reply of the earl of oxford to mr. pope. sir, i received your packet, which could not but give me great pleasure to see you preserve an old friend in your memory; for it must needs be very agreeable to be remembered by those we highly value. but then, how much shame did it cause me when i read your very fine verses inclosed! my mind reproached me how far short i came of what your great friendship and delicate pen would partially describe me. you ask my consent to publish it: to what straits doth this reduce me! i look back, indeed, to those evenings i have usefully and pleasantly spent with mr. pope, mr. parnell, dean swift, the doctor (arbuthnot), &c. i should be glad the world knew you admitted me to your friendship; and since your affection is too hard for your judgment, i am contented to let the world know how well mr. pope can write upon a barren subject. i return you an exact copy of the verses, that i may keep the original, as a testimony of the only error you have been guilty of. i hope, very speedily, to embrace you in london, and to assure you of the particular esteem and friendship wherewith i am your, &c., oxford. of tom osborne i have in vain endeavoured to collect some interesting biographical details. what i know of him shall be briefly stated. he was the most celebrated bookseller of his day; and appears, from a series of his catalogues in my possession, to have carried on a successful trade from the year to . what fortune he amassed, is not, i believe, very well known: his collections were truly valuable, for they consisted of the purchased libraries of the most eminent men of those times. in his stature he was short and thick; and, to his inferiors, generally spoke in an authoritative and insolent manner. "it has been confidently related," says boswell, "that johnson, one day, knocked osborne down in his shop with a folio, and put his foot upon his neck. the simple truth i had from johnson himself. 'sir, he was impertinent to me, and i beat him. but it was not in his shop: it was in my own chamber.'" to. edit., i., . of osborne's philological attainments, the meanest opinion must be formed, if we judge from his advertisements, which were sometimes inserted in the london gazette, and drawn up in the most ridiculously vain and ostentatious style. he used to tell the public that he possessed "all the pompous editions of classicks and lexicons." i insert the two following advertisements, prefixed, the one to his catalogue of , the other to that of , for the amusement of my bibliographical readers, and as a model for messrs. payne, white, miller, evans, priestley, and cuthell. "this catalogue being very large, and of consequence very expensive to the proprietor, he humbly requests that, if it falls into the hands of any gentleman _gratis_, who chooses not himself to be a purchaser of any of the books contained in it, that such gentleman will be pleased to recommend it to any other whom he thinks may be so, or to return it." to his catalogue of was the following: "to the nobility and gentry who please to favour me with their commands. it is hoped, as i intend to give no offence to any nobleman or gentleman, that do me the honour of being my customer, by putting a price on my catalogue, by which means they may not receive it as usual--it is desired that such nobleman or gentleman as have not received it, would be pleased to send for it; and it's likewise requested of such gentleman who do receive it, that, if they chuse not to purchase any of the books themselves, _they would recommend it to any bookish gentleman of their acquaintance, or to return it_, and the favour shall be acknowledged by, their most obedient and obliged, t. osborne." i shall conclude with the following curious story told of him, in mr. nichols's _anecdotes of bowyer_ the printer. "mr. david papillon, a gentleman of fortune and literary taste, as well as a good antiquary (who died in ) contracted with osborne to furnish him with an _l._ worth of books, at _threepence a piece_. the only conditions were, that they should be perfect, and that there should be no duplicate. osborne was highly pleased with his bargain, and the first great purchase he made, he sent mr. p. a large quantity; but in the next purchase, he found he could send but few, and the next, still fewer. not willing, however, to give up, he sent books worth _five shillings_ a piece; and, at last, was forced to go and beg to be let off the contract. eight thousand books would have been wanted!"--see p. - , note [symbol: double dagger].] lis. let us rise to pay him homage! phil. lisardo is now fairly bewitched. he believes in the existence of the group!--help, ho! fetters and warder for-- loren. philemon loves to indulge his wit at his friend's expense. is't not so, lisardo? lis. i forgive him. 'twas a "glorious fault." but, indeed, i would strip to the skin, if this said nobleman longed for my coat, waistcoat, small clothes, and shirt, to form him a cushion to sit upon! i have heard such wonderful things said of his library!-- lysand. and not more wonderful than its reputation justifies. well might pope be enamoured of such a noble friend--and well might even dr. mead bow to the superior splendour of such a book-competitor! while the higher order of bibliomaniacs, reposing upon satin sofas, were quaffing burgundy out of harley's curiously cut goblets, and listening to the captivating tale of mead or folkes, respecting a vellum _editio princeps_--the lower order, with bagford at their head, were boisterously regaling themselves below, drinking ale round an oaken table, and toasting their patron, till the eye could no longer discover the glass, nor the tongue utter his name. aloft, in mid air, sat the soothed spirits of smith and north; pointing, with their thin, transparent fingers, to the apotheosis of caxton and aldus! suddenly, a crowd of pipy fragrance involves the room: these ærial forms cease to be visible; and broken sounds, like the retiring tide beneath dover cliff, die away into utter silence. sleep succeeds: but short is the slumber of enthusiastic bibliomaniacs! the watchman rouses them from repose: and the annunciation of the hour of "two o'clock, and a moonlight morning," reminds them of their cotton night-caps and flock mattrasses. they start up, and sally forwards; chaunting, midst the deserted streets, and with eyes turned sapiently towards the moon, "long life to the king of book-collectors, harley, earl of oxford!" loren. a truce, lysander! i entreat a truce! lysand. to what? loren. to this discourse. you must be exhausted. phil. indeed i agree with lorenzo: for lysander has surpassed, in prolixity, the reputation of any orator within st. stephen's chapel. it only remains to eclipse, in a similar manner, the speeches which were delivered at hardy's trial--and then he may be called the _nonpareil_ of orators! lysand. if you banter me, i am dumb. nor did i know that there was any thing of eloquence in my chit-chat. if lisardo had had my experience, we might _then_ have witnessed some glittering exhibitions of imagination in the book-way! lis. my most excellent friend, i will strive to obtain this experience, since you are pleased to compliment me upon what i was not conscious of possessing--but, in truth, lysander, our obligations to you are infinite. lysand. no more; unless you are weary of this discourse-- phil. lis. weary!? loren. let me here exercise my undeniable authority. a _sandwich_, like the evening rain after a parching day, will recruit lysander's exhausted strength. what say you? lysand. "i shall in all things obey your high command." but hark--i hear the outer gate bell ring! the ladies are arrived: and you know my bashfulness in female society. adieu, bibliomania! 'till the morrow. loren. nay, you are drawing too dismal conclusions. my sisters are not sworn enemies to this kind of discourse. * * * * * the arrival of almansa and belinda, the sisters of lorenzo put a stop to the conversation. so abrupt a silence disconcerted the ladies; who, in a sudden, but, it must be confessed, rather taunting, strain--asked whether they should order their bed-chamber candlesticks, and retire to rest? lis. not if you are disposed to listen to the most engaging book-anecdote orator in his majesty's united realms! alman. well, this may be a sufficient inducement for us to remain. but why so suddenly silent, gentlemen? loren. the conversation had ceased before you arrived. we were thinking of a _hung-beef sandwich_ and a glass of madeira to recruit lysander's exhausted powers. he has been discoursing ever since dinner. belind. i will be his attendant and cup-bearer too, if he promises to resume his discourse. but you have probably dispatched the most interesting part. lysand. not exactly so, i would hope, fair lady! your brother's hospitality will add fresh energy to my spirit; and, like the renewed oil in an exhausted lamp, will cause the flame to break forth with fresh splendour. belind. sir, i perceive your ingenuity, at least, has not forsaken you--in whatever state your memory may be!-- * * * * * here the _sandwiches_ made their appearance: and lorenzo seated his guests, with his sisters, near him, round a small circular table. the repast was quickly over: and philemon, stirring the sugar within a goblet of hot madeira wine and water, promised them all a romantic book-story, if the ladies would only lend a gracious ear. such a request was, of course, immediately complied with. phil. the story is short-- lis. and sweet, i ween. phil. that remains to be proved. but listen. you all know my worthy friend, ferdinand: a very _helluo librorum_. it was on a warm evening in summer--about an hour after sunset--that ferdinand made his way towards a small inn, or rather village alehouse, that stood on a gentle eminence, skirted by a luxuriant wood. he entered, oppressed with heat and fatigue; but observed, on walking up to the porch "smothered with honey-suckles" (as i think cowper expresses it), that every thing around bore the character of neatness and simplicity. the holy-oaks were tall and finely variegated in blossom: the pinks were carefully tied up: and roses of all colours and fragrance stood around, in a compacted form, like a body-guard, forbidding the rude foot of trespasser to intrude. within, ferdinand found corresponding simplicity and comfort. the "gude" man of the house was spending the evening with a neighbour; but poached eggs and a rasher of bacon, accompanied with a flagon of sparkling ale, gave our guest no occasion to doubt the hospitality of the house, on account of the absence of its master. a little past ten, after reading some dozen pages in a volume of sir egerton brydges's _censura literaria_, which he happened to carry about him, and partaking pretty largely of the aforesaid eggs and ale, ferdinand called for his candle, and retired to repose. his bed-room was small, but neat and airy: at one end, and almost facing the window, there was a pretty large closet, with the door open: but ferdinand was too fatigued to indulge any curiosity about what it might contain. he extinguished his candle, and sank upon his bed to rest. the heat of the evening seemed to increase. he became restless; and, throwing off his quilt, and drawing his curtain aside, turned towards the window, to inhale the last breeze which yet might be wafted from the neighbouring heath. but no zephyr was stirring. on a sudden, a broad white flash of lightning--(nothing more than summer heat) made our bibliomaniac lay his head upon his pillow, and turn his eyes in an opposite direction. the lightning increased--and one flash, more vivid than the rest, illuminated the interior of the closet, and made manifest--_an old mahogany book-case_, stored with books. up started ferdinand, and put his phosphoric treasures into action. he lit his match, and trimmed his candle, and rushed into the closet--no longer mindful of the heavens--which now were in a blaze with the summer heat. the book-case was guarded both with glass and brass wires--and the key--no where to be found! hapless man!--for, to his astonishment, he saw _morte d'arthur_, printed by _caxton_--_richard coeur de lyon_, by _w. de worde_--_the widow edyth_, by _pynson_--and, towering above the rest, a large paper copy of the original edition of _prince's worthies of devon_; while, lying transversely at top, reposed _john weever's epigrams_, "the spirit of captain cox is here revived"--exclaimed ferdinand--while, on looking above, he saw a curious set of old plays, with _dido, queen of carthage_, at the head of them! what should he do? no key: no chance of handling such precious tomes--'till the morning light, with the landlord, returned! he moved backwards and forwards with a hurried step--prepared his pocket knife to cut out the panes of glass, and untwist the brazen wires--but a "_prick of conscience_" made him desist from carrying his wicked design into execution. ferdinand then advanced towards the window; and throwing it open, and listening to the rich notes of a concert of nightingales, forgot the cause of his torments--'till, his situation reminding him of "_the churl and the bird_," he rushed with renewed madness into the cupboard--then searched for the bell--but, finding none, he made all sorts of strange noises. the landlady rose, and, conceiving robbers to have broken into the stranger's room, came and demanded the cause of the disturbance. "madam," said ferdinand, "is there no possibility of inspecting the _books_ in the _cupboard_--where is the key?" "alack, sir," rejoined the landlady, "what is there that thus disturbs you in the sight of those books? let me shut the closet-door and take away the key of it, and you will then sleep in peace." "sleep in _peace_!" resumed ferdinand--"sleep in _wretchedness_, you mean! i can have no peace unless you indulge me with the key of the book-case. to whom do such gems belong?" "sir, they are not stolen goods."--"madam, i ask pardon--i did not mean to question their being honest property--but"--"sir, they are not mine or my husband's." "who, madam, who is the lucky owner?" "an elderly gentleman of the name of--sir, i am not at liberty to mention his name--but they belong to an elderly gentleman." "will he part with them--where does he live? can you introduce me to him?"--the good woman soon answered all ferdinand's rapid queries, but the result was by no means satisfactory to him. he learnt that these uncommonly scarce and precious volumes belonged to an ancient gentleman, whose name was studiously concealed; but who was in the habit of coming once or twice a week, during the autumn, to smoke his pipe, and lounge over his books: sometimes making extracts from them, and sometimes making observations in the margin with a pencil. whenever a very curious passage occurred, he would take out a small memorandum book, and put on a pair of large tortoise-shell spectacles, with powerful magnifying glasses, in order to insert this passage with particular care and neatness. he usually concluded his evening amusements by sleeping in the very bed in which ferdinand had been lying. such intelligence only sharpened the curiosity, and increased the restlessness, of poor ferdinand. he retired to this said bibliomaniacal bed, but not to repose. the morning sun-beams, which irradiated the book-case with complete effect, shone upon his pallid countenance and thoughtful brow. he rose at five: walked in the meadows till seven; returned and breakfasted--stole up stairs to take a farewell peep at his beloved _morte d'arthur_--sighed "three times and more"--paid his reckoning; apologised for the night's adventure; told the landlady he would shortly come and visit her again, and try to pay his respects to the anonymous old gentleman. "meanwhile," said he, "i will leave no bookseller's shop in the neighbourhood unvisited, 'till i gain intelligence of his name and character." the landlady eyed him steadily; took a pinch of snuff with a significant air; and, returning, with a smile of triumph, to her kitchen, thanked her stars that she had got rid of such a madman! ladies and gentlemen, i have done. lis. and creditably done, too! alman. if this be a specimen of your previous conversation, we know not what we have lost by our absence. but i suspect, that the principal ingredient of poetry, fiction, has a little aided in the embellishment of your story. belin. this is not very gallant or complimentary on your part, almansa. i harbour no suspicion of its verity; for marvellous things have been told me, by my brother, of the whimsical phrensies of book-fanciers. loren. if you will only listen a little to lysander's _sequel_, you will hear almost equally marvellous things; which i suspect my liberally minded sister, almansa, will put down to the score of poetical embellishment. but i see she is conscious of her treasonable aspersions of the noble character of bibliomaniacs, and is only anxious for lysander to resume. alman. sir, i entreat you to finish your history of bibliomaniacs. your friend, philemon, has regaled us with an entertaining episode, and you have probably, by this time, recovered strength sufficient to proceed with the main story. lysand. madam, i am equally indebted to your brother for his care of the body, and to my friend for his recreation of the mind. the midnight hour, i fear, is swiftly approaching. loren. it is yet at a considerable distance. we have nearly reached the middle of the eighteenth century, and you may surely carry on your reminiscential exertions to the close of the same. by that time, we may be disposed for our nightcaps. lysand. unheeded be the moments and hours which are devoted to the celebration of eminent book-collectors! let the sand roll down the glass as it will; let "the chirping on each thorn" remind us of aurora's saucy face peering above the horizon! in such society, and with such a subject of discussion, who-- lis. lysander brightens as his story draws to a close: his colouring will be more vivid than ever. belind. tell me--are bibliographers usually thus eloquent? they have been described to me as a dry, technical race of mortals--quoting only title-pages and dates. lysand. madam, believe not the malicious evidence of book-heretics. let ladies, like yourself and your sister, only make their appearance with a choice set of bibliomaniacs, at this time of night, and if the most interesting conversation be not the result--i have very much under-rated the colloquial powers of my brethren. but you shall hear. we left off with lauding the bibliomaniacal celebrity of harley, earl of oxford. before the dispersion of his grand collection, died john bridges,[ ] a gentleman, a scholar, and a notorious book-collector. the catalogue of his books is almost the first classically arranged one in the eighteenth century: and it must be confessed that the collection was both curious and valuable. bridges was succeeded by anthony collins,[ ] the free thinker; a character equally strange and unenviable. book-fanciers now and then bid a few shillings, for a copy of the catalogue of his library; and some sly free-thinkers, of modern date, are not backward in shewing a sympathy in their predecessor's fame, by the readiness with which they bid a half-guinea, or more, for a _priced copy_ of it. [footnote : _bibliothecæ bridgesianæ catalogus_: or a catalogue of the library of john bridges, esq., consisting of above books and manuscripts in all languages and faculties; particularly in classics and history; and especially the history and antiquities of great britain and ireland, &c., london, , vo. two different catalogues of this valuable collection of books were printed. the one was analysed, or a _catalogue raisonné_, to which was prefixed a print of a grecian portico, &c., with ornaments and statues: the other (expressly for the sale) was an indigested and extremely confused one--to which was prefixed a print, designed and engraved by a. motte, of an oak felled, with a number of men cutting down and carrying away its branches; illustrative of the following greek motto inscribed on a scroll above--[greek: dryos pesousês pas anêr xyleuetai]; "an affecting momento (says mr. nichols, very justly, in his _anecdotes of bowyer_, p. ) to the collectors of great libraries, who cannot, or do not, leave them to some public accessible repository." my friend, dr. gosset, was once so fortunate as to pick up for me a _large paper_ copy of the analysed catalogue, bound in old blue morocco, and ruled with red lines, for _s._!--"happy day!"] [footnote : in the year - , there was sold by auction at st. paul's coffee house, in st. paul's church yard (beginning every evening at five o'clock), the library of the celebrated free thinker, anthony collins, esq. "containing a collection of several thousand volumes in greek, latin, english, french, and spanish; in divinity, history, antiquity, philosophy, husbandry, and all polite literature: and especially many curious travels and voyages; and many rare and valuable pamphlets." this collection, which is divided into _two parts_ (the first containing articles, the second ), is well worthy of being consulted by the theologian who is writing upon any controverted point of divinity; as there are articles in it of the rarest occurrence. the singular character of its owner and of his works is well known: he was at once the friend and the opponent of locke and clarke, who both were anxious for the conversion of a character of such strong, but misguided, talents. the former, on his death-bed, wrote collins a letter to be delivered to him after his decease, which was full of affection and good advice.] we may here but slightly allude to the bibliographical reputation of maittaire, as so much was said of him the day before yesterday.[ ] [footnote : the reader will find some account of maittaire's bibliographical labours at p. , ante; and of his editions of the ancient classics, at p. , vol. ii., of my _introduction to the knowledge of rare and valuable editions of the greek and latin classics_. he need here only be informed that maittaire's books were sold by auction in november, , and january, ; the catalogue of them forming _two parts_, with one of these dates affixed to each. the collection must have been uncommonly numerous; and of their intrinsic value the reader will best judge by the following extract from the "advertisement," by cock the auctioneer, at the back of the title-page: "tho' the books, in their present condition, make not the most ostentatious appearance, yet, like the late worthy possessor of them, however plain their outside may be, they contain within an invaluable treasure of ingenuity and learning. in fine, this is (after fifty years' diligent search and labour in collecting) the entire library of mr. maittaire; whose judgement in the choice of books, as it ever was confessed, so are they, undoubtedly, far beyond whatever i can attempt to say in their praise. in exhibiting them thus to the public, i comply with the will of my deceased friend; and in printing the catalogue from his own copy just as he left it (tho' by so doing it is the more voluminous) i had an opportunity, not only of doing the justice i owe to his memory, but also of gratifying the curious." i incline strongly to think there were no copies of this catalogue printed upon large paper. when priced, the usual copy brings a fair round sum.] belin. all this may be very learned and just. but of these gentlemen i find no account in the fashionable necrologies. loren. only wait a little, and lysander will break forth with the mention of some transcendental bibliomaniac. lysand. yes, ever renowned richard mead![ ] thy _pharmacopæal_ reputation is lost in the blaze of thy _bibliomaniacal_ glory! Æsculapius may plant his herbal crown round thy brow, and hygeia may scatter her cornucopia of roses at thy feet--but what are these things compared with the homage offered thee by the gesners, baillets, and le longs, of old? what avail even the roseate blushes of thousands, whom thy medical skill, may have snatched from a premature grave--compared with the life, vigour, animation and competition which thy example infused into the book-world! [footnote : it is almost impossible to dwell on the memory of this great man, without emotions of delight--whether we consider him as an eminent physician, a friend to literature, or a collector of books, pictures, and coins. benevolence, magnanimity, and erudition were the striking features of his character. his house was the general receptacle of men of genius and talent, and of every thing beautiful, precious, and rare. his curiosities, whether books, or coins, or pictures, were freely laid open to the public; and the enterprising student, and experienced antiquary, alike found amusement and a courteous reception. he was known to all foreigners of intellectual distinction, and corresponded both with the artisan and the potentate. the great patron of literature, and the leader of his profession, it was hardly possible, as lysander has well observed, "for modest merit if properly introduced to him, to depart unrewarded or ungratified." the clergy, and, in general, all men of learning, received his advice gratuitously; and his doors were open every morning to the most indigent, whom he frequently assisted with money. although his income, from his professional practice, was very considerable, he died by no means a rich man--so large were the sums which he devoted to the encouragement of literature and the fine arts! the sale of dr. mead's _books_ commenced on the th of november, , and again on the th of april, : lasting together days. the sale of the _prints_ and _drawings_ continued nights. the _gems_, _bronzes_, _busts_, and _antiquities_, days. his books produced £ pictures prints and drawings coins and medals antiquities ------------ amount of all the sales £ , ------------ it would be difficult to mention, within a moderate compass, all the rare and curious articles which his library contained--but the following are too conspicuous to be passed over. the _spira virgil_, of , _pfintzing's tewrdanchk's_, , _brandt's stultifera navis_, , and the _aldine petrarch_, of , all upon vellum. the large paper _olivet's cicero_ was purchased by dr. askew, for _l._ _s._, and was sold again at his sale for _l._ _s._ the king of france bought the editio princeps of _pliny senior_ for _l._ _s._: and mr. wilcock, a bookseller, bought the magnificently illuminated _pliny by jenson_, of , for _l._ _s._: of which maittaire has said so many fine things. the _french_ books, and all the works upon the _fine arts_, were of the first rarity and value, and bound in a sumptuous manner. winstanley's _prospects of audley end_ brought _l._ an amusing account of some of the pictures will be found in mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_, vol. i., , . but consult also _nichols's anecdotes of bowyer_, p. , &c. of the catalogue of dr. mead's books, there were only six copies printed upon _large paper_. see _bibl. lort_, no. . i possess one of these copies, uncut and priced. dr. mead had parted, in his life-time, to the present king's father, with several miniature pictures of great value (walpole anec., vol. i., ) by isaac oliver and holbein, which are now in his majesty's collection. dr. askew had purchased his greek mss. for _l._ pope has admirably well said, "rare _monkish manuscripts_ for hearne alone, and _books_ for mead, and _butterflies_ for sloane." _epistle_ iv. upon which his commentator, warburton, thus observes: "these were two eminent physicians; the one had an excellent library, the other the finest collection in europe of natural curiosities." for nearly half a century did dr. mead pursue an unrivalled career in his profession. he was (perhaps "thrice") presented with the presidentship of the college of physicians, which he ("thrice") refused. one year it is said he made _l._, a great sum in his time! his regular emoluments were between _l._ and _l._ per annum. he died on the th of february, , in the st year of his age. on his death, dr. askew, who seems to have had a sort of filial veneration for his character, and whose pursuits were in every respect congenial with dr. mead's, presented the college of physicians with a marble bust of him, beautifully executed by roubilliac, and for which he paid the sculptor _l._ a whimsical anecdote is connected with the execution of this bust. roubilliac agreed with dr. askew for _l._: the doctor found it so highly finished that he paid him for it _l._ the sculptor said this was not enough, and brought in a bill for _l._ _s._ dr. askew paid this demand, even to the odd shillings, and then enclosed the receipt to mr. hogarth, to produce at the next meeting of artists. nichols's _anec. of bowyer_, p. . "i cannot help," says mr. edwards, the late ornithologist, "informing succeeding generations that they may see the _real features_ of dr. mead in this bust: for i, who was as well acquainted with his face as any man living, do pronounce this bust of him to be so like that, as often as i see it, my mind is filled with the strongest idea of the original." hearne speaks of the meadean family with proper respect, in his _alured de beverly_, p. xlv.; and in _walter hemingford_, vol. i., xxxv. in his _gulielmus nubrigensis_, vol. iii., p. (note), he says of our illustrious bibliomaniac:--"that most excellent physician, and truly great man, dr. richard mead, to whom i am eternally obliged." there is an idle story somewhere told of dr. mead's declining the acceptance of a challenge to fight with swords--alleging his want of skill in the art of fencing: but this seems to be totally void of authority. thus far, concerning dr. mead, from the first edition of this work, and the paper entitled "the director." the following particulars, which i have recently learnt of the mead family, from john nicholl, esq., my neighbour at kensington, and the maternal grandson of the doctor, may be thought well worth subjoining. matthew mead, his father, was a clergyman. he gave up his living at stepney in ; which was afterwards divided into the four fine livings now in the gift of brazen-nose college, oxford. his parishioners built him a chapel; but he retired to a farm in the country, and had the reputation of handling a bullock as well as any butcher in the county. he went abroad in the reign of james ii., and had his sons, samuel and richard, educated under grævius. samuel mead, _his brother_, was a distinguished chancery barrister, and got his _l._ per ann.; his cronies were wilbraham and lord harcourt. these, with a few other eminent barristers, used to meet at a coffee-house, and drink their favourite, and then fashionable, liquor--called _bishop_, which consisted of red wine, lemon, and sugar. samuel was a shy character, and loved privacy. he had a good country house, and handsome chambers in lincoln's inn, and kept a carriage for his sister's use, having his coachmaker's arms painted upon the panel. what is very characteristic of the modesty of his profession, he pertinaciously refused a silk gown! a word or two remains to be said of our illustrious bibliomaniac richard. his brother left him , _l._, and giving full indulgence to his noble literary feelings, the doctor sent carte, the historian, to france, to rummage for mss. of _thuanus_, and to restore the castrated passages which were not originally published for fear of offending certain families. he made buckley, the editor, procure the best _ink and paper_ from holland, for this edition of thuanus, which was published at his own expense; and the doctor was remarkably solicitous that nothing of exterior pomp and beauty should be wanting in the publication. the result verified his most sanguine expectation; for a finer edition of a valuable historian has never seen the light. dr. ward, says mr. nichols, is supposed to have written mead's latin, but the fact is not so; or it is exclusively applicable to the _later_ pieces of mead. the doctor died in his rd year (and in full possession of his mental powers), from a fall occasioned by the negligence of a servant. he was a great _diagnostic_ physician; and, when he thought deeply, was generally correct in judging of the disorder by the appearance of the countenance.] the tears shed by virtuous bibliomaniacs at harley's death were speedily wiped away, when the recollection of thine, and of thy contemporary's, folkes's[ ] fame, was excited in their bosoms. illustrious bibliomaniacs! your names and memories will always live in the hearts of noble-minded literati: the treasures of your museums and libraries--your liberal patronage and ever-active exertions in the cause of virtu--whether connected with coins, pictures, or books--can never be banished, at least, from my grateful mind:--and if, at this solemn hour, when yonder groves and serpentine walks are sleeping in the quiet of moon-light, your spirits could be seen placidly to flit along, i would burst from this society--dear and congenial as it is--to take your last instructions, or receive your last warnings, respecting the rearing of a future age of bibliomaniacs! ye were, in good earnest, noble-hearted book-heroes!--but i wander:--forgive me! [footnote : "_a catalogue of the entire and valuable library of_ martin folkes, esq., president of the royal society, and member of the royal academy of sciences at paris, lately deceased; which will be sold by auction, by samuel baker, at his house in york street, covent-garden. to begin on monday, february , , and to continue for forty days successively (sundays excepted). catalogues to be had at most of the considerable places in europe, and all the booksellers of great britain and ireland. price sixpence." this collection was an exceedingly fine one; enriched with many books of the choicest description, which mr. folkes had acquired in his travels in italy and germany. the works on natural history, coins, medals, inscriptions, and on the fine arts in general, formed the most valuable department--those on the greek, latin, and english classics were comparatively of inferior importance. it is a great pity the catalogue was not better digested; or the books classed according to the nature of their contents. the following prices, for some of the more rare and interesting articles, will amuse a bibliographer of the present day. the chronicles of fabian, hall, and grafton, did not, altogether, bring quite _l._, though the copies are described as perfect and fair. there seems to have been a fine set of sir wm. dugdale's works (nos. - ) in vols., which, collectively, produced about guineas! at the present day, they are worth about _l._--in _spanish literature_, the history of south america, by john duan and ant. di ulloa, madr., fol., in vols., was sold for _l._: a fine large paper copy of the description of the monastery of st. lorenzo, and the escorial, madr., , brought _l._ _s._; de lastanosa's spanish medals, huesca, fol., , _l._ _s._--in _english_, the first edition of shakspeare, , which is now what a french bibliographer would say, "presque introuvable," produced the sum of _l._ _s._; and fuller's worthies, _s._!----_fine arts, antiquities, and voyages._ sandrart's works, in folio volumes (of which a fine perfect copy is now rarely to be met with, and of very great value) were sold for _l._ _s._ only: desgodetz roman edifices, paris, , _l._ _s._ galleria giustiniano, vols., fol., _l._ _s._ le brun's voyages in muscovy, &c., in large paper, _l._ _s._ de rossi's raccolta de statue, &c., rom., , _l._ _s._ medailles du regne de louis le grand: de l'imp. roy. . p. fol., , _l._ _s._ _d._----the works on _natural history_ brought still higher prices: but the whole, from the present depreciation of money, and increased rarity of the articles, would now bring thrice the sums then given.--of the _greek and latin classics_, the pliny of and were sold to dr. askew, for _l._ _s._ and _l._ _s._ _d._ at the doctor's sale they brought _l._ and _l._, although the first was lately sold (a.d. ) among some duplicates of books belonging to the british museum, at a much lower price: the copy was, in fact, neither large nor beautiful. those in lord spencer's, and the hunter and cracherode collections, are greatly superior, and would each bring more than double the price. from a priced copy of the sale catalogue, upon _large paper_, and uncut, in my possession, i find that the amount of the sale, consisting of articles, was _l._ _s._ the _prints, and drawings_ of mr. folkes occupied a sale of days: and his _pictures_, _gems_, _coins_, and _mathematical instruments_, of five days. mr. martin folkes may justly be ranked among the most useful, as well as splendid, literary characters, of which this country can boast. he appears to have imbibed, at a very early age, an extreme passion for science and literature; and to have distinguished himself so much at the university of cambridge, under the able tuition of dr. laughton, that, in his rd year, he was admitted a fellow of the royal society. about two years afterwards he was chosen one of the council; and rose in succession to the chair of the presidentship, which, as lysander above truly says, he filled with a credit and celebrity that has since never been surpassed. on this occasion he was told by dr. jurin, the secretary, who dedicated to him the th vol. of the transactions, that "the greatest man that ever lived (sir isaac newton) singled him out to fill the chair, and to preside in the society, when he himself was so frequently prevented by indisposition; and that it was sufficient to say of him that he was _sir isaac's friend_." within a few years afterwards, he was elected president of the society of antiquaries. two situations, the filling of which may be considered as the _ne plus ultra_ of literary distinction. mr. folkes travelled abroad, with his family, about two years and a half, visiting the cities of rome, florence, and venice--where he was noticed by almost every person of rank and reputation, and whence he brought away many a valuable article to enrich his own collection. he was born in the year , and died of a second stroke of the palsy, under which he languished for three years, in . he seems to have left behind him a considerable fortune. among his numerous bequests was one to the royal society of _l._, along with a fine portrait of lord bacon, and a large cornelian ring, with the arms of the society engraved upon it, for the perpetual use of the president and his successors in office. the mss. of his own composition, not being quite perfect, were, to the great loss of the learned world, ordered by him to be destroyed. the following wood-cut portrait is taken from a copper-plate in the _portraits des hommes illustres de denmark_, to., parts, : part th, a volume which abounds with a number of copper-plate engravings, _worked off_ in a style of uncommon clearness and brilliancy. some of the portraits themselves are rather stiff and unexpressive; but the vignettes are uniformly tasteful and agreeable. the seven parts are rarely found in an equal state of perfection. [illustration] dr. birch has drawn a very just and interesting character of this eminent man, which may be found in nichols's _anecdotes of bowyer_, pp. - . mr. edwards, the late ornithologist, has described him in a simple, but appropriate, manner. "he seemed," says he, "to have attained to universal knowledge; for, in the many opportunities i have had of being in his company, almost every part of science has happened to be the subject of discourse, all of which he handled as an adept. he was a man of great politeness in his manners, free from all pedantry and pride, and, in every respect, the real, unaffected, fine gentleman."] alman. pray keep to this earth, and condescend to notice us mortals of flesh and blood, who have heard of dr. mead, and martin folkes, only as eminently learned and tasteful characters. lysand. i crave your forgiveness. but dr. mead's cabinet of coins, statues, and books, was so liberally thrown open for the public inspection that it was hardly possible for modest merit, if properly made known to him, to depart unrewarded or ungratified. nor does the renowned president of the royal and antiquarian societies--martin folkes--merit a less warm eulogy; for he filled these distinguished situations with a credit which has never since been surpassed. but there is yet an illustrious tribe to be recorded. we have, first, richard rawlinson,[ ] brother of the renowned _tom folio_, whose choice and tasteful collection of books, as recorded in auctioneering annals, is deserving of high commendation. but his name and virtues are better known in the university, to which he was a benefactor, than to the noisy circles of the metropolis. the sale of orator henley's books "followed hard upon" that of richard rawlinson's; and if the spirit of their owner could, from his "gilt tub," have witnessed the grimaces and jokes which marked the sale--with the distorted countenances and boisterous laughter which were to be seen on every side--how it must have writhed under the smart of general ridicule, or have groaned under the torture of contemptuous indignation! peace to henley's[ ] vexed _manes_!--and similar contempt await the efforts of all literary quacks and philosophical knaves! [footnote : "bibliotheca rawlinsoniana, _sive catalogus librorum richardi rawlinson_, ll.d. qui prostabunt venales sub hasta, apud samuelem baker, in vico dicto york-street, covent garden, londoni, die lunæ marti mdcclvi." with the following whimsical greek motto in the title-page: [greek: kai gar o taôs dia to spanion thaumazetai]. eubulus. ("the peacock is admired on account of its rarity.") this valuable library must have contained nearly , volumes, multiplying the number of articles ( ) by --the usual mode of calculation. unfortunately, as was the case with dr. mead's and mr. folkes's, the books were not arranged according to any particular classification. old black-letter english were mixed with modern italian, french, and latin; and novels and romances interspersed with theology and mathematics. an _alphabetical_ arrangement, be the books of whatever kind they may, will in general obviate the inconvenience felt from such an undigested plan; and it were "devoutly to be wished," by all true bibliographers, that an act of parliament should pass for the due observance of this alphabetical order. we all know our a, b, c, but have not all analytical heads; or we may differ in our ideas of analysis. the scientific and alphabetical _united_ is certainly better; like mr. harris's excellent catalogue, noticed at p. , ante. the "_méthode pour dresser une bibliothéque_," about which de bure, formey, and peignot have so solemnly argued, is not worth a moment's discussion. every man likes to be his own librarian, as well as "his own broker." but to return to dr. rawlinson's collection. on examining a priced catalogue of it, which now lies before me, i have not found any higher sum offered for a work than _l._ _s._ for a collection of fine prints, by aldegrever. (no. .) the greek and latin classics, of which there were few _editiones principes_, or on _large paper_, brought the usual sums given at that period. the old english black-letter books, which were pretty thickly scattered throughout the collection, were sold for exceedingly low prices--if the copies were perfect. witness the following: £ _s._ _d._ the newe testament in english, the ymage of both churches, after the revelation of st. john, by bale, the boke called the pype or tonne of perfection, by richard whytforde, the visions of pierce plowman, the creede of pierce plowman, the bookes of moses, in english, bale's actes of english votaryes, the boke of chivalrie, by caxton the boke of st. alban's, by w. de worde these are only very few of the rare articles in english literature; of the whole of which (perhaps upwards of in number) i believe the boke of st. albans brought the highest sum. hence it will be seen that this was not the age of curious research into the productions of our ancestors. shakspeare had not then appeared in a proper _variorum edition_. theobald, pope, and warburton, had not investigated the =black-letter= lore of ancient english writers for the illustration of their favourite author. this was reserved for capell, farmer, steevens, malone, chalmers, reed, and douce: and it is expressly to these latter gentlemen (for johnson and hanmer were very sparing, or very shy, of the black-letter), that we are indebted for the present spirit of research into the works of our ancestors. the sale of the _books_ lasted days. there was a second sale of _pamphlets, books of prints, &c._, in the following year, which lasted days: and this was immediately succeeded by a sale of the doctor's _single prints and drawings_, which continued days. dr. rawlinson's benefactions to oxford, besides his anglo-saxon endowment at st. john's college, were very considerable; including, amongst other curiosities, _a series of medals of the popes_, which the doctor supposed to be one of the most complete collections in europe; and a great number of valuable mss., which he directed to be safely locked up, and not to be opened till seven years after his decease. he died on the th of april, . to st. john's college, where he had been a gentleman commoner, dr. rawlinson left the bulk of his estate, amounting to near _l._ a year: _a plate of abp. laud_, volumes of _parliamentary journals and debates_, a set of _rymer's foedera_, his _greek_, _roman_, and _english coins_, not given to the bodleian library; all his plates engraved at the expense of the society of antiquaries; his diploma, and his _heart_; which latter is placed in a beautiful urn against the chapel wall, with this inscription: urbi thesaurus, ibi cor. ric. rawlinson, ll.d. & ant. s.s. olim hujus collegii superioris ordinis commensalis. obiit. vi. apr. mdcclv. hearne speaks of him, in the preface of his _tit. liv. for. jul. vita hen. v._, p. xvi., as "vir antiquis moribus ornatus, perque eam viam euns, quæ ad immortalem gloriam ducit."] [footnote : this gentleman's library, not so remarkable for the black-letter as for whimsical publications, was sold by auction, by samuel paterson (the earliest sale in which i find this well known book-auctioneer engaged), in june, , and the three ensuing evenings. the title of the sale catalogue is as follows:----"_a catalogue of the original mss. and manuscript collections of the late_ reverend mr. john henley, a.m., independent minister of the oratory, &c., in which are included sundry collections of the late mons. des maizeaux, the learned editor of bayle, &c., mr. lowndes, author of the report for the amendment of silver coins, &c., dr. patrick blair, physician at boston, and f.r.s., &c. together with original letters and papers of state, addressed to henry d'avenant, esq., her britannic majesty's envoy at francfort, from to inclusive." few libraries have contained more curious and remarkable publications than did this. the following articles, given as notable specimens, remind us somewhat of addison's memoranda for the spectator, which the waiter at the coffee-house picked up and read aloud for the amusement of the company.----no. . god's manifestation by a star to the dutch. a mortifying fast-diet at court. on the birth day of the first and oldest young gentleman. all corrupt: none good; no, not one.---- . general thumbissimo. the spring reversed, or the flanderkin's opera and dutch pickle herrings. the creolean fillip, or royal mishap. a martial telescope, &c. england's passion sunday, and april changelings.---- . speech upon speech. a telescope for tournay. no battle, but worse, and the true meaning of it. an army beaten and interred.---- . signs when the p. will come. was captain sw-n, a prisoner on parole, to be catechised? david's opinion of like times. the seeds of the plot may rise though the leaves fall. a perspective, from the blair of athol. the pretender's popery. murder! fire! where! where!---- . taking carlise, catching an eel by the tail. address of a bishop, dean, and clergy. swearing to the p----r, &c. anathema denounced against those parents, masters, and magistrates, that do not punish the sin at stokesley. a speech, &c. a parallel between the rebels to k. charles i. and those to his successor. _jane cameron_ looked killing at _falkirk_.---- . let stocks be knighted, write, sir bank, &c., the ramhead month. a proof that the writers against popery, fear it will be established in this kingdom. a scheme wisely blabbed to root and branch the highlanders. let st. patrick have fair play, &c.----of orator henley i have not been able to collect any biographical details, more interesting than those which are to be found in warburton's notes to pope's dunciad: he was born at melton mowbray, in leicestershire, in , and was brought up at st. john's college, in the university of cambridge. after entering into orders, he became a preacher in london, and established a lecture on sunday evenings, near lincoln's-inn fields, and another on wednesday evenings, chiefly on political and scientific subjects. each auditor paid one shilling for admission. "he declaimed," says warburton, "against the greatest persons, and occasionally did our poet (pope) that honour. when he was at cambridge, he began to be uneasy; for it shocked him to find he was commanded to believe against his own judgment in points of religion, philosophy, &c.: for his genius leading him freely to _dispute all propositions_, and _call all points to account_, he was impatient under those fetters of the free-born mind." when he was admitted into priest's orders, he thought the examination so short and superficial that he considered it "_not necessary to conform to the christian religion_, in order either to be a deacon or priest." with these quixotic sentiments he came to town; and "after having, for some years, been a writer for the booksellers, he had an ambition to be so for ministers of state." the only reason he did not rise in the church, we are told, "was the envy of others, and a disrelish entertained of him, because _he was not qualified to be a complete spaniel_." however, he offered the service of his pen to two great men, of opinions and interests directly opposite: but being rejected by both of them, he set up a new project, and styled himself, "_the restorer of ancient eloquence._" henley's pulpit, in which he preached, "was covered with velvet, and adorned with gold." it is to this that pope alludes, in the first couplet of his second book of the dunciad: high on a gorgeous seat, that far outshone henley's _gilt tub_---- "he had also an altar, and placed over it this extraordinary inscription, '_the primitive eucharist._'" we are told by his friend welsted (narrative in oratory transact. no. ) that "he had the assurance to form a plan, which no mortal _ever thought of_; he had success against all opposition; challenged his adversaries to fair disputations, and _none would dispute with him_: he wrote, read, and studied, twelve hours a day; composed three dissertations a week on all subjects; undertook to teach in _one year_ what schools and universities teach in _five_: was not terrified by menaces, insults, or satires; but still proceeded, matured his bold scheme, and put the church and _all that in danger_!" see note to dunciad, book iii., v. . pope has described this extraordinary character with singular felicity of expression: but, where each science lifts its modern type, hist'ry her pot, divinity her pipe, while proud philosophy repines to shew, dishonest sight! his breeches rent below; imbrown'd with native bronze, lo! henley stands, tuning his voice and balancing his hands. how fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue! how sweet the periods, neither said nor sung! still break the benches, henley! with thy strain, while sherlock, hare, and gibson, preach in vain. oh great restorer of the good old stage, preacher at once, and zany of thy age, oh worthy thou, of egypt's wise abodes, a decent priest, where monkeys were the gods! but fate with butchers plac'd thy priestly stall, meek modern faith to murder, hack, and mawl; and bade thee live, to crown britannia's praise, in toland's, tindal's, and in woolston's days. _dunciad_, b. iii., v. , &c. bromley, in his catalogue of engraved portraits, mentions _four_ of orator henley: two of which are inscribed, one by worlidge "the orator of newport market;" another (without engraver's name) "a rationalist." there is a floating story which i have heard of henley. he gave out that he would shew a new and expeditious method of converting a pair of boots into shoes. a great concourse of people attended, expecting to see something very marvellous; when henley mounted his "tub," and, holding up a boot, he took a knife, and _cut away the leg part of the leather_!] there are, i had almost said, innumerable contemporaneous bibliomaniacal characters to be described--or rather, lesser stars or satellites that move, in their now unperceived orbits, around the great planets of the book world--but, at this protracted hour of discussion, i will not pretend even to mention their names. lis. yet, go on--unless the female part of the audience be weary--go on describing, by means of your great telescopic powers, every little white star that is sprinkled in this bibliomaniacal _via lactea_![ ] [footnote : with great submission to the "reminescential" talents of lysander, he might have devoted one _minute_ to the commendation of the very curious library of john hutton, which was disposed of, by auction, in the same year ( ) in which genl. dormer's was sold. hutton's library consisted almost entirely of _english literature_: the rarest books in which are printed in the italic type. when the reader is informed that "_robinsons life, actes, and death of prince arthur_," and his "_ancient order, societie, and unitie, laudable of the same_," , to. (see no. ; concerning which my worthy friend, mr. haslewood, has discoursed so accurately and copiously: _british bibliographer_, vol. i., pp. ; ), when he is informed that this produced only _s._ _d._--that "_hypnerotomachia_," , to. (no. ), was sold for only _s._--the _myrrour of knighthood_, , to. (no. ), only _s._--_palmerin of england_, pts. in vols. , , to. (no. ), _s._--_painter's palace of pleasure_, vols. in , - , to. (no. )--when, i say, the tender-hearted bibliomaniac thinks that all these rare and precious black letter gems were sold, collectively, for only _l._ _s._ _d._!--what must be his reproaches upon the lack of spirit which was evinced at this sale! especially must his heart melt within him, upon looking at the produce of some of these articles at the sale of george steevens' books, only years afterwards! no depreciation of money can account for this woful difference. i possess a wretchedly priced copy of the _bibl. huttoniana_, which i purchased, without title-page or a decent cover, at the sale of mr. gough's books, for _s._ lysander ought also to have noticed in its chronological order, the extensive and truly valuable library of robert hoblyn; the catalogue of which was published in the year , vo., in two parts: pp. . i know not who was the author of the arrangement of this collection; but i am pretty confident that the judicious observer will find it greatly superior to every thing of its kind, with hardly even the exception of the _bibliotheca croftsiana_. it is accurately and handsomely executed, and wants only an index to make it truly valuable. the collection, moreover, is a very sensible one. my copy is upon _large paper_; which is rather common.] alman. upon my word, lisardo, there is no subject however barren, but what may be made fruitful by your metaphorical powers of imagination. lis. madam, i entreat you not to be excursive. lysander has taken a fresh sip of his nectar, and has given a hem or two--preparing to resume his narrative. lysand. we have just passed over the bar that separates the one half of the th century from the other: and among the ensuing eminent collectors, whose brave fronts strike us with respect, is general dormer:[ ] a soldier who, i warrant you, had faced full many a cannon, and stormed many a rampart, with courage and success. but he could not resist the raging influence of the book-mania: nor could all his embrasures and entrenchments screen him from the attacks of this insanity. his collection was both select and valuable. [footnote : "_a catalogue of the genuine and elegant library of the late_ sir c.c. dormer, collected by lieutenant general james dormer; which will be sold, &c., by samuel baker, at his house in york-street, covent garden; to begin on monday, february the th, , and to continue the nineteen following evenings." at the end of the catalogue we are told that the books were "in general of the best editions, and in the finest condition, many of them in _large paper_, bound in morocco, gilt leaves," &c. this was a very choice collection of books; consisting almost entirely of french, greek, latin, italian, and spanish. the number of articles did not exceed ; and of volumes, probably not . the catalogue is neatly printed, and copies of it on _large paper_ are exceedingly scarce. among the most curious and valuable articles are the following:----no. . les glorieuses conquestes de louis le grand, par pontault, _en maroquin_. paris, . ("_n.b. in this copy many very fine and rare portraits are added, engraved by the most eminent masters._")----no. . recueil des maisons royales, fort bien gravés par sylvestre, &c. (n.b. in the book was the following note. "_ce recueil des maisons royales n'est pas seulement complet, en toutes manières, mais on y a ajouté plusieurs plans, que l'on ne trouvent que très rarement._")----no. . fabian's chronicle, .---- , hall's ditto. .---- . higden's polychronicon. . (i suspect that dr. askew purchased the large paper hutchinson's xenophon, and hudson's thucydides. nos. , .)----no. . don quixote, por cervantes. madr., to., . in hoc libro hæc nota est. "_cecy est l'edition originale; il y a une autre du mesme année, imprimée en quarto à madrid, mais imprimée apres cecy. j'ay veu l'autre, et je les ay comparez avec deux autres editions du mesme année, ; une imprimée à lisbonne, en to., l'autre en valentia, en_ vo."----no. . thuanus by buckley, on _large paper_, in volumes, folio; a magnificent copy, illustrated with many beautiful and rare portraits of eminent characters, mentioned by de thou. (n.b. this very copy was recently sold for _l._)----from no. to the end of the catalogue ( articles) there appears a choice collection of italian and spanish books.] we have before noticed the celebrated diplomatic character, consul smith, and have spoken with due respect of his library: let us here, therefore, pass by him,[ ] in order to take a full and complete view of a _non-pareil_ collector: the first who, after the days of richard smith, succeeded in reviving the love of black-letter lore and of caxtonian typography--need i say james west?[ ] [footnote : the reader has had a sufficiently particular account of the book-collections of consul smith, at p. , ante, to render any farther discussion superfluous. as these libraries were collected _abroad_, the catalogues of them were arranged in the place here referred to.] [footnote : i am now to notice, in less romantic manner than lysander, a collection of books, in _english literature_, which, for rarity and value, in a proportionate number, have never been equalled; i mean the library of james west, esq., _president of the royal society_. the sale commenced on march , , and continued for the twenty-three following days. the catalogue was digested by samuel paterson, a man whose ability in such undertakings has been generally allowed. the title was as follows: "bibliotheca westiana; _a catalogue of the curious and truly valuable library of the late_ james west, esq., _president of the royal society, deceased_; comprehending a choice collection of books in various languages, and upon most branches of polite literature: more especially such as relate to the history and antiquities of great britain and ireland; their early navigators, discoverers, and improvers, and the _ancient english literature_: of which there are a great number of uncommon books and tracts, elucidated by ms. notes and original letters, and embellished with scarce portraits and devices, rarely to be found: including the works of caxton, lettou, machlinia, the anonymous st. albans school-master, wynkyn de worde, pynson, and the rest of the old english typographers. digested by samuel paterson, and sold by messrs. langfords." the title-page is succeeded by the preface. "the following catalogue exhibits a very curious and uncommon collection of printed books and tracts. of british history and antiquities, and of _rare old english literature_, the most copious of any which has appeared for several years past; formed with great taste, and a thorough knowledge of authors and characters, by that judicious critic and able antiquary the late james west, esq., president of the royal society. several anonymous writers are herein brought to light--many works enlarged and further explained by their respective authors and editors--and a far greater number illustrated with the ms. notes and observations of some of our most respectable antiquaries: among whom will be found the revered names of camden, selden, spelman, somner, dugdale, gibson, tanner, nicolson, gale, le neve, hearne, anstis, lewis, st. amand, ames, browne, willis, stukely, mr. west, &c. but, above all, the intense application and unwearied diligence of the admirable bishop white kennett, upon the ecclesiastical, monastical, constitutional, and topographical history of great britain, so apparent throughout this collection, furnish matter even to astonishment; and are alone sufficient to establish the reputation, and to perpetuate the memory, of this illustrious prelate, without any other monuments of his greatness." "in an age of general inquiry, like the present, when studies less interesting give place to the most laudable curiosity and thirst after investigating every particular relative to the history and literature of our own country, nothing less than an elaborate digest of this valuable library could be expected; and, as a supplement to the history of english literature, more desired." "that task the editor has cheerfully undertaken: and, he flatters himself, executed as well as the short time allowed would permit. he further hopes, to the satisfaction of such who are capable of judging of its utility and importance." "the lovers of engraved english portraits (a species of modern connoisseurship which appears to have been first started by the late noble earl of oxford, afterwards taken up by mr. west, mr. nicolls, editor of cromwell's state-papers, mr. ames, &c., and since perfected by the muse of strawberry-hill, the rev. wm. granger, and some few more ingenious collectors) may here look to find a considerable number of singular and scarce heads, and will not be disappointed in their search." thus much paterson; who, it must be confessed, has promised more than he has performed: for the catalogue, notwithstanding it was the _second_ which was published (the first being by a different hand, and most barbarously compiled) might have exhibited better method and taste in its execution. never were rare and magnificent books more huddled together and smothered, as it were, than in this catalogue. let us now proceed to an analysis of mr. west's collection. . _volumes of miscellaneous tracts._ these volumes extend from no. to , from to , from to , and from no. to .--among them are some singularly choice and curious articles. the following is but an imperfect specimen. no. . atkyns on printing, _with the frontispiece_, &c., &c., to. . g. whetstone's honorable profession of a soldier, , &c., to. . life and death of wolsey, , &c. . nashe's lenten stuffe, with the praise of the red herring, , &c. to. (the three articles together did not exceed) £ _s._ _d._ . a mornynge remembrance, had at the moneth mynde of the noble prynces countesse of rychmonde, &c. wynkyn de worde, &c. to. . oh! read over dr. john bridges, for it is a worthie worke, &c. bl. letter, &c. to. strange and fearful newes from plasto, near bow, in the house of one paul fox, a silk weaver, where is daily to be seene throwing of stones, bricbats, oyster-shells, bread, cutting his work in pieces, breaking his windows, &c. _no date_, to. . leylande's journey and serche, given of hym as a newe yeares gyfte to k. henry th, enlarged by bale, bl. letter, , vo., (with three other curious articles.) . a disclosing of the great bull and certain calves that he hath gotten, and especially the monster bull that roared at my lord byshop's gate. bl. letter, pr. by daye. no date. to. the preceding affords but a very inadequate idea of the "pithie, pleasant, and profitable" discourses mid tracts which abounded among the miscellaneous articles of mr. west's library. whatever be the defects of modern literature, it must be allowed that we are not _quite so coarse_ in the _title pages_ of our books. . _divinity._ this comprehended a vast mass of information, under the following general title. scarce tracts: old and new testaments (including almost all the first english editions of the new testament, which are now of the rarest occurrence): commentators: ecclesiastical history: polemics: devotions, catholic and calvinistical: enthusiasm: monastical history: lives of saints: fathers: missionaries: martyrs: modern divines and persons of eminent piety: free thinkers: old english primers: meditations: some of the earliest popish and puritanical controversy: sermons by old english divines, &c. in the whole articles: probably about volumes. these general heads are sufficient to satisfy the bibliographer that, with such an indefatigable collector as was mr. west, the greater part of the theological books must have been extremely rare and curious. from so _many caxtons_, _wynkyn de wordes_, _pynsons, &c._, it would be difficult to select a _few_ which should give a specimen of the value of the rest. suffice it to observe that such a cluster of _black letter gems_, in this department of english literature, has never since been seen in any sale catalogue. . _education, languages, criticism, classics, dictionaries, catalogues of libraries, &c._ there were about volumes in these departments. the catalogues of english books, from that of maunsell in , to the latest before mr. west's time, were nearly complete. the treatises on education, and translations of the ancient classics, comprehended a curious and uncommon collection. the greek and latin classics were rather select than rare. . _english poetry, romances, and miscellanies._ this interesting part of the collection comprehended about articles, or probably about volumes: and, if the singularly rare and curious books which may be found _under these heads alone_ were now to be concentrated in one library, the owner of them might safely demand guineas for such a treasure! i make no doubt but that his majesty is the fortunate possessor of the greater number of articles under all the foregoing heads. . _philosophy, mathematics, inventions, agriculture, and horticulture, medicine, cookery, surgery, &c._ two hundred and forty articles, or about volumes. . _chemistry, natural history, astrology, sorcery, gigantology._ probably not more than volumes. the word "gigantology," first introduced by mr. paterson, i believe, into the english language, was used by the french more than two centuries ago. see no. in the catalogue. . _history and antiquities._ this comprehended a great number of curious and valuable productions, relating both to foreign and domestic transactions. . _heraldry and genealogy._ an equal number of curious and scarce articles may be found under these heads. . _antient legends and chronicles._ to the english antiquary, few departments of literature are more interesting than this. mr. west seems to have paid particular attention to it, and to have enriched his library with many articles of this description of the rarest occurrence. the lovers of caxton, fabian, hardyng, hall, grafton, and holinshed, may be highly gratified by inspecting the various editions of these old chroniclers. i entreat the diligent bibliographer to examine the first articles of page of the catalogue. alas! when will such gems again glitter at one sale? the fortunate period for collectors is gone by: a knowledge of books almost every where prevails. at york, at exeter, at manchester, and at bristol, as well as in london, this knowledge may be found sometimes on the dusty stall, as well as in the splendid shop. the worth of books begins to be considered by a different standard from that of the quantity of gold on the exterior! we are now for "_drinking deep_," as well as "_tasting_!" but i crave pardon for this digression, and lose sight of mr. west's _uniques_. . _topography._ even to a veteran like the late mr. gough, such a collection as may be found from p. to of the catalogue, would be considered a very first-rate acquisition. i am aware that the gothic wainscot and stained glass windows of _enfield study_ enshrined a still more exquisite topographical collection! but we are improved since the days of mr. west; and every body knows to _whom_ these improvements are, in a great measure, to be attributed! when i call to mind the author of "_british topography_" and "_sepulchral monuments_," i am not insensible to the taste, diligence, and erudition of the "par nobile fratrum," who have gratified us with the "_environs of london_," and the three volumes of "_magna britannia_!" catalogues of mr. west's library, with the sums for which the books were sold, are now found with difficulty, and bring a considerable price. the late mr. g. baker, who had a surprisingly curious collection of priced catalogues, was in possession of the _original sale_ one of west's library. it is interleaved, and, of course, has the prices and names of the purchasers. mr. heber has also a priced copy, with the names, which was executed by my industrious and accurate predecessor, william herbert, of typographico-antiquarian renown. the number of articles, on the whole, was ; and of the volumes as many articles were single, probably about . _ample_ as some "pithy" reader may imagine the foregoing analysis to be, i cannot find it in my heart to suffer such a collection, as was the _bibliotheca westiana_, to be here dismissed in so _summary_ a manner. take, therefore, "pleasaunt" reader, the following account of the _prices_ for which some of the aforesaid book-gems were sold. they are presented to thee as a matter of curiosity only; and not as a criterion of their present value. and as master caxton has of late become so popular amongst us, we will see, inter alios, what some of the books printed by so "simple a person" produced at this renowned sale. no. . salesbury (wyllyam) his dictionary in englyshe and welshe, moste necessary to all such welshemen as wil spedly learne the english tongue, &c. _printed by waley_, , to. £ _s._ _d._ . mulcaster (rich.) of the right writing of our english tung. _imp. by vautrollier_, , to. . florio's frutes to be gathered of trees of divers but delyghtfule tastes to the tongues of italians and englishmen, also his garden of recreation, &c., , to. . eliot's indian grammar, _no title_. thus much for grammatical tracts. . the fyve bokes of moses, wythe the prologes of wyllyam tyndale, b.b. , _printed in different characters at different periods_, vo. . the actes of the apostles translated into englyshe metre, by chrystofer tye, doctor in musyke, with notes to synge, and also to play upon the lute. _printed by seres_, , mo. . the newe testament, with the prologes of wyllyam tyndale, cuts, printed at andwarp, &c., , mo. . the same, with the same cuts, emprynted at antwerpe, by m. crom, , _a fine copy, in morocco binding_ (title wanting). . the gospels of the fower evangelists, translated in the olde saxons tyme, &c. sax. and eng. imprinted by daye, , to. . the discipline of the kirk of scotlande, subscribet by the handes off superintendentes, one parte off ministers, and scribet in oure generalle assemblies ad edenbourg, decemb., . _no title._ to. . the most sacred bible, recognised with great diligence by richard taverner, &c., _printed by byddell for barthelet, , in russia_. . the byble in englyshe of the largest and greatest volume, &c. _printed by grafton_, , folio. . speculum vite christi, the booke that is cleped the myrroure of the blessed lyf of jhesu cryste, _emprynted by caxton_, fol., _no date, fine copy in morocco_. . the prouffytable boke for mannes soule, &c., _emprynted by caxton_, fol., no date, a fine copy in morocco. . cordyale, or of the fowre last thynges, &c., _emprynted by caxton_, , fol., _fine copy in morocco_. . the pylgremage of the sowle, &c., , folio, _emprynted by caxton_. . the booke entytled and named ryal, &c., _translated and printed by caxton_, , _fine morocco copy_. . the arte and crafte to knowe well to dye; _translated and prynted by caxton_, , folio. so take we leave of divinity! . hall's virgidemiarum, lib. vi. , , mo. "mr. pope's copy, who presented it to mr. west, telling him that he esteemed them the best poetry and truest satire in the english language." (n.b. these satires were incorrectly published in , vo.: a republication of them, with pertinent notes, would be very acceptable.) . churchyard's works; vols. in , _very elegant_, bl. letter. . the passe tyme of pleasure, &c., _printed by wynkyn de worde_, , to., fine copy. . merie conceited jests of george peele, gent. , to. robin the devil, his two penni-worth of wit in half a penni-worth of paper, &c., , to. . the hye waye to the spyttell hous; printed by the compyler rob. copland, no date. . another copy of the spyttell house; "a thousande fyve hundredth fortye and foure," no printer's name, mark, or date, to. here begynneth a lytell propre jest, called cryste crosse me spede, a b c. . chaucer's work; first edition, _emprentyd by caxton_, folio, _in russia_. . ---- troylus and creseyde, _printed b [transcriber's note: by] caxton_, folio. . ---- booke of fame, _printed by caxton_, folio. . gower de confessione amantis; _printed by caxton_, , folio, _in morocco_. . the bokys of haukyng and hunting; _printed at seynt albons_, , _folio: fine copy in morocco_. and here farewell poetry! . the booke of the moste victoryouse prynce, guy of warwick. _impr. by w. copland_, to. . the historye of graunde amoure and la bell pucel, &c. _impr. by john wayland_, , to. . the historye of olyver of castylle, &c. _impr. by wynkyn de worde_, , to. . the booke of the ordre of chyvalry or knyghthode. _translated and printed by william caxton_; no date, a fine copy in russia, to. (shall i put one, or one hundred marks--not of admiration but of astonishment--at this price?! but go on kind reader!) . the boke of jason: _emprynted by caxton_, folio. . the boke of fayttes of armes and of chyvalrye, _emprynted by caxton_, , folio. . thystorye, &c., of the knyght parys, and of the fayre vyenne, &c. , fol., _translated and printed by caxton_. [illustration: caxton.] but why should i go on tantalising the s----s, h----s, s----s, r----s, and u----s, of the day, by further specimens of the _enormous_ sums here given for such _common_ editions of old romances? mr. george nicol, his majesty's bookseller, told me, with his usual pleasantry and point, that he got abused in the public papers, by almon and others, for his having purchased nearly the whole of the caxtonian volumes in this collection for his majesty's library. it was said abroad that "a scotchman had lavished away the king's money in buying old black-letter books." a pretty specimen of _lavishing_ away royal money, truly! there is also another thing, connected with these _invaluable_ (i speak as a bibliomaniac--and, perhaps, as a metaphysician may think--as a fool! but let it pass!) with these invaluable purchases:--his majesty, in his directions to mr. nicol, forbade any competition with those purchasers who wanted books of science and belles-lettres for their _own professional_ or _literary_ pursuits: thus using, i ween, the powers of his purse in a manner at once merciful and wise.--"o si sic"--may we say to many a heavy-metalled book-auction bibliomaniac of the present day!--old tom payne, the father of the respectable mr. payne, of pall-mall, used to tell mr. nichol--_pendente hastâ_--that he had been "raising all the caxtons!" "many a copy," quoth he, "hath _stuck_ in my shop at two guineas!" mr. nichols, in his amusing biography of bowyer, has not devoted so large a portion of his pages to the description of mr. west's collection, life, and character, as he has to many collectors who have been less eminently distinguished in the bibliographical world. whether this was the result of the paucity, or incongruity, of his materials, or whether, from feelings of delicacy he might not choose to declare all he knew, are points into which i have neither right nor inclination to enquire. there seems every reason to conclude that, from youth, west had an elegant and well-directed taste in matters of literature and the fine arts. as early as the year , he shewed the munificence of his disposition, in these respects, by befriending hearne with a plate for his _antiquities of glastonbury_; see p. --which was executed, says hearne, "sumptibus ornatissimi amicissimique juvenis (multis sane nominibus de studiis nostris optime meriti) jacobi west," &c. so in his pref. to _adam de domerham de reb. gest. glaston_:--"antiquitatum ac historiarum nostrarum studiosus in primis--jacobus west." p. xx. and in his _walter hemingford_, we have:--"fragmentum, ad civitatem oxoniensem pertinens, admodum egregium, mihi dono dedit amicus eximius jacobus west--is quem alibi juvenem ornatissimum appellavi," &c., p. . how the promise of an abundant harvest, in the mature years of so excellent a young man, was realized, the celebrity of west, throughout europe, to his dying day, is a sufficient demonstration. i conclude with the following; which is literally from nichols's _anecdotes of bowyer_. "james west, of alscott, in the county of warwick, esq., m.a., of baliol college, oxford, (son of richard west, said to be descended, according to family tradition, from leonard, a younger son of thomas west, lord delawar, who died in ) was representative in parliament for st. alban's, in ; and being appointed one of the joint secretaries of the treasury, held that office till . in or , his old patron the duke of newcastle, obtained for him a pension of _l._ a year. he was an early member, and one of the vice presidents, of the antiquary society; and was first treasurer, and afterwards president, of the royal society. he married the daughter and heiress of sir thomas stephens, timber merchant, in southwark, with whom he had a large fortune in houses in rotherhithe; and by whom he had a son, james west, esq., now ( ) of alscott, one of the auditors of the land-tax, and sometime member of parliament for boroughbridge, in yorkshire (who in married the daughter of christopher wren, of wroxhall in warwickshire, esq.), and had two daughters. mr. west died in july, . his large and valuable collection of manuscripts was sold to the _earl of shelburne_, and is now deposited in the british museum."] loren. all hail to thee--transcendant bibliomaniac of other times!--of times, in which my father lived, and procured, at the sale of thy precious book-treasures, not a few of those rare volumes which have so much gladdened the eyes of lisardo. belin. i presume you mean, dear brother, some of those _black-looking_ gentlemen, bound in fancifully marked coats of morocco, and _washed_ and _ironed_ within (for you collectors must have recourse to a woman's occupation) with so much care and nicety that even the eyes of our ancient rebecca, with "spectacle on nose" to boot, could hardly detect the cunning' conceit of your binder! loren. spare my feelings and your own reputation, if you wish to appreciate justly the noble craft of book-repairing, &c.--but proceed, dear lysander. lysand. you cannot have a greater affection towards the memory of the collector of the _bibliotheca westiana_ than myself. hark--! or is it only a soft murmur from a congregation of autumnal zephyrs!--but methought i heard a sound, as if calling upon us to look well to the future fate of our libraries--to look well to their being _creditably catalogued_--"for" (and indeed it _is_ the voice of west's spirit that speaks) "my collection was barbarously murdered; and hence i am doomed to wander for a century, to give warning to the ----, ----, and ----, of the day, to execute this useful task with their own hands! yes; even the name of paterson has not saved my collection from censure; but his hands were then young and inexperienced--yet i suffer from this innocent error!" away, away, vexed spirit--and let thy head rest in peace beneath the sod! alman. for heaven's sake, into what society are we introduced, sister? all mad--book mad! but i hope harmless. lysand. allay your apprehensions; for, though we may have the energies of the lion, we have the gentleness of the "unweaned lamb." but, in describing so many and such discordant characters, how can i proceed in the jog-trot way of--"next comes such a one--and then follows another--and afterwards proceeds a third, and now a fourth!?" alman. sir, you are right, and i solicit your forgiveness. if i have not sufficient bookish enthusiasm to fall down and worship your caxtonian deity, james west, i am at least fully disposed to concede him every excellent and amiable quality which sheds lustre upon a literary character. lysand. all offence is expiated: for look, the spirit walks off calmly--and seems to acknowledge, with satisfaction, such proper sentiments in the breast of one whose father and brother have been benefited by his book treasures. the rapturous, and, i fear you will think, the wild and incoherent, manner in which i have noticed the sale of the _bibliotheca westiana_ had nearly driven from my recollection that, in the preceding, the same, and subsequent, year, there was sold by auction a very curious and extraordinary collection of books and prints belonging to honest tom martin,[ ] _of palgrave_, in suffolk: a collector of whom, if i remember rightly, herbert has, upon several occasions, spoken with a sort of veneration. if lavater's system of physiognomy happen to receive your approbation, you will conclude, upon contemplating tom's frank countenance--of which a cut precedes the title-page of the first catalogue--that the collector of palgrave must have been "a fine old fellow." martin's book-pursuits were miscellaneous, and perhaps a little too wildly followed up; yet some good fortune contributed to furnish his collection with volumes of singular curiosity. [footnote : "hereafter followeth" rather a rough outline of the contents of honest tom martin's miscellaneous and curious collection. to the ivth part i have added a few prices, and but a few. i respect too much the quiet and comfort of the present race of bibliomaniacs, to inflame their minds by a longer extract of such tantalizing sums given for some of the most extraordinary volumes in english literature.----i. _a catalogue of the library of_ mr. thomas martin, _of palgrave, in suffolk, lately deceased. lynn, printed by w. whittingham_, , vo. with a portrait engraved by lamborn, from a painting of bardwell. articles; with pages of appendix, containing mss.----no. . juliana barnes on hawking, &c., black-letter, wants a leaf, folio. . chauncey's history of hertfordshire, with marginal notes, by p. le neve, esq., , folio. . scriptores rerum brunsvicensium, vols. folio, . ("n.b. only sets in england at the accession of geo. iii.")----ii. _a catalogue of the very curious and numerous collection of manuscripts of_ thomas martin, esq., _of suffolk, lately deceased_. consisting of pedigrees, genealogies, heraldic papers, old deeds, charters, sign manuals, autographs, &c., likewise some very rare old printed books. sold by auction by baker and leigh, april , , vo. the mss. (of many of which edmonson was a purchaser) consisted of articles, ending with "the o's, in old english verse--st. bridget." among the volumes only of "scarce printed books" were the following:--no. . edwards' paradyse of daynty devices, . . the holy life of saynt werburge, printed by pynson, . the lyfe of saynte radegunde, by pynson. lyfe of saynt katherine, printed by waley, to.----iii. _a catalogue of the remaining part of the valuable collection of the late well known antiquary_, mr. martin, _of palgrave, suffolk_: consisting of many very valuable and ancient manuscripts on vellum, early printed black-letter books, and several other scarce books; his law library, deeds, grants, and pedigrees; a valuable collection of drawings and prints, by the best masters--and his collection of greek, roman, saxon, and english coins--with some curiosities. sold by auction by baker and leigh, th may, . vo. this collection consisted of articles, exclusively of the coins, &c., which were in number. among the printed books were several very curious ones; such as----no. . the death and martyrdom of campione the jesuite, , vo. . heywood's "if you know not me, you know nobody," , to. "this has a wood-cut of the whole length of q. elizabeth, and is very scarce." . fabyan's chronicle. this i take it was the first edition. . promptuarium parvulorum. pynson, folio, . see hearne's peter langtoft, vol. ii., - . . dives et pauper; yis tretyys ben dyvydit into elevene partys, and ev'ry part is dyvidit into chapitalis. "the above extremely curious and valuable manuscript on vellum is wrote on pages. vide leland, vol. ii., : bale, . pits, . ms., to." . original proclamations of q. elizabeth, folio. "a most rare collection, and of very great value: the earl of oxford once offered mr. martin one hundred guineas for them, which he refused." qu. what they sold for? . the pastyme of the people; the cronycles of dyvers realmys, and most specyally of the realme of englond, &c., by john rastell. an elegant copy, in the original binding, large folio, black-letter, london, . "supposed to be only two or three copies existing;" but see page , ante. the folio manuscripts, extending to no. , are very curious; especially the first numbers.----iv. _bibliotheca martiniana. a catalogue of the entire library of the late eminent antiquary_ mr. thomas martin, _of suffolk_. containing some thousand volumes in every language, art, and science, a large collection of the scarcest early printers, and some hundreds of manuscripts, &c., which will begin to be sold very cheap, on saturday, june ( ). by martin booth and john berry, booksellers, at their warehouse in the angel yard, market place, norwich, and continue on sale only two months: vo. this catalogue is full of curious, rare, and interesting books; containing articles; all priced. take, as a sample, the following: no. . wynkyn de worde's reprint of juliana berners' book of hawking, &c., , folio, _l._ _s._ _d._: no. . copland's ditto of ditto, fair _s._ _d._ . a collection of old romances in the dutch language, with wood-cuts, very fair, to , folio . horace's art of poetry, by drant, , to. . a certayne tragedye, &c., entitled, freewil, wants title, very fair and scarce, to. . historie of prince arthur and his knights of the round table, , to. . the life off the archbishopp off canterbury presentlye sittinge, &c. imprinted in , vo., neat a severe satire against parker, abp. of canterbury, for which 'tis said the author was punished with the loss of his arm. . amorous tales, by james sanforde, very rare, printed by bynneman, , mo. (or small vo. perhaps) . hereafter followeth a little boke whyche hath to name whye come ye not to court: by mayster skelton; printed by anthony kytson, no date. a little boke of philip sparrow, compiled by mayster skelton; printed by ant. veale, no date, very fair, both vo. "this is a most extraordinarily scarce edition of skelton's pieces, and has besides these, some other fragments of his by various early printers."] but i proceed. the commotions excited in the book world, by means of the sales of the _bibliotheca westiana_ and _martiniana_, had hardly ceased, when a similar agitation took place from the dispersion of the _monastic library_ which once belonged to serjeant fletewode;[ ] a bibliomaniac who flourished in full vigour during the reign of elizabeth. the catalogue of these truly curious books is but a sorry performance; but let the lover of rare articles put on his bathing corks, and swim quietly across this ocean of black-letter, and he will be abundantly repaid for the toil of such an aquatic excursion. [footnote : the year following the sale of mr. west's books, a very curious and valuable collection, chiefly of english literature, was disposed of by auction, by paterson, who published the catalogue under the following title: "bibliotheca monastico-fletewodiana." "_a catalogue of rare books and tracts in various languages and faculties; including the ancient conventual library of missenden abbey, in buckinghamshire_; together with some choice remains of that of the late eminent serjeant at law, william fletewode, esq., recorder of london, in the reign of queen elizabeth; among which are several specimens of the earliest typography, foreign and english, including caxton, wynkyn de worde, pynson, and others: a fine collection of english history, some scarce old law books, a great number of old english plays, several choice mss. upon vellum, and other subjects of literary curiosity. also several of the best editions of the classics, and modern english and french books. sold by auction by s. paterson, december," , vo., lots, or articles. i am in possession of a _priced catalogue_ of this collection, with the names of the purchasers. the latter were principally herbert, garrick, dodd, elmsley, t. payne, richardson, chapman, wagstaff, bindley, and gough. the following is a specimen of some curious and interesting articles contained in this celebrated library: no. . bale's brefe chronycle relating to syr johan oldecastell, . the life off the th archbishop off canterbury, presentlye sittinge, , &c. life of hen. hills, printer to o. cromwell, with the relation of what passed between him and the taylor's wife in black friars, , vo., &c. £ _s._ _d._ purchased by mores. to . upwards of thirty _scarce theological tracts_, in latin and english. to . a fine collection of early english translations, in black letter, with some good foreign editions of the classics. not exceeding, in the whole , . two copies of the _first edition_ of bacon's essays, . mirabile dictu! the reader will just glance at no. , in the catalogue, en passant, to . ( _l._ _s._) and ( _s._) but more particularly to . the boke of tulle of olde age, &c. _emprynted by caxton_, , folio . the boke which is sayd or called cathon, &c. _printed by the same_, , folio. purchased by alchorne . the doctrinal of sapyence, _printed by the same_, , folio. purchased by alchorne . the booke named the cordyal, _printed by the same_, , folio but there is no end to these curious volumes. i will, however, only add that there were upwards of articles of _old plays_, mostly in quarto. see page . of _antiquities_, _chronicles_, and _topography_, it would be difficult to pitch upon the rarest volumes. the collection, including very few mss., contained probably about volumes. the catalogue, in a clean condition, is somewhat uncommon.] you will imagine that the book-disease now began to be more active and fatal than ever; for the ensuing year (namely, in ) died the famous anthony askew, m.d. those who recollect the zeal and scholarship of this illustrious bibliomaniac,[ ] and the precious volumes with which his library was stored, from the choice collections of de boze, gaignat, mead, and folkes, cannot but sigh, with grief of heart, on reflecting upon such a victim! how ardently, and how kindly (as i remember to have heard one of his intimate friend [transcriber's note: friends] say) would askew unlock the stores of his glittering book-treasures!--open the magnificent folio, or the shining duodecimo, _printed upon vellum_, and embossed with golden knobs, or held fast with silver clasps! how carefully would he unrol the curious _manuscript_, decipher the half effaced characters--and then, casting an eye of ecstacy over the shelves upon which similar treasures were lodged, exult in the glorious prospect before him! but death--who, as horace tells us, equally exercises the knocker of the palace and cottage-door, made no scruple to rap at that of our renowned doctor--when askew, with all his skill in medicine and knowledge of books, yielded to the summons of the grim tyrant--and died lamented, as he lived beloved! [footnote : lysander is now arrived, pursuing his chronological order, at a very important period in the annals of book-sales. the name and collection of dr. askew are so well known in the bibliographical world that the reader need not be detained with laboured commendations on either: in the present place, however, it would be a cruel disappointment not to say a word or two by way of preface or prologue. dr. anthony askew had eminently distinguished himself by a refined taste, a sound knowledge, and an indefatigable research, relating to every thing connected with grecian and roman literature. it was to be expected, even during his life, as he was possessed of sufficient means to gratify himself with what was rare, curious, and beautiful, in literature and the fine arts, that the public would one day be benefited by such pursuits: especially as he had expressed a wish that his treasures might be unreservedly submitted to sale, after his decease. in this wish the doctor was not singular. many eminent collectors had indulged it before him: and, to my knowledge, many modern ones still indulge it. accordingly, on the death of dr. askew, in , appeared, in the ensuing year, a catalogue of his books for sale, by messrs. baker and leigh, under the following title: "bibliotheca askeviana, _sive catalogus librorum rarissimorum antonii askew, m.d., quorum auctio fiet apud s. baker et g. leigh, in vico dicto york street, covent garden, londini, die lunæ, februarii_, mdcclxxv, _et in undeviginti sequentes dies_." a few copies were struck off on _large paper_, which are yet rather common. my own copy is of this kind, with the prices, and names of the purchasers. we are told, by the compiler of the catalogue, that it was thought "unnecessary to say much with respect to this library of the late dr. anthony askew, as the collector and the collection were so well known in almost all parts of europe." afterwards it is observed that "the books in general are in very fine condition, many of them bound in morocco, and russia leather, with gilt leaves." "to give a particular account," continues the compiler, "of the _many scarce editions_ of books in this catalogue would be almost endless, therefore the _first editions_ of the classics, and some _extremely rare books_, are chiefly noticed. the catalogue, without any doubt, contains the best, rarest, and most valuable collection of greek and latin books that was ever sold in england, and the great time and trouble of forming it will, it is hoped, be a sufficient excuse for the price put to it." ( _s._ _d._ the small paper, and _s._ the large.) this account is not overcharged. the collection in regard to greek and roman literature was _unique_ in its day. enriched with many a tome from the harleian, dr. mead's, martin folkes's, and dr. rawlinson's library, as well as with numerous rare and splendid articles from foreign collections (for few men travelled with greater ardour, or had an acuter discrimination than dr. askew), the books were sought after by almost every one then eminent for bibliographical research. his majesty was a purchaser, says mr. j. nichols, to the amount of about _l._; dr. hunter, to the amount of _l._; and de bure (who had commissions from the king of france and many foreign collectors, to the amount of _l._) made purchases to the same amount; dr. maty was solicited by the trustees of the british museum not to be unmindful of _that repository_; and accordingly he became a purchaser to a considerable amount. the late worthy and learned mr. m. cracherode, whose library now forms one of the most splendid acquisitions of the british museum, and whose _bequest_ of it will immortalize his memory, was also among the "emptores literarii" at this renowned sale. he had enriched his collection with many an "_exemplar askevianum_;" and, in his latter days, used to elevate his hands and eyes, and exclaim against the prices _now_ offered for editiones principes. the fact is, dr. askew's sale has been considered a sort of _era_ in bibliography. since that period, rare and curious books in greek and latin literature have been greedily sought after, and obtained (as a recent sale abundantly testifies) at most extravagant prices. it is very well for a veteran in bibliographical literature, as was mr. cracherode, or as are mr. wodhull, and dr. gosset--whose collections were, in part, formed in the days of de bure, gaignat, askew, duke de la valliere, and lamoignon--it is very well for such gentlemen to declaim against _modern prices_! but what is to be done? classical books grow scarcer every day, and the love of literature, and of possessing rare and interesting works, increases in an equal ratio. hungry bibliographers meet, at sales, with well-furnished purses, and are resolved upon sumptuous fare! thus the hammer _vibrates_, after a bidding of forty pounds, where formerly it used regularly to _fall_ at four! but we lose sight of dr. askew's _rare editions_, and _large paper copies_. the following, gentle reader, is but an imperfect specimen! no. . chaucer's works, by _pynson_, no date £ _s._ _d._ . cicero of old age, by caxton, . gilles (nicole) annales, &c., de france. paris, fol. , tom. sur velin . Æginetæ (pauli) præcepta salubria; paris, quarto, . on vellum . Æsopi fabulæ. _edit. princeps circ._ . boccacio, il teseide, _ferar._, . _prima edizione_ [this copy, which is called, "_probably unique_," was once, i suspect, in consul smith's library. see _bibl. smith_, p. lxiii. the reader will find some account of it in warton's history of engl. poetry, vol. i., . it was printed, as well as the subsequent editions of , and , "with some deviations from the original, and even misrepresentations of the story." his majesty was the purchaser of this precious and uncommon book.] . cornelius nepos, . _edit. prin._ . alexander de ales, super tertium sententiar. , on vellum . anthologia græca. _edit. prin._ , on vellum in dr. hunter's museum. . ammianus marcellinus, . _edit. prin._ . ciceronis opera omnia, oliveti, vols. quarto, , _charta maxima_ . ejusdem officia, . _edit. prin._ . catullus, tibullus, et propertius; aldi, vo., . in membranis this copy was purchased by the late mr. m.c. cracherode, and is now, with his library, in the british museum. it is a beautiful book; but cannot be compared with lord spencer's aldine vellum virgil, of the same size. . durandi rationale, &c., . in membranis the beginning of the st chapter was wanting. lord spencer has a perfect copy of this rare book, printed upon spotless vellum. . platonis opera, apud aldum; vols., fol., . _edit. prin._ on vellum. purchased by the late dr. william hunter; and is, at this moment, with the doctor's books and curiosities, at _glasgow_. the reader can have no idea of the beauty of these vellum leaves. the ink is of the finest lustre, and the whole typographical arrangement may be considered a masterpiece of printing. if i could forget the magnificent copy which i have seen (but not upon vellum) of the "etymologicum magnum," in the luton library, i should call _this_ the chef-d'oeuvre of the aldine press. . plinii hist. natural; apud spiram, fol., . _edit. princeps._ this copy has been recently sold for a sum considerably less than it brought. it bears no kind of comparison with the copy in lord spencer's, dr. hunter's, and the cracherode, collections. these latter are _giants_ to it! . id. cum notis harduini; , vols., on vellum . tewrdranckhs; poema germanica, norimb. fol., , on vellum. this is a book of uncommon rarity. it is a poetical composition on the life and actions of the emperor maximilian i., and was frequently reprinted; but not with the same care as were the earlier editions of and --the latter, at augsburg, by john schouspergus. koellerus, who purchased a copy of this work on vellum, for crowns, has given a particularly tempting description of it. see schelhorn's "_amoenitates literaræ [transcriber's note: literariæ]_," tom. ii., -iii., . dr. hunter purchased dr. askew's copy, which i have seen in the museum of the former: the wood-cuts, in number, justify every thing said in commendation of them by papillon and heinecken. probably dr. askew purchased the above copy of osborne; for i find one in the _bibl. harleian_, vol. iii., no. . see, too, _bibl. mead_, p. , no. ; where a vellum copy, of the edition of , was sold for _l._ _s._ my friend, mr. douce, has also beautiful copies of the editions of and , upon paper of the finest lustre. it has been a moot point with bibliographers whether the extraordinary type of this book be _wood_, and cut in solid blocks, or moveable types of _metal_. no one is better able to set this point "at rest," as lawyers call it, than the gentleman whose name is here last mentioned. . terentianus maurus de literis, syllabis, et metris horatii. _mediol._ fol., "this is judged to be the only copy of this edition in england, if not in the whole world. dr. askew could find no copy in his travels over europe, though he made earnest and particular search in every library which he had an opportunity of consulting." note in the catalogue. it was purchased by dr. hunter, and is now in his museum. originally it belonged to dr. taylor, the editor of lysias and demosthenes, who originally procured it from the harleian library, for _four_ guineas only. we are told that, during his life, _one hundred_ guineas would not have obtained it! * * * * * rare and magnificent as the preceding articles may be considered, i can confidently assure the reader that they form a very small part of the extraordinary books in dr. askew's library. many a _ten_ and _twenty pounder_ has been omitted--many a _prince_ of an edition passed by unregarded! the articles were in number; probably comprehending about volumes. they were sold for _l._ it remains only to add that dr. askew was a native of kendal, in westmorland; that he practised as a physician there with considerable success, and, on his establishment in london, was visited by all who were distinguished for learning, and curious in the fine arts. dr. mead supported him with a sort of paternal zeal; nor did he find in his _protegé_ an ungrateful son. (see the director, vol. i., p. .) few minds were probably more congenial than were those of mead and askew: the former had, if i may so speak, a magnificence of sentiment which infused into the mind of the latter just notions of a character aiming at _solid intellectual_ fame; without the petty arts and dirty tricks which we now see too frequently pursued to obtain it. dr. askew, with less pecuniary means of gratifying it, evinced an equal ardour in the pursuit of books, mss., and inscriptions. i have heard from a very worthy old gentleman, who used to revel 'midst the luxury of askew's table, that few men exhibited their books and pictures, or, as it is called, _shewed the lions_, better than did the doctor. of his attainments in greek and roman literature it becomes not me to speak, when such a scholar as dr. parr has been most eloquent in their praise. i should observe that the mss. of dr. askew were separately sold in , and produced a very considerable sum. the appendix to scapula, published in an vo. volume, in , was compiied [transcriber's note: compiled] from one of these mss.] after an event so striking and so melancholy, one would think that future _virtuosi_ would have barricadoed their doors, and fumigated their chambers, in order to escape the ravages of the _book-pest_:--but how few are they who profit by experience, even when dearly obtained! the subsequent history of the bibliomania is a striking proof of the truth of this remark: for the disease rather increased, and the work of death yet went on. in the following year ( ) died john ratcliffe;[ ] a bibliomaniac of a very peculiar character. if he had contented himself with his former occupation, and frequented the butter and cheese, instead of the book, market--if he could have fancied himself in a brown peruke, and russian apron, instead of an embroidered waistcoat, velvet breeches, and flowing periwig, he might, perhaps, have enjoyed greater longevity; but, infatuated by the _caxtons_ and _wynkyn de wordes_ of the west and fletewode collections, he fell into the snare; and the more he struggled to disentangle himself, the more certainly did he become a victim to the disease. [footnote : bibliotheca ratcliffiana; or, "_a catalogue of the elegant and truly valuable library of_ john ratcliffe, _esq., late of bermondsey, deceased_. the whole collected with great judgment and expense, during the last thirty years of his life: comprehending a large and most choice collection of the rare old english _black-letter_, in fine preservation, and in elegant bindings, printed by caxton, lettou, machlinia, the anonymous st. alban's schoolmaster, wynkyn de worde, pynson, berthelet, grafton, day, newberie, marshe, jugge, whytchurch, wyer, rastell, coplande, and the rest of the _old english typographers_: several missals and mss., and two pedigrees on vellum, finely illuminated." the title-page then sets forth a specimen of these black-letter gems; among which our eyes are dazzled with a galaxy of caxtons, wynkyn de wordes, pynsons, &c., &c. the sale took place on march , ; although the _year_ is unaccountably omitted by that renowned auctioneer, the late mr. christie, who disposed of them. if ever there was a _unique_ collection, this was one--the very essence of old divinity, poetry, romances, and chronicles! the articles were only in number; but their intrinsic value amply compensated for their paucity. the following is but an inadequate specimen: no. . horace's arte of poetrie, pistles, and satyres, by durant, . _first english. edition_ £ _s._ _d._ . the shepard's calendar, . whetstone's castle of delight, . the pastyme of people, _printed_ by rastell. curious wood-cuts . the chronicles of englande, _printed by caxton_, fine copy, . ditto, _printed at st. albans_, . purchased by dr. hunter, and now in his museum (which copy i have seen) . barclay's shyp of folys, printed by pynson, , _first edit._, a fine copy . the doctrinal of sapyence, _printed by caxton_, . the boke called cathon, _ditto_, . purchased by dr. hunter, and now in his museum . the polytyque boke, named tullius de senectute, in englyshe, _printed by caxton_, . the game of chesse playe. no date. _printed by caxton_ . the boke of jason, _printed by caxton_ . the polychronicon of ranulph higden, translated by trevisa, . _printed by the same_, and purchased by dr. hunter . legenda aurea, or the golden legende. _printed by the same_, . mr. ratcliffe's ms. catalogue of the _rare old black-letter and other curious and uncommon books_, vols. [this would have been the most delicious article to _my_ palate. if the present owner of it were disposed to part with it, i could not find it in my heart to refuse him _compound interest_ for his money. as is the wooden frame-work to the bricklayer, in the construction of his arch, so might mr. ratcliffe's ms. catalogues be to me in the compilation of a certain _magnum opus_!] i beg pardon of the _manes_ of "john ratcliffe, esq.," for the very inadequate manner in which i have brought forward his collection to public notice. the memory of such a man ought to be dear to the "_black-letter-dogs_" of the present day: for he had (mirabile dictu!) _upwards of_ thirty caxtons! i take the present opportunity of presenting the reader with the following engraving of the ratcliffe library, oxon. [illustration] if i might hazard a comparison between mr. james west's and mr. john ratcliffe's collections, i should say that the former was more extensive; the latter more curious. mr. west's, like a magnificent _champagne_, executed by the hand of claude or both, and enclosing mountains, meadows, and streams, presented to the eye of the beholder a scene at once luxuriant and fruitful: mr. ratcliffe's, like one of those confined pieces of scenery, touched by the pencil of rysdael or hobbima, exhibited to the beholder's eye a spot equally interesting, but less varied and extensive: the judgment displayed in both might be the same. the sweeping foliage and rich pasture of the former could not, perhaps, afford greater gratification than the thatched cottage, abrupt declivities, and gushing streams of the latter. to change the metaphor--mr. west's was a magnificent repository; mr. ratcliffe's, a cabinet of curiosities. of some particulars of mr. ratcliffe's life, i had hoped to have found gleanings in mr. nichols's _anecdotes of bowyer_; but his name does not even appear in the index; being probably reserved for the second forth-coming enlarged edition. meanwhile, it may not be uninteresting to remark that, like magliabechi, (vide p. , ante) he imbibed his love of reading and collecting from the accidental possession of scraps and leaves of books. the fact is, mr. ratcliffe once kept a _chandler's shop_ in the borough; and, as is the case with all retail traders, had great quantities of old books brought to him to be purchased at so much _per lb._! hence arose his passion for collecting the _black-letter_, as well as _stilton cheeses_: and hence, by unwearied assiduity, and attention to business, he amassed a sufficiency to retire, and live, for the remainder of his days, upon the luxury of old english literature!] it is with pain that i trace the ravages of the book-mania to a later period. many a heart yet aches, and many a tear is yet shed, on a remembrance of the mortality of this frightful disease. after the purchasers of ratcliffe's treasures had fully perused, and deposited in fit places within their libraries, some of the scarcest volumes in the collection, they were called upon to witness a yet more splendid victim to the bibliomania: i mean, the honourable topham beauclerk.[ ] one, who had frequently gladdened johnson in his gloomy moments; and who is allowed, by that splenetic sage and great teacher of morality, to have united the elegant manners of a gentleman with the mental accomplishments of a scholar. beauclerk's catalogue is a fair specimen of the analytico-bibliographical powers of paterson: yet it must be confessed that this renowned champion of catalogue-makers shines with greater, and nearly perfect, splendour, in the collection of the rev. thomas crofts[ ]--a collection which, taking it "for all in all," i know not whether it be exceeded by any which this country has recorded in the shape of a private catalogue. the owner was a modest, careful, and acutely sagacious bibliomaniac: learned, retired, yet communicative: and if ever you lay hold of a _large paper_ copy of a catalogue of his books, which, as well as the small, carries the printed prices at the end, seize it in triumph, lisardo, for it is a noble volume, and by no means a worthless prize. [footnote : there are few libraries better worth the attention of a scholarlike collector than was the one of the distinguished character above noticed by lysander. the catalogue of beauclerk's books has the following title: "_bibliotheca beauclerkiana; a catalogue of the large and valuable library of the late honourable_ topham beauclerk, f.r.s., _deceased_; comprehending an excellent choice of books, to the number of upwards of , volumes, &c. sold by auction, by mr. paterson, in april, ," vo. the catalogue has two parts: part i. containing ; part _ii._ , pp. the most magnificent and costly volume was the largest paper copy of dr. clarke's edition of cæsar's commentaries, , fol., which was sold for _l._; and of which the binding, according to dr. harwood's testimony, cost _l._ _s._ there is nothing, in _modern_ times, very marvellous in this price of binding. of the _two parts_ of the beauclerk collection, the _second_ is the most valuable to the collector of english antiquities and history, and the _first_ to the general scholar. but let not the bibliomaniac run too swiftly over the first, for at nos. , , he will find two books which rank among the rarest of those in old english poetry. at the close of the second part, there are a few curious manuscripts; three of which are deserving of a description here. part ii. . thomas of arundel, his legend in old english verse; vii parts, with the entre, or prologue: _written a.d. m.c.vii. upon vellum, the capitals illuminated_, fol. here follows a specimen of the verse £ _s._ _d._ _ye fyrst pt of ys yt es of mon and of his urechednes._ _ye secounde pte folowyng es of ye worldes unstabillnes._ _ye yyrdde pt yt is of deth & of peyn yt wt hy geth._ _the ferthe parte is of purgatorye yere soules ben clensed of her folye._ _ye fyfte pt of ys dey of doom & of tokens yt byfore shul coom._ _ye syxte pt of ys boke to telle yt speketh of ye peynes of helle._ _ye seventhe part of joys in heven yat bene more yenne tong may neuen._ . the life and acts of st. edmond, king and martyr, by john lydgate, monk of bury, fol.: _a choice ms. upon vellum, illuminated throughout, and embellished with historical miniatures_. for a specimen of the verse, take the first stanza: _the noble stoory to putte in remembraunce of seynt edmond mayd martre and kyng with his suppoor: my style i wyl avaunce ffirst to compyle afftre my konnyng his gloryous lyff his birthe and his gynnying and by discent how he was soo good was in saxonye borne of the royal blood._ . the armes, honours, matches, and issues of the auncient and illustrious family of veer: described in the honourable progeny of the earles of oxenford and other branches thereof. together with a genealogical deduction of this noble family from the blood of forreyne princes: viz. emperours, kings, dukes, and earles, &c. _gathered out of history, recordes, and other monuments of antiquity, by percivall goulding, gent. the arms illuminated, folio._ i will just add that this catalogue is creditably printed in a good size octavo volume, and that there are copies upon _large paper_. the arrangement of the books is very creditable to the bibliographical reputation of paterson.] [footnote : when the reader is informed that paterson tells us, in the preface of this volume, that "in almost every language and science, and even under the shortest heads, some one or more rare articles occur; but in the copious classes, such as follow, literary curiosity is gratified, is _highly feasted_"--and that the author of this remark used, in his latter days, to hit his knee hard with his open hand, and exclaim--"by g----, crofts' catalogue is my chef d'oeuvre, out and out"--when he reflects, i say, for a minute upon these two bibliographical stimuli, he will hasten (if he have it not already) to seize upon that volume of which the following is but an imperfect specimen of the treasures contained in it: "_bibliotheca croftsiana: a catalogue of the curious and distinguished library of the late reverend and learned_ thomas crofts, a.m., &c. sold by auction, by mr. paterson, in april, ," vo. this collection, containing articles, although not quite so generally useful as the preceding, is admirably well arranged; and evinces, from the rarity of some of the volumes in the more curious departments of literature, the sound bibliographical knowledge and correct taste of mr. crofts: who was, in truth, both a scholar and bibliomaniac of no ordinary reputation. i hasten to treat the reader with the following _excerpta croftsiana_: being a selection of articles from this catalogue, quite according with the present prevailing fashion of book-collecting: no. . raccolta de poeti provenzali ms. antiq. _supermembr._, vo., _cor. turc. avec une table des noms des troubadours contenu dans ce ms._ £ _s._ _d._ . les cent nouvelles nouvelles, _lettres gothiques_, fig. fol., _velin paris, imprimées par nic. desprez_. m.d.v. . le chevalier de la tour. et le guidon des guerres; _lettres gothiques, fig. fol. maroq. rouge, imprimé à paris, pour guil. eustace._ m.d.xiv. . le premier, second, et tiers volume de lancelot du lac; _nouvellement imprimé à paris. l'an mil cinq cens et xx, pour michel le noir; lettres gothiques, fig. fol. maroq. rouge_ . le premier et le second volume du sainct greaal, contenant la conqueste dudict sainct greaal, faicte par lancelot du lac, galaad perceval et boors; _lettres gothiques, fig. fol. maroq. rouge, paris, imprimé par phel le noir_, m.d.xxiii "ce volume est un des plus rares de la classe des romans de chevalerie. t.c." . ci commence guy de warwick chevalier dangleterre qui en son tems fit plusieurs prouesses et conquestes en allemaigne, ytalie, et dannemarche. et aussi sur les infidelles ennemys de la crestienté; _lettres gothiques, fig. fol. maroq. rouge. paris, imprimé par ant. couteau_, m.d.xxv. . le premier et le second volume de merlin, qui est le premier livre de la table ronde, avec plusieurs choses moult recreative: aussi les prophecies de merlin, qui est le tierce partie et derniere: _lettres gothiques, tom. to., maroq. rouge, paris_, m.d.xxviii. . la treselegante, delicieuse, melliflue, et tresplaisante hystoire du tresnoble, victori, et excellentissime roy perceforest, roy de la grand bretaigne, fundateur du francpalais et du temple du souverain dieu. en laquelle lecture pourra veoir la source et decoration de toute chevalerie, culture de vraye noblesse, prouesses, &c. avecques plusieurs propheties, comptes damans, et leur divers fortunes. _lettres gothiques, tom. en fol., paris, chez galliot du pre_, m.d.xxviii. . le tiers, quart, cinquiesme, sixiesme, et dernier volumes des anciennes croniques dangleterre, faictz et gestes du trespreux et redoubte en chevalerie, le noble roy perceforest: _imprimé à paris pour egide gourmont et phil. le noir_, m.d.xxxii. tom. folio . le parangon des nouvelles, honestes et delectables à tous ceulx qui desirent voir et ouyr choses nouvelles et recreatives soubz umbre et couleur de joyeuste, vo. fig. maroq. rouge. _imprimez à lyon, par denys de harsy_, . les parolles joyeuses et dicts memorables des nobles et saiges homes anciens, redigez par le gracieulx et honeste poete messire francoys petrarcque, _fig. ib._ . l'histoire de isaie le triste filz de tristan de leonnoys, jadis chevalier de la table ronde, et de la royne izeut de cornouaille, ensemble les nobles prouesses de chevallerie faictes par marc lexille filz. au dict isaye: _lettres gothiques, avec fig., to., maroq. rouge. on les vend à paris par jehan bonfons_, "there is no direct date either at the beginning or end, nor any privilege annexed to this rare romance. mr. crofts, though extremely accurate, for the most part, has made no remark; neither has the industrious mr. de bure taken notice of this particular edition. the date is, nevertheless, obvious, according to my conjecture. after the words filz du dict isaye, in the general title, at some distance, stand these numerals lxv. c. at first i apprehended they referred to the work, as containing so many chapters; but upon examining the table, i found the romance to consist of chapters: i conclude they must relate to the date of the book, and are to be read lxv. ante m.d.c., or . s.p." . meliadus de leonmoys. du present volume sont contenus les nobles faictz darmes du vaillant roy meliadus. ensemble plusieurs autres nobles proesses de chevalerie faictes tant par le roy artus, palamedes, &c., &c. _lettres gothiques, fig., fol., maroq. bleu, paris, chez galliot du pré_ . lhystoire tresrecreative, traictant des faictz et gestes du noble et vaillant chevalier theseus de coulongne, par sa proesse empereur de rome. et aussi de sons fils gadifer, empereur de grece. pareillement des trois enfans de gadifer, cestassavoir regnault, reynier, et regnesson, &c. _lettres gothiques, avec fig. to., en peau russe. paris, pour jehan bonfons, s.a._ . l'histoire palladienne, traitant des gestes et genereux faitz d'armes et d'armour de plusieurs grandz princes et seigneurs, specialement de palladien filz du roy milanor d'angleterre, et de la belle selenine, &c.; par feu cl. colet champenois, _fig., fol., maroquin jaune. paris, de l'imprimerie d'estien. goulleau_, . hist. du noble tristan prince de leonnois, chevalier de la table ronde, et d'yseulte, princesse d'yrlande, royne de cornouaille; fait francois par jean maugin, dit l'angevin, _fig., to., maroq. rouge, rouen_. . l'hist. du noble et vaillant chevalier paris et la belle vienne, _ to., rouen_ . histoires prodigieuses, extractes de plusieurs fameux autheurs, grecs et latins, par pier boaisteau, cl. de tesserant, f. de belleforest, rod. hoyer, &c., _fig. tom. en , mo., maroq. rouge. par chez la verfue cavellat_, . valentine and orson, cuts, black letter, to. _london; no date_. (not sold.) . hollinshed's (raphe) and william harrison's chronicles of england, scotland, and ireland, continued by john hooker, alias vowell, and others; _black letter, vols. fol., large paper, in russia_, . lynch (jo.) seu gratiani lucii hiberni cambrensis eversus, seu potius historica fides, in rebus hibernicis, giraldo cambrensi abrogata, fol. _impress. an. . sine loco aut nomine impressoris_ "liber inter historicos hibernicos rarissimus et inventu difficilimus, quippe cujus pars maxima exemplarium in incendio periit londinensi. sub lucii gratiani nomine latet verus autor johannes lynch (tuamensis archidiaconus) qui post gallvæ deditionem, exul in gallia hocce opus patriæ vindex composuit. t.c." this catalogue contains articles. there are printed lists of the prices for which each set of books was sold: but i am afraid that an arrant bibliomaniac, like myself (for thus my friends are cruel enough to call me!) will be content only with a _large paper_ copy of it, with the prices neatly penned in the margin. i conclude that lysander recommends the volume in this shape to all tasteful collectors.] lis. but there are surely other large paper---- alman. what can there possibly be in a large paper copy of a _catalogue of books_ which merits the appellation of "nobleness" and "richness?" loren. you are a little out of order. such a question cuts the heart of a bibliographer in twain. pray let lysander pursue his narrative. lysand. i have no sort of objection to such interruptions. but i think the day is not very far distant when females will begin to have as high a relish for _large paper_ copies of every work as their male rivals. now let us go on quietly towards the close of my long-winded bibliomaniacal history. and first let us not fail to pay due respect to the cabinet of literary bijoux collected by that renowned bibliomaniac, mark cephas tutet.[ ] his collection was distinguished by some very uncommon articles of early date, both of foreign and british typography; and, if you take a peep into lorenzo's priced copy of the catalogue containing also the purchasers' names, you will find that most notorious modern bibliomaniacs ran away with the choicest prizes. tutet's catalogue, although drawn up in a meagre and most disadvantageous style, is a great favourite with me; chiefly for the valuable articles which it exhibits. [footnote : _a catalogue of the genuine and valuable collection of printed books and manuscripts of the late_ mark cephas tutet, esq., to be sold by auction by mr. gerard, on wednesday, the th of february, , vo. this library evinces the select taste and accurate judgment of its collector. there were only articles, or lots; but these in general were both curious and valuable. i will give a specimen or two of the tutet cabinet of books. no. . various catalogues of curiosities, elegantly bound in volumes, and a few loose: _most of them priced, with the purchasers' names_. a.d. to , vo. £ _s._ _d._ . two volumes of ancient and modern cards, _eleg. in russia_ [these volumes were purchased by mr. payne's father, and of him by mr. gough. at the sale of the mss. of the latter ( ) they were purchased by mr. robert triphook, bookseller, of st. james's street; with a view of making them instrumental to a work which he is projecting, _upon the history and antiquity of playing cards_.] . broughton's concent of scripture: _printed upon vellum_ . snelling's silver coinage,-- ; ditto gold coinage, ; ditto copper coinage, ; ditto miscellaneous views, ; ditto jettons, : all in folio "these form a complete set of snelling's works in folio, and are interspersed with a great number of very useful and interesting notes and observations, by mr. tutet." . the byble, &c. printed by grafton and whitchurch, , folio [there is a note here by tutet which does not evince any profound knowledge of english etymology.] . rede me and be not wroth, mo., no place nor date . servetus de trinitatis erroribus, _cor. tur._, , mo. . ---- de trinitate divinâ, lond., , to. . the arte and crafte to know well to dye. _printed by caxton_, , folio . hautin, figures des monnoyes de france, , folio . parker de antiq. brit. ecclesiæ, , folio. a long and curious note is here appended . the boke of hawkinge, huntynge, and fysshynge, , fol. . sancta peregrinatio in mont. syon, &c. , folio ["this is the first book of travels that was ever printed. the maps are very remarkable; that of the holy land is above feet long."] . spaccio della bestia trionfante. _paris_, , vo. . expositio sancti jeronimi in symbolum apostolorum, _cor. maur. oxon._, , to. . polychronycon; _printed by caxton_, , to. . pfintzing (melchoir [transcriber's note: melchior]) his german poem of the adventures of the emperor maximilian, under the name of tewrdanckh's. nuremb., , folio . initial letters, vignettes, cul de lampes, &c., vols., _elegantly bound in russia_. [these beautiful books are now in the possession of mr. douce] . bouteroue, recherches curieuses des monnoyes de france: _in morocco, gilt, paris_, , folio . froissart's chronicles; printed by pynson, , folio, vols. _a beautiful copy elegantly bound._ . recule of the hystoryes of troye; _printed by caxton_, ( ) folio. _a very fine copy, and quite complete._ . ciceronis officia, , to. _on paper._ and thus we take leave of that judicious and tasteful bibliomaniac, mark cephas tutet! three months after the sale of the preceding library, appeared the _bibliotheca universalis selecta_ of samuel paterson; containing a collection to be sold by auction in may, . to this catalogue of articles, there is a short (i wish i could add "sweet") preface, which has been extracted in the _gentleman's magazine_, vol. lvi., p. ; and in the _censura literaria_, vol. ii., p. --but, whatever accidental reputation the volume may have received from the notice of it in these periodical works, i deem both the preface and the work itself quite unworthy of paterson's credit. there is an alphabetical index (not always very correct); and a few bibliographical notes are subjoined to the specification of the titles; and these considerations alone will give the book a place in the library of the bibliomaniac. the collection is, in fact, neither universal nor select: and the preface is written in the worst of all styles, containing the most commonplace observations.] the following year, was sold, in a similar way, the select and very curious collection of richard wright, m.d.;[ ] the strength of which lay chiefly in publications relating to the _drama_ and _romances_. it is, in my humble opinion, a most judicious, as well as neatly printed, little catalogue; and not more than a dozen copies of it, i think, were printed upon _large paper_. secure this volume, lisardo, if you wish to add to your riches in english bibliography. [footnote : lysander has not drawn too strong an outline in his picture of the _bibliotheca wrightiana_. the collection was elegant and select. let us say a little more about it. "_a catalogue of the library of_ richard wright, m.d. &c., consisting of an elegant and extensive collection of books in every branch of learning, &c., many of the scarcest editions of the old english poets, novels, and romances; also a most singular assemblage of theatrical writers, including the rarest productions of the english drama." sold by auction by t. and j. egerton, april rd, , vo. the volume is neatly printed, and the books in the collection are arranged in alphabetical order under their respective departments. we will now fill up a little of the aforementioned strong outline of the picture of wright's library: which contained articles. , , - - - - , - - , exhibit a glorious specimen of the ancient english chronicles--which, collectively, did not produce a sum above £ _s._ _d._ . england's parnassus, , vo. . churchyarde's choice, , to. . ---- first part of his chippes, , to. . robert greene's works, vols., _elegantly bound_, to. (containing pieces.) . shyp of folys. _printed by pynson_, , fol. . skelton's works: , vo. . turberville's epitaphs, epigrams, songs and sonnets, , vo. my copy has no price to this article. . thomas nashe's works, in three vols. to., containing pieces to , comprehends _the english theatre_. these numbers exhibit almost every thing that is rare, curious, and valuable in this popular department. i know not how to select stars from such a galaxy of black-letter lustre--but the reader may follow me to the ensuing numbers, which will at least convince him that i am not insensible to the charms of _dramatic bijoux_, nos. - : - - : : - - - : : : - - : (dekker's pieces: in number--sold for _l._ _s._ eheu!) : . (heywood's plays, _l._ _s._) .-- : (marston's pieces, _l._ _s._) . (tragedie of dido, , _l._ _s._ euge!) . (middleton; pieces: _l._ _s._) - . (george peele's: _l._ _s._) : (sackville's ferrex and porrex: _l._ _s._)--but--"quo musa tendis?" i conclude, therefore, with the following detailed _seriatim_. . shakspeare's works; , folio. _first edition; bound in russia leather, with gilt leaves._ . the same; . _second impression._ . the same; . _the same._ . the same; . _third edit. in russia._ . the same; . _fourth edition._ my copy of this catalogue is upon _large paper_, beautifully priced by a friend who "hath an unrivalled pen in this way;" and to whom i owe many obligations of a higher kind in the literary department--but whose modesty, albeit he was born on the banks of the liffey, will not allow me to make the reader acquainted with his name. therefore, "stat nominis umbra:" viz. ----!] loren. was wright's the only collection disposed of at this period, which was distinguished for its dramatic treasures? i think henderson's[ ] library was sold about this time? [footnote : _a catalogue of the library of_ john henderson, esq. (late of covent garden theatre), &c. sold by auction by t. and j. egerton, on february, , vo. do not let the lover of curious books in general imagine that henderson's collection was entirely dramatical. a glance at the contents of page to page , inclusively, will shew that this library contained some very first-rate rarities. when the dramatic collector enters upon page , (to the end of the volume, p. ) i will allow him to indulge in all the _mania_ of this department of literature, "withouten ony grudgynge." he may also ring as many _peals_ as it pleaseth him, upon discovering that he possesses all the copies of a dramatic author, ycleped _george peele_, that are notified at nos. - ! henderson's library was, without doubt, an extraordinary one. as we are upon _dramatic libraries_, let us, for fear lysander should forget it, notice the following, though a little out of chronological order. "_a catalogue, &c., of the late_ mr. james william dodd, of the _theatre royal, drury lane, &c. sold by auction by leigh and sotheby_, jan. , , vo., lots." there was more of the _drama_ in this than in henderson's collection. mr. kemble purchased the dearest volume, which was "whetstone's promos and cassandra," , to. (no. ) for _l._ _s._ mr. george nicol (for the late duke of roxburgh) kept up a tremendous fire at this sale! akin to dodd's, was the "_curious and valuable library of_ george smyth, esq.--sold by leigh and sotheby, june , , vo." there were many uncommon books in this collection, exclusively of those appertaining to the drama; and when i mention, in this latter department--hughes's misfortunes of prince arthur, &c., printed by robinson, , to. (no. ; _l._ _s._), both the parts of shakespeare's henry the fourth ( - , to., nos. - ; _l._ _s._), his much ado about nothing, , to., (no. ; _l._ _s._)--i say enough to sharpen the collector's appetite to obtain, if he have it not, possession of this curious but barbarously printed catalogue. to these, let me add the "_catalogue of a portion of the library of_ william fillingham, esq., _consisting of old quarto plays, early english poetry, and a few scarce tracts, &c., sold by leigh and sotheby_, april , vo." the arrangement of this small catalogue is excellent. many of the books in it are of the rarest occurrence; and, to my knowledge, were in the finest preservation. the collector is no more! he died in india; cut off in the prime of life, and in the midst of his intellectual and book-collecting ardour! he was a man of exceedingly gentlemanlike manners, and amiable disposition; and his taste was, upon the whole, well cultivated and correct. many a pleasant, and many a profitable, hour have i spent in his "delightsome" library!!!] lysand. it was; and if you had not reminded me of it, i should have entirely forgotten it. catalogues of _dramatic libraries_, well arranged, are of great service to the cause of the bibliomania. lis. i wish we could procure some act of parliament to induce the dramatic collectors--by a fair remuneration--to give a well analysed account of their libraries. we should then have the _bibliotheca roxburghiana_, _bibliotheca maloniana_, and what say you to the _bibliotheca kemblëiana_. lysand. you are running wild. let me continue my bibliomaniacal history. we may now advance directly to the exquisite--and shall i say, unparalleled?--library of major pearson![ ] a gentleman, who has far eclipsed the bibliomaniacal reputation of his military predecessor, general dormer. this extraordinary collection was sold by auction the very next year ensuing the sale of dr. wright's books and so thickly and richly is it sprinkled with the black-letter, and other curious lore--so varied, interesting, and valuable, are the departments into which it is divided--that it is no wonder his present majesty, the late duke of roxburgh, and george steevens, were earnest in securing some of the choicest gems contained in the same. such a collection, sold at the present day--when there is such a "_qui vive_" for the sort of literature which it displays--what would it produce? at least four times more, than its sum total, two and twenty years ago! [footnote : if the reader attend only to the above flourishing eulogy, by lysander, upon the extraordinary collection of major, or thomas, pearson, i fear he will not rise from the perusal of these pages impressed with very accurate notions of the same. to qualify such ardent panegyric, and at the same time to please the hearts of all honest bibliomaniacs, i here subjoin something like a sober analysis of the _bibliotheca pearsoniana_. the title to the sale catalogue is as follows: "_biblioth. pearson. a catalogue of the library of_ thomas pearson, esq. _containing a very extensive collection of the best and rarest books in every branch of english literature, &c. sold by auction by t. and j. egerton, in april, _," vo. like all the sale catalogues put forth by the egertons, the present is both judiciously arranged and neatly printed. it is said that there are only twelve copies upon _large paper_; but i doubt the smallness of this number. my own is of this kind, superbly bound, and priced with a neatness peculiar to the calligraphical powers of the 'forementioned friend. it may not be amiss to prefix an extract from a newspaper of the day; in which this sale was thus noticed: "the black-lettero-mania, which raged so furiously in the course of last spring at the sale of dr. wright's books, has broken out with still greater violence at the present auction of major pearson's library. this assertion may be countenanced by the following examples." then follow a few specimens of the prices given. the reader is now presented with copious specimens, selected according to their numerical order: the addenda, between inverted commas, being copied from the said newspaper. . webbe's discourse of english poetrie, , to. £ _s._ _d._ "bought by mr. steevens versus mr. malone." . puttenham's art of english poesie, , to. . the fyrst boke of the introduction to knowledge, &c.; _printed by w. copland_, no date, to. "by the rev. mr. brand versus lord charlemont." . the castell of laboure; _emprynted by pynson_, to., _no date_. . dekker's miscellaneous pieces, , &c., to. . a curious collection of sundry rare pieces, to. . drollery's (eleven) , &c., vo. these droll pieces are now much coveted by knowing bibliomaniacs. mr. heber and mr. hill have each a copious collection of them; and mr. gutch of bristol, a bookseller of great spirit in his trade, and of equal love of general literature, recently gratified the curious by exhibiting, in his catalogue of , a number of "_garlands_;" which ere now, have, in all probability, proved a successful bait for some hungry book fish. . sir john harrington's most elegant and witty epigrams, with portrait, , vo. . flowers of epigrammes, &c. _impr. by shepperd_, , mo. . the paradise of dainty devises, &c., _printed for e. white_, , to. the workes of a young wit, by n.b. b.l. _printed by thomas dawson, no date_. watson's mistresse, &c., and sonnets, b.l. _imperf._ diana, by the earl and countess of oxenford, _printed for j. roberts_, wanting title, to. "bought by mr. steevens versus mr. malone." . england's helicon, , to. "by ditto versus ditto." . the example of vertu; _printed by w. de worde_, to. "bought by mr. mason versus mr. malone." . a mirrour of mysterie; _finely written upon, vellum, with two very neat drawings with pen and ink_, , to. . manley's affliction and deliverance of saints, portr. , vo. . tragedie of sir richard grenvile, knt. printed by j. roberts, , vo. . laquei ridiculosi, or springes for woodcocks, by henry parrot, , vo. n.b. _this little volume was sold for as many guineas at the sale of mr. reed's books in ._ . lyf of st. ursula; _impr. by wynkyn de worde_, no date, to. . lyf and history of saynt werburge. _printed by pynson_, , to. n.b. _this volume was sold for _l._ _s._ at the last mentioned sale._ . this lot comprehends a cluster of precious little black-letter pieces, which were purchased at the sale of west's books, by major pearson. eight in the whole: executed before the year . . the goodly garlande, or chaplet of laurell, by maister skelton; _impr._ by fawkes, , to. see here a long note upon the rarity and intrinsic worth of this curious little volume. "purchased by brand versus the king." . ancient songs and ballads; written on various subjects, and printed between the years and ; chiefly collected by robert earl of oxford, and purchased at the sale of the library of james west, esq., in (for _l._): increased by several additions: _ volumes bound in russia leather_. "bought by mr. nicol for the duke of roxburgh, versus messrs. arnold and ritson." "n.b. the preceding numerous and matchless collection of _old ballads_ are all printed in the black-letter, and decorated with many hundred wooden prints. they are pasted upon paper, with borders (printed on purpose) round each ballad: also, a printed title and index to each volume. to these are added the paragraphs which appeared in the public papers respecting the above curious collection, at the time they were purchased at mr. west's." thus far messrs. egerton. i have to add that the late duke of roxburgh became the purchaser of these "matchless" volumes. whilst in major pearson's possession, "with the assistance of mr. reed, the collection received very great additions, and was bound in two very large volumes; in this state (says mr. nicol,) it was bought by the duke of roxburghe. after the industrious exertions of two such skilful collectors as major pearson and mr. reed, the duke did not flatter himself with ever being able to add much to the collection; but, as usual, he undervalued his own industry. finding that his success far exceeded his expectations, he determined to add a _third volume_ to the collection. among these new acquisitions are some very rare ballads; one quoted by hamlet, of which no other copy is known to exist." _preface to the roxburgh catalogue_, p. . the ballad here alluded to may be seen in mr. evans's recent edition of his father's _collection of old ballads_; vol. i., p. . to . these numbers comprehend a very uncommon and interesting set of _old romances_! which, collectively, did not produce _l._--but which now, would have been sold for----!? to . an extraordinary collection of the english drama. and thus farewell major pearson!] lis. o rare thomas pearson! i will look sharply after a _large paper_, _priced_, copy of the _bibliotheca pearsoniana_! lysand. you must pay smartly for it, if you are determined to possess it. belin. madness!--madness inconceivable!--and undescribed by darwin, arnold, and haslam! but, i pray you, proceed. lysand. alas, madam, the task grows more and more complex as i draw towards the completion of it. in the year the book-treasures of the far-famed pinelli[ ] collection were disposed of by public auction: nor can one think, without some little grief of heart, upon the dispersion of a library, which (much more than commercial speculations and profits) had, for upwards of a century, reflected so much credit upon the family of its possessors. the atmosphere of our metropolis, about this period, became as much infected with the miasmata of the book-plague as it did, about years before, with the miasmata of a plague of a different description: for the worthy inhabitants of westminster had hardly recovered from the shock of the bibliomaniacal attack from the pinelli sale, 'ere they were doomed to suffer the tortures of a similar one in that of the paris[ ] collection. this latter was of shorter duration; but of an infinitely more powerful nature: for then you might have seen the most notorious bibliomaniacs, with blood inflamed and fancies intoxicated, rushing towards the examination of the truly matchless volumes contained within this collection. yet remember that, while the whole of pall mall was thronged with the carriages of collectors, anxious to carry off in triumph some _vellum copy_ of foreign execution--there was sold, in a quiet corner of the metropolis, the copious and scholar-like collection of michael lort, d.d. the owner of this latter library was a learned and amiable character, and a bibliographer of no mean repute.[ ] his books were frequently enriched with apposite ms. remarks; and the variety and extent of his collection, suited to all tastes, and sufficiently abundant for every appetite, forms, i think, a useful model after which future bibliomaniacs may build their libraries. [footnote : mention has already been made of the different _catalogues of the_ pinelli _collection_: see p. , ante. here, as lysander has thought proper again to notice the name of the collector, i am tempted to add a few specimens of the extraordinary books contained in his extraordinary library: adding thereto the prices for which they were sold. but--again and again i observe, _in limine_--these sums form no criterion of the _present_ worth of the books; be the same more or less! it is a document only of bibliographical curiosity. no. . la biblia sacra in lingua vulgare tradotta; . folio. vols. £ _s._ _d._ . bandello, canti xi delle lodi della signora lucrezia gonzaga di gazuolo, &c., , vo. . dante, la divina comedia; , folio. _ediz. prin._ . petrarca, le rime. venez. , to. _prin. ediz._ . sannazzaro, l'arcadia. ven. ald. , vo. _esemp. stampata in cartapecora._ . biblia polyglotta; complut. , &c., folio. vols. _exemplar integerrimum splendidissimum._ impressum in membranis. all the world (perhaps i should have said the _bibliographical_ world) has heard of this pre-eminently wonderful set of books; now in count macarty's library at thoulouse. my friend, dr. gosset--who will not (i trust) petition for excommunicating me from the orthodox church to which i have the honour of belonging, if i number him in the upper class of bibliomaniacs--was unable to attend the sale of the pinelli collection, from severe illness: but he _did petition_ for a sight of one of these volumes of old ximenes's polyglott--which, much more effectually than the spiders round ashmole's neck (vide p. , ante), upon an embrace thereof, effected his cure. shakspeare, surely, could never have meant to throw such "physic" as this "to the dogs?!" but, to return. . anthologia epig. græc. . to. _exemp. impr. in membranis._ . theocritus (absque ulla nota) to. _editio princeps._ . plautus, . folio. _editio princeps._ , . aulus gellius, , folio. _edit. princeps._ , . macrobius, , folio. _edit. prin._ , . priscianus de art. gram. . fol. _in membranis._ [sale catalogue, , vo.] but--"jam satis." it probably escaped lysander that, while the sale of the pinelli collection attracted crowds of bibliomaniacs to conduit street, hanover square, a very fine library was disposed of, in a quiet and comfortable manner, at the rooms of messrs. leigh and sotheby, in york street, covent garden; under the following title to the catalogue: _a catalogue of a very elegant and curious cabinet of books, lately imported from france_, &c. (sold in may, ). my priced copy of this catalogue affixes the name (in ms.) of macartney, as the owner of this precious "cabinet." there were only articles; containing a judicious sprinkling of what was elegant, rare, and curious, in almost every department of literature. the eleventh and twelfth days' sale were devoted to mss.; many of them of extraordinary beauty and singularity. it was from this collection, no. , that lord spencer obtained, for a comparatively small sum, one of the most curious books (if not an unique volume) in the class of early english printed ones, which are in his own matchless collection. it is the "_siege of rhodes_," which has a strong appearance of being the production of caxton's press. the copy is perfectly clean and almost uncut.] [footnote : if the reader will be pleased to turn to page , ante, he will find a tolerably copious and correct list of the different sales of books which were once in the possession of mons. paris de meyzieux. in the same place he will also find mention made of a singular circumstance attending the sale of the above collection noticed by lysander. as a corollary, therefore, to what has been before observed, take the following specimens of the books--with the prices for which they are sold--which distinguished the _bibliotheca parisiana_. they are from the french catalogue, , vo. no. . biblia sacra latina vulgatæ editionis (ex translatione et cum præfationibus s. hieronymi); venetiis, n. jenson, , vol. in fol.: _avec miniatures, relié en mar. r. doublé de tabis, dentelles et boîtes_: imprime sur velin. "on connoît l'extrême rareté de cette belle edition quand les exemplaires sont sur vélin. nous n'en connoissons qu'un seul, bien moins beau que celui ci; celui que nous annonçons est de toute beauté, et on ne peut rien ajouter au luxe de la relieure." £ _s._ _d._ . biblia sacra vulgatæ editionis, tribus tomis distincta (jussu sixt. v., pontificis maximi edita); _romæ, ex typographia apostolica vaticana_, ; _in. fol. ch. mag. maroquin rouge_. "superbe exemplaire d'un livre de la plus grande rareté; il porte sur la couverture les armes de sixte quint." . epitome passionis jesu christi, in o. sur velin avec miniatures. _manuscrit très précieux_ du commencement du siecle, contenant feuillets écrits en ancienne ronde bâtarde, et pages de miniatures d'un dessein et d'un fini inappréciables. "les desseins sont d'albert durer, tels qu'il les a gravés dans ses ouvrages, et l'exécution est si animée qu'on peut croire qu'elle est, en tout ou en partie, de la main de ce peintre célebre. on ne peut trop louer la beauté de ce livre." . officium beatæ mariæ virginis cum calendario; in o. mar. r. dentelles. "_cette paire d'heures manuscrite_ sur velin, est sans contredit une des plus belles et des plus achevées que l'on puisse trouver. au rare mérite de sa parfaite exécution elle réunit encore celui d'avoir été faite pour françoise er, roi de france, et d'être décoree dans toutes ses pages de l'embléme et du chiffre de ce monarque. ce manuscrit, d'un prix inestimable, est ecrit en lettres rondes sur un vélin très blanc"--"il est decoré de très belles capitales, de guirlandes superbes de fleurs, de culs-de-lampe, & de bordures ornées d'oiseaux, d'insectes, de fleurs et de lames d'or très brillant."--"il est impossible de donner une idée satisfaisante de le beauté et de la richesse de peintures admirables qui enrichissent autant de pages de pouces et demi de hauteur, sur environ pouces de largeur; elles sont au dessus de toute expression; mais il n'y en a qu'une qui soit du temps de françois er.; un seigneur dont on voit les armes peintes sur le second feuillet, a fait exécuter les autres dans la siecle dernier, avec une magnificence peu commune. les tableaux et les ornemens dont il a enrichi ce précieux manuscrit se distinguent par une composition savante et gracieuse, un dessin correct, une touche précieuse et un coloris agréable," &c. . heures de notre-dame, écrites à la main, , par jarry, parisien, in o. _chagrin noir, avec deux fermoirs d'or et boîte de mar. bl._ "ces heures sont un chef-d'oeuvre d'écriture & de peinture. le fameux jarry, qui n'a pas encore eu son égal en l'art d'écrire, s'y est surpassé, & y a prouvé que la regularité, la netteté & la precision des caracteres du burin et de l'impression pouvoient être imitées avec la plume à un degré de perfection inconcevable."--"le peintre, dont le nom nous est inconnu, & qui doit avoir été un des plus fameux du siecle de louis xiv., a travaillé à l'envi avec nicolas jarry à rendre ces heures dignes d'admiration."--"les sept peintures dont il les a enriches, sont recommendables par la purité de leur dessein, la vivacité des couleurs, la verité de l'expression, et leur précieux fini." this matchless little volume was purchased by mr. johnes of hafod, and presented by him to his daughter, who has successfully copied the miniatures; and, in the true spirit of a female bibliomaniac, makes this book her travelling companion "wherever she goes." . office de la vierge, _manuscrit_, avec miniatures et un grand nombre de figures bizarres, oiseaux, etc. supérieurement executé; vol. in o. _m. bl. doublé de tapis, avec étuis_. "on ne peut rien voir de plus agréable & de mieux diversifié que les différents sujets des miniatures; en tout, cet exemplaire est un des plus beaux que j'aie jamais vus; c'est celui de picart. il est à remarquer à cause du costume de quelques figures; il a été relié avec le plus grand soin et la plus grande dépense." . l'art de connoître et d'apprécier les miniatures des anciens manuscrits; par m. l'abbé rive, avec tableaux enlumines, copiés d'après les plus beaux manuscrits qui se trouvoient dans la bibliothéque de m. le duc de la valliere, et d'autres précieux cabinets. _exemplaire peint_ sur velin. "m. l'abbé rive se proposoit de donner une dissertation sur les manuscrits enluminés pour accompagner ces dessins; mais jusqu'ici ayant des raisons qui l'empêchent d'en gratifier le public, il en a donné la description en manuscrit (le seul qui existe) au propriétaire de ce superbe exemplaire." . les faicts, dictes et ballades de maitre alain chartier: _paris, pierre le caron, sans date, in fol. velours vert_; imprime sur velin. "exemplaire qui ne laisse rien à desirer, pour la grandeur des marges, la peinture des miniatures et de toutes les lettres capitales. la finesse des lignes rouges, qui divisent chaque ligne, demontre combien on a été engagé à le rendre précieux. il est dans sa relieure originale parfaitement bien conservé; il a appartenu à claude d'urfé: l'edition passe pour étre de l'année, . _voyez bibliographie instructive_, no. ." . contes de la fontaine, avec miniatures, vignettes et culs-de-lampes à chaque conte; vol. in o.; m. bleu, doublé de tapis, étuis. "_manuscrit incomparable_ pour le génie et l'exécution des dessins. il est inconcevable que la vie d'un artiste ait pu suffire pour exécuter d'une manière si finie un si grand nombre de peintures exquises; le tout est d'un coloris éclatant, d'une conservation parfaite, & sur du vélin egalement blanc et uni; enfin c'est un assemblage de miniatures précieuses et dignes d'orner le plus beau cabinet." l'ecriture a été faite par monchaussé, et les miniatures par le fameux marolles. . opere di francesco petrarcha; _senza luogho_ , _mar. r. doublé de tabis et étui_; imprime sur velin. "exemplaire sans prix, avec grand nombre de miniatures charmantes. il passoit pour constant à florence, où je l'ai acheté, qu'il avoite été imprimé à part probablement pour quelqu'un des mêdicis, et sur les corrections de l'edition de ; car les fautes ne s'y trouvent pas, et il ne m'a pas éte possible d'en découvrir une seule.--la parfaite conservation de ce livre précieux démontre combien ses possesseurs ont été sensible a sa valeur. p----." . collectiones peregrinationum in indiam orientalem et in indiam occidentalem, xxv partibus comprehensæ, &c. _francof. ad mæen. , &c., vol. reliés en , folio; maroq. citr. bleu et rouge._ "exemplaire de la plus grande beauté, et qui possede autant de perfection que pouvoient lui donner les soins et les connoissances des plus grands amateurs." . les grands chroniques de france (dites les chroniques de st. denys); _paris, antoine verard_, , vols. fol. _vel. rouge, et boîtes_; imprime sur velin. "exemplaire d'une magnificence étonante pour la blancheur du vélin, la grandeur des marges, et l'ouvrage immense de l'enluminure; chaque lettre-capitale étant peinte en or, et contenant miniatures, dont sont de la grandeur des pages, et environ de pouces de hauteur sur de largeur. il est encore dans sa relieure originale, et d'une fraîcheur & d'une conservation parfaites: il a appartenu à claude d'urfé." . chroniques de france, d'angleterre, d'ecosse, d'espagnes, et de bretaigne, etc.; par _froissart; paris, g. eustace, . vol. in fol. mar. r. doublé de tabis, et boîtes_ imprime sur velin. "on peut regarder ce livre comme un des plus rares qui existe. l'exemplaire est unique et inconnu aux meilleurs bibliographes; sauvage ne l'a jamaie vu; il est de la premiere beauté par la blancheur du vélin, & par sa belle conservation. on y a joint tout le luxe de la rélieure." _in the hafod collection._ ] [footnote : the following is the title of the bibliotheca lortiana. "_a catalogue of the entire and valuable library of the late_ rev. michael lort, d.d., f.r.s. and a.s., _which will be sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, &c., april , _," vo. the sale lasted twenty-five days; and the number of lots or articles was . the ensuing specimens of a few of the book-treasures in this collection prove that lysander's encomium upon the collector is not without foundation. no. . gardiner's (bishop) detection of the devil's sophistry, ms. title: printed by _john hertford, in aldersgate street, at the cost and charges of robert toye_, , mo. note in this book: "though this book is imperfect, yet the remarkable part of it, viz. sheet e, printed in the greek letter, and sheet f in latin, with the roman letter, are not wanting." £ _s._ _d._ . hale's (t.) account of new inventions, in a letter to the earl of marlborough, vo. note in this book: "many curious particulars in this book, more especially a prophetic passage relative to the duke of marlborough, p. xlvii." . harrison's (michael) four sermons. "n.b. the author of this book cut the types himself, and printed it at st. ives," vo. . festival (the) impressus rothomage, , to. in this book (which is in english) at the end of each festival is a narration of the life of the saint, or of the particular festival. . festival (the) with wooden cuts, compleat: _emprynted by wynkyn de worde_, , to. . johnson's (dr. sam.) journey to the western islands of scotland. "in this book is contained the cancelled part of page , relative to litchfield cathedral; likewise the cancelled part of page , respecting the cave at egg, and the transaction there; also parts of reviews and newspapers, concerning dr. johnson; two plates, ms. copy of a letter of dr. johnson's: and henderson's letter to johnson on his journey to scotland." , vo. . muggleton's acts of the witnesses of the spirit; _with heads, ms. remarks, and notes_, . ludowick muggleton, born in bishopgate street, ; put apprentice to john quick, a taylor. married a virgin of , ætat. suæ . another virgin of , ætat. . a third virgin wife of , ætat. . chosen a prophet , to. . muggleton's and reeve's volume of spiritual epistles; elegantly bound, with a head of muggleton underneath a ms. note, , to. . lower's voyage of charles ii. made into holland, head and plates. hague. . folio. n.b. "a very uncommon book, containing many curious particulars." . owen's (dr. john) divine originall, &c. of the scriptures, oxford, , vo. note in this book: "one of the scarcest and best of dr. owen's works." . psalms (the whole booke of) with hymns, by ravenscroft, with music, vo. "note; in this book are some tunes by john milton, the great poet's father. see page , ." . stubbes's anatomie of abuses, printed at london by richard jones, august, , vo. note in this book: "i bought this rare book at the auction of mr. joseph hart's books, in may , where it cost me _s._ &c." m.l. [the reader may just run back to page , ante; where he will find some account of this work.] . champ fleury, auquel est contenu l'art et science de la deue et vraye proportion de lettres antiques et romaines selon le corps et visage humain, avec figures. par. . folio. "_this uncommon book was sold at an auction, , for l. s._" . alberti descriptione di tutta italia, venez., , to. note in this book--"_this is a very scarce and much valued account of italy._" with another curious note respecting the author. . aldrete varias antiguedales de espana, africa, y otras provincias. amberes, , to. _note in this book_: "one of the most valuable books of this kind in the spanish language, and very rarely to be met with." . humfredi, vita episcop. juelli, foliis deauratis, lond. ap dayum, , to. _note in this book_: "at the end of this book are probably some of the first hebrew types used in england." . præsidis (epistola r.a.p.) generalis et regiminis totius congregationis anglicanæ ordinis st. benedicti. duaci, . vo. [_note in this book_: "this is a very scarce book; it was intended only for the use of the order, and care taken that it should not get into improper hands. see the conclusion of the general's mandate, and of the book itself."] . wakefeldi oratio de laudibus et utilitate trium linguarum, arabicæ, chaldaicæ, & hebraicæ; atque idiomatibus hebraicis quæ in utroque testamento inveniuntur. _lond. ap. winandum de worde._--shirwode liber hebræorum concionatoris, seu ecclesiasten. antv. . to. _note in this book_: "these two pieces by shirwood and wakefield are exceedingly rare." for some particulars concerning the very respectable dr. lort, the reader may consult the _gentleman's magazine_; vol. lx. pt. ii. p. , .] alman. i am glad to hear you notice such kind of collections; for utility and common sense have always appeared to me a great desideratum among the libraries of your professed bibliomaniacs. belin. yes:--you pride yourselves upon your large paper, and clean, and matchless copies--but you do not dwell quite so satisfactorily upon your useful and profitable volumes--which, surely stand not in need of expensive embellishments. lort's collection would be the library for my money--if i were disposed to become a female bibliomaniac! lis. you are even a more jejune student than myself in bibliography, or you would not talk in this strain, belinda. abuse fine copies of books! i hope you forgive her, lysander? lysand. most cordially. but have i not discoursed sufficiently? the ladies are, i fear, beginning to be wearied; and the night is "almost at odds with morning which is which." loren. nay, nay, we must not yet terminate our conversation. pursue, and completely accomplish, the noble task which you have begun. but a few more years to run down--a few more renowned bibliomaniacs to "kill off"--and then we retire to our pillows delighted and instructed by your---- lysand. halt! if you go on thus, there is an end to our "table talk." i now resume. loren. yet a word to save your lungs, and slightly vary the discourse. let me take you with me to ireland, about this time; where, if you reremember [transcriber's note: remember], the library of denis daly[ ] was disposed of by public auction. my father attended the sale; and purchased at it a great number of the _old english chronicles_, and volumes relating to _english history_, which lisardo so much admired in the library. you remember the copy of birch's _lives of illustrious persons of great britain_! [footnote : _a catalogue of the library of the late right honourable_ denis daly, _which will be sold by auction on the first of may, , by james vallance._ _dublin_, vo. a fac-simile copper-plate of a part of the first psalm, taken from a bible erroneously supposed to have been printed by ulric zell in , faces the title-page; and a short and pertinent preface succeeds it. the collection was choice and elegant: the books are well described, and the catalogue is printed with neatness. the copies on _large paper_ are very scarce. i subjoin, as a curiosity, and for the sake of comparing with modern prices, the sums for which a few popular articles in english history were disposed of. no. . tyrrell's general history of england, vols. lond. , fol. "to this copy mr. tyrell has made considerable additions in ms. written in a fair hand, which must be worthy of the attention of the learned." £ _s._ _d._ . rapin's history of england with tyndal's continuation, vols. _elegantly bound in russia_. lond. - , folio. "one of the most capital sets of rapin extant; besides the elegant portraits of the kings and queens, monuments, medals, &c. engraved for this work, it is further enriched with the beautiful prints executed by vertue and houbraken, for birch's illustrious heads." folio. . carte's general history of england, vols., fine paper, _elegant in russia_. lond. , folio. . birch's lives of illustrious persons of great britain, with their heads by houbraken and vertue; vols. in one, _first impression of the plates, imperial paper_. lond. - , folio. it is impossible to give a perfect idea of this book: every plate is fine, and appears to be selected from the earliest impressions: it is now very scarce. . campbell's vitruvius britannicus, with woolfe's and gandon's continuation, vols. _large paper, fine impressions of the plates, elegantly bound in morocco, gilt leaves, &c._ lond. - , folio. . wood's historia et antiquitates oxoniensis, _large paper, russia, gilt leaves, &c._ ox. . . biographia britannica, vols. _large paper, elegantly bound_. lond. , fol. . ---- ---- vols. new edition, _elegantly bound in green turkey_. lond. . . mathæi paris, monachi albanensis angli, historia major, a wats. lond. , folio. . mathæi westmonasteriensis, flores historiarum. franc. , folio. . historiæ anglicanæ scriptores varii, a sparke. lond. , folio. . historiæ anglicanæ scriptores x. a twysden; tom. fol. _deaurat._ lond. , folio. . rerum anglicarum scriptores post bedam, a saville, fol. _deaurat._ lond. , folio. . rerum anglicarum scriptorum veterum, a gale; tom. fol. _deaurat._ lond. - . . rerum britannicarum, scriptores vetustiores. lugd. , folio. . prynne's records, vols., with the _frontispieces complete, gilt, broad border of gold_. lond. - . "for an account of this rare and valuable work, see oldy's british librarian, page ii. not more than copies of the first vol. were rescued from the fire of london, ." folio. i learn from the nephew of the late mr. archer, of dublin, bookseller, that the late lord clare offered guineas for the collection--which contained only lots or articles. the offer was rejected. although the amount of the sale did not exceed _l._--according to a rough calculation.] lis. i do:--and a marvellously fine one it is! loren. well, this was formerly _exemplar dalyanum_. but now proceed. i wished only to convince you that the miasmata (as you call them) of the bibliomaniacal disease had reached our sister kingdom. of scotland[ ]--i know nothing in commendation respecting the bibliomania. [footnote : this is rather a hasty speech, on the part of lorenzo. the copious and curious catalogues of those booksellers, messrs. constable, laing, and blackwood--are a sufficient demonstration that the cause of the _bibliomania_ flourishes in the city of edinburgh. whether they have such desperate bibliomaniacs in scotland, as we possess in london, and especially of the book-auction species--is a point which i cannot take upon me to decide. certain it is that the notes of their great poet are not deficient in numerous tempting extracts from rare black-letter tomes; and if his example be not more generally followed than it is, the fault must lie with some scribe or other who counteracts its influence by propagating opinions, and recommending studies, of a different, and less tasteful, cast of character. i am fearful that there are too many politico-economical, metaphysical, and philosophical miasmata, floating in the atmosphere of scotland's metropolis, to render the climate there just now favourable to the legitimate cause of the bibliomania.] i had nearly forgotten to mention, with the encomiums which they merit, the select, curious, and splendid collections of the chauncys:[ ] very able scholars, and zealous bibliomaniacs. many a heavy-metalled competitor attended the sale of the _bibliotheca chauncyana_; and, i dare say, if such a collection of books were now _sub hastâ_---- [footnote : _a catalogue of the elegant and valuable libraries of_ charles chauncy, m.d. f.r.s. and f.s.a.; _and of his brother_, nathaniel chauncy, _esq., both deceased: &c. sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, april, _, vo.: articles. no. . booke of raynarde the foxe, morocco, gilt leaves, _london by thomas gaultier_, , vo. £ _s._ _d._ . merie tales by master skelton, poet laureat; _imprinted by thomas colwell_; no date, mo. . the pleasunt historie of lazarillo de tormes, by david rouland; _impr. at london, by abel jeffes_, , mo. . the newe testament, corrected by tyndal, with exhortations by erasmus; _gilt leaves_, , mo. . more's utopia, by robynson; _impr. by abraham veale_, mo. ( .) "n.b. in this are the passages which have been left out in the later editions." (but the reader may be pleased to examine my edition of this translation of the utopia; , vols., vo., see vol. i., p. clix.) . the epidicion into scotland of the most woorthely fortunate prince edward, duke of somerset, uncle unto our most noble sovereign, &c., edward the vith; _imprinted by grafton_; , vo. (at the sale of mr. gough's books in , a fine copy of this work was sold for _l._ _s._) . ben jonson his volpone, or the foxe; _morocco, gilt leaves_, , to. "in this book is this note written by ben jonson himself. 'to his loving father, and worthy friend mr. john florio: the ayde of his muses. ben jonson seales this testimony of friendship and love.'" . nychodemus's gospell, _morocco, gilt leaves, emprynted at london, by wynkyn de worde_, , to. . oxford and cambridge verses; _in blue and red morocco, gilt leaves, with gold tassels_, vols., , &c., fol. . caius of english dogges, the diversities, the names, the natures, and the properties, by fleming; _imprinted at london by richard johnes_, , to. . the life and death of the merry devill of edmonton, with the pleasant prancks of smug the smith, sir john, and mine host of the george, about the stealing of venison, frontispiece, to. . speculum xristiani, corio turcico, impress. _london, p. willelmum de machlinia_ ad instanciam nec non expensas henrici urankenburg, mercatoris, _sine anno vel loco, circa_, , to. . [transcriber's note: sic] a hundreth sundrie flowers, bounde up in one small poesie, gathered in the fyne outlandish gardins of euripides, ovid, petrake, aristo, and others. _london_, to. . the recuile of the historie of troie; _imprynted_ , _by william copland, folio_ . the pastyme of people. the chronicles of dyvers realmys, and most specyally of the realme of englond, brevely compylyd and _emprynted in chepesyde at the sygne of the mearmayde, next polly's gate (made up with ms.) morocco, gilt leaves_, folio . cunningham's cosmographical glasse. _lond. printed by daye_, , fol. (i conclude that it had the portrait.) . ptolomæi cosmographie; cum tab. georgr. [transcriber's note: geogr.] illum. _impress. in membranis_, , fol. . virgilii opera: _impres. in membram. venet. ap. barthol. cremonens_, , fol. (two leaves on vellum in ms. very fairly written) purchased by the late mr. quin. . plinii hist. naturalis; venet. , folio. _impres. in membranis._ the first leaf illuminated on very fine vellum paper. note in this book: "this book, formerly lord oxford's, was bought by him of andrew hay for guineas." purchased by mr. edwards. there was also a magnificent copy of _pynson's first edition of chaucer's works_, in folio, which is now in the collection of earl spencer.] lis. he means "under the hammer."--ladies are not supposed to know these cramp latin phrases.-- lysand. well, "under the hammer:"--if, i say, such a collection were now to be disposed of by public auction, how eager and emulous would our notorious book-collectors be to run away with a few splendid spoils! we will next notice a not less valuable collection, called the _bibliotheca monroiana_; or the library of dr. john monro;[ ] the sale of which took place in the very year, and a little before, the preceding library was disposed of. don't imagine that monro's books were chiefly medical; on the contrary, besides exhibiting some of the rarest articles in old english literature, they will convince posterity of the collector's accurate taste in italian belles lettres: and here and there you will find, throughout the catalogue, some interesting bibliographical memoranda by the doctor himself. [footnote : "_bibliotheca elegantissima monroiana: a catalogue of the elegant and valuable library of_ john munro, m.d., _physician to bethelem hospital, lately deceased. sold by auction by leigh and sotherby [transcriber's note: sotheby], &c. april d, _, vo." as usual i subjoin a few specimens of the collector's literary treasures in confirmation of the accuracy of lysander's eulogy upon the collection----no. , cowell's interpreter; or, booke containing the signification of words, _first edition_, ("rare to be met with.") _camb. by legate_, , to.----no. . cent (les) nouvelles nouvelles, ou pour mieux dire, nouveaux comptes à plaisance, par maniere de joyeuseté.----_lettres gothiques, fig. et bois et titre mss. feuilles dorées, en maroquin, paris, par ant. verard_, , fol.----no. , heide beschryving der nieuevlyks uitgevonden en geoctrojeerde slang-brand-spuiten, en haare wijze van brand-blussen, tegenwoordig binnen _amsterdam in gebruik zynde. wyze figuurs amst._ , fol. "_note in this book: paris_, . paid for this book for his grace the duke of kingston, by mr. hickman, _l._" a great sum for a book about a "newly discovered fire engine!"----no. , vivre (le livre intitulé l'art de bein) et de bien mourir, lettres gothiques, avec fig. en maroquin dorées sur tranches. _imprimé à paris_, , to. note by dr. munro: "it is a very scarce book, more so than generally thought." with a long account of the book on separate papers.----no. , ariosto, orlando furioso, con figure da porro, foglio dorat. venet. , to. n.b. in this copy the true print is replaced _with a fine head of ariosto_, and _elegantly inlaid with morocco and calf_.----no. , boccacio (nimpale fiesolano: composto par il clarissimo poeta misser joanni) fiorentino, &c. rigato. senza data, to. see in this book a long account of this poem from dom. maria manni, in the istoria del decamerone, p. . "from what manni says in the above account, i suppose this to be the first edition he makes mention of, as there is no place or date to be found. j.m."----no. . dante di landino, con. fig. la prima edizione di landino, impf. _firenze per nicholo di lorenzo della magna_, , folio. "in this book are several remarks by dr. munro, on separate papers. an old scarce print, separate. on the title-page the following initials c m/dc r; upon which the doctor remarks it might probably be the signature of charles the first, whose property it might have been. the doctor likewise observes this copy, though imperfect, is still very valuable, on account of its having eight plates, the generality having only the two first."----no. , molinet (les faictz et dictz de bone memoire maistre jehan) _lettres gothiques, en maroquin par._ , vo.----no. , peri fiesole distrutta, poema: with portrait and engraved title, firenze, , to. _note in this book_: "this is the only copy i ever saw of this work, which i imagine is at present become extremely scarce. the title and portrait are engraved by callott. the portrait is common enough, but the title, known by the name of the bella giardiniera, very seldom seen. j.m."----no. . ridolfi, le maraviglie dell'arte, overo le vite di pittori veneti e dello stato, con. fig. tom. to. n.b. on the blank leaf of this book is an etching by carolus rodolphus, with this _ms. note_: "i imagine this to be an etching of cavaier rodolphi, as i do not remember any other of the name."----no. , lazii in genealogiam austriacam, basil. ap. oporinum, .--lazii vienna austriæ basil, . francolin res gestæ viennensis, cum fig. _viennæ austriæ excudebat raphæl hofhalter_, . folio. _note in this book_: "the last book in this volume is curious and uncommon."] we shall now run rapidly towards the close of the eighteenth century. but first, you may secure, for a shilling or two, the southgate collection;[ ] and make up your minds to pay a few more shillings for good copies, especially upon _large paper_, of all the parts of the catalogues of the library of george mason[ ]. this collection was an exceedingly valuable one; rather select than extensive: exhibiting, in pretty nearly an equal degree, some of the rarest books in greek, latin, and english literature. the _keimelion_ of the masonian cabinet, in the estimation of the black-letter bibliomaniacs, was a perfect copy of the _st. albans' edition_ of juliana barnes's book of _hawking, hunting_, and _angling_; which perfect copy is now reposing in a collection where there are _keimelia_ of far greater value to dim its wonted lustre. but let mason have our admiration and esteem. his library was elegant, judicious, and, in many respects, very precious: and the collector of such volumes was a man of worth and learning. [footnote : "_museum southgatianum; being a catalogue of the valuable collection of books, coins, medals, and natural history of the late rev._ richard southgate, a.b., f.a.s., &c. to which are prefixed memoirs of his life. london: printed for leigh and sotheby," &c. , vo. the books were comprised in lots. the coins and medals extend, in the catalogue, to pages. the shells and natural curiosities (sold in may, ) to pages. this catalogue possesses, what every similar one should possess, a compendious and perspicuous account of the collector. my copy of it is upon _large paper_; but the typographical execution is sufficiently defective.] [footnote : lysander is right in noticing "_all the parts_" of the masonian library. i will describe them particularly. pt. i. _a catalogue of a considerable portion of the greek and latin library of_ george mason, esq., with some articles in the italian, french, english, and other languages, &c. sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, on wednesday, january , , vo. articles. pt. ii. _a catalogue of most of the reserved portion of the greek and latin library of_ g.m., &c., chiefly classical and bibliographical, with a few miscellaneous articles in french: sold as before, may , , &c. articles. pt. iii. _a catalogue of a considerable portion of the remaining library of_ g.m., esq.--chiefly historical, with some curious theological, and some scientific, articles: sold as before; nov. to ; , &c. articles. pt iv. _a catalogue, &c., of the remaining library of_ g.m., esq.--chiefly belles lettres, english, french, and italian, &c., sold as before; april , : articles. these four parts, priced, especially the latter one--are uncommon. my copies of all of them are upon _large paper_. it must have been a little heart-breaking for the collector to have seen his beautiful library, the harvest of many a year's hard reaping, melting away piece-meal, like a snow-ball--before the warmth of some potent cause or other, which now perhaps cannot be rightly ascertained. see here, gentle reader, some of the fruits of this golden masonian harvest!--gathered almost promiscuously from the several parts. they are thus presented to thy notice, in order, amongst other things, to stimulate thee to be equally choice and careful in the gathering of similar fruits. part i. no. . winstanley's audley end, inscribed to james the second, fol. _never published for sale_ £ _s._ _d._ . hypnerotomachia poliphili, c.t. _f.d. ald._ . aquinæ (thomæ) quartiscriptum, c.r. _moguntiæ schoeffer_, , fol. . cicero de officiis, c.t. f.d. _moguntiæ ap. fust._ . to. in hoc exemplari rubrica inter libros secundum ac tertium habet singularia errata, quæ in nullo alio exemplari adhuc innotuerunt; viz. _primus_ ponitur pro _secundus_, _secundus_ pro _tertius_, et _secundum_ pro _tertium_ . chalcondylas, moschopulus, et corinthus, gr. _editio princeps._ vide notam ante librum . constantini lexicon græcum. _genevæ_, . ciceronis orationes, c.t. viridi f.d. _per adamum de ambergau_, , fol. . homerus, gr., vol., _editio princeps_, c.r. flor. . xenophon, gr., _editio princeps_, c.t. f.d. _flor. ap. junt._ , fol. part iii. . maundrel's journey from aleppo to jerusalem, _l.p. oxf._ , vo. first edition of the entire work . the psalter of david, large b.l. c.t. nigro f.d. _cantorbury, in st. paule's parysh, by john mychell_, , to. . the gospels in saxon and english, dedicated to queen elizabeth, by john foxe, c.t. nigro, f.d. _lond. by daye_, , to. . the new testament, by thomas matthew, , to. ["there are cuts to the revelations, different from any mr. herbert had seen; nor had he seen the book itself, till he was writing his 'corrections and additions,' where, at p. , he describes it."] . nychodemus' gospell, c.t. f.d. _wood prints. wynkyn de worde_, , to. . english prymer, in red and black types: _with emblematic frontispiece from a wood-cut_. c.t. cæruleo f.d. _byddell_, , to. printed on vellum . speculum christiani (in latin prose and english verse) c.t. nigro. _in civitate londoniarum, per wilhelmum de machlinia. supposed to be the first book printed in london, and about_ , to. . contemplation of synners, (latin prose and english verse) with double frontispiece, and other wood-cuts. _westminster, by wynkyn de worde_, , to. . (walter hylton's) scala perfectionis, london, _without temple-barre_, by julyan notary, , to. . dives and pauper, c.r. _first dated impression by pynson_, , folio . hackluyt's collection of voyages, b.l. vols. in . lond. . "this work contains in vol. i. (beginning at p. ) a political tract in verse (of the time of henry vi.) exhorting england to keep the sea." . arnold's chronicle, or customs of london, b.l. c.t.--f.d. ( ) folio . chaucer's hertfordshire; _with all the plates_, c.r. _once the book of white kennet, bishop of peterborough; whose marginal notes in are pp._ , , , folio . froissart's chronycles, vols. c.r. f.d. _printed by pynson_, - , _folio_, vols. . rastell's pastyme of people, c.t.--f.d. johannes rastell, ( ) _one page and part of a pieced leaf written._ . monasticon anglicanum, vols. ligat. in , c.r. all the plates, lond. , , . "this copy contains that very scarce leaf, which sometimes follows the title-page of the first volume: an account of which leaf (by tanner and hearne) may be seen from p. to p. of the sixth volume of leland's collectanea, and their account rectified by bridges, at the conclusion of hearne's preface to titus livius foro-juliensis." folio. . hardyng's chronicle (in verse) c.r.--f.d. _with an original grant (on vellum) from henry vi. to hardyng, londoni._ grafton, , to. [this beautiful copy, formerly west's, is now in the collection of george hibbert, esq.] . fabian's chronicle, c.t. cærulo f.d. vols. in . b.l. lond. w. rastell, . "this edition (as well as pynson's) has the hymns to the virgin, though mr. t. warton thought otherwise." folio. part iv. [transcriber's note: in this section, no prices are given in the original.] . kendall's flowers of epigrams, b.l.--c.r. _leaf is wanting_, mo. . m(arloe)'s ovid's elegies and epigrams, by j. d(avies of hereford). (ovid's head engraved by w.m.) c.t.--f.d. _middlebourg_, mo. . observations on authors, ancient and modern, vol. lond. - . "this was dr. jortin's own copy, who has written the name of each author to every piece of criticism, and added a few marginal remarks of his own," vo. . valentine and orson, b.l. cuts. _wants title, two leaves in one place, and a leaf in another_, to. . la morte d'arthur, b.l. _wood-cuts_, lond. _thomas east._ _wants one leaf in the middle of the table._ see _ms. note prefixed_. . barnes's (dame juliana) boke of haukynge, huntynge, and cootarmuris, c.t.--f.d. _seynt albon's_, folio, . "this perhaps is the only perfect copy of this original edition, which is extant. its beginning with sig. a ii is no kind of cantradiction [transcriber's note: contradiction] to its being perfect; the registers of many latin books at this period mention the first leaf of a as quite blank. the copy of the public library at cambridge is at least so worn or mutilated at the bottom of some pages that the bottom lines are not legible." [this copy is now in the matchless collection of earl spencer.] . chaucer's canterbury tales, c.r. _woodcuts, pynson_, folio, "this is pynson's original edition, and probably the first book he printed. see a long ms. note prefixed. bound up at the end of this copy are two leaves of a ms. on vellum, which take in the conclusion of the miller's prologue, and beginning of his tale. one of these pages is illuminated, and has a coloured drawing of the miller on his mule." . mort d'arthur, b.l. _woodcuts. lond. w. copland._ see ms. notes at the beginning and end, folio. . roy's _rede me and be not wrothe, for i say nothing but trothe._ "this is the famous satire against cardinal wolsey, printed some years before his fall. see herbert, p. , vo." [the reader may look for one minute at page , ante.] . boetius, (the boke of comfort, by) translated into englishe tonge (in verse) _emprented in the exempt monastery of taverstock, in denshire, by me, thomas rycharde, monke of the said monastery_, , to. . caxton's blanchardyn and eglantine, or proude lady of love, c.t.--f.d., _printed by caxton_, folio. [see my edition of the _typograhical [transcriber's note: typographical] antiquities_, vol. i. p. .] . hawkyng, huntyng, and fyshyng, (from juliana barnes) b.l. _woodcuts. lond. toye, and w. copland_, to. _see ms. notes prefixed._ . hawys's compendions story, or exemple of vertue, b.l.--c.r. _wood-cuts_, _ib._ _wynkyn de worde_, . . ---- passe-tyme of pleasure, b.l. _wood-cuts ib. by w. de worde_, , to. . spenser's shephearde's calendar. c.t.--f.d., _wood-cuts: first edition, ib._ singleton, , to. . taylor, the water poet (fifteen different pieces by) all of posterior date to the collection of his works. among them is the life of old par, with par's head, and plates of curious needle-work. the volume also contains some replies to taylor. a written list of all the contents is prefixed. lond. and oxford, to. . tulle of old age (translated by william botoner, or of worcester) _pr. by caxton_, . folio. ---- of friendship, translated by tiptoft, earl of worcester; to which is added another tract written by the same earl, c.r.--f.d.--l.r. _explicit per caxton_, folio.] how shall i talk of thee, and of thy wonderful collection, o rare richard farmer?[ ]--and of thy scholarship, acuteness, pleasantry, singularities, varied learning, and colloquial powers! thy name will live long among scholars in general; and in the bosoms of virtuous and learned bibliomaniacs thy memory shall ever be enshrined! the walls of emanuel college now cease to convey the sounds of thy festive wit--thy volumes are no longer seen, like richard smith's "bundles of sticht books," strewn upon the floor; and thou hast ceased, in the cause of thy beloved shakspeare, to delve into the fruitful ore of black-letter literature. peace to thy honest spirit; for thou wert wise without vanity, learned without pedantry, and joyous without vulgarity! [footnote : there is but a scanty memorial of this extraordinary and ever respectable bibliomaniac, in the _gentleman's magazine_; vol. lxvii. pt. ii. p. : : nor is it noticed, among farmer's theologico-literary labours, that he was author of an ingenious essay upon the _demoniacs_ mentioned in scripture; in which essay he took up the idea of mede, that these demoniacs were _madmen_. dr. farmer's essay upon the _learning of shakespeare_ is, in respect to the materials, arguments, and conclusions--what the late bishop of salisbury's [douglas] was upon _miracles_--original, powerful, and incontrovertible. never was there an octavo volume, like farmer's upon shakespeare--which embraced so many, and such curious, points, and which displayed such research, ingenuity, and acuteness--put forth with so little pomp, parade, or pedantry. its popularity was remarkable; for it delighted both the superficial and deeply-versed reader in black-letter lore. dr. parr's well applied ciceronian phrase, in lauding the "ingenious and joy-inspiring language" of farmer, gives us some notion of the colloquial powers of this acute bibliomaniac; whose books were generally scattered upon the floor, as lysander above observes, like old richard smith's "stitched bundles." farmer had his foragers; his jackalls: and his avant-couriers: for it was well known how dearly he loved every thing that was interesting and rare in the literature of former ages. as he walked the streets of london--careless of his dress--and whether his wig was full-bottomed or narrow-bottomed--he would talk and "mutter strange speeches" to himself; thinking all the time, i ween, of some curious discovery he had recently made in the aforesaid precious black-letter tomes. but the reader is impatient for the _bibliotheca farmeriana_: the title to the catalogue whereof is as follows. "_bibl. farm. a catalogue of the curious, valuable, and extensive library in print and manuscript, of the late_ rev. richard farmer, _d.d., canon residentiary of st. paul's; master of emanuel college: librarian to the university of cambridge; and fellow of the royal & antiquary societies_ (deceased, &c.) sold by auction by mr. king; may, ," vo. [ articles]. the collection is justly said, in the title page, to contain the "most rare and copious assemblage of _old english poetry_ that, perhaps, was ever exhibited at one view; together with a great variety of _old plays_, and early printed books, english and foreign, in the black-letter." the reader has already (p. ante) had some intimation of the source to which dr. farmer was chiefly indebted for these poetical and dramatical treasures; of some of which, "hereafter followeth" an imperfect specimen: no. . marbecke (john) the book of common prayer, noted, . to. see dr. burney's long account of this very scarce book in his history of musick, vol. ii. p. , &c. £ _s._ _d._ . skinner's discovery and declaration of the inquisition of spayne, _imp. j. daye_, , to. . shippe of fooles, by brant, wood cuts, _imp. wynkyn de worde_, , to. . brunswyke's medical dictionary, translated by huet, _imp. by treveris_, . folio. . customs of the citie of london, or arnold's chronicle, with the nut-brown mayde, _ st edition_, , folio. . annalia dubrensia, or robert dover's olimpic games upon cotswold-hills, _with frontispiece_, . . barley-breake, or a warning for wantons, by w.n. , to. . britton's bowre of delights, by n.b. . to. . byrd's (will.) psalmes, sonets, and songs of sadnes and pietie made into musicke of partes. . ditto sacræ cantiones, parts; and various madrigals and canzonets, by morley, weelkes, wilbye, bateson, &c. to. . copie of a letter sent from the roaring boyes in elizium, to the two arrant knights of the grape in limbo, alderman abel and m. kilvert, the two projectors for wine; with their portraits. . turbervile's (george) epitaphs, epigrams, songs and sonets, with a discourse of the freendly affections of tymetes to pyndara his ladie, b.l. , _imp. by denham_, vo. . virgil's Æneis, the first foure bookes, translated into english heroicall verse, by richard stanyhurst, with other poetical devises thereunto annexed; _impr. by bynneman_, , vo. . essayes of a prentise in the divine art of poesie (king james vi.) _edinburgh, by vautrollier_, , vo. . fulwell's (ulpian) flower of fame, or bright renoune and fortunate raigne of king henry viii. b.l. with curious wood cuts: _imp. by will. hoskin_, , to. . flytting (the) betwixt montgomerie and polwarte, _edin._, , to. . horace's art of poetrie, pistles, and satyrs, english'd by drant, b.l. _imp. by marshe_, , to. . humours ordinarie, where a man may be verie merrie and exceeding well used for his sixpence, , to. . mastiffe whelp, with other ruff-island-like curs fetcht from among the antipodes, which bite and barke at the fantasticall humourist and abuses of the time. . merry jest of robin hood, and of his life, with a new play for to be plaied in may-games; very pleasant and full of pastime, b.l. _imp. by edward white_, to. . milton's paradise lost, in books, st _edit._ . . ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- _ nd title page_, . . ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- _ rd title page_, .--"n.b. the three foregoing articles prove that there were no less than three different title-pages used, to force the sale of the first edition of this matchless poem." s. p[aterson.] . paradyse of daynty devises, b.l. extremely scarce, _imp. by henry disle_, , to. . peele's (g.) device of the pageant borne before woolstone dixie, lord mayor of london, oct. , , b.l. see dr. f.'s note; as probably the only copy. to. . percy's (w.) sonnets to the fairest cælia, . to. . psalter (the whole) translated into english metre, which containeth an hundreth and fifty psalms. the title and first page written. _imp. by john daye_, . "this translation was by archbishop parker, and is so scarce that mr. strype tells us he could never get a sight of it." see master's history of c.c.c.c. mr. wharton supposes it never to have been published, but that the archbishop's wife gave away some copies. "it certainly (he adds) is at this time extremely scarce, and would be deservedly deemed a fortunate acquisition to those capricious students who labour to collect a library of rarities." hist. of eng. poetry, vol. iii. . it has a portrait of the archbishop. to. . somner's (henry) orpheus and eurydice, . to. . shakespeare's works, _ st edition, in folio, wants title, last leaf written from the_ to. . . metrical romances, written in the reign of richard iid. or rather about the end of the reign of henry iiid. or beginning of edward i. (see note,) _purchased at dr. monro's auction by dr. farmer_, for _l._ . these booke is called ars moriendi, of william baron, esq., to remayne for ever to the nonnye of deptford; _on vellum, bound in purple velvet_. . chaucer's noble and amorous auncyent hystory of troylus and cresyde, in fyve bokes, _imprynted by wynkyn de worde_, . here begynneth the temple of glass, _imp. by wynkyn de worde_. the castell of pleasure, _imp. by ditto_. here begynneth a lyttell treatise cleped la conusauce d'amours. _imp. by pynson_. the spectacle of lovers, _imp. by wynkyn de worde_. history of tytus and gesippus, translated out of latin into englyshe, by wyllyam walter, sometime servaunte to syr henry marney, cnyght, chaunceler of the duchy of lancastre, _imp. by ditto_. the love and complayntes betwene mars and venus. the fyrst fynders of the vii scyences artificiall, _printed by julian notarye_. guystarde and sygysmonde, translated by wyllyam walter, _imp. by wynkyn de worde_, . the complaynte of a lover's lyfe, _imp. by ditto_. here begynneth a lytel treatyse, called the disputacyon of complaynte [of] the harte, thorughe perced with the lokynge of the eye, _imp. by wynkyn de worde_. this boke is named the beaultie of women, translated out of french into englyshe, _imp. by wier_. here begynneth a lytel treatise, called the controverse betwene a lover and a jaye, lately compyled, _imp. by wynkyn de worde_. _the above very rare and ancient pieces of poetry are bound_ in one vol. _with curious wood-cuts, and in fine preservation._ 'the temple of glass alone was sold for _l._ _s._ and the present vol. may, with propriety, be deemed matchless.' all in quarto. [n.b. _these articles should have preceded_ no. ; at p. , ante.] and here, benevolent reader, let us bid farewell to richard farmer of transcendant bibliomaniacal celebrity! it is in vain to look forward for the day when book-gems, similar to those which have just been imperfectly described from the _bibl. farmeriana_, will be disposed of at similar prices. the young collector may indulge an ardent hope; but, if there be any thing of the spirit of prophecy in my humble predictions, that hope will never be realised. dr. farmer's copies were, in general, in sorry condition; the possessor caring little (like dr. francis bernard; vide p. , ante) for large margins and splendid binding. his own name, generally accompanied with a bibliographical remark, and both written in a sprawling character, usually preceded the title-page. the science (dare i venture upon so magnificent a word?) of bibliography was, even in farmer's latter time, but jejune, and of limited extent: and this will account for some of the common-place bibliographical memoranda of the owner of these volumes. we may just add that there are some few copies of this catalogue printed on _large paper_, on paper of a better quality than the small; which latter is sufficiently wretched. i possess a copy of the former kind, with the _prices_ and _purchasers' names_ affixed--and moreover, _uncut_!] a poor eulogy, this, upon farmer!--but my oratory begins to wax faint. for this reason i cannot speak with justice of the friend and fellow-critic of farmer--george steevens[ ]--of shakspearian renown! the library of this extraordinary critic and collector was sold by auction in the year ; and, being formed rather after the model of mason's, than of farmer's, it was rich to an excess in choice and rare pieces. nor is it an uninteresting occupation to observe, in looking among the prices, the enormous sums which were given for some volumes that cost steevens not a twentieth part of their produce:--but which, comparatively with their present worth, would bring considerably higher prices! what arduous contention, "_renardine shifts_," and bold bidding; what triumph on the one part, and vexation on the other, were exhibited at the book-sale!--while the auctioneer, like jove looking calmly down upon the storm which he himself had raised, kept his even temper; and "ever and anon" dealt out a gracious smile amidst all the turbulence that surrounded him! memorable æra!--the veteran collector grows young again in thinking upon the valour he then exhibited; and the juvenile collector talks "braggartly" of other times--which he calls the golden days of the bibliomania--when he reflects upon his lusty efforts in securing an _exemplar steevensianum_! [footnote : if lysander's efforts begin to relax--what must be the debilitated mental state of the poor annotator, who has accompanied the book-orator thus long and thus laboriously? can steevens receive justice at _my_ hands--when my friends, aided by hot madeira, and beauty's animating glances, acknowledge their exhausted state of intellect?! however, i will make an effort: 'nothing extenuate nor set down aught in malice.' the respectable compiler of the _gentleman's magazine_, vol. lxx. p. , has given us some amusing particulars of steevens's literary life: of his coming from hampstead to london, at the chill break of day, when the overhanging clouds were yet charged with the 'inky' purple of night--in order, like a true book-chevalier, to embrace the first dank impression, or proof sheet, of his own famous octavo edition of _shakspeare_; and of mr. bulmer's sumptuous impression of the text of the same. all this is well enough, and savours of the proper spirit of bibliomaniacism: and the edition of our immortal bard, in fifteen well printed octavo volumes, ( ) is a splendid and durable monument of the researches of george steevens. there were from to copies of the octavo edition printed upon large paper; and lord spencer possesses, by bequest, mr. steevens' own copy of the same, illustrated with a great number of rare and precious prints; to which, however, his lordship, with his usual zeal and taste, has made additions more valuable even than the gift in its original form. the vo. edition of is covetted with an eagerness of which it is not very easy to account for the cause; since the subsequent one of , in octavo volumes, is more useful on many accounts: and contains steevens's corrections and additions in every play, as well as , in particular, in that of macbeth. but i am well aware of the stubbornness and petulancy with which the previous edition is contended for in point of superiority, both round a private and public table; and, leaving the collector to revel in the luxury of an uncut, half-bound, morocco copy of the same, i push onward to a description of the _bibliotheca steevensiana_. yet a parting word respecting this edition of . i learn, from unquestionable authority, that steevens stipulated with the publishers that they should pay mr. reed _l._ for editorship, and _l._ to mr. w. harris, librarian of the royal institution, for correcting the press: nor has the editor in his preface parted from the truth, in acknowledging mr. harris to be 'an able and vigiland [transcriber's note: vigilant] assistant.' mr. h. retained, for some time, steevens' corrected copy of his own edition of , but he afterwards disposed of it, by public auction, for _l._ he has also at this present moment, mr. josiah boydell's copy of mr. felton's picture of our immortal bard; with the following inscription, painted on the back of the pannel, by mr. steevens: _may, ._ _copied by josiah boydell, at my request, from the remains of the only genuine portrait of william shakspeare._ george steevens. the engraved portrait of shakspeare, prefixed to this edition of , is by no means a faithful resemblance of mr. boydell's admirably executed copy in oil. the expenses of the edition amounted to _l._; but no copies now remain with the publishers. we will now give rather a copious, and, as it must be acknowledged, rich, sprinkling of specimens from the _bibliotheca steevensiana_, in the departments of rare old poetry and the drama. but first let us describe the title to the catalogue of the same. _a catalogue of the curious and valuable library of_ george steevens, _esq., fellow of the royal and antiquary societies (lately deceased). comprehending an extraordinary fine collection of books, &c._, sold by auction by mr. king, in king street, covent garden, may, . vo. [ articles: amount of sale _l._ _s._] old poetry. no. . gascoigne's (geo.) workes, or a hundreth sundrie flowers bounde in one small poesie, (including) supposes, com. from ariosto; jocosta, tr. from euripides, &c. b.l. _first edition. lond. impr. by bynneman_, , to. £ _s._ _d._ 'with ms. notes respecting this copy and edition by mr. steevens.' . another copy, d edition (with considerable additions); among other, the princely pleasures of kenilworth castle, the steele glass, the complainte of phylomene, b.l. _ib. impr. by abell jeffes_, , to., _with ms. references, by messrs. bowles and steevens._ . another copy, including all the aforementioned, and a delicate diet for daintie mouthde droonkardes, b.l. _lond. impr. by rich. jhones_, , vo. the glasse of gouernement, to. _b.l. russia, with ms. references_. the droome of doomesday, parts, b.l. _ib._ , to. 'the above two volumes are supposed to comprise the compleatest collection of gascoigne's works extant.' . googe (barnabe) eglogs, epytaphes, and sonnettes newly written, b.l., _small vo. fine copy in russia, lond. impr. by tho. colwell for raffe newbery, dwelynge in fleet streete a little above the conduit, in the late shop of tho. bartelet_. see mr. steevens's note to the above; in which he says there is no scarcer book in the english language, and that dr. farmer, messrs. t. warton and js. reed, had never seen another copy. . lodge (tho.) life and death of william longbeard, the most famous and witty english traitor, borne in the citty of london, accompanied with manye other most pleasant and prettie histories, to. _b.l. printed by rich. yardley and peter short_, . [cost mr. steevens _s._ _d._!] . the paradyse of dainty devises, ms. a fac-simile of the first edition, in , _finished with the greatest neatness by mr. steevens, to. in russia_. . the paradice of dainty devises, devised and written for the most part by m. edwardes, sometime of her majestie's chappell; the rest by sundry learned gentlemen, both of honor and worship. _lond. printed by edwd. allde_, , to. . the paradice of daintie devises, b.l. interleaved, _ib. printed for edw. white_, , to. breton (nich.) workes of a young wyt, trust up with a fardell of prettie fancies, profitable to young poetes, prejudicial to no man, and pleasant to every man, to pass away idle tyme withal, _b.l. to. interleaved with a ms. list of the author's works by messrs. steevens, ritson, and park: impr. at lond. nigh unto the three cranes in the vintree, by tho. dawson, and tho. gardyner_. soothern's odes, to. b.l. interleaved with copious ms. notes, and an extract from the european magazine relative to the author: _wants title, no date_. watson (tho.) passionate centurie of love, to. b.l. interleaved: the first sonnets, and the latter ones, from , in ms. _lond. impr. by john wolfe_. "the above curious collection of old poems are bound together in russia, with border of gold, and may be deemed with propriety, _matchless_." . puttenham's arte of english poesie, in bookes, with a wood-cut of queen elizabeth; _choice copy, in morocco, to. ib. printed by rich. field_, . . roy (will.) satire on cardinal wolsey, a poem; _b.l. sm._ vo. _russia, no date nor place_. . skelton (jo.) poet laureat, lyttle workes, viz. speake parot. the death of the noble prynce, king edwarde the fourthe. a treatyse of the scottes. ware the hawke, the tunnynge of elynoure rummyng, sm. vo. b.l. _impr. at lond. in crede lane, jhon kynge, and thomas marshe_, no date. mo. hereafter foloweth a lyttle booke, called colyn clout, _b.l. impr. by john wyght_, mo. hereafter foloweth a little booke of phyllip sparrow, _b.l. impr. by robert tob._ mo. hereafter foloweth a little booke which has to name, whi come ye not to courte, _b.l. impr. by john wyght_. mo. . skelton (master, poet laureat) merie tales, b.l. mo. _lond. impr. by tho. colwell, no date._ "see note, in which mr. steevens says he never saw another copy." . warren (will.) a pleasant new fancie of a foundling's device intitled and cald the nurcerie of names, with wood borders, b.l. to. _ib. impr. by rich. jhones_, . . watson (tho.) passionate centurie of love; _b.l. to. the title, dedication, and index, ms. by mr. steevens_. "manuscript poems, transcribed from a collection of ancient english poetry, in the possession of sam. lysons, esq., formerly belonging to anne cornwallis, by mr. steevens." . ---- passionate centurie of love, divided into two parts, b.l. to. _russia. lond. impr. by john wolfe_. . england's helicon, collected by john bodenham, with copious additions, and an index in ms. by mr. steevens, to. _russia, ib. printed by j.r._ . . weblee [webbe] (will.) discourse of english poetrie, together with the author's judgment, touching the reformation of our english verse, _b.l._ to. _russia, ib. by john charlewood_, . the drama; and early plays of shakespeare. . the plot of the plays of frederick and basilea, and of the deade man's fortune, the original papers which hung up by the side scenes in the playhouses, for the use of the prompter and the acter, earlier than the time of shakspeare. . anonymous, a pleasant comedie, called common conditions, _b.l. imperf. to. in russia._ "of this dramatick piece, no copy, except the foregoing mutilated one, has hitherto been discovered: with a long note by mr. steevens, and references to kirkman, langbaine, baker, reed," &c. . bale (john) tragedie, or enterlude, manifesting the chiefe promises of god unto man, compyled an. do. , b.l. to. _now first impr. at lond. by john charlewood_, . . marlow (chr.) and tho. nash, tragedie of dido, queene of carthage, played by the children of her majesties' chappell, to. _russia, lond. printed by the widdowe owin_, . . peele (geo.) the old wives tale, a pleasant conceited comedie played by the queene's majesties' players; to. _in russia; ib. impr. by john danter_, . "n.b. a second of the above is to be found in the royal library; a third copy is unknown." steevens' note. early plays of shakspeare. . the tragedie of hamlet, prince of denmark, no title, to. _lond._ . _with ms. notes, &c., by mr. steevens._ . the tragedy of hamlet, prince of denmark, to. _ib. printed by r. young_, . . the history of henrie the fourth, with the battell of shrewsburie, &c.; with the famous conceits of sir john falstaffe, part i. to. _ib. printed by s.s._ . . the same, _ib. printed for mathew lay_, , to. . the same, _ib. printed by w.w._ . _with ms. notes, &c. by mr. steevens._ . the same, _ib. printed by norton_, . . the d part of henry the fourth, continuing to his death, and coronation of henrie the fift, with the humours of sir john falstaffe and swaggering pistoll, as acted by the lord chamberlayne his servants. _first edit. to. ib. printed by v.s._ . . the same, _ib. to. printed by val. simmes_, . . the chronicle history of henry the fift, with his battell fought at agincourt in france, together with auntient pistoll, as playd by the lord chamberlayne his servants. _first edit._ to. _inlaid on large paper, ib. printed by thomas creede_, . . the chronicle history of henry the fift, &c. to. _lond._ . . the true tragedie of richarde, duke of yorke, and the death of good king henrie the sixt, as acted by the earle of pembroke his servants, to. _inlaid on large paper, ib. printed by w.w._ . . the whole contention betweene the two famous houses, lancaster and yorke, with the tragicall ends of the good duke humphrey, richard, duke of yorke, and king henrie the sixt, _divided into parts_, to. _ib. no date_. . the first and second part of the troublesome raigne of john, king of england, with the discoverie of king richard cordelion's base sonne (vulgarly named the bastard fauconbridge) also the death of king john at swinstead abbey, as acted by her majesties players, to. _lond. impr. by val. simmes_, . . the first and second part of the troublesome raigne of john, king of england, &c., _ib. printed by aug. matthews_, . . the true chronicle history of the life and death of king lear, and his three daughters, with the unfortunate life of edgar, sonne and heire to the earl of glocester, and his sullen and assumed humour of tom of bedlam, by his majestie's servants. _first edit._ to. _ib._ . . [transcriber's note: ] another edition, differing in the title-page and signature of the first leaf. to. _ib._ . . the most excellent historie of the merchant of venice, with the extreme crueltie of shylocke the jew towards the sayd merchant, in cutting a just pound of his flesh: and the obtayning of portia by his choyce of three chests, as acted by the lord chamberlaine his servants, _first edit. inlaid oil large paper; to. at london, printed by john roberts_, . . the excellent history of the merchant of venice, with the extreme crueltie of shylocke the jew; _first edit. to. inlaid on large paper, printed by john roberts_, . . a most pleasant and excellent conceited comedie of syr john falstaffe and the merrie wives of windsor, as acted by the lord chamberlaine's servants. _first edit. to. lond. printed by t.c._ . . a most pleasant and excellent conceited comedy of sir john falstaffe and the merry wives of windsor, with the swaggering vaine of antient pistoll and corporal nym, _ to. inlaid. lond._ . . the merry wives of windsor, with the humours of sir john fallstaffe, also the swaggering vaine of ancient pistoll and corporal nym, to. _lond. printed by t.h._ . . a midsommer night's dreame, as acted by the lord chamberlaine's servantes, first edit. _impr. at lond. for thos. fisher_, to. , _part of one leaf wanting_. . another copy, _first edit. inlaid, ib._ . . much adoe about nothing, as acted by the lord chamberlaine his servants, _first edit._ to. _ib. printed by val. simmes_, . . the tragedy of othello the moore of venice, as acted at the globe and at the black friers, by his majesties servants, to. _lond. printed by n.o._ , _with ms. notes and various readings by mr. steevens_. . the tragedy of othello the moore of venice, as acted at the globe and at the black friers, to. _lond. printed by a.m._ . . tragedie of othello; _ th edit._ to. _ib._ . . the tragedie of king richard the second, as acted by the lord chamberlaine his servants, to. lond. _printed by val. simmes_, . . tragedie of king richard the second, as acted by the lord chamberlaine his servants, to. _printed by w.w._ . . the tragedie of king richard the second, with new additions of the parliament scene, and the deposing of king richard, as acted by his majestie's servants at the globe, to. _lond._ , _with ms. notes, &c. by mr. steevens_. . the life and death of king richard the second, with new additions of the parliament scene, and the deposing of king richard, as acted at the globe by his majesties servants, to. _lond._ . . the tragedie of king richard the third, as acted by the lord chamberlain his servants, to. lond. _printed by tho. creede_. . _defective at the end._ . the tragedie of king richard the third, containing his treacherous plots against his brother clarence, the pitiful murther of his innocent nephews, his tirannical usurpation, with the whole course of his detested life, and most deserved death, as acted by his majesties servants, to. _lond. printed by tho. creede_, , _with notes and various readings by mr. steevens._ . the same, to. _ib._ . . tragedie of king richard the third, as acted by the king's majesties servants, to. _ib._ . . the most excellent and lamentable tragedie of romeo and juliet, to. _a fragment. lond._ . . the same, compleat, inlaid on large paper, to. _ib., impr. by tho. creede_, . [_second edition._] . the same, to. lond. , _with ms. notes and readings by mr. steevens_. . the same, to. _ib. printed by r. young_, . . a pleasant conceited historie, called the taming of the shrew, as acted by the earle of pembroke's servants. _first edit._ to. _inlaid on large paper, ib., printed by v.s._ . . a wittie and pleasant comedie, called the taming of a shrew, as acted by his majesties servants, at the blacke friers and the globe, to., _ib., printed by w.s._ . . the most lamentable tragedie of titus andronicus, as plaide by the king's majesties servants, to. _inlaid, ib., printed for edward white_, . . the history of troylus and cresseide, as acted by the king's majesties servants at the globe. _first. edit._ to., _ib., imp. by g. alde_, . . the lamentable tragedie of locrine, the eldest sonne of king brutus, discoursing the warres of the brittaines and hunnes, with ther discomfiture, to. _ib., printed by thomas creede_, . . the london prodigall, as plaide by the king's majesties servants, to. _ib., printed by t.c._ . . the late and much admired play called pericles, prince of tyre, with the true relation of the whole historie and fortunes of the said prince, as also the no lesse strange and worthy accidents in the birth and life of his daughter marianna, acted by his majesties servants at the globe on the banck-side, to. _ib._, . . another edition, to. _ib._ . . the first part of the true and honourable history of the life of sir john old-castle, the good lord cobham, as acted by the earle of nottingham his servants, to. _lond._ . . a yorkshire tragedy, not so new, as lamentable and true, to. lond. . . (twenty plays) published by mr. steevens, vols. _large paper, ib._, . _only copies taken off on large paper_ editions of shakspeare's works. . comedies, histories, and tragedies, published according to the true originall copies, by john heminge and hen. condell, _fol. russia. lond. printed by isaac juggard and edwd. blount_. ; _with a ms. title, and a fac-simile drawing of the portrait by mr. steevens_. . the same: d edit. folio, fine copy morocco, gilt leaves, _ib._ . _in this book is the hand writing of king charles i. by whom it was presented to sir tho. herbert, master of the revels._ . the same: d edit. with the additional plays, fol., neat and scarce, _ib._ . see _note by mr. steevens_. . the same: th edit. , folio. . hammer's (sir tho.) edition; vols. mo. _lond._ . . the same: with cuts, vols. to. _elegantly bound in hog-skin_. . pope and warburton, vols. vo. _lond._ . . ---- vols. mo., with sir thos. hammer's glossary. _dub._ . . capell, (edw.) vols. vo. lond. _printed by dryden leach_, . . johnson, (sam.) vols. vo. _lond._ . . ---- and geo. steevens, vols. vo. _ib._ . . ---- in single plays, vols. _boards, ib._ . johnson and steevens: vols. d edit. with malone's supplement, vols., and the plates from bell's edition, _ib._ . . ---- vols. d edit. _ib._ . . ---- th edit. with a glossarial index, vols. vo. _ib._ . . malone, (edm.) vols. vo. _ib._ . . ---- another copy, vols. vo. _ib._ . ran (jos.) vols. vo. oxf. . . ---- with ayscough's index, vols. vo. russia, marbled leaves, published by stockdale, _ib._ - . . eccles, vols. vo. _ib._ . . from the text of mr. malone's edit. by nichols, vols. mo. lond. . . from the text of mr. steevens, last edit. vols. mo. _ib._ . . ---- vols. mo. _ib._ . . ---- vols. mo. birm. by r. martin. . ---- vols. bell's edit. no plates. lond. . . ---- vols. mo. with annotations, bell's edit. fine paper, with plates, beautiful impressions, _ib._ . . ---- vols. mo. bell's edition; _large paper_, finest possible impressions of the plates, superbly bound in green turkey, double bands, gilt leaves, _ib._ . the dramatic works of; text corrected by geo. steevens, esq.; published by boydell and nichol, in large to., nos. with the large and small plates; first and finest impressions, , &c. n.b. three more numbers complete the work. . harding, no. , l.p. containing prints, with a portrait of lewis theobald, as published by richardson, and some account of him, by mr. steevens. . ditto, ditto. . traduit de l'anglois, toms. par. . . in german, vols. mo. zurich, . . king lear, macbeth, hamlet, othello, and julius cæsar, by jennings, lond. . . macbeth, with notes by harry rowe, mo. york, . . ---- vo. d edit. _ib._ . . antony and cleopatra, by edw. capell; vo. lond. . . the virgin queen; a drama, attempted as a sequel to shakspeare's tempest, by g.f. waldron, vo. . . ---- annotations on as you like it, by johnson and steevens, bell's edit. . ---- another copy . shakspeare's sonnets, never before imprinted, to. at lond. by g. ald, . . ---- poems, vo. _ib._ . . ---- venis [transcriber's note: venus] and adonis, vo. _ib._ . . rymer (tho.) short view of tragedy, with reflection on shakspeare, &c. vo. b. . . shakspeare restored, by lewis theobald, to. _ib._ . . whalley's (peter) on the learning of; _ib._ . remarks on a late edition of shakspeare, by zach. grey, _ib._ , and other tracts. . morris (corbyn) essay towards fixing the true standard of wit, humour, &c. vo. _ib._ . . critical observations on, by john upton; vo. d edit. lond. . . ---- illustrated, by charlotte lennox; vols. mo. _ib._ . . notes on shakspeare, by zachary grey; vols. vo. _ib._ . . beauties of shakspeare, by william dodd, vols. mo. _ib._ . . beauties of shakspeare, by wm. dodd; vols. mo. _ib._ . . ---- (revival of) text, by heath, vo. _ib._ . . observations and conjectures on some passages of, by tho. trywhit [transcriber's note: tyrwhitt]; vo. oxford, . . farmer (rich) on the learning of; vo. morocco. camb. . _only copies on this paper._ . ---- london. vo. , with mr. capell's shakspeariana, vo., _only copies printed_, . . malone (edm.) letter on, to dr. farmer; vo. _ib._ . . letter to david garrick (on a glossary to) by rich. warner, vo. _ib._ . there were copies of the catalogue of steeven's books struck off on large paper, on bastard _royal octavo_, and in _quarto_. it remains to say a few words of the celebrated collector of this very curious library. the wit, taste, and classical acquirements of george steevens are every where recorded and acknowledged. as an editor of his beloved shakspeare, he stands unrivalled; for he combined, with much recondite learning and indefatigable research, a polish of style, and vigour of expression, which are rarely found united in the same person. his definitions are sometimes both happy and singular; and his illustrations of ancient customs and manners such as might have been expected from a head so completely furnished, and a hand so thoroughly practised. i will not say that george steevens has evinced the learning of selden upon drayton, or of bentley upon phalaris; nor did his erudition, in truth, rise to the lofty and commanding pitch of these his predecessors: nor does there seem much sense or wit in hunting after every _pencil-scrap_ which this renowned bibliomaniac committed to paper--as some sadly bitten book-collectors give evidence of. if i have not greatly misunderstood the characteristics of steevens's writings, they are these--wit, elegance, gaiety, and satire, combined with almost perfect erudition in english dramatic antiquities. let us give a specimen of his classical elegance in dignifying a subject, which will be relished chiefly by grangerites. having learnt that a copy of skelton's verses on elinour rummin, the famous ale-wife of england, with her portrait in the title-page, was in the library of the cathedral of lincoln (perhaps, formerly, captain coxe's copy; vide p. , ante), he prevailed on the late dean, sir richard kaye, to bring the book to london; but as it was not suffered to go from the dean's possession, mr. s. was permitted to make a _fac-simile_ drawing of the title, at the dean's house in harley-street. this drawing he gave to richardson, the printseller, who engraved and published it among the copies of scarce portraits to illustrate granger. the acquisition of this rarity produced from him the following _jeu d'esprit_; the merit of which can only be truly appreciated by those who had the pleasure of knowing the eminent portrait collectors therein mentioned, and whose names are printed in capital letters. eleonora rediviva. to seek this nymph among the glorious dead, tir'd with his search on earth, is gulston fled:-- still for these charms enamoured musgrave sighs; to clasp these beauties ardent bindley dies: for these (while yet unstaged to public view,) impatient brand o'er half the kingdom flew; these, while their bright ideas round him play, from classic weston force the roman lay: oft too, my storer, heaven has heard thee swear, not gallia's murdered queen was half so fair: "a new europa!" cries the exulting bull, "my granger now, i thank the gods, is full:"-- even cracherode's self, whom passions rarely move, at this soft shrine has deign'd to whisper love.-- haste then, ye swains, who rumming's form adore, possess your eleanour, and sigh no more. it must be admitted that this is at once elegant and happy. * * * * * we will now say somewhat of the man himself. mr. steevens lived in a retired and eligibly situated house, just on the rise of hampstead heath. it was paled in; and had, immediately before it, a verdant lawn skirted with a variety of picturesque trees. formerly, this house has been a tavern, which was known by the name of the _upper flask_: and which my fair readers (if a single female can have the courage to peruse these bibliomaniacal pages) will recollect to have been the same to which richardson sends clarissa in one of her escapes from lovelace. here steevens lived, embosomed in books, shrubs, and trees: being either too coy, or too unsociable, to mingle with his neighbours. his habits were indeed peculiar: not much to be envied or imitated; as they sometimes betrayed the flights of a madman, and sometimes the asperities of a cynic. his attachments were warm, but fickle both in choice and duration. he would frequently part from one, with whom he had lived on terms of close intimacy, without any assignable cause; and his enmities, once fixed, were immovable. there was, indeed, a kind of venom in his antipathies; nor would he suffer his ears to be assailed, or his heat to relent, in favour of those against whom he entertained animosities, however capricious and unfounded. in _one_ pursuit only was he consistent: _one_ object only did he woo with an inflexible attachment; and that object was _dame_ drama. i have sat behind him, within a few years of his death, and watched his sedulous attention to the performances of strolling players, who used to hire a public room in hampstead; and towards whom his gallantry was something more substantial than mere admiration and applause: for he would make liberal presents of gloves, shoes, and stockings--especially to the female part of the company. his attention, and even delight, during some of the most wretched exhibitions of the dramatic art, was truly surprising; but he was then drooping under the pressure of age, and what passed before him might serve to remind him of former days, when his discernment was quick and his judgment matured. it is, however, but justice to this distinguished bibliomaniac to add that, in his literary attachments he was not influenced by merely splendid talents or exalted rank. to my predecessor herbert (for whose memory i may be allowed, at all times, to express a respectful regard) steevens seems to have shewn marked attention. i am in possession of more than a dozen original letters from him to this typographical antiquary, in which he not only evinces great friendliness of disposition, but betrays an unusual solicitude about the success of herbert's labours; and, indeed, contributes towards it by nearly a hundred notices of rare and curious books which were unknown to, or imperfectly described by, herbert himself. at the close of a long letter, in which, amongst much valuable information, there is a curious list of churchyard's _pieces_--which steevens urges herbert to publish--he thus concludes: "dear sir, "i know not where the foregoing lists of churchyard's pieces can appear with more propriety than in a work like yours; and i therefore venture to recommend them as worth republication. if you publish, from time to time, additions to your book, you may have frequent opportunity of doing similar service to old english literature, by assembling catalogues of the works of scarce, and therefore almost forgotten, authors. by occasional effusions of this kind you will afford much gratification to literary antiquaries, and preserve a constant source of amusement to yourself: for in my opinion, no man is so unhappy as he who is at a loss for something to do. your present task grows towards an end, and i therefore throw out this hint for your consideration." (_july_ , .) a little further he adds: "in your vol. ii. p. , you have but an imperfect account of tyro's '_roaring megge_,' &c. i shall therefore supply it underneath, as the book now lies before me. i have only room left to tell you i am always your very faithfully, g. steevens." but the bibliomanical spirit of the author of this letter, is attested by yet stronger evidence: _hampstead heath_, august th [transcriber's note: th], . "sir, "i have borrowed the following books for your use--dr. farmer's copy of ames, with ms. notes by himself, and an interleaved maunsell's catalogue, with yet more considerable additions by baker the antiquary. the latter i have promised to return at the end of this month, as it belongs to our university library. i should not choose to transmit either of these volumes by any uncertain conveyance; and therefore shall be glad if you will let me know how they may be safely put into your hands. if you can fix a time when you shall be in london, my servant shall wait on you with them; but i must entreat that our library book may be detained as short a time as possible. i flatter myself that it will prove of some service to you, and am, "your very humble servant, "g. steevens." the following was herbert's reply. "_cheshunt_, august th, . "sir, "as it must give you great satisfaction to know that the books were received safe by me last night, it affords me equal pleasure to send you the earliest assurance of it. i thank you sincerely for the liberty you have allowed me of keeping them till i come to london, on monday, the th of september; when i shall bring them with me, and hope to return them safe at mr. longman's, between and o'clock; where, if it may be convenient to you, i shall be very happy to meet you, and personally to thank you for the kind assistance you have afforded me. if that may not suit you, i will gladly wait on you where you shall appoint by a line left there for me; and shall ever esteem myself, "your most obliged humble servant, "w. herbert." the following, and the last, epistolary specimen of the renowned g. steevens--with which i shall treat my reader--is of a general gossipping black-letter cast; and was written two years before the preceding. _hampstead heath_, june th, . "dear sir, "a desire to know how you do, and why so long a time has elapsed since you were seen in london, together with a few queries which necessity compels me to trouble you with, must be my apology for this invasion of your retirement. can you furnish me with a transcript of the title-page to watson's sonnets or love passions, to. bl. l.? as they are not mentioned by puttenham, in , they must, i think, have appeared after that year. can you likewise afford me any account of a collection of poems, bl. l., to. by one john southern? they are addressed 'to the ryght honourable the earle of oxenforde;' the famous vere, who was so much a favourite with queen elizabeth. this book, which contains only four sheets, consists of odes, epitaphs, sonnets to diana, &c. i bought both these books, which seem to be uncommonly rare, at the late sale of major pearson's library. they are defective in their title-pages, and without your assistance must, in all probability, continue imperfect. give me leave to add my sincere hope that your long absence from london has not been the result of indisposition, and that you will forgive this interruption in your studies, from "your very faithful and obedient servant, "geo. steevens." "p.s. i hope your third volume is in the press, as it is very much enquired after." it is now time to bid farewell to the subject of this tremendous note; and most sincerely do i wish i could 'draw the curtain' upon it, and say 'good night,' with as much cheerfulness and satisfaction at [transcriber's note: as] atterbury did upon the close of his professional labours. but the latter moments of steevens were moments of mental anguish. he grew not only irritable, but outrageous; and, in full possession of his faculties, he raved in a manner which could have been expected only from a creature bred up without notions of morality or religion. neither complacency nor 'joyful hope' soothed his bed of death. his language was, too frequently, the language of imprecation; and his wishes and apprehensions such as no rational christian can think upon without agony of heart. although i am not disposed to admit the whole of the testimony of the good woman who watched by his bed-side, and paid him, when dead, the last melancholy attentions of her office--although my prejudices (as they may be called) will not allow me to believe that the windows shook, and that strange noises and deep groans were heard at midnight in his room--yet no creature of common sense (and this woman possessed the quality in an eminent degree) could mistake oaths for prayers, or boisterous treatment for calm and gentle usage. if it be said--why "draw his frailties from their drear abode?" the answer is obvious, and, i should hope, irrefragable. a duty, and a sacred one too, is due to the living. past examples operate upon future ones: and posterity ought to know, in the instance of this accomplished scholar and literary antiquary, that neither the sharpest wit, nor the most delicate intellectual refinement, can, alone, afford a man 'peace at the last.' the vessel of human existence must be secured by other anchors than these, when the storm of death approaches!] loren. you have seen a few similar copies in the library; which i obtained after a strenuous effort. there was certainly a very great degree of book-madness exhibited at the sale of steevens's library--and yet i remember to have witnessed stronger symptoms of the bibliomania! lis. can it be possible? does this madness 'grow with our growth, and strengthen with our strength?' will not such volcanic fury burn out in time? phil. you prevent lysander from resuming, by the number and rapidity of your interrogatories. revert to your first question. lis. truly, i forget it. but proceed with your history, lysander; and pardon my abruptness. lysand. upon condition that you promise not to interrupt me again this evening? lis. i pledge my word. proceed. lysand. having dispatched our account of the sale of the last-mentioned distinguished book-collector, i proceed with my historical survey: tho', indeed, it is high time to close this tedious bibliomaniacal history. the hour of midnight has gone by:--and yet i will not _slur over_ my account of the remaining characters of respectability. the collections of strange[ ] and woodhouse are next, in routine, to be noticed. the catalogue of the library of the former is a great favourite of mine: the departments into which the books are divided, and the compendious descriptions of the volumes, together with the extent and variety of the collection, may afford considerable assistance to judicious bibliomaniacs. poor woodhouse:[ ] thy zeal outran thy wit: thou wert indefatigable in thy search after rare and precious _prints and books_; and thy very choice collection of both is a convincing proof that, where there is wealth and zeal, opportunities in abundance will be found for the gratification of that darling passion, or insanity, now called by the name of bibliomania! [footnote : _bibliotheca strangeiana; a catalogue of the general, curious, and extensive library of that distinguished naturalist and lover of the fine arts, the late_ john strange, esq., l.l.d. f.r.s. and s.a., many years his britannic majesty's resident at the republic of venice. comprehending an extraordinary fine collection of books and tracts, in most languages and sciences, to the number of upwards of _four-score thousand, &c._ digested by samuel paterson. sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, march , , vo., articles. this is a plain, unaffected, but exceedingly well-digested, catalogue of a very extraordinary collection of books in all departments of literature. i do not know whether it be not preferable, in point of arrangement, to any catalogue compiled by paterson. it has, however, a wretched aspect; from the extreme indifference of the paper.] [footnote : we will first give the title to the catalogue of the late mr. woodhouse's collection of prints. "_a catalogue of the choice and valuable collection of antient and modern prints, &c._, selected with the highest taste from all the collections at home and abroad, &c. sold by auction by mr. christie; january, ." the _first part_ ends with the th day's sale; the second commences with the sixth day's sale and concludes on the sixteenth, with the malborough [transcriber's note: marlborough] gems. although we may have to give specimens of some of the _rare and precious_ prints contained in this collection, in the course of part vi. of this work, yet the reader, i would fain hope, will not be displeased with the following interesting extract, with the annexed prices, of the prints from the marlborough gems. [_this assemblage, the result of twenty years' collecting, contains a greater number than ever has been at one time offered to the public.--the first volume is complete, and may be accounted unique, as all the impressions are before the numbers, the artists' names, or proofs without any letters, as in the presentation copies: the subject of cupid and psyche is with variations, and the whole may be regarded as a great rarity. those of the second volume are few in number, but in point of curiosity, no ways inferior._] lot. £ _s._ _d._ . _one._ cæsar in the temple of venus. _proof before any letters._ . _two._ no. . scipio africanus. no. . lucius c. sylla. . _two._ no. . julias cæsar; caput laureatum. [transcriber's note: julius] no. . marcus junius brutus. . _two._ no. . marcus junius brutus; cum caduceo. no. . lepidus; cum lituo. . _two._ no. . augusti caput; cum corona radiata. no. . augusti pontificis maximi insign. &c. . _two._ no. . marcellii octaviæ, filii augusti nepotis caput: opus elegantissimum. no. . liviæ protome: cum capite laureato et velato pectore: simul tiberii pueri prope adstantis caput arboris ignotæ foliis redimitum. . _two._ no. . tiberii caput juvenile. no. . germanici togati protome; cum capite laureato, facie plena, &c. . _two._ no. . agrippinæ majoris uxoris germanici & caligulæ matris caput laureatum; sub effigie dianæ. no. . ejusdem agrippinæ: sub effigie cereris. . _two._ no. . galbæ caput laureatum. no. . ejusdem galbæ caput. . _two._ no. . nervæ togati protome; cum capite laureato, plena facie; opus pulcherrimum. no. . ejusdem nervæ caput. . _two._ no. . marcianæ, trajani sororis, caput. no. . sabinæ hadriani uxoris caput. . _two._ no. . antinoi caput, cum pectore velato. no. . caracalla togati protome facie plena. . _two._ no. . caracallæ caput laureatum. no. . juliæ domnæ, severi uxoris, caput. . _two._ no. . laocoontes caput. no. . semiramidis, vel potius musæ, caput cum pectore. . _three._ no. . minervæ alcidiæ caput galeatum; operis egregii, edit. var. . _two._ no. . phocionis caput. no. . jovis et junonis capita jugata. . _three._ no. . veneris caput. no. . bacchæ caput var. . _two._ no. . hercules bibax, stans. no. . bacchus, stans. . _two._ no. . faunus tigridis pelli insidens, cauda, &c. no. . athleta, stans, qui dextra manus trigelem, &c. . _two._ no. . mercurius stans. no. . mars, stans, armatus. . _two._ no. . miles de rupe descendens, eximii sculptoris græci opus. no. . diomedes palladio potitus cum ulysse altercatione contendit. . _two._ no. . dei marini natantes. no. . miles vulneratus a militibus duobus sustentatur. . _two._ no. . miles militi vulnerato opitulato. no. . mulier stolata cum virgine. . _two._ no. . faunus pelle caprina ex humeris pendente vestitus; pedem super suggestum ignotæ figuræ figit et infantem genu sustinet. no. . alexandri magni effigies. . _two._ no. . Æneam diomedes a saxo percussum conservat. no. . pompeiæ cujusdam ob victoriam partam descriptio. . _two._ no. . amazon amazonem morientem } sustinet juxta equus. } } . no. . fragmen gemmæ bacchi, &c. } . _one._ no. . nuptiæ psyches et cupidonis, _rariss._ . _one._ no. . ditto, ditto, _rariss._ . _one._ frontispiece to second volume; _proof, before the inscription on the arms; very rare_. . _two._ no. . ptolomæus. } } . no. . metrodorus. } . _two._ no. . socrates et plato. no. . sappho. . _two._ no. . ignotum caput scyllacis opus. no. . ignotum caput. . _two._ no. . medusa. no. . hercules et iole. . _two._ no. . l. junius brutus. no. . annibal. . _two._ no. . mecænes. no. . drusus tiberii filius. . _two._ no. . caput ignotum, antonini forsan junioris. no. . equi. . _two._ no. . mercurii templum. no. . coronis. . _two._ no. . cupidonis. no. . faunus. . _three._ no. . omphale incedens. no. . biga, var. . _two._ no. . silenus, tigris, &c. var. . _two._ the vignette to the second volume; _proof, very fine, and etching, perhaps, unique_. for an interesting account of the engravings of the devonshire gems--the rival publication of those from the marlborough collection--the reader may consult mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_; vol. i. - . the entire collection of mr. woodhouse's prints produced _l._ _s._ _d._ we will now make handsome mention of the bibliotheca woodhousiana. _a catalogue of the entire, elegant, and valuable library of john woodhouse, esq., comprising a rich and extensive collection of books, &c. sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, december, ._ vo. the collection was rather choice and rich, than extensive: having only articles. some of the rarest editions in old english literature were vigorously contended for by well-known collectors: nor did the library want beautiful and useful works of a different description. the following specimens will enable the reader to form a pretty correct estimate of the general value of this collection. no. . antonie (the tragedie of) doone into english by the countesse of pembroke, r.m. g.l. lond. . mo. £ _s._ _d._ . barnabee's journal, with bessie bell, _first edit. b.m. g.l._ . mo. . bastard's (thomas) chrestoleros, seven bookes of epigrammes, _g.m. g.l._ . mo. . chaucer, by tyrwhitt, with the glossary, g.m. g.l. vol. . vo. . cokain's (sir aston) poems and plays, _with head_, r.m. g.l. vol. . vo. . a paire of turtle doves, or the history of bellora and fidelio, bl. l. to. _see ms. note by steevens_, . . burnet's history of his own times, _large paper_, r.m. g.l. vol. . to. . dodsley's collection of old plays, _large paper_, vols. . vo. _only six copies printed in this manner._ . latham's general synopsis of birds, with index, vols. with reverse plates, elegantly painted by miss stone, now mrs. smith: r.m. g.m.l. to. 'n.b. _of the above set of books, there are only_ copies.' . clarendon's history of the rebellion, with his life, large paper, vols. _boards, uncut_, , , fol. . heath's chronicle, _frontispiece and heads_, r.m. g.l. . vols. vo. . knight's life of colet, _large paper_; plates, elegant, in light brown calf, g.l.m. , vo. . knight's life of erasmus, _large paper_, plates, elegant, in light brown calf, g.l.m. , vo. . lewin's birds of great britain, with the eggs accurately figured, elegantly painted with back ground, vols. in . _a superb copy, in g.m. g.m.l._ , to. . martyn's universal conchologist; english entomologist: and aranei, or natural history of spiders, vols. elegantly coloured. _a superb copy_, in r.m. g.m.l. , , and , to. . harrison's seven triumphal arches, in honor of james i., all the [seven] parts complete; _curious and very rare_, r.m. g.l. . folio. . hearne and bryne's antiquities and views in great britain, _proof impressions_, m. g.l. , oblong folio. . skelton's (mayster) poems: colyn clout, _lond. by john whygte_. whi come ye not to courte; _lond. by john whygte_. phillyp sparow; speak parot; death of the noble prynce, &c. see note. _lond. by john kynge and thomas marshe_. merie tales; _unique_, see note. _lond. by thomas colwell_, vol. bl. l. r.m. g.l. mo. . monument of matrons, containing seven severall lamps of virginitie, by thomas bentley; bl. l. r. vols. , to. . nychodemus gospell, wood-cuts, bl. l. g.l. r.m. _lond. wynkyn de worde_, , to. . pennant's history of quadrupeds, boards, _uncut, large paper, proof plates_, , to. . the late expedition in scotlande, made by the kinges hyhnys armye, under the conduit of the ryht honourable the earl of hertforde, the yere of our lorde god, . bl. l. r.m. g.l. _lond. by reynolde wolfe_, , vo. . sommers's (lord) collection of scarce and valuable tracts, vols. r. g.l. , , , , folio. . temple of glas, bl. l. see notes by g. mason. _wynkyn de worde, no date_, to. . tour (a) through the south of england, wales, and part of ireland, in , large paper, proof plates, coloured, . n.b. "of the above book only six copies were printed." . vicar's england's parliamentary chronicle, r. g.l. complete, parts, vols. , to. . speed's theatre of great britain, maps, r. g.l. m.l. _a remarkable fine copy_, . . the myrrour and dyscrypcyon of the worlde, with many mervaylles, wood-cuts, b.m. g.l. _emprynted by me lawrence andrewe_, , folio. . the recuile of the histories of troie, translated into english by william caxton, very fair, b.m. g.l. _imprynted at london by w. copland_, , fol. . the myrroure of golde for the synfull soule, bl. l. wood-cuts. _imprynted at lond. in the fleete-strete, at the sygne of the sun, by wynkyn de worde_, , to. . barclay's (alexander) egloges, out of a boke named in latin, miserie curialium, compyled by eneas sylvius, poete and oratour, bl. l. _woodcuts, five parts, and complete_, g.m. _imprynted by wynkyn de worde_, to. . holy life and history of saynt werburge, very frutefull for all christian people to rede. poems, bl. l. g.m. _imp. by richard pynson_, , to. amount of the sale, _l._ _s._] phil. i attended the sale of woodhouse's prints and books; and discovered at it as strong symptoms of the madness of which we are discoursing as ever were exhibited on a like occasion. i have the catalogue upon fine paper, which, however, is poorly printed; but i consider it rather a curious bibliographical morçeau. lysand. make the most of it, for it will soon become scarce. and now--notwithstanding my former boast to do justice to the remaining bibliomaniacal characters of respectability--as i find my oral powers almost exhausted, i shall barely mention the sales, by auction, of the collections of wilkes, ritson, and boucher[ ]--although i ought to mention the _bibliotheca boucheriana_ with more respect than its two immediate predecessors; as the collector was a man endowed with etymological acumen and patience; and i sincerely wish the public were now receiving the benefit of the continuation of his dictionary; of which the author published so excellent a specimen, comprehending only the letter a. dr. jamieson has, to be sure, in a great measure done away the melancholy impression which lexicographical readers would otherwise have experienced--by the publication of his own unrivalled "_scottish dictionary_;" yet there is still room enough in the literary world for a continuation of boucher. [footnote : it did not, perhaps, suit lysander's notions to make mention of book-sales to which no collectors' names were affixed; but, as it has been my office, during the whole of the above conversation, to sit in a corner and take notes of what our book-orator has said, as well to correct as to enlarge the narrative, i purpose, gentle reader, prefacing the account of the above noticed three collections by the following bibliomaniacal specimen: '_a catalogue of a capital and truly valuable library, the genuine property of a gentleman of fashion, highly distinguished for his fine taste_,' &c.: sold by auction by mr. christie, may, , vo. articles: amount of the sale, _l._ _s._; being nearly _l._ an article. now for the beloved specimens: no. . baptistæ portæ de humanâ physiognomia, _with wood-cuts. hanoviæ_, , et johannis physiophili opuscula. _aug. vin._ , vo. £ _s._ _d._ . officium beatæ virginis. _this unique_ manuscript _on vellum of the th century, is enriched with highly finished miniature paintings, and is one of the most perfect and best preserved missals known in england._ . a complete set of the barbou classics, vols. _elegantly bound in green_ (_french_) morocco, with gilt leaves, vo. . gesta et vestigia danorum extra daniam, v. _large paper, with a portrait in satin of the prince to whom it is dedicated, lips: et hafn_: , to. _black morocco, gilt leaves._ n.b. 'it is supposed that the rolliad was taken from this work.' . brittania, lathmon, et villa bromhamensis, poëmatia; _bodoni, parma_, , _red morocco_, folio. . contes des fées; paris, , vo. vols. imprimÉe sur velin. this unique copy is ornamented with nineteen original drawings, and was made for the late madame royale: _elegantly bound in blue morocco and enclosed in a morocco case_. . memoires du comte de grammont. _edition printed for the comte d'artois._ _par._ . vo. this beautiful small work, from the text of which harding's edition was copied, is adorned with several high finished portraits in miniature, painted by a celebrated artist, and is elegantly bound in green morocco, with morocco case. . l'antiquité expliquée, par montfaucon, with fine plates; _large paper copy_, vol. red (french) _morocco, with gilt leaves_; and monarchie françoise, , v. l. p. _correspondently bound_, folio. . anacreontis carmina, gr. et lat. from a ms. in the vatican of the tenth century: with _beautiful coloured miniatures by piale, appropriate to each ode, in rich morocco binding_. _romæ_, . folio. early in the year in which this collection was disposed of, the very beautiful choice, and truly desirable library of george galway mills, esq. was sold by auction by mr. jeffery, in february, . my copy of this well-executed catalogue is upon _large paper_; but it has not the prices subjoined. meanwhile let the sharp-sighted bibliomaniac look at no. , , , , , , , only. thus it will be seen that the year was most singularly distinguished for _book-auction bibliomaniacism_! we now proceed to notice the sales of the libraries of those bibliomaniacs above mentioned by lysander. _a catalogue of the very valuable library of the late_ john wilkes, esq., m.p., _&c., sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, in november_, , vo.: articles. there are few articles, except the following deserving of being extracted. no. . bernier theologie portatif, lond. --boulanger recherches sur l'origine du despotisme oriental, morocco, gilt leaves. lond. , vo. 'n.b. the "recherches" were printed by mr. wilkes, at his own private printing press, in great george street, westminster, in .' . catullus, recensuit johannes wilkes; _impress. in membranis_, red morocco, gilt leaves. lond. ap. nichols, , to. . copies taken from the records of the c. of k.b. . "note in this book--printed by p.c. webe, one of the solicitors to the treasury, never published," &c. . theophrasti characteres: græce, johannes wilkes, recensuit. _impress. in membranis_, lond. , to. . wilkes's history of england, no. i. , to. next comes the account of the library of that redoubted champion of ancient lore, and anti-wartonian critic, joseph ritson. his books, upon the whole, brought very moderate sums. _a catalogue of the entire and curious library and manuscripts of the late_ joseph ritson, esq., _&c., sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, december_ , , vo. no. . skelton's (maister) workes, ms. notes, and lists of the different editions of skelton's works, and likewise of those never printed; and of these last, in whose possession many of them are, , vo. £ _s._ _d._ . jeffrey of monmouth's british history, by thompson; a great number of ms. notes, on separate papers, by mr. ritson. lond. , vo. . the sevin seages. translatit out of paris in scottis meter, be johne rolland in dalkeith, with one moralitie after everie doctouris tale, and siclike after the emprice tale, togidder with one loving landaude to everie doctour after his awin tale, and one exclamation and outcrying upon the emprerouris wife after his fals contrusit tale. _imprentit at edinburgh, be johne ros, for henrie charteris_, , to. "note in this book by mr. ritson; no other copy of this edition is known to exist, neither was it known to ames, herbert," &c. &c. . a new enterlude, never before this tyme imprinted, entreating of the life and repentance of marie magadelene [transcriber's note: magdalene], not only godlie, learned and fruitfull, but also well furnished with pleasant myrth and pastime, very delectable for those which shall heare or reade the same, _made by the learned charke [transcriber's note: clarke] lewis wager--printed_ , ms. . bibliographia scotica; anecdotes biographical and literary of scotish writers, historians, and poets, from the earliest account to the nineteenth century, in two parts, intended for publication. . shakspeare, by johnson and steevens, vols. containing a great number of manuscript notes, corrections, &c. &c. together with vols. of manuscript notes, by mr. ritson, prepared by him for the press, intending to publish it. the year ensuing (of which lysander has, very negligently, taken no notice) was distinguished for the sale of a collection of books, the like unto which had never been seen, since the days of the dispersion of the parisian collection. the title of the auction catalogue was, in part, as follows: _a catalogue of a most splendid and valuable collection of books, superb missals, original drawings, &c. the genuine property of a gentleman of distinguished taste, retiring into the country, &c._ sold by auction by mr. christie, april, , vo. articles: total amount, _l._--being almost _l._ an article. i attended both days of this sale and the reader shall judge of my own satisfaction, by that which _he_ must receive from a perusal of the following specimens of this _bibliotheca splendidissima_. no. . a most complete set of sir william dugdale's works, containing monasticon anglicanum, in vols. ; monasticon, vol. , editio secunda, vols.; monasticon, in english, with steevens's continuation, vols.; warwickshire, first edition; warwickshire, second edition, by thomas, vols.; st. paul's, first and second edition, vols.; baronage, vols.; history of imbanking, first and second editions, vols.; origines juridiciales, third edition; view of the troubles; summons of the nobility; usage of arms and office of lord chancellor. _this fine set of dugdale is elegantly bound in russia leather in volumes._ £ _s._ _d._ (now worth _l._) . biographia britannica, vols. , folio. a matchless set illustrated with portraits, fine and rare, and _elegantly bound in russia leather_. . homeri ilias et odyssea, vols. glasgow, , fol. an unique copy, on _large paper_, illustrated with flaxman's plates to the iliad, and original drawings, by miss wilkes, to the odyssey; _superbly bound in blue turkey_. . milton's poetical works, large paper, tonson, . milton's historical works, &c., by birch, vols. large paper, , vols. _elegantly bound in russia leather_. . ogilby's historical works, containing britannia, china, vols. japan, asia, africa, and america, with fine plates by hollar, vols. folio, _fine copy in russia_. . lord clarendon's history of the grand rebellion, vols. folio, _large paper, splendidly bound in morocco_, . . winwood's memorials of affairs of state, vols. . _large paper, elegantly bound, and gilt leaves_. . wood's athenæ oxonienses, vols. best edition, . _a fine copy on large paper, elegantly bound in russia, with gilt leaves_, fol. from no. to , inclusive (only volumes), there was a set of "_painted missals and curious manuscripts_," which were sold for _l._ among them, was mr. john towneley's matchless missal, decorated by the famous francesco veronese--"one of the finest productions of the kind ever imported from italy:" see no. . for an account of the books printed upon vellum in this collection, see part vi. let us close this note with the _bibliotheca boucheriana_; of which such respectable mention is above justly made by lysander. "_a catalogue of the very valuable and extensive library of the late_ rev. jonathan boucher, _a.m., f.r.s., vicar of epsom, surrey. comprehending a fine and curious collection in divinity, history, &c.: sold by auction by leigh and sotheby; in february_, ." _first part_, articles: _second part_, articles: _third part_, published in : articles. i attended many days during this sale; but such was the warm fire, directed especially towards divinity, kept up during nearly the whole of it, that it required a heavier weight of metal than i was able to bring into the field of battle to ensure any success in the contest. i cannot help adding that these catalogues are wretchedly printed.] ah, well-a-day!--have i not come to the close of my book-history? are there any other bibliomaniacs of distinction yet to notice? yes!--i well remember the book-sale events of the last four years. i well remember the curiosity excited by the collections of the marquis of lansdowne, john brand, isaac reed, richard porson, alexander dalrymple, and richard gough,[ ] and with these i must absolutely make my bibliomaniacal peroration! illustrious men!---- [footnote : for the same reason as has been adduced at p. , ante, and from a strong wish to render this _list of book auctions_ as perfect as my opportunities will allow, i shall persevere, at the foot of lysander's narrative, in submitting to the attention of the curious reader a still further account of sales than those above alluded to in the text. as this will be the last note in part v., i hope, however late the hour, or exhausted his patience, that the reader will also persevere to the close of it, and then wish the author "good night," along with his friends, whose salutations are above so dramatically described. at the very opening of the year in which mr. boucher's books were sold, the magnificent collection of the marquis of lansdowne was disposed of. i well remember the original destination of this numerous library: i well remember the long, beautiful, and classically ornamented room, in which, embellished and guarded by busts, and statues of gods and heroes, the books were ranged in quiet and unmolested order, adjoining to the noblest mansion in london. if the consideration of external, or out-of-door, objects be put out of the question, this library-room had not its superior in great britain. let us now come to particulars: "_bibliotheca lansdowniana. a catalogue of the entire library of the late most noble william_ marquis of lansdowne; _sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, &c. january_, ." vo. the following is but a slender specimen of the printed books in the lansdowne collection. no. . arthur kynge (the story of the most noble and worthy) the whiche was fyrst of the worthyes christen, and also of his noble and valyaunt knyghtes of the round table; _newly imprynted and corrected, black letter, title-page emblazoned, turkey. imp. at lond. by wyllyam coplande_, , folio. in the collection of mr. dent. £ _s._ _d._ . ashmole's (elias) institution, laws, and ceremonies of the order of the garter, plates by hollar, _l. paper, green morocco, border of gold, gilt leaves_, , folio. . chronica del rey don alonso el onzeno, roy de castilla, &c. _liter. goth. mar. verd. volladolid [transcriber's note: valladolid]._ , folio. . ---- del rey don pedro. d. enrrique [transcriber's note: enrique], y d. juan, _pampl._ , folio. . ---- des reys de portugal, d. joanno i. d. duarte, e d. alfonso, _lisboa_, , folio. . gazette, london, from the beginning, to inclusive, vol. folio. . leyes del reyno, del don philippe ii. recopilacion de las, tom. alcala, . folio. . ---- de los reynos de las indias, del don carlos ii. tom. madrid, , folio. . money; a very curious collection of single sheets, &c., and with several ms. memorandums and papers on that subject, bound in one volume. . somers' (lord) tracts, vol. lond. , . . stuart's (james) antiquities of athens, plates, vol. , , folio. . stukeley's (wm.) itinerary, cuts, _russia_, vol. in vol. , , folio. . a very rare collection of tracts, documents, and pamphlets, consisting of above volumes, tending to illustrate the history of the french revolution--together with more than volumes relative to the transactions in the low countries, between the years and , and their separation from the house of austria:--amongst the above will be found the following works. des etats generaux, &c. par. . vol. process verbaux de la première assemblée, vol. ditto de la seconde vol. ditto de la convocation vol. revolution françoise, vol. from to , wanting vol. , , and . la bastile devoilée. par. . sir james m'intosh's vindiciæ gallicæ, and numerous pieces relative to the constitution and administration of the french government, in its executive, legislative, judicial, and financial departments, by messrs. mirabeau, turgot, barrere, calonne, necker, &c. i should observe that the prints or engravings of the marquis, together with the _printed prices_ for which they, and the foregoing library, were sold, are usually added to the catalogue of the books. in the spring of , the manuscripts belonging to the same noble collector were catalogued to be sold by public auction. these manuscripts, in the preface of the _first_ volume of the catalogue, are said to 'form one of the noblest and most valuable private collections in the kingdom.' it is well known that the collection never came to the hammer; but was purchased by parliament for _l._, and is deposited in the british museum. a catalogue of it is now _sub prelo_; vide p. , ante. we are next to notice the sale by auction of the library of the late rev. john brand. the first part of this collection was disposed of in the spring of ; and the catalogue had this title: _bibliotheca brandiana. a catalogue of the unique, scarce, rare, curious, and numerous collection of works, &c., being the entire library of the late_ rev. john brand, _fellow and secretary of the antiquarian society, author of the history of newcastle, popular antiquities, &c. sold by auction by mr. stewart_, may, . this first part contained articles, or lots, of printed books; exclusively of lots of manuscripts. hereafter followeth, gentle reader, some specimens, selected almost at random, of the 'unique, scarce, rare, and curious' books contained in the said library of this far-famed secretary of the society of antiquaries. no. . _ane compendious booke of godly and spiritual songs_, bl. lett. vo. edinb. . £ _s._ _d._ . academy of pleasure, with portraits of drayton, g. withers, f. quarles, and b. jonson, lon. , vo. . a curtaine lecture, _rare and curious_, frontispiece, lond. , vo. . a banquet of jests, or change of cheare, with portrait of archee, the king's jester. _rare._ lond. , vo. . arnold's chronicle of the customs of london, a fine copy, perfect, _printed by pynson_, fol. . . an alvearie, or quadruple dictionarie, by baret. francof. fol. . . dyalogue of dives and pauper, _that is to say, the rich and the pore, fructuously tretyng upon the ten commandments_, black-letter, printed by pynson, fol. . . allot's england's parnassus, vo. . . a booke of fishing, with hooke and line, , vo. a booke of engines and traps to take polcats, buzzards, rats, mice, &c. cuts, _very rare_, [see p. , ante.] . archy's dream, sometimes jester to his majestie, but expelled the court by canterbury's malice, _very rare_, vo. . a new dialogue between the angell of god and shepherdes in the felde, black-letter. _pr. by day_, vo. . a dialogue betweene two neighbours, concernyng ceremonyes in the first year of queen mary, black-letter, with portrait of mary, by delarum, from roane, by michelwood, , vo. . a short inuentory of certayne idle inventions, black-letter, _very rare_. . a juniper lecture, with the description of all sorts of women, good and bad, _very rare_. lond. , vo. . a quip for an upstart courtier; or a quaint dispute betweene velvet breeches and cloth breeches, wherein is set downe the disorders in all estates and trades, _with portraits_. lond. printed by g.p., , to. . articles to be enquired into by various bishops, &c., in their visitations; upwards of one hundred; _a very curious, scarce, and unique collection_, to. . barbiere (john) the famous game of chesse play, cuts, . the most ancient and learned play, the philosopher's game, invented for the honourable recreation of the studious, by w.f., black-letter, , to. . a plaister for a galled horse, _very rare_, , to. [see herbert's ames, vol. i. : and p. ; ante.] . a counter blaste to tobacco. lond. , to. . bentley's (thos.) monument of matrons, containing seven severall lamps of virginitie, or distinct treatises, collated and perfect, a very fine copy, extremely rare and curious, _imprinted at london, by thomas dawson, for william seres, extremely rare_, black-letter, , to. . bert (edmund) an approved treatise of hawkes and hunting. lond. , to. . burton (wm.) seven dialogues, black-letter. lond. . george whetstone's mirrour for magistrates of cities, b.l., printed by richard jones, , to. . byshop's (john) beautifull blossomes, black-letter, imprinted by henrie cockyn, , to. . characters (viz.) the surfeit to a.b.c. lond. . dr. lupton's london and country carbonadoed and quartered into seuerall characters, . essayes and characters, by l.g., , vo. . england's jests refined and improved, , vo. . catharo's diogenes in his singularitie, wherein is comprehended his merrie baighting fit for all men's benefits: christened by him a _nettle for nice noses_, by l.t., black-letter, , to. . fages (mrs.) poems, fames roule, &c., _rare_, lond. , to. . stukeley's (wm.) itinerarium curiosum; _vols. in_ , _russia_, folio. . the blazon of jealousie, written in italian, by varchi. lond. , vo. . tracts: dial of witches, ; lancaster witches, ; trial of yorkshire witches, ; the golden fleece, ; cage of diabolical possession, to. . the most strange and admirable discoverie of the three witches of warboys, arraigned, convicted, and executed at the last assizes at huntington; for bewitching the five daughters of robert throckmorton, esq., and divers other persons, with sundrie devilish and grievous torments; and also for bewitching to death the lady crumwell. _extra rare_, to. . witches apprehended, examined, and executed for notable villanies, by them committed both by land and water, with a strange and most true triall how to know whether a woman be a witch or not: _with the plate_. _extra rare_, to. . the pleasure of princes, the art of angling, together with the ordering and dieting of the fighting cocke, , to. . the knyght of the toure; _a perfect and fine specimen of the father of english printers_, , folio. the reader (if he pleases) may consult my first volume, p. , of the _typographical antiquities of great britain_, for some account of this edition. my copy of this first part of the catalogue of brand's books is upon _large paper, with the prices inserted in the margin_. the _second part_ of the bibliotheca brandiana, containing duplicates and pamphlets, was sold in february, , by mr. stewart. there were articles. few collections attracted greater attention before, and during, the sale than did the library of the late mr. isaac reed: a critic and literary character of very respectable second-rate reputation. the public journals teemed, for a time, with book-anecdotes concerning this collection; and the _athenæum_, _monthly mirror_, _censura literaria_, _european magazine_, struck out a more bold outline of the bibliotheca reediana than did the generality of their fellow journals. reed's portrait is prefixed to the european magazine, the monthly mirror, and the catalogue of his own books: it is an indifferently stippled scraping, copied from a fine mellow mezzotint, from the characteristic pencil of romney. this latter is a private plate, and, as such, is rare. to return to the library. the preface to the catalogue was written by the rev. h.j. todd. it is brief, judicious, and impressive; giving abundant proof of the bibliomaniacal spirit of the owner of the library--who would appear to have adopted the cobler's well-known example of applying one room to almost every domestic purpose: for reed made his library 'his parlour, kitchen, and hall.' a brave and enviable spirit this!--and, in truth, what is comparable with it? but the reader is beginning to wax impatient for a more particular account. here it is: _bibliotheca reediana. a catalogue of the curious and extensive library of the late isaac reed, esq., of staple inn, deceased. comprehending a most extraordinary collection of books in english literature, &c.: sold by auction, by messrs. king and lochée: november_, , _ vo._ the following specimens of some of reed's scarce volumes are copied, in part, from the account which was inserted in the _athenæum_, vol. iii., pp. , , under the extraordinary signatures of w. caxton and w. de worde. no. . a portfolio of single-sheet ballads. £ _s._ _d._ . colman (w.) death's duel, vo., _frontispiece_. . barnefield's affectionate shepherd, _very rare_, to. . . a musical concort of heavenly harmonie, called churchyard's charitie. _see ms. notes in churchyard's pieces, by steevens, reed_, &c., , to. . churchyard's lamentable and pitiable description of the woeful warres in flanders, , to. . ---- a true discourse of the succeeding governors in the netherlands, and the civil warres there begun in , to. . ---- a light bundle of lively discourses, called churchyard's charge, presented as a new year's gift to the earl of savoy, , to. . ---- challenge, b.l., , with a copious manuscript account of his works, by j. reed, and a small octavo tract, called a discourse of rebellion, , to. . gascoigne (george) whole workes, _fine copy in russia_, to., b.l., . . cynthia, with certain sonnets, _rare_, , vo. . whetstone (george) mirror of true honor, and christain [transcriber's note: christian] nobilitie, exposing the life, death, and divine vertues of francis earl of bedford, b.l., , to. . beaumont and fletcher's philaster; or love lies a bleeding, _frontispiece_, to., . . shakspeariana, a large assemblage of tracts by various authors, relative to shakspeare, neatly bound in vols. vo. . stillingfleet (benj.) plays, never either finished or published. _the only copy ever seen by mr. reed._ . a volume of unpublished and unprinted fables, by john ellis, scrivener and translator of maphaeus. _note by mr. reed:_ 'it was given to me by mr. john sewell, bookseller, to whom mr. ellis bequeathed his manuscripts. see my account of mr. ellis in the european magazine, jan. : large to.' the volume is enriched with fine engravings, appropriate to each fable. . notitia dramatica, both printed and manuscript; containing a chronological account of the chief incidents relating to the english theatres, from nov. , to st dec. . "collected from various sources, but chiefly the public advertisers, which were lent me by mr. woodfall for the purpose. this volume contains the most material facts relating to the theatres for the last fifty years, and will be useful to any person who may wish to compile a history of the stage." isaac reed, staple's inn, aug. . . of this catalogue, there are _only twelve copies_ printed upon large paper; which were all distributed previous to the sale of the books. the common paper copies are very indifferently executed. the late mr. george baker had the completest _l.p._ copy of this catalogue in existence. before we proceed to give an account of subsequent book-sales, it may be as well to pause for a few minutes--and to take a retrospective view of the busy scene which has been, in part, described: or rather, it may be no incurious thing to lay before the reader for a future century (when the ashes of the author shall have long mouldered into their native dust) a statement of the principal book-sales which took place from november, , to november, --at messrs. leigh and sotheby's king and lochée's, and mr. stewart's. the minor ones carried on under covent-garden piazza, tom's coffee-house, &c., are not necessary to be noticed. in calculating the number of volumes, i have considered one article, or lot, with the other, to comprehend three volumes. the result is as follows. _book-sales by messrs._ leigh _and_ sotheby. volumes. rev. edward bowerbank's library. earl of halifax's mr. john voigt's sutton sharpe's, esq. george mason's, ditto mr. burdon's charles bedford's, esq. rev. charles bathurst's sir john sebright's, bt. (duplicates). bishop horsley's mr. e. edward's lieut. col. thos. velley's _four miscellaneous_ ------ , _book-sales by_ king _and_ lochÉe. volumes. r. foster's, esq. library dr. john millar's mr. c. martin's mr. daniel waldron's rev. thomas towle's mr. brice lambert's c. dilly's isaac reed's _six miscellaneous_ ------ , _book-sales by_ mr. stewart. mr. law's library lord thurlow's mr. william bryant's rev. w.w. fitzthomas's rev. john brand's george stubbs, esq. _three miscellaneous_ ------ , total sold by messrs. leigh and sotheby messrs. king and lochée mr. stewart ------- , such has been the circulation of books, within the foregoing period, by the hands of _three auctioneers only_; and the prices which a great number of _useful_ articles brought is a sufficient demonstration that books are esteemed for their _intrinsic value_, as well as for the adventitious circumstances which render them _rare_ or _curious_. but prosterity [transcriber's note: posterity] are not to judge of the prevalence of knowledge in these times by the criterion of, what are technically called, _book-sales_ only. they should be told that, within the same twelve months, thousands and tens of thousands of books of all sorts have been circulated by the _london booksellers_; and that, without travelling to know the number disposed of at bristol, liverpool, york, manchester, or exeter, it may be only necessary to state that _one distinguished house_ alone, established not quite a furlong from the railings of st. paul's cathedral, sold not far short of _two hundred thousand volumes_ within the foregoing period! if learning continue thus to thrive, and books to be considered as necessary furniture to an apartment; if wealthy merchants are resolved upon procuring large paper copies, as well as indian spices and russian furs; we may hail, in anticipation, that glorious period when the book-fairs of _leipsic_ shall be forgotten in the superior splendour of those of _london_! but to return to our chronological order: the ensuing year, , was distinguished for no small mischief excited in the bibliomaniacal world by the sales of many curious and detached libraries. the second part of mr. brand's collection which was sold in the spring of this year, has been already noticed. the close of the year witnessed the sales, by auction, of the books of samuel ewer, esq. (retiring into the country), and of mr. machel stace, bookseller. the former collection was very strong in bibliography; and the latter presented a singularly valuable 'collection of rare and select' books, relating to old english literature elegantly bound: containing articles. mr. stace had published, the preceding year, '_a catalogue of curious and scarce books and tracts_:' which, with the preceding, merit a snug place upon the bibliographer's shelf. we now enter upon a more busy year of sales of books by auction. the bibliomania had only increased by the preceding displays of precious and magnificent volumes. and first came on, in magnitude and inportance [transcriber's note: importance], the sales of alexander dalrymple and professor porson. of these in turn. _a catalogue of the extensive and valuable library of books: part i. late the property of_ alex. dalrymple, esq. f.r.s., _deceased_. hydrographer to the board of admiralty, and the hon. east india company, &c., sold by auction by king and lochée, may , , vo.-- articles: _a catalogue, &c., part ii. of the same: sold by auction by the same_: nov. .-- articles. i should add that there is a stippled engraving of dalrymple, with fac-simile of his hand-writing, which faces the title page to _part first_ of this extraordinary and numerous collection; of books of geography, voyages, and travels. i strongly recommend copies of these catalogues to be in every library of extent and utility. we are now to notice: _a catalogue of part of the library of the late richard porson, a.m., greek professor of the university of cambridge_, &c.: sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, june th, , vo.-- articles: amount of the books, _l._ _s._ _d._ the subjoined is rather a rich, though brief, specimen of some of the valuable books contained in the library of this profound greek scholar; in whom the acuteness of bentley, and the erudition of hemsterhusius, were more than revived. no. . biblia græca, et novum testamentum græce, lectionibus d.j.j. griesbach, vols., boards, uncut, ms. notes at the beginning of each vol. hal. sax. - , vo. £ _s._ _d._ the notes amounted to the correction of typographical errors and addition to a note of griesbach's, consisting of authorities he ought to have added. . athenæus, gr. lat., cum animadversionibus i. casauboni, vols., ms. notes, lugduni, , folio. . chariton de amor. chaeræ et callirrhoe, gr. lat. cum animadversionibus, j.p. d'orville--amst. , to. porson's note in the beginning. 'opus plenum eruditionis, judicii et sagacitatis non item.' . homeri ilias et odyssea (the grenville edition) boards, uncut, with the original portrait. oxoniæ, to., _large paper_: vols. . eustathius in homerum, vols., morocco, gilt leaves, par. , fol. . shakspeare's (william) plays by johnson and steevens, vols., boards, uncut, , vo. anecdotes and memoirs of richard porson are strewn, like spring flowers in an extensive pasture, in almost every newspaper, magazine, and journal. among the latter, there is an interesting one by dr. adam clarke in the _classical journal_, no. iv., p. . the _hand-writing_ of porson is a theme of general admiration, and justly so; but his _greek_ characters have always struck me as being more stiff and cramped than his roman and italic. i well remember when he shewed me, and expatiated eloquently upon, the famous ms. of plato, of the th century. poor fillingham was of the party. little did i then expect that three years only would deprive the world of its great classical ornament, and myself of a well-informed and gentle-hearted friend! we will now close our account of the book-ravages in the year , by noticing the dispersion of a few minor corps of bibliomaniacal troops, in the shape of printed volumes. _bibliotheca maddisoniana: a catalogue of the extensive and valuable library of the late_ john maddison, _esq., of the foreign department in the post office, &c._: sold by auction by king and lochée, march, , vo. a judicious and elegant collection. articles. ii. _a catalogue of a curious, valuable, and rare collection of books in typography, history, voyages, early english poetvy [transcriber's note: poetry], romances, classics_, &c.: the property of a collector well known for his literary taste, &c. sold by auction by mr. stewart, april, , vo. some curious volumes were in these articles or lots. iii. _a catalogue of the very valuable and elegant library of_ emperor john alexander woodford, esq., sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, may, , vo.-- articles. this was a sumptuous collection; and the books, in general, brought large prices, from being sharply contended for. iv. _a catalogue of the interesting and curious historical and biographical part of the_ library of a gentleman, particularly interesting, during the reign of elizabeth, the grand rebellion, the usurpation, restoration, and abdication, &c., sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, in may, , vo. only articles; but a singularly curious and elegant collection; the catalogue of which i strongly recommend to all 'curious, prying, and inquisitive' bibliomaniacs. the first half of the ensuing year, , was yet more distinguished for the zeal and energy--shall i say madness?--displayed at book-auctions. the sale of mr. gough's books excited an unusual ferment among english antiquaries: but the sale of a more extensive, and truly beautifully classical, collection in pall mall, excited still stronger sensations. as the _prices_ for some of the articles sold in the gough collection have already been printed in the _gentleman's magazine_, vol. lxxx., pt. ii., and as those for which some of the _latter_ collection were sold, appeared in the th number of _the classical journal_, it only remains for me to subjoin the following account. i. _a catalogue of the entire and valuable library (with the exception of the department of topography, bequeathed to the bodleian library) of that eminent antiquary_, richard gough, esq., deceased, &c., sold by auction by leigh and sotheby, april, , vo.-- articles. the manuscripts conclude the catalogue, at no. . prefixed to the printed books, there is an account of the collector, mr. gough, executed by the faithful pen of mr. nichols. my own humble opinion of this celebrated antiquary has already been before the public: _typog. antiquit._, vol. i., . ii. _a catalogue of books containing all the rare, useful, and valuable publications in every department of literature, from the first invention of printing to the present time, all of which are in the most perfect condition, &c._: sold by auction by mr. jeffery, may, , vo.-- articles. another catalogue of the same collection, elegantly printed in royal octavo, but omitting the auctioneer's notices of the relative value of certain editions, was published by mr. constable of edinburgh, bookseller: with the prices and purchasers' names subjoined: and of which it is said only copies are printed. the rev. mr. heath is reported to have been the owner of this truly select and sumptuous classical library: the sale of which produced _l._ never did the bibliomaniac's eye alight upon 'sweeter copies'--as the phrase is; and never did the bibliomaniacal barometer rise higher than at this sale! the most marked phrensy characterized it. a copy of the editio princeps of homer (by no means a first-rate one) brought _l._: and all the aldine classics produced such an electricity of sensation that buyers stuck at nothing to embrace them! do not let it hence be said that _black-letter lore_ is the only fashionable pursuit of the present age of book-collectors. this sale may be hailed as the omen of better and brighter prospects in literature in general: and many a useful philological work, although printed in the latin or italian language--and which had been sleeping, unmolested, upon a bookseller's shelf these dozen years--will now start up from its slumber, and walk abroad in a new atmosphere, and be noticed and 'made much of.' here i terminate my _annotation labours_ relating to anecdotes of book-collectors, and accounts of book-auctions. unless i am greatly deceived, these labours have not been thrown away. they may serve, as well to awaken curiosity in regard to yet further interesting memoranda respecting scholars, as to shew the progressive value of books, and the increase of the disease called the bibliomania. some of the most curious volumes in english literature have in these notes, been duly recorded; nor can i conclude such a laborious, though humble, task, without indulging a fond hope that this account will be consulted by all those who make book-collecting their amusement. but it is now time to rise up, with the company described in the text, and to put on my hat and great-coat. so i make my bow, wishing, with _l'envoy_ at the close of marmion, to all, to each, a fair good night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.] loren. do you mean to have it inferred that there were no collections, of value or importance, which were sold in the mean time? lysand. i thank you for stopping me: for i am hoarse as well as stupid: i consider the foregoing only as the greater stars or constellations in the bibliographical hemisphere. others were less observed from their supposed comparative insignificancy; although, if you had attended the auctions, you would have found in them many very useful, and even rare and splendid, productions. but we are all 'tickled with the whistling of a name!' loren. ay, and naturally enough too. if i look at my stubbes's _anatomy of abuses_, which has received _your abuse_ this evening, and fancy that the leaves have been turned over by the scientific hand of pearson, farmer, or steevens, i experience, by association of ideas, a degree of happiness which i never could have enjoyed had i obtained the volume from an unknown collector's library. lis. very true; and yet you have only master stubbes's work after all! loren. even so. but this _fictitious_ happiness, as you would call it, is, in effect, _real_ happiness; inasmuch as it produces positive sensations of delight. lis. well, there is no arguing with such a bibliomaniac as yourself, lorenzo. belin. but allow, brother, that this degree of happiness, of which you boast, is not quite so exquisite as to justify the very high terms of purchase upon which it is often times procured. lysand. there is no such thing as the 'golden mediocrity' of horace in book pursuits. certain men set their hearts upon certain copies, and '_coûte qu'il coûte_' they must secure them. undoubtedly, i would give not a little for parker's own copy of the book of _common prayer_, and shakspeare's own copy of both parts of his _henry the fourth_. alman. well, lisardo, we stand no chance of stemming the torrent against two such lusty and opiniated bibliomaniacs as my brother and lysander: although i should speak with deference of, and acknowledge with grateful respect, the extraordinary exertions of the latter, this evening, to amuse and instruct us. lis. this evening?----say, this day:--this live-long day--and yesterday also! but have you quite done, dear lysander? lysand. have you the conscience to ask for more? i have brought you down to the year of our lord _one thousand eight hundred and eleven_; and without touching upon the collections of living bibliomaniacs, or foretelling what may be the future ravages of the bibliomania in the course of only the next dozen years, i think it proper to put an end to my book-collecting history, and more especially to this long trial of your auricular patience. loren. a thousand thanks for your exertions! although your friend, with whom you are on a visit, knows pretty well the extent of my bibliographical capacity, and that there have been many parts in your narrative which were somewhat familiar to me, yet, upon the whole, there has been a great deal more of novelty, and, in this novelty, of solid instruction. sincerely, therefore lysander, i here offer you my heart-felt thanks. lysand. i receive them as cordially: from an assurance that my digressions have been overlooked; or, if noticed, forgiven. it would be gross vanity, and grosser falsehood, to affirm that the discourse of this day, on my part, has given anything like a full and explicit history of all the most eminent book-collectors and patrons of learning which have reflected such lustre upon the literary annals of our country:--no, lorenzo: a complete account, or a perfect description, of these illustrious characters would engage a conversation, not for one day--but one week. yet i have made the most of the transient hour, and, by my enthusiasm, have perhaps atoned for my deficiency of information. lis. but cannot you resume this conversation on the morrow? lysand. my stay with our friend is short, and i know not how he means to dispose of me to-morrow. but i have done--certainly done--with _personal history_! loren. that may be. yet there are other departments of the bibliomania which may be successfully discussed. the weather will probably be fine, and let us enjoy a morning _conversazione_ in the alcove? belin. surely, lysander may find something in the fruitful pigeon-holes of his imagination--as the abbè sieyes used to do--from which he may draw forth some system or other? alman. you have all talked loudly and learnedly of the book-disease; but i wish to know whether a _mere collector_ of books be a bibliomaniac? lysand. certainly not. there are symptoms of this disease _within the very books themselves_ of a bibliomaniac. alman. and pray what are these? lysand. alas, madam!--why are you so unreasonable? and how, after knowing that i have harrangued for more than 'seven hours by westminster clock'--how can you have the conscience to call upon me to protract the oration? the night has already melted into morning; and i suppose grey twilight is discoverable upon the summit of the hills. i am exhausted; and long for repose. indeed, i must wish you all a good night. belin. but you promise to commence your _symptomatic_ harangue on the morrow? lysand. if my slumbers are sound, lady fair, and i rise tolerably recruited in strength, i will surely make good my promise. again, good night! belin. sir, a very good night: and let our best thanks follow you to your pillow. alman. remember, as you sink to repose, what a quantity of good you have done, by having imparted such useful information. lysand. i shall carry your best wishes, and grateful mention of my poor labours, with me to my orisons. adieu!--'tis very late. * * * * * here the company broke up. lisardo slept at lorenzo's. philemon and lysander accompanied me to my home; and as we past lorenzo's outer gate, and looked backward upon the highest piece of rising ground, we fancied we saw the twilight of morning. never was a mortal more heartily thanked for his colloquial exertions than was lysander. on reaching home, as we separated for our respective chambers, we shook hands most cordially; and my eloquent guest returned the squeeze, in a manner which seemed to tell that he had no greater happiness at heart than that of finding a reciprocity of sentiment among those whom he tenderly esteemed. at this moment, we could have given to each other the choicest volume in our libraries; and i regretted that i had not contrived to put my black-morocco copy of the small _aldine petrarch, printed upon_ vellum, under lysander's pillow, as a 'pignus amicitiæ.'--but we were all to assemble together in lorenzo's alcove on the morrow; and this thought gave me such lively pleasure that i did not close my eyes 'till the clock had struck five. such are the bed-luxuries of a bibliomaniac! [illustration] [illustration: the reader is here presented with one of the "facs," or ornamental letters in _pierce ploughman's creed_.] part vi. =the alcove.= symptoms of the bibliomania.----probable means of its cure. "one saith this booke is too long: another, too short: the third, of due length; and for fine phrase and style, the like [of] that booke was not made a great while. it is all lies, said another; the booke is starke naught." _choice of change_; . to., sign. n. i. [illustration] [illustration] =the alcove.= symptoms of the bibliomania.----probable means of its cure. softly blew the breeze, and merrily sung the lark, when lisardo quitted his bed-chamber at seven in the morning, and rang lustily at my outer gate for admission. so early a visitor put the whole house in commotion; nor was it without betraying some marks of peevishness and irritability that, on being informed of his arrival, i sent word by the servant to know what might be the cause of such an interruption. the reader will readily forgive this trait of harshness and precipitancy, on my part, when he is informed that i was then just enjoying the "honey dew" of sleep, after many wakeful and restless hours. lisardo's name was announced: and his voice, conveyed in the sound of song-singing, from the bottom of the garden, left the name of the visitor no longer in doubt. i made an effort, and sprung from my bed; and, on looking through the venetian blinds, i discovered our young bibliomaniacal convert with a book sticking out of his pocket, another half opened in his hand (upon which his eyes were occasionally cast), and a third kept firmly under his left arm. i thrust my head, "night-cap, tassel and all," out of window, and hailed him; not, however, before a delicious breeze, wafted over a bed of mignonette, had electrified me in a manner the most agreeable imaginable. lisardo heard, and hailed me in return. his eyes sparkled with joy; his step was quick and elastic; and an unusual degree of animation seemed to pervade his whole frame. "here," says he, "here is _the british bibliographer_[ ] in my hand, a volume of mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_ in my pocket, while another, of mr. d'israeli's _curiosities of literature_, is kept snugly under my arm, as a corps de reserve, or rallying point. if these things savour not of bibliography, i must despair of ever attaining to the exalted character of a bibliomaniac!" [footnote : _the british bibliographer_ is a periodical publication; being a continuation of a similar work under the less popular title of _the censura literaria_; concerning which see p. , ante. it is a pity that mr. savage does not continue his _british librarian_; (of which numbers are already published) as it forms a creditable supplement to oldys's work under a similar title; vide p. , ante. a few of the ensuing numbers might be well devoted to an analysis of _sir william dugdale's_ works, with correct lists of the plates in the same.] "you are up betimes," said i. "what dream has disturbed your rest?" "none" replied he; "but the most delightful visions have appeared to me during my sleep. since you left lorenzo's, i have sipt nectar with leland, and drunk punch with bagford. richard murray has given me a copy of rastell's _pastime of people_,[ ] and thomas britton has bequeathed to me an entire library of the rosicrusian[ ] philosophy. moreover, the venerable form of sir thomas bodley has approached me; reminding me of my solemn promise to spend a few autumnal weeks,[ ] in the ensuing year, within the precincts of his grand library. in short, half the bibliomaniacs, whom lysander so enthusiastically commended last night, have paid their devoirs to me in my dreams, and nothing could be more handsome than their conduct towards me." [footnote : the reader may have met with some slight notices of this curious work in pp. ; ; ; ; ; ante.] [footnote : see p. , ante.] [footnote : see p. , ante.] this discourse awakened my friends, lysander and philemon; who each, from different rooms, put their heads out of window, and hailed the newly-risen sun with night caps which might have been mistaken for persian turbans. such an unexpected sight caused lisardo to burst out into a fit of laughter, and to banter my guests in his usual strain of vivacity. but on our promising him that we would speedily join his peripatetic bibliographical reveries, he gave a turn towards the left, and was quickly lost in a grove of acacia and laurustinus. for my part, instead of keeping this promise, i instinctively sought my bed; and found the observation of franklin,--of air-bathing being favourable to slumber,--abundantly verified--for i was hardly settled under the clothes 'ere i fell asleep: and, leaving my guests to make good their appointment with my visitor, i enjoyed a sweet slumber of more than two hours. as early rising produces a keen appetite for bodily, as well as mental, gratification, i found my companions clamorous for their breakfast. a little before ten o'clock, we were all prepared to make a formal attack upon muffins, cake, coffee, tea, eggs, and cold tongue. the window was thrown open; and through the branches of the clustering vine, which covered the upper part of it, the sun shot a warmer ray; while the spicy fragrance from surrounding parterres, and jessamine bowers, made even such bibliomaniacs as my guests forgetful of the gaily-coated volumes which surrounded them. at length the conversation was systematically commenced on the part of lysander. lysand. to-morrow, philemon and myself take our departure. we would willingly have staid the week; but business of a pressing nature calls _him_ to manchester--and _myself_ to bristol and exeter. lis. some bookseller,[ ] i warrant, has published a thumping catalogue at each of these places. ha!--here i have you, sober-minded lysander! you are as arrant a book-madman as any of those renowned bibliomaniacs whom you celebrated yesterday evening!--yet, if you love me, take me with you! my pistoles are not exhausted. [footnote : i ought to have noticed, under lysander's eulogy upon _london booksellers_ (see p. , ante) the very handsome manner in which mr. roscoe alludes to their valuable catalogues--as having been of service to him in directing his researches into foreign literature. his words are these: "the rich and extensive catalogues published by edwards, payne, and other _london booksellers_, who have of late years diligently sought for, and imported into england, whatever is curious or valuable in foreign literature, have also contributed to the success of my inquiries." _lorenzo de medici_: pref. p. xxvii., edit. , vo.] phil. peace, lisardo!--but you are, in truth, a bit of a prophet. it is even as you surmise. we have each received a forwarded letter, informing us of very choice and copious collections of books about to be sold at these respective places. while i take my departure for mr. ford of manchester, lorenzo is about to visit the book-treasures of mr. dyer of exeter, and mr. gutch of bristol:--but, indeed, were not this the case, our abode here must terminate on the morrow. lis. i suppose the names you have just mentioned describe the principal booksellers at the several places you intend visiting. lysand. even so: yet i will make no disparaging comparisons.[ ] we speak only of what has come within our limited experience. there may be many brave and sagacious bibliopolists whose fame has not reached our ears, nor perhaps has any one of the present circle ever heard of the late mr. miller of bungay;[ ] who, as i remember my father to have said, in spite of blindness and multifarious occupations, attached himself to the book-selling trade with inconceivable ardour and success. but a word, lisardo! [footnote : lysander is right. since the note upon mr. ford's catalogue of was written (see p. , ante), the same bookseller has put forth another voluminous catalogue, of nine thousand and odd articles; forming, with the preceding, , lots. this is doing wonders for a provincial town; and that a _commercial_ one!! of mr. gutch's spirit and enterprise some mention has been made before at p. , ante. he is, as yet, hardly _mellowed_ in his business; but a few years only will display him as thoroughly _ripened_ as any of his brethren. he comes from a worthy stock; long known at our _alma mater oxoniensis_:--and as a dutiful son of my university mother, and in common with every one who is acquainted with his respectable family, i wish him all the success which he merits. mr. george dyer of exeter is a distinguished _veteran_ in the book-trade: his catalogue of , in two parts, containing , articles, has, i think, never been equalled by that of any provincial bookseller, for the value and singularity of the greater number of the volumes described in it. as lysander had mentioned the foregoing book-vending gentlemen, i conceived myself justified in _appending_ this note. i could speak with pleasure and profit of the catalogues of booksellers to the _north of the tweed_--(see p. , ante); but for fear of awaking all the frightful passions of wrath, jealousy, envy--i stop: declaring, from the bottom of my heart, in the language of an auld northern bard: i hait flatterie; and into wourdis plane, and unaffectit language, i delyte: (_quod maister alexander arbothnat; in anno_ .)] [footnote : there is something so original in the bibliomanical character of the above-mentioned mr. miller that i trust the reader will forgive my saying a word or two concerning him. thomas miller of bungay, in suffolk, was born in , and died in . he was put apprentice to a grocer in norwich: but neither the fragrance of spices and teas, nor the lusciousness of plums and figs, could seduce young miller from his darling passion of reading, and of buying odd volumes of the _gentleman's_ and _universal magazine_ with his spare money. his genius was, however, sufficiently versatile to embrace both trades; for in , he set up for himself in the character of _grocer_ and _bookseller_. i have heard mr. otridge, of the strand, discourse most eloquently upon the brilliant manner in which mr. miller conducted his complicated concerns; and which, latterly, were devoted entirely to the _bibliomania_. although bungay was too small and obscure for a spirit like miller's to disclose its full powers, yet he continued in it till his death; and added a love of portrait and coin, to that of book, collecting. for fifty years his stock, in these twin departments, was copious and respectable; and notwithstanding total blindness, which afflicted him during the last six years of his life, he displayed uncommon cheerfulness, activity, and even skill in knowing where the different classes of books were arranged in his shop. mr. miller was a warm loyalist, and an enthusiastic admirer of mr. pitt. in , when provincial copper coins were very prevalent, our bibliomaniac caused a die of himself to be struck; intending to strike some impressions of it upon gold and silver, as well as upon copper. he began with the latter; and the die breaking when only impressions were struck off, miller, in the true spirit of numismatical _virtû_, declined having a fresh one made. view here, gentle reader, a wood-cut taken from the same: "this coin, which is very finely engraved, and bears a strong profile likeness of himself, is known to collectors by the name of 'the miller halfpenny.' mr. miller was extremely careful into whose hands the impressions went; and they are now become so rare as to produce at sales from three to five guineas." _gentleman's magazine_; vol. lxxiv., p. . [illustration]] lis. twenty, if you please. lysand. what are become of malvolio's busts and statues, of which you were so solicitous to attend the sale, not long ago? lis. i care not a brass farthing for them:--only i do rather wish that i had purchased the count de neny's _catalogue of the printed books and manscripts [transcriber's note: manuscripts] in the royal library of france_. that golden opportunity is irrevocably lost! phil. you wished for these books, to _set fire_ to them perhaps--keeping up the ancient custom so solemnly established by your father?[ ] [footnote : the reader may not object to turn for one moment to p. , ante.] lis. no more of this heart-rending subject! i thought i had made ample atonement. lysand. 'tis true: and so we forgive and forget. happy change!--and all hail this salubrious morning, which witnesses the complete and effectual conversion of lisardo! instead of laughing at our book-hobbies, and ridiculing all bibliographical studies--which, even by a bibliographer in the dry department of the law, have been rather eloquently defended and enforced[ ]--behold this young bibliomaniacal chevalier, not daunted by the rough handling of a london book-auction, anxious to mount his courser, and scour the provincial fields of bibliography! happy change! from my heart i congratulate you! [footnote : "our nation (says mr. bridgeman) has been too inattentive to bibliographical criticisms and enquiries; for, generally, the english reader is obliged to resort to foreign writers to satisfy his mind as to the value of authors. it behoves us, however, to consider that there is not a more useful, or a more desirable branch of education than a knowledge of books; which, being correctly attained, and judiciously exercised, will prove the touchstone of intrinsic merit, and have the effect of saving many a spotless page from prostitution." _legal bibliography_; , vo. (to the reader.)] lis. from the bottom of mine, i congratulate you, lysander, upon the resuming of your wonted spirits! i had imagined that the efforts of yesterday would have completely exhausted you. how rapturously do i look forward for the symptoms of the bibliomania to be told this morning in lorenzo's alcove! you have not forgotten your promise! lysand. no, indeed; but if i am able to do justice to the elucidation of so important a subject, it will be in consequence of having enjoyed a placid, though somewhat transient, slumber: notwithstanding the occurrence of a very uncommon _dream_! lis. "i dreamt a dream last night;" which has been already told--but what was yours? lysand. nay, it is silly to entertain one another with stories of phantastic visions of the night. i have known the most placid-bosomed men grow downright angry at the very introduction of such a discourse. phil. that may be; but we have, luckily, no such _placidly-moulded_ bosoms in the present society. i love this sort of gossipping during breakfast, of all things. if our host permit, do give us your dream, lysander! lis. the dream!--the dream!--i entreat you. lysand. i fear you will fall asleep, and dream yourself, before the recital of it be concluded. but i will get through it as well as i can. methought i was gently lifted from the ground into the air by a being of very superior size, but of an inexpressible sweetness of countenance. although astonished by the singularity of my situation, i was far from giving way entirely to fear; but, with a mixture of anxiety and resignation, awaited the issue of the event. my guide or protector (for so this being must now be called) looked upon me with an air of tenderness, mingled with reproof; intimating, as i conceived, that the same superior power, which had thus transported me above my natural element, would of necessity keep me in safety. this quieted my apprehensions. we had travelled together through an immensity of space, and could discover the world below as one small darkened spot, when my guide interrupted the awful silence that had been preserved, by the following exclamation: "approach, o man, the place of thy destination--compose thy perturbed spirits, and let all thy senses be awakened to a proper understanding of the scene which thou art about to behold." so saying, he moved along with an indescribable velocity; and while my eyes were dazzled by an unusual effulgence of light, i found myself at rest upon a solid seat--formed of crystal, of prodigious magnitude. my guide then fixed himself at my right hand, and after a vehement ejaculation, accompanied by gestures, which had the effect of enchantment upon me, he extended a sceptre of massive gold, decorated with emeralds and sapphires. immediately there rose up a mirror of gigantic dimensions, around which was inscribed, in fifty languages, the word "truth." i sat in mute astonishment. "examine," said my guide, with a voice the most encouraging imaginable, "examine the objects reflected upon the surface of this mirror." "there are none that are discernible to my eyes," i replied. "thou shalt soon be gratified then," resumed this extraordinary being (with a severe smile upon his countenance), "but first let me purge thine eyes from those films of prejudice which, in the world you inhabit, are apt to intercept the light of truth." he then took a handful of aromatic herbs, and, rubbing them gently upon my temples, gave me the power of contemplating, with perfect discernment, the objects before me. wonderful indeed was this scene: for upon the surface of the mirror the whole world seemed to be reflected! at first, i could not controul my feelings: but, like a child that springs forward to seize an object greatly beyond its grasp, i made an effort to leave my seat, and to _mingle_ in the extraordinary scene. here, however, my guide interfered--and, in a manner the most peremptory and decisive, forbade all further participation of it. "_view_ it attentively," replied he, "and impress firmly on thy memory what thou shalt see--it may solace thee the remainder of thy days." the authoritative air, with which these words were delivered, quite repressed and unnerved me. i obeyed, and intently viewed the objects before me. the first thing that surprised me was the representation of all the metropolitan cities of europe. london, paris, vienna, berlin, and petersburg, in particular, occupied my attention; and, what was still _more_ surprising, i seemed to be perfect master of every event going on in them--but more particularly of the transactions of _bodies corporate_. i saw presidents in their chairs, with secretaries and treasurers by their sides; and to whatever observations were made the most implicit attention was paid. here, an eloquent lecturer was declaiming upon the beauty of morality, and the deformity of vice: there, a scientific professor was unlocking the hidden treasures of nature, and explaining how providence, in all its measures, was equally wonderful and wise. the experiments which ensued, and which corroborated his ingenious and profound remarks, suspended a well-informed audience in rapturous attention; which was followed by instinctive bursts of applause. again i turned my eyes, and, contiguous to this scene, viewed the proceedings of two learned sister societies, distinguished for their labours in _philosophy_ and _antiquity_. methought i saw the spirits of newton and of dugdale, looking down with complacency upon them, and congratulating each other upon the _general_ progress of civilization since they had ceased to mingle among men. "these institutions," observed my guide, "form the basis of rational knowledge, and are the source of innumerable comforts: for the _many_ are benefitted by the researches and experiments of the _few_. it is easy to laugh at such societies, but it is not quite so easy to remedy the inconveniences which would be felt, if they were extinct. nations become powerful in proportion to their wisdom; it has uniformly been found that where philosophers lived, and learned men wrote, there the arts have flourished, and heroism and patriotism have prevailed. true it is that discrepancies will sometimes interrupt the harmony of public bodies. but why is perfection to be expected, where every thing must necessarily be imperfect? it is the duty of man to make the _nearest approaches_ to public and private happiness. and if, as with a sponge, he wipe away such establishments, genius has little incentive to exertion, and merit has still less hope of reward. now cast your eyes on a different scene." i obeyed, and, within the same city, saw a great number of asylums and institutions for the ignorant and helpless. i saw youth instructed, age protected, the afflicted comforted, and the diseased cured. my emotions at this moment were wonderfully strong--they were perceived by my guide, who immediately begged of me to consider the manner by which _epidemic maladies_ were prevented or alleviated, and especially how _the most fatal of them_ had been arrested in its progress. i attentively examined the objects before me, and saw thousands of smiling children and enraptured mothers walking confidently 'midst plague and death! i saw them, happy in the protection which had been afforded them by the most useful and most nutritious of animals! "enough," exclaimed my guide, "thou seest here the glorious result of a philosophical mind, gifted with unabatable ardour of experiment. thou wilt acknowledge that, compared with the triumph which such a mind enjoys, the conquests of heroes are puerile, and the splendour of monarchy is dim!" during this strain, i fancied i could perceive the human being, alluded to by my guide, retire apart in conversation with another distinguished friend of humanity, by those unwearied exertions the condition of many thousand poor people had been meliorated. "there is yet," resumed my guide, "another scene equally interesting as the preceding. from a pure morality flows a pure religion: look therefore on those engaged in the services of christianity." i looked, and saw a vast number of my fellow-creatures prostrate in adoration before their creator and redeemer. i fancied i could hear the last strains of their hallelujahs ascending to the spot whereon i sat. "observe," said my protector, "all do not worship in the same manner, because all assent not to the same creed; but the intention of each may be pure: at least, common charity teaches us thus to think, till some open act betray a malignity of principle. toleration is the vital spark of religion: arm the latter with the whips of persecution, and you convert her into a fiend scattering terror and dismay! in your own country you enjoy a liberty of sentiment beyond every other on the face of the globe. learn to be grateful for such an inestimable happiness." these words had hardly escaped my guide, when i was irresistibly led to look on another part of the mirror where a kind of imperial magnificence, combined with the severest discipline, prevailed. "you are contemplating," resumed my preternatural monitor, "one of the most interesting scenes in europe. see the effect of revolutionary commotions! while you view the sable spirit of the last monarch of france gliding along, at a distance, with an air of sorrow and indignation; while you observe a long line of legitimate princes, exiled from their native country, and dependant upon the contributions of other powers; mark the wonderful, the unparalleled reverse of human events! and acknowledge that the preservation of the finest specimens of art, the acquisition of every thing which can administer to the wants of luxury, or decorate the splendour of a throne--the acclamations of hired multitudes or bribed senates--can reflect little lustre on that character which still revels in the frantic wish of enslaving the world! it is true, you see yonder, vienna, petersburg, stockholm, and berlin, bereft of their ancient splendour, and bowing, as it were, at the feet of a despot--but had these latter countries kept alive one spark of that patriotism which so much endears to us the memories of greece and rome--had they not, in a great measure, become disunited by factions, we might, even in these days, however degenerate, have witnessed something like that national energy which was displayed in the bay of salamis, and on the plains of marathon." my guide perceiving me to be quite dejected during these remarks, directed my attention to another part of the mirror, which reflected the transactions of the _western_ and _eastern_ world. at first, a kind of _mist_ spread itself upon the glass, and prevented me from distinguishing any object. this, however, gradually dissolved, and was succeeded by a thick, black smoke, which involved every thing in impenetrable obscurity. just as i was about to turn to my guide, and demand the explanation of these appearances, the smoke rolled away, and instantaneously, there flashed forth a thousand bickering flames. "what," cried i, "is the meaning of these objects?" "check, for one moment, your impatience, and your curiosity shall be gratified," replied my guide. i then distinctly viewed thousands of _black men_, who had been groaning under the rod of oppression, starting up in all the transport of renovated life, and shouting aloud "we are free!" one tall commanding figure, who seemed to exercise the rights of a chieftain among them, gathered many tribes around him, and addressed them in the following few, but comprehensive, words: "countrymen, it has pleased the great god above to make man instrumental to the freedom of his fellow-creatures. while we lament our past, let us be grateful for our present, state: and never let us cease, each revolving year, to build an altar of stones to the memory, of that great and good man, who hath principally been the means of our freedom from slavery. no: we will regularly perform this solemn act, as long as there shall remain one pebble upon our shores." "thus much," resumed my guide, "for the dawning felicities of the _western_ world: but see how the _eastern_ empires are yet ignorant and unsettled!" i was about to turn my eyes to persia and india, to china and japan, when to my astonishment, the surface of the mirror became perfectly blackened, except in some few circular parts, which were tinged with the colour of blood. "the future is a fearful sight," said my guide; "we are forbidden its contemplation, and can only behold the gloomy appearances before us: they are ominous ones!" my mind, on which so many and such various objects had produced a confused effect, was quite overpowered and distracted. i leaned upon the arm of the chair, and, covering my face with my hands, became absorbed in a thousand ideas, when a sudden burst of thunder made me start from my seat--and, looking forward, i perceived that the mirror, with all its magical illusions had vanished away! my preternatural guide then placed himself before me, but in an altered female form. a hundred various coloured wings sprung from her arms, and her feet seemed to be shod with sandals of rubies; around which numerous cherubs entwined themselves. the perfume that arose from the flapping of her wings was inexpressibly grateful; and the soft silvery voices of these cherubic attendants had an effect truly enchanting. no language can adequately describe my sensations on viewing this extraordinary change of object. i gazed with rapture upon my wonderful guide, whose countenance now beamed with benevolence and beauty. "ah!" exclaimed i, "this is a vision of happiness never to be realized! thou art a being that i am doomed never to meet with in the world below." "peace:" whispered an unknown voice; "injure not thy species by such a remark: the object before thee is called by a name that is familiar to thee--it is 'candour.' she is the handmaid of truth, the sister of virtue, and the priestess of religion." i was about to make reply, when a figure of terrific mien, and enormous dimensions, rushed angrily towards me, and, taking me up in my crystal chair, bore me precipitately to the earth. in my struggles to disengage myself, i awoke: and on looking about me, with difficulty could persuade myself that i was an inhabitant of this world. my sensations were, at first, confused and unpleasant; but a reflection on the mirror of truth, and its divine expositor, in a moment tranquillized my feelings. and thus have i told you my dream. * * * * * lysander had hardly concluded the recital of his dream--during which it was impossible for us to think of quaffing coffee or devouring muffins--when the servant entered with a note from lorenzo: "my dear friend, "the morning is propitious. hasten to the alcove. my sisters are twining honey-suckles and jessamine round the portico, and i have carried thither a respectable corps of bibliographical volumes, for lysander to consult, in case his memory should fail. all here invoke the zephyrs to waft their best wishes to you. "truly your's, "lorenzo." the note was no sooner read than we all, as if by instinct, started up; and, finishing our breakfast as rapidly as did the trojans when they expected an early visit from the grecians, we sallied towards lorenzo's house, and entered his pleasure grounds. nothing could be more congenial than every circumstance and object which presented itself. the day was clear, calm, and warm; while a crisp autumnal air nimbly and sweetly recommend itself unto our gentle senses.[ ] [footnote : _macbeth_; act i., sc. vi. dr. johnson has happily observed, upon the above beautiful passage of shakespeare, that "_gentle sense_ is very elegant; as it means _placid_, _calm_, _composed_; and intimates the peaceable delight of a fine day." shakespeare's works; edit. ; vol x., p. . alain chartier, in the motto prefixed to the second part of this bibliographical romance, has given us a yet more animated, and equally characteristic, picture. thomson's serene morning, unfolding fair the last autumnal day, is also very apposite; and reminds us of one of those soft and aërial pictures of claude loraine, where a heaven-like tranquillity and peace seem to prevail. delightful scenes!--we love to steal a short moment from a bustling world, to gaze upon landscapes which appear to have been copied from the paradise of our first parents. delusive yet fascinating objects of contemplation! you whisper sweet repose, and heart-soothing delight! we turn back upon the world; and the stunning noises of virgil's cyclops put all this fair elysium to flight.] at a distance, the reapers were carrying away their last harvest load; and numerous groups of gleaners picking up the grain which they had spared, were marching homewards in all the glee of apparent happiness. immediately on our left, the cattle were grazing in a rich pasture meadow; while, before us, the white pheasant darted across the walk, and the stock-dove was heard to wail in the grove. we passed a row of orange trees, glittering with golden fruit; and, turning sharply to our right, discovered, on a gentle eminence, and skirted with a profusion of shrubs and delicately shaped trees, the wished-for alcove. we quickly descried almansa busied in twining her favourite honey-suckles round the portico; while within belinda was sitting soberly at work, as if waiting our arrival. the ladies saluted us as we approached; and lorenzo, who till now had been unperceived, came quietly from the interior, with his favourite edition of _thomson_[ ] in his hand. [footnote : this must be a favourite edition with every man of taste. it was printed by bensley, and published by du roveray, in the year . the designs were by hamilton, and the engravings principally by fittler. the copy which lorenzo had in his hand was upon _large paper_; and nothing could exceed the lustre of the type and plates. the editions of _pope_, _gray_, and _milton_, by du roveray, as well as those of _the spectator_, _guardian_, _tatler_, by messrs. sharpe and hailes, are among the most elegant, as well as accurate, publications of our old popular writers.] the alcove at a distance, had the appearance of a rustic temple.[ ] the form, though a little capricious, was picturesque; and it stood so completely embosomed in rich and variegated foliage, and commanded so fine a swell of landscape, that the visitor must be cold indeed who could approach it with the compass of palladio in one hand, and the square of inigo jones in the other. we entered and looked around us. [footnote : lorenzo was not unmindful that it had been observed by lipsius (_syntag. de bibliothecis_) and, after him, by thomasinus (_de donar. et tabell-votiv._ c. . p. .) that the ancients generally built their libraries near to, or adjoining their _temples_; "ut veram seram sedem sacratorum ingenii fætuum loca sacra esse ostenderent:" bibliothecas (inquit) procul abesse (sc. a templis) noluerunt veteres, ut ex præclaris ingeniorum monumentis dependens mortalium, gloria, in deorum tutela esset. this i gather from spizolius's _infelix literatus_: p. .] those who have relished the mild beauties of wynants' pictures would be pleased with the view from the alcove of lorenzo. the country before was varied, undulating, and the greater part, highly cultivated. some broad-spreading oaks here and there threw their protecting arms round the humble saplings; and some aspiring elms frequently reared their lofty heads, as land-marks across the county. the copses skirted the higher grounds, and a fine park-wood covered the middle part of the landscape in one broad umbrageous tone of colouring. it was not the close rusticity of hobbima--or the expansive, and sometimes complicated, scenery of berghem--or the heat-oppressive and magnificent views of both--that we contemplated; but, as has been before observed, the mild and gentle scenery of wynants; and if a cascade or dimpling brook had been near us, i could have called to my aid the transparent pencil of rysdael, in order to impress upon the reader a proper notion of the scenery. but it is high time to make mention of the conversation which ensued among the tenants of this alcove. loren. i am heartily glad we are met under such propitious circumstances. what a glorious day! alman. have you recovered, sir, the immense fatigue you must have sustained from the exertions of yesterday? my brother has no mercy upon a thoroughly-versed book guest! lysand. i am indeed quite hearty: yet, if any thing heavy and indigested hung about me, would not the contemplation of such a landscape, and such a day, restore every thing to its wonted ardour?! you cannot conceive how such a scene affects me: even to shedding tears of pleasure--from the reflections to which it gives rise. belin. how strangely and how cruelly has the character of a bibliographer been aspersed! last night you convinced me of the ardour of your enthusiasm, and of the eloquence of your expression, in regard to your favourite subject of discussion!--but, this morning, i find that you can talk in an equally impassioned manner respecting garden and woodland scenery? lysand. yes, madam: and if i possessed such a domain as does your brother, i think i could even improve it a little--especially the interior of the alcove! i don't know that i could attach to the house a more appropriate library than he has done; even if i adopted the octagonal form of the _hafod library_;[ ] which, considered with reference to its local situation, is, i think, almost unequalled:--but it strikes me that the interior of this alcove might be somewhat improved. [footnote : hafod, in cardiganshire, south wales, is the residence of thomas johnes, esq., m.p., and lord lieutenant of the county. mr. malkin, in his _scenery, antiquities, and biography, of south wales_, , to., and dr. smith, in his _tour to hafod_, , folio, have made us pretty well acquainted with the local scenery of hafod:--yet can any pen or pencil do this --paradise, open'd in the wild, perfect justice! i have seen mr. stothard's numerous little sketches of the pleasure-grounds and surrounding country, which are at once faithful and picturesque. but what were this "paridise" of rocks, waterfalls, streams, woods, copses, dells, grottos, and mountains, without the hospitable spirit of the owner--which seems to preside in, and to animate, every summer-house and alcove. the book-loving world is well acquainted with the _chronicles of froissart_, _joinville_, _de brocquiere_, and _monstrelet_, which have issued from the hafod press; and have long deplored the loss, from fire, which their author, mr. johnes, experienced in the demolition of the greater part of his house and library. the former has been rebuilt, and the latter replenished: yet no phoenix spirit can revivify the ashes of those volumes which contained the romances notified by the renowned don quixote! but i am rambling too wildly among the hafod rocks--i hasten, therefore to return and take the reader with me into the interior of mr. johnes's largest library, which is terminated by a conservatory of upwards of feet. as the ancient little books for children [hight _lac puerorum_!] used to express it--"look, here it is." [illustration]] loren. what defects do you discover here, lysander? lysand. they are rather omissions to be supplied than errors to be corrected. you have warmed the interior by a grecian-shaped stove, and you do right; but i think a few small busts in yonder recesses would not be out of character. milton, shakespeare, and locke, would produce a sort of inspiration which might accord with that degree of feeling excited by the contemplation of these external objects. loren. you are right. 'ere you revisit this spot, those inspiring gentlemen shall surround me. belin. and pray add to them the busts of thomson and cowper: for these latter, in my opinion, are our best poets in the description of rural life. you remember what cowper says-- god made the country, and man made the town? alman. this may be very well--but we forget the purpose for which we are convened. lis. true: so i entreat you, master lysander, to open--not the debate--but the discussion. lysand. you wish to know what are the symptoms of the bibliomania?--what are the badges or livery marks, in a library, of the owner of the collection being a bibliomaniac? alman. even so. my question, yesterday evening, was--if i remember well--whether a _mere collector_ of books was necessarily a bibliomaniac? lysand. yes: and to which--if i also recollect rightly--i replied that the symptoms of the disease, and the character of a bibliomaniac, were discoverable in the very books themselves! lis. how is this? alman & belin. do pray let us hear. phil. at the outset, i entreat you, lysander, not to overcharge the colouring of your picture. respect the character of your auditors; and, above all things, have mercy upon the phlogistic imagination of lisardo! lysand. i will endeavour to discharge the important office of a bibliomaniacal mentor, or, perhaps, Æsculapius, to the utmost of my power: and at all events, with the best possible intentions. before we touch upon the _symptoms_, it may be as well to say a few words respecting the _general character_ of the book disease. the ingenious peignot[ ] defines the bibliomania to be "a passion for possessing books; not so much to be instructed by them, as to gratify the eye by looking on them." this subject has amused the pens of foreigners; although we have had nothing in our own language, written expressly upon it, 'till the ingenious and elegantly-composed poem of dr. ferriar appeared; after which, as you well know, our friend put forth his whimsical brochure.[ ] [footnote : "la birliomanie [transcriber's note: bibliomanie] est la fureur de posséder des livres, non pas tant pour s'instruire, que pour les avoir et pour en repaître sa vue. le bibliomane ne connait ordinairement les livres que par leur titre, leur frontispice, et leur date; il s'attache aux bonnes editiones et les poursuit à quelque titre que ce soit; la relieure le seduit aussi, soit par son ancienneté, soit par sa beauté," &c. _dictionnaire de bibliologie_. vol. i. p. . this is sufficiently severe: see also the extracts from the _memoires de l'institut_: p. , ante. the more ancient foreign writers have not scrupled to call the bibliomania by every caustic and merciless terms: thus speaks the hard-hearted geyler: "tertia nola est, multos libros coacervare propter animi voluptatem curiosam. fastidientis stomachi est multa degustare, ait seneca. isti per multos libros vagant legentes assidue: nimirum similles fatuis illis, qui in urbe cicumeunt domos singulas, et earum picturas dissutis malis contuentur: sicque curiositate trahuntur, &c. contenti in hâc animi voluptate, quam pascunt per volumina varia devagando et liguriendo. itaque gaudent hic de larga librorum copia, operosa utique sed delectabilis sarcina, et animi jucunda distractio: imo est hæc ingens librorum copia ingens simul et laboris copia, et quietis inopia--huc illucque circum agendum ingenium: his atque illis pregravanda memoria."--_navicula sive sæculum fatuorum_, , to. sign b. iiij rev. thus speaks sebastian brandt upon the subject, through the medium of our old translation: styll am i besy bokes assemblynge for to have plenty it is a pleasaunte thynge in my conceyt, and to have them ay in honde; but what they mene do i nat understonde. _shyp of folys_: see p. , ante. there is a short, but smart and interesting, article on this head in mr. d'israeli's _curiosities of literature_: vol. i. . "bruyere has touched on this mania with humour; of such a collector (one who is fond of superb bindings only), says he, as soon as i enter his house, i am ready to faint on the stair-case from a strong smell of russia and morocco leather. in vain he shews me fine editions, gold leaves, etruscan bindings, &c.--naming them one after another, as if he were shewing a gallery of pictures!" lucian has composed a biting invective against an ignorant possessor of a vast library. "one who opens his eyes with an hideous stare at an old book; and after turning over the pages, chiefly admires _the date_ of its publication." but all this, it may be said, is only general declamation, and means nothing!] [footnote : the first work, i believe, written expressly upon the subject above discussed was a french publication, entitled _la bibliomanie_. of the earliest edition i am uninformed; but one was published at the hague in , vo. dr. ferriar's poem upon the subject, being an epistle to richard heber, esq.--and which is rightly called by lysander 'ingenious and elegant'--was published in , to.: pp. : but not before an equally ingenious, and greatly more interesting, performance, by the same able pen, had appeared in the trans. of the manchester literary society, vol. iv., p. - --entitled _comments upon sterne_; which may be fairly classed among the species of bibliomaniacal composition; inasmuch as it shews the author to be well read in old books; and, of these, in burton's anatomy of melancholy in particular. look for half a minute at p. , ante. in the same year of dr. ferriar's publication of the bibliomania, appeared the _voyage autour de ma bibliothèque roman bibliographique_: by ant. caillot; in three small duodecimo volumes. there is little ingenuity and less knowledge in these meagre volumes. my own superficial work, entitled, _bibliomania_, or _book-madness: containing some account of the history, symptoms and cure of this fatal disease; in an epistle addressed to richard heber, esq._, quickly followed dr. ferriar's publication. it contained pages, with a tolerably copious sprinkling of notes: but it had many errors and omissions, which it has been my endeavour to correct and supply in the present new edition, or rather newly-constructed work. vide preface. early in the ensuing year (namely, in ) appeared _bibliosophia, or book-wisdom: containing some account of the pride, pleasure, and privileges of that glorious vocation, book-collecting. by an aspirant. also, the twelve labours of an editor, separately pitted against those of hercules_, mo. this is a good-humoured and tersely written composition: being a sort of commentary upon my own performance. in the ensuing pages will be found some amusing poetical extracts from it. and thus take we leave of publications upon the bibliomania!] whether peignot's definition be just or not, i will not stop to determine: but when i have described to you the various symptoms, you will be better able to judge of its propriety. lis. describe them _seriatim_, as we were observing yesterday. lysand. i will; but let me put them in battle array, and select them according to their appearances. there is, first, a passion for _large paper copies_; secondly, for _uncut copies_; thirdly, for _illustrated copies_; fourthly, for _unique copies_; fifthly, for _copies printed upon vellum_; sixthly, for _first editions_; seventhly, for _true editions_; and eighthly, for _books printed in the black-letter_. belin. i have put these symptoms down in my pocket-book; and shall proceed to catechise you according to your own method. first, therefore, what is meant by large paper copies? lysand. a certain set, or limited number of the work, is printed upon paper of a _larger dimension, and superior quality_, than the ordinary copies. the press-work and ink are, always, proportionably better in these copies: and the price of them is enhanced according to their beauty and rarity. _this symptom_ of the bibliomania is, at the present day, both general and violent. indeed, there is a set of collectors, the shelves of whose libraries are always made proportionably stout, and placed at a due distance from each other, in order that they may not break down beneath the weight of such ponderous volumes. belin. can these things be? phil. yes; but you should draw a distinction, and not confound the grolliers, de thous, and colberts of modern times, with "a set of collectors," as you call them, who are equally without taste and knowledge. lis. we have heard of de thou and colbert, but who is grollier?[ ] [footnote : the reader may be better pleased with the ensuing soberly-written account of this great man than with philemon's rapturous eulogy. john grollier was born at lyons, in ; and very early displayed a propensity towards those elegant and solid pursuits which afterwards secured to him the admiration and esteem of his contemporaries. his address was easy, his manners were frank, yet polished; his demeanour was engaging, and his liberality knew no bounds. as he advanced in years, he advanced in reputation; enjoying a princely fortune, the result, in some measure, of a faithful and honourable discharge of the important diplomatic situations which he filled. he was grand treasurer to francis i., and was sent by that monarch as ambassador to pope clement vii. during his abode at rome, he did not fail to gratify his favourite passion of book-collecting; and employed the alduses to print for him an edition of terence in vo., : of which a copy _upon vellum_, was in the imperial library at vienna; see _l'imp. des alde_; vol. i., . he also caused to be published, by the same printers, an edition of his friend budæus's work, _de asse et partibus ejus_, , to.; which, as well as the terence, is dedicated to himself, and of which the presentation copy, _upon vellum_, is now in the library of count m'carthy, at toulouse: it having been formerly in the soubise collection: vide p. , ante--and no. of the _bibl. soubise_. it was during grollier's stay at rome, that the anecdote, related by egnatio, took place. 'i dined (says the latter) along with aldus, his son, manutius, and other learned men, at grollier's table. after dinner, and just as the dessert had been placed on the table, our host presented each of his guests with a pair of gloves filled with ducats.' but no man had a higher opinion of grollier, or had reason to express himself in more grateful terms of him, than de thou. this illustrious author speaks of him as "a man of equal elegance of manners, and spotlessness of character. his books seemed to be the counterpart of himself, for neatness and splendour; not being inferior to the glory attributed to the library of asinius pollio, the first who made a collection of books at rome. it is surprising, notwithstanding the number of presents which he made to his friends, and the accidents which followed on the dispersion of his library, how many of his volumes yet adorn the most distinguished libraries of paris, whose chief boast consists in having an _exemplar grollerianum_!" the fact was grollier returned to paris with an immense fortune. during his travels he had secured, from basil, venice, and rome, the most precious copies of books which could be purchased: and which he took care to have bound in a singular manner, indicative at once of his generosity and taste. the title of the book was marked in gilt letters upon one side, and the words--of which the annexed wood-cut is a fac-simile--upon the other; surrounded with similar ornaments to the extremities of the sides, whether in folio or duodecimo. [illustration: portio mea do mine sit in terra vi venti vm. beneath the title of the book: 'io: grollerii et amicorum.'] this extraordinary man, whom france may consider the first bibliomaniac of the sixteenth century, died at paris in the year , and in the th of his age. let us close this account of him with an extract from marville's _melanges d'histoire et de litérature_; "la bibliothèque de m. grollier s'est conservée dans l'hôtel de vic jusqu'à ces annêes dernieres qu'elle a été venduë à l'encan. elle meritoit bien, étant une des premieres et des plus accomplies qu'aucun particulier se soit avisé de faire à paris, de trouver, comme celle de m. de thou, un acheteur qui en conservât le lustre. la plûpart des curieux de paris ont profité de ses débris. j'en ai eu à ma part quelques volumes à qui rien ne manque: ni pour la bonté des editions de ce tems là, ni pour la beauté du papier et la propreté de la relieure. il semble, à les voir, que les muses qui ont contribué à la composition du dedans, se soient aussi appliquées à les approprier au dehors, tant il paroît d'art et d'esprit dans leurs ornemens. ils sont tous dorez avec une delicatesse inconnuë aux doreurs d'aujourd'hui. les compartemens sont pients de diverses couleurs, parfaitemente bien dessinez, et tous de differentes figures, &c.:" vol. i., p. , edit. . then follows a description, of which the reader has just had ocular demonstration. after such an account, what bibliomaniac can enjoy perfect tranquillity of mind unless he possess a _grollier copy_ of some work or other? my own, from which the preceding fac-simile was taken, is a folio edition ( ) of _rhenanus, de rebus germanicis_; in the finest preservation.] phil. lysander will best observe upon him. lysand. nay; his character cannot be in better hands. phil. grollier was both the friend and the treasurer of francis the first; the bosom companion of de thou, and a patron of the aldine family. he had learning, industry, and inflexible integrity. his notions of _virtû_ were vast, but not wild. there was a magnificence about every thing which he did or projected; and his liberality was without bounds. he was the unrivalled mecænas of book-lovers and scholars; and a more insatiable bibliomaniacal appetite was never, perhaps, possessed by any of _his_ class of character. lis. i thank you for this _grollieriana_. proceed, lysander with your large paper copies. alman. but first tell us--why are these copies so much coveted? do they contain more than the ordinary ones? lysand. not in the least. sometimes, however, an extra embellishment is thrown into the volume--but this, again, belongs to the fourth class of symptoms, called _unique copies_--and i must keep strictly to order; otherwise i shall make sad confusion. belin. keep to your large paper, exclusively.[ ] [footnote : let us first hear dr. ferriar's smooth numbers upon this tremendous symptom of the bibliomania: but devious oft, from ev'ry classic muse, the keen collector meaner paths will choose: and first the margin's breadth his soul employs, pure, snowy, broad, the type of nobler joys. in vain might homer roll the tide of song, or horace smile, or tully charm the throng; if crost by pallas' ire, the trenchant blade or too oblique, or near, the edge invade, the bibliomane exclaims, with haggard eye, 'no margin!'--turns in haste, and scorns to buy. _the bibliomania_; v. - . next come the rivals strains of 'an aspirant.' first maxim. who slaves the monkish folio through, with lore or science in his view, _him_ ... visions black, or devils blue, shall haunt at his expiring taper;-- yet, 'tis a weakness of the wise, to chuse the volume by the size, and riot in the pond'rous prize-- dear copies--_printed on_ large paper! _bibliosophia_; p. iv. after these saucy attacks, can i venture upon discoursing, in a sober note-like strain--upon those large and magnificent volumes concerning which lysander, above, pours forth such a torrent of eloquence? yes--gentle reader--i will even venture!--and will lay a silver penny to boot (see peacham's '_worth of a penny_'--) that neither dr. ferriar nor the 'aspirant' could withhold their ejaculations of rapture upon seeing any one of the following volumes walk majestically into their libraries. mark well, therefore, a few scarce works printed upon large paper. _lord bacon's essays_; , vo. there were only six copies of this edition struck off upon royal folio paper: one copy is in the cracherode collection, in the british museum; and another is in the library of earl spencer. mr. leigh, the book-auctioneer, a long time ago observed that, if ever one of these copies were to be sold at an auction, it would probably bring - _l._--! i will not insert the _first_ figure; but _two noughts_ followed it.----_twenty plays of shakspeare from the old quarto editions_; , vo., vols. only twelve copies printed upon large paper. see _bibl. steevens_: no. ; and p. , ante.----_dodsley's collection of old plays_; , vo., vols. only six copies struck off upon large paper. bibl. woodhouse, no. .----_the grenville homer_; , to., vols. fifty copies of this magnificent work are said to have been printed upon large paper; which have embellishments of plates. mr. dent possesses the copy which was professor porson's, and which was bought at the sale of the professor's library, in boards, for _l._, see p. , ante. seven years ago i saw a sumptuous copy in morocco, knocked down for _l._ _s._----_mathæi paris, monachi albanenses, &c.; historia major; a wats_; lond. ; folio. this is a rare and magnificent work upon large paper; and is usually bound in two volumes.----_historiæ anglicanæ scriptores x; a twysden_; , folio. of equal rarity and magnificence are copies of this inestimable production.----_rerum anglicarum scriptores veteres, a gale_; , ; folio, volumes. there were but few copies of this, now generally coveted, work printed upon large paper. the difference between the small and the large, for amplitude of margin and lustre of ink, is inconceivable.----_historiæ anglicanæ scriptores varii, a sparke_; lond. , folio. the preface to this work shews that there are copies of it, like those of dr. clarke's edition of cæsar's commentaries, upon paper of three different sizes. the 'charta maxima' is worthy of a conspicuous place upon the collector's shelf; though in any shape the book has a creditable aspect.----_recueil des historiens des gaules, &c., par boucquet_; , ; folio, vols. it is hardly possible for the eye to gaze upon a more intrinsically valuable work, or a finer set of volumes, than are these, as now exhibited in mr. evans's shop, and bound in fine old red morocco by the best binders of france. they were once in my possession; but the 'res angusta domi' compelled me to part with them, and to seek for a copy not so tall by head and shoulders. since the year , two additional volumes have been published. we will now discourse somewhat of english books. _scott's discoverie of whitcraft_; , to. of this work, which has recently become popular from mr. douce's frequent mention of it (illustrations of shakspeare, &c., , vols., vo.), my friend, mr. utterson, possesses a very beautiful copy upon large paper. it is rarely one meets with books printed in this country, before the year , struck off in such a manner. this copy, which is secured from 'winter and rough weather' by a stout coat of skilfully-tool'd morocco, is probably unique.----_weever's funeral monuments_; , folio. mr. samuel lysons informs me that he has a copy of this work upon large paper. i never saw, or heard of, another similar one.----_sanford's genealogical history_; , folio. at the sale of baron smyth's books, in , messrs. j. and a. arch purchased a copy of this work upon large paper for _l._ a monstrous price! a similar copy is in the library of mr. grenville, which was obtained from mr. evans of pall-mall. the curious should purchase the anterior edition (of ) for the sake of better impressions of the plates; which, however, in any condition, are neither tasteful nor well engraved. what is called '_a good hollar_' would weigh down the whole set of them!----_strype's ecclesiastical memorials_; , _folio_, vols.----_annals of the reformation_; , _folio_, vols. happy the collector who can regale himself by viewing large paper copies of these inestimable works! in any shape or condition, they are now rare. the latter is the scarcer of the two; and upon large paper brings, what the french bibliographers call, 'un prix enorme.' there is one of this kind in the beautiful library of mr. thomas grenville.----_hearne's works_--'till mr. bagster issued his first reprints of robert of gloucester and peter langtoft, upon paper of three different sizes--(of which the largest, in quarto, has hardly been equalled in modern printing)--used to bring extravagant sums at book-auctions. at a late sale in pall-mall, were [transcriber's note: where] the books in general were sold at extraordinary prices, the large paper hearnes absolutely 'hung fire'--as the sportsman's phrase is.----_hudibras, with dr. grey's annotations, and hogarth's cuts_; , vols. there were but twelve copies of this first and best edition of dr. grey's labours upon hudibras (which warburton strangely abuses--) printed upon large paper: and a noble book it is in this form!----_milner's history of winchester_; , to., vols. of this edition there were, i believe, either twelve or twenty-four copies printed upon large paper; which brings serious sums in the present general rage for books of this description.----_kennet's (bp.) parochial antiquities; oxford_, , to. the only known copy of this work upon large paper is in the fine library of sir richard colt hoare, bart. this copy was probably in the collection of 'that well-known collector, joseph browne, esq., of shepton mallet, somersetshire:' as a similar one 'in russia, gilt leaves,' was sold in pt. ii. of his collection, no. , for _l._ _s._ _d._ and purchased in the name of thornton.----_the chronicles of froissart and monstrelet_: translated by thomas johnes, esq. hafod, , , quarto, vols.: including a volume of plates to monstrelet. of these beautiful and intrinsically valuable works, there were only copies struck off upon folio; which bring tremendous prices.----_history of the town of cheltenham, and its environs_; , vo. there were a few copies of this superficial work printed upon large paper in royal octavo, and a _unique_ copy upon paper of a quarto size; which latter is in the possession of my friend mr. thomas pruen, of the same place. a part of this volume was written by myself; according to instructions which i received to make it 'light and pleasant.' an author, like a barrister, is bound in most cases to follow his instructions! as i have thus awkwardly introduced myself, i may be permitted to observe, at the foot of this note, that all the large paper copies of my own humble lucubrations have been attended with an unexpectedly successful sale. of the _introduction to the classics_, edit. , vo., there were fifty copies, with extra plates, struck off in royal octavo, and published at _l._ _s._: these now sell for _l._ _s._: the portrait of _bishop fell_ making them snapped at, with a perch-like spirit, by all true grangerites. of the _typographical antiquities_ of our own country there were printed in a superb style, upon imperial paper, in to.; these were published at _l._ _s._ a copy. the following anecdote shews how they are 'looking up'--as the book-market phrase is. my friend ---- parted with his copy; but finding that his slumbers were broken, and his dreams frightful, in consequence, he sought to regain possession of it; and cheerfully gave _l._ _s._! for what, but a few months before, he had possessed for little more than one half the sum! the same friend subscribes for a _large paper_ of the _present work_, of which there are only eighteen copies printed: and of which my hard-hearted printer and myself seize each upon a copy. will the same friend display equal fickleness in regard to this volume? if he does, he must smart acutely for it: nor will _l._ _s._ redeem it! it is justly observed, in the first edition of this work, that, 'analogous to large paper, are tall copies: that is, copies of the work published on the ordinary size paper, and barely cut down by the binder,' p. . to _dwarfise_ a volume is a 'grievous fault' on the part of any binder; but more particularly is it an unpardonable one on the part of him who has had a long intercourse with professed bibliomaniacs! to a person who knows anything of typographical arrangement, the distinction between _tall_ and _large paper_ copies is sufficiently obvious. for this reason, i am quite decided that the supposed large paper copy of _scapula's lexicon_, possessed by mr. ----, of caversham, near reading, is only a _tall_ copy of the work, as usually printed: nor is this copy more stately than another which i have seen. the owner of the volume will suppress all feelings which he may entertain against my heretical opinions (as i fear he will call them), when he considers that he may dispose of his scapula for a sum three times beyond what he gave for it. let him put it by the side of his neighbour dr. valpy's numerous large paper copies of the old folio classics, and he will in a moment be convinced of the accuracy of the foregoing remark. fine paper copies of a work should be here noticed; as they are sought after with avidity. the most beautiful work of this kind which i ever saw, was _rapin's history of england, in nine folio volumes, bound in red morocco, and illustrated with houbraken's_ heads; which sir m.m. sykes recently purchased of mr. evans, the bookseller,--for a comparatively moderate sum. a similar copy (exclusively of the illustrations) of rapin's history of england, which was once in the library of the royal institution, was burnt in the fire that destroyed covent-garden theatre; it having been sent to mr. mackinlay, the book-binder, who lived near the theatre.] lysand. i have little to add to what has been already said of this symptom. that a volume, so published, has a more pleasing aspect, cannot be denied. it is the oak, in its full growth, compared with the same tree in its sapling state: or, if you please, it is the same picture a little more brilliant in its colouring, and put into a handsomer frame. my friend marcus is a very dragon in this department of book-collecting: nothing being too formidable for his attack. let the volume assume what shape it may, and let the price be ever so unconscionable--he hesitates not to become a purchaser. in consequence, exclusively of all the _dugdales_ and _montfaucons_, upon large paper, and in the finest bindings, he possesses the _grand folio classics_, the _benedictine editions of the fathers_, the _county histories_, and all works, of a recent date, upon _history_ and the _belles lettres_. in short, nothing can be more magnificent than the interior of his library; as nothing but giants, arrayed in the most splendid attire, are seen to keep guard from one extremity of the room to the other. lis. who is this marcus? i'll rival him in due time!--but proceed. belin. thus much, i presume, for the first symptom of the bibliomania. now pray, sir, inform us what is meant by that strange term, uncut copies? lysand. of all the symptoms of the bibliomania, this is probably the most extraordinary.[ ] it may be defined a passion to possess books of which the edges have never been sheared by the binder's tools. and here i find myself walking upon doubtful ground:--your friend [turning towards me] atticus's _uncut hearnes_ rise up in "rough majesty" before me, and almost "push me from my stool." indeed, when i look around in your book-lined tub, i cannot but acknowledge that this symptom of the disorder has reached your own threshold; but when it is known that a few of your bibliographical books are left with the edges uncut _merely to please your friends_ (as one must sometimes study their tastes as well as one's own), i trust that no very serious conclusions will be drawn about the fatality of your own case. [footnote : as before, let us borrow the strains of 'an aspirant:' second maxim. who, with fantastic pruning-hook, dresses the borders of his book, merely to ornament its look-- amongst philosophers a fop is: what if, perchance, he thence discover facilities in turning over? the virtuoso is a lover of coyer charms in "uncut copies." _bibliosophia_; p. v. i have very little to add in illustration of lysander's well-pointed sarcasms relating to this _second symptom of_ book-madness. i think i once heard of an uncut _cranmer's bible_; but have actually seen a similar conditioned copy of _purchas's pilgrimes and pilgrimage_, which is now in the beautiful library of the honourable t. grenville.] as to uncut copies, although their inconvenience [an uncut lexicon to wit!] and deformity must be acknowledged, and although a rational man can wish for nothing better than a book _once well bound_, yet we find that the extraordinary passion for collecting them not only obtains with full force, but is attended with very serious consequences to those "que n'out point des pistoles" (to borrow the idea of clement; vol. vi. p. ). i dare say an uncut _first shakspeare_, as well as an _uncut vellum aldus_[ ] would produce a little annuity! [footnote : i doubt of the existence of an uncut _first shakspeare_; although we have recently had evidence of an uncut _first homer_; for thus speaks peignot: "a superb copy of this editio princeps was sold at the sale of m. de cotte's books, in , for livres: but it must be remarked that this copy was in the most exquisite preservation, as if it had just come from the press. moreover, it is probably the only one the margins of which have never been either 'shaven or shorn.'" _curiosités bibliographiques_, p. lxv. vi.; see also p. , ante. dr. harwood, at page , of his _view of the editions of the classics_, speaks of an uncut vellum aldus, of , vo. "mr. quin shewed me a fine copy of it printed in vellum with the _leaves uncut_, which he bought of mr. egerton at a very moderate price. it is, perhaps (adds he), the only _uncut_ vellum aldus in the world." from the joyous strain of this extract, the doctor may be fairly suspected of having strongly exhibited this second symptom of the bibliomania!] belin. 'tis very strange'--as hamlet says at the walking of his father's ghost! but now for your illustrated copies! lysand. you have touched a vibrating string indeed!--but i will suppress my own feelings, and spare those of my friend. a passion for books _illustrated_, or adorned with _numerous prints_[ ] representing characters, or circumstances, mentioned in the work, is a very general and violent symptom of the bibliomania. the origin, or first appearance, of this symptom, has been traced by some to the publication of the rev. ---- granger's "_biographical history of england_;" but whoever will be at the pains of reading the preface of that work will see that granger shelters himself under the authorities of evelyn, ashmole, and others; and that he _alone_ is not to be considered as responsible for all the mischief which this passion for collecting prints has occasioned. granger, however, was the first who introduced it in the form of a history; and surely "in an evil hour" was that history published; although its amiable author must be acquitted of "malice prepense." [footnote : this third symptom has not escaped the discerning eye of the manchester physician; for thus sings dr. ferriar: he pastes, from injur'd volumes snipt away, his _english heads_ in chronicled array, torn from their destin'd page (unworthy meed of knightly counsel, and heroic deed), not _faithorne's_ stroke, nor _field's_ own types can save the gallant veres, and one-eyed ogle brave. indignant readers seek the image fled, and curse the busy fool who _wants a head_. proudly he shews, with many a smile elate, the scrambling subjects of the _private plate_ while time their actions and their names bereaves, they grin for ever in the guarded leaves. _the bibliomania_; v. - . these are happy thoughts, happily expressed. in illustration of v. , the author observes,--"three fine heads, for the sake of which, the beautiful and interesting commentaries of sir francis vere have been mutilated by collectors of english portraits." dr. ferriar might have added that, when a grangerian bibliomaniac commences his illustrating career, he does not fail to make a desperate onset upon _speed_, _boissard_, and the _heroologia_. even the lovely prints of _houbraken_ (in dr. birch's account of illustrious persons of great britain) escape not the ravages of his passion for illustration. the plates which adorn these books are considered among the foundation materials of a grangerian building. but it is time, according to my plan, to introduce other sarcastic strains of poetry. third maxim. who, swearing not a line to miss, doats on the leaf his fingers kiss, thanking the _words_ for all his bliss,-- shall rue, at last, his passion frustrate: _we_ love the page that draws its flavour from draftsman, etcher, and engraver and hint the booby (by his favour) _his_ gloomy copy to "illustrate." _bibliosophia_; p. v. at this stage of our inquiries, let me submit a new remedy as an acquisition to the _materia medica_, of which many first-rate physicians may not be aware--by proposing a =recipe for illustration.= take any passage from any author--to wit: the following (which i have done, quite at random) from speed: '_henry le spenser_, the warlike _bishop of norwich_, being drawn on by _pope vrban_ to preach _the crusade_, and to be general against _clement_ (whom sundry _cardinals_ and great _prelates_ had also elected pope) having a fifteenth granted to him, for that purpose, by _parliament_,' &c. _historie of great britaine_, p. , edit. . now, let the reader observe, here are _only four_ lines; but which, to be properly illustrated, should be treated thus: st, procure all the portraits, at all periods of his life, of _henry le spencer_; dly, obtain every view, ancient and modern, like or unlike, of the city of _norwich_; and, if fortune favour you, of _every bishop of the same see_; dly, every portrait of _pope vrban_ must be procured; and as many prints and drawings as can give some notion of _the crusade_--together with a few etchings (if there be any) of _peter the hermit_ and _richard i._, who took such active parts in the crusade; thly, you must search high and low, early and late, for every print of _clement_; thly, procure, or you will be wretched, as many fine prints of _cardinals_ and _prelates_, singly or in groups, as will impress you with a proper idea of _the conclave_; and thly, see whether you may not obtain, at some of our most distinguished old-print sellers, views of the _house of parliament_ at the period (a.d. .) here described!!! the result, gentle reader, will be this: you will have work enough cut out to occupy you for one whole month at least, from rise to set of sun--in parading the streets of our metropolis: nor will the expense in _coach_ hire, or _shoe leather_, be the least which you will have to encounter! the prints themselves may cost _some_thing! lest any fastidious and cynical critic should accuse me, and with apparent justice, of gross exaggeration or ignorance in this _recipe_, i will inform him, on good authority, that a late distinguished and highly respectable female collector, who had commenced an illustrated bible, procured not fewer than _seven hundred prints_ for the illustration of the th, st, d, d, th, and th verses of the st chapter of genesis! the illustrated copy of mr. fox's historical work, mentioned in the first edition of this work, p. , is now in the possession of lord mountjoy. the similar copy of walter scott's edition of dryden's works, which has upwards of portraits, is yet in the possession of mr. miller, the bookseller.] granger's work seems to have sounded the tocsin for a general rummage after, and plunder of, old prints. venerable philosophers, and veteran heroes, who had long reposed in unmolested dignity within the magnificent folio volumes which recorded their achievements, were instantly dragged forth from their peaceful abodes, to be inlaid by the side of some clumsy modern engraving, within an _illustrated granger_! nor did the madness stop here. illustration was the order of the day; and _shakspeare_[ ] and _clarendon_ became the next objects of its attack. from these it has glanced off, in a variety of directions, to adorn the pages of humbler wights; and the passion, or rather this symptom of the bibliomania, yet rages with undiminished force. if judiciously treated, it is, of all the symptoms, the least liable to mischief. to possess a series of well-executed portraits of illustrious men, at different periods of their lives, from blooming boyhood to phlegmatic old age, is sufficiently amusing; but to possess _every_ portrait, _bad_, _indifferent_, and _unlike_, betrays such a dangerous and alarming symptom as to render the case almost incurable! [footnote : lysander would not have run on in this declamatory strain, if it had been _his_ good fortune, as it has been _mine_, to witness the extraordinary copy of an illustrated shakspeare in the possession of earl spencer; which owes its magic to the perseverance and taste of the dowager lady lucan, mother to the present countess spencer. for sixteen years did this accomplished lady pursue the pleasurable toil of illustration; having commenced it in her th, and finished it in her th year. whatever of taste, beauty, and judgment in decoration--by means of portraits, landscapes, houses, and tombs--flowers, birds, insects, heraldic ornaments, and devices,--could dress our immortal bard in a yet more fascinating form, has been accomplished by the noble hand which undertook so herculean a task--and with a truth, delicacy, and finish of execution, which have been rarely equalled! these magnificent volumes (being the folio edition printed by bulmer) are at once beautiful and secured by green velvet binding, with embossed clasps and corners of solid silver, washed with gold. each volume is preserved in a silken cover--and the whole is kept inviolate from the impurities of bibliomaniacal miasmata, in a sarcophagus-shaped piece of furniture of cedar and mahogany. what is the pleasure experienced by the most resolute antiquary, when he has obtained a peep at the inmost sarcophagus of the largest pyramid of egypt, compared with that which a tasteful bibliomaniac enjoys upon contemplating this illustrated shakespeare, now reposing in all the classical magnificence and congenial retirement of its possessor?--but why do i surpass lysander in the warmth and vehemence of narration! and yet, let me not forget that the same noble owner has _another_ illustrated copy of the same bard, on a smaller scale, of which mention has already been made in my account of the donor of it, the late george steevens. turn, gentle reader, for one moment, to page , ante. the illustrated clarendon, above hinted at by lysander, is in the possession of mr. h.a. sutherland; and is, perhaps, a matchless copy of the author: every siege, battle, town, and house-view--as well as portrait--being introduced within the leaves. i will not even hazard a conjecture for how many _thousand pounds_ its owner might dispose of it, if the inclination of parting with it should ever possess him. the british museum has recently been enriched with a similar copy of pennant's _london_, on large paper. prints and drawings of all descriptions, which could throw light upon the antiquities of our metropolis, are inserted in this extraordinary copy, which belonged to the late mr. crowles; who expended _l._ upon the same, and who bequeathed it, in the true spirit of _virtû_, to the museum. let cracherode and crowles be held in respectful remembrance!] there is another mode of _illustrating copies_ by which this symptom of the bibliomania may be known; it consists in bringing together, from different works, [including newspapers and magazines, and by means of the scissars, or otherwise by transcription] every page or paragraph which has any connexion with the character or subject under discussion. this is a useful[ ] and entertaining mode of illustrating a favourite author; and copies of works of this nature, when executed by skilful hands, should be deposited in public libraries; as many a biographical anecdote of eminent literary characters is preserved in consequence. i almost ridiculed the idea of an _illustrated chatterton_, 'till the sight of your friend bernardo's copy, in eighteen volumes, made me a convert to the utility that may be derived from a judicious treatment of this symptom of the bibliomania: and indeed, of a rainy day, the same bibliomaniac's similar copy of _walton's complete angler_ affords abundant amusement in the perusal. [footnote : numerous are the instances of the peculiar use and value of copies of this kind; especially to those who are engaged in publications of a similar nature. oldys's _interleaved langbaine_ (of mr. reed's transcript of which a copy is in the possession of mr. heber) is re-echoed in almost every recent work connected with the belles-lettres of our country. oldys himself was unrivalled in this method of illustration; if, exclusively of langbaine, his copy of _fuller's worthies_ [once mr. steevens', now mr. malone's. see _bibl. steevens_, no. ] be alone considered! this oldys was the oddest mortal that ever wrote. grose, in his _olio_, gives an amusing account of his having "a number of small parchment bags inscribed with the names of the persons whose lives he intended to write; into which he put every circumstance and anecdote he could collect, and from thence drew up his history." see noble's _college of arms_, p. . thus far the first edition of this work; p. . it remains to add that, whatever were the singularities and capriciousness of oldys, his talents were far beyond mediocrity; as his publication of the _harleian miscellany_, and _raleigh's history of the world_, abundantly prove. to the latter, a life of raleigh is prefixed; and the number of pithy, pleasant, and profitable notes subjoined shew that oldys's bibliographical talents were not eclipsed by those of any contemporary. his _british librarian_ has been more than once noticed in the preceding pages: vide p. : . there is a portrait of him, in a full-dressed suit and bag-wig, in one of the numbers of the european magazine; which has the complete air of a fine gentleman. let me just observe, in elucidation of what lysander above means by this latter mode of illustrating copies, that in the bodleian library there is a copy of _kuster's edition of suidas_ filled, from beginning to end, with ms. notes and excerpts of various kinds, by the famous d'orville, tending to illustrate the ancient lexicographer.] lis. forgive me, if i digress a little. but is not the knowledge of _rare_, _curious_, and _beautiful prints_--so necessary, it would seem, towards the perfecting of _illustrated copies_--is not this knowledge of long and difficult attainment? lysand. unquestionably, this knowledge is very requisite towards becoming a complete pupil in the school of granger.[ ] nor is it, as you very properly suppose, of short or easy acquirement. [footnote : granger's _biographical history of england_ was first published, i believe, in , to., vols. it has since undergone four impressions; the last being in , vo., vols. _a continuation of the same_, by the rev. mark noble, was published in , vo., vols.: so that if the lover of rare and curious prints get possession of these volumes, with ames's _catalogue of english heads_, , vo.; and walpole's _catalogue of engravers_, , vo.; bromley's _catalogue of engraved portraits_, , to.; together with catalogues of english portraits, being the collections of mr. barnard, sir w. musgrave, mr. tyssen, sir james-winter lake; and many other similar catalogues put forth by mr. richardson and mr. grave; he may be said to be in a fair way to become master of the whole arcana of print-collecting. but let him take heed to the severe warning-voice uttered by rowe mores, in his criticism upon the catalogue of english heads, published by ames: 'this performance (says the splenetic and too prophetic critic) is not to be despised: judiciously executed, a work of this sort would be an appendage entertaining and useful to the readers of english biography; and it ought to be done at the common labour, expense, and charges of these _iconoclasts_--because their depredations are a grand impediment to another who should attempt it: and if this _goût_ for prints and thieving continues, let private owners and public libraries look well to their books, for there will not remain a valuable book ungarbled by their connoisseuring villany: for neither honesty nor oaths restrain them. yet these _fanciers_, if prints themselves are to be collected, instead of being injurious to every body, might make themselves serviceable to posterity, and become a kind of _medalists_ (who, by the bye, are almost as great thieves as themselves, though the hurt they do is not so extensive, as it lies chiefly among themselves, who all hold this doctrine, that "exchange is no robbery;" but, if they could filch without exchanging, no scruple of conscience would prevent them): we say they might render themselves useful to posterity, by gathering together the historical, political, satyrical, anecdotal and temporal pieces, with which the age abounds; adding an explanation of the intent and meaning for the instruction and amusement of times to come. the misfortune is, they must buy the one, but they can steal the other; and steal they will, although watched with the eyes of argus: unless the valuables, like some other _jocalia_, are shewn to them through a grate; and even _then_, the keeper must be vigilant!' _of english founders and foundries_; p. . this extract is curious on account of the tart, but just, sentiments which prevail in it; but, to the bibliomaniac, it is doubly curious, when he is informed that _only eighty copies_ of this typographical treatise (of pages--including the appendix) were printed. the author was a testy, but sagacious, bibliomaniac, and should have been introduced among his brethren in part v. it is not, however, too late to subjoin the following: _bibliotheca moresiana. a catalogue of the large and valuable library of printed books, rare old tracts, manuscripts, prints, and drawings, copper plates, sundry antiquities, philosophical instruments, and other curiosities, of that eminent british antiquary_, the late rev. and learned edward rowe mores, f.a.s., deceased, &c. sold by auction by mr. patterson, august . this collection exhibited, like its owner, a strange mixture of what was curious, whimsical, and ingenious in human nature. there were lots of printed books. _the rare old black-letter books and tracts_, begin at p. .] alman. how so? a very little care, with a tolerably good taste, is only required to know when a print is _well engraved_. lysand. alas, madam! the excellence of engraving is oftentimes but a _secondary_ consideration! belin. do pray explain. lysand. i will, and as briefly and perspicuously as possible. there are, first, _all the varieties of the same print_[ ] to be considered!--whether it have the _name of the character_, or _artist_, omitted or subjoined: whether the head of the print be without the body, or the body without the head--and whether this latter be finished, or in the outline, or ghostly white! then you must go to _the dress_ of this supposed portrait:--whether full or plain; court or country-fashioned: whether it have a hat, or no hat; feather, or no feather; gloves, or no gloves; sword, or no sword; and many other such momentous points. [footnote : the reader, by means of the preceding note, having been put in possession of some of the principal works from which information, relating to print-collecting may be successfully gleaned, it remains for me--who have been described as sitting in a corner to compile notes for lysander's text-discourse--to add something by way of illustration to the above sweeping satire. one or the other of the points touched upon in the text will be found here more particularly elucidated. catalogue of barnard's prints; , vo. th day's sale. no. . sir thos. isham de lamport, by loggan and valck; _before the names of the artists, very fine_. £ _s._ _d._ . king charles i. on horseback, with the page, by lombard; _very fine and scarce_. . the same plate; _with cromwell's head substituted for the king's--variation in the drapery_. . the same: a curious proof--_the face blank and no inscription at bottom--drapery of the page different_--and other variations. . catharine, queen of k. charles ii.; _in the dress in which she arrived: very scarce_. by faithorne. . queen elizabeth; habited in the superb court dress in which she went to st. paul's to return thanks for the defeat of the spanish armada--by passe; from a painting of isaac oliver. [i have known from _l._ to _l._ given for a fine impression of this curious print: but i am as well pleased with mr. turner's recently published, and admirably executed, facsimile mezzotint engraving of it; a proof of which costs _l._ _s._ every member of the two houses--and every land and sea captain--ought to hang up this print in his sitting-room.] eighth day's sale. . esther before ahasuerus: engraved by hollar; _first impression; with the portraits at top; curious and extremely rare_. . jo. banfi hunniades; _proof; very fine and rare_. by the same. . the same print, _with variations_. by the same. . the stone-eater; _with his history below_. by the same. _very rare._ . sir thomas chaloner; by the same. _a proof impression. one of the scarcest prints in existence._ [a similar print has been since sold for _l._; which is in the collection of mr. john townley; whose hollars are unrivalled!] . herbert, earl of pembroke; _before the alteration_. by the same. . devereux, earl of essex; _on horseback_. by the same. . devereux, earl of essex: _standing on foot; whole length_. by the same. . algernon, earl of northumberland; _on horseback_. by the same. . lady elizabeth shirley; _an unfinished proof, the chaplet round her head being only traced; curious and extremely rare_. by the same. . _a reverse of the proof; very fine_. by the same. catalogue of sir william musgrave's prints. third day's sale. . george, earl of berkeley; oval, _in his robes_, ; _extra fie [transcriber's note: fine] and rare_. . george, duke of buckingham; oval; _cloak over his left arm, hand on sword, nine lines expressive of his titles, &c._ sold by p. stent: _fine and extra rare_. . george, earl of cumberland; _whole length, dressed for a tournament_. by r. white. fifth day's sale. . the newcastle family, in a room, after diepenbeke, by clowet; _a beautiful proof, before the verses, extra rare_. [there is a very indifferent copy of this print. the original may be seen in the collection of the marquis of stafford and sir m.m. sykes, bart. nothing can exceed the tenderness and delicacy of clowet's engraving of this naturally conceived and well-managed picture.] tenth day's sale. . richard smith; virtuoso and literary character. by w. sherwin; _extra rare and fine_. [see my account of this distinguished bibliomaniac at p. , ante. sir m.m. sykes is in possession of sir william musgrave's copy of the portrait.] eleventh day's sale. . sir francis willoughby; _with a view of wollaton hall_; mezzotint by t. man, _extra rare_. . sir francis wortley; , folio: with trophies, books, &c., by a. hertochs: extra rare and fine. eighteenth day's sale. . dr. francis bernard; _a touched proof_; _very rare_. [the reader may recollect this sagacious bibliomaniac, as noticed at page , ante.] twentieth day's sale. . sir matthew lister; m.d. ; by p. van somer; _fine proof, extra rare_. . humphrey lloyd, of denbigh, antiquary, ætat. , . by faber, , _extra rare and fine_. twenty-first day's sale. . sir john marsham; ætat. . by r. white, _extra rare and fine_. . martin master; ætat. . . by r. gaywood, _extra_ rare _and_ fine. twenty-seventh day's sale. . lady paston, wife of sir william paston, by w. faithorne; _extra rare and fine_. . mary, countess of pembroke, by simon passe, . _fine and rare._ . penelope, countess of pembroke, in an oval, by w. hollar. _rare._ . anne clifford, countess of pembroke, by r. white: _extra_ rare _and_ fine. [the prints at this sale--the catalogue containing pages--were sold for _l._ _s._] miscellaneous catalogues of prints. first day's sale. . richard cromwell, lord protector, in a square. "this portrait was etched by hollar, but he was afraid to put his name to it; and the plate was destroyed as soon as richard resigned his pretensions to the protectorship." note by mr. hillier. _very rare._ . lord digby, in armour; after vander borcht. _extra_ rare _and_ fine. . robert devereux, earl of essex, _standing, whole length: army in the distance_, , _fine and rare_. . the same, on horseback: under the horse a map of england; : _first state of the plate; extra fine and rare_. . hollar's own portrait, in an oval, ætat. , : _with variations in the arms_. sixth day's sale. . sir william paston, : esteemed faithorne's finest portrait: _extra rare_. . carew reynell, from the fothergill collection: _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . prince rupert, in armour, _right hand on the breast_: after vandyck. sold by robert peake. _extra_ fine _and_ rare. thirteenth day's sale. . king and queen of bohemia, and five children, by wm. passe, with thirty-two englishes [qu?]; : _extra fine and rare_, the same plate; _with the addition of five children; the youngest in a cradle_. . the same, sitting under a tree; with four children; the youngest playing with a rabbit: fine _and_ rare. . james, duke of york: _with the anchor, proof_; very fine and rare. ( th day's sale.) . sir francis winderbank and lord finch; _with finch's wings flying to winderbank_; extra rare. ( th day.) _a catalogue of a genuine and valuable collection of english and foreign portraits, &c., sold by auction by mr. richardson, february_ , . st day's sale. . princess augusta maria, daughter of charles i. _in hat and feather_, ætat. , : by henry danckers, . _fine and rare._ . anne, queen of james i. with her daughter anne; _curiously dressed, whole length_. by j. visscher: _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . mary, queen of scotts: "scotorumque nunc regina"--_in an oval: cap adorned with jewels, feather-fan in her hand_, &c. by peter mynginus: _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . prince frederick, count palatine, with princess elizabeth, _whole length, superbly dressed_: by r. elstracke: _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . henry the eighth, _with hat and feather, large fur tippet_: by c. m(atsis); _very_ fine, _and supposed unique_. . mary, queen of scots: _veil'd cross at her breast: ætat._ , : _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . queen elizabeth; _superbly dressed, between two pillars: extra_ fine _and_ rare. _a catalogue of a valuable and genuine collection of prints, drawings, and elegantly illustrated books, &c., sold by auction by mr. richardson; march_, . . henry, lord darnley, by passe; fine _and very_ rare. . sir philip sidney, by elstracke; _extremely_ fine. . thomas howard, earl of suffolk, by ditto, _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . edward somerset, earl of worcester, by simon passe: rare _and_ fine. . henry vere, earl of oxford, sold by compton holland; _very_ rare _and_ fine. . henry wriothesly, earl of southampton, by simon passe; _most brilliant impression, extra rare_. . thomas howard, earl of arundel, by the same; _rare and very fine_. . richard sackville, earl of dorset, by the same; _extra fine and rare_--(with a copy by thane). . john digby, earl of bristol; rare and fine: from the fothergill collection. . robert sidney, viscount lisle, by simon passe; _rare and very fine_. . edmund, baron sheffield: by elstracke; _very fine_. . james, lord hay, by simon passe; _brilliant impression_, fine _and_ rare. . george mountaine, bishop of london; g.y. sculpsit; _very fine and rare_. . sir julius cæsar, by elstracke; _extra_ fine _and_ rare. . arthurus severus nonesuch o'toole, by delaram; _most brilliant impression, and very rare_ (with the copy). . sir john wynn de gwedir, by vaughan; _very rare_. . prince frederic henry, by delaram: _very_ fine _and_ rare. . prince rupert, by faithorne; _very_ fine _and_ rare. . sir john hotham, governor of hull; _whole length; extremely_ rare _and_ fine. . edward mascall, by gammon. . edward wetenhall, bishop of corke and ross; mezzotint, by becket; _fine_. . andrew lortie, by van somer. . thomas cole, large mezzotint. . sir william portman, mezzotint. . anthony, earl of shaftesbury, by blooteling; _exceeding_ fine _impression_. . sir patrick lyon, of carse, by white. . sir greville verney, by loggan. . marmaduke rawdon, by white; fine. . slingsby bethel, _whole length_, by w. sherwin (with small copy). . samuel malines, by lombart; very fine. . thomas killegrew, _as sitting with the dog_: by faithorne. _a catalogue of a very choice assemblage of english portraits, and of foreigners who have visited england: serving to illustrate granger's biographical history; the property of an eminent collector_, &c., sold by auction, by messrs. king and lochée, april, . but it is time to pause. the present note may have completely served to shew, not only that lysander was right in drawing such bold conclusions respecting the consequences resulting from the publication of granger's biographical history, and the capriciousness of print-fanciers respecting impressions _in their various stages_, and with _all their varieties_,--but, that the pursuit of print-collecting is both costly and endless. for one 'fine and rare' _print_, by hollar, faithorne, elstracke, the passes, delaram, or white, how many truly precious and useful _volumes_ may be collected? "all this is vastly fine reasoning"--methinks i hear a grangerite exclaim--"but compare the comfort afforded by your 'precious and useful volumes' with that arising from the contemplation of eminent and extraordinary characters, executed by the _burin_ of some of those graphic heroes before-mentioned--and how despicable will the dry unadorned volume appear!! on a dull, or rainy day, look at an illustrated shakespeare, or hume, and then find it in your heart, if you can, to depreciate the grangerian passion!!" i answer, the grangerite is madder than the bibliomaniac:--and so let the matter rest.] next let us discuss the serious subject of the _background_!--whether it be square or oval; dark or light; put in or put out; stippled or stroked; and sundry other similar, but most important, considerations. again; there are engravings of _different sizes_, and _at different periods_, of the same individual, or object: and of these, the varieties are as infinite as of any of those attached to the vegetable system. i will not attempt even an outline of them. but i had nearly forgotten to warn you, in your rembrandt _prints_, to look sharply after _the burr_! alman. mercy on us--what is this _burr_?! lysand. a slight imperfection only; which, as it rarely occurs, makes the impression more valuable. it is only a sombre tinge attached to the copper, before the plate is sufficiently polished by being worked; and it gives a smeared effect, like smut upon a lady's face, to the impression! but i am becoming satirical. which is the next symptom that you have written down for me to discourse upon? lis. i am quite attentive to this delineation of a _print connoisseur_; and will not fail to mark _all the_ rembrandt[ ] _varieties_, and take heed to the _burr_! [footnote : all the book and print world have heard of daulby's _descriptive catalogue of the works of rembrandt_, &c. liverpool, , vo. the author's collection of rembrandt's prints (according to a ms. note prefixed to my copy of it, which is upon _large paper_ in to.--of which _only fifty_ impressions were struck off) was sold at liverpool, in , in one lot; and purchased by messrs. colnaghi, manson, and vernon, for _l._ it was sold in , in separate lots, for _l._, exclusively of every expense; after the purchasers had been offered _l._ for the same. some of these prints came into the possession of the late mr. woodhouse (vide p. , ante); and it is from the catalogue of _his_ collection of prints that i present the reader with the following rembrandtiana; beseeching him to take due heed to what lysander has above alluded to by _all the varieties and the burr_! lot daulby . abraham entertaining the three angels; _very_ fine, _with the burr, on india paper_. £ _s._ _d._ . the angel appearing to the shepherds; _very fine, presque unique_. . the flight into egypt, in the style of elsheimer; _on india paper, the st impression, extremely rare_. . the hundred guilder piece. this impression on india paper, _with the burr_, is acknowledged by the greatest connoisseurs in this kingdom to be the most brilliant extant. . ditto, restored plate, by capt. baillie, _likewise on india paper, and very fine_. . the good samaritan; _the st impression with the white tail_, most beautifully finished, with a light point, and fine hand; very fine and rare. . our lord before pilate, _second impression on india paper_, fine _and_ scarce. . same subject, third impression, _with the mask, extremely rare_: from the collection of the burgomaster six. . the descent from the cross. this print is beautifully executed, the composition is grand, and the head full of character; _ st and most brilliant impression_. . the rat-killer; _a most beautiful impression_. . the marriage of jason and creusa; _a st impression, without the crown_, on india paper, very brilliant. . the hog; a remarkably fine impression, from houbraken's collection: _scarce_. . the shell. this piece is finely executed, and this impression, _with the white ground, may be regarded as presque unique_. . ledikant, or french bed. _this is the entire plate, and is a very great rarity._ . the woman with the arrow: _very scarce_. . the three trees; _as fine as possible_. . a village near a high road, arched: _ st impression on india paper, before the cross hatchings_: scarce. . a landscape of an irregular form; _ st impression, with the burr, very scarce_. . blement de jonge; _ st impression, the upper bar of the chair is left white, extremely rare_. . ditto, _second impression_, very _scarce_. . ditto, third impression, _very_ fine. . abraham france, _with the curtain, on india paper_. . [transcriber's note: .] ditto: _with the chair_. . ditto; _with the figures on the paper which he holds in his wands_. all these impressions are rare and fine. . old haaring or haring, the burgo-master; _beautiful impression on india paper, with the burr, extremely rare_. . young haaring, beautiful impression from houbraken's collection; _scarce_. . john lutma; _ st impression before the window_, &c. _extremely rare_. . john aselyn; _ st impression, with the easel, extremely rare_. . wtenbogardus, the dutch minister; a most beautiful and brilliant impression, oval, on a square plate; _proof, before the pillar, arch, verses, or any inscription: presque unique_. . the gold weigher; _ st impression, with_ the face blank, _extremely rare_. . ditto; _a most beautiful and brilliant impression; and esteemed the_ finest _extant_. from the collection of capt. baillie. . the little coppenol, with the picture; _the second and rarest impression, generally esteemed the st_; from the earl of bute's collection. . ditto; without the picture, very fine. . the great coppenol, remarkably fine. . the advocate tol; _a superb impression, extremely rare with the copy_. . the burgo-master six; _a most extraordinary impression, the name and age of the burgo-master are wanting, and the two middle figures in the date are reversed: a very great rarity_. perhaps the finest collection of rembrandt's prints, in great britain, is that in the possession of lord viscount fitzwilliam, at richmond; a nobleman of extremely retired habits, and equally distinguished for his taste, candour, and erudition. his paintings and books are of the very first class.] lysand. do so; and attend the shops of mr. richardson, mr. woodburn, and mr. grave, and you may soon have a chance of gratifying your appetite in these strange particulars. but beware of a hogarth rage! lis. is that so formidable? lysand. the longest life were hardly able to make the collection of hogarth's prints complete! the late mr. ireland has been the linnæus to whom we are indebted for the most minute and amusing classification of the almost innumerable varieties of the impressions of hogarth's plates.[ ] [footnote : the marquis of bute has, i believe, the most extraordinary and complete collection of hogarth's prints that is known. of the _election dinner_ there are six or seven varieties; gloves, and no gloves; hats, from one to the usual number; lemon, and no lemon; punch bowl, and no punch bowl. but of these _varying_ prints, the most curious is the one known by the name of _evening_: with a little boy and girl, crying, in the back-ground. at first, hogarth did _not_ paint _the girl_, and struck off very few impressions of the plate in this state of the picture. a friend observing to him that the boy was crying with no apparent cause of provocation, hogarth put in the little girl tantalizing him. but--happy he! who has the print of the 'evening' _without_ the little girl: fifteen golden guineas (rare things now to meet with!) ought not to induce him to part with it. of the copper-plate portraits by hogarth, the original of '_sarah malcolm, executed_ ,' is among the very rarest; a copy of this selling for _l._ _s._ _d._ at barnard's sale. the reader has only to procure that most interesting of all illustrative works, _hogarth illustrated by john ireland_, , ( d edit.) vols., vo.; and, for a comparatively trifling sum, he may be initiated into all the mysteries of hogarthian _virtû_. the late right hon. w. wyndham's collection of hogarth's prints, bequeathed to him by mr. george steevens, was _bought in_ for little more than guineas.] lis. i will stick to rembrandt and leave hogarth at rest. but surely, this rage for _portrait collecting_ cannot be of long duration. it seems too preposterous for men of sober sense and matured judgment to yield to. lysand. so think _you_--who are no collector! but had you accompanied me to mr. christie's on friday[ ] last, you would have had convincing evidence to the contrary. a little folio volume, filled with one hundred and fifty-two prints, produced-- [footnote : if the reader casts his eye upon pages - he will find that the ardour of print and portrait collecting has not abated since the time of sir w. musgrave. as a corroboration of the truth of lysander's remark, i subjoin a specimen (being only four articles) of the present rage for 'curious and rare' productions of the _burin_--as the aforesaid grangerite (p. ) terms it. no. . the right honourable and truly generous henry veere, earl of oxford, viscount bulbeck, &c. lord high chamberlain of england. j. payne sculp. with a large hat and feather, small, in a border with many figures. will. passo, sculp. tho. jenner exc. on distinct plates. _the most brilliant impression of a print of the greatest rarity._ £ _s._ _d._ . generall (edward) cecyll son to the right honourable the earle of exeter, &c. in an oval; in armour. simmon passæs, sculp. anno . sould in pope's head alley, also by john sudbury and george humble. _most brilliant impression of a print of the greatest rarity._ . the true portraicture of richard whitington, thrise lord mayor of london, a vertuous and godly man, full of good workes (and those famous) &c. r. elstracke sculp. are to be sold by compton holland over against the exchange: _first impression with the hand on a skull. extra fine and rare._ . mull'd sack; a fantastic and humourous chimney-sweeper, so called: with cap, feather, and lace band: cloak tuck'd up; coat ragged; scarf on his arm; left leg in a fashionable boot, with a spur; on his right foot a shoe with a rose; sword by his side, and a holly bush and pole on his shoulder; in his left hand, another pole with a horn on it; a pipe, out of which issues smoke, is in his right hand; at the bottom are eight verses (as given in granger, vol. ii., p. ). are to be sold by compton holland over against the exchange, with further manuscript account by a provost of eton. _considered unique_ [but not so]. ] lis. perhaps, three hundred guineas? lysand. just double the sum, i believe. lis. o rare james granger--thy immortality is secured! but we forget our symptoms of the bibliomania. belin. as i am the examiner, i here demand of you, sir, what may be the meaning of the _fourth symptom_ of the bibliomaniacal disease, which you call unique copies? lysand. a passion for a book of which only one copy was printed, or which has any peculiarity about it[ ] by either, or both, of the foregoing methods of illustration--or which is remarkable for its size, beauty, and condition--or has any embellishment, rare, precious and invaluable--which the researches of the most sedulous bibliomaniac, for three and thirty long years, would not be able to produce--is indicative of a rage for _unique copies_; and is unquestionably a strong prevailing symptom of the bibliomania. let me therefore urge every sober and cautious collector not to be fascinated by the terms "_curious and rare_;" which 'in slim italics' (to copy dr. ferriar's happy expression[ ]) are studiously introduced into booksellers' catalogues to lead the unwary astray. such a collector may fancy himself proof against the temptation; and will, in consequence, call _only to look at_ this unique book, or set of books; but--led away by the passion which inflamed berryer and caillard[ ]--when he views the morocco binding, silk water-tabby lining, blazing gilt edges; when he turns over the white and unspotted leaves; gazes on the amplitude of margin; on a rare and lovely print introduced; and is charmed with the soft and coaxing manner in which, by the skill of herring, mackinlay, rodwell, lewis, or faulkener, "leaf succeeds to leaf"--he can no longer bear up against the temptation; and, confessing himself vanquished, purchases, and retreats--exclaiming with virgil's shepherd---- ut vidi, ut perii--ut me malus abstulit error! [footnote : let us again quote a stanza from the 'aspirant:' fourth maxim. who in _all_ copies finds delight-- the wrong not scenting from the right-- and, with a choiceless appetite, just comes to _feed_, ... like soph, or templar, out on his iron stomach!--_we_ have rarities we merely _see_, nor taste our phoenix though it be ... serv'd up in the "unique exemplar," _bibliosophia_, p. v. one of the most curious proofs of the seductive popularity of unique copies may be drawn from the following excerpt from a catalogue of a library sold at utrecht in ; which was furnished me by mr. h. ellis from a copy of the catalogue in the possession of mr. cayley of the augmentation office. no. . les avantures de telemaque, o. rotterd. _av. fig. en cart._ 'cet exemplaire est tout _barbouillé_. mais il est _de la main de la jeune princesse wilhelmine auguste de saxe-weimar, qui y a appris le françois en_ !!!' i will mention a unique copy of a somewhat different cast of character. of the magnificent and matchless edition of shakspeare, printed by mr. bulmer and published by mr. nicols, between the years and , there were one hundred copies, of the first six plays only, struck off upon imperial folio, or _colombier paper_; in which the large engravings, published at the shakspeare gallery (now the british institution) might be incorporated and bound up. the late george steevens undertook the revision of the text, intending to complete the entire plays in a similar form; but the trouble and expense attending this part of the undertaking were so great that the further prosecution of it was abandoned. mr. bulmer preserved the whole of the proof-sheets of this partial colombier impression; and to form a '_unique_ edition' (these are his own words) he bound them up in the exact order in which the plays were printed. on the margins of many of the sheets, besides the various corrections, emendations, and notes to the printer, by mr. steevens, there are some original sonnets, a scene for a burlesque tragedy, and other happy effusions from the pen of the same elegant and learned editor. need i ask the reader, whether he would have the _barbouillé_ (unique) copy of telemaque of the young princesse wilhelmine auguste de saxe-weimar (like the vicar of wakefield, i like to give the full name) or mr. bulmer's similar copy of shakspeare? the difference would soon be found in king street or the strand! i must mention one more example--of a nature different from both the preceding--of what lysander has above, elaborately, and perhaps, a little confusedly, described as unique copies. it is colonel stanley's copy of _de bry_ (see a superb one before noticed) which is bound in seven folio volumes, in blue morocco, by padaloup, and is considered superior to every known copy. it contains all the maps and prints, with their variations, according to the _bibliographie instructive_, no. , _cat. de paris de meyzieu_, ; no. , _cat. de santander_, no. ; and _camus sur les collections des grands et petits voyages_, , to.: with both editions of the first nine parts of the west indies, and duplicates of parts x. and xi. it has also a considerable number of duplicate plates, where a superior impression could be procured at any expense. the owner of this unique copy, of a work unrivalled for its utility and elegance, is distinguished for a noble collection, bound by our choicest binders, in whatever is splendid and precious in the belles lettres, voyages, and travels. take two more illustrations, kind-hearted reader!----_goldsmith's deserted village_, . mr. bulmer printed a single copy of this beautiful poem, in quarto, upon satin--picked and prepared in a very curious manner. it was purchased by a foreigner. his impressions upon vellum are noticed, post.----_falconer's shipwreck_, , vo. mr. miller caused _two_ copies only (is [transcriber's note: it] is _almost_ unique!) of this beautiful edition, printed by bensley, to be struck off upon satin, in imperial vo. one of these copies now remains with him for sale.] [footnote : the passage, above alluded to, is as follows: at ev'ry auction, bent on fresh supplies, he cons his catalogue with anxious eyes: where'er the slim italics mark the page, _curious and rare_ his ardent mind engage. _the bibliomania_; v. .] [footnote : a slight mention of mons. berryer, the father-in-law of lamoignon, is made at p. , ante. the reader is here presented with a more finished portrait of this extraordinary bibliomaniac: a portrait, which will excite his unbounded admiration, if not envy!--for such a careful and voluptuous collector, in regard to _binding_, was, i believe, never before known; nor has he been since eclipsed. 'm. berryer, successivement secrétaire d'etat au département de la marìne, ministre, puis garde des sceaux de france, s'étoit occupé pendant près de quarante années à se former un cabinet des plus beaux livres grecs et latins, anciennes éditions, soit de france, soit des pays étrangers, &c. par un soin et une patience infatigables, à l'aide de plusieurs coopérateurs éclairés, savans même en bibliographie, qui connoissoient ses études, délassement de ses places, il avoit recueilli les plus belles éditions; de telle sorte qu'il a toujours su se procurer un exemplaire parfait de chaque édition par un moyen simple quoique dispendieux. si les catalogues des ventes publiques lui apprenoient qu'il existoit un exemplaire _plus beau, plus grand de marge, mieux conservé_, de tout auteur, &c., que celui qu'il possédoit, il le fasoit acquérir sans s'embarrasser du prix, et il se défaisoit à perte de l'exemplaire moins beau. la majeure partie des auteurs anciens et modernes de son cabinet a été changée huit ou dix fois de cette manière. il ne _s'arrêtoit_ qu'après s'être assuré qu'il avoit _le plus bel exemplaire connu_, soit pour la marge, soit pour la force du papier, soit pour la magnificence de la conservation et _de la relieure_.' 'a l'égard des ouvrages d'editions modernes, même celles faites en pays étranger, m. berryer vouloit les avoir en feuilles: il en faisoit choisir, dans plusieurs exemplaires, un parfait, et il le faisoit relier _en maroquin de choix_; le ministere de la marìne qu'il avoit rempli, lui ayant donné toutes les facilités d'en être abondamment et fidèlement pourvu dans toutes les echelles du levant. on collationnoit ensuite pour vérifier s' il n'y avoit ni transposition, ni omission de feuilles ou de pages?!!' _cat. m. lamoignon_, . pref. p. ij. iij. berryer was slightly copied by caillard (of whom see p. , ante) in the luxury of _book-binding_. 'm. caillard avoit le soin _de faire satiner_ presque tous livres qu'il faisoit relier, et principalement les grands ouvrages; qu'il est difficile d'avoir parfaitement reliés sans ce precedé.' _cat. de caillard_; p. x. (avertisement.) but i know not whether caillard did not catch the phrensy from the elder mirabeau. in the catalogue of his books, p. ii., we are thus told of him:--'l'acquisition d'un _beau livre_ lui causoit des transports de joie inexprimables: il l'examinoit, l'admiriot [transcriber's note: l'admiroit]: il vouloit que chacun partagêat avec lui le même enthousiasme.' his biographer properly adds: 'de quelle surprise n'auroit-on pas été, si l'on eût su que c'etoit la le même homme qui, du haut de la tribune, faisoit trembler les despotes et les factieux!' ponder here, gentle reader, upon the effects of a _beautiful_ book! let no one, however, imagine that we _grave englishmen_ are averse or indifferent to 'le luxe de la relieure'!! no: at this present moment, we have the best bookbinders in europe; nor do we want good authority for the encouragement of this fascinating department relating to the bibliomania. read here what mr. roscoe hath so eloquently written in commendation of it: 'a taste for the exterior decoration of books has lately arisen in this country, in the gratification of which no small share of ingenuity has been displayed; but if we are to judge of the present predilection for learning by the degree of expense thus incurred, we must consider it as greatly inferior to that of the romans during the times of the first emperors, or of the italians at the th century. and yet it is, perhaps, difficult to discover why a favourite book should not be as proper an object of elegant ornament as the head of a cane, the hilt of a sword, or the latchet of a shoe.' _lorenzo de medici_; vol. ii., , vo. edition. did geyler allude to such bibliomaniacs in the following sentence? sunt qui libros inaurant et serica tegimenta apponunt preciosa et superba. grandis hæc fatuitas! _navicula, sive speculum fatuorum_; (navis stultifera) _sign. b. v. rev._] belin. for the benefit--not of the 'country gentlemen,' but--of the 'country ladies,' do pray translate these latin words. we are always interested about the pastoral life. lis. it only means, belinda, that this said shepherd was blockhead enough to keep gazing upon his beloved fair, although every glance shot him through the heart, and killed him a hundred times. still he caressed the cause of his ruin. and so bibliomaniacs hug the very volumes of which they oftentimes know they cannot afford the purchase money! i have not forgotten your account of dr. dee:[ ] but the ladies were then absent. [footnote : see p. , ante.] belin. well, let us now go on to the explanation of the _fifth symptom_ of the bibliomania; which you have called, copies printed upon vellum! lysand. a desire for books printed in this manner[ ] is an equally strong and general symptom of the biblomania; but, as these works are rarely to be obtained of modern date, the collector is obliged to have recourse to specimens executed, three centuries ago, in the printing offices of aldus, verard, or the giunti. although the _bibliotheque imperiale_, at paris, and the library of count m'carthy, at toulouse, are said to contain the greatest number of books, printed upon vellum, yet, those who have been fortunate enough to see copies of this kind in the libraries of his majesty, the duke of marlborough, earl spencer, mr. johnes, and the late mr. cracherode (which latter is now in the british museum) need not travel on the continent for the sake of being convinced of their exquisite beauty and splendour. an _unique_ copy of the first livy, upon vellum, (of which the owner has excited the envy of foreigners) is a library of itself!--and the existence of vellum copies of wynkyn de worde's reprint of _juliana barnes's book of hawking, &c._, complete in every respect, (to say nothing of his majesty's similar copy of caxton's _doctrinal of sapience_, in the finest preservation) are sufficient demonstrations of the prevalance of this symptoms of the bibliomania in the times of our forefathers; so that it cannot be said, as some have asserted, to have appeared entirely within the last half century. [footnote : william horman, who was head master of eton school at the opening of the sixteenth century, was, i apprehend, the earliest writer in this country who propagated those symptoms of the bibliomania indicative of a passion for _large paper_ and _vellum_ copies; for thus writes the said horman, in his _vulgaria_, printed by pynson, in folio, : a book, curious and interesting upon every account. 'the greatest and highest of price, is _paper imperial_. (herbert, vol i., p. .) _parchment leaves_ be wont to be ruled, that there may be a _comely margent_: also, strait lines of equal distance be draw[en] within, that the writing may shew fair,' _fol._ . from these two sentences (without quoting horman's praise of the presses of froben and aldus; fol. ) i think it may be fairly inferred that a love of _large paper_ and _vellum_ copies was beginning to display itself in the period just mentioned. that this love or passion is now eagerly and generally evinced, i shall proceed to give abundant proof; but first let me not forget our bibliomaniacal satirist: fifth maxim. who blindly take the book display'd by pettifoggers in the trade. nor ask of what the leaf was made, that _seems like paper_--i can tell 'em, that though 'tis possible to squint through any page with letters in't, no copy, though an angel print, reads elegantly--but "on vellum." _bibliosophia_, p. vi. i proceed to give evidence of the present passion which prevails, respecting books of the description of which we are now speaking, by extracting a few articles from the library of which such honourable mention was made at p. - , ante. they are all works printed upon vellum. no. . epistolæ beati jeronimi. impressio moguntinæ facta per virum famatum in hæc arte petrum schoiffer de gernsheym, vols., . _a fine specimen of a grand book, superbly bound in blue turkey._ folio. £ _s._ _d._ . sexti decretalium opus præclarum bonifacii vii., pont. max. in nobili urbe moguncia non atramento è plumali ereâque pennâ cannâve per petrum schoiffer de gernsheym consummatum. a.d. . _a most beautiful work, superbly bound in blue turkey._ . [transcriber's note: .] constitutiones clementis papæ quinti, unà cum apparatu domini joannis andreæ. venetiis impress. ere atque industriâ nicolai jenson gallici, . _a most beautiful specimen of clean vellum, with a fine illumination, bound in purple velvet._ folio. . leonora, from the german of burgher, by mr. spencer, with the designs of lady diana beauclerc, . folio. _a beautiful unique copy, with the plates worked on satin, superbly bound in blue turkey._ . dryden's fables, with engravings from the pencil of lady beauclerc. _a beautiful unique copy, splendidly bound in morocco, with the plates worked on satin._ . missale monasticum secundum ritum et consuetudinem ordinis gallæ umbrosæ. venetiis, per ant. de giunta florentinum, . _a most beautiful copy of a very rare book, with plates and illuminations, bound in morocco._ folio. . postilla super libros n. testamenti fratris nicolai de lyra. venet. per joan. de colonia et nic. jenson, . _a fine specimen of beautiful vellum, with illuminations, bound in blue turkey._ folio. . the german bible, by martin luther, vols. augspurg, , folio. _a most fair, and beautiful copy, with coloured plates, in the finest preservation, and bound in crimson velvet, with two cases._--'the copies on vellum of this fine edition were printed at the charges of john frederick, elector of saxony, (vide panzer).' folio. . le livre de jehan bocasse de la louenge et vertu des nobles et cleres dames. paris, _par ant. verard_, . _a beautiful work, with curious illuminations, finely bound in blue turkey._ folio. . virgilii opera curâ brunck. argentorati, . _an unique copy, bound in morocco, with a case._ quarto. . somervile's chace, a poem, with fine plates on wood, by bewick. printed by bulmer, . quarto. _a beautiful unique copy, splendidly bound in green, morocco._ . poems by goldsmith and parnell, with fine plates on wood by bewick. printed by bulmer, . _a beautiful unique copy, superbly bound in green morocco._ . the gardens, a poem, by the abbe de lisle, with fine plates by bartolozzi, coloured. printed by bensley, . _a fine book, and bound in green morocco._ quarto. . the castle of otranto, by the earl of oxford. printed at parma, . _a fine copy elegantly bound in blue morocco._ quarto. . coustumes du pais de normandie. rouen, . _a beautiful unique copy, on fine white vellum, the presentation copy to the duke de joyeuse; in old morocco._ . p. virgilii maronis codex antiquissimus in bibliotheca mediceo-laurentiana. florent. . _a curious facsimile of the old ms. bound in yellow morocco_, to. . junius's letters, vols., vo. printed by bensley, . _a beautiful unique copy, with the plates also worked on vellum, bound in morocco._ . il castello di otranto, storia gotica, lond. . _beautifully printed, with fine cuts, illuminated, bound in morocco._ . milton's paradise regained, poems, and sonnets, and latin poems, with notes, vols. printed by bensley, , vo. _a unique and beautiful copy, bound in blue turkey._ . la guirlande de julie offerte a mademoiselle de rambouillet, par le marq. de montausier. paris de l'imprim. de monsieur, , vo. 'this matchless book is embellished with exquisite miniatures, paintings of flowers, and wreaths of flowers, to illustrate the work, and is one of the most exquisite performances ever produced;' _superbly bound in green morocco_. [ guineas were bidden; but the book was passed on and not sold.] . la vedova, commedia facetissima di nic. buonaparte cittadino florentino. paris, , vo. a curious work by an ancestor of the first consul; _a beautiful unique copy, superbly bound in red morocco_. . the old english baron, a gothic story, by clara reeve, , vo. _richly bound in blue turkey._ . the oeconomy of human life, with fine plates, . _a beautiful unique copy, with the plates finely tinted in colours and superbly bound in morocco_, vo. . dr. benjamin franklin's works. paris, , vo. _a beautiful unique copy, and bound in crimson velvet._ . the dance of death. painted by holbein, and engraved by hollar, _a beautiful unique copy, with the plates exquisitely painted, and very richly bound in red morocco_. . la gerusalemme liberata di torquato tasso, vols. parigi presso molini, , vo. _a beautiful copy, bound in green morocco._ . catullus, tibullus, et propertius, vols. par. ap. coustelier, , vo. _a singularly beautiful copy, and bound in old blue turkey._ . opere toscane di luigi alamanni. leoni. ap. gryphia, . _a most beautiful copy, presented to king francis i. of france: old morocco._ . a new testament in german. augsburg, , mo. a fine copy, with illuminations, of a very rare edition. lysander has above noticed the collection of count m'carthy of toulouse. by the kindness of mr. roche, banker, at cork, i learn that this collection 'is a truly splendid one.' the possessor's talents are not confined to the partial walk of bibliography: in his younger years, he was considered one of the first gentlemen-violin players in europe. he quitted ireland forty years ago, and now resides at toulouse, in his th year, surrounded by a numerous and respectable family. his leading passion, in book-collecting, (like his countryman's, poor mr. quin--who gave guineas for the spira virgil of , _in membranis_!) is marked by a fondness for works _printed upon vellum_. from mr. roche, mr. edwards, and other quarters, i am enabled to present the reader with a list of a _few_ of count m'carthy's books upon vellum. psalmorum codex; _mogunt._ _fust and schoiffer._ folio, . ---- ----; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . durandi rationale; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . _clementis papæ v. constitutiones_; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . ---- ---- ---- ----; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . catholicon; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . biblia sacra latina; _ibid._ _apud eosdem._ folio, . [his majesty and earl spencer possess similar copies of these works.] franciscus de retras comment. vitiorum; _nuremb._ folio, . hieronimi epistolæ; _mogunt._ _fust and schoiffer._ folio, . (another copy: very large thick paper.) priscianus de art. grammat. _venet._ _vin. spira._ folio, . (see p. , ante.) liber sextus decretalium bonif. papæ viii. _mogunt._ folio, . guarini regulæ; quarto, . quintiliani institutiones; _jenson_, folio, . baptista de alberti de amore; quarto, . de amoris remedio: quarto, . biblia in ling. volg. folio, , vols. historia natur. de plinio tradotto da landino; _jenson, venet._ . (a similar copy is in mr. coke's library at holkam; illuminated, and in magnificent condition.) biblia sacra polyglotta; ximenis; _complut._ folio, , &c., vols. (see page , ante; for a brief account of this extraordinary copy.) plutarchi vitæ (lat.); _venet._ _n. jenson._ folio, . vol. . aristotelis opera varia (lat.); _venet._ folio, . vols. (this was the pinelli copy, and was purchased for _l._ _s._) statii achilles; _brixiæ._ folio, . chroniques de france, dictes de st. denys; _paris._ folio, . vol. & . anthologia græca; _florent._ quarto, . lancelot du lac; _paris._ _verard_, folio, . vol. . boccace des nobles malheureux; _ibid._ folio, . appollonius rhodius; _florent._ quarto, . destruction de troy le grant; _paris._ folio, . poliphili hyperonotomachia; _venet._ folio, . mer des histores; _paris._ folio, (no date) vols. monstrelet chronique de; _paris._ folio, (no date) vols. roman de la rose; _paris._ _verard._ folio, (no date) ---- de tristan; _ibid._ _id._ (no date) ---- d' ogier le danois; _ibid._ _id._ (no date) ---- de melis et lenin; _ibid._ _id._ (no date) i have heard that count m'carthy's books do not exceed in number; and of these, perhaps, no private collector in europe has an equal number printed upon vellum. in our own country, however, the finest vellum library in the world might be composed from the collections of his majesty, the duke of marlborough, earl spencer, sir m.m. sykes, bart., mr. johnes, mr. coke, and the quin collection. yet let us not forget the finest _vellum copy_ in the world of the first edition of _aristotle's works_ (wanting one volume) which may be seen in the library of corpus christi college, oxford. of mr. edward's _similar_ copy _of the first livy_, lysander and myself (vide part iii.) have spoken like honest bibliomaniacs. earl spencer possesses the rival volume, printed by the same printers, (sweynheym and pannartz) and upon the same material, in his pliny senior of --but let all quiet bibliomaniacs wait with patience till the work of mons. praet upon this subject, alluded to at p. , ante, shall have made its appearance! and then--let us see whether we can prevail upon some gnome to transport to us, through the 'thin air,' pynson's '_ship of fools_' upon vellum!!] lis. are we as successful in printing upon vellum as were our forefathers? lysand. certainly not; if we except some of the works from the press of bodoni--which are oftentimes truly brilliant. but the fault, in general, is rather in the preparation of the vellum than in the execution of the press-work. loren. you have seen, lisardo, my small volumes of '_heures_,' or '_missals_,' as they are called; some of them in ms. and others in print--and what can be more delicate than the texture of the vellum leaves, or more perfect than the execution of penmanship and printing? alman. i have often set whole hours, my dear brother, in contemplating with rapture the sparkling radiance of these little volumes; and wish in my heart i had a few favourite authors executed in a similar manner! i should like to employ bodoni[ ] for life. [footnote : it is not because bodoni printed better than our popular printers--that his books upon vellum are more beautiful than those produced by the london presses--but that the italian vellum (made of the abortive calf) is, in general, more white and delicate. there is not, perhaps, a lovelier little vellum book in existence than the _castle of otranto_, printed by bodoni in , vo. a copy of this, with the plates worked on white satin, was in the collection of mr. g.g. mills; and sold at the sale of his books in ; no. ; see p. , ante. from the former authority it would appear that only six copies were printed in this manner. by the kindness of mr. edwards, i am in possession of a '_lettera pastorale_' of fr. adeodato turchi--a small tract of pages--printed upon paper, by bodoni, in a style of uncommon delicacy: having all the finish and picturesque effect of copper-plate execution. but the chef d'oeuvre of bodoni seems to be an edition of _homer_, in three great folio volumes, each consisting of pages, with the text only. the artist employed six years in the preparations, and the printing occupied eighteen months. one hundred and forty copies only were struck off. the copy presented to bonaparte was upon vellum, of a size and brilliancy altogether unparalleled. _american review_, no. ., p. . january, . in our admiration of bodoni, let us not forget didot: who printed a single copy of _voltaire's henriade_ upon vellum, in quarto, with a brilliancy of execution, and perfection of vellum, which can never be suppassed [transcriber's note: surpassed]. this copy formerly belonged to a farmer general, one of didot's most intimate friends, who perished in the revolution. didot also printed a number of copies of french translations of english works, upon the same material: so correct, beautiful, and tasteful, that mr. bulmer assures me nothing could exceed it. all these small richly-feathered birds were once here, but have now taken their flight to a warmer climate. our modern books upon vellum are little short of being downright wretched. i saw the _life of nelson_, in two large quartos, printed in this manner; and it would have been the first work which i should have recommended a first-rate collector to have thrown out of his library.[g] many of the leaves were afflicted with the jaundice beyond hope of cure. the censure which is here thrown out upon others reaches my own doors: for i attempted to execute a single copy of my _typographical antiquities_ upon vellum, with every possible attention to printing and to the material upon which it was to be executed. but i failed in every point: and this single wretchedly-looking book, had i presevered [transcriber's note: persevered] in executing my design, would have cost me about _seventy-five_ guineas!] [footnote g: this book was printed at bolt court during the apprenticeship of the printer of this edit. of biblio., who speaking from remembrance, ventures to suggest that the above remark is rather too strong--although there was confessedly a great deal of trouble in procuring good vellum. he believes only _one_ copy was done; it was the property of alexander davidson, esq. banker, and, being in his library in ireland, when the mansion was burned down, it was destroyed. he had insured it for £ --the insurance office disputed his claim, and a trial at dublin took place. the late mr. bensley was subpoenaed to give evidence of its value, but, being reluctant to go, he persuaded the parties that warwick, one of his pressmen, who worked it off, was a better witness; he accordingly went, his evidence succeeding in establishing mr. davidson's claim. this same warwick worked off many of the splendid specimens of typography mentioned in _bibliomania_, being one of the very best workmen in the printing business--particularly in wood-cuts. he afterwards became private printer to the late sir egerton bridges, bart., at lee priory--and is long since dead.] lis. i could go on, 'till midnight, indulging my wishes of having favourite books printed upon vellum leaves; and at the head of these i would put _crammer's bible_ for i want scholarship sufficient to understand the _complutensian polyglott of cardinal ximenes_.[ ] [footnote : see pages , , ante.] berlin. [transcriber's note: belin.] so much for the _vellum symptom_. proceed we now to the _sixth_: which upon looking at my memoranda, i find to be the first editions. what is the meaning of this odd symptom? lysand. from the time of ancillon to askew, there has been a very strong desire expressed for the possesssion [transcriber's note: possession] of _original_ or _first published editions_[ ] of works; as they are in general superintended and corrected by the author himself, and, like the first impressions of prints are considered more valuable. whoever is possessed with a passion for collecting books of this kind, may unquestionably be said to exhibit a strong symptom of the bibliomania: but such a case is not quite hopeless, nor is it deserving of severe treatment or censure. all bibliographers have dwelt on the importance of these editions[ ] for the sake of collation with subsequent ones; and of detecting, as is frequently the case, the carelessness displayed by future editors. of such importance is the _first edition shakspeare_[ ] considered, on the score of correctness, that a fac-simile reprint of it has been recently published. in regard to the greek and latin classics, the possession of these original editions is of the first consequence to editors who are anxious to republish the legitimate text of an author. wakefield, i believe, always regretted that the first edition of lucretius had not been earlier inspected by him. when he began _his_ edition, the editio princeps was not (as i have understood) in that storehouse of almost every thing which is exquisite and rare in ancient and modern classical literature--need i add the library of earl spencer?[ ] [footnote : all german and french bibliographers class these first editions among rare books; and nothing is more apt to seduce a noviciate in bibliography into error than the tempting manner in which, by aid of capital or italic types, these editiones primariÆ or _editiones principes_ are set forth in the most respectable catalogues published abroad as well as at home. but before we enter into particulars, we must not forget that this sixth sympton [transcriber's note: symptom] of the bibliomania has been thus pungently described in the poetical strains of an "aspirant!" sixth maxim. who of editions recks the least, but, when that hog, his mind would feast fattens the intellectual beast with old, or new, without ambition,-- i'll teach the pig to soar on high, (if pigs had pinions, by the bye) how'er the _last_ may _satisfy_, the _bonne bouche_ is the "first edition." _bibliosophia_; p. vi. these first editions are generally, with respect to foreign works, printed in the fifteenth or in the early part of the sixteenth century: and indeed we have a pretty rich sprinkling of a similar description of first editions executed in our own country. it is not, therefore, without justice that we are described, by foreign bibliographers, as being much addicted to this class of books: "with what avidity, and at what great prices, this character of books is obtained by the dutch, and _especially by the english_, the very illustrious zach. conrad ab uffenbach shews, in the preface to the second volume of his catalogue." vogt; p. xx., edit. . there is a curious and amusing article in bayle (english edition, vol i., , &c.) about the elder ancillon, who frankly confessed that he "was troubled with the bibliomania, or disease of buying books." mr. d'israeli says that he "always purchased _first editions_, and never waited for second ones," but i find it, in the english bayle, note d, "he chose _the best_ editions." the manner in which ancillon's library was pillaged by the ecclesiastics of metz (where it was considered as the most valuable curiosity in the town) is thus told by bayle: "ancillon was obliged to leave metz: a company of ecclesiastics, of all orders, came from every part, to lay hands on this fine and copious library, which had been collected with the utmost care during forty years. they took away a great number of the books together; and gave a little money, as they went out, to a young girl, of twelve or thirteen years of age, who looked after them, that they might have it to say they had _paid for them_. thus ancillon saw that valuable collection dispersed, in which, as he was wont to say, his chief pleasure and even his heart was placed!"--edit. . a pleasant circumstance, connected with our present subject, occurred to the rev. dr. charles burney. at a small sale of books which took place at messrs. king and lochée's, some few years ago, the doctor sent a commission, for some old grammatical treatises; and calling with mr. edwards to see the success of the commission, the latter, in the true spirit of bibliomaniacism, pounced upon an anciently-bound book, in the lot, which turned out to be--nothing less than the _first edition_ of manilius by regiomontanus: one of the very scarcest books in the class of those of which we are treating! by the liberality of the purchaser, this _primary bijou_ now adorns the noble library of the bishop of ely.] [footnote : an instance of this kind may be adduced from the _first edition_ of fabian, printed in ; of which chronicle messrs. longman, hurst, and co. have just published a new edition, superintended by mr. h. ellis, and containing various readings from all the editions at the foot of the text. "the antiquary," says the late mr. brand, "is desired to consult the edition of fabian, printed by pynson, in , because there are others, and i remember to have seen one in the bodleian library at oxford, with a continuation to the end of queen mary, , in which the language is much modernized." _shakspeare_, edit. , vol. xviii., pp. , . see also what has been before said (p. .) of an _after_ edition of speed.] [footnote : a singular story is "extant" about the purchase of the late duke of roxburgh's copy of the first edition of shakspeare. a friend was bidding for him in the sale-room: his grace had retired to one end of the room, coolly to view the issue of the contest. the biddings rose quickly to guineas; a great sum in former times: but the duke was not to be daunted or defeated. a slip of paper was handed to him, upon which the propriety of continuing the contest was suggested. his grace took out his pencil; and, with a coolness which would have done credit to prince eugene, he wrote on the same slip of paper, by way of reply-- lay on macduff! and d----d be he who first cries "hold, enough!" such a spirit was irresistible, and bore down all opposition. the duke was of course declared victor, and he marched off, triumphantly, with the volume under his arm. lord spencer has a fine copy of this first edition of shakspeare, collated by steevens himself.] [footnote : we raise the column to the hero who has fought our battles by sea or land; and we teach our children to look up with admiration and reverence towards an object so well calculated to excite the best sympathies of the human heart. all this is well; and may it never be neglected! but there are other characters not less noble, and of equal glory to a great nation like our own; and they are those who, to the adventitious splendour of hereditary rank, add all the worth and talent of a private condition, less exposed to temptation, and suited to the cultivation of peaceful and literary pursuits. such a character is george john earl spencer! a nobleman, not less upright and weighty in the senate than polished and amiable in private life; who, cool and respected amidst the violence of party, has filled two of the most important offices of state in a manner at once popular and effective; and who, to his general love of the fine arts, and acquaintance with classical literature, has superadded the noble achievement of having collected the finest private library in europe! the reader has already met with sufficient mention of this collection to justify what is here said in commendation of it.... in the deepest recess of althorpe park--where the larch and laurustinus throw their dark yet pleasing shade--and where ----pinus ingens, albaque populus umbram hospitalem consociare amant ramis-- let the doric temple be raised, with its white-marbled columns, sacred to the memory of this illustrious nobleman! let his bust, in basso-relievo, with appropriate embellishments, adorn the most conspicuous compartment within: and peace and virtue, and filial affection, will, i am sure, be the guardians of so cherished a spot! [illustration: arms of earl spencer. dieu defend le droit]] it must not, however, be forgotten that, if first editions are, in some instances, of great importance, they are in many respects superfluous, and only incumber the shelves of a collector; inasmuch as the labours of subsequent editors have corrected the errors of their predecessors, and superseded, by a great fund of additional matter, the necessity of consulting them. thus, not to mention other instances (which present themselves while noticing the present one), all the fine things which colomiés and reimannus have said about the rarity of la croix du maine's bibliothéque, published in , are now unnecessary to be attended to, since the publication of the ample and excellent edition of this work by de la monnoye and juvigny, in six quarto volumes, . lis. upon the whole, i should prefer the best to the first edition; and you, lorenzo, may revel in the possession of your _first shakespeare_--but give me the last variorum edition _in twenty-one volumes_. loren. "chacun a son gout," yet it may be as well to possess them _both_. indeed, i not only have these editions, but a great number of the early plays printed in quarto;[ ] which are considered the _ne plus ultra_ of shakspearian bibliomaniacism. [footnote : a pretty copious list of these valuable early plays will be found at pages - - - , ante.] belin. much good may these wretchedly printed volumes do you! now let me proceed with my pupil. tell us, good lysander, what can you possibly mean by the _seventh symptom_ of the bibliomania, called true editions? lysand. my definition of this strange symptom will excite your mirth.[ ] some copies of a work are struck off with deviations from the usually received ones, and although these deviations have generally neither sense nor beauty to recommend them (and indeed are principally _defects_!), yet copies of this description are eagerly sought after by collectors of a certain class. what think you of such a ridiculous passion in the book-way? [footnote : observing the usual order of notification, we will first borrow the poetical aid of "an aspirant:" seventh maxim. who dares to "write me down an ass," when, spying through the curious mass, i rub my hands, and wipe my glass, if, chance, an _error_ bless my notice-- will prize when drill'd into his duty, these lovely warts of ugly beauty; for books, when _false_ (it may be new t'ye), are "true editions:"--odd,--but _so_ 'tis. let us proceed to see whether this biting satire be founded upon truth, or not. accidental variations from the common impressions of a work form what are called true editions: and as copies, with such variations (upon the same principle as that of _prints_; vide p. - , ante) are rare, they are of course sought after with avidity by knowing bibliomaniacs. thus speaks ameilhon upon the subject:--"pendant l'impression d'un ouvrage il est arrivé un accident qui, à telle page et à telle ligne, a occasioné un renversement dans les lettres d'un mot, et que ce désordre n'a été rétabli qu'apres le tirage de six ou sept exemplaires; ce qui rend ces exemplaires défectueux presque uniques, et leur donne, â les entendre, une valeur inappréciable; car voila un des grands secrets de cet art, qui, au reste, s'acquiert aisément avec de la memoire." _mem. de l'institut_: vol. ii., p. . the author of these words then goes on to abuse the purchasers and venders of these strange books; but i will not quote his saucy tirade in defamation of this noble department of bibliomaniacism. i subjoin a few examples in illustration of lysander's definition:--_cæsar. lug. bat._ , mo. _printed by elzevir._ in the bibliotheca revickzkiana we are informed that the _true_ elzevir edition is known by having the plate of a buffalo's head at the beginning of the preface and body of the work: also by having the page numbered , which _ought_ to have been numbered . a further account is given in my introduction to the classics, vol. i., p. .--_horace_, londini, , vo., vols. published by pine. the _true_ edition is distinguished by having at page , vol. ii., the _incorrect_ reading "post est."--for "protest."--_virgil._ lug. bat., , mo. printed by elzevir. the _true_ edition is known, by having at plate , before the bucolics, the following latin passage _printed in red ink_. "ego vero frequentes a te literas accepi." consul de bure, no. .--_idem._ birmingh. , to. printed by baskerville. a particular account of the _true_ edition will be found in the second volume of my "introduction to the classics," p. --too long to be here inserted.--_bocaccio._ il decamerone, venet. , to. consult de bure no. ; bandini, vol. ii. , ; (who, however, is extremely laconic upon this edition, but copious upon the anterior one of ) and haym, vol. iii., p. , edit. . bibl. paris., no. . clement. (vol. iv. ,) has abundance of reference, as usual, to strengthen his assertion in calling the edition "_fort rare_." the reprint, or spurious edition, has always struck me as the prettier book of the two. these examples appeared in the first edition of this work. i add to them what of course i was not enabled to do before. in the second edition of _the bibliomania_, there are some variations in the copies of the small paper; and one or two decided ones between the small and large. in the small, at page , line , we read "beat with perpetual _forms_." in the large, it is properly "beat with perpetual _storms_." which of these is indicative of the _true_ edition? again: in the small paper, p. , line , we read properly "claudite jam rivos pueri, sat _prata_ biberunt." in the large paper, "claudite jam rivos pueri, sat _parta_ biberunt." it was in my power to have cancelled the leaf in the large paper as well as in the small; but i thought it might thereby have taken from the former the air of a _true_ edition; and so the blunder (a mere transposition of the letters _ar_) will go down to a future generation in the large paper. there is yet another slight variation between the small and large. at p. , in the account of the catalogue of krohn's books, the concluding sentence wholly varies: but i believe there is not an _error_ in either, to entitle one to the rank of _truism_ more than another.[h]] [footnote h: during the youth of the printer of this book, a curious mistake occurred: a splendid folio work was going on for dr. bonnell thornton; in a certain page, as printers technically say, _a space stood up_; the dr. (not understanding printers' marks) wrote on a head page "take out horizontal line at p. so and so"--the compositor inserted these words as a _displayed line_ in the head-page whereon they were written--the reader passed it in the revise--and it was so worked off! being eventually detected--the leaf was of course cancelled.] alman. it seems to me to be downright idiotism. but i suspect you exaggerate? lysand. in sober truth, i tell you only what every day's experience in the book-market will corroborate. belin. well!--what strange animals are you bibliomaniacs. have we any other symptom to notice? yes, i think lysander made mention of an _eighth_; called a passion for the black-letter. can any eyes be so jaundiced as to prefer volumes printed in this crabbed, rough, and dismal manner? loren. treason--downright treason! lisardo shall draw up a bill of indictment against you, and lysander shall be your judge. belin. my case would then be desperate; and execution must necessarily follow. lis. i shall be better able to form an opinion of the expediency of such a measure after lysander has given us his definition of this eighth and last symptom. proceed, my friend. lysand. of all symptoms of the bibliomania, this _eighth_ symptom is at present the most powerful and prevailing. whether it was imported into this country, from holland, by the subtlety of schelhorn[ ] (a knowing writer upon rare and curious books) may be a point worthy of consideration. but whatever be its origin, certain is that books printed in the =black-letter=, are now coveted with an eagerness unknown to our collectors in the last century. if the spirits of west, ratcliffe, farmer, and brand, have as yet held any intercourse with each other, in that place "from whose bourne no traveller returns," which must be the surprise of the three former, on being told, by the latter, of the prices given for some of the books at the sale of his library! [footnote : his words are as follows: "ipsa typorum ruditas, ipsa illa atra crassaque literarum facies _belle tangit sensus_," _&c._ was ever the black-letter more eloquently described: see his _amoentates [transcriber's note: amoenitates] literariæ_, vol. i., p. . but for the last time, let us listen to the concluding symptomatic stanza of an "aspirant;" eighth maxim. who dreams the _type_ should please us all, that's not too thin, and not too tall, nor much awry, nor over small, and, if but roman, asks no better-- may die in darkness:--i, for one, disdain to tell the barb'rous hun that persians but adore the sun till taught to know _our_ god--=black-letter=. _bibliosophia_: p. vii. however cruel may be the notes of one poet, it seems pretty clear that the glorious subject, or bibliomaniacal symptom, of which we are treating, excited numbers of a softer character in the muse of dr. ferriar: for thus sings he--inspired by the possession of _black-letter_ tomes: in red morocco drest, he loves to boast the bloody murder, or the yelling ghost; or dismal ballads, sung to crowds of old, now cheaply bought for thrice their weight in gold. v. - . ev'n i, debarr'd of ease and studious hours, confess, mid' anxious toil, its lurking pow'rs. how pure the joy, when first my hands unfold the small, rare volume, black with tarnished gold! _the bibliomania_, l. - . but let us attend to a more scientific illustration of this eighth symptom. 'black-letter, which is used in england, descends from the gothic characters; and is therefore called _gothic_ by some, _old english_ by others; but printers give it the name of _black-letter_, because its face taking in a larger compass than roman or italic of the same body, the full and spreading strokes thereof appear more _black_ upon paper than common.' _smith's printer's grammar_; edit. , p. . the same definition is given in a recent similar work; with the addition that 'black-letter is more expensive than roman or italic, its broad face requiring an extraordinary quantity of ink, which always gives the best coloured paper a yellow cast, unless worked upon that of a superior quality. it has a good effect in a title-page, if disposed with taste.' stower's _printer's grammar_; , p. . to these authorities we may add, from rowe mores, that 'wynkyn de worde's letter was of _the square english_ or _black face_, and has been the pattern for his successors in the art.' _of english founders and foundries_; , vo. p. , . 'the same black-letter printer,' says palmer or psalmanaazar, 'gave a greater scope to his fancy, and formed such a variety of sorts and sizes of letter that, for several years after him, none of his successors attempted to imitate him therein.' _general history of printing_; p. . it is not necessary to collect, in formal array, the authorities of foreigners upon this important subject; although it may be as well to notice the strange manner in which momoro, in his _traité elémentaire de l'imprimerie_, p. , refers us to an elucidation of the gothic letter ('appelé du nom de certains peuples qui vinrent s'établir dans la gothie, plus de quatre cens ans avant j.c.') in one of the plates of fournier's _dictionnaire typographique_: vol. ii. p. --which, in truth, resembles anything but the gothic type, as understood by modern readers.--smith and mr. stower have the hardihood to rejoice at the present general extinction of the black-letter. they were not, probably, aware of hearne's eulogy upon it--'as it is a reproach to us (says this renowned antiquary) that the saxon language should be so forgot as to have but few (comparatively speaking) that are able to read it; so 'tis a greater reproach that the black-letter, which was the character so much in use in our grandfathers' days, should be now (as it were) disused and rejected; especially when we know the best editions of our english bible and common-prayer (to say nothing of other books) are printed in it.' _robert of gloucester's chronicle_: vol. i., p. lxxxv. i presume the editor and publisher of the forth-coming fac-simile re-impression of juliana barnes's book of hawking, hunting, &c., are of the same opinion with hearne: and are resolved upon eclipsing even the black-letter reputation of the afore-named wynkyn de worde.--a pleasant black-letter anecdote is told by chevillier, of his having picked up, on a bookseller's stall, the first edition of the _speculum salutis_ sive _humanæ salvationis_ (one of the rarest volumes in the class of those printed in the middle of the fifteenth century) for the small sum of four livres! _l'origine de l'imprimerie_; p. . this extraordinary event soon spread abroad, and was circulated in every bibliographical journal. schelhorn noticed it in his _amoenitates literariæ_: vol. iv. - : and so did maichelius in his _introd. ad hist. lit. et præcip. bibl. paris_, p. . nor has it escaped the notice of a more recent foreign bibliographer. ameilhon makes mention of chevillier's good fortune; adding that the work was 'un de ces livres rares au premièr degré, qu' un bon bibliomane ne peut voir sans trépigner de joie, si j'ose m'exprimer ainsi.' _mem. de l'institut_. vol. ii. - . this very copy, which was in the sorbonne, is now in the imperial, library at paris. _ibid._ a similar, though less important, anecdote is here laid before the reader from a communication sent to me by mr. wm. hamper of birmingham. '"_tusser's five hundred points of good husbandry, black-letter, sewed_," was valued at sixpence, in a catalogue of a small collection of books on the sale at the shop of mr. william adams, loughborough, in the year : and, after in vain suing the coy collector at this humble price, remained unsold to the present year, , when (thanks to your _bibliomania_!) it brought a golden guinea.'--i have myself been accused of 'an admiration to excess' of black-letter lore; and of recommending it in every shape, and by every means, directly and indirectly. yet i have surely not said or done any thing half so decisive in recommendation of it as did our great moralist, dr. johnson: who thus introduces the subject in one of his periodical papers.--'the eldest and most venerable of this society, was hirsutus: who, after the first civilities of my reception, found means to introduce the mention of his favourite studies, by a severe censure of those who want the due regard for their native country. he informed me that he had early withdrawn his attention from foreign trifles, and that since he begun to addict his mind to serious and manly studies, he had very carefully amassed all the _english books_ that were printed in the =black-letter=. this search he had pursued so diligently that he was able to show the deficiencies of the best catalogues. he had long since completed his _caxton_, had three sheets of _treveris_, unknown to antiquaries, and wanted to a perfect [collection of] _pynson_ but two volumes: of which one was promised him as a legacy by its present possessor, and the other he was resolved to buy at whatever price, when quisquilius' library should be sold. hirsutus had no other reason for the valuing or slighting a book than that it was printed in the roman or the gothick letter, nor any ideas but such as his favourite volumes had supplied: when he was serious, he expatiated on the narratives of johan de trevisa, and, when he was merry, regaled us with a quotation from the _shippe of fools_.' rambler, no. .--nor was the doctor himself quite easy and happy 'till he had sold, in the character of a bookseller, a few volumes--probably of black-letter celebrity. mr. boswell relates that 'during the last visit which the doctor made to litchfield, the friends, with whom he was staying missed him one morning at the breakfast table. on inquiring after him of the servants, they understood that he had set off from litchfield at a very early hour, without mentioning to any of the family whither he was going. the day passed without the return of the illustrious guest, and the party began to be very uneasy on his account, when, just before the supper hour, the door opened, and the doctor stalked into the room. a solemn silence of a few minutes ensued; nobody daring to enquire the cause of his absence, which was at length relieved by johnson addressing the lady of the house as follows: "madam, i beg your pardon for the abruptness of my departure this morning, but i was constrained to it by my _conscience_. fifty years ago, madam, on this day, i committed a breach of filial piety, which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has not until this day been expiated. my father, you recollect, was a bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attending _walsall market_; and opening a stall for the sale of his books during that day. confined to his bed by indisposition, he requested of me, this time fifty years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. but, madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and i gave my father a refusal. to do away the sin of this disobedience, i this day went in a post-chaise to walsall, and going into the market at the time of high business, uncovered my head, and stood with it bare an hour before the stall which my father had formerly used, exposed to the sneers of the by-standers, and the inclemency of the weather: a penance, by which i have propitiated heaven for this only instance, i believe, of contumacy towards my father."'--is it not probable that dr. johnson himself might have sold for sixpence, a _tusser_, which now would have brought a 'golden guinea?'] a perusal of these prices may probably not impress the reader with any lofty notions of the superiority of the black-letter; but this symptom of the bibliomania is, nevertheless, not to be considered as incurable, or wholly unproductive of good. under a proper spirit of modification, it has done, and will continue to do, essential service to the cause of english literature. it guided the taste, and strengthened the judgment, of tyrwhitt in his researches after chaucerian lore. it stimulated the studies of farmer and steevens, and enabled them to twine many a beauteous flower round the brow of their beloved shakspeare. it has since operated, to the same effect, in the labour of mr. douce,[ ] the porson of old english and french literature; and in the editions of milton and spenser, by my amiable and excellent friend mr. todd, the public have had a specimen of what the _black-letter_ may perform, when temperately and skilfully exercised. [footnote : in the criticisms which have passed upon mr. douce's "_illustrations of shakspeare and ancient manners_," it has not, i think, been generally noticed that this work is distinguished for the singular diffidence and urbanity of criticism, as well as depth of learning, which it evinces; and for the happy illustrations of the subjects discussed by means of fac-simile wood-cuts.] i could bring to your recollection other instances; but your own memories will better furnish you with them. let me not, however, omit remarking that the beautiful pages of the '_minstrelsy of the scottish border_' and '_sir tristrem_' exhibit, in the notes, (now and then thickly studded with black-letter references) a proof that the author of '_the lay_,' '_marmion_,' and '_the lady of the lake_,' has not disdained to enrich his stores with such intelligence as black-letter books impart. in short, although this be a strong and general symptom of the bibliomania, it is certainly not attended with injurious effects when regulated by prudence and discretion. an undistinguishable voracious appetite to swallow _every thing_, because printed in the black-letter, must necessarily bring on an incurable disease, and, consequently, premature dissolution. there is yet one other, and a somewhat generally prevailing, symptom, indicative of the prevalence of the bibliomania; and this consists in a fondness for books which have been printed for private distribution[ ] only, or at a private press. what is executed for a few, will be coveted by many; because the edge of curiosity is whetted, from a supposition that something very extraordinary, or very curious, or very uncommon, is propagated in this said book, so partially distributed. as to works printed at a _private press_, we have had a very recent testimony of the avidity with which certain volumes, executed in this manner, and of which the impression has been comparatively limited, have been sought after by book _cognoscenti_. [footnote : the reader may not object to be made acquainted with a few distinguished productions, printed for private distribution. the reader is indebted to mr. bulmer, at whose elegant press these works were printed, for the information which follows:--museum worsleyanum; by sir _richard worsley_; , , atlas folio, vols. the first volume of this work, of which copies were printed, was finished in may, , and circulated, with the plates only of vol. ii., amongst the chosen friends of sir richard worsley, the author; who was, at that time, the diplomatic resident at venice from our court. the second volume, with the letter-press complete, of which only copies were printed, was finished in . the entire expense attending this rare and sumptuous publication (of which a copy is in the library of the royal institution) amounted to the enormous sum of , _l._ and from the irregularity of delivering the second volume of plates, in the first instance, without the letter-press, many of the copies are incomplete.----the father's revenge; _by the earl of carlisle, k.g._ &c., , to. a limited impression of this very beautiful volume, decorated with engravings from the pencil of westall, was circulated by the noble author among his friends. i saw a copy of it, bound in green morocco, with the original letter of the donor, in the library of earl spencer at althorp.----mount st. gothard: _by the late duchess of devonshire_, folio. only fifty copies of this brilliant volume were printed; to a few of which, it is said, lady diana beauclerc lent the aid of her ornamental pencil, in some beautiful drawings of the wild and romantic scenery in the neighbourhood of mount st. gothard.----dissertation on etruscan vases; _by mr. christie_. imperial to. with elegant engravings. only copies of this truly classical volume were printed. from the death of one or two of the parties, who became originally possessed of it, as a present from the author, it has fallen to the lot of mr. christie to become, professionally, the vender of a work which he himself never meant to be sold. a copy was very lately disposed of, in this manner, for _l._----bentleii epistolÆ; _edited by_ [the rev.] _dr. charles burney_: , to. this is one of the most beautiful productions of the shakspeare press; nor are the intrinsic merits of the volume inferior to its external splendour. the scarcer copies of it are those in medium quarto; of which only were printed: of the imperial quarto, there were executed.--i add two more similar examples, which were not printed at the shakspeare press:--lord baltimore's _gaudia poetica_; lat. angl. et gall. with plates. (no date). large quarto. only ten copies of this rare volume were printed, and those distributed among the author's friends: a copy of it was sold for _l._ _s._ at the sale of mr. reed's books: see bibl. reed, no. . it was inserted for sale in the catalogue of mr. burnham, bookseller at northampton, a.d. --with a note of its rarity subjoined.----views in orkney and on the north-eastern coast of scotland. taken in . etched . folio. _by the marchioness of stafford._--the letter-press consists of twenty-seven pages: the first of which bears this unassuming designation; "some account of the orkney islands, extracted from dr. barry's history, and wallace's and brand's descriptions of orkney." to this chapter or division is prefixed a vignette of _stroma_; and the chapter ends at p. . then follow four views of the orkney islands.--the next chapter is entitled "the cathedral of kirkwall," which at the beginning exhibits a vignette of the _cathedral of st. magnus_, and at the close, at p. , a vignette of a _tomb in the cathedral_. to these succeed two plates, presenting views of the _inside of the cathedral_, and an _arch in the cathedral_.--the third chapter commences at p. , with "the earl of orkney's palace," to which a vignette of a _street in kirkwall_ is prefixed. it ends at p. , and is followed by a plate exhibiting a view of the _door-way of the earl's palace_; by another of the _hall of the earl's palace_; and by a third containing two views, namely, the _inside of the hall_, and, upon a larger scale, the _chimney in the hall_.--"the bay of the frith" is the subject of the fourth chapter; which exhibits at the beginning a vignette of the _hills of hoy_. it closes at p. , with a vignette of _the dwarfy stone_. then follow six plates, containing a view of the _bay of frith_, a _view from hoy_, two views of the _eastern and western circles of the stones of stennis_, and two views of _stromness_.--the next chapter is entitled "duncansbay or dungsby-head," which bears in front a vignette of _wick_, and at the end, in p. , a vignette of the _castle of freswick_. three plates follow: the first presenting a view of _duncansbay-head_: the second, views of the _stacks of hemprigs_ and the _hills of schrabiner or schuraben_; the third, a view of _the ord_.--"the castle of helmsdale" is the title of the succeeding chapter, to which is prefixed a vignette of _helmsdale castle_. it ends at p. , with a vignette of the _bridge of brora_. then follow two plates, presenting views of _helmsdale castle_, and the _coast of sutherland_.--the subject of the next chapter is "dunrobin castle," (the ancient seat of her ladyship's ancestors, and now a residence of her ladyship,) which presents, at the beginning, a vignette of _dunrobin castle_, and after the close of the chapter, at p. , four plates; the first of which is a view of _dunrobin castle_ and the surrounding scenery; the second, a smaller view of the _castle_: the third, a view of _druid stones_, with another of _battle stones in strathflete_: and the fourth, _dornoch, with the thane's cross_.--the last chapter is entitled "the chapel of rosslyn," to which is prefixed a vignette of _rosslyn chapel_. it is followed by four plates; the first exhibiting a view of a _column in rosslyn chapel_; the second, a _door-way in the chapel_; the third, the _tomb of sir william st. clair_; and the fourth, _hawthornden_, the residence of the elegant and plaintive drummond; with whose beautiful sonnet, to this his romantic habitation, the volume closes: "dear wood! and you, sweet solitary place, where i estranged from the vulgar live," &c. of the volume which had been thus described, only copies were printed. the views were all drawn and etched by her ladyship: and are executed with a spirit and correctness which would have done credit to the most successful disciple of rembrandt. a copy of the work, which had been presented to the late right hon. c.f. greville, produced, at the sale of his books, the sum of sixteen guineas.] lis. you allude to the strawberry hill press?[ ] [footnote : for the gratification of such desperately-smitten bibliomaniacs, who leave no stone unturned for the possession of what are called strawberry hill _pieces_, i subjoin the following list of books, printed at the celebrated seat of sir horace walpole (afterwards lord orford) at strawberry hill: situated between richmond and twickenham, on the banks of the thames. this list, and the occasional bibliographical memoranda introduced, are taken from the collection of strawberry hill books in the library of the marquis of bute, at luton; all of them being elegantly bound by kalthoeber, in red morocco.----i. _two odes by mr. gray._ "[greek: phônanta synetoisi]," pindar olymp. ii. printed for r. and j. dodsley, , to., pages, copies. in these copies there is sometimes (but very rarely) prefixed a short poem of six stanzas, in alternate rhyme, "to mr. gray, on his poems." as there were _only six copies_ of these verses printed, i subjoin them: repine not, gray, that our weak dazzled eyes thy daring heights and brightness shun, how few can track the eagle to the skies, or, like him, gaze upon the sun! the gentle reader loves the gentle muse, that little dares, and little means, who humbly sips her learning from _reviews_, or flutters in the _magazines_. no longer now from learning's sacred store, our minds their health and vigour draw; homer and pindar are revered no more, no more the _stagyrite is law_. though nurst by these, in vain thy muse appears to breathe her ardours in our souls; in vain to sightless eyes, and deaden'd ears, thy lightning gleams, and thunder rolls! yet droop not gray, nor quit thy heav'n-born art: again thy wondrous powers reveal, wake slumb'ring virtue in the _briton's_ heart. and rouse us to _reflect_ and _feel_! with antient deeds our long-chill'd bosoms fire, those deeds which mark'd eliza's reign! make _britons_ greeks again.--then strike the lyre, and pindar shall not sing in vain. ----ii. _a journey into england_, originally written in latin, _by paul hentzner_. in the year . printed . advertisement of pages in a fine large beautiful type, printed on paper of great delicacy. the body of the work, which is printed in a smaller type, occupies double pages; on account of the latin and english being on the opposite pages, each page is marked with the same number. only copies of this curious and elegant work were printed.--iii. _fugitive pieces in verse and prose. pereunt et imputantur._ mdcclviii. vo. two pages of dedication "to the honourable major general henry seymour conway:" two pages of a table of contents, body of the work pages. printed with the small type: and only copies struck off.--iv. _an account of russia as it was in the year . by charles lord whitworth._ printed at s.h. mdcclviii, vo. advertisement pages, body of this work --with a page of errata, copies printed. this is an interesting and elegantly printed little volume.--v. _a parallel, in the manner of plutarch, between a most celebrated man of florence, and one scarce ever heard of in england. by the reverend mr. spence_, , vo. this is the beautiful and curious little volume, of which mention has already been made at p. , ante. seven hundred copies of it were printed; and from a copy, originally in the possession of the late mr. john mann, of durham, i learnt that "the clear profits arising from the sale of it being about _l._, were applied for the benefit of mr. hill and his family." (magliabechi was "the man of florence;" and hill "the one scarce ever heard of in england.") a copy of this edition, with ms. notes by mr. cole, was purchased by mr. waldron, at the sale of george steevens's books, for _l._ _s._ it was reprinted by dodsley: but the curious seek only the present edition.----vi. _lucani pharsalia_, mdcclx, to. this is the most beautiful volume, in point of printing, which the strawberry hill press ever produced. a tolerably copious account of it will be found in my _introduction to the classics_, vol. ii., p. . kirgate the printer (recently deceased) told me that uncommon pains were taken with its typographical execution.----vii. _anecdotes of painting in englaud_ [transcriber's note: england]; mdcclxi. four volumes; _catalogue of engravers_, to., one volume. this is the _first_, and, on account of having the earliest impressions of the plates, the _best_ edition of this amusing, and once popular work. it was reprinted in quarto, in ; of which edition i believe copies were struck off. again, in , crown vo., five volumes, without the plates.----viii. _the life of edward lord herbert of cherbury_, written by himself. printed in the year mdcclxix, to. dedication of two pages to lord powis. advertisement six pages, not numbered. after this, there should be a "genealogical table of the family of herbert," which is very scarce, on account of its being suppressed by mr. walpole, for its inaccuracy. the life occupied pages. "mr. walpole," says the late mr. cole, "when i was with him in the autumn of , at which time the book was partly printed, told me that either one or two hundred copies were to be printed; half to be sent to the earl of powis, and the other half he was to reserve for himself, as presents to his friends; so that, except the book is reprinted by some bookseller, privately, as probably it will, it will be a curiosity. it was not published till the end of june, , when the honourable editor sent it to me.----ix. _poems by anna chambers_, countess temple. mdcclxiv, to. this volume, containing poems on various subjects, is printed in pages, with a large, but not very elegant type. only copies were struck off.----x. _the mysterious mother._ a tragedy, by mr. horace walpole. sit mihi fas audita loqui. virg. printed at s.h., mdcclxviii. vo. no vignette on the back. first leaf, errata, and "persons" [of the play.] printed with the small type on pages; after which follows a "postscript" of pages. only copies printed. an uncut copy was recently sold for _l._ _s._----xi. _cornélie vestale. tragédie._ imprimée à s.h. mdcclxviii, vo., copies. the title-page is followed by a letter "a mons. horace walpole." a page of the names of the actors forms the commencement of the work, which contains pages, neatly printed. only copies printed, of which were sent to paris.----xii. _poems by the reverend mr. hoyland_, mdcclxix, vo. the advertisement ends at p. iv.; the odes occupy pages. although this little volume is not printed with the usual elegance of the s.h. press, it is valuable from its scarcity, on account of its never having been re-printed. only copies were struck off.----xiii. _original letters from k. edward vi. to barnaby fitzpatrick_, , to. i am not acquainted with any circumstance, intrinsic or extrinsic, that renders this small volume sought after.----xiv. _miscellaneous antiquities, or a collection of curious papers_: either republished from scarce tracts, or now first printed from original mss. two numbers printed by thomas kirgate, mdcclxxii, to. no. i. advertisement of two pages, ending p. iv. the number contains besides: contents. chap. i. "an account of some tournaments and other martial diversions." this was reprinted from a work written by sir william segar, norroy; and is called by the author, honour, military and ceuill, printed at london in . chap. ii. of "justs and tournaments," &c., from the same. chap. iii. "a triumph in the reigne of king richard the second, ," from the same. chap. iv. "a militarie triumph at brussels, anno ," from the same. chap. v. "of justs and tourneaments," &c., from the same. chap. vi. "triumphes military, for honour and loue of ladies: brought before the kings of england," from the same. chap. vii. "of the life and actions in armes since the reigne of queene elizabeth," from the same. chap. viii. "the original occasions of the yeerely triumph in england." all these tracts are taken from the above work. no. ii. second leaf, a plate of a head from the original wood-cut by hans holbein. contents. this number is almost entirely occupied by the "life of sir thomas wyat, the elder," copied by mr. gray from the originals in the harleian collection, now in the british museum. this extends to p. , after which is an appendix of eight pages on a few miscellaneous subjects. five hundred copies were printed.----xv. _memoirs du comte de grammont_, par monsieur le comte antoine hamilton. nouvelle edition, augumentée denotes et eclaircissemens necessaires. par m. horace walpole. mdcclxxii, to. the title-page is succeeded by a dedication "à madame ----," in six lines and a half, printed in a very large type. then follows an "avis de l'editour," and "avertissement," occupying three pages. an "epitre à monsieur le comte de grammont,' continues to p. xxi: then a "table des chapitres," to p. xxiii., on the back of which are the errata. the body of the work extends to pages; which are succeeded by "table des personnes," or index, in three pages. these memoirs are printed with the middle size type; but neither the type nor paper are so beautiful as are those of hentzner's travels, or the comparison between magliabechi and hill. portraits. . le comte antoine hamilton, faces the title page. . philibert, comte de grammont, opposite the "epitre:" badly executed. . a portrait of miss warminster, opposite p. , in the style of worlidge's gems. . mademoiselle d'hamilton, comtesse de grammont, faces p. . this engraving, by g. powle, is executed in a style of beauty and spirit that has seldom been surpassed. . lord chesterfield, second earl, in the style of the preceding; very beautiful. there were only copies of this edition printed, of which were sent as presents to paris.----xvi. _the sleep walker, a comedy_: in two acts. translated [by lady craven] from the french, in march. printed by t. kirgate, mdcclxxviii, vo. it is printed in the small type on pages, exclusively of viii. introductory ones, of "prologues" and "persons," &c. only copies were printed: and of these, one was sold for _l._ in the year , at a public auction.----xvii. _a letter to the editor of the miscellanies of thomas chatterton._ printed by t. kirgate. mdcclxxix, vo. this title is preceded by what is called a bastard title: and is followed by pages of the work, not very elegantly printed. only copies.----xviii. _the muse recalled_, an ode occasioned by the nuptials of lord viscount althorp (the late earl spencer) and miss lavinia bingham, eldest daughter of charles, lord lucan, march vi., mdcclxxxi. by william jones, esq. printed by thomas kirgate, mdcclxxxi. to. eight pages, exclusively of the title-page. printed in the middle size type; but neither the paper nor typographical execution are in the best style of the s.h. press. only copies printed.----xix. _a description of the villa of mr. horace walpole, youngest son of sir robert walpole, earl of orford, at strawberry hill, near twickenham, middlesex._ with an inventory of the furniture, pictures, curiosities, &c. printed by thomas kirgate, mcclxxxiv, to. this book contains pages in the whole. it was preceded by a small quarto impression of mdcclxxiv: which is scarce; and of which there are large paper copies. the work entitled _Ædes walpolianæ_ was printed in mdcclxvii. plates to the edition of . . frontispiece, gothic; motto on a scroll, "fari quæ sentiat." . north front of strawberry hill. . entrance of strawberry hill. . view of the prior's garden, at ditto. . chimney in the great parlour. . chimney in the china room. . chimney in the yellow bedchamber. . do. ---- ---- blue bedchamber. . staircase at strawberry hill. . library at ditto. . chimney piece of the holbein chamber. . the gallery. . chimney in the round room. . the cabinet. . view from the great bedchamber. . garden gate. . view of the chapel in the garden at strawberry hill. . the shell bench. . view from the terrace at strawberry hill. . east view of the cottage garden at strawberry hill. there were only copies of this edition printed. the following may amuse the curious reader: "mr. walpole is very ready to oblige any curious persons with the sight of his house and collection; but as it is situated so near to london, and in so populous a neighbourhood, and as he refuses a ticket to nobody that sends for one, it is but reasonable that such persons as send should comply with the rules he has been obliged to lay down for shewing it:--any person, sending a day or two before may have a ticket for four persons for a day certain;--no ticket will serve but on the day for which it is given. if more than four persons come with a ticket, the housekeeper has positive orders to admit none of them;--every ticket will admit the company only between the hours of twelve and three before dinner, and only one company will be admitted on the same day;--the house will never be shewn after dinner, nor at all but from the first of may to the first of october;--as mr. walpole has given offence by sometimes enlarging the number o [transcriber's note: of] four, and refusing that latitude to others, he flatters himself that for the future nobody will take it ill that he strictly confines the number; as whoever desires him to break his rule does in effect expect him to disoblige others, which is what nobody has a right to desire of him;--persons desiring a ticket may apply either to strawberry hill, or to mr. walpole's, in berkeley square, london. if any person does not make use of the ticket, mr. walpole hopes he shall have notice: otherwise he is prevented from obliging others on that day, and thence is put to great inconvenience;--they who have tickets are desired not to bring children."----xx. _a copy of all the works of mr. walpole that were printed by him before his death_, , to. this brochure, which has been called "rare" in book-auction catalogues, has been sold for upwards of two guineas.----xxi. _postscript to the royal and noble authors._ mdccxxxvi, vo. there should be, before the title-page, an outline etching of "reason, rectitude, and justice, appearing to christin de pisan, &c., from an illumination in the library of the king of france," which is exceedingly well engraved. the work contains only pages: and there were but copies printed. the _royal and noble authors_ were first printed in , vo. vols.----xxii. _essai sur l'art des jardins modernes_, par m. horace walpole. traduit en françois, par m. le duc de nivernois, en mdcclxxxiv. _imprimé à s.h._ par t. kirgate, mdcclxxxv. with an opposite title in english, to. it contains double pages, and every page of french has an opposite one of english. not printed in the best manner of s.h. a copy of this book was sold for _l._; at a sale in .----xxiii. _bishop banner's ghost._ printed by t.k. mdlccxxxix, to. on the first leaf is the following "argument." "in the gardens of the palace of fulham is a dark recess: at the end of this stands a chair, which once belonged to bishop bonner. a certain bishop of london (the late beilby porteus) more than years after the death of the aforesaid bonner, just as the clock of the gothic chapel had struck six, undertook to cut, with his own hand, a narrow walk through this thicket, which is since called the _monk's walk_. he had no sooner begun to clear the way, than lo! suddenly up started from the chair, the ghost of bishop bonner, who, in a tone of just and bitter indignation, uttered the following verses." this curious publication contains only four pages of stanzas, written in alternate rhyme, of and feet metre.----xxiv. _the magpie and her brood_; a fable, from the tales of bonaventure de periers, valet de chambre to the queen of navarre; addressed to miss hotham. this is a very scarce poetical tract of four pages only; subscribed h.w.----xxv. _fourteen different pieces, printed at strawberry hill, of verses, cards, &c._ this title i borrow from a book-auction catalogue. at a sale in , these detached pieces were sold for _l._ _s._; but it is not in my power to identify them. whether they be the same "_parcel of scraps, and loose leaves of poetry, epigrams_," _&c._ which, according to a daily newspaper, were sold at the commencement of this year "for pounds," i am also equally ignorant. see _kirgate's catalogue_, , no. .----xxvi. _hieroglyphic tales_, vo. only seven copies printed; _idem_, no. . from newspaper authority, i learn that these tales formed "a small pamphlet of two sheets, crown vo.," which were sold for _l._; and i understand that the late mr. g. baker was the purchaser. n.b. they are incorporated in the author's printed works; but this is not having the _first_ and _true edition_! there is nothing like the comfort of bleeding smartly for exhibiting these fourth and fifth symptoms of the bibliomania! vide pp. , , ante.----xxvii. _additions to first editions of walpole's lives of the painters, sewed._----xxviii. _the press at strawberry hill to his royal highness the duke of clarence, a poem._----xxix. _the master of otranto in durance._----xxx. _air, a poem._----xxxi. _a poetical epistle to mrs. crewe._----xxxii. _a poetical epistle to lady horatio waldegrave, on the death of the duke of ancaster._----xxxiii. _the press at strawberry hill to miss mary and miss agnes berry, a poetical epistle._ [these last seven articles are taken from mr. cuthell's catalogue of .] i should add that a much more copious and complete list, though not possessing all the intelligence here communicated, was prepared by the late mr. george baker for press; and printed, since his decease, for donations to his particular friends. only twenty copies of this bibliographical brochure are said to have been executed. we will now take leave of the prelum walpolianum by subjoining a copy of the most elegant title-page vignette which ever issued from it. [illustration: fari quÆ sentiat] before the reader's eyes are finally turned from a contemplation of this elegant device--and as connected with the subject of private presses--let me inform him that the marquis of bute is in possession of a thin folio volume, exhibiting paintings, upon vellum, of the various devices used by pope sixtus v., in the frontispieces of the several works which issued from the apostolical press, while he filled the papal chair. to a tasteful bibliomaniac, few volumes would afford so much delight as a contemplation of the present one. it is quite a _keimelion_ in its way!] lysand. i do; but i have not so ardent an admiration of these volumes, as the generality of collectors. on the contrary, i think that the _hafod press_ has, by one single production only, outweighed the whole of the _walpolian_ lucubrations; at least on the score of utility. i might here add, to the foregoing symptoms, a passion to possess works which have been _suppressed_, _condemned_, or _burnt_; but all these things rank under the head of _causes of the rarity_ of books; and as an entire volume might be written upon _this_ symptom _alone_, i can here only allude to to [transcriber's note: second 'to' erroneous] the subject; hoping some diligent bibliographer will one day do for _us_ what foreigners have done for other nations. thus have i, rather slightly, discussed the _symptoms of the disease, called_ =the bibliomania=. during this discussion, i see our friend has been busy, as he was yesterday evening, in making sketches of notes; and if you examine the finished pictures of which such outlines may be made productive, you will probably have a better notion of the accuracy of my classification of these symptoms. it is much to be wished, whatever may be the whims of desperate book-collectors, that, in _some_ of those volumes which are constantly circulating in the bibliomaniacal market, we had a more clear and satisfactory account of the rise and progress of arts and sciences. however strong may be my attachment to the profession of the cloth, i could readily exchange a great number of old volumes of polemical and hortatory divinity for interesting disquisitions upon the manners, customs, and general history of the times. over what a dark and troublesome ocean must we sail, before we get even a glimpse at the progressive improvement of our ancestors in civilised life! oh, that some judicious and faithful reporter had lived three hundred and odd years ago!--we might then have had a more satisfactory account of the _origin of printing with metal types_. lis. pray give us your sentiments upon this latter subject. we have almost the whole day before us:--the sun has hardly begun to decline from his highest point. lysand. a very pretty and smooth subject to discuss, truly! the longest day and the most effectually-renovated powers of body and mind, are hardly sufficient to come to any satisfactory conclusion, upon the subject. how can i, therefore, after the fatigues of the whole of yesterday, and with barely seven hours of daylight yet to follow, pretend to enter upon it? no: i will here only barely mention trithemius[ ]--who might have been numbered among the patriarchal bibliographers we noticed when discoursing in our friend's cabinet--as an author from whom considerable assistance has been received respecting early typographical researches. indeed, trithemius merits a more marked distinction in the annals of literature than many are supposed to grant him: at any rate, i wish his labours were better known to our own countrymen. [footnote : we are indebted to the abbé trithemius, who was a diligent chronicler and indefatigable visitor of old libraries, for a good deal of curious and interesting intelligence; and however scioppius (_de orig. domûs austriac._), brower (_vit. fortunat. pictav._, p. .), and possevinus (_apparant sacr._ p. ), may carp at his simplicity and want of judgment, yet, as baillet (from whom i have borrowed the foregoing authorities) has justly remarked--"since the time of trithemius there have been many libraries, particularly in germany, which have been pillaged or burnt in the destruction of monasteries; so that the books which he describes as having seen in many places, purposely visited by him for inspection, may have been destroyed in the conflagration of religious houses." _jugemens des savans_; vol. ii., pt. i., p. , edit. mo. it is from trithemius, after all, that we have the only _direct_ evidence concerning the origin of printing with metal types: and the bibliographical world is much indebted to chevelier (_l'origine de l'imprimerie de paris_, , to., pp. - .) for having been the first to adduce the positive evidence of this writer; who tells us, in his valuable _chronicon hirsaugiens_ ( , vols. folio), that he received his testimony from the mouth of fust's son-in-law--"ex ore petri opilionis audivi,"--that guttenburg [transcriber's note: gutenberg] was the author of the invention. the historical works of trithemius were collected and published in , in folio, two parts, and his other works are minutely detailed in the th volume of the _dictionnarie [transcriber's note: dictionnaire] historique_, published at caen, in . of these, one of the most curious is his _polygraphia_: being first printed at paris, in , in a beautiful folio volume; and presenting us, in the frontispiece, with a portrait of the abbé; which is probably the first, if not the only legitimate, print of him extant. whether it be copied from a figure on his tomb--as it has a good deal of the _monumental_ character--i have no means of ascertaining. for the gratification of all tasteful bibliomaniacs, an admirable facsimile is here annexed. the _polygraphia_ of trithemius was translated into french, and published in , folio. his work _de scriptoribus ecclesiasticis_, colon, , to., with two appendices, contains much valuable matter. the author died in his th year, a.d. : according to the inscription upon his tomb in the monastery of the benedictines at wirtzburg. his life has been written by busæus, a jesuit. see la monnoye's note in the _jugemens des savans_; _ibid._ [illustration]] lis. i will set his works down among my literary _desiderata_. but proceed. lysand. with what? am i to talk for ever? belin. while you discourse so much to the purpose, you may surely not object to a continuance of this conversation. i wish only to be informed whether bibliomaniacs are indisputably known by the prevalence of all, or of any, of the symptoms which you have just described. alman. is there any other passion, or fancy, in the book-way, from which we may judge of bibliomaniacism? lysand. let me consider. yes; there is one other characteristic of the book-madman that may as well be noticed. it is an ardent desire to collect all the editions of a work which have been published. not only the first--whether _uncut, upon large paper_, _in the black-letter_, _unique_, _tall_, or _illustrated_--but all the editions.[ ] [footnote : i frankly confess that i was, myself, once desperately afflicted with this _eleventh_ symptom of _the bibliomania_; having collected not fewer than _seventy-five_ editions of the greek testament--but time has cooled my ardour, and mended my judgment. i have discarded seventy, and retain only five: which are _r. steevens's_ of , _the elzevir_ of , _mill's_ of , _westein's_ of , and _griesbach's_ of --as beautifully and accurately reprinted at oxford.] belin. strange--but true, i warrant! lysand. most true; but, in my humble opinion, most ridiculous; for what can a sensible man desire beyond the earliest and best editions of a work? be it also noticed that these works are sometimes very capricious and extroardinary [transcriber's note: extraordinary]. thus, baptista is wretched unless he possess every edition of our early grammarians, _holt_, _stanbridge_, and _whittinton_: a reimpression, or a new edition, is a matter of almost equal indifference: for his slumbers are broken and oppressive unless _all_ the _dear wynkyns_ and _pynsons_ are found within his closet!--up starts florizel, and blows his bugle, at the annunciation of any work, new or old, upon the diversions of _hawking_, _hunting_, or _fishing_![ ] carry him through camillo's cabinet of dutch pictures, and you will see how instinctively, as it were, his eyes are fixed upon a sporting piece by wouvermans. the hooded hawk, in his estimation, hath more charms than guido's madonna:--how he envies every rider upon his white horse!--how he burns to bestride the foremost steed, and to mingle in the fair throng, who turn their blue eyes to the scarcely bluer expanse of heaven! here he recognises _gervase markham_, spurring his courser; and there he fancies himself lifting _dame juliana_ from her horse! happy deception! dear fiction! says florizel--while he throws his eyes in an opposite direction, and views every printed book upon the subject, from _barnes_ to _thornton_. [footnote : some superficial notes, accompanied by an interesting wood-cut of a man carrying hawks for sale, in my edition of robinson's translation of _more's utopia_, kindled, in the breast of mr. joseph haslewood, a prodigious ardour to pursue the subjects above-mentioned to their farthest possible limits. not eolus himself excited greater commotion in the mediterranean waves than did my bibliomaniacal friend in agitating the black-letter ocean--'a sedibus imis'--for the discovering of every volume which had been published upon these delectable pursuits. accordingly there appeared in due time--'[post] magni procedere menses'--some very ingenious and elaborate disquisitions upon hunting and hawking and fishing, in the ninth and tenth volumes of _the censura literaria_; which, with such additions as his enlarged experience has subsequently obtained, might be thought an interesting work if reprinted in a duodecimo volume. but mr. haslewood's mind, as was to be expected, could not rest satisfied with what he considered as mere _nuclei_ productions: accordingly, it became clothed with larger wings, and meditated a bolder flight; and after soaring in a _hawk_-like manner, to mark the object of its prey, it pounced upon the book of _hawking, hunting, fishing, &c._, which had been reprinted by w. de worde, from the original edition published in the abbey of st. albans. prefixed to the republication of this curious volume, the reader will discover a great deal of laborious and successful research connected with the book and its author. and yet i question whether, in the midst of all the wood-cuts with which it abounds, there be found any thing more suitable to the 'high and mounting spirit' (see braithwait's amusing discourse upon hawking, in his _english gentleman_, p. - .) of the editor's taste, than the ensuing representation of a pilgrim hawker?!--taken from one of the frontispieces of _l'acadamia peregrina del doni_; , to., fol. . [illustration] we will conclude this _hawking_ note with the following excerpt from one of the earliest editions of the abridgment of our statutes:--'nul home pringe les oves dascu[n] _faucon_, _goshawke_, _lan_, ou swan hors de le nyst sur peyn de inprison p[our] vn an et vn iour et de faire fyn all volunte le roy et que nul home puis le fest de paque p[ro]chyn auenpart ascun _hawke_ de le brode dengl' appell vne _nyesse_, _goshawke_, _lan_, ou _laneret_ sur sa mayn, sur peyn de forfaiture son _hawke_, et que null enchasse ascun hawke hors de c[ou]uerte sur peyne de forfaiture x li. lun moyte al roy et lauter a celuy que voet sur.' anno xi. h. vij. ca. xvij. _abbreviamentum statutorum_; printed by pynson, , vo., fol. lxxvij.] there are other tastes of an equally strange, but more sombre, character. dion will possess every work which has any connexion, intimate or remote, with _latimer_ and _swedenborg_;[ ] while antigonus is resolved upon securing every lucubration of _withers_ or _warburton_; whether grave or gay, lively or severe. [footnote : as i could not consistently give emanuel swedenborg a niche among the bibliomaniacal heroes noticed towards the conclusion of part v. of this work, i have reserved, for the present place, a few extracts of the titles of his works, from a catalogue of the same, published in ; which i strenuously advise the curious to get possession of--and for two reasons: first, if he be a _swedenborgian_, his happiness will be nearly complete, and he will thank me for having pointed out such a source of comfort to him: secondly, if he be _not_ a disciple of the same master, he may be amused by meditating upon the strange whims and fancies which possess certain individuals, and which have sufficient attractions yet to make proselytes and converts!! written march , a.d. . now for the extracts. '_a catalogue of the printed and unprinted works_ of the hon. emanuel swedenborg, in chronological order. to which are added some observations, recommending the perusal of his theological writings. together with a compendious view of the faith of a new heaven and a new church, in its universal and particular forms. london, printed by robert hindmarsh, no. , clerkenwell close, mdcclxxxv. those marked thus (*) are translated into english.' no. . _regnum animale_, or the animal kingdom in three parts. the first treats of the viscera of the abdomen, or the lower region. the second, of the viscera of the breast, or of the organs of the superior region. the third, of the skin, the touch, and the taste, and of organical forms in general. part printed at the hague, and part in london, , , in to. . _de cultu et amore dei_, or of the worship and love of god. the first part treats of the origin of the earth, of paradise, of the birth, infancy, and love of the first man, or adam. london, , in to. the second part treats of the marriage of the first man, of the soul, of the intellectual spirit, of the state of integrity, and of the image of god. london, , to. . _arcana coelestia_, or heavenly mysteries contained in the sacred scriptures or word of the lord, manifested and laid open, in an explanation of the books of genesis and exodus, interspersed with relations of wonderful things seen in the world of spirits, and the heaven of angels. london, from to , in eight volumes, to. "in this work the reader is taught to regard the letter of the scriptures as the repository of holy and divine things within; as a cabinet containing the infinite treasures and bright gems of spiritual and celestial wisdom; &c."(*).... . _de coelo et inferno_; or a treatise concerning heaven and hell, and of the wonderful things therein heard and seen. london, , to. "by this work the reader may attain to some conception of the heavenly kingdom, and may learn therein that all social virtues, and all the tender affections that give consistence and harmony to society, and do honour to humanity, find place and exercise in the utmost purity in those delectable abodes; where every thing that can delight the eye, or rejoice the heart, entertain the imagination, or exalt the understanding, conspire with innocence, love, joy, and peace, to bless the spirits of just men made perfect, and to make glad the city of our god," &c.(*)] loren. i suspect that, like many dashing artists, you are painting for _effect_? phil. on the part of lysander, i may safely affirm that the preceding has been no caricatured description. i know more than one baptista, and florizel, and dion, and antigonus. lis. i hope i shall shortly add to the number of such an enthusiastic class of book-collectors--i'm for _natural history_; and, in this department, for birds and beasts--_gesner_ and _bewick_![ ] [footnote : the works upon natural history by gesner, and especially the large tomes published about the middle of the sixteenth century, are, some of them, well worth procuring; on account of the fidelity and execution of the wood-cuts of birds and animals. bewick's earliest editions of _birds_ and _beasts_ should be in the cabinet of every choice collector.] phil. restrain your wild feelings--listen to the sober satire of lysander. have you nothing else, in closing this symptomatic subject, to discourse upon? lysand. there is certainly another point not very remotely connected with the two preceding; and it is this: a passion to possess large and voluminous works, and to estimate the treasures of our libraries rather by their extent and splendour than by their intrinsic worth: forgetting how prettily ronsard[ ] has illustrated this subject by the utility and beauty of small rivers in comparison with those which overflow their banks and spread destruction around. "oh combien (says cailleau, in his _roman bibliographique_) un petit livre bien pensé, bein [transcriber's note: bien] plein, et bein [transcriber's note: bien] écrit, est plus agréable, plus utile à lire, que ces vastes compilations à la formation desquelles l'intérêt a présidé plus souvent que le bon-goût!" [footnote : ie te confesse bien que le fleuve de seine a le cours grand et long, mais tousiours il attraine avec soy de la fange, et ses plis recourbrez, sans estre iamais nets, sont tousiours embourbez: vn petit ruisselet a tousiours l'onde nette, aussi le papillon et la gentille auette y vont puiser de l'eau, et non en ces torrens qui tonnent d'vn grand bruit pas les roches courant: petit sonnets bien faits, belles chansons petites, petits discourds gentils, sont les fleurs des charites, des soeurs et d'apollon, qui ne daignent aymer ceux qui chantent une oeuvre aussi grand que la mer, sans riue ny sans fond, de tempestes armée et qui iamais ne dort tranquille ny calmée. _poems de ronsard_; fol. . paris . mo. these are pretty lines, and have a melodious flow; but ronsard, in his and feet metres, is one of the most fascinating of the old french poets. the subject, above alluded to by lysander, may be yet more strongly illustrated: for thus speaks spizelius upon it. 'solent viri multijugæ lectionis, qui avidè, quos possunt versant libros, ut in mentis ventrem trajicere eos velle, totosque devorare videantur, elegantis proverbii salivâ librorum helluones nuncupari; ipso quidem tullio prælucente, qui avidos lectores librorum, ac propemodum insiatiables helluones dixit, siquidem _vastissima volumina_ percurrant, et quicquid boni succi exprimere possunt, propriis et alienis impendant emolumentis." again: "maxima cum sit eorum literarum stoliditas, qui, quod nocte somniarunt, continuo edunt in lucem, neque ipsa virium imbecillitate suarum, ab arduo scribendi munere et onere, sese revocari patiuntur," &c. _infelix literatus_; pp. , . morof is worth our notice upon this subject: "veniamus ad bibliothecas ipsas, quales vel privatæ sunt, vel publicæ. illæ, quanquam in molem tantam non excrescant ut publicæ; sunt tamen etiam inter privatos viri illustres et opulenti qui in libris omnis generis coemendis nullis parcunt sumptibus. quorum [greek: bibliomanian] reprehendit seneca _ep._ . , _et de tranquil. animi_ c. , ridet lucianus in libello [greek: pros apaideuton kai polla biblia ônoumenon]; et auson. _epigr._ . sunt ita animati nonnulli, ut _magno de flumine malint quam de fonticulo tantundem sumere;_ cum vastioris bibliothecæ minor interdum usus sit, quam ejus quæ selectis paucioribus libris constat." _polyhist. literar._ vol. i., p. . he goes on in a very amusing manner; but this note may be thought already too long.] belin. well; we live in a marvellous book-collecting and book-reading age--yet a word more: alman. i crave your pardon, belinda; but i have a thought which must be now imparted, or the consequence may be serious. lysand. i wait both your commands. alman. my thought--or rather the subject which now occupies my mind--is this: you have told us of the symptoms of the _disease of book-madness_, now pray inform us, as a tender-hearted physician, what are the _means of its cure_? belin. the very question i was about to put to our bibliomaniacal physician. pray inform us what are the means of cure in this disorder? lysand. you should say probable means of cure, as i verily believe there are no certain and correct remedies. belin. well, sir, _probable_ means--if it must be so. discourse largely and distinctly upon these. lysand. briefly and perspicuously, if you please: and thus we begin. in the _first place_, the disease of the bibliomania is materially softened, or rendered mild, by directing our studies to _useful_ and _profitable_ works; whether these be printed upon small or large paper, in the gothic, roman, or italic type. to consider merely the _intrinsic excellence_, and not the _exterior splendour_, or adventitious value, of any production will keep us perhaps wholly free from this disease. let the midnight lamp be burnt to illuminate the stores of antiquity--whether they be romances, or chronicles, or legends, and whether they be printed by aldus or caxton--if a brighter lustre can thence be thrown upon the pages of modern learning! to trace genius to its source, or to see how she has been influenced or modified by the lore of past times, is both a pleasing and profitable pursuit. to see how shakspeare, here and there, has plucked a flower from some old ballad or popular tale, to enrich his own unperishable garland;--to follow spenser and milton in their delightful labyrinths 'midst the splendour of italian literature; are studies which stamp a dignity upon our intellectual characters! but, in such a pursuit, let us not overlook the wisdom of modern times, nor fancy that what is only ancient can be excellent. we must remember that bacon, boyle, locke, taylor, chillingworth, robertson, hume, gibbon, and paley, are names which always command attention from the wise, and remind us of the improved state of reason and acquired knowledge during the two last centuries. alman. there seems at least sound sense, with the prospect of much future good, in this _first_ recipe. what is your second. lysand. in the _second place_, the reprinting of scarce and intrinsically valuable works is another means of preventing the propagation of this disorder. amidst all our present sufferings under the bibliomania, it is some consolation to find discerning and spirited booksellers republishing the ancient chroniclers; and the collections known by the names of "_the harleian miscellany_" and "_lord somers' tracts_," and "_the voyages of hakluyt_."[ ] these are noble efforts, and richly deserve the public patronage. [footnote : in the _quarterly review_ for august, , this my second remedy for curing the disease of the bibliomania is considered as inefficient. i have a great respect for this review, but i understand neither the premises nor conclusions therein laid down concerning the subject in discussion. if "those who cannot afford to purchase original publications must be content with entire reprints of them" (i give the very words, though not the entire sentence), it surely tends to lessen the degree of competition for "the original publication." a sober reader, or an economical book-buyer, wants a certain tract on the ground of its utility:--but take my own case--who have very few hundreds per annum to procure food for the body as well as the mind. i wish to consult roy's tract of "rede me and be not wroth," (vide p. , ante)--or the "expedition into scotland" of (see mr. beloe's _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_, vol. ii., p. ), because these are really interesting, as well as rare, volumes. there is at present no reprint of either; and can i afford to bid ten or twelve guineas for each of them at a public book-sale? but--let them be faithfully _reprinted_, and even a golden guinea (if such a coin be now in the pocket of a poor bibliomaniac like myself) would be considered by me as _dear_ terms upon which to purchase the _original_ edition! the reviewer has illustrated his position by a model of the pigot diamond; and intimates that this model does not "lessen the public desire to possess the original." lord mansfield once observed that nothing more frequently tended to perplex an argument than a simile--(the remark is somewhere in _burrows's reports_); and the judge's dictum seems here a little verified. if the glass or crystal model could reflect _all the lustre_ of the original, it would be of equal utility; but it cannot. now the reprint _does_ impart _all_ the intelligence and intrinsic worth of the original (for "the ugliness of the types" cannot be thought worthy of aiding the argument one way or another) therefore the reprint of roy's poetical tract is not illustrated by the model of the pigot diamond: which latter cannot impart the intrinsic value of the original. let us now say a word about the _reprints_ above commended by lysander. when mr. harding went to press with the first volume of the _harleian miscellany_, his zeal struggled with his prudence about the number of copies to be printed of so voluminous a work. accordingly, he ventured upon only copies. as the work advanced, (and, i would hope, as the recommendation of it, in the last edition of the bibliomania, promoted its sale) he took courage, and struck off another copies of the earlier volumes: and thus this magnificent reprint (which will be followed up by two volumes of additional matter collected by mr. park, its editor) may be pronounced a profitable, as well as generally serviceable, publication to the cause of literature. the original edition of _lord somers' tracts_ having become exceedingly scarce, and the arrangement of them being equally confused, three spirited booksellers, under the editorial inspection of mr. walter scott, are putting forth a correct, well arranged, and beautiful reprint of the same invaluable work. five volumes are already published. _the voyages of hakluyt_ are republishing by mr. evans, of pall mall. four volumes are already before the public; of which only copies of the small, and of the large, are printed. the reprint will contain the whole of hakluyt, with the addition of several scarce voyages and travels.] loren. i fully coincide with these sentiments; and, as a proof of it, regularly order my london bookseller to transmit to me every volume of the reprint of these excellent works as it is published. belin. can you find it in your heart, dear brother, to part with your black-letter chronicles, and hakluyt's voyages, for these new publications? loren. i keep the best editions of the ancient chronicles; but the new fabian, the harleian miscellany, lord somers' tracts, and the voyages, are unquestionably to be preferred; since they are more full and complete. but proceed with your other probable means of cure. lysand. in the _third place_, the editing of our best ancient authors, whether in prose or poetry,[ ] is another means of effectually counteracting the mischievous effects arising from the bibliomaniacal disease; and, on this score, i do think this country stands pre-eminently conspicuous; for we are indefatigable in our attentions towards restoring the corrupted texts of our poets. [footnote : the last new editions of our standard belles-lettres writers are the following: which should be found in every gentleman's library. _shakspeare_, , vols., or , vols. (vide p. , ante); _pope_, by _jos. warton_; , vols. vo.; or by _lisle bowles_, , vols. vo.; _spenser_, by _h.j. todd_, , vols. vo.; _milton_, by _the same_, vols., vo.; _massinger_, by _w. gifford_, , vols. vo.; _sir david lyndsay_, by _george chalmers_, , vols. vo.; _dryden_, by _walter scott_, , vols. vo.; _churchill_, by ----, , vols. vo.; _hudibras_, by _dr. grey_, , or , vols. vo.; _ben. jonson_, by _w. gifford_ (_sub prelo_); and _bishop corbett's poems_, by _octavius gilchrist_, , vo.] phil. yet forgive me if i avow that this same country, whose editorial labours you are thus commending, is shamefully deficient in the cultivation of _ancient english history_! i speak my sentiments roundly upon this subject: because you know, lysander, how vigilantly i have cultivated it, and how long and keenly i have expressed my regret at the almost total apathy which prevails respecting it. there is no country upon earth which has a more plentiful or faithful stock of historians than our own; and if it were only to discover how superficially some of our recent and popular historians have written upon it, it were surely worth the labour of investigation to examine the yet existing records of past ages. loren. to effect this completely, you should have a national press. lis. and why not? have we here no patriotic spirit similar to that which influenced the francises, richlieus, colberts, and louises of france? alman. you are getting into bibliographical politics! proceed, good lysander, with your other probable means of cure. lysand. in the _fourth place_, the erection of public institutions[ ] is of great service in diffusing a love of books for their intrinsic utility, and is of very general advantage to scholars and authors who cannot purchase every book which they find it necessary to consult. [footnote : the royal, london, surrey, and russel institutions, have been the means of concentrating, in divers parts of the metropolis, large libraries of useful books; which, it is to be hoped, will eventually bring into disgrace and contempt what are called _circulating libraries_--vehicles, too often, of insufferable nonsense, and irremediable mischief!] phil. you are right. these institutions are of recent growth, but of general utility. they are a sort of _intellectual hospitals_--according to your mode of treating the bibliomania. yet i dare venture to affirm that the _news-paper room_ is always better attended than the _library_! lysand. let us have no sarcasms. i will now give you the _fifth_ and last probable means of cure of the bibliomania; and that is _the study of bibliography_.[ ] [footnote : "unne [transcriber's note: une] bonne bibliographie," says marchand, "soit générale soit particuliére, soit profane soit écclésiastique, soit nationale, provinciale, ou locale, soit simplement personelle, en un mot de quelque autre genre que ce puisse être, n'est pas un ouvrage aussi facile que beaucoup de gens se le pourroient imaginer; mais, elles ne doivent néanmoins nullement prévenir contre celle-ci. telle qu'elle est, elle ne laisse pas d'être bonne, utile, et digne d'être recherchée par les amateurs de l'histoire litteraire." _diction. historique_, vol. i. p. . peignot, in his _dictionnaire de bibliologie_, vol. i. , has given a very pompous account of what ought to be the talents and duties of a bibliographer. it would be difficult indeed to find such qualifications, as he describes, united in one person! de bure, in the eighth volume of his _bibliographie instructive_, has prefixed a "discourse upon the science of bibliography, and the duties of a bibliographer," which is worth consulting: but i know of nothing which better describes, in few words, such a character, than the following: "in eo sit multijuga materiarum librorumque notitia, ut saltem potiores eligat et inquirat: fida et sedula apud exteras gentes procuratio, ut eos arcessat; summa patientia ut rarè venalis expectet; peculium semper præsens et paratum, ne, si quando occurrunt, emendi, occasio intercidat: prudens denique auri argentique contemptus, ut pecuniis sponte careat quæ in bibliothecam formandam et nutriendam sunt insumendæ. si forte vir literatus eo felicitatis pervenit ut talem thesaurum coacervaverit, nec solus illo invidiose fruatur, sed usam cum eruditis qui virgilias suas utilitati publicæ devoverunt, liberaliter communicet;" &c.--_bibliotheca hulsiana_, vol. i. præfat. p. , . morhof abounds with sagacious reflections upon this important subject: but are there fifty men in great britain who love to read the _polyhistor literarius_? the observations of ameilhon and camus, in the _memoires de l'institut_, are also well worth consultation; as are those of le long, and his editor, prefixed to the last edition of the _bibliotheca sacra_.] lis. excellent!--treat copiously upon this my darling subject. belin. you speak with the enthusiasm of a young convert; but i should think the study of bibliography a sure means of increasing the violence of the book-disease. lysand. the encouragement of _the study of bibliography_, in its legitimate sense, and towards its true object, may be numbered among the most efficacious cures for this destructive malady. to place competent librarians over the several departments of a large public library; or to submit a library, on a more confined scale, to one diligent, enthusiastic, well-informed, and well-bred bibliographer or librarian (of which in this metropolis we have so many examples), is doing a vast deal towards directing the channels of literature to flow in their proper courses. and thus i close the account of my recipes for the cure of the bibliomania. a few words more and i have done. it is, my friends, in the erection of libraries as in literary compositions, the task is difficult, and will generally meet with opposition from some fastidious quarter,[ ] which is always betraying a fretful anxiety to bring every thing to its own ideal standard of perfection. to counteract the unpleasant effect which such an impression must necessarily produce, be diligent and faithful, to your utmost ability, in whatsoever you undertake. you need not evince the fecundity of a german[ ] author; but only exert your best endeavours, and leave the issue to a future generation. posterity will weigh, in even scales, your merits and demerits, when all present animosities and personal prejudices shall have subsided; and when the utility of our labours, whether in promoting wisdom or virtue, shall be unreservedly acknowledged. you may sleep in peace before this decision take place; but your children may live to witness it; and your name, in consequence, become a passport for them into circles of learning and worth. let us now retreat; or, rather, walk round lorenzo's grounds. we have had _book-discussion_ enough to last us to the end of the year.[ ] i begin to be wearied of conversing. [footnote : my favourite author, morhof, has spoken 'comme un brave homme' upon the difficulty of literary enterprizes, and the facility and venom of detraction: i support his assertion 'totis viribus'; and to beg to speak in the same person with himself. 'non ignotum mihi est, quantæ molis opus humeris meis incumbat. oceanum enim ingressus sum, in quo portum invenire difficile est, naufragii periculum à syrtibus et scopulis imminet. quis enim in tanta multitudine rerum et librorum omnia exhauriret? quis non alicubi impingeret? quis salvum ab invidia caput retraheret, ac malignitatis dentes in liberiore censura evitaret? præterea ut palato et gustu differunt convivæ, ita judiciis dissident lectores, neque omnium idem de rebus sensus est, hoc præsertim tempore, quo plures sunt librorum judices, quam lectores, et è lectoribus in lictores, ubique virgas et secures expedituros, multi degenerant.' _præf. morhof._--even the great lambecius (of whom see p. , ante) was compelled to deliver his sentiments thus:--'laborem hunc meum non periculosum minus et maglignis liventium _zoilorum_ dentibus obnoxium, quam prolixum foro et difficilem.' prod. hist. lit. _proleg._ one of the roman philosophers (i think it was seneca) said, in his last moments, 'whether or not the gods will be pleased with what i have done, i cannot take upon me to pronounce: but, this i know--it has been my invariable object to please them.' for 'the gods' read 'the public'--and then i beg leave, in a literary point of view, to repeat the words of seneca.] [footnote : 'from the last catalogue of the fair of lepisic [transcriber's note: leipsic], it would appear that there are now in germany _ten thousand two hundred and forty three authors_, full of _health_ and _spirit_, and each of whom publishes at least _once a year_!' _american review_, jan. , p. .] [footnote : through the favour of dr. drury, the editor is enabled to present the reader with an original letter, enclosing a list of books directed to be purchased by benjamin heath, esq.; also his portrait. this document would have been better inserted, in point of chronological order, in part v., but, as the editor did not receive it till long after that part was printed, he trusts it will be thought better late than never. the direction. [illustration: [handwritten] to mr john mann at the hand in hand fire office in angel court on snow hill [illegible] in london] exeter, st march, . dear sir, i take the liberty presuming upon the intimacy of our acquaintance to employ you in a pretty troublesome affair. fletcher gyles, bookseller in holbourn, with whom i had some dealings about two years ago, has lately sent me down a catalogue of a library which will begin to be sold by auction at his house next monday evening. as i have scarce laid out any money in books for these two years past, the great number of valuable books contained in this collection, together with the tempting prospect of getting them cheaper in an auction than they are to be had in a sale, or in any other way whatsoever, has induced me to lay out a sum of mony this way, at present, which will probably content my curiosity in this kind, for several years to come. mr. gyles has offered himself to act for me, but as i think 'tis too great a trial of his honesty to make him at the same time both buyer & seller, & as books are quite out of my brother's way, i have been able to think of no friend i could throw this trouble upon but you. i propose to lay out about £ or £ , and have drawn up a list of the books i am inclined to, which you have in the first leaf, with the price to each book, which i would by no means exceed, but as far as which, with respect to each single book, i would venture to go; though i am persuaded upon the whole they are vastly overvalued. for my valuation is founded in proportion upon what i have been charged for books of this kind, when i have sent for them on purpose from london, and i have had too many proofs that the booksellers make it a rule to charge near double for an uncommon book, when sent for on purpose, of what they would take for it in their own shops, or at a sale. so that, though the amount of the inclosed list is above £ , yet, when deductions are made for the savings by the chance of the auction, & for the full rate of such books as i may be over bid in, i am satisfied it will come within the sum i propose. now, sir, the favour which i would beg of you is to get some trusty person (& if you should not be able readily to think of a proper person yourself, mr. hinchcliffe or mr. peele may probably be able to recommend one) to attend this auction, in my behalf, from the beginning to the end, & to bid for me agreeably to the inclosed list & (as the additional trouble of it over and above the attendance would not be great) to mark in the catalogue, which you may have of mr. gyles for a shilling, the price every book contained in the catalogue is sold at, for my future direction in these matters. for this service i would willingly allow guineas, which, the auction continuing days, is shillings over and above half a crown a day; or, if that is not sufficient, whatever more shall be thought necessary to get my commission well executed. it may be necessary to observe to you that the auction requires the attendance of the whole day, beginning at eleven in the morning, and ending at two and at five in the afternoon, and ending at eight. it may also be proper to inform the person you shall employ that he is not to govern his first bidding by the valuation in my list for many of the books will very probably be sold for less than half what i have marked them at; he is therefore, in every instance, to bid low at first, and afterwards to continue advancing just beyond the other bidders, till he has either bought the book, or the price i have fixed it at is exceeded. there are many books in the list which have several numbers before them; the meaning of which is that the very same book is in several places of the catalogue; and in that case, i would have the first of them bought, if it be in very good condition, otherwise let the person employed wait till the other comes up. i would desire him also not to buy any book at all that is both dirty & ragged; but, though the binding should not be in very good order, that would be no objection with me, provided the book was clean. i would also desire him not to bid for any number in the catalogue that is not expressly mentioned in my list, upon a supposition that it may be the same book with some that are mentioned in it; nor to omitt any book that is actually upon the list, upon an imagination, from the title, that it may be there more than once; for i have drawn it up upon an exact consideration of the editions of the books, insomuch that there is no book twice upon the list, but where there is a very great difference in the editions; nor is any of the books in my list oftener in the catalogue than is expressly specified in it. by the conditions of sale, the auction is constantly adjourned from fryday night to monday morning, the saturday being appointed for fetching away, at the expence of the buyer, the books bought the week before, & for payment of the mony. this part of the trouble i must beg you to charge yourself with; &, in order to enable you, as to the payment, i shall send you up, either by the next post, or, however, time enough for the saturday following, fifty pounds. i would beg the favour of you to let me hear from you, if possible, by the return of the post; & also to give me an account by every saturday night's post what books are bought for me, and at what price. as to which you need only mention the numbers without the titles, since i have a catalogue by me. when the auction is ended, i shall take the liberty of giving you farther directions about packing up the books, & the way i would have them sent down. when i drew up my list, i had not observed one of the conditions of sale, which imports that no person is to advance less than a shilling after twenty shillings is bid for any book. now you will find a pretty many books which i have valued at more than twenty shillings marked at an odd sixpence; in all which cases, i would have the bidder add sixpence more to the price i have fixed, in order to make it even money, & conformable to the conditions of the auction. and now, dear sir, another person would make a thousand apologies for giving you all this trouble; all which superfluous tediousness i shall spare you, being persuaded i shall do you a great pleasure in giving you an opportunity of being serviceable to me, as i am sure it would be a very sensible one to me, if i ever had it in my power to be of any use to you. mine and my wive's humble respects wait upon mrs. mann, and you will be so good to present my hearty services to all our friends. i am most sincerely, dear sir, [illustration: [handwritten] your faithful & affectionate humble servt. benj heath] [illustration: his seal.] £ _s._ _d._ octavo pet. angeli bargæi poemata hieron. fracastorij poemata or , or , joan. leonis africæ desc. christ. longolij orationes et epistolæ pierij valeriani hexametri quarto diogenes laertius octavo or , scaligerana or , car. ogerij iter danicum quarto plautus taubmanni octavo hen. lornenij itinerarium quarto marcus antonius de dominis hen. stephani dialogus ausonii opera anacreon and sappho excerpta ex polybio sophocles and eschylus ------------ carried forward £ £ _s._ _d._ brought forward octavo or , or , historia gothorum or , or , lucretius gifanij is casaubon de satyrica poesi quarto or , iamblicus de vita pythag. aulus gellius gronovij statij quæ extant barthij octavo or , martial scriverij quarto juvenal henninij manilij astronomicon poetriarum octo folio fam. strada da bello belgico octavo virgilius illustratus paulli manutij epistolæ folio or , or , io. leunclavij annales octavo senecæ tragediæ scriverij pontani opera folio demosthenis et Æschinis opera thucydides wasse platonis opera herodoti historia quarto pauli collomesij opera bern. pensini vita baronij octavo or , poesis philosophica folio philostrati opera historiæ romanæ scriptores plutarchi opera octavo caninij hellenismus or , virgilius hiensij folio geo. buchanani opera plautus lambini horatius turnebi et lambini octavo dom. baudij amores folio Æschyli tragediæ octavo lud. kusterus de vero usu, &c. quarto gab. faerni fabulæ centum folio luciani opera ------------- carried forward £ £ _s._ _d._ brought forward dionis cassij historia diodorus siculus appiani historia palladius de gentibus indiæ isocratij orationes quarto papin. statij opera claudian cum animad. barthij folio maffæi historia indica saxonis grammatici historia octavo huntingtoni epistolæ quarto and. nangerij opera tho. hyde historia relig. vett. pers. claud. salmasij epistolæ theocriti moschi bionis hesiodus græce folio rerum moscoviticarum coment. angeli politiani opera octavo ausonius mythographi latini quarto aristotelis opera octavo fabricij bibliotheca latina quarto sannazarij poemata octavo meursij elegantiæ statij opera is casauboni comment. maximi tyrij dissertationes folio nic. antonij bibliotheca hispan. octavo ovidij opera folio nic. antonij bibliotheca hisp. vetus octavo pet. dan. huetij comentarius sir john suckling's plays, &c. dr. downe's poems quarto lord's discovery of the banian religion folio or , burnet's theory of ye earth octavo milton's poems king's british merchant ------------- carried forward £ £ _s._ _d._ brought forward milton's paradise regained folio wheeler's journey into greece octavo or , grevil's life of sir p. sidney jobson debes's description of feroe terry's voyage to the east indies quarto description de l'egypte apologie de m. castar replique de m. girac octavo geddes's history of the church, &c. songs by the earl of surrey or , oeuvres de sarasin or , scaligerana quarto viaggi di pietro della valli opera di annibale caro orlando inamorato or , pastor fido or , morgante maggiore or , la gerusalemme liberata il verato orlando inamorato historia della guerre civili scritti nella causa veniziana historia della sacra inquisitione examinatione sopra la rhetorica or , istoria diplomatica fasti consolari di salvini satire del menzini folio bibliotheca napolitana di toppi orlando furioso quarto or , dialoghi del speroni poetica di aristotele volgarizzata poetica di aristotele di piccolomini della difesa della comedia di dante squittinio della liberta veneta il goffredo col. comento di beni dante di daniello ------------- carried forward £ £ _s._ _d._ brought forward folio historia del regno di napoli historia del consilio tridentino vocabularia della crusca octavo voyage de bachanmont, &c. or , or , or , ragionamenti del aretino prose fiorentine lettre volgari gravina della ragione poetica battaglie di mugio or , la comedia di dante quarto degli raguagli di parnaso il decameron di boccaccio or , lezioni di varchi l'amadigi di tasso folio l'adone del marino il libro del cortegiano istoria del concilio di trento la historia di italia di guicciardini octavo rime diverse del mutio l'amorosa fiametta compendio del historie di nap. opere di guilio cammillo l'aminta di tasso l'opere poetiche di guarin comedie di m. agnolo firenz. notize de libri rari satire e rime di aristo delle eloquenza italiana comedie varie labarinto d'amore di boccac. opere di redi quarto lettere di vincenzio martelli or , ameto di boccaccio or , le rime di petrarca ragionamento dell' academico -------------- carried forward £ £ _s._ _d._ brought forward poesie liriche del testi octavo il petrarca or , lettre di paolo sarpi opere burleschi di berni or , prose di m. agnolo firenz. commento di ser agresto l'aminta di tasso la secchia rapita or , comedie di aretino trattato delle materie benef. il do libro delle opere burlesch. quarto annotationi e discorsi gyrone il cortese il decamerone di boccaccio historia della cose passate apologia degli academia della guerra di fiandra rime e prose di maffei discorsi poetichi octavo la libreria del doni la cassaria teatro italiano la divina comedia di dante la rime di angelo di cestanzo tutte le opere di bernia -------------- £ --------------] * * * * * lysander concluded; when lorenzo rose from his seat, and begged of us to walk round his grounds. it was now high noon; and, after a pleasant stroll, we retreated again to the alcove, where we found a cold collation prepared for our reception. the same day we all dined at lisardo's; and a discussion upon the pleasures and comparative excellences of _music_ and _painting_ succeeded to the conversation which the foregoing pages have detailed. a small concert in the evening recreated the exhausted state of lysander's mimd [transcriber's note: mind]. the next day, my friends left me for their respective places of destination. lorenzo and his sisters were gathered round my outer gate; and lisardo leapt into the chaise with lysander and philemon; resolved to equal, if not eclipse, his bibliographical tutor in the ardour of book researches. "adieu," said lysander, putting his hand out of the chaise--"remember, in defence of my bibliomaniacal gossipping, that similis never knew happiness _till he became acquainted with_ books."[ ] the postillion smacked his whip; and the chaise, following the direction of the road to the left, quickly disappeared. the servant of lysander followed gently after, with his master's and philemon's horses: taking a near direction towards lysander's home. [footnote : 'it is reported that a certain man, of the name of similis, who fought under the emperor hadrian, became so wearied and disgusted with the number of troublesome events which he met with in that mode of life, that he retired and devoted himself wholly to leisure and _reading_, and to meditations upon divine and human affairs, after the manner of pythagoras. in this retirement, similis was wont frequently to exclaim that '_now_ he began to _live_:' at his death, he desired the following inscription to be placed upon his tomb. [greek: similis en tautha keitai bioue men etÊ ebdomÊkonta zÊsas de etÊ epta] _here lies similis; in the seventieth year of his age but only the seventh of his life._ this story is related by dion cassius; and from him told by spizelius in his _infelix literarius_; p. .] lorenzo and his sisters returned with me to the cabinet. a gloom was visible upon all our countenances; and the ladies confessed that the company and conversation of my departed guests, especially of lysander, were such as to leave a void which could not easily be supplied. for my part, from some little warmth each sister betrayed in balancing the solid instruction of lysander and the humorous vivacity of lisardo, against each other, i thought the former had made a powerful impression upon the mind of belinda, and the latter upon that of almansa: for when the probability of a speedy revisit from both of them was mentioned the sisters betrayed unusual marks of sensibility; and upon lorenzo's frankly confessing, though in a playful mood, that such brothers-in-law would make him "as happy as the day was long"--they both turned their faces towards the garden, and appeared as awkward as it was possible for well-bred ladies to appear. it was in vain that i turned to my library and opened a large paper, illustrated, copy of daulby's _catalogue of rembrandt's prints_, or mr. miller's new edition of the _memoirs of count grammont_, or even the _roman de la rose_, printed by galliot du pré, upon vellum.... nothing produced a kind look or a gracious word from them. silence, sorrow, and indifference, succeeded to loquacity, joy, and enthusiasm. i clearly perceived that some _other_ symptom, wholly different from any thing connected with the bibliomania, had taken possession of their gentle minds. but what has a bibliographical romance to do with _love_ and _marriage_? reader adieu!--when thou hast nothing better deserving of perusal before thee, take up these pages; and class the author of them, if thou wilt, with the bostons, or smiths, or norths, of "other times;" with those who have never wished to disturb the peaceful haunts of intellectual retirement; and whose estate, moreover, like joseph scaliger's, lies chiefly under his hat. [illustration] * * * * * p. . to the list of useful bibliographical works, published about the period here designated, i might have added the _lexicon literarium_ of theophilus georgius; _cum suppl. ad an._ . _leips._ - , folio; two thick and closely printed volumes, with an excellent chronological arrangement. it is not common in this country. p. . the abbé rive was also the author of-- . _notice d'un roman d'artus comte de bretagne_: paris, , to. _pp._ . . _etrennes aux joueurs de cartes, ou eclaircissemens historiques et critiques sur l'invention des cartes à jouer; paris_, , mo. _pp._ . these works are slightly commended in the "advertissement" to the vallière catalogue, , pp. xxv-vj. they are reviewed by a rival author. p. . since writing the first note, concerning the "_assertio septem sacramentorum_," &c., i have seen a magnificent copy of the same, printed upon vellum, in the library of earl spencer; which redeems the coldness of my opinion in regard to books printed by pynson upon vellum. the painted ornaments, in lord spencer's copy, were, in all probability, executed abroad. the art, in our own country, was then too rude for such elegance of decoration. p. . i was right in my prediction about these _garlands_ being swallowed up by some "hungry book-fish!" i saw them, a few days after, in the well-furnished library of atticus: who exhibited them to me in triumph--grasping the whole of them between his finger and thumb! they are marvellous well-looking little volumes--clean, bright, and "rejoicing to the eye!"--many of them, moreover, are first editions! the severest winter cannot tarnish the foliage of such "garlands!" p. . among the illustrated grangers i forgot to notice the ample and magnificent copies belonging to the marquis of bute and mr. john towneley. [illustration: dr. benjamin heath.] supplement. [illustration] the supplement. part i. the evening walk. the scenery and the dialogue of this part are more especially _waltonian_. the characters are few; but lysander must of necessity be the author--as he is the principal actor in the scene, and throughout the entire work the principal intelligence is derived from his lips. the scene itself is not absolutely ideal. at the little village of ----, upon the upper grounds, near marlow, and necessarily commanding a sweep of the thames in one of its most richly wooded windings, there lived a mr. jacobs, the friend of the adjoining rector, whose table was as bounteous as his heart was hospitable; and whose frequent custom it was, in summer months, to elicit sweet discourse from his guests, as they sauntered, after an early supper, to inhale the fragrance of "dewy eve," and to witness the ascendancy of the moon in a cool and cloudless sky. i have partaken more than once of these "tusculan" discussions; and have heard sounds, and witnessed happiness, such as is not likely to be my lot again. philemon is at rest in his grave, as well as menander and sicorax. the two latter, it is well known, were tom warton and joseph ritson. "the husband of poor lavinia" was a most amiable gentleman, but timid to a morbid excess. without strong powers of intellect, he was tenacious of every thing which he advanced, and yet the farthest possible from dogmatic rudeness. there are cankers that eat into the _heart_ as well as the cheek; and because mr. shacklewell (the nicas of my text) happened to discover a few unimportant errors in that husband's last performance, the latter not only thought much and often about it, but seemed to take it seriously to heart, and scarcely survived it a twelvemonth. gonzalo, mentioned at page , was a mr. jessop; an exceedingly lively, inoffensive, but not over wise gentleman; a coxcomb to excess in every thing; but not without vivacious parts, which occasionally pleased, from the _manner_ in which they were exhibited. of handsome person and fluent speech, he was generally acceptable to the fair sex; but he made no strong _individual_ impression, as he was known to use the same current phrases and current compliments to all. just possible it was that his personal attractions and ready utterance were beginning to strike a _root_ or two in some one female bosom; but it was impossible for these roots to penetrate deeply, and take an _exclusive_ hold. i believe mr. jessop quitted the neighbourhood of marlow shortly after the publication of the bibliomania, to return thither no more. alfonso was a mr. morell; a name well known in oxfordshire. he was always in the _same_ false position, from the beginning to the end; but i am not sure whether this be not better than a perpetually shifting false position. disguise it as you may, an obstinate man is preferable to a _trimmer_; be he a common man, or an uncommon man; a layman or a clergyman; "in crape," or "in lawn." the compliment paid by lysander (at pages , ) to dr. vincent, late dean of westminster, and head master of westminster school, were acknowledged by that venerable and most worthy, as well as erudite, character, in a letter to me, which i deemed it but an act of justice to its author to publish in the _bibliographical decameron_, vol. iii. p. . poor mr. barker (edmund henry), who is handsomely mentioned in the dean's letter, has very lately taken his departure from us, for _that_ quiet which he could not find upon earth. "take him for all in all" he was a very extraordinary man. irritable to excess; but ardent and ambitious in his literary career. his industry, when, as in former days, it was at its height, would have killed half the scholars of the time. how he attained his fiftieth year, may be deemed miraculous; considering upon what a tempestuous sea his vessel of life seemed to be embarked. latterly, he took to politics; when--"farewell the tranquil mind!" part ii. the cabinet. this portion of the "bibliomania," embracing about fourscore pages, contains a _précis_, or review of the more popular works, then extant, upon bibliography. it forms an immense mass of materials; which, if expanded in the ordinary form of publication, would alone make a volume. i have well nigh forgotten the names of some of the more ancient heroes of bibliographical renown, but still seem to cling with a natural fondness to those of gesner, morhof, maittaire, and fabricius: while labbe, lambecius, and montfauçon, le long, and baillet, even yet retain all their ancient respect and popularity. as no _fresh characters_ are introduced in this second part of the bibliomania, it may be permitted me to say a word or two upon the substance of the materials which it contains. the immense note upon the "_catalogue of libraries_," alphabetically arranged, from page to page , is now, necessarily, imperfect; from the number of libraries which have been subsequently sold or described. among the _latter_, i hope i may naturally, and justifiably, make mention of the bibliotheca spenceriana; or, a descriptive catalogue of the early printed books of the late george john earl spencer, k.g.; comprising, in the whole, seven volumes; with the addition of the cassano library, or books purchased of the duke of cassano, by the noble earl, when at naples, in the year . in the "_reminiscences of my literary life_," i have given a sort of graphic description of this extensive work, and of the circumstances attending its publication. _that_ work now rests upon its own particular, and, i will fearlessly add, solid, basis. for accuracy, learning, splendour, and almost interminable embellishment, it may seem at once to command the attention, and to challenge the commendation, of the most fastidious: but it is a flower which blooms more kindly in a foreign, than in its native, soil. it has obtained for me the notice and the applause of learned _foreigners_; and when i travelled abroad i received but too substantial proofs that what was slighted _here_ was appreciated in _foreign_ parts. our more popular reviews, which seem to thrive and fatten best upon lean fare, passed this magnificent work over in a sort of sly or sullen silence; and there is no record of its existence in those of our journals which affect to strike the key-note only of what is valuable in science, literature, and the fine arts. painful as it must ever be to my feelings to contrast the avidity of former purchasers to become possessed of it with the caprice and non-chalance which have marked the conduct of those possessors themselves, i will yet hope that, in the bosom of the successor to this matchless library--as well as to the name and fortunes of its late owner--there will ever remain but _one feeling_, such as no misconception and no casualty will serve to efface. it is pleasing, yea, soothing, 'midst the buffetting surges of later life, to be able to keep the anchor of one's vessel _well bit_ in the interstices of granite. much later than the publication last alluded to, were the sale catalogues of the libraries of sir mark masterman sykes, bart., deceased; the rev. henry drury; george hibbert, esq., deceased; and sir francis freeling, bart., deceased. they were all sold by mr. evans, of pall mall; as well indeed as was the library of the late duke of marlborough, when marquis of blandford. what books! and what prices! it should seem that "there were giants," both in purse and magnitude of metal, "in those days!" but a mighty "man in valour" has recently sprung up amongst us; who, spurning the acquisition of solitary _lots_, darts down upon a whole _library_, and bears it off "at one fell swoop." long life to the spirit which possesses him! it is almost a national redemption. part iii. the auction-room. we are here introduced into one of the most bustling and spirit-stirring portions of the whole work. it is full of characters--alas! now, with only _two_ exceptions, mouldering in their coffins! philemon (who was one of my earliest and steadiest friends) introduces us to a character, which, under the name of orlando, made some impression upon the public, as it was thought to represent michael wodhull, esq., of thenford hall, near banbury; an admirable greek scholar (the translator of euripides), and perhaps the most learned bibliographer of his age. the conjecture of orlando being the representative of mr. wodhull was not a vain conjecture; although there were, necessarily (i will not say _why_), parts that slightly varied from the original. mr. wodhull re-appears, in his natural person, in the _bibliographical decameron_, vol. iii. p. - . since the publication of that work, a curious history attaches to his memory. within a twelvemonth of the expiration of the statute of limitation, an action at law, in the shape of an ejectment, was set on foot by a neighbouring family, to dispossess the present rightful occupant, s.a. severne, esq., of the beautiful domain of thenford; to ransack the library; to scatter abroad pictures and curiosities of every description; on the alleged ground of insanity, or incompetency to make a will, on the part of mr. wodhull. as i had been very minute in the account of mr. wodhull's person, in the work just alluded to, i became a _witness_ in the cause; and, as it was brought into chancery, my deposition was accordingly taken. i could have neither reluctance nor disinclination to meet the call of my excellent friend, mr. severne; as i was abundantly confident that the charge of "incompetency to make a will" could not rest upon the slightest foundation. it was insinuated, indeed, that the sister-in-law, miss ingram, had forged mr. wodhull's name to the will. such a conspiracy, to defraud an honourable man and legitimate descendant of his property, is hardly upon record; for, waiting the accidents that might occur by death, or otherwise, in the lapse of twenty years, the cause was brought into the vice chancellor's court with the most sanguine hope of success. i was present during one of the days of argument, and heard my own letter read, of which i had (contrary to my usual habits) taken a copy. the plaintiffs had written to me (suppressing the fact of the intended action), requesting to have my opinion as to mr. wodhull's capability. i returned such an answer as truth dictated. the counsel for the plaintiffs (_ut mos est_) showered down upon the defendant every epithet connected with base fraud and low cunning, of which the contents of the brief seemed to warrant the avowal. in due course, sir knight bruce, now one of the supernumerary vice chancellors, rose to reply. his speech was one undisturbed stream of unclouded narrative and irresistible reasoning. the vice chancellor (shadwell) gave judgment; and my amiable and excellent friend, mr. severne, was not only to return in triumph to the mansion and to the groves which had been built and planted by his venerable ancestor, mr. wodhull, but he was strongly advised, by the incorruptible judge on the bench, to bring an action against the plaintiffs for one of the foulest conspiracies that had ever been developed in a court of justice. the defendant might have transported the whole kit of them. but the _giving_ advice, and the _following_ it when given, are two essentially different things. a thousand guineas had been already expended on the part of mr. severne! when does my lord brougham _really_ mean to reform the law? a recent publication ("cranmer, a novel") has said, "that he applies _sedatives_, when he should have recourse to _operations_." but the reader must now hurry with me into "the auction room." of the whole group there represented, full of life and of action, two only remain to talk of the conquests achieved![ ] and mr. hamper, too--whose note, at p. , is beyond all price--has been lately "gathered to his fathers." "ibimus, ibimus!" but for our book-heroes in the auction room. [footnote : before mention made of the auction room, there is a long and particular account of the "_lectionum memorabilium et reconditarum centenarii xvi._" by john wolf, in , folio; with a fac simile, by myself, of the portrait of the author. it had a great effect, at the time, in causing copies of this work to be sedulously sought for and sold at extravagant prices. i have known a fine copy of this ugly book bring £ _s._] the first in years, as well as in celebrity, is lepidus; the representative of the late rev. dr. gosset. in the _bibliographical decameron_, vol. iii. p. , ample mention is made of him; and here it is, to me, an equally grateful and delightful task to record the worth, as well as the existence, of his two sons, isaac and thomas, each a minister of the church of england. the former is covered with _olive branches_ as well as with reputation; while the latter, declining the "branches" in question, rests upon the stem of his own inflexible worth, and solid scholastic attainments. mrs. gardiner, the wife of a major gardiner, is the only daughter of dr. gosset; a wife, but not a mother. the second in the ranks is mustapha. every body quickly found out the original in mr. gardiner, a bookseller in pall mall; who quickly set about repelling the attack here made upon him, by a long note appended to the article "bibliomania," in one of his catalogues. gardiner never lacked courage; but, poor man! his brains were under no controul. we _met_ after this reply, and, to the best of my recollection, we exchanged ... _smiles_. the catalogue in question, not otherwise worth a stiver, has been sold as high as s., in consequence of the dibdinian flagellation. poor gardiner! his end was most deplorable. we approach bernardo, who was intended to represent the late mr. joseph haslewood; and of whose book-fame a very particular, and i would hope impartial, account will be found in the "_literary reminiscences of my literary life_." there is no one portion of that work which affords me more lively satisfaction on a re-perusal. the cause of the _individual_ was merged in the cause of _truth_. the strangest compound of the strangest materials that ever haunted a human brain, poor bernardo was, in spite of himself, a man of _note_ towards his latter days. every body wondered what was in him; but something, certainly worth the perusal; oozed out of him in his various motley performances; and especially in his edition of drunken barnaby's tour, which exhibited the rare spectacle of an accurate latin (as well as english) text, by an individual who did not know the dative singular from the dative plural of _hic, hæc, hoc_! haslewood, however, "hit the right nail upon the head" when he found out the _real_ author barnaby, in richard brathwait; from the unvarying designation of "_on the errata_," at the end of brathwait's pieces, which is observable in that of his "_drunken barnaby's tour_." it was an [greek: eurêcha] [transcriber's note: [greek: eurêka]] in its way; and the late mr. heber used to shout aloud, "stick to _that_, haslewood, and your fame is fixed!" he was always proud of it; but lost sight of it sadly, as well as of almost every thing else, when he composed "_the roxburghe revels_." yet what could justify the cruelty of dragging this piece of private absurdity before the public tribunal, on the death of its author? even in the grave our best friends may be our worst foes. at page we are introduced to quisquilius, the then intended representative of mr. george baker, of st. paul's churchyard; whose prints and graphic curiosities were sold after his death for several thousand pounds. mr. baker did not survive the publication of the bibliomania; but it is said he got scent of his delineated character, which ruffled every feather of his plumage. he was thin-skinned to excess; and, as far as that went, a _heautontomorumenos_! will this word "re-animate his clay?" the "short gentleman," called rosicrusius, at page , must necessarily be the author of the work. he has not grown _taller_ since its publication, and his coffers continue to retain the same stinted condition as his person. yet what has he not _produced_ since that representation of his person? how has it pleased a gracious providence to endow him with mental and bodily health and stamina, to prosecute labours, and to surmount difficulties, which might have broken the hearts, as well as the backs, of many a wight "from five to ten inches taller than himself!" i desire to be grateful for this prolongation of labour as well as of life; and it will be my heart-felt consolation, even to my dying hour, that such "labour" will be acceptable to the latest posterity. yet a word or two by way of epilogue. the "reminiscences" contain a catalogue raisonné of such works as were published up to the year . since then the author has not been idle. the "_tour into the north of england and scotland_," in two super-royal octavos, studded with graphic gems of a variety of description--and dedicated to the most illustrious female in europe, for the magnificence of a library, the fruit chiefly of her own enterprise and liberality--has at least proved and maintained the spirit by which he has been long actuated. to re-animate a slumbering taste, to bring back the gay and gallant feelings of past times, to make men feel as gentlemen in the substitution of _guineas_ for _shillings_, still to uphold the beauty of the press, and the splendour of marginal magnitude, were, alone, objects worthy an experiment to accomplish. but this work had other and stronger claims to public notice and patronage; and it did not fail to receive them. six hundred copies were irrevocably fixed in the course of the first eighteen months from the day of publication, and the price of the large paper has attained the sum of £ . _s._ strange circumstances have, however, here and there, thrown dark shadows across the progress of the sale. if it were pleasing to the author, in the course of his journey, to receive attentions, and to acknowledge hospitalities, from the gay and the great, it were yet more pleasing to hope and to believe that such attentions and hospitalities had been acknowledged with feelings and expressions becoming the character of a gentleman. they have been so; as the pages of the work abundantly testify. but english courtesy is too frequently _located_. it is a coin with a feeble impress, and seems subject to woful attrition in its circulation. the countenance, which beams with complacency on receiving a guest to enliven a dull residence, in a desolate neighbourhood, is oftentimes overcharged with sadness, or collapses into rigidity, if the same guest should come under recognizance in a populous city. when i write "instructions for an author on his travels," i will advise a measured civility and a constrained homage:--to criticise fearlessly, and to praise sparingly. there are hearts too obtuse for the operations of gratitude. the scotch have behaved worthy of the inhabitants of the "land of cakes." in spirit i am ever present with them, and rambling 'midst their mountains and passes. if an author may criticise his own works, i should say that the preface to the scotch tour is the best piece of composition of which i have been ever guilty. how little are people aware of the pleasure they sometimes unconsciously afford! when mr. james bohn, the publisher of the scotch tour, placed me, one day, accidentally, opposite a long list of splendidly bound books, and asked me "if i were acquainted with their author?" i could not help inwardly exclaiming ... "non omnis moriar!"[ ] i am too poor to present them to my "sovereign mistress, the queen victoria;" but i _did_ present her majesty, in person, with a magnificently bound copy of the _scotch tour_; of which the acceptance was never acknowledged from the royal quarter; simply because, according to an etiquette which seems to me to be utterly incomprehensible, books presented _in person_ are not acknowledged by the donee. i will not presume to quarrel with what i do not exactly understand; but i will be free to confess that, had i been _aware_ of this mystery, i should have told her majesty, on presenting the volume, that "i had the greater pleasure in making the offering, as her illustrious father had been among the earliest and warmest patrons of my book-career; and that the work in question contained no faithless account of one of the most interesting portions of her dominions." this copy for the queen had a special vellum page, on which the dedication, or inscription, was printed in letters of gold. [footnote : this magnificent set of books, not _all_ upon large paper, was valued at £ . it has been since sold to lord bradford.] at length we approach the once far-famed atticus: the once illustrious richard heber, esq., the self-ejected member of the university of oxford. even yet i scarcely know how to handle this subject, or to expatiate upon a theme so extraordinary, and so provocative of the most contradictory feelings. but it were better to be brief; as, in fact, a very long account of mr. heber's later life will be found in my _reminiscences_, and there is little to add to what those pages contain. it may be here only necessary to make mention of the sale of his wonderful library; wonderful in all respects--not less from the variety and importance of its contents, than from the unparalleled number of _duplicate volumes_--even of works of the first degree of rarity. of the latter, it may suffice to observe that, of the editio princeps of _plato_, there were not fewer than _ten_ copies; and of that of _aristotle_, five or six copies: each the production of the aldine press. several of these platonic copies were, to my knowledge, beautiful ones; and what more than _one_ such "beautiful copy" need mortal man desire to possess? i believe the copy of the plato bought at the sale of dr. heath's library in was, upon the whole, the most desirable.[ ] both works are from the press of the elder aldus. [footnote : the rt. hon. thomas grenville possesses a copy of this first edition (from the library of the rev. theodore williams) in an _uncut_ state. it may defy all competition. there is, however, in the spencer library, at althorp, described by me in the second volume of the bibliotheca _spenceriana_, a very beautiful copy, delicately ruled with red lines, which may be pronounced as almost in its primitive state. the leaves "discourse most eloquently" as you turn them over: and what sound, to the ears of a thorough bred bibliomaniac, can be more "musical?"] it may be observed, as mere preliminary matter, that it was once in contemplation to publish the literary life of mr. heber; and an impression comes across my mind that i had tendered my services for the labour in question. the plan was however abandoned--and perhaps wisely. there was also to have been a portrait prefixed, from the pencil of mr. masquerier, the _only_ portrait of him--in later life--but the strangest whims and vagaries attended the surrendering, or rather the _not_ surrendering, of the portrait in question. i am in possession of a correspondence upon this subject which is perfectly _sui generis_. the library of mr. heber was consigned to the care and discretion of messrs. payne and foss--booksellers of long established eminence and respectability. it was merely intended to be an alphabetical, sale catalogue, with no other bibliographical details than the scarcity or curiosity of the article warranted. it was also of importance to press the sale, or sales, with all convenient dispatch: but the mass of books was so enormous that two years ( - ) were consumed in the dispersion of them, at home; to say nothing of what was sold in flanders, at paris, and at neuremberg. i have of late been abundantly persuaded that the acquisition of books--anywhere, and of whatever kind--became an ungovernable passion with mr. heber; and that he was a bibliomaniac in its strict as well as enlarged sense. of his library at neuremberg he had never seen a volume; but he thought well of it, as it was the identical collection referred to by panzer, among his other authorities, in his typographical annals. of the amount of its produce, when sold, i am ignorant. i have said that the catalogue, which consisted of xii parts (exclusively of a portion of foreign books, which were sold by the late mr. wheatley) was intended merely to be a sale catalogue, without bibliographical remarks; but i must except parts ii, iv, and xi: the first of these containing the _drama_, the second the _english poetry_, and the third the _manuscripts_--which, comparatively, luxuriate in copious and apposite description. "si sic omnia!" but it were impracticable. i believe that the manuscript department, comprised in about articles, produced upwards of £ . it may not be amiss to subjoin the following programme. part. i. articles; sold by sotheby ii. ---- ditto iii. ---- ditto iv. ---- sold by evans v. ---- sold by wheatley vi. ---- sold by evans vii. ---- ditto viii. ---- ditto ix. ---- sold by sotheby x. ---- ditto xi. ---- sold by evans xii. ---- sold by wheatley from which it should seem, first that the total number of _articles_ was nearly _fifty three thousand_--a number that almost staggers belief; and places the collections of tom rawlinson and the earl of oxford at a very considerable distance behind; although the latter, for _condition_ (with one exception), has never been equalled, and perhaps will probably never be surpassed. secondly, if it be a _legitimate_ mode of computation--taking two books for each article, one with another, throughout the entire catalogue--it will follow that the entire library of mr. heber, in england, contained not fewer than _one hundred and five thousand volumes_. the _net_ amount of the sale of this unparalleled mass of books is said to have been £ , : a large sum, when the deductions from commissionship and the government-tax be taken into consideration.[ ] dr. harwood thought that the sale of askew library was a remarkable one, from its bringing a guinea per article--one with another--of the articles of which the library was composed. the _history_ of the heber sale might furnish materials for a little jocund volume, which can have nothing to do here; although there is more than _one_ party, mixed up with the tale, who will find anything but cause of _mirth_ in the recital. that such a monument, as this library, should have been suffered to crumble to pieces, without a syllable said of its owner, is, of all the marvellous occurrences in this marvellous world, one of the most marvellous: and to be deprecated to the latest hour. yet, who was surrounded by a larger troop of friends than the individual who raised the monument? [footnote : these deductions, united, are about per cent.: nearly £ , to be deducted from the gross proceeds.] one anecdote may be worth recording. the present venerable and deeply learned president of magdalen college, oxford, told me that, on casting up the number of odd--or appendant volumes, (as or more) to the several articles in the catalogue--he found it to amount to _four thousand_. now, primâ facie, it seems hardly credible that there should have been _such_ a number, in _such_ a library, not deserving of mention as distinct articles: but it must be taken into consideration that mr. heber bought _many_ lots for the sake of _one_ particular book: and, considering the enormous extent of his library, it is not a very violent supposition, or inference, that these volumes were scarcely deserving of a more particular notice. pontevallo was the late john dent, esq., whose library was sold in ; and of which library that of the late robert heathcote formed the basis. it contained much that was curious, scarce, and delectable; but the sale of it exhibited the first grand melancholy symptoms of the decay of the bibliomania. the sweynheym and pannartz livy of , upon vellum, was allowed to be knocked down for £ ! mr. evans, who had twice before sold that identical volume--first, in the sale of mr. edwards's library (see _bibliographical decameron_, vol. iii. p.--) and secondly in that of the late sir m.m. sykes, bart, (who had purchased the book for £ )--did all that human powers could do, to obtain a higher bidding--but messrs. payne and foss, with little more than the _breathing_ of competition, became the purchasers at the very moderate sum first mentioned. from them it seemed to glide naturally, as well as necessarily, into the matchless collection of the rt. hon. thomas grenville. i yet seem to hear the echo of the clapping of sir m.m. sykes's hands, when i was the herald of the intelligence of his having become the purchaser! these echoes have all died away _now_: unless indeed they are likely to be revived by a holford or a bottfield. hortensius was the late sir william bolland, knt.: and, a few years before his death, one of the barons of his majesty's exchequer. he died in his th year. he was an admirable man in all respects. i leave those who composed the domestic circle of which he was the delightful focus, to expatiate upon that worth and excellence of which they were the constant witnesses and participators-- "he best shall _paint_ them who shall _feel_ them most." to me, the humbler task is assigned of recording what is only more particularly connected with books and virtu. and yet i may, not very inappositely, make a previous remark. on obtaining a seat upon the bench, the first circuit assigned to him was that of "the oxford." it proved to be heavy in the criminal calendar: and mr. baron bolland had to pass sentence of death upon three criminals. a maiden circuit is rarely so marked; and i have reason to believe that the humane and warm-hearted feelings of the judge were never before, or afterwards, subjected to so severe a trial. it was a bitter and severe struggle with all the kindlier feelings of his heart. but our theme is books. his library was sold by public auction, under mr. evans's hammer, in the autumn of . one anecdote, connected with his books, is worth recording. in my decameron, vol. iii. p. , mention will be found of a bundle of poetical tracts, belonging to the chapter-library at lincoln, round which, on my second visit to that library, i had, in imitation of captain cox (see page -- ante), entwined some whip-cord around them--setting them apart for the consideration of the dean and chapter, whether a _second_ time, i might not become a purchaser of some of their book-treasures? i had valued them at fourscore guineas. the books in question will be found mentioned in a note at page of the third volume of the bibliographical decameron. i had observed as follows in the work just referred to, "what would hortensius say to the gathering of such flowers, to add to the previously collected _lincoln nosegay_?" the reader will judge of my mingled pleasure and surprise (dashed however with a few grains of disappointment on not becoming the proprietor of them _myself_) when the baron, one day, after dining with him, led me to his book-case, and pointing to these precious tomes, asked me if i had ever seen them _before_? for a little moment i felt the "obstupui" of Æneas. "how is this?" exclaimed i. "the secret is in the vault of the capulets"--replied my friend--and it never escaped him. "those are the identical books mentioned in your decameron." not many years afterwards i learnt from the late benjamin wheatley that _he_ had procured them on a late visit to lincoln; and that _my_ price, affixed, was taken as their just value. of these linclonian [transcriber's note: lincolnian] treasures, one volume alone--the rape of lucrece--brought one hundred guineas at the sale of the judge's library, beginning on the th of november, . see no. ; where it should seem that only four other perfect copies are known. the library of the late mr. baron bolland, consisting of articles, brought a trifle _more_ than a guinea per article. it was choice, curious, and instructively miscellaneous. its owner was a man of taste as well as a scholar; and the crabbed niceties of his profession had neither chilled his heart nor clouded his judgment. he revelled in his small cabinet of english coins; which he placed, and almost worshipped, among his fire-side lares. they were, the greater part of them, of precious die--in primitive lustre; and he handled them, and expatiated on them, with the enthusiasm of a snelling, and the science of a foulkes. his walls were covered with modern pictures, attractive from historical or tasteful associations. there was nothing but what seemed to "point a moral, or adorn a tale." his passion for books was of the largest scale and dimensions, and marked by every species of almost enviable enthusiasm. his anecdotes, engrafted on them, were racy and sparkling; and i am not quite sure whether it was not in contemplation by him to build a small "_oratoire_" to the memories of caxton and wynkyn de worde. he considered the folios of the latter, in the fifteenth century, to be miracles of typographical execution; and, being a poet himself, would have been in veritable ecstacies had he lived to see the unique chaucer of , which it was my good luck to obtain for the library of the rt. hon. thomas grenville. i will add but a few specimens of his library-- no. £ _s._ _d._ armony of byrdes, printed by wyght. mo., a poem, in six line stanzas. mr. heber's copy. a little volume of indescribable rarity arnold's chronicle, to., printed at antwerp, by doesborch ( )? boccus and sydracke, printed by godfray, at the wits and charge of robert saltousde, monke of canterbury, to. cicero de officiis, ulric zel chaucer's troylus and cresseyde, printed by pynson. ( .) folio. this volume had been successively in the libraries of hubert, the duke of roxburghe, and mr. herbert. it was in parts imperfect marston's scourge of villanie. ( .) mo. first edition: of terrific rarity glanville, de proprietatibus rerum. printed by w. de worde. folio holland's heroologia anglica. ( .) folio. so tall a copy that it had the appearance of large paper shakspeare's venus and adonis. ( .) mo. third edition shakspeare's lucrece. first edition. . quarto (this was the lincoln-chapter copy.) the entire produce of the sale was £ . ulpian, the associate of hortensius, was, and _is_ (i rejoice to add) a barrister-at-law, and one of the six clerks in chancery. in the _decameron_, vol. iii. p. --, he appears under the more euphonous as well as genial name of palmerin: but the "hermitage" there described has been long deserted by its master and mistress--who have transferred their treasures and curiosities to the sea-girt village, or rather town, of ryde and its vicinity: where stained-glass windows and velvet bound tomes are seen to yet greater advantage. leontes, mentioned at page , was the late james bindley, esq.--of whom a few interesting particulars will be found in the third volume of my _bibliographical decameron_. he died before the publication of this latter work. sir tristrem was the late sir walter scott--then in the effulgence of poetical renown! prospero was the late francis douce, esq. my reminiscences make copious mention of these celebrated characters. aurelius was intended as the representative of the late george chalmers, esq.--the most learned and the most celebrated of all the antiquarians and historians of scotland. his caledonia is a triumphant proof of his giant-powers. never before did an author encounter such vast and various difficulties: never was such thick darkness so satisfactorily dispersed. it is a marvellous work, in four large quarto volumes; but so indifferently printed, and upon such wretched paper, that within the next century, perhaps, not six copies of it will be found entire. the less laborious works of mr. chalmers were statistical and philological. of the latter, his tracts relating to _shakspeare_, and his life of _mary queen of scots_ may be considered the principal. on the death of mr. george chalmers in , his nephew became possessed of his library; and on the death of the nephew, in , it was placed by the executors in the hands of mr. evans, who brought the first part to sale on the th of september, . it consisted of articles, and produced the sum of £ . the second part was brought to the same hammer, on february , , and produced the sum of £ _s._ _d._ it is on the _latter_ part that i am disposed to dwell more particularly, because it was so eminently rich in shakspearian lore; and because, at this present moment, the name of our immortal dramatist seems to be invested with a fresh halo of incomparable lustre. the first edition of his smaller works has acquired most extraordinary worth in the book-market. the second part of mr. chalmers's collection shews that the _sonnets_ of produced a hundred guineas; while the _rape of lucrece_ (which, perhaps, no human being has ever had the perseverance to read through) produced £ in a preceding sale: see page . the _venus and adonis_ has kept close pace with its companions. we may now revel among the rarities of the first part of this extraordinary collection-- no. £ _s._ _d._ bale's comedy concernynge thre lawes of nature, moses and christ, corrupted by the sodomytes, pharisees and papystes most wicked, wants the title, first edition, curious portrait of the author, excessively rare. inprented per nicholaum bamburgensem, wilkins' concilia magnæ britanniæ et hiberniæ, vols. . folio [such a price is one among the few _harmless_ fruits of the puseian controversy!] churchyard's worthiness of wales, first edition, very rare, . quarto [in my earlier days of book-collecting, i obtained a copy of this most rare volume, in an _uncut state_, from a mr. keene, of hammersmith, who asked me "if i thought _half-a-guinea_ an extravagant price for it?" i unhesitatingly replied in the negative. not long after, the late mr. sancho, who succeeded mr. payne, at the mews gate, went on his knees to me, to purchase it for _two guineas_! his attitude was too humble and the tone of his voice too supplicatory to be resisted. he disposed of it to his patron-friend, the hon. s. elliott, for five pounds five shillings. mr. elliott had a very choice library; and was himself a most amiable and incomparable man. it is some twenty-five years since i first saw him at the late earl spencer's, at althorp.] churchyard. the firste of churchyardes chippes, containinge twelue seuerall labours, green morocco, gilt leaves, the second part of churchyard's chips was never published. churchyard's generall rehearsall of warres, called churchyardes choise, imprinted by white, the latter part of this work is in verse, and some have supposed that churchyard intended it to form the second part of his chips. gascoyne's delicate diet for daintie mouthde droonkardes, excessively rare; only one other copy known, namely, that which was in the libraries of g. steevens and r. heber.--see heber's catalogue, part iv. no. . imprinted by johnes, ---- wolsey's grammar. rudimenta grammatices et docendi methodus scholæ gypsuichianæ per thomam cardinalem ebor, institutam, &c., rare, antv. the preface, containing directions for the conduct of the school, is written by cardinal wolsey. the grammar is by dean colet and lilly. the complete history of cornwall, part ii., being the parochial history, (by william hals,) extremely rare this is one of the rarest books in the class of british topography. the first part was never printed, it has therefore no general title. a copy is in the library of the right hon. thomas grenville. patrick hannay's nightingale, sheretine, happy husband, songs, sonnets, &c., with the frontispiece, including the extremely rare portrait of patrick hannay, an excessively rare volume when perfect, we believe only one other perfect copy is known, that which was successively in the libraries of bindley, perry, sykes, and rice. no poetical volume in the libraries of these celebrated collectors excited a more lively interest, or a keener competition. this was obtained by mr. chalmers at pinkerton's sale in . the portrait of hannay is a great desideratum to the granger collectors. hutton's (henry dunelmensis) follic's anatomie, or satyrs and satyricall epigrams, . mo. de foe. review of the affairs of france and of all europe, as influenced by that nation, with historical observations on public affairs, and an entertaining part in every sheet (by defoe), vols., excessively rare. the most perfect copy known, this is the great desideratum of all the collectors of de foe's works. it is the most perfect copy known; that which approaches it the nearest is the copy in the british museum; but that only extends to vols. cronycle of englonde wyth the frute of tymes, compyled by one somtyme mayster of saynt albons. newly enprynted by wynkyn de worde, . the descrypcyon of englonde (in prose), also the descrypcyon of the londe of wales, in verse, emprynted by me wynkyn de worde, , vols. in . the first editions by wynkyn de worde, extremely rare fulwell's (ulpian) flower of fame, containing the bright renowne and most fortunate raigne of king henry viii., wherein is mentioned of matters, by the rest of our cronographers ouerpassed, in verse and prose, extremely rare, imprinted by hoskins, see an account of this very curious work in the censura literaria, vol. , p. to , written by gilchrist. it was described from the late mr. neunberg's copy, which was sold for £ . _s._ fulwell (ulpian). the first parte of the eighth liberall science: entituled ars adulandi, the arte of flatterie, first edition, excessively rare, title mended, a piece wanting in the centre. to. imprinted by jones, (marlowe) the true tragedie of richarde duke of yorke, and the death of good king henrie the sixt, with the whole contention betweene the two houses lancaster and yorke, as it was sundrie times acted by the right honourable the earle of pembroke, his servants, first edition, excessively rare, and believed to be unique, very fine copy, printed at london by p.s. . to. [i refer with pleasure to mr. evans' long, learned, and satisfactory note upon this most precious volume; which i had the satisfaction of seeing in the bodleian library, for which it was purchased by mr. rodd, the bookseller.] greene in conceipt. new raised from his grave to write the tragique history of faire valeria of london, by j. d(ickenson), very rare. to. hake, of gold's kingdom, described in sundry poems, , mo. hakluyt. divers voyages touching the discoverie of america, and the islands adjacent unto the same, made first of all by our englishmen, and afterwards by the frenchmen and britons, with both the maps, excessively rare, only one other copy known to contain the two maps. imprinted by woodcocke, . to. hogarde (myles) "a mirrour of loue, which such light doth giue, that all men may learne, how to loue and liue." imprinted by caly, . part ii. fraunce's (abraham) lamentations of amintas for the death of phillis, a poem; excessively rare fyssher's (jhon, student of oxford) poems written in dialogue, wants the title and part of a leaf, extremely rare. imprinted by john tisdale, gascoigne's whole woorkes, with the comedy of supposes and the steele glasse, best edition, very fine copy, in russia. imprinted by jesse, at the end of the volume there is a tract by gascoigne, entitled "certain notes of instruction concerning the making of verses, or rimes, in english." the tract is not mentioned in the list of contents on the title, and the four leaves very rarely occur. marshall's (george) compendious treatise, in metre, declaring the firste originall of sacrifice, and of the buylding of aultars and churches, a poem, extremely rare. cawood, harvey's (gabriel) foure letters and certaine sonnets, especially touching robert greene and other parties by him abused. printed by wolfe, gabriel harvey was the intimate friend of spenser. the immediate occasion of harvey's writing these letters was to resent greene's attack on his father; but the permanent value of the volume is the very interesting notices harvey gives of his literary contemporaries. the work concludes with a sonnet of spenser, addressed to harvey. meeting of gallants at an ordinarie, or the walkes of powles, very scarce, . mo. this scarce and curious little volume is not mentioned by lowndes. the work commences with a poetical dialogue between warre, famine, and pestilence. the tales of my landlord then follow, "where the fatte host telles tales at the upper ende of the table." mine host, however, does not have all the conversation to himself. the guests take a very fair share. one of the interlocutors, gingle-spur, alludes to one of shakspeare's plays. "this was a prettie comedy of errors, my round host." [i shall place all the shakspearian articles consecutively; that the reader may observe in what a rapid ratio their pecuniary value has increased. of the sonnets, the right hon. thomas grenville possesses one copy, and thomas jolley, esq., another. the history of the acquisition of the _latter_ copy is one of singular interest; almost sufficient to add _another_ day to a bibliographical decameron. this copy is in pristine condition, and looks as if snatched from the press. mr. jolley also possesses a very fine and perfect copy of the first edition of shakspeare's works, in folio; but a similar copy, in the library of the right honourable thomas grenville, will, perhaps, always continue unrivalled.] shakspeare's venus and adonis; unique. edinburgh, by john writtoun, and are to bee sold in his shop, a little beneath the salt trone, we are always extremely cautious in using the designation unique; but we think we may safely do so upon the present occasion. we have made very extensive inquiries on the subject, and have recently written to david laing, esq., keeper of the library of the writers to the signet, from whom we have received a confirmation of our belief. beloe, in describing this copy, says "it must be considered as an indubitable proof that at a very early period the scotch knew, and admired, the genius of shakspeare." he might have continued, its proceeding from the press of writtoun, was an additional proof, as he only published small popular tracts. beloe has erroneously given the date , and lowndes has copied his error. the first books printed by writtoun were about . his will is printed in the bannatyne miscellany. the second edition of this precious poem, printed in , produced the sum of £ , at the sale of baron bolland's library: see page , ante. [transcriber's note: ] shakespeare's comedies, tragedies, and histories, first edition. the title a reprint, but the portrait original. with the verses of ben jonson, original, but inlaid, blue morocco, shake-speares sonnets, neuer before imprinted, extremely rare, most beautiful copy, in russia. london, by g. eld for t.t. and are to be solde by william apsley, shakspeare's most excellent historie of the merchant of venice, with the extreame crueltie of shylock the jew, first edition, extremely rare, printed by j. r(oberts) for thomas heyes, another copy, second edition, very scarce, printed by j. roberts, another copy, shakspeare's midsommer nights dreame, second edition, printed by james roberts, shakspeare's most lamentable tragedie of titus andronicus, second edition, very scarce, only one perfect copy of the first edition is known. shakspeare, his true chronicle history of the life and death of king lear and his three daughters, second edition, printed for n. butter, shakspeare's famous historie of troylus and cresseid, with the conceited wooing of pandoras prince of licia, first edition, extremely rare, imprinted by g. eld, shakspeare's richard the second, with new additions of the parliament scene, and the deposing of king richard [there were many other early editions of the plays of shakspeare, but the preceding were the most prominent.] ovid. the flores of ouide de arte amandi, with their englysshe afore them and two alphabete tablys, extremely rare, very fine copy wynandus de worde, [this edition was wholly unknown to me.] newton's (t.) atropeion delion, or the death of delia, (queen elizabeth) with the teares of her funerall, very scarce, hilarie (hughe) the resurrection of the masse, with the wonderful vertues of the same, a poem, excessively rare, imprinted at strasburgh in elsas, this is a very bitter satire on the ceremonies, doctrines, and ministers of the roman catholic church. skelton. here after foloweth certaine bokes complyed by mayster skelt[=o], poet laureat, speake parot, ware the hawke, tunnynge of eleanoure rummyne, &c., imprinted by kynge and marche. here after foloweth a little boke called colyn clout, by master skelton poete laureate, imprynted by veale. here after foloweth a little boke, why come ye not to courte, by mayster skelton, poet laureate. this is skelton's celebrated satire against cardinal wolsey, imprinted by veale. a little boke of philip sparow, by mayster skelton, poete laureate, imprinted by walley--a very curious collection of poems by skelton, each very rare, in bussia [transcriber's note: russia] in d'israeli's recent work, the amenities of literature, there is an excellent article upon skelton, which contains many acute and original observations. speaking of the skeltonical verse, d'israeli says, "in the quick-returning rhymes, the playfulness of the diction, and the pungency of new words, usually ludicrous, often expressive, and sometimes felicitous, there is a stirring spirit, which will be best felt in an audible reading. the velocity of his verse has a carol of its own. the chimes ring in the ear, and the thoughts are flung about like wild coruscations." see vol. , p. to . octavo. pierce plowman. newes from the north, otherwise called the conference between simon certain and pierce plowman, faithfully collected by t.f. student, extremely rare. e. allde, s. (r.) the phoenix nest, built up with the most rare and refined workes of noblemen, woorthy knightes, gallant gentlemen, masters of arts and braue schollers, full of varietie, excellent invention and singular delight, never before this time published, set foorth by r.s. of the inner temple, gentleman, excessively rare. imprinted by john jackson, mr. heber had written in his copy, "mr. malone has a copy bought at dr. farmer's sale, (now in the bodleian library,) but i know of no other." we may add, those two copies, and the present, are the only perfect copies known. sidney's (sir phillip) apologie for poetrie, first edition, excessively rare. printed for henry olney, "foure sonnets written by henrie constable to sir philip sidneys soule" are prefixed. these have not been reprinted in the subsequent editions. only three other copies of the first edition of this elegant and valuable treatise are known. one of which is in the british museum, and one in the bridgewater library. the third part of mr. chalmers's library--abundantly rich in scotch literature, and containing much valuable illustration of the history of printing in scotland, will probably quickly succeed the publication of this work. mr. chalmers had frequently expressed to me his intention as well as inclination to give a complete history of the scotish press; and if the materials collected by him find their way into his native country, it is to be hoped that some enterprising spirit, like that which animates the present librarian of the signet library, will find sufficient encouragement to bring them before the public. i bargain for a _quarto_. menalcas (whose fame expands more largely in the _bibliographical decameron_ and _reminiscences_) was my old and "very singular good friend" the rev. henry joseph thomas drury, rector of fingest, and second master of harrow school; second, because he declined to become the _first_. his library, so rich and rare in classical lore--manuscript as well as printed--was sold by mr. evans in . the catalogue contained not fewer than articles. the bindings, chiefly in lewisian calf and morocco, were "de toute beauté;" and the "oblong cabinet" sparkled as the setting sun shot its slanting rays down the backs of the tomes. of this catalogue there were copies only printed upon writing paper, for presents. this library was strikingly illustrative of the character of its late owner; for it is little more than a twelvemonth since he has been called away from that numerous and endearing circle, in the midst of which i saw him sitting, about a twelvemonth before his departure--the happiest of the happy--on the day of the nuptials of his youngest daughter but one, with captain beavan. his books were in fine condition throughout--gaily attired in appropriate bindings of calf or morocco, as the character and condition might be. his love of old classical _manuscripts_ was properly and greatly beyond that of printed books: but each class was so marked and identified by his calligraphical ms. notes, that you were in a moment convinced his books were not purchased for the mere sake of gorgeous furniture. so entirely were his classical feelings mixed up with his library, that he prefixed, over the entrance door of his oblong cabinet, in printed letters of gold, the following lines--of which the version is supplied from the "_arundines cami_," edited by his eldest son, the rev. henry drury. in musei mei aditu. pontificum videas penetralibus eruta lapsis antiquas monachum vellera passa manus, et veteres puncto sine divisore papyros, quæque fremit monstris litera picta suis: Ætatis decimæ spectes industria quintæ: quam pulcra archetypos imprimat arte duces aldinas ædes ineuns et limina juntÆ quosque suos stephanus vellet habere lares. h.i.t.d. over the threshold of my library. from mouldering abbey's dark scriptorium brought, see vellum tomes by monkish labour wrought; nor yet the comma born, papyri see, and uncial letters wizard grammary; view my _fifteeners_ in their rugged line; what ink! what linen! only known long syne-- entering where aldus might have fixed his throne, or harry stephens covetted his own. h.d. they were part and parcel of the _owner_ himself. his mind was traceable in many a fly leaf. his latinity was perspicuity and accuracy itself. he was, in all respects, a ripe and a good scholar; and the late provost of eton (the rev. dr. goodall) told me, on an occasion which has been, perhaps, too _emphasised_ in certain bibliographical pages,[ ] that "england could not then produce a better greek metrical scholar than his friend henry drury." what was remarkable, he never assumed an _ex cathedrâ_ position in society. in bringing forward or pressing quotations, whatever fell from him, came easily and naturally, but rarely. accustomed for many years to be the favourite of the _harrovians_, he never affected the airs of the pedagogue. how he _could_ criticise, sufficiently appears in an article on the _musæ edinburgenses_ in an early number of the quarterly review. [footnote : _bibliographical decameron._ dr. goodall always appeared to me to _affect_ irascibility upon the subject alluded to. the contents might have been published at charing cross.] yet this may be considered secondary matter; and i hasten to record the qualities of his heart and disposition. they were truly christian-like; inasmuch as a fond and large spirit of benevolence was always beating in his bosom, and mantling over a countenance of singular friendliness of expression. he had the _power_ of saying sharp and caustic things, but he used his "giant-strength" with the gentleness of a child. his letters, of which many hundreds have fallen to my lot, are a perfect reflex of his joyous and elastic mind. there was not a pupil under his care who looked forward to a _holiday_ with more unqualified delight than _he_; and when we strayed together beneath, or upon the heights of, the dover cliffs (where i _last_ saw him, in the summer of ) he would expatiate, with equal warmth and felicity, upon the abbey of st. rhadagund, and the keep of dover castle. our visit to barfreston church, in the neighbourhood, can never be effaced from my mind. his mental enthusiasm and bodily activity could not have been exceeded by that of the captain of harrow school. he took up my meditated "history of the dover" as if it were his own work; and his success, in cause of subscription, in most instances, was complete. and now, after an intimacy (minutely recorded in my _reminiscences_) of thirty-three years, it has pleased god to deprive me of his genial and heart-stirring society. his last moments were of those of a christian--"rooted and built up" in that belief, which alone sustains us in the struggle of parting from those whom we cherish as the most idolised objects upon earth! it was towards sun-set that i first paused upon his tomb, in the church-yard, near the summit of harrow hill. for a few moments i was breathless--but _not_ from the steepness of the ascent. the inscription, i would submit, is too much in the "minor key." it was the production of his eldest son, who preferred to err from under-rating, rather than over-rating, the good qualities of his parent. for myself-- "as those we love decay, we die in part; string after string is severed from the heart!" &c. &c. &c. thomson. on the death of mr. drury, his small library, the remains of his former one, was sold by auction; and those classical books, interleaved, and enriched with his manuscript notes, brought large prices. one manuscript, of especial celebrity--_childe harold_--given him by the author, his pupil, lord byron--became the property of its publisher, mr. murray; who purchased it upon terms at once marking his high sense of the talents of the author, and his respect for the family where it had been placed. it may be doubtful whether the autograph of any poem, since paradise lost, would have obtained a larger sum--had it been submitted to public sale. rinaldo.--rinaldo was the late mr. edwards; of the sale of whose library an extended account will be found in my decameron. it remains, briefly, but emphatically, to remark, that of all the book heroes, whose valorous achievements are here recorded, two only have survived the lapse of thirty years. let _half_ of another similar course of time roll on, and where will the survivors be? if not at rest in their graves, they will in all probability be "sans teeth, sans eyes, sans everything:"--at least, very far beyond "the lean and slippered pantaloon." leaving my surviving friends to fight their own battles, i think i may here venture to say, in quiet simplicity and singleness of heart, that books, book-sales, and book-men, will then--if i am spared--pass before me as the faint reflex of "the light of other days!" ... when literary enterprise and literary fame found a proportionate reward; and when the sickly sentimentality of the novelist had not usurped the post of the instructive philologist. but enough of rosicrusis. [illustration: constantia labore et] part iv. the library. this part embraces the _history of literature_, in the formation of libraries, from the conquest to the commencement of the reign of henry viii., and undoubtedly contains much that is curious and instructive. two new characters only are introduced: lorenzo and narcottus. the former was intended to represent the late sir masterman mark sykes, bart.: the latter, a william templeman, esq., of hare hatch, berkshire. sir mark sykes was not less known than respected for the suavity of his manners, the kindness of his disposition, and the liberality of his conduct on all matters connected with _books_ and _prints_. a long and particular account of his library, and of many of his book-purchases, will be seen in the third volume of the _bibliographical decameron_; and at pages , of my _literary reminiscences_. his library and his prints brought, each, pretty much the same sum: together, £ , --an astounding result! sir mark is the last great bibliomaniacal sun that has shed its golden, as well as parting, rays, upon a terribly chap-fallen british public! mr. templeman, represented as narcottus, was a great chess-player: and although caxton's "game at chess" is a mere dull morality, having nothing to do with the game strictly so called, yet he would have everything in his library where the word "chess" was introduced. in the words of the old catch, he would "add the night unto the day" in the prosecution of his darling recreation, and boasted of having once given a signal defeat to the rev. mr. bowdler, after having been defeated himself by lord henry seymour, the renowned chess-champions of the isle of wight. he said he once sat upon phillidor's knee, who patted his cheek, and told him "there was nothing like chess and english roast beef." the notice of poor george faulkner at page --one of the more celebrated book-binders of the day, is amplified at page of the second volume of the decameron; where the painful circumstances attending his death are slightly mentioned. he yet lives, and lives strongly, in my remembrance. since then, indeed within a very few years, the famous charles lewis--of whose bibliopegistic renown the decameronic pages have expatiated fully--has ceased to be. he was carried off suddenly by an apoplectic seizure. his eldest son--a sort of "spes altera romæ," in his way--very quickly followed the fate of his father. the name of lewis will be always held high in the estimation of bibliopegistic virtuosi. but the art of book-binding is not deteriorating: and i am not sure whether john clarke, of frith street, soho, be not as "mighty a man" in his way as any of his predecessors. there is a solidity, strength, and squareness of workmanship about his books, which seem to convince you that they may be tossed from the summit of snowdon to that of cader idris without detriment or serious injury. his gilding is first rate; both for choice of ornament and splendour of gold. nor is his coadjutor, william bedford, of less potent renown. he was the great adjunct of the late charles lewis--and imbibes the same taste and the same spirit of perseverance. accident brought me one morning in contact with a set of the new dugdale's monasticon, bound in blue morocco, and most gorgeously bound and gilded, lying upon the table of mr. james bohn--a mountain of bibliopegistic grandeur! a sort of irrepressible awe kept you back even from turning over the coats or covers! and what a work--deserving of pearls and precious stones in its outward garniture! "who was the happy man to accomplish such a piece of binding?"[ ] observed i. "who but john clarke?"--replied the bibliopole. [footnote : good binding--even roger-payne-binding--is gadding abroad every where. at oxford, they have "a spirit" of this description who loses a night's rest if he haplessly shave off the sixteenth part of an inch of a rough edge of an uncut hearne. my friend, dr. bliss, has placed volumes before me, from the same mintage, which have staggered belief as an indigenous production of academic soil. at reading, also, some splendid leaves are taken from the same _book_. mr. snare, the publisher, keeps one of the most talented bookbinders in the kingdom--from the school of clarke; and feeds him upon something more substantial than rose leaves and jessamine blossoms. he is a great man for a halequin's jacket: and would have gone crazy at the sight of some of the specimens at strawberry hill. no man can put a varied-coloured morocco coat upon the back of a book with greater care, taste, and success, than our reading bibliopegist.] part v. the drawing-room. this part is a copious continuation of the history of book collectors and collections up to the year . there is nothing to add in the way of character; and the subject itself is amply continued in the tenth day of the _bibliographical decameron_. in both works will be found, it is presumed, a fund of information and amusement, so that the reader will scarcely demand an extension of the subject. indeed, a little volume would hardly suffice to render it the justice which it merits; but i am bound to make special mention of the untameable perseverance, and highly refined taste, of b.g. windus, esq., one of my earliest and steadiest supporters; and yet, doth he not rather take up a sitting in the alcove--amongst _illustrators of fine works_? [illustration: the cave of despair. _drawn by j. thurston.--engraved by robert branston._] part vi. the alcove. a word only:--and that respecting _illustrated copies_. leaving mr. windus in full possession of his raphael morghens, william woollets, william sharpes, &c.--and allowing him the undisturbed relish of gazing upon, and pressing to his heart's core, his _grey_ turners--let me only introduce to the reader's critical attention and admiration the opposite subject, executed by the late mr. branston, and exhibiting _the cave of despair_ from spenser's fairy queen. the figures were drawn on the blocks by the late j. thurston, esq. =illustrated copies.= under the _illustration_-symptom of bibliomania, a fund of amusing anecdote, as well as of instructive detail, presents itself. we may travel in a carriage and four--from morn 'till night--and sweep county after county, in pursuit of all that is exquisite, and rare, and precious, and unattainable in other quarters: but i doubt if our horses' heads can be turned in a direction better calculated to answer all the ends in view than in front of [illustration: ravensbury lodge, lower mitcham,] the residence of the late proprietor of this work. there we once beheld such a copy of the best of all existing _encyclopædias_--that of the late dr. rees--as is no where else to be found. it was upon _large_ and _fine_ paper--bound in fourscore volumes--with separately executed title pages, in a style of pure art--and _illustrated_ with not fewer than ten thousand extra plates. the reader may, and will, naturally enough, judge of the wide, if not boundless, field for illustration--comprehending in fact (as the title of the work denounces) the circle of all knowledge, arts and sciences; but he can have no idea of the _manner_ in which this fertile and illimitable field is filled up, till he gazes upon the copy in question. here then was not only a _reading_, but a _graphic_, library in itself. whatever other works _profusely_ dilate upon was here _concentrated_--and deeply impressed upon the mind by the charm, as well as the intelligence, of graphical ornament. you seemed to want nothing, as, upon the turning over of every leaf, the prodigality of art ennobled, while it adorned, the solidity of the text. you have kept your horses already waiting three hours--and they are neighing and snorting for food: and you must turn them into the stable for suitable provender--for the owner of this production would tell you that you had scarcely traversed through one-third of the contents of the volumes. he orders an additional fowl to be placed on the spit, and an extra flagon of combe and delafield's brightest ale to be forth-coming: while his orchard supplies the requisite addenda of mulberries, pears, and apples, to flank the veritable lafitte. you drink and are merry. then comes the argand lamp; and down with the encyclopedistic volumes. the plates look brighter and more beautiful. there is no end of them--nor limits to your admiration. be it summer or winter, there is food for sustenance, and for the gratification of the most exquisite palate. to contemplate such a performance, the thorough-bred book-votary would travel by torch-light through forty-eight hours of successive darkness!...: but the horses are again neighing--for their homes. you must rouse the slumbering post-boy: for "the bell of the church-clock strikes one." * * * * * p.s.--the late mr. walmsley--who employed me to print this present edition--narrowly watched all our movements, and was much gratified by the appearance of the work, so far as it had gone before his death--frequently urged me to append a short account of the progress of our art during the last thirty years--i.e. since the publication of the former edition of _bibliomania_. the subject is too diffuse for a mere note: and during the life-time of so many able printers as now exercise their calling in the metropolis, it would be invidious to particularize eminence in our profession (whereas among our immediate predecessors it is, perhaps just to say that there were only _two_ printers of great celebrity, the late _mr. bulmer_ and my late father). i shall therefore merely mention some events which have had such influence on our art as that the case is now very different to what it was thirty years ago, when the good execution of printing at once testified to the skill and industry of the printer--as he could command neither good _presses_, _types_, nor _ink_, &c.--paper being then almost the only matter to be had in perfection. we have _now_ excellent and powerful iron presses--stanhopes, columbians, imperials, &c. _then_ the celebrated specimens of typography were produced by _miserable_ wooden presses. we have _now_ ink of splendid lustre, at a fourth of the cost of fabrication _then_--for both mr. bulmer and my father were perpetually trying expensive experiments--and not always succeeding: our ink is now to be depended on for _standing_, it works freely, and can be had at reasonable prices at the extensive factory of messrs. shackell and lyons, clerkenwell, who made the ink used for this work. there are several eminent engineers who make the best of presses. our _letter_ may safely be pronounced, if not perfect, as near perfection as it will ever reach--and while the celebrated type-foundries of messrs. caslon, chiswell street, and messrs. figgins, west street, are within the reach of the metropolitan printers, there can be no excuse for failing to execute good printing on the score of inferior type. the substitution of the _inking roller_, instead of the cumbrous and inconvenient old balls, has much eased the labours of the pressman and facilitated the regularity of colour. the inking roller at the hand press was adopted, and offered to the printers generally, by my friend, mr. applegath, shortly after _steam-printing_ was introduced by my father--about which so much has been said in periodical publications, &c., that it is needless here to enlarge on the subject--more especially as it is principally applicable to work of inferior character, newspapers, reviews, magazines, &c.; and, further, it is not a very tempting subject to the son of him who was led to devote the energies of the latter years of his active life, and the well-earned fortune which his great typographical celebrity had secured, to the adoption of a mode of printing which, how much soever it may benefit newspaper proprietors and others--certainly has done any thing but benefit his family; and has thus added another instance to the many on record of the ill success attending the patronage of inventors. b. bensley. _woking, surrey, june_ , . * * * * * finis. indexes. chronological, bibliographical, and general. chronological index. lovers and collectors of books in great britain. seventh century. theodore, archbishop of canterbury, benedict, bishop, abbot of weremouth, , venerable bede, eighth century. ina, king of the west saxons, alouin, abbot of tours, ninth century. scotus erigena, king alfred, , king athelstan, st. dunstan, archbishop of canterbury, eleventh century. king canute, ingulph, abbot of croyland, lanfranc, archbishop of canterbury, anselm, archbishop of canterbury, , giraldus, archbishop of york, twelfth century. herman, bishop of salisbury, thomas À becket, archbishop of canterbury, - thirteenth century. giraldus cambrensis, bishop of st. david's, , roger bacon, - fourteenth century. king edward the first, king edward the third, richard de bury, bishop of durham, - fifteenth century. john boston, , john plantagenet, first duke of bedford, , thomas cobham, bishop of worcester, robert rede, bishop of chichester, humphrey plantagenet, first duke of gloucester, sir walter sherington, john tiptoft, earl of worcester, george neville, archbishop of york, king henry the seventh, , , sixteenth century. the earl of surrey--sir thomas wyatt, king henry the eighth, - john colet, dean of st. paul's, , - sir thomas more, - erasmus, - cardinal wolsey, - robert wakefield, john leland, - john bale, bishop of ossory, , thomas cranmer, archbishop of canterbury, , queen elizabeth, - roger ascham, , william cecil, first earl of burleigh, matthew parker, archbishop of canterbury, - dr. john dee, , captain cox, sir robert cotton, - sir thomas bodley, - seventeenth century. king james the first, thomas coryate, henry peacham, robert burton, john, lord lumley, henry hastings, - john clungeon, john ward, the ferrar family, - elias ashmole, windsor herald, - william laud, archbishop of canterbury, , henry dyson, richard smith, , dr. seaman, francis north, lord-keeper, hon. and rev. john north, d.d., anthony À wood, - francis bernard, m.d., , eighteenth century. john fell, bishop of oxford, , john more, bishop of ely, samuel pepys, john churchill, first duke of marlborough, prince eugene, narcissus luttrell, edward wynne, henry herbert, ninth earl of pembroke, , john bagford, - john murray, thomas britton, - thomas hearne, - john anstis, garter king of arms, rev. john lewis, - joseph ames--william herbert, thomas baker, - lewis theobald, thomas rawlinson, - humphrey wanley, robert harley, first earl of oxford, - thomas osborne, , john bridges, anthony collins, michael maittaire, richard mead, m.p., - martin folkes, - richard rawlinson, - john (orator) henley, - general james dormer, james west, thomas martin, - serjeant william fleetwood, anthony askew, m.d., - john ratcliffe, , hon. topham beauclerk, rev. thomas crofts, - mark cephas tutet, , richard wright, m.d., john henderson, william fillingham, major thomas pearson, - rev. michael lort, d.d., - right hon. denis daly, , charles chauncy, m.d. } nathaniel chauncy, } , john munro, m.d., rev. richard southgate, george mason, - rev. richard farmer, d.d., - george steevens, - john strange, john woodhouse, george galway mills, john wilkes, , joseph ritson, rev. jonathan boucher, william petty, first marquess of lansdowne, , rev. john brand, - isaac reed, - alexander dalrymple, richard porson, , john maddison, emperor john alexander woodford, richard gough, rev. benjamin heath, , - bibliographical index. list of works consulted or referred to:--criticisms on their intrinsic value being occasionally introduced in the foregoing pages. agostini (lionardo). _notizie istorico-critiche, &c., scritt. viniz._, agrippa (cornelius). _vanity of human sciences_, _occult philosophy_, _ib._ ames (joseph). _typographical antiquities_, _the same_; by herbert, _anonymiana_, _anthologia græca._ dr. askew's copy upon vellum, pinelli do. (afterwards count m'carthy's), [_de_] _antiquitate cantab. acad._, antonio (nicolas). _biblioth. hispana vet. et nov._, _archæologia_, arnold (richard). _his chronicle_, , _arthur._ _robinson's life, actes, and death of_, &c., , east's edition of, copland's do., , ascham (roger). _works by bennet_, ashmole (elias). _theatricum chemicum_, , , , , , , , _diary_, , _way to bliss_, _order of the garter_, , _assertio septem sacramentorum, &c._, _athenæum_, , audiffredi (jean baptiste). _editiones romanæ_, _editiones italicæ_, _ib._ baillet (adrien). _jugemens des savans_, , , , , _catalogue des matières_, _anti baillet_, _ib._ bale (john). _scriptores illustres britanniæ_, , , _actes of englyshe votaryes_, , _preface to leland's laboryouse journey_, , _ballads._ _ancient songs and ballads._ see evans, _in the general index_. barbier (antoine alexandre). _dictionnaire des ouvrages anonymés et pseudonymes françoises_, _cat. des livres de la bibliothèque du conseil d'etat_, barclaii (johannis). _satyricon_, barclay (alexander). _egloges_, &c., barnes (juliana). _on hawking, hunting, &c._, , west's copy of the st. albans' edition of, mason's copy of do., ---- ---- of copland's edition, _ib._ martin's, of wynkyn de worde's, tutet's, of do., bartholin (thomas). _de libris legendis_, bauer (john jacob). _bibliotheca librorum rariorum universalis_, , beloe (rev. wm.) _anecdotes of literature and scarce books_, , , , beughem (cornelius de). _incunabula typographica_, _bibliogr. erudit. crit.-curiosa_, _ib._ _gallia erudita_, _ib._ beyer (augustus). _memoriæ hist.-criticæ libror. rarior._, _arcana sacra bibliothecar. dresdens_, _ib._ _biblia polyglot complut._, _bibliographia scotica._ ritson's ms. of, _bibliographie curieuse._ see peignot. _bibliographie des pays bas_, _bibliomania_, , , , , _bibliosophia_, , , , , , , , , _bibliotheca lusitana_, by machado, _biographia britannica._ an extraordinary copy of, blount (sir thomas pope). _censura celebriorum authorum_, boccaccio (giovanni), _il teseide_, _decamerone_, bolduanus (paul). _bibliotheca historica_, boucher (de la richarderie). _bibliothèque universelle des voyages_, braithwait (richard). _arcadian princesse_, , , - _nursery for gentry_, _english gentleman and gentlewoman_, braun (placid). _notitia hist.-crit. de libris ab art. typog. inv._, _notitia hist.-liter. de cod. mss. in bibl. monast. ord. st. bened._, &c., bridgman (richard whalley). _legal bibliography_, _british bibliographer_, , , , _british librarian_, by savage, , broughton (hugh). _concent of scripture_--upon vellum, brunet (j.c.). _manuel du libraire et de l'amateur de livres_, , bry (theodore de). _perigrationes_, &c., brydges (sir samuel egerton, k.j.) _censura literaria_, , bure (guillaume françois de). _bibliographie instructive_, , , , , , _musæum typographicum_, _cat. des livres de gaignat_, _ib._ _appel aux savans_, _ib._ _reponse à une critique de la bibl. instr._, , bure (g.f. de fils). _cat. des livres du duc de la valliere_, burnet (george). _specimens of english prose writers_, , burnet (gilbert). _hist. of the reformation_, , , , , , , burton (robert). _anatomy of melancholy_, bury (richard de). _philobiblion, sine de amore librorum_, , , byddell (john). _maner and forme of confession_, bysshop (john). _beautifull blossomes_, caballero (r.d.). _de prima typog. hist. Ætat. specimen_, cæsar. _de bell. gall._, , caille (jean de la). _hist. de l'imprimerie et de la librarie_, cailleau. _dictionnaire bibliographique_, , , , , caillot (antoine). _roman bibliographique_, , camden (william). _remaines_, , _annales_, , camus (amurand gaston). _observations sur la distribution, &c., des livres d'une bibliothèque_, _additions aux mêmes_, _ib._ _memoires sur une livre allemand (teurdanckhs)_, _addition aux mêmes_, _ib._ _memoire, &c., sur le polytypage et stereotype_, _ib._ _rapport sur la continuation, &c., des hist. de france_, _ib._ _notice d'un livre imprimé à bamberg_, _ib._ _memoire sur la collection des grands et petits voyages_, _ib._ _voyage dans les départmens réunis_, cardona (j.b.) _de reg. sanct. lament. bibliotheca_, _de bibliothecis, &c._, _ib._ _de expurgandis hæreticorum propr. nom._, _ib._ _de dypthicis_, _ib._ casaubon (meric). _a relation concerning dee and some spirits_, casiri (michael). _biblioth. arab. hisp. escurial._, _catalogues: foreign._ augsbourg, , aurivillius, badenhaupt, _ib._ baluze, _ib._ barberini, _ib._ barthelemy, bern, _bibliog. des pays bas._, bonnier, boutourlin, _ib._ boze, _ib._ bozérian, _ib._ bulteau, _ib._ bunau, bunneman, _ib._ caillard, _ib._ cambis, camus de limare, _ib._ _catalogue des livres rares_ _par de bure_, _ib._ _fait sur un plan nouveau_, _ib._ _catalogus librorum rarissimorum_, _ib._ ceran, clement-vatican, _ib._ colbert, , conseil d'etat, cordes, _ib._ cotte, couvay, _ib._ crevenna, , , crozat, damme [van], _ib._ dubois, _ib._ elzevir, _ib._ fagel, _ib._ faultrier, _ib._ favier, _ib._ fay [du], _ib._ fresne [du], gaignat, , genève, goez, _ib._ golowkin, _ib._ gouttard, _ib._ guyon, _ib._ heinsius (nic.), hohendorf, _ib._ hoym, _ib._ hulsius, , jena, jesu-soc., just (st.), _ib._ krohn, _ib._ lamoignon, , lancelot, lemarié, _ib._ lomenie de brienne, , macarthy (ct.), magliabechi, , mark (st.), medici-lorenzo, _ib._ manarsiana, _ib._ menckenius, _ib._ meon, _ib._ mercier, merigot, _ib._ michael (st.), _ib._ mirabeau, _ib._ miromenil, montfaucon, _ib._ morelli, _ib._ paris, petau and mansart, _ib._ pinelli, , , pompadour, préfond, randon de boisset, _ib._ reimannius, _ib._ renati, _ib._ revickzky, rive, _ib._ roi (louis xv.), , , röver, rothelin, sarraz, _ib._ sartori, _ib._ schalbruck, _ib._ schwartz, _ib._ scriverius, _ib._ serna santander, solger, , soubise, tellier, _ib._ thuanus (de thou), _ib._ uffenbach, _ib._ valliere (duc de la), , vienna, volpi, voyage de deux françois, &c. _ib._ zurich, _ib._ _catalogues: english._ ames (of engl. heads), askew, beauclerk, bernard (dr. f.), boucher, bodleian, , brand, bridges, britton, chauncy, collins (anthony), (concannon), corpus christi (cambr.), cotton, , crofts, dalrymple, daly, dodd, dormer, farmer, fillingham, fletewode, folkes, gough, harley (earl of oxford), , hearne, (heath), henderson, henley, hoblyn, hutton, _ib._ institution (royal), lansdowne, lort, maddison, manton, maittaire, martin, , mason, mills, mores (rowe), munro, museum (british), , osborne, paterson, pearson, pepys, porson, ratcliffe, rawlinson (richard), rawlinson (thomas), reed, ritson, seaman (dr.), sion college, smith (consul), smith (richard), smyth, southgate, stace, steevens, swedenborg, (thurlo), tutet (m.c.), west, wilkes, wood (anthony), woodford, woodhouse, _prints_, ---- _books_, worsley (dr.), wright, wynne, _catalogue of books_, , to., caxton (william). books printed by him in west's collection, , in the fletewode do., in dr. askew's do., in john ratcliffe's do., , in tutet's do., in macartney's do., in mason's do., , in brand's do., chalmers (mr. alexander). _history of the university_ of oxford, _collection of the english poets_, chalmers (mr. george). _apology for the believers in shakespeare, &c._, _edition of sir david lynday's poem_, chartier (alain). _livres des quartre dames_, _les faicts, dictes, et ballades_, chaucer (geoffrey). _canterbury tales_, , , _troylus and creyseyde_, chesne (andrew du). _biblioth. hist. galliæ_, _chess._ works relating thereto, , chevillier (andrew). _l'origine de l'imprimerie à paris_, , , _series auctor. de franc. hist._, _ib._ _choice of change_, _churchyard's pieces_, , cinelli (john). _bibliotheca volante_, clarke (rev. dr. adam), _bibliographical dictionary_, clarke (dr. edward daniel). _travels in russia_, _classical journal_, , clement (claude). _extract. bibl. tam privatæ quam publicæ_, ---- (david). _bibliothèque curieuse_, _les cinq années literaires_, _ib._ coke (sir edward). _institutes_, , collier (rev. jeremy). _ecclesiastical history_, , - conringius (herman). _bibliotheca augusta_, coryat (thomas). _crudities_, , , coxe (francis). _detestible wickedness of magical sciences_, cowper (william). _the task_, , croix du maine (françois grude de la) et du verdier. _bibliothèque françoise_, _cynthia; with certain sonnets_, dante (alighieri). _la divina comedia_ ( ), di landini ( ), darwin (john), m.d. _zoonomia_, _debates between the_ [french and english] _heralds_, dekker (thomas). _works_, , denis (michael). _supplementum maittairii annal._, _codices manuscripti theol. bibl. palat. vindob._, , , _dictionnaire bibliographique._ see cailleau. _historique._ caen, , , _de bibliologie._ see peignot. _director_, the, d'israeli (isaac). _curiosities of literature_, , _dives et pauper._ pynson's edition of ( ), , martin's vellum ms. of, dodd (charles). _church history_, dolman (robert). see _treatise of treasons_, post. doni (anthony francis). _la libraria_, draudius (george). _bibliotheca classica_, , _drolleries_, dugdale (sir william). his _works_, complete, du pin (louis ellies). _ecclesiastical history_, , , dunstan (st.) _de occulta philosophia_, durandi (gulielmus). _rationale_, upon vellum, ellis (mr. george). _specimens of the early english poets_, , , , engel (samuel). _bibliotheca selectissima, &c._, _england's helicon_, , englefield (sir h.c.) _walk through southampton_, _example of sertu_, fabricius (john albert). _bibliotheca græca_, _bibliotheca latina_, _ib._ _bibliographia antiquaria_, _ib._ _bibliotheca ecclesiastica_, _ib._ _bibl. lat. mediæ et inf. Ætatis_, , _sylloge opusc. hist. cat. lit. j.a. fabricii_, _hist. bibliothecæ fabricianæ_, , ferriar (john), m.d. _comments upon sterne_, _the bibliomania_, , , , , _festiuall, the boke that is called_, fischer (gotthelf). _essai sur les monum. de typog. de gutenberg_, _descriptions de raretés typographique, &c._, _fishing._ books upon, , , fontaine (john de la), _contes de la_--manuscript de mons. paris, fontanini (giusto). _biblioteca del eloquenza italiana_, fossius (ferdin). _cat. biblioth. magliabechi_, , , fournier (françois j.) _dict. portatif de bibliographie_, , , , fournier (pierre simon). _dissertation sur l'origine, &c., de graver en bois_, _de l'origine et productions de l'imp., &c., en bois_, _ib._ _traité sur l'origine, &c., de l'imprimerie_, _ib._ _observations, &c., sur les vindicæ typographicæ_, _ib._ _epreuves de caractères nouvellement gravés_, _ib._ _manuel typographique_, _ib._ fox (john). _book of martyrs_, , , fresnoy (n.c. du). _methode pour etudier l'histoire_, freytag (f.g.). _analecta literaria_, _adparatus literarius_, _ib._ froissart (sir john). _chronicles_, , fuller (rev. thomas), d.d. _church history_, , , , gaddius (james). _de scriptoribus non ecclesiastices_, gale (thomas), d.d. _rerum anglicar. script. vet._, , , gallois (john). _traité des plus belles bibliothèques_, gascoigne (george). _works_, in steevens's collection, in reed's collection, _gentleman's magazine_, , , , , , , georgius. _lexicon literarium_, gerdes (daniel). _florilegium hist.-crit. libror. rarior., &c._, gesner (conrad). _bibliotheca, seu catalogus universalis_, _pandectæ_, , geyler (john). _navicula sive speculum fatuorum_, , gibbon (edward). _decline and fall of the roman empire_, _posthumous works_, gildas's _epistle_, girald barri. _sir richard colt hoare's edition of_, goddard (william). _satyrical dialogue, betweene alexander, &c., and diogenes_, godwyn (francis). _catalogue of the bishops of england_, , , _annales of england_, gomez, or gomecius (alvarez). _de rebus gestis cardinalis ximines_, googe (barnabe). his works in steevens's collection, gough (richard). _british topography_, , goujet (claude peter). _bibliothèque françois_, &c., gower (john). _confessio amantis_, grafton (richard). _chronicles_, gunton (simon). _hist. of peterborough abbey_, gutch (rev. john). _collectanea curiosa_, , , hallevordius. _bibliotheca curiosa_, hardyng (john). _chronicle_, harpsfield (nicholas). _hist. eccles. anglicana_, harrison. _seven triumphal arches_, harwood (rev. edward), d.d. _view of the various editions of the greek and roman classics_, haym (nicolas francis). _biblioteca italiana_, hearne (thomas). _johan. ros. hist. angl. regum_, _thom. caii vindic. antiq. acad. oxon._, , , , _antiquities of glastonbury_, , , , , , , _john. confrat. mon. de rebus glastoniens._, , , _adam de domerham de rebus gest. glaston._, , , _guil. neubrig. hist._, _curious discourses by eminent antiquaries_, , , _benedictus abbas_, , , , _robert de avesbury_, _guliel. roperi vita d.t. mori_, , , , , _robert of glocester_, , , _peter langtoft's chronicle_, , _tit. liv. foro-juliensis_, , , _annals of dunstaple priory_, _liber niger scaccarii_, _hist. vit. et regni ricardi ii._, , _walt. hemingford hist._, , , , , , _heming. wigorens. chartular._, , , _thomas de elmham_, , _alured de beverley_, , heinecken (baron). _nachrichten von kunstlern_, &c., _idée generale d'une collection d'estampes_, , _dictionnaire des artistes_, henry (rev. robert), d.d. _history of great britain_, , , , , , , herbert (william). _typographical antiquities_, , , , , _heures de notre dame_, heylin (rev. peter), d.d. _life and death of archbishop laud_, hirschius (c.c.). _librorum ab anno i. usque ad annum l. sec. xvi._, horatius. _carmen_, lib. i., &c., jacob (louis). _traicté des plus belles bibliothèques_, , _bibliothèque universelle_, _bibliotheca parisina_, jansen. _de l'invention de l'imprimerie_, _john bon and mast. person_, johnson. _upon english bibles_, _kalender of shepherds_, kennet (white, d.d., bishop of peterborough). _parochial antiquities_, knight (rev. samuel), d.d. _life of colet_, , _life of erasmus_, , koenigius (george matthias). _biblioth. vet. et nov._, kollarius (adam francis). his edition of lambecius's _commentarii_, &c., , labbe (philip). _bibliotheca bibliothecarum_, _bibliotheca nummaria_, _mantissa suppellectilis_, _ib._ _specimen nov. bibl. manuscript_, _ib._ _collectio maxima conciliorum_, _ib._ lackman (adam herne). _annal. typog. selecta quædam capita_, laire (franciscus xavier). _specimen hist. typog. rom._, _dissertation sur l'imprimerie en franche comté_, _index libror. ab invent, typog. ad ann. _, , lambecius (pierre). _commentarii de bibl. cæsar vindobon._, lambinet (p.). _recherches, &c., sur l'origine de l'imprimerie_, &c., , laneham (robert). _letter of the entertainment given to q. elizabeth at killingworth castle_, , latimer (hugh), archbishop of canterbury. _sermons_, , leibnitz (godfrey william de). _idea bibliothecæ publiæ_, &c., _scriptores rerum brunsvicensium_, _ib._ leland (john). _collectanea_, , , _de scriptoribus britannicis_, _itinerarium_, le long (jacques). _bibliotheca sacra_, _bibliothèque historique de la france_, lewin. _birds of great britain_, lewis (rev. john). _upon english bibles_, _life off the archbishop of canterbury_, &c., lipenius (martin). _biblioth. theol. med. philos. jurid._, lipsius (justus). _syntagma de bibliothecis_, lloyd (david). _memoirs of the sufferers_, lomeier (john). _de bibliothecis liber singularis_, , , lupset (thomas). _exhortacion to yonge men_, macdiarmid (john). _lives of british statesmen_, , mackenzie (george), m.d. _scottish writers_, maichelius (daniel). _de præcip. bibl. paris_, , maittaire (michael). _annales typographici_, , , _historia stephanorum_, &c., _historia typographor. aliquot. parisiens_, marchand (prosper). _dict. historique, ou mémoires critiques_, &c., , , , _histoire de l'imprimerie_, , _marie magdalene._ life and repentance of, marville. _melanges d'histoire et de literature_, masters (robert). _life of thomas baker_, , maunsell (andrew). _catalogue of english books_, mazzuchelli (giovanni maria). _gli scrittori d'italia_, &c., meerman (gerard). _origines typographicæ_, _memoires de l'institut national_, , , , , _memoirs (old and new) of literature_, mercier de st. leger. _supplement á l'histoire de l'imprimerie par marchand_, _his bibliographical character_, _ib._ _catalogue of his books_, middleton (rev. conyer), d.d. _dissertation upon the origin of the art of printing_, momoro (antoine françois). _traité elementaire de l'imprimerie_, monstrelet (enguerand de). _chronicles of, translated by mr. johnes_, _monthly mirror_, _monthly review_, more (sir thomas). _utopia_, , , mores (edward rowe). _of english founders and founderies_, , morhof (daniel george). _polyhistor. literarius_, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , _princeps medicus_, _epistola de scypho vitreo per somn. human. voc. rupto_, murr (c.t. de). _memorabilia biblioth. public. norimb._, nash (thomas). wright's collection of his _works_, naudé or naudæus (gabriel). _avis pour dresser une bibliothèque_, _mascurat_, _ib._ _considerations politiques_, _ib._ _additions à l'histoire de louis xi._, _ib._ _avis à nos seigneurs de parlement_, _ib._ _remise de la bibliothèque, &c._, _ib._ _catalog. biblioth. cordes._, _apologie, &c., faussement soupçonnez de magie_, neander (michael). _erotemata græcæ linguæ_, niceron (jean pierre). _mémoires pour servir à l'histoire des hommes illustres_, nichols (john). _manners and expenses of ancient times in england_, - _history of leicestershire_, _anecdotes of bowyer_, , , , nicolson (william, d.d., bishop). _english, scottish, and irish hist. libraries_, _epistolary correspondence_, _ib._ noble (rev. mark). _continuation of granger_, north (roger). _life of lord keeper guildford_, _life of the hon. and rev. dr. john north_, - _examen_, oberlin (jeremiah james). _essai d'annales de la vie de jean gutenberg_, ogilby (william). _his works_, oldys (william). _british librarian_, , , _life of raleigh_, _harleian miscellany_, _ib._ _interleaved langbaine_, _oliver of castille. romance of_, , , _ordynary of christian men_, orlandi (pellegrino antonio). _origine e progressi della stampa, &c._, osmont. _dictionnaire typographique_, otho and octhobone. _constitutions provinciales_, painter (william). _palace of pleasure_, hutton's copy of, paitoni (giacomo maria). _biblioteca degli autori antichi, &c._, palmer (samuel). _history of printing_, , pansa (mutius). _biblioteca vaticana_, panzer (george wolfgang francis). _annales typographici_, _annalen der altern deutschen literatur, &c._, _ib._ _paradise of dainty devises_, , , park (mr. thomas). _royal and noble authors_, , , _edition of the harleian miscellany_, _passe temps de tout hommes, &c._, peacham (henry). _compleat gentleman_, - peignot (gabriel). _dictionnaire de bibliologie_, , , , , , , , , _essai de curiosités bibliographiques_, , , _dictionnaire, &c., des livres condamnés, &c., ou censurés_, _bibliographie curieuse_, , petrarca (francisco) [transcriber's note: francesco]. _le rime_ ( ), _opere de_ ( ), pitseus (johannes). _de rebus anglicis_, , _plaister for a galled horse_, , plato. _opera omnia_--upon vellum, plinii. _hist. naturalis_ ( ), upon vellum, ( ), upon vellum, _pole. life of reginald_, , _polychronicon._ _caxton's edit._, , _pope (sir thomas). life of_, , possevinus (antonius). _bibliotheca selecta, &c._, _apparatus sacer_, _ib._ praet (joseph van). _cat. des mss. du duc de la valliere_, , _cat. des livres imprimés sur velin_, prince (john). _worthies of devon_, priscianus. _de art. gram._ ( ), _promptuarium parvulorum_, . martin's copy of, prynne (william). _records_, puhtherb (gabriel). _de tollendis et expurgandis malis libris_, puteanus (ericus). _de usu bibliothecæ_, &c., _auspicia bibliothecæ lovaniensis_, _ib._ puttenham (george). _art of english poesie_, _pype or tonne of perfection_, , quirini (angelo maria, cardinal). _specimen variæ literaturæ brixiens_, _catalogo delle opere, &c._, _ib._ _de optimorum scriptorum editionibus_, _ib._ rastell (john). _chronicle, or pastyme of people_, martin's copy of, ratcliffe's copy of, chauncy's copy of, mason's copy of, raynaud (theophilus). _erotemata de malis ac bonis libris, &c._, _recueil des historiens des gaules_, , [transcriber's note: ] reimannus. _bibliotheca acroamatica_, , renouard (antoine auguste). _l'imprimerie des alde_, , , _revelacions of a monk of euisham_, _revelationes scancte [transcriber's note: sancte] birgitte_, _reviews._ _american_, , _edinburgh_, , _monthly_, _quarterly_, , , , ridley (nicholas, bishop of london). _life of ridley_, ritson (joseph). _ancient english metrical romances_, rive (abbé jean joseph). _chasse aux bibliographes_, _notices calligraphiques, &c._, _ib._ _anecdotes of_, _ib._ _catalogue of his library_, _l'art de connoitre les miniatures des mss. anciens_, _notice d'un roman d'artus_, _etrennes aux joueurs des cartes_, _ib._ _robin hood. a merry jest of_, roccha (angelus). _bibliotheca vaticana_, _romances_ in croft's library, - in farmer's ditto, ronsard (peter de). _poemes de_, rossi (john bernard de). _annales hebræo-typographici_, roy (william). _rede me and be not wroth_, , , , , rymeri (thomas). _foedera_, , sandford (francis). _genealogical history_, savile (sir henry). _scriptores post bedam_, saxius (christopher). _onomasticon literarium_, , schelhorn (j.g.) _amoenitates literariæ_, &c., , , _amoenitates hist. ecclesiast. et lit._, schoepflin (john daniel). _vindicæ typographicæ_, scholtzius. _icones bibliopolorum et typographorum_, _thesaurus symbolorum et ac emblematum_, _ib._ schottus (andreas). _de bibl. et claris. hisp. viris_, scott (reginald). _discovery of witchcraft_, scott (walter). _hunting song_, _marmion_, _lady of the lake_, _edition of dryden's works_, , _edition of the somers tracts_, seemiller (sebastian). _bibl. ingolstad. incunab. typog._, seiz (john christopher). _annus tertius sæcular. inv. hist. typog._, , senebier (jean). _catalogue des mss. de genève_, , serna santander. _catalogue des livres de_, , , _diction. bibliogr. choisi du xv. siecle_, , _sevin seages, the_, shakspeare. edit. , , early editions of in wright's collection, in smyth's ditto, in farmer's ditto, in steevens's ditto, - steevens's own edition of, the edition of , _ib._ portrait of, ritson's manuscript notes relating to, reed's collection of tracts relating to, _ship of fools_, , , skelton (john). _works of_, martin's set of, wright's ditto, pearson's ditto, steevens's ditto, woodhouse's ditto, smith (john). _printer's grammar_, snelling (thomas). _works upon the coinage_, _speculum christiani_, chauncy's copy of, mason's copy of, speed (john). _hist. of great britain_, spizelius (theophilus). _infelix literatus_, , , stapleton (thomas). _translation of bede's ecclesiastical history_, _counterblast to horne's vayne blaste_, stowe (john). _chronicle, or annals_, , , , , struvius (gottlieb). _bibliotheca librorum rariorum_, _bibliotheca historica_, _ib._ _cura meusel_, _ib._ _bibliotheca hist. selecta_, _bibliotheca saxonica_, _ib._ strype (rev. john). _life of cranmer_, , , , , , _ecclesiastical memorials_, , , _annals of the reformation_, _life of parker_, , , stubbes (philip). _anatomy of abuses_, , [transcriber's note: ] _supplicacion of beggars_, tanner (thomas, bishop of st. asaph). _edition of wood's athenæ oxonienses_, _bibliotheca britan. hibernica_, , , , teisser (anthony). _bibliotheca bibliothecarum_, terentianus (maurus). dr. askew's copy of, _tewrdanckhs._ a book so called, , dr. askew's copy of--upon vellum, tutet's copy of, thomson (james). _winter_, ; _autumn_, tiraboschi (girolamo). _letteratura italiana_, toderini (giambatista). _letteratura turchesca_, todd (rev. henry john). _illustrations of gower and chaucer_, , , , _treatise of treasons_, trefler (florian). _disposition des livres dans une bibliothéque_, _troie, recueil of the histories of_, turner (mr. sharon). _history of the anglo saxons_, tusser (thomas). _five hundred points of good husbandry_, twyne (bryan). _antiquit. acad. oxon._, , tyndale (william). _the practice of popishe prelates_, , tyrrel (sir james). _hist. of england._ daly's copy of, _universal historical bibliothéque_, vallans. _tale of two swannes_, valois. _discours sur les bibliothéques publiques_, van praet (joseph), virgilii _opera_ ( ), upon vellum; do. ( ); do., _vita et processus, &c., thomæ à becket_, vives (ludovicus). _instruction of a christian woman_, , vogler. _universalis in notit. cuj. generis bonor. scriptor. introd._, vogt (john). _catalogus librorum rariorum_, , , , , , , _walks in powles_, walton (izaak). _complete angler_, , , , warton (joseph). _hist. engl. poetry_, , , , , , , , , , , wasse. _bibliotheca literaria_, watson. _history of the art of printing_, webbe (william). _discourse of english poetrie_, , _weekly memorials for the ingenious_, wendler (john christian). _dissertatio de var. raritat. libror. impress. causis_, werburge (st.). _life of._ martin's copy of, pearson's do., woodhouse's do., wharton (henry). _anglia sacra_, withers (george). _emblems_, wolfius (john christian). _monumenta typographica_, _bibl. aprosiana_, wolfius (john). _lectiones memorabiles, &c._, , wordsworth (rev. christopher, d.d.). _ecclesiastical biography_, , , , _works of the learned_, wood (anthony). _athenæ oxonienses_, , _hist. and antiq. of the colleges and halls of oxford_, , _annals of the university of oxford_, , , , , , , , wurdtwein (stephen alexander). _bibliotheca moguntina_, ximenes (cardinal francis). _bibl. polyglot. complut._, , _missale mozarabicum_, _breviarum mozarabicum_, _ib._ zapf (george william). _annales typog. augustan._, general index. _agrippa_ (_cornelius_). account of some of his works, _d'aguesseau_ (_chancellor_). account of his library, _alcove, the._ description of lorenzo's, , _alcuin_, _alfred_, _alphonso._ an obstinate literary character, _ames_ (_joseph_), _ancillon._ pillage of his library, _anne boleyn._ her coronation dinner described by stow, , _anselm_, _anstis_ (_john_). original letter of, literary character of, , _antiphoners_, _antonio_ (_nicolas_). _see bibliographical index._ _arch_ (_messrs. john and arthur_). their purchase of sandford's genealogical history, l.p., _aristotle's works_--printed upon vellum, _d'artois_ (_count_). catalogue of his library, purchase of the vallière collection, _ascham_, (_roger_). his 'schoolmaster' commended, _ashmole_ (_elias_). some account of, - _askew_ (_dr. anthony_). some account of, with specimens of his library, - _atticus._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, - , _auctions of books._ their origin in this country, - warmth of bidders at, _audiffredi_ (_jean baptiste_). _see bibliographical index._ _autumnal morning_, , _baber_ (_rev. henry hervey_). preparation of the catalogue of the museum printed books, his edition of wickliffe's translation of the new testament, _bacon_ (_roger, or friar_), - _bacon_ (_sir nathaniel_). libellous character of, _bagford_ (_john_). some account of, - wood-cut of his rebus, or device, _baillet_ (_adrien_). some account of, - --_see bibliographical index._ _baker_ (_thomas_). some account of, - extract from his will, _baker_ (_late mr. george_). copy of reed's catalogue of books, catalogue of strawberry-hill pieces, _bale_ (_john, bishop of ossory_). some account of, - his portrait, _baltimore_ (_lord_). his 'gaudia poetica,' _barnes_ (_juliana_). her work on hunting, &c., , , , , _barthélémy_ (_abbé_). catalogue of his library, _bartholin._ _see bibliographical index._ _beauclerk_ (_hon. topham_). account of his library, , _becket_ (_thomas à_), account of his murder, _bede_, _bedford_ (_john, duke of_). his beautiful missal, , _beloe_ (_rev. mr._). _see bibliographical index._ _benedict_ (_biscop_), _benet_ (_sir john_). assists sir t. bodley in erecting the bodl. library, _bernard_ (_dr. francis_). some account of his library, , engraving of his portrait, _bernardo._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, his copy of an illustrated chatterton, of walton's complete angler, _ib._ _berryer_ (_mons._). his care and skill in having his books bound, _beughem._ _see bibliographical index._ _bibles._ ancient english, _bibliographers._ character of aspersed, _bibliography._ cabinet of, opinions of foreign critics thereupon, , outline of its rise and progress, - utility and importance of the study so called, _bibliomania._ history of the bibliomania, or of english book-collectors, - see _chronological index_. definition of, and works upon, - { . large paper copies, , , - { tall and fine paper do., { . uncut copies, - { . illustrated copies, - { . unique copies, - symptoms of the { . copies printed upon vellum, - disease so called; { . first editions, - being a passion { . true editions, - for { . books printed in the black letter, - { . for private distribution, - { . at a private press, - { . suppressed, condemned, &c., { . all the editions of a work, - { . large and voluminous works, { . studying of useful & profitable works, probable means of { . reprints of scarce and valuable works, the cure of { . editing of the best authors, { . erection of literary institutions, { . study of bibliography, , _bibliomaniacs._ character of, book-auction bibliomaniacs, _black letter._ passion for books printed in the, - _blandford_ (_marquis of_). his zeal in collecting books printed by caxton, _blenheim._ account of the library there, _blount_ (_thomas_). see _bibliographical index_. _bodleian library._ catalogue of, history of its erection, - list of some of the contributors to, , _bodley_ (_sir thomas_). some account of, - wood-cut portrait of, _bodoni._ beauty of his books printed upon vellum, _books._ ancient prices of, - illuminated, of terror. their effects upon young minds, - skill of the ferrar family in binding, - account of ancient binding of, - skill in modern book-binding, , importation of in barrels, sales of by public auction, - , printed upon vellum, , , , - upon satin, in the black letter, - for private distribution, - at private presses, - _book-rooms, or libraries._ simplicity of ancient, , _booksellers._ of respectability in london, , in scotland, in provincial towns, _book-story._ a romantic one, - _boston_ (_john_), , _boucher_ (_rev. jonathan_). his supplement to johnson's dictionary, , account of his library, _braithwait_ (_richard_). his poetry commended, - _brand_ (_rev. john_). account of his library, - _bridges_ (_john_). sale of his library, _britain, little._ famous for the bookselling trade, , , _britton_ (_thomas_). some account of, - sale of his library, _bulmer_ (_mr. william_). his sumptuous edition of shakspeare, the same, a unique copy of, his edition of the deserted village upon satin, _bure_ (_guillaume françois de, and guill. le jeune de_). see _bibliographical index_. _burney_ (_rev. charles, ll.d._). his fortunate purchase of a manilius, his edition of bentley's epistles, _burton_ (_robert_), _bury_ (_richard de_). editions of his philobiblion, extract from, account of, - _bute_ (_marquis of_). his copy of hogarth's prints, his collection of the devices of pope sixtus v., his valuable granger, _butler_ (_mr. charles_). his literary character, _caillard_ (_m._). his uncut first homer, , his nicety in having his books bound, _caille_ (_jean de la_). see _bibliographical index_. _cambridge._ catalogue of the books contained in the university wanted, _canute_, _carlisle_ (_earl of_). his "father's revenge," _casiri._ see _bibliographical index_. _catalogues._ importance of making good ones, foreign and english. see "catalogue," _bibliographical index_. _caxton_ (_william_). reviled by bale, _his various printed books_, , _&c._ see _bibliographical index_. _his portrait_, _cecil._ libellous character of, , _charles the fifth of france._ founder of the royal library, , description of do., _chauncey_ (_dr. charles and nathaniel_). account of their libraries, , _cheering._ explanation of this word, , _chess._ game of, described, - _chevillier_ (_andrew_). see _bibliographical index_. _chi ho-am-ti._ an incendiary of libraries, _chivalry and romances._ books relating thereto, - _christie_ (_john_). his "dissertation on etruscan vases," _chronicles, ancient._ reprints of, _cinelli_ (_john_). see _bibliographical index_. _clavel_ (_robert_). his book-catalogues, _clerk, or clergyman._ regulations concerning, _clungeon_ (_john_), _cobham_ (_thomas, bishop of worcester_), _colbert_ (_j.b._). catalogue of his library, _colet_ (_john, dean_). some account of, - print of his supposed study, _collins_ (_anthony_). sale of his library, _conringius_ (_herman_). see _bibliographical index_. _conybeare_ (_rev. mr._). his copy of lord surrey's translation of part of the Æneid, _coryate_ (_thomas_), _cotton_ (_sir robert_). some account of, - _covent garden theatre._ quarrels relating thereto, _cox_ (_captain_). some account of, , his library, _cranmer_ (_thomas, archbishop of canterbury_). some account of, , his bible upon vellum, expense of his execution, _crevenna library._ catalogues of, _critics and criticism._ true spirit and character of, superficialness and severity of, _crofts_ (_rev. thomas_). account of his library, - _cromwell_ (_thomas_). his conduct in respect to the reformation, _crowles._ his copy of an illustrated pennant, _dalrymple_ (_alexander_). sale of his library, _daly_ (_denis, rt. hon._). account of his library, , _dee_ (_dr. john_). some account of, - his library, _denis_ (_michael_). see _bibliographical index_. _devonshire_ (_late duchess of_). her "mount st. gothard," _didot._ skill of his printing upon vellum, _dodd_ (_james william_). account of his library, _dormer_ (_general_). catalogue of his library, _douce_ (_francis_). his partiality for a foreign bibliographical work, preparation of the lansdowne collection of mss., account of wolsey's property, skill in old english and french literature, criticisms on his "illustrations of shakspeare," &c., _ib._ _dramatic libraries_, , _dramatica notitia_, _dream._ lysander's, - _dunstan_ (_st._). his work "de occulta philosophia," some account of, _dyson_ (_henry_), _education of youth_, - _edward the first_, _edward the third_, , _edwards_ (_mr._). his copy of the catalogue of the crevenna library, zeal in the importation of foreign books of rarity and value, copy of the first edition of livy--upon vellum, catalogues commended, in possession of the bedford missal, his painting of erasmus and froben by fuseli, communication respecting count m'carthy's books, _elizabeth_ (_queen_). her book of devotions, plate of the golden cover of, account of her love of books, , engravings from her prayer-book, , _ellis_ (_sir henry_). preparation of catalogue of the museum printed books, his bibliographical communications, , , edition of fabian's chronicles, _english._ want of curiosity respecting their own literary history, importance of a national press to, _episode._ what is meant thereby, _erasmus._ some account of, - painting of him and froben, print of his study, rude wood-cut portrait of him, _ib._ a copy of his first edition of the gr. test.--upon vellum, editions of his words, _eugene_ (_prince_). his magnificent library, _evans_ (_mr. r.h._). his edition of old english ballads, , a respectable vender of classical books, his copy of his recueil des historiens des gaules, his reprint of hakluyt's voyages, _fabricius_ (_john albert_). see _bibliographical index_. _fabricius_ (_john_). see _bibliographical index_. _falconer_ (_william_). poem of the shipwreck printed upon satin, _farmer_ (_rev. richard, d.d._). account of his library, - _faulkener_ (_henry_). a skilful and honest book-binder, _ferdinand._ a romantic book-story concerning, - _ferrar family._ their attachment to books, and skill in book-binding, - _fillingham_ (_late mr. william_). his library and character of, _first editions._ passion for collecting, - _fishing._ whether a merry or contemplative art, _fitzwilliam_ (_lord viscount_). his collection of rembrandt's prints, _fletewode_ (_serjeant william_). account of his monastic library, _florizel._ his attachment to hawking, &c., _folkes_ (_martin_). some account of, - sale and analysis of his library, wood-cut of his portrait, _fopling_ (_sir_). his periwig, _ford_ (_mr._), _bookseller._ his catalogues commended, , _froissart_ (_sir john_). a presentation copy of his chronicles, . see _johnes_ (_colonel thomas_). _gaddius._ his bibliographical work, _gaignat_ (_louis jean_). catalogue of library, , _gesner_ (_conrad_). see _bibliographical index_. his works on natural history, _gifford_ (_mr. william_). his edition of massinger, forthcoming edition of ben jonson, _ib._ _gilbie_ (_anthony_). his character of henry the eighth, _gilchrist_ (_octavius_). his edition of bp. corbett's poems, _girald barri_, , , _glastonbury monastery library_, _godstow nunnery library_, _ib._ _golden legend_, by caxton, _goldsmyd_ (_mr. john lewis_). his vellum copy of "le passe temps," &c., _gonzalo._ a vain literary character, _gossett_ (_rev. dr. isaac_), , _gough_ (_richard_). sale of his library, _goujet_ (_claude peter_). see _bibliographical index_. _grailes._ definition of, _granger_ (_rev. james_). his biographical history of england, _grangerite spirit_, , , _grenville_ (_right hon. thomas_). his large-paper copy of hist. steph. & vit. typ. paris, his large-paper copy of renouard, a similar copy of the vallière catalogue, a similar copy of sandford's genealogical history, a similar copy of strype's annals, _grenville homer._ published by the grenville family, _grollier_ (_john_). some account of, - pattern of the binding of his books, _gutch_, (_mr._), bookseller, , _hamper_ (_mr. william_). his bibliographical communications, , _harley_ (_robert, earl of oxford_). some account of, - analysis of his library, - pope's eulogy upon, , _harris_ (_mr. william_). his catalogue of the royal institution library commended, his correction of the press for reed's edition of shakspeare, in possession of mr. boydell's copy of the original head of shakspeare, his copy of the lamoignon catalogue, _haslewood_ (_mr. joseph_). in possession of a curious volume, his attachment to books upon hawking, &c., , his communication in the british bibliographer, _hastings_ (_henry_). some account of, _hawker-pilgrim._ wood-cut of, _hear! hear!_ explanation of this phrase, _hearne_ (_thomas_). some account of, - wood-cut of his portrait, sale of his library, list of most of his works. see _bibliographical index_. _heath_ (_dr. benjamin_). his fine library, original bibliographical letter of, - fac-simile of his writing, _heber_ (_mr. richard_). his copy of "the debate between the heraldes," of oliver of castille, of froissart by eustace, manuscript of skelton's "image of ypocrisy," copy of maunsell's catalogue, of the first aldine aristophanes, of the catalogue of britton's books, of the catalogues of t. rawlinson's books, _heinecken._ see _bibliographical index_. _heinsius_ (_nicholas_). catalogue of his library, _hell._ descriptions of the torments of, , _henderson_ (_john_). account of his library, , _henley_ (_john, or orator_). account of his library, , anecdotes of, , _henry_ (_rev. robert, d.d._). character of his history of great britain, - _henry the second._ trevisa's character of, _henry the fifth._ warlike character of, _henry the sixth_, _henry the seventh_, - _henry the eighth_, - _herbert_ (_william_). author of the typographical antiquities, particulars relating to, , his correspondence with steevens, , _herman_ (_bishop of salisbury_), _history, ancient english._ neglect of the study of, _hoare_ (_sir richard colt_). his edition of giraldus cambrensis, his large paper copy of kennet's paroch. antiq., _hoblyn_ (_robert_). catalogue of his books commended, _hortensius._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _humphrey_ (_duke of gloucester_), _hutton_ (_john_). his curious collection of books, _illustrated copies_, - _illustration._ recipe for, _ina_ (_king of the west saxons_), _inscription over a library door_, , , _institutions._ public, literary, and scientific, _jacob_ (_louis_). see _bibliographical index_. _jamieson_ (_dr. john_). his scottish dictionary commended, _jesuits._ their bibliographical labours commended, _johnes_ (_col. thomas_). his edition of monstrelet, copy of "heures de notre dame," pleasure-grounds, view of his library, _johnson_ (_dr. samuel_). anecdote of his selling books, , quotation from the rambler about the black-letter, _kay_ (_john_). his siege of rhodes, _kennet_ (_white, bishop of peterborough_). original letters of, opinion of wicliffe, _ib._ _kenrick_ (_william, ll.d._). his review of dr. johnson's tour to the hebrides, _kollarius._ see _bibliographical index_. _labbe_ (_philip_). see _bibliographical index_. _laire_ (_abbé francis xavier_). see _bibliographical index_. _lambecius_ (_pierre_). see _bibliographical index_. _lanfranc, archbishop of canterbury_, _lansdowne_ (_william fitzmaurice petty, first marquis of_). account of his library, , , _large paper copies._ account of valuable works of this character, - the author's publications of this kind, _latimer_ (_hugh, bishop of worcester_). his conduct with respect to the reformation, his sermons quoted, his death, , _laud_ (_william, archbishop of canterbury_). account of his execution, patronage of the ferrar family, _leibnitz_ (_godfrey william de_). see _bibliographical index_. _leland_ (_john_). some account of, - _leontes._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _lepidus._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _lewis_ (_rev. john_). his literary character, - severe opinion of hearne, _liberality_ of religious sentiment, _libraries._ devastation of, at the reformation, - dramatic, , _lisardo._ his general character, - his bibliomaniacal enthusiasm, - , , _literary characters._ quixotic, , careless, acrimonious, vain, , obstinate, critical, , useful, _lomeier_ (_john_). see _bibliographical index_. _lomenie_ (_cardinal de brienne_). account of, and catalogue of his library, , _longman, hurst, rees, orme, and co._ their extensive trade as booksellers, _lorenzo._ a neighbour of the author, his house and grounds, library, drawing-room, alcove, - _lort_ (_dr. michael_). account of his library, - _lotichius_ (_peter_). his latin verses concerning his library, _lumley_ (_john, lord_), , _luttrel_ (_narcissus_). his extraordinary collection of books, _lysons_ (_mr. samuel_). his large paper copy of weever's funeral monuments, _macartney_ (_mr._). account of his library, _maddison_ (_john_). sale of his library, _magliabechi_ (_antonio_). some account of, - _maittaire_ (_michael_). some account of, . see _bibliographical index_. sale of his library, _malvolio._ sale of his busts and statues, , _manton_ (_dr._) sale of his books, _marcellus._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _marchand_ (_prosper_). see _bibliographical index_. _marlborough gems._ in woodhouse's collection, - _martin_ (_thomas, of palgrave_). account of his library, - _mary_ (_queen of philip ii._). commended by a roman catholic writer, _mary_ (_queen of scots_). her portrait, _mason_ (_george_). account of his library, - _maunsell_ (_andrew_). his catalogue of english books, _mazzuchelli_ (_giovanni maria_). see _bibliographical index_. _m'carthy_ (_count_). catalogue of a former library of, his present fine collection of books, , _mead_ (_richard, m.d._). some account of, - sale of his library, pictures, and coins, &c., account of his family, _medici_ (_lorenzo de_). catalogue of the oriental mss. in the library of, _meerman_ (_gerard_). see _bibliographical index_. _menalcas._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _menander._ a literary character, _mercier_ (_de st. leger_). see _bibliographical index_. _mercurii._ attending book-sales, _middleton_ (_rev. conyers, d.d._). see _bibliographical index_. _miller_ (_thomas_). account of, _miller_ (_william_). his illustrated copy of scott's dryden, edition of the shipwreck, of the memoirs of grammont, _mills_ (_george galway_). his fine library, _mirabeau_ (_victor riquetti, marquis de_). catalogue of his library, his passion for beautiful books, _missals._ beauty of their execution, , the toletan and mazarabic, , _monasteries._ books contained in, visitors of, ancient hospitality of, alleged abandoned lives of the keepers, depositories and promoters of literature, devastation of, - _monastic life._ comparison between the monastic and chivalrous age, as most favourable to the bibliomania, _monro_ (_dr. john_). account of his library, , _montfaucon_ (_bernard de_). his bibliographical labours, _moonlight night._ influence of, , _more_ (_john, bishop of ely_). some account of, , _more_ (_sir thomas_), - _morhof_ (_daniel george_). some account of, _murray_ (_john_). some account of, _museum, the british._ the librarians of commended, catalogue of its printed books and manuscripts, , _mustapha._ a book-auction bibliomaniac and book vender, , _naude, or naudæus_ (_gabriel_). his works commended, . see _bibliographical index_. _nelson, life of._ printed upon vellum, _neville_ (_george, archbishop of york_). feast at his inthronization, fond of astrology, _ib._ _niceron._ see _bibliographical index_. _nicholls_ (_mr. john_). his communications respecting dr. mead's family, _nicol_ (_mr. george_). his anecdotes concerning some volumes printed by caxton, _north_ (_francis, lord-keeper_), ---- (_dr. john_), , their passion for books, _oldys_ (_william_). his literary labours appreciated, . see _bibliographical index_. _omar._ supposed destroyer of the alexandrian library, _orlando._ character of, - _osborne_ (_thomas_). the bookseller, , , _painted glass._ hearne's commendation of, _panzer_ (_george wolfgang francis_). see _bibliographical index_. _papillon_ (_mr. david_). book-anecdote concerning him and osborne, _paris de meyzieux._ account, and catalogues, of his fine library, , - _parker_ (_matthew, archbishop_). some account of, - catalogue of his mss., antiquity of the british church, - , libellous life of, his consecration, woodcut portrait of, _paterson_ (_samuel_). his bibliotheca universalis, _payne_ (_mr._). his purchase of the lamoignon library, _peacham_ (_henry_), his "compleat gentleman" quoted, _pearson_ (_thomas, or major_). account of his library, - _pembroke_ (_earl of_). his passion for books, , , _pepys_ (_samuel_). account of his professional and book ardour, , _peterborough abbey library_, (_white, kennet, bishop of_). his opinion of wickliffe, (_earl of_). his passion for books, _peters_ (_hugh_). in possession of a part of laud's library, _pinelli._ catalogues of the pinelli library, an account of the library so called, , _pitts, or pitseus_ (_johannes_). his work commended, _porson_ (_richard_). sale of his library, his erudition, and skilful penmanship, _portraits._ _sales of engravings of rare and curious_, - , , algernon, earl of northumberland, by hollar, anne, queen of james i., by visscher, banfi-hunniades (john), by hollar, the same, with variations, _ib._ berkeley (george, earl of), by hollar, bernard (dr. francis), _ib._ bethell (slingsby), by w. sherwin, bohemia, king and queen of, and family, buckingham (george, duke of), sold by stent, cæsar (sir julius) by elstracke, catharine, queen of charles ii., by faithorne, cecyll (edward), general, by passe, chaloner (sir thomas), by hollar, charles i., by lombard, _ib._ the same, with cromwell's head, _ib._ princess augusta maria, daughter of, by danckers, cole (thomas), cromwell (richard, lord protector), by hollar, cumberland (george, earl of), by r. white, darnley (henry, lord), by passe, devereux, earl of essex, on horseback, by hollar, , the same, standing on foot, by do., , digby (lord), in armour, after vander borcht, elizabeth (queen), in superb court dress, by passe, superbly dressed, between pillars, frederic (prince), &c., with princess elizabeth, by elstracke, hay (lord james), by passe, henry the eighth, by c. m[atsis], henry (prince frederic), by delaram, hollar, his own portrait, hotham (sir john), governor of hull, howard (thomas, earl of suffolk), by elstracke, (thomas, earl of arundel), isham (sir thomas), by loggan, killegrew (thomas), by faithorne, lister (sir matthew, m.d.), by p.v. somer, lloyd (humphrey, of denbigh), by faber, _ib._ lortie (andrew), by van somer, lyon (sir patrick, of carse), by white, _ib._ malines (samuel), by lombart, _ib._ marsham (sir john), by r. white, mary, queen of scots, by mynginus, the same, veiled, &c., _ib._ mascall (edward), by gammon, master martin, by r. gaywood, mountaine (george), bishop of london, g.y. sculpsit, newcastle family, by clowet, o'toole (arthurus severus nonesuch), by delaram, paston (lady), wife of sir w. paston, by faithorne, (sir william), by faithorne, _ib._ pembroke (herbert, earl of), by hollar, (mary, countess of), by passe, (penelope, countess of), by hollar, _ib._ (ann clifford, countess of), by r. white, _ib._ portman (sir william), rawdon (marmaduke), by white, reynell (carew), rupert (prince), by faithorne, sold by r. peake, sack (mull'd), sold by compton holland, sackville (richard, earl of dorset), by passe, shaftesbury (anthony, earl of), by blooteling, _ib._ sheffield (baron edmond), by elstracke, _ib._ shirley (lady elizabeth), by hollar, the same, by do., _ib._ sidney (sir philip), by elstracke, sidney (robert, viscount lisle), by passe, smith (richard), by w. sherwin, somerset (edward, earl of worcester), by passe, stone-eater (the), by hollar, vere (henry, earl of oxford), sold by compton holland, the same, by payne, passe, &c., verney (sir greville), by loggan, wetenhall (edward, bishop of corke and ross), by becket, _ib._ whitington (richard, lord mayor of london), by elstracke, willoughby (sir francis), by t. man, windebank (sir f.) and lord finch, wortley (sir francis), by hertocks, wriothesley (henry, earl of southampton), by passe, wynn (sir john, de gwedir), by vaughan, york (james, duke of), _press, national._ want of, _printers, english._ protected by the statute of richard iii., _printing._ benefit of, _print-sales._ barnard, , sir w. musgrave, , miscellaneous, - _prints._ account of rare and curious ones, - _prospero._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _psalters._ the author's essay upon the ancient psalters printed at mentz, _pynson_ (_richard_), his books upon vellum, _quin_ (_mr._). his passion for books printed upon vellum, _quisquilius._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _ranzau_ (_henry de_). inscription over his library door, _ratcliffe_ (_john_). account of his library, , comparison between the collections of west and ratcliffe, _rawlinson_ (_thomas_). his passion for book-collecting, - catalogues of his several book-sales, , _rawlinson_ (_richard_). sale, and specimens, of his library, , _rede, or read_ (_william, bishop of chichester_), _reed_ (_isaac_). some account of him and his library, , _reformation._ history of the, as connected with the bibliomania, - _rembrandt._ account of the scarcest engravings by him, - _reprints_ of voluminous and useful works applauded, , _revickzky_ (_count_). catalogue, and disposal, of his library, _reviews._ their advantages and disadvantages, rise and progress, , _richard de bury_, - _rinaldo._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _ritson_ (_joseph_). his character, under that of sycorax, - sale of his books, _rive_ (_abbé jean joseph_). see _bibliographical index_. _roche_ (_mr._). his communication respecting count m'carthy, _roscoe_ (_mr. william_). proposed to write a life of erasmus, his commendation of handsome book-binding, _rosicrusius._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, , _roveray_ (_du_). his publications commended, _rowe mores_ (_edward_). sale of his library, _roxburgh_ (_john, duke of_). anecdote of, _royal institution._ catalogue of the library of, _sales, book._ account of their establishment, - number of, in the years - , , _satin._ books printed upon, _saxius_ (_christopher_). see _bibliographical index_. _scaliger_ (_joseph_). the author's estate compared with that of, _scott_ (_robert_). a celebrated bookseller, _scott_ (_sir walter_). beauty of his poetry, . see _bibliographical index_. _scotus erigena_ (_johannes_). account of his writings, _scribes, or scriveners._ ignorance of the ancient, _seaman_ (_dr._) catalogue of his books, - _sharp and hailes._ their publications commended, _sherington_ (_sir walter_). regulations concerning his library, , _similis._ inscription upon his tomb, _smith_ (_consul_). catalogue of his library, , _smith_ (_richard_). account and sale of his library, - engraving of his portrait, _smyth_ (_george_). account of his library, _snuff-box_ of mr. l., _soubise_ (_prince de_). catalogue of his library, _southgate_ (_richard_). account of his collections, _spencer_ (_george john, earl_). his purchase of count revickzky's library, his copies of the mozarabic missal & breviary, copy of the siege of rhodes, printed by caxton, copy of pynson's edition of chaucer's works, copies of illustrated shakspeares, copy of pliny, printed by sweynhem and pannartz, upon vellum, eulogy upon his character, armorial ensigns of, copy of the "assertio septem," upon vellum, _stafford_ (_marchioness of_). description of a private publication by, her skill in etching, _stanley_ (_colonel_). his fine copy of de bry, _steevens_ (_george_). some account of, - analysis of his library, - his verses on eleanour rummin, his letters to herbert, - _strange_ (_john_). his library commended, _strawberry-hill press._ account of books printed there, , vignette device of the house, _struvius._ see _bibliographical index_. _stubbes._ see _bibliographical index_. _surrey_ (_henry howard, earl of_). his whistle, an intended edition of his works by the rev. dr. nott, _ib._ _sutherland_ (_col. alexander hendras_). his extraordinary copy of an illustrated clarendon, _sycorax._ a literary character, - _sykes_ (_sir mark masterman_). his copy of the revickzky catalogue, of rapin's history of england, _tanner_ (_thomas, bishop of st. asaph_). account of his editorship of wood's athen. oxon., his bibl. brit. hibernica, _testament, greek._ number of editions of, _tewrdanckhs._ a book so called, , _theobald_ (_lewis_). his love of old books, _theodore_ (_archbishop of canterbury_), _theological volumes._ great number of, in the imperial library at paris, _thuanas_ [_de thou, jaques auguste_]. account, and catalogue, of his library, _thynne_ (_william_). a distinguished bibliomaniac, _tiptoft_ (_john, earl of worcester_), , _tiraboschi_ (_girolamo_). see _bibliographical index_. _titles of books._ strangely lettered upon the binding, _todd_ (_rev. henry john_). see _bibliographical index_. his editions of milton and spenser commended, _triphook_ (_mr. robert_)--bookseller, his projected work on, 'the history of playing cards,' _tristrem_ (_sir_). a book-auction bibliomaniac, _trithemius_ (_john_). some account of, , wood-cut portrait of, _true editions._ account of, - _tutet_ (_mark cephas_). account of his library, , _ulpian._ a book-auction bibliomaniac, _uncut copies._ passion for the possession of, - _unique copies._ illustration of, - _utterson_ (_mr. edward vernon_). his copy of stubbes's anatomy of abuses, of scott's discoverie of witchcraft, _vallière_ (_duc de la_). anecdote of him and the abbé rive, catalogues of his library, _vellum, books printed upon_, , , , --but see particularly - _visitors of ancient monasteries_, _wakefield_ (_robert_), , _walpole_ (_francis_). heraldic quarterings of, _walpole_ (_horace_). see 'strawberry hill press.' _wanley_ (_humphrey_). some account of, , _warton_ (_thomas_). celebrated under the character of menander, _west_ (_james_). account of, and analysis of his library, - prices of some of his books sold by auction, , , comparison of his library with j. ratcliffe's, _wicliffe_ (_john_). bishop fell's character of, mr. baber's edition of his new testament, life of, by lewis, _wilbraham_ (_mr. roger_). his copy of the 'manner and forme of confession,' _wilkes_ (_john_). account of his library, _wilson_ (_thomas, bishop of sodor and man_). his edition of the bible, _witches._ tracts relating to, at brand's sale, _wolfius_ (_john_). see _bibliographical index_. wood-cut portrait of, _wolsey_ (_thomas, cardinal_), - his character by skelton, roy, and tyndale, , , fine books presented to him, _wood_ (_anthony_). some account of, - . _see bibliographical index._ woodcut portrait of, _woodford_ (_emperor john alexander_). sale of his library, _woodhouse_ (_mr. john_). his collection of prints, - his collection of books, - _worsley_ (_dr._). sale of his books by auction, _worsley_ (_sir richard_). his 'museum worsleyanum,' _wright_ (_richard, m.d._). account of his library, , _wynne_ (_edward_). account of his library, , _ximenes_ (_cardinal francis_). see _bibliographical index_. life of him by lord holland, or mr. southey, a literary desideratum, _youth._ character and history of the education of the ancient english youth, - typographic technical series for apprentices--part viii--no. books before typography a primer _of_ information about the invention of the alphabet and the history of book-making up to the invention of movable types by frederick w. hamilton, ll.d. educational director united typothetÆ of america published by the committee on education united typothetae of america copyright, united typothetae of america chicago, ill. preface an attempt has been made in this book to trace briefly the story of the book from the earliest attempts made by mankind to convey a message by marks on some substance down to the invention of movable types. the development of writing is rapidly traced from the earliest known pictures and sign marks to the present day. the discussion covers the subjects of writing materials and how they were made; the evolution of the book; the conditions of manufacture, distribution, and preservation of books before printing, and the conditions out of which sprang the invention of typographic printing. it is believed that a comprehensive knowledge of the main facts in this long story will be of great value to the young printer, and it is hoped that he may be interested to continue the study in some of the many very excellent books which are available. a short list of a few of the best and most accessible authorities in english will be found on page . it has not been thought worth while to refer to books in other languages. the story of the efforts of men to convey their thoughts to the absent is one of absorbing interest and leads into many pleasant byways of knowledge. while we are studying the processes and materials of a trade by which we hope to gain a livelihood it is well to know something about the men of the past whose accomplishments we inherit. to know something about the men of another time who made this time possible, what they did, what manner of men they were, how they lived, and what they created for us, is the task of this and the following volumes in part viii of this series. contents page chapter i the origin of the alphabet chapter ii writing materials chapter iii the evolution of the book chapter iv making the manuscripts chapter v ancient and mediÆval libraries chapter vi the dawn of a new era books before typography chapter i _the origin of the alphabet_ the story of printing really begins with the earliest dawn of civilization. as soon as men developed a language, even of the simplest sort, they felt the necessity of a means of communication with those who were not present. this would be needed for the identification of property, the making of records, the sending of orders or information, the making of appointments, and many other purposes which would be developed by the needs of even the most rudimentary civilization. we accordingly find evidences of devices to accomplish these ends associated with the earliest human remains. while the cave man was disputing food and shelter with the cave bear, the sabre-tooth tiger, and the mammoth in those places which are now the seats of the most advanced civilizations, he scratched or painted outline sketches of the animals he fought, and perhaps worshipped, on the wall of a cave or on the flat surface of a spreading antler or a piece of bone. [illustration: the oldest known attempt to carve a picture. it dates from the cave period and was found at dordogne, france.] one of the greatest single steps in civilization was the advance from the use of rough stone implements and weapons to the use of chipped and finished stones for the same purpose, commonly referred to as the transition from the paleolithic to the neolithic age. just how long ago that was no one knows and only geologists can guess. among remains dating from this period of transition found in the little village of mas d'azil in france, there have been discovered a number of painted pebbles. whether these were game counters, ownership tags, records, or what not, no one can guess. whether the marks on them were purely mnemonic signs, numerals, or verbal signs of some sort, no one knows. that they were in some way, however, the ancestors of modern printed matter is unquestionable. [illustration: pebbles from mas d'azil.] among the earliest methods of communicating ideas to the absent, pictures hold the largest place. other methods were knots, ordinarily known by the name _quipus_ which they bear among the ancient peruvians. the number and arrangements of the knots and the color of the cords made possible a considerable range of expression. closely associated with these were tallies, or notched sticks, and wampum, or strings of colored shells or beads arranged in various designs. here perhaps may also be classed the so-called ogham inscriptions, made by arrangements of short lines in groups about a long central line. the short lines may be either perpendicular to the central line or at an angle to it. they may be above it, below it, or across it, thus providing a wide range of combinations with a corresponding variety of expression. these primitive methods survive in the rosary, the sailor's log line with its knots or the knotted handkerchief which serves as a simple memorandum. they may run all the way from purely mnemonic signs to a fairly well developed alphabet. more important in its development, however, was the picture. primitive men all over the world very soon learned to make pictures, very crude and simple to be sure, but indicating fairly well what they stand for. these pictures may be so arranged and conventionalized as to convey a good deal of information. the position of a human figure may indicate hunger, sleep, hostility, friendship, or a considerable number of other things. a representation of a boat with a number of circles representing the sun or moon above it may indicate a certain number of days' travel in a certain direction, and so on indefinitely. this method of writing was highly developed among the north american indians, who did not, however, get beyond it. [illustration: indian picture writing. the biography of a chief.] the next step forward is the attempt to represent abstract ideas by means of pictures. the picture then ceases to represent an object and represents an idea. this is called an ideogram. while it has certain very obvious limitations, it has one advantage over more developed systems. the ideogram does not represent a word; it represents an idea. consequently it may be intelligible to people who, in spoken language, represent the idea by very different words. for example, there are several cases where a common set of ideograms appears to have been used as a means of communication between people whose spoken language was mutually unintelligible. the chinese sign for "words" made thus [illustration: [chinese character]] is a typical ideogram. it represents a mouth with vapor rising from it. the next step forward is the development of the ideogram into the phonogram, or sound sign. when this step is taken, the ideogram, besides representing an idea in a general way, represents a sound, usually the name of the object represented by the ideogram or by one of its components. a succession of these phonograms then represents a series of sounds, or syllables, and we have a real, though somewhat primitive and cumbrous, written language. concurrently with this process the original picture has become conventionalized and abbreviated. in this shape it is hardly recognizable as a picture at all and appears to be a mere arbitrary sign. [illustration: comparative ideographs.] after a time men discovered that all the sounds of the human voice were really decomposable into a very few and that all human speech, consisting as it does of combinations of these sounds, could be represented by combinations of simple phonograms each of which should represent neither an idea nor a syllable but one of the primary sounds. the phonograms were then greatly reduced in number, simplified in form, and became what we know to-day as letters. this process appears to have gone on independently in many parts of the world. in many places it never got to the point of an alphabet, and this arrest of development is not inconsistent with a high degree of civilization. the chinese and japanese script, for example, are to this day combinations of ideograms and phonograms. three of the great peoples of antiquity carried this process nearly or quite to a conclusion, although the method followed and the results reached were quite different in the three cases. the three civilizations, of the egyptians in the nile valley, the assyrio-babylonians in the valley of the tigris and euphrates rivers, and the cretans, centering in crete but spreading extensively through the mediterranean basin, developed three great varieties of script. all started with pictures. the egyptians continued to use the pictures in their formal inscriptions down to the persian conquest in the th century b.c. this picture writing or hieroglyphic was well developed and in the phonogram stage about b.c. the formal picture writing of the hieroglyphic was admirably suited to formal inscriptions either carved in stone or painted on a variety of substances. it was not suited, however, to the more rapid work of the recorder, the correspondent, or the literary man. the scribes, or writers, therefore developed a highly abbreviated and conventionalized form of hieroglyphic which could be easily written with a reed pen on papyrus, a writing material to be described presently. the first specimens of papyrus, containing the earliest known specimens of this kind of writing, called hieratic, date from about b.c. even the hieratic was too formal and cumbersome for the common people and was further abbreviated and conventionalized into an alphabet known as the demotic which was in common use among the egyptians from about b.c. to a.d. [illustration: names in hieroglyphic text of three of the most famous pharaohs, cheops, thothmes iii and rameses ii.] among the assyrio-babylonians the use of an entirely different kind of writing material caused the development of a very different type of script. the lands inherited by these people were clay lands and they made enormous use of clay and its products for building materials, utensils, and also writing material. the early inhabitants of this region very soon found that a permanent record could be made by marking a lump of soft clay with a sharp stick and then drying it in the sun or baking it in an oven. naturally the picture very soon degenerated into a series of marks made by holding the stick, or pointed implement, nearly parallel to the clay and then thrusting it into the surface. the resultant mark was like the following: [illustration: cuneiform] this script is called "cuneiform," from two latin words meaning "wedge shaped," from the obvious resemblance of the marks to wedges. the number and arrangement of these marks developed successively into phonograms, ideograms, and letters. the language, which was very complicated in its written form, retained all three to the last. [illustration: first line of a cuneiform inscription commemorating victory of shalmaneser over hazael, king of syria.] the cretan civilization has been unknown to us save through a few uncertain references in greek literature until within about twenty years. within that time many excavations have been made, many objects recovered, and much progress made in the reconstruction of this ancient civilization. the written language has been at least partially recovered, although we are not sure that we have all the signs and we do not know how to read any of them. these signs were of two sorts, described as hieroglyphic and linear. the hieroglyphic signs are either ideograms or phonograms. whether the linear signs are a true alphabet or a syllabary (each sign representing a complete syllable) we do not know. these linear signs have close relations on one hand to the signs used in the island of cyprus, which we know to have been a syllabary, and on the other to the signs used by the phoenicians, which we know to have been an alphabet. there seems to be no question that the final step of discarding all signs excepting the few representing the primary sounds of human speech, and thus developing an alphabet pure and simple without concurrent use of phonograms and ideograms, was made by the phoenicians. the phoenicians were a trading people of semitic origin (akin to the jews and other allied races) whose principal seats were at the eastern end of the mediterranean. various theories have been put forth as to the origin of their alphabet. it is clear that they did not originate it absolutely but developed it from previously existing material. attempts have been made to connect it with the assyrian cuneiform, and for many years it was commonly believed to have been derived from the hieratic form of the egyptian. the evidence of later discoveries, together with the difficulty of reconciling either of these theories with all the known facts, points strongly to the conclusion that the principal source of the phoenician alphabet was the cretan script, probably modified by other elements derived from commercial intercourse with the egyptians and the assyrians. from the phoenician came the greek alphabet. from the greek came the roman, and from the roman, with very little change, came our own familiar alphabet. but that is not all. the phoenician, through various lines of descent, is the common mother of all the alphabets in use to-day including those as different from our own and from each other as the hebrew, the arabic, and the scripts of india. it will be noted that there are now four great families of alphabets. they are the aramean which have the hebrew as their common ancestor; the ethiopic which now exists in but one individual; the indian which now exists in three groups related respectively to the burmese, thibetan, and tamil; and the hellenic, deriving from the greek. the relations of these groups are well worth study as indicating ancient lines of conquest, immigration, and literary influence. the lines of descent are shown in the table on the following page. [illustration: inscription in the cretan linear character from a vase.] genealogy of the alphabet { { hebrew. { { syriac. { { mongolian. { aramean. { arabic. { { pehlevi. { { armenian. { { georgian. { { { ethiopic. amharic. { { { { { burmese. { { { siamese. { { { pali. { javanese. { { { { singalese. { { { { corean. { { { { { { { tibetan. { { { { kashmiri. phoenician. { sabÆan. { indian. { nagari. { gujarati. { { { { marathi. { { { { bengali. { { { { malayan. { { { { { { { tamil. { { { dravidian. { telugu. { { canarese. { { { greek. { hellenic. { latin. { { russian. { { coptic. this table, based on the studies of canon isaac taylor, is taken from clodd's "story of the alphabet." chapter ii _writing materials_ as already indicated, the writing materials in use in different places and at different times have varied greatly. obviously anything capable of receiving an impression or bearing a mark of any kind may be used as material for receiving records or bearing communications. the surface of a stone, a bone, or a shell, a flat piece of wood, bark or leaf of a tree, a plate of metal, the facet of a gem, any one of a thousand things can be used and has been used for this purpose. the egyptians and greeks were in the habit of using the fragments of broken pottery for their less important records. the materials which have been most used, however, have been the assyrian clay tablet, which has been already described, papyrus, vellum, and paper. papyrus was made from a reed which grew abundantly in the nile valley and less abundantly in some other places. it is now nearly extinct but it grows in small quantities in sicily, where papyrus is still made for sale to tourists but not in commercial quantities. the reed was called by the greeks "_bublos_," or "_biblos_," from which the greeks got the word _biblion_, a book, and we get the words bible, bibliography, etc. papyrus was made by cutting the stalk of the reed lengthwise into very thin strips. these strips were laid side by side on a board until the desired width was obtained. another layer of shorter strips was then laid across the long ones entirely covering them. this mat, or "net" as it was technically called, was then soaked in the water of the nile. whether there was any particular virtue in the nile water, which is always more or less charged with mud, or the desired result was obtained simply by the action of water on the reed itself, is not clear. after the soaking was completed, the "net" was dried in the sun, hammered to expel air and water, polished by rubbing with some hard smooth substance, and probably sized, although it is possible that all the sizing necessary was provided by the sap of the reed itself. the sheets were then trimmed even and joined by the edges into a long strip, usually of about twenty sheets. this was rolled on a stick and was then ready for sale as writing material. the quality of the papyrus varied according to the part of the reed from which the strips were cut, and it was the commercial custom to put sheets of varying quality into the same strip or roll. the best sheets were put on the end which would come on the outside of the roll, grading down to the worst at the other end. this was done for two reasons: first, in order that the best material should come where it would receive the most wear, and secondly in order that in case the roll was not entirely used the waste part should be of inferior quality. papyrus continued to be used as the general writing material of the civilized world until about the time of christ, and held its place for certain purposes until the th century, at which period we find it still used for papal bulls and other important documents. it was revived in egypt by the copts, as the people of egypt were then called, in the th century and was used by them extensively until the middle of the th. [illustration: parchment-roll, or volumen. (our word volume comes from volumen.)] from very early ages, leather was more or less used as writing material, but in the nd century b.c., owing, it is said, to the scarcity and high price of papyrus, eumenes ii, king of pergamus, a city of asia minor, invented or caused to be invented, a writing material made of dressed skins. these skins were not tanned but were dressed by another method which left them flexible but gave them a smooth hard surface which could be easily written on. this material was called, from the name of the city, _pergamena_, from which we get our "parchment." this term is now practically reserved for sheepskins which are harder than other skins used for the purpose. parchment was long used for legal documents and is still used for college diplomas and other similar purposes. the general term, however, for this type of writing material, which was made from a variety of skins, is vellum. vellum, of course, came in sheets, and while a single sheet might be rolled as diplomas are to this day rolled for delivery, it was ordinarily used in the sheet form and played an important part in the development of the book. in the manufacture of vellum the skins of a variety of the smaller animals were used. for example, the famous alexandrian codex, one of the oldest known copies of the bible, is written on antelope skin. the skin was first carefully cleaned and the hair removed by soaking in a solution of lye. it was then thoroughly scraped with a knife to remove all fatty or soft parts. it was then rubbed down with pumice stone. finally it was polished with agate. paper is said to have been invented by the chinese at an unknown but very early date. it was introduced to europe by the arabs about the th century a.d. it was made of linen or rags and did not vary greatly from the rag paper of to-day. as the process of manufacture is fully described in the book on paper (no. ) of this series, description is not necessary here. paper was not much used in europe until the invention of printing. being much less substantial than vellum it did not commend itself for the making of manuscript books. paper was, however, immediately found to be much better suited to printing than any other material, and with the advent of the printed book it very quickly drove other writing materials out of common use. owing to its having some resemblance to papyrus it was given the old name, the word paper being derived from papyrus. late in the th century a new writing material made of wood or other flexible fibre treated with chemicals and loaded with clay was invented, to which we also give the name paper. this new material has almost entirely driven the old rag paper out of the field and is now the paper of commerce. much of this material is far inferior to rag paper. the inferior qualities of it, at any rate, lack durability even when not exposed to wear. it is good enough for the great number of uses where permanence is not required. it should only be used for books of permanent value, especially for records and historical material, when there can be no doubt of the care used in the manufacture and the quality of the fibre employed. a th-century book on rag paper is as good to-day as the day it was printed. most of the paper now in use possesses no such lasting qualities. in addition to these three leading materials, much use has been made of tablets (latin _tabella_). the commonest form of tablet was a thin board with one or both sides slightly cut away in such a way as to leave a narrow rim all around. the shallow depression inside this rim was then filled with wax sufficiently stiff to hold its position in ordinary temperatures but sufficiently soft to be easily marked with a sharp instrument called a stylus. the writing could be easily erased by rubbing with a hard smooth object, perhaps a ball at the reverse end of the stylus, and the wax was then ready for another impression. sometimes these tablets were made of wood covered with paint or a composition from which the writing could be easily washed off. this was the prototype of the schoolboy's slate of to-day and was used for the same purpose. while tablets were ordinarily used for writing of a purely temporary nature, they were occasionally used for permanent records and especially for correspondence. two or more tablets could be put together with the wooden sides out, bound, and sealed. in this way the writing was secure from observation or interference and the tablets were less liable to injury than papyrus or vellum. tablets were used at a very early period and continued to be used, especially for correspondence, all through the middle ages and into the th century. sometimes a considerable number of them would be fastened with thongs by one edge so as to form a continuous document which was one of the precursors of the modern book. the british museum has a document of this sort consisting of nine leaves about x inches. the writing on it is in shorthand, which is by no means a modern contrivance. this particular document is of greek origin and dates from about the d century a.d. the ancient egyptians, chinese, and other peoples of remote antiquity used inks made of charcoal or soot mixed with gum, glue, or varnish. similar compositions were used to a late date. the romans made extensive use of sepia, the coloring substance obtained from the cuttlefish. irongall inks, inks that consist of an iron salt and tannin, were invented by an th century monk named theophilus. of course these inks were mixed with coloring matter, and other paints and pigments were used in the preparation of manuscripts. the earlier printing inks were made of lampblack and linseed oil. the subject of printing inks is fully discussed in no. of this series of text-books. the ink was ordinarily applied by means of reeds which were either beaten out at the end into fine brushes so that the characters were painted rather than written, or sharpened and split at the end like a modern pen. later the quill of the goose or some other large bird, cut to a point and split, largely took the place of the reed and continued to be the writer's tool for centuries. in later years they have been displaced by the modern pen of steel or gold. it is interesting to note that bronze pens imitating quills were used by the romans and some specimens are still preserved. [illustration: mediæval scribe at work, showing bookcase and writing materials.] the mediæval scribe, or copyist, had in addition to his quill, ink, and vellum, a pair of compasses to prick off the spacing of his lines, a ruler and a sharpened instrument or pencil with which to draw the lines upon which he was to write, a penknife for mending his pens, an erasing knife for corrections, and pumice and agate, or other smooth substance, for smoothing the scratched surface. the accompanying illustration shows the mediæval scribe and his outfit in an extremely interesting manner. in the background appears the bookcase with its doors open showing the manner in which books were then kept, laid on their sides and not standing on their ends. the writer is busily at work upon his manuscript and scattered around him are the tools of his trade. the inkstand is on the table before him, the knife on one of the library shelves, the compasses, a ruler, a ruling pencil, a rubber for smoothing down the vellum, an open pen case, and other implements are all clearly shown. chapter iii _the evolution of the book_ as already indicated, ancient books were written on rolls of papyrus. the technical name of such a roll of papyrus was _volumen_ from which we get our word volume. with the increasing use of vellum as writing material came the book as we know it, originally called in latin the codex, from _caudex_, meaning a pile of boards such as may be seen in any lumberyard. the other latin word for book, _liber_, from which we get our word library and other allied terms, originally meant "bark" and is a curious preservation of the record of the use of bark as a writing material, a use, by the way, of which we have very little other knowledge. the origin of the book is rather interesting. one of its ancestors, as we have already seen, is the group of tablets bound together with thongs. another was probably the roll itself. when the manuscript roll was read it was necessary in order to handle it properly and save it from damage to reroll the part of the roll which had been read as the student proceeded. the consequence was that when the reading was finished, the volume was left rolled up in reverse order. consequently, before being replaced, the volume, if treated properly, had to be rolled back into its original position, a necessity which careless or lazy people found somewhat burdensome. it was discovered, however, that this could be avoided by folding the roll back and forth, creasing it in the spaces between the columns which were written at right angles to the length of the roll, the result being something like a book printed only on one side of the paper and with the edges uncut, like many chinese and japanese books of to-day. the real impulse, however, to the construction of books as distinguished from rolls came with the use of sheets of vellum. these could not be attached easily to make long rolls as could be done with the papyrus sheets, while even the single sheets were large enough to be unwieldy when spread out. therefore, when long compositions were to be written, the vellum sheets were folded once and laid inside each other just as ordinary note paper is prepared for sale at the present time. in order to provide against the scattering of these leaves they were sewed together through the crease at the back. the result was called a quire. [illustration: a roman student at his books, showing the bookcase with a reading stand on top and the use of the roll.] when the composition filled more than one quire, the quires were originally fastened together in a manner derived, probably, from the method of fastening tablets. that is to say, holes were stabbed through the margin and thongs were passed through the holes and tied at the back. this method of binding, however, had obvious disadvantages and it shortly occurred to some one that thongs, or strips of vellum, could be laid across the backs of the quires at right angles to their length and the stitches by which the quires were held together could be passed over these thongs. this method of binding the quires together is still used in making the best bindings. at this stage of proceedings the loosely fastened bundle of quires was not firmly held together and the unprotected folds of the sheets were exposed to wear. this was remedied by covering the backs with a strip of leather running lengthwise of the sheets. vellum, however, is particularly liable to warp and twist. this was prevented by putting the sheets between boards. the next step was to fasten the boards to the package of leaves by extending the edges of the leather strip on the back and fastening them to the edges of the boards, which were then fastened at the opposite edges by clasps. the bound book was then complete so far as utility was concerned. it was soon seen, however, that the extension of the leather back to cover the boards entirely added to the beauty and durability of the book and opened a wide field for the exercise of the decorator's art and taste. it is needless to say that great use was made of this opportunity. the beautiful products of the modern bookbinding art are familiar to us all. beautiful and costly as they are, they are commonplace as compared with the decoration of the early bookbinders. it must be remembered that these books were never intended to be crowded in serried ranks into shelves from which they should present only their backs to the world. they were precious treasures to be kept by themselves, handled reverently, laid on tables or shelves, often enclosed in bags. the covers, often blazing with jewels, were adorned by all the resources of many kinds of art. some were plates of ivory or rare wood covered with wonderful carvings. some were plates of chiseled gold or silver. some were brilliant with enamel. medallions and pictures in the best style of art ornamented them. gems of every kind, cut and uncut, added color and brilliancy to the effect. as late as when the great age of book-cover ornamentation was already past, henry iii of france decreed that ordinary citizens should not use more than four diamonds to the decoration of one book, but nobles might use five. the book as distinguished from the roll began to be popular in the first christian century. it had certain very great advantages. the rolls were never very long and long compositions or collections of compositions necessarily ran to many volumes. they were not easy to refer to as they had to be unrolled and then rolled up again whenever any passage was to be consulted. they were made of a material which was not durable in any but the very driest of climates. the book on the other hand, while heavy, could contain a very great amount of material in a single volume, could be easily referred to, and was made of much more durable material. for this reason the book form was used for legal documents and other purposes where ease of reference was particularly desired. the growth of the christian church especially stimulated the substitution of the book for the roll. christianity, unlike any of the religions with which it came into contact, except judaism, was a book religion. the christian was constantly referring to his scriptures for argument with his adversary as well as for his own edification and he wanted to be able to find his favorite passages readily. the conservatism of the jew prevented his changing the roll form of his scriptures. the pagan adhered to the rolls with their associations of classic culture. the final passing out of the roll and victory of the book are contemporary with the victory of christianity over paganism and its adoption as the religion of the empire. [illustration: byzantine binding of about a.d. (the plate is metal and the decorations are enamel and jewels.)] chapter iv _making the manuscripts_ as has already been said the papyrus manuscripts were ordinarily written in columns at right angles to the length of the roll. these columns were from two inches to three and a half inches in width. they were ordinarily written on one side of the roll only. as the older writing materials were always scarce and expensive, the backs of the rolls were sometimes utilized, but very rarely for the continuation of the matter written on the other side. if writing appears on the back of a roll, except in the rare cases where the handwriting is identical with that on the face, the subject matter is of an entirely different character from the original and may safely be regarded as much younger. the title was ordinarily placed at the end of the book although sometimes it appeared at the beginning or in both places. the title was sometimes written on the outside of the roll but more often was written on a tag which was attached to the end of the roll or to the stick upon which the papyrus was rolled. very wide margins were left at each end of the roll. the ends of the roll were trimmed, rubbed smooth and sometimes colored. the rolls were sometimes wrapped in cloth and sometimes put in cylindrical cases. whether or not this was done, the rolls were usually kept in cupboards piled on shelves; hence the usefulness of the tag bearing the title. when the vellum book took the place of the papyrus roll consideration was at once given to the peculiarities of the material. the hair side and the flesh side of the skin are different in color and texture. care was taken to arrange the sheets in quires in such way that the two pages which were under the eye together should be made on the same side of the skin. the outside page of a latin codex was ordinarily the skin side. by reversing the fold of the inner sheets of the quire, pages two and three would be the flesh side, four and five the hair side and so on. when paper began to come into use it was at first strengthened by having a covering sheet of vellum for each quire, very much as we use a sheet of cover paper on the outside of a pamphlet. a sheet of vellum was also sometimes inserted in the middle of the quire so that the paper would be stitched between the two vellum sheets. originally the narrow columns of the papyrus roll were transferred to the vellum page but gradually the lines were lengthened until the page had one column or at most two. for example, the sinaitic codex of the bible which dates from the th century has four columns to the page. the vatican codex also dated from the th century has three. the alexandrian codex which dates from the very late th or the early th has two, while the codex of beza which dates from the th century has but one column to the page. in order to prevent mistakes in the putting together of the quires a quire mark was put on each quire, sometimes on the first sheet and sometimes on the last sheet. in the th century catch-words were used to show the connection of the quires. the scribes took great pains with their manuscripts and ruled them carefully before writing. the lines were pricked off carefully by the use of compasses and ruled with a stylus which made a mark or crease on the vellum. this was ordinarily applied with force enough to make a raised line on the back of the page and sometimes with force enough to show through two or three pages. later these rulings were colored with inks of brilliant hues and formed part of the decoration of the manuscript. it has been claimed that a certain manuscript, probably dating from the th century, shows signs of having been ruled with a lead pencil. this is very doubtful, however. the first distinct mention of lead pencils which we have is about . these pencils were made of wood and strips of natural graphite. the older literary manuscripts were written entirely in capital letters without any spacing between the words. the cursive or running hand with the letters smaller and more or less connected appears in manuscripts of later date. in the older manuscripts marks were introduced to show the ends of sentences and occasionally dots were inserted to mark the separation of words where otherwise the meaning would be ambiguous. these marks, however, are not related to our modern punctuation. the tendency to separate words appears first in non-literary documents, such as legal documents or matters of record. as the tendency to separate words developed at first only the long words were separated and for a long time short words were connected with those before them as is still done in italian. it was not until the th century that the custom of spacing all words became general and then only in latin manuscripts. the correct separation of words in greek manuscripts was never established until the manuscripts themselves were superseded by printing in the th century. the paragraph appears as early as the th century b.c. it was generally indicated, however, by a horizontal mark rather than by spacing. the indenting of the paragraph came later and was followed by the use of the larger letter, first employed to indicate the beginning of the sentences. the development of the sentence itself as a device in composition was somewhat similar to that of the paragraph. it is difficult to tell where the use of punctuation begins. some very early manuscripts show the rudiments of it. the first punctuation mark was the stop at the end of the period. this was originally two dots, or our colon. when this became one dot it was at first the lower one that was omitted so that the second form of the period is a dot level with the top of the letter. the period, colon, and comma were each represented by a single dot, the value depending upon whether it was on a level with the top, the middle, or the bottom of the letter. during the middle ages a system of punctuation was developed approximately as we now have it. unfortunately words had the same tendency to refuse to fit the line that bothers the modern compositor. the scribe, not being limited by the resources of a font of type, did not hesitate to crowd his letters or reduce them in size in order to get a word into a line. he also made use of various devices of abbreviating words and combining letters to produce the same result. these devices, however, were not very satisfactory and division of words was always more or less practiced. the greeks usually divided after a vowel with no regard to syllables. they even divided monosyllables in this way. the romans, however, always practiced syllabic division very much as we do to-day. another form of division of the text was what is called calometry, that is to say, the breaking up of the text into short clauses or sense lines to facilitate oral reading. this is done particularly in cases of orations, the bible, and similar compositions largely used for oral reading. as in the papyrus, the title was ordinarily inserted at the end and accompanied by some account of the work, place of copying, copyist, date, or other information. this sort of appendix was called a colophon. the practice of writing colophons was taken over by the early printers and is the source of much of our most valuable information concerning the early products of the press. occasionally the title of the work was given at the beginning although the custom of beginning the work with the statement of its title, developing into the title page as we know it, did not become general until some time after the invention of printing. occasionally a manuscript was even furnished with running titles on the page heads. the pages were not numbered until after the invention of printing. after the earliest times quotations were indicated by ticks on the margin or by indented paragraphs. sometimes the substance of the quotation was written in a smaller hand or otherwise distinguished from the body of the text. scribes were by no means infallible and corrections are not uncommon. erasures on papyrus were difficult, if not impossible, and therefore other means of correction had to be used. this is particularly the case because writing material was too expensive to be wasted and a copyist's mistake could not be permitted to spoil a roll of a papyrus or a sheet of vellum. in the case of vellum, however, if the mistake were immediately discovered the ink could be washed off with a sponge. if, however, the mistake were discovered only on revision after the ink had bitten into the vellum, it was necessary to use the knife and to restore the surface as well as possible by rubbing it with some smooth hard substance like the rubber shown in the illustration on page . superfluous letters or words were sometimes removed by drawing a pen through them and sometimes removal was indicated by dots, or small marks, which might be over the letters, under them, or even in the open spaces of the letters themselves. attempts were occasionally made to make one letter over into another to correct a mistake. omitted passages or notes are inserted in the margin with some indication of the place where they should be read in the text. abbreviations and contractions were very extensively used, partly to avoid labor and partly to save material. phrases of frequent occurrence and perfectly well-known meaning were indicated simply by initials like the familiar s. p. q. r., senatus populusque romanus, the roman senate and people, or the s. s. a. b. s. m. used by spaniards to close letters, meaning "your faithful servant who kisses your hands." letters commonly occurring together were elided and abbreviated, as was done to a limited extent as late as the th century, at which period we see such abbreviations as yt=that. it may be interesting to note that y in this combination and the similar combination "ye," used as the article, is not the semi-vowel y but is the survival, or revival, of an anglo-saxon letter of very similar form called "thorn" and equivalent in value to th. in the "yt" then, we have the y or thorn substituted for th and the vowel elided, but the sign should be pronounced "that." the sign "ye" as in the familiar phrase of the posters "ye olde folkes' concerte," should always be pronounced "the" and never like the pronoun ye. another result of the expensiveness of writing material was the practice of erasing whole works in order that the vellum might be used over again. this erasing was done with a knife or pumice stone and when resurfaced by rubbing the vellum could be readily used a second time. a manuscript thus treated is called a palimpsest. the pious monks of the middle ages, naturally believing that the lives of the saints and other religious works were of more importance than the works of pagan orators, philosophers, and historians, or even than old copies of the bible which had been superseded by newer and better decorated ones, made extensive use of old manuscripts in this way. fortunately, however, it is possible by careful treatment to restore the original writing at least sufficiently to make it possible to decipher it. in this way a considerable number of extremely valuable texts which would otherwise have been entirely lost have been recovered from palimpsests. the reference just made to decoration reminds us that the makers of manuscripts, particularly during the middle ages, took enormous pride in their work and were as anxious to produce sumptuous books as the most ambitious publisher of to-day and were often far more successful. the scribe who was to make a fine manuscript chose his vellum with great care. he laid out his work with compass and ruler with the utmost precision. he was careful that his ink and his pigments should be of the most brilliant color and the finest quality. he looked well to the care of his pen and inscribed each letter with the patient care of the most skillful engrosser of to-day. the development of the sentence and paragraph had brought the use of letters of larger sizes to mark these divisions. these, especially the paragraph initials, afforded an endless field for his ingenuity and the exercise of his artistic ability. a great initial letter might be made in any fanciful shape of which he could think. it might become a part of a beautifully executed miniature. it might be surrounded by a mass of gorgeous ornamentation extending to the bottom or the other margin of the page and enriched by everything beautiful or grotesque of which the writer could think. all this ornamentation was often executed in gold and colors and was one of the chief methods of artistic expression of the middle ages. in addition to these decorations the ancient books dating from late roman times onward were often illustrated, sometimes profusely so. full page pictures were inserted illustrating the text or giving the portraits of persons referred to in it. the oldest of these pictures are in a bad state of preservation on account of the crude methods of the artists. the background was first painted in a solid color. a figure, for instance, would then be put on in another color, clothing would be painted over that, armor over clothing and so on. the picture being thus built up in layers of different paints it was very liable to flake off, leaving only the background. illustrations dating from the introduction of a better technique are still very beautiful. no language could adequately describe the beauty and the richness of these decorations, or illuminations as they are termed. they look out to us to-day from the yellowing vellum with all the brilliancy of color and vigor of conception which they originally possessed. they are not only beautiful in themselves but they are a valuable source of information concerning the life of the middle ages. in those days the painters of pictures made no attempt at archæological accuracy. if they were illuminating a bible they represented abraham and moses, pharaoh and solomon, jesus and paul and goliath in the costume of the king, priest, citizen, or soldier of the painter's own day. their method of treatment of their subjects, the subjects chosen, the use of materials in ornamentation, every detail of these decorations is eloquent of the life and thought of the ages in which they were produced. chapter v _ancient and mediæval libraries_ books involved libraries. the book is written to preserve a record and this involves the preservation of the book itself. consequently almost all of the centers of the world's civilization were at the same time the homes of great collections of books, or libraries. the ancient egyptians had many such although we have the record of but one. rameses the great, who has been generally, though probably erroneously, identified as the pharaoh of the exodus, but who probably lived within about a century of that time, housed a great library in his palace at thebes. such a library, of course, would have consisted of papyrus rolls and must have been rich in that learning of the egyptians which the old chronicle tells us was familiar to moses. what would we not give if we could only find those precious rolls in some of the corners which the archæologists are so busily exploring and which are constantly yielding new stores of information about that ancient civilization? some centuries later two of the assyrian kings, sennacherib and assurbanipal, collected a great library which has been in large part recovered. such a library, as we have seen, consisted of clay tablets and these tablets were kept in large earthenware jars. the contents of the library were partly contemporary but more of it consisted of copies of ancient works. many thousands of these texts have been recovered from the ruins of babylon and are now being translated. they cover the whole field of literary activity, religion, law, history, grammar, science, magic, and romance. one of the old israelitish cities, near hebron, is called kirjath-sepher, or city of books. both the city and the name, however, antedate the jewish occupation of palestine and are probably memorials of a time when this city was a center of that assyrian culture which covered the entire region later known as palestine. the classic civilization, with its great development of literary activity, of course involved the formation of libraries in all the more important cities, as such places were the natural centers of culture. we know something of the libraries of athens, antioch, ephesus, pergamus, rome, alexandria and constantinople. the most famous of these was the great collection, or rather collections, of books at alexandria. collectively these rivalled in size some of the great modern libraries, a very remarkable fact when we consider the conditions under which books were made at that time. undoubtedly practically the entire literary output of the classic civilization was contained in these collections. unfortunately no traces of them remain. accident and conquest caused their entire destruction. the earlier historians told a pitiful tale of the wanton destruction of the library by the mohammedan conquerors who in their fanaticism destroyed as useless or harmful all works not devoted to the dissemination of their own doctrines. while it is probably true that the mohammedans were responsible for a wholesale destruction, it is probable that the library had already suffered sadly by the destruction by fire of one or more of its separate collections and that what was destroyed in their time was only the remains of the former splendid collection. the library of constantinople, being later than the others in its formation, probably had more direct effect on the culture of mediæval and modern times than any of the preceding ones. in addition to these great public or semi-public libraries, there were of course great numbers of private libraries. wealthy and cultivated men throughout the roman empire and beyond had their private collections, as wealthy and cultivated men do to-day. while the illiterate classes were proportionally much more numerous than they are in modern communities, and the use of books was limited to a comparatively small portion of the population, the small educated class was highly cultivated and keenly interested in the reading and ownership of books. none of these early collections survives even in any existing fragments. the devastating wars of the first christian centuries destroyed all such perishable things. the assyrian records not being on perishable material survived the destruction of the buildings in which they were contained and remained buried until brought to light by recent excavations. the egyptian records have survived partly because they were so largely in the nature of inscriptions on the walls of the great temples and the carefully constructed tombs, and partly because so many of them were sheltered in the resting places of the dead. not only were the mummies wrapped in cloth and papyrus inscribed with the book of the dead and other egyptian texts, but many documents and papers were buried with the bodies. it was the custom of the egyptians to bury with the dead all their personal papers including unopened letters and papers belonging to other persons which happened to be in the possession of the deceased at the time of his death. many a letter has thus been read for the first time by some modern archæologist years or more after the death of both sender and receiver. we undoubtedly owe to the christian church, and especially to the institution of monasticism, the preservation of so much of the ancient literature as we now possess, as well as the preservation of the spirit of learning and that impulse to create literature out of which grew the literatures of mediæval and modern times. as has already been stated, the monasteries became the centers of literary activity. the studying, copying, and creation of books was a recognized part of the duty of the monks. in society as constituted after the fall of the empire and far into the mediæval ages the monks were the only educated people in the community. the nobles were rough unlettered soldiers. even kings were unable to read and write. the business of the state was largely in the hands of churchmen who filled the offices of civil administration, conducted the legal business of the community, served as its physicians and, in short, discharged nearly all those functions which required education and literary training. the mercantile class knew only enough to keep track of their business by the help of mechanical contrivances and the rudest methods of accounting. the great mass of mechanics and agricultural laborers were entirely illiterate. king and peasant alike depended upon the clergy for their knowledge of past transactions, national records, and the teachings of religion. under these circumstances the monasteries naturally built up libraries. originally these libraries began with copies of the scriptures or of books containing portions of them, such as the gospels and the psalms. to these were added mass books, collections of the writings of the fathers of the church and the sermons of famous preachers, volumes of commentaries on the scriptures and the works of the fathers, and lives of the saints, and, in course of time, treatises on theological subjects. even the life of a monastic community, however, is not all religious. consequently we find the monks writing chronicles which were the beginnings of history. these chronicles originally were merely dry statements of the events which happened in the monastery, the community in which it was located, or even the country. at first dry notebooks without historical perspective and with very little detail, they gradually developed into something like a historical narrative of occurrences with estimates of character and statements as to the causes and effects, as well as the mere occurrence, of events. then came works on natural history, medicine, music, grammar, in fact all the matters in which men are interested. poetry struggled for expression and the romantic adventures of the real men and women of the time stimulated imagination to the production of tales and romances. for historical information and for literary models the writers looked to the great authors of a previous age, and attention was given to the copying of such remains of ancient literature as had survived the fall of the old civilization. practically every manuscript that we have of the ancient authors is the salvage from some old library of a mediæval monastery. every religious house came to have its library, or scriptorium, which was at once the place for the making and the keeping of books. some brother especially suited for the task, sometimes even the abbot himself, was in charge of the library and of the brothers who worked there. sometimes the entire work on a manuscript would be done by a single man. at other times there was a division of labor. one brother, for example, would pick out the vellum, see to the condition of the skins, arrange the quires, and rule them with compass and stylus. another, or a group of others, would write the plain text. in the case of a large book, a certain number of quires might be given to each one of a group of copyists. a third would put in the illuminated capitals and the pictures, or either of them, while still another would examine the completed manuscript, comparing it with the original and correcting any errors which might be discovered. to the artist and illuminator this work was undoubtedly delightful but to the man who had to do the drudgery of mere copying of long works, it was undoubtedly a wearisome task. every effort was made to incite these men to care and patience by magnifying the importance of their work and especially by representing it as a work of religion. it was held that the making of books, especially books of religion, was in a very special way agreeable to god and that salvation might be obtained in this manner when other means failed. it was even taught that there was a special relation between the amount of writing done and the number and magnitude of the sins to be atoned for. a story was widely circulated which is interesting for the light which it throws upon the childlike and literal way in which the things of the spirit were regarded by the mediæval mind. it was said that a certain man entered a monastery with his soul burdened by many and grievous sins. he was set to the copying of a bible and in due time completed the task alone. the task brought him salvation because the number of letters in the bible exceeded by one the number of his sins. in time some of these libraries came to be of very considerable size even by modern standards. a few of them remain almost intact to our own day. the mediæval librarians, as was proper considering the value of their charges, were very solicitous about the care of their books. readers were warned to handle the books with care, to be careful about turning the leaves and especially to keep their fingers off the ink. evidently the ancient readers had the tendency common to unskillful readers everywhere to trace the lines with their fingers as they read. the books were classified by subject matter, numbered, and catalogued. some of these ancient catalogues showing the exact contents of the monastic libraries and the contemporary ideas of classification, not always the same as our own, are still preserved. an interesting list remains of nine books brought over to england by st. augustine the missionary which formed the first library of christ church in canterbury. it consisted of a bible in two volumes, a psalter, a book of gospels, lives of the apostles, lives of the martyrs and an exposition or commentary on the gospels and epistles. books were loaned quite extensively. this was especially true among the monasteries of the same order. these orders naturally looked to certain of their houses as the leading or mother establishments in various localities. these leading establishments were often the actual mother houses from which others had been created by colonization, besides being the seats of the high officials of the order. naturally the age and wealth of these central houses enabled them to possess large and valuable libraries. it was their duty to see that the smaller houses were provided with correct copies of the rules and regulations of the order, service books which it used, and other valuable material, as well as to assist them to secure more strictly literary material. therefore some of these places became veritable circulating libraries for the subordinate houses. in addition to this there was a certain amount of loaning between the orders and persons outside the orders both clerical and, at a later period, lay. these loans were carefully registered and regulated and excepting when occurring in the regular discharge of duty were guarded by the most vigilant precautions. the books were, of course, carefully provided with identification marks. loan was made a matter of record and pledges were exacted for the safe return of the volume. this pledge was sometimes the deposit of a manuscript supposed to be of equal value, sometimes a mortgage on property, and sometimes a deposit of money or jewels. in spite of all these precautions, however, loans were not infrequently abused. borrowed volumes were sometimes never returned. sometimes the identification marks were removed, as existing manuscripts show. sometimes passages were erased from a borrowed book because the borrower considered them heretical. ancient borrowers were also addicted to one of the most exasperating of modern literary crimes, the scribbling of their own opinions on the margins of borrowed books. valuable books were kept chained to the desks which were provided for those who had occasion to consult them. the old library of durham cathedral contains many of the old volumes, still chained to their original places. in the early days of bible translation in england the huge folio bibles of the period were chained in the churches where all could consult them. all this precaution, of course, is testimony to the great value of books at this period. it is true that the labor of the monks was not paid but they had to be supported while at their work and owing to the time taken to write, or rather paint, a manuscript, for it was really rather painting than writing, this was no small item. the materials used were also expensive. parchment was costly and tended to become more so as the increase of literary activity and the multiplication of books increased the demand for it. considerable expense was also involved in the colored inks and especially in the gold which was used so lavishly in the decorations. monasteries and rich men regarded manuscripts as among their chiefest treasures. special provision was made for the purchase of materials and the maintenance of the monastery libraries. the name of the generous benefactor who gave a book or, more commonly, the material for one, was inscribed in the book, often with a request for the prayers of the reader, and was borne upon the honorable roll of the benefactors of the house. large sums of money and even estates were given for choice manuscripts and manuscripts were considered worthy gifts for kings. we have a record of the th century in england of fifty marks being paid for a bible. this sum of money, taking into account the very great difference in purchasing power, would represent at least $ of the money of to-day. as time went on enlightened kings like alfred of england and the emperor charlemagne patronized and forwarded learning. laymen, particularly kings and great nobles, began to collect libraries of their own. the national library of france was begun by king john, who reigned from to , who started it with twenty volumes. his son charles v brought the number up to . it contained books on devotion, astrology, law, medicine, history, and a few classics. the revival of learning in the th century, as might be expected, gave a great stimulus to the production of manuscripts and at the time of the invention of printing from movable types in the middle of the th century the manufacture of manuscripts was going on rapidly and there were many great libraries in existence. matthias corvinus, king of hungary in the th century, had a library of nearly , volumes. duke frederick of urbino in italy had one nearly as large. duke frederick had thirty-four copyists regularly employed in his library. it is interesting to note that this library contained perfect copies of practically every book known to be in existence at that time. this fact throws an interesting light on the extent of the world's literature so recently as years ago. among the earliest of the libraries formed outside of monasteries were those collected by the arabs of north africa and spain. although some of the early mohammedan conquerors were ignorant and bigoted fanatics like the destroyer of alexandria, the arabs, or saracens as they are sometimes called, as a whole were a highly civilized people of great culture in art, science, and literature. they were far in advance of their christian neighbors and continued to be so until their final overthrow in spain by ferdinand and isabella about the time of the discovery of america. the growth of the universities from the th century onward played a great part in the multiplication of books and the growth of libraries. then, as now, the library was the heart of the university. even more than now the students depended on its contents. obviously only the richest students could buy any great number of books, and, equally obviously, every student needed to use them, bought what he could, borrowed the rest, and became a book collector for the rest of his life. the university libraries grew by purchase, by copies made on the spot, and by bequests. then, as now, there were in every university a good number of men "working their way." the copying of manuscripts was their great resource. naturally all this demand caused the production of many very badly executed manuscripts. this and other abuses were, however, controlled to a great extent by the university authorities who assumed control over the publication and sale of books. old books, of course, could be freely sold, subject only to careful checking up of the correctness of the copy. new books had to be read three days in succession before the heads of the university or other public judges, always churchmen, and had to receive their sanction before being copied and put on sale. this was done by the stationer who derived his name from the latin word _statio_ meaning a shop. the stationers made, sold, and rented books and sold writing materials and the like very much as at present. they were stringently regulated by the universities. they must be men of learning and character; must bind themselves to obey the laws of the university; must offer no copy for sale unless it was approved; must sell at rates fixed by the university; must purchase only books sanctioned by the university; and must loan books to those too poor to buy them at rates fixed by the university. this careful regulation of the book trade of the university towns was originally intended for the best of purposes and was productive of much good. unfortunately it also opened the door to much evil. it established the principle of control of the press, a principle always destructive of liberty and progress. by long use this control came to appear quite the right and normal thing. used at first to secure the interests of learning and the protection of scholars, it became at length the powerful weapon of party in church and state. it was used alternately to silence protestant, catholic and dissenter, and to muzzle all discussion of social and political questions. control of the printing press became at last the greatest enemy of civilization, freedom, and enlightenment alike in the old world and in the new and it remained until largely swept away by the movement which culminated in the french revolution of . some of the university libraries early grew to generous size. that of the sorbonne, for example, numbered volumes in . this particular library consisted very largely of religious literature, as the main interest of the sorbonne of that day was theological. other university libraries were of wider range. many of the old university libraries are yet in existence. chapter vi _the dawn of a new era_ methods of inscribing words or characters upon vellum or other writing material other than by the toilsome process of handwriting had long been in existence. among the oldest of human remains are stamps and seals for the impression of symbols, words, or signatures upon plastic substances, as the impression of a signet or seal is now made on sealing wax softened by heat. originally these seals were incised so that the impression was left in raised characters on the receiving substance, as is now usually the case with seals and signets. later the designs were sometimes cut in relief so that the figure resulting from the impression was not raised in the substance but pressed into it. from this it was but a step to put some coloring substance on the raised part of the seal or die and so print it on an unyielding surface such as vellum or papyrus, as hand stamps are now used for a great variety of purposes. documents were signed in this way by persons who were either too illiterate to write their names or too occupied with business to take the time to sign the great numbers of documents which were brought before them. the peculiar characteristics of the chinese alphabet early prompted this inventive people to the use of these types, for such these devices were. the chinese are said to have used movable types made of porcelain at a very early period. the use of the seal or the stamp bearing a single letter naturally led to its enlargement and to the inclusion of more than one letter on the same stamp. as early as the th century the chinese were printing books from wooden plates on which were cut in relief all the characters which were to appear upon a single leaf. this was nothing more or less than our modern stereotype plate, excepting that it was carved by hand on wood instead of being made of metal by a mechanical process. there is, however, no evidence whatever connecting these chinese essays at printing, whether from blocks or types, with european printing. this last appears to have had an entirely independent origin and development. in europe, as has already been noted, stamps were used for signatures and other purposes. it has been observed that certain manuscripts of the th century show initials so uniform as to appear to be stamp or die impressions. it can hardly be regarded as clearly established, however, that this is the case. as early as the first half of the th century bookbinders used dies both in relief and in intaglio, that is having the design cut into the surface of the die. none of these devices, however, appears to have been used for the purpose of multiplying impressions as is now done with the printing press. at a comparatively early period, probably as early as the first part of the th century, there came a call for the dissemination of knowledge in somewhat rudimentary form among the common people. at an earlier period still this desire had expressed itself in the elaborate sculpture and stained glass with which the churches were decorated. the church itself was the poor man's bible and his library the lives of saints and martyrs. the story was told to him by the priest. it was visualized by the artist. conventional types or attributes of biblical and other personages were adopted so that the peasant or the artisan could recognize anywhere the figure of christ, of one of the evangelists, of moses, or of the patron saint of his church or city. the clergy and the lettered classes had long been accustomed to the pictures which not only decorated but interpreted the pages of their books. it was only natural that there should be a desire to have at least these pictures in the hands of the people so as to reinforce in the home the teachings of the church. the multiplication of these pictures, so costly and so tedious in their production, was clearly out of the question, but why not make a stamp big enough to carry a picture of a saint or a simple biblical scene, make an impression from it on vellum and so produce a rude but cheap picture which could be multiplied indefinitely and sold at a low rate? no one knows who invented this idea or who first practised making these picture sheets. we know, however, that such sheets were printed as early as the th century. originally printed upon cloth or vellum, by the middle of the th century they came to be printed on paper, and by the early part of the th they had become very common. circulated at first only in single leaves, at a later period the leaves were folded and combined into quires as in other books and we have the fully developed block book as it is called, each leaf being printed from a single plate. some of these books were printed in many editions and had enormous circulation. at a later period a few lines of explanatory text were added to the picture. in some cases these lines were part of the plate. in other cases they were written and in some they were even printed, as the use of the block book survived the invention of typographical printing. these block books were exactly like the picture books which we now place in the hands of little children. they were to be looked at rather than read. the meager explanatory text, as in the case of the child's book, served the double purpose of a simple reading lesson and of an aid to the explanation of the book for the benefit of the owner by some wiser person. one of the most popular of these books was the biblia pauperum, or poor man's bible. this contained a large number of pictures covering the more striking incidents of the biblical story. these were not arranged in any particular order, as the idea of historical study of the scriptures had not yet made its appearance. a sample page for instance, shows an architectural design. the larger part of the page is occupied by three panels. above and below the middle panel are two smaller ones leaving four blank rectangles at the corners of the page. the middle one of the larger panels shows jesus rising from the tomb while the other two show samson carrying away the gates of gaza and jonah being disgorged by the whale. each of the two smaller panels at top and bottom is occupied by two figures, the four being intended to represent david, jacob, hosea, and zephaniah. fortunately the "portraits" are labelled as these biblical worthies are represented in the ordinary costume of well-to-do citizens of the early part of the th century. [illustration: page from the second edition of the poor man's bible, about .] this and other block books continued to be reprinted in type after the invention of typography. one block book and one only, so far as is known, was without pictures. this was a latin grammar commonly known as donatus, from its author the famous roman grammarian donatus of the th century. this was the one latin grammar in use in the middle ages, when latin was the foundation of all culture. it was, therefore, very extensively used and it is supposed that more copies were printed of it than of any other block book. it has the further distinction of being the only block book printed on vellum. ordinarily the desire for cheapness and the much greater ease of handling the material caused the block books to be printed on paper. the importance of the donatus as a book of reference and the hard usage it was likely to receive at the hands of schoolboys caused the use of the more expensive but more durable material. particular interest attaches to one block book called the speculum humanæ salvationis or "mirror of salvation." in a way this book is the connecting link between block books and type printed books. there is no copy of this book in existence printed entirely from wooden blocks. most of the early editions are printed from movable types with a block printed illustration at the head of each page. one of them, however, has twenty pages of the text out of the sixty-two which constituted the entire book printed from wood blocks. these twenty pages are inserted at intervals among the others, and how and why they came there is a riddle beyond guessing. it has been conjectured by some that the long-held belief that gutenberg was a polisher of mirrors is erroneous and that the reference in certain of the scanty documents concerning him to business about mirrors may refer to attempts on his part to print an edition of this book, "the mirror of salvation." in making a block book the design was cut on the side of a flat piece of wood, not on the end of the block as was the later practice in wood engraving. sometimes, as has been said, a design thus cut was only a picture. sometimes it was both picture and text. the design was cut in relief, that is to say the wood was cut away leaving the design to be impressed upon the paper raised. the block was then thoroughly wetted with a thin, watery, pale brown material much resembling distemper. a sheet of damp paper was laid on it and the back of the paper was carefully rubbed with a dabber or burnisher. it is probable that other inks were employed, especially for vellum, and it is also extremely probable that a rude press, ancestor of the modern printing press, was used to produce the impressions in many cases. the resulting book consisted of sheets printed on one side only, although there are a few very late examples in which printing appears on both sides. the pictures were commonly roughly colored by hand. playing cards were at one time supposed to have been the first products of this method of printing. it was naturally supposed that the small and comparatively simple design on the face of the playing card might be regarded as the original from which the more elaborate picture and book might be developed. this opinion has now, however, been abandoned, as it is known that the earliest playing cards were hand drawn and painted and that the block printed playing cards which we have date from the th century when block printing was very common. it has already been said that these blocks contained not only pictures but text, one very important block book consisting of text alone. what determined the form of the letters composing this text? there were four types of handwriting recognized in the manuscripts of the period which we are considering. the first was the book hand. this was the recognized type of script used in the production of books and it existed in two forms, the set or upright in which the letters were carefully formed, held upright, and without ligatures or connecting strokes between letters, and the cursive in which the letters were sloped and ligatured. the second type was the church hand, used for ecclesiastical manuscripts and familiar to us as the gothic or black letter. this also appears in two forms. manifestly the gothic does not lend itself to a cursive form so that the two types which appear are the set or upright, similar in its characteristics to the corresponding book hand, and the ornamental or calligraphic which, as its name implies, was an ornamental type of the set hand. the third type was the letter hand, used by persons who were not professional penmen in correspondence and the ordinary uses to which handwriting is applied. the fourth was the court or charter hand. this hand was used for court records, deeds, charters, and all sorts of legal documents. the first two types were highly conventionalized and left very little to the "hand" as we now say of the individual writer. the third, as might be supposed, while following certain general models offers all the peculiarities of individual handwriting at any age. the fourth is intermediate in regard to its conventionality between the first and second types and the third. these recognized conventional types of handwriting were imitated in the cutting of the blocks. they were also imitated when the letters, instead of being cut in groups on a block to form an inscription, were cut on the ends of single types to be used in printing. the first printing, whether on blocks or from types, was an imitation of manuscript and this determined the letter faces. the early th century, then, sees everything prepared for the invention and use of movable types for printing purposes. there is a greater demand for books than the hard working copyists can supply. the idea of making impressions from stamps has become very familiar through long use. ink and paper suitable for these impressions have been discovered and are obtainable at a reasonable price. the rude presses used for so many other purposes have been adapted to the taking of these impressions. everything is ready for the invention which is to revolutionize the intellectual life of mankind. supplementary reading the story of the alphabet. edward clodd. the story of books. g. b. rawlings. books in manuscript. falconer madan. books and their makers in the middle ages. vol. i. g. h. putnam. encyclopædia britannica. eleventh edition. articles: alphabet (very scholarly and in large part suitable only for very advanced students.) paleography. manuscript. book. libraries. bookbinding. bookselling. papyrus. paper. ink, and many others which will suggest themselves during the study of the articles named. review questions . name some of the earliest devices for communicating ideas to the absent. . what was the most important of these devices, and why? . what is an ideogram? . what is a phonogram? . tell how phonograms became alphabets. . who were the egyptians and what kind of characters did they use? . who were the assyrio-babylonians and what kind of characters did they use? . who were the cretans and what kind of characters did they use? . who invented the alphabet? . where did they get the material for the alphabet? . what is papyrus, and how was it made? . what is vellum, and how was it made? . who invented paper, and when? . who introduced it into europe, and when? . what made the use of paper common, and why? . what writing material was invented in the th century? . what are some of its advantages and disadvantages? . what are tablets and how were they made and used? . what kind of ink did the ancient people use? . when were irongall inks invented? . what kind of ink did the early printers use? . what did the ancient writers write with? . what was the form of the ancient papyrus book? . what effect did the use of vellum have on the form of the book? . describe the evolution of the bound book. . when did books become popular as compared with rolls? . what were some of the advantages of the book as compared with the roll? . what can you tell of the make-up and appearance of a manuscript roll? . what can you tell of the make-up and appearance of a vellum book? . what can you say of the lettering, spacing, etc. of early manuscripts? . give some account of the introduction of (a) word separation, (b) paragraphs, (c) sentences, (d) punctuation. . what did the writer do when the words did not fit the line? . what can you say about titles, running heads, and numbering of pages? . how were quotations indicated? . how were mistakes treated? . what use was made of abbreviations and contractions? . how do you pronounce "ye" and "yt," abbreviations for "the" and "that," and why? . what is a palimpsest? . what did the old writers do to make their books beautiful? . what is the present value of the book decorations of the middle ages? . what are the oldest libraries we know anything about? . what is the oldest one of which any part has been preserved? . what was the most famous library of classical time, and what became of it? . have we any remnants of the libraries of the classical period? why? . to what do we owe the preservation of classical literature? . how did the monasteries come to have libraries? . what was the scriptorium of a monastery? . how was the work done there? . how were books cared for in the middle ages? . how were they loaned and under what conditions? . what can you say of the value of books in the middle ages, both in money and in sentiment? . who besides the monasteries had libraries? . what had the universities to do with the growth of libraries? . what did the universities do to secure the multiplication of books and the correctness of copies? . how old is the practice of marking letters or words by some sort of stamp? . what early experiments did the chinese make in printing? . did these experiments have any effect in europe? . what is a block book? . when were block books first made, and why? . describe some famous block books. . describe the process of making a block book. . what determined the form of the letters composing the text of block books? . describe the four types of handwriting and their principal varieties. . tell how and why the first half of the th century was ready for the invention of typography. typographic technical series for apprentices the following list of publications, comprising the typographic technical series for apprentices, has been prepared under the supervision of the committee on education of the united typothetae of america for use in trade classes, in course of printing instruction, and by individuals. each publication has been compiled by a competent author or group of authors, and carefully edited, the purpose being to provide the printers of the united states--employers, journeymen, and apprentices--with a comprehensive series of handy and inexpensive compendiums of reliable, up-to-date information upon the various branches and specialties of the printing craft, all arranged in orderly fashion for progressive study. the publications of the series are of uniform size, x inches. their general make-up, in typography, illustrations, etc., has been, as far as practicable, kept in harmony throughout. a brief synopsis of the particular contents and other chief features of each volume will be found under each title in the following list. each topic is treated in a concise manner, the aim being to embody in each publication as completely as possible all the rudimentary information and essential facts necessary to an understanding of the subject. care has been taken to make all statements accurate and clear, with the purpose of bringing essential information within the understanding of beginners in the different fields of study. wherever practicable, simple and well-defined drawings and illustrations have been used to assist in giving additional clearness to the text. in order that the pamphlets may be of the greatest possible help for use in trade-school classes and for self-instruction, each title is accompanied by a list of review questions covering essential items of the subject matter. a short glossary of technical terms belonging to the subject or department treated is also added to many of the books. these are the official text-books of the united typothetae of america. address all orders and inquiries to committee on education, united typothetae of america, chicago, illinois, u. s. a. part i--_types, tools, machines, and materials_ . +type: a primer of information+ by a. a. stewart relating to the mechanical features of printing types; their sizes, font schemes, etc., with a brief description of their manufacture. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +compositors' tools and materials+ by a. a. stewart a primer of information about composing sticks, galleys, leads, brass rules, cutting and mitering machines, etc. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +type cases, composing room furniture+ by a. a. stewart a primer of information about type cases, work stands, cabinets, case racks, galley racks, standing galleys, etc. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +imposing tables and lock-up appliances+ by a. a. stewart describing the tools and materials used in locking up forms for the press, including some modern utilities for special purposes. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +proof presses+ by a. a. stewart a primer of information about the customary methods and machines for taking printers' proofs. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +platen printing presses+ by daniel baker a primer of information regarding the history and mechanical construction of platen printing presses, from the original hand press to the modern job press, to which is added a chapter on automatic presses of small size. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +cylinder printing presses+ by herbert l. baker being a study of the mechanism and operation of the principal types of cylinder printing machines. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +mechanical feeders and folders+ by william e. spurrier the history and operation of modern feeding and folding machines; with hints on their care and adjustments. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +power for machinery in printing houses+ by carl f. scott a treatise on the methods of applying power to printing presses and allied machinery with particular reference to electric drive. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +paper cutting machines+ by niel gray, jr. a primer of information about paper and card trimmers, hand-lever cutters, power cutters, and other automatic machines for cutting paper. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +printers' rollers+ by a. a. stewart a primer of information about the composition, manufacture, and care of inking rollers. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +printing inks+ by philip ruxton their composition, properties and manufacture (reprinted by permission from circular no. , united states bureau of standards); together with some helpful suggestions about the everyday use of printing inks by philip ruxton. pp.; review questions; glossary. . +how paper is made+ by william bond wheelwright a primer of information about the materials and processes of manufacturing paper for printing and writing. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +relief engravings+ by joseph p. donovan brief history and non-technical description of modern methods of engraving; woodcut, zinc plate, halftone; kind of copy for reproduction; things to remember when ordering engravings. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +electrotyping and stereotyping+ by harris b. hatch and a. a. stewart a primer of information about the processes of electrotyping and stereotyping. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossaries. part ii--_hand and machine composition_ . +typesetting+ by a. a. stewart a handbook for beginners, giving information about justifying, spacing, correcting, and other matters relating to typesetting. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +printers' proofs+ by a. a. stewart the methods by which they are made, marked, and corrected, with observations on proofreading. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +first steps in job composition+ by camille devéze suggestions for the apprentice compositor in setting his first jobs, especially about the important little things which go to make good display in typography. pp.; examples; review questions; glossary. . +general job composition+ how the job compositor handles business stationery, programs and miscellaneous work. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +book composition+ by j. w. bothwell chapters from devinne's "modern methods of book composition," revised and arranged for this series of text-books by j. w. bothwell of the devinne press, new york. part i: composition of pages. part ii: imposition of pages. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +tabular composition+ by robert seaver a study of the elementary forms of table composition, with examples of more difficult composition. pp.; examples; review questions. . +applied arithmetic+ by e. e. sheldon elementary arithmetic applied to problems of the printing trade, calculation of materials, paper weights and sizes, with standard tables and rules for computation, each subject amplified with examples and exercises. pp. . +typecasting and composing machines+ a. w. finlay, editor section i--the linotype by l. a. hornstein section ii--the monotype by joseph hays section iii--the intertype by henry w. cozzens section iv--other typecasting and typesetting machines by frank h. smith a brief history of typesetting machines, with descriptions of their mechanical principles and operations. illustrated; review questions; glossary. part iii--_imposition and stonework_ . +locking forms for the job press+ by frank s. henry things the apprentice should know about locking up small forms, and about general work on the stone. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +preparing forms for the cylinder press+ by frank s. henry pamphlet and catalog imposition; margins; fold marks, etc. methods of handling type forms and electrotype forms. illustrated; review questions; glossary. part iv--_presswork_ . +making ready on platen presses+ by t. g. mcgrew the essential parts of a press and their functions; distinctive features of commonly used machines. preparing the tympan, regulating the impression, underlaying and overlaying, setting gauges, and other details explained. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +cylinder presswork+ by t. g. mcgrew preparing the press; adjustment of bed and cylinder, form rollers, ink fountain, grippers and delivery systems. underlaying and overlaying; modern overlay methods. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +pressroom hints and helps+ by charles l. dunton describing some practical methods of pressroom work, with directions and useful information relating to a variety of printing-press problems. pp.; review questions. . +reproductive processes of the graphic arts+ by a. w. elson a primer of information about the distinctive features of the relief, the intaglio, and the planographic processes of printing. pp.; illustrated; review questions; glossary. part v--_pamphlet and book binding_ . +pamphlet binding+ by bancroft l. goodwin a primer of information about the various operations employed in binding pamphlets and other work in the bindery. illustrated; review questions; glossary. . +book binding+ by john j. pleger practical information about the usual operations in binding books; folding; gathering, collating, sewing, forwarding, finishing. case making and cased-in books. hand work and machine work. job and blank-book binding. illustrated; review questions; glossary. part vi--_correct literary composition_ . +word study and english grammar+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about words, their relations, and their uses. pp.; review questions; glossary. . +punctuation+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about the marks of punctuation and their use, both grammatically and typographically. pp.; review questions; glossary. . +capitals+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about capitalization, with some practical typographic hints as to the use of capitals. pp.; review questions; glossary. . +division of words+ by f. w. hamilton rules for the division of words at the ends of lines, with remarks on spelling, syllabication and pronunciation. pp.; review questions. . +compound words+ by f. w. hamilton a study of the principles of compounding, the components of compounds, and the use of the hyphen. pp.; review questions. . +abbreviations and signs+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about abbreviations and signs, with classified lists of those in most common use. pp.; review questions. . +the uses of italic+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about the history and uses of italic letters. pp.; review questions. . +proofreading+ by arnold levitas the technical phases of the proofreader's work; reading, marking, revising, etc.; methods of handling proofs and copy. illustrated by examples. pp.; review questions; glossary. . +preparation of printers' copy+ by f. w. hamilton suggestions for authors, editors, and all who are engaged in preparing copy for the composing room. pp.; review questions. . +printers' manual of style+ a reference compilation of approved rules, usages, and suggestions relating to uniformity in punctuation, capitalization, abbreviations, numerals, and kindred features of composition. . +the printer's dictionary+ by a. a. stewart a handbook of definitions and miscellaneous information about various processes of printing, alphabetically arranged. technical terms explained. illustrated. part vii--_design, color, and lettering_ . +applied design for printers+ by harry l. gage a handbook of the principles of arrangement, with brief comment on the periods of design which have most influenced printing. treats of harmony, balance, proportion, and rhythm; motion; symmetry and variety; ornament, esthetic and symbolic. illustrations; review questions; glossary; bibliography. . +elements of typographic design+ by harry l. gage applications of the principles of decorative design. building material of typography: paper, types, ink, decorations and illustrations. handling of shapes. design of complete book, treating each part. design of commercial forms and single units. illustrations; review questions, glossary; bibliography. . +rudiments of color in printing+ by harry l. gage use of color: for decoration of black and white, for broad poster effect, in combinations of two, three, or more printings with process engravings. scientific nature of color, physical and chemical. terms in which color may be discussed: hue, value, intensity. diagrams in color, scales and combinations. color theory of process engraving. experiments with color. illustrations in full color, and on various papers. review questions; glossary; bibliography. . +lettering in typography+ by harry l. gage printer's use of lettering: adaptability and decorative effect. development of historic writing and lettering and its influence on type design. classification of general forms in lettering. application of design to lettering. drawing for reproduction. fully illustrated; review questions; glossary; bibliography. . +typographic design in advertising+ by harry l. gage the printer's function in advertising. precepts upon which advertising is based. printer's analysis of his copy. emphasis, legibility, attention, color. method of studying advertising typography. illustrations; review questions; glossary; bibliography. . +making dummies and layouts+ by harry l. gage a layout: the architectural plan. a dummy: the imitation of a proposed final effect. use of dummy in sales work. use of layout. function of layout man. binding schemes for dummies. dummy envelopes. illustrations; review questions; glossary; bibliography. part viii--_history of printing_ . +books before typography+ by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about the invention of the alphabet and the history of bookmaking up to the invention of movable types. pp.; illustrated; review questions. . +the invention of typography+ by f. w. hamilton a brief sketch of the invention of printing and how it came about. pp.; review questions. . +history of printing+--part i by f. w. hamilton a primer of information about the beginnings of printing, the development of the book, the development of printers' materials, and the work of the great pioneers. pp.; review questions. . +history of printing+--part ii by f. w. hamilton a brief sketch of the economic conditions of the printing industry from to , including government regulations, censorship, internal conditions and industrial relations. pp.; review questions. . +printing in england+ by f. w. hamilton a short history of printing in england from caxton to the present time. pp.; review questions. . +printing in america+ by f. w. hamilton a brief sketch of the development of the newspaper, and some notes on publishers who have especially contributed to printing. pp.; review questions. . +type and presses in america+ by f. w. hamilton a brief historical sketch of the development of type casting and press building in the united states. pp.; review questions. part ix--_cost finding and accounting_ . +elements of cost in printing+ by henry p. porter the standard cost-finding forms and their uses. what they should show. how to utilize the information they give. review questions. glossary. . +use of a cost system+ by henry p. porter the standard cost-finding forms and their uses. what they should show. how to utilize the information they give. review questions. glossary. . +the printer as a merchant+ by henry p. porter the selection and purchase of materials and supplies for printing. the relation of the cost of raw material and the selling price of the finished product. review questions. glossary. . +fundamental principles of estimating+ by henry p. porter the estimator and his work; forms to use; general rules for estimating. review questions. glossary. . +estimating and selling+ by henry p. porter an insight into the methods used in making estimates, and their relation to selling. review questions. glossary. . +accounting for printers+ by henry p. porter a brief outline of an accounting system for printers; necessary books and accessory records. review questions. glossary. part x--_miscellaneous_ . +health, sanitation, and safety+ by henry p. porter hygiene in the printing trade; a study of conditions old and new; practical suggestions for improvement; protective appliances and rules for safety. . +topical index+ by f. w. hamilton a book of reference covering the topics treated in the typographic technical series, alphabetically arranged. . +courses of study+ by f. w. hamilton a guidebook for teachers, with outlines and suggestions for classroom and shop work. acknowledgment this series of typographic text-books is the result of the splendid co-operation of a large number of firms and individuals engaged in the printing business and its allied industries in the united states of america. the committee on education of the united typothetae of america, under whose auspices the books have been prepared and published, acknowledges its indebtedness for the generous assistance rendered by the many authors, printers, and others identified with this work. while due acknowledgment is made on the title and copyright pages of those contributing to each book, the committee nevertheless felt that a group list of co-operating firms would be of interest. the following list is not complete, as it includes only those who have co-operated in the production of a portion of the volumes, constituting the first printing. as soon as the entire list of books comprising the typographic technical series has been completed (which the committee hopes will be at an early date), the full list will be printed in each volume. the committee also desires to acknowledge its indebtedness to the many subscribers to this series who have patiently awaited its publication. committee on education, united typothetae of america. henry p. porter, _chairman_, e. lawrence fell, a. m. glossbrenner, j. clyde oswald, toby rubovits. frederick w. hamilton, _education director_. contributors +for composition and electrotypes+ isaac h. blanchard company, new york, n. y. s. h. burbank & co., philadelphia, pa. j. s. cushing & co., norwood, mass. the devinne press, new york, n. y. r. r. donnelley & sons co., chicago, ill. geo. h. ellis co., boston, mass. evans-winter-hebb, detroit, mich. franklin printing company, philadelphia, pa. f. h. gilson company, boston, mass. stephen greene & co., philadelphia, pa. w. f. hall printing co., chicago, ill. j. b. lippincott co., philadelphia, pa. mccalla & co. inc., philadelphia, pa. the patteson press, new york, new york the plimpton press, norwood, mass. poole bros., chicago, ill. edward stern & co., philadelphia, pa. the stone printing & mfg. co., roanoke, va. c. d. traphagen, lincoln, neb. the university press, cambridge, mass. +for composition+ boston typothetae school of printing, boston, mass. william f. fell co., philadelphia, pa. the kalkhoff company, new york, n. y. oxford-print, boston, mass. toby rubovits, chicago, ill. +for electrotypes+ blomgren brothers co., chicago, ill. flower steel electrotyping co., new york, n. y. c. j. peters & son co., boston, mass. royal electrotype co., philadelphia, pa. h. c. whitcomb & co., boston, mass. +for engravings+ american type founders co., boston, mass. c. b. cottrell & sons co., westerly, r. i. golding manufacturing co., franklin, mass. harvard university, cambridge, mass. inland printer co., chicago, ill. lanston monotype machine company, philadelphia, pa. mergenthaler linotype company, new york, n. y. geo. h. morrill co., norwood, mass. oswald publishing co., new york, n. y. the printing art, cambridge, mass. b. d. rising paper company, housatonic, mass. the vandercook press, chicago, ill. +for book paper+ american writing paper co., holyoke, mass. west virginia pulp & paper co., mechanicville, n. y. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. passages in bold are indicated by +bold+. [illustration] the book-lover's library. edited by henry b. wheatley, f.s.a. how to form a library by h.b. wheatley, f.s.a. _second edition._ new york a.c. armstrong & son, broadway. london: elliot stock. _preface._ _it will be generally allowed that a handy guide to the formation of libraries is required, but it may be that the difficulty of doing justice to so large a subject has prevented those who felt the want from attempting to fill it. i hope therefore that it will not be considered that i have shown temerity by stepping into the vacant place. i cannot hope to have done full justice to so important a theme in the small space at my disposal, but i think i can say that this little volume contains much information which the librarian and the book lover require and cannot easily obtain elsewhere. they are probably acquainted with most of this information, but the memory will fail us at times and it is then convenient to have a record at hand._ _a book of this character is peculiarly open to criticism, but i hope the critics will give me credit for knowing more than i have set down. in making a list of books of reference, i have had to make a selection, and works have been before me that i have decided to omit, although some would think them as important as many of those i have included._ _i need not extend this preface with any lengthy explanation of the objects of the book, as these are stated in the introduction, but before concluding i may perhaps be allowed to allude to one personal circumstance. i had hoped to dedicate this first volume of the book lover's library to henry bradshaw, one of the most original and most learned bibliographers that ever lived, but before it was finished the spirit of that great man had passed away to the inexpressible grief of all who knew him. it is with no desire to shield myself under the shelter of a great name, but with a reverent wish to express my own sense of our irreparable loss that i dedicate this book (though all unworthy of the honour) to his memory._ contents. page introduction chapter i. how men have formed libraries ii. how to buy iii. public libraries iv. private libraries v. general bibliographies vi. special bibliographies vii. publishing societies viii. child's library ix. one hundred books how to form a library. introduction. although there can be little difference of opinion among book lovers as to the need of a handbook which shall answer satisfactorily the question--"how to form a library"--it does not follow that there will be a like agreement as to the best shape in which to put the answer. on the one side a string of generalities can be of no use to any one, and on the other a too great particularity of instruction may be resented by those who only require hints on a few points, and feel that they know their own business better than any author can tell them. one of the most important attempts to direct the would-be founder of a library in his way was made as long ago as by dr. dibdin, and the result was entitled _the library companion_.[ ] the book could never have been a safe guide, and now it is hopelessly out of date. tastes change, and many books upon the necessity of possessing which dibdin enlarges are now little valued. dr. hill burton writes of this book as follows in his _book-hunter_: "this, it will be observed, is not intended as a manual of rare or curious, or in any way peculiar books, but as the instruction of a nestor on the best books for study and use in all departments of literature. yet one will look in vain there for such names as montaigne, shaftesbury, benjamin franklin, d'alembert, turgot, adam smith, malebranche, lessing, goethe, schiller, fénélon, burke, kant, richter, spinoza, flechier, and many others. characteristically enough, if you turn up rousseau in the index, you will find jean baptiste, but not jean jacques. you will search in vain for dr. thomas reid the metaphysician, but will readily find isaac reed the editor. if you look for molinæus, or du moulin, it is not there, but alphabetical vicinity gives you the good fortune to become acquainted with "moule, mr., his _bibliotheca heraldica_." the name of hooker will be found, not to guide the reader to the _ecclesiastical polity_, but to dr. jackson hooker's _tour in iceland_. lastly, if any one shall search for hartley _on man_, he will find in the place it might occupy, or has reference to, the editorial services of 'hazlewood, mr. joseph.'" although this criticism is to a great extent true, it does not do justice to dibdin's book, which contains much interesting and valuable matter, for if the _library companion_ is used not as a guide to be followed, but as a book for reference, it will be found of considerable use. william goodhugh's _english gentleman's library manual, or a guide to the formation of a library of select literature_, was published in . it contains classified lists of library books, but these are not now of much value, except for the notes which accompany the titles, and make this work eminently readable. there are some literary anecdotes not to be found elsewhere. a most valuable work of reference is mr. edward edwards's report on the formation of the manchester free library, which was printed in . it is entitled, "_librarian's first report to the books sub-committee on the formation of the library, june , , with lists of books suggested for purchase_." the lists are arranged in the following order:-- . works--collective and miscellaneous--of standard british authors; with a selection of those of the standard authors of america. . works relative to the history, topography, and biography of the united kingdom, and of the united states of america. . works relative to political economy, finance, trade, commerce, agriculture, mining, manufactures, inland communication, and public works. . works relating to physics, mathematics, mechanics, practical engineering, arts, and trades, etc. . voyages and travels. . works on zoology, botany, mineralogy, and geology. . periodical publications and transactions of learned societies (not included in lists , , or ), collections, encyclopædias, gazetteers, atlases, dictionaries, bibliographies, indexes, etc. these draft lists include distinct works, extending to about , volumes, including pamphlets, but exclusive of parliamentary papers and reports, or _blue books_. such a practically useful collection of lists of books will not easily be found elsewhere. mr. edwards gives some rules for the formation of libraries in the second volume of his _memoirs of libraries_ (p. ), where he writes, "no task is more likely to strip a man of self-conceit than that of having to frame, and to carry out in detail a plan for the formation of a large library. when he has once got beyond those departments of knowledge in which his own pursuits and tastes have specially interested him, the duty becomes a difficult one, and the certainty, that with his best efforts, it will be very imperfectly performed is embarrassing and painful. if, on the other hand, the task be imposed upon a 'committee,' there ensues almost the certainty that its execution will depend at least as much on chance as on plan: that responsibility will be so attenuated as to pass off in vapour; and that the collection so brought together will consist of parts bearing but a chaotic sort of relation to the whole." mr. henry stevens printed in his pretty little book entitled _catalogue of my english library_, which contains a very useful selection of standard books. in his introduction the author writes, "it was my intention in the outset not to exceed volumes, but little by little the list has increased to volumes. i have been considerably puzzled to know what titles to strike out in my next impression, being well aware that what is trash to one person is by no means such to another; also that many books of more merit than those admitted have been omitted. you may not think it difficult to strike out twenty authors, and to add twenty better ones in their place, but let me relate to you a parable. i requested twenty men, whose opinions on the literary exchange are as good as those of the barings or the rothschilds on the royal, each to expunge twenty authors and to insert twenty others of better standing in their places, promising to exclude in my next impression any author who should receive more than five votes. the result was, as may be supposed, not a single expulsion or addition." in mons. hector bossange produced a companion volume, entitled _ma bibliothèque française_. it contains a select list of about volumes, and is completed with indexes of subjects, authors, and persons. for helpful bibliographical guides we often have to look to the united states, and we do not look in vain. a most useful handbook, entitled _the best reading_, was published in by george p. putman, and the work edited by f.b. perkins is now in its fourth edition.[ ] the books are arranged in an alphabet of subjects, and the titles are short, usually being well within a single line. a very useful system of appraisement of the value of the books is adopted. thus: _a_, means that the book so marked is considered _the_ book, or as good as any, _at a moderate cost_; _b_ means, in like manner, the best of the more elaborate or costly books on the subject. in the department of fiction, a more precise classification has been attempted, in which a general idea of the relative importance of the _authors_ is indicated by the use of the letters _a_, _b_, and _c_, and of the relative value of their several works by the asterisks * and **." having noted a few of the guides which are now at hand for the use of the founders of a library, we may be allowed to go back somewhat in time, and consider how our predecessors treated this same subject, and we can then conclude the present introduction with a consideration of the less ambitious attempts to instruct the book collector which may be found in papers and articles. one of the earliest works on the formation of a library was written by bishop cardona, and published at tarragona in , in a thin volume entitled _de regia s. laurentii bibliothecâ. de pontificia vaticana_ [etc.]. justus lipsius wrote his _de bibliothecis syntagma_ at the end of the sixteenth century, and next in importance we come to gabriel naudé, who published one of the most famous of bibliographical essays. the first edition was published at paris in , and the second edition in . this was reprinted in paris by j. liseux in --"_advis pour dresser une bibliothèque, présenté à monseigneur le président de mesme_, par g. naudé p. paris, chez françois farga, ." this essay was translated by john evelyn, and dedicated to lord chancellor clarendon. "_instructions concerning erecting of a library_; presented to my lord the president de mesme. by gabriel naudeus p., and now interpreted by jo. evelyn, esquire, london, ." naudé enlarges on the value of catalogues, and recommends the book-buyer to make known his desires, so that others may help him in the search, or supply his wants. he specially mentions two modes of forming a library; one is to buy libraries entire, and the other is to hunt at book-stalls. he advised the book-buyer not to spend too much upon bindings. naudé appears to have been a born librarian, for at the early age of twenty the president de mesme appointed him to take charge of his library. he left his employer in , in order to finish his medical studies. cardinal bagni took him to rome, and when bagni died, naudé became librarian to cardinal barberini. richelieu recalled him to paris in , to act as his librarian, but the minister dying soon afterwards, naudé took the same office under mazarin. during the troubles of the fronde, the librarian had the mortification of seeing the library which he had collected dispersed; and in consequence he accepted the offer of queen christina, to become her librarian at stockholm. naudé was not happy abroad, and when mazarin appealed to him to reform his scattered library, he returned at once, but died on the journey home at abbeville, july , . the mazarin library consisted of more than , volumes, arranged in seven rooms filled from top to bottom. it was rich in all classes, but more particularly in law and physic. naudé described it with enthusiasm as "the most beautiful and best furnished of any library now in the world, or that is likely (if affection does not much deceive me) ever to be hereafter." such should be a library in the formation of which the kings and princes and ambassadors of europe were all helpers. naudé in another place called it "the work of my hands and the miracle of my life." great therefore was his dejection when the library was dispersed. of this he said, "beleeve, if you please, that the ruine of this library will be more carefully marked in all histories and calendars, than the taking and sacking of constantinople." naudé's letter on the destruction of the mazarin library was published in london in , and the pamphlet was reprinted in the _harleian miscellany_. "_news from france, or a description of the library of cardinall mazarini, before it was utterly ruined._ sent in a letter from g. naudæus, keeper of the publick library. london, printed for timothy garthwait, ." to. leaves. in was published at london, by samuel hartlib, a little book entitled, "_the reformed librarie keeper, with a supplement to the reformed school, as subordinate to colleges in universities._ by john durie. london, william du-gard, ."[ ] john durie's ideas on the educational value of libraries and the high function of the librarian are similar to those enunciated by carlyle, when he wrote, "the true university of these days is a collection of books." of this point, as elaborated in the proposal to establish professorships of bibliography, we shall have something more to say further on. it is always interesting to see the views of great men exemplified in the selection of books for a library, and we may with advantage study the lists prepared by george iii. and dr. johnson. the king was a collector of the first rank, as is evidenced by his fine library, now in the british museum, and he knew his books well. when he was about to visit weymouth, he wrote to his bookseller for the following books to be supplied to him to form a closet library at that watering place. the list was written from memory, and it was printed by dibdin in his _library companion_, from the original document in the king's own handwriting: the holy bible. vols. vo. cambridge. new whole duty of man. vo. the annual register. vols. vo. the history of england, by rapin. vols. vo. . elémens de l'histoire de france, par millot. vols. mo. . siècle de louis xiv., par voltaire, mo. siècle de louis xv., par voltaire, mo. commentaries on the laws of england, by sir william blackstone. vols. vo. newest edition. the justice of the peace and parish officer, by r. burn. vols. vo. an abridgement of samuel johnson's dictionary. vols. vo. dictionnaire françois et anglois, par m.a. boyer. vo. the works of the english poets, by sam. johnson. vols. mo. a collection of poems, by dodsley, pearch, and mendez. vols. mo. a select collection of poems, by j. nichols. vols. mo. shakespeare's plays, by steevens. oeuvres de destouches. vols. mo. the works of sir william temple. vols. vo. the works of jonathan swift. vols. mo. dr. johnson recommended the following list of books to the rev. mr. astle, of ashbourne, derbyshire, as a good working collection:-- rollin's ancient history. universal history (ancient). puffendorf's introduction to history. vertot's history of the knights of malta. vertot's revolutions of portugal. vertot's revolutions of sweden. carte's history of england. present state of england. geographical grammar. prideaux's connection. nelson's feasts and fasts. duty of man. gentleman's religion. clarendon's history. watts's improvement of the mind. watts's logick. nature displayed. lowth's english grammar. blackwall on the classicks. sherlock's sermons. burnet's life of hale. dupin's history of the church. shuckford's connection. law's serious call. walton's complete angler. sandys's travels. sprat's history of the royal society. england's gazetteer. goldsmith's roman history. some commentaries on the bible. it is curious to notice in both these lists how many of the books are now quite superseded. in another place boswell tells us what were johnson's views on book collecting. "when i mentioned that i had seen in the king's library sixty-three editions of my favourite _thomas à kempis_, amongst which it was in eight languages, latin, german, french, italian, spanish, english, arabick, and armenian, he said he thought it unnecessary to collect many editions of a book, which were all the same, except as to the paper and print; he would have the original, and all the translations, and all the editions which had any variations in the text. he approved of the famous collection of editions of horace by douglas, mentioned by pope, who is said to have had a closet filled with them; and he said every man should try to collect one book in that manner, and present it to a publick library." dr. johnson's notion as to the collection of editions which are alike except in the point of paper is scarcely sound, but it has been held by a librarian of the present day, as i know to my cost. on one occasion i was anxious to see several copies of the first folio of shakespeare ( ), and i visited a certain library which possessed more than one. the librarian expressed the opinion that one was quite sufficient for me to see, as "they were all alike." the possessor of a private library can act as a _censor morum_ and keep out of his collection any books which offend against good morals, but this _role_ is one which is unfit for the librarian of a public library. he may put difficulties in the way of the ordinary reader seeing such books, but nevertheless they should be in his library for the use of the student. a most amusing instance of misapplied zeal occurred at the advocates' library on the th june, . the minutes tell the tale in a way that speaks for itself and requires no comment. "mr. james burnet [afterwards lord monboddo], and sir david dalrymple [afterwards lord hailes], curators of the library, having gone through some accounts of books lately bought, and finding therein the three following french books: _les contes de la fontaine_, _l'histoire amoureuse des gaules_ and _l'ecumoire_, they ordain that the said books be struck out of the catalogue of the library, and removed from the shelves, as indecent books, unworthy of a place in a learned library." at a conference of representatives of institutions in union with the society of arts held in july, , the question of the compilation of a catalogue of books fitted for the libraries of institutions was raised, and shortly afterwards was published, under the sanction of the council, "_a handbook of mechanics' institutions, with priced catalogue of books suitable for libraries, and periodicals for reading rooms_, by w.h.j. traice." a second edition of this book was published in . the list, however, is not now of much use, as many of the books have been superseded. theology and politics are not included in the classification. in mr. mullins read a paper before a meeting of the social science association at birmingham, on the management of free libraries, and, in its reprinted form, this has become a handbook on the subject: "_free libraries and news-rooms, their formation and management._ by j.d. mullins, chief librarian, birmingham free libraries. third edition. london, sotheran and co., ." an appendix contains copies of the free libraries acts and amendments, and a "short list of books for a free lending library, ranging in price from _s._ to _s._ _d._ per volume." mr. axon read a paper on the formation of small libraries intended for the co-operative congress in , which was reprinted as a pamphlet of eight pages: "_hints on the formation of small libraries intended for public use._ by wm. e.a. axon. london, n. trübner and co." mr. a.r. spofford has given a valuable list of books and articles in periodicals, on the subject of libraries in chapter (library bibliography), of the _report on public libraries in the u.s._ ( ). the volume of _transactions and proceedings of the conference of librarians_, london, , contains two papers on the selection of books, one by mr. robert harrison, librarian of the london library, and the other by the late mr. james m. anderson, assistant librarian of the university of st. andrews. mr. harrison gives the following as the three guiding principles of selection in forming a library: . policy; . utility; . special or local appropriateness; and he deals with each successively. mr. anderson writes that "the selection of books should invariably be made ( ) in relation to the library itself, and ( ) in relation to those using it." we have chiefly to do with the formation of libraries, and therefore the use made of them when they are formed cannot well be enlarged upon here, but a passing note may be made on the proposal which has been much discussed of late years, viz. that for professorships of books and reading. the united states report on public libraries contains a chapter on this subject by f.b. perkins and william matthews (pp. - ), and mr. axon also contributed a paper at the first annual meeting of the library association. the value of such chairs, if well filled, is self-evident, for it takes a man a long time (without teaching) to learn how best to use books, but very special men would be required as professors. america has done much to show what the duties of such a professor should be, and harvard college is specially fortunate in possessing an officer in mr. justin winsor who is both a model librarian and a practical teacher of the art of how best to use the books under his charge. footnotes: [ ] "_the library companion, or the young man's guide and the old man's comfort in the choice of a library._ by the rev. t.f. dibdin, f.r.s., a.s., london, ." [ ] _the best reading_: hints on the selection of books; on the formation of libraries, public and private; on courses of reading, etc., with a classified bibliography for every reference. fourth revised and enlarged edition, continued to august, , with the addition of select lists of the best french, german, spanish, and italian literature. edited by frederic beecher perkins; new york, g.p. putnam's sons, . second series, to , by lynds e. jones. [ ] dr. richard garnett read an interesting paper on this book under the title of _librarianship in the seventeenth century_, before the library association. see _library chronicle_, vol. i. p. ( ). chapter i. how men have formed libraries. as long as books have existed there have been book collectors. it is easy now to collect, for books of interest are to be found on all sides; but in old times this was not so, and we must therefore admire the more those men who formed their libraries under the greatest difficulties. in a book devoted to the formation of libraries it seems but fair to devote some space to doing honour to those who have formed libraries, and perhaps some practical lessons may be learned from a few historical facts. englishmen may well be proud of richard aungerville de bury, a man occupying a busy and exalted station, who not only collected books with ardour united with judgment, but has left for the benefit of later ages a manual which specially endears his memory to all book lovers. he collected books, and often took them in place of corn for tithes and dues, but he also produced books, for he kept copyists in his house. many of these books were carefully preserved in his palace at durham, but it is also pleasant to think of some of them being carefully preserved in the noble mansion belonging to his see which stood by the side of the thames, and on the site of the present adelphi. petrarch was a book-loving poet, and he is said to have met the book-loving ecclesiastic richard de bury at rome. he gave his library to the church of st. mark at venice in ; but the guardians allowed the books to decay, and few were rescued. boccaccio bequeathed his library to the augustinians at florence, but one cannot imagine the books of the accomplished author of the _decameron_ as very well suited for the needs of a religious society, and it was probably weeded before boccaccio's death. the remains of the library are still shown to visitors in the laurentian library, the famous building due to the genius of michael angelo. cardinal john bessarion gave his fine collection (which included about greek mss.) to st. mark's in , and in the letter to the doge which accompanied his gift, he tells some interesting particulars of his early life as a collector. he writes, "from my youth i have bestowed my pains and exertion in the collection of books on various sciences. in former days i copied many with my own hands, and i have employed on the purchase of others such small means as a frugal and thrifty life permitted me to devote to the purpose." the rev. joseph hunter printed in a valuable catalogue of the library of the priory of bretton in yorkshire, and added to it some notices of the libraries belonging to other religious houses, in which he gives us a good idea of the contents of these libraries. he writes, "on comparing the bretton catalogue with that of other religious communities, we find the libraries of the english monasteries composed of very similar materials. they consisted of-- . the scriptures; and these always in an english or the latin version. a greek or hebrew manuscript of the scriptures is not found in leland's notes, or, i believe, in any of the catalogues. in wetstein's catalogue of mss. of the new testament, only one (codex ) is traced into the hands of an english community of religious. . the commentators. . the fathers. . services and rituals of the church. . writers in the theological controversies of the middle ages. . moral and devotional writings. . canon law. . the schoolmen. . grammatical writers. . writers in mathematics and physics. . medical writers. . collections of epistles. . the middle age poets and romance-writers. . the latin classics. . the chronicles. . the historical writings of doubtful authority, commonly called legends. most of the manuscripts which composed the monastic libraries were destroyed at the reformation." humphry plantagenet duke of gloucester, whose fame has been so lasting as the 'good duke humphry,' was also a book-collector of renown; but most of the old libraries we read about have left but little record of their existence: thus the common library at guildhall, founded by dick whittington in , and added to by john carpenter, the town clerk of london, has been entirely destroyed, the books having, in the first instance, been carried away by edward seymour duke of somerset. although, as we have seen from mr. hunter's remarks, there was a considerable amount of variety in the subjects of these manuscript collections, we must still bear in mind that in a large number of instances the contents of the libraries consisted of little more than breviaries and service books. it has been pointed out that this fact is illustrated by the union of the offices of precentor and armarius in one person, who had charge of the library (armarium) and its great feeder, the writing-room (scriptorium), as well as the duty of leading the singing in the church. many lists of old libraries have been preserved, and these have been printed in various bibliographical works, thus giving us a valuable insight into the reading of our forefathers. when we come to consider libraries of printed books in place of manuscripts, we naturally find a greater variety of subjects collected by the famous men who have formed collections. montaigne, the friend of all literary men, could not have been the man we know him to have been if he had not lived among his books. like many a later book-lover, he decorated his library with mottoes, and burnt-in his inscriptions letter by letter with his own hands. grotius made his love of books do him a special service, for he escaped from prison in a box which went backwards and forwards with an exchange of books for his entertainment and instruction. grolier and de thou stand so pre-eminent among book collectors, and from the beauty of the copies they possessed the relics of their libraries are so frequently seen, that it seems merely necessary here to mention their names. but as frenchmen may well boast of these men, so englishmen can take pride in the possession of the living memory of archbishop parker, who enriched cambridge, and of sir thomas bodley, who made the library at oxford one of the chief glories of our land. old lists of books are always of interest to us as telling what our forefathers cared to have about them, but it is seldom that a list is so tantalising as one described by mr. edward edwards in his _libraries and founders of libraries_. anne of denmark presented her son charles with a splendid series of volumes, bound in crimson and purple velvet. abraham van der dort, who was keeper of charles's cabinet, made an inventory of this cabinet; and having no notion of how to make a catalogue of books, he has managed to leave out all the information we wish for. the inventory is among the harleian mss. ( ), and the following are specimens of the entries:-- "im'pris books in crimson velvet, whereof are bound to. and y^e th in folio, adorn'd with some silver guilt plate, and y^e claspes wanting. given to y^e king by queen ann of famous memory. item, more books, thereof being in long to. and y^e lesser cover'd over also with purple velvet. given also to y^e king by y^e said queen ann." most of the famous private libraries of days gone by have left little record of their existence, but evelyn's collection is still carefully preserved at wotton, the house of the diarist's later years, and pepys's books continue at cambridge in the cases he had made for them, and in the order he fixed for them. in a long letter to pepys, dated from sayes court, th august, , evelyn gives an account of such private libraries as he knew of in england, and in london more particularly. he first mentions lord chancellor clarendon, to whom he dedicated his translation of naudé's advice, and who "furnished a very ample library." evelyn observes that england was peculiarly defective in good libraries: "paris alone, i am persuaded, being able to show more than all the three nations of great britain." he describes dr. stillingfleet's, at twickenham, as the very best library.[ ] he did not think much either of the earl of bristol's or of sir kenelm digby's books, but he says lord maitland's "was certainly the noblest, most substantial and accomplished library that ever passed under the spear." in a useful little volume published at london in , and entitled, _a critical and historical account of all the celebrated libraries in foreign countries, as well ancient as modern_, which is stated to be written by "a gentleman of the temple," are some "general reflections upon the choice of books and the method of furnishing libraries and cabinets." as these reflections are interesting in themselves, and curious as the views of a writer of the middle of the eighteenth century on this important subject, i will transfer them bodily to these pages. "nothing can be more laudable than forming libraries, when the founders have no other view than to improve themselves and men of letters: but it will be necessary, in the first place, to give some directions, which will be of great importance towards effecting the design, as well with regard to the choice of books as the manner of placing to advantage: nor is it sufficient in this case, to be learned, since he who would have a collection worthy of the name of a library must of all things have a thorough knowledge of books, that he may distinguish such as are valuable from the trifling. he must likewise understand the price of books, otherwise he may purchase some at too high a rate, and undervalue others: all which requires no small judgment and experience. "let us suppose, then, the founder possessed of all those qualifications, three things fall next under consideration. "first, the number of books; secondly, their quality; and, lastly, the order in which they ought to be ranged. "as to the quantity, regard must be had, as well to places as to persons; for should a man of moderate fortune propose to have a library for his own use only, it would be imprudent in him to embarrass his affairs in order to effect it. under such circumstances he must rather consider the usefulness than the number of books, for which we have the authority of seneca, who tells us that a multitude of books is more burthensome than instructive to the understanding. "but if a private person has riches enough for founding a library, as well for his own use as for the public, he ought to furnish it with the most useful volumes in all arts and sciences, and procure such as are scarcest and most valuable, from all parts, that the learned, of whom there are many classes, may instruct themselves in what may be useful to them, and may gratify their enquiries. but as the condition and abilities of such as would form libraries are to be distinguished, so regard must likewise be had to places, for it is very difficult to procure, or collect books in some countries, without incredible expense; a design of that kind would be impracticable in america, africa, and some parts of asia; so that nothing can be determined as to the number of books, that depending entirely upon a variety of circumstances, and the means of procuring them, as has been observ'd before. "as to the second topic, special care must be taken in the choice of books, for upon that alone depends the value of a library. we must not form a judgment of books either by their bulk or numbers, but by their intrinsic merit and usefulness. alexander severus's library consisted of no more than four volumes, that is the works of plato, cicero, virgil, and horace. melanchthon seems to have imitated that prince, for his collection amounted to four books only, plato, pliny, plutarch, and ptolemy. "there is another necessary lesson for those who form designs of making libraries, that is, that they must disengage themselves from all prejudices with regard either to ancient or modern books, for such a wrong step often precipitates the judgment, without scrutiny or examination, as if truth and knowledge were confined to any particular times or places. the ancients and moderns should be placed in collections, indifferently, provided they have those characters we hinted before. "let us now proceed to the third head, the manner of placing books in such order, as that they may be resorted to upon any emergency, without difficulty, otherwise they can produce but little advantage either to the owners or others. "the natural method of placing books and manuscripts is to range them in separate classes or apartments, according to the science, art, or subject, of which they treat. "here it will be necessary to observe, that as several authors have treated of various subjects, it may be difficult to place them under any particular class; plutarch, for instance, who was an historian, a political writer, and a philosopher. the most advisable method then is to range them under the head of miscellaneous authors, with proper references to each subject, but this will be more intelligible by an example. "suppose, then, we would know the names of the celebrated historians of the ancients; nothing more is necessary than to inspect the class under which the historians are placed, and so of other faculties. by this management, one set of miscellaneous authors will be sufficient, and may be resorted to with as much ease and expedition as those who have confined themselves to one subject. in choice of books regard must be had to the edition, character, paper and binding. as to the price, it is difficult to give any positive directions; that of ordinary works is easily known, but as to such as are very scarce and curious, we can only observe that their price is as uncertain as that of medals and other monuments of antiquity, and often depends more on the caprice of the buyer than the intrinsic merit of the work, some piquing themselves upon the possession of things from no other consideration than their exorbitant price." dr. byrom's quaint library is still preserved at manchester in its entirety. bishop moore's fine collection finds a resting place in the university library at cambridge, and the relics of the library of harley, earl of oxford, a mine of manuscript treasure, still remain one of the chief glories of the british museum. how much cause for regret is there that the library itself, which osborne bought and johnson described, did not also find a settled home, instead of being dispersed over the land. it is greatly to the credit of the rich and busy man to spend his time and riches in the collection of a fine library, but still greater honour is due to the poor man who does not allow himself to be pulled down by his sordid surroundings. the once-famous small-coalman, thomas britton, furnishes a most remarkable instance of true greatness in a humble station, and one, moreover, which was fully recognized in his own day. he lived next door to st. john's gate, clerkenwell, and although he gained his living by selling coals from door to door, many persons of the highest station were in the habit of attending the musical meetings held at his house. he was an excellent chemist as well as a good musician, and thomas hearne tells us that he left behind him "a valuable collection of musick mostly pricked by himself, which was sold upon his death for near an hundred pounds," "a considerable collection of musical instruments which was sold for fourscore pounds," "not to mention the excellent collection of printed books that he also left behind him, both of chemistry and musick. besides these books that he left, he had some years before his death ( ) sold by auction a noble collection of books, most of them in the rosicrucian faculty (of which he was a great admirer), whereof there is a printed catalogue extant, as there is of those that were sold after his death, which catalogue i have by me (by the gift of my very good friend mr. bagford), and have often looked over with no small surprize and wonder, and particularly for the great number of mss. in the before-mentioned faculties that are specified in it."[ ] dr. johnson, although a great reader, was not a collector of books. he was forced to possess many volumes while he was compiling his dictionary, but when that great labour was completed, he no longer felt the want of them. goldsmith, on the other hand, died possessed of a considerable number of books which he required, or had at some time required, for his studies. "the select collection of scarce, curious, and valuable books, in english, latin, greek, french, italian, and other languages, late the library of dr. goldsmith, deceased," was sold on tuesday, the th of july, , and the catalogue will be found in the appendix to forster's life. there were lots in folio, in quarto, and in octavo and smaller sizes. among the books of interest in this list are chaucer's works, ; davenant's works, ; camoens, by fanshawe, ; cowley's works, ; shelton's don quixote; raleigh's history of the world, ; bulwer's artificial changeling, ; verstegan's antiquities, ; hartlib's legacie, ; sir k. digby on the nature of bodies, ; warton's history of english poetry, ; encyclopédie, vols., ; fielding's works, vols., ; bysshe's art of poetry; hawkins's origin of the english drama, vols., ; percy's reliques, vols., dublin, ; sir william temple's works; and de bure, bibliographie instructive. a catalogue such as this, made within a few weeks of the death of the owner, cannot but have great interest for us. the library could not have been a very choice one, for there is little notice of bindings and much mention of odd volumes. it was evidently a working collection, containing the works of the poets goldsmith loved, and of the naturalists from whom he stole his knowledge. gibbon was a true collector, who loved his books, and he must have needed them greatly, working as he did at lausanne away from public libraries. after his death the library was purchased by 'vathek' beckford, but he kept it buried, and it was of no use to any one. eventually it was sold by auction, a portion being bought for the canton, and another portion going to america. there was little in the man gibbon to be enthusiastic about, but it is impossible for any true book lover not to delight in the thoroughness of the author of one of the noblest books ever written. the fine old house where the _decline and fall_ was written and the noble library was stored still stands, and the traveller may stroll in the garden so beautifully described by gibbon when he walked to the historical _berceau_ and felt that his herculean labour was completed. his heart must be preternaturally dull which does not beat quicker as he walks on that ground. the thought of a visit some years ago forms one of the most vivid of the author's pleasures of memory. charles burney, the greek scholar, is said to have expended nearly £ , on his library, which consisted of more than , printed volumes and a fine collection of mss. the library was purchased for the british museum for the sum of £ , . charles burney probably inherited his love of collecting from his father, for dr. burney possessed some twenty thousand volumes. these were rather an incumbrance to the doctor, and when he moved to chelsea hospital, he was in some difficulty respecting them. mrs. chapone, when she heard of these troubles, proved herself no bibliophile, for she exclaimed, "twenty thousand volumes! bless me! why, how can he so encumber himself? why does he not burn half? for how much must be to spare that never can be worth his looking at from such a store! and can he want to keep them all?" the love of books will often form a tie of connection between very divergent characters, and in dealing with men who have formed libraries we can bring together the names of those who had but little sympathy with each other during life. george iii. was a true book collector, and the magnificent library now preserved in the british museum owes its origin to his own judgment and enthusiastic love for the pursuit. louis xvi. cared but little for books until his troubles came thick upon him, and then he sought solace from their pages. during that life in the temple we all know so well from the sad reading of its incidents, books were not denied to the persecuted royal family. there was a small library in the "little tower," and the king drew up a list of books to be supplied to him from the library at the tuileries. the list included the works of virgil, horace, ovid, and terence; of tacitus, livy, cæsar, marcus aurelius, eutropius, cornelius nepos, florus, justin, quintus curtius, sallust, suetonius and velleius paterculus; the _vies des saints_, the _fables de la fontaine_, _télèmaque_, and rollin's _traité des etudes_.[ ] the more we know of napoleon, and anecdotes of him are continually being published in the ever-lengthening series of french memoirs, the less heroic appears his figure, but he could not have been entirely bad, for he truly loved books. he began life as an author, and would always have books about him. he complained if the printing was bad or the binding poor, and said, "i will have fine editions and handsome binding. i am rich enough for that."[ ] thus spoke the true bibliophile. mr. edwards has collected much interesting information respecting napoleon and his libraries, and of his labours i here freely avail myself. bourrienne affirms that the authors who chiefly attracted napoleon in his school days were polybius, plutarch, and arrian. "shortly before he left france for egypt, napoleon drew up, with his own hand, the scheme of a travelling library, the charge of collecting which was given to john baptist say, the economist. it comprised about three hundred and twenty volumes, more than half of which are historical, and nearly all, as it seems, in french. the ancient historians comprised in the list are thucydides, plutarch, polybius, arrian, tacitus, livy, and justin. the poets are homer, virgil, tasso, ariosto, the _télèmaque_ of fénélon, the _henriade_ of voltaire, with ossian and la fontaine. among the works of prose fiction are the english novelists in forty volumes, of course in translations, and the indispensable _sorrows of werter_, which, as he himself told goethe, napoleon had read through seven times prior to october, . in this list the bible, together with the _koran_ and the _vedas_, are whimsically, but significantly, entered under the heading politics and ethics (politique et morale).[ ] napoleon was not, however, satisfied with the camp libraries which were provided for him; the good editions were too bulky and the small editions too mean: so he arranged the plan of a library to be expressly printed for him in a thousand duodecimo volumes without margins, bound in thin covers and with loose backs. "in this new plan 'religion' took its place as the first class. the bible was to be there in its best translation, with a selection of the most important works of the fathers of the church, and a series of the best dissertations on those leading religious sects--their doctrines and their history--which have powerfully influenced the world. this section was limited to forty volumes. the koran was to be included, together with a good book or two on mythology. one hundred and forty volumes were allotted to poetry. the epics were to embrace homer, lucan, tasso, _telemachus_, and the _henriade_. in the dramatic portion corneille and racine were of course to be included, but of corneille, said napoleon, you shall print for me 'only what is vital' (ce qui est resté), and from racine you shall omit '_les frères ennemis_, the _alexandre_, and _les plaideurs_. of crébillon, he would have only _rhadamiste_ and _atrée et thyeste_. voltaire was to be subject to the same limitation as corneille.'"[ ] in prose fiction napoleon specifies the _nouvelle héloise_ and rousseau's _confessions_, the masterpieces of fielding, richardson and le sage, and voltaire's tales. soon after this napoleon proposed a much larger scheme for a camp library, in which history alone would occupy three thousand volumes. history was to be divided into these sections--i. chronology and universal history. ii. ancient history (_a._ by ancient writers, _b._ by modern writers). iii. history of the lower empire (in like subdivisions). iv. history, both general and particular. v. the modern history of the different states of europe. the celebrated bibliographer barbier drew up, according to the emperor's orders, a detailed catalogue of the works which should form such a library. "he calculated that by employing a hundred and twenty compositors and twenty-five editors, the three thousand volumes could be produced, in satisfactory shape, and within six years, at a total cost of £ , , supposing fifty copies of each book to be printed."[ ] the printing was begun, but little was actually done, and in six years napoleon was in st. helena. in his last island home napoleon had a library, and he read largely, often aloud, with good effect. it is an interesting fact that among napoleon's papers were found some notes on geography written when a boy, and these close with the words--"_sainte-hélène--petite ile_."[ ] in recapitulating here the names of a few of the famous men who have formed libraries it will be necessary to divide them into two classes, , those whose fame arises from their habit of collecting, and , those authors in whose lives we are so much interested that the names of the books they possessed are welcomed by us as indications of their characters. what can be said of the libraries of the duke of roxburghe, earl spencer, thomas grenville, and richard heber that has not been said often before? two of these have been dispersed over the world, and two remain, one the glory of a noble family, and the other of the nation, or perhaps it would be more proper to say both are the glory of the nation, for every englishman must be proud that the spencer library still remains intact. heber left behind him over , volumes, in eight houses, four in england and four on the continent, and no record remains of this immense library but the volumes of the sale catalogues. such wholesale collection appears to be allied to madness, but heber was no selfish collector, and his practice was as liberal as grolier's motto. his name is enshrined in lasting verse by scott:-- "thy volumes, open as thy heart, delight, amusement, science, art, to every ear and eye impart; yet who of all that thus employ them, can like the owner's self enjoy them?-- but hark! i hear the distant drum: the day of flodden field is come-- adieu, dear heber! life and health, and store of literary wealth." --marmion, _introduction to the sixth canto_. the duke of sussex was a worthy successor of his father, george iii., in the ranks of book-collectors, and his library is kept in memory by pettigrew's fine catalogue. douce and malone the critics, and gough the antiquary, left their libraries to the bodleian, and thus many valuable books are available to students in that much-loved resort of his at oxford. anthony morris storer, who is said to have excelled in everything he set his heart on and hand to, collected a beautiful library, which he bequeathed to eton college, where it still remains, a joy to look at from the elegance of the bindings. his friend lord carlisle wrote of him-- "whether i storer sing in hours of joy, when every look bespeaks the inward boy; or when no more mirth wantons in his breast, and all the man in him appears confest; in mirth, in sadness, sing him how i will, sense and good nature must attend him still." jacob bryant the antiquary left his library to king's college, cambridge. at one time he intended to have followed storer's example, and have left it to eton college, but the provost offended him, and he changed the object of his bequest. it is said that when he was discussing the matter, the provost asked whether he would not arrange for the payment of the carriage of the books from his house to eton. he thought this grasping, and king's gained the benefit of his change of mind. among great authors two of the chief collectors were scott and southey. scott's library still remains at abbotsford, and no one who has ever entered that embodiment of the great man's soul can ever forget it. the library, with the entire contents of the house, were restored to scott in by his trustees and creditors, "as the best means the creditors have of expressing their very high sense of his most honourable conduct, and in grateful acknowledgment of the unparalleled and most successful exertions he has made, and continues to make for them." the library is rich in the subjects which the great author loved, such as demonology and witchcraft. in a volume of a collection of ballads and chapbooks is this note written by scott in : "this little collection of stall tracts and ballads was formed by me, when a boy, from the baskets of the travelling pedlars. until put into its present decent binding, it had such charms for the servants, that it was repeatedly, and with difficulty, recovered from their clutches. it contains most of the pieces that were popular about thirty years since, and i dare say many that could not now be procured for any price." it is odd to contrast the book-loving tastes of celebrated authors. southey cared for his books, but coleridge would cut the leaves of a book with a butter knife, and de quincey's extraordinary treatment of books is well described by mr. burton in the _book hunter_. charles lamb's loving appreciation of his books is known to all readers of the delightful elia. southey collected more than , volumes, which sold in for nearly £ . he began collecting as a boy, for his father had but few books. mr. edwards enumerates these as follows: the _spectator_, three or four volumes of the _oxford magazine_, one volume of the _freeholder's magazine_, and one of the _town and country magazine_, pomfret's _poems_, the _death of abel_, nine plays (including _julius cæsar_, _the indian queen_, and a translation of _merope_), and a pamphlet.[ ] southey was probably one of the most representative of literary men. his feelings in his library are those of all book-lovers, although he could express these feelings in language which few of them have at command:-- my days among the dead are passed; around me i behold, where'er these casual eyes are cast, the mighty minds of old: my never-failing friends are they, with whom i converse day by day. with them i take delight in weal, and seek relief in woe; and while i understand and feel how much to them i owe, my cheeks have often been bedewed with tears of thoughtful gratitude. my thoughts are with the dead; with them i live in long-past years; their virtues love, their faults condemn, partake their hopes and fears, and from their lessons seek and find instruction with a humble mind. my hopes are with the dead; anon my place with them will be and i with them shall travel on through all futurity; yet leaving here a name, i trust, that will not perish in the dust. mr. henry stevens read a paper or rather delivered an address at the meeting of the library association held at liverpool in , containing his recollections of mr. james lenox, the great american book collector. i had the pleasure of listening to that address, but i have read it in its finished form with even greater delight. it is not often that he who pleases you as a speaker also pleases you as writer, but mr. stevens succeeds in both. if more bibliographers could write their reminiscences with the same spirit that he does, we should hear less of the dullness of bibliography. i strongly recommend my readers to take an early opportunity of perusing this paper in the liverpool volume of the transactions of the library association. mr. stevens, among his anecdotes of mr. lenox, records that he "often bought duplicates for immediate use, or to lend, rather than grope for the copies he knew to be in the stocks in some of his store rooms or chambers, notably stirling's _artists of spain_, a high-priced book." this is a common trouble to large book collectors, who cannot find the books they know they possess. the late mr. crossley had his books stacked away in heaps, and he was often unable to lay his hands upon books of which he had several copies. footnotes: [ ] narcissus marsh, archbishop of armagh, is said to have given £ for bishop stillingfleet's library. [ ] _reliquiæ hearnianæ_, by bliss, nd edition, , vol. ii. p. . [ ] edwards, _libraries and founders of libraries_, p. . [ ] edwards, _libraries and founders_, p. . [ ] _correspondance de napoleon i^er_, iv. pp. , , quoted by edwards, _libraries and founders_, p. . [ ] edwards, _libraries and founders_, p. . [ ] edwards, _libraries and founders_, p. . [ ] edwards, _libraries and founders_, p. . [ ] _libraries and founders of libraries_, p. . chapter ii. how to buy. a discussion has arisen lately in bibliographical journals as to how best to supply libraries with their books, the main principle agreed upon being that it is the duty of the librarian to buy his books as cheaply as possible. some of these views are stated by mr. h.r. tedder in a letter printed in the _library chronicle_ for july, (vol. i. p. ). it appears that professor dziatzko contends that the books should always be bought as cheaply as possible, but that dr. julius petzholdt holds the opinion that the chief object of the librarian should be to get his books as early as possible and not to wait until they can be had at second-hand. mr. tedder thinks that the two plans of rapidity of supply and cheapness of cost can in some respect be united. of course there can be no difference of opinion in respect to the duty of the librarian to get as much for his money as he can, but there are other points which require to be considered besides those brought forward before a satisfactory answer to the question--how to buy? can be obtained. there are three points which seem to have been very much overlooked in the discussion, which may be stated here. . is the librarian's valuable time well occupied by looking after cheap copies of books? . will not the proposed action on the part of librarians go far to abolish the intelligent second-hand bookseller in the same way as the new bookseller has been well-nigh abolished in consequence of large discounts? . will not such action prevent the publication of excellent books on subjects little likely to be popular? . most librarians find their time pretty well occupied by the ordinary duties of buying, arranging, cataloguing, and finding the books under their charge, and it will be generally allowed that the librarian's first duty is to be in his library, ready to attend to those who wish to consult him. now the value of his time can be roughly estimated for this purpose in money, and the value of the time spent in doing work which could be as well or better done by a bookseller should fairly be added to the cost of the books. . it has hitherto been thought advisable to have one or more second-hand booksellers attached to an important library, from whom the librarian may naturally expect to obtain such books as he requires. of course a man of knowledge and experience must be paid for the exercise of these qualities, but the price of books is so variable that it is quite possible that the bookseller, from his knowledge, may buy the required books cheaper than the librarian himself would pay for them. as far as it is possible to judge from the information given us respecting the collection of libraries, bookbuyers have little to complain of as to the price paid by them to such respectable booksellers as have acted as their agents. perhaps too little stress has been laid upon that characteristic which is happily so common among honest men, viz. that the agent is as pleased to get wares cheap for a good customer as for himself. mr. tedder says in his letter, "for rarer books i still consider it safer and cheaper in the long run to cultivate business relations with one or more second-hand booksellers, and pay them for their knowledge and experience." but is this quite fair, and is it not likely that the rarer books will be supplied cheaper if the bookseller is allowed to pay himself partly out of the sale of the commoner books, which it is now proposed the librarian shall buy himself? my contention is that it is for the advantage of libraries that intelligent booksellers, ready to place their knowledge at the service of the librarians, should exist, and it is unwise and uneconomic to do that which may cause this class to cease to exist. sellers of books must always exist, but it is possible to drive out of the trade those who do it the most honour. we see what has occurred in the new book trade, and there can be little doubt that the book-buyer loses much more than he gains by the present system of discount. when the bookseller could obtain sufficient profit by the sale of new books to keep his shop open, it was worth his while to take some trouble in finding the book required; but now that the customer expects to buy a book at trade price, he cannot be surprised if he does not give full particulars as to the publisher of the book he requires if it is reported to him as "not known." those only who, by taking a large quantity of copies, obtain an extra discount, can make new bookselling pay. . there are a large number of books which, although real additions to literature, can only be expected to obtain a small number of readers and buyers. some of these are not taken by the circulating libraries, and publishers, in making their calculations, naturally count upon supplying some of the chief libraries of the country. if these libraries wait till the book is second-hand, the number of sales is likely to be so much reduced that it is not worth while to publish the book at all, to the evident damage of the cause of learning. it has been often suggested that an arrangement should be made by libraries in close proximity, so that the same expensive book should not be bought by more than one of the libraries. no doubt this is advantageous in certain circumstances, but in the case of books with a limited sale it would have the same consequence as stated above, and the book would not be published at all, or be published at a loss. selden wrote in his _table talk_: "the giving a bookseller his price for his books has this advantage; he that will do so, shall have the refusal of whatsoever comes to his hand, and so by that means get many things which otherwise he never should have seen." and the dictum is as true now as it was in his time. many special points arise for consideration when we deal with the question--how to buy at sales? and mr. edward edwards gives the following four rules for the guidance of the young book-buyer (_memoirs of libraries_, vol. ii. p. ): . the examination of books before the sale, not during it. . a steady unintermittent bidding up to his predetermined limit, for all the books which he wants, from the first lot to the last; and--if there be any signs of a "combination"--for a few others which he may _not_ want. . careful avoidance of all interruptions and conversation; with especial watchfulness of the hammer immediately after the disposal of those especially seductive lots, which may have excited a keen and spirited competition. (there is usually on such occasions a sort of "lull," very favourable to the acquisition of good bargains.) . the uniform preservation and storing up of priced catalogues of all important sales for future reference. a case of conscience arises as to whether it is fit and proper for two buyers to agree not to oppose each other at a public sale. mr. edwards says, "at the sales lord spencer was a liberal opponent as well as a liberal bidder. when mason's books were sold, for example, in , lord spencer agreed with the duke of roxburghe that they would not oppose each other, in bidding for some books of excessive rarity, but when both were very earnest in their longings, "toss up, after the book was bought, to see who should win it." thus it was that the duke obtained his unique, but imperfect, copy of caxton's _historye of kynge blanchardyn and prince eglantyne_, which, however, came safely to althorp fourteen years later, at a cost of two hundred and fifteen pounds; the duke having given but twenty guineas."[ ] it is easy to understand the inducement which made these two giants agree not to oppose each other, but the agreement was dangerously like a "knock-out." mr. henry stevens (in his _recollections of mr. james lenox_) boldly deals with this question, and condemns any such agreement. he writes, "shortly after, in , there occurred for sale at the same auction rooms a copy of '_aratus, phaenomena_,' paris, , in ^o, with a few manuscript notes, and this autograph signature on the title, 'jo. milton, pre. _s._ _d._ .' this i thought would be a desirable acquisition for mr. lenox, and accordingly i ventured to bid for it as far as £ , against my late opponent for the drake map, but he secured it at £ _s._, remarking that 'mr. panizzi will not thank you for, thus running the british museum.' 'that remark,' i replied, 'is apparently one of your gratuities. mr. panizzi is, i think, too much a man of the world to grumble at a fair fight. he has won this time, though at considerable cost, and i am sure mr. lenox will be the first to congratulate him on securing such a prize for the british museum.' 'i did not know you were bidding for mr. lenox.' 'it was not necessary that you should.' 'perhaps at another time,' said he, 'we may arrange the matter beforehand, so as not to oppose each other.' 'very well,' i replied, 'if you will bring me a note from mr. panizzi something to this effect: 'mr. stevens, please have a knock-out with the bearer, the agent of the british museum, on lot **, and greatly oblige mr. john bull and your obdt. servant, a.p.,' i will consider the proposition, and if mr. lenox, or any other of my interested correspondents, is not unwilling to combine or conspire to rob or cheat the proprietors, the 'thing' may possibly be done. meanwhile, until this arrangement is concluded, let us hold our tongues and pursue an honest course.' that man never again suggested to me to join him in a 'knock-out.'" in another place mr. stevens relates his own experience as to holding two commissions, and the necessity of buying the book above the amount of the lowest of the two. the circumstance relates to a copy of the small octavo latin edition of the _columbus letter_, in eight leaves, at the first libri sale, feb. , . mr. stevens writes, "mr. brown ordered this lot with a limit of guineas, and mr. lenox of £ . now as my chief correspondents had been indulged with a good deal of liberty, scarcely ever considering their orders completely executed till they had received the books and decided whether or not they would keep them, i grew into the habit of considering all purchases my own until accepted and paid for. consequently when positive orders were given, which was very seldom, i grew likewise into the habit of buying the lot as cheaply as possible, and then awarding it to the correspondent who gave the highest limit. this is not always quite fair to the owner; but in my case it would have been unfair to myself to make my clients compete, as not unfrequently the awarded lot was declined and had to go to another. well, in the case of this columbus letter, though i had five or six orders, i purchased it for £ _s._, and, accordingly, as had been done many times before within the last five or six years without a grumble, i awarded it to the highest limit, and sent the little book to mr. john carter brown. hitherto, in cases of importance, mr. lenox had generally been successful, because he usually gave the highest limit. but in this case he rebelled. he wrote that the book had gone under his commission of £ , that he knew nobody else in the transaction, and that he insisted on having it, or he should at once transfer his orders to some one else. i endeavoured to vindicate my conduct by stating our long-continued practice, with which he was perfectly well acquainted, but without success. he grew more and more peremptory, insisting on having the book solely on the ground that it went under his limit. at length, after some months of negotiation, mr. brown, on being made acquainted with the whole correspondence, very kindly, to relieve me of the dilemma, sent the book to mr. lenox without a word of comment or explanation, except that, though it went also below his higher limit, he yielded it to mr. lenox for peace.... from that time i resorted, in cases of duplicate orders from them, to the expedient of always putting the lot in at one bid above the lower limit, which, after all, i believe is the fairer way in the case of positive orders. this sometimes cost one of them a good deal more money, but it abated the chafing and generally gave satisfaction. both thought the old method the fairest when they got the prize. but i was obliged, on the new system of bidding, to insist on the purchaser keeping the book without the option of returning it." there can be no doubt that the latter plan was the most satisfactory. some persons appear to be under the impression that whatever a book fetches at a public sale must be its true value, and that, as the encounter is open and public, too much is not likely to be paid by the buyer; but this is a great mistake, and prices are often realized at a good sale which are greatly in advance of those at which the same books are standing unsold in second-hand booksellers' shops. much knowledge is required by those who wish to buy with success at sales. books vary greatly in price at different periods, and it is a mistake to suppose, from the high prices realized at celebrated sales, which are quoted in all the papers, that books are constantly advancing in price. although many have gone up, many others have gone down, and at no time probably were good and useful books to be bought so cheap as now. if we look at old sale catalogues we shall find early printed books, specimens of old english poetry and the drama, fetching merely a fraction of what would have to be given for them now; but, on the other hand, we shall find pounds then given for standard books which would not now realize the same number of shillings; this is specially the case with classics. the following passage from hearne's _diaries_ on the fluctuations in prices is of interest in this connection:--"the editions of classicks of the first print (commonly called _editones principes_) that used to go at prodigious prices are now strangely lowered; occasioned in good measure by mr. thomas rawlinson, my friend, being forced to sell many of his books, in whose auction these books went cheap, tho' english history and antiquities went dear: and yet this gentleman was the chief man that raised many curious and classical books so high, by his generous and courageous way of bidding."[ ] these first editions, however, realize large prices at the present time, as has been seen at the sale of the sunderland library. it is experience only that will give the necessary knowledge to the book buyer, and no rules laid down in books can be of any real practical value in this case. persons who know nothing of books are too apt to suppose that what they are inclined to consider exorbitant prices are matters of caprice, but this is not so. there is generally a very good reason for the high price. we must remember that year by year old and curious books become scarcer, and the number of libraries where they are locked up increase; thus while the demand is greater, the supply diminishes, and the price naturally becomes higher. a unique first edition of a great author is surely a possession to be proud of, and it is no ignoble ambition to wish to obtain it. footnotes: [ ] _libraries and founders of libraries_, , p. . [ ] _reliquiæ hearnianæ_, , vol. ii. p. . chapter iii. public libraries. libraries may broadly be divided into public and private, and as private libraries will vary according to the special idiosyncrasies of their owners, so still more will public libraries vary in character according to the public they are intended for. the answer therefore to the question--how to form a public library?--must depend upon the character of the library which it is proposed to form. up to the period when free town libraries were first formed, collections of books were usually intended for students; but when the public libraries' acts were passed, a great change took place, and libraries being formed for general readers, and largely with the object of fostering the habit of reading, an entirely new idea of libraries came into existence. the old idea of a library was that of a place where books that were wanted could be found, but the new idea is that of an educational establishment, where persons who know little or nothing of books can go to learn what to read. the new idea has naturally caused a number of points to be discussed which were never thought of before. but even in town libraries there will be great differences. thus in such places as birmingham, liverpool, and manchester, the free libraries should be smaller british museums, and in this spirit their founders have worked; but in smaller and less important towns a more modest object has to be kept in view, and the wants of readers, more than those of consulters of books, have to be considered. mr. beriah botfield has given a very full account of the contents of the libraries spread about the country and associated with the different cathedrals in his _notes on the cathedral libraries of england_, . these libraries have mostly been formed upon the same plan, and consist very largely of the works of the fathers, and of old divinity. some contain also old editions of the classics, and others fine early editions of english authors. in former times these libraries were much neglected, and many of the books were lost; but the worst instance of injury to a library occurred at lincoln at the beginning of the present century, when a large number of caxtons, pynsons, wynkyn de wordes, etc., were sold to dr. dibdin, and modern books purchased for the library with the proceeds. dibdin printed a list of his treasures under the title of "the lincolne nosegay." mr. botfield has reprinted this catalogue in his book. the first chapter of the _united states report on public libraries_ is devoted to public libraries a hundred years ago. mr. h.e. scudder there describes some american libraries which were founded in the last century. one of these was the loganian library of philadelphia. here is an extract from the will of james logan, the founder-- "in my library, which i have left to the city of philadelphia for the advancement and facilitating of classical learning, are above one hundred volumes of authors, in folio, all in greek, with mostly their versions. all the roman classics without exception. all the greek mathematicians, viz. archimedes, euclid, ptolemy, both his geography and almagest, which i had in greek (with theon's commentary, in folio, above pages) from my learned friend fabricius, who published fourteen volumes of his _bibliothèque grecque_, in quarto, in which, after he had finished his account of ptolemy, on my inquiring of him at hamburgh, how i should find it, having long sought for it in vain in england, he sent it to me out of his own library, telling me it was so scarce that neither prayers nor price could purchase it; besides, there are many of the most valuable latin authors, and a great number of modern mathematicians, with all the three editions of newton, dr. watts, halley, etc." the inscription on the house of the philadelphia library is well worthy of repetition here. it was prepared by franklin, with the exception of the reference to himself, which was inserted by the committee. be it remembered, in honor of the philadelphia youth (then chiefly artificers), that in mdccxxxi they cheerfully, at the instance of benjamin franklin, one of their number, instituted the philadelphia library, which, though small at first, is become highly valuable and extensively useful, and which the walls of this edifice are now destined to contain and preserve: the first stone of whose foundation was here placed the thirty-first day of august, . mr. f.b. perkins, of the boston public library, contributed to the _report on public libraries in the united states_ a useful chapter on "how to make town libraries successful" (pp. - ). the two chief points upon which he lays particular stress, and which may be said to form the texts for his practical remarks, are: ( ) that a public library for popular use must be managed not only as a literary institution, but also as a business concern; and ( ) that it is a mistake to choose books of too thoughtful or solid a character. he says, "it is vain to go on the principle of collecting books that people ought to read, and afterwards trying to coax them to read them. the only practical method is to begin by supplying books that people already want to read, and afterwards to do whatever shall be found possible to elevate their reading tastes and habits." a series of articles on "how to start libraries in small towns" was published in the _library journal_ (vol. i. pp. , , , , , ), and mr. axon's _hints on the formation of small libraries_ has already been mentioned. we must not be too rigid in the use of the term public libraries, and we should certainly include under this description those institutional libraries which, although primarily intended for the use of the members of the societies to which they belong, can usually be consulted by students who are properly introduced. of public libraries first in order come the great libraries of a nation, such as the british museum. these are supplied by means of the copyright law, but the librarians are not from this cause exonerated from the troubles attendant on the formation of a library. there are old books and privately printed and foreign books to be bought, and it is necessary that the most catholic spirit should be displayed by the librarians. the same may be said in a lesser degree of the great libraries of the more important towns. in england the universities have noble libraries, more especially those of oxford and cambridge, but although some colleges possess fine collections of books, college libraries are not as a rule kept up to a very high standard. the united states report contains a full account of the college libraries in america (pp. - ). the libraries of societies are to a large extent special ones, and my brother, the late mr. b.r. wheatley, in a paper read before the conference of librarians, , entitled "hints on library management, so far as relates to the circulation of books," particularly alluded to this fact. he wrote, "our library is really a medical and surgical section of a great public library. taking the five great classes of literature, i suppose medicine and its allied sciences may be considered as forming a thirtieth of the whole, and, as our books number , , we are, as it were, a complete section of a public library of nearly a million volumes in extent." the united states report contains several chapters on special libraries, thus chapter is devoted to those of schools and asylums; , to theological libraries; , to law; , to medical; and , to scientific libraries. for the formation of special libraries, special bibliographies will be required, and for information on this subject reference should be made to chapter vi. of the present work. when we come to deal with the free public libraries, several ethical questions arise, which do not occur in respect to other libraries. one of the most pressing of these questions refers to the amount of fiction read by the ordinary frequenters of these libraries. this point is alluded to in the united states report on public libraries. mr. j.p. quincy, in the chapter on free libraries (p. ), writes, "surely a state which lays heavy taxes upon the citizen in order that children may be taught to read is bound to take some interest in what they read; and its representatives may well take cognizance of the fact that an increased facility for obtaining works of sensational fiction is not the special need of our country at the close of the first century of its independence." he mentions a free library in germanstown, pa., sustained by the liberality of a religious body, and frequented by artisans and working people of both sexes. it had been in existence six years in , and then contained volumes. no novels are admitted into the library. the following is a passage from the librarian's report of : "in watching the use of our library as it is more and more resorted to by the younger readers of our community, i have been much interested in its influence in weaning them from a desire for works of fiction. on first joining the library, the new comers often ask for such books, but failing to procure them, and having their attention turned to works of interest and instruction, in almost every instance they settle down to good reading and cease asking for novels. i am persuaded that much of this vitiated taste is cultivated by the purveyors to the reading classes, and that they are responsible for an appetite they often profess to deplore, but continue to cater to, under the plausible excuse that the public will have such works." mr. justin winsor in chapter (reading in popular libraries) expresses a somewhat different view. he writes, "every year many young readers begin their experiences with the library. they find all the instructive reading they ought to have in their school books, and frequent the library for story books. these swell the issues of fiction, but they prevent the statistics of that better reading into which you have allured the older ones, from telling as they should in the average." at the london conference of librarians ( ), mr. p. cowell, librarian of the liverpool public library, read a paper on the admission of fiction in free public libraries, where he discussed the subject in a very fair manner, and deplored the high percentage of novel reading in these libraries. at the second annual meeting of the library association ( ) mr. j. taylor kay, librarian of owens college, manchester, in his paper on the provision of novels in rate-supported libraries, more completely condemned this provision. he concluded his paper with these words: "clearly a hard and fast line must be drawn. a distinct refusal by the library committees to purchase a single novel or tale would be appreciated by the rate-payers. the suggestion of a sub-committee to read this literature would not be tolerated, and no man whose time is of value would undergo the infliction. the libraries would attain their true position, and the donations would certainly be of a higher class, if the aims of the committees were known to be higher. manchester has already curtailed its issues of novels. it has been in the vanguard on the education question: and let us hope it will be true to its traditions, to its noble impulses, and lead the van in directing the educational influence of the free libraries, and striking out altogether any expenditure in the dissemination of this literature." this question probably would not have come to the front if it were not that the educational value of free libraries, as the complement of board schools, has been very properly put forward by their promoters. with this aim in view, it does startle one somewhat to see the completely disproportionate supply of novels in the free libraries. this often rises to per cent. of the total supply, and in some libraries even a higher percentage has been reached. there are, however, exceptions. at the baltimore peabody institute fiction did not rise to more than one-tenth of the total reading. the following are some figures of subjects circulated at that library above :-- belles lettres fiction biography greek and latin classics history (american) law natural history theology periodicals (literary) periodicals (scientific) mr. cowell says that during the year ending st august, , , volumes were issued at the reference library alone (liverpool free public library); of these , were strictly novels. the high-percentage of novel reading is not confined to free public libraries, for we find that in the odd fellows' library of san francisco, in , , volumes of prose fiction were lent out of a total of , . the other high figures being essays, ; history, ; biography and travels, . in the college of the city of new york, of the books taken out by students between nov. , and nov. , volumes were novels, the next highest numbers were science, ; poetry, ; history, .[ ] in considering this question one naturally asks if the masterpieces of our great authors, which every one should read, are to be mixed up with the worthless novels constantly being published in the condemnation of fiction; but, to some extent, both mr. cowell and mr. kay answer this. the first of these gentlemen writes: "as to the better class novels, which are so graphic in their description of places, costumes, pageantry, men, and events, i regret to say that they are not the most popular with those who stand in need of their instructive descriptions. i could generally find upon the library shelves 'harold,' 'the last of the barons,' 'westward ho!' 'hypatia,' 'ivanhoe,' 'waverley,' 'lorna doone,' etc., when not a copy of the least popular of the works of mrs. henry wood, 'ouida,' miss braddon, or rhoda broughton were to be had." mr. kay corroborates this opinion in his paper. most of us recognize the value of honest fiction for children and the overwrought brains of busy men, but the reading of novels of any kind can only be justified as a relaxation, and it is a sad fact that there is a large class of persons who will read nothing but novels and who call all other books dry reading. upon the minds of this class fiction has a most enervating effect, and it is not to be expected that ratepayers will desire to increase this class by the indiscriminate supply of novels to the free libraries. some persons are so sanguine as to believe that readers will be gradually led from the lower species of reading to the higher; but there is little confirmation of this hope to be found in the case of the confirmed novel readers we see around us. the librarian who, with ample funds for the purpose, has the duty before him of forming a public library, sets forward on a pleasant task. he has the catalogues of all kinds of libraries to guide him, and he will be able to purchase the groundwork of his library at a very cheap rate, for probably at no time could sets of standard books be bought at so low a price as now. many books that are not wanted by private persons are indispensable for a public library, and there being little demand for them they can be obtained cheap. when the groundwork has been carefully laid, then come some of the difficulties of collecting. books specially required will not easily be obtained, and when they are found, the price will probably be a high one. books of reference will be expensive, and as these soon get out of date, they will frequently need renewal. footnotes: [ ] _library journal_, vol. ii. p. . chapter iv. private libraries. treating of private libraries, it will be necessary to consider their constitution under two heads, according as they are required in town or country. in london, for instance, where libraries of all kinds are easily accessible, a man need only possess books on his own particular hobby, and a good collection of books of reference; but in the country, away from public libraries, a well-selected collection of standard books will be necessary. . _town._ every one who loves books will be sure to have some favourite authors on special subjects of study respecting which he needs no instruction farther than that which is ready to his hand. books on these subjects he will need, both in town and country, if he possesses two houses. some collectors make their town house a sort of gathering-place for the accessions to their country libraries. here a class is completed, bound, and put in order, and then sent to the country to find its proper place in the family library. this is an age of books of reference, and as knowledge increases, and the books which impart it to readers become unwieldy from their multitude, there are sure to be forthcoming those who will reduce the facts into a handy form. i have gathered in the following pages the titles of some of the best books of reference which are to be obtained. many, if not all of these, are to be found in that magnificent library of reference--the reading room of the british museum. in some cases where the books are constantly being reprinted, dates have been omitted. there are, doubtless, many valuable works which i have overlooked, and some text-books i have had to leave out owing to the exigencies of space, but i trust that the present list will be found useful. _abbreviations._--dictionnaire des abréviations latines et françaises usitées dans les inscriptions lapidaires et métalliques, les manuscrits et les chartes du moyen age. par l. alph. chassant. quatrième édition. paris, . sm. vo. _anthropology._--notes and queries on anthropology, for the use of travellers and residents in uncivilized lands. drawn up by a committee appointed by the british association. london, . sm. vo. _antiquities._--dictionary of greek and roman antiquities. edited by dr. william smith. roy. vo. ---- dictionnaire des antiquités grecques et romaines d'après les textes et les monuments ... ouvrage rédigé ... sous la direction de ch. daremberg et edm. saglio. paris, . to. ---- the life of the greeks and romans described from antique monuments, by e. guhl and w. koner, translated from the third german edition by f. hueffer. london, . vo. ---- gallus or roman scenes of the time of augustus. by w.a. becker, translated by f. metcalfe. london. ---- charicles: illustrations of the private life of the ancient greeks. by w.a. becker, translated by f. metcalfe. london. _antiquities._--archæological index to remains of antiquity of the celtic, romano-british and anglo-saxon periods. by john yonge akerman. london, . vo. ---- introduction to english antiquities. by james eccleston. london, . vo. ---- the english archæologist's handbook. by henry godwin. oxford, . vo. _architecture._--a dictionary of the architecture and archæology of the middle ages.... by john britton. london, . ---- history of architecture in all countries, from the earliest times to the present day. by james fergusson. london, - . vols. vo. ---- nicholson's dictionary of the science and practice of architecture, building, carpentry, etc. new edition, edited by edward lomax and thomas gunyon. london. vols. to. ---- an encyclopædia of architecture, historical, theoretical, and practical. by joseph gwilt, revised by wyatt papworth. new edition. london, . vo. ---- the dictionary of architecture, issued by the architectural publication society. a to oz. vols. roy. to. (in progress.) ---- a glossary of terms used in grecian, roman, italian, and gothic architecture. fifth edition, enlarged. oxford, . vols. vo. ---- an encyclopædia of cottage, farm, and villa architecture and furniture.... by j.c. loudon. london, . vo. _arts, manufactures_, etc.--ure's dictionary of arts, manufactures, and mines, containing a clear exposition of their principles and practice. by robert hunt, assisted by f.w. rudler. seventh edition. london, . vols. vo. ---- spons' encyclopædia of the industrial arts, manufactures, and commercial products. london, . vols. roy. vo. ---- history of physical astronomy. by robert grant. london [ ]. a most valuable book, but now out of print and scarce. ---- an historical survey of the astronomy of the ancients. by g. cornewall lewis. london, . vo. _bible._--dictionary of the bible, comprising its antiquities, biography, mythology, and geography. by dr. william smith. roy. vo. ---- a biblical cyclopædia or dictionary of eastern antiquities, geography, natural history, sacred annals and biography, theology and biblical literature, illustrative of the old and new testaments. edited by john eadie, d.d., ll.d. twelfth edition. london, . vo. ---- the bible atlas of maps and plans to illustrate the geography and topography of the old and new testaments and the apocrypha, with explanatory notes by samuel clark, m.a. also a complete index of the geographical names ... by george grove. london, . to. _bible._ see _concordances_. _bibliography._--see chapters v. and vi. _biography._--mr. chancellor christie contributed a very interesting article to the _quarterly review_ (april, ) on biographical dictionaries, in which he details the history of the struggle between the publishers of the _biographie universelle_ and messrs. didot, whose dictionary was eventually entitled _nouvelle biographie générale_. the new edition of the _biographie universelle_ ( vols. imp. vo. paris, ) is an invaluable work. chalmers's biographical dictionary ( vols. vo. - ) is a mine of literary wealth, from which compilers have freely dug. rose's ( vols. vo. ) was commenced upon a very comprehensive plan, but the lives were considerably contracted before the work was completed. it is, however, a very useful work. l.b. phillips's "dictionary of biographical reference" contains , names, and gives the dates of birth and death, which in many instances is all the information the consulter requires, and should more be required, he is referred to the authority. this book is quite indispensable for every library. there are several national biographical dictionaries, and at last a thoroughly satisfactory biographia britannica is in course of publication by messrs. smith & elder. the "dictionary of national biography, edited by leslie stephen," has reached the fifth volume, and extends to bottisham. ---- robert chambers's biographical dictionary of eminent scotsmen (glasgow, - . vols. vo.) will be found useful. _biography._--dr. william allen's "american biographical dictionary" was published at boston in . ---- biographie nouvelle des contemporains ... par a.v. arnault [etc.]. paris, - . vols. vo. mr. edward smith points this book out to me as specially valuable for information respecting actors in the french revolution. ---- handbook of contemporary biography. by frederick martin. london, . sm. vo. ---- men of the time: a dictionary of contemporaries. eleventh edition. revised by thompson cooper. london, . sm. vo. a volume of pages should contain a fair representation of the men of the day, and yet it is ludicrously incomplete. the literary side is as much overdone as the scientific side is neglected. this is not the place to make a list of shortcomings, but it will probably astonish most of our readers to learn that such eminent men of the time as sir frederick abel, sir frederick bramwell, and the late dr. w.b. carpenter are not mentioned. as this book has as a high reputation, the editor should thoroughly revise it for a new edition. ---- men of the reign. a biographical dictionary of eminent characters of both sexes, who have died during the reign of queen victoria. edited by t. humphry ward. (uniform with "men of the time.") london, . _biography._--dictionnaire universel des contemporains.... par g. vapereau. cinquième edition. paris, . vo. ---- supplément. oct. . ---- biographie nationale des contemporains, redigée par une société de gens de lettres sous la direction de m. ernest glaeser. paris, . royal vo. ---- dictionnaire général de biographie contemporaine française et etrangère. par ad. bitard. paris, . vo. ---- to this list of contemporary biography may be added the indexes of obituary notices published by the index society. (_bishops._)--fasti ecclesiæ anglicanæ, or a calendar of the principal ecclesiastical dignitaries in england and wales, and of the chief officers in the universities of oxford and cambridge, from the earliest time to the year . compiled by john le neve. corrected and continued from to the present time by t. duffus hardy. oxford, . vols. vo. ---- fasti ecclesiæ hibernicæ. the succession of the prelates and members of cathedral bodies in ireland. by henry cotton, d.c.l. dublin, - . vols. vo. (_lawyers._)--lives of the chief justices of england. by john lord campbell. second edition. london, . vols. vo. ---- lives of the lord chancellors and keepers of the great seal of england. by john lord campbell. fourth edition. london, . vols. sm. vo. (_scientific men._)--poggendorff (j.c.). biographisch-literarisches handwörterbuch zur geschichte der exacten wissenschaften, enthaltend nachweisungen über lebensverhältnisse und leistungen von mathematikern, astronomen, physikern, chemikern, mineralogen, geologen u.s.w. aller völker und zeiten. leipzig, . roy. vo. * * * * * (_cambridge._)--athenæ cantabrigienses. by charles henry cooper, f.s.a., and thompson cooper. cambridge, - . vol. i. - . vol. ii. - . vo. ---- graduati cantabrigienses, - . cura josephi romilly, a.m. cantabrigiæ, . ---- graduati cantabrigienses, - . cura henrici richardo luard, s.t.p. cantabrigiæ, . (_oxford._)--athenæ and fasti oxonienses. by ant. à wood. new edition, with notes, additions, and continuation by the rev. dr. p. bliss. vols. to. - . ---- catalogue of all graduates in the university of oxford, - . oxford, . vo. (_dublin._)--a catalogue of graduates who have proceeded to degrees in the university of dublin from the earliest recorded commencements to july, , with supplement to december , . dublin, . vo. vol. ii. - . dublin, . vo. (_eton._)--alumni etonenses, or a catalogue of the provosts and fellows of eton college and king's college, cambridge, from the foundation in to the year . by thomas harwood. birmingham, . to. (_westminster._)--the list of the queen's scholars of st. peter's college, westminster, admitted on that foundation since , and of such as have been thence elected to christ church, oxford, and trinity college, cambridge, from the foundation by queen elizabeth, , to the present time. collected by joseph welch. a new edition ... by an old king's scholar. london, . roy. vo. * * * * * _botany._--an encyclopædia of trees and shrubs; being the arboretum et fruticetum britannicum abridged.... by j.c. loudon. london, . vo. ---- loudon's encyclopædia of plants ... new edition corrected to the present time. edited by mrs. loudon. london, . vo. ---- the vegetable kingdom; or the structure, classification and uses of plants, illustrated upon the natural system. by john lindley, ph.d., f.r.s. third edition. london, . vo. ---- international dictionary of plants in latin, german, english and french, for botanists, and especially horticulturists, agriculturists, students of forestry and pharmaceutists, by dr. william ulrich. leipzig, . vo. _botany._--topographical botany: being local and personal records towards shewing the distribution of british plants traced through counties and vice-counties of england, wales and scotland. by hewett cottrell watson. second edition, corrected and enlarged. london, . vo. the need of an authoritative list of botanical names must be frequently felt by a large number of writers, those who have but little knowledge of the science even more than botanists themselves. the following work will be found useful for this purpose, but there is reason to hope that a much larger and more exhaustive list will shortly be published, as mr. daydon jackson, secretary of the linnean society, is, we believe, now engaged upon such a work. "nomenclator botanicus seu synonymia plantarum universalis.... autore ernesto theoph. steudel; editio secunda, stuttgartiæ et tubingæ, ." royal vo. _cards._--facts and speculations on the origin and history of playing cards. by william andrew chatto. london, . vo. ---- a descriptive catalogue of playing and other cards in the british museum, accompanied by a concise general history of the subject, and remarks on cards of divination and of a politico-historical character. by william hughes willshire, m.d. printed by order of the trustees, . royal vo. _chemistry._--a dictionary of chemistry and the allied branches of other sciences, founded on that of the late dr. ure. by henry watts. - . vols. vo. supplement, . second supplement, . third supplement, - . vols. ---- handbook of modern chemistry, inorganic and organic, for the use of students. by charles meymott tidy, m.b., f.c.s. london, . vo. ---- handbook of chemistry. by l. gmelin. trans. by h. watts. london, - . vols. vo. ---- industrial chemistry, based upon the german edition of payen's "précis de chimie industrielle," edited by b.h. paul. london, . ---- a treatise on chemistry. by [sir] h.e. roscoe and c. schorlemmer. london. vo. _coins._--a numismatic manual. by john yonge akerman, f.s.a. london, . vo. ---- the silver coins of england arranged and described by e. hawkins. london, . vo. ---- the gold coins of england arranged and described, being a sequel to mr. hawkins's silver coins of england, by his grandson, robert lloyd kenyon. london, . vo. _commerce._--a dictionary, practical, theoretical, and historical, of commerce and commercial navigation. by the late j.r. mcculloch. latest edition by a.j. wilson. london, . vo. ---- history of british commerce, - . by leone levi. london, . vo. _concordances._ _aristophanes._--a complete concordance to the comedies and fragments of aristophanes. by henry dunbar, m.d. oxford, . to. _bible._--a complete concordance to the holy scriptures of the old and new testaments. by alexander cruden, m.a. london, . to. second edition , third edition ; this is the last corrected by the author. most of the concordances published since are founded upon cruden. ---- an analytical concordance to the holy scriptures, or the bible presented under distinct and classified heads of topics. edited by john eadie, d.d., ll.d. london and glasgow, . vo. _homer._--a complete concordance to the iliad of homer. by guy lushington prendergast. london, . to. ---- a complete concordance to the odyssey and hymns of homer, to which is added a concordance to the parallel passages in the iliad, odyssey and hymns. by henry dunbar, m.d. oxford, . to. _milton._--a complete concordance to the poetical works of milton. by guy lushington prendergast, madras civil service. madras, . to. originally published in parts. ---- a complete concordance to the poetical works of john milton. by charles dexter cleveland, ll.d. london, . sm. vo. the rev. h.j. todd compiled a verbal index to the whole of milton's poetry, which was appended to the second edition of his life of the poet ( ). _pope._--a concordance to the works of alexander pope. by edwin abbott, with an introduction by edwin a. abbott, d.d. london, . royal vo. _shakespeare._--the complete concordance to shakspere: being a verbal index to all the passages in the dramatic works of the poet. by mrs. cowden clarke. london, . royal vo. ---- shakespeare-lexicon: a complete dictionary of all the english words, phrases and constructions in the works of the poet. by dr. alexander schmidt. (berlin and london), . vols. royal vo. ---- a concordance to shakespeare's poems: an index to every word therein contained. by mrs. horace howard furness. philadelphia, . ---- a handbook index to the works of shakespeare, including references to the phrases, manners, customs, proverbs, songs, particles, etc., which are used or alluded to by the great dramatist. by j.o. halliwell, esq., f.r.s. london, . vo. only fifty copies printed. _tennyson._--a concordance of the entire works of alfred tennyson, p.l., d.c.l., f.r.s. by d. barron brightwell. london, . vo. _tennyson._--concordance to the works of alfred tennyson, poet laureate. london, . "the holy grail," etc., is indexed separately. ---- an index to "in memoriam." london, . * * * * * _costume._--a cyclopædia of costume or dictionary of dress, including notices of contemporaneous fashions on the continent.... by james robinson planché, somerset herald. london, - . vols. to. vol. i. dictionary. vol. ii. general history of costume in europe. _councils._--councils and ecclesiastical documents relating to great britain and ireland. edited after spelman and wilkins, by arthur west haddan, b.d., and william stubbs, m.a. oxford, . vol. ii. part i. . vol. iii. . vo. ---- england's sacred synods. a constitutional history of the convocations of the clergy from the earliest records of christianity in britain to the date of the promulgation of the present book of common prayer, including a list of all councils, ecclesiastical as well as civil, held in england in which the clergy have been concerned. by james wayland joyce, m.a. london, . vo. _dates._--see _history_. _dictionaries._ (_english._)--one of the most useful english dictionaries is the "imperial dictionary" by ogilvie, which has been edited with great care by charles annandale.[ ] the vocabulary is very full, the etymology is trustworthy, and the definitions are clear and satisfactory. the engravings which are interspersed with the text are excellent, and greatly add to the utility of the dictionary. for years preparations have been made for a standard english dictionary, and at last the work has been commenced under the able editorship of dr. james a.h. murray. in , on the suggestion of archbishop trench, the philological society undertook the preparation of a dictionary, "which by the completeness of its vocabulary, and by the application of the historical method to the life and use of words, might be worthy of the english language and of english scholarship." the late mr. herbert coleridge and dr. furnivall undertook the editorship, and a large number of volunteers came forward to read books and extract quotations. mr. coleridge died in the midst of his work, and upon dr. furnivall devolved the entire editorship in addition to his other onerous duties as secretary of the philological society. he projected the admirable system of sub-editing, which proved so successful. as the work proceeded several of the most energetic and most competent workers undertook to sub-edit the materials already collected, each one taking a separate letter of the alphabet. some two million quotations were amassed, but still the man was wanting who would devote his life to forming the dictionary from these materials. in course of time dr. murray came forward, and in he prepared some specimens for submission to the delegates of the clarendon press, who agreed to publish the dictionary. the first part was published in , and the second in .[ ] it is hoped that in future it will be possible to issue a part every six months. at present the alphabet is carried down to batten. this is one of the most magnificent pieces of work that has ever been produced in any country, and it is an honour to every one concerned. to the philological society who conceived it, to dr. murray and his staff who have devoted so much labour and intellect to its production, and to the clarendon press who have published it to the world. it is, moreover, an honour to the country which now possesses a well-grounded hope of having, at no distant day, the finest historical dictionary ever produced. in this connection the _encyclopædic dictionary_, now in course of publication by messrs. cassell, should be mentioned as a valuable work. up to a few years ago it was impossible to obtain any satisfactory etymological information on english words from our dictionaries. mr. hensleigh wedgwood partly removed this reproach by the publication of his very valuable "dictionary of english etymology" in ,[ ] but in this work mr. wedgwood only dealt with a portion of the vocabulary. professor skeat commenced the publication of his indispensable "etymological dictionary of the english language" (clarendon press) in , and in he produced a second edition. in professor skeat published "a concise etymological dictionary," which is something more than an abridgment, and a book which should find a place in all libraries of reference. a glossarial index to the printed english literature of the thirteenth century. by h. coleridge. london, . vo. this was one of the earliest publications which grew out of the preparations for the great philological society's dictionary. stratmann's dictionary of the old english language (third edition, krefeld, ) is an indispensable work. a new edition, prepared by mr. h. bradley, is about to be issued by the clarendon press. of single volume dictionaries, mr. hyde clarke's "new and comprehensive dictionary of the english language as spoken and written" in weale's educational series (price _s._ _d._) is one of the most valuable. i have time after time found words there which i have searched for in vain in more important looking dictionaries. mr. clarke claims that he was the first to raise the number of words registered in an english dictionary to , . the rev. james stormonth's "dictionary of the english language, pronouncing, etymological, and explanatory," is a work of great value. it is so well arranged and printed that it becomes a pleasure to consult it. those who are interested in dialects will require all the special dictionaries which have been published, and these may be found in the bibliography now being compiled by the english dialect society, but those who do not make this a special study will be contented with "a dictionary of archaic and provincial words, obsolete phrases, proverbs, and ancient customs, from the fourteenth century, by j.o. halliwell" (fifth edition, london, , vols. vo.), which is well-nigh indispensable to all. nares's glossary ( - , new edition, by j.o. halliwell and t. wright, vols. vo. ) is also required by those who make a study of old english literature. the following is a short indication of some of the most useful working dictionaries: _arabic._--lane. _greek._--liddell & scott's greek-english lexicon, both in to. and in abridged form in square mo. _latin._--the clarendon press publish a latin dictionary founded on andrews's edition of freund, and edited by c.t. lewis and c. short, which is of great value. smith's dictionary, both the large edition and the smaller one, and that of riddle are good. _french._--the dictionaries of fleming and tibbins, and spiers, keep up their character, but for idioms the international french and english dictionary of hamilton and legros is the best. for smaller dictionaries cassell's is both cheap and good. bellows's pocket dictionary has obtained considerable fame, but those who use it need a good eyesight on account of the smallness of the type. it is, however, beautifully printed. the standard french dictionaries of that language alone are the noble work of littré and the excellent dictionary of poitevin ( vols. to.). for early french godefroy's elaborate work, which is now in progress, must be consulted. _german._--fluegel's german and english dictionary still holds its own, but koehler's dictionary is also excellent. hilpert's and lucas's dictionaries, both good ones, are now out of print. of standard german dictionaries grimm's great work is still in progress. sanders's dictionary is also of great value. _danish and norwegian._--the dictionary by ferrall, repp, rosing and larsen is good. _dutch._--calisch ( vols. vo. ). _hebrew._--fuerst, gesenius. _icelandic._--vigfusson. _italian._--baretti's dictionary still keeps up its character, but millhouse's work is also good. _portuguese._--vieyra. _russian._--alexandrow. _sanscrit._--monier williams. boehtlingk and roth. _pâli._--childers. _spanish._--neumann and baretti, and also velasquez. _swedish._--oman. * * * * * _drama._--biographia dramatica; or a companion to the playhouse ... originally compiled in the year by david erskine baker, continued thence to by isaac reed, and brought down to the end of november, ... by stephen jones. london, . vols. vo. ---- a dictionary of old english plays existing either in print or in manuscript, from the earliest times to the close of the seventeenth century; by james o. halliwell, esq., f.r.s. london, . vo. _drugs._--pharmacographia: a history of the principal drugs of vegetable origin met with in great britain and british india. by friedrich a. flückiger, ph.d., and daniel hanbury, f.r.s. second edition. london, . vo. _ecclesiology._--dictionary of doctrinal and historical theology. edited by the rev. j.h. blunt, m.a. second edition. london, . imp. vo. ---- dictionary of christian antiquities. by william smith, ll.d., and professor s. cheatham. london, - . vols. royal vo. ---- dictionary of sects, heresies, ecclesiastical parties, and schools of religious thought. edited by the rev. john henry blunt, m.a. london, . imp. vo. ---- glossary of ecclesiastical ornament and costume, compiled from ancient authorities and examples. by a. welby pugin, architect.... enlarged and revised by the rev. bernard smith, m.a. third edition. london, . to. ---- a glossary of liturgical and ecclesiastical terms. compiled and arranged by the rev. frederick george lee, d.c.l. london, . sq. vo. ---- see _ritual_. _encyclopædias._--the encyclopædia britannica, or a dictionary of arts, sciences and general literature. ninth edition. edinburgh, . to. now in course of publication. ---- encyclopædia metropolitana, or universal dictionary of knowledge.... london, - . vols. to. ---- chambers's encyclopædia. vols. royal vo. ---- dictionary of science, literature, and art. by w.t. brande. . new edition, edited by the rev. j.w. cox. london, - . vols. vo. _encyclopædias._--rees's cyclopædia ( vols., plates vols. , to.) can be bought excessively cheap, and is well worth a place in a library where room can be found for it, as many of its articles have never been superseded. ---- grand dictionnaire universel du xix^e siècle français, historique, géographique, mythologique, bibliographique, littéraire, artistique, scientifique, etc.... par pierre larousse. paris, - . vols. to. supplément, tome , . ---- dictionnaire universel des sciences, des lettres et des arts ... redigé avec la collaboration d'auteurs spéciaux par m.n. bouillet ... douzième édition. paris, . vo. _geography._--a general dictionary of geography, descriptive, physical, statistical, historical, forming a complete gazetteer of the world. by a. keith johnston. new edition. london, . vo. ---- the library cyclopædia of geography, descriptive, physical, political and historical, forming a new gazetteer of the world. by james bryce, m.a. and keith johnston. london, . royal vo. ---- index geographicus, being a list alphabetically arranged of the principal places on the globe, with the countries and sub-divisions of the countries in which they are situated and their latitudes and longitudes. compiled specially with reference to keith johnston's royal atlas, but applicable to all modern atlases and maps, edinburgh, . roy. vo. _geography._--etymologisch-geographisches lexikon. separat-ausgabe des lexikalischen theils der nomina geographica von dr. j.j. egli. leipzig, . royal vo. ---- dictionary of greek and roman geography, by various writers, edited by dr. w. smith. london, . vols. vo. (_scotland._)--ordnance gazetteer of scotland. a survey of scottish topography, statistical, biographical and historical. edited by francis h. groome. edinburgh, . vol. , roy. vo. (_france._)--santini. dictionnaire général ... des communes de france et des colonies. paris. vo. ---- dictionnaire des postes de la république française. ^e édition. rennes, . roy. vo. (_italy._)--il libro dé comuni del regno d'italia. compilato sopra elementi officiali da achille moltedo. napoli, . roy. vo. (_united states._)--the national gazetteer, a geographical dictionary of the united states.... by l. de colange, ll.d. london, . roy. vo. (_india._)--cyclopædia of india and of eastern and southern asia, commercial, industrial, and scientific.... edited by edward balfour.... second edition. madras, - . vols. roy. vo. third edition. london, . vols. the first edition was published in , and two supplements in . _geology._--a catalogue of british fossils: comprising the genera and species hitherto described, with references to their geological distribution.... by john morris, f.g.s. second edition. london, . vo. _geology._--principles of geology. by sir charles lyell. th edition. london, - . vols. vo. ---- manual of elementary geology. by sir charles lyell. london, . vo. _history._--blair's chronological and historical tables from the creation to the present times.... [edited by sir henry ellis.] imp. vo. london, . ---- atlas universel d'histoire et de géographie contenant ^e la chronologie.... ^e la généologie.... ^e la géographie.... par m.n. bouillet. deuxième édition. paris, . vo. ---- dictionnaire universel d'histoire et de géographie contenant ^e l'histoire proprement dite.... ^e la biographie universelle.... ^e la mythologie.... ^e la géographie ancienne et moderne. par m.n. bouillet ... ouvrage revu et continué par a chassang. nouvelle édition (vingt-cinquième), avec un supplement. paris, . vo. ---- the map of europe by treaty, showing the various political and territorial changes which have taken place since the general peace of , with numerous maps and notes. by edward hertslet, c.b. london, . vol. , - ; vol. , - ; vol. , - .--this work shows the changes which have taken place in the map of europe by treaty or other international arrangements. it contains a list of treaties, etc., between great britain and foreign powers for the maintenance of the peace of europe and for the settlement of european questions, - . _history._--moniteur des dates, contenant un million des renseignements biographiques, généalogiques et historiques. par edouard oettinger. dresde, - . thin vols. to. tomes , , , supplément commencé par e.m. oettinger considérablement augmenté ... par dr. hugo schramm. leipzig, - . ---- haydn's dictionary of dates and universal information relating to all ages. th edition, by benjamin vincent. london. ---- the manual of dates. a dictionary of reference of the most important facts and events in the history of the world. by george h. townsend. fifth edition entirely remodelled and edited by frederick martin. london, . vo. ---- encyclopædia of chronology, historical and biographical. by b.b. woodward, b.a., and william l.r. gates. london, . vo. ---- the dictionary of chronology, or historical and statistical register. compiled and edited by william henry overall, f.s.a. london, . vo. ---- the anniversary calendar, natal book, and universal mirror; embracing anniversaries of persons, events, institutions, and festivals, of all denominations, historical, sacred and domestic, in every period and state of the world. london, . vols. vo. _history._--an epitome of the civil and literary chronology of rome and constantinople, from the death of augustus to the death of heraclius. by henry fynes clinton, m.a. edited by the rev. c.j. fynes clinton, m.a. oxford, . vo. ---- fasti romani: the civil and literary chronology of rome and constantinople, from the death of augustus to the death of justin ii. [to the death of heraclius]. by henry fynes clinton, m.a. oxford, - . vols. to. ---- fasti hellenici: the civil and literary chronology of greece, from the earliest accounts to the death of augustus. by henry fynes clinton, m.a. oxford, - . vols. to. ---- descriptive catalogue of materials relating to the history of great britain and ireland to the end of the reign of henry vii. by thomas duffus hardy. london, - . vol. i. from the roman period to the norman invasion. vol. ii. a.d. to a.d. . vol. iii. a.d. to a.d. . ---- the dictionary of english history. edited by sidney j. low, b.a., and f.s. pulling, m.a. london, . vo. ---- introduction to the study of english history. by samuel r. gardiner, hon. ll.d., and j. bass mullinger, m.a. london, . vo. the second part by mr. mullinger is devoted to authorities, and is a model of what such a work should be. _history._--handy-book of rules and tables for verifying dates with the christian era ... with regnal years of english sovereigns from the norman conquest to the present time, a.d. to . by john j. bond. london, . sm. vo. ---- the annals of england: an epitome of english history, from contemporary writers, the rolls of parliament and other public records. library edition. oxford and london, . vo. contains some valuable information as to the sources of history in the appendix. ---- the representative history of great britain and ireland, being a history of the house of commons and of the counties, cities, and boroughs of the united kingdom from the earliest period. by t.h.b. oldfield. london, . vols. vo. ---- an index to "the times," and to the topics and events of the year . [by j. giddings.] london, . vo. ---- an index to "the times," and to the topics and events of the year . by j. giddings. london, . vo. ---- index to "the times" newspaper, , to september, . london. . ---- annals of our time, from the accession of queen victoria, , to the peace of versailles, . by j. irving. london, . vo. supplement (feb. -july, ). london, . vo. (_france._)--dictionnaire historique de la france.... par ludovic lalanne. paris, . vo. * * * * * _insurance._--the insurance cyclopædia, being a dictionary of the definition of terms used in connexion with the theory and practice of insurance in all its branches; a biographical summary ... a bibliographical reportery.... by cornelius walford. london, vol. , , to vol. . royal vo. _language._--see _dictionaries_, _philology_. _law._--the law-dictionary, explaining the rise, progress, and present state of the british law.... by sir thomas edlyne tomlins; fourth edition by thomas colpitts granger. london, . vols. to. ---- wharton's law-lexicon, forming an epitome of the law of england ... seventh edition by j.m. lely, m.a. london, . royal vo. ---- a law dictionary, adapted to the constitution and laws of the united states of america and of the several states of the american union.... by john bouvier. fourteenth edition. philadelphia, . ---- the lawyer's reference manual of law books and citations. by charles c. soule. boston, . vo. ---- ancient law; its connection with the early history of society, and its relation to modern ideas. by h.s. maine. london, . vo. _law._--lectures in jurisprudence. by john austin. third edition, revised and edited by r. campbell. london, . vols. vo. ---- justice of the peace and parish officer. by r. burn. the th edition was published in . the th edition of archbold's justice of the peace appeared in . ---- blackstone's commentaries on the laws of england. student's edition. _literature._ (_english._)--cyclopædia of english literature. edited by robert chambers. edinburgh, . new edition by robert carruthers. edinburgh. vols. royal vo. ---- dictionary of english literature, being a comprehensive guide to english authors and their works. by davenport adams. london, n.d. sq. vo. ---- professor henry morley's _english writers_, his _tables of english literature_, and his volumes of selections, entitled _library of english literature_, will be found of great value. (_american._)--cyclopædia of american literature: embracing personal and critical notices of authors, and selections from their writings.... by evert a. duyckinck and george l. duyckinck. edited to date by m. laird simons. philadelphia, . vols. imp. vo. ---- the poets and poetry of europe, with introductions and biographical notices, by henry wadsworth longfellow. london, . roy. vo. (_polish._)--bentkowskiego (f.). historya literatury polskiey. warszawie, . vols. vo. (_russian._)--otto (friedrich). history of russian literature, with a lexicon of russian authors. translated from the german by george cox. oxford, . vo. (_spanish._)--ticknor (george). history of spanish literature. new york, . vols. vo. (_classical._)--a history of latin literature from ennius to boethius. by george augustus simcox, m.a. london, . vols. vo. ---- a history of roman classical literature. by r.w. browne, m.a. london, . vo. ---- a history of roman literature. by w.s. teuffel, translated by wilhelm wagner, ph.d. london, . vols. vo. ---- bibliographical clue to latin literature. edited after dr. e. hübner, with large additions by the rev. john e.b. mayor. london, . mo. ---- guide to the choice of classical books. by joseph b. mayor. third edition, with supplementary list. london, . * * * * * _manuscripts._--guide to the historian, the biographer, the antiquary, the man of literary curiosity, and the collector of autographs, towards the verification of manuscripts, by reference to engraved facsimiles of handwriting. [by dawson turner.] yarmouth, . roy. vo. a most valuable alphabetical index of the names of celebrated men, with references to the books where specimens of their writing can be found. _mathematics._--dictionnaire des mathématiques appliqués.... par h. sonnet. paris, . roy. vo. _mechanics._--knight's american mechanical dictionary.... by edward h. knight. london and new york, - . vols. royal vo. ---- cyclopædia of useful arts, mechanical and chemical, manufactures, mining and engineering. edited by charles tomlinson. london, . vols. roy. vo. _medical._--the cyclopædia of anatomy and physiology. edited by robert b. todd, m.d., f.r.s. london, - . vols, in , royal vo. ---- a dictionary of practical medicine.... by james copland. london, . vols. vo. ---- an expository lexicon of the terms, ancient and modern, in medical and general science; including a complete medico-legal vocabulary.... by r.g. mayne, m.d. london, . vo. ---- cooper's dictionary of practical surgery and encyclopædia of surgical science. new edition brought down to the present time by samuel a. lane. london, . vols, royal vo. ---- medical lexicon: a dictionary of medical science ... by robley dunglison, m.d., ll.d. a new edition enlarged and thoroughly revised by richard j. dunglison, m.d. philadelphia, . roy. vo. _monograms._--dictionnaire des monogrammes, marques figurées, lettres initiales, noms abrégés, etc., avec lesquels les peintres, dessinateurs, graveurs et sculpteurs ont designé leurs noms. par françois brulliot. nouvelle édition. munich, - . parts. imp. vo. _music._--general history of the science and practice of music. by sir john hawkins. london, . vols. to. ---- history of music from the earliest ages to the present period. by charles burney. london, - . vols. to. ---- biographie universelle des musiciens et bibliographie générale de la musique. par f.j. fétis. deuxième édition. paris, - . vols. roy. vo. ---- supplément et complément, publiés sous la direction de m. arthur pougin. paris, - . vols. roy. vo. ---- dictionary of music and musicians. edited by [sir] g. grove. london, . vo. in progress. _mythology._--dictionary of greek and roman biography and mythology, edited by dr. w. smith. - . vols. vo. _natural history._--dictionary of natural history terms, with their derivations, including the various orders, genera, and species. by david h. mcnicoll, m.d. london, . sm. vo. _natural history._--see _botany_, _zoology_. _painters._--a general dictionary of painters.... by matthew pilkington, a.m. a new edition, corrected and revised by r. a. davenport. london, . vo. ---- a catalague raisonné of the works of the most eminent dutch, flemish, and french painters, ... to which is added a brief notice of the scholars and imitators of the great masters of the above schools. by john smith. london, - . parts. roy. vo. ---- the picture collector's manual, adapted to the professional man and the amateur; being a dictionary of painters ... together with an alphabetical arrangement of the scholars, imitators, and copyists of the various masters, and a classification of subjects. by james r. hobbes. london, . vols. vo. _peerage._--courthope's "historical peerage," founded on sir nicholas harris nicolas's "synopsis of the peerage," is an indispensable work, but it only refers to english titles. mr. solly's "index of hereditary titles of honour" contains the peerage and baronetage of england, scotland, and ireland. ---- the official baronage of england, to , by james e. doyle (vols. - . to.), has just appeared. _peerage._--of the current peerages, burke's, dod's, debrett's, and foster's, all have their points of merit. _periodicals._--catalogue of scientific serials of all countries, including the transactions of learned societies in the natural, physical and mathematical sciences, - . by samuel h. scudder. library of harvard university, . vo.--in this valuable list of periodicals, which is arranged geographically according to countries with an alphabet under each country, transactions and journals are joined together in the same arrangement. at the end there are an index of towns, an index of titles, and an index of minor subjects. ---- an index to periodical literature. by wm. fred. poole. new york. roy. vo. st ed. ; nd ed. ; rd ed. . ---- catalogue of scientific papers ( - ). compiled and published by the royal society of london. london, - . vols. to. ( - .) vol. , ; vol. , .--vol. , a-clu; vol. , coa-gra; vol. , gre-lez; vol. , lhe-poz; vol. , pra-tiz; vol. , tka-zyl; vol. , a-hyr; vol. , i-zwi. ---- the celebrated dr. thomas young published in the second volume of his _course of lectures on natural philosophy and the mechanical arts_ ( ) a most valuable catalogue of books and papers relating to the subject of his lectures, which is classified minutely, and occupies quarto pages in double columns. in kelland's new edition ( ) the references are abridged and inserted after the several lectures to which they refer. _philology._--max müller's "lectures on the science of language"; marsh's "lectures" and "origin and history of the english language"; abp. trench's "english. past and present"; "select glossary." _physics._--elementary treatise on natural philosophy. by a. p. deschanel. vo. ---- elementary treatise on physics. by a. ganot, edited by e. atkinson. sm. vo. _plate._--old english plate, ecclesiastical, decorative, and domestic, its makers and marks. by wilfred joseph cripps, m.a., f.s.a. second edition. london, . vo. _plays._--see _drama_. _pottery._--marks and monograms on pottery and porcelain of the renaissance and modern periods, with historical notices of each manufactory.... by william chaffers. fourth edition. london, . roy. vo. _prices._--history of prices from to . by thomas tooke and william newmarch. london, - . vols. vo. _prints._--an introduction to the study and collection of ancient prints. by william hughes willshire, m.d. edin. second edition, revised and enlarged. london, . vols. vo. ---- the print collector, an introduction to the knowledge necessary for forming a collection of ancient prints. by j. maberly, ... edited with notes, an account of contemporary etching and etchers, and a bibliography of engraving. by robert hoe, jun. new york, . sq. vo. ---- etching and etchers. by p.g. hamerton. new edition. london, . vo. _printing._--typographia or the printers' instructor: including an account of the origin of printing.... by j. johnson, printer. london, . vols. vo. ---- a dictionary of the art of printing. by william savage. london, . vo. _proverbs._--a hand-book of proverbs, comprising an entire republication of ray's collection of english proverbs ... and a complete alphabetical index ... in which are introduced large additions collected by henry g. bohn, . london, . ---- a polyglot of foreign proverbs, comprising french, italian, german, dutch, spanish, portuguese, and danish, with english translations and a general index. by henry g. bohn. london, . ---- english proverbs and proverbial phrases collected from the most authentic sources, alphabetically arranged and annotated. by w. carew hazlitt. london, . vo. second edition. london, . sm. vo. _quotations._--many thoughts of many minds: being a treasury of references, consisting of selections from the writings of the most celebrated authors. compiled and analytically arranged by henry southgate. third edition. london, . vo. second series. london, . vo. _quotations._--noble thoughts in noble language: a collection of wise and virtuous utterances in prose and verse, from the writings of the known good and the great unknown. edited by henry southgate. london. vo. ---- prose quotations from socrates to macaulay, with indexes. by s. austin allibone. philadelphia, . roy. vo. ---- poetical quotations from chaucer to tennyson, with copious indexes. by s. austin allibone. philadelphia, . roy. vo. ---- a dictionary of quotations from the english poets. by henry g. bohn. london, . sq. vo. second edition. london. sm. vo. ---- an index to familiar quotations, selected principally from british authors, with parallel passages from various writers, ancient and modern. by j.c. grocott. liverpool, . sm. vo. ---- familiar quotations: being an attempt to trace to their source passages and phrases in common use. by john bartlett. author's edition. london, sm. vo. ---- words, facts and phrases, a dictionary of curious, quaint, and out-of-the-way matters. by eliezer edwards. london, . sm. vo. _quotations._--the reader's handbook of allusions, references, plots and stories, with their appendices. by the rev. e. brewer, ll.d.... third edition. london, . sm. vo. ---- dictionary of phrase and fable.... by the rev. e. cobham brewer, ll.d. twelfth edition. london, no date. ---- a dictionary of latin and greek quotations, proverbs, maxims and mottos, classical and mediæval, including law terms and phrases. edited by h.t. riley, b.a. london, . sm. vo. _receipts._--cooley's cyclopædia of practical receipts and collateral information in the arts, manufactures, professions and trades ... designed as a comprehensive supplement to the pharmacopoeia.... sixth edition, revised and greatly enlarged by richard v. tuson. london, . vols. vo. _records._--handbook of the public record office. by f.s. thomas, secretary of the public record office. london, . roy. vo. ---- index to the printed reports of sir francis palgrave, k.h., the deputy-keeper of the public records, - . london, . by john edwards and edward james tabrum. in one alphabet. _ritual._--hierurgia; or, transubstantiation, invocation of saints, relics and purgatory, besides those other articles of doctrine set forth in the holy sacrifice of the mass expounded; and the use of holy water, incense, and images [etc.] illustrated. by d. rock, d.d. second edition. london, . vo. _ritual._--hierurgia anglicana; or, documents and extracts illustrative of the ritual of the church in england after the reformation. edited by members of the ecclesiological, late cambridge camden society. london, . vo. _sports._--an encyclopædia of rural sports, or complete account (historical, practical, and descriptive) of hunting, shooting, fishing, racing, etc., etc. by delabere p. blaine. a new edition. london, . vo. _taxes._--a sketch of the history of taxes in england from the earliest times to the present day. by stephen dowell. london, . vo. vol. to the civil war . _theology._--see _ecclesiology_. _topography._--a topographical dictionary of england.... by samuel lewis. seventh edition. london, . ---- a topographical dictionary of wales.... by samuel lewis. fourth edition. london, . vols. to. ---- a topographical dictionary of ireland.... by samuel lewis. second edition. london, . vols. to. ---- see _geography_. _wills._--an index to wills proved in the court of the chancellor of the university of oxford, and to such of the records and other instruments and papers of that court as relate to matters or causes testamentary. by the rev. john griffiths, m.a., keeper of the archives. oxford, . roy. vo. in one alphabet, with a chronological list appended. _zoology._--nomenclator zoologicus, continens nomina systematica generum animalium tam viventium quam fossilium, secundum ordinem alphabeticum disposita, adjectis auctoribus, libris in quibus reperiuntur, anno editionis, etymologia et familiis, ad quas pertinent, in singulis classibus. auctore l. agassiz.... soliduri, - . to. ---- nomenclator zoologicus, continens nomina systematica generum animalium tam viventium quam fossilium, secundum ordinem alphabeticum disposita sub auspicis et sumptibus c.r. societatis zoologico-botanicæ conscriptus a comite augusto de marschall [ - ]. vindobonæ, . vo. . _country._ a library in a large country house should contain a representative collection of english literature, and also a selection of books of reference from the previous list. standard authors, in their best editions, county histories, books of travel, books on art, and a representative collection of good novels, will of course find a place upon the shelves. a book such as stevens's _my english library_ will be a good guide to the foundation of the library, but each collector will have his special tastes, and he will need guidance from the more particular bibliographies which are ready to his hand, and a note of which will be found in chapter v. room will also be found for sets of magazines, such as the _gentleman's_, the _edinburgh_, and the _quarterly_, and for the transactions of such societies as the owner may be member of. the issues of publishing societies form quite a library of themselves, and an account of these will be found in chapter vii. we have seen on a previous page how napoleon wished to form a convenient travelling library, in which everything necessary could be presented in a comparatively small number of handy volumes. few men are like napoleon in the wish to carry such a library about with them; but where space is scarce there are many who find it necessary to exercise a wise spirit of selection. this, however, each man must do for himself, as tastes differ so widely. auguste comte succeeded in selecting a library in which all that it is necessary for a positivist to know is included in volumes, but this result is obtained by putting two or more books together to form one volume. positivist library for the th century. volumes. i. _poetry._ (thirty volumes.) the iliad and the odyssey, in vol. without notes. Æschylus, the king oedipus of sophocles, and aristophanes, in vol. without notes. pindar and theocritus, with daphnis and chloe, in vol. without notes. plautus and terence, in vol. without notes. virgil complete, selections from horace, and lucan, in vol. without notes. ovid, tibullus, juvenal, in vol. without notes. fabliaux du moyen age, recueillies par legrand d'aussy. dante, ariosto, tasso, and petrarch, in vol. in italian. select plays of metastasio and alfieri, also in italian. i promessi sposi, by manzoni, in vol. in italian. don quixote, and the exemplary novels of cervantes, in spanish, in vol. select spanish dramas, a collection edited by don josé segundo florez, in vol. in spanish. the romancero espagnol, a selection, with the poem of the cid, vol. in spanish. select plays of p. corneille. molière, complete. select plays of racine and voltaire, in vol. la fontaine's fables, with some from lamotte and florian. gil blas, by lesage. the princess of cleves, paul and virginia, and the last of the abencerrages, to be collected in vol. les martyres, par chateaubriand. select plays of shakespeare. paradise lost and lyrical poems of milton. robinson crusoe and the vicar of wakefield, in vol. tom jones, by fielding, in english, or translated by chéron. the seven masterpieces of walter scott--ivanhoe, waverley, the fair maid of perth, quentin durward, woodstock (les puritains), the heart of midlothian, the antiquary. select works of byron, don juan in particular to be suppressed. select works of goethe. the arabian nights. ii. _science._ (thirty volumes.) arithmetic of condorcet, algebra, and geometry of clairaut, the trigonometry of lacroix or legendre, to form vol. analytical geometry of auguste comte, preceded by the geometry of descartes. statics, by poinsot, with all his memoirs on mechanics. course of analysis given by navier at the ecole polytechnique, preceded by the reflections on the infinitesimal calculus by carnot. course of mechanics given by navier at the ecole polytechnique, followed by the essay of carnot on equilibrum and motion. theory of functions, by lagrange. popular astronomy of auguste comte, followed by the plurality of worlds of fontenelle. mechanical physics of fischer, translated and annotated by biot. alphabetical manual of practical philosophy, by john carr. the chemistry of lavoisier. chemical statics, by berthollet. elements of chemistry, by james graham. manual of anatomy, by meckel. general anatomy of bichat, preceded by his treatise on life and death. the first volume of blainville on the organization of animals. physiology of richerand, with notes by bérard. systematic essay on biology, by segond, and his treatise on general anatomy. nouveaux eléments de la science de l'homme, par barthez ( nd édition, ). la philosophie zoologique, par lamarck. duméril's natural history. the treatise of guglielmini on the nature of rivers (in italian). discourses on the nature of animals, by buffon. the art of prolonging human life, by hufeland, preceded by hippocrates on air, water, and situation, and followed by cornaro's book on a sober and temperate life, to form vol. l'histoire des phlegmasies chroniques, par broussais, preceded by his propositions de médecine, and the aphorisms of hippocrates (in latin), without commentary. les eloges des savans, par fontenelle et condorcet. iii. _history._ (sixty volumes.) l'abrégé de géographie universelle, par malte brun. geographical dictionary of rienzi. cook's voyages, and those of chardin. history of the french revolution, by mignet. manual of modern history, by heeren. le siècle de louis xiv., par voltaire. memoirs of madame de motteville. the political testament of richelieu, and the life of cromwell, to form vol. history of the civil wars of france, by davila (in italian). memoirs of benvenuto cellini (in italian). memoirs of commines. l'abrégé de l'histoire de france, par bossuet. the revolutions of italy, by denina. the history of spain, by ascargorta. history of charles v., by robertson. history of england, by hume. europe in the middle ages, by hallam. ecclesiastical history, by fleury. decline and fall of the roman empire, by gibbon. manual of ancient history, by heeren. tacitus (complete), the translation of dureau de la malle. herodotus and thucydides, in vol. plutarch's lives, translation of dacier. cæsar's commentaries, and arrian's alexander, in vol. voyage of anacharsis, by barthelemy. history of art among the ancients, by winckelmann. treatise on painting, by leonardo da vinci (in italian). memoirs on music, by grétry. iv. _synthesis._ (thirty volumes.) aristotle's politics and ethics, in vol. the bible. the koran. the city of god, by st. augustine. the confessions of st. augustine, followed by st. bernard on the love of god. the imitation of jesus christ, the original, and the translation into verse, by corneille. the catechism of montpellier, preceded by the exposition of catholic doctrine, by bossuet, and followed by st. augustine's commentary on the sermon on the mount. l'histoire des variations protestantes, par bossuet. discourse on method, by descartes, preceded by the novum organum of bacon, and followed by the interpretation of nature, by diderot. selected thoughts of cicero, epictetus, marcus aurelius, pascal, and vauvenargues, followed by conseils d'une mère, by madame de lambert, and considérations sur les moeurs, par duclos. discourse on universal history, by bossuet, followed by the esquisse historique, by condorcet. treatise on the pope, by de maistre, preceded by the politique sacrée, by bousset. hume's philosophical essays, preceded by the two dissertations on the deaf, and the blind, by diderot, and followed by adam smith's essay on the history of astronomy. theory of the beautiful, by barthez, preceded by the essay on the beautiful, by diderot. les rapports du physique et du moral de l'homme, par cabanis. treatise on the functions of the brain, by gall, preceded by letters on animals, by georges leroy. le traité sur l'irritation et la folie, par broussais (first edition). the positive philosophy of auguste comte (condensed by miss martineau), his positive politics, his positivist catechism, and his subjective synthesis. paris, dante (tuesday, th july, ). auguste comte, ( rue monsieur le prince). this is an interesting list as having been compiled with special thought by a celebrated man, but in many of its details it is little likely to find acceptance with the general reader. it seems rather odd to an englishman to find the _princess of cleves_ included, while shakespeare is only to be found in a selection of his plays. it is not comte's fault that science has not stood still since , and that his selection of books is rather out of date. a list of a hundred good novels is likely to be useful to many, but few lists would be open to more criticism, for readers differ more as to what constitutes a good novel than upon any other branch of literature. the following list was contributed by mr. f.b. perkins to the _library journal_ (vol. i. p. ). the titles are very short, and they are put down in no particular order. most of us will miss some favourite book, but two people, mr. perkins says, have agreed on this list within four or five items. he says he was tempted to add a few alternatives, as amadis de gaul, morte d'arthur, paul and virginia, frankenstein, rasselas, etc. don quixote. gil blas. pilgrim's progress. tale of a tub. gulliver. vicar of wakefield. robinson crusoe. arabian nights. decameron. wilhelm meister. vathek. corinne. minister's wooing. undine. sintram. thisdolf. peter schlemihl. sense and sensibility. pride and prejudice. anastasius. amber witch. mary powell. household of sir t. more. cruise of the midge. guy mannering. antiquary. bride of lammermoor. legend of montrose. rob roy. woodstock. ivanhoe. talisman. fortunes of nigel. old mortality. quentin durward. heart of midlothian. kenilworth. fair maid of perth. vanity fair. pendennis. newcomes. esmond. adam bede. mill on the floss. romola. middlemarch. pickwick. chuzzlewit. nickleby. copperfield. tale of two cities. dombey. oliver twist. tom cringle's log. japhet in search of a father. peter simple. midshipman easy. scarlet letter. house with the seven gables. wandering jew. mysteries of paris. humphry clinker. eugénie grandet. knickerbocker's new york. charles o'malley. harry lorrequer. handy andy. elsie venner. challenge of barletta. betrothed (manzoni's). jane eyre. counterparts. charles auchester. tom brown's schooldays. tom brown at oxford. lady lee's widowhood. horseshoe robinson. pilot. spy. last of the mohicans. my novel. on the heights. bleak house. tom jones. three guardsmen. monte christo. les miserables. notre dame. consuelo. fadette (fanchon). uncle tom's cabin. woman in white. love me little love me long. two years ago. yeast. coningsby. young duke. hyperion. kavanagh. bachelor of the albany. footnotes: [ ] the imperial dictionary of the english language: a complete encyclopædic lexicon, literary, scientific, and technological. by john ogilvie, ll.d. new edition. carefully revised and greatly augmented, edited by charles annandale, m.a. london, - . vols. imp. vo. [ ] a new english dictionary on historical principles, founded mainly on the materials collected by the philological society. edited by james a.h. murray, ll.d., with the assistance of many scholars and men of science. oxford, clarendon press. royal to. [ ] a second edition appeared in - . chapter v. general bibliographies. a good collection of bibliographies is indispensable for a public library, and will also be of great use in a private library when its possessor is a true lover of books. one of the most valuable catalogues of this class of books is the "hand-list of bibliographies, classified catalogues, and indexes placed in the reading room of the british museum for reference" ( ). it is not intended to give in this chapter anything like a complete account of these books, as a separate volume would be required to do justice to them. here it will be sufficient to indicate some of the foremost works in the class. the catalogues of some of our chief libraries are amongst the most valuable of bibliographies for reference. the catalogue of the library of the london institution is one of the handsomest ever produced.[ ] unfortunately the cost of production was too great for the funds of the institution, and the elaborate catalogue of tracts was discontinued after the letter f. the london library being a specially well-selected one, the catalogue (which is a good example of a short-titled catalogue) is particularly useful for ready reference.[ ] the royal institution library is very rich in british topography, and the catalogue forms a convenient handbook.[ ] the catalogue of the patent office library is by no means a model, but the second volume forms a good book of reference.[ ] many other catalogues might be mentioned, but these will be sufficient for our present purpose. there is great want of a good handbook of literature, with the prices of the different books. until this want is supplied good booksellers' catalogues will be found the most trustworthy guides. pre-eminent among these are the catalogues of mr. quaritch, and the "catalogue of upwards of fifty thousand volumes of ancient and modern books," published by messrs. willis and sotheran in . mr. quaritch's catalogues are classified with an index of subjects and authors.[ ] a previous general catalogue was issued in , and a supplement - (pp. iv. ). now mr. quaritch is issuing in sections a new catalogue on a still larger scale, which is of the greatest value. for the study of early printed books, hain,[ ] panzer,[ ] and maittaire's[ ] books are indispensable. for general literature brunet's manual[ ] stands pre-eminent in its popularity. it has held its own since , when it was first published in three volumes, demy octavo. graesse's trésor[ ] is less known out of germany, but it also is a work of very great value. ebert's work[ ] is somewhat out of date now, but it still has its use. watt's bibliotheca[ ] is one of the most valuable bibliographies ever published, chiefly on account of the index of subjects which gives information that cannot be found elsewhere. the titles were largely taken from second-hand sources, and are in many instances marred by misprints. every one who uses it must wish that it was brought down to date, but it is scarcely likely that any one will sacrifice a life to such labour as would be necessary. moreover, the popular feeling is somewhat adverse to universal bibliographies, and it is thought that the literature of his own country is sufficiently large a subject for the bibliographer to devote his time to. english literature has not been neglected by english bibliographers, although a full bibliography of our authors is still a crying want. complete lists of the works of some of our greatest authors have still to be made, and it is to be hoped that all those who have the cause of bibliography at heart will join to remedy the great evil. it would be quite possible to compile a really national work by a system of co-operation such as was found workable in the case of the philological society's dictionary of the english language. sub-editors of the different letters might be appointed, and to them all titles could be sent. when the question of printing arose, it would be well to commence with the chief authors. these bibliographies might be circulated, by which means many additions would be made to them, and then they could be incorporated in the general alphabet. in such a bibliography books in manuscript ought to be included, as well as printed books. although there is little doubt that many books still remain unregistered, we are well supplied with catalogues of books made for trade purposes. maunsell[ ] was the first to publish such a list, and in was published a catalogue of books issued between and .[ ] william london[ ] published his catalogue in , and clavell's his in .[ ] bent's catalogue, published in , went back to ,[ ] and this was continued annually as the london catalogue. the british and english catalogues[ ] followed, and the latter is also published annually.[ ] for early printed books, ames and herbert's great work[ ] is of much value, but information respecting our old literature has increased so much of late that a new history of typographical antiquities is sadly needed. mr. blades has done the necessary work for caxton, but the first english printer's successors require similar treatment. william thomas lowndes, the son of an eminent bookseller and publisher, and himself a bookseller, published in his _bibliographer's manual_[ ] which has remained the great authority for english literature. it had become very scarce when henry bohn, in , brought out a new edition with additions in a series of handy volumes, which is an indispensable book of reference, although it is far from being the complete work that is required. allibone's _dictionary_[ ] contains much that is omitted in lowndes's manual, but it is more literary than bibliographical in its scope. the well-selected criticisms appended to the titles of the several books are of considerable interest and value to the reader. mr. w.c. hazlitt's handbooks[ ] are exceedingly valuable as containing information respecting a class of books which has been much neglected in bibliographical works. the compiler has been indefatigable for some years past in registering the titles of rare books as they occurred at public sales. mr. collier's account of rare books,[ ] founded on his bridgewater catalogue ( ), is of great use for information respecting out-of-the-way literature, as also is mr. corser's descriptive catalogue of old english poetry.[ ] accounts of books published in gaelic,[ ] in welsh,[ ] and in irish,[ ] have been published. the works of american authors are included in allibone's _dictionary_, referred to under english literature, but special books have also been prepared, such as trübner's guide,[ ] stevens's american books in the british museum,[ ] and leypoldt's great book, the american catalogue.[ ] catalogues of books on america, such as those of obadiah rich, have also been compiled, but these are more properly special bibliographies. france has always stood in a foremost position in respect to bibliography, and she alone has a national work on her literature, which stands in the very first rank--this is due to the enthusiastic bibliographer querard.[ ] a better model as to what a national bibliography should be could not well be found. the catalogue of current literature, which bears the name of o. lorenz, is also an excellent work.[ ] german literature has been, and is, well registered. heyse,[ ] maltzahn,[ ] heinsius,[ ] and kayser,[ ] have all produced valuable works. heinsius published his original lexicon in , and kayser his in , and supplements to both of these have been published about every ten years. a more condensed work was commenced by a. kirchhoff in , containing the catalogue of works published from to ; a second volume of the next five years appeared in , and since kirchhoff's death hinrichs has published a volume every five years. the leipzig book-fairs have had their catalogues ever since , and the half-yearly volumes now bearing the name of hinrichs,[ ] which have been published regularly since , and to which the fair catalogues succumbed in , may be considered as their legitimate successors. the literature of holland is well recorded by campbell[ ] and abkoude,[ ] and for belgium there is the _bibliographie de belgique_.[ ] italy can boast of a gamba[ ] and a bertocci,[ ] and a public office publishes the _bibliografia italiana_.[ ] spain is fortunate in possessing a splendid piece of bibliography in the great works of antonio.[ ] some years ago, when i was occupied in cataloguing one of the chief collections of spanish books in this country, i was in the daily habit of consulting these _bibliothecas_, and while comparing the books themselves with the printed titles, i seldom found a mistake. hidalgo's[ ] work and the boletin[ ] show that at the present time bibliography is not neglected in that country. the works of barbosa machado[ ] and silva[ ] show that portugal is not behind the sister kingdom in the love for bibliography. bibliographies of other countries might be mentioned here, but space will not permit. there is one branch of general bibliography to which special attention has been paid for a long period of years. o. placcius published his _theatrum anonymorum et pseudonymorum_ at hamburgh in ( nd ed. ). villani continued the record of pseudonymous literature by publishing at parma, in , a small volume entitled _la visiera alzata_. j.c. mylius published his _bibliotheca anonymorum et pseudonymorum_ at hamburgh in . barbier's great work on the anonymous in french literature was first published in - , the second edition appeared in - , and the third in - , as a continuation to the second edition of querard's _les supercheries littéraires_. querard's work is more curious than useful, because the author has entered into minute questions of authorship which do not really belong to the domain of bibliography. manne's volume ( ) is not of much value. lancetti published an octavo volume on pseudonyms in italian ( ), but barbier's work was not worthily imitated in any other country until mr. paterson commenced the publication of the very valuable work of the late mr. halkett.[ ] footnotes: [ ] a catalogue of the library of the london institution, systematically classed. [london] . vols. royal vo. vol. ( ), general library; vol. ( ), tracts and pamphlets arranged in alphabetical order as far as the letter f. (never completed); vol. ( ), general library, additions; vol. ( ), additions from to . [ ] catalogue of the london library, , st. james's square, s.w. with preface, laws and regulations, list of members and classified index of subjects. by robert harrison. fourth edition. sold at the library, , royal vo. pp. . ---- supplemental volume, - , sold at the library, , royal vo. pp. . [ ] a new classified catalogue of the library of the royal institution of great britain with indexes of authors and subjects, and a list of historical pamphlets, chronologically arranged. by benjamin vincent. london. sold at the royal institution. , vo. pp. xvii.- . ---- vol. ii., including the additions from to . london. sold at the royal institution. . vo. pp. xvii.- . [ ] catalogue of the library of the patent office, arranged alphabetically. in two volumes: vol. , authors; vol. , subjects. london. published and sold at the commissioners of patents sale department. - . royal vo. [ ] a general catalogue of books, offered for sale to the public at the affixed prices. by bernard quaritch london, , piccadilly, . vo. pp. x.- . [ ] - . hain (l.). repertorium bibliographicum in quo libri omnes ab arte typographica inventa usque ad annum md typis expressi, ordine alphabetico vel simpliciter enumerantur vel adcuratius recensentur. stuttgartiæ, - . vols. vo. [ ] - . panzer (g.w.). annales typographici ab artis inventæ origine ad annum . norimbergæ, - . vols. to. [ ] - . maittaire (m.). annales typographici ab artis inventæ origine ad annum , cum supplemento michaelis denisii. hag. com. et viennæ, - . vols in parts. [ ] brunet (j.c.). manuel du libraire, cinquième édition. paris, - . vols. vo. supplément par p. deschamps et g. brunet. paris, - , vols. royal vo. [ ] graesse (j.g.t.). trésor de livres rares et précieux ou nouveau dictionnaire bibliographique. dresde, - . vols. to. [ ] ebert (f.a.). allgemeines bibliographisches lexikon. leipzig, - . vols. to. ---- a general bibliographical dictionary, from the german [by a. brown]. oxford, . vols. vo. [ ] watt (r.). bibliotheca britannica: a general index to british and foreign literature. in two parts, authors and subjects. edinburgh, . vols. to. [ ] before . maunsell (a.). catalogue of english printed books. london, . to. part , divinitie. part , sciences mathematicall. [ ] - . a catalogue of certaine bookes which have been published and (by authoritie) printed in england both in latine and english, since the year until november, . london, . to. [ ] before . london (william). a catalogue of the most vendible books in england, orderly and alphabetically digested. with a supplement. - . to. [ ] - . clavell (r.). general catalogue of books printed in england since the dreadful fire of london, . fourth edition. london, . folio. [ ] - . a general catalogue of books in all languages, arts, and sciences, printed in great britain and published in london. london (w. bent), . vo. . london catalogue of books. london (w. bent), . vo. - . london catalogue of books. london (w. bent), . vo. - . london catalogue of books. london (hodgson), . vo. classified index. london (hodgson), . - . london catalogue of books. london (hodgson), . [ ] - . the british catalogue. sampson low, . and index. vols. vo. [ ] - . the english catalogue of books. sampson low. and indexes. vo. _continued annually._ [ ] - . ames (joseph). typographical antiquities: being an historical account of printing in england, with some memoirs of our antient printers, and a register of the books printed by them ... with an appendix concerning printing in scotland, ireland to the same time. london, . to. vol. considerably augmented by w. herbert. london, - . vols. to. enlarged by t.f. dibdin. london, - . vols. to. [ ] lowndes (w.t.), the bibliographer's manual of english literature. london, . vols. vo. new edition, by h.g. bohn. london, - . vols. sm. vo. [ ] allibone (s.a.). dictionary of english literature, and british and american authors. philadelphia, - . vols. royal vo. [ ] hazlitt (w. carew). handbook to the popular, poetical, and dramatic literature of great britain, from the invention of printing to the restoration. london (j. russell smith), . vo. ---- collections and notes, - . london (reeves & turner), . vo. ---- second series of bibliographical collections and notes on early english literature, - . london (bernard quaritch), . [ ] collier (j.p.). a bibliographical and critical account of the rarest books in the english language, alphabetically arranged. london, . vols. vo. [ ] corser (t.). collectanea anglo-poetica; or a bibliographical and descriptive catalogue of a portion of a collection of early english poetry. manchester (chetham society), - . vols. sm. to. [ ] _gaelic._ bibliotheca scoto-celtica; or, an account of all the books which have been published in the gaelic language. by john reid. glasgow, . vo. [ ] _welsh._ cambrian bibliography: containing an account of the books printed in the welsh language; or relating to wales, from the year to the end of the th century. by w. rowlands. llanidloes, . vo. [ ] _irish._ transactions of the iberno-celtic society for . containing a chronological account of nearly four hundred irish writers ... carried down to the year , with a descriptive catalogue of such of their works as are still extant. by e. o'reilly. dublin, . to. [ ] trübner's bibliographical guide to american literature: a classed list of books published in the united states of america during the last forty years. london, . vo. [ ] catalogue of the american books in the library of the british museum. christmas, . by h. stevens. london, . vo. [ ] the american catalogue under the direction of f. leypoldt. new york, . vols. to. suppl. - . compiled under the editorial direction of r.r. bowker by miss appleton. new york, . [ ] querard (j.m.). la france littéraire, ou dictionnaire bibliographique des savants qui ont écrit en français, plus particulièrement pendant les xviii^e et xix^e siècles. paris, - . vols. vo. ---- littérature française contemporaine ( - ). continuation de la france littéraire. paris, - . vols. vo. [ ] lorenz (o.). catalogue de la librairie française - . vols. - . vols. vo. the catalogue of books from to is in preparation. ---- tables des matières, - . paris, - . vols. vo. [ ] [heyse (c.w.).] bücherschatz der deutschen national-litteratur des xvi und xvii jahrhunderts. systematisch geordnetes verzeichniss einer reichhaltigen sammlung deutschen büchen. berlin, . vo. [ ] maltzahn (w. von). deutschen bücherschatz des sechszehnten, siebenzehnten und achtzehnten bis um die mitte des neunzehnten jahrhunderts. jena, . vo. [ ] heinsius (w.). allgemeines bücher lexicon, - . leipzig, - . vols. to. th supplement. [ ] kayser (c.g.). index librorum. vollständiges bücher-lexicon, enthaltend alle von bis zu ende des jahres (- ) in deutschland ... gedruckten bücher. leipzig, - . to. [ ] hinrichs (j.c.). verzeichniss der bücher ... welche in deutschland vom januar, , bis zum (december, ) neu erschienen oder neu aufgelegt worden sind. leipzig, - . mo. _in progress._ ---- repertorium über die nach den ... verzeichnissen, - , erschienenen bücher. von e. baldamus. ( - .) leipzig, - . mo. [ ] campbell (m.f.a.g.). annales de la typographie néerlandaise au xv^e siècle. la haye, . vo. ---- ^{er} supplément. la haye, . vo. [ ] abkoude (j. van). naamregister van de bekendste ... nederduitsche boeken ... tot . nu overzien en tot het jaar vermeerderd door r. arrenberg. rotterdam, . to. ---- alphabetische naamlijst van boeken tot , amsterdam, . to. - . amsterdam, - . vols. to. ---- wetenschappelijk register behoorende bij brinkman's alphabetische naamlijsten van boeken ... - ... bewerkt door r. van der meulen. amsterdam, . to. [ ] bibliographie de belgique. journal officiel de la librairie. année . bruxelles, . vo. [ ] gamba (b.). serie dei testi di lingua italiana e di altri opere importanti nella italiana letteratura del secolo xv al xix. quarta edizione. venezia, . vo. [ ] bertocci (d.g.). repertorio bibliografico delle opere stampate in italia nel secolo xix. vol. i. roma, . vo. [ ] bibliografia italiana: giornale compilato sui documenti communicati dal ministero dell'istruzione pubblica. anno - . - . firenze, - . vo. in progress. [ ] antonio (n.). bibliotheca hispana vetus sive hispani scriptores ... ad annum christi floruerunt. matriti, . vols. folia. ---- bibliotheca hispana nova sive hispanorum scriptorum qui ab anno ad floruere notitia. matriti, - . vols. folio. [ ] hidalgo (d.). diccionario general de bibliografia española. madrid, - . vols. vo. [ ] boletin de la libreria. año . . madrid, . vo. in progress. [ ] barbosa machado (d.). bibliotheca lusitana, historica, critica e cronologica. na qual se comprehende a noticia dos authores portuguezes, e das obras que compuserão. lisboa, - . vols. folio. [ ] silva (j.f. da). diccionario bibliographico portuguez. lisboa, - . tom. - . vo. [ ] a dictionary of the anonymous and pseudonymous literature of great britain, including the works of foreigners written in or translated into the english language. by the late samuel halkett, and the late rev. john laing. edinburgh (william paterson), - . vols. , , (to 'tis). chapter vi. special bibliographies. bibliographies of special subjects are more useful than any other books in the formation of a library. the articles in the new edition of the _encyclopædia britannica_ will be found valuable for this purpose, but those who wish for fuller information must refer to dr. julius petzholdt's elaborate _bibliotheca bibliographica_ (leipzig, ), or to the _bibliographie des bibliographies_ of m. léon vallée (paris, ). the late mr. cornelius walford contributed a paper "on special collections of books" to the transactions of the conference of librarians, (pp. - ), in which he specially referred to the subject of insurance. in the present chapter i propose to refer to some of the most useful bibliographies, but to save space the full titles will not be given, and this is the less necessary as they can mostly be found in the above books or in that useful little volume we owe to the authorities of the british museum--"hand-list of bibliographies, classified catalogues, and indexes placed in the reading-room," . _agriculture._--weston's tracts on practical agriculture and gardening ( ), contains a chronological catalogue of english authors, and donaldson's agricultural biography ( ) brings the subject down to a later date. victor donatien de musset-pathay published a _bibliographie agronomique_ in , and loudon's _encyclopædia of agriculture_ contains the literature and bibliography of agriculture, british, french, german, and american. _ana._--in peignot's _repertoire de bibliographies spéciales_ ( ) will be found at pp. - , a list of books of ana, and gabriel antoine joseph hécart published at valenciennes, , under the name of j.g. phitakaer, a bibliography entitled "anagrapheana." namur's _bibliographie des ouvrages publiés sous le nom d'ana_ was published at bruxelles in . the late sir william stirling maxwell made a collection of books of ana, a privately printed catalogue of which he issued in . _angling._--sir henry ellis printed privately in a small octavo pamphlet of pages which he entitled "a catalogue of books on angling, with some brief notices of several of their authors," which was an extract from the _british bibliographer_. in , pickering printed a _bibliotheca piscatoria_, which was formed upon sir henry ellis's corrected copy of the above catalogue. mr. j. russell smith published in "a bibliographical catalogue of english writers on angling and ichthyology," which was soon superceded by the following work by mr. t. westwood. "a new bibliotheca piscatoria, or a general catalogue of angling and fishing literature." london, (another edition, edited conjointly with t. satchell, ). mr. r. blakey published in , "angling literature of all nations." london, . mo. mr. j.j. manley, m.a., published in , "literature of sea and river fishing," as one of the handbooks of the international fisheries exhibition. _architecture._--lacroix (e.). bibliographie des ingénieurs, des architectes, des chefs d'usines industrielles, des elèves des ecoles polytechniques et professionnelles et des agriculteurs. première (--troisième) série. paris, - . to. _assurance_ (_life_).--lewis pocock published "a chronological list of books and single papers" relating to this subject in , a second edition of which was published in . _astronomy._--lalande published his valuable "bibliographie astronomique" at paris, . otto struve's catalogue of the library of the pulkova observatory, published at st. petersburg in , is highly esteemed by astronomers. the first part of the catalogue of the united states naval observatory at washington, by prof. e.s. holden, is devoted to astronomical bibliography. ---- houzeau (j.c.) and lancaster (a.), bibliographie générale de l'astronomie. bruxelles, . vo. in progress. ---- mr. e.b. knobel, secretary of the royal astronomical society, printed in the _monthly notices_ of that society for november, (pp. - ), a very useful short reference catalogue of astronomical papers and researches, referring more especially to ( ) double stars; ( ) variable stars; ( ) red stars; ( ) nebulæ and clusters; ( ) proper motions of stars; ( ) parallax and distance of stars; ( ) star spectra. mr. e.s. holden's "index catalogue of books and memoirs relating to nebulæ and clusters of stars" was printed in the _smithsonian miscellaneous collections_ in . _bible._--the famous le long published at paris, in , his "discours historiques sur les principales éditions des bibles polyglottes," and in , in two volumes, folio, his great work "bibliotheca sacra." this was edited and continued by a.g. masch, and published at halæ magd. in five volumes, quarto. - . t. llewelyn published in "historical account of the british or welsh versions and editions of the bible." a privately printed "list of various editions of the bible" was issued in , which has been attributed to dr. ducarel. john lewis's "complete history of the several translations of the holy bible and new testament into english" was published in , and dr. henry cotton's "list of editions" (oxford, , nd edition, ) was intended as an appendix to that work. orme's _bibliotheca biblica_ was published at edinburgh in , and hartwell horne's _manual of biblical bibliography_ at london in . bagster's _bible in every land_ ( ), although not strictly bibliographical, must be mentioned here, because it gives under each language a notice of all versions published in that language. lowndes' british librarian or book collector's guide. class i. religion and its history. london, . vo. parts , , are devoted to holy scriptures, biblical commentaries, biblical disquisitions, scripture biography, scripture geography, etc. the work itself was left incomplete dr. h. cotton published at oxford, in , a work entitled "rhemes and doway. an attempt to show what has been done by roman catholics for the diffusion of the holy scriptures in english." in j.g. shea published at new york a "bibliographical account of catholic bibles, testaments, and other portions of scripture translated from the latin vulgate, and printed in the united states," and in e.b. o'callaghan published at albany a "list of editions of the holy scriptures and parts thereof, printed in america previous to ." e. reuss published at brunswick, in , a bibliography of the greek new testament. dr. isaac hall printed a critical bibliography of american greek testaments at philadelphia in . mr. henry stevens, the eminent bibliographer, is a special authority on bibles, and his work, entitled "the bibles in the caxton exhibition, , or a bibliographical description of nearly one thousand representative bibles in various languages, chronologically arranged" (london, ), contains some of the information he possesses. _biography._--oettinger's _bibliographie biographique universelle_ ( ) is a most useful work, although it is now unfortunately somewhat out of date. _book-keeping._--b.f. foster's _origin and progress of book-keeping_ ( ) contains an account of books published on this subject from to . _botany._--pritzel's _thesaurus literaturæ botanicæ_ ( , another edition - ) is _the_ bibliography of the subject, and this work is supplemented by mr. daydon jackson's index of botany, published by the index society. trimen's botanical bibliography of the british counties, london, . vo. _chemistry._--r. ruprecht, bibliotheca chemica et pharmaceutica, - . _göttingen_, . _classics._--dr. edward harwood published his "view of the various editions of the greek and roman classics" in . he was followed in by thomas frognall dibdin, whose work was much enlarged, and reappeared in several editions; the fourth and best being published in ( vols. vo.). j.w. moss published his "manual of classical bibliography" in , vols. vo. henry g. bohn's general catalogue, part ii. section i. , contains a valuable list of greek and latin classics. engelmann's bibliotheca scriptorum classicorum et græcorum et latinorum ( ) is an elaborate work on the subject, and professor john e.b. mayor's translation and adaptation of dr. hübner's bibliographical clue to latin literature will be found to be a very useful handbook. _commerce._--see _trade_. _dialects._--mr. j. russell smith published, in , a useful "bibliographical list of the works that have been published towards illustrating the provincial dialects of england" ( pages). when the rev. professor skeat started the english dialect society, he at once laid the foundation of an extensive bibliographical list to include mss. as well as printed works. this bibliography is being published by the society in parts. _dictionaries._--william marsden printed privately, in , a valuable "catalogue of dictionaries, vocabularies, grammars, and alphabets." _dictionaries._--trübner's catalogue of dictionaries and grammars ( , second edition ) is a very useful work. h.b. wheatley's account of english dictionaries was published in the transactions of the philological society for . _drama._--a notice of some books in the english drama will be found in chapter iv. the _bibliothèque dramatique de mons. de soleinne_ ( - , vols.), with its continuation to , is a splendid catalogue, in which the books are fully described, with valuable notes and preface. _earthquakes._--mr. robert mallet's bibliography of earthquakes will be found in the british association report for , and mons. alexis perrey's bibliographie seismique in the dijon _memoires_ for , , and . _electricity._--sir francis ronalds' catalogue of books and papers relating to electricity, magnetism, and the electric telegraph ( ) contains a large number of titles. o. salle's bibliography of electricity and magnetism, to , was published in . _entomology._--dr. hagen's bibliotheca entomologica (leipzig, - ) is a carefully compiled and useful book. _epigrams._--there is a list of books connected with epigrammatic literature appended to _the epigrammatists_, by the rev. philip dodd. vo. london, . _fine art._--the first proofs of the universal catalogue of books in art, compiled for the use of the national art library and the schools of art in the united kingdom. london, . vols. sm. to. supplement. london, . ---- essai d'une bibliographie de l'histoire spéciale de la peinture et de la gravure en hollande et en belgique ( - ), par j.f. van someren, amsterdam, . vo. _freemasonry._--gowans (w.). catalogue of books on freemasonry and kindred subjects. new york, . vo. ---- hemsworth (h.w.). catalogue of books in the library at freemasons' hall, london. privately printed. there is a list of books on freemasonry in petzholdt's bibliotheca bibliographica, pp. - . mr. folkard printed privately a catalogue of works on freemasonry in the wigan free library in , and in the annals of the grand lodge of iowa, vol. ix. part i. ( ) is a catalogue of works on this subject in the library of the grand lodge of iowa. _future life._--catalogue of works relating to the nature, origin, and destiny of the soul, by ezra abbot. appended to w.r. alger's critical history of the doctrine of a future life. philadelphia, . vo. reprinted, new york, . _geography._--see _voyages and travels_. _health._--catalogue of the international health exhibition library. division i. health. division ii. education. london, . vo. _heraldry._--thomas moule's valuable _bibliotheca heraldica magnæ britanniæ_ was published in . there is a "list of the principal english and foreign text-books on heraldry" at the end of _the handbook of heraldry_, by j.e. cussans, london, . _history_ (_general_).--brunet (j.c.). table méthodique en forme de catalogue raisonné, histoire. paris, . vo. ---- oettinger (e.m.). historisches archiv. archives historiques, contenant une classification de , ouvrages pour servir à l'étude de l'histoire de tous les siècles et de toutes les nations. carlsruhe, . to. (_great britain and ireland._)--bishop nicholson's english, scotch, and irish historical libraries, , will still be found useful. mr. mullinger's portion of the introduction to the study of english history ( ) gives the latest information on the subject. sir duffus hardy's "descriptive catalogue of materials relating to the history of great britain and ireland to the end of the reign of henry viii." is an invaluable book, but is unfortunately incomplete. (_france._)--lelong (j.). bibliothèque historique ( - , vols, folio). "les sources de l'histoire de france," by a. franklin, was published in . _history_ (_germany._)--bibliographical essay on the scriptores rerum germanicarum, by a. asher, was published in . (_holland._)--nijhoff. bibliotheca historico-neerlandica. la haye, . (_italy._)--lichtenthal (p.). manuale bibliografico del viaggiatore in italia. milano, . a catalogue of sir richard colt hoare's collection of books relating to the history and topography of italy was printed in . the collection was presented to the british museum by hoare in . (_portugal._)--figaniere. bibliographia historica portugueza. lisboa, . (_spain._)--munoz y romero. diccionario bibliografico-historico ... de espana. madrid, . _language._--see _dictionaries_, _philology_. _law._--mr. stephen r. griswold contributed an article on law libraries to the u.s. report on libraries (pp. - ). he writes, "law books may be classified generally as follows: reports, treatises, statute law. the practice of reporting the decisions of the judges began in the reign of edward i., and from that time we have a series of judicial reports of those decisions. in the time of lord bacon, these reports extended to fifty or sixty volumes. during the two hundred and fifty years that have passed since then, nothing has been done by way of revision or expurgation; but these publications have been constantly increasing, so that at the close of the year the published volumes of reports were as follows: english, volumes; irish, volumes; scotch, volumes; canadian, volumes; american, volumes. with respect to treatises (including law periodicals and digests), and without including more than one edition of the same work, it is safe to say that a fair collection would embrace at least volumes. the statute law of the united states, if confined to the general or revised statutes and codes, may be brought within volumes. if, however, the sessional acts be included, the collection would amount to over volumes. it is thus seen that a fairly complete law library would embrace more than volumes, which could not be placed upon its shelves for less than $ , ." _law._--there is a useful list of legal bibliographies in the "hand-list of bibliographies in the reading-room of the british museum" (pp. - ). clarke's _bibliotheca legum_, which was compiled by hartwell horne ( ), is a valuable work. marvin's _legal bibliography_, which was published at philadelphia in , contains pages. the catalogue of the law library in the new york state library ( ), forms a useful guide to the subject, and herbert g. sweet's "complete catalogue of modern law books" is one of the latest catalogues of authority. _mathematics._--a really good bibliography of mathematics is still wanting. the following books, however, all from germany, are useful. _mathematics._--murhard (f.w.a.). bibliotheca mathematica. lipsiæ, - . vols. ---- rogg (j.). handbuch der mathematischen literatur. tübingen, . ---- sohncke (l.a.). bibliotheca mathematica. - . leipsic, . ---- erlecke (a.). bibliotheca mathematica. halle-a.-s., . ---- professor de morgan's arithmetical books ( ) is a model of what a good bibliography ought to be. _medical._--dr. billings contributed a chapter on "medical libraries in the united states" to the u.s. report on public libraries (pp. - ), in which he wrote--"the record of the researches, experiences, and speculations relating to medical science during the last four hundred years is contained in between two and three hundred thousand volumes and pamphlets; and while the immense majority of these have little or nothing of what we call 'practical value,' yet there is no one of them which would not be called for by some inquirer if he knew of its existence." the writer added a list of works of reference which should be in every medical library. there have been a specially large number of medical bibliographies, from haller's works downwards. james atkinson's medical bibliography ( , a and b only), is an amusing book, but of little or no utility. the most useful books are dr. billings's index catalogue of the library of the surgeon-general's office (washington, ) and the catalogue of the library of the royal medical and chirurgical society ( vols. ), by b.r. wheatley. neale's medical digest ( ) forms a convenient guide to the medical periodicals. the two great french dictionaries--raige-delorme and a. dechambre, dictionnaire encyclopédique des sciences médicales ( series, commenced in , and still in progress); jaccoud, nouveau dictionnaire de médecine et de chirurgie pratiques ( , and still in progress)--contain very valuable references to the literature of the various subjects. of special subjects may be mentioned h. haeser's bibliotheca epidemiographica ( ), john s. billings's bibliography of cholera in the report of the cholera epidemic of in the united states ( , pp. - ), beer's bibliotheca ophthalmica ( ), dr. e.j. waring's bibliotheca therapeutica ( - , vols. vo.), and bibliography of embryology, in balfour's embryology, vol. ii. _meteorology._--a full bibliography of books and papers upon meteorology is being prepared at the united states signal office, and it is reported that , titles are now in the office. there have been several articles on this subject in _symons's meteorological magazine_, the last being in the number for december, . _mineralogy._--dana (j.d.). bibliography of mineralogy. . vo. _mining._--wigan free public library index catalogue of books and papers relating to mining, metallurgy, and manufactures. by henry tennyson folkard, librarian. southport, . roy. vo. _motion (perpetual)._--perpetuum mobile; or, search for self-motive power during the th, th, and th centuries, illustrated from various authentic sources in papers, essays, letters, paragraphs, and numerous patent specifications, with an introductory essay. by henry dircks, c.e. london, . sm. vo. second series. london, . sm. vo. _music._--engel (c.). the literature of national music. london, . vo. ---- catalogue of the library of the sacred harmonic society. a new edition [by w.h. husk]. london, . vo. ---- rimbault (f.). bibliotheca madrigaliana, a bibliographical account of the musical and poetical works published in england during the th and th centuries, under the titles of madrigals, ballets, ayres, canzonets, etc. london, . vo. there are bibliographies of the subject in f.l. kilter's history of music, london, , and f. clement, histoire générale de la musique religieuse. paris, . _natural history._--dryander's catalogue of sir joseph banks's library, now in the british museum, is the most famous bibliography of this subject, although made so many years ago. it consists of vols. vo. ( - ). vol. , general writers; vol. , zoology; vol. , botany; vol. , mineralogy; vol. , supplement. _natural history._--engelmann (w.). bibliotheca historico-naturalis. leipzig, . ---- zuckold (e.a.). bibliotheca historico-naturalis, physico-chemica et mathematica. göttingen, . ---- see _zoology_. _philology._--marsden (w.) bibliotheca marsdenia, philologica et orientalis. london, . to. ---- engelmann (w.). bibliotheca philologica. leipzig, . ---- see _dictionaries_. _political economy._--mcculloch (j.r.) the literature of political economy, london, .--this is a very valuable work up to the date of publication, but a good bibliography of the subject is still a desideratum. the late professor stanley jevons proposed to draw up a handy book of the literature for the index society, but, to the great loss of bibliography, was prevented by other work from undertaking it. he contributed a list of selected books in political economy to the _monthly notes_ of the library association (vol. , no. ). _poor._--a catalogue of publications in the english language on subjects relative to the poor will be found in eden's _state of the poor_, vol. iii. pp. ccclxvii--ccclxxxvi. _printing._--bigmore (e.c.), and wyman (c.w.h.). a bibliography of printing, with notes and illustrations. london, . to. ---- the literature of printing. a catalogue of the library illustrative of the history and art of typography, chalcography, and lithography, by r.m. hoe. london, . vo. the following is a list of some of the bibliographies of the productions of the chief printers: _aldus._--annales de l'imprimerie des alde ou histoire des trois manuce et de leurs éditions. par ant. aug. renouard. paris, an xii. seconde édition. paris, . vo. vols. _caxton._--the life and typography of william caxton, england's first printer, with evidence of his typographical connection with colard mansion, the printer at bruges. compiled from original sources by william blades. london, - . vols. to. a condensed edition was published under the following title: the biography and typography of william caxton, england's first printer. by william blades. second edition. london, . vo. _elzevirs._--willems (a.). les elzevier. histoire et annales typographiques. bruxelles, . vo. ---- c. pieters. annales de l'imprimerie des elsevier. gand, . vo. _plantin._--la maison plantin à anvers. par l. degeorge. deuxième édition, augmentée d'une liste chronologique des ouvrages imprimés par plantin à anvers de à . bruxelles, . vo. _stephens._--annales de l'imprimerie des estienne, ou histoire de la famille, des estienne et de ses éditions. par a.a. renouard. paris, - . vo. parts. _privately printed books._--the second edition of john martin's bibliographical catalogue of privately printed books was published in , and a newer work on this important subject is much required. mr. w.p. courtney has been engaged in the production of such a work for some years, and the labour could not be in better hands. _proverbs._--the _bibliographie parémiologique_ of pierre alexandre gratet-duplessis ( ), is one of the most elaborate and carefully compiled bibliographies ever published. sir william stirling maxwell printed privately a catalogue of his collection of books of proverbs, in which were specially marked those unknown to duplessis, or those published since the issue of his catalogue. _science._--an article on the scientific libraries in the united states was contributed by dr. theodore gill to the u.s. report on public libraries (pp. - ). it contains an account of the various periodical records of work in the various departments of science. _shorthand._--thomas anderson's history of shorthand, london ( ), contains lists of writers on shorthand in different languages. _theology._--there is an article on theological libraries in the united states, in the u.s. report on public libraries (pp. - ). the following extract contains some particulars respecting these.--"there are reported twenty-four libraries, which contain from , to , volumes; and these twenty-four libraries belong to ten different denominations. three baptist, two catholic, two congregational, three episcopal, one lutheran, two methodist, seven presbyterian, one reformed (dutch), one reformed (german), and two unitarian. and, if we include those libraries which contain less than , volumes, the list of different denominations to which they belong is extended to fifteen or sixteen." a considerable number of bibliographies of theology will be found in the british museum hand-list. darling's cyclopædia bibliographica ( - ), malcom's theological index (boston, ), and zuchold's bibliotheca theologica (göttingen, ), may be specially mentioned. _topography._--gough's british topography ( vols. to. ) is an interesting and useful book, and upcott's bibliographical account of the principal works relating to british topography, vols. vo. ( ), forms one of the best specimens of english bibliography extant. _topography._--mr. j.p. anderson's book of british topography ( ) is an indispensable book. mr. robert harrison has prepared for the index society an index of books on topography, arranged in one alphabet of places, which has not yet been published. mr. w.h.k. wright contributed a paper on "special collections of local books in provincial libraries" to the transactions of the first annual meeting of the library association, (pp. - ). another paper on the same subject, by mr. j.h. nodal, appears in the transactions of the second annual meeting of the library association, (pp. - ), entitled "special collections of books in lancashire and cheshire," and in the appendix (pp. - ) is a full account of these collections in public libraries and private hands. an indication of some of the chief bibliographies of particular counties and places is here added-- cornwall: boase & courtney, - . vols. a model bibliography. devonshire: j. davidson, . " plymouth (three towns' bibliotheca), r.n. worth, - . dorsetshire: c.h. mayo, privately printed, . gloucestershire: bibliotheca gloucestrensis, j. washbourn, - . gloucestershire: collectanea glocestriensia, j.d. phelps, . hampshire: bibliotheca hantoniensis, h.m. gilbert, ? " list of books, sir w.h. cope, . herefordshire: j. allen, jun., . kent: j. russell smith, . lancashire: h. fishwick, . man (isle of): w. harrison, . norfolk: s. woodward and w.c. ewing, . nottinghamshire: s.f. creswell, . sussex: g.s. butler, . yorkshire: rt. hon. john smythe, pontefract, . " e. hailstone, . " w. boyne, . _trade and finance._--catalogue of books, comprising the library of william paterson, founder of the bank of england, in vol. iii. of the collection of his "writings, edited by saxe bannister," ( vols. vo. london, ). ---- enslin und engelmann. bibliothek der handlungswissenschaft - . leipzig, . _trials._--the catalogue of the library of the philosophical institution of edinburgh ( ) contains (pp. - ) a very useful list of trials in an alphabet of the persons tried. the table is arranged under name, charge, date of trial, and reference. _voyages and travels._--locke's catalogue and character of most books of voyages and travels is interesting on account of locke's notes. (locke's works, , vols. vo., vol. x. pp. - .) there are catalogues of books of travels in pinkerton's collection ( ), and kerr's collection ( ). ---- boucher de la richaderie, bibliothèque universelle des voyages, paris, . vols. vo. ---- engelmann (w.). bibliotheca geographica. leipzig, . _zoology._--agassiz's bibliographia zoologicæ et geologicæ, published by the ray society, - , was a useful book in its day, but it is of no value bibliographically, and the titles being mostly taken at second-hand, the work is full of blunders. ---- carus and engelmann's bibliotheca zoologica, leipzig , forms a supplement to the bibliotheca historico-naturalis of engelmann. * * * * * a large number of bibliographies of particular authors have been published in this country and abroad, and it may be useful here to make a note of some of these. ariosto, orlando furioso: ulisse guidi, _bologna_, , . g.j. ferrazzi, _bassano_, . boccaccio: m. landau, _napoli_, . burns: j. mackie, _kilmar_, . calderon: e. dorer, _leipzig_, . camoens: adamson's life of camoens, vol. , . cervantes: e. dorer, _leipzig_, . corneille: e. picot, _paris_, . dante: bibliografia dantesca, _prato_, - . c.u.j. chevalier, . g.a. scartazzini, dante in germania, . j. petzholdt, _dresden_, . goethe: s. hirzel, . luther: e.g. vogel, _halle_, . j. edmands, _philadelphia_, . manzoni: a. vosmara, _milano_, . molière: p. lacroix, _paris_, . montaigne: j.f. payer, _paris_, . persius: j. tarlier, _bruxelles_, . petrarch: marsand, _milano_, . " a. hortis, _trieste_, . " g.j. ferrazzi, _bassano_, . c.u.j. chevalier, montpéliard, . rabelais: j.c. brunet, _paris_, . schiller: l. unflad, _münchen_, . tasso: g.j. ferrazzi, _bassano_, . voltaire: g. bengesco, _paris_, . * * * * * browning: f.j. furnivall, browning society, - . carlyle: r.h. shepherd, . defoe: m. stace, ; wilson, ; lee, . dickens: r.h. shepherd, . " j. cook, paisley, . hazlitt, leigh hunt, charles lamb: a. ireland, . ruskin: r.h. shepherd, . shakespeare: j. wilson, ; j.o. halliwell, ; moulin, ; sillig and ulrici, ; h.g. bohn, ; f. thimm, - ; k. knortz, ; unflad, ; justin winsor (poems); birmingham memorial library catalogue (j.d. mullens). shelley: h.b. forman, . tennyson: r.h. shepherd, . thackeray: r.h. shepherd, . wycliffe: j. edmands, . dr. garnett commenced a ms. list of such special bibliographies as he came across in treatises on the different subjects. this list is added to and kept in the reading room for use by the librarians. i was allowed the privilege of referring to this very useful list. chapter vii. publishing societies. a large amount of important information is to be found in the publications of the numerous societies formed for the purpose of supplying to their subscribers valuable works which are but little likely to find publishers. these publications have in a large number of instances added to our knowledge of history and literature considerably. the societies have much increased of late years, but no record of the publications is easily to be obtained, since the full account given in bohn's supplement to lowndes's _bibliographer's manual_. the earliest of publishing societies was the _dilettanti society_, instituted in london in , which issued some fine illustrated volumes of classical travel. a long period of time elapsed without any societies of a similar character being formed. _the roxburghe club_ formed in the year in commemoration of the sale of the magnificent library of john third duke of roxburghe (died march , ). it was chiefly intended as a social club, and a long list of bibliographical toasts was run through at the banquets. the publications were not at first of any great literary value, although some of them were curious and interesting. after a time competent editors were employed, and some important works produced. sir frederick madden's editions of "havelok the dane" was issued in , of the romance of "william and the werwolf" in , and of the old english version of "gesta romanorum" in . the valuable "manners and household expenses of england in the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries," edited by t. hudson turner, was presented to the club by beriah botfield in ; payne collier's edition of the "household books of john duke of norfolk, and thomas earl of surrey, - ," was issued in , and his "five old plays illustrative of the early progress of the english drama" in ; the rev. joseph stevenson's edition of "the owl and the nightingale, a poem of the twelfth century," was issued in , and his edition of "the ayenbite of inwyt" in ; john gough nichols's edition of the "literary remains of king edward the sixth" appeared in and ( vols.), and dr. furnivall's edition of henry lonelich's "seynt graal" in - . several years elapsed before the second great printing club was founded. in _the bannatyne club_ was started in edinburgh, chiefly by sir walter scott, for the purpose of printing works illustrative of the history, antiquities and literature of scotland. it derives its names from george bannatyne (born feb. , , died ). a long series of books have been issued by the club to its members, many of which are of great interest. the catalogue of the abbotsford library was presented in to the members "by major sir walter scott, bart., as a slight return for their liberality and kindness in agreeing to continue to that library the various valuable works printed under their superintendence." in the same year appeared sir frederick madden's edition of _sir gawayne_. bishop gawin douglas's "palace of honour" was printed in , and his translation of virgil's "Æneid" in ( vols.). the club was closed in . _the maitland club_, which derived its name from sir richard maitland of lethington (born in , died march , ), was instituted in glasgow in . a volume containing "the burgh records of the city of glasgow, to ," was presented to the club in - ; the poems of drummond of hawthornden in ; robert wodrow's "collection upon the lives of the reformers and most eminent ministers of the church of scotland" in - ( vols.). dauncey's ancient scottish melodies in . sir bevis of hamtoun in the same year, the metrical romance of lancelot du lak in ; wodrow's analecta, or materials for a history of remarkable providences, in - ( vols.). henry laing's descriptive catalogue of ancient seals, in . the club was closed in . _the abbotsford club_ was founded in honour of sir walter scott in , by mr. w.b.d.d. turnbull. the first book (issued in ) was a volume of "ancient mysteries from the digby ms."; "arthur and merlin, a metrical romance," was printed in ; "romances of sir guy of warwick and rembrun his son," in ; "the legend of st. katherine of alexandra," in ; "sir degaree, a metrical romance of the end of the nineteenth century," in . the club was closed in . these printing clubs were select in their constitution, and the books being printed for the members in small numbers, they are difficult to obtain and their price is high. with the foundation of the camden society an entirely new system was adopted, and the general body of book lovers, poor as well as rich, were appealed to with great success, and valuable books were supplied to the subscribers at a price which would have been impossible without such means. the camden society is entitled to this honour on account of the general interest of its publications, but the surtees society was actually the first to inaugurate the new system. the subscription fixed was double that which the founders of the camden society adopted, but it was, perhaps, a bolder step to start a society, appealing to a somewhat restricted public with a two guinea subscription, than to appeal to the whole reading public with a subscription of one pound. before saying more of the surtees and camden societies, it will be necessary to mention some other printing clubs which preceded them. _the oriental translation fund_ was established in , with the object of publishing translations from eastern mss. into the languages of europe. when the issue of books was discontinued, the stock of such books as remained was sold off, and many of these can still be obtained at a cheap rate. _the iona club_ was instituted in , for the purpose of investigating the history, antiquities, and early literature of the highlands and islands of scotland, but little has been done in the way of publication. the first book was "collectanea de rebus albanicis," and the second, "transactions of the club," vol. i. in parts. a second volume was announced, but never appeared. _the surtees society_ was founded at durham in for the publication of inedited manuscripts, illustrative of the moral, the intellectual, the religious, and the social condition of those parts of england and scotland included on the east, between the humber and the frith of forth, and on the west, between the mersey and the clyde, a region which constituted the ancient kingdom of northumberland. the society is named after robert surtees, of mainforth, author of the "history of the county palatine of durham." although founded more than fifty years ago, the society is still flourishing, and carried on with the same vigour as of old. the series of publications is a long one, and contains a large number of most important works. the second book issued was "wills and inventories, illustrative of the history, manners, language, statistics, etc., of the northern counties of england, from the eleventh century downwards" (part was issued in ); the third, "the towneley mysteries or miracle plays"; the fourth, "testamenta eboracensia: wills illustrative of the history, manners, language, statistics, etc., of the province of york, from " (vol. ). the second volume of this series was issued in . "anglo-saxon and early english psalter" was issued in - ( vols.); "the durham household book; or, the accounts of the bursar of the monastery of durham, from to ," in . _the camden society_, instituted in , has issued to its subscribers a large number of books of the greatest interest on historical and literary subjects. the set of publications is so well known that it is not necessary to enumerate titles here. among the most valuable are the several volumes devoted to the correspondence of certain old families, such as the "plumpton correspondence" ( ), "egerton papers" ( ), "rutland papers" ( ), and "savile correspondence" ( ). the romances and chronicles must also be mentioned, and the remarkable edition of the oldest english dictionary, "promptorium parvulorum," which was fully and learnedly edited by the late mr. albert way. a second series was commenced in , which is still continued. the same year which saw the foundation of the camden society also gave birth to _the english historical society_. sixteen works of considerable value were issued, but the greatest of these is the grand "codex diplomaticus Ævi saxonici" of the late j. mitchell kemble ( - ). _the spalding club_, named after john spalding, commissary clerk of aberdeen, and founded at aberdeen in for the printing of the historical, ecclesiastical, genealogical, topographical, and literary remains of the north-eastern counties of scotland, was formed on the model of the exclusive clubs; but being affected by the more democratic constitution of the later printing societies, its subscription was fixed at one guinea. amongst the most interesting of the club's publications are the "sculptured stones of scotland" ( ), "barbour's brus" ( ), and the "fasti aberdonensis: selections from the records of the university and king's college of aberdeen from to " ( ). the year saw the foundation of three very important societies, viz. the parker, the percy, and the shakespeare. _the parker society_ took its name from the famous archbishop of canterbury, martin parker, and its objects were ( ) the reprinting, without abridgment, alteration or omission, of the best works of the fathers and early writers of the reformed english church published in the period between the accession of edward vi. and queen elizabeth; ( ) the printing of such works of other writers of the sixteenth century as may appear desirable (including under both classes some of the early english translations of the foreign reformers), and ( ) the printing of some mss. of the same authors hitherto unpublished. the society was an enormous success, and at one time the list contained seven thousand members; but owing to the multitude of copies printed, and the somewhat dry character of the books themselves, many of them can now be obtained at a ridiculously small sum, the price of a complete set usually averaging little more than a shilling a volume. when the series was completed, a valuable general index to the whole was compiled by mr. henry gough, . _the percy society_ took its name from bishop percy, author of the "reliques of ancient english poetry" (born , died ), and was founded for the purpose of bringing to light important but obscure specimens of ballad poetry, or works illustrative of that department of literature. the society was dissolved in , but during the thirteen years of its existence it produced a singularly interesting series of publications. the number of separate works registered in bohn's appendix to lowndes's bibliographer's manual is , besides "quippes for upstart newfangled gentlewomen by stephen gosson," which was suppressed, and "rhyming satire on the pride and vices of women now-a-days, by charles bansley," , which was reprinted in , but not issued. the set is much sought after, and fetches a good price. _the shakespeare society_ was founded in , to print books illustrative of shakespeare and of the literature of his time, and a very valuable collection of works was issued to the subscribers during the term of its existence. it was dissolved in , and the remaining stock was made up into volumes and sold off. there was much for the society still to do; but the controversy arising out of the discovery of the forgeries connected with john payne collier's name made it difficult for the shakespearians to work together with harmony. in this same year the _musical antiquarian society_ was founded, and during the seven years of its existence it issued books of madrigals, operas, songs, anthems, etc., by early english composers. in the following year ( ), the _motett society_ was founded for the publication of ancient church music. five parts only, edited by dr. rimbault, were issued. in the _society for the publication of oriental texts_ was founded, and a series of works in syriac, arabic, sanscrit, and persian was distributed to the subscribers until , when the society was dissolved. _the wodrow society_ was instituted in edinburgh in , for the publication of the early writers of the reformed church of scotland, and named after the rev. robert wodrow. among its publications are, "autobiography and diary of james melvill," "correspondence of the rev. r. wodrow" ( vols.), "history of the reformation in scotland, by john knox" ( vols.). the society was dissolved in . _the Ælfric society_ was founded in for the publication of those anglo-saxon and other literary monuments, both civil and ecclesiastical, tending to illustrate the early state of england. the publications, which were not numerous, were edited by benjamin thorpe and j.m. kemble, and the society was discontinued in . _the chetham society_, founded at manchester in , for the publication of historical and literary remains connected with the palatine counties of lancaster and chester, was named after humphrey chetham (born , died ). the society, which still flourishes, has now produced a very long series of important works, and the volumes, which are not often met with, keep up their price well. _the sydenham society_ for reprinting standard english works in medical literature, and for the translation of foreign authors, with notes, was founded in . after printing a number of important works, the society was dissolved in , and was succeeded by _the new sydenham society_. _the spottiswoode society_ was founded at edinburgh in , for the revival and publication of the acknowledged works of the bishops, clergy, and laity of the episcopal church of scotland, and rare, authentic, and curious mss., pamphlets and other works illustrative of the civil and ecclesiastical state of scotland. it takes its name from john spottiswoode, the first duly consecrated scottish archbishop after the reformation (born , died .) the late mr. hill burton gives an amusing account of the foundation of this society in his delightful _book-hunter_. he writes: "when it was proposed to establish an institution for reprinting the works of the fathers of the episcopal church in scotland, it was naturally deemed that no more worthy or characteristic name could be attached to it than that of the venerable prelate, who by his learning and virtues had so long adorned the episcopal chair of moray and ross [robert jolly], and who had shown a special interest in the department of literature to which the institution was to be devoted. hence it came to pass that, through a perfectly natural process, the association for the purpose of reprinting the works of certain old divines was to be ushered into the world by the style and title of the jolly club. there happened to be amongst those concerned, however, certain persons so corrupted with the wisdom of this world, as to apprehend that the miscellaneous public might fail to trace this designation to its true origin, and might indeed totally mistake the nature and object of the institution, attributing to it aims neither consistent with the ascetic life of the departed prelate, nor with the pious and intellectual object of its founders. the counsels of these worldly-minded persons prevailed. the jolly club was never instituted,--at least as an association for the reprinting of old books of divinity,--though i am not prepared to say that institutions, more than one so designed may not exist for other purposes. the object, however, was not entirely abandoned. a body of gentlemen united themselves together under the name of another scottish prelate, whose fate had been more distinguished, if not more fortunate, and the spottiswoode society was established. here, it will be observed, there was a passing to the opposite extreme, and so intense seems to have been the anxiety to escape from all excuse for indecorous jokes or taint of joviality, that the word club, wisely adopted by other bodies of the same kind, was abandoned, and this one called itself a society." the publications were discontinued about . _the calvin translation society_ was established at edinburgh in , and its work was completed in , by the publication of twenty-two commentaries, etc., of the great reformer in fifty-two volumes. _the ray society_ was founded in for the publication of works on natural history (zoology and botany), and a large number of valuable books, fully illustrated, have been produced, many of them translations from foreign works. many of the later publications are more elaborately coloured than the earlier ones. _the wernerian club_ was instituted in for the republication of standard works of scientific authors of old date. _the handel society_ was founded at london in , for the purpose of printing the works of handel in full score. sixteen volumes were issued, and in the society was dissolved, the german handel society resuming the publication. _the hanserd knollys society_ was instituted in for the publication of the works of early english and other baptist writers, and one of these was an edition of bunyan's pilgrim progress from the text of the first edition. the society was dissolved about . _the caxton society_ was instituted in for the publication of chronicles and other writings hitherto unpublished, illustrative of the history and miscellaneous literature of the middle ages. this society was formed on a somewhat original basis. the members were to pay no annual subscription, but they engaged to purchase one copy of all books published by the society. the expense of printing and publishing to be defrayed out of the proceeds of the sale, and the money remaining over to be paid to the editors. _the cavendish society_ was instituted in for the promotion of chemical science by the translation and publication of valuable works and papers on chemistry not likely to be undertaken by ordinary publishers. during its last years the society existed for the publication of gmelin's voluminous "handbook of chemistry," and when this work was completed, with a general index, the society ceased to exist. _the ecclesiastical history society_ was instituted in , and one of its early publications was the first volume of wood's "athenæ oxoniensis," edited by dr. bliss, but this only contained the life of anthony wood himself. the society was dissolved in , after publishing the book of common prayer according to a ms. in the rolls office, dublin ( vols.), and sundry other works. _the hakluyt society_, named after richard hakluyt (born , died ), was founded at the end of for the purpose of printing the most rare and valuable voyages, travels and geographical records, from an early period of exploratory enterprise to the circumnavigation of dampier. the first two volumes ("sir richard hawkins's voyage into the south sea, ," and "select letters of columbus") were issued in , and the society still flourishes. between and the society has presented to its members an important series of books of travel, at the rate of about two volumes a year for an annual subscription of one guinea. _the palæontographical society_ was founded in for the purpose of figuring and describing a stratigraphical series of british fossils. the annual volumes consist of portions of works by the most eminent palæontologists, and these works are completed as soon as circumstances allow, but several of them are still incomplete. _the arundel society_ is so important an institution that it cannot be passed over in silence, although, as the publications chiefly consist of engravings, chromolithographs, etc., it scarcely comes within the scope of this chapter. the society takes its name from thomas howard earl of arundel, in the reigns of james i. and charles i., who has been styled the "father of _vertu_ in england." it was founded in , and its purpose is to diffuse more widely, by means of suitable publications, a knowledge both of the history and true principles of painting, sculpture, and the higher forms of ornamental design, to call attention to such masterpieces of the arts as are unduly neglected, and to secure some transcript or memorial of those which are perishing from ill-treatment or decay. the publications of the society have been very successful, and many of them cannot now be obtained. most of the societies above described have appealed to a large public, and endeavoured to obtain a large amount of public support; but in was formed an exclusive society, with somewhat the same objects as the roxburghe club. _the philobiblon society_ was instituted chiefly through the endeavours of mr. r. monckton milnes (the late lord houghton) and the late mons. sylvain van de weyer. the number of members was at first fixed at thirty-five, but was raised in to forty, including the patron and honorary secretaries. the publications consist chiefly of a series of bibliographical and historical miscellanies, contributed by the members, which fill several volumes. besides these there are "the expedition to the isle of rhe by lord herbert of cherbury," edited and presented to the members by the earl of powis; "inventaire de tous les meubles du cardinal mazarin," edited and presented by h.r.h. the duke d'aumale; "memoires de la cour d'espagne sous la regne de charles ii., - ," edited and presented by william stirling (afterwards sir william stirling maxwell); "the biography and bibliography of shakespeare," compiled and presented by henry g. bohn; "analyse des travaux de la société des philobiblon de londres," par octave delepierre. _the ossianic society_ was instituted at dublin in for the preservation and publication of manuscripts in the irish language, illustrative of the fenian period of irish history, etc., with literal translations and notes. _the warton club_ was instituted in and issued four volumes, after which it was dissolved. _the manx society_ was instituted at douglas, isle of man, in , for the publication of national documents of the isle of man. all the societies mentioned above are registered in henry bohn's appendix to lowndes's bibliographer's manual, and lists of the publications up to are there given. most of them are also described in hume's "learned societies and printing clubs of the united kingdom" ( ). since, however, the publication of these two books, a considerable number of important printing societies have been formed, and of these a list is not readily obtainable, except by direct application to the respective secretaries. the newly printed general catalogue of the british museum in the reading room however contains a full list of the publications of the various societies under the heading of _academies_. the foundation of the _early english text society_ in caused a renewed interest to be taken in the publications of the printing clubs. the origin of the society was in this wise. when the philological society undertook the formation of a great english dictionary, the want of printed copies of some of the chief monuments of the language was keenly felt. mr. f.j. furnivall, with his usual energy, determined to supply the want, and induced the council of the philological society to produce some valuable texts. it was found, however, that these publications exhausted much of the funds of the society, which was required for the printing of the papers read at the ordinary meetings, so that it became necessary to discontinue them. mr. furnivall, then, in conjunction with certain members of the philological society, founded the early english text society. the society possessed the inestimable advantage of having among its founders mr. richard morris (afterwards the rev. dr. morris), who entered with fervour into the scheme, and produced a large amount of magnificent work for the society. dr. furnivall put the objects of the society forward very tersely when he said that none of us should rest "till englishmen shall be able to say of their early literature what the germans can now say with pride of theirs--'every word of it is printed, and every word of it is glossed.'" the society prospered, and in an extra series was started, in which were included books that had already been printed, but were difficult to obtain from their rarity and price. one hundred and twenty-six volumes have been issued between and , eighty-two volumes of the original series and forty-four of the extra series, and there can be no doubt that the publications of the society have had an immense influence in fostering the study of the english language. the prefaces and glossaries given with each work contain an amount of valuable information not elsewhere to be obtained. these books throw light upon the growth of the language, and place within the reach of a large number of readers works of great interest in the literature of the country. the greatest work undertaken by the society is the remarkable edition of "william's vision of piers the plowman," which prof. skeat has produced with an expenditure of great labour during nearly twenty years. the last part, containing elaborate notes and glossary, was issued in . the subjects treated of are very various. there is a fair sprinkling of romances, which will always be amongst the most interesting of a society's publications. manners and customs are largely illustrated in a fair proportion of the texts, as also are questions of social and political history. perhaps the least interesting to the general reader are the theological texts, which are numerous, but the writers of these were thoroughly imbued with the spirit of their times, and although they are apt to be prosy, they are pretty sure to introduce some quaint bits which compensate for a considerable amount of dulness. these books help us to form a correct idea of the beliefs of our forefathers, and to disabuse our minds of many mistaken views which we have learnt from more popular but less accurate sources. _the ballad society_ grew out of the publication, by special subscription, of bishop percy's folio manuscript, edited by f.j. furnivall and j.w. hales. this was issued in connection with the early english text society (but not as one of its texts), through the energy of mr. furnivall, who had many difficulties to overcome before he was able to get permission to print the manuscript, which had been very faithfully guarded from the eyes of critics. he had to pay for the privilege, and in the end the old volume was sold to the nation, and it now reposes among the treasures of the british museum. when this useful work was completed, mr. furnivall was anxious to follow it by a reprint of all the known collections of ballads, such as the roxburghe, bagford, rawlinson, douce, etc., and for this purpose he started the ballad society in . he himself edited some particularly interesting "ballads from manuscripts," and an elaborate account of captain cox's ballads and books in a new edition of robert laneham's letter on the entertainment at kenilworth in . the veteran ballad illustrator, mr. william chappell, undertook to edit the "roxburghe ballads," and produced nine parts, when the rev. j.w. ebsworth took the work off his hands. mr. ebsworth had previously reproduced the "bagford ballads," and he is now the editor-in-chief of the society. the following is a short list of the publications of the society: nos. , , , , "ballads from manuscripts"; nos. , , , , , , , , . "the roxburghe ballads," edited by wm. chappell; no. , "captain cox, his ballads and books"; no. , "love poems and humourous ones"; nos. , , , , "the bagford ballads." no. , "the amanda group of bagford ballads;" nos. , , , , , , "the roxburghe ballads," edited by the rev. j.w. ebsworth. no. completes the fifth volume of the "roxburghe ballads." there are two more volumes to come, and then mr. ebsworth will undertake "the civil war and protectorate ballads." much of the work on these volumes is done, and they only await an increase in the subscription list. it is to be hoped that when the good work done by the ballad society is better known, the editor will not be kept back in his useful course by the want of funds for printing. mr. ebsworth's thorough work is too well known to need praise here, but it may be noted that his volumes contain a remarkable amount of illustration of the manners of the time not to be obtained elsewhere. the value of this is the more apparent by the system of arrangement in marked periods which the editor has adopted. _the chaucer society_ was founded in by mr. furnivall, "to do honour to chaucer, and to let the lovers and students of him see how far the best unprinted manuscripts of his works differed from the printed texts." for the canterbury tales, mr. furnivall has printed the six best unprinted mss. in two forms--( ) in large oblong parts, giving the parallel texts; ( ) in octavo, each text separately. the six manuscripts chosen are--the ellesmere; the lansdowne (brit. mus.); the hengwrt; the corpus, oxford; the cambridge (university library); the petworth. dr. furnivall has now added harleian to complete the series. the society's publications are issued in two series, of which the first contains the different texts of chaucer's works, and the second such originals of and essays on these as can be procured, with other illustrative treatises and supplementary tales. _the spenser society_ was founded at manchester in for the publication of well-printed editions of old english authors in limited numbers. the chief publication issued to subscribers was a reprint, in three volumes folio, of the works of john taylor, the water-poet, from the original folio. the other publications are in small quarto, and among them are the works of john taylor not included in the folio, the works of wither, etc. _the roxburghe library_ was a subscription series, commenced by mr. w. carew hazlitt in , with the same objects as a publishing society. it was discontinued in . the following is a list of the publications:--"romance of paris and vienne"; "william browne's complete works," vols.; "inedited tracts of the th and th centuries ( - )"; "the english drama and stage under the tudor and stuart princes, - "; "george gascoigne's complete poems," vols.; "thomas carew's poems." _the harleian society_ was founded in . their chief publication has been the late colonel chester's magnificently edited registers of westminster abbey. other registers published are those of st. peter's, cornhill; st. dionis backchurch; st. mary aldermary; st. thomas the apostle; st. michael, cornhill; st. antholin, budge lane; and st. john the baptist, on wallbrook. of the other publications there are visitations of bedfordshire, cheshire, cornwall, cumberland, devon, essex, leicestershire, london , , nottingham, oxford, rutland, somersetshire, warwickshire, and yorkshire, and le neve's catalogue of knights. _the hunterian club_ was founded at glasgow in , and named after the hunterian library in the university. among the publications of the club are a series of tracts by thomas lodge and samuel rowlands; the poetical works of alexander craig; poetical works of patrick hannay; sir t. overburie's vision by richard niccols, . the printing of the famous bannatyne manuscript, compiled by george bannatyne, , was commenced by the society in , and the seventh part, which completed this invaluable collection of scottish poetry, was issued in . _the folk lore society_ was founded by the late mr. w.j. thoms (inventor of the term folk lore) in , and during the seven years of its existence it has done much valuable work, chiefly through the energetic direction of mr. g.l. gomme, the hon. sec. (now director). the object of the society is stated to be "the preservation and publication of popular traditions, legendary ballads, local proverbial sayings, superstitions and old customs (british and foreign), and all subjects relating to them." the principal publication of the society, the _folk lore record_, now the _folk lore journal_, was at first issued in volumes, and afterwards in monthly numbers. it is now a quarterly. the other publications are:--henderson's folk-lore of the northern counties of england and the borders, a new edition; aubrey's remaines of gentilisme and judaisme; gregor's notes on the folk-lore of the north-east of scotland; comparetti's book of sindibad and pedroso's portuguese folk tales; black's folk medicine; callaway's religious system of the amazulu. the year saw the formation of several publishing societies. _the new shakspere society_ was founded by dr. f.j. furnivall, for the reading of papers, which have been published in a series of transactions, and also for the publication of collations of the quarto plays, and works illustrating the great dramatist's times. among the latter works are harrison's description of england, stubbes's anatomie of abuses, dr. ingleby's shakespeare's centurie of prayse, etc. _the english dialect society_ was founded at cambridge by the rev. professor skeat. its objects are stated to be ( ) to bring together all those who have made a study of any of the provincial dialects of england, or who are interested in the subject of provincial english; ( ) to combine the labours of collectors of provincial english words by providing a common centre to which they may be sent, so as to gather material for a general record of all such words; ( ) to publish (subject to proper revision) such collections of provincial english words that exist at present only in manuscript; as well as to reprint such glossaries of provincial words as are not generally accessible, or are inserted in books of which the main part relates to other subjects; and ( ) to supply references to sources of information which may be of material assistance to word-collectors, students, and all who have a general or particular interest in the subject. the publications are arranged under the following series: a, bibliographical; b, reprinted glossaries; c, original glossaries; d, miscellaneous. in the society was transferred to manchester, and mr. j.h. nodal became honorary secretary. _the palæographical society_ was formed for the purpose of reproducing specimens of manuscripts, and it has produced a series of facsimiles of ancient manuscripts, edited by e.a. bond and e.m. thompson, part being issued in . at the end of the year _the index society_ was founded for the purpose of producing ( ) indexes of standard works; ( ) subject indexes of science, literature and art; and ( ) a general reference index. the publications were commenced in , and the first annual meeting was held in march, , the earl of carnarvon being the first president. the first publication was "what is an index?" by h.b. wheatley. among the important books issued by the society may be mentioned solly's "index of hereditary titles of honour"; daydon jackson's "guide to the literature of botany" and "literature of vegetable technology," and rye's "index of norfolk topography." the _society for the promotion of hellenic studies_ was founded in for the following objects: ( ) to advance the study of the greek language, literature, and art, and to illustrate the history of the greek race in the ancient, byzantine, and neo-hellenic periods, by the publication of memoirs and inedited documents or monuments in a journal to be issued periodically. ( ) to collect drawings, facsimiles, transcripts, plans, and photographs of greek inscriptions, mss., works of art, ancient sites and remains, and with this view to invite travellers to communicate to the society notes or sketches of archæological and topographical interest. ( ) to organise means by which members of the society may have increased facilities for visiting ancient sites and pursuing archæological researches in countries which, at any time, have been the sites of hellenic civilization. five volumes of the _journal_ have been issued. _the topographical society of london_ was formed in . the inaugural meeting was held at the mansion house, and the first annual meeting at drapers' hall on feb. , , with the lord mayor (sir john whitaker ellis), president, in the chair. the following reproductions have been issued to subscribers:--van der wyngaerde's view of london, ab. , sheets; braun & hogenberg's plan of london, sheet; visscher's view of london, sheets. _the browning society_ was founded by dr. furnivall in , and besides papers read at the meetings, the society has issued dr. furnivall's "bibliography of browning." _the wyclif society_ was founded also by dr. furnivall in , for the publication of the complete works of the great reformer. _the pipe roll society_ was established in , and in the first three volumes of its publications have been issued to the members. these are--vol. , pipe rolls, hen. ii.; vol. , hen. ii.; vol. , introduction. _the oxford historical society_ was formed in , and four handsome volumes have been issued for that year and . these are-- , "register of the university of oxford" (vol. , - , - ), edited by the rev. c.w. boase; , "remarks and collections of thomas hearne" (vol. , july , -march , ), edited by c.e. doble, m.a. both these volumes are supplied with temporary indexes. , "the early history of oxford, - ," by james parker; , "memories of merton college," by the hon. george c. brodrick; , "collectanea." first series. edited by c.r.l. fletcher. _the middlesex county record society_ was formed in "for the purpose of publishing the more interesting portions of the old county records of middlesex, which have lately been arranged and calendared by order of the justices." nothing has been published as yet, but mr. cordy jeaffreson is engaged upon the first two volumes, one of which will be issued shortly. the rev. dr. a.b. grosart has himself printed by subscription more works of our old writers than many a society, and therefore it is necessary to mention his labours here, although a complete list of them cannot be given. the chief series are: "the fuller worthies library," volumes; "the chertsey worthies library," vols. to., and "the huth library." chapter viii. child's library. the idea of a child's library is to a great extent modern, and it is not altogether clear that it is a good one, except in the case of those children who have no books of their own. it is far better that each child should have his own good books, which he can read over and over again, thus thoroughly mastering their contents. it is a rather wide-spread notion that there is some sort of virtue in reading for reading's sake, although really a reading boy may be an idle boy. when a book is read, it should be well thought over before another is begun, for reading without thought generates no ideas. one advantage of a child's library should be that the reader is necessarily forced to be careful, so as to return the books uninjured. this is a very important point, for children should be taught from their earliest years to treat books well, and not to destroy them as they often do. we might go farther than this and say that children should be taught at school how to handle a book. it is really astonishing to see how few persons (not necessarily children) among those who have not grown up among books know how to handle them. it is positive torture to a man who loves books to see the way they are ordinarily treated. of course it is not necessary to mention the crimes of wetting the fingers to turn over the leaves, or turning down pages to mark the place; but those who ought to know better will turn a book over on its face at the place where they have left off reading, or will turn over pages so carelessly that they give a crease to each which will never come out. for a healthy education it is probably best that a child should have the run of a library for adults (always provided that dangerous books are carefully excluded). a boy is much more likely to enjoy and find benefit from the books he selects himself than from those selected for him. the circumstances of the child should be considered in the selection of books; thus it is scarcely fair when children are working hard at school all day that they should be made to read so-called instructive books in the evening. they have earned the right to relaxation and should be allowed good novels. to some boys books of travels and history are more acceptable than novels, but all children require some fiction, and, save in a few exceptional cases, their imaginations require to be cultivated. it will soon be seen whether children have healthy or unhealthy tastes. if healthy, they are best left to themselves; if unhealthy, they must be directed. it is easy for the seniors to neglect the children they have under them, and it is easy to direct them overmuch, but it is difficult to watch and yet let the children go their own way. we are apt, in arranging for others, to be too instructive; nothing is less acceptable to children or less likely to do them good than to be preached at. moral reflections in books are usually skipped by children, and unless somewhat out of the common, probably by grown-up persons as well. instruction should grow naturally out of the theme itself, and form an integral part of it, so that high aims and noble thoughts may naturally present themselves to the readers. one of the chapters in the united states libraries' report is on "school and asylum libraries" (pp. - ), in which we are informed that new york was the pioneer in founding school libraries. "in governor de witt clinton, in his message to the legislature, recommended their formation; but it was not till that the friends of free schools saw their hopes realized in the passage of a law which permitted the voters in any school district to levy a tax of $ to begin a library, and a tax of $ each succeeding year to provide for its increase." another chapter in the same report is on "public libraries and the young" (pp. - ), in which mr. wm. j. fletcher advocates the use of the library as an addition to the school course. he writes, "it only remains now to say that, as we have before intimated, the public library should be viewed as an adjunct of the public school system, and to suggest that in one or two ways the school may work together with the library in directing the reading of the young. there is the matter of themes for the writing of compositions; by selecting subjects on which information can be had at the library, the teacher can send the pupil to the library as a student, and readily put him in communication with, and excite his interest in, classes of books to which he has been a stranger and indifferent." a very interesting book on this subject is entitled "libraries and schools. papers selected by samuel s. green. new york (f. leypoldt), ." it contains the following subjects: "the public library and the public schools;" "the relation of the public library to the public schools"; "libraries as educational institutions"; "the public library as an auxiliary to the public schools"; "the relation of libraries to the school system"; and "a plan of systematic training in reading at school." "_books for the young, a guide for parents and children._ compiled by c. m. hewins. new york (f. leypoldt), ," is an extremely useful little book. it contains a valuable list of books arranged in classes. certain marks are used to indicate the character of the books, thus the letter (_c_) indicates that the book is especially suitable for children under ten, (_b_) that it is especially suitable for boys, and (_g_) that it is especially suitable for girls. prefixed are eight sensible rules as to how to teach the right use of books. perkins's "best reading" contains a good list of books for children (pp. - ). the children's books of the present day are so beautifully produced that the elders are naturally induced to exclaim, "we never had such books as these," but probably we enjoyed our books as well as our children do theirs. what a thrill of pleasure the middle-aged man feels when a book which amused his childhood comes in his way: this, however, is seldom, for time has laid his decaying hand upon them-- "all, all are gone, the old familiar faces." the children for whom miss kate greenaway and mr. caldecott draw and mrs. gatty and mrs. ewing wrote are indeed fortunate, but we must not forget that charles and mary lamb wrote delightful books for the young, that miss edgeworth's stories are ever fresh, and that one of the most charming children's stories ever written is mrs. sherwood's _little woodman_. a short list of a child's library is quoted in the _library journal_ (vol. viii. p. ) from the _woman's journal_. the family for whom it was chosen consisted of children from three to twelve, the two eldest being girls. the books are mostly american, and but little known in this country-- snow-bound. illustrated. whittier. life of longfellow. kennedy. a summer in the azores. baker. among the isles of shoals. celia thaxter. the boys of ' . coffin. the boys of ' . coffin. story of our country. higginson. sir walter raleigh. towle. child's history of england. dickens. tales from shakespear. lamb. tales from homer. church. the wonder-book. illustrated. hawthorne. young folks' book of poetry. campbell. poetry for childhood. eliot. bits of talk about home matters. h.h. the seven little sisters. andrews. hans brinker, or the silver skates. dodge. room for one more. mary t. higginson. king arthur for boys. lanier. doings of the bodley family. scudder. mother-play and nursery-rhymes. children's robinson crusoe. the four-footed lovers. mammy tittleback and her family. h.h. the little prudy books. six volumes. the editor of the _library journal_ remarks on the list, "guest's lectures on english history is better than dickens's, and the 'prudy' children are so mischievous, so full of young americanisms, and so far from being 'wells of english undefiled,' that they are not always good companions for boys and girls. i have known a child's english spoiled by reading the prudy books." some of the old-fashioned children's books have been reprinted, and these will generally be found very acceptable to healthy-minded children, but some of the old books are not easily met with. no child's library should be without a good collection of fairy tales, a careful selection of the arabian nights, or robinson crusoe. gulliver's travels is very unsuited for children, although often treated as a child's book. berquin's _children's friend_, edgeworth's _parent's assistant_ and the aikins's _evenings at home_, will surely still amuse children, although some may think their teaching too didactic. it is only by practical experience that we can tell what children will like. _sandford and merton_ is, i believe, usually considered as hopelessly out of date, but i have found young hearers follow my reading of it with the greatest interest. _the pilgrim's progress_ will always have as great a fascination for the young as it must have for their elders; but there is much preaching in it which must be skipped, or the attention of the hearers will flag. chapter ix. one hundred books. in the fourth chapter of this volume two lists of selected books are given, viz. the comtist's library, and a list of one hundred good novels. since that chapter was written and printed, much public attention has been drawn to this branch of our subject by the publication of sir john lubbock's list of books which he recommended to the members of the working men's college, when he lectured at that place on "books." the comments by eminent men, which have appeared in the _pall mall gazette_, have also attracted attention, and it seems desirable that some note on this list should appear in these pages. the list issued by the _pall mall gazette_ is as follows: non-christian moralists. marcus aurelius, _meditations_. epictetus, _encheiridion_. confucius, _analects_. aristotle, _ethics_. mahomet, _koran_. theology and devotion. apostolic fathers, _wake's collection_. st. augustine, _confessions_. thomas à kempis, _imitation_ pascal, _pensées_. spinoza, _tractatus theologico-politicus_. butler, _analogy_. jeremy taylor, _holy living and holy dying_. keble, _christian year_. bunyan, _pilgrim's progress_. classics. aristotle, _politics_. plato, _phædo_ and _republic_. Æsop, _fables_. demosthenes, _de coronâ_. lucretius. plutarch. horace. cicero, _de officiis_, _de amicitiâ_, and _de senectute_. epic poetry. homer, _iliad_ and _odyssey_. hesiod. virgil. niebelungenlied. malory, _morte d'arthur_. eastern poetry. _mahabharata_ and _ramayana_ (epitomised by talboys wheeler). firdausi, _shah-nameh_ (translated by atkinson). _she-king_ (chinese odes). greek dramatists. Æschylus, _prometheus_, _the house of atreus_, trilogy, or _persæ_. sophocles, _oedipus_, trilogy. euripides, _medea_. aristophanes, _the knights_. history. herodotus. thucydides. xenophon, _anabasis_. tacitus, _germania_. gibbon, _decline and fall_. voltaire, _charles xii._ or _louis xiv._ hume, _england_. grote, _greece_. philosophy. bacon, _novum organum_. mill, _logic_ and _political economy_. darwin, _origin of species_. smith, _wealth of nations_ (selection). berkeley, _human knowledge_. descartes, _discourse sur la méthode_. locke, _conduct of the understanding_. lewes, _history of philosophy_. travels. cook, _voyages_. darwin, _naturalist in the beagle_. poetry and general literature. shakspeare. milton. dante. spenser. scott. wordsworth. pope. southey. longfellow. goldsmith, _vicar of wakefield_. swift, _gulliver's travels_. defoe, _robinson crusoe_. _the arabian nights._ _don quixote._ boswell, _johnson_. burke, _select works_. essayists--addison, hume, montaigne, macaulay, emerson. molière. sheridan. carlyle, _past and present_ and _french revolution_. goethe, _faust_ and _wilhelm meister_. marivaux, _la vie de marianne_. modern fiction. selections from--thackeray, dickens, george eliot, kingsley, scott, bulwer-lytton. it must be borne in mind by the reader that this list, although the one sent round for criticism by the editor of the _pall mall gazette_, is not really sir john lubbock's. this will be found on p. . sir john lubbock's address was not given in full, and the list drawn up by the _pall mall_, from the reports in the daily papers, contained in fact only about books. it seems necessary to allude particularly to this imperfect list, because it is the only one upon which the critics were asked to give an opinion, and their criticisms are peculiarly interesting, as they give us an important insight into the tastes and opinions of our teachers. in itself it is almost impossible to make a list that will be practically useful, because tastes and needs differ so widely, that a course of reading suitable for one man may be quite unsuitable for another. it is also very doubtful whether a conscientious passage through a "cut-and-dried" list of books will feed the mind as a more original selection by each reader himself would do. it is probably best to start the student well on his way and then leave him to pursue it according to his own tastes. each book will help him to another, and consultation with some of the many manuals of english literature will guide him towards a good choice. this is in effect what mr. bond, principal librarian of the british museum, says in his reply, to the circular of the editor of the _pall mall gazette_. he writes "the result of several persons putting down the titles of books they considered 'best reading' would be an interesting but very imperfect bibliography of as many sections of literature;" and, again, "the beginner should be advised to read histories of the literature of his own and other countries--as hallam's 'introduction to the literature of europe,' joseph warton's 'history of english poetry,' craik's 'history of english literature,' paine's history, and others of the same class. these would give him a survey of the field, and would quicken his taste for what was naturally most congenial to him." there probably is no better course of reading than that which will naturally occur to one who makes an honest attempt to master our own noble literature. this is sufficient for the lifetime of most men without incursions into foreign literature. all cultivated persons will wish to become acquainted with the masterpieces of other nations, but this diversion will not be advisable if it takes the reader away from the study of the masterpieces of his own literature. turning to the comments on the _pall mall gazette's_ list, we may note one or two of the most important criticisms. the prince of wales very justly suggested that dryden should not be omitted from such a list. mr. chamberlain asked whether the bible was excluded by accident or design, and mr. irving suggested that the bible and shakespeare form together a very comprehensive library. mr. ruskin's reply is particularly interesting, for he adds but little, contenting himself with the work of destruction. he writes, "putting my pen lightly through the needless--and blottesquely through the rubbish and poison of sir john's list--i leave enough for a life's liberal reading--and choice for any true worker's loyal reading. i have added one quite vital and essential book--livy (the two first books), and three plays of aristophanes (_clouds_, _birds_, and _plutus_). of travels, i read myself all old ones i can get hold of; of modern, humboldt is the central model. forbes (james forbes in alps) is essential to the modern swiss tourist--of sense." mr. ruskin puts the word _all_ to plato, _everything_ to carlyle, and _every word_ to scott. pindar's name he adds in the list of the classics, and after bacon's name he writes "chiefly the _new atlantis_." the work of destruction is marked by the striking out of all the _non-christian moralists_, of all the theology and devotion, with the exception of jeremy taylor and the _pilgrim's progress_. the nibelungenlied and malory's _morte d'arthur_ (which, by the way, is in prose) go out, as do sophocles and euripides among the greek dramatists. _the knights_ is struck out to make way for the three plays of aristophanes mentioned above. gibbon, voltaire, hume, and grote all go, as do all the philosophers but bacon. cook's voyages and darwin's naturalist in the _beagle_ share a similar fate. southey, longfellow, swift, hume, macaulay, and emerson, goethe and marivaux, all are so unfortunate as to have mr. ruskin's pen driven through their names. among the novelists dickens and scott only are left. the names of thackeray, george eliot, kingsley, and bulwer-lytton are all erased. mr. ruskin sent a second letter full of wisdom till he came to his reasons for striking out grote's "history of greece," "confessions of st. augustine," john stuart mill, charles kingsley, darwin, gibbon, and voltaire. with these reasons it is to be hoped that few readers will agree. mr. swinburne makes a new list of his own which is very characteristic. no. consists of "selections from the bible: comprising job, the psalms, ecclesiastes, the song of solomon, isaiah, ezekiel, joel; the gospels of st. matthew and st. luke, the gospel and the first epistle of st. john and epistle of st. james." no. is villon, and nos. to consist of the plays of ford, dekker, tourneur, marston, and middleton; names very dear to the lover of our old drama, but i venture to think names somewhat inappropriate in a list of books for a reader who does not make the drama a speciality. lamb's selections would be sufficient for most readers. mr. william morris supplies a full list with explanations, which are of considerable interest as coming from that distinguished poet. archdeacon farrar gives, perhaps, the best test for a favourite author, that is, the selection of his works in the event of all others being destroyed. he writes, "but if all the books in the world were in a blaze, the first twelve which i should snatch out of the flames would be the bible, _imitatio christi_, homer, Æschylus, thucydides, tacitus, virgil, marcus aurelius, dante, shakespeare, milton, wordsworth. of living authors i would save first the works of tennyson, browning and ruskin." another excellent test is that set up by travellers and soldiers. a book must be good when one of either of these classes decides to place it among his restricted baggage. mr. h.m. stanley writes, "you ask me what books i carried with me to take across africa. i carried a great many--three loads, or about lbs. weight; but as my men lessened in numbers, stricken by famine, fighting and sickness, they were one by one reluctantly thrown away, until finally, when less than miles from the atlantic, i possessed only the bible, shakespeare, carlyle's sartor resartus, norie's navigation, and nautical almanac for . poor shakspeare was afterwards burned by demand of the foolish people of zinga. at bonea, carlyle and norie and nautical almanac were pitched away, and i had only the old bible left." he then proceeds to give a list of books which he allowed himself when "setting out with a tidy battalion of men." lord wolseley writes, "during the mutiny and china war i carried a testament, two volumes of shakespeare that contained his best plays, and since then, when in the field, i have always carried: book of common prayer, thomas à kempis, soldier's pocket book.... the book that i like reading at odd moments is 'the meditations of marcus aurelius.'" he then adds, for any distant expedition, a few books of history (creasy's "decisive battles," plutarch's "lives," voltaire's "charles xii.," "cæsar," by froude, and hume's "england"). his fiction is confined to macaulay's "history of england" and the "essays." mr. quaritch remarks that "sir john's 'working man' is an ideal creature. i have known many working men, but none of them could have suggested such a feast as he has prepared for them." he adds, "in my younger days i had no books whatever beyond my school books. arrived in london in , i joined a literary institution, and read all their historical works. to read fiction i had no time. a friend of mine read novels all night long, and was one morning found dead in his bed." if mr. quaritch intends this as a warning, he should present the fact for the consideration of those readers who swell the numbers of novels in the statistics of the free libraries. looking at the _pall mall gazette's_ list, it naturally occurs to us that it would be a great error for an englishman to arrange his reading so that he excluded chaucer while he included confucius. among the names of modern novelists it is strange that jane austen and charlotte brontë should have been omitted. in sir john lubbock's own list it will be seen that the names of chaucer and miss austen occur. among essayists one would like to have seen at least the names of charles lamb, de quincey, and landor, and many will regret to find such delightful writers as walton and thomas fuller omitted. we ought, however, to be grateful to sir john lubbock for raising a valuable discussion which is likely to draw the attention of many readers to books which might otherwise have been most unjustly neglected by them.[ ] the following is sir john lubbock's list. it will be seen that several of the books, whose absence is remarked on, do really form part of the list, and that the objections of the critics are so far met. _the bible._ * * * * * marcus aurelius, _meditations_. epictetus. confucius, _analects_. _le bouddha et sa religion_ (st.-hilaire). aristotle, _ethics_. mahomet, _koran_ (parts of). * * * * * _apostolic fathers_, wake's collection. st. augustine, _confessions_. thomas à kempis, _imitation_. pascal, _pensées_. spinoza, _tractatus theologico-politicus_. comte, _cat. of positive philosophy_ (congreve). butler, _analogy_. jeremy taylor, _holy living and holy dying_. bunyan, _pilgrim's progress_. keble, _christian year_. * * * * * aristotle, _politics_. plato's dialogues--at any rate the _phædo_ and _republic_. demosthenes, _de coronâ_. lucretius. plutarch. horace. cicero, _de officiis_, _de amicitiâ_, _de senectute_. * * * * * homer, _iliad_ and _odyssey_. hesiod. virgil. niebelungenlied. malory, _morte d'arthur_. * * * * * maha-bharata, _ramayana_, epitomized by talboys wheeler in the first two vols. of his _history of india_. firdusi, _shah-nameh_. translated by atkinson. _she-king_ (chinese odes). * * * * * Æschylus, _prometheus_, _house of atreus_, trilogy, or _persæ_. sophocles, _oedipus_, trilogy. euripides, _medea_, aristophanes, _the knights_. * * * * * herodotus. xenophon, _anabasis_. thucydides. tacitus, _germania_. livy. gibbon, _decline and fall_. hume, _england_. grote, _greece_. carlyle, _french revolution_. green, _short history of england_. bacon, _novum organum_. mill, _logic_ and _political economy_. darwin, _origin of species_. smith, _wealth of nations_ (part of). berkeley, _human knowledge_. descartes, _discours sur la méthode_. locke, _conduct of the understanding_. lewes, _history of philosophy_. * * * * * cook, _voyages_. humboldt, _travels_. darwin, _naturalist in the beagle_. * * * * * shakespeare. milton, _paradise lost_, and the shorter poems. dante, _divina commedia_. spenser, _faerie queen_. dryden's poems. chaucer, morris's (or, if expurgated, clarke's or mrs. haweis's) edition. gray. burns. scott's poems. wordsworth, mr. arnold's selection. heine. pope. southey. * * * * * goldsmith, _vicar of wakefield_. swift, _gulliver's travels_. defoe, _robinson crusoe_. _the arabian nights._ cervantes, _don quixote_. boswell, _johnson_. burke, _select works_ (payne). essayists:--bacon, addison, hume, montaigne, macaulay, emerson. molière. sheridan. voltaire, _zadig_. carlyle, _past and present_. goethe, _faust_, _wilhelm meister_. white, _natural history of selborne_. smiles, _self help_. * * * * * miss austen, either _emma_ or _pride and prejudice_. thackeray, _vanity fair_ and _pendennis_. dickens, _pickwick_ and _david copperfield_. george eliot, _adam bede_. kingsley, _westward ho_! bulwer-lytton, _last days of pompeii_. scott's novels. footnotes: [ ] the whole of the correspondence has been reissued as a _pall mall "extra"_ no. , and threepence will be well laid out by the purchaser of this very interesting pamphlet. index. abbotsford club, . advocates' library, edinburgh, indecent books turned out, . Ælfric society, . arundel society, . authors, bibliographies of particular, . ballad society, . bannatyne club, . bibliographies (general), - . ---- (special), - . bindings in charles i.'s cabinet, . book collectors, . books, one hundred, - . booksellers, use of, . bossange (hector), ma bibliothèque française, . burton's book hunter, , , . buy, how to, - . calvin translation society, . camden society, . catalogues of public libraries, . cavendish society, . caxton society, . chaucer society, .[tn ] chetham society, . child's library, - . comte's positivist library, . dibdin's library companion, . dilettanti society, . durie's reformed librarie keeper, . early english text society, . ecclesiastical history society, . edwards (edward), report on formation of manchester free library, . ---- memoirs of libraries, , . ---- libraries and founders of libraries, , . english dialect society, . english historical society, . fiction in public libraries, . folk lore society, . franklin's foundation of the philadelphia library, . george iii.'s list of books, . goodhugh's library manual, . hakluyt society, . handel society, . hanserd knollys society, . harleian society, . hellenic studies, society for the promotion of, . hunterian club, . index society, . iona club, . johnson's (dr.) list of books, . libraries, how men have formed them, - . ---- (cathedral), . ---- (monastic), . ---- (private), - . ---- (public), - . ---- united states report on, , , . louis xvi., his books during his captivity, . lubbock's (sir john), list of books, - . maitland club, . manx society, . middlesex county record society, . motett society, . musical antiquarian society, . napoleon's libraries, . naudé, gilbert [tn gabriel], . novels, one hundred good, . ---- in public libraries, . oriental texts, society for the publication of, . oriental translation fund, . ossianic society, . oxford historical society, . palæographical society, . palæontographical society, . parker society, . percy society, . perkins's best reading, . philobiblon society, . pipe roll society, . positivist library, . printers, bibliographies of celebrated, . ray society, . reference, books of, - . roxburghe club, . roxburghe library, . sales, how to buy at, . shakespeare society, . shakspere (new) society, . societies (publishing), - . spalding club, . spenser society, . spottiswoode society, . stevens (henry), "my english library," . ---- his paper on mr. james lenox, , . surtees society, . sydenham society, . topographical bibliographies, . topographical society of london, . warton club, . wernerian club, . wodrow society, . wyclif society, [illustration] transcriber's note inconsistent spelling retained. [transcriber's note: this text was printed as a twelve-page addition to the james de mille novel _an american baron_, published . the "pointing finger" symbol is shown here as -->. where available, the project gutenberg e-text number is given in brackets after each title. note that the e-text will probably not be based on the listed edition (harper & brothers, no later than ). full names of authors are given at the end of the e-text.] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * harper's library of select novels. "the library of select novels" has become an institution, a reliable and unfailing recreative resource essential to the comfort of countless readers. the most available entertainment of modern times is fiction: from the cares of busy life, from the monotonous routine of a special vocation, in the intervals of business and in hours of depression, a good story, with faithful descriptions of nature, with true pictures of life, with authentic characterization, lifts the mind out of the domain of care, refreshes the feelings, and enlists the imagination. the harpers' "library of select novels" is rapidly approaching its four hundredth number, and it is safe to say that no series of books exists which combines attractiveness and economy, local pictures and beguiling narrative, to such an extent and in so convenient a shape. in railway-cars and steamships, in boudoirs and studios, libraries and chimney corners, on verandas and in private sanctums, the familiar brown covers are to be seen. these books are enjoyed by all classes; they appear of an average merit, and with a constant succession that is marvelous; and in subject and style offer a remarkable variety. --_boston transcript._ price . pelham. by bulwer [ ] $ . the disowned. by bulwer [ ] . devereux. by bulwer [ ] . paul clifford. by bulwer [ ] . eugene aram. by bulwer [ ] . the last days of pompeii. by bulwer [ ] . the czarina. by mrs. hofland . rienzi. by bulwer [ ] . self-devotion. by miss campbell . the nabob at home . ernest maltravers. by bulwer [ ] . alice; or, the mysteries. by bulwer [ ] . the last of the barons. by bulwer [ ] . forest days. by james . adam brown, the merchant. by h. smith . pilgrims of the rhine. by bulwer [ ] . the home. by miss bremer [ ] . the lost ship. by captain neale . the false heir. by james . the neighbors. by miss bremer . nina. by miss bremer . the president's daughters. by miss bremer . the banker's wife. by mrs. gore . the birthright. by mrs. gore . new sketches of every-day life. by miss bremer . arabella stuart. by james . the grumbler. by miss pickering . the unloved one. by mrs. hofland . jack of the mill. by william howitt . the heretic. by lajetchnikoff . the jew. by spindler . arthur. by sue . chatsworth. by ward . the prairie bird. by c. a. murray . amy herbert. by miss sewell . rose d'albret. by james . the triumphs of time. by mrs. marsh . the h---- family. by miss bremer . the grandfather. by miss pickering . arrah neil. by james . the jilt . tales from the german . arthur arundel. by h. smith . agincourt. by james . the regent's daughter . the maid of honor . safia. by de beauvoir . look to the end. by mrs. ellis . the improvisatore. by andersen . the gambler's wife. by mrs. grey . veronica. by zschokke . zoe. by miss jewsbury . wyoming . de rohan. by sue . self. by the author of "cecil" . the smuggler. by james . the breach of promise . parsonage of mora. by miss bremer . a chance medley. by t. c. grattan . the white slave . the bosom friend. by mrs. grey . amaury. by dumas . the author's daughter. by mary howitt . only a fiddler, &c. by andersen . the whiteboy. by mrs. hall . the foster-brother. edited by leigh hunt . love and mesmerism. by h. smith . ascanio. by dumas . lady of milan. edited by mrs. thomson . the citizen of prague . the royal favorite. by mrs. gore . the queen of denmark. by mrs. gore . the elves, &c. by tieck , . the stepmother. by james . jessie's flirtations . chevalier d'harmental. by dumas . peers and parvenus. by mrs. gore . the commander of malta. by sue . the female minister . emilia wyndham. by mrs. marsh . the bush-ranger. by charles rowcroft . the chronicles of clovernook . genevieve. by lamartine . livonian tales . lettice arnold. by mrs. marsh . father darcy. by mrs. marsh . leontine. by mrs. maberly . heidelberg. by james . lucretia. by bulwer [ ] . beauchamp. by james , . fortescue. by knowles . daniel dennison, &c. by mrs. hofland . cinq-mars. by de vigny [ ] . woman's trials. by mrs. s. c. hall . the castle of ehrenstein. by james . marriage. by miss s. ferrier [ ] . roland cashel. by lever . the martins of cro' martin. by lever . russell. by james . a simple story. by mrs. inchbald [ ] . norman's bridge. by mrs. marsh . alamance . margaret graham. by james . the wayside cross. by e. h. milman . the convict. by james . midsummer eve. by mrs. s. c. hall . jane eyre. by currer bell [ ] . the last of the fairies. by james . sir theodore broughton. by james . self-control. by mary brunton , . harold. by bulwer [ ] . brothers and sisters. by miss bremer . gowrie. by james . a whim and its consequences. by james . three sisters and three fortunes. by g. h. lewes . the discipline of life . thirty years since. by james . mary barton. by mrs. gaskell [ ] . the great hoggarty diamond. by thackeray . the forgery. by james . the midnight sun. by miss bremer , . the caxtons. by bulwer [ ] . mordaunt hall. by mrs. marsh . my uncle the curate . the woodman. by james . the green hand. a "short yarn" . sidonia the sorceress. by meinhold [ , ] . shirley. by currer bell . the ogilvies. by miss mulock . constance lyndsay. by g. c. h. . sir edward graham. by miss sinclair . hands not hearts. by miss wilkinson . the wilmingtons. by mrs. marsh . ned allen. by d. hannay . night and morning. by bulwer [ ] . the maid of orleans . antonina. by wilkie collins [ ] . zanoni. by bulwer [ ] . reginald hastings. by warburton . pride and irresolution . the old oak chest. by james . julia howard. by mrs. martin bell . adelaide lindsay. edited by mrs. marsh . petticoat government. by mrs. trollope . the luttrells. by f. williams . singleton fontenoy, r. n. by hannay . olive. by miss mulock [ ] . henry smeaton. by james . time, the avenger. by mrs. marsh . the commissioner. by james . the wife's sister. by mrs. hubback . the gold worshipers . the daughter of night. by fullom . stuart of dunleath. by hon. caroline norton . arthur conway. by captain e. h. milman . the fate. by james . the lady and the priest. by mrs. maberly . aims and obstacles. by james . the tutor's ward . florence sackville. by mrs. burbury . ravenscliffe. by mrs. marsh . maurice tiernay. by lever . the head of the family. by miss mulock . darien. by warburton . falkenburg . the daltons. by lever . ivar; or, the skjuts-boy. by miss carlen . pequinillo. by james . anna hammer. by temme . a life of vicissitudes. by james . henry esmond. by thackeray [ ] , . my novel. by bulwer [ ] . katie stewart. by mrs. oliphant . castle avon. by mrs. marsh . agnes sorel. by james . agatha's husband. by miss mulock . villette. by currer bell [ ] . lover's stratagem. by miss carlen . clouded happiness. by countess d'orsay . charles auchester. a memorial . lady lee's widowhood . the dodd family abroad. by lever . sir jasper carew. by lever . quiet heart. by mrs. oliphant . aubrey. by mrs. marsh . ticonderoga. by james . hard times. by dickens [ ] . the young husband. by mrs. grey . the mother's recompense. by grace aguilar [ , ] . avillion, and other tales. by miss mulock . north and south. by mrs. gaskell [ ] . country neighborhood. by miss dupuy . constance herbert. by miss jewsbury . the heiress of haughton. by mrs. marsh . the old dominion. by james . john halifax. by miss mulock [ ] . evelyn marston. by mrs. marsh . fortunes of glencore. by lever . leonora d'orco. by james . nothing new. by miss mulock . the rose of ashurst. by mrs. marsh . the athelings. by mrs. oliphant . scenes of clerical life. by george eliot [ ] . my lady ludlow. by mrs. gaskell [ ] , . gerald fitzgerald. by lever . a life for a life. by miss mulock . sword and gown. by geo. lawrence [ ] . misrepresentation. by anna h. drury . the mill on the floss. by george eliot [ ] . one of them. by lever . a day's ride. by lever . notice to quit. by wills . a strange story. by bulwer [ ] . the struggles of brown, jones, and robinson. by anthony trollope . abel drake's wife. by john saunders . olive blake's good work. by jeaffreson . the professor's lady . mistress and maid. by miss mulock [ ] . aurora floyd. by m. e. braddon . barrington. by lever . sylvia's lovers. by mrs. gaskell [ ] . a first friendship . a dark night's work. by mrs. gaskell [ ] . countess gisela. by e. marlitt . st. olave's . a point of honor . live it down. by jeaffreson . martin pole. by saunders . mary lyndsay. by lady emily ponsonby . eleanor's victory. by m. e. braddon . rachel ray. by trollope . john marchmont's legacy. by m. e. braddon . annis warleigh's fortunes. by holme lee . the wife's evidence. by wills . barbara's history. by amelia b. edwards . cousin phillis. by mrs. gaskell [ ] . what will he do with it? by bulwer [ ] . the ladder of life. by amelia b. edwards . denis duval. by thackeray . maurice dering. by geo. lawrence . margaret denzil's history . quite alone. by george augustus sala . mattie: a stray . my brother's wife. by amelia b. edwards . uncle silas. by j. s. le fanu [ ] . lovel the widower. by thackeray . miss mackenzie. by anthony trollope . on guard. by annie thomas . theo leigh. by annie thomas . denis donne. by annie thomas . belial . carry's confession. by the author of "mattie: a stray" . miss carew. by amelia b. edwards . hand and glove. by amelia b. edwards . guy deverell. by j. s. le fanu . half a million of money. by amelia b. edwards . the belton estate. by anthony trollope [ ] . agnes. by mrs. oliphant . walter goring. by annie thomas . maxwell drewitt. by mrs. j. h. riddell . the toilers of the sea. by victor hugo . miss marjoribanks. by mrs. oliphant . the true history of a little ragamuffin . gilbert rugge. by the author of "a first friendship" . sans merci. by geo. lawrence . phemie keller. by mrs. j. h. riddell . land at last. by edmund yates . felix holt, the radical. by george eliot . bound to the wheel. by john saunders . all in the dark. by j. s. le fanu . kissing the rod. by edmund yates . the race for wealth. by mrs. j. h. riddell . lizzie lorton of greyrigg. by mrs. e. lynn linton . the beauclercs, father and son. by clarke . sir brooke fossbrooke. by charles lever . madonna mary. by mrs. oliphant . cradock nowell. by r. d. blackmore . bernthal. from the german of l. mühlbach . rachel's secret . the claverings. by anthony trollope [ ] . the village on the cliff. by miss thackeray . played out. by annie thomas . black sheep. by edmund yates . sowing the wind. by mrs. e. lynn linton . nora and archibald lee . raymond's heroine . mr. wynyard's ward. by holme lee . alec forbes of howglen. by mac donald [ ] . no man's friend. by f. w. robinson . called to account. by annie thomas . caste . the curate's discipline. by mrs. eiloart . circe. by babington white . the tenants of malory. by j. s. le fanu . carlyon's year. by the author of "lost sir massingberd," &c. . the waterdale neighbors. by the author of "paul massie" . mabel's progress. by the author of "aunt margaret's trouble" . guild court. by george mac donald . the brothers' bet. by emilie flygare carlen . playing for high stakes. by annie thomas . margaret's engagement . one of the family. by the author of "carlyon's year" . five hundred pounds reward. by a barrister . brownlows. by mrs. oliphant . charlotte's inheritance. by m. e. braddon [ ] . jeanie's quiet life. by the author of "st. olave's," &c. . poor humanity. by f. w. robinson . brakespeare. by geo. lawrence . a lost name. by j. sheridan le fanu . love or marriage? by william black . dead-sea fruit. by m. e. braddon . the dower house. by annie thomas . the bramleighs of bishop's folly. by lever . mildred. by georgiana m. craik . nature's nobleman. by the author of "rachel's secret" . kathleen. by the author of "raymond's heroine" . that boy of norcott's. by charles lever . in silk attire. by w. black . hetty. by henry kingsley . false colors. by annie thomas . meta's faith. by the author of "st. olave's" . found dead. by the author of "carlyon's year" . wrecked in port. by edmund yates . the minister's wife. by mrs. oliphant . a beggar on horseback. by the author of "carlyon's year" . kitty. by the author of "doctor jacob" . only herself. by annie thomas . hirell. by john saunders . under foot. by alton clyde . so runs the world away. by mrs. a. c. steele . baffled. by julia goddard . beneath the wheels. by the author of "olive varcoe" . stern necessity. by f. w. robinson . gwendoline's harvest. by the author of "carlyon's year" . kilmeny. by w. black . john: a love story. by mrs. oliphant . true to herself. by f. w. robinson . veronica. by the author of "aunt margaret's trouble" . a dangerous guest. by the author of "gilbert rugge" . estelle russell . the heir expectant. by the author of "raymond's heroine" . which is the heroine? . the vivian romance. by mortimer collins . in duty bound. illustrated . the warden [ ] and barchester towers [ , ]. in vol. by anthony trollope . from thistles--grapes? by mrs. eiloart . a siren. by t. adolphus trollope [ ] . sir harry hotspur of humblethwaite. by anthony trollope. illustrated . earl's dene. by r. e. francillon . daisy nichol. by lady hardy . bred in the bone. by the author of "carlyon's year" [ ] . fenton's quest. by miss braddon. illustrated [ ] . monarch of mincing-lane. by w. black. illustrated . a life's assize. by mrs. j. h. riddell . anteros. by geo. lawrence . her lord and master. by florence marryat . won--not wooed. by the author of "carlyon's year" . for lack of gold. by charles gibbon . anne furness. by the author of "mabel's progress" . a daughter of heth. by w. black . durnton abbey. by t. a. trollope --> _mailing notice. --harper & brothers will send their books by mail, postage free, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ novels by standard authors published by harper & brothers, new york. harper & brothers publish, in addition to others, including their _library of select novels_, the following standard works of fiction: (_for full titles, see harper's 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[* for other novels by the same author, see _library of select novels_.] the domestic life of thomas jefferson. compiled from family letters and reminiscences by his great-granddaughter, sarah n. randolph. _with illustrations._ crown vo, illuminated cloth, beveled edges, $ . this volume brings the life of jefferson in a brief space within the reach of all. while not writing of him as of the great man or statesman, miss randolph has given sufficient outline of the contemporary public events, especially of those in which jefferson was engaged, to make the history of his times sufficiently clear. her object, however, she says, has been to give a faithful picture of jefferson as he was in private life, and for this she was particularly well fitted. her biography is so artless, so frank, and so uncolored, differing so completely from the lives of public men as generally written. * * * this extremely interesting volume. --_richmond whig._ one of the most charming and entertaining of books, and its pages will be a source of continual surprise and pleasure to those who, while admiring the statesman, have had their admiration tempered by the belief that he was a demagogue, a libertine, a gamester, and a scoffer at religion. the age in which jefferson lived was one in which political rancors and animosities existed with no less bitterness than in our later day, and in which, moreover, mutual abuse and malignant recrimination were indulged in with equal fury and recklessness. charges were made against jefferson, by his political opponents, that clung to his good name and sullied it, making it almost a by-word of shame, and its owner a man whose example was to be shunned. the prejudices and calumnies then born have existed down to the present day; but the mists of evil report that have hemmed his life and his memory about are now clearing away, and this sunny book will dispel the last shadow they have cast, and will display the maligned victim of party hate in his true character--as a fond, an amiable, and a simple-hearted father; a firm friend; a truly moral and god-fearing citizen, and one of those few great men who have had the rare fortune to be likewise good men. --_boston saturday evening gazette._ the author of this charming book has had access to the best possible sources of information concerning the private character of mr. jefferson, embracing both the written testimony of his correspondence and the oral testimony of family tradition. from these materials, guided by a profound reverence for the subject, the writer has constructed a most interesting personal biography. * * * a most agreeable addition to american literature, and will revive the memory of a patriot who merits the respect and gratitude of his countrymen. --_philadelphia age._ this handsome volume is a valuable acquisition to american history. it brings to the public observation many most interesting incidents in the life of the third president; and the times and men of the republic's beginnings are here portrayed in a glowing and genial light. the author, in referring to the death-scenes of jefferson, reports sentiments from his lips which contradict the current opinion that the writer of the declaration of independence was an infidel. we are glad to make this record in behalf of truth. young people would find this book both entertaining and instructive. its style is fresh and compact. its pages are full of tender memories. the great man whose career is so charmingly pictured belongs to us all. --_methodist recorder._ there is no more said of public matters in it than is absolutely necessary to make it clear and intelligible; but we have jefferson, the man and the citizen, the husband, the father, the agriculturist, and the neighbor--the man, in short, as he lived in the eyes of his relatives, his closest friends, and his most intimate associates. he is the virginian gentleman at the various stages of his marvelous career, and comes home to us as a being of flesh and blood, and so his story gives a series of lively pictures of a manner of existence that has passed away, or that is so passing, for they are more conservative at the south, socially speaking, than are we at the north, though they live so much nearer the sun than we ever can live. * * * we can commend this book to every one who would know the main facts of mr. jefferson's public career, and those of his private life. it is the best work respecting him that has been published, and it is not so large as to repel even indolent or careless readers. it is, too, an ornamental volume, being not only beautifully printed and bound, but well illustrated. * * * every american should own the volume. --_boston traveller._ a charmingly compiled and written book, and it has to do with one of the very greatest men of our national history. there is scarcely one on the roll of our public men who was possessed of more progressive individuality, or whose character will better repay study, than thomas jefferson, and this biography is a great boon. --_n. y. evening mail._ both deeply interesting and valuable. the author has displayed great tact and taste in the selection of her materials and its arrangement. --_richmond dispatch._ a charming book. --_new orleans times._ it is a series of delightful home pictures, which present the hero as he was familiarly known to his family and his best friends, in his fields, in his library, at his table, and on the broad verandah at monticello, where all the sweetest flavors of his social nature were diffused. his descendant does not conceal the fact that she is proud of her great progenitor; but she is ingenious, and leaves his private letters mostly to speak for themselves. it has been thought that "a king is never a hero to his valet," and the proverb has been considered undeniable; but this volume shows that jefferson, if not exactly the "hero" to whom a little obscurity is so essential, was at least warmly loved and enthusiastically esteemed and admired by those who knew him best. the letters in this volume are full of interest, for they are chiefly published for the first time now. they show a conscientious gentleman, not at all given to personal indulgences, quick in both anger and forgiveness, the greatest american student of his time, excepting the cold-blooded hamilton, absolutely without formality, but particular and exacting in the extreme--just the man who carried his wife to the white house on the pillion of his gray mare, and showed a british embassador the door for an offense against good-breeding. --_chicago evening post._ the reader will recognize the calm and philosophic yet earnest spirit of the thinker, with the tenderness and playful amiability of the father and friend. the letters can not but shed a favorable light on the character of perhaps the best-abused man of his time. --_n. y. evening post._ no attempt is made in this volume to present its subject as a public man or as a statesman. it is simply sought to picture him as living in the midst of his domestic circle. and this it is which will invest the book with interest for all classes of readers, for all who, whatever their politics, can appreciate the beauty of a pure, loving life. * * * it is written in an easy, agreeable style, by a most loving hand, and, perhaps, better than any other biography extant, makes the reader acquainted with the real character of a man whose public career has furnished material for so much book-making. --_philadelphia inquirer._ the perusal of this interesting volume confirms the impression that whatever criticisms may be brought to bear upon the official career of mr. jefferson, or his influence upon the politics of this country, there was a peculiar charm in all the relations of his personal and social life. in spite of the strength of his convictions, which he certainly often expressed with an energy amounting to vehemence, he was a man of rare sunniness of temperament and sweetness of disposition. he had qualities which called forth the love of his friends no less than the hatred of his opponents. his most familiar acquaintance cherished the most ardent admiration of his character. his virtues in the circle of home won the applause even of his public adversaries. --_n. y. tribune._ it lifts up the curtain of his private life, and by numerous letters to his family allows us to catch a glimpse of his real nature and character. many interesting reminiscences have been collected by the author and are presented to the reader. --_boston commercial bulletin._ these letters show him to have been a loving husband, a tender father, and a hospitable gentleman. --_presbyterian._ jefferson was not only eloquent in state papers, but he was full of point and clearness amounting to wit in his minor correspondence. --_albany argus._ it is the record of the life of one of the most extraordinary men of any age or country. --_richmond inquirer._ with the public life of thomas jefferson the public is familiar, as without it no adequate knowledge is possible of the history of virginia or of the united states. its guiding principles and great events, as likewise its smallest details, have long been before the world in the "jefferson papers," and in the laborious history of randall. but to a full appreciation of the politician, the statesman, the publicist, and the thinker, there was still wanting some complete and correct knowledge of the man and his daily life amidst his family. this want miss randolph has endeavored most successfully to supply. as scarcely one of the founders of the republic had warmer friends, or exerted a deeper and a wider influence upon the country, so scarcely one encountered more bitter animosity or had to live down slander more envenomed. truth conquered in the end, and the foul rumors, engendered in partisan conflicts, against the private life of jefferson have long shrunk into silence in the light of his fame. nevertheless, it is well done of his descendant thus to place before the world his life as in his letters and his conversation it appeared from day to day to those nearest and dearest to him. nor is it a matter of small value to bring to our sight the interior life of our ancestors as it is delineated in the letters of jefferson, touching incidently on all the subjects of dress, food, manners, amusements, expenditures, occupations--in brief, neglecting nothing of what the men of those days were and thought and did. it is of such materials that consist the pictures of history whose gaunt outlines of battles, sieges, coronations, dethronements, and parliaments are of little worth without the living and breathing details of everyday existence. * * * the author has happily performed her task, never obtruding her own presence upon the reader, careful only to come forward when necessary to explain some doubtful point or to connect the events of different dates. she may be congratulated upon the grace with which she has both written and forborne to write, never being beguiled by the vanity of authorship or that too great care which is the besetting sin of biography. --_petersburg daily index._ it is a highly interesting book, not only as a portraiture of the domestic life of jefferson, but as a side view of the parties and politics of the day, witnessed in our country seventy years ago. the correspondence of the public characters at that period will be read with special interest by those who study the early history of our government. --_richmond christian observer._ in the unrestrained confidence of family correspondence, nature has always full sway, and the revelations presented in this book of mr. jefferson's real temper and opinions, unrestrained or unmodified by the caution called for in public documents, make the work not only valuable but entertaining. --_n. y. world._ the author has done her work with a loving hand, and has made a most interesting book. --_n. y. commercial advertiser._ it gives a picture of his private life, which it presents in a most favorable light, calculated to redeem jefferson's character from many, if not all, the aspersions and slanders which, in common with most public characters, he had to endure while living. --_new bedford standard._ the letters of jefferson are models of epistolary composition--easy, graceful, and simple. --_new bedford mercury._ the book is a very good picture of the social life not only of himself but of the age in which he lived. --_detroit post._ one of the most charming memoirs of the day. --_n. y. times._ the tom brown books. [illustration {arthur hughes}] _tom brown's school days._ [ ] by an old boy. new edition. beautifully illustrated by arthur hughes and sydney prior hall. vo, paper, cents. nothing need be said of the merits of this acknowledged on all hands to be one of the very best boy's books ever written. "tom brown" does not reach the point of ideal excellence. he is not a faultless boy; but his boy-faults, by the way they are corrected, help him in getting on. the more of such reading can be furnished the better. there will never be too much of it. --_examiner and chronicle._ can be read a dozen times, and each time with tears and laughter as genuine and impulsive as at the first. --_rochester democrat._ finely printed, and contains excellent illustrations. "tom brown" is a book which will always be popular with boys, and it deserves to be. --_world_ (n. y.). for healthy reading it is one book in a thousand. --_advance._ _tom brown at oxford._ by the author of "tom brown's school days." new edition. with illustrations by sydney prior hall. vo, paper, cents. a new and very pretty edition. the illustrations are exceedingly good, the typography is clear, and the paper white and fine. there is no need to say any thing of the literary merits of the work, which has become a kind of classic, and which presents the grand old tory university to the reader in all its glory and fascination. --_evening post._ a book of which one never wearies. --_presbyterian._ fairly entitled to the rank and dignity of an english classic. plot, style, and truthfulness are of the soundest british character. racy, idiomatic, mirror-like, always interesting, suggesting thought on the knottiest social and religious questions, now deeply moving by its unconscious pathos, and anon inspiring uproarious laughter, it is a work the world will not willingly let die. --_christian advocate._ _both books, in one volume, vo, cloth, $ ._ published by harper & brothers, new york. harper & brothers also publish _recollections of eton._ by an etonian. with illustrations. vo, paper, cents. --> _sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ two valuable household books published by harper & brothers, new york. our girls. by dio lewis, a.m., m.d. new edition. mo, cloth, $ . the book not only deserves to be read; it _will_ be read, because it is full of interest, concerning itself, as it does, with such matters as girls' boots and shoes; how girls should walk; low neck and short sleeves; outrages upon the body; stockings supporters; why are women so small? idleness among girls; sunshine and health; a word about baths; what you should eat; how to manage a cold; fat and thin girls, etc., etc. --_n. y. evening post._ dr. dio lewis has written a sensible and lively book. there is not a dull page in it, and scarcely one that does not convey some sound instruction. we wish the book could enter thousands of our homes, fashionable and unfashionable; for we believe it contains suggestions and teaching of precisely the kind that "our girls" every where need. --_n. y. independent._ this really important book. --_christian union._ written in dr. lewis's free and lively style, and is full of good ideas, the fruit of long study and experience, told in a sensible, practical way that commends them to every one who reads. the whole book is admirably sensible. --_boston post._ full of practical and very sensible advice to young women. --_episcopalian._ dr. lewis is well known as an acute observer, a man of great practical sagacity in sanitary reform, and a lively and brilliant writer upon medical subjects. --_n. y. observer._ we like it exceedingly. it says just what ought to be said, and that in style colloquial, short, sharp, and memorable. --_christian advocate._ the whole tone of the book is pure and healthy. --_albany express._ every page shows him to be in earnest, and thoroughly alive to the importance of the subjects he discusses. he talks like one who has a solemn message to deliver, and who deems the matter far more essential than the manner. his book is, therefore, a series of short, earnest appeals against the unnatural, foolish, and suicidal customs prevailing in fashionable society. --_churchman._ a timely and most desirable book. --_springfield union._ full of spicy, sharp things about matters pertaining to health; full of good advice, which, if people would but take it, would soon change the world in some very important respects; not profound or systematic, but still a book with numberless good things in it. --_liberal christian._ the author writes with vigor and point, and with occasional dry humor. --_worcester spy._ brimful of good, common-sense hints regarding dress, diet, recreation, and other necessary things in the female economy. --_boston journal._ dr. lewis talks very plainly and sensibly, and makes very many important suggestions. he does not mince matters at all, but puts every thing in a straightforward and, not seldom, homely way, perspicuous to the dullest understanding. his style is lively and readable, and the book is very entertaining as well as instructive. --_register_, salem, mass. one of the most popular of modern writers upon health and the means of its preservation. --_presbyterian banner._ there is hardly any thing that may form a part of woman's experience that is not touched upon. --_chicago journal._ the bazar book of decorum: care of the person, manners, etiquette, and ceremonials. mo, toned paper, cloth, beveled edges, $ . a series of sensible, well-written, and pleasant essays on the care of the person, manners, etiquette, and ceremonials. the title _bazar book_ is taken from the fact that some of the essays which make up this volume appeared originally in the columns of _harper's bazar_. this in itself is a sufficient recommendation--_harper's bazar_ being probably the only journal of fashion in the world which has good sense and enlightened reason for its guides. the "bazar book of decorum" deserves every commendation. --_independent._ a very graceful and judicious compendium of the laws of etiquette, taking its name from the _bazar_ weekly, which has become an established authority with the ladies of america upon all matters of taste and refinement. --_n. y. evening post._ it is, without question, the very best and most thorough work on the subject which has ever been presented to the public. --_brooklyn daily times._ it would be a good thing if at least one copy of this book were in every household of the united states, in order that all--especially the youth of both sexes--might read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest its wise instruction, pleasantly conveyed in a scholarly manner which eschews pedantry. --_philadelphia press._ abounds in sensible suggestions for keeping one's person in proper order, and for doing fitly and to one's own satisfaction the thousand social duties that make up so large a part of social and domestic life. --_correspondence of cincinnati chronicle._ full of good and sound common-sense, and its suggestions will prove valuable in many a social quandary. --_portland transcript._ a little work embodying a multitude of useful hints and suggestions regarding the proper care of the person and the formation of refined habits and manners. the subject is treated with good sense and good taste, and is relieved from tedium by an abundance of entertaining anecdotes and historical incident. the author is thoroughly acquainted with the laws of hygiene, and wisely inculcates them while specifying the rules based upon them which regulate the civilities and ceremonies of social life. --_evening post_, chicago. * * * it would be easy to quote a hundred curt, sharp sentences, full of truth and force, and touching points of behavior and personal habitude that concern us all. --_springfield republican._ by far the best book of the kind of which we have any knowledge. --_chicago journal._ an eminently sensible book. --_liberal christian._ --> _harper & brothers will send either of the above works by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ science for the young. by jacob abbott, author of "the young christian series," "marco paul series," "rainbow and lucky series," "little learner series," "franconia stories," illustrated histories, &c., &c. few men enjoy a wider or better earned popularity as a writer for the young than jacob abbott. his series of histories, and stories illustrative of moral truths, have furnished amusement and instruction to thousands. he has the knack of piquing and gratifying curiosity. in the book before us he shows his happy faculty of imparting useful information through the medium of a pleasant narrative, keeping alive the interest of the young reader, and fixing in his memory valuable truths. --_mercury_, new bedford, mass. jacob abbott is almost the only writer in the english language who knows how to combine real amusement with real instruction in such a manner that the eager young readers are quite as much interested in the useful knowledge he imparts as in the story which he makes so pleasant a medium of instruction. --_buffalo commercial advertiser._ heat: being part i. of _science for the young_. by jacob abbott. copiously illustrated. mo, illuminated cloth, black and gilt, $ . perhaps that eminent and ancient gentleman who told his young master that there was no royal road to science could admit that he was mistaken after examining one of the volumes of the series "science for the young," which the harpers are now bringing out. the first of these, "heat," by jacob abbott, while bringing two or three young travelers from a new york hotel across the ocean to liverpool in a cunarder, makes them acquainted with most of the leading scientific principles regarding heat. the idea of conveying scientific instruction in this manner is admirable, and the method in which the plan is carried out is excellent. while the youthful reader is skillfully entrapped into perusing what appears to be an interesting story, and which is really so, he devours the substance and principal facts of many learned treatises. surely this is a royal road for our young sovereigns to travel over. --_world_, n. y. it combines information with amusement, weaving in with a story or sketch of travel dry rules of mechanics or chemistry or philosophy. mr. abbott accomplishes this object very successfully. the story is a simple one, and the characters he introduces are natural and agreeable. readers of the volume, young and old, will follow it with unabating interest, and it can not fail to have the intended effect. --_jewish messenger._ it is admirably done. * * * having tried the book with children, and found it absolutely fascinating, even to a bright boy of eight, who has had no special preparation for it, we can speak with entire confidence of its value. the author has been careful in his statements of facts and of natural laws to follow the very best authorities; and on some points of importance his account is more accurate and more useful than that given in many works of considerable scientific pretensions written before the true character of heat as what tyndall calls "a mode of motion" was fully recognized. * * * mr. abbott has, in his "heat," thrown a peculiar charm upon his pages, which makes them at once clear and delightful to children who can enjoy a fairy tale. --_n. y. evening post._ * * * mr. abbott has avoided the errors so common with writers for popular effect, that of slurring over the difficulties of the subject through the desire of making it intelligible and attractive to unlearned readers. he never tampers with the truth of science, nor attempts to dodge the solution of a knotty problem behind a cloud of plausible illustrations. the numerous illustrations which accompany every chapter are of unquestionable value in the comprehension of the text, and come next to actual experiment as an aid to the reader. --_n. y. tribune._ light: being part ii. of _science for the young_. by jacob abbott. copiously illustrated. mo, illuminated cloth, black and gilt, $ . treats of the theory of "light," presenting in a popular form the latest conclusions of chemical and optical science on the subject, and elucidating its various points of interest with characteristic clearness and force. its simplicity of language, and the beauty and appropriateness of its pictorial illustrations, make it a most attractive volume for young persons, while the fullness and accuracy of the information with which it overflows commends it to the attention of mature readers. --_n. y. tribune._ like the previous volume, it is in all respects admirable. it is a mystery to us how mr. abbott can so simplify the most abstruse and difficult principles, in which optics especially abounds, as to bring them within the grasp of quite youthful readers; we can only be very grateful to him for the result. this book is up to our latest knowledge of the wonderful force of which it treats, and yet weaves all its astounding facts into pleasing and readable narrative form. there are few grown people, indeed, whose knowledge will not be vastly increased by a perusal of this capital book. --_n. y. evening mail._ perhaps there is no american author to whom our young people are under so great a debt of gratitude as to this writer. the book before us, like all its predecessors from the same pen, is lucid, simple, amusing, and instructive. it is well gotten up and finely illustrated, and should have a place in the library of every family where there are children. --_n. y. star._ it is the second volume of a delightful series started by mr. abbott under the title or "science for the young," in which is detailed interesting conversations and experiments, narratives of travel, and adventures by the young in pursuit of knowledge. the science of optics is here so plainly and so untechnically unfolded that many of its most mysterious phenomena are rendered intelligible at once. --_cleveland plain dealer._ it is complete, and intensely interesting. such a series must be of great usefulness. it should be in every family library. the volume before us is thorough, and succeeds in popularizing the branch of science and natural history treated, and, we may add, there is nothing more varied in its phenomena or important in its effects than light. --_chicago evening journal._ any person, young or old, who wishes to inform himself in a pleasant way about the spectroscope, magic-lantern cameras, and other optical instruments, and about solar, electric, calcium, magnesium, and all other kinds of light, will find this book of mr. abbott both interesting and instructive. --_lutheran observer._ published by harper & brothers, new york. --> either of the above works sent by mail, postage free, to any part of the united states, on receipt of $ . by anthony trollope. anthony trollope's position grows more secure with every new work which comes from his pen. he is one of the most prolific of writers, yet his stories improve with time instead of growing weaker, and each is as finished and as forcible as though it were the sole production of the author. --_n. y. sun._ _ralph the heir._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _sir harry hotspur of humblethwaite._ engravings. vo, paper, cents. _the vicar of bullhampton._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _the belton estate._ vo, paper, cents. [ ] _the bertrams._ mo, cloth, $ . _brown, jones, and robinson._ vo, paper, cents. _can you forgive her?_ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _castle richmond._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the claverings._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, cents. [ ] _doctor thorne._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _framley parsonage._ engravings. mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _he knew he was right._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _miss mackenzie._ vo, paper, cents. _north america._ mo, cloth, $ . [ , ] _orley farm._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _phineas finn, the irish member._ illustrated by j. e. millais, r.a. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _rachel ray._ vo, paper, cents. _small house at allington._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _the last chronicle of barset._ engravings. vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . [ ] _the three clerks._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the warden [ ] and barchester towers [ , ]._ in one volume. vo, paper, cents. _the west indies and the spanish main._ mo, cloth, $ . _published by harper & brothers, new york._ --> _harper & brothers will send either of the above works by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ by the author of "john halifax." _fair france._ impressions of a traveller. mo, cloth, $ . _a brave lady._ illustrated. vo, paper, $ ; cloth, $ . _the unkind word, and other stories._ mo, cloth, $ . _the woman's kingdom._ a love story. profusely illustrated. vo, paper, $ ; cloth, $ . _the two marriages._ mo, cloth, $ . _a noble life._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _christian's mistake._ mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _john halifax, gentleman._ vo, paper, cents; library edition, mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _a life for a life._ vo, paper, cents; library edition, mo, cloth, $ . _a hero, and other tales._ a hero, bread upon the waters, and alice learmont. mo, cloth, $ . _agatha's husband._ vo, paper, cents. _avillion, and other tales._ vo, paper, $ . _olive._ vo, paper, cents; mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the fairy book._ the best popular fairy stories selected and rendered anew. engravings. mo, cloth, $ . [ ] _the head of the family._ vo, paper, cents. _mistress and maid._ a household story. vo, paper, cents. [ ] _nothing new._ tales. vo, paper, cents. _the ogilvies._ vo, paper, cents; mo, cloth, $ . _our year._ a child's book in prose and verse. illustrated by clarence dobell. mo, cloth, gilt edges, $ . _studies from life._ mo, cloth, gilt edges, $ . _a french country family._ translated from the french of madame de witt (_née_ guizot). illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . _from the north british review._ miss mulock's novels. she attempts to show how the trials, perplexities, joys, sorrows, labors, and successes of life deepen or wither the character according to its inward bent. she cares to teach, _not_ how dishonesty is always plunging men into infinitely more complicated external difficulties than it would in real life, but how any continued insincerity gradually darkens and corrupts the very life-springs of the mind: _not_ how all events conspire to crush an unreal being who is to be the "example" of the story, but how every event, adverse or fortunate, tends to strengthen and expand a high mind, and to break the springs of a selfish or merely weak and self-indulgent nature. she does not limit herself to domestic conversations, and the mere shock of character on character; she includes a large range of events--the influence of worldly successes and failures--the risks of commercial enterprises--the power of social position--in short, the various elements of a wider economy than that generally admitted into a tale. she has a true respect for her work, and never permits herself to "make books," and yet she has evidently very great facility in making them. there are few writers who have exhibited a more marked progress, whether in freedom of touch or in depth of purpose, than the authoress of "the ogilvies" and "john halifax." published by harper & brothers, new york. --> _harper & brothers will send the above works by mail, postage paid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ tennyson's complete poetical works. [illustration {alfred, lord tennyson}] poetical works of alfred tennyson, poet laureate. with numerous illustrations and three characteristic portraits. forty-fifth thousand. including many poems not hitherto contained in his collected works. new edition, containing "the window; or, the loves of the wrens;" with music by arthur sullivan. vo, paper, cents; cloth, $ . tennyson is, without exception, the most popular of living poets. wherever the english language is spoken, in america as well as in england, his name has become familiar as a household word, and some volume of the many he has published is to be found in almost every library. for several years a complete cheap edition of his poetical works has been an acknowledged desideratum. messrs. harper & brothers, taking advantage of the conclusion of the arthurian poems, have now supplied this want by publishing an attractive household edition of the laureate's poems, in one volume, clearly and handsomely printed, and illustrated with many engravings after designs by gustave doré, rossetti, stanfield, w. h. hunt, and other eminent artists. the volume contains every line the laureate has ever published, including the latest of his productions, which complete the noble cycle of arthurian legends, and raise them from a fragmentary series of exquisite cabinet pictures into a magnificent tragic epic, of which the theme is the gradual dethronement of arthur from his spiritual rule over his order, through the crime of guinevere and lancelot; the spread of their infectious guilt, till it breaks up the oneness of the realm, and the order of the round table is shattered, and the ideal king, deserted by many of his own knights, and deeply wounded in the last great battle with the traitor and the heathen, vanishes into the darkness of the world beyond. the print is clear and excellent; the paper is good; the volume has illustrations from doré, millais, and other great artists. really, the edition is a sort of prodigy in its way. --_independent._ those who want a perfect and complete edition of the works of the great english poet laureate should purchase the harper edition. --_troy budget._ a marvel of cheapness. --_the christian era._ the whole get-up and style of this edition are admirable, and we are sure it will be a welcome addition to every book-case, large or small. but the marvelous thing about it is the price, which is only _one dollar_ for the handsome cloth binding. --_tribune_ (wilmington, del.). a marvelous instance of blended beauty and cheapness. --_charleston courier._ published by harper & brothers, new york. --> _sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, on receipt of the price._ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * authors from "select novels" and "standard authors", listed alphabetically, with full name where possible: _some authors on this list were either not named at all, or identified only as "author of...": see following lists. most were identified only by last name, usually but not always with "miss" or "mrs." if female._ aguilar, grace the mother's recompense allan-olney, mary estelle russell andersen, hans christian ["andersen"] the improvisatore only a fiddler, &c. auerbach, berthold the professor's lady baker, william m. ["baker (wm.)"] inside new timothy bell (currer, acton, ellis) _see under bronte_ bell, martin (mrs.) julia howard benedict, frank lee miss van kortland my daughter elinor betham-edwards, matilda kitty black, william ["w. black"] kilmeny a daughter of heth monarch of mincing-lane in silk attire love or marriage? blackmore, r. d. cradock nowell blagden, isa nora and archibald lee braddon, mary elizabeth ["m. e. braddon", "miss braddon"] aurora floyd birds of prey bound to john company charlotte's inheritance dead-sea fruit eleanor's victory fenton's quest john marchmont's legacy bremer, fredrika ["miss bremer"] brothers and sisters the h---- family the home new sketches of every-day life the midnight sun the neighbors nina parsonage of mora the president's daughters bronte, anne [aka acton bell] tenant of wildfell hall bronte, charlotte [aka currer bell] jane eyre shirley villette the professor bronte, emily [aka ellis bell] wuthering heights brooks, shirley ["brooks"] silver cord sooner or later the gordian knot brunton, mary self-control bulwer-lytton, edward george ["bulwer"] a strange story alice; or, the mysteries the caxtons devereux the disowned ernest maltravers eugene aram godolphin harold the last days of pompeii the last of the barons leila lucretia my novel night and morning paul clifford pelham pilgrims of the rhine rienzi what will he do with it? zanoni bulwer, robert ["owen meredith"] the ring of amasis burbury, e. j. ["mrs. burbury"] florence sackville campbell, harriette ["miss campbell"] self-devotion flygare-carlèn, emilie ["miss carlen"] the brothers' bet ivar; or, the skjuts-boy lover's stratagem clarke, charles ["clarke"] the beauclercs, father and son cleghorn, elizabeth ["mrs. gaskell"] cousin phillis cranford. a dark night's work mary barton moorland cottage my lady ludlow north and south right at last, &c. sylvia's lovers wives and daughters clyde, alton under foot collins, mortimer the vivian romance collins, wilkie antonina armadale man and wife moonstone no name queen of hearts woman in white craik, dinah maria mulock ["miss mulock"] agatha's husband avillion, and other tales a brave lady christian's mistake john halifax the head of the family a life for a life mistress and maid a noble life nothing new the ogilvies olive two marriages the unkind word and other stories the woman's kingdom craik, georgiana m. mildred curtis, g. w. trumps curtis, harriot f. jessie's flirtations de bawr, mme. the maid of honor de beauvoir, roger ["de beauvoir"] safia de forest, john william ["de forest"] miss ravenel's conversion from secession to loyalty de mille, james ["de mille"] cord and creese the cryptogram the dodge club de vigny, alfred ["de vigny"] cinq-mars de witt (madame) a french country family motherless dickens, charles ["dickens"] hard times douglas, ann jane dunn ["mrs. george cupples"] the green hand. a "short yarn" drury, anna h. misrepresentation dumas, alexandre ["dumas"] amaury ascanio chevalier d'harmental the regent's daughter dupuy, eliza a. ["miss dupuy"] country neighborhood eastlake, lady elizabeth rigby livonian tales edgeworth, maria ["edgeworth"] novels frank harry and lucy moral tales popular tales rosamond edwards, amelia b. barbara's history debenham's vow half a million of money hand and glove the ladder of life miss carew my brother's wife edwards, annie a point of honor eiloart, elizabeth (mrs. c. j.) ["mrs. eiloart"] the curate's discipline from thistles--grapes? eliot, george adam bede felix holt, the radical the mill on the floss romola scenes of clerical life silas marner ellis, sarah ["mrs. ellis"] look to the end ferrier, susan edmonstone ["miss s. ferrier"] marriage francillon, robert edward ["r. e. francillon"] earl's dene fullom, stephen watson ["fullom"] the daughter of night gardiner, harriet anne frances ["countess d'orsay"] clouded happiness gaskell (mrs.) _see under cleghorn_ gibbon, charles for lack of gold goddard, julia baffled gore, catherine grace frances (moody) ["mrs. gore"] the banker's wife the birthright peers and parvenus the queen of denmark the royal favorite self grattan, thomas colley ["t. c. grattan"] a chance medley greenwood, frederick margaret denzil's history greenwood, james the true history of a little ragamuffin grey, elizabeth caroline ["mrs. grey"] the bosom friend the gambler's wife the young husband hall, anna maria (mrs. s. c.) ["mrs. hall"] the whiteboy midsummer eve woman's trials hamilton, mrs. charles granville ["g. c. h."] constance lyndsay hamley, edward bruce lady lee's widowhood hannay, james ["hannay"] singleton fontenoy, r. n. hannay, david ["d. hannay"] ned allen hardy, mary (mcdowell) duffus ["lady hardy"] daisy nichol which is the heroine? harwood, isabella [aka ross neil] the heir expectant kathleen raymond's heroine henningsen, charles frederick the white slave hofland (mrs.) the czarina daniel dennison, &c. the unloved one housekeeper, m. r. my husband's crime howitt, mary the author's daughter howitt, william jack of the mill hubback (mrs.) the wife's sister hughes, arthur tom brown's school days tom brown at oxford hugo, victor the toilers of the sea hunt, leigh the foster-brother inchbald, elizabeth ["mrs. inchbald"] a simple story jackson, henry a dangerous guest a first friendship gilbert rugge james, george payne rainsford ["james"] agincourt agnes sorel aims and obstacles the ancient régime arabella stuart arrah neil attila beauchamp the castle of ehrenstein charles tyrrel the club book the commissioner the convict corse de lion darnley de l'orme the desultory man the false heir the fate forest days the forgery the gentleman of the old school the gipsy gowrie heidelberg henry masterdon henry smeaton henry of guise the huguenot the jacquerie john marston hall the king's highway the last of the fairies leonora d'orco a life of vicissitudes the man at arms margaret graham mary of burgundy morley ernstein the old dominion the old oak chest one in a thousand pequinillo philip augustus richelieu the robber rose d'albret russell sir theodore broughton the smuggler the stepmother the string of pearls thirty years since ticonderoga a whim and its consequences the woodman jeaffreson, john cordy ["jeaffreson"] isabel live it down not dead yet olive blake's good work jerrold, douglas william the chronicles of clovernook jewsbury, geraldine endsor ["miss jewsbury"] constance herbert zoe johnstone, charles frederick recollections of eton jolly, emily caste kingsley, charles ["kingsley"] alton locke yeast: a problem kingsley, henry hetty stretton knowles, james sheridan ["knowles"] fortescue knox, isa craig in duty bound lajetchnikoff the heretic lamartine, alphonse de ["lamartine"] genevieve lawrence, george ["geo. lawrence"] anteros brakespeare breaking a butterfly guy livingstone maurice dering sans merci sword and gown le fanu, joseph sheridan ["j. s. le fanu"] all in the dark guy deverell a lost name the tenants of malory uncle silas lee, holme [aka harriet parr] annis warleigh's fortunes kathie brande mr. wynyard's ward sylvan holt's daughter lever, charles james ["lever"] barrington the bramleighs of bishop's folly the daltons a day's ride the dodd family abroad fortunes of glencore gerald fitzgerald luttrell of arran the martins of cro' martin maurice tiernay one of them roland cashel sir brooke fossbrooke sir jasper carew that boy of norcott's tony butler lewes, george henry ["g. h. lewes"] three sisters and three fortunes liès, eugène the female minister linton, elizabeth lynn ["mrs. e. lynn linton"] sowing the wind lizzie lorton of greyrigg macdonald, george alec forbes of howglen annals of a quiet neighborhood guild court marlitt, eugenie ["e. marlitt"] countess gisela marryat, florence her lord and master marsh-caldwell, anne ["mrs. marsh"] adelaide lindsay aubrey castle avon emilia wyndham evelyn marston father darcy the heiress of haughton lettice arnold mordaunt hall norman's bridge ravenscliffe the rose of ashurst time, the avenger the triumphs of time the wilmingtons masterman, g. j. belial mccarthy, justin h. my enemy's daughter the waterdale neighbors meinhold sidonia the sorceress melville, herman ["melville"] mardi moby-dick omoo pierre redburn typee whitejacket milman, edward augustus ["e. h. milman", "captain milman"] arthur conway the wayside cross monkland, mrs. the nabob at home more, hannah complete works mühlbach, luise ["l. mühlbach"] bernthal mulock _see under craik_ murray, charles augustus ["c. a. murray"] the prairie bird murray, hamilton falkenburg neale (captain) the lost ship norton, hon. caroline stuart of dunleath notley, frances eliza millet [aka francis derrick] beneath the wheels oliphant, margaret oliphant wilson ["mrs. oliphant"] agnes the athelings brownlows chronicles of carlingford john: a love story katie stewart laird of norlaw last of the mortimers lucy crofton madonna mary the minister's wife miss marjoribanks quiet heart perpetual curate a son of the soil paalzow, henriette wach von the citizen of prague payn, james a beggar on horseback bred in the bone carlyon's year found dead gwendoline's harvest one of the family won--not wooed [_title also published as_ not wooed but won] pickering, ellen ["miss pickering"] the grandfather the grumbler ponsonby, lady emily the discipline of life mary lyndsay pride and irresolution prittie, kate charlotte ["mrs. maberly"] the lady and the priest leontine reade, charles the cloister and the hearth foul play griffith gaunt hard cash it is never too late to mend love me little, love me long peg woffington and other tales put yourself in his place terrible temptation white lies riddell, charlotte eliza lawson (mrs. joseph h.) ["mrs. j. h. riddell", aka f. g. trafford] a life's assize maxwell drewitt phemie keller the race for wealth robinson, emma the gold worshipers the maid of orleans robinson, frederick william ["f. w. robinson"] carry's confession christie's faith for her sake mattie: a stray no man's friend poor humanity stern necessity true to herself rowcroft, charles the bush-ranger sala, george augustus quite alone saunders, john abel drake's wife martin pole bound to the wheel hirell savage, m. w. my uncle the curate sedgwick, catharine maria ["miss sedgwick"] hope leslie live and let live married or single? means and ends poor rich man and rich poor man stories for young persons tales of glauber spa wilton harvey and other tales sedgwick, susan anne livingston ridley ["mrs. sedgwick"] walter thornley sewell, elizabeth missing ["miss sewell"] amy herbert sheppard, elizabeth sara auchester, charles. a memorial sherwood, mary martha ["mrs. sherwood"] works henry milner lady of the manor roxobel sinclair, catherine ["miss sinclair"] sir edward graham skene, felicia the tutor's ward smith, horace ["h. smith"] adam brown, the merchant arthur arundel love and mesmerism smythies, harriet m. g. (mrs. gordon) the breach of promise the jilt spindler the jew steele, anna caroline (wood) ["mrs. a. c. steele"] so runs the world away stephenson, eliza tabor nature's nobleman meta's faith jeanie's quiet life rachel's secret st. olave's sue, eugène ["sue"] arthur the commander of malta de rohan temme, jodocus donatus hubertus ["temme"] anna hammer anne isabel thackeray (ritchie) ["miss thackeray"] the village on the cliff thackeray, william makepeace ["thackeray"] the adventures of philip denis duval the great hoggarty diamond henry esmond lovel the widower the newcomes pendennis vanity fair the virginians thomas, annie [later cudlip] false colors called to account denis donne the dower house on guard only herself played out playing for high stakes theo leigh walter goring thomson, a. t. ["mrs. thomson"] lady of milan tieck, ludwig ["tieck"] the elves, &c. trollope, frances milton ["mrs. trollope"] petticoat government trollope, anthony barchester towers the belton estate bertrams can you forgive her? castle richmond the claverings doctor thorne framley parsonage he knew he was right last chronicle of barset miss mackenzie phineas finn orley farm rachel ray ralph the heir sir harry hotspur of humblethwaite small house at allington the struggles of brown, jones, and robinson three clerks vicar of bullhampton the warden trollope, frances eleanor anne furness mabel's progress veronica trollope, t. adolphus durnton abbey lindisfarn chase a siren warburton, eliot ["warburton"] darien reginald hastings ward, r. plummer ["ward"] chatsworth white, babington circe wigram, w. knox ["a barrister"] five hundred pounds reward wiley, calvin henderson alamance wilkinson, janet w. ["miss wilkinson"] hands not hearts williams, robert folkestone ["f. williams"] the luttrells wills, william gorman ["wills"] notice to quit the wife's evidence wright, caleb e. wyoming, a tale wynne, catherine simpson margaret's engagement yates, edmund black sheep kissing the rod land at last wrecked in port zschokke, heinrich ["zschokke"] veronica "author of...": "aunt margaret's trouble": frances eleanor trollope "carlyon's year": james payn "cecil": mrs. gore "doctor jacob": matilda betham-edwards "a first friendship": henry jackson "gilbert rugge": henry jackson "lost sir massingberd": james payn "mabel's progress": frances eleanor trollope "mattie: a stray": f. w. robinson "olive varcoe": frances eliza millet notley (francis derrick) "paul massie": justin h. mccarthy "rachel's secret": eliza tabor (stephenson) "raymond's heroine": isabella harwood (ross neil) "st. olave's": eliza tabor (stephenson) books identified only by title: _some titles have been used for many different books. in case of ambiguity, the one known to have been published by harper & brothers in or before was assumed._ alamance [calvin henderson wiley] belial [g. j. masterman] bound to john company [m. e. braddon] the breach of promise [mrs. gordon smythies] caste [emily jolly] charles auchester. a memorial [by elizabeth sara sheppard] the chronicles of clovernook [douglas william jerrold] the citizen of prague [henriette wach von paalzow] the discipline of life [lady emily ponsonby] estelle russell [mary allan-olney] falkenburg [hamilton murray] the female minister [eugène liès] a first friendship [henry jackson] the gold worshipers [emma robinson] the green hand. a "short yarn" [mrs. george cupples] in duty bound [isa craig knox] jessie's flirtations [harriot f. curtis] the jilt [harriet m. g. (mrs. gordon) smythies] lady lee's widowhood [edward bruce hamley] livonian tales [lady elizabeth rigby eastlake] the maid of honor [de bawr, mme.] [_full title_: the maid of honor; or, the massacre of st. bartholomew. a tale of the sixteenth century] the maid of orleans [emma robinson] margaret denzil's history [frederick greenwood] margaret's engagement [catherine simpson wynne] miss van kortland [frank lee benedict] my daughter elinor [frank lee benedict] my husband's crime [m. r. housekeeper] my uncle the curate [m. w. savage] the nabob at home [mrs. monkland] nora and archibald lee [isa blagden] a point of honor [annie edwards] pride and irresolution [lady emily ponsonby] the professor's lady [berthold auerbach] rachel's secret [eliza tabor (stephenson)] raymond's heroine [isabella harwood (aka ross neil)] recollections of eton. [charles frederick johnstone] the regent's daughter [dumas] st. olave's [eliza tabor stephenson] tales from the german [_full title_: tales from the german, comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors] tom brown (both titles) [arthur hughes] the true history of a little ragamuffin [james greenwood] the tutor's ward [felicia skene] which is the heroine? [lady mary duffus hardy] the white slave [charles frederick henningsen] [_full title_: the white slave; or, the russian peasant girl] wyoming [caleb e. wright] [_full title_: wyoming, a tale] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * errors and inconsistencies noted by transcriber: . the wayside cross. by e. h. milman _apparent error for e. a. (edward augustus)_ . brownlows. by mrs. oliphant ... _price given as printed (thirty-eight cents)_ de mille's ... the cryptogram ... vo, cloth, $ ; paper, $ . _semicolon after "cloth" missing_ charles reade's ... put yourself in his place ... cents; _text has colon for semicolon_ james's ... henry masterdon _error for henry masterton_ oliphant's ... chronicles of carlingford _title listed separately, but apparently the same mrs. oliphant_ at http://www.ebookforge.net +------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected in | | this text. for a complete list, please see the bottom of | | this document. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ the booklover and his books [illustration: from the _digestum novum_ of justinian, printed at venice by jenson in . the type page of which this is a reduction measures - / by - / inches. the initials in the original have been filled in by hand in red and blue. _from the copy in the library of brown university_] the booklover and his books by harry lyman koopman, litt.d. librarian of brown university boston the boston book company _copyright, ,_ by the boston book company the university press, cambridge, u. s. a. to the authors and their printers who have given us the books that we love prefatory note the following chapters were written during a series of years as one aspect after another of the book engaged the writer's attention. as they are now brought together, the result is not a systematic treatise, but rather a succession of views of one many-sided subject. in consequence there is considerable overlapping. the writer hopes, however, that this will be looked upon not as vain repetition but as a legitimate reinforcement of his underlying theme, the unity in diversity of the book and the federation of all who have to do with it. he therefore offers the present volume not so much for continuous reading as for reading by chapters. he trusts that for those who may consult it in connection with systematic study a sufficient clue to whatever it may contain on any given topic will be found in the index. most of these chapters appeared as papers in "the printing art"; two were published in "the graphic arts," and some in other magazines. the writer expresses his thanks to the proprietors of these periodicals for the permission to republish the articles in their present collective form. all the papers have been revised to some extent. they were originally written in rare moments of leisure scattered through the busy hours of a librarian. their writing was a source of pleasure, and their first publication brought him many delightful associations. as they are presented in their new attire to another group of readers, their author can wish for them no better fortune than to meet--possibly to make--booklovers. brown university library, commencement day, table of contents books and booklovers fitness in book design print as an interpreter of meaning favorite book sizes the value of reading the book of to-day and the book of to-morrow a constructive critic of the book books as a librarian would like them the book beautiful the reader's high privilege the background of the book the chinese book thick paper and thin the clothing of a book parchment bindings lest we forget the few great books printing problems for science to solve types and eyes: the problem types and eyes: progress exceptions to the rule of legibility the student and the library orthographic reform the perversities of type a secret of personal power index the booklover and his books the booklover and his books books and booklovers[ ] the booklover is distinguished from the reader as such by loving his books, and from the collector as such by reading them. he prizes not only the soul of the book, but also its body, which he would make a house beautiful, meet for the indwelling of the spirit given by its author. love is not too strong a word to apply to his regard, which demands, in the language of dorothy wordsworth, "a beautiful book, a book to caress--peculiar, distinctive, individual: a book that hath first caught your eye and then pleased your fancy." the truth is that the book on its physical side is a highly organized art object. not in vain has it transmitted the thought and passion of the ages; it has taken toll of them, and in the hands of its worthiest makers these elements have worked themselves out into its material body. enshrining the artist's thought, it has, therefore, the qualities of a true art product, and stands second only to those which express it, such as painting and sculpture; but no other art product of its own order, not the violin nor the jewel-casket, can compare with the book in esthetic quality. it meets one of the highest tests of art, for it can appeal to the senses of both beauty and grandeur, either separately, as in the work of aldus and of sweynheym and pannartz, or together, as in that of jenson. books have doubtless had their lovers in all ages, under all their forms. even the assyrian clay tablet, if stamped with the words of poet or sage, might have shared the affection which they inspired. so might the papyrus roll of the egyptian, and so does even to-day the parchment book of the middle ages, whenever its fortunate owner has the soul of a booklover. from this book our own was derived, yet not without a break. for our book is not so much a copy of the roman and medieval book as a "substitute" for it, a machine product made originally to sell at a large profit for the price of hand-work. it was fortunate for the early printed book that it stood in this intimate if not honored relation to the work of the scribes and illuminators, and fortunate for the book of to-day, since, with all its lapses, it cannot escape its heritage of those high standards. mr. john cotton dana has analyzed the book into forty elements; a minuter analysis might increase the number to sixty; but of either number the most are subsidiary, a few controlling. the latter are those of which each, if decided upon first, determines the character of the rest; they include size, paper, and type. the mention of any size, folio, quarto, octavo, twelvemo, sixteenmo, calls up at once a distinct mental picture of an ideal book for each dimension, and the series is marked by a decreasing thickness of paper and size of type as it progresses downward from the folio. the proportions of the page will also vary, as well as the surface of the paper and the cut of the type, the other elements conforming to that first chosen. next to size, paper determines the expression of a book. it is the printing material par excellence; but for its production the art could never have flourished. it is as much preferred by the printer as parchment was by the scribe. its three elements of body, surface, and tint must all be considered, and either body or surface may determine the size of the book or the character of the type. a smooth surface may be an element of beauty, as with the paper employed by baskerville, but it must not be a shiny surface. the great desideratum in modern paper from the point of view of the book-buyer is a paper that, while opaque and tough, shall be thin enough to give us our books in small compass, one more akin to the dainty and precious vellum than to the heavier and coarser parchment. it should also be durable. type gives its name to the art and is the instrument by which the spoken word is made visible to the eye. the aims in its design should be legibility, beauty, and compactness, in this order; but these are more or less conflicting qualities, and it is doubtful if any one design can surpass in all. modern type is cleaner-cut than the old, but it may be questioned whether this is a real gain. william morris held that all types should avoid hair-lines, fussiness, and ugliness. legibility should have the right of way for most printed matter, especially children's books and newspapers. if the latter desire compactness, they should condense their style, not their types. a further important element, which affects both the legibility and the durability of the book, is the ink. for most purposes it should be a rich black. some of the print of the early masters is now brown, and there have been fashions of gray printing, but the booklover demands black ink, except in ornaments, and there color, if it is to win his favor, must be used sparingly and with great skill. we are told that the best combination for the eye is ink of a bluish tint on buff-tinted paper; but, like much other good advice, this remains practically untried. illustrations have been a feature of the book for over four hundred years, but they have hardly yet become naturalized within its pages. or shall we say that they soon forgot their proper subordination to the type and have since kept up a more or less open revolt? the law of fitness demands that whatever is introduced into the book in connection with type shall harmonize with the relatively heavy lines of type. this the early black-line engravings did. but the results of all other processes, from copper-plate to half-tone, conflict with the type-picture and should be placed where they are not seen with it. photogravures, for instance, may be put at the end of the book, or they may be covered with a piece of opaque tissue paper, so that either their page or the facing type-page will be seen alone. we cannot do without illustrations. all mankind love a picture as they love a lover. but let the pictures belong to the book and not merely be thrust into it. the binding is to the book what the book is to its subject-matter, a clothing and protection. in the middle ages, when books were so few as to be a distinction, they were displayed sidewise, not edgewise, on the shelves, and their covers were often richly decorated, sometimes with costly gems. even the wooden cover of the pre-columbian mexican book had gems set in its corners. modern ornamentation is confined to tooling, blind and gilt, and inlaying. but some booklovers question whether any decoration really adds to the beauty of the finest leather. it should be remembered that the binding is not all on the outside. the visible cover is only the jacket of the real cover on which the integrity of the book depends. the sewing is the first element in time and importance. to be well bound a book should lie open well, otherwise it is bound not for the reader but only for the collector. it cannot be too often repeated that properly made books are not extremely costly. a modern book offered at a fancy price means either a very small edition, an extravagant binding, or what is more likely, a gullible public. but most books that appeal to the booklover are not excessive in price. never before was so much money spent in making books attractive--for the publisher always has half an eye on the booklover--and while much of this money is wasted, not all is laid out in vain. our age is producing its quota of good books, and these the booklover makes it his business to discover. in order to appreciate, the booklover must first know. he must be a book-kenner, a critic, but one who is looking for excellencies rather than faults, and this knowledge there are many books to teach him. but there is no guide that can impart the love of books; he must learn to love them as one learns to love sunsets, mountains, and the ocean, by seeing them. so let him who would know the joys and rewards of the booklover associate with well-made books. let him begin with the ancients of printing, the great germans, italians, dutchmen. he can still buy their books if he is well-to-do, or see them in libraries and museums if he belongs to the majority. working down to the moderns, he will find himself discriminating and rejecting, but he will be attracted by certain printers and certain periods in the last four hundred years, and he will be rejoiced to find that the last thirty years, though following a decline, hold their own--not by their mean but by their best--with any former period short of the great first half-century, - . finally, if his book-love develops the missionary spirit in him, let him lend his support to the printers and publishers of to-day who are producing books worthy of the booklover's regard, for in no other way can he so effectually speed the day when all books shall justify the emotion which more than five hundred years ago richard de bury, bishop of durham, expressed in the title of his famous and still cherished work, the _philobiblon_. fitness in book design "a woman's fitness comes by fits," said slanderous cloten; but to say as much of fitness in book design would be on the whole a compliment. fitness as applied to book design means, of course, that the material form of the book shall correspond to its spiritual substance, shall be no finer and no meaner, and shall produce a like, even if a slighter, esthetic impression. at the outset we have to surrender to commercialism more than half our territory. all agree that our kings should be clothed in purple and our commoners in broadcloth; but how about the intellectual riffraff that makes up the majority of our books? are our publishers willing that these should be clothed according to their station? hardly; for then would much of their own occupation be gone. it is recognized that for a large proportion of our publications the design--the outward appearance--is in great measure counted on to sell the book; and printers and publishers will not consent to send the paupers of literature forth upon the world in their native rags, for so they would find no one to welcome them. it will be useless to quarrel with the fact that the design of many books is meant as a bait and not as a simple interpretation of their meaning and worth. design of this character, however, is relatively easy; it is really not design at all, but millinery. it is when his work becomes genuinely interpretative that the designer's difficulties begin. the first business of the designer, therefore, is to understand the book he is treating. here, of course, his judgment, however sincere, may be mistaken or misled. a classical instance of this is found in connection with one of the most famous books in the history of modern printing,--barlow's "columbiad." this work, which first appeared in under a different title, was enlarged to epic proportions during the next twenty years, and was finally given to the world in in the belief on the part of its author and in the hope at least on the part of its publisher that it would take rank and be honored for all time as the great american epic. under this misconception the book was clothed in a form that might worthily have enshrined "paradise lost." its stately quarto pages were set in a type specially designed for the work and taking from it the name of columbian. the volume was embellished with full-page engravings after paintings in the heroic manner by smirke; in short, it was the most pretentious book issued in america up to that time, and it still ranks, in the words of professor barrett wendell, "among the most impressive books to look at in the world." but alas for the vanity of human aspirations! "the columbiad" is now remembered as a contribution to typography rather than literature. the designer overshot his author. we have tacitly assumed that a book has but one interpretation and therefore but one most appropriate design. this, however, is far from the truth. when, after various more or less successful editions of irving's "knickerbocker" had appeared, mr. updike brought out some twenty years ago his comic edition, with the whole make-up of the book expressive of the clumsy and stupid dutchmen depicted in irving's mock-heroic, we felt at the moment that here was the one ideal "knickerbocker." yet, much as we still admire it, does it wholly satisfy us? is there not as much room as ever for an edition that shall express primarily not the absurdity of its subject-matter, but the delicate playfulness of irving's humor and the lightness and grace of his exuberant style? has there ever been a final "don quixote"? certainly not in the recent monumental editions with their quagmire of footnotes. moreover, if _we_ had a final edition of the great romance it would not remain final for our children's children. every age will make its own interpretations of the classics and will demand that they be embodied in contemporary design. thus every age in its book design mirrors itself for future admiration or contempt. obviously, in giving form to a single work a designer is freer than in handling a series by one or by various authors. in such cases he must seize upon more general and therefore less salient characteristics. the designer of "hiawatha" or "evangeline" has a fairly clear task before him, with a chance of distinct success or failure; but the designer of an appropriate form for the whole series of longfellow's works, both prose and poetry, has a less individualized problem, and must think of the elements that run through all,--sweetness, grace, gentleness, dignity, learning. yet, though general, these qualities in a series may be far from vague. we have only to consider the absurdity of a handy-volume gibbon or a folio lamb. on looking at the bulky, large-type, black-covered volumes of the forman edition of shelley and keats one instinctively asks, "what crime did these poets commit that they should be so impounded?" the original edition of the life of tennyson by his son, in two lumbering, royal octavo volumes, comes near to what thackeray called the farnese hercules, "a hulking abortion." contrast with it the dignity linked with charm of the original edition of longfellow's life by his brother. but of all monstrosities of book design the british three-volume novel mania is responsible for some of the worst. henry ward beecher's one novel, "norwood," which appeared in america becomingly clad in a single volume, received in england the regulation three-volume dress, in which it looks as ridiculously inflated as did a slender miss of that period in the crinoline then in vogue. there is one abomination in book design for which i owe a personal grudge to commercialism, and that is the dropsical book form given to locker-lampson's "my confidences." if ever there was a winsome bit of writing it is this, and it should have made a book to take to one's heart, something not larger than a "golden treasury" volume, but of individual design. my comfort is that this will yet be done, and my belief is that art will justify itself better in the market than commercialism did. a more modern instance of expansion for commercial reasons defeating fitness in design is furnished by waters' translation of "the journal of montaigne's travels." here we have three small volumes outwardly attractive, but printed on paper thick enough for catalogue cards, and therefore too stiff for the binding, also in type too large to be pleasant. the whole should have been issued in one volume of the same size in smaller type, and would then have been as delightful in form as it is in substance. it is not enough that all the elements of a book be honest, sincere, enduring; otherwise the clumsy royal octavos of leslie stephen's edition of fielding would be as attractive as "the dear and dumpy twelves" of the original editions. royal octavo, indeed, seems to be the pitfall of the book designer, though there is no inherent objection to it. where in the whole range of reference books will be found a more attractive set of volumes than moulton's "library of literary criticism," with their realization in this format of the horatian _simplex munditiis_? for extremely different treatments of this book size it is instructive to compare the slender volumes of the original editions of ruskin with the slightly shorter but very much thicker volumes of the scholarly definitive edition, which is a monument of excellence in every element of book design except the crowning one of fitness. our libraries must have this edition for its completeness and its editorship; its material excellence will insure the transmission of ruskin's message to future centuries; but no one will ever fall in love with these volumes or think of likening them to the marriage of "perfect music unto noble words." granted that the designer knows the tools of his trade,--grasps the expressional value of every element with which he has to deal, from the cut of a type to the surface of a binder's cloth,--his task, as we said, is first to know the soul of the book intrusted to him for embodiment; it is next to decide upon its most characteristic quality, or the sum of its qualities; and, lastly, it is so to use his physical elements as to give to the completed book an expression that shall be the outward manifestation of its indwelling spirit. this is all that can be asked of him; but, if he would add a touch of perfection, let him convey the subtle tribute of a sense of the value of his subject by reflecting in his design the artist's joy in his work. print as an interpreter of meaning the invention of printing, we have often been told, added to book production only the two commercial elements of speed and cheapness. as regards the book itself, we are assured, printing not only added nothing, but, during the four and a half centuries of its development, has constantly tended to take away. these statements are no doubt historically and theoretically true, yet they are so unjust to the present-day art that some supplementary statement of our obligations to printing seems called for, aside from the obvious rejoinder that, even if speed and cheapness are commercial qualities, they have reached a development--especially in the newspaper--beyond the dreams of the most imaginative fifteenth-century inventor, and have done nothing less than revolutionize the world. taking the service of printing as it stands to-day, what does it actually do for the reader? what is the great difference between the printed word and even the best handwriting? it is obviously the condensation and the absolute mechanical sameness of print. the advantage of these differences to the eye in respect to rapid reading is hardly to be overestimated. let any one take a specimen of average penmanship and note the time which he consumes in reading it; let him compare with this the time occupied in reading the same number of printed words, and the difference will be startling; but not even so will it do justice to print, for handwriting average in quality is very far from average in frequency. if it be urged that the twentieth-century comparison should be between typewriting and print, we may reply that typewriting _is_ print, though it lacks most of its condensation, and that the credit for its superior legibility belongs to typography, of which the new art is obviously a by-product. but we are not yet out of the manuscript period, so far as private records are concerned, and it still is true, as it has been for many generations, that print multiplies the years of every scholar's and reader's life. at this point we may even introduce a claim for print as a contributor to literature. there are certainly many books of high literary standing that never would have attained their present form without the intervention of type. it is well known that carlyle rewrote his books in proof, so that the printer, instead of attempting to correct his galleys, reset them outright. balzac went a step further, and largely wrote his novels in proof, if such an expression may be allowed. he so altered and expanded them that what went to the printing office as copy for a novelette finally came out of it a full-sized novel. even where the changes are not so extensive, as in the proof-sheets of the waverley novels preserved in the cornell university library, it is interesting to trace the alterations which the author was prompted to make by the sight of his paragraphs clothed in the startling distinctness of print. nor is this at all surprising when one considers how much better the eye can take in the thought and style of a composition from the printed page than it can even from typewriting. the advantage is so marked that some publishers, before starting on an expensive literary venture, are accustomed to have the copy set up on the linotype for the benefit of their critics. if the work is accepted, the revisions are made on these sheets, and then, finally, the work is sent back to the composing room to receive the more elaborate typographic dress in which it is to appear. but to return to the advantages of type to the reader. handwriting can make distinctions, such as punctuation and paragraphing, but print can greatly enforce them. the meaning of no written page leaps out to the eye; but this is the regular experience of the reader with every well-printed page. while printing can do nothing on a single page that is beyond the power of a skillful penman, its ordinary resources are the extraordinary ones of manuscript. it might not be physically impossible, for instance, to duplicate with a pen a page of the century dictionary, but it would be practically impossible, and, if the pen were our only resource, we never should have such a marvel of condensation and distinctness as that triumph of typography in the service of scholarship. in ordinary text, printing has grown away from the distinctions to the eye that were in vogue two hundred years ago--a gain to art and perhaps to legibility also, though contemporary critics like franklin lamented the change--but in reference books we have attained to a finer skill in making distinctions to the eye than our forefathers achieved with all their typographic struggles. nor are our reference pages lacking in beauty. but our familiarity with works of this class tends to obscure their wonderful merit as time-savers and eye-savers. it is only when we take up some foreign dictionary, printed with little contrast of type, perhaps in german text, and bristling with unmeaning abbreviations, that we appreciate our privilege. surely this is a marvelous mechanical triumph, to present the words of an author in such a form that the eye, to take it in, needs but to sweep rapidly down the page, or, if it merely glances at the page, it shall have the meaning of the whole so focused in a few leading words that it can turn at once to the passage sought, or see that it must look elsewhere. the saving of time so effected may be interpreted either as a lengthening of life or as an increased fullness of life, but it means also a lessening of friction and thus an addition to human comfort. we have been speaking of prose; but print has done as much or more to interpret the meaning of poetry. we have before us a facsimile of nineteen lines from the oldest vatican manuscript of vergil. the hexameters are written in single lines; but this is the only help to the eye. the letters are capitals and are individually very beautiful, indeed, the lines are like ribbons of rich decoration; but the words are not separated, and the punctuation is inconspicuous and primitively simple, consisting merely of faint dots. modern poetry, especially lyric, with its wealth and interplay of rhyme, affords a fine opportunity for the printer to mediate between the poet and his public, and this he has been able to do by mere indention and leading, without resorting to distinction of type. the reader of a sonnet or ballad printed without these two aids to the eye is robbed of his rightful clues to the construction of the verse. it seems hardly possible that a poem could have been read aloud from an ancient manuscript, at sight, with proper inflection; yet this is just what printing can make possible for the modern reader. it has not usually done so, for the printer has been very conservative; he has taken his conception of a page from prose, and, not being compelled to, has not placed all the resources of his art at the service of the poet. accents, pauses, and certain arbitrary signs might well be employed to indicate to the reader the way the poet meant his line to be read. milton curiously gave us some metric hints by means of changes in spelling, but we have to read all our other poets in the light of our own discernment, and it is not to be wondered at if doctors disagree. even the caesura, or pause in the course of a long line, is not always easy to place. francis thompson, in his poem "a judgement in heaven," has indicated this by an asterisk, giving an example that might well be followed by other poets and their printers. the regularity of eighteenth-century verse made little call for guide-posts, but modern free meter, in proportion to its greater flexibility and richness, demands more assistance to the reader's eye, or even to his understanding. for instance, to read aloud hexameters or other long lines, some of which have the initial accent on the first syllable and some later, is quite impossible without previous study supplemented by a marking of the page. yet a few printed accents would make a false start impossible. poetry will never require the elaborate aid from the printer which he gives to music; but it seems clear that he has not yet done for it all that he might or should. it is surely not an extreme assumption that the first duty of the printer is to the meaning of his author, and his second to esthetics; but shall we not rather say that his duty is to meet both demands, not by a compromise, but by a complete satisfaction of each? a difficult requirement, surely, but one that we are confident the twentieth-century printer will not permit his critics to pronounce impossible. favorite book sizes in the following paper some account will be given of five book sizes that have taken rank as favorites. it should excite no surprise that all are small sizes. nature's favorites are always small; her insect jewels outnumber her vertebrates a millionfold; and book-loving human nature takes the same delight in daintiness. there is, to be sure, a general impression that the first centuries of printing were given up to folios, the eighteenth century to quartos and octavos, and that only the present period has been characterized by twelvemos and sixteenmos. we think of the gutenberg bible, the nuremberg chronicle, the mighty editions of the fathers, the polyglot bibles of paris, london, and antwerp,--fairly to be called limp teachers' bibles,--the bible, the shakespeare folios; then of the quarto editions of addison, pope, walpole, and their contemporaries, and the stately octavo editions of the same writers; and finally of the myriad _infra_ that have swarmed from the press during the last century. but, when we walk through a library that offers a representative collection of books from the invention of printing to the present, we realize that the bigness of the folios and quartos has deceived us as to their relative number, all forms of literature being considered. the parent of our present book form, the roman codex, split from an actual block of wood, had a surface hardly as large as the cover of a little classic. the vellum books of hours were dainty volumes. even in the period between gutenberg and aldus, books of moderate size were not uncommon, and continuously, from the days of the great venetian popularizer of literature to the present, the small books have far outnumbered their heavy-armed allies. common sense, indeed, would tell us that this must be so, even if it had not inspired dr. johnson, its eighteenth century exponent, to declare: "books that you may carry to the fire, and hold readily in your hand, are the most useful after all." our account properly begins with aldus. from , the date of his first productions, until he printed his books in folio and quarto. but in the first year of the new century he began to use his famous cursive type, now called italic. the fineness of the new type, as has been suggested, called for a smaller size of book, which was also favored by considerations of economy and convenience; and so aldus made up his sheets in a form which the fold compels us to call octavo, but which to-day would be called sixteenmo. says horatio f. brown, in his "the venetian printing press": "the public welcomed the new type and size. the college granted aldus a monopoly for ten years for all books printed in this manner. the price of books was lowered at once. didot calculates that an octavo of aldus cost, on an average, two francs and a half, whereas a folio probably cost about twenty francs. these two innovations on type and on format constituted a veritable revolution in the printing press and in the book trade, which now began to reach a far more extensive market than it had ever touched before. with this wide diffusion of books came the popularization of knowledge at which aldus aimed. scholarship began to lose its exclusive and aristocratic character when the classics were placed within the reach of any student who chose to study, meditate, and interpret them for himself. and to aldus belongs the credit of having, through his new type and size, opened the way to the democratization of learning." that the taste which aldus so successfully hit was no merely temporary one, any person will be convinced if he will stand before a shelf full of these little aldus classics, handle the light, well-proportioned volumes, and take in the esthetic charm of their type and page and form, which, in spite of their four hundred years, by no means savors of antiquity. in these books aldus achieved one of the greatest triumphs possible in any art, a union of beauty and utility, each on so high a plane that no one is able to decide which is pre-eminent. in a copy which i have before me of his "rhetoricorum ad c. herennium libri iiii," , the fine proportions of the page appear in spite of trimming. very noticeable are the undersized roman capitals; more curious is the letter printed in the otherwise blank square to indicate what initial the illuminator should insert in color, and the irregular use of capitals and small letters after a period. the catchword appears only on the last page of the signature, not on every page, as was the later practice. modern usage wisely consigns italic to a subordinate place, but in point of beauty combined with convenience, it may well be questioned if four centuries of printing have made any advance upon this page. in nearly every library for scholars is to be found a row of plump little books that never fail to catch the eye of the sightseer. if the visitor does not know beforehand what they are, he is little enlightened on being told that they are "elzevirs," and the attendant must needs supply the information that the elzevirs were a family of dutch printers who flourished during the century that closed with the arrival of william iii in england, and that these tiny volumes represent their most popular productions. says george haven putnam in his "books and their makers during the middle ages": "the elzevirs, following the example set a century and a half earlier by aldus, but since that time very generally lost sight of by the later publishers, initiated a number of series of books in small and convenient forms, twelvemo and sixteenmo, which were offered to book buyers at prices considerably lower than those they had been in the habit of paying for similar material printed in folio, quarto, or octavo.... these well-edited, carefully printed, and low-priced editions of the classics won for the elzevirs the cordial appreciation of scholars and of students throughout europe." among the authors who acknowledged their indebtedness to the elzevirs may be mentioned galileo, the elder balzac, and the poet ménage. i have before me more than six feet of shelving filled with these tiny books. they are nearly all bound in vellum, and thus retain their antique appearance without as well as within. their subject-matter is in the fields of literature, ancient and contemporary, and the history, geography, and political constitution of the principal countries. the books of the latter division are known as "respublicæ variæ." it is impossible to resist the conclusion that this book form was chosen not more to supply cheap books which could be sold to impecunious scholars than to provide portable volumes for travelers. the elzevir "commonwealths" were the predecessors of our "satchel guides," and the literary publications in this form were evidently designed to be pocket editions. it was to such books that dr. johnson referred when he advised his friends "never to go out without some little book or other in their pocket. much time is lost by waiting, by travelling, etc., and this may be prevented by making use of every possible opportunity for improvement." when the positive doctor, on his journey to the hebrides, paid his tribute to george buchanan at st. andrews, his acquaintance with the latin poetry of the scotch professor may well have arisen from his having thus made a pocket piece of one of the several elzevir editions of the poet. the characteristics of the "elzevirs" are that they range from about four to about five inches in height, are always narrow, - / to - / inches in width, and are usually thick, in some cases even - / inches. it is hardly necessary to say that the esthetic impression of these "jewels of typography" is wholly different from that produced by the "alduses." it is the beauty of an infant compared with that of a youth, and, as in the case of the infant, plumpness is a part of the charm. the thinnest of the "elzevirs" (about three-fourths of an inch thick) lack much of the characteristic quality. it is of course granted that no small portion of the charm exerted by these volumes is due to their type, which in artistic excellence and practical effectiveness has hardly been surpassed before or since. when william pickering, in , began to issue his aldine edition of the british poets in the most beautiful and appropriate form that he could devise, the design which he placed upon the title-page, a dolphin and an anchor, with the words "aldi discip. anglus," was an expression at once of pride and of obligation. he had gone back to aldus for his model, and the book which he produced was in all but its change of type from italic to roman a nearly exact reproduction of the form which aldus had employed so successfully three centuries before. even the relative thinness of the volumes was preserved as an important element of their attractiveness to eye and hand. whoever would learn what an enormous difference in esthetic effect can be produced by slight differences in style and size, especially in thickness, should compare the pickering "aldines" with the rival set of british poets published by little and brown. the latter series is a noble one, often showing better presswork than pickering's, and it was deservedly popular, but it is many degrees removed from the totality of esthetic charm that would entitle it to rank as a favorite. we said that pickering went back to aldus for his model, but he did not travel a lonely road. the book size in question had never ceased to be used, and in the eighteenth century it was in full favor. the writings of the novelists and essayists found ready buyers in this form, as witness, among others, the strahan fielding of , the rivington idler of the same year, and the rivington sterne of . the size of the printed page is usually larger, but that of the sterne corresponds as closely to that of the two "aldines" as the difference in the size of type will permit. pickering's contemporaries and successors in the publishing field recognized the attractiveness of this book size, and the works of the poets generally were issued in this form; hence we have, for example, the longman southey, the moxon wordsworth, and the murray crabbe. the latest series to appeal for popular favor by the use of this book form is everyman's library, in which, though much has been sacrificed to cheapness, the outward proportions of the volumes are almost identical with those adopted by aldus and pickering. go, little book, whose pages hold those garnered years in loving trust; how long before your blue and gold shall fade and whiten in the dust? this stanza from dr. holmes's introduction to his "poems" of may well be claimed by the blue and gold edition of the poets as its passport to the recognition of future generations. but it will need no passport; its own enduring charm is sufficient. the volumes of this dainty series, while larger in all but thickness than the "elzevirs," yet make their appeal by much the same qualities, compactness and portability, with a suggestion of the elzevirian plumpness. to the attraction of the size is added the contrasted charm of the blue cover and the gilt stamp and edges. that a blue and gold edition, in the absence of its name qualities, becomes something far inferior may be seen from a copy that has lost them in rebinding. in spite of the hardness of their blue and the crudeness of their stamped designs, these little volumes attract every reader and never remain long on the shelves of the second-hand bookstores. we should not expect a publisher to succeed were he now to put them upon the market for the first time or in an exact reproduction. but the publisher who shall so recombine their elements as to produce upon his public the effect which they made upon theirs, and which they still make as reminiscent of an earlier taste, will be the envy of his fellows. it is interesting to note that after fifty years these volumes show no sign of fading, so that dr. holmes might well have made his stanza an exclamation instead of a question. they seem likely to last as long as the "elzevirs" or even the "alduses" have already lasted, and possibly to outlast the fame, though hardly the memory, of the poet who sang them. the dimensions of the cover are - / by - / inches; the thickness is about an inch. there was a larger blue and gold format, as well as several smaller, but only the standard is now valued. we cannot bring our list of favorite book sizes much nearer the present without running the risk of confusing the temporary and the permanent in popular approval. we will, therefore, close with a mention of the little classics. at about the time when the blue and gold series ceased to be published, more exactly in , mr. rossiter johnson designed for the now famous series which he was then editing a book form that sprang at once into a favor that it still retains. in this form, which appears to have no near counterpart in either earlier or later bookmaking, the volumes are closely six by four inches by three-quarters of an inch in thickness. the edges are colored red, whatever the color of the sides. the printed page is relatively wide, and the whole effect of the book is that of a tiny quarto, though in reality the dimensions are those of a rather small sixteenmo of normal proportions. thus the volume produces upon the eye the charm of daintiness, while the page contains a sufficient amount of matter to make the volume profitable to the purchaser. this series naturally suggests comparison with the tauchnitz editions, which consist of volumes only slightly larger. but really no comparison is possible. the tauchnitz editions are merely convenient carriers of letterpress. the little classics are a genuine art product. that the latter book size has not been more widely used than it has, by its own and by other publishers, is perhaps due to commercial reasons. but there can be no question of the esthetic appeal which it makes upon the reader who is looking for compactness and beauty rather than for the greatest bulk for his money. with the modern demand for the saving of space in private libraries we may reasonably look for a revival of this condensed and charming book size. the adoption of a few standard sizes for all books was urged some years ago at a meeting of american librarians. commenting on this proposal, a new york publisher remarked that he should be glad to have such standard sizes adopted by others, but he should take pains to avoid them in his own publications in order to gain the distinction of difference. the discussion stopped suddenly under the impact of this unexpected assault. but a second thought shows that the publisher's comment leaves the question still open. it is obvious that if we were to adopt standard sizes based upon nothing more fundamental than the librarian's desire for uniformity or the printer's mechanical convenience, without regard to the tastes and preferences of the reader, who is the final judge, the publisher might well find his gain in disregarding them. but if the standards adopted all represented sizes long tested and approved by popular favor, the publisher who should avoid them would display a confidence in the spirit of the perverse as sublime as it would be hazardous. fortunately no formal standardization of book sizes is likely to be attempted. but, keenly as a publisher would resent any limitation upon his freedom in book design, he is just as keenly desirous that his books shall be favorites. to attain his coveted end he has two resources, experience and experiment, or a mixture of both. while the book sizes that have been discussed in this chapter do not include all the favorites, they certainly include some of the first favorites, and are worthy of study by everyone who is seeking public favor in the design of that complex art product known as a book. the value of reading, to the public and to the individual of what value is it to a community to contain--still more to be composed of--well-read people? we can best answer this question by picturing its opposite, a community without readers; this we are unfortunately able to do without drawing upon our imaginations, for we have only to turn to certain districts of countries like spain or russia. there we shall meet whole communities, large enough to form cities elsewhere, which are little more than aggregations of paupers. shall we find in any of these homes a daily or a weekly paper, or a monthly magazine, or even a stray book? not one, except perhaps in the house of a priest. these masses of people live on the earth, to be sure, but they do not live in the world. no currents of the great, splendid life of the twentieth century ever reach them; and they live in equal isolation from the life of the past. "the glory that was greece and the grandeur that was rome" have for them simply no existence. they are truly the disinherited of all the ages. though they may not be unhappy, they can be called nothing less than wretched. is the fault one of race, or government, or religion? much could be said on all these points, both for and against; but one fact remains indisputable--these people do not read. let us turn now to a different type of community, that represented by the ordinary new england village. how stands the cause of reading there? if there is any person of sound mind in the community who has never learned to read, he is pointed out as a curiosity. there is not a home in the length and breadth of the town that is without its paper, its magazine, or its books. in other words, literacy is taken for granted. is it any wonder that in progress, wealth, and influence the one community starts where the other leaves off? in the illiterate towns just described there is often no man who has the slightest capacity for business or who can represent the interests of his community before even the humblest government official. but from towns of the other type come men who represent with honor their state and their nation; men who widen the bounds of freedom and who add new stars to the celestial sphere of knowledge. is all this wholly a matter of reading? one would not dare to assert it absolutely, remembering the advantages of race, government, and religion enjoyed in new england. and yet we have only to fancy the condition of even such a town after one generation, supposing all its printed matter and its power to read were taken away, if we would realize what an impulse to progress and prosperity is given by the presence of the volumes that line the shelves of our public libraries. if the fortunes of a community in the modern world are bound up with the use that it makes of books and libraries, no less are those of the individual. this is true whether we refer to his private satisfaction or to his public advancement. the animal is endowed with instinct, which is sufficient for the guidance of his life, but it permits of no development. man must depend upon judgment, experience, reason--guides that are often only too blind; but at least they admit of progress. in fact it is only in the field of knowledge that human progress appears to be possible. we have no better bodies than the ancient greeks had--to put the case very mildly. we have no better minds than they had--to make an even safer assertion. but we _know_ almost infinitely more than they did. in this respect the ancient greeks were but as children compared with ourselves. what makes this tremendous difference? simply the fact that we know all that was known by them and the romans and the men of the middle ages, and through this knowledge we have learned more by our own discovery than they knew, all put together. the path to success for men and races lies through the storehouse where this vast knowledge is garnered--the library. but it is something more than a storehouse of knowledge; it is an electrical battery of power. this knowledge, this power, can be obtained in its fullness only through books. the man, therefore, who aspires to lead his fellows, to command their respect or their votes, must not rely on native talent alone; he must add to it the stored-up talent of the ages. there is an old proverb: "no man ever got rich with his coat off." this is a puzzling assertion, for it seems to contradict so many accepted ideas. general grant, for instance, when asked for his coat-of-arms, replied: "a pair of shirt sleeves." the answer showed an honorable pride in labor; but we must remember that it was not general grant's arms but his brain that won his victories. does not our proverb mean simply this: that the great prizes of life--of which riches is the symbol, not the sum--cannot be won by main strength and ignorance; that they can be won only by energy making use of knowledge? but it is not only in the public successes of life that books have a value for the individual. public successes are never the greatest that men win. it is in the expansion and uplift of the inner self that books render their grandest service. emily dickinson wrote of such a reader: he ate and drank the precious words, his spirit grew robust; he knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was dust. he danced along the dingy days, and this bequest of wings was but a book. what liberty a loosened spirit brings! a final word on values. the philosophers make two great classes of values, which may be entitled respectively property and possessions. under property come money, houses, lands, carriages, clothing, jewels; under possessions come love, friendship, morality, knowledge, culture, refinement. all are good things. there never were any houses or carriages or clothes too good for a human being. but these obviously belong to a different type of values from the other group--to a lower type. what is the test, the touchstone, by which we can tell to which class any value belongs? we shall find the test clearly stated in the sermon on the mount. is the treasure in question one that moth and rust can corrupt or that thieves can break through and steal? if so, it belongs to the lower class, to property. but if it is one that cannot be taken away, then it is a possession and belongs to the higher type. there is another test, which is really a part of this: can you share it without loss? if i own a farm, and give to another a half of it or a year's crop from it, i deprive myself of just so much. but, if i have knowledge or taste or judgment or affection, i can pour them all out like water for the benefit of my fellows, and yet never have any the less. on the contrary, i shall find that i have more; for they grow by sharing. but we have not yet done with the superiority of possessions over property. "shrouds have no pockets," says the grim old proverb; and all property must be laid down at the edge of the grave. but if man be immortal, as the wise in all ages have believed, then we do not have to lay down our possessions with this mortal body. for, if the soul when freed from the flesh is to remain the soul, the self--and only so can immortality have any meaning--then it must keep all those inner acquisitions of knowledge, culture, and character which it has gathered on earth; nay, it then for the first time truly comes into the enjoyment of them. what were our earthly possessions become treasures laid up for ourselves in heaven. the book of to-day and the book of to-morrow the book of to-day is not necessarily the parent of the book of to-morrow, just as it is itself not necessarily the child of the book of yesterday. the relation is apt to be one of succession and influence rather than anything suggesting biological evolution. nature, according to linnaeus's famous maxim, never goes by leaps, but the book is a human product, and human nature takes its chief pride in its leaps, calling them inventions and discoveries. such a leap in book production was the substitution of parchment for papyrus, of paper for parchment, of mechanical for manual processes when writing was displaced by typography, of higher for lower mechanism in the creation of the power perfecting press. these inventions had behind them, to be sure, the impetus of economic demand, but no such partial explanation can be given for the advent of william morris among the printers of the late nineteenth century, unless an unrecognized artistic need may be said to constitute an economic demand. the book of to-day in its best examples resembles not so much the book of yesterday as that of some earlier days, and we may count this fact a fortunate one, since it relegates to oblivion the books made in certain inartistic periods, notably of the one preceding the present revival. it is rather the best of the whole past of the book, and not the book of to-day alone, that influences the character to be taken by the book of to-morrow. this element is a historical one and a knowledge of it may be acquired by study; it is the possible inventions that baffle our prophecies. we know that any time some new process may be discovered that will transform the book into something as unlike its present character as that is unlike the papyrus roll. but because the element of invention is so uncertain we can only recognize it, we cannot take it into account. our advantage in considering the book of to-day in connection with the book of to-morrow will be chiefly a negative one, in making the book as it is, so far as we find it defective, our point of departure in seeking the book as it ought to be. to-day, for our present purposes, may be taken as beginning with the great work of morris. but its book includes the worst as well as the best. it is not only the book by which we in our jealousy for the reputation of our age should like to have our age remembered, but also the more frequent book that we have to see and handle, however much against our will, and sometimes even to buy. we may congratulate ourselves that this book will perish by its own defects, leaving after all only the best book to be associated with our age; but this does not alter the fact that in the present the undesirable book is too much with us, is vastly in the majority, is, in fact, the only book that the great mass of our contemporaries know. how bad it is most book buyers do not realize; if they did, a better book would speedily take its place. but, until they do, our only chance of relief is the doubtful one of an invention that shall make good books cheaper to make than poor ones, or the difficult one of educating the public in the knowledge of what a book should be. the latter is obviously our only rational hope; but before we turn to consider it, let us first look at the book of to-day to see exactly what it is. the book of to-day is first of all a novel. it has other forms, to be sure,--poetry, essays, history, travels, works of science and art,--but these do not meet the eye of the multitude. we may disregard them for the moment, and, in reply to the question, what is the book of to-day? we may say: it is a one-volume novel, a rather clumsy duodecimo, with a showy cover adorned with a colored picture of the heroine. it is printed on thick paper of poor quality, with type too large for the page, and ugly margins equal all around. its binding is weak, often good for only a dozen readings, though quite as lasting as the paper deserves. for merits it can usually offer clear type, black ink, and good presswork. but its great fault is that in addressing the buyer it appeals to the primitive instinct for bigness rather than to the higher sense that regards quality. such is the book of to-day, emphatically what franklin over a hundred years ago called a "blown" book. but though the novel fills the multitude's field of vision, it is after all not the only contemporary book; there are others from which we may be able to choose one worthier to be the book of to-day than the self-elected novel. but we shall not find it where commercialism is rife. in the presence of that element we find still only an appeal to the many--which, if successful, means large profits--by an appearance of giving much while really giving little. in this game of illusion the sound principles of bookmaking are forsaken. books are not designed on the basis of what they are, but on the basis of what they can be made to seem. the result is puffery, not merely in advertising, but still earlier in the dimensions of the book itself--the most modern and profitable instance of using the east wind for a filler. but at this point a new element is introduced, the public library. the ordinary buyer carries home the distended book, and after he and his family have read it, he cares not if it falls to pieces after the next reading. neither does he care if it takes up thrice the room that it should, for he no longer gives it room. but the public library, under the existing inflationism, must not only pay too much for its popular books; it must also house them at a needless outlay, and must very early duplicate a serious percentage of their first cost in rebinding them. so burdensome has this last item become that our libraries are consenting to pay a slightly larger first cost in order to avoid the necessity of rebinding; and enterprising publishers, following the lead of a more enterprising bookbinder, are beginning to cater to this library demand, which some day, let us hope, may dominate the entire publishing world for all books worth preserving, and may extend to all the elements of the book. but fortunately there is here and there the uncommercial publisher and now and then an uncommercial mood in the ordinary publisher. to these we owe a small but important body of work of which no previous age need have been ashamed. of these books we may almost say that they would be books if there were nothing in them. they have come into being by a happy conjunction of qualified publisher and appreciative buyers. they show what most books may be and what all books will strive to be if ever the majority of book buyers come to know what a good book is. this brings us finally to the book of to-morrow, what we hope it will be and how we can make it so. the book of to-morrow, the book as it ought to be, will be both better and cheaper than the book of to-day. it can afford to be cheaper, for it will have a large and appreciative public, and for the same reason it will have to be better. the question of supreme importance now, if this public is ever to exist, is: how to educate our book buyers. the answer is not easy, for our book buyers do not realize that they are untrained, and, even if they realized it, the task of training them in the knowledge and love of the well-made book would be difficult. but we can do at least three things: agitate--proclaim the existence of a lore to be acquired, an ignorance and its practices to be eschewed; illustrate--show the good book and the bad together, and set forth, point by point, why the good is superior; last and most important, we must vindicate--back up our words by our deeds, support the publisher who gives the world good books, and leave to starvation or reform the publisher who clings to the old unworthy methods of incapacity or fraud. even now, if every enlightened booklover in america would carry out this plan as a matter of duty merely where he could do so without inconvenience, nothing less than a revolution would be upon us, and we should have the book of to-morrow while it is still to-day. a constructive critic of the book at the meeting of the british librarians at cambridge in a bomb was thrown into the camp of the book producers in the form of the question: who spoils our new english books? in the explosion which followed, everybody within range was hit, from "the uncritical consumer" to "the untrained manufacturer." this dangerous question was asked and answered by henry stevens of vermont, who, as a london bookseller, had for nearly forty years handled the products of the press new and old, had numbered among his patrons such critical booklovers as john carter brown and james lenox, and had been honored with the personal friendship of william pickering the publisher and charles whittingham the printer. he had therefore enjoyed abundant opportunity for qualifying himself to know whereof he spoke. if his words were severe, he stood ready to justify them with an exhibit of sixty contemporary books which he set before his hearers.[ ] the truth is, however unwilling his victims may have been to admit it, that his attack was only too well timed. the men of creative power, who had ennobled english book production during the second quarter of the nineteenth century, had passed away, and books were being thrown together instead of being designed as formerly. the tradition of excellence in english bookmaking still held sway over the public, and, as their books sold, most producers saw no reason to disturb themselves. what to them was progress in other lands, or the claims of a future that could not be enforced? but after mr. stevens's attack they could at least no longer plead ignorance of their faults. it is certain that an improvement soon began, which culminated in the present great era of book design throughout the english world. if the famous bookseller's address were not the cause of the change, it at least marked a turning point, and it deserves to be studied as one of the historic documents of modern printing. it is more than this, however; it is a piece of creative criticism, and though teaching not by example but by contraries, it forms one of the best existing brief compends of what a well-made book must be. the critic of books as they were made a generation ago begins with the assertion of a truth that cannot be too often repeated: "the manufacture of a beautiful and durable book costs little if anything more than that of a clumsy and unsightly one." he adds that once a handsome book and a new english book were synonymous terms, but that now the production of really fine books is becoming one of england's lost arts. he indulges in a fling at "the efforts of certain recent printers to retrieve this decadence by throwing on to the already overburdened trade several big, heavy, and voluminous works of standard authors termed 'éditions de luxe.'" he assures his hearers that his judgments were not formed on the spur of the moment, but were based partly on long personal observations--stevens was the author of that widely influential piece of selective bibliography, "my english library," london, --and on the results of the international exhibitions since , especially those of vienna ( ), philadelphia ( ), and paris ( ), in the last of which he was a juror. his conclusion is "that the present new english, scotch, and irish books, of a given size and price, are not of the average quality of high art and skill in manufacture that is found in some other countries." he reminds his hearers that "it is no excuse to say that the rapidity of production has been largely increased. that amounts merely to confessing that we are now consuming two bad books in the place of one good one." mr. stevens now comes to the direct question: who spoils our new english books? he answers it by naming not less than ten parties concerned: ( ) the author, ( ) the publisher, ( ) the printer, ( ) the reader, ( ) the compositor, ( ) the pressman or machinist, ( ) the papermaker, ( ) the ink maker, ( ) the bookbinder, and ( ), last but not least, the consumer. there is no question of honesty or dishonesty, he says, but there is a painful lack of harmony, the bungling work of one or the clumsy manipulation of another often defeating the combined excellence of all the rest. the cure he foresees in the establishment of a school of typography, in which every disciple of these ten tribes shall study a recognized grammar of book manufacture based on the authority of the best examples. he now returns to the charge and pays his respects to each member of the "ten tribes" in turn. the author's offense is found to consist largely of ignorant meddling. the publisher is too often ignorant, fussy, unskilled, pedantic, shiftless, and money-seeking, willing to make books unsightly if their cheapness will sell them. the printer is the scapegoat, and many books are spoiled in spite of his efforts, while he gets all the blame. but he is apt to have faults of his own, the worst of which is a failure in the careful design of the books intrusted to him. "it was not so," says mr. stevens, "with our good old friends william pickering and charles whittingham, publisher and printer, working for many years harmoniously together. it was their custom, as both used repeatedly to tell us, to each first sit upon every new book and painfully hammer out in his own mind its ideal form and proportions. then two sundays at least were required to compare notes in the little summer house in mr. whittingham's garden at chiswick, or in the after-dinner sanctuary, to settle the shape and dress of their forthcoming 'friend of man.' it was amusing as well as instructive to see each of them, when they met, pull from his bulging side pocket well-worn title-pages and sample leaves for discussion and consideration. when they agreed, perfection was at hand, and the 'copy' went forward to the compositors, but not till then. the results, to this day, are seen in all the books bearing the imprint of william pickering, nearly all of which bear also evidence that they came from the 'chiswick press.'" the reader, mr. stevens holds to be, under the printer, the real man of responsibility; but he too is often hampered by want of plan and due knowledge of the proportions of the book that he is handling. he also should go to the school of typography, and the readers of different offices should learn to agree. the compositor is pronounced "a little person of great consequence." his moral responsibility is not great, but too much is often thrust upon him; in fact he is, in many cases, the real maker of the book. "he ought to have a chance at the school of typography, and be better instructed in his own business, and be taught not to assume the business of any other sinner joined with him in the manufacture of books." between the compositor and the pressman is a long road in which many a book is spoiled, but the responsibility is hard to place. few people have any idea what constitute the essentials of a book's form and proportions. yet our old standards, in manuscript and print, demand "that the length of a printed page should have relation to its width, and that the top should not exceed half the bottom margin, and that the front should be double the back margin." the papermaker comes in for a large share of blame, but the remedy lies only in the hands of the consumer, who must insist on receiving good and durable paper. "the ink-maker is a sinner of the first magnitude." the first printing inks are still bright, clean, and beautiful after four hundred years; but who will give any such warrant to even the best inks of the present day? mr. stevens pronounces the sallow inks of our day as offensive to sight as they are to smell. the bookbinder is adjudged equal in mischief to any other of the ten sinners, and the rest are called upon to combine to prevent their books from being spoiled in these last hands. the consumer, after all, is the person most to blame, for he has the power to control all the rest. or, in the critic's closing words: "many of our new books are unnecessarily spoiled, and it matters little whether this or that fault be laid to this or that sinner. the publisher, the printer, or the binder may sometimes, nay, often does, if he can, shift the burden of his sins to the shoulders of his neighbor, but all the faults finally will come back on the consumer if he tolerates this adulteration longer." the great constructive feature of mr. stevens's address, which is one that brings it absolutely up to date, is his call for a school of typography, which shall teach a recognized grammar of book manufacture, especially printing, a grammar as standard as lindley murray's. he believes that the art of bookmaking cannot be held to the practice of the laws of proportion, taste, and workmanship, which were settled once for all in the age of the scribes and the first printers, without the existence and pressure of some recognized authority. such an authority, he holds, would be furnished by a school of typography. this, as we interpret it, would be not necessarily a school for journeymen, but a school for those who are to assume the responsibility too often thrown upon the journeymen, the masters of book production. with a large annual output of books taken up by a public none too deeply versed in the constituents of a well-made book, there would seem to be much hope for printing as an art from the existence of such an institution, which would be critical in the interest of sound construction, and one might well wish that the course in printing recently established at harvard might at some time be associated with the name of its prophet of a generation ago, henry stevens of vermont. books as a librarian would like them the librarian is in a position more than any one else to know the disabilities of books. the author is interested in his fame and his emoluments, the publisher in his reputation and his profits. to each of these parties the sales are the chief test. but the librarian's interest in the book begins after the sale, and it continues through the entire course of the book's natural life. his interest, moreover, is all-round; he is concerned with the book's excellence in all respects, intellectual, esthetic, and physical. he is the one who has to live with it, literally to keep house with it; and his reputation is in a way involved with its character. he may, therefore, be allowed for once to have his say as to how he would like to have books made. if a book is worth writing at all, it is worth writing three times: first to put down the author's ideas, secondly to condense their expression into the smallest possible compass, and thirdly so to arrange them that they shall be most easily taken into the mind, putting them not necessarily into logical order, but into psychological order. if the author will do this and can add the touch of genius, or--shall we say?--can suffuse his work with the quality of genius, then he has made an addition to literature. that, among all the books which the librarian has to care for, he finds so few that he can call additions to literature is one of his grievances. the three processes may, indeed, by a practiced hand be performed as one. the librarian is only anxious that they be performed and that he have the benefit. with the publisher the librarian feels that he can speak still more bluntly than with the author, for it is against the publisher that the librarian cherishes one of his greatest grievances, the necessity of supplying four times the amount of storage room that ought to be required. i have before me two books, one larger than the other in every way and four times as thick. yet the smaller book is printed in larger type, has twice as many words on a page, and has twice as many pages. this is, of course, an exceptional contrast, but a difference of four times between the actual and the possible is by no means unusual. when one considers that in most of our libraries it costs, all told, a dollar to shelve a volume, one realizes that the librarian has against the publisher a grievance that can be put into the language of commerce. if every book is occupying a dollar's worth of space, which ought to accommodate three others, then, gentlemen publishers, in swelling your books to catch the public eye, you have taken from us far more than you put into your own pockets from your sales to us. you have made our book storage four times as costly and unwieldy as it ought to be; but you have done worse than this, you have sold us perishable instead of durable goods. you have cheapened every element of the book--paper, ink, and binding--so that, while we begin the twentieth century with some books on our shelves that are over four hundred years old and some that are less than one, the only books among them that have any chance of seeing the twenty-first century are those that will then be five hundred years old; the books that might have been a century old will then, like their makers, be dust. it seems to the librarian that you, who have taken it upon yourselves to direct the service to be rendered to men by the "art preservative of all arts," have assumed very lightly your responsibility for the future's knowledge of our time. you may and do answer that, as the records begin to perish, the most important of them will be reprinted, and the world will be the better off for the loss of the rest. to this it may be rejoined that you give the distant future no chance to revise the judgments of a rather near future, and that vast quantities of material which would be read with eagerness by future generations and which would be carefully preserved if it were durable, will not be reprinted, whatever its value. we may be sure that the daily papers of the present year will never be reprinted; the world of the future will be too busy, not to speak of the cost; yet what a series of human documents will disappear in their destruction! if a part of the professional obligation which you assumed in making yourselves responsible for the issues of the press is to transmit the record of this generation to later time, then it seems to me that you have in great measure betrayed your trust and have so far brought to naught the labors of your comrade, the librarian, in the conservation of literature. also you compel him to pay for unnecessary rebindings which can hardly be made, so poor is the stock you furnish the binder; yet on this point you have shown some indications of a change of heart, and i will pass it over. perhaps you have finally come to realize that every cent paid for rebinding is taken out of your gross receipts. i will not speak of the books that you ought never to have published, the books that are not books; most of these the librarian can avoid buying, but sometimes a book is just "ower gude for banning," and he has to take it and catalogue it and store it, and take account of it and rearrange it, and, after all, get scolded by his authorities or ridiculed by the public for housing so much rubbish. the author is responsible with you here, but your own individual responsibility is enough for any shoulders to bear. to the printer the librarian would say: since wishing is easy, let us imagine that what ought always to happen is happening regularly instead of rarely, namely, that the author produces a book worth printing and that the publisher leaves you free to put it into a worthy form. this is the opportunity that you have always been looking for. how are you going to meet it? do you know all the elements that you deal with and can you handle them with a sure touch practically and esthetically? if so, you will not need any hints from the librarian, and he will order your book "sight unseen." but still, among the good and right ways of making books, there may be some that he prefers, and he will ask you, when you are making books for him and not for private buyers, at least to give his preferences a hearing. he wants his books no bigger physically than they need be, and yet he would like to have them of a convenient height, from seven to nine inches. he would rather have their expansion in height and width and not in thickness, for the former dimensions up to ten and a half inches by eight mean no increased demand upon shelf room, while the thickness of every leaf is taken out of his library's capacity. he would like to have no wasteful margins and no extreme in the size of type. if it is too large, the book takes up too much room; if it is too small, his readers will ruin their eyes over it or, what is more likely, refuse to read it and so make its possession a useless expense. for the sake of rapid reading he would like to have every wide page printed in columns. for the same reason he would like to have every possible help given to the eye in the way of paragraphs, headlines, and variation of type, so far as it can be given in consonance with the esthetic rights of the book. with these points observed, and the book printed on paper as thin and as light in weight as can be conveniently used and is consistent with opacity and strength, with clear type, clear and durable ink, and good presswork, the printer will have done his part, and a book will go to the binder that is worthy of his best treatment. what that treatment is the binder knows better than i can tell him. when he has applied it, the book will come out of his hands at once solid and flexible; unmutilated, either on the outer edges where mutilation can be seen, or at the back where it cannot be seen, but where it nevertheless hurts the integrity of the book; covered with honest boards that will stand use, and clad with a material, cloth or leather, that is both strong to resist wear and also contains within itself no seeds of deterioration. besides this let it have a character, however unobtrusive, befitting the contents of the book, and the binder will have paid his full debt to the present and the future. while the librarian's ideals of bookmaking are not the only ones, they are in harmony with the best, and there cannot be progress in bookmaking without approaching his ideals. he is, therefore, by his very office committed to every undertaking for the improvement of the book, and because of the efforts of librarians and other booklovers there is ground for belief that the books of the present decade will be better than those of the last. the book beautiful we who use books every day as tools of trade or sources of inspiration are apt to overlook the fact that the book, on its material side, is an art object. not, indeed, that it ranks with the products of poetry, painting, sculpture, and other arts of the first grade; but it has a claim to our consideration on the level of the minor arts, along with jewelry, pottery, tapestry, and metal work. moreover, its intimate association with literature, of which it is the visible setting, gives it a charm that, while often only reflected, may also be contributory, heightening the beauty that it enshrines. using the word beauty for the result of artistic mastery, we may say that in the other arts beauty is the controlling factor in price, but in the book this is the case only exceptionally. as a consequence beautiful books are more accessible for purchase or observation than any other equally beautiful objects. for the price of a single very beautiful rug one can obtain a small library of the choicest books. except in the case of certain masterpieces of the earliest printing, in which rarity is joined to beauty, high prices for books have nothing to do with their artistic quality. even for incunabula one need pay only as many dollars as for tapestries of the same grade one would have to pay thousands. in book collecting, therefore, a shallow purse is not a bar to achievement, and in our day of free libraries one may make good progress in the knowledge and enjoyment of beautiful books without any expense at all. public taste is probably as advanced in the appreciation of the book beautiful as of any other branch of art, but it is active rather than enlightened. this activity is a good sign, for it represents the first stage in comprehension; the next is the consciousness that there is more in the subject than had been realized; the third is appreciation. the present chapter is addressed to those--and they are many--who are in the second stage. the first piece of advice to those who seek acquaintance with the book beautiful is: surround yourself with books that the best judges you know call beautiful; inspect them, handle them; cultivate them as you would friends. it will not be long before most other books begin to annoy you, though at first you cannot tell why. then specific differences one after another will stand out, until at last you come to know something of the various elements of the book, their possibilities of beauty or ugliness, and their relations one to another. no one should feel ashamed if this process takes a long time--is indeed endless. william morris pleaded to having sinned in the days of ignorance, even after he had begun to make books. so wide is the field and so many and subtle are the possible combinations that all who set out to know books must expect, like the late john richard green, to "die learning." but the learning is so delightful and the company into which it brings us is so agreeable that we have no cause to regret our lifelong apprenticeship. the first of all the qualities of the book beautiful is fitness. it must be adapted to the literature which it contains, otherwise it will present a contradiction. imagine a "little classic" josephus or a folio keats. the literature must also be worthy of a beautiful setting, else the book will involve an absurdity. have we not all seen presentation copies of government documents which gave us a shock when we passed from the elegant outside to the commonplace inside? but the ideal book will go beyond mere fitness; it will be both an interpretation of its contents and an offering of homage to its worth. the beauty of the whole involves perfect balance as well as beauty of the parts. no one must take precedence of the rest, but there must be such a perfect harmony that we shall think first of the total effect and only afterwards of the separate elements that combine to produce it. this greatly extends our problem, but also our delight in its happy solutions. the discerning reader has probably noticed that we have already smuggled into our introduction the notion that the book beautiful is a printed book; and, broadly speaking, so it must be at the present time. but we should not forget that, while the printed book has charms and laws of its own, the book was originally written by hand and in this form was developed to a higher pitch of beauty than the printed book has ever attained. as ruskin says, "a well-written book is as much pleasanter and more beautiful than a printed book as a picture is than an engraving." calligraphy and illumination are to-day, if not lost arts, at best but faint echoes of their former greatness. they represent a field of artistic effort in which many persons of real ability might attain far greater distinction and emolument than in the overcrowded ordinary fields of art. printing itself would greatly benefit from a flourishing development of original bookmaking, gaining just that stimulus on the art side that it needs to counterbalance the pressure of commercialism. at present, however, we shall commit no injustice if, while remembering its more perfect original, we accept the printed book as the representative of the book beautiful; but, as a matter of fact, most that we shall have to say of it will apply with little change to the manuscript book. a final point by way of preface is the relation of the book beautiful to the well-made book. the two are not identical. a book may be legible, strong, and durable, yet ill-proportioned and clumsy, ugly in every detail. on the other hand, the book beautiful must be well made, else it will not keep its beauty. the point where the two demands tend most to conflict is at the hinge of the cover, where strength calls for thickness of leather and beauty for thinness. the skill of the good binder is shown in harmonizing these demands when he shaves the under side of the leather for the joint. let us now take up the elements of the book one by one and consider their relations to beauty. to one who never had seen a book before it would seem, as it stands on the shelf or lies on the table, a curious rectangular block; and such it is in its origin, being derived from the roman codex, which was a block of wood split into thin layers. when closed, therefore, the book must have the seeming solidity of a block; but open it and a totally new character appears. it is now a bundle of thin leaves, and its beauty no longer consists in its solidity and squareness, but in the opposite qualities of easy and complete opening, and flowing curves. this inner contradiction, so far from making the book a compromise and a failure, is one of the greatest sources of its charm, for each condition must be met as if the other did not exist, and when both are so met, we derive the same satisfaction as from any other combination of strength and grace, such as schiller celebrates in his "song of the bell." the book therefore consists of a stiff cover joined by a flexible back--in the book beautiful a tight back--and inclosing highly flexible leaves. the substance of the board is not visible, being covered with an ornamental material, either cloth or leather, but it should be strong and tough and in thickness proportioned to the size of the volume. in very recent years we have available for book coverings really beautiful cloths, which are also more durable than all but the best leathers; but we have a right to claim for the book beautiful a covering of leather, and full leather, not merely a back and hinges. we have a wide range of beauty in leathers, from the old ivory of parchment--when it has had a few centuries in which to ripen its color--to the sensuous richness of calf and the splendor of crushed levant. the nature of the book must decide, if the choice is yet to be made. but, when the book has been covered with appropriate leather so deftly that the leather seems "grown around the board," and has been lettered on the back--a necessary addition giving a touch of ornament--we are brought up against the hard fact that, unless the decorator is very skillful indeed--a true artist as well as a deft workman--he cannot add another touch to the book without lessening its beauty. the least obtrusive addition will be blind tooling, or, as in so many old books, stamping, which may emphasize the depth of color in the leather. the next step in the direction of ornament is gilding, the next inlaying. in the older books we find metal clasps and corners, which have great decorative possibilities; but these, like precious stones, have disappeared from book ornamentation in modern times before the combined inroad of the democratic and the classic spirit. having once turned back the cover, our interest soon forsakes it for the pages inclosed by it. the first of these is the page opposite the inside of the cover; obviously it should be of the same or, at least, of a similar material to the body of the book. but the inside of the cover is open to two treatments; it may bear the material either of the outer covering or of the pages within. so it may display, for instance, a beautiful panel of leather--doublure--or it may share with the next page a decorative lining paper; but that next page should never be of leather, for it is the first page of the book. as regards book papers, we are to-day in a more fortunate position than we were even a few years ago; for we now can obtain, and at no excessive cost, papers as durable as those employed by the earliest printers. it is needless to say that these are relatively rough papers. they represent one esthetic advance in papermaking since the earliest days in that they are not all dead white. some of the books of the first age of printing still present to the eye very nearly the blackest black on the whitest white. but, while this effect is strong and brilliant, it is not the most pleasing. the result most agreeable to the eye still demands black or possibly a dark blue ink, but the white of the paper should be softened. whether we should have made this discovery of our own wit no one can tell; but it was revealed to us by the darkening of most papers under the touch of time. shakespeare forebodes this yellowing of his pages; but what was then thought of as a misfortune has since been accepted as an element of beauty, and now book papers are regularly made "antique" as well as "white." even white does not please us unless it inclines to creamy yellow rather than to blue. but here, as everywhere, it is easy to overstep the bounds of moderation and turn excess into a defect. the paper of the book beautiful will not attract attention; we shall not see it until our second look at the page. the paper must not be too thick for the size of the book, else the volume will not open well, and its pages, instead of having a flowing character, will be stiff and hard. the sewing of the book is not really in evidence, except indirectly. upon the sewing and gluing, after the paper, depends the flexibility of the book; but the sewing in most early books shows in the raised bands across the back, which are due to the primitive and preferable stitch. it may also show in some early and much modern work in saw-marks at the inner fold when the book is spread wide open; but no such book can figure as a book beautiful. the head band is in primitive books a part of the sewing, though in all modern books, except those that represent a revival of medieval methods, it is something bought by the yard and stuck in without any structural connection with the rest of the book. it is the page and not the cover that controls the proportions of the book, as the living nautilus controls its inclosing shell. the range in the size of books is very great--from the "fly's-eye dante" to "audubon's birds"--but the range in proportion within the limits of beauty is astonishingly small, a difference in the relation of the width of the page to its height between about sixty and seventy-five per cent. if the width is diminished to nearer one-half the height, the page becomes too narrow for beauty, besides making books of moderate size too narrow to open well. on the other hand, if the width is much more than three-quarters of the height, the page offends by looking too square. in the so-called "printer's oblong," formed by taking twice the width for the diagonal, the width is just under fifty-eight per cent of the height, and this is the limit of stately slenderness in a volume. as we go much over sixty per cent, the book loses in grace until we approach seventy-five per cent, when a new quality appears, which characterizes the quarto, not so much beauty, perhaps, except in small sizes, as a certain attractiveness, like that of a freight boat, which sets off the finer lines of its more elegant associates. a really square book would be a triumph of ugliness. oblong books also rule themselves out of our category. a book has still a third element in its proportions, thickness. a very thin book may be beautiful, but a book so thick as to be chunky or squat is as lacking in elegance as the words we apply to it. to err on the side of thickness is easy; to err on the side of thinness is hard, since even a broadside may be a thing of beauty. we now come to the type-page, of which the paper is only the carrier and framework. this should have, as nearly as possible, the proportion of the paper--really it is the type that should control the paper--and the two should obviously belong together. the margins need not be extremely large for beauty; an amount of surface equal to that occupied by the type is ample. there was once a craze for broad margins and even for "large-paper" copies, in which the type was lost in an expanse of margin; but book designers have come to realize that the proportion of white to black on a page can as easily be too great as too small. far more important to the beauty of a page than the extent of the margin are its proportions. the eye demands that the upper margin of a printed page or a framed engraving shall be narrower than the lower, but here the kinship of page to picture ceases. the picture is seen alone, but the printed page is one of a pair and makes with its mate a double diagram. this consists of two panels of black set between two outer columns of white and separated by a column of white. now if the outer and inner margins of a page are equal, the inner column of the complete figure will be twice as wide as the outer. the inner margin of the page should therefore be half (or, to allow for the sewing and the curve of the leaf, a little more than half) the width of the outer. then, when we open the book, we shall see three columns of equal width. the type and paper pages, being of the same shape, should as a rule be set on a common diagonal from the inner upper corner to the outer lower corner. this arrangement will give the same proportion between the top and bottom margins as was assigned to the inner and outer. it is by attention to this detail that one of the greatest charms in the design of the book may be attained. we saw that the shape of the book is a rectangle, and this would naturally be so if there were no other reason for it than because the smallest factor of the book, the type, is in the cross-section of its body a rectangle. the printed page is really built up of tiny invisible rectangles, which thus determine the shape of the paper page and of the cover. a page may be beautiful from its paper, its proportions, its color effects, even if it is not legible; but the book beautiful, really to satisfy us, must neither strain the eye with too small type nor offend it with fantastic departures from the normal. the size of the type must not be out of proportion to that of the page or the column; for two or more columns are not barred from the book beautiful. the letters must be beautiful individually and beautiful in combination. it has been remarked that while roman capitals are superb in combination, black-letter capitals are incapable of team play, being, when grouped, neither legible nor beautiful. there has been a recent movement in the direction of legibility that has militated against beauty of type, and that is the enlarging of the body of the ordinary lowercase letters at the expense of its limbs, the ascenders and descenders, especially the latter. the eye takes little account of descenders in reading, because it runs along a line just below the tops of the ordinary letters, about at the bar of the small e; nevertheless, to one who has learned to appreciate beauty in type design there is something distressing in the atrophied or distorted body of the g in so many modern types and the stunted p's and q's--which the designer clearly did not mind! the ascenders sometimes fare nearly as badly. now types of this compressed character really call for leading, or separation of the lines; and when this has been done, the blank spaces thus created might better have been occupied by the tops and bottoms of unleaded lines containing letters of normal length and height. too much leading, like too wide margins, dazzles and offends the eye with its excess of white. the typesetting machines have also militated against beauty by requiring that every letter shall stand within the space of its own feet or shoulders. thus the lowercase f and y and the uppercase q are shorn of their due proportions. these are points that most readers do not notice, but they are essential, for the type of the book beautiful must not be deformed by expediency. on the other hand, it need not be unusual; if it is, it must be exceptionally fine to pass muster at all. the two extremes of standard roman type, caslon and bodoni, are handsome enough for any book of prose. one may go farther in either direction, but at one's risk. for poetry, cloister oldstyle offers a safe norm, from which any wide departure must have a correspondingly strong artistic warrant. all these three types are beautiful, in their letters themselves, and in the combinations of their letters into lines, paragraphs, and pages. beautiful typography is the very foundation of the book beautiful. but beautiful typography involves other elements than the cut of the type itself. the proofreading must be trained and consistent, standing for much more than the mere correction of errors. the presswork must be strong and even. the justification must be individual for each line, and not according to a fixed scale as in machine setting; even when we hold the page upside down, we must not be able to detect any streamlets of white slanting across the page. moreover, if the page is leaded, the spacing must be wider in proportion, so that the color picture of the rectangle of type shall be even and not form a zebra of black and white stripes. it is hardly necessary to say that the registration must be true, so that the lines of the two pages on the same leaf shall show accurately back to back when one holds the page to the light. minor elements of the page may contribute beauty or ugliness according to their handling: the headline and page number, their character and position; notes marginal or indented, footnotes; chapter headings and initials; catch-words; borders, head and tail pieces, vignettes, ornamental rules. even the spacing of initials is a task for the skilled craftsman. some printers go so far as to miter or shave the type-body of initials to make them, when printed, seem to cling more closely to the following text. indenting, above all in poetry, is a feature strongly affecting the beauty of the page. not too many words may be divided between lines; otherwise the line endings will bristle with hyphens. a paragraph should not end at the bottom of a page nor begin too near it, neither should a final page contain too little nor be completely full. minor parts of the book, the half-title, the dedication page, the table of contents, the preface, the index, present so many opportunities to make or mar the whole. especially is this true of the title-page. this the earliest books did not have, and many a modern printer, confronted with a piece of refractory title copy, must have sighed for the good old days of the colophon. whole books have been written on the title-page; it must suffice here to say that each represents a new problem, a triumphant solution of which gives the booklover as much pleasure to contemplate as any other single triumph of the volume. but what of color--splendid initials in red, blue, or green, rubricated headings, lines, or paragraphs? it is all a question of propriety, literary and artistic. the same principle holds as in decoration of binding. a beautiful black and white page is so beautiful that he who would improve it by color must be sure of his touch. the beauty of the result and never the beauty of the means by itself must be the test. but books are not always composed of text alone. we need not consider diagrams, which hardly concern the book beautiful, except to say that, being composed of lines, they are often really more decorative than illustrations fondly supposed to be artistic. the fact that an engraving is beautiful is no proof that it will contribute beauty to a book; it may only make an esthetic mess of the text and itself. as types are composed of firm black lines, only fairly strong black-line engravings have any artistic right in the book. this dictum, however, would rule out so many pictures enjoyed by the reader that he may well plead for a less sweeping ban; so, as a concession to weakness, we may allow white-line engravings and half-tones if they are printed apart from the text and separated from it, either by being placed at the end of the book or by having a sheet of opaque paper dividing each from the text. in this case the legend of the picture should face it so that the reader will have no occasion to look beyond the two pages when he has them before him. the printers of the sixteenth century, especially the dutch, did not hesitate to send their pages through two presses, one the typographic press, and the other the roller press for copper-plate engravings. the results give us perhaps the best example that we have of things beautiful in themselves but unlovely in combination. as in the use of other ornamental features, there are no bounds to the use of illustration except that of fitness. we have spoken of margins from the point of view of the page; from that of the closed book they appear as edges, and here they present several problems in the design of the book beautiful. if the book is designed correctly from the beginning, the margins will be of just the right width and the edges cannot be trimmed without making them too narrow. besides, the untrimmed edges are witnesses to the integrity of the book; if any exception may be made, it will be in the case of the top margin, which may be gilded both for beauty and to make easy the removal of dust. but the top should be rather shaved than trimmed, so that the margin may not be visibly reduced. the gilding of all the edges, or "full gilt," is hardly appropriate to the book beautiful, though it may be allowed in devotional books, especially those in limp binding, and its effect may there be heightened by laying the gilt on red or some other color. edges may be goffered, that is, decorated with incised or burnt lines, though the result, like tattooing, is more curious than ornamental. the edges may even be made to receive pictures, but here again the effect smacks of the barbaric. we have now gone over our subject in the large. to pursue it with all possible degrees of minuteness would require volumes. william morris, for instance, discusses the proper shape for the dot of the i; and even the size of the dot and its place above the letter are matters on which men hold warring opinions. we have not even raised the question of laid or wove paper, nor of the intermixture of different series or sizes of types. in short, every phase of the subject bristles with moot points, the settlement of one of which in a given way may determine the settlement of a score of others. but what is the use to the public of this knowledge and enjoyment of ours? is it not after all a fruitless piece of self-indulgence? surely, if bookmaking is one of the minor arts, then the private knowledge and enjoyment of its products is an element in the culture of the community. but it is more than that; it is both a pledge and a stimulus to excellence in future production. artists in all fields are popularly stigmatized as a testy lot--_irritabile genus_--but their techiness does not necessarily mean opposition to criticism, but only to uninformed and unappreciative criticism, especially if it be cocksure and blatant. there is nothing that the true artist craves so much--not even praise--as understanding of his work and the welcome that awaits his work in hand from the lips of "those who know." thus those who appreciate and welcome the book beautiful, by their encouragement help to make it more beautiful, and so by head and heart, if not by hand, they share in the artist's creative effort. also, by thus promoting beauty in books, they discourage ugliness in books, narrowing the public that will accept ugly books and lessening the degree of ugliness that even this public will endure. finally, it seems no mere fancy to hold that by creating the book beautiful as the setting of the noblest literature, we are rendering that literature itself a service in the eyes of others through the costly tribute that we pay to the worth of the jewel itself. the reader's high privilege in de morgan's winsome story, "alice for short," the heroine of the earlier portion, miss peggy heath, is made to feel what it would mean to her to be deprived of a certain companion, and thus realizes his importance to her life. it is this test of elimination that i shall ask you to apply to reading. imagine yourselves deprived of the privilege, as many another has been by loss of sight or illness or poverty or removal from book centers. i have in mind such an instance. the late professor william mathews was injured by a fall when he was ninety years old, and until the end of his life, about a year later, was confined to his bed. you may know him as the author of various books of essays: "getting on in the world," "great conversers," "hours with men and books," "words, their use and abuse," and other volumes that testify a marvelous range of acquaintance with literature. he wrote to a friend that he was brightening his hours of loneliness by repeating to himself passages of poetry and prose that he had learned by heart in his earlier days. few of us can ever have such stores of memory to draw upon as his, but how happy we should be if under such circumstances we might be able to turn to a like source of consolation. yet we have a much more famous instance of a great scholar cut off from the privilege of reading. milton has given us in his famous invocation to light, with which he opens the third book of "paradise lost," a picture of his own deprivation, presented with a universal blank in place of nature's fair book of knowledge. the passage is too long to quote here, but let the reader turn to it, if only to refresh his memory. this shows the privilege that we are now enjoying, and it may perhaps be sufficient to take our lesson at this point; but since it is always pleasanter to consider gain rather than loss, suppose we turn the subject around and imagine how it would seem if, after having been deprived all our lives of the privilege of reading, we suddenly had it thrust upon us. we should now find ourselves able to enjoy those wonderful works of literature which we had always been hearing about from the lips of others, but had never been able to know directly. how we should revel in the prospect before us! at last to be able to read the "iliad"! to follow the fortunes of wandering ulysses! to accompany dante in his mystical journey through the three worlds! to dare with macbeth and to doubt with hamlet! our trouble would be that we should not know which to select first. we should wish we had the eyes of an insect that we might read them all at once. we have a familiar expression in taking leave of our friends, "be good to yourself!" which, it will be seen, is the modern man's translation of the old "farewell," with the truly modern implication that the question of his faring well will depend upon himself. but can we call a man good to himself who does not avail himself of advantages that are freely open to him and that others about him are embracing? the great men of the past have been such because to their natural abilities they added an acquaintance with the thought of the great men who preceded them. the same is true of the men whom we are glad to honor among our contemporaries. we may feel very sure that we are not heaven-descended geniuses, or even possessed of unusual talent; and yet, if we do not give ourselves the advantages that all those had who have won distinction, we have certainly not given ourselves a fair chance to show what is in us. therefore, as a duty to ourselves, we must make the acquaintance of the books that the common judgment of the world has pronounced to be of the most value. they must become more than names to us. we may not indeed find in all of them food for our own spirits, but it is a part of our business in seeking a knowledge of mankind to know the thoughts and thought-forms that men have found of most worth. it is not to be supposed that we shall prize all these books equally; some of them will never be more to us than great monuments which, for some reason peculiar to our temperaments, do not appeal to us; but among their number we shall find some that will throw open to our souls the very gates of heaven--books that will raise our natures forevermore to a higher power, as if from two-dimensional flatland creatures we had suddenly been advanced to three dimensions, or, in our own humdrum world of length, breadth, and thickness, we had received the liberty of the mysterious fourth dimension. let us now take a brief inventory of our heritage. we can glance at only the most precious of these treasures, the crown jewels of the world's literature, which are all ours, whether we choose to wear them or not. but first let me make it plain that i am not assuming that all the great monuments of human genius are literary. i am not forgetful of the fact that literature is only one of the fine arts, that the strassburg cathedral, beethoven's ninth symphony, rembrandt's school of anatomy, michelangelo's moses are all products of man's creative genius, records of the life of god in the soul of man. but i do insist that literature is the most inclusive and the most definite of all the arts, and that therefore books unlock to us a vaster world than obeys the spell of any other art. one man's soul may attain its transfiguration through architecture or music or painting or sculpture as another does through poetry; the great thing is to attain the transfiguration; and let us be thankful for the many ways in which god fulfills himself to man. i am not trying to make out a case for literature, but literature is my subject, and what i say of it must be taken as equally friendly to all the other great forms of human expression and often as equally applicable to them. we will not talk of a five-foot or a three-foot shelf, or one of any other exact dimension, though i suspect that no very long range of space would be required to hold all the supremely great books for whose contents we should have room in our souls. the limitation will prove to be in us rather than in the material of literature. the bible, while containing supremely great literature, has still higher claims, and for the present discussion may be left to its special advocates. but meanwhile our treasures are waiting for their inventory. literature for people of our race begins with homer and is confined to europe and english america. this means in a very true sense that all the literature which concerns us is modern, for the greeks are the first and perhaps the greatest of the moderns. they present us as their first contribution the works that go under the name of homer, and we need not disturb ourselves now with the question whether the "iliad" and the "odyssey" were both written by the same man, or even each written by a single hand. the point is that we have in them an imperishable picture of the life of a vanished world. each is an epic of the natural man, the one national, the other personal. in the "iliad" we are plunged into the thickening close of the ten years' war between the greeks and trojans, during which the beautiful cause of all the trouble, helen, retains all her youthful bloom and, in fact, nobody seems to grow any older. we have a crowded stage with many episodes and interests. in the "odyssey" we trace the fortunes of one man, ulysses, during his return from the war, which occupies him ten years, so that he is away from home, as rip van winkle was, twenty years; but, instead of finding everybody grown old or dead, as irving's hero did, he finds his wife still young and attractive and beset by numerous suitors. we are very glad to have this so, because we are all children at heart and want just such an ending. the telling of these stories, while simple, is on a lofty plane; the gods themselves take part in the passions of the contestants and even in the warfare. the poet, no doubt, meant this for what it professes to be; but i cannot help seeing in the embroiling of olympus a perhaps unrealized tribute of the poet to the greatness of the human soul in the scale of the universe, a suggestion that moral and spiritual values and powers outweigh the stars in their courses. great as are the works of homer, we are not to suppose them the only masterpieces in greek literature. certainly the three great dramatists cannot be omitted, all so great, yet so unlike. these three, together with two pastoral poets, one lyric poet, and the greatest of prose poets, are vividly pictured by mrs. browning in the glowing stanzas of her "wine of cyprus." oh, our Ã�schylus, the thunderous! how he drove the bolted breath through the cloud, to wedge the ponderous in the gnarlèd oak beneath. oh, our sophocles, the royal, who was born to monarch's place, and who made the whole world loyal, less by kingly power than grace. our euripides, the human, with his droppings of warm tears, and his touches of things common till they rose to touch the spheres! our theocritus, our bion, and our pindar's shining goals!-- these were cup-bearers undying of the wine that's meant for souls. and my plato, the divine one, if men know the gods aright by their motions as they shine on with a glorious trail of light!-- it would not be surprising if some who read these lines should find more food for mind and soul in plato than in any other of the greek writers. certainly those works of plato and his contemporary, xenophon, that relate to the life, teachings, and death of socrates are contributions to a yet uncollected bible of humanity, one more inclusive than that of jew or christian. it is one of the great misfortunes of roman literature that the works of its chief writers are used as textbooks for schools, a misfortune shared to some extent by the greek. yet homer and xenophon, vergil and cicero, did not write for children or callow youth. they belong to longfellow's grand old masters, whose mighty thoughts suggest life's endless toil and endeavor, and their writings have no relation to adolescence. yet it is to be feared that most people who have read their works remember them as seen through the cloudy medium of their own immaturity. byron speaks of reading and hating horace as a schoolboy, but no normal person can hate horace any more than he can hate washington irving. it is possible, however, that pupils who have to read irving's "sketch book" with the fear of a college entrance examination before their minds may have no affection even for him. so some of us may have something to unlearn in our reading of vergil and horace, for we must approach their works as strong meat for mature minds. vergil's theme is nothing less than the glorification of the roman state through its divinely ordered and heroic founding. school children seldom read more than the six books of the "aeneid" required for college; but the other six, though of much less varied interest, are necessary for the appreciation of the poem. the whole is a work that no one can afford to pass over in his search for the burning words that keep alive the thought of other ages. very different in theme and manner is the poetry of horace. he is the most modern of all the men of old, far more modern than our own puritan ancestors. his mixture of grace and shrewdness, poetic charm and worldly wisdom, we find nowhere else. the bulk of his work is not large, and this fact, as in the case of gray and keats and poe, is rather in his favor, because the reader can easily become familiar with it all, though then he will sigh for more. horace wears well; the older we grow the better we like him. he has love songs for youth, political poems for maturity, and satires for old age. after we have lived with him for half a century he becomes more real to us than most of our acquaintances in the flesh. roman literature is not without other great names to attract the student; but these two must not be overlooked by the most general or the most selective reader. with vergil the world always associates the still greater figure of one who was proud to call him master--that of dante. more than is true of almost any other writer, his work is a compendium of the life of his time. the "divine comedy" is first of all poetry, and poetry of the loftiest order; but it is also an embodiment of the learning, the philosophy, and the theology of his age. it mirrors at once the greatness and the limitations of the medieval mind. dante is not modern in the sense that horace is, though he is thrice as near to us in time. leigh hunt said that his great poem ought to be called an infernal tragedy; but that is true only of the inferno; the spiritual atmosphere clears as we follow his footsteps through the purgatorio and the paradiso. of all the masterpieces of human genius the "divine comedy" is perhaps the one that asks the most self-surrender of the modern reader and--shall i add?--that repays it most richly. longfellow's marvelous sonnet sequence, written while he was translating dante, portrays at once the spirit in which we should approach the reading of the "divine comedy" and the wonders that we shall find there. it is a book that we never can outgrow. to know it is to be made a citizen of the moral universe. in , within ten days of each other, there passed from earth two men, each the writer first thought of when his country's literature is mentioned, and one of them the first writer in the world's literature. cervantes and shakespeare very likely died in ignorance of each other's work. stoddard has depicted them in paradise, where sweet cervantes walks, a smile on his grave face ... where, little seen but light, the only shakespeare is. there is no injustice in saying that shakespeare's nature included that of cervantes. not so inclusive was dante's; what his nature most lacked we find in the author of "don quixote." yet personally they are equally heroic figures, and, one an exile and the other a slave, both drained to the dregs the cup of human suffering. cervantes has several great advantages over most of the world's classic writers: his masterpiece is a work of humor; it is written in a simple and graceful style, at once easy and winning; and it is written in prose, which, after all, does not make so severe a cultural demand on the reader as poetry. for these very reasons it cannot aspire to the highest rank, but what it loses in fame it makes up in popularity. though in a few passages it is not parlor reading, "don quixote" is one of the cleanest of all the world's great books. it is not merely technically clean, but clean-minded. it has the form of a satire on chivalry, but its meaning goes much deeper. it is really a satire on a more persistent weakness of the spanish character, visionary unrealism. we have this quality held up to ridicule in the learned man and the ignorant man, for sancho panza is as much of an unrealist as his master, only he is a groveling visionary while don quixote is a soaring one. this, too, is a book that one does not outgrow, but finds it a perpetually adequate commentary on his own widening experience of men and their motives. in regard to the supreme figure in literature, the least thing that we can do is to read him, and, having read him, to read him again and to keep his volumes next to our hands. we shall hardly read shakespeare without having the question of commentators come up; and surely shakespeare deserves all the attention that we can bestow upon him. but the general reader should clearly distinguish between the two kinds of commentary that have appeared regarding shakespeare, the one having to do with his text, his historical accuracy, and his use of words, the other with his meaning. in hudson's edition these two kinds of notes are kept separate. surely it is the thought of shakespeare that we want, and not the pedantry of minute scholarship regarding his material, useful as that is in its place. the reader who has mastered hudson's introductions and has read dowden's "shakspere: his mind and art" or brandes's "critical study" will have all that he will ordinarily need in the way of guidance. but remember that reading about shakespeare is not reading shakespeare; _that_ means, for the time at least, self-surrender to shakespeare's leading. shakespeare is perhaps the supreme example of a man who found the world interesting. he may not be sympathetic with evil, but he finds it so interesting that he makes us, for the time being, take a fratricidal usurper like hamlet's uncle, or a gross, sponging braggart like falstaff, at his own estimate. shakespeare is never shocked at anything that happens in the world; he knows the world too well for that. he offends the puritan in us by his indifference; he is therefore probably the best kind of reading for puritans. shakespeare is romantic in his literary methods, but in his portrayal of character he is an unsurpassed realist. if life were all thought and achievement, shakespeare would be the last word in literature; but there is another side, the side which the puritan represents, with which shakespeare is but imperfectly sympathetic. his message accordingly needs to be supplemented; and it is interesting that his great successor, the man who still stands next to him in our literature, supplies that missing strain. if we could take but one book with us into banishment, it would be shakespeare--thus proving shakespeare's supremacy by miss peggy heath's principle of elimination; but if we could take two, that second, i am frank to confess, would for me be milton. it is milton's literary glory that he appeared in the second generation following spenser and shakespeare--he was born in shakespeare's lifetime--and carried off the palm, which he still keeps, for the greatest english poem. in spiritual kinship he is much nearer to spenser than to shakespeare. shakespeare hides behind his pages; his personality makes no clear or at least ready impression upon us; but the colossal personality of milton towers above all his works. he is milton, the superman, and communion with him for the moment lifts us to something like his own level. in this personal inspiration lies milton's greatest service to his readers. over and above the poetic delights, of which he is a master unsurpassed, is the inspiration that comes from the man behind the poetry; or, to express the same thought in other words, above the organ music of his verse sounds clear and far the trumpet call of personality. therefore milton is destined to inspire generations by which his theology and his justification of the ways of god to man are swept into his own limbo of myth and delusion. fortunately milton's verse is not appallingly great in amount. if we cannot hope to know it all by heart, as macaulay did, we can at least know it well enough to recognize any quotation from it, and rich will be the furnishing of our minds when we have made this true. in our beadroll of the world's greatest writers i shall mention only one more, goethe. he is the modern man who touched life most widely, penetratingly, and sanely. his long life came down so near to ours that many of us have had friends who were in childhood or infancy his contemporaries. it is fair to say that since his death the world has moved much nearer to his mental attitude than it stood in his lifetime, and one of the agencies that have wrought the change is the living force of his own works, which led and still lead the thought of men. goethe may be called the ideal creative critic of life. he held up a mirror, not to nature, as shakespeare did, but to society; and society can get away from the image which it sees reflected there only by growing away from it. here let us close our list, not because there are no other great writers to choose from, but because it is long enough for our present purposes, and because, from this point on, every addition is open to challenge. i have intentionally pitched my counsel high; some of my readers may feel like calling it a counsel of perfection; but according to my way of thinking, no writer is too good for any of us to read. moreover, i honestly think the list interesting. it is not chiefly reading for recreation, but for soul expansion, and it means intellectual effort. unless we wrestle with an author as jacob did with the angel, we shall not receive the highest blessing. but some one may plead that, while he does not wish to read wholly for amusement, he is not in a condition, either from training or circumstances, to engage in mental athletics. he cannot apply himself to an author as he recognizes that the greatest writers deserve; but he is willing to read with attention, and he should like to feel that what he is reading is good literature. this is a reasonable request, and, out of countless possible responses, i will make one that i hope may prove both profitable and attractive. let us set out with the recognition of the fact that systematic reading is far more profitable than desultory reading, even on the same literary level. one excellent way to achieve system is to read by authors--to make the author a study, in his writings and his life. to read hawthorne's "house of the seven gables," for instance, is to drink from a fountain of the purest spiritual delight; but we gain an additional delight, even if of a lower kind, when we know something of hawthorne's life and his relations to the old town of salem. in many cases it is necessary to know the author's life in order really to understand his book. now i will suggest the reading, not merely of separate authors, but of a group. there are many such, of varying degrees of greatness: the elizabethan group, the lake poets, the byron-shelley-keats group, the mid-nineteenth-century british novelists, to go no further than writers in english. but i am going to ask your interest in the new england group of authors who were writing fifty years ago. they comprise the well-known names of emerson, hawthorne, longfellow, whittier, holmes, thoreau, and lowell. each of these delightful writers deserves to be studied for his own sake, but, if we take them as a group, we shall gain still more in understanding and profit. how shall we approach the reading of them? they obviously cannot all be read at once; so let us begin with any one, say hawthorne, read his life in mrs. field's brief beacon biography, dipping at the same time into his "note-books," and then read some of his short stories and the "scarlet letter." his biography will already have brought us into contact with most of the other names, of longfellow, his college classmate, and of emerson and thoreau, his neighbors at concord. we may read the beacon biography of longfellow, but higginson's would be better, as fuller and more adequate. we may first read longfellow's prose works, "outre-mer" and "hyperion," and then his "voices of the night," besides following him in his "life, with extracts from his journal and correspondence," edited by his brother, which is one of the most delightful of books. we shall do well to read each author's writings in chronological succession; so they will stand in orderly relation with his life. similarly we may take up emerson first in mr. sanborn's beacon biography, or in dr. holmes's larger but still handy volume, and then we can apply ourselves with better understanding to emerson's essays and poems. i particularly mention his poems, for i believe that emerson will come to be rated higher as a poet than he has yet been. his poetry at its best is hardly below anyone's best; the only trouble is that there is so little of it; but ultimately all writers are judged by their best. in the same way we may take up all the writers of the group, learning something of the life of each and reading some of his works before passing on to another. let me especially call your attention to the writings of thoreau, who is less known to his countrymen than any of the others. he is a writer of great originality and freshness of view. he, too, wrote some exquisite poetry, worthy of any name in literature; but you will have to look for it among other verse that has more originality than charm. obviously what i have recommended is not the work of one year's leisure, but the protracted delight of many years: for these books are not to be hurried over to get to the end of the chapter or to see how they are coming out; neither are they material for skipping. they are to be read attentively and reread; and if one or another fails to make a strong appeal to some reader, surely he cannot fail to find in most of them a source of lofty pleasure and spiritual enrichment. one fruit that we may expect from such reading is that we shall find ourselves drawn nearer to the supreme masters and shall end by surrendering ourselves to them. to know our new england group is not indeed to climb the alps of literature, but it is at least to climb its white mountains. every gain will be a fresh incitement, and those who at the start join the literary appalachian club may be looked for some day in the ranks of the alpinists. a word on the reading of contemporary writers; for even our second list did not bring us down to our own time. we shall, of course, read our contemporaries, and we have a right to, so long as we do not give them the time and attention that clearly belong to their betters. the truth is that contemporaries--unless they are contemporary poets--have a quite unfair advantage over their elders, our own in time and place being so much more attractive to us than anything more remote. still, our contemporaries have a claim upon us--even, i am rash enough to assert, our contemporary poets--for they have a message that their predecessors cannot give us; it may not be the most important message for us, but it is a message of value, as we shall see if we return to de morgan and his novels. these remarkable books we cannot miss without losing something that makes our own day fine and precious among earth's generations. but in this respect they are literally chosen from ten thousand, for we need constantly the caution that the near carries with it an appearance of importance that is an illusion; of this truth our periodical literature, from the newspaper up, is the illustrious example, and the lesson is all summed up in the one phrase, "back number." let us be careful that in heeding contemporary voices we are not storing our minds with the contents of "back numbers." true literature as we have seen, never becomes out of date; homer keeps up with the telegraph. i have but one final word, which has been provided for me by charles lamb, who says in his inimitable fashion: "i own that i am disposed to say grace upon twenty other occasions in the course of the day besides my dinner. i want a form for setting out upon a pleasant walk, for a moonlight ramble, for a friendly meeting, or a solved problem. why have we none for books, those spiritual repasts--a grace before milton--a grace before shakespeare--a devotional exercise proper to be said before reading the fairy queen?" this is the spirit of a joyous but devoutly grateful expectance, in which i would have myself approach the reading of a great book. the gratitude i surely owe the author, for there is no great book but has come like refined gold out of the furnace fire. i owe it also to the providence which has granted me this lofty privilege. moreover, it is only in the humility born of such an attitude that i can make a complete approach to my author and gain that uplift and enrichment of the soul, which--and not pastime nor pleasure--is the true end, as it should be the aim of reading. the background of the book one of the greatest contributions that modern investigation has made to human knowledge is background. it was once thought a remarkable achievement to uncover the historic background of modern institutions, and this was all that, until lately, scholarship attempted. dr. samuel johnson confidently remarked that we know no more about ancient britain than the old writers have told us, nor can we ever know any more than this. edward clodd reminds us that at the very time when the great oracle voiced this assertion discoveries had already been made in england that, when interpreted as they have been since, were to make the landing of caesar seem, by comparison, a contemporary occurrence. now this inconceivably remote prehistoric era furnishes not merely arrowheads and stone chisels and burial mounds, but also other objects that are the background of that "picture of time" of which the book of to-day is the foreground. very properly these are objects of art, and they afford the earliest illustrations in histories of art as they do in histories of the book. thus the printer who questions what art has to do with his business stamps himself as two hundred thousand years behind the times. they are pictures, and the book of to-day has descended as directly from them as the printer of to-day has descended from the man who made them. they are, moreover, in some instances, works of very high art. the picture of the mammoth, scratched on a fragment of the mammoth's tusk, is a piece of drawing so skillful that only the greatest living masters can equal it. not even rembrandt's drawing of the elephant, which dr. holmes celebrates in one of his poems, is more expressive or wrought with more economy of effort. in the same district of southwestern france, dordogne, that yielded the drawings are found long cave galleries of paintings representing the creatures of that period, all executed with great spirit and ability. but what are the steps in the descent from these ancient pictures to the printed book? primitive man had one more string to his conversational bow than most civilized people have, namely, sign language. but gesture and speech alike prevail but little against space and time. each is possible only at short range, and each dies on the eye or ear that receives it. pictures may be carried to any distance and may be preserved for any length of time. they were probably made first in response to an instinct rather for art than for the communication of ideas; but their great advantage for communication must have been perceived very early, and, as we find picture writing employed by primitive races to-day, we have the right to infer that prehistoric peoples at the same stage of culture also employed it. pure picture writing, however, does not suffice for all that men have to say. it is easy to represent a house, but how shall we represent a home? it is easy to represent a woman, but how shall we add the idea of wife? to do this we must pass from simple pictures to symbols. chinese writing has never advanced beyond this stage. its prodigious type-case of more than forty-two thousand characters contains, therefore, only a series of pictures, direct and symbolic, all highly conventionalized, but recognizable in their earlier forms. to represent "wife" the chinaman combines the two signs for "woman" and "broom"; to represent "home" he makes a picture of a pig under a roof! the egyptian and mexican systems of writing, though very different to the eye, were both of this nature and represented ideas rather than words. yet all true alphabets, which are representations of sound, have been derived from such primitive ideograms or pictures of ideas. what was the process? the rebus is the bridge from the writing of thoughts to the writing of sounds, and it came into use through the necessity of writing proper names. every ancient name, like many modern ones, had a meaning. a king's name might be wolf, and it would be indicated by the picture of a wolf. ordinarily the picture would be named by everyone who saw it according to his language; he might call it "wolf," or "lupus," or "lykos"; but when it meant a man's name he must call it wolf, whatever his own language. so such names as long knife and strong arm would be represented, and these pictures would thus be associated with the sound rather than the thing. by and by it was found convenient, where the word had several syllables, to use its picture to represent the sound of only the first syllable, and, still later, of only the first sound or letter. thus the egyptian symbol for f was originally a picture of the horned asp, later it stood for the egyptian name of this venomous creature, and finally for the first sound in the name, being used as the letter f itself; and the reason why we have the barred cross-piece in the f, the two horns in u, v, and y, and the four in w (vv) is because the egyptian asp had two horns, as may be seen from the illustration in the century dictionary under the word cerastes; and every time that we write one of these letters we are making a faded copy of the old picture. we find systems of writing in all the stages from pure pictures to the phonetic alphabet; in egyptian hieroglyphics we find a mixture of all the stages. so much for the background of the book as the bringer of a message to the eye, but the outward form or wrapping of that message has also a long and interesting history. no objects could be much more unlike than a babylonian tablet, an egyptian papyrus roll, and a mexican book. they are as different as a brick, a narrow window-shade, and a lady's fan; they have nothing common in their development, yet they were used for the same purpose and might bring identically the same message to the mind. inwardly, as regards writing or printing, all books have a parallel development; but outwardly, in their material and its form, they are the results of local conditions. in babylonia, which was a fertile river-bottom, bricks were the only building material, and clay was therefore a familiar substance. nothing was more natural than that the babylonian should scratch his record or message on a little pat of clay, which he could afterwards bake and render permanent. some day all other books in the world will have crumbled into dust, their records being saved only when reproduced; but at that remote time there will still exist babylonian books, even now five thousand years old, apparently no nearer destruction than when they were first made. the babylonian book carried its message all on the outside; the egyptian book went to the opposite extreme, and we should find our chief objection to it in the difficulty of getting readily at its contents. there flourished on the banks of the nile a stout reed, six feet high, called by the egyptians "p-apa" and by the greeks "papyros" or "byblos." it was the great source of raw material for egyptian manufactures. its tufted head was used for garlands; its woody root for various purposes; its tough rind for ropes, shoes, and similar articles--the basket of moses, for instance; and its cellular pith for a surface to write on. as the stem was jointed, the pith came in lengths, the best from eight to ten inches. these lengths were sliced through from top to bottom, and the thin slices laid side by side. another layer was pasted crosswise above these, the whole pressed, dried in the sun, and rubbed smooth, thus giving a single sheet of papyrus. as the grain ran differently on the two surfaces of the papyrus sheet, only one side was written on. other sheets were added to this by pasting them edge to edge until enough for a roll had been made, usually twenty, a roller being fastened to the last edge and a protecting strip of wood to the front. the manuscript was unrolled by the right hand and rolled up by the left. it is obvious that a book of reference in this form would be subjected to great wear. in our dictionaries it is as easy to find z as a; but in a papyrus book, to find the end meant to unroll the whole. the latin word for roll was "volumen," hence our "volume." a long work could obviously not be produced conveniently in a single roll, therefore homer's "iliad" and "odyssey," for instance, were each divided into twenty-four books, and that is why the divisions of an epic poem are still called books, though they are really chapters. the rolls composing a single work were kept together in a case something like a bandbox. the roll was the book form of the greek and roman as well as the egyptian world, but it left no descendants. our book form was derived from a different source, which we will now consider. just as we speak of russia leather, so the ancients spoke of pergamum skins, or parchment. the story is that eumenes ii, king of pergamum, a city of asia minor, tried to build up a library rivaling that of alexandria, and the ptolemies, seeking to thwart him, forbade the export of papyrus from egypt. eumenes, however, developed the manufacture of pergamum skin, or parchment, or vellum, which not only enabled him to go on with his library, but also incidentally changed the whole character of the book for future ages. this material is not only much more serviceable than the fragile papyrus, but, being tough enough to stand folding and sewing, permitted the book to be made in its present or codex form, the original codex being two or three roman waxed tablets of wood, fastened together like hinged slates, and thus opening very crudely in the manner of our books. this development of parchment occurred in the first half of the second century before christ. the new material and book form gradually made their way into favor and came to constitute the book of the early christian and medieval world. though paper was introduced into europe soon after the year seven hundred, it did not displace parchment until the invention of printing called for a material of its cheaper and more adaptable character. but, though we have traced the origin of our present book form, we have not yet filled in the background of its history. several other notable types of the book deserve our attention; first of all that of china, one of the most attractive of all book forms, to which we devote our next chapter. though it superficially resembles our own books, it is really the product of a different line of evolution. when we examine it closely, we find that in many respects it is the exact reverse of our practice. it is printed on only one side of the paper; it is trimmed at the back and folded on the fore edge; its wide margin is at the top; its running headline is on the folded fore edge; its sewing is on the outside; its binding is limp; its lines run up and down the page; and its pages, according to western ideas, open from the back towards the front. yet it is a thing of beauty, and let us hope that nothing in the modern reorganization of china will change its character to prevent it from remaining a joy forever. just as chinese paper is made from bamboo, which plays an even greater part in china than papyrus did in egypt, so the book of india utilizes the leaves of that important tropical tree, the palm. the sheets of the book before me are strips of palm-leaf two inches wide and two feet long. they are written on both sides and, following the run of the grain, lengthwise. this makes an inordinate length of line, but, owing to the small number of lines on the page, the confusion of the eye is less than might be expected. the leaves composing the book are clamped between two boards of their own size, the block thus formed is pierced with two holes, through which pins are thrust, and the whole is wound with a cord. the dimensions vary, some books being larger and some much smaller. i have also before me a burmese booklet in which the leaves are one inch wide and six inches long. sometimes the sheets are of brass, beautifully lacquered, and the writing heavy and highly decorative. these books also vary greatly in size, some forming truly massive and sumptuous volumes. birch bark was also employed as a book material in india, being used in what we should call quarto sheets, and in farther india a peculiar roll is in use, made of chinese paper, folded at the side, sewed at the top, and rolled up like a manifold banner in a cover of orange-colored or brown cotton cloth. we do not ordinarily associate books with pre-columbian america; yet one of the most interesting of all book forms was current in mexico before the conquest. as in the case of the chinese book, it looks superficially like ours; we think it is a tiny quarto until we see that its measure is rather that of an oblong twenty-fourmo; that is, its dimensions are just scant of five inches high and six inches wide. it has thin wooden covers and is, over all, an inch thick; but between these covers is a strip of deerskin twenty-nine feet long and, of course, nearly five inches wide. this is folded in screen or fan fashion, the first and last leaves being pasted to the inside of the covers. this attachment is really the only binding; the whole strip is capable of being opened up to its full length. it is read--by those who can read its vividly colored hieroglyphics--by holding it like a modern book, turning the leaves until what seems the end is reached, and then turning the cover for the next leaf, and continuing to turn until the first cover is reached again, but from the other side. incredible as it may seem, there is a book of india which is almost identical in structure with the ancient mexican book. it has the shape of the palm-leaf book, but it is made of heavy paper, blackened to be written on with a chalk pencil, and it opens like a fan exactly in the mexican fashion. each cover is formed by a double fold of paper, and the writing runs lengthwise of the page as in the palm-leaf volume. as the writing can be erased, the book serves the purpose of a slate. the variety of objects that men have used to write upon almost surpasses imagination, ranging from mountain walls to the ivory shoulders of rider haggard's heroine in his "mr. meeson's will." such unusual, if actual, writing materials belong, perhaps, rather to the penumbra than to the background of the book; but, as a final survey of our subject, running back to the time when there were no books and men must rely upon their memories, we may quote what lane says of the sources from which the kuran was derived after the death of mohammed: "so zeyd gathered the kurán from palm-leaves, skins, shoulder-blades (of beasts), stones, and the hearts of men." the chinese book the naturalist, lloyd morgan, in one of his lectures threw together on the screen pictures of a humming bird and an insect of the same size, the two looking so much alike as to seem to the casual observer to belong to the same order. yet they are anatomically far more different than the man and the fish. in much the same way we may be led to suppose that a chinese book and an occidental paper-bound book are much the same thing in origin as they are to the eye. but here too the likeness is only apparent. one book form has descended from a block of wood and the other from a fold of silk. the chinese book is such a triumph of simplicity, cheapness, lightness, and durability that it deserves a more careful study at the hands of our book producers than it has yet received. in fact we do not see why books made on nearly these lines should not be an attractive and popular innovation in our book trade. approaches, to be sure, have been made to this peculiar book form, but they have been partial imitations, not consistent reproductions. in an illustrated edition of longfellow's "michael angelo," published in , houghton, mifflin and company produced a small folio, the binding of which is obviously patterned after that of a chinese book. but the printing is on every page, and the paper is so stiff that the book will not lie open. in the holiday edition which the same publishers issued in of aldrich's poem, entitled "friar jerome's beautiful book," they produced a volume in which the front folds were not intended to be cut open; but they outdid the chinese by printing on only one of the pages exposed at each opening of the book, instead of on both, as the chinese do, thus utilizing only one-fourth of the possible printing surface of the volume. in this case again the paper was stiff and the binding was full leather with heavy tapes for tying. a much closer approach to the chinese book form was afforded by "the periodical," issued by henry frowde, in the form which it bore at first. here we have what may fairly be called a naturalization of the chinese book idea in the occident. but let us see exactly what that chinese book form is. the standard book is printed from engraved wood blocks, each of which is engraved on the side of the board, not on the end like our wood blocks, and for economy is engraved on both its sides. each of these surfaces prints one sheet of paper, making two pages. the paper, being unsized, is printed on only one side, and the fold is not at the back, as in our books, but at the front. the running headline, as we should call it, with the page number, is printed in a central column, which is folded through when the book is bound, coming half on one page and half on the other. there is always printed in this column a fan-shaped device, called the fish's tail, whose notch indicates where the fold is to come. it may be remarked in passing that the chinese book begins on what to us is the last page, and that the lines read from top to bottom and follow one another from right to left. each page has a double ruled line at top and bottom and on the inner edge. the top and bottom lines and the fish's tail, being printed across the front fold, show as black lines banding the front edge when the book is bound. the bottom line is taken by the binder as his guide in arranging the sheets, this line always appearing true on the front edge and the others blurred. the top margin has more than twice the breadth of the lower. after the sheets are gathered, holes are punched at proper distances from the back edge--four seems to be the regulation number whether the book be large or small, but large books have an extra hole at top and bottom towards the corner from the last hole. these holes are then plugged with rolls of paper to keep the sheets in position, and the top, bottom, and back edges are shaved with a sharp, heavy knife, fifty or more volumes being trimmed at the same stroke. a piece of silk is pasted over the upper and lower corners of the back. covers, consisting of two sheets of colored paper folded in front like the pages, are placed at front and back, but not covering the back edge, or there is an outer sheet of colored paper with inside lining paper and a leaf of heavy paper between for stiffening. silk cord is sewn through the holes and neatly tied, and the book is done--light in the hand and lying open well, inexpensive and capable with proper treatment of lasting for centuries. what are the chief defects of the chinese book from an occidental point of view? the most obvious is that it will not stand alone. another is that its covers, being soft, are easily crumpled and dog's-eared. a third is that it is printed on only one side of the paper and therefore wastes space. all these objections must be admitted, but it may be urged with truth that our books, in spite of their relatively costly binding, do not stand alone any too well, and in fact this is a function seldom asked of books anyway. its covers are soft, but this means at least that they are not so hard and foreign to the material of the book as to tear themselves off after a dozen readings, as is the case with so many of our bindings. there is no danger of breaking the back of a chinese book on first opening it, for it has no lining of hard glue. as to the utilization of only one side of the paper, it must be remembered that the chinese paper is very thin, and that this practice makes it possible to secure the advantage of opacity without loading the paper with a foreign and heavy material. moreover, the thickness of the pasteboard cover is saved on the shelves, and even if a substitute for it is adopted, it is in the form of a light pasteboard case that holds several volumes at once. such a cover is capable of being lettered on the back, though the chinese seem not to think this necessary, but put their title labels on the side. really, the back of the chinese book is to us its most foreign feature. it is a raw edge, not protected by the cover, and differs from the front only in consisting of the edges of single leaves instead of folds. it is in fact a survival from the days before the invention of paper, when books were printed on silk, the raw edge of which would fray and was therefore consigned to the position where it would have the least wear and would do the least harm if worn. but there is no reason why, in europeanizing the chinese book, the corner guard should not be extended the whole length of the back and bear the ordinary lettering. with this slight difference the chinese book would be equipped to enter the lists on fairly even terms against the prevailing occidental type of book, which has come down to us from the ancient roman codex through the parchment book, of which ours is only a paper imitation. in "the periodical," referred to, four pages instead of two were printed at once, or, at least, four constitute a fold. the sheets are stitched through with thread--they might, of course, have been wire-stitched--and then a paper cover is pasted on, as in the case of any magazine or paper-bound book. but in this process the beauty of the chinese binding disappears, though the chinese do the same with their cheapest pamphlets. in these days, when lightness and easy handling are such popular features in books, what publisher will take up the book form that for two thousand years has enshrined the wisdom of the flowery kingdom, and by trifling adaptations here and there make it his own and ours? thick paper and thin sir hiram maxim, the knight from maine, prophesies that we shall change our religion twenty times in the next twenty thousand years. in the last two thousand years we have changed our book material twice, from papyrus to parchment and from parchment to paper, with a consequent change of the book form from the roll to the codex. shall we therefore change our book material twenty times in the next twenty thousand years? only time itself can tell; but for five hundred years the book has never been in such unstable equilibrium as at present; the proverb "a book's a book" has never possessed so little definite meaning. this condition applies chiefly to the paper, but as this changes, the binding will also change from its present costly and impermanent character to something at once cheaper and more durable. the changes in modern paper have worked in two opposite directions, represented on the one hand by oxford india paper, with its miraculous thinness, opacity, and lightness, and on the other hand by papers that, while also remarkably light, offer, as a sample book expresses it, "excellent bulk"; for instance, pages to an inch as against to an inch of oxford india paper.[ ] the contrasted effects of these two types of material upon the book as a mechanical product are well worth the consideration of all who are engaged in the making of books. some of these results are surprising. what, for instance, could be more illogical than to make a book any thicker than strength and convenience require? yet one has only to step out into the markets where books and buyers meet to find a real demand for this excess of bulk. though illogical, the demand for size in books is profoundly psychological and goes back to the most primitive instincts of human nature. the first of all organs in biological development, the stomach, will not do its work properly unless it has quantity as well as quality to deal with. so the eye has established a certain sense of relationship between size and value, and every publisher knows that in printing from given plates he can get twice as much for the book at a trifling excess of cost if he uses thicker paper and gives wider margins. that all publishers do not follow these lines is due to the fact that other elements enter into the total field of bookselling besides quantity, the chief of which is cost, and another of which, growing in importance, is compactness. but it is safe to say that to the buyer who is not, for the moment at least, counting the cost, mere bulk makes as great an appeal as any single element of attractiveness in the sum total of a book. this attraction of bulk receives a striking increase if it is associated with lightness. the customer who takes up a large book and suddenly finds it light to hold receives a pleasurable shock which goes far towards making him a purchaser. he seems not to ask or care whether he may be getting few pages for his money. the presence of this single, agreeable element of lightness at once gives a distinction to the book that appears to supplant all other requirements. the purchaser does not realize that the same lightness of volume associated with half the thickness would not seem to him remarkable, though the book would take up only half the room on his shelves. he feels that a modern miracle in defiance of gravitation has been wrought in his favor, and he is willing to pay for the privilege of enjoying it. curiously and somewhat unexpectedly the results of neither extreme, thick paper nor thin, are wholly satisfactory in the library. the parvenu, who is looking only to the filling up of his shelves with volumes of impressive size, may find satisfaction in contemplating wide backs. but the scholar and the public librarian will grudge the space which this "excellent bulk" occupies. one single element in their favor he will be quick to recognize, the better space which they afford for distinct lettering. in a private library that is collected for use and not for show the thin-paper books are almost an unmixed blessing. they cost little for what they contain. their reduction in thickness is often associated with a reduction in height and width, so that they represent an economy of space all round. a first-rate example of this is furnished by the oxford india paper dickens, in seventeen volumes, printed in large type, yet, as bound, occupying a cubical space of only by by - / inches and weighing only nine pounds. a more startling instance is that of the novels of thomas love peacock, which are issued in a pretty library edition of ten volumes. but they are also issued in a _single_ volume, no higher nor wider, and only _three-fourths of an inch thick_. but it is at this point that the public librarian rises to protest. it is all very well, he says, for the private owner to have his literature in this concentrated form, but for himself, how is he to satisfy the eight readers who call for "headlong hall," "nightmare abbey," and the rest of peacock's novels all at once? to be sure he can buy and catalogue eight single-volume sets of the author's works instead of one set in ten volumes, and when he has done this each reader will be sure to find the particular novel that he is looking for so long as a set remains; but the cost will naturally be greater. on the other hand, he welcomes equally with the private buyer the thin-paper edition of the shakespeare apocrypha, which needs only a third of the shelf space required for the regular edition, seven-sixteenths of an inch as against an inch and five-sixteenths. he also looks upon his magazine shelves and sees a volume of the "hibbert journal" with pages in large type occupying the space of a volume of the "independent" with pages in fine type, or again he sees by the side of his thin-paper edition of dickens another on heavy paper occupying more than three times the lineal space with no advantage in clearness of type. by this time he is ready to vote, in spite of the occasional disability of overcompactness, for the book material that will put the least strain upon his crowded shelves. a conference with the booksellers shows him that he is not alone in this conclusion. certain standard works, like the oxford book of english verse and webster's collegiate dictionary, have almost ceased to be sold in any but the thin-paper editions. then there dawns upon him the vision of a library in which all books that have won their way into recognition shall be clothed in this garb of conciseness, and in which all that aspire to that rank shall follow their example. in short he sees what he believes to be the book of the future, which will be as different from the book of the present as that is from the parchment book of the early and middle ages of the christian era, and as different in binding as it is in material. the realization of this vision will involve first of all a readjustment of values on the part of the public, an outgrowing of its childish admiration for bulk. but this change is coming so rapidly under the stress of modern conditions of crowding, especially in city life, as to reduce the vision from its prophetic rank to a case of mere foresight. the clothing of a book the binding of a book is its most conspicuous feature, the part which forms its introduction to the public and by which too often it is judged and valued; yet the binding is not an integral portion of the volume. it may be changed many times without essentially changing the book; but if the printed pages are changed, even for others identical to the eye, the book becomes another copy. the binding is, therefore, a part of a book's environment, though the most intimate part, like our own clothing, to which, indeed, it bears a curious resemblance in its purpose and its perversions. human clothing is for protection and adornment. that of a book involves two other demands mutually so contradictory that bookbinding has always offered a most attractive challenge to the skill of the handicraftsman. the first demand is that the book when closed shall form a well-squared and virtually solid block, like the rectangle of wood from which its first predecessors were split, and shall be able to stand alone, unsupported. the second demand is that this same object, when open, shall lie flat at any point and display all its leaves in turn as fully, and far more conveniently, than if they had never been fastened together. whatever may be true of other clothing, it is eminently true of a book's that the part which really counts is the part which is never seen. only the ornamental portion of a book's covering is exposed. the portions which protect the book and render it at once firm and flexible are out of sight and unheeded by the ordinary reader. hence the existence of so much bookbinding that is apparently good and essentially bad, and hence the perpetual timeliness of attempts like that of the present chapter, to point out what binding is and should be. the processes in bookbinding by which its different ends of utility and ornament are achieved are known under the two heads of forwarding and finishing. forwarding includes many processes, literally "all but the finishing." it is to forwarding that a book owes its shapeliness, its firmness, its flexibility, and its durability. forwarding takes the unfolded and unarranged sheets as delivered by the printer and transforms them into a book complete in all but its outermost covering of cloth or leather. the first process is to fold the sheets and reduce their strange medley of page numbers to an orderly succession. this is assuming that there is a whole edition to be bound. if it consists of a thousand copies, then there will be a certain number of piles of folded sheets, each containing a thousand copies of the same pages printed in groups, let us say, of sixteen each. these groups of pages are called sections or signatures. they are now rearranged, or gathered, into a thousand piles, each containing the signatures that belong to one book. the edition is thus separated into its thousand books, which the collator goes over to see that each is perfect. let us follow the fortunes of a single one. it is not much of a book to look at, being rather a puffy heap of paper, but pressing, rolling, or beating soon reduces it to normal dimensions, and it is then carried forward to the important process of sewing. this is the very heart of the whole work. if the book is badly sewed, it will be badly bound, though a thousand dollars were to be spent upon the decoration of its covering. there is only one best method of sewing, and that is around raised cords, in the way followed by the earliest binders. there are modern machine methods that are very good, but they are only cheap substitutes for the best. the cords must be of good, long-fibered hemp, and the thread of the best quality and the right size drawn to the right degree of tension without missing a sheet. after the sewing the end papers are put in place, the back is glued and rounded, and the mill boards are fitted. into these last the ends of the cords are laced and hammered. the book is then pressed to set its shape, being left in the press for some days or even weeks. after it is taken out, if the edges are to be treated, they are trimmed and then gilded, marbled, sprinkled, or otherwise decorated. the head band--for which many french binders substitute a fold in the leather--is now added. it was formerly twisted as the book was sewn, but at present is too often bought ready-made and simply glued on. the book is now forwarded. the business of the finisher is to cover and protect the work already done on the book, but in such a way as not to interfere with the strength and flexibility that have been gained, and, finally, to add such decoration as may be artistically demanded or within the means of the purchaser. if leather is employed, it must be carefully shaved to give an easily opening hinge, yet not enough to weaken it unnecessarily. this is a most important process and one that must be left largely to the good faith of the binder. if he is unworthy of confidence, his mistakes may long escape notice, but, though buried, they are doomed to an inglorious resurrection, albeit he may count on a sufficient lapse of time to protect himself. the next and last process of finishing is that of the decorator, whose work passes out of the sphere of handicraft into that of art. his problem is no easy one; it is to take a surface of great beauty in itself, as of calf or morocco, and so treat it as to increase its beauty. too often, after he has done his utmost, the surface is less attractive to the eye than it was at the beginning. he, therefore, has a task quite different from that of the painter or sculptor, whose materials are not at the outset attractive. this condition is so strongly felt that many booklovers leave their bindings untooled, preferring the rich sensuous beauty and depth of color in a choice piece of leather to any effect of gilding or inlaying. this initial beauty of the undecorated book does not, however, form an impossible challenge, as witness the work of the eves, le gascon, and the binders of such famous collectors as grolier and de thou. it may be well to consider more particularly what the problem of the book decorator is. though perfectly obvious to the eye and clearly illustrated by the work of the masters, it has been sometimes lost sight of by recent binders. it is, in a word, flat decoration. in the first place he has a surface to work upon that is large enough to allow strength of treatment, yet small enough to admit delicacy; then, whatever in beautiful effects of setting, relief, harmony, and contrast can be brought about by blind tooling, gilding, and inlaying, or by rubbing the surface as in crushed levant, or variegating it as in "tree" or marbled calf, all this he can command. he has control of an infinite variety of forms in tooling; he has only to use them with taste and skill. there is practically no limit to the amount of work that he can put into the binding of a single book, provided that every additional stroke is an additional beauty. he may sow the leather with minute ornament like mearne, or set it off with a few significant lines like aldus or roger payne; all depends upon the treatment. if he is a master, the end will crown the work; if not, then he should have stopped with simple lettering and have left the demands of beauty to be satisfied by the undecorated leather. above all, let every decorator stick to flat ornament. the moment that he ventures into the third dimension, or perspective, that moment he invades the province of the draftsman or painter. one does not care to walk over a rug or carpet that displays a scene in perspective, neither does one wish to gaze into a landscape wrought upon the cover of a book, only to have the illusion of depth dispelled upon opening the volume. embossing is, to be sure, a literal not a pictorial invasion of the third dimension, but its intrusion into that dimension is very slight and involves no cheating of the eye. it has now practically gone out of use, as has the heavy medieval ornamentation of studs or jewels. in cloth covers, which are confessedly edition work and machine made, the rules of ornament need not be so sharply enforced. here embossing still flourishes to some extent. but the decorative problem is essentially the same in cloth as in leather binding, and the best design will be one that triumphs within the conditions, not outside them. the machines and the division of labor have made sad havoc with binding as a craft. the men in america, at least, who are masters of every process and of all the skill and cunning of the early binders are few, and their thinning ranks are not being filled. will bookbinding, in spite of a high economic demand, share the fate that has overtaken engraving, or shall we have a renascence of this fascinating handicraft and delightful art, to take its name from the present era? parchment bindings there are certain things, the autocrat informs us, that are "good for nothing until they have been kept a long while; and some are good for nothing until they have been long kept and _used_. of the first, wine is the illustrious and immortal example. of those which must be kept and used i will name three--meerschaum pipes, violins, and poems." may we present another representative of the class which gathers value with the "process of the suns," one as immortal and historic as wine and even richer in associations--the parchment book cover? in this case it matters not whether the object meets with use or neglect. so long as it is not actually worn to pieces on the one hand, nor destroyed by mold on the other, the parchment binding will keep on converting time into gold, until after a few hundred years it reaches a tint far surpassing in beauty the richest umber of a meerschaum, and approached only by the kindred hue of antique ivory. here is a table full of old parchment-bound books, ranging from a tiny twenty-fourmo, which will stay neither open nor shut, to thin, limp folios that are instantly correspondent to either command. those that are bound with boards have taken on a drumhead quality of smoothness and tension, especially the fat quartos and small octavos, while the larger volumes that received a flexible binding resemble nothing in surface so much as the wrinkled diploma on yonder wall, with its cabalistic signature now to be written no more, carolus-guil. eliot; but all agree in a tint over which artists rave, the color that gold would take if it were capable of stain. but there is no stain here, or rather all stains are taken up and converted into beauty. dust, dirt, smudges, all are here, and each is made to contribute a new element of charm. is the resultant more beautiful than the spotless original? compare it with the pearly tint of the diploma, or turn up the folded edge of one of those flexible bindings and note the chalky white of the parchment's protected under-surface. the same three hundred years that have made over europe and made english america have, as it were, filled in the rhythmic pauses between their giant heart-beats by ripening dr. holmes's wine and touching with midas caress these parchment bindings! it is surely a crime to keep such beauty of tint and tone hidden away in drawers or all but hidden on crowded shelves. let them be displayed in open cases where all may enjoy them. but let us go softly; these century-mellowed parchments are too precious to be displayed to unappreciative, perhaps scornful, eyes. put them away in their hiding-places until some gentle reader of these lines shall ask for them; then we will bring them forth and persuade ourselves that we can detect a new increment of beauty added by the brief time since last we looked on them. i once heard an address on a librarian's duty to his successors. i will suggest a service not there mentioned: to choose every year the best contemporary books that he can find worthily printed on time-proof papers and have them bound in parchment; then let him place them on his shelves to gather gold from the touch of the mellowing years through the centuries to come and win him grateful memory such as we bestow upon the unknown hands that wrought for these volumes the garments of their present and still increasing beauty. lest we forget the few great books one result of the stir that has been made in library matters during the last two generations, and especially during the latter, is the enormous increase in the size of our libraries. in the public libraries of the united states contained a little less than , , volumes. in the five years from to the libraries of , volumes and over added nearly , , volumes, making a total of over , , volumes, an increase of . per cent. in there were libraries of more than volumes each; in there were libraries of over volumes each. in there were only nine libraries containing , volumes or over. these were the library of congress, , ; boston public library, , ; new york mercantile library, , ; harvard college library, , ; astor library, , ; philadelphia mercantile library, , ; house of representatives library, , ; boston athenaeum, , ; library company of philadelphia, , . in there were in this class libraries, or over nine times as many, including libraries of , to , , volumes, a class which did not exist in . meanwhile the individual book remains just what it always was, the utterance of one mind addressed to another mind, and the individual reader has no more hours in the day nor days in his life; he has no more eyes nor hands nor--we reluctantly confess--brains than he had in . but, fast as our libraries grow, not even their growth fully represents the avalanche of books that is every year poured upon the reader's devoted head by the presses of the world. to take only the four countries in whose literature we are most interested we find their annual book publication, for the latest normal year, , to be as follows: germany, , volumes; france, , ; england, , ; america, , . but japan, russia, and italy are each credited with issuing more books annually than either england or the united states, and the total annual book publication of the world is estimated to reach the enormous figure of more than , volumes. in view of this prodigious literary output, what progress can the reader hope to make in "keeping up with the new books"? de quincey figured that a man might possibly, in a long lifetime devoted to nothing else, read , volumes. the estimate is easy. suppose we start with one book a day--surely a large supposition--and count a man's reading years from to , years in all; times is , . this estimate makes no allowance for sundays, holidays, or sickness. yet, small as it is--for there are private libraries containing , volumes--it is manifestly too large. but whatever the sum total may be, whether , or , , let us see, if i may use the expression, what a one must read before he can allow himself to read what he really wants to. first of all we must read the books that form the intellectual tools of our trade, and there is no profession and hardly a handicraft that does not possess its literature. for instance, there are more than ten periodicals in the german language alone devoted exclusively to such a narrow field as beekeeping. such periodicals and such books we do not call literature, any more than we do the labors of the man or woman who supplies the text for butterick's patterns. but they are printed matter, and the reading of them takes up time that we might have spent upon "books that are books." but besides this bread and butter reading there is another sort that we must admit into our lives if we are to be citizens of the world we live in, contemporaries of our own age, men among the men of our time, and that is reading for general information. the time has long since gone by, to be sure, when any man could, like lord bacon, take all knowledge for his province--we can hardly take a bird's-eye view of all knowledge to-day. no amount of reading will ever produce another scaliger, learned in every subject. to be well informed, even in these days of the banyan-like growth of the tree of knowledge, is to be a miracle of erudition. most of mankind must be content with the modest aim which dr. holmes set for the poet, to know enough not to make too many blunders. in carrying out this humble purpose, that of merely touching elbows with the thronging multitude of facts of interest to the civilized man, we have a task great enough to occupy the time of any reader, even if he made it his vocation; and with most of us it must be only a minor avocation. the very books about the books in this boundless field, the compends of the compends, the reviews of the reviews, form in themselves a library great enough to stagger human weakness. besides all this--in a sense a part of it, yet a miscellaneous and irrational part--come the newspapers, with their daily distraction. this is after all our world, and we cannot live in it and be absolute nonconformists. so we must submit to the newspaper, though it makes a heavy addition to our daily load of reading for information. but there is still another kind of necessary reading that i wish to mention before we come to that which ranks chief in importance. the woman who takes out of the public or subscription library a novel a day is only suffering from the perversion of an appetite that in its normal state is beneficial. it is possible that her husband does not read enough for amusement, that his horizon is narrowed, his sympathies stunted by the lack of that very influence which, in excess, unfits his wife for the realities and duties of everyday existence. it came as a surprise to many to learn from tennyson's "life" that the author of "in memoriam" was a great novel reader. but clearly in his case the novel produced no weakening of the mental fiber. president garfield advised the student to mingle with his heavier reading a judicious proportion of fiction. the novel may rank in the highest department of literature and may render the inestimable service of broadening and quickening our sympathies. in this case it belongs to the class of the best books. but i have introduced it here as the most prominent representative of what we may call the literature of recreation. there is a further representative of this class that is peculiarly well fitted to bring refreshment and cheer to the weary and dispirited, and that is humor, which is often also the soundest philosophy. if the reader does not at the outset make provision in his daily reading for the best books, the days and the months will go by, and the unopened volumes will look down upon him from his shelves in dumb reproof of his neglect and reminder of his loss. in truth it is all a matter of the balance of gain. what we rate highest we shall find room for. if we cannot have our spiritual food and satisfy all our other wants, perhaps we shall find that some of our other wants can do with less satisfaction. that we should neglect the material side of life for the spiritual i do not say. but for our encouragement let me quote another estimate of what may be accomplished by persistent reading, and my authority shall be the late professor william mathews, the essayist, an author whose graceful style bears lightly as a flower a weight of learning that would appall, if it did not so delight us. says dr. mathews: did you ever think of the sum total of knowledge that may be accumulated in a decade, or score of years, or a lifetime by reading only pages a day? he who has read but that small amount daily, omitting sundays, has read in a year pages, which is equal to six volumes of pages each, enough to enable one to master a science. in five years he will have read , pages, equivalent to large volumes, or to of the average size. now, we do not hesitate to say that volumes of pages each of history, biography, science, and literature, well chosen, well read, and well digested, will be worth to nine persons out of ten more than the average collegiate education is to the majority of graduates. our case for knowing the best books is, therefore, not hopeless. what we need for the achievement is not genius, but only a moderate amount of forethought and persistence. but who is there that has not tasted the joy of discovering a great book that seemed written for himself alone? if there is such a man, he is to be pitied--unless, indeed, he is to be congratulated on the unimagined pleasure in store for him. discovery is not too strong a word for the feeling of the reader when he lights upon such a world-opening volume. he feels that no one else ever could have had the same appreciation of it, ever really discovered it, that he is the first that ever burst into that silent sea. keats, in his glorious sonnet, "on first looking into chapman's homer," has given the finest of all expressions to this sense of literary discovery. much have i travelled in the realms of gold and many goodly states and kingdoms seen; round many western islands have i been which bards in fealty to apollo hold. oft of one wide expanse had i been told that deep-browed homer ruled as his demesne: yet never did i breathe its pure serene till i heard chapman speak out loud and bold: then felt i like some watcher in the skies when a new planet swims into his ken; or like stout cortez, when with eagle eyes he stared at the pacific--and all his men looked at each other with a wild surmise-- silent, upon a peak in darien. to describe such accessions of spiritual vision we turn instinctively to the narratives of holy writ, to pisgah and its revelation of the promised land, to the ladder at bethel with its angels ascending and descending, and to the lonely seer on patmos with his vision of a new heaven and a new earth. but, questions a listener, do books ever really affect people like this? most assuredly! we have only to turn to biography for the record, if we do not find living witnesses among our friends. it was said of neander that "plato is his idol--his constant watchword. he sits day and night over him; and there are few who have so thoroughly and in such purity imbibed his wisdom." the elder professor torrey, of the university of vermont, found his inspiration, as many another has done, in dante. in his youth he preferred the inferno; in his middle life he rose to the calm heights of the purgatorio; and he used to say with a smile that perhaps the time would come when he should be fitted to appreciate the paradiso. highly interesting is john ruskin's tribute to sir walter scott: it is one of the griefs of my old age that i know scott by heart, but still, if i take up a volume of him, it is not laid down again for the next hour. beside this we may place goethe's testimony, also written in old age: we read many, too many, poor things, thus losing our time and gaining nothing. we should only read what we can admire, as i did in my youth, and as i now do with sir walter scott. i have now begun "rob roy," and i shall read all his romances in succession. all is great--material, import, characters, execution; and then what infinite diligence in the preparatory studies! what truth of detail in the composition! here we see what english history is; what an inheritance to a poet able to make use of it. walter scott is a great genius; he has not his equal; and we need not wonder at the extraordinary effect he has produced on the reading world. he gives me much to think of; and i discover in him a wholly new art with laws of its own. of goethe himself carlyle confessed that the reading of his works made him understand what the methodists mean by a new birth. those who are familiar with the speeches and writings of daniel webster realize the inspiration that he owed to the grandeur of milton. his great rival, calhoun, honored everywhere as a statesman, was known in his own home as "the old man of the bible." it was the reading of the bible that equipped john bunyan to become the author of "pilgrim's progress." the novelists have not failed to recognize the influence of some single book on a human life. it was the accidental possession of a folio volume of shakespeare--in blackmore's "lorna doone"--that transformed john ridd from a hulking countryman to a man of profound acquaintance with the world. and who does not remember gabriel betteridge, the simple-hearted old steward in wilkie collins's "moonstone," who finds for every occurrence a text to counsel or console in his favorite "robinson crusoe"? as the experience of professor torrey shows, different books appeal to us most strongly at different ages. young men read shelley, old men read wordsworth. in youth "hamlet" is to us the greatest of all plays; in old age, "lear." i know of no more interesting account of the development of a mind in the choice of books than that presented in john beattie crozier's autobiographical volume entitled "my inner life." the author is an english philosopher, who was born and lived until manhood in the backwoods of canada. he tells us how as a young man groping about for some clew to the mystery of the world in which he found himself, he tried one great writer after another--mill, buckle, carlyle, emerson--all to no purpose, for he was not ready for them. at this period he read with great profit the "recreations of a country parson," which, as he says, "gave me precisely the grade and shade of platitude i required." but more important were the weekly sermons of henry ward beecher. of him crozier says: for years his printed sermons were the main source of my instruction and delight. his range and variety of observation ... his width of sympathy; his natural and spontaneous pathos; the wealth of illustration and metaphor with which his sermons were adorned, and which were drawn chiefly from natural objects, from his orchard, his farm, his garden, as well as from machinery and from all kinds of natural processes; his naturalism and absence of theological bias; his knowledge of average men and their ways of looking at things; in a word, his general fertility of thought, filling up, as it did, the full horizon of my mind, and running over and beyond it on all sides, so that wherever i looked he had been there before me--all this delighted and enchanted me, and made him for some years my ideal of intellectual greatness; and i looked forward to the saturdays on which his weekly sermons reached me with longing and pure joy. later, in england, crozier took up the works of the philosophers with better success. the chapter of most interest for us is the one on the group which he calls "the poetic thinkers"--carlyle, newman, emerson, goethe. of these he places goethe and emerson highest. indeed of emerson's essay on "experience" he says: in this simple framework emerson has contrived to work in thoughts on human life more central and commanding, more ultimate and final, and of more universal application than are to be found within the same compass in the literature of any age or time, thoughts which rise to the mind as naturally and spontaneously when the deeper secrets of life are in question, as proverbs do in its more obvious and superficial aspects.... nowhere, indeed, will you find greater penetration and profundity, or greater refinement and delicacy than in these essays (of emerson).... after a lapse of ten or fifteen years ... no increase of experience or reflection has enabled me to add or suggest aught by way of commentary on these great and penetrating observations on human life that is not either more superficial or less true.... until emerson is understood, no observer of human life making any pretension to originality can, in my judgment, consider his reputation safe, or his work free from the danger of being undermined by this great master of human thought. if some scholar on whose judgment we relied were to speak in these terms of a book that was only to be read in persian or icelandic, how cheerfully we should bend ourselves to the task of learning these difficult tongues for the sake of the reward--the possession of the coveted thought. but the writings of emerson are in our own language and accessible in the cheapest editions. if to us personally emerson does not make this supreme appeal, there are other writers, all at hand, set apart from the great multitude of lesser spirits by that final weigher of human talents whom bacon calls good fame. it is not that among the myriad volumes of a library we must painfully and largely by accident discover the few of highest worth--scanning each doubtfully as one searches for an unknown visitor in the crowd alighting from a train. no, the best books are the best known, the most accessible. lists of the ten, the fifty, the one hundred best books are at our disposal, and, if they do not always represent final judgments, are near enough for practical purposes. the will to read the best books is all that we need to supply--the rest has been done for us. and is there anyone who turns with indifference from the high and free privilege of making the greatest spirits that have ever lived his bosom friends, his companions and counselors? if there be such a one, would that i might repeat to him more of that glorious chant in praise of books that has been sung by the wise of all ages, from socrates to gladstone. i have given a few of these tributes already; i will close with one from an unexpected source. says walt whitman, in his "democratic vistas," speaking of the books that have come down to us from antiquity: a few immortal compositions, small in size, yet compassing what measureless values of reminiscence, contemporary portraitures, manners, idioms and beliefs, with deepest inference, hint and thought, to tie and touch forever the old, new body, and the old, new soul. these! and still these! bearing the freight so dear--dearer than pride--dearer than love. all the best experience of humanity folded, saved, freighted to us here! some of these tiny ships we call old and new testament, homer, eschylus, plato, juvenal, etc. precious minims! i think if we were forced to choose, rather than have you, and the likes of you, and what belongs to and has grown of you, blotted out and gone, we could better afford, appalling as that would be, to lose all actual ships, this day fastened by wharf, or floating on wave, and see them, with all their cargoes, scuttled and sent to the bottom. gathered by geniuses of city, race or age, and put by them in highest of art's forms, namely, the literary form, the peculiar combinations, and the outshows of that city, age or race, its particular modes of the universal attributes and passions, its faiths, heroes, lovers and gods, wars, traditions, struggles, crimes, emotions, joys (or the subtle spirit of these) having been passed on to us to illumine our own selfhood, and its experiences--what they supply, indispensable and highest, if taken away, nothing else in all the world's boundless storehouses could make up to us, or ever again return. printing problems for science to solve the book seems to have been regarded for hundreds of years--for thousands of years if we include its prototypes--as a thing apart, subject to its own laws of beauty, utility, and economy. but recently men have come to realize that the book has no special esthetic license, that what is barbarous art elsewhere is barbarous in the book; they also recognize that the book is within the domain of economics, that the invention of typography was primarily a reduction of cost, and that a myriad later processes, which make the book what it is to-day, are all developments of the same principle. what has not been so clearly seen is that in the field of utility the book is not independent, cannot impose conditions upon its users, but is an instrument strictly subordinate to human needs. the establishment of its efficiency has only begun when we have adapted it to the convenience of the hand and the bookshelf. the real tests of its utility are subtle, not gross, and are, in fact, beyond the range of ordinary haphazard experience. in this field popular judgment may be right or wrong; it offers merely an opinion, which it cannot prove. but here that higher power of common sense that we call science comes in and gives verdicts that take account of all the elements involved and can be verified. rather this is what science has not yet done for printing, or has done only in part, but which we confidently expect it is about to do. what then are some of the points that we may call in science to settle? we know surely that fine type, bad presswork, pale ink on gray paper are all bad for the eyes. but there are a host of other matters connected with printing, we may even say most matters, in regard to which our knowledge is either uncertain or indefinite. in respect to this whole range of practical printing subjects we want to know just what practice is the best and by what percentage of superiority. this quantitative element in the solution is of great importance, for when rival considerations, the esthetic, the economic, for instance, plead for one choice as against another, we shall know just how much sacrifice of utility is involved. the tests for which we look to science cover everything that goes to make up the physical side of the book. the tests themselves, however, are psychological, for the book makes its appeal to the mind through one of the senses, that of sight, and therefore its adaptedness to the manifold peculiarities of human vision must be the final criterion of its utility. beginning with the material basis of the book--paper--most readers are sure that both eggshell and glaze finish are a hindrance to easy reading and even hurtful to the eyes; but which is worse and how much? is there any difference as regards legibility between antique and medium plate finish, and which is better and by what percentage? in regard to the color as well as the surface of paper we are largely at sea. we realize that contrast between paper and ink is necessary, but is the greatest contrast the best? is the blackest black on the whitest white better, for instance, than blue-black on buff-white, and how much? is white on black not better than black on white, and, if so, in what exact degree? or is the real solution to be found in some other color contrast as yet untried? the very mention of some of these possibilities shocks our prejudices and stirs our conservatism to revolt in advance; yet, with or against our will, we may be perfectly sure that the changes which science finally pronounces imperative will be made. who can tell what is the normal length of line for legibility, or whether there is one, and whether there is an ideal size of type, or what it is? are the newspapers, for instance, right as to length of line and the books as to size of type, as many suppose? has each size of type a length of line normal to it? how is this affected by leading, or is leading merely of imaginary value? is large type desirable for the schoolbooks of the youngest children, and may the type be made smaller, down to a certain limit, without harm, as the children grow older, or is there one ideal size for all ages? it is frankly recognized that in certain works, like editions of the poets, legibility may properly be sacrificed in some degree to beauty, and in certain reference works, again, to economy of space; but we should like to know, as we do not now with any exactness, what amount of legibility is surrendered. it is easy, however, to see that one great battleground of controversy in any suggested reforms must be the design of the type itself. here, fortunately, the english public starts with a great advantage. we have thrown overboard our old black letter with its dazzling contrasts of shading and its fussy ornament, and therefore can begin where the germans must some day leave off. we have no accents or other diacritical marks, and in this respect are superior to the french also. we start with a fairly extended and distinct letter like caslon for our norm, but even so the problem is in the highest degree complex and baffling. first, accepting the traditional forms of the letters, we must determine whether light or heavy, even or shaded, condensed or extended letters are the more legible, and always in what proportion. we shall then be in a position to decide the relative standing of the various commercial types, if such we find, that fairly well meet the conditions. it will also be obvious what changes can be introduced to improve the types that stand highest. by and by the limit of improvement will be reached under the traditional forms of the letters. it will next be the task of science to show by what modifications or substitutions the poorest letters, such as s z e a x o can be brought up to the visibility of the best letters, such as m w d j l p. some of these changes may be slight, such as shortening the overhang of the a and slanting the bar of the e, while others may involve forms that are practically new. it is worth remembering at this point that while our capital letters are strictly roman, our small or lowercase letters came into being during the middle ages, and many of them would not be recognized by an ancient roman as having any relation to his alphabet. they therefore belong to the modern world and can be altered without sacrilege. there will remain other problems to be solved, such as the use of capitals at all; punctuation, whether to keep our present practice or to devise a better; the use of spacing between paragraphs, words, and even letters; besides numerous problems now hardly guessed. many of the conclusions of science will be openly challenged, but such opposition is easiest to overcome. harder to meet will be the opposition of prejudice, one of whose favorite weapons is always ridicule. but the results of science in the field of printing, as in every other, are sure to make their way into practice, and here their beneficent effect in the relief of eye strain and its consequent nervous wear and in the saving of time is beyond our present power to calculate or even imagine. the world at the end of the twentieth century will be a different world from this, a far better world, we trust; and one of the potent influences in bringing about that improvement will then be traced, we are confident, to the fact that, near the beginning of the century, science was called in to solve those problems of the book that belong to the laboratory rather than to the printing office. types and eyes: the problem our modern world submits with an ill grace to the nuisance of spectacles, but flatters itself that after all they afford a measure of civilization. thirty-five years ago dr. Ã�mile javal, a parisian oculist, contested this self-complacent inference, believing the terrible increase of near sight among school children to be due rather to a defect than to an excess of civilization. he conceived that the trouble must lie in the material set for the eye to work upon, namely, the printed page. he therefore instituted a series of experiments to discover its defects from the point of view of hygiene. being an oculist, he naturally adopted the test of distance to determine the legibility of single letters at the limit of vision, and he employed the oculist's special type. his conclusions cover a wide range. he decided that paper with a slightly buff tint printed with an ink tinged with blue was the most agreeable combination for the eye, though in absolute clearness nothing can surpass the contrast of black upon white. he held that leading is no advantage to clearness, and that it would be better to print the same words on the page in a larger type unleaded. he found the current type too condensed; this is particularly a fault of french type. but he favored spacing between the letters of a word, a conclusion in which he has not been followed by later investigators. he found shaded type a disadvantage and advocated a fairly black type in which all the lines are of uniform thickness. but most interesting are his conclusions regarding the letters themselves. he found that the eye in reading follows a horizontal line which cuts the words just below the tops of the short letters, the parts of the letters being indistinct in proportion as they are distant from this line. it is chiefly by their individuality on this line that letters acquire distinctness. but just here he found that an unfortunate tendency towards uniformity had been at work, flattening the rounded letters and rounding the square letters. in a series of articles he gives exhaustive studies of the various letters, their characteristics, and their possible reform. [illustration: these ten-point lines in della robbia of the american type founders company include the principal elements of reform advocated by dr. javal, as well as others mentioned below] a few years later dr. cattell, now a professor in columbia, but then an investigator in wundt's psychological laboratory in leipsic, made a series of studies on brain and eye inertia in the recognition of letters. like dr. javal he found some alphabets harder to see than others and the letters of the same alphabet different in legibility. he saw no advantage in having a mixture of capital and small letters. he condemned shading in types and opposed all ornament as an element of confusion. he regarded punctuation marks as hard to see and proposed that they should be displaced, or at least supplemented, by spaces between the words corresponding to the pause in the thought or the utterance. he tested the letters by their legibility when seen for a small fraction of a second through a narrow slit in a falling screen. beginning with the capitals, he found that out of two hundred and seventy trials for each letter, w was recognized two hundred and forty-one times and e only sixty-three times, the former being much more distinct and the latter much less distinct than any other. some letters, like s and c, were found hard to recognize in themselves, and certain groups of letters, such as o, q, g, and c, were constantly confused with one another. said dr. cattell, "if i should give the probable time wasted each day through a single letter, as e, being needlessly illegible, it would seem almost incredible; and, if we could calculate the necessary strain put upon eye and brain, it would be still more appalling." in regard to the small letters he found a like difference in legibility. out of one hundred trials d was read correctly eighty-seven times, s only twenty-eight times. he found s, g, c, and x particularly hard to recognize by reason of their form; and certain pairs and groups were sources of confusion. the group of slim letters, i, j, l, f, t, is an instance. he suggested that a new form of l, perhaps the greek [greek: l], should be adopted; and he advocated the dropping of the dot from the i, as in greek. he made experiments upon the german as well as the roman alphabet, but he found the former so bad that he could only advise giving it up altogether. somewhat later, in , mr. e. c. sanford, now president of clark college, published in the "american journal of psychology" an exhaustive study on "the relative legibility of the small letters." he studied simply the letter forms, to determine the order of legibility in the alphabet and the groups most liable to confusion, in order to discover what letters most need improvement and upon what clearness depends. he too employed a special type. he found the order under the distance test to be w m q p v y j f h r d g k b x l n u a t i z o c s e, and the order under the time test m w d q v y j p k f b l i g h r x t o u a n e s c z. it will be noticed that of the seven letters most largely represented in a full font of type, e t a i n o s, all fall in the last third of one or the other of these two groups, four are there in both groups, while e, the letter used most of all, stands at the very foot of the list in the distance group. could there be any clearer call for the reform of our letters? mr. sanford enters at length into the question of the points that help and hinder legibility and that should therefore be considered in reforming the shapes of letters. enlargement of size and increase of differences are obvious aids to clearness. simplicity of outline and concentration of peculiarity upon one feature are important elements of legibility. even a letter of small size, like v, is brought into the first group by a combination of these two qualities. serifs are necessary to prevent irradiation, or an overflowing of the white on the black, but they should be stubby; if long, they take on the character of ornament and become confusing. the letters g and a are complicated without being distinctive and are therefore continually confused with other letters. the c e o group of much used letters can be made less liable to confusion if the gap on the right of the first two letters is made wider and the line of the e slants downward as in jenson. another group, a n u, are confused together. to avoid this the top and bottom openings of n and u should be made as open as possible and the a should go back to the old script form =a= as in the humanistic type. the letter s is a source of great difficulty, being either not recognized at all in the tests or confused with other letters. it will be remembered that franklin greatly deprecated the giving up of the long f, and a return to this form is now suggested, care being taken, of course, to differentiate it from f, especially by carrying it below the line. the dot of the i is of no use when the letter stands alone, but it is an important element of distinctness in words like "minim." the dot, as dr. javal suggests, should be set on a level with the top of the l rather than on a level with the top of the t. a reduction of serifs would lessen the confusion of x and z and of s and z. but it is unnecessary to trace these studies in all their minutiae. in the twenty-eight years that have followed the appearance of mr. sanford's article work along the same lines has been done by many investigators in various countries. some of the conclusions that we have noticed have been sustained, others have been discredited. the most important conclusions of the investigators down to will be found scattered through the pages of huey's "psychology and pedagogy of reading," which appeared in that year. such matters as the normal length of a line of print, the size of type appropriate to schoolbooks for children of different ages, the possibilities of future type design with reference solely to the reader's needs, are among the many subjects there set forth in an interesting fashion. in all these studies one obvious subject of investigation appears to have been overlooked, and that is the actual types of everyday print. do they vary greatly in legibility? are some of them so bad that they ought to be rejected _in toto_? on the other hand, have the designers of certain types attained by instinct or by happy accident a degree of legibility that approximates the best to be hoped for? if so, can we trace the direction to be followed in seeking further improvement? to answer these questions an extended investigation was undertaken at clark university in by miss barbara elizabeth roethlein under the direction of professor john wallace baird. her results were published by clark university library in january, , under the title "the relative legibility of different faces of printing types." the pamphlet abounds in tables made clear by the use of the very types under consideration. the following are the conclusions reached: . certain faces of type are much more legible than other faces; and certain letters of every face are much more legible than other letters of the same face. . these differences in legibility prove to be greater when letters are presented in isolation from one another than when they are presented in groups. . legibility is a product of six factors: ( ) the form of the letter; ( ) the size of the letter; ( ) the heaviness of the face of the letter (the thickness of the lines which constitute the letter); ( ) the width of the white margin which surrounds the letter; ( ) the position of the letter in the letter group; ( ) the shape and size of the adjacent letters. in our experiments the first factor seemed to be less significant than any of the other five; that is, in the type-faces which were employed in the present investigation the form of any given letter of the alphabet usually varied between such narrow limits as to constitute a relatively insignificant factor in the determination of its legibility. . the relatively heavy-faced types prove to be more legible than the light-faced types. the optimal heaviness of face seems to lie in a mean between the bold faces and such light faces as scotch roman and cushing monotone. . the initial position in a group of letters is the most advantageous position for legibility; the final position comes next in order of advantage; and the intermediate or internal positions are least favorable for legibility. . the size and the form of the letters which stand adjacent to any given letter play an important role in determining its legibility; and the misreadings which occur in the case of grouped letters are of a wholly different sort from those which occur in the case of isolated letters. when letters of the same height or of similar form appear side by side, they become relatively illegible. but the juxtaposition of an ascender, a descender and a short letter tends to improve the legibility of each, as also does the juxtaposition of letters which are made up wholly or chiefly of straight lines and letters which are made up wholly or chiefly of curved lines. . the quality and the texture of the paper is a much less significant factor than has been supposed, provided, of course, that the illumination and the inclination of the paper are such as to secure an optimal condition of light reflection from its surface. . there is an urgent need for modification of certain letters of the alphabet. contrary to previous results with special types, these tests of commercial types represent the capitals as more legible, by about one-fifth, than the lowercase letters; but, in view of the much greater bigness and heaviness of capitals, the earlier judgment would seem to be supported so far as the letter forms of the two classes are concerned. the order of each class, taking an average of all the faces, is as follows: w m l j i a t c v q p d o y u f h x g n z k e r b s m w d j l p f q y i h g b k v r t n c u o x a e z s. considering only the lowercase letters, which represent nine-tenths of the print that meets the eye, we still have four of the most used letters, s e a o, in the lowest fourth of the group, while s in both sizes of type and in all faces stands at the bottom. the average legibility of the best and worst is: w, . ; s, . ; m, . ; s, . . the tests were by distance; the letters were all ten-point of the various faces; and the figures represent the distance in centimeters at which the letters were recognized. there is a satisfaction in being assured that the range between the best and the worst is not so great as had been estimated previously, the proportion being in the one case not quite : and in the other not quite : . . the following twenty-six widely different faces of type were studied: american typewriter bold antique bulfinch caslon oldstyle no. century oldstyle century oldstyle, bold century expanded cheltenham oldstyle cheltenham bold cheltenham bold, condensed cheltenham italic cheltenham wide clearface clearface italic clearface bold clearface bold italic cushing no. cushing oldstyle no. cushing monotone della robbia devinne no. devinne no. , italic franklin gothic jenson oldstyle no. news gothic ronaldson oldstyle no. of these, omitting the boldface and italic types, as well as all capitals, the six best text types, ranging in average distance of recognition from . to . , are news gothic, bulfinch, clearface, century oldstyle, century expanded, and cheltenham wide. the six worst, ranging from . to . , are cheltenham oldstyle, devinne no. , american typewriter, caslon oldstyle, cushing monotone, and cushing no. . the author says, commenting on these findings: if legibility is to be our sole criterion of excellence of typeface, news gothic must be regarded as our nearest approximation to an ideal face, in so far as the present investigation is able to decide this question. the esthetic factor must always be taken into account, however, here as elsewhere. and the reader who prefers the appearance of cushing oldstyle or a century face may gratify his esthetic demands without any considerable sacrifice of legibility. to what extent these conclusions may be modified by future experiments it is, of course, impossible to predict, but they clearly point the way towards definiteness and boldness in the design of types as well as to a preference for the larger sizes in their use. all this, as we shall see in the next chapter, is in harmony with what experience has been gradually confirming in the practice of the last generation. types and eyes: progress the late john bartlett, whose "familiar quotations" have encircled the globe, once remarked to a youthful visitor that it was a source of great comfort to him that in collecting books in his earlier years he had chosen editions printed in large type, "for now," he said, "i am able to read them." the fading eyesight of old age does not necessarily set the norm of print; but this is certain, that what age reads without difficulty youth will read without strain, and in view of the excessive burden put upon the eyes by the demands of modern life, it may be worth while to consider whether it is not wise to err on the safer side as regards the size of type, even by an ample margin. it is now some thirty-five years since the first scientific experiments upon the relations of type to vision were made in france and germany. it was peculiarly fitting, we may remark, that the investigation should have started in those two countries, for the german alphabet is notoriously hard on the eyes, and the french alphabet is encumbered with accents, which form an integral part of the written word, and yet are always minute and in poor print exceedingly hard to distinguish. the result of the investigation was a vigorous disapproval of the german type itself and of the french accents and the favorite style of letter in france, the condensed. it was pointed out that progress in type design towards the hygienic ideal must follow the direction of simplicity, uniformity, and relative heaviness of line, with wide letters and short descenders, all in type of sufficient size for easy reading. in the generation that has succeeded these experiments have we made any progress in adapting print to eyes along the lines of these conclusions? the printer might well offer in proof of such progress the page in which these words are presented to the reader. in the four and a half centuries of printing, pages of equal clearness and beauty may be found if one knows just where to look for them, but the later examples all fall within the period that we are discussing. it may be objected that this is the luxury of printing, not its everyday necessity, and this objection must be allowed; but luxuries are a powerful factor in elevating the standard of living, and this is as true of print as of food and dress. it must be confessed that an unforeseen influence made itself felt early in the generation under discussion, that of william morris and his kelmscott press. morris's types began and ended in the gothic or germanic spirit, and their excellence lies rather in the beauty of each single letter than in the effective mass-play of the letters in words. kelmscott books, therefore, in spite of their decorative beauty, are not easy reading. in this respect they differ greatly from those of bodoni,[ ] whose types to morris and his followers appeared weak and ugly. bodoni's letters play together with perfect accord, and his pages, as a whole, possess a statuesque if not a decorative beauty. if the reader is not satisfied with the testimony of the page now before him, let him turn to the bodoni horace of , in folio, where, in addition to the noble roman text of the poems, he will find an extremely clear and interesting italic employed in the preface, virtually a "library hand" script. but no force has told more powerfully for clearness and strength in types than the influence of morris, and if he had done only this for printing he would have earned our lasting gratitude. morris held that no type smaller than long primer should ever be employed in a book intended for continuous reading; and here again, in size of type as distinguished from its cut, he made himself an exponent of one of the great forward movements that have so happily characterized the recent development of printing. go to any public library and look at the novels issued from to . unless your memory is clear on this point, you will be amazed to see what small print certain publishers inflicted with apparent impunity on their patrons during this period. the practice extended to editions of popular authors like dickens and thackeray, editions that now find no readers, or find them only among the nearsighted. the cheap editions of the present day, on the contrary, may be poor in paper and perhaps in presswork, they may be printed from worn plates, but in size and even in cut of type they are generally irreproachable. as regards nearsighted readers, it is well known that they prefer fine type to coarse, choosing, for instance, a bible printed in diamond, and finding it clear and easy to read, while they can hardly read pica at all. this fact, in connection with the former tolerance of fine print, raises the question whether the world was not more nearsighted two generations ago than it is now; or does this only mean that the oculist is abroad in the land? it is recognized that, in books not intended for continuous reading, small and even fine type may properly be employed. that miracle of encyclopedic information, the world almanac, while it might be printed better and on a higher quality of paper, could not be the handy reference book that it is without the use of a type that would be intolerably small in a novel or a history. with the increase of the length of continuous use for which the book is intended, the size of the type should increase up to a certain point. above eleven-point, or small pica, however, increase in the size of type becomes a matter not of hygiene, but simply of esthetics. but below the normal the printer's motto should be: in case of doubt choose the larger type. a development of public taste that is in line with this argument is the passing of the large-paper edition. it was always an anomaly; but our fathers did not stop to reason that, if a page has the right proportions at the start, mere increase of margin cannot enhance its beauty or dignity. at most it can only lend it a somewhat deceptive appearance of costliness, with which was usually coupled whatever attraction there might be in the restriction of this special edition to a very few copies. so they paid many dollars a pound for mere blank paper and fancied that they were getting their money's worth. the most inappropriate books were put out in large paper, webster's unabridged dictionary, for instance. at the other extreme of size may be cited the pickering diamond classics, also in a large-paper edition, pretty, dainty little books, with their lilliputian character only emphasized by their excess of white paper. but their print is too fine to read, and their margins are out of proportion to the printed page. though their type is small, they by no means exhibit the miracle of the books printed in didot's "microscopic" type, and they represent effort in a direction that has no meaning for bookmaking, but remains a mere _tour de force_. quite different is the case with the oxford miniature editions, of the same size outwardly as the large-paper editions of the pickering diamond classics; these are modern miracles, for with all their "infinite riches in a little room," they are distinctly legible. as regards the design of type, the recent decades have given us our choice among type-faces at once so beautiful and so clear as the century oldstyle, century expanded, and cheltenham wide. to those should be added mr. goudy's virile kennerley. still later have appeared, in direct descent from one of jenson's type-faces, cloister and centaur, two of the most beautiful types of any age or country, and both, if we may judge by comparison with the types approved by the clark university experiments, also among the most legible. fortunately in type design there is no essential conflict between beauty and use, but rather a natural harmony. already a high degree of legibility has been attained without sacrifice; the future is full of promise. in respect to books, we may congratulate ourselves that printing has made real progress in the last generation towards meeting the primary demand of legibility. the form of print, however, which is read by the greatest number of eyes, the newspaper, shows much less advance. yet newspapers have improved in presswork, and the typesetting machines have removed the evil of worn type. moreover, a new element has come to the front that played a much more subordinate part three or four decades ago--the headline. "let me write the headlines of a people," said the late henry d. lloyd to the writer, "and i care not who makes its laws." it is the staring headlines that form the staple of the busy man's newspaper reading, and they are certainly hygienic for the eyes if not always for the mind. while the trend towards larger and clearer type has gone on chiefly without the consciousness of the public, it has not been merely a reform imposed from without. the public prefers readable print, demands it, and is ready to pay for it. the magazines have long recognized this phase of public taste. when the newspapers have done the same, the eyes of coming generations will be relieved of a strain that can only be realized by those who in that day shall turn as a matter of antiquarian curiosity to the torturing fine print that so thickly beset the pathway of knowledge from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, and, in the twentieth, overthrown in the field of books and magazines, made its last, wavering stand in the newspapers. exceptions to the rule of legibility since print is meant primarily to be read, the first law of its being is legibility. as a general principle this must be accepted, but in the application certain important reservations must be made, all relating themselves to the question _how_ the print is to be read. for straightaway, long-time reading, or for reading in which the aim is to get at the words of the author with the least hindrance, the law of legibility holds to its full extent--is, in fact, an axiom; but not all reading is long-continued, and not all is apart from considerations other than instantaneous contact with the author's thought through his words. it is these two classes of exceptions that we have now to consider. let us begin with an example outside the field of typography. on the first issue of the lincoln cent were various sizes of lettering, the largest being devoted to the words which denote the value of the coin, and the smallest, quite undistinguishable in ordinary handling, to the initials of the designer, afterwards discarded. obviously these sizes were chosen with reference to their power to attract attention; in the one case an excess of legibility and in the other case, quite as properly, its deficiency. thus, what is not designed for the cursory reader's eye, but serves only as a record to be consulted by those who are specially interested in it, may, with propriety, be made so inconspicuous as to be legible only by a distinct effort. cases in everyday typography are the signatures of books and the cabalistic symbols that indicate to the newspaper counting room the standing of advertisements. both are customarily rendered inconspicuous through obscure position, and if to this be added the relative illegibility of fine type, the average reader will not complain, for all will escape his notice. again, we may say that what is not intended for ordinary continuous reading may, without criticism, be consigned to type below normal size. certain classes of books that are intended only for brief consultation come under this head, the best examples being encyclopedias, dictionaries, and almanacs. as compactness is one of their prime requisites, it is a mistake to put them into type even comfortably large. the reader opens them only for momentary reference, and he can well afford to sacrifice a certain degree of legibility to handiness. the encyclopædia britannica is a classic instance of a work made bulky by type unnecessarily coarse for its purpose; the later, amazingly clear, photographic reduction of the britannica volumes is a recognition of this initial mistake. the century and oxford dictionaries, on the other hand, are splendid examples of the judicious employment of fine print for the purpose both of condensation and the gradation of emphasis. one has only to contrast with these a similar work in uniform type, such as littré's dictionnaire, to appreciate their superiority for ready reference. the departure from legibility that we have thus far considered has related to the size of the letters. another equally marked departure is possible in respect to their shape. in business printing, especially in newspaper advertisements, men are sometimes tempted to gain amount at the risk of undue fineness of type. but no advertiser who counts the cost will take the chance of rendering his announcement unreadable by the use of ornamental or otherwise imperfectly legible letters. he sets no value upon the form save as a carrier of substance. in works of literature, on the contrary, form may take on an importance of its own; it may even be made tributary to the substance at some cost to legibility. in this field there is room for type the chief merit of which is apart from its legibility. in other words, there is and always will be a place for beauty in typography, even though it involve a certain loss of clearness. as related to the total bulk of printing, works of this class never can amount to more than a fraction of one per cent. but their proportion in the library of a cultivated man would be vastly greater, possibly as high as fifty per cent. in such works the esthetic sense demands not merely that the type be a carrier of the alphabet, but also that it interpret or at least harmonize with the subject-matter. who ever saw mr. updike's specimen pages for an edition of the "imitatio christi," in old english type, without a desire to possess the completed work? yet we have editions of the "imitatio" that are far more legible and convenient. the "prayers" of dr. samuel johnson have several times been published in what we may call tribute typography; but no edition has yet attained to a degree of homage that satisfies the lovers of those unaffected devotional exercises. what, therefore, shall be the typography of books that we love, that we know by heart? in them, surely, beauty and fitness may precede legibility unchallenged. these are the books that we most desire and cherish; this is the richest field for the typographic artist, and one that we venture to pronounce, in spite of all that has yet been done, still almost untilled. such books need not be expensive; we can imagine a popular series that should deserve the name of tribute typography. certain recent editions of the german classics, perhaps, come nearer to justifying such a claim than any contemporary british or american work. in more expensive publications some of mr. mosher's work, like his quarto edition of burton's "kasîdah," merits a place in this class. a better known, if older, instance is the holiday edition of longfellow's "skeleton in armor." who would not rather read the poem in this old english type than in any roman type in which it has ever been printed? the work of the kelmscott press obviously falls within this class. the truth is, there is a large body of favorite literature which we are glad to be made to linger over, to have, in its perusal, a brake put upon the speed of our reading; and in no way can this be done so agreeably as by a typography that possesses a charm of its own to arrest the eye. such a delay increases while it prolongs the pleasure of our reading. the typography becomes not only a frame to heighten the beauty of the picture, but also a spell to lengthen our enjoyment of it. it cannot be expected that the use of impressive type will be confined to literature. that worthiest use will find the field already invaded by pamphlet and leaflet advertisements, and this invasion is certain to increase as the public taste becomes trained to types that make an esthetic appeal of their own. ordinary type is the result of an attempt to combine with legibility an all-round fitness of expression. but that very universality robs it of special appropriateness for works of a strongly marked character. it is impossible to have a new type designed for every new work, but classes of types are feasible, each adapted to a special class of literature. already there is a tendency to seek for poetry a type that is at least removed from the commonplace. but hitherto the recognition of this principle has been only occasional and haphazard. where much is to be gained much also can be lost, and interpretative or expressional typography that misses the mark may easily be of a kind to make the judicious grieve. but the rewards of success warrant the risk. the most beautiful of recent types, the new humanistic, designed for the university press, has hardly yet been used. let us hope that it may soon find its wider mission so successfully as to furnish an ideal confirmation of the principle that we have here been seeking to establish. the student and the library what does a student of five and twenty years ago still remember of his college? my own first and fondest recollection is of the walks and talks, _noctes coenaeque deum_, with loved and honored companions, in the bonds of a friendship that can be realized only in youth, under the inspiration of a common intellectual purpose, and, one is tempted to add, in the atmosphere of college halls; next arise golden hours passed in the library; and lastly there come back other hours, not always golden, spent in the classroom. this is, of course, only to enumerate the three influences that are, or should be, strongest in a student's life: the society of his fellows, his private reading, and his studies. of these three factors of culture the first and the last are fairly constant, but the second is apt to vary in the experience of any small group of students from the foremost place, as in the case of john hay, to no place at all. it is of this varying element in the student's conduct of life that i have undertaken to write. unless student intercourse has an intellectual basis, such as reading furnishes, it has nothing to distinguish it from any other good fellowship and can hardly escape triviality. the little groups of students at cambridge which included such members as the three tennysons, hallam, spedding, fitzgerald, and thackeray, while they were no doubt jovial enough, were first of all intellectual associations, where thought leapt out to wed with thought ere thought could wed itself with speech. in such companionship men not only share and correct the culture which they have acquired in private, but they are stimulated to higher and wider attainment. the classroom at its best is hardly equal to a good book; from its very nature it must address an abstract average rather than the individual, while a good book startles us with the intimacy of its revelation to ourselves. the student goes to college to study; he has his name thence. but while the classroom is busied, patiently, sedulously doling him out silver, he discovers that there is gold lying all around, which he may take without asking. twenty-five years after he finds that the silver has grown black with rust, while the gold shines on untarnished. librarians are often besought for a guide in reading, a set of rules, a list of books. but what is really needed, and what no mentor can give, is a hunger and thirst after what is in books; and this the student must acquire for himself or forego the blessing. culture cannot be vicarious. this is not to say that a list of books may not be useful, or that one set of books is as good as another, but only that reading is the thing, and, given the impulse to read, the how and the what can be added unto it; but without this energizing motive, no amount of opportunity or nurture will avail. but, having not the desire to read, but only a sense that he ought to have it, what shall a student do? i will suggest three practicable courses from which a selection may be made according to the needs of the individual. the first is to sit down and take account of stock, to map out one's knowledge, one's previous reading, and so find the inner boundaries of the vast region yet to be explored. this process can hardly fail to suggest not merely one point of departure, but many. the second method is, without even so much casting about, to set forth in any direction, take the first attractive unread book at hand, and let that lead to others. the third course is intended for the student whose previous reading has been so scanty and so perfunctory as to afford him no outlook into literature, a case, which, it is to be feared, is only too common. we will consider this method first. obviously such a student must be furnished with a guide, one who shall set his feet in the right paths, give him his bearings in literature, and inspire him with a love for the beauty and grandeur of the scenery disclosed, so that he shall become not only able to make the rest of his journey alone, but eager to set out. where shall the student find such a guide? there are many and good at hand, yet perhaps the best are not the professional ones, but rather those who give us merely a delightful companionship and invite us to share their own favorite walks in bookland. such a choice companion, to name but one, awaits the student in hazlitt's "lectures on the english poets." of the author himself charles lamb says: "i never slackened in my admiration of him; and i think i shall go to my grave without finding, or expecting to find, such another companion." and of his books stevenson confesses: "we are mighty fine fellows, but we cannot write like william hazlitt." in this little volume which the most hard-pressed student can read and ponder in the leisure moments of a single term, the reader is introduced at once into the wonderland of our english literature, which he is made to realize at the outset is an indivisible portion of the greater territory of the literature of the world. hazlitt begins with a discussion of poetry in general, shows what poetry is, how its various forms move us, and how it differs from its next of kin, such as eloquence and romance. he then takes up the poetry of homer, the bible, dante, and ossian, and sets forth the characteristics of each. in his chapter on our first two great poets, chaucer and spenser, he points out the great and contrasted merits of these two writers who have so little in common except a superficial resemblance in language. hazlitt is fond of presenting his authors to us in pairs or groups. his next chapter is devoted to shakespeare and milton; and we may remark that, while the student is in no danger of forgetting the existence of shakespeare, he is likely to need just such a tribute to the greatness of milton as the critic here presents. the volume contains later chapters of great interest on milton's "lycidas" and "eve." it is not necessary for us to mention here all the subjects treated; dryden and pope, thomson and cowper, burns and the old english ballads are among them. in every case we are not tantalized with mere estimates and characterizations, but are furnished with illustrative specimens of the poems discussed. but the initiation into english literature which we receive from hazlitt does not end with the authors of whom he treats directly. resuming our figure of a landscape, we may say that he takes us through a thousand bypaths into charming nooks and upon delightful prospects of which he has made no announcement beforehand. i spoke of reading and pondering his book in a single college term. but, while this may easily be done, it will be far more profitable for the student, as soon as he feels drawn away from the volume to some author whom it presents, to lay it aside and make an excursion of his own into literature. then let him take up the volume again and go on with it until the critic's praise of the "faerie queene," or the "rape of the lock," or the "castle of indolence" again draws his attention off the essay to the poem itself. and as one poem and one author will lead to another, the volume with which the student set out will thus gradually fulfill its highest mission by inspiring and training its reader to do without it. if the student has access to the shelves of a large library, the very handling of the books in their groups will bring him into contact with other books which he will be attracted to and will dip into and read. in fact it should not be long before he finds his problem to be, not what to read, but what to resist reading. suppose, however, that the student finds himself already possessed of a vague, general knowledge of literature, but nothing definite or satisfying, nothing that inspires interest. he it is who may profitably take up the first attractive unread book at hand; but he should endeavor to read it, not as an isolated fragment of literature, but in its relations. suppose the book happens to be "don quixote." this is a work written primarily to amuse. but if the reader throws himself into the spirit of the book, he will not be content, for instance, with the mere mention of the romances of chivalry which turned the poor knight's brain. he will want to read about them and to read some of them actually. he will be curious as to charlemagne and his peers, arthur and his knights, and will seek to know their true as well as their fabulous history. then he will wonder who the moors were, why they were banished, and what was the result to spain of this act in which even his liberal and kindly author acquiesced. he will ask if antiquity had its romances and if any later novelists were indebted to cervantes. the answer to the last query will bring him to gil blas in french literature and to the works of the great english romancers of the eighteenth century. fielding will lead him to thackeray, smollett to dickens, dickens to bret harte, and bret harte to kipling. if he reads cervantes in english, he will have a choice of translations, and he will not fail to mark the enormous difference in language, literary style, and ideals of rendering between the three versions of shelton in the seventeenth century, motteux in the eighteenth, and ormsby in the nineteenth. if, like many another, he becomes so interested in the great romance as to learn spanish for the sake of coming into direct communication with his author, a whole new literature will be opened to him. furthermore, in the cognate languages which a mastery of spanish will make easy for him, a group of literatures will be placed at his command; and, while he began with cervantes, who threw open for him the portals of the middle ages, we may leave him with dante, looking before and after over all human achievement and destiny. all this the student will not do in one term nor in one year, but he will have _found himself_ in the library, he will have acquired a bond to culture that will not break as he steps out of his last recitation, that will not yield when time and distance have relegated his college friendships, with his lost youth, to the eden or the avilion of memory. and if afterwards he comes, with emerson, to find the chief value of his college training in the ability it has given him to recognize its little avail, he will thus disparage it only in the spirit in which a more advanced student of an earlier day, looking back upon the stupendous revelations of his "principia," likened them to so many pebbles or shells picked up on the shore of the illimitable ocean of knowledge. orthographic reform seldom have controversies brought out so much humor, on both sides, as that over the reform of english spelling, and few have excited so little interest in proportion to the energy expended. both these results are due perhaps to the fact that the subject, from its very nature, does not admit of being made a burning question. yet one has to look only a little way into it to see that important interests--educational, commercial, and possibly racial--are involved. thus far the champions have been chiefly the newspapers for spelling as it is, and scholars and educators for spelling as it ought to be. but, in spite of the intelligence of the disputants, the discussion has been singularly insular and deficient in perspective. it would gain greatly in conclusiveness if spelling and its modifications were considered broadly and historically, not as peculiar to english, but as common to all languages, and involving common problems, which we are not the first to grapple with, but rather seem destined to be the last to solve. as is usually the case in controversies, the chief obstacle to agreement is a lack of what the lawyers call a meeting of minds. the two sides are not talking about the same thing. the reformer has one idea of what spelling is; the public has another idea, which is so different that it robs the reformer's arguments of nearly all their force. the two ideas for which the same word is used are hardly more alike than mother of pearl and mother of vinegar. to the philologist spelling is the application of an alphabet to the words of a language, and an alphabet is merely a system of visible signs adapted to translate to the eye the sounds which make up the speech of the people. to the public spelling is part and parcel of the english language, and to tamper with it is to lay violent hands on the sacred ark of english literature. to the philologist an alphabet is not a thing in itself, but only a medium, and he knows many alphabets of all degrees of excellence. among the latest formed is that which we use and call the roman, but which, though it was taken from italy, made its way back after a course of form development that carried it through ireland, england, and germany. this alphabet was originally designed for writing latin, and, as english has more sounds than latin, some of the symbols when applied to english have to do multiple duty; though this is the least of the complaints against our current spelling. in fact any inventive student of phonetics could in half an hour devise a better alphabet for english, and scores have been devised. but the roman has the field, and no one dreams of advocating a new alphabet for popular use. meanwhile, though the earliest english may have been written in runic, and the bibles which our pilgrim fathers brought over were printed in black-letter, still to the great english-reading public the alphabet of current books and papers is the only alphabet. even this is a double alphabet, consisting as it does of capitals and small letters; and we have besides italic, black-letter, and script, all in common use, all with double forms, and all differing greatly from one another. at best the roman alphabet, though beautiful and practical, is not so beautiful as the greek nor nearly so efficient for representing english sounds as the cherokee syllabary invented by the half-breed, sequoyah, is for representing the sounds of his mother tongue. let us now turn from the alphabet, which is the foundation of spelling, to spelling itself. given a scientific alphabet, spelling, as a problem, vanishes; for there is only one possible spelling for any spoken word, and only one possible pronunciation for any written word. both are perfectly easy, for there is no choice, and no one who knows the alphabet can make a mistake in either. but given a traditional alphabet encumbered with outgrown or impracticable or blundering associations, and spelling may become so difficult as to serve for a test or hallmark of scholarship. in french, for instance, the alphabet has drifted so far from its moorings that no one on hearing a new word spoken, if it contains certain sounds, can be sure of its spelling; though every one on seeing a new word written knows how to pronounce it. but in english our alphabet has actually parted the cable which held it to speech, and we know neither how to write a new word when we hear it nor how to pronounce one when we see it. strangest of all, we have come, in our english insularity, to look on this as a matter of course. but germans and spaniards, italians and dutchmen, have no such difficulty and never have to turn to the dictionary to find out how to spell a word that they hear or how to pronounce a word that they see. for them spelling and speech are identical; all they have to make sure of is the standard pronunciation. they have done what we have neglected to do--developed the alphabet into an accurate phonetic instrument, and our neglect is costing us, throughout the english-speaking world, merely in dealing with silent letters, the incredible sum of a hundred million dollars a year.[ ] our neighbors look after the alphabet and the spelling looks after itself; if the pronunciation changes, the spelling changes automatically, and thus keeps itself always up to date. but this happy result has not been brought about without effort, the same kind of effort that our reformers are now making for our benefit. in swedish books printed only a hundred years ago we find words printed with the letters _th_ in combination, like the word _them_, which had the same meaning, and originally the same pronunciation, as the english word. at that time, however, swedes had long ceased to be able to pronounce the _th_, but they kept the letters just as we still keep the _gh_ in _brought_ and _through_, though for centuries no one who speaks only standard english has been able to sound this guttural. in the last century the swedes reformed their spelling, and they now write the word as they pronounce it--_dem_. german spelling has passed through several stages of reform in recent decades and is now almost perfectly phonetic. germans now write _brot_ and no longer _brod_ or _brodt_. it must be frankly confessed that the derivation of some words is not so obvious to the eye as formerly. the appearance of the swedish _byrÃ¥_ does not at once suggest the french _bureau_, which it exactly reproduces in sound. but europeans think it more practical, if they cannot indicate both pronunciation and etymology in spelling, to relegate the less important to the dictionary. much, to be sure, has been made of the assumed necessity of preserving the pedigree of our words in their spelling, but in many cases this is not done now. who thinks of _alms_ and _eleemosynary_ as coming from the same greek word? scholars say that a complete phonetic spelling of english would actually restore to the eye as much etymology as it took away. but the most deep-seated opposition to changing our current spelling arises from its association, almost identification, with english literature. if this objection were valid it would be final, for literature is the highest use of language, and if reformed spelling means the loss of our literature we should be foolish to submit to it. but at what point in the history of english literature would reformed spelling begin to work harm? hardly before shakespeare, for the spelling of chaucer belongs to the grammatical stage of the language at which he wrote, and spenser's spelling is more or less an imitation of it made with a literary purpose. shakespeare and milton, however, wrote substantially modern english, and they are therefore at the mercy of the spelling reformer--as they always have been. the truth is, shakespeare's writings have been respelt by every generation that has reprinted them, and the modern spelling reformer would leave them at least as near to shakespeare's spelling as our current spelling is. the poet himself made fun of his contemporaries who said _det_ instead of _debt_, but what would he say of us who continue to write the word _debt_, though it has not been so pronounced for three hundred years? in old editions (and how fast editions grow old!) antiquated spelling is no objection, it is rather an attraction; but new, popular editions of the classics will be issued in contemporary spelling so long as the preservation of metre and rhyme permit. we still occasionally turn to the first folio of shakespeare and to the original editions of milton's poems to enjoy their antique flavor, and, in the latter case, to commune not only with a great poet, but also with a vigorous spelling reformer. thus, whatever changes come over our spelling, standard old editions will continue to be prized and new editions to be in demand. but for the most part, though we might not readily understand the actual speech of shakespeare and milton, could we hear it, we like to treat them as contemporaries and read their works in our everyday spelling. our libraries, under spelling reform, will become antiquated, but only a little faster than they are now doing and always have done. readers who care for a book over ten years old are few in number and will not mind antiquated spelling in the future any more than they do now. the printer, therefore, must not flatter himself with the prospect of a speedy reprinting of all the english classics in the new spelling. english is certain to have some day as scientific a spelling as german, but the change will be spread over decades and will be too gradual to affect business appreciably. on the other hand, he need not fear any loss to himself in the public's gain of the annual hundred million dollar tax which it now pays for the luxury of superfluous letters. our printer's bills in the future will be as large as at present, but we shall get more for our money. it will indeed be to the english race a strange world in which the spelling book ends with the alphabet; in which there is no conflict of standards except as regards pronunciation; in which two years of a child's school life are rescued from the needless and applied to the useful; in which the stenographer has to learn not two systems of spelling, but only two alphabets; in which the simplicity and directness of the english language, which fit it to become a world language, will not be defeated by a spelling that equals the difficulty of german grammar; in which the blundering of dutch printers, like _school_, false etymologies, like _rhyme_, and french garnishes, as in _tongue_, no longer make the judicious grieve; and in which the fatal gift of bad spelling, which often accompanies genius, will no longer be dependent upon the printer to hide its orthographic nakedness from a public which, if it cannot always spell correctly itself, can always be trusted to detect and ridicule bad spelling. but it is a world which the english race will some day have, and which we may begin to have here and now if we will. the perversities of type that searching analyst of the soul, edgar allan poe, found among the springs of human nature the quality of perverseness, the disposition to do wrong because it is wrong; in reality, however, poe's imp of the perverse is active far beyond the boundaries of the human soul; his disturbances pervade the whole world, and nowhere are they more noticeable than in the printing office. this is so because elsewhere, when things fall out contrary to rule, the result may often be neutral or even advantageous; but in the printing office all deviations, or all but a minute fraction, are wrong. they are also conspicuous, for, though the standard is nothing less than perfection, the ordinary human eye is able to apply the standard. these tricks of the malicious imp are commonly called "misprints," "printer's errors," "errors of the press," or, more impartially, "errata" or "corrigenda." in the first three names there is a tinge of unfairness, because the printer is by no means responsible for all the mistakes that appear in type. the author is usually partly to blame and may be chiefly; yet when he suffers a lapse of memory or knowledge, he usually passes it off as a "printer's error." sometimes the author's handwriting may mislead the printer, but when so good a biblical scholar as mr. gladstone wrote of _daniel_ in the fiery furnace, there was no possibility that the single name could have stood in his manuscript for the names of the three men whose trial is mentioned in the _book_ of daniel. even here the submission of proof fixes the final responsibility on the author. but, quite apart from the responsibility for them, the mistakes embalmed in type are among the most interesting of all literary curiosities. misprints--to use the handiest term--range in importance from the innocent and obvious, like a turned _a_, and the innocent and obvious only to the expert, like a turned _s_, to a turned _n_, which may be mistaken for a _u_, or the change or omission of a punctuation mark, which may involve claims to thousands of dollars. even the separation of one word into two may reverse the meaning of the sentence, yet not betray itself by any oddity of phrase, as when the atheist who had asserted that "god is nowhere" found himself in print standing sponsor for the statement that "god is now here." the same trick of the types was played on an american political writer in his own paper regarding his pet reform, which he meant to assert was "nowhere in existence." the earliest printed books were intended to be undistinguishable from manuscripts, but occasionally a turned letter betrayed them absolutely. in the same way the modern newspaper now and then introduces an unintentional advertisement of the linotype by presenting to its readers a line upside down. another trick is the mixing of two paragraphs, which sometimes occurs even in books. the most famous instance of this blunder is probably that which happened in the english "men of the time" for , and which led to a serious lawsuit against the publishers. the printer had mixed the biographies of the bishop of oxford and robert owen the socialist in such a way that bishop wilberforce was called "a sceptic as it regards religious revelation." the mistake occurred in locking up the forms. doubtless both biographies had been approved by their subjects, but apparently no proof was read after the fatal telescoping of the two articles. the last instance is an example of the patient waiting as much as the ingenuity of the imp of the perverse, but in pure ingenuity he is without a rival in mere human inventiveness. it certainly was a resourceful frenchman who translated "hit or miss" as "frappé ou mademoiselle," and it was inspired ignorance on the part of a student assistant in a college library who listed "sur l'administration de m. necker, par lui même" under "même, lui," as if it were the name of the author of the book instead of being the french for "himself." but the imp of the perverse aims higher than this. he did not hesitate in an edition of the bible published in london in to leave the _not_ out of the one commandment from which its absence would be the most noticeable. this was much worse than leaving out the whole commandment, for it transformed a moral prohibition into an immoral command. the printer in this case was fined three hundred pounds, or five hundred dollars for each letter omitted. it is curious that the _same_ omission was made in an edition of the bible printed at halle. a vermont paper, in an obituary notice of a man who had originally come from hull, mass., was made by the types to state that "the body was taken to hell, where the rest of the family are buried." in the first english bible printed in ireland, "sin no more" appears as "sin on more." it was, however, a deliberate joke of some oxford students which changed the wording in the marriage service from "live" to "like," so that a couple married out of this book are required to live together only so long as they "both shall like." an orator who spoke of "our grand mother church" was made to say "our grandmother church." the public of brown university was recently greatly amused by a local misprint. the president of the university is required by its ancient charter to be an "antipaedobaptist"; the types reproduced the word as "antipseudobaptist," a word which would be a very good greek rendering of "hardshell." an express train at full speed having struck a cow, the report was made to say that it "cut her into calves." sixty years ago the "london globe" made the registrar general say that the city was suffering from a high rate of _morality_. the ingenuity of our readers will supply the missing letter, as it also will the the true reading of the following passage which appeared in an english newspaper: "sir robert peel has been out with a party of fiends shooting peasants." it was an easy but astonishing blunder made in german, in the substitution of "mädchen" (girls) for "mächten" (powers), according to which bismarck was asserted to be "trying to keep up honest and straightforward relations with all the girls." the imp of the perverse, when he descends upon the printing office, sometimes becomes the imp of the perverted. here his achievements will not bear reproducing. suffice it to say that in point of indecency he displays the same superhuman ingenuity as in his more innocent pranks. his indecencies are all, indeed, in print, but fortunately scattered, and it would be a groveling nature that should seek to collect them; yet the absence of this chapter from the world's book of humor means the omission of a comic strain that neither aristophanes nor rabelais has surpassed. even as i write, a newspaper misprint assures me that typesetting machines are no protection against the imp of the perverted. perhaps we may be pardoned the reproduction of one of the mildest of these naughtinesses. a french woman novelist had written: "to know truly what love is, we must go out of ourselves" (sortir de soi). the addition of a single letter transformed this eminently respectable sentiment into the feline confession: "to know truly what love is, we must go out nights" (sortir de soir). sometimes the blunder sprite deliberately pits himself against author, proof reader, and all their allies. the books printed by aldus are famous for their correctness, yet a few errors crept into them, so much to the disgust of the great printer that he said he would gladly have given a gold crown for each one to be rid of them. the famous oxford university press is said to have posted up the first sheet of one of its bibles, with the offer of a guinea for every misprint that could be found in it. none was found--until the book was printed. james lenox, the american collector, prided himself on the correctness of his reprint of the autograph manuscript of "washington's farewell address," which he had acquired. on showing the book to henry stevens, the bookseller, the latter, glancing at a page, inquired, "why pap_a_r instead of pap_e_r?" mr. lenox was overwhelmed with mortification; but stevens sent for a skillful bookbinder, who removed the objectionable _a_ and with a camel's hair pencil substituted an _e_ for it, so that the demon was conquered after all, but only through great trouble. how would it seem possible to reissue a printed book, copy it exactly, and yet make an atrocious blunder? the type spirit is equal to even this feat. the book was a mathematical one, full of formulae. it was not reproduced page for page, so it was perfectly easy for a signature mark to get printed and appear in the middle of a page mixed up with an equation, to the confusion of american mathematical scholarship. more tragic were the misprints in a work by the italian poet, guidi, which are said to have hastened his death. in an interesting volume by henry b. wheatley on "literary blunders," the tricksy puck of the press has revenged himself on the author for his attacks by smuggling in a number of misprints, among them one that he must have inspired in the mind of the author, the spelling "bride of lammermuir," which has no warrant in scott's novel itself. in the same book is a reference to shakespeare that diligent search fails to verify. thus no knowledge or skill avails against the kobold of the case. the most baffling device of the imp is to cause a new error in the process of correcting an old one. this residuary misprint is one against which there is no complete protection. when general pillow returned from mexico he was hailed by a southern editor as a "battle-scarred veteran." the next day the veteran called upon him to demand an apology for the epithet actually printed, "battle-scared." what was the horror of the editor, on the following day, to see the expression reappear in his apology as "bottle-scarred"! occasionally, however, the mischief maker takes a notion to improve the copy set before him. the world will never know how often this has happened, for authors are just as willing to take credit for excellencies not their own as to lay on the printer the blame for their own oversights. in one of artemus ward's articles he had spoken of a starving prisoner as appealing for something to eat. the proof rendered it something to _read_. the humorist accepted the substitution as an additional absurdity. the french poet, malherbe, once welcomed a misprint as an improvement on what he had written. there can be no doubt that, had there been no misprints in shakespeare's quartos and folios, half the occupation of shakespeare scholarship would have been lacking. sometimes the original manuscript turns up--unfortunately not in shakespeare's case--to confute some or all of the ingenious editors. a learned professor changed the word "unbodied" in shelley's "skylark" to "embodied," and some critics approved the change; but the poet's manuscript in the harvard university library makes the former reading clear beyond question. one might say that in these cases the imp of the perverse plants himself like a fatal microbe in the brain of the unfortunate editor. when that brilliant work, "the principles of success in literature," by george henry lewes, appeared in the "fortnightly review," the expression "tilt stones from a cart" (used to describe careless writing) was printed with _l_ as the first letter. when the chapters were reissued in america, the proofreader, warned by the presence of numerous other gross misprints, naturally corrected the meaningless "lilt" to the obvious and natural "tilt." this change at first escaped the attention of the american editor, who in the second edition insisted on restoring the original misprint and even defended his misjudgment in a note. it is worth adding that the oxford english dictionary takes the misprint as too obvious for comment and quotes the passage under "tilt." the most daring feat of the typographic angel of the odd--to adopt another of poe's expressions--is the creation of what professor skeat called "ghost words," that is, words that seem to exist but do not. a misprint in scott's "monastery" of "morse" for "nurse" was accepted without question by readers and gravely explained by scholars. some of these words, of which there are scores, are due to the misreading of crabbed manuscripts, but not a few have originated in the printing office. it must be remembered that they make their way into the dictionaries. for another instance let the reader open worcester's dictionary to the word _phantomnation_. he will see it defined as "illusion" and referred to pope. in webster's dictionary, however, he will learn its true character, as a ghost word formed by running together the two words _phantom nation_. the printing of poetry involves all the possible mistakes liable to prose and, owing to the form of poetry, some new ones. thus in pickering's aldine edition of milton, two words of one line in "samson agonistes" are dropped down into the next, making the two lines of uneven length and very much hurting the emphasis. the three-volume reprint of this edition dutifully copies the misprint. in the standard edition of dr. holmes's "works" printed at the riverside press, in the unusual case of a poem in stanzas being broken up into a dialogue, the end of one speech, carried over to the following page, has been assigned to the next speaker, thus spoiling both the sense and the metre. the most extraordinary instance that has ever come under my eye occurs in a special edition of john hay's "poems," issued as a college prize volume and very elegantly printed at a well-known press. one poem has disappeared entirely except a single stanza, which has been attached to another poem with which it has no connection, not even agreeing with it in metre. the list of errata, the printer's public confession of fault, is rather rare in modern books, but this is due as much to the indifference of the public as to better proofreading. when edwin arnold's "light of asia" took the reading world by storm, a new york reprint was issued, which we commend to anyone looking for classical examples of misprinted books. it averages perhaps a gross misprint to every page. possibly extreme haste to beat the boston edition in the market may have suggested dispensing with the proof reader. of course a publisher who could so betray his customers would never offer them even the partial amends of a list of errata. sometimes the errors are picked up while the book is still in press, and in that case the list of errata can be printed as an extension of the text; sometimes the best that can be done is to print it on a separate slip or sheet and either insert it in the book or supply it to purchasers. both these things happened in the case of that early american book, mather's "magnalia." the loose list of errata was printed on the two inner pages of one fold the size of the book. in the two hundred years that have elapsed, most of these folded sheets have been lost, with the financial result that a copy of the book with them will bring twice as much as one without them, these two leaves weighing as much in the scales of commerce as the other four hundred. sometimes a misprint establishes the priority of a copy, the error having been silently corrected while the sheets were going through the press, and thus adds to its value in the eyes of the collector. the extent of these ancient lists of errata staggers belief. cardinal bellarmin was obliged to issue an octavo volume of eighty-eight pages to correct the misprints in his published works, and there is on record a still huger list of errata, extending to one hundred and eleven quarto pages. but we must not suppose that misprints began with the invention of printing. the name did, but not the thing named. in earlier times it was the copyist who made the mistakes and bore the blame. it is easy to see how in greece and rome, when one reader read aloud a book which perhaps a hundred copyists reproduced, a great number of errors might creep into the copies, and how many of these would result from confusion in hearing. every copy was then an edition by itself and a possible source of error, calling therefore for its own proofreading. it is accordingly no wonder that the straightening out of classic texts is still going on. had chaucer, who wrote over a hundred years before printing was introduced into england, been able to read once for all the proof of his poems, he would not have had to write that feeling address to his copyist, or scrivener, with which we may fitly take leave of our subject. adam scryveyne, if ever it thee byfalle, boece or troylus for to wryten nuwe, under thy long lokkes thowe most have the scalle, but affter my makyng thowe wryte more truwe; so offt a daye i mot thy werk renuwe, it to corect, and eke to rubbe and scrape, and al is thorugh thy necglygence and rape. a secret of personal power greater efficiency is the watchword of the hour. the pages of every technical and even educational magazine bristle with it. one is driven to wonder whether the principle does not require that in every printing office the word "efficiency" be stereotyped to save the cost of setting. we are told how one manager of a creamery saved annually the amount of his own salary to the company by having the dents in the supply cans pounded out and so getting more milk from the farmers. but though the lengths to which the insistence on efficiency is carried may sometimes provoke a smile, we have no inclination to disparage it; we realize that efficiency has far more than a mere money value to society; it is rather our purpose in the present paper to ask whether the efficiency man has ever thought to turn his searchlight in upon himself and discover whether he has not latent and unexpected powers that may be evoked to the great increase of his own efficiency. we have nothing historically new to offer, though the principle we are to mention is practically unknown or at least unutilized. it is the great, controlling principle of forethought, the application of which is far wider than thought itself, extending to all the functions of the soul and even affecting bodily energy and health. the action of forethought is based on the fact that there is more to ourselves than we are aware of. we are not ordinarily conscious of our past lives, for instance, yet a supreme crisis, such as falling from a height, may make a man's whole past in an instant flash before him in review. under sudden stress a man may develop powers of leadership or resolution that nobody could have foreseen and that he himself cannot account for. our selves as we know them are, so to speak, only the top soil of our entire natures. every conscious personality is like a farm in an oil district. it is underlain by an unrealized wealth that may never be brought to light. some accident may reveal the treasure, but if the owner suspects its existence he may bore for it. to show how this boring may be done is one of the purposes of the present paper. but let us first assure ourselves further of the existence of this hidden fund of energy. if in the early fifties of the last century a vote had been taken on the two men in america who ten years later would stand head and shoulders above their countrymen in position and recognized ability, it is probable that not one single vote would have been cast for a slouchy missouri farmer or a shabby illinois lawyer, certainly not for the former. grant and lincoln themselves would not have expected a vote. yet their powers existed then, unrealized by their owners, and only needing the proper stimulus to bring them out. that stimulus was responsibility; and, great as their achievements were under this stimulus, neither man appears to have reached his limit; each apparently had still a fund of reserve power to be expended on yet greater occasions had they arisen. this is not to say that all men have an equal fund of unrecognized ability. the experiences of the great struggle out of which lincoln and grant came supreme are alone sufficient to show how unequal are men's endowments. a mcclellan proves himself an unsurpassed organizer, but no fighter; a burnside displays marked ability in leading fifteen or twenty thousand men, but beyond this number he fails disastrously. neither foresight nor any other device can _create_ ability. a gallon can will hold only a gallon, no matter how carefully its sides are rounded. but in the case of any given man no one knows his capacity until he has had a chance to show it. his nature may hold only a pint, or, as with the men who have mastered great occasions with still unexhausted powers, it may seem like the horn which the god thor tried to drain but could not, for its base was connected with the ocean itself. not every man can hope to be called to a responsibility that shall bring out his latent powers; most of us, if we are ever to get the call, will first have to show the ability. how can a man tap the unknown resources, be they great or small, of his unconscious self? the method here to be suggested has at least the merit of great simplicity. i have called it forethought; it might perhaps as exactly be called forewilling. the point is that this unconscious part of a man's nature is not out of his control; he can send word to it and direct it, even if he has to do so by a kind of wireless telegraphy. however mysterious this may sound, there is nothing mystical about it, neither is it something vague and indefinite, but a practice to be applied to actual cases in hand. suppose a business man is trying to get an important contract, and is to have an interview on the morrow that will decide the question. let him, before he falls asleep at night, go over the whole ground in his mind, set before himself clearly the thing to be done with the particular difficulties to be met, and let him _will_ himself to meet those difficulties, to carry his case. let him will that at that time he shall be cheerful and vigorous; and, having given these instructions to his unconscious self--which has perhaps been waiting years for just this chance to do its part in the common endeavor--let him dismiss the whole matter from his conscious thought and go to sleep. on awaking in the morning let him review the matter and again dismiss it from his mind until the occasion arrives. if he will do this faithfully, he may not succeed the first time in carrying his point, but he will certainly feel a great increase of power, and ultimately, if he persists in making his unconscious self an active partner in his life, he will find himself far more successful than he could have been while depending on a single side of his nature. the same principle will hold, of course, in a myriad cases; if we have to-morrow, or even at a later date, to plead a cause, to make an after-dinner speech, to write a report or an article, to learn a lesson, to entertain guests, to handle a difficult case of discipline, we have only to take this counsel of our pillow, to reënforce it with our first morning thought, and we shall find ourselves making a new record of success. it is obvious that a principle so effective cannot be limited to the active or the intellectual life. if a man has a fault or a besetting weakness or sin, here is a way out of it. how long will a bad habit stand such an assault upon itself as the evening and morning practice of forethought? one will actually feel the new force within him, like a gyroscopic stabilizer, holding him to his predetermined course. there is literally a world of hope for mankind in the application of this principle on its moral side. but the business of our article is with other applications and we must dismiss this, the greatest of all, with a mere mention. if anyone questions whether this principle is true or not, the best answer will be to bid him test it. though it be true universally, some people may not easily apply it, and some may not have the patience to subject themselves to such a discipline. but most will have no difficulty, and many will succeed well enough to inspire themselves to continue. some, indeed, will say, and with perfect truth, that there is nothing new in this doctrine, that they have long known and applied it. the principle has doubtless been known for thousands of years, but it has certainly not been widely taken up by our race, which is curiously external in its notions of self-education and self-control. one american writer, the late charles godfrey leland, a man of the most varied powers and accomplishments, has written in advocacy of it and gives us as his own experience that after the age of seventy he was able to do a greater amount of literary work, and with less fatigue, than ever before simply by calling in the aid of his unconscious self. if one were to read the lives and writings of eminent men with this principle of forethought in mind, one would find numberless instances of its more or less unconscious practice. the best scholar in my own class, for instance, applied it to his studies. does anyone suppose that the old puritan's sweetening of his mind with a little calvin before he went to bed was without its effect on his devotion to calvinism? erasmus, the wittiest of scholars, writing nearly four hundred years ago to his special friend, christian of lubeck, recommends the practice both of the evening instruction and the morning review as something that he himself has followed from his childhood; and we cannot doubt that in it he reveals one of the secrets of his world-wide influence. he says to his youthful friend: "a little before you go to sleep read something choice and worth remembering, and think it over until you fall asleep. when you awake in the morning make yourself give an account of it." though this is clearly an application of the principle to study and the strengthening of the memory, experiment will show that the potency of forethought is not limited to the memory or the intellect in general, but applies to man's entire nature and equally to the least and the greatest of its concerns. footnotes: [ ] the substance of an address delivered nov. , , in the boston public library, under the auspices of the society of printers. [ ] the address here summarized was printed at the chiswick press and published at christmas, . mr. stevens died early in , leaving a posthumous book entitled "recollections of mr. james lenox," which was printed in the same year at the chiswick press, and which is of great interest to booklovers, especially americans. [ ] mr. edison's projected substitute for paper, sheets of nickel, , to the inch, may indicate the book material of the future, but at present it is only a startling possibility. [ ] the type in which this book is printed is a modern bodoni, cut in italy, and was chosen for its elegance rather than to illustrate the latest results in legibility of type design. [ ] see "simplified spelling in writing and printing; a publisher's point of view," by henry holt, ll.d., new york, . about one half the expense falls within the domain of printing. index index ability, cannot be created, . accents, their help in reading poetry, , . Ã�schylus, as characterized by mrs. browning, . aldine edition of the british poets, by pickering, , . aldrich, thomas bailey, his "friar jerome's beautiful book," , . aldus, alduses and elzevirs contrasted, ; beauty in his work, ; bindings of, ; his characteristic book, ; his example followed by the elzevirs, ; his italic type and its effect on the size and price of books, , ; pickering and other followers of, , ; vexed by misprints, . alphabet, chinese, picture writing, , ; derivation from picture writing, ; scientific and actual, ; varieties in use, . _see also_ type. american journal of psychology, contains sanford's study on "the relative legibility of the small letters," . arnold, edwin, misprints in his "light of asia," . art, art aspect of the book, , , ; shares the prehistoric background of the book, , . artists not opposed to criticism, . assyrian clay tablet, . astor library, size in , . audubon, john james, his elephant-folio "birds of america," . authors, reading by single authors and groups, - ; spoilers of books, . authorship, rules of, . babylonian book, . back numbers, unimportant contemporary works become, . "background of the book," - . bacon, francis, lord, quoted, , . baird, john wallace, directs clark university studies on legibility, . ballads, old english, hazlitt on, . balzac, honoré de, expanded his novels in proof, . balzac, jean louis guez de, acknowledged his indebtedness to the elzevirs, . bamboo, source of chinese paper, . barlow, joel, place of his "columbiad" in modern printing, . bartlett, john, quoted, . baskerville, john, his smooth paper, . beauty, _see_ esthetics. beecher, henry ward, his "norwood" in three volumes, ; john beattie crozier on his sermons, . beethoven, his ninth symphony as a product of genius, . bellarmin, cardinal, list of errata in his works, . best books, need of provision for daily reading, . _see also_ books. bible, hazlitt on its poetry, ; influence on bunyan, on calhoun, ; misprints in, , ; various folio editions, . bible of humanity, socrates in, . bigness, in books, , , , . binder, a spoiler of books, , ; what the librarian asks of him, . binding, as an element of the book, ; "the clothing of a book," - ; of the book beautiful, - ; of the chinese book, , ; of the well-made book, ; "parchment bindings," , ; unnecessary rebindings, . bion, as characterized by mrs. browning, . birch bark, used for book of india, . bismarck, misprint concerning, . blackmore, richard doddridge, tribute to shakespeare, . blue and gold editions, a favorite book size, - . bodoni, giambattista, his type commended, , , . book, "the background of the book," - ; "blown" books, ; "the book beautiful," - ; "the book of to-day and the book of to-morrow," - ; chinese, , , - ; "the clothing of a book," - ; a constructive critic of the, - ; elements of, - ; "fitness in book design," - ; its structural contradiction, ; materials, ; of the future, , ; on its physical side an art object, ; pre-columbian mexican, ; printed, a "substitute" for manuscript, ; subject to laws of esthetics and economics, ; tests of its utility, ; well-made, not extremely costly, , not identical with beautiful, ; worth writing three times, . _see also_ design; size. book buyers, how to educate, ; spoilers of books, , . booklovers, "books and booklovers," - ; must first know books, ; service in improvement of books, , , . book production, ; elements added by printing, . books, as a librarian would like them, - ; "books and booklovers," - ; the greatest, few, ; intellectual riffraff, ; learning to love, ; "lest we forget the few great books," - ; perishable, , , ; progress in legibility of, , ; small, commended by dr. johnson, ; "the student and the library," - ; that are not books, , ; world's annual publication of, . books of hours, dainty volumes, . boston athenaeum library, size in , . boston public library, address in, , _footnote_; size in , . brandes, georg, his "shakespeare: a critical study," . brass, used for book of india, . british poets, rival editions of, by pickering and by little and brown, , . brown, horatio robert forbes, on aldus and his italic type, . brown, john carter, patron of henry stevens, . brown university, misprint in quoting its charter, , . browne, charles farrar, adopts a misprint, . browning, elizabeth barrett, her "wine of cyprus" quoted, , . buchanan, george, his latin poems, commended by dr. johnson, ; published by the elzevirs, . bulk, in books, - . bunyan, john, debt to the bible, . burma, book of, _see_ india. burns, robert, hazlitt on, . burnside, general ambrose everett, his limitations, , . burton, sir richard, his "kasîdah" in mosher's tribute typography, . bury, richard de, author of the "philobiblon," . byron, lord, hated horace, . caesura, indication of, in print, . calhoun, john caldwell, reader of the bible, . calligraphy, _see_ manuscript. calvin, john, as a puritan's spiritual nightcap, . cambridge university, student groups in, . capital letters, legibility, , , ; roman in origin, ; roman, superior to black-letter in combination, ; undersized, used by aldus, . carlyle, thomas, on goethe, ; rewrote his books in proof, . caslon type, commended, , . catchwords, usage of aldus, . cattell, james mckeen, his investigations of legibility, , . cave men, pictures made by them, , . centaur type, commended, . century dictionary, illustration of cerastes, ; a triumph of typography, , . century types, commended, , . cervantes, "don quixote," character and meaning of, , , no final edition of, , on reading, , , translations of, , ; his character, ; later novelists indebted to, . chaucer, geoffrey, complaint of his scribe's errors, , ; hazlitt on, ; his spelling, . cheapness, _see_ cost. cheltenham type, commended, . cherokee syllabary, . children, increase of near sight among, ; legibility of books for, , . chinese, alphabet, conventionalized picture writing, , ; book, , , - . chiswick press, , _footnote_; pickering's books printed at, . christian of lubeck, letter of erasmus to, quoted, . cicero, did not write for children, . clark university, studies on legibility, - , . classroom, not equal to a good book, . clay tablet, and booklovers, ; described, . clodd, edward, on discovery of british prehistoric antiquities, . cloister oldstyle type, commended, ; a safe norm for poetry, . cloth, used in binding, . "clothing of a book," - . codex, roman, form adopted for parchment books, ; original of modern book form, , , . collins, wilkie, tribute to "robinson crusoe," . color, use of, . columbian type, first used in barlow's "columbiad," . columns, in wide pages, . community, value of reading to the, , . compactness and legibility, , , , , . compositor, a spoiler of books, , . "constructive critic of the book," - . consumers, _see_ book buyers. contemporary writers, on reading their works, , . contrast of type, , . copperplate printing, in connection with typography, . cornell university library, proof-sheets of the "waverley novels" in, . corrigenda, - ; lists of, , . cost, the book of to-morrow will be cheaper, ; cheapened books, ; of beautiful books little more than of unsightly, ; relatively small, of well-made books, . cowper, william, hazlitt on, . crabbe, george, a favorite edition of, . criticism, "a constructive critic of the book," - ; not opposed by artists, . crozier, john beattie, on reading, , . culture cannot be vicarious, . dana, john cotton, his analysis of the elements of the book, . dante, his "divine comedy," character of, , , ; "fly's-eye" edition of, ; hazlitt on, ; privilege of reading, ; professor torrey on reading, . decoration, in bindings, , - ; use of color in, . defoe, daniel, tribute of wilkie collins to "robinson crusoe," . democratization of learning, by the cheap books of aldus, . de morgan, william, quoted, , ; value of his novels, . de quincey, thomas, on possible amount of reading in a lifetime, . design, "fitness in book design," - ; of type, , , . diagonal of page, . dickens, charles, his works in illegible print, , on oxford india paper, , on thick paper, ; on reading him, . dickinson, emily, quoted, , . didot, ambrose firmin, his "microscopic" type, . discovery of a great book, , . distinctions, to the eye, in manuscript and print, - . don quixote, _see_ cervantes. dordogne, france, its prehistoric pictures, , . dowden, edward, his "shakspere: his mind and art," . dryden, john, hazlitt on, . economics, the book within the domain of, , . edges, treatment of, . edison, thomas alva, would substitute nickel for paper, , _footnote_. editions de luxe, disapproved by henry stevens, . education, in appreciation of beautiful books, ; of book buyers, . efficiency, in modern life, ; of the book, . egyptian, book, see papyrus; hieroglyphics, picture writing, . elements of the book, - . elimination, test of, applied to reading, , . eliot, charles william, his latin signature, , . elzevirs, compared with aldines, , with blue and gold editions, ; described, - . emerson, ralph waldo, his life and works, , ; importance of his works, ; john beattie crozier on, ; quoted, . encyclopædia britannica, in its two sizes of type, . english, alphabets, , ; book publication in , ; books, criticised, - ; literature as affected by reformed spelling, ; poets, hazlitt's lectures on, , ; romancers, of the th century, ; spelling, - . engravings, _see_ illustrations. erasmus, desiderius, letter to christian of lubeck, quoted, . errata, - ; lists of, , . errors of the press, - . essays, in a favorite book size, . esthetics, beauty in typography, - ; "the book beautiful," - ; the book subject to the laws of, ; harmony between beauty and use in type design, ; in choice of type, , ; involves sacrifice of utility, ; its demands must be met in a favorite book, , met by the little classic editions, ; of the book, , ; printer's duty, to, ; relation of thickness and thinness to, , ; sacrificed to legibility, . etymology in spelling, . eumenes ii, originates parchment, , . euripides, as characterized by mrs. browning, . everyman's library, in a favorite book size, . eves, binders, their work, . "exceptions to the rule of legibility," - , , . expression in typography, - , , . eyes, _see_ sight. f, the letter, origin and derivatives, . fairy queen, _see_ spenser, edmund. "favorite book sizes," - . favorite literature, in appropriate typography, . fielding, henry, a favorite edition of, ; on reading him, ; an unattractive edition of, . fields, annie adams, her "beacon biography" of hawthorne, . finishing, _see_ binding. fitness, between illustrations and type, ; in book design, - ; in typography, , . fitzgerald, edward, at cambridge university, . forethought, "a secret of personal power," - . forewilling, "a secret of personal power," - . format, _see_ size. forwarding, _see_ binding. franklin, benjamin, quoted, , . french, alphabet, ; book publication in , ; type, faults of, , , . frowde, henry, publishes "the periodical" in form of a chinese book, , . galileo, acknowledged his indebtedness to the elzevirs, . garfield, james abram, recommends reading of fiction, . gems, in bindings, . genius, its bad spelling, , ; its monuments in the various arts, . german, book publication in , ; spelling reform, , , ; tribute typography, ; type, faults of, , , . ghost words, , . gilding, _see_ binding; edges. gladstone, william ewart, a literary blunder of, , . goethe, carlyle on, ; his greatness, ; john beattie crozier on, ; on sir walter scott, . goffered edges, . goudy, frederic w., his kennerley type commended, . grace before reading, . grammar of book manufacture, , . grant, ulysses simpson, his coat of arms, ; his greatness brought out by responsibility, . gray, thomas, small bulk of his work, . "great books, lest we forget the few," - . greek literature, masterpieces of, - . greeks, surpassed by moderns in knowledge, . green, john richard, quoted, . grolier, jean, bindings made for, . groups, reading authors by, , . guide, in reading, - ; none to love of books, . guidi, carlo alessandro, killed by misprints, . habit, and forethought, . haggard, rider, his "mr. meeson's will," . hallam, arthur henry, at cambridge university, . handwriting, _see_ manuscript. harte, francis bret, on reading his works, . harvard university, course in printing, ; library possesses manuscript of shelley's "skylark," ; size of library in , . hawthorne, nathaniel, on reading him, , . hay, john, his reading in college, ; a remarkable misprint in his "poems," . hazlitt, william, as a guide in reading, , ; lamb and stevenson on, . headlines, henry d. lloyd on, . "hibbert journal," bulkiness of, . hieroglyphics, _see_ picture writing. higginson, thomas wentworth, his life of longfellow, . holmes, oliver wendell, the blue and gold edition of his "poems," , ; his life of emerson, ; member of new england group of authors, ; a misprint in his "works," ; quoted, , , , . holt, henry, on simplified spelling, , _footnote_. homer, did not write for children, ; hazlitt on, ; his works, , , ; keats's sonnet on, , ; not out of date, ; why his works are divided into books, . horace, hated by byron, ; his works, ; in bodoni's edition, , ; more modern than the puritans, , than dante, . houghton, mifflin and company, publish books resembling chinese, , . hours, books of, dainty volumes, . house of representatives library, size in , . hudson, henry norman, his edition of shakespeare, , . huey, edmund burke, his "psychology and pedagogy of reading," commended, . hull, mass., as misprinted, . humanistic type, _see_ new humanistic. hunt, leigh, his characterization of the "divine comedy," . i, the letter, discussions regarding its dot, . "idler," a favorite edition of, . illumination, ; indication of initials for, . illustration, as a feature of the book, ; of the book beautiful, . "imitatio christi," in updike's specimen pages, . incunabula, relatively cheap, . indecency in misprints, , . indenting, as affecting the book beautiful, . "independent," compactly printed, . india, book of, , . individual, value of reading to, - . initials, colored, ; spacing and mitering of, . ink, best for the eye, , ; blue, for legibility, ; an element of the book, ; maker, a spoiler of books, , . interpretative typography, - , , . "interpreter of meaning, print as an," - . invention, in book production, , . irving, washington, book design in editions of his "knickerbocker," , ; unfortunate use of his "sketch book" as a school book, , . italic type, invention and use by aldus, , . italy, annual book publication, . japan, annual book publication, . javal, dr. Ã�mile, his investigations of legibility, , , . jenson, nicholas, beauty and grandeur in his work, ; descendants of his types, ; facsimile page of, _frontispiece_. johnson, rossiter, his little classic editions described, , . johnson, dr. samuel, commends small books, , , ; a favorite edition of his "idler," ; his "prayers" in tribute typography, ; on our knowledge of ancient britain, . josephus, flavius, book form inappropriate to, . justification, requirements of, , . justinian, facsimile page of his "digestum novum," _frontispiece_. keats, john, folio inappropriate to, ; inappropriate forman edition of, ; "on first looking into chapman's homer," , ; small bulk of his work, . kelmscott press, _see_ morris, william. kennerley type, commended, . kipling, rudyard, on reading him, . "knickerbocker," irving's, book design in editions of, , . knowledge, necessary to success in life, ; obtainable in its fulness only through books, ; progress possible only in, , . kuran, sources from which it was compiled, . lamb, charles, on grace before reading, ; on hazlitt, . large-paper copies, condemned, , . latin literature, masterpieces of, , . leadership developed under stress, . leading, as affecting legibility, ; as affecting spacing, , . leather, employment in binding, - . le gascon, binder, his work, . legend, of pictures, proper place of, . legibility, elements of the book as related to, - ; "exceptions to the rule of legibility," , , - ; influence on, of paper, type, and ink, ; "types and eyes: the problem," - , ---- "progress," - . leland, charles godfrey, on forethought, . length of line, . lenox, james, mortified by a misprint, ; patron of henry stevens, ; "recollections of," by stevens, , _footnote_. le sage, alain rené, his "gil blas," . "lest we forget the few great books," - . letters, _see_ capital letters; manuscript; minuscules; silent letters; type. lewes, george henry, a misprint in one of his works, . librarians, "books as a librarian would like them," - ; a duty to their successors, ; meeting of british, in , . libraries, as affected by spelling reform, ; development in the united states since , ; electrical batteries of power, ; put to needless expense for big books, , for rebindings, ; "the student and the library," - . library company of philadelphia, size of library in , . library hand, bodoni's italic resembles, . library of congress, size in , . lightness, in books, deceptive, , . lincoln, abraham, his greatness brought by responsibility, . lincoln cent, lettering on, . line, endings should not show too many hyphens, ; normal length for legibility, . linnaeus, quoted, . linotype, gives a turned line, . literature, the book beautiful of service to, ; its treasures, - ; print a contribution to, ; type appropriate to, - . little and brown, publishers, their "british poets" compared with pickering's "aldines," . little classic editions, , , . littré, Ã�mile, typography of his "dictionnaire," . lloyd, henry demarest, on headlines, quoted, . locker-lampson, frederick, inappropriate edition of his "my confidences," . london registrar general, misprint, . longfellow, henry wadsworth, book design appropriate to his "works," ; his "michael angelo," ; his sonnets on dante, ; holiday edition of his "skeleton in armor," ; "life," appropriate edition of, ; quoted, . lowell, james russell, member of new england group of authors, . macaulay, thomas babington, knew "paradise lost" by heart, . mcclellan, general george brinton, his limitations, . malherbe, françois, welcomes a misprint, . mammoth, picture of, a prehistoric book, . manuscript, chief difference from print, ; distinctions in, ; importance to bookmaking, ; limitations of, ; ruskin on, ; still used in private records, . _see also_ papyrus; parchment. margin, size and proportions of, , . marriage service, misprint in, . material of the book, changed twice in two thousand years, . materials of writing, . mather, cotton, list of errata in his "magnalia," . mathews, william, as an author, ; his memory of choice passages, ; on reading ten pages a day, . maxim, sir hiram, quoted, . "meaning, print as an interpreter of," - . mearne, samuel, binder, . memory, erasmus on art of strengthening, , ; value of a well-stored, . "men of the time," famous misprint in, , . ménage, gilles, acknowledged his indebtedness to the elzevirs, . mexican book, pre-columbian, ornamented, ; described, , ; picture writing of, . michelangelo, his "moses" as a product of genius, . milton, john, debt of daniel webster to, ; gave metric hints by spelling, ; hazlitt on, ; his greatness, , ; his spelling, , ; lamb would say grace before reading, ; a misprint in "samson agonistes," ; on the deprivation caused by his blindness, , ; a spelling reformer, . minuscules, legibility, - , ; of late origin, . misprints, "the perversities of type," - . montaigne, "journal of his travels," in three volumes, . morgan, lloyd, cited, . morris, william, as printer, , ; confesses faults of ignorance in book making, ; his kelmscott editions, "tribute typography," ; on shape of dot of _i_, ; on types, , , . mosher, thomas bird, his "tribute typography," . motteux, peter anthony, his translation of "don quixote," . moulton, charles wells, "library of literary criticism," its attractive book design, . names, place of, in development of the alphabet, . near sight, , . necker, jacques, student's blunder concerning, . new england, its communities of readers, , ; its group of authors, , . new humanistic type, commended, ; special form of _a_, . new york mercantile library, size in , . newspapers, extraordinary development of speed and cheapness in, ; legibility, , , , ; opponents of spelling reform, ; place in reading, . newton, sir isaac, quoted, . nickel, as a substitute for paper, , _footnote_. novels, in a favorite book size, ; in illegible type, ; on reading, ; three-volume, ; typical book of to-day, . "nuremberg chronicle," a characteristic folio, . oculist's tests of legibility, . ormsby, john, his translation of "don quixote," . ornamentation, in bindings, , , , ; in type, . "orthographic reform," - . ossian, hazlitt on, . owen, robert, a famous misprint concerning, . "oxford book of english verse," thin-paper edition preferred, . "oxford english dictionary," corrects a misprint, ; its typography, . oxford india paper, , , ; miniature editions on, , . oxford students cause a misprint in the marriage service, . oxford university press, reward for misprints, . page, proportions of, , , - . palm leaves, used for book of india, . pannartz and sweynheym, grandeur in their work, . paper, best for the eye, , ; buff tinted, for legibility, , ; determines the expression of the book, , ; introduced into europe, ; of the book beautiful, ; of the chinese book, - ; "thick paper and thin," - ; three elements of, . papermaker, a spoiler of books, , . papyrus roll, and booklovers, ; described, - . parchment, origin, , ; "parchment bindings," , ; parchment book and booklovers, . payne, roger, binder, . peacock, thomas love, his novels in thick and thin paper, , . peel, sir robert, misprint concerning, . penmanship, _see_ manuscript. pergamum, origin of parchment in, , . "periodical, the," resembles a chinese book, , . "personal power, a secret of," - . "perversities of type," - . philadelphia mercantile library, size in , . "philobiblon," by richard de bury, significance of the title, . photogravures, in connection with type, . pickering, william, a disciple of aldus, ; his characteristic books, , , compared with little and brown's "british poets," , their predecessors, contemporaries, and successors, ; his "diamond classics" on large paper, , ; method of book design, ; publisher, . picture writing, , . pictures, earliest books were, - . _see also_ illustrations. pillow, general gideon johnson, misprints concerning, . pindar, as characterized by mrs. browning, . plato, as characterized by mrs. browning, ; contributor to bible of humanity, ; riches of, . pocket editions, , . poe, edgar allan, quoted, , , ; small bulk of his poetry, . poetry, hazlitt on, , ; print as an interpreter of its meaning, , ; type appropriate to, , . pope, alexander, a ghost word referred to him, , ; hazlitt on, . possessions, distinguished from property, , . "power, a secret of personal," - . powers of leadership developed under stress, . pre-columbian book, _see_ mexican. prehistoric background of the book, - . press, errors of, - . pressman, a spoiler of books, - . presswork, requirements of, . prices, as affected by italic, , by the small books of the elzevirs, ; fancy, what they mean, ; of choice books compared with those of other art objects, ; of choice books not excessive, . "print as an interpreter of meaning," - . _see also_ typography. printer, as affected by spelling reform, ; a spoiler of books, , ; what the librarian asks of him, , . printer's errors, - . printing, added only speed and cheapness to book production, ; distinctions to the eye in, - ; of chinese books, ; "printing problems for science to solve," - ; would be benefited by contemporary calligraphy, . _see also_ typography. privilege of the reader, - . "problems, printing, for science to solve," - . progress, possible only in the field of knowledge, , . proof, authors' additions in, . proofreader, requirements of, ; a spoiler of books, , . property, distinguished from possessions, , . proportions of the page, , , - . prosody, _see_ poetry. public, value of reading to the, , . publication of books for , . publisher, librarian's grievance against the, - ; a spoiler of books, , . punctuation, and legibility, ; in poetry, - . puritans, less modern than horace, ; a puritan's devotion to calvin, ; shakespeare best reading for, . putnam, george haven, on the elzevirs, . rapid reading, - . rare books, relatively cheap, . readable print, _see_ legibility. "reader's high privilege," - . reading, aid of print to, , ; amount possible in a lifetime, ; erasmus on art of, ; john beattie crozier on, , ; "lest we forget the few great books," - ; means intellectual effort, ; of contemporaries, , ; results of ten pages a day, ; "the student and the library," - ; systematic, - ; true end and aim of, ; value, to the public and to the individual, - ; when travelling, , . reading aloud, print as an aid to, , . rebindings, costly, unnecessary, . rebus, place in development of alphabet, . reference books, ; effective typography of, , . reformed spelling, - . registration, requirements of, . rembrandt, his drawing of the elephant, ; his "school of anatomy," as a product of genius, . reprinting of perishable records, . responsibility, a stimulus to greatness, . "respublicæ variæ," published by the elzevirs, described, , . "rhetoricorum ad c. herennium libri iiii," the aldus edition of described, . roethlein, barbara elizabeth, on "the relative legibility of different faces of printing types," - . rogers, bruce, his centaur type commended, . roll, _see_ papyrus. roman alphabet, _see_ alphabet. roman codex, _see_ codex. roman literature, masterpieces of, , . romance literatures, . romans, surpassed by moderns in knowledge, . royal octavo, pitfall of the book designer, , . ruskin, john, editions of his works contrasted, ; on manuscript books, ; on reading sir walter scott, . russia, annual book publication, ; illiterate communities of, , . sanborn, franklin benjamin, his "beacon biography" of longfellow, . sanford, edmund clark, on "the relative legibility of the small letters," - . scaliger, julius caesar, his learning, . schiller, cited, . school books, misfortune of treating classics as such, , ; type in, , . school children, increase of near sight among, . school of typography, proposed by henry stevens, - . science, "printing problems for science to solve," - . scott, sir walter, alterations in the proof-sheets of his "waverley novels," ; a ghost word in his "monastery," ; goethe on, ; ruskin on, . "secret of personal power," - . sequoyah, his cherokee syllabary, . serifs, necessary to prevent irradiation, ; source of confusion in types, , . shakespeare, william, "hamlet" preferred in youth, ; hazlitt on, ; his "apocrypha," on thin paper, ; his character and greatness, - ; lamb would say grace before reading, ; "lear" preferred in old age, ; misprints in his works, ; privilege of reading, , , ; quoted, , ; reading, ; the spelling of his works, , ; tribute of blackmore to, . shelley, percy bysshe, an editor's error in his "skylark," , ; inappropriate forman edition of, ; read by young men, . shelton, thomas, his translation of "don quixote," . sight, relation of the elements of the book to, , , - ; "types and eyes: the problem," - , ---- "progress," - . sign language, . silent letters, cost to english world, . size, determines expression of the book, ; "favorite book sizes," - ; of books preferred by librarian, ; of letters and legibility, , ; question of an ideal size of type, ; standardization of book sizes, , . _see also_ bigness; thickness; thinness. skeat, walter william, on ghost words, . smirke, robert, illustrator of barlow's "columbiad," . smollett, tobias george, on reading him, . society of printers, address under its auspices, , _note_. socrates, in a bible of humanity, . sophocles, as characterized by mrs. browning, , . southey, robert, a favorite edition of, . spacing, between words, ; of letters in words, . spain, illiterate communities of, , . spanish, language, ; spelling, . spectacles, a measure of civilization, . spedding, james, at cambridge university, . spelling, milton gave metric hints by, ; "orthographic reform," - . spenser, edmund, hazlitt on, ; his spelling, ; lamb would say grace before reading the "fairy queen," ; milton's spiritual kinship to, . standardization of book sizes, , . sterne, laurence, a favorite edition of, . stevens, henry, "a constructive critic of the book," - ; detects a misprint, ; his "my english library," ; his "recollections of mr. james lenox," , _footnote_. stevenson, robert louis, on hazlitt, . stoddard, richard henry, on cervantes and shakespeare, . storage of books, _see_ bigness, thickness, thinness. strassburg cathedral, as a product of genius, . "student, the, and the library," - . study, art of, , . success, won by knowledge, . swedish spelling, . sweynheym and pannartz, grandeur in their work, . taste, _see_ esthetics. tauchnitz editions, compared with little classic editions, . tennyson, alfred, and his brothers at cambridge university, ; inappropriate edition of his "life," ; a novel reader, . tests, of the utility of the book, ; of type, - . thackeray, william makepeace, at cambridge university, ; on reading him, ; quoted, ; works in illegible print, . theocritus, as characterized by mrs. browning, . thickness, in books, esthetic effect of, , ; "thick paper and thin," - . thinness, in books, esthetic effect of, ; "thick paper and thin," - . thompson, francis, indicated caesura by an asterisk, . thomson, james, hazlitt on, . thoreau, henry david, member of the new england group of authors, , . thou, jacques auguste de, binding made for, . title-page, problems of, . torrey, joseph, on reading dante, , . translations of "don quixote," , . tribute typography, - , , . type, aims in its design, , , ; chinese, ; contrast of, , ; "exceptions to the rule of legibility," , , - ; faults of german and french, ; in relation to the book beautiful, - , ; page, , ; "perversities of type," - ; reform of, ; "types and eyes: the problem," - , ---- "progress," - . _see also_ italic; page. typewriting, a form of print, . typography, primarily a reduction of cost, ; school of, proposed by henry stevens, - ; tribute typography, - , , ; a triumph of, . _see also_ print. united states, annual book publication, ; library development since , . updike, daniel berkeley, his comic edition of irving's "knickerbocker," , ; his specimen pages of the "imitatio christi," . "value of reading, to the public and to the individual," - . values, two great classes, , . vergil, dante's master, ; did not write for children, ; his aeneid, ; scanty punctuation in earliest manuscript of, . verse, _see_ poetry. vision, _see_ sight. ward, artemus, _pseudonym_, adopts a misprint, . webster, daniel, debt to milton, . webster, noah, his "collegiate dictionary" on thin paper preferred, ; his "unabridged dictionary" on large paper, . wendell, barrett, on barlow's "columbiad," . wheatley, henry benjamin, on "literary blunders," , . whitman, walt, on the world's greatest books, , . whittier, john greenleaf, member of new england group of authors, . whittingham, charles, method of book design, ; printer, . "who spoils our new english books?" by henry stevens, . wilberforce, samuel, bishop of oxford, a famous misprint concerning, , . wordsworth, dorothy, on favorite books, . wordsworth, william, a favorite edition of, ; read by old men, . world almanac, commended, , . writing, _see_ authorship; manuscript; materials. xenophon, contributor to a bible of humanity, ; did not write for children, . +------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's notes: | | | | table of contents: the chapter heading "the value of | | reading" is an abbreviation of the chapter heading on page | | . left as is | | | | page : full stop added after "was but a book" | | | | page : techiness _sic_ | | | | page : kuran and kurán _sic_ | | | | page : comma added after "daily" | | | | page : full stop added after "before him" | | | | page : ae in aeschylus replaced with ae ligature to | | match text in book | | | | page : page numbers for "exception to the rule of | | legibility" re-arranged into ascending order | | | | page : ae in respublicae variae replaced with ae | | ligatures to match text in book | | | | page : page numbers for "exception to the rule of | | legibility" re-arranged into ascending order | | | | hyphenation has been standardised. one instance of | | ink-maker/ink maker retained. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ http://www.ebookforge.net [illustration: helps for students of history the wanderings and homes of manuscripts m. r. james] helps for students of history. no. edited by c. johnson, m.a., and j. p. whitney, d.d., d.c.l. the wanderings and homes of manuscripts by m. r. james, litt.d., f.b.a. provost of eton sometime provost of king's college, cambridge london society for promoting christian knowledge new york: the macmillan company the wanderings and homes of manuscripts the wanderings and homes of manuscripts is the title of this book. to have called it the survival and transmission of ancient literature would have been pretentious, but not wholly untruthful. manuscripts, we all know, are the chief means by which the records and imaginings of twenty centuries have been preserved. it is my purpose to tell where manuscripts were made, and how and in what centres they have been collected, and, incidentally, to suggest some helps for tracing out their history. naturally the few pages into which the story has to be packed will not give room for any one episode to be treated exhaustively. enough if i succeed in rousing curiosity and setting some student to work in a field in which an immense amount still remains to be discovered. in treating of so large a subject as this--for it is a large one--it is not a bad plan to begin with the particular and get gradually to the general. some specimen pedigrees of mss. i take my stand before the moderate-sized bookcase which contains the collection of mss. belonging to the college of eton, and with due care draw from the shelves a few of the books which have reposed there since the room was built in . the first shelf i lay hands upon contains some ten large folios. four of them are a single great compilation, beginning with a survey of the history of the world and of the roman empire, and merging into the heraldry of the german _noblesse_. it was made, we find, in , and is dedicated to henry viii. large folding pictures on vellum and portraits of all the roman emperors adorn the first volume. it is a sumptuous book, supposed to be a present from the emperor ferdinand to the king. how did it come here? a printed label tells us that it was given to the college by henry temple, viscount palmerston, in (he had previously given it to sir richard ellys on whose death lady ellys returned it: so much in parenthesis). then, more by luck than anything else, i find mention of it in the diary of thomas hearne, the oxford antiquary; his friend thomas jett, f.r.s., owned it and told him about it in : he had been offered £ a volume for it; it was his by purchase from one mr. stebbing. it was sold, perhaps to palmerston, at jett's auction in . the gap between henry viii. and stebbing remains for the present unfilled. so much for the first draw. next, a yet larger and more ponderous volume, _decreta romanorum pontificum_--the papal decretals and the acts of the councils. it is spotlessly clean and magnificently written in a hand of the early part of the twelfth century, a hand which very much resembles that in use at christchurch, canterbury. i am indeed, tempted to call it a canterbury book; only it bears none of the marks which it ought to have if it was ever in the library of the cathedral priory. was it perhaps written there and sold or given to a daughter-house, or to some abbey which had a less skilful school of writers? not to rochester, at any rate, though rochester did get many books written at christchurch. if it had belonged to rochester there would have been some trace, i think, of an inscription on the lower margin of the first leaf. no; the only clue to the history is a title written on the fly-leaf in the fifteenth century, which says: "the book of the decrees of the pope of rome," and it begins on the second leaf "_tes viii_." that does not tell us much; i do not recognize the handwriting of the title, though i guess it to have been written when the book came to eton college. all i can say is that here is an example of a large class, duplicates of indispensable and common works, which the abbey libraries possessed in great numbers, and often parted with, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, to colleges and private purchasers. next we take out a thin folio written on paper. this time it is a greek book which we open; it has the works of the christian apologists athenagoras and tatian, and a spurious epistle of justin martyr, copied in by valeriano of forlí. a single ms. now at paris, written in , is the ancestor of all our copies of these texts; but it has been shown that this eton book is not an immediate copy of that, but of one now at bologna. obviously it was written in italy. how does it come to be here? sir henry wotton, provost of the college, spent the best part of twenty years in italy, mainly as ambassador to the court of venice for james i., and left all his mss. to the college at his death in . there are numbers of mss. from italy in this bookcase, and, though hardly any of them have wotton's name in them, it is not to be doubted that they came from him. a good proportion of them, too, can be traced back a step farther, for they have in them the name or the arms or the handwriting of bernardo bembo of venice, the father of the more famous cardinal pietro bembo. this justin volume is not of that number, but we have a clue to its history which may be deemed sufficient. i turn to another shelf and open a large book written somewhere about the year , which was given to the college in by one of the fellows; in it belonged to john rogers (if i read the name right). it contains st. jerome's commentary on daniel and the minor prophets, followed by a tract of st. ambrose, and another ascribed to jerome (subject, the hardening of pharaoh's heart), which was in reality, we are now told, written by a pelagian. it is a very uncommon text. after that we have jerome's (so-called) prophecy of the fifteen signs which are to precede the last judgment--of which signs, let it be said in passing, there is a fine representation in an ancient window in the church of all saints, north street, at york. can we trace this volume any farther back than ? i think so; the ambrose and the two spurious tracts of jerome (one, as i said, being of very rare occurrence) are entered, in that order, in the catalogue of the library of peterborough abbey. the library has long been dispersed, but the catalogue remains, and was printed by gunton in his history of the abbey. but the said catalogue makes no mention of the commentary of jerome, which fills out of the leaves of our book. a serious obstacle, it will be said, to an identification; yet a long series of observations, too long to be set out here, has led me to the conclusion that our peterborough catalogue makes a practice of not entering the main contents of the volumes, but only the short subsidiary tracts, which might else escape notice. and without much hesitation i put down the book before me as a relic of the peterborough library. somewhat higher up stands a very stout book bound in old patterned paper. the material of it is paper too, the language is greek, and the contents, for the most part, canons of councils. there are two hands in it; one is perhaps of the fourteenth century, the other is of the early part of the fifteenth. this latter is the writing of one michael doukas, who tells us that he was employed as a scribe by brother john of ragusa, who held some position at a church council, unnamed. there were two johns of ragusa, it seems, both dominicans, one of whom figured at the council of constance in , the other at that of basle in . the latter must be the right one, for there are still greek mss. at basle which belonged to the dominicans of that city, and were bequeathed by the second john at his death in . the book is important, because the first thing in it is the only copy of a treatise ascribed to st. athanasius, called a synopsis of holy scripture. this treatise was printed first in by an editor named felckmann, and no ms. of it has been used or known since. where did felckmann find it? in a ms. which belonged to pierre nevelet, procured for him (the editor) by bongars, a distinguished scholar of orleans. now, the eton book has in it a whole series of names of owners, some erased, but decipherable. the earliest seems to be joannes gastius, who in gave it to johannes hernogius (as i doubtfully read it). then come petrus neveletus and his son, i(saac) n(icolas) neveletus. evidently, then, we have here the ms. which felckmann used, and we arrive at some date after . in or daniel mauclerc, doctor of law, living at vitry le françois, is the owner. he leaves france (the family were huguenots), and brings the book to holland. his son jacques, doctor of medicine, has it in , in england; his nephew, john henry mauclerc, also m.d., succeeds to it and enters his name in , and gives it to mr. roger huggett, conduct and librarian of the college, who died in . this is an unusually full and clear pedigree. one more, and i have done. this time it is a copy of the polychronicon of ranulph higden, monk of chester; it was the popular history of the world and of england for anyone who could read latin in the fifteenth century. no abbey library could be without it, just as no gentleman's library could be without a copy of the english chronicle called the brut. here is a case in which we know the beginning and end of the book's wanderings, but not the middle of the story. the arms of eton adorn the beginning of each of the seven "books" of the chronicle, so we may take it that it was owned from the first by a member of the foundation. an inscription tells us that within the fifteenth century it belonged to the carthusians of witham in somerset, and was given to them by master john blacman. here is light. john blacman was fellow and chanter of eton, then head of a house (king's hall) in cambridge, and lastly a carthusian monk. he was also confessor to henry vi., and wrote a book about him. in a ms. at oxford there is a list of the books he gave to witham, and among them is this polychronicon. more: he has prefixed to the text a pedigree of the kings of england from egbert, illustrated with drawings, the last of which is the earliest known representation of windsor castle. we have not, then, to complain of lack of information about the early stages of the history; but then comes a gap, and between the dissolution and the early part of the nineteenth century, when rodd of london had it and sold it to the fourth earl of ashburnham, i can (at present) hear nothing of the book. in quite recent years it passed from the ashburnham family to mr. h. y. thompson, from him to mr. george dunn, and at his death was bought back for its first home. there, then, are half a dozen histories of mss., fairly typical and fairly diverse. naturally i have picked out books which have some traceable story. very many have none. we can only say of them that they were written in such a century and such a country, and acquired at such a date: and there an end. rebinding and loss of leaves, especially of fly-leaves, have carried off names of owners and library-marks, and apart from that there are but very few cases in which we are warranted in proclaiming from the aspect and character of the script that a book was written at one particular place and nowhere else. i think it will be seen, from what has been said, that my subject is one which depends for its actuality upon the accumulation of a great number of small facts. there is, of course, a broad historical background: no less than the whole history of western europe since the period of the barbarian invasions. that cannot be looked for here, of course; but there are certain _data_ of capital importance which cannot be spared, and some plotting out of the whole field is indispensable. the limits of the subject greek and latin mss. are the main subject. oriental books we do not even touch upon, and vernacular books in english or french have to take a secondary place; and we may treat first of the greek, for it is by far the most compact division. in the case of both greek and latin books we shall ask where and when they were chiefly made, when and how they left their early homes, and where they are to be found now. we shall rule out the whole of what may be called the classical period--the libraries of alexandria and pergamon, the bookshops of martial's time--yes, and even the fourth-century library of cæsarea--for of these we have no relics. our concern is with what exists to-day, or what did exist until the nation, which has contributed so largely to learning and history in the past, turned apostate, and to its lasting shame destroyed and dispersed what more ignorant men had spared. the mischief germany has done--and it will be long before we learn the full extent of it--she has done with open eyes. we think primarily of belgium and north-eastern france as the scenes of her worst devastations, but she has not confined her work of spoliation to them. the balkan provinces and russia held great masses of greek and slavonic mss. as yet very incompletely known. the actual invasions of german troops, and the wars and revolutions which germany has fostered in those regions, can hardly have been less mischievous than her operations in the west. greek mss.: production and dispersion the area in which greek mss. were produced in the medieval period was (with negligible exceptions) confined to greece proper, "turkey in europe," the levant, and south italy. in the monastic centres, particularly mount athos, there were and are large stores of greek books, the vast majority of which are theological or liturgical; and the theological authors most in vogue are those of the fourth and later centuries. copies of primitive christian authors or classical ones are comparative rarities. true, one or two of surpassing interest have been found in such libraries; a famous plato was brought by dr. e. d. clarke from patmos, and is at oxford now; the treatise of hippolytus against heresies came in the forties from a monastery to the paris library. but these are exceptions. we have to look at constantinople as by far the most important centre of learning and of book-production. the city was full of libraries, public and private, and of readers. the culture of the place was, no doubt, self-contained; it did not aim at enriching the outer world, which it despised; its literary productions were imitative, the work of _dilettanti_ and decadents. nevertheless, it preserved for us wellnigh all that we now have of the best literature of greece, and, but for a few catastrophes, it would have handed on much more. of thirty-two historical writings read and excerpted by photius in his _bibliotheca_, late in the ninth century, nineteen are lost; of several of the attic orators, lysias, lycurgus, hyperides, dinarchus, he possessed many more speeches than we have seen. michael psellus, who died about , is credited (i must allow that the evidence is not of the best) with writing notes on twenty-four comedies of menander, of which, as is well known, we have not one complete. in the twelfth century john tzetzes and eustathius apparently had access still to very many lost authors. in short, before the latin occupation of constantinople in , the remains of ancient greek literature very notably exceeded their present bulk. much of it, no doubt, was preserved in single copies, and only a narrow selection of authors was in constant use for educational purposes. only three plays out of seven of Æschylus, for example, were read in the schools. the rest, with sophocles and apollonius rhodius, practically depended for their survival on the famous copy now at florence. instances might be multiplied. the threads of transmission to which we owe most of the euripidean plays, the anthology, the history of polybius, the works of clement of alexandria, the christian apologists, the commentary of origen upon st. john, are equally slender. we cannot doubt that the sack of constantinople by the crusaders was, in its obliteration of works of art and of literature, far more disastrous than the capture of the city by the turks in . for the best part of a century before the latter date, the export of precious mss. to italy had been going on, and many of our greatest treasures were already safe in the hands of scholars when the crash came. nor is it possible, i believe, to show that between and many authors whose works no longer exist were read in byzantine circles. that there was destruction of books in is no doubt true; but within a very few years the turks had learned that money was to be made of them, and the sale and export went on at a great rate. european centres for greek mss.: continental thus the drafting of greek mss. into the libraries of western europe has been a long and gradual process. many of the best, that were secured by individual scholars such as giannozzo manetti, aurispa, and niccolo niccoli, found their way into the laurentian library at florence; others, collected by nicholas v. (d. ), are the nucleus of the vatican collection; a third set was the gift of the greek cardinal bessarion (d. ) to venice. but probably in quality, and certainly in quantity, the bibliothèque nationale in paris excels even the italian storehouses of greek mss. the premier greek ms. of france is a copy of the works attributed to dionysius the areopagite, which the greek emperor michael the stammerer sent to louis the pious in the year . it was long at the royal abbey of st. denis, but strayed away somehow; then, bought by henri de mesmes in the sixteenth century, it came into the royal library in , and has been there ever since. its present number is bib. nat. grec . another treasure of ancient times which was once at st. denis is the sixth-century uncial greek ms. of the prophets known as codex marchalianus, now in the vatican; but when it came to france is not clearly made out. coming to later times, the not inconsiderable collection made by francis i. received a notable increase in that of catherine de' medici, once the property of cardinal ridolfi, and the reigns of louis xiv. and xv. were for it an epoch of rapid growth. between and the number of volumes swelled from , to , . the revolution period added the collection of coislin, or rather of séguier-- more. at the present day paris must possess , greek mss. in central europe vienna may be reckoned the chief repository. it contains the remarkable collection of the traveller augier de busbecq, made in the east about , which was once at augsburg. spain--i think principally of the escurial library--has suffered from depredation and from fire, and is poorer than the prominence of its early contributions to the cause of learning deserves. greek mss. in england it is a temptation, when one turns to england, to enlarge upon the early history of greek scholarship in the country, but it is a temptation which must be resisted. we had a share in preparing for the revival of learning. roger bacon and grosseteste (i say nothing of the earlier age, of theodore of tarsus and bede) were men whose work in this direction has hardly met with full appreciation as yet; and later on we gave erasmus a welcome and a home. but we did not rival italy or france in the early scramble for greek books. such classical mss. of first-class value as we possess have been importations of the seventeenth and later centuries. let me, however, speak somewhat more in detail. there was a turbulent person called george neville, who died archbishop of york in . it is evident, though not, i think, from anything that he wrote, that he was interested in greek learning, and not only theological learning. a ms. of some orations of demosthenes now at leyden contains a statement by the scribe that he wrote it for archbishop neville in . this is our starting-point. now, the scribe in question--emmanuel of constantinople--generally writes a hand (ugly enough) which no one who has once seen it can fail to recognize. this hand appears in a not inconsiderable group of books: in a plato and an aristotle now at durham, in a suidas given by the chapter of durham to lord oxford (brit. mus., ms., harl. , ), in a rather famous new testament at leicester, in three psalters at oxford and cambridge, and in half of another copy of suidas at oxford. in this second suidas emmanuel's hand is associated with another, equally easy to recognize--that of joannes serbopoulos. serbopoulos lived, i know not how long, in the abbey at reading, and transcribed several greek mss. now in oxford and cambridge libraries; he was still at work in the first years of the sixteenth century. this little episode is one that demonstrates, in a rather pleasing way, the value of the study of handwritings and of the inscriptions written by scribes; the light it throws on the history of scholarship is unexpected, and is worth having. two biblical mss. of high importance came to england as gifts to our sovereigns. one was the well-known codex alexandrinus (a), given to charles i. in by cyril lucar, the reforming patriarch of constantinople. of the other i shall take leave to say more. it was that known as the cottonian genesis, which was brought over by two greek bishops "from philippi" and presented to henry viii. it was a sixth-century copy of the book of genesis, written in uncial letters and illustrated, we are told, with pictures. queen elizabeth passed it on to her tutor, sir john fortescue, and he to sir robert cotton, the collector of a library of which we shall hear more in the sequel, and in that library it remained (when not out on loan) till saturday, october , . on that day a fire broke out in ashburnham house in westminster (where the cotton and royal libraries were then kept), and the bookcase in which the genesis was suffered horribly. the cotton mss.--for i may as well explain this matter now as later--were kept in presses, each of which had a bust of a roman emperor on the top. they ran from julius to domitian, and were supplemented by cleopatra and faustina. augustus and domitian had but one shelf each (augustus contained charters, drawings, and the like; domitian was originally, perhaps, a small case over a doorway); the others had usually six shelves, lettered from a to f, and the books in each shelf were numbered from i. onwards in roman figures. the genesis was otho, b vi., and the three presses of galba, otho, and vitellius were those in which the fire did most mischief. no complete leaf is left of genesis; there are bits of blackened text and pictures, a few of which strayed to the library of the baptist college at bristol. the text had been examined by competent scholars for editions of the greek old testament, and we are able to judge of its value; but of the pictures, alas! no list or description had been made. still, something is known. an eminent french polymath, the sieur de peiresc (whose life by p. gassendi is well worth reading), borrowed the book from cotton, and had careful copies of one or two of the illustrations made for him, and these exist. and a further interesting fact has come out: by the help of our scanty relics a student of art, professor tikkanen, of helsingfors, in finland, was able to show that the designers of a long series of mosaic pictures from genesis in st. mark's at venice must have had before them either the cotton genesis or its twin sister, so closely do the mosaics follow the compositions in the ms. in somewhat similar fashion, by gift from the reformer theodore de béze, the university of cambridge acquired its greatest greek treasure, the codex bezæ (d) of the gospels and acts in elizabeth's reign. the riddles which its text presents have exercised many brains, and i do not know who would allow that they are finally solved. another famous ms., the unique lexicon of photius, was acquired by thomas gale, dean of york, early in the eighteenth century--one would like to know where. to my eye it bears signs of having been long in western europe, if not in england. roger gale gave it, with his own and his father's other mss., to trinity college, cambridge, in . on the whole, however, cambridge has not been nearly so fortunate as oxford in accumulating greek books. oxford had a magnificent present in from its chancellor, the earl of pembroke, of mss. purchased in block from the venetian barocci, and in made a great and wise purchase of more, contained in the collection of another venetian, the abate canonici. in the interval such diverse benefactors as laud and cromwell had enriched it with some very notable gifts. the pedigree of one of laud's mss. may be familiar, but is too illuminating to be omitted. it is a seventh-century copy of the acts of the apostles in greek and latin. the earliest home to which we can trace it is sardinia; a document connected with that island is written on a fly-leaf. then we find indisputable evidence that bede, writing early in the eighth century, had access to it; he quotes in his _retractations_ on the acts readings which are characteristic of it; and as he never left his monastery in the north, we may be sure that the book was at jarrow or wearmouth in his time. after that it disappears until laud buys it. like many of his books, it came to him from germany, a spoil of the thirty years' war. these various _data_ are best linked up if we suppose ( ) that the ms. was brought from italy to england by theodore of tarsus or his companion abbot hadrian in ; ( ) that it was taken from england to germany after bede's death by one of the companions of st. boniface, the apostle of that country, and remained there, in or near fulda, perhaps, until the convulsion which threw it back upon our shores. take another illustration. when john leland, in henry viii.'s reign, visited the library of canterbury cathedral, he saw there part of the old testament in greek--chiefly the poetical books and the psalter. he does not mention the pentateuch. nevertheless, it can be shown that that was also there, for among the canonici mss. in the bodleian is one of the thirteenth century containing genesis to ruth in greek, which has on a margin the inscription, legible though erased: "liber ecclesie christi cantuarie." how it left england at the dissolution one may guess easily enough, but what its fortunes were before it came to light again at venice i believe there is nothing to show. * * * * * speaking broadly, then, of the destinies of greek mss., i may repeat that they were produced in a comparatively small area, that a great many of the most precious ones were concentrated in one place, and that from the fourteenth century onwards they became objects of desire to the great ones of the earth, who vied with each other in sending special emissaries to collect them. as a result, the greatest treasures were soon locked up in the libraries of princes and prelates, and became less commonly exposed to dispersion and sale than latin books. we must remember, too, that as a rule the monasteries of western europe did not collect greek mss.; they possessed a chance one here and there, as we have seen, but rather as curiosities than as books to be used.[a] to the noble and the scholar there was a flavour of distinction about a greek ms. which was wanting to all but the most venerable and beautiful of the latin ones. there is still much to be done in the investigation of the history and relationships of greek mss. in spite of the numberless editions of the great authors, and the labour that has been lavished upon them, i believe that scholars would agree that in very few cases, if any, is the transmission of the text at all perfectly known. for some writings we have too little ms. evidence, for some so much as to be embarrassing. in no case can we afford to neglect and to leave unrecorded anything that a ms. can tell us as to its place of origin, its scribe, or its owners. names and scribblings on fly-leaves, which to one student suggest nothing, may combine in the memory of another into a coherent piece of history, and show him the home of the book at a particular date, and by consequence unveil a whole section of the story of its wanderings. with one little instance of this kind i will bring to an end my remarks on this first and shorter portion of my subject. in the library of corpus christi college at cambridge is a greek psalter written in the middle of the twelfth century. on one of its last pages is scribbled in greek letters by a later hand the name of john farley ("[greek: hiôhannês pharlehi]"). only about five-and-twenty volumes away from this stands a ms. containing letters written by the university of oxford on public occasions. one of these is signed by j. farley. a little enquiry elicits the fact that john farley was official scribe of that university near the end of the fifteenth century. the greek psalter, then, was pretty certainly at oxford in farley's time. what do we know of greek mss. then at oxford? we know that bishop robert grosseteste of lincoln owned such things, and that he bequeathed his books to the franciscans of oxford at his death in ; and when we examine the psalter again, we find that it is full of notes in a hand which occurs in other greek mss. known to have belonged to grosseteste, and which i take to be grosseteste's autograph. so the mere occurrence of john farley's name helps us to write the history of the book from within a hundred years of its making until the present day. procured by grosseteste some time before , it passes to oxford, and remains there till the grey friar's convent is dissolved by henry viii. then there is a gap of a generation at most. matthew parker, archbishop of canterbury, acquires it (believing it, absurdly enough, to have belonged to archbishop theodore in the seventh century), and bequeaths it to his college of corpus christi in . latin mss. we turn to the latin division, and here the difficulty of selecting lines of procedure is very great. a paragraph of historical preface, at any rate, must be attempted. at the period of the barbarian invasions--the fifth century--the learned countries were italy, france (especially southern france) and spain. of these three, italy may be described as stationary or even decadent, but she possessed greater accumulations of books than either of the other two. the result of the invasions was, no doubt, that libraries were destroyed and education dislocated; but there was another result, as we have lately begun to realize--namely, that in the case of france there was a transplanting of culture to another soil. a number of teachers fled the country, and some at least came to ireland. this, as far as we can now see, was the beginning of that irish learning which has been so widely, yet so vaguely, extolled. ireland, then, in the late fifth century and the sixth, holds the lamp. its light passes to england in the middle of the seventh century, and from thence, near the end of the eighth, to the court of charlemagne, where it initiates the carolingian renaissance. in the ninth century, when england is a prey to the danes, the carolingian court and the great abbeys of germany are enjoying a vigorous intellectual life, stimulated and enriched by scholars from italy and from ireland. in a general view the tenth and eleventh centuries must figure as a period of degeneration; the twelfth as one of immense intellectual and artistic vigour, culminating in the thirteenth. in the fourteenth the foundations of what we call the renaissance are already being laid, and we have hardly passed the middle of the fifteenth before the ms. has received its death-blow in the publication of the first printed bible. this absurdly condensed review of ten centuries has, i believe, some truth in it, in spite of the fact that every clause needs qualification. we shall have to go over the same ground again a little more slowly. at present we will devote a little time to the beginnings of our period. a few relics of the days before the barbarian invasion have reached us. i am not thinking of the library of rolls found at herculaneum in the eighteenth century, the unrolling and decipherment of which still goes on slowly at naples, nor of the many precious fragments of rolls and books which have come in our own generation from egypt, but rather of those which have been preserved above ground in libraries. such are the virgils of the vatican, of st. gall, and of florence. perhaps a word about these ancient virgils will not be unwelcome. they are cited in all the textbooks, it is true, but i think they are apt to be confused; at any rate it is easy to confuse them. they are five in number: three very fragmentary, two more or less complete. the surnames they go by are _sangallensis_, _augusteus_, _vaticanus_, _romanus_, _mediceus_. _sangallensis_ and _augusteus_ are practically the only pieces of books we have which are written in the old square capitals, like those of the roman inscriptions. _sangallensis_ consists of a few leaves which were found by von arx, a librarian of st. gall, in the bindings of books in that abbey's library. of _augusteus_ there are four leaves at rome (_vaticanus latinus_ , ) and three at berlin; and somewhere, perhaps in a private library in france, is or was another bit which was known to scholars in the seventeenth century. this copy was once at the royal abbey of st. denis. both of these are fourth-century books at latest. _vaticanus_ (_lat._ , ) is a more complete copy, illustrated with fifty paintings in good classical style, and is also assigned to the fourth century. _romanus_ (_vat. lat._ , ), once at st. denis, is a pictured copy too, but not nearly so good in style. _mediceus_, written before a.d. , is at florence (a single leaf of it is bound up with _vaticanus_). it was formerly in the abbey library of bobbio. these three books are written in "rustic capitals." a larger, but still small, group of books of "classical" date are the palimpsests, the most famous of which are at milan and rome. there was a time, early in the nineteenth century, when angelo mai, afterwards cardinal, and prefect of the vatican library, was constantly launching fresh surprises upon scholars, the results of his work in what was then an almost untouched field. large fragments of cicero's _republic_, of lost orations of cicero, of the works of the rhetorician fronto, were issued at short intervals: and all the most important of these were recovered from palimpsests in the ambrosian or the vatican library. they had all come, too, from one place, the same bobbio which has been already named. bobbio was founded by the irishman st. columban (d. ). the list of the early and valuable mss. which can be traced to it would take up a large share of my available space; but among the precious things it owned was a number of quite ancient volumes, the cicero and fronto and others--books sumptuously written in uncial letters in the fourth century, which, sad to say, the bobbio monks themselves broke up, washed out the earlier writing, and covered the pages with texts more immediately useful to them. whence did they come? an answer to that question has been offered recently which finds favour among experts. they are the relics, it is said, of the library formed by cassiodorus at his monastery of vivarium or squillace, in south italy. cassiodorus is a great figure in the history of his own time, and in his influence upon the general course of learning. he was private secretary to theodoric king of the goths; in his old age he retired from public to monastic life, and his last years were devoted to equipping the monks he had gathered about him for study--first and foremost the study of the scriptures, but also, as leading up to that, the study of languages, of history and geography, and, as conducing to the general welfare, of medicine, botany, and other useful arts. it had been a cherished project of his to found an academy at rome where all such learning might be fostered, but that plan failed, and cassiodorus took into his retreat at vivarium all the store of books he had accumulated, and wrote a little manual to guide his monks to the right use of them. his _institutes_ (as the book is called) do not give a set catalogue of his library, but there are many and striking coincidences between the manual and the literary works which can be traced to bobbio. a specimen may be given: he recommends a writer on gardening called gargilius martialis. hardly anyone else mentions this person, and his work had disappeared until mai found pieces of it in a palimpsest at naples which had come from bobbio. we owe much to cassiodorus in any case, for it was he who commended secular learning to monks, and the fact that monks were the great preservers of ancient literature cannot be dissociated from his influence. i shall be glad if the theory i have stated (it is that of the late dr. rudolf beer) proves sound; to have some of the very volumes which cassiodorus handled would be worth much. there is a link between the library of cassiodorus and our own country. a famous latin bible now at florence, the _codex amiatinus_, is known to have been once in england, at wearmouth or jarrow, and to have been taken abroad by ceolfrid, abbot of those monasteries, in as a present to the pope, whom it never reached, for ceolfrid died at langres on his way to rome. the story has often been told, and needs not to be dwelt upon here; but a view has been broached, and is stoutly maintained by sir henry howorth, which does deserve mention and is not yet familiar. it is that the first quire in the amiatine bible, which contains pictures and lists of biblical books, is actually a portion of a bible written for cassiodorus. there is much to be said for this, and at the least we may be sure that it is a direct copy from such a bible. sir henry would go farther, and claim the whole book as cassiodorian. i do not know that expert opinion is prepared to endorse this. the mention of cassiodorus has led us below the date of the "classical" period, for he died in . for one moment i revert to the earlier time to record an interesting example of wandering. illustrated books of the early centuries are the greatest of rarities. the two virgils, the vienna and the cotton genesis, the homer at milan, the gospels of rossano in calabria and those of sinope now at paris, the dioscorides at vienna, the pentateuch of tours, the joshua-roll at the vatican--these are the most famous, and there are very few beside them. among those few are some pieces of a latin bible written in the fourth century, and containing parts of samuel and kings, with paintings which, when fresh, must have been of high excellence. they have unhappily suffered grievous damage, for they were used in the seventeenth century to make covers for municipal documents at the royal and ancient abbatial town of quedlinburg (the scene of canning's _rovers_). the painted leaves are now at berlin; a leaf of plain text remains at quedlinburg. no one doubts that the book to which they belonged was made in italy, and the likeliest history that can be imagined for it is that it was brought as a gift to the abbey by a german prince, say in the tenth century. it is hard to explain the neglect and mutilation of so noble a book, in whose contents there was nothing to offend protestant or other religious susceptibilities. only we find, by numerous examples, that the mss. we should most prize now, those written in capitals or uncials with the words undivided, or in irish or english scripts which became unfamiliar, were uniformly despised and neglected by the readers of later centuries. we meet with notes of this kind in monastic catalogues: "it cannot be read," "old and useless," and the like. still, one would have thought that the pictures of the quedlinburg book would have saved it, even in a german nunnery. chronological survey since this little book is not a treatise on palæography, a manual of art, or a history of learning, and yet has to touch upon all three provinces, it is important to keep it from straying too far into any of them, and this is one of the most difficult tasks that i have ever enterprised. the temptation to dilate upon the beauty and intrinsic interest of the mss. and upon the characteristic scripts of different ages and countries is hard to resist. and, indeed, without some slight elucidation of such matters my readers may be very much at fault. i had begun a geographical survey of the field, taking countries as the units, and had written upon italy and spain, and attempted france. but i found that when the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were reached my tract was becoming a disquisition upon palæography, art, and learning, and, of course, was failing to do justice either to any one of them or to what it had promised in its title. i now think that a chronological survey will be more practicable, and that it will be best to take first the subject of book-production, looking at each country in turn in a single period, instead of following the course taken by each, from the sixth century to the fifteenth. _sixth and seventh centuries._--italy, france, and spain are the main centres. ireland is active in learning, and in the second half of the seventh century england, under archbishop theodore and abbot hadrian, produces schools which rival the irish, and, in the person of bede, has the greatest scholar of the time. some of the great irish monasteries, such as bobbio, luxeuil, st. gall, are founded on the continent. books are produced in considerable numbers in italy, france, spain; and from italy they are exported, especially by english pilgrims, such as benedict biscop. the gospel harmony written in by or for bishop victor of capua comes to england, and goes abroad again, with st. boniface, perhaps, and now rests at fulda, where also his body lies. a copy of st. jerome on ecclesiastes, written in italy in the sixth or seventh century, has in it the anglo-saxon inscription, "the book of cuthsuuitha the abbess." the only abbess cuthsuuitha we know of presided over a nunnery in or near worcester about - . her book travelled to germany with some british or english missionary, and is at würzburg. würzburg is an irish foundation; its apostle and patron, st. kilian, is said to have been assassinated in . from italy, too, came (most likely) the illustrated gospels now at corpus christi college, cambridge ( ), which belonged once to christchurch, canterbury; and the beautiful little copy of st. john's gospel at stonyhurst college, which was found in the coffin of st. cuthbert (d. ) when it was opened in . and st. gall must have acquired its ancient virgil from italy also--when, we do not know. spain kept her books very much to herself, one would guess, judging from the very few spanish mss. of this age which are to be met with in the rest of europe. the guess, however, would not be quite correct. there was one great spanish scholar in the seventh century, isidore of seville ( ), and his encyclopædia (the _etymologies_ or _origins_), which fed many later centuries with learning, made its way all over educated europe very quickly. not only so, but we find english scholars (aldhelm and bede) quoting spanish writers on grammar and spanish poets who were almost their own contemporaries. _eighth century._--this sees the last part of bede's career (d. )--the zenith of english scholarship, the mission of st. boniface (d. ) to germany, the meeting of alcuin with charlemagne ( ), and the beginning of the carolingian renaissance. but, on the other hand, spain is overrun by the moors, italy is inert, england begins to be harried by the northmen. on the whole, if there really was a dark age, the middle of the eighth century seems to answer the description best. but, of course, there were points of light. the great centres of northern france, such as corbie and laon, particularly corbie, were beginning their activities of collecting and copying books. ireland was capable of producing such a work as the book of kells--whether it actually falls within the century or not i will not be positive, but work of the same amazing beauty was carried out before . nor was the export of treasures from italy to england quite stopped, in spite of difficulties. at the plantin museum at antwerp is a copy of the writings of the christian poet sedulius, which has pictures of the old italian sort, such as we find in the frescoes of the roman catacombs. in it is a note connecting it with a bishop of the name of cuthwin, who held the east anglian see and died about . another ms., at paris, has a note describing an elaborately illustrated life of st. paul, which, it says, the same bishop cuthwin brought with him from rome. _ninth century._--there is immense activity, literary and artistic, afoot at the court of charlemagne (d. ) and of his successors. the german abbeys--_e.g._, lorsch, fulda--and cathedral schools (mainz, bamberg, etc.) are full of scribes and teachers. irishmen who know greek flock to the continent, driven from home by danish invasion: such are johannes scottus eriugena and sedulius scottus. they haunt liége, laon, aix-la-chapelle, and penetrate to italy. not less prolific are the french houses: at tours the handwriting called the carolingian minuscule, the parent of our modern "roman" printing, is developed, though not at tours alone. at corbie, fleury on the loire, (now called st. bénoit sur loire), st. riquier by abbeville, rheims, and many another centre in northern and eastern france, libraries are accumulated and ancient books copied. of st. gall and reichenau the same may be said. in italy, verona is conspicuous. the archdeacon pacificus (d. ) gave over books to the cathedral, where many of them still are; and at monte cassino, the head house of the benedictine order, books were written in the difficult "beneventane" hand (which used to be called lombardic, and was never popular outside italy). spain has its own special script at this time, the visigothic, as troublesome to read as the beneventane; its _a_'s are like _u_'s and its _t_'s like _a_'s. england is still overrun by the danes, and does nothing before the very end of the century, when king alfred exerts himself to revive education, and starts a vernacular literature. an enormous proportion of the earliest copies we have of classical latin authors come from this century, when old copies of them were actively sought out and transcribed. often great liberties in the way of revision and even abridgment of the text were taken by the scholars of the time, and, once transcribed, the old archetypes were neglected or even destroyed. books of very great beauty--bibles, gospels, psalters--were produced for the emperors and the great nobles and prelates. in these there is a marked effort to imitate and continue the traditions of classical art. _tenth century._--the tradition of study and scholarship lives on, but the impulse from britain and ireland has worked itself out, and few geniuses are born on the continent. there is a period of splendour and vigour in england under the kings athelstan and edgar and the archbishops odo and dunstan. the calligraphic school of winchester achieves magnificent results. at the end of the century the great teacher and scholar gerbert (pope sylvester ii.) is a prominent figure at the imperial court. the ottos emulate charlemagne in their zeal for literature and for fine works of art, but their attainment is slighter. _eleventh century._--men still live on the traditions of the carolingian revival in the early part: there is later an awakening, principally, perhaps, in france and italy. great names like those of anselm, abelard, bernard, come forward. monastic reform is active; great schools, as at chartres, take their rise; there is a preparation for the wonderful vigour of the next century. the first crusade brings east and west together in a new fashion. _twelfth century._--the strength and energy of europe is now tremendous in every department, and not least in that with which we are concerned. our libraries are crammed to-day with twelfth-century mss. the gregories, augustines, jeromes, anselms, are numbered by the hundred. it is the age of great bibles and of "glosses"--single books or groups of books of the bible equipped with a marginal and interlinear comment (very many of which, by the way, seem to have been produced in north italy). immense, too, is the output of the writers of the time; bernard, hugh and richard of st. victor, peter comestor, peter lombard. the two last are the authors of two of the most popular of medieval textbooks--peter lombard of the _sentences_ (a body of doctrine), peter comestor of the _historia scholastica_ (a manual of scripture history). the cistercian order, now founding houses everywhere, is, i think, specially active in filling its libraries with fine but austerely plain copies of standard works, eschewing figured decoration in its books, as in its buildings, and caring little for secular learning. the university of paris is the centre of intellectual vigour. _thirteenth century._--this is commonly regarded as the greatest of all in medieval history; and truly, when we think of achievements such as westminster, amiens, and chartres, and of men such as st. louis, st. thomas aquinas, st. francis, dante, edward i., roger bacon, we must agree that the popular estimate is sound. certainly we see in france and in england the fine flower of art in buildings and in books. paris is still the centre. the "gothic" spirit is concentrated there. the book trade is enormous. it is passing--under the influence of the university, most likely--out of the hands of the monastic scribes into those of the professional "stationers"; while great individual artists, such as honoré, arise to provide for royal and noble persons examples of art which stand as high to-day as when they were first produced. it is now that we find a large multiplication of textbooks. if the twelfth century was the age of great bibles, the thirteenth is the age of small ones. thousands of these exist, written with amazing minuteness and uniformity. only less common are the aristotles, the _sentences_, the _summæ_, and the other works of the golden age of scholasticism. the orders of friars, franciscan and dominican, form libraries--partly of duplicates procured from older foundations, partly of new copies to which they were helped by charitable friends. towards the end of the century italy comes forward as the great purveyor of books of a special sort. the university of bologna becomes the great law school of europe, and exports in numbers copies of the immense texts and commentaries of and upon the church (canon) and roman (civil) law which were indispensable to the unfortunate student. these books become common at the end of the thirteenth century, and run over well into the fourteenth. they are prettily (but often very carelessly) written in a round gothic hand, sometimes christened "bolognese." some were not only written but decorated (with poorish ornament) on the spot, but very many were exported in sheets and provided, in france or england, with such decoration as the purchaser could afford. a leading example is a copy of the decretals in the british museum (royal , e. iv.) which belonged to st. bartholomew's, smithfield. it is in italian script, but on each of the spacious lower margins of its many pages is a picture by an english artist; these pictures run in sets, illustrating bible stories, legends, and romances. as the centuries go on, the material they have left increases in bulk, and the complication of the threads is proportionately greater. i cannot hope in a survey like this to give prominence to every factor; but we shall not be wrong in fixing upon northern france and england as the areas of greatest productiveness and the sources of the best art in the thirteenth century. before we pass to the next century a word must be devoted to a not unimportant class of books which seem to have been manufactured chiefly in picardy and artois, the illustrated romances--_e.g._ the grail and lancelot--of great bulk, usually in prose, which served to pass the winter evenings of persons of quality. a few of these, and a book of devotions to take to church (oftenest a psalter at this time; later on a book of hours), were the staple books owned by the upper classes. _fourteenth century._--if the thirteenth century gives us on the whole the noblest books, the early part of the fourteenth affords the loveliest. they come from england, france, and the netherlands. a noticeable element in their art is that of the grotesque and burlesque, never, of course, quite absent even from early books, but now most prominent and most delightful. the defect of the art of this time is lack of strength and austerity; its delicacy is above praise. the middle of the century sees petrarch, and with him the renaissance begins. italy has been producing great men in every field, but the work of petrarch reached farther and was more enduring than that of any other. france, tortured by wars, put forth little in the middle years, but then came charles v., a king who was really interested in books, and the library he formed at the louvre gave a stimulus to book-production which spread wide and lasted long. under richard ii. and through his queen, anne of bohemia, a foreign influence makes itself felt in england, and some lovely results are achieved; but on the whole english art is waning. the universities, and to some extent the monasteries, were throughout this century great customers for the bulky books of scholastic divinity (duns scotus, albertus, and the like) and the later generation of commentators on the bible, such as nicolas de lyra and hugo de s. caro. many shelves are filled with these. _fifteenth century._--the fifteenth century is our last; it ends the ms. period. under the influence of the renaissance, now enormously potent, every italian noble forms a library. the scholars are seeking out the ninth-century copies of the classics, and they discard the gothic (black-letter) hands of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries in favour of the carolingian minuscule (or, some say that of the twelfth century). as early as we find books written in a script adapted and refined from this; we call it a roman hand, though the great centre of its propagation seems to have been florence. in all essentials it is the parent of the type in which this page will be printed. italy, then, is the hub of the universe for books; and in italy, florence, naples, and rome are the most active _nuclei_. we have a record written by a florentine bookseller, vespasiano bisticci, in the form of short biographies of great persons, many of whom had dealt with him. for some he provided whole libraries, as for frederick, duke of urbino, whose books are now mostly in the vatican. such a man as this would not look at a printed book--which in vespasiano's mind is, of course, very greatly to his credit; for the press was bound to put an end to his particular industry. we still find, by the way, this prejudice against print in the very last years of the century. some rich persons had ms. copies actually made from printed editions and elaborately illustrated. such a one was raphael de marcatellis, natural son of philip the good of burgundy and titular bishop of rhossus, near antioch.[b] part of his library may be found at ghent, part at holkham, and stray volumes at cambridge (peterhouse) and in the arundel collection at the british museum. they are very handsome books, and many have full-page paintings by capable artists, but the resulting impression is on the whole that of decadence. matthias corvinus, king of hungary (d. ), is a name famous among old bibliophiles. he got together a library of fine books, mostly recent copies made for him, and it was dispersed and sacked by the turks in . it is spoken of with bated breath by the old writers, as if it had contained priceless treasures. i am sceptical. ferdinand of aragon and calabria was a collector of the same kind, whose beautiful books, adorned with his arms in the lower margin of the first page, are many of them at valencia, having passed to the university there by way of the abbey of st. miguel de los reyes. these are of italian and not of spanish manufacture, and very fine they are. these last-mentioned libraries have been scattered, but there are still some of the renaissance period which survive in their original homes. the laurentian at florence and the vatican at rome stand at the head of all. with regard to the latter it may be said that though earlier popes, of course, had libraries (that of avignon was quite considerable), yet nicholas v. (d. ) must be regarded as the founder of the vatican library in its present state. so, too, the marciana at venice and the malatestiana at cesena must rank as genuine renaissance collections. it was not only the great men who loved to have books. the tribe of scholars, foreign as well as native, who coveted them was numerous. every library now has its quota of humbler copies of the classics, often on paper, in the roman or the more cursive italic hand, not written by a professional scribe. often these are of infinitesimal value, transcripts of extant copies of no greater age; but there is always the possibility that they may be a competent scholar's own careful apograph of some ancient ms. which a poggio had unearthed at st. gall, and which has since vanished. a glance at the _apparatus criticus_ of a few editions of classics will show that often a fifteenth-century ms. ranks high among the authorities for the text. pedigree is what matters, not beauty of hand, nor, necessarily, date. it has been the fate of these scholars' books, as it is the fate of all mss., to be absorbed into great libraries, and many of them lurk there still unexamined and their origin undetermined. discoveries, no doubt, yet remain to be made among them. whether or not a breath of influence from italy was the cause, it is plain that library-making was popular in countries and circles which were not obviously affected by the renaissance. the monasteries of england were certainly not so affected, yet we find many of them setting their books in order and building special rooms to contain them. christchurch at canterbury and bury st. edmunds are leading instances. now, too, universities and colleges made fresh catalogues, and received large accessions of books. if the renaissance did not touch the english public as a whole in this century, it made some proselytes. among englishmen who dealt with our florentine vespasiano were john tiptoft, earl of worcester, humphrey, duke of gloucester, william gray, bishop of ely, andrew holes, of wells. others who resorted to italy were john free, thomas linacre, john gunthorpe, dean of wells, william flemming, dean of lincoln, william tilley of sellinge, prior of christchurch, canterbury. we shall see later on what traces some of these have left on our libraries. in places to which the italian influence did not penetrate the humdrum trade of copying went on. anselm, bernard, and augustine; sermon-books by the score; burley on aristotle, etc. then, in another class, the production of books for use in church was very large. there were few bibles, but missals, breviaries, large choir-books to be laid on the lectern, graduals and processionals, are legion. then, again, every well-to-do person must have his or her book of hours, illuminated if possible. such things were common wedding-presents, it seems. upon the best of them really great artists were employed, like foucquet of tours and gerard david; we even find perugino painting a page in one, but the average are shop work made for the italian market at naples or florence, for the french at paris, tours, or rouen, for the english very often at bruges, where also many sumptuous chronicle books and french versions of secular history and romances were turned out. edward iv. had a considerable number of such in his library. these private prayer books are, of course, incomparably the commonest of all illuminated manuscripts. they vary from loveliness to contemptibility. perversely, they figure in catalogues, and are lettered on their backs, as missals; our ancestors of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries forgot that a missal must contain the service of the mass, and that none of these books do. there, then, is a second survey of our ground, somewhat more detailed than the first, but woefully sketchy. everyone who has studied mss. of any class or period would detect omissions in it which for him would vitiate the whole story. the best i can hope is that the assertions in it are not incorrect, and that it gives a true notion of the general course of book-production in medieval times. wanderings of latin mss.: the continent we are now to concern ourselves with the later destinies of the books which we have seen in the making. here generalities will be less in place; nevertheless, i must begin with some. there are two main classes of persons interested in mss.: those who care for their literary contents, and those who prize them for their artistic beauty. roughly speaking--very roughly--the precious literary things of ancient times were preserved in monastic and cathedral libraries, and the beautiful things in palaces and castles and church treasuries. i do not forget that poetry and romance in the vernacular were chiefly in the hands of the laity, nor do i depreciate their value as literature. the ancient books, pagan and christian, are perhaps to be regarded as the backbone of the subject, and therefore the first part of my enquiry shall be devoted to the ecclesiastical libraries, and considerations of space shall rule me on the other head. the monastic and cathedral libraries can be best treated by countries. france, germany, and england will serve as specimens. of italy perhaps enough has been said incidentally to attract attention to the most important centres, such as bobbio, monte cassino, and verona, and upon the whole i do not think that in italy this class of library played so great a part in the later middle ages as it did in the rest of europe. france is full of latin mss. every considerable town, besides many that are inconsiderable, has its public library, into which at the revolution were collected the remains of the libraries of the religious houses of the district. france's dissolution came at a time when many eyes were open to the possible value of ancient books, and strings could be pulled and influence exercised to stem the unreasoning fury that said: we'll pull all arts and learning down, and hey, then, up go we! it is easier, also, to rescue books than buildings. the revolutionists tore down a cathedral, and it is gone; but books are portable and, moreover, do not burn or tear or drown easily, especially vellum mss.; and when the first hurricane of idiocy had blown over they were very likely found, rather dustier than before, still on their shelves. nowadays our methods are more effective, of course; but i have said as much about that as i can bear. if, then, one took a map of france and marked down the principal abbeys, one would have a fair _prima-facie_ indication where to look for their mss. from corbie, you would say, they went to amiens, from cîteaux to dijon, from bec and mont st. michel to avranches, and so on. this would be right, but there are exceptions. corbie, a specially important library, is one. when in the french under louis xiii. regained that territory from the spaniards, the precarious situation of its treasures was recognized, and select mss. were taken to paris. the reformed benedictines of the congregation of st. maur had done much at corbie for the preservation of the books, and they now petitioned that the corbie mss. might not be alienated from the order, "n' ayant personne qui soit si jaloux de conserver l'héritage de leurs pères que les propres enfants." the petition was successful, and the mss. were placed in the abbey of st. germain des près at paris. this was in . in , during the revolutionary troubles, there was a fire at the abbey, and in the confusion a batch of early books was stolen. these came into the hands of a russian envoy, dubrowsky, and most of them, if not all, are (or were until a more recent revolution) in the imperial library at petrograd. the rest, still a great collection, were drafted out of st. germain into the national library in - . meanwhile a large number (including some very important books) had remained at corbie, and these did go to amiens in or about . but before corbie mss. had begun to stray from home. one fairly clear case seems to be that of the harley ms. , , which was once in the library founded late in the fifteenth century at cues, on the moselle, by cardinal nicholas of cues (_cusanus_). it is one of two copies of the latin version of theodore of mopsuestia's commentary on the pauline epistles. the other is a corbie book at amiens. both show the same gaps and blanks in the text, but the one is not believed to be a direct copy of the other. both go back to a common original. other corbie books are at montpellier. they had a long roundabout journey to get there. part of a magnificent collection formed by successive bouhiers (seven of whom were presidents of the parlement de bourgogne, and lived at dijon), they were bought in from the heir of the last bouhier by the last abbot but one of clairvaux. then, when clairvaux was suppressed at the revolution, its library went to troyes. government commissioners were sent round to look through the departmental libraries and note the most valuable mss. and printed books. one of those who visited troyes was a montpellier professor, dr. prunelle. the and odd mss. which he put aside would, if precedent had been followed, have gone to paris, but they did in fact go to the famous old school of medicine at montpellier, and there they are at this day. one at least of the remarkable collection given by archbishop parker to corpus christi college at cambridge ( ), is a corbie book--a product evidently of the corbie _scriptorium_, though it bears on its first leaf the traces of an inscription of ownership which, illegible as it is, does seem to be that of another monastery. parker's is, on the whole, so english a collection that the presence of this early french book arrests attention. it does not, however, stand quite alone; there is a rather similar one ( ) which professor lindsay tells me is a laon book of about the same (eighth-century) date. corbie has occupied a considerable space, but it is entitled to do so on several accounts. the number of early mss. traceable to it is very large, their intrinsic interest is high, and for a third reason i may again quote professor lindsay as having decided, from a minute study of the abbreviations used by corbie scribes, that anglo-saxon influences were at work in the formation of its peculiar hand. corbie was, as i have hinted before, but one of many venerable centres of learning in the northern half of france. i shall not attempt a list of them, but go on to note one salient fact, that the southern half of the country is noticeably the poorer in mss. at autun and lyons, both of them magnificent cities in roman times, some very ancient books did linger, and here is room for a digression. lyons had a pentateuch in latin which was a great rarity, for not only was it in uncials of the fifth century, but it was of the old latin version, that made from the greek before st. jerome made his version from the hebrew, which we call the vulgate. rather before the middle of the nineteenth century an italian adventurer of some learning and little virtue, the chevalier guglielmo (etc.) libri, obtained employment under the french government in the department of public instruction, and was sent on a tour of inspection among provincial libraries. he made this the occasion for increasing a collection of mss. which he had already begun for his private uses. where he found that the town librarian was a good easy man, he removed (silently) from his keeping a selection of the most precious volumes, or, if it seemed unsafe to take the whole of a ms., he detached some few quires. now and then he left a less valuable book in the place of the other. his best hunting-grounds were tours, orléans, and lyons. at lyons he conveyed away the book of leviticus and part of numbers out of the pentateuch. he had skilled workmen in his pay at paris, who wrote names of other (generally italian) monasteries and former owners on the first page of the stolen books, and otherwise disguised them; when he had made up a selection of a suitable bulk and attractiveness, he looked about for a wealthy purchaser, and found one in the earl of ashburnham, who bought _en bloc_, and whose manuscripts were not readily made accessible to the public. so the lyons leviticus and an illustrated sixth-century pentateuch from tours and many other precious things from fleury (near orléans) and elsewhere reposed in england until the early eighties, when m. leopold delisle made public the result of a most patient and most subtle investigation of the whole fraud, and a selection of the best of the plunder was got back for france. sad to say, the municipalities which had been most negligent in keeping their mss. refused to contribute to the recovery of them. they are still at paris, to the advantage of students, but to the discredit of the provinces. meanwhile libri's reputation had been thoroughly blown upon, and he retired from france, and was dead in italy or elsewhere before his crimes had been atoned for. a great mass of his accumulations was bought from the ashburnhams by the italians and is now at florence. madame libri survived, like madame fosco, to defend his memory. to return. in spite of the long history and great wealth of bordeaux, marseilles, arles, narbonne, toulouse, you will not trace many famous books to those places. the city which, on the whole, has preserved its early manuscripts best is albi, but it was never a great centre of learning, and its library, though extremely interesting, is not large. however, we need not be surprised at the poverty of a region which has had to undergo albigensian crusades, english occupation, wars of religion, and a revolution. some of the great early libraries of germany were mentioned in our historical survey. fulda and lorsch were as remarkable as any. at the present day fulda retains only the few bonifacian mss. which rank as relics of the saint--the blood-stained volume of ambrose which was on boniface when the pagans killed him, his pocket copy of the gospels, the ms. written for victor of capua. the bulk of its abbey library, which remained together until the close of the sixteenth century, is dispersed and gone, no one knows where. some books are at cassel in the ducal library. lorsch has nothing _in situ_, but a good deal in the vatican. both houses were instrumental in preserving the classics; we owe to them suetonius, tacitus, ammianus marcellinus, and part of livy. the thirty years' war was responsible for a good deal of dispersion. cargoes of books made their way to england, and archbishop laud bought and gave to the bodleian many from würzburg and erfürt; in the arundel collection at the british museum the german contingent is large. sweden also profited at this time, and got its lovely _codex aureus_ (once at canterbury), its _codex argenteus_ (the gothic gospels at upsala), and its _gigas_, or devil's bible, which came from prague. in the revolutionary period there was extensive secularization of abbeys, and whole libraries passed into central depots, as at munich, which has the mss. of st. emmeram of ratisbon and of tegernsee, benedictbeuern, schäftlarn, and many other houses. those of the old and rich foundation of reichenau passed to carlsruhe. precious books, like the gold-covered gospels of lindau, were exported. this particular gem was bought by lord ashburnham, and in recent years has gone to america. fine gospels and other service-books from weingarten are at holkham; they appeal to the englishman, for they contain pictures of our sainted king oswald, of whom weingarten owned a relic. north germany's contribution is far inferior to that of bavaria and the rhine provinces. the inhabitants of large regions were pagans till a late date (some might say they were so still), and have never, we conceive, been really civilized. few books were made there before the fourteenth century, and i know of no good libraries that existed there in the medieval period. a good part of the contents of one at elbing, near dantzic, came somehow to cambridge (corpus christi) in the seventeenth century; it is a dreary collection, mostly on paper, of scholastic theology, sermons, meditations, and a little medicine. in austria the abbeys were let alone till . such houses as melk on the danube, st. florian, st. paul in carinthia, admont in styria, still owned their estates, their revenues, and their libraries. that of melk is noticeable, and at st. paul is, oddly enough, one of the very earliest irish vernacular mss. i believe it came thither in fairly recent times from st. blasien in the black forest. but, on the whole, these places were too remote from the main stream to accumulate many treasures of the very first quality. latin mss. in england let me now turn to england, and treat in greater detail of the monastic and cathedral libraries there, and what happened to them. the dissolution, as we know, occurred here near on years ago, which makes the task of tracing the books at once harder and more fascinating than in the case of france or germany, where a whole library may be found practically intact in a town near its old home. of course, what was done there ought to have been done here. leland, the king's antiquary, the abusive protestant, john bale, and the foolish but learned dr. john dee, begged that it might be done. yet, whatever henry viii's or mary's or elizabeth's intentions may have been at times as to the foundation of a "solempne library" where the ancient books of the realm might be stored, they got but a very little way. leland did secure some mss. for the royal library, perhaps most from rochester, but upon the whole the work was left in elizabeth's days to individual enthusiasts--sir robert cotton, archbishop parker, and dee and bale themselves. others who did good work were henry fitzalan, earl of arundel; lord william howard; long harry savile of bank; laurence nowell, who rescued anglo-saxon books; nicholas brigam, who was interested in english literature and built chaucer's tomb in the abbey; the theyers of brockworth, near gloucester. these are names to some of which we shall return; it would be well at this moment to take a few libraries one by one and see what can be said of them. catalogues of mss. but, first, what are our means for pursuing such an investigation? we are best off if we have a catalogue of our abbey library, and preferably a late one; for in that case not only will the library be at its fullest, but probably the cataloguer will have set down, after the title of each book, the first words of its second leaf. does this need explanation? perhaps. in mss., unlike printed books, the first words of the second leaf will be different in any two copies, say, of the bible; the scribes did not make a page for page or line for line copy of their archetype--in fact, they may probably have avoided doing so purposely. by the help of such a catalogue we can search through collections of mss., noting the second leaves in each case, and, it may be, identifying a considerable number of books. it is a laborious but an interesting process. but, alas! such catalogues are very few; we have them for durham, st. augustine's abbey, canterbury (and partly also for christchurch), st. paul's cathedral, exeter cathedral, dover priory, the austin friars of york (all now in print), and for not many more. next best it is to have a catalogue enumerating the contents of each volume; and next, and commonest, one which gives usually but a single title to each. among the most useful i reckon those of christchurch, canterbury, peterborough (an anomalous one), glastonbury, bury st. edmunds, rochester, dover, lincoln, leicester abbey (not yet printed in full), ramsey, rievaulx, lanthony-by-gloucester, titchfield. there are a good many short catalogues for smaller houses, written on the fly-leaves of books, which do not, as a rule, help us much. the list of monastic catalogues, however, is dreadfully defective. we have none for st. albans or norwich or crowland or westminster, for gloucester or worcester, st. mary's, york, or fountains. what do we do in such cases? the evidence of mss. themselves we have to depend, of course, on the evidence of the mss. themselves. it was happily a common practice to write on the fly-leaf or first leaf _liber (sancte marie) de (tali loco)_. this is decisive. then, again, some libraries devised a system of press-marks, such as "n. lxviii.," let us say. you find this in conjunction with the inscription of ownership; it is a norwich book, you discover, that you have in hand, and all books showing press-marks of that form are consequently norwich books too. or you will find the name of a donor. "this book was the gift of john danyell, prior." search in dugdale's _monasticon_ will reveal, perhaps, that john danyell was prior of st. augustine's, bristol, in . a clue to locality will often be given in such a case by the monk's surname, for it was their custom to call themselves by the name of their native village. thus, a monk named john melford or william livermere will be a suffolk man, and the abbey in which he was professed is likely to be bury. coming to later times, it is apparent that at the dissolution groups of books from a single abbey came into the hands of a single man. if i find dakcombe on the fly-leaf of a ms., i am almost entitled to assume that it is a winchester book: john stonor got his books from reading abbey, john young drew from fountains, and so forth. lastly, and most rarely, you are justified in saying that the handwriting and decoration of this or that book shows it to have been written at st. albans or at canterbury. hitherto the instances where this is possible are few, but i do not doubt that multiplication of observations will add to their number. in questioning a ms. for any of these indications (except the last) you must be on the look-out for signs of erasures, especially on the margins of the first leaf and on the fly-leaves at either end. here the owner's name was usually written. often it was accompanied by a curse on the wrongful possessor, and at the dissolution there were many wrongful possessors, who, whether disliking the curse or anticipating trouble from possible buyers, thought it well to erase name, and curse, and all. they seldom did it so thoroughly that the surface of the vellum does not betray where it was, and it can be revived by the dabbing (_not_ painting) upon it of ammonium bisulphide, which, unlike the old-fashioned galls, does not stain the page. dabbed on the surface with a soft paint-brush, and dried off at once with clean blotting paper, it makes the old record leap to light, sometimes with astonishing clearness, sometimes slowly, so that the letters cannot be read till next day. it is not always successful; it is of no use to apply it to writing in red, and its smell is overpowering, but it is the elixir of palæographers. yet, when all has been done, there is a sadly large percentage of mss. which preserve an obstinate silence. they have been rebound (that is common), and have lost their fly-leaves in the process, or, worse than that, they have lain tossing about without a binding and their first and last quires have dropped away. in such cases we can only tell, from our previous experience in ancient handwritings, the date and country of their origin. english libraries and now to turn to some individual libraries. some of the most venerable have practically disappeared--that of glastonbury, for instance, the premier abbey of england, the only one which lived through from british to saxon times.[c] to it we might reasonably look to trace many an ancient book belonging to the days of the old british church. leland, who visited the library not long before the dissolution, represents himself as overawed by its antiquity. but almost the only record he quotes is one by "melkinus," which most modern writers think was a late forgery. however, there is in the bodleian one british book from glastonbury, written, at least in part, in cornwall, and preserving remnants of the learning of the british clergy. it has portions of ovid and of latin grammar, and passages of the bible in greek and latin. the catalogue, too, shows that there were in fact a good number of old mss., and also that the monks of the fourteenth century did not care much about them, for they are marked as "old and useless," "old and in bad condition" (_debilis_), and so on. the actual extant books which we can trace to this foundation are few and for the most part late. st. albans, founded by king offa in the eighth century, has left us, as i said, no catalogue, but there are many of its books in our libraries. two groups of them stand out. first are those procured by abbot simon ( - ) and prior mathias. these are very finely written. a typical and very interesting specimen is a bible at eton ( ) which has three columns to a page--a rare distinction in the twelfth century, pointing, perhaps, to its having been copied from a very early and venerable model. it has a sister book at corpus christi, cambridge, and another--a new testament--at trinity college, dublin. then we have a large and important group of histories. the historiographers of st. albans form a series reaching from roger of wendover (d. ) to thomas walsingham (d. ). the greatest of them was matthew paris (d. ). we have authentic and even autograph copies of many of these works, and especially of paris's (at corpus christi, cambridge ( and ), and in the british museum, royal , c. vii., cotton nero d. , etc.). and we have not only paris's writing, but many of his drawings, for he was an accomplished artist. all these books furnish us with material for judging of the handwriting used at st. albans in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and we can speak with fair confidence of st. albans books of that period. as in other cases, i believe that many books were written there for other monasteries, either as gifts or as a matter of business. not every one of the little priories scattered all over the country had its own scriptorium; it was only natural that they should apply to the big establishments when they wanted a bible or service-book or commentary of really good quality. this practice explains the fact that we quite often find books which we could make oath are products of st. albans or of canterbury, and which yet have inscriptions, written when they were new books, showing that they were owned by some small house. let me here note two other ways in which books wandered from the great abbeys. _one_: all the abbey libraries were full of duplicates; read any catalogue, and you will realize that. when the orders of friars were collecting libraries of their own, and when the colleges in the two universities were doing the same, they found that the monks were often willing to part with one of their eight or nine sets of gregory's _moralia_ or augustine _on the trinity_ for a consideration. _two_: most of the large abbeys maintained hostels at the universities, singly or jointly, in which some of their younger members studied for degrees. these hostels were equipped with libraries, and the libraries were furnished from the shelves of the mother-houses. we have at least two lists of books so used: one of those which durham sent to what is now trinity college, oxford; the other of those which christchurch, canterbury, deported to canterbury college, oxford, which stood on the site of canterbury quad, in christ church. there was some compensation, by the way: the abbeys were not invariably the losers. a group of books (at lambeth) was procured to be written by a canon of lanthony when he was studying at oxford (about ), and given to the library of his priory. we have digressed from the particular to the general. returning to individual libraries, let us glance at the norwich cathedral priory. of this, again, we have no catalogue; it is a case in which press-marks and names of owners are our guides. norwich has a system of press-marks consisting of a letter of the alphabet plus a roman numeral: "n. lxviii." the press-marks of several other houses consist of just the same elements, but we can pick out that of norwich by its size (not large) and its position (top of the first leaf of text); also there is usually added to it the name of the monk who procured it for the house, henry de lakenham or w. catton--someone whose surname is the name of a norfolk village. over a hundred mss. from norwich are known to me, but they are a very small fraction of the library, as is shown by the numerals attached to the several class letters. very few of them are as old as the twelfth century; late twelfth and particularly early fourteenth make up the bulk. i attribute this to the great fire of , and i take it that then the greater part of the priory books were spoiled, and that energetic steps to refill the library were taken in the years that followed. there are more norwich books in the university library at cambridge than anywhere else; it has not been proved, but i do not much doubt, that most of them were given by the chapter to cambridge about , at the suggestion of dr. andrew perne, master of peterhouse, who was a member of the cathedral body and an enthusiast for the university library. not very dissimilar was the action of exeter chapter, who in gave over eighty of their mss. to sir thomas bodley's new library in oxford, bodley's brother being then a canon of exeter; and not long after the canons of worcester picked out a score of their mss., for dean williams's new library at westminster abbey. these, however, i believe were never actually sent off. it is just as well, for the westminster mss. were burnt in . of bury st. edmunds i have attempted to write the history elsewhere, but it is not likely that many readers of this book will be familiar with my former publication. the only catalogue we have for this abbey is an early one (eleventh to twelfth century) written on the fly-leaves of a copy of genesis (glossed) at pembroke college, cambridge. thus it contains no fourteenth or fifteenth century books, nor, indeed, has it many entries of extant books of earlier date which we are sure belonged to bury; but it is not to be despised, though we depend more upon press-marks than upon it for guidance. bury press-marks were an introduction of the late fourteenth or early fifteenth century. soon after abbot curteys built a library, and it was under the care of the monk, john boston, who, i think, is responsible for the press-marks, as he certainly is for the copious bibliographical notices which occurred in some of the books. the press-marks consist of a capital letter and an _arabic_ numeral (a. ). here, again, one has to be familiar with the handwriting of the marks and their position (top of first leaf and fly-leaf) in order to distinguish them from those of exeter (often on last fly-leaf and large) or of the hereford franciscans (large, on first fly-leaf). however, in most cases they are backed up by the older inscription _liber s. Ædmundi regis et martiris_. bury library has, on the whole, fared well; an alderman of ipswich, william smart, procured over of its mss., which he gave to pembroke college, cambridge, in , and about others are scattered up and down the country. one bury book of extreme interest--not a library book, but a register--was taken across the channel in the sixteenth century by a bury monk to the settlement of the benedictine refugees at douai. since the revolution it has been (_perhaps_ still is) in the town library there. its importance is that it contains a list of the benefactors of the abbey, and among other things records the burial-places of the abbots, including the famous samson. in recent years it has guided excavators to the discovery of his bones. with it is a psalter of extraordinary beauty, one of a group of marvellous books done in east anglia--some say at gorleston--soon after . i grieve to hear that it has been severely damaged by damp. it has in it the name of an abbot, john, who, i wish to believe, was of bury, but doubt is thrown on this. english mss. on the continent a digression is allowable here as to english books that have passed to the continent. according to bale and dee, there was a great expatriation of them at the dissolution. in archbishop parker's correspondence there is talk of the negotiations of a german scholar, flacius illyricus, who wanted to buy bale's mss. after his death. at an earlier time poggio visited england in the hope of unearthing classical authors, but writes as if he had been unsuccessful. then, again, sigismund gelenius in edits at basel treatises of tertullian from a ms. belonging to the abbey of "masbury" (which i take to be malmesbury), lent to him by leland. more instances could no doubt be collected, but not, i think, very many more. when we come to enquire what english books are to be found now in continental libraries, the results are not very impressive. i exclude the very early exportations, some of which have been mentioned, and confine myself to the books which were taken over at and after the dissolution. there is a bury psalter with drawings at the vatican, a st. albans psalter at hildesheim, a fine book of hours at nuremberg, a winchester pontifical at rouen, a sherborne book at paris, a ramsey psalter at an austrian abbey, another english psalter at the escurial. the canterbury _codex aureus_ is at stockholm. the famous utrecht psalter, written, perhaps, in the rheims district, strayed from the cotton collection to its present home in holland, we do not know how. all these, and some other remarkable illuminated books that could be named (i ought not to omit a peterborough psalter at brussels), are not library books, but rather properties of great ecclesiastics or nobles. the largest collections have never yet been thoroughly searched. i myself have made many enquiries and some examinations with small result. one case there is, however, brought to light by the late rev. h. m. bannister, which gives hope of better things when a systematic search is carried out. he found that in the vatican library there are quite a large number of mss. from the libraries of the friars at cambridge. they are late and not very important books, but no matter for that: the point is that they are there. other instances known to me are--one at least of sir kenelm digby's mss. and one of lord burleigh's (a fourteenth-century volume of english historians) at paris; the greek demosthenes already noticed at leyden, and a ms. from pembroke college (seneca), also there. the vossian collection at the same place has other books which i suspect were once in england; most notable is its suidas, which is said by m. bidez to be the parent of the english copies i mentioned, and which i think must be grosseteste's own copy. this, however, is a greek ms. a volume containing poems of milo of st. amand is most likely a canterbury book. but the early books in irish script, of which there are several, were probably written on the continent. at wolfenbüttel is a "wycliffe" bible, large and handsome, which belonged to lord lumley (d. ), and also a copy of gervase of tilbury (that from which the text was first printed by leibnitz) from the library of st. augustine of canterbury. there, too, are many mss. collected by flacius illyricus, who made purchases in england. he printed many of the rhyming latin poems attributed to walter map; for a good many his edition is the only authority, his mss. having disappeared. i had hoped to find some of them at wolfenbüttel, but they do not seem to be there. what i did find was a small group of mss. from st. andrews in scotland, containing rhyming poems set to music; they are books of the thirteenth century, well written and decorated. scotch monastic mss. are of rare occurrence. there are few enough in scotland itself, not many in england, and, of course, still fewer anywhere else. at upsala is a book written by clement maydestone of sion for wadstena, the swedish mother-house of the brigittine order to which he belonged. there were probably some english books at turin, which was a mixed collection, but the fire of has made away with them. the old catalogue by pasini notices at least one service-book with english saints. but it is time to bring this excursus to an end. let me only add that the most famous english book on the continent--the vercelli ms. of anglo-saxon poems and homilies--seems to have been where it is now since the thirteenth or fourteenth century. remains of medieval libraries once again we return to these shores, and now we will enquire what medieval libraries, besides those we have glanced at, have left really considerable remains. some few have kept their books _in situ_--the monastic cathedrals of durham and worcester best of all; each has some hundreds of mss. the secular cathedrals, lincoln, hereford, salisbury, come next. rochester has nothing on the spot, but a great many mss. in the old royal library in the british museum. the two great libraries of canterbury (christchurch and st. augustine's) are well represented, but their books are much scattered. winchester, york, exeter, have few but precious books. there are important mss. from thorney at the advocates library, edinburgh; from st. mary's york, at dublin; not a few from cirencester at jesus college, oxford, and at hereford; st. john's, oxford, has many from reading and from southwick (hants). there must, i am sure, be many peterborough books to be found, but they are rarely marked as such, and the character of the catalogue makes identification very hard. of all minor libraries, that of lanthony, near gloucester, has, i believe, been best preserved. a great block of it was retained by the last prior of the house, john hart, who retired to a country house near by, and whose sister married a man of good position, theyer, in the neighbourhood. he kept the books together, and had descendants who valued them and added largely to their number. at the end of the sixteenth century archbishop bancroft conceived the idea of founding a library at lambeth for his successors, and he seems to have bought about lanthony mss. from theyer,[d] which are now at lambeth. other lanthony books are at trinity and corpus christi, oxford. a fourteenth-century catalogue of the books among the harley mss. shows that we possess at least a third of the whole collection. examples of the press-marks used by the various houses have been collected by the new palæographical society, and may be seen in their publications. they are, of course, most useful in cases where the inscription of ownership has not been inserted or has disappeared. the second case may be that of any book; the first is common to the canterbury libraries, to dover, the london dominicans, st. mary's york, fountains, titchfield, ely. to the press-marks figured by the society more will doubtless be added. i can instance one, that of the franciscans of lincoln, which is of this form: [illustration: symbol]. disappearance of classical and other mss. passing over the painful subject of the wholesale destruction of mss. which must have followed the dissolution, i will give a few lines to an interesting question little mooted as yet. is there evidence that england possessed many ancient writings which have since disappeared, or which have survived only in a few copies in other parts of europe? take the classics first. poggio, as i have said, writes in a disappointed tone of his researches here, but these were neither long nor exhaustive. we have better testimony from john of salisbury, who in the twelfth century quotes parts of the _saturnalia_ of macrobius which have dropped out of all the mss. we now have. he also read a tract attributed to plutarch, called the _instruction of trajan_; it was probably not by plutarch, but it was an ancient work, and is now lost. petronius arbiter was known to him, even that longest and most interesting piece of petronius called the _supper of trimalchio_, for which our only authority is the late paper ms. at paris that was found in dalmatia in the seventeenth century. but no medieval english scholar can be shown to have read tacitus, or the lost parts of livy, or catullus, tibullus, propertius, or others of the rarer latin authors. next for christian antiquity. the vercelli ms. gives a poetical version in anglo-saxon of the acts of st. andrew in the land of the anthropophagi which have ceased to exist in latin (so, too, Ælfric knew, and rejected, a poem on the adventures of st. thomas in india). in one of its homilies the same vercelli ms. presents us with a translation of the apocalypse of st. thomas, a book of which until recently only the name was known. two early mss. contain short quotations in latin from cosmas indicopleustes, a traveller of justinian's time whose work remains only in a few copies, and is in greek. another has a fragment of the lost _book of jannes and jambres_; another a chapter of the _book of enoch_, valuable as one of our few indications that a latin version of it was current. john of salisbury quotes a story about st. paul which seems to come from the ancient apocryphal acts of that apostle. first on the list (twelfth century) of the library of lincoln minster (but lined through as if subsequently lost) is a title _proverbia grecorum_. what this book was is obscure; probably it was a translation from greek by an irish scholar. it is quoted extensively by sedulius, the irishman, and also in a collection of treatises by an unknown york writer (the germans call him the _yorker anonymus_) of the eleventh to twelfth centuries. the work of irenæus _against heresies_ (we only have it complete in latin) was always rare, but there were at least two copies of it in england, one in the carmelites' library at oxford, the other given by archbishop mepham to christchurch, canterbury. the latter, i believe, we still have in the arundel collection in the british museum. the ms. of tertullian which gelenius got from england is gone, and our knowledge of the treatise _on baptism_ which it contained depends wholly on his printed text. i cannot doubt that among the books imported in the seventh century from italy by benedict biscop and theodore and hadrian, and in the great library of york, which alcuin panegyrizes in his poem on the saints of york, there were texts now lost. but the danes made a clean sweep of all those treasures, as they did of the whole vernacular literature of northumbria, undoubtedly a rich one. the scattered indications i have collected in the preceding paragraphs point to the fact that some strange and rare books did lurk here and there in english libraries. it is almost a relief that catalogues do not tell us of supremely desirable things, such as papias on the oracles of the lord, or the complete histories or annals of tacitus. another word on a topic akin to the last. i have said more than once that the men of the later middle ages did not value early books as such; they were difficult to read, and often in bad condition. at first they were apt to be made into palimpsests; but when good new parchment became abundant and comparatively cheap, this practice was dropped. i conjecture that there is no important palimpsest whose upper writing is later than the eleventh century. the fate of the early books is rather obscure to me, but i see that bits of them were not uncommonly used for lining covers and fly-leaves for mss. of the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, and perhaps still oftener as wrappers for documents. binders of the sixteenth century, and especially those who lived after the dissolution, used up service-books and scholastic theology and canon law to a vast extent, but early books not so lavishly. there are cases in which one is left doubtful as to whether the binder or his employer did not insert the old leaves with the definite wish to preserve them. i think of the leaves of a gospel book bound at the end of the utrecht psalter, of a fragment of another fine gospels in an arundel ms. at the college of arms, of some splendid canons of the gospels in the royal ms. . c. xii; but in the cases that follow i think that accident and not design has been at work, viz.: the fragments of several venerable volumes at worcester, admirably edited of late by mr. c. h. turner; the leaves of a great sixth-century bible found by mr. w. h. stevenson wrapping up lord middleton's documents at wollaton; uncial fragments of eucherius in the cambridge university library; other uncial leaves at winchester college; bits of Ælfric's grammar at all souls'; of a gallican missal at gonville and caius; of an early orosius (from stavelot) in the british museum and elsewhere; of an orosius and fortunatus at pembroke college, cambridge; and so on. my examples are set down almost at random. collectors of books we pass now from the monastic circle to that of the learned book collectors before and after the dissolution. many of the best medieval book-buyers were abbots or priors, and the history of their collections is merged in that of their abbeys. leaving them aside, we find in fourteenth-century england one name which everyone has heard--that of richard de bury, bishop of durham, and author of the _philobiblion_. i am inclined to think that he was a humbug; his book is of the kind that it is proper to translate, print on hand-made paper, and bind in a vellum wrapper, but it tells us just nothing of what books de bury had or read, and i could not point to a single work of any importance which he was instrumental in bringing to light or preserving. persons who take pains to advertise themselves as book-lovers or bibliomaniacs are rarely those who render great services to literature. perhaps the libraries of the pre-reformation colleges of oxford and cambridge are the best hunting-grounds for traces of the early collectors. at peterhouse, cambridge is a large bequest from john warkworth, master late in the fifteenth century; another from j. dyngley, fellow, whose books were written expressly for him; yet another from h. deynman, master, who was interested in medicine. here, too, we come upon the tracks of roger marchall, who must rank, on the whole, as a student of natural science. books with his name and his carefully written tables of contents are at peterhouse, gonville and caius, lambeth, the british museum, king's college; one at magdalene college (pepys library) came thither from peterhouse via dr. john dee. walter crome was another fifteenth-century benefactor of the university library and of gonville hall, who, like dyngley, had books written to his order. these are cambridge _data_. just such another list could be made out for some oxford colleges, particularly merton, balliol, and new college. in this bishops william rede of chichester, and john trillek of hereford, and william gray of ely, would figure prominently. the mention of this last name will serve as a pretext for introducing the renaissance scholars. gray, we saw, was one of those who dealt with vespasiano bisticci of florence, though not nearly all of the many mss. of his giving which are at balliol are italian-written; a good number are by flemish and german scribes. the other men to whom i alluded in the same connection were for the most part benefactors of oxford. john tiptoft, earl of worcester, beheaded in for treason, promised a large gift of books to the university, but they never reached it, nor do i know a single ms. to-day that was tiptoft's property, though there can be no doubt that he was a considerable book-buyer. humphrey, duke of gloucester (whom we are now forbidden to call "the good"), did give the university what was then a large library; his name is inseparably associated with the great room of the bodleian, but his books were swept away in edward vi.'s days. some few have come back to their old home, and others are in london and in paris: twenty-nine is said to be the total. he intended further gifts, but he was cut off in , and it is thought that one collection, perhaps his travelling library, was diverted to king's college, cambridge. it is certain that soon after that college possessed some mss., among which such titles as plato's _republic_ in latin and a greek-english dictionary betray a humanistic influence which is not likely to have been that of our founder, henry vi. moreover, the only one of those mss. that remains is a latin version of some orations of st. athanasius, made by a secretary of the duke, and dedicated _to_ the duke; and in the british museum is another volume of athanasius translated by the same man, which actually has duke humphrey's inscription in it. this is respectable evidence in support of the king's college story. william flemming, dean of lincoln, and founder of lincoln college, oxford, gave a number of books to that society which show him to have been interested in the revival of learning; greek mss. are among them. john gunthorpe, dean of wells (d. ), is said by leland to have bequeathed the large collection he brought from italy to jesus college, cambridge. it is scattered and gone from there, but books of gunthorpe's survive in a good many libraries. one deserves special mention--a latin prose version of the odyssey, which he picked up (not in italy, though it is an italian book, but at westminster) in . probably it was the first copy of the odyssey in any form that had come to this country since roman times, unless, indeed, archbishop theodore brought one over in the seventh century. archbishop parker thought that he had, and the ms. which he fondly believed to be theodore's was in his view the pearl of the collection he left to corpus christi. certainly it has the name _theodorus_ in it in letters of gold; but, as certainly, it is a fifteenth-century book, and the theodore for whom it was written was i believe theodore gaza, a humanist who lived in italy. an instance of a man interested in books and not unaffected by the renaissance, though not himself a collector, may be introduced here. william wyrcestre (or botoner, or worcester) is the man, and he deserves a special study. some have called him the father of english antiquaries, in virtue of one of his notebooks which has been preserved, and which contains jottings about his travels in england; it is a sort of rude elementary leland's _itinerary_. it is by no means the only book of his compiling, nor the only one owned by him that we have. there are historical and literary collections of his, and not a few mss. with his name in them. he knew john free, the translator (reputed) of diodorus siculus, and he had read cristoforo buondelmonte's book on the islands of the greek archipelago. a long list of the elizabethan book-collectors could be made, but i shall not attempt one here. two libraries of the time, sir robert cotton's and archbishop parker's, stand out. the main object of both men was to preserve english antiquities, and it is no exaggeration to say that if these two collections, which together number less than , volumes, had been wiped out, the best things in our vernacular literature and the pick of our chronicles would be unknown to us now. we should have no _beowulf_ or _judith_, only inferior copies of the anglo-saxon chronicle and of matthew paris, no layamon, no _pearl_--not to speak of the mass of invaluable state-papers gathered by cotton, and the reformation documents and letters stored up by parker. one touch of blame rests on sir robert cotton. he had a vicious habit of breaking up mss. and binding together sections from different volumes. this disguises the provenance of the books, and by consequence obscures the history of their contents. enough information about the cotton and parker mss. is easily accessible to absolve me from writing much about them here. less is generally known of two dispersed collections, those of john bale and john dee. bale must, i fear, have been an unamiable man--certainly a very queer christian. but his controversial works, on which he doubtless prided himself most, are dead and very rotten, while those devoted to the more peaceful science of bibliography are of abiding value. in his larger one, _scriptorum britannicorum centuriæ_, he inserts a list of the mss. he had once owned; they were no longer in his hands, but, it is to be supposed, in ireland, left there when he fled from his bishopric of ossory on mary's accession. it is not a very scientific list, not one that gives the contents of each volume, but merely names of treatises, groups of which no doubt went to make up volumes, and this makes it difficult to determine how much of his library is in existence now. after his death it was in england, and a syndicate of germans, including, as was said above, flacius illyricus, were negotiating for the purchase of it. archbishop parker also had an eye upon it; he had received books as gifts or loans from bale in former years. i have not been able to make sure whether any of the books did actually go to the continent; i doubt it, in fact. many distinguished by bale's curious small, "flat" handwriting are traceable among cotton's and parker's books, at lambeth, at cambridge, and doubtless also at oxford (where there is at least the ms. of his _index scriptorum_, admirably edited by mr. r. l. poole and miss bateson). bale was a carmelite in his youth and interested in the history of his order, and there is an _a priori_ probability that any book dealing with carmelite affairs will contain marks of his ownership. dr. john dee's history has often been written, and the catalogue of the mss. he owned has long been in print in a camden society volume (_diary of dr. john dee_) edited by halliwell. the main facts of his life that concern us are that he lived at mortlake, and in went on a wild journey to poland. in his absence his house and collections were plundered by a mob, who, not without excuse, thought him a warlock. when he returned in he set himself to recover his scattered property, and to a great extent succeeded. he moved from mortlake to manchester, being made warden of the college there in ; later on he returned, and died at mortlake, much in debt, i think, in . i find from archbishop ussher's printed correspondence that his books were still unsold in ; litigation may have prevented their being dealt with earlier. the lists we have of his mss. date from before his foreign tour; that which is in print was made on the eve of his departure, and contains a little over entries. after the vicissitudes which his collection suffered it is remarkable that one should still be able to identify as extant well over half of it. i have been helped in my searches by certain marks--a little ladder, or the astrological sign of jupiter, or a [greek: delta]--which occur on the first page of many. his handwriting, too, in notes, and certain names of owners (particularly p. saunders) are guides. some of his mss. were bought by ussher, and are at trinity college, dublin, and a few were bought by cotton. but the largest group of them is at corpus christi college, oxford. these were acquired by the great oxford antiquary, brian twyne, who hoped that his college would buy them from him, but this they would not do. happily twyne was not too much hurt by the refusal to leave them to the college at his death. i guess that one reason for his buying them was that some (perhaps many) of them had once belonged to his grandfather, john twyne, a canterbury man of some slight eminence, who in his turn had secured a considerable "lot" of mss. from the library of st. augustine's abbey. in searching out the relics of that great library i found the combination, or pedigree, st. augustine's--john twyne--dee--brian twyne--corpus christi, to be a frequent one, and this set me upon a general investigation of dee's mss. a little notebook of his at corpus christi showed that in early life he had borrowed a number of mss. from peterhouse and from queen's college, oxford. i did not find that these ever got back to their sources, but i do not think that dee was dishonest in the matter; i believe he was allowed to keep them for some consideration received. some of the peterhouse books are traceable in the ashmole collection, the pepys library, and the british museum; of those of queen's college i can say nothing. dee was specially interested in mathematics, alchemy, and, as everyone knows, converse with spirits, but his library was not confined to books on these subjects; he had some excellent historical, literary, and theological mss. one of them was the best copy of alfred's translation of orosius. another library of the sixteenth century deserves to be singled out from the many which offer themselves for notice. it is that of lord lumley (d. ); he inherited the books from henry fitzalan, earl of arundel (d. ). this collection had again been largely recruited from that of archbishop cranmer: the combination t(homæ) c(ranmeri) c(antuar)--arundel--lumley, is often found written on the lower margin of the first leaf of the mss. concerned. these arundel mss., by the way, must not be confounded with the arundel collection in the british museum, nor with that remnant of the same collection which is owned by the college of arms. the arundel mss., so-called, were collected largely by lord william howard (belted will) of naworth, passed on to thomas, earl of arundel (d. ), and devised by henry howard to the royal society, ; they were eventually transferred by the society to the british museum in . the arundel-lumley books had a different destiny. most of them also came to the museum, but by another path. they were bought after lumley's death by or for prince henry, eldest son of james i., and added to the royal library, and that became national property by the gift of george ii. in . we have a catalogue, made about , of the whole library, which is among the gale mss. at trinity college, cambridge. it bears no name of owner, but is easily seen to be lumley's. not all the mss. that we find bearing lumley's name are in it, and not all the mss. in it are in the old royal library. to the second class belong the english bible at wolfenbüttel, the bible of gundulf, bishop of rochester (a fine but plain book which is at cheltenham in the phillipps collection), and the bosworth psalter bought not long ago from a private owner by the british museum. the first class is more numerous; about twenty mss. at lambeth alone have lumley's name, but are not in his catalogue. i conjecture that they were presented by lumley (who was a generous giver of printed books to the universities) to archbishop bancroft when he was forming his collection. so one might go on through ussher, laud, selden, rawlinson, harley, askew, drury, heber, etc., to sir thomas phillipps, whose , mss., good and bad, must be the largest mass of such things ever owned by a single collector. but i think i have said enough of the public and private accumulations of this country to give an adequate idea of the kind of results that attend research, and of the ways in which large blocks of mss. have been handed on to us. the epoch of the sale-room i have not really touched; it demands special tools and a special historian, and it concerns individual books. nor, i will confess, do i feel quite at ease in touching upon the private collections of the present day. there is less objection to surveying such things when they have passed as wholes into public institutions. for example, the mss. collected by the earl of crawford and balcarres were acquired in for the john rylands library at manchester. the latin section of these i have had occasion to examine. it consists of nearly items. the earliest and most remarkable of these almost all own the pedigree of libri-bateman-crawford. of libri enough has been said to make it necessary to note here that none of the crawford mss. owned by him were pilfered from french libraries. the library of bateman of youlgrave was dispersed in ; the libri purchases in it are mostly traceable in the libri sale catalogue of . three tenth-century spanish mss., two from the abbey of s. pedro de cardeña, one from silos, happen, by an odd and lucky accident, to be elaborately described in berganza's _españa sagrada_; how it was that exactly these books came into libri's hands it is not likely that we shall discover. for the rest, lord crawford's purchases at the howell wills sale of were considerable in quantity, and he acquired three fine books at that of ambroise firmin didot in . three others came from the bollandist fathers' library at brussels. one of these had for some years formed part of the very choice collection of the fountaines at narford, in norfolk, scattered in . of less choice quality, but of extreme usefulness to the student, are the mss. bequeathed by frank mcclean in to the fitzwilliam museum at cambridge, and collected by him in the ten or fifteen years before that. here we have few coherent groups of books, unless we reckon as such a certain number of volumes from the cistercian abbey of morimund in north italy, acquired singly, perhaps, by mr. mcclean from hoepli of milan. the phillipps sales account for a good many, the barrois and ashburnham appendix ( and ) for a few more, but most of the books were picked up one by one in auction-rooms or from dealers' catalogues. in both these cases examples of illumination and calligraphy have been primary objects in the collectors' eyes, and that is the ruling passion with most of those who buy mss. nowadays. at the beginning of the nineteenth century what was more coveted was the accumulation of copies of the classics. it had hardly been realized that few of the renaissance classical mss. made in italy have independent textual value, and collectors like askew, drury, canonici, burney, thought that the more of them they had the better. lord fitzwilliam (d. ), who devoted himself to buying french books of hours for the sake of the pictures, was something of a pioneer (at least in england) in this respect. francis douce (d. ) was another; his treasures are in the bodleian. as for sir thomas phillipps, he must have bought by the cart-load: _nihil manu scriptum a se alienum putabat_. in spite of the large amount of rubbish among his , odd volumes, i can never hear without a bitter pang the tale that the university of oxford many years ago shied at his offer of them, accompanied as it was by some tiresome conditions; their fate has been gradual dispersion to every part of europe and to america. i have said that i cannot embark here upon the history of sales of mss. in the last hundred years. but my abstention, due to considerations of space, must not be imitated by my readers. those who deal with modern collections or make collections of their own--a thing still possible for quite modest purses, in spite of the inflated prices which the great books command--are not absolved from the study of sale catalogues; that they will pay attention to book-plates, bindings, and names of owners, i need not repeat. the list of such catalogues issued by the british museum they will find invaluable; the catalogues themselves, alike those of dealers and of sales, will often enable them to trace a particular ms. back through a whole century to some italian palace or flemish abbey, sold up or secularized under the stress of revolution. this period of ms. history has been less well worked than the earlier ones; it is but just ripening, in fact; but to anyone who is bitten with the passion for the books it will prove just as fascinating as the others. curiosities of research by way of conclusion let me come back from generalities to particulars, and attempt to kindle interest and stir the imagination by a few words on waifs and strays--the curiosities of ms. research. some few leading instances have been mentioned, but in thinking over the collections i have examined and the documents i have had to copy or edit, others, less immediately showy, occur to my memory. what has become of the red book of eye in suffolk? it was a copy of the gospels which st. felix of burgundy, the apostle of the east angles, brought with him in the seventh century. it was after his death in a monastery at dunwich. then it passed to a little priory at eye, where leland saw it. after the dissolution it remained with the corporation of eye--now extinct--and people took oaths upon it. it is traceable in the records down to a comparatively late date--within the nineteenth century. can there be truth in the tale i have heard that it was sent for safe keeping to a mansion not far off, and there cut up for game labels? i cannot believe it. no doubt mss. were cut up for game labels. i have seen--years ago--in a london shop one that had turned up in a billiard-room, and its blank margins had been many of them removed for that purpose. but there was a fashion equally reprehensible a hundred years ago of cutting out illuminations from mss. and making scrap-books of them. it was especially common in the case of the great antiphoners and other huge service-books which stood on the lecterns in italian churches. the remainder of the books went to the gold-beaters, perhaps (they used parchment, and in england bought mss. sometimes to cut up), or to a like destination. occasionally books so mutilated have been reconstituted. a leading example is that of a josephus, illuminated in part by the great tours artist jean foucquet. this the late king edward vii. and mr. h. y. thompson were able to combine in restoring. the king had a number of the pictures, cut out, in his library at windsor; mr. thompson had the mutilated text and a pictured leaf or so. the fragments were brought together and presented to the paris library, which already possessed the first volume of the set. a miniature, cut, no one knows how long ago, from a fine twelfth-century bible, was shaken out of a pile of printed copies of a funeral sermon at a country house. the book to which it belonged i believe to be one at lambeth. in mr. samuel sandars bought at a london sale a scrap-book containing two leaves of a beautiful and very early book of hours. he gave them to the fitzwilliam museum. in came the fountaine sale, and then mr. william morris bought the ms. from which these leaves had come. an arrangement was made between him and the museum that he should possess the leaves, replaced in the book, for his life, and then the museum should acquire the whole at an agreed price. alas! he did not live to enjoy the ownership of them long. to find, as the late mr. greenwell of durham found, a leaf of a sixth-century latin bible from wearmouth or jarrow (or perhaps even from cassiodorus's library) in a curiosity shop, is a chance that comes to few. but i have always lamented that i did not pass through the streets of orléans at the time (not many years back) when an illustrated greek ms. of the gospels on purple vellum and in gold and silver uncials was exposed for sale in a shop window. a french officer had picked it up at sinope, and used it to keep dried plants in. however, it went to its rightful and proper home, the bibliothèque nationale. it is getting on for thirty years now since a small parish library in suffolk, founded in , gave to the world the book of the gospels owned by st. margaret of scotland (at oxford), and the unique life of st. william, the boy martyr of norwich, and nicholas roscarrock's register of british saints (both at cambridge). not as long since, in a private library in italy, some leaves were found of the early ms. (from hersfeld abbey in germany) of the minor writings of tacitus from which all our extant fifteenth-century copies descend. still more recently, among a collection of scraps of mss., a half leaf of an eleventh or twelfth century ms. in welsh was detected (a very great rarity); its generous finder (the late mr. a. g. w. murray, librarian of trinity college) gave it to the cambridge university library, and thus added one more to the already remarkable collection of bits of early welsh which cambridge owns. it deals with the dry topic of finding easter, but linguistically it is above price. and now for an example which shows the odd wanderings of _texts_. there is a volume at vienna, from bobbio, made up of palimpsest leaves from many mss., biblical and classical. two of these, apparently from one book, stand next to each other. they have only recently been deciphered; they are in latin uncials of the fifth century. one of them is from the apocalypse of thomas, a book named in an old list of apocryphal writings, but thought until a few years ago to be hopelessly lost. we now know complete mss. of it at munich and a fragment at verona, as well as an anglo-saxon version in the vercelli ms. the other vienna leaf is from an equally apocryphal "epistle of the apostles," never mentioned by old writers, but seemingly of the second century. it gives a dialogue between our lord and the apostles after the resurrection. about dr. carl schmidt, a leading coptic scholar, published an account of a coptic ms. of the greater part of the book (the ms. is at berlin, and some time will be edited); and about a french scholar, abbé guerrier, published a complete version of it from ethiopic mss. which had been in europe for half a century. it is about the last book i should have expected to find in a latin version, and current in italy in the fifth century. the combination of egypt and abyssinia is common enough; but that bobbio should be added to that, and asia minor and greece omitted, is indeed a strange thing. perhaps africa was the parent of the latin version. the moral so texts and books wander, and so do discoveries sometimes lie near our hands. the moral is: be inquisitive. see books for yourself; do not trust that the cataloguer has told you everything. i am a cataloguer myself, and i know that, try as he may, a worker of that class cannot hope to know or to see every detail that is of importance. the creature is human, and on some days his mind is less alert than on others. nor is he interested in everything alike: an apocryphal fragment or an obscure saint will excite me, while a letter of st. bernard which may be unpublished leaves me calm. but in spite of the imperfections of cataloguers, catalogues must be used, and they must be read and not only referred to. the mere juxtaposition of treatises in a volume will often reveal its provenance or its pedigree; besides, there is always the chance i have suggested, that the describer of any ms. may have failed through ignorance or want of attention to see that some article in it is of extreme interest and rarity. so it was that in reading lambecius's (eighteenth-century) catalogue of the greek mss. at vienna i noted down an entry that seemed unusual; and some years after, when i had an opportunity of getting a friend at vienna to look at the tract in question, it was found to be the unique copy of the very most heretical (and therefore interesting) episode of the apocryphal acts of st. john, written in the second century, and copied, to our lasting astonishment and perplexity, by some honest orthodox cleric in the fourteenth. may discoveries infinitely more pleasing fall to the lot of many of my patient readers! bibliographical note the student may consult the following works: j. w. clark: the care of books. cambridge, . e. a. savage: old english libraries. london, . containing a useful bibliography. m. r. james: the ancient libraries of canterbury and dover (cambridge, ); the abbey of st. edmund at bury, ( ) and the catalogues of the mss. of the libraries at eton and at cambridge, by the same author. m. bateson: catalogue of the library of syon monastery, isleworth. . list of catalogues of english book sales, - , now in the british museum. london, . e. a. loew: the beneventan script. oxford, . th. gottlieb: ueber mittelalterliche bibliotheken. leipzig, . t. duffus hardy: descriptive catalogue of materials relating to the history of great britain. rolls series, - . * * * * * billing and sons, ltd., printers, guildford, england footnotes: [a] let not the mss. given by coislin to the abbey of st. germain des prés at paris be quoted against me. they were the collection of a great noble, the chancellor séguier, and the library to which they were presented was practically a public one, whose permanence was seemingly assured. [b] _see_ eubel, _hierarchia catholica medii Ævi_, ii. . [c] we have its catalogue admirably reproduced by thomas hearne, at a time (early in the eighteenth century) when it was rare to find anyone who would take the trouble to make a faithful copy of such a record, with all its erasures and alterations. [d] subsequently theyer, as i said, went on collecting mss., and finally charles ii. bought the whole lot for the royal library. helps for students of history. =no. . episcopal registers of england and wales.= by r. c. fowler, b.a., f.s.a. d. net. =no. . municipal records.= by f. j. c. hearnshaw, m.a. d. net. =no. . medieval reckonings of time.= by reginald l. poole, ll.d., litt.d. d. net. =no. . the public record office.= by charles johnson. d. net. =no. . the care of documents.= by charles johnson. d. net. =no. . the logic of history.= by c. g. crump. d. net. =no. . documents in the public record office, dublin.= by r. h. murray, litt.d. d. net. =no. . the french wars of religion.= by arthur a. tilley, m.a. d. net. _by sir a. w. ward, litt.d., f.b.a.:--_ =no. . the period of congresses, i. introductory.= d. net. =no. . the period of congresses, ii.= vienna and the second peace of paris, s. net. =no. . the period of congresses, iii.= aix-la-chapelle to verona. s. net. (nos. , , and in one volume, cloth s. d. net.) =no. . securities of peace.= a retrospect ( - ). paper s.; cloth s. net. =no. . the french renaissance.= by arthur a. tilley, m.a. d. net. =no. . hints on the study of english economic history.= by w. cunningham, d.d., f.b.a., f.s.a. d. net. =no. . parish history and records.= by a. hamilton thompson, m.a., f.s.a. d. net. =no. . an introduction to the study of colonial history.= by a. p. newton, m.a., d.litt., b.sc. d. net. =no. . the wanderings and homes of manuscripts.= by m. r. james, litt.d., f.b.a. paper cover, s.; cloth boards, s. net. =no. . ecclesiastical records.= by the rev. claude jenkins, m.a., librarian of lambeth palace. =no. . an introduction to the history of american diplomacy.= by carl russell fish, ph.d., professor of american history in the university of wisconsin. s. net. =no. . hints on translation from latin into english.= by alexander souter, d.litt. d. net. =no. . hints on the study of latin.= (a.d. - .) by alexander souter, d.litt. d. net. =no . report of the historical mss. commission.= by r. a. roberts., f.r.h.s., sometime secretary of the commission. (_=others to follow.=_) * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. the original text had one page containing the list of helps on the second page and it was concluded on the last page. the first page was moved to join the last. page , m. bateson was all-capped to match the rest of the format of the bibliography. http://www.ebookforge.net a book for all readers designed as an aid to the collection, use, and preservation of books and the formation of public and private libraries by ainsworth rand spofford g. p. putnam's sons new york & london copyright by a r spofford table of contents. chapter page . the choice of books, . book buying, . the art of book binding, . preparation for the shelves: book plates, &c., . the enemies of books, . restoration and reclamation of books, . pamphlet literature, . periodical literature, . the art of reading, . aids to readers, . access to library shelves, . the faculty of memory, . qualifications of librarians, . some of the uses of libraries, . the history of libraries, . library buildings and furnishings, . library managers or trustees, . library regulations, . library reports and advertising, . the formation of libraries, . classification, . catalogues, . copyright and libraries, . poetry of the library, . humors of the library, . rare books, . bibliography, index, a book for all readers chapter . the choice of books. when we survey the really illimitable field of human knowledge, the vast accumulation of works already printed, and the ever-increasing flood of new books poured out by the modern press, the first feeling which is apt to arise in the mind is one of dismay, if not of despair. we ask--who is sufficient for these things? what life is long enough--what intellect strong enough, to master even a tithe of the learning which all these books contain? but the reflection comes to our aid that, after all, the really important books bear but a small proportion to the mass. most books are but repetitions, in a different form, of what has already been many times written and printed. the rarest of literary qualities is originality. most writers are mere echoes, and the greater part of literature is the pouring out of one bottle into another. if you can get hold of the few really best books, you can well afford to be ignorant of all the rest. the reader who has mastered kames's "elements of criticism," need not spend his time over the multitudinous treatises upon rhetoric. he who has read plutarch's lives thoroughly has before him a gallery of heroes which will go farther to instruct him in the elements of character than a whole library of modern biographies. the student of the best plays of shakespeare may save his time by letting other and inferior dramatists alone. he whose imagination has been fed upon homer, dante, milton, burns, and tennyson, with a few of the world's master-pieces in single poems like gray's elegy, may dispense with the whole race of poetasters. until you have read the best fictions of scott, thackeray, dickens, hawthorne, george eliot, and victor hugo, you should not be hungry after the last new novel,--sure to be forgotten in a year, while the former are perennial. the taste which is once formed upon models such as have been named, will not be satisfied with the trashy book, or the spasmodic school of writing. what kind of books should form the predominant part in the selection of our reading, is a question admitting of widely differing opinions. rigid utilitarians may hold that only books of fact, of history and science, works crammed full of knowledge, should be encouraged. others will plead in behalf of lighter reading, or for a universal range. it must be admitted that the most attractive reading to the mass of people is not scientific or philosophical. but there are many very attractive books outside the field of science, and outside the realm of fiction, books capable of yielding pleasure as well as instruction. there are few books that render a more substantial benefit to readers of any age than good biographies. in them we find those personal experiences and adventures, those traits of character, that environment of social and domestic life, which form the chief interest in works of fiction. in fact, the novel, in its best estate, is only biography amplified by imagination, and enlivened by dialogue. and the novel is successful only when it succeeds in depicting the most truly the scenes, circumstances, and characters of real life. a well written biography, like that of dr. johnson, by boswell, walter scott, by lockhart, or charles dickens, by forster, gives the reader an insight into the history of the times they lived in, the social, political, and literary environment, and the impress of their famous writings upon their contemporaries. in the autobiography of dr. franklin, one of the most charming narratives ever written, we are taken into the writer's confidence, sympathize with his early struggles, mistakes, and successes, and learn how he made himself, from a poor boy selling ballads on boston streets, into a leader among men, whom two worlds have delighted to honor. another most interesting book of biography is that of the brothers william and robert chambers, the famous publishers of edinburgh, who did more to diffuse useful knowledge, and to educate the people, by their manifold cheap issues of improving and entertaining literature, than was ever done by the british useful knowledge society itself. the french nation has, of all others, the greatest genius for personal memoirs, and the past two centuries are brought far more vividly before us in these free-spoken and often amusing chronicles, than in all the formal histories. among the most readable of these (comparatively few having been translated into english) are the memoirs of marmontel, rousseau, madame rémusat, amiel, and madame de staël. the recently published memoirs by imbert de st. amand, of court life in france in the times of marie antoinette, josephine, marie louise, and other periods, while hastily written and not always accurate, are lively and entertaining. the english people fall far behind the french in biographic skill, and many of their memoirs are as heavy and dull as the persons whom they commemorate. but there are bright exceptions, in the lives of literary men and women, and in some of those of noted public men in church and state. thus, there are few books more enjoyable than sydney smith's memoirs and letters, or greville's journals covering the period including george iv to victoria, or the life and letters of macaulay, or mrs. gaskell's charlotte brontë, or the memoirs of harriet martineau, or boswell's life of dr. johnson. among the briefer biographies worthy of special mention are the series of english men of letters, edited by john morley, and written by some of the best of contemporary british writers. they embrace memoirs of chaucer, spenser, bacon, sidney, milton, de foe, swift, sterne, fielding, locke, dryden, pope, johnson, gray, addison, goldsmith, burke, hume, gibbon, bunyan, bentley, sheridan, burns, cowper, southey, scott, byron, lamb, coleridge, keats, shelley, wordsworth, de quincey, macaulay, landor, dickens, thackeray, hawthorne, and carlyle. these biographies, being quite compendious, and in the main very well written, afford to busy readers a short-hand method of acquainting themselves with most of the notable writers of britain, their personal characteristics, their relation to their contemporaries, and the quality and influence of their works. americans have not as yet illustrated the field of biographic literature by many notably skilful examples. we are especially deficient in good autobiographies, so that dr. franklin's stands almost alone in singular merit in that class. we have an abundance of lives of notable generals, professional men, and politicians, in which indiscriminate eulogy and partisanship too often usurp the place of actual facts, and the truth of history is distorted to glorify the merits of the subject of the biography. the great success of general grant's own memoirs, too, has led publishers to tempt many public men in military or civil life, into the field of personal memoirs, not as yet with distinguished success. it were to be wished that more writers possessed of some literary skill, who have borne a part in the wonderful drama involving men and events enacted in this country during the century now drawing to a close, had given us their sincere personal impressions in autobiographic form. such narratives, in proportion as they are truthful, are far more trustworthy than history written long after the event by authors who were neither observers nor participants in the scenes which they describe. among american biographies which will help the reader to gain a tolerably wide acquaintance with the men and affairs of the past century in this country, are the series of lives of american statesmen, of which thirty volumes have been published. these include washington, the adamses, jefferson, franklin, hamilton, jay, madison, marshall, monroe, henry, gallatin, morris, randolph, jackson, van buren, webster, clay, calhoun, cass, benton, seward, lincoln, chase, stevens, and sumner. while these memoirs are of very unequal merit, they are sufficiently instructive to be valuable to all students of our national history. another very useful series is that of american men of letters, edited by charles dudley warner, in fifteen volumes, which already includes franklin, bryant, cooper, irving, noah webster, simms, poe, emerson, ripley, margaret fuller, willis, thoreau, taylor, and curtis. in the department of history, the best books for learners are not always the most famous. any mere synopsis of universal history is necessarily dry reading, but for a constant help in reference, guiding one to the best original sources, under each country, and with very readable extracts from the best writers treating on each period, the late work of j. n. larned, "history for ready reference," five volumes, will be found invaluable. brewer's historic note book, in a single volume, answers many historic queries in a single glance at the alphabet. for the history of the united states, either john fiske's or eggleston's is an excellent compend, while for the fullest treatment, bancroft's covers the period from the discovery of america up to the adoption of the constitution in , in a style at once full, classical, and picturesque. for continuations, mcmaster's history of the people of the united states covers the period from to , and is being continued. james schouler has written a history of the united states from to , in five volumes, while j. f. rhodes ably covers the years to the civil war with a much more copious narrative. for the annals of england, the short history of england by j. r. green is a most excellent compend. for more elaborate works, the histories of hume and macaulay bring the story of the british empire down to about . for the more modern period, lecky's history of england in the th century is excellent, and for the present century, mccarthy's history of our own time, and miss martineau's history of england, - , are well written works. french history is briefly treated in the student's history of france, while guizot's complete history, in eight volumes, gives a much fuller account, from the beginnings of france in the roman period, to the year . carlyle's french revolution is a splendid picture of that wonderful epoch, and sloane's history of napoleon gives very full details of the later period. for the history of germany, austria, russia, france, spain, italy, holland, and other countries, the various works in the "story of the nations" series, are excellent brief histories. motley's rise of the dutch republic and his united netherlands are highly important and well written historical works. the annals of the ancient world are elaborately and ably set forth in grote's history of greece, merivale's rome, and gibbon's decline and fall of the roman empire. another class of books closely allied to biography and history, is the correspondence of public men, and men of letters, with friends and contemporaries. these familiar letters frequently give us views of social, public, and professional life which are of absorbing interest. among the best letters of this class may be reckoned the correspondence of horace walpole, madame de sévigné, the poets gray and cowper, lord macaulay, lord byron, and charles dickens. written for the most part with unstudied ease and unreserve, they entertain the reader with constant variety of incident and character, while at the same time they throw innumerable side-lights upon the society and the history of the time. next, we may come to the master-pieces of the essay-writers. you will often find that the best treatise on any subject is the briefest, because the writer is put upon condensation and pointed statement, by the very form and limitations of the essay, or the review or magazine article. book-writers are apt to be diffuse and episodical, having so extensive a canvas to cover with their literary designs. among the finest of the essayists are montaigne, lord bacon, addison, goldsmith, macaulay, sir james stephen, cardinal newman, de quincey, charles lamb, washington irving, emerson, froude, lowell, and oliver wendell holmes. you may spend many a delightful hour in the perusal of any one of these authors. we come now to poetry, which some people consider very unsubstantial pabulum, but which forms one of the most precious and inspiring portions of the literature of the world. in all ages, the true poet has exercised an influence upon men's minds that is unsurpassed by that of any other class of writers. and the reason is not far to seek. poetry deals with the highest thoughts, in the most expressive language. it gives utterance to all the sentiments and passions of humanity in rhythmic and harmonious verse. the poet's lines are remembered long after the finest compositions of the writers of prose are forgotten. they fasten themselves in the memory by the very flow and cadence of the verse, and they minister to that sense of melody that dwells in every human brain. what the world owes to its great poets can never be fully measured. but some faint idea of it may be gained from the wondrous stimulus given through them to the imaginative power, and from the fact that those sentiments of human sympathy, justice, virtue, and freedom, which inspire the best poetry of all nations, become sooner or later incarnated in their institutions. this is the real significance of the oft-quoted saying of andrew fletcher, that stout scotch republican of two centuries ago, that if one were permitted to make all the ballads of a nation, he need not care who should make the laws. in the best poetry, the felicity of its expressions of thought, joined with their rhythmical form, makes it easy for the reader to lay up almost unconsciously a store in the memory of the noblest poetic sentiments, to comfort or to divert him in many a weary or troubled hour. hence time is well spent in reading over and over again the great poems of the world. far better and wiser is this, than to waste it upon the newest trash that captivates the popular fancy, for the last will only tickle the intellectual palate for an hour, or a day, and be then forgotten, while the former will make one better and wiser for all time. nor need one seek to read the works of very many writers in order to fill his mind with images of truth and beauty which will dwell with him forever. the really great poets in the english tongue may be counted upon the fingers. shakespeare fitly heads the list--a world's classic, unsurpassed for reach of imagination, variety of scenes and characters, profound insight, ideal power, lofty eloquence, moral purpose, the most moving pathos, alternating with the finest humor, and diction unequalled for strength and beauty of expression. milton, too, in his minor poems, has given us some of the noblest verse in the language. there is poetry enough in his l'allegro and il penseroso to furnish forth a whole galaxy of poets. spenser and pope, gray and campbell, goldsmith and burns, wordsworth and the brownings, tennyson and longfellow,--these are among the other foremost names in the catalogue of poets which none can afford to neglect. add to these the best translations of homer, virgil, horace, dante, and goethe, and one need not want for intellectual company and solace in youth or age. among the books which combine entertainment with information, the best narratives of travellers and voyagers hold an eminent place. in them the reader enlarges the bounds of his horizon, and travels in companionship with his author all over the globe. while many, if not the most, of the books of modern travellers are filled with petty incidents and personal observations of no importance, there are some wonderfully good books of this attractive class. such are kinglake's "eothen, or traces of travel in the east," helen hunt jackson's "bits of travel," a volume of keen and amusing sketches of german and french experiences, the books of de amicus on holland, constantinople, and paris, those on england by emerson, hawthorne, william winter, and richard grant white, curtis's nile notes, howell's "venetian life," and taine's "italy, rome and naples." the wide domain of science can be but cursorily touched upon. many readers get so thorough a distaste for science in early life--mainly from the fearfully and wonderfully dry text-books in which our schools and colleges have abounded--that they never open a scientific book in later years. this is a profound mistake, since no one can afford to remain ignorant of the world in which we live, with its myriad wonders, its inexhaustible beauties, and its unsolved problems. and there are now works produced in every department of scientific research which give in a popular and often in a fascinating style, the revelations of nature which have come through the study and investigation of man. such books are "the stars and the earth," kingsley's "glaucus, or wonders of the shore," clodd's "story of creation," (a clear account of the evolution theory) figuier's "vegetable world," and professor langley's "new astronomy." there are wise specialists whose published labors have illuminated for the uninformed reader every nook and province of the mysteries of creation, from the wing of a beetle to the orbits of the planetary worlds. there are few pursuits more fascinating than those that bring us acquainted with the secrets of nature, whether dragged up from the depths of the sea, or demonstrated in the substance and garniture of the green earth, or wrung from the far-off worlds in the shining heavens. a word only can be spared to the wide and attractive realm of fiction. in this field, those are the best books which have longest kept their hold upon the public mind. it is a wise plan to neglect the novels of the year, and to read (or to re-read in many cases) the master-pieces which have stood the test of time, and criticism, and changing fashions, by the sure verdict of a call for continually new editions. ouida and trilby may endure for a day, but thackeray and walter scott are perennial. it is better to read a fine old book through three times, than to read three new books through once. of books more especially devoted to the history of literature, in times ancient and modern, and in various nations, the name is legion. i count up, of histories of english literature alone (leaving out the american) no less than one hundred and thirty authors on this great field or some portion of it. to know what ones of these to study, and what to leave alone, would require critical judgment and time not at my command. i can only suggest a few known by me to be good. for a succinct yet most skilfully written summary of english writers, there is no book that can compare with stopford a. brooke's primer of english literature. for more full and detailed treatment, taine's history of english literature, or chambers' cyclopaedia of english literature, two volumes, with specimens of the writers of every period, are the best. e. c. stedman's victorian poets is admirable, as is also his poets of america. for a bird's eye view of american authors and their works, c. f. richardson's primer of american literature can be studied to advantage, while for more full reference to our authors, with specimens of each, stedman's library of american literature in eleven volumes, should be consulted. m. c. tyler's very interesting critical history of the early american literature, so little known, comes down in its fourth volume only to the close of the revolution in . for classical literature, the importance of a good general knowledge of which can hardly be overrated, j. p. mahaffy's history of greek literature, two volumes, and g. a. simcox's latin literature, two volumes, may be commended. on the literature of modern languages, to refer only to works written in english, saintsbury's primer of french literature is good, and r. garnett's history of italian literature is admirable (by the former keeper of printed books in the british museum library). lublin's primer of german literature is excellent for a condensed survey of the writers of germany, while w. scherer's history of german literature, two volumes, covers a far wider field. for spanish literature in its full extent, there is no work at all equal to george ticknor's three volumes, but for a briefer history, h. b. clark's hand-book of spanish literature, london, , may be used. i make no allusion here to the many works of reference in the form of catalogues and bibliographical works, which may be hereafter noted. my aim has been only to indicate the best and latest treatises covering the leading literatures of the world, having no space for the scandinavian, dutch, portuguese, russian, or any of the slavonic or oriental tongues. those who find no time for studying the more extended works named, will find much profit in devoting their hours to the articles in the encyclopaedia britannica upon the literatures of the various countries. these are within reach of everyone. the select list of books named in this chapter does not by any means aim to cover those which are well worth reading; but only to indicate a few, a very few, of the best. it is based on the supposition that intelligent readers will give far less time to fiction than to the more solid food of history, biography, essays, travels, literary history, and applied science. the select list of books in the fields already named is designed to include only the most improving and well-executed works. many will not find their favorites in the list, which is purposely kept within narrow limits, as a suggestion only of a few of the best books for a home library or for general reading. you will find it wise to own, as early in life as possible, a few of the choicest productions of the great writers of the world. those who can afford only a selection from a selection, can begin with never so few of the authors most desired, or which they have not already, putting in practice the advice of shakespeare: "in brief, sir, study what you most affect." says john ruskin: "i would urge upon every young man to obtain as soon as he can, by the severest economy, a restricted and steadily increasing series of books, for use through life; making his little library, of all his furniture, the most studied and decorative piece." and henry ward beecher urged it as the most important early ambition for clerks, working men and women, and all who are struggling up in life, to form gradually a library of good books. "it is a man's duty," says he, "to have books. a library is not a luxury, but one of the necessaries of life." and says bishop hurst, urging the vital importance of wise selection in choosing our reading: "if two-thirds of the shelves of the typical domestic library were emptied of their burden, and choice books put in their stead, there would be reformation in intelligence and thought throughout the civilized world." selection of books for public libraries. let us now consider the subject of books fitted for public libraries. at the outset, it is most important that each selection should be made on a well considered plan. no hap-hazard, or fitfully, or hastily made collection can answer the two ends constantly to be aimed at--namely, first, to select the best and most useful books, and, secondly, to economize the funds of the library. no money should be wasted upon whims and experiments, but every dollar should be devoted to the acquisition of improving books. as to the principles that should govern and the limitations to be laid down, these will depend much upon the scope of the library, and the amount of its funds. no library of the limited and moderate class commonly found in our public town libraries can afford to aim at the universal range of a national library, nor even at the broad selections proper to a liberally endowed city library. but its aims, while modest, should be comprehensive enough to provide a complete selection of what may be termed standard literature, for the reading public. if the funds are inadequate to do this in the beginning, it should be kept constantly in view, as the months and years go on. every great and notable book should be in the library sooner or later, and if possible at its foundation. thus will its utility and attractiveness both be well secured. taking first the case of a small public library about to be started, let us see in a few leading outlines what it will need. . a selection of the best works of reference should be the corner-stone of every library collection. in choosing these, regard must be had to secure the latest as well as the best. never buy the first edition of soule's synonymes because it is cheap, but insist upon the revised and enlarged edition of . never acquire an antiquated lempriere's or anthon's classical dictionary, because some venerable library director, who used it in his boyhood, suggests it, when you can get professor h. t. peck's "dictionary of classical antiquities," published in . never be tempted to buy an old edition of an encyclopaedia at half or quarter price, for it will be sure to lack the populations of the last census, besides being a quarter of a century or more in arrears in its other information. when consulting sale catalogues to select reference books, look closely at the dates of publication, and make sure by your american or english catalogues that no later edition has appeared. it goes without saying that you will have these essential bibliographies, as well as lowndes' manual of english literature first of all, whether you are able to buy watt and brunet or not. . without here stopping to treat of books of reference in detail, which will appear in another place, let me refer to some other great classes of literature in which every library should be strong. history stands fairly at the head, and while a newly established library cannot hope to possess at once all the noted writers, it should begin by securing a fine selection, embracing general history, ancient and modern, and the history of each country, at least of the important nations. for compendious short histories, the "story of the nations" series, by various writers, should be secured, and the more extensive works of gibbon, grote, mommsen, duruy, fyffe, green, macaulay, froude, mccarthy, carlyle, thiers, bancroft, motley, prescott, fiske, schouler, mcmaster, buckle, guizot, etc., should be acquired. the copious lists of historical works appended to larned's "history for ready reference" will be useful here. . biography stands close to history in interest and importance. for general reference, or the biography of all nations, lippincott's universal pronouncing dictionary of biography is essential, as well as appleton's cyclopaedia of american biography, for our own country. for great britain, the "dictionary of national biography" is a mine of information, and should be added if funds are sufficient. certain sets of collective biographies which are important are american statesmen, vols., englishmen of letters, -- vols., autobiography, vols., famous women series, vols., heroes of the nation series, vols., american pioneers and patriots, vols., and plutarch's lives. then of indispensable single biographies there are boswell's johnson, lockhart's scott, froude's carlyle, trevelyan's macaulay, froude's caesar, lewes' goethe, etc. . of notable essays, a high class of literature in which there are many names, may be named addison, montaigne, bacon, goldsmith, emerson, lamb, de quincey, holmes, lowell, etc. . poetry stands at the head of all the literature of imagination. some people of highly utilitarian views decry poetry, and desire to feed all readers upon facts. but that this is a great mistake will be apparent when we consider that the highest expressions of moral and intellectual truth and the most finely wrought examples of literature in every nation are in poetic form. take out of the world's literature the works of its great poets, and you would leave it poor indeed. poetry is the only great source for the nurture of imagination, and without imagination man is a poor creature. i read the other day a dictum of a certain writer, alleging that dickens's christmas carol is far more effective as a piece of writing than milton's noble ode "on the morning of christ's nativity." such comparisons are of small value. in point of fact, no library can spare either of them. i need not repeat the familiar names of the great poets; they are found in all styles of production, and some of the best are among the least expensive. . travels and voyages form a very entertaining as well as highly instructive part of a library. a good selection of the more notable will prove a valuable resource to readers of nearly every age. . the wide field of science should be carefully gleaned for a good range of approved text-books in each department. so progressive is the modern world that the latest books are apt to be the best in each science, something which is by no means true in literature. . in law, medicine, theology, political science, sociology, economics, art, architecture, music, eloquence, and language, the library should be provided with the leading modern works. . we come now to fiction, which the experience of all libraries shows is the favorite pabulum of about three readers out of four. the great demand for this class of reading renders it all the more important to make a wise and improving selection of that which forms the minds of multitudes, and especially of the young. this selection presents to every librarian and library director or trustee some perplexing problems. to buy indiscriminately the new novels of the day, good, bad, and indifferent (the last named greatly predominating) would be a very poor discharge of the duty devolving upon those who are the responsible choosers of the reading of any community. conceding, as we must, the vast influence and untold value of fiction as a vehicle of entertainment and instruction, the question arises--where can the line be drawn between the good and improving novels, and novels which are neither good nor improving? this involves something more than the moral tone and influence of the fictions: it involves their merits and demerits as literature also. i hold it to be the bounden duty of those who select the reading of a community to maintain a standard of good taste, as well as of good morals. they have no business to fill the library with wretched models of writing, when there are thousand of good models ready, in numbers far greater than they have money to purchase. weak and flabby and silly books tend to make weak and flabby and silly brains. why should library guides put in circulation such stuff as the dime novels, or "old sleuth" stories, or the slip-slop novels of "the duchess," when the great masters of romantic fiction have endowed us with so many books replete with intellectual and moral power? to furnish immature minds with the miserable trash which does not deserve the name of literature, is as blameworthy as to put before them books full of feverish excitement, or stories of successful crime. we are told, indeed (and some librarians even have said it) that for unformed readers to read a bad book is better than to read none at all. i do not believe it. you might as well say that it is better for one to swallow poison than not to swallow any thing at all. i hold that library providers are as much bound to furnish wholesome food for the minds of the young who resort to them for guidance, as their parents are to provide wholesome food for their bodies. but the question returns upon us--what is wholesome food? in the first place, it is that great body of fiction which has borne the test, both of critical judgment, and of popularity with successive generations of readers. it is the novels of scott, austen, dickens, thackeray, george eliot, cooper, hawthorne, kingsley, mulock-craik, and many more, such as no parents need blush to put into the hands of their daughters. in the next place, it is such a selection from the myriads of stories that have poured from the press of this generation as have been approved by the best readers, and the critical judgment of a responsible press. as to books of questionable morality, i am aware that contrary opinions prevail on the question whether any such books should be allowed in a public library, or not. the question is a different one for the small town libraries and for the great reference libraries of the world. the former are really educational institutions, supported at the people's expense, like the free schools, and should be held to a responsibility from which the extensive reference libraries in the city are free. the latter may and ought to preserve every form of literature, and, if national libraries, they would be derelict in their duty to posterity if they did not acquire and preserve the whole literature of the country, and hand it down complete to future generations. the function of the public town library is different. it must indispensably make a selection, since its means are not adequate to buy one-tenth of the annual product of the press, which amounts in only four nations (england, france, germany, and the united states) to more than thirty-five thousand new volumes a year. its selection, mainly of american and english books, must be small, and the smaller it is, the greater is the need of care in buying. in fact, it is in most cases, compelled to be a selection from a selection. therefore, in the many cases of doubt arising as to the fit character of a book, let the doubt be resolved in favor of the fund, thus preserving the chance of getting a better book for the money. with this careful and limited selection of the best, out of the multitude of novels that swarm from the press, the reading public will have every reason to be satisfied. no excuse can be alleged for filling up our libraries with poor books, while there is no dearth whatever of good ones. it is not the business of a public library to compete with the news stands or the daily press in furnishing the latest short stories for popular consumption; a class of literature whose survival is likely to be quite as short as the stories themselves. take an object lesson as to the mischiefs of reading the wretched stuff which some people pretend is "better than no reading at all" from the boy jesse pomeroy, who perpetrated a murder of peculiar atrocity in boston. "pomeroy confessed that he had always been a great reader of 'blood and thunder' stories, having read probably sixty dime novels, all treating of scalping and deeds of violence. the boy said that he had no doubt that the reading of those books had a great deal to do with his course, and he would advise all boys to leave them alone." in some libraries, where the pernicious effect of the lower class of fiction has been observed, the directors have withdrawn from circulation a large proportion of the novels, which had been bought by reason of their popularity. in other newly started libraries only fiction of the highest grade has been placed in the library from the start, and this is by far the best course. if readers inquire for inferior or immoral books, and are told that the library does not have them, although they will express surprise and disappointment, they will take other and improving reading, thus fulfilling the true function of the library as an educator. librarians and library boards cannot be too careful about what constitutes the collection which is to form the pabulum of so many of the rising generation. this does not imply that they are to be censors, or prudes, but with the vast field of literature before them from which to choose, they are bound to choose the best. the american library association has had this subject under discussion repeatedly, and while much difference of opinion has arisen from the difficulty of finding any absolute standard of excellence, nearly all have agreed that as to certain books, readers should look elsewhere than to the public free library for them. at one time a list of authors was made out, many of whose works were deemed objectionable, either from their highly sensational character, or their bad style, or their highly wrought and morbid pictures of human passions, or their immoral tendency. this list no doubt will surprise many, as including writers whose books everybody, almost, has read, or has been accustomed to think well of. it embraces the following popular authors, many of whose novels have had a wide circulation, and that principally through popular libraries. here follow the names: mary j. holmes, mrs. henry wood, c. l. hentz, m. p. finley, mrs. a. s. stephens, e. d. e. n. southworth, mrs. forrester, rhoda broughton, helen mathers, jessie fothergill, m. e. braddon, florence marryat, ouida, horatio alger, mayne reid, oliver optic, w. h. s. kingston, e. kellogg, g. w. m. reynolds, c. fosdick, edmund yates, g. a. lawrence, grenville murray, w. h. ainsworth, wilkie collins, e. l. bulwer-lytton, w. h. thomes, and augusta evans wilson. bear in mind, that only english and american novels are included, and those only of the present century: also, that as to many which are included, no imputation of immorality was made. such a "black list" is obviously open to the charge of doing great injustice to the good repute of writers named, since only a part of the works written by some of them can properly be objected to, and these are not specially named. bulwer-lytton, for example, whose "paul clifford" is a very improper book to go into the hands of young people, has written at least a dozen other fictions of noble moral purpose, and high literary merit. out of seventy public libraries to which the list was sent, with inquiry whether the authors named were admitted as books of circulation, thirty libraries replied. all of them admitted bulwer-lytton and wilkie collins, all but two oliver optic's books, and all but six augusta evans wilson's. reynolds' novels were excluded by twenty libraries, mrs. southworth's by eleven, "ouida's" by nine, and mrs. stephens's and mrs. henry wood's by eight. other details cannot find space for notice here. this instance is one among many of endeavors constantly being made by associated librarians to stem the ever increasing flood of poor fiction which threatens to submerge the better class of books in our public libraries. that no such wholesome attempt can be wholly successful is evident enough. the passion for reading fiction is both epidemic and chronic; and in saying this, do not infer that i reckon it as a disease. a librarian has no right to banish fiction because the appetite for it is abused. he is not to set up any ideal and impossible standard of selection. his most useful and beneficent function is to turn into better channels the universal hunger for reading which is entertaining. do readers want an exciting novel? what can be more exciting than "les miserables" of victor hugo, a book of exceptional literary excellence and power? literature is full of fascinating stories, admirably told, and there is no excuse for loading our libraries with trash, going into the slums for models, or feeding young minds upon the unclean brood of pessimistic novels. if it is said that people will have trash, let them buy it, and let the libraries wash their hands of it, and refuse to circulate the stuff which no boy nor girl can touch without being contaminated. those who claim that we might as well let the libraries down to the level of the poorest books, because unformed and ignorant minds are capable of nothing better, should be told that people are never raised by giving them nothing to look up to. to devour infinite trash is not the road to learn wisdom, or virtue, or even to attain genuine amusement. to those who are afraid that if the libraries are purified, the masses will get nothing that they can read, the answer is, have they not got the entire world of magazines, the weekly, daily, and sunday newspapers, which supply a whole library of fiction almost daily? add to these plenty of imaginative literature in fiction and in poetry, on every library's shelves, which all who can read can comprehend, and what excuse remains for buying what is neither decent nor improving? take an example of the boundless capacity for improvement that exists in the human mind and human taste, from the spread of the fine arts among the people. thirty years ago, their houses, if having any decoration at all, exhibited those fearful and wonderful colored lithographs and chromos in which bad drawing, bad portraiture, and bad coloring vied with each other to produce pictures which it would be a mild use of terms to call detestable. then came the two great international art expositions at philadelphia and chicago, each greatly advancing by the finest models, the standard of taste in art, and by new economies of reproduction placing the most beautiful statues and pictures within the reach of the most moderate purse. what has been the result? an incalculable improvement in the public taste, educated by the diffusion of the best models, until even the poor farmer of the backwoods will no longer tolerate the cheap and nasty horrors that once disfigured his walls. the lesson in art is good in literature also. give the common people good models, and there is no danger but they will appreciate and understand them. never stoop to pander to a depraved taste, no matter what specious pleas you may hear for tolerating the low in order to lead to the high, or for making your library contribute to the survival of the unfittest. is it asked, how can the librarian find out, among the world of novels from which he is to select, what is pure and what is not, what is wholesome and what unhealthy, what is improving and what is trash? the answer is--there are some lists which will be most useful in this discrimination, while there is no list which is infallible. mr. f. leypoldt's little catalogue of "books for all time" has nothing that any library need do without. another compendious list is published by the american library association. and the more extensive catalogue prepared for the world's fair in , and embracing about , volumes, entitled "catalogue of a. l. a. library: , vols. for a popular library," while it has many mistakes and omissions, is a tolerably safe guide in making up a popular library. i may note that the list of novels in this large catalogue put forth by the american library association has the names of five only out of the twenty-eight writers of fiction heretofore pronounced objectionable, and names a select few only of the books of these five. as for the later issues of the press, and especially the new novels, let him skim them for himself, unless in cases where trustworthy critical judgments are found in journals. running through a book to test its style and moral drift is no difficult task for the practiced eye. let us suppose that you are cursorily perusing a novel which has made a great sensation, and you come upon the following sentence: "eighteen millions of years would level all in one huge, common, shapeless ruin. perish the microcosm in the limitless macrocosm! and sink this feeble earthly segregate in the boundless rushing choral aggregation!" this is in augusta j. evans wilson's story "macaria", and many equally extraordinary examples of "prose run mad" are found in the novels of this once noted writer. what kind of a model is that to form the style of the youthful neophyte, to whom one book is as good as another, since it was found on the shelves of the public library? i am not insisting that all books admitted should be models of style; even a purist must admit that one of the greatest charms of literature is its infinite variety. but when book after book is filled with such specimens of literary lunacy as this, one is tempted to believe that homer and shakespeare, to say nothing of thackeray and hawthorne, have lived in vain. never fear criticism of those who find fault with the absence from your library of books that you know to be nearly worthless; their absence will be a silent but eloquent protest against them, sure to be vindicated by the utter oblivion into which they will fall. many a flaming reputation has been extinguished after dazzling callow admirers for six months, or even less. do not dread the empty sarcasm, that may grow out of the exclusion of freshly printed trash, that your library is a "back number." to some poor souls every thing that is great and good in the world's literature is a "back number"; and the bible itself, with its immortal poetry and sublimity, is the oldest back number of all. it is no part of your business as a librarian to cater to the tastes of those who act as if the reading of endless novels of sensation were the chief end of man. as one fed on highly spiced viands and stimulating drinks surely loses the appetite for wholesome and nourishing food, so one who reads only exciting and highly wrought fictions loses the taste for the master-pieces of prose and poetry. let not the fear of making many mistakes be a bug-bear in your path. if you are told that your library is too exclusive, reply that it has not means enough to buy all the good books that are wanted, and cannot afford to spend money on bad or even on doubtful ones. if you have excluded any highly-sought-for book on insufficient evidence, never fail to revise the judgment. all that can be expected of any library is approximately just and wise selection, having regard to merit, interest, and moral tone, more than to novelty or popularity. in the matter of choice, individual opinions are of small value. never buy a book simply because some reader extols it as very fine, or "splendid," or "perfectly lovely." such praises are commonly to be distrusted in direct proportion to their extravagance. a good lesson to libraries is furnished in the experience of the cleveland (ohio) public library. in , out of , volumes in that library, no less than , were novels. the governing board, on the plea of giving people what they wanted, bought nearly all new books of fiction, and went so far, even, as to buy of pinkerton's detective stories, fifteen copies each, fifteen of all mrs. southworth's novels, etc. but a change took place in the board, and the librarian was permitted to stop the growing flood of worthless fiction, and as fast as the books were worn out, they were replaced by useful reading. it resulted that four years later, with , volumes in the library, only , were novels, or less than one-fifth, instead of more than one-third of the whole collection, as formerly. in the same time, the percentage of fiction drawn out was reduced from per cent. of the aggregate books read, to per cent. libraries are always complaining that they cannot buy many valuable books from lack of funds. yet some of them buy a great many that are valueless in spite of this lack. can any thing be conceived more valueless than a set of sylvanus cobb's novels, reprinted to the number of thirty-five to forty, from the new york ledger? yet these have been bought for scores of libraries, which could not afford the latest books in science and art, or biography, history, or travel. there are libraries in which the latest books on electricity, or sewerage, or sanitary plumbing, might have saved many lives, but which must go without them, because the money has been squandered on vapid and pernicious literature. in almost every library, while some branches of knowledge are fairly represented, others are not represented at all. nearly all present glaring deficiencies, and these are often caused by want of systematic plan in building up the collection. boards of managers are frequently changed, and the policy of the library with them. all the more important is it that the librarian should be so well equipped with a definite aim, and with knowledge and skill competent to urge that aim consistently, as to preserve some unity of plan. i need not add that a librarian should be always wide awake to the needs of his library in every direction. it should be taken for granted that its general aim is to include the best books in the whole range of human knowledge. with the vast area of book production before him, he should strengthen every year some department, taking them in order of importance. some scholarly writers tell us that very few books are essential to a good education. james russell lowell named five, which in his view embraced all the essentials; namely, homer, dante, shakespeare, cervantes, and goethe's faust. prof. charles e. norton of harvard remarked that this list might even be abridged so as to embrace only homer, dante and shakespeare. i can only regard such exclusiveness as misleading, though conceding the many-sidedness of these great writers. to extend the list is the function of all public libraries, as well as of most of the private ones. next after the really essential books, that library will be doing its public good service which acquires all the important works that record the history of man. this will include biography, travels and voyages, science, and much besides, as well as history. special pains should be taken in every library to have every thing produced in its own town, county, and state. not only books, but all pamphlets, periodicals, newspapers, and even broadsides or circulars, should be sought for and stored up as memorials of the present age, tending in large part rapidly to disappear. in selecting editions of standard authors, one should always discriminate, so as to secure for the library, if not the best, at least good, clear type, sound, thick paper, and durable binding. cheap and poor editions wear out quickly, and have to be thrown away for better ones, which wise economy should have selected in the first place. for example, a widely circulated edition of scott's novels, found in most libraries, has the type so worn and battered by the many large editions printed from the plates, that many letters and words are wanting, thus spoiling not only the pleasure but abridging the profit of the reader in perusing the novels. the same is true of one edition of cooper. then there are many cheap reprints of english novels in the seaside and other libraries which abound in typographical errors. a close examination of a cheap edition of a leading english novelist's works revealed more than , typographical errors in the one set of books! it would be unpardonable carelessness to buy such books for general reading because they are cheap. librarians should avoid what are known as subscription books, as a rule, though some valid exceptions exist. most of such books are profusely illustrated and in gaudy bindings, gotten up to dazzle the eye. if works of merit, it is better to wait for them, than to subscribe for an unfinished work, which perhaps may never reach completion. a librarian or book collector should be ever observant of what he may find to enrich his collection. when in a book-store, or a private or public library, he should make notes of such works seen as are new to him, with any characteristics which their custodian may remark upon. such personal examination is more informing than any catalogue. i think each public library should possess, besides a complete set of the english translations of the greek and latin classics, a full set of the originals, for the benefit of scholarly readers. these classic texts can be had complete in modern editions for a very moderate price. how far duplicate volumes should be bought should depend upon demand, and the views of the purchasing powers. there is a real need of more than one copy of almost every standard work, else it will be perpetually out, giving occasion for numerous complaints from those who use the library. it would be a good rule to keep one copy always in, and at the service of readers, of every leading history, standard poet, or popular novel. then the duplicate copies for circulation may be one or more, as experience and ability to provide may determine. a library which caters to the novel-reading habit as extensively as the new york mercantile (a subscription library) has to buy fifty to one hundred copies of "trilby," for example, to keep up with the demand. no such obligation exists for the free public libraries. they, however, often buy half a dozen to a dozen copies of a very popular story, when new, and sell them out after the demand has slackened or died away. the methods of selection and purchase in public libraries are very various. in the worcester (mass.) public library, the librarian makes a list of desiderata, has it manifolded, and sends a copy to each of the thirteen members of the board of directors. this list is reported on by the members at the next monthly meeting of the board, and generally, in the main, approved. novels and stories are not bought until time has shown of what value they may be. the aim is mainly educational at the worcester library, very special pains being taken to aid all the pupils and teachers in the public schools, by careful selection, and providing duplicate or more copies of important works. in the public library of cleveland, ohio, there is appointed out of the governing board a book-committee of three. to one of these are referred english books wanted, to another french, and to the third german books. this sub-committee approves or amends the librarian's recommendations, at its discretion; but expensive works are referred to the whole board for determination. in the new york mercantile library, which must keep continually up to date in its supply of new books, the announcements in all the morning papers are daily scanned, and books just out secured by immediate order. many publishers send in books on approval, which are frequently bought. an agent in london is required to send on the day of publication all new books on certain subjects. the library boards of management meet weekly in new york and philadelphia, but monthly in most country libraries. the selection of books made by committees introduces often an element of chance, not quite favorable to the unity of plan in developing the resources of the library. but with a librarian of large information, discretion, and skill, there need seldom be any difficulty in securing approval of his selections, or of most of them. in some libraries the librarian is authorized to buy at discretion additions of books in certain lines, to be reported at the next meeting of the board; and to fill up all deficiencies in periodicals that are taken. this is an important concession to his judgment, made in the interest of completeness in the library, saving a delay of days and sometimes weeks in waiting for the board of directors. all orders sent out for accessions should previously be compared with the alphabeted order-card list, as well as with the general catalogue of the library, to avoid duplication. after this the titles are to be incorporated in the alphabet of all outstanding orders, to be withdrawn only on receipt of the books. the library should invite suggestions from all frequenting it, of books recommended and not found in the collection. a blank record-book for this purpose, or an equivalent in order-cards, should be always kept on the counter of the library. chapter . book buying. the buying of books is to some men a pastime; to others it is a passion; but to the librarian and the intelligent book collector it is both a business and a pleasure. the man who is endowed with a zeal for knowledge is eager to be continually adding to the stores which will enable him to acquire and to dispense that knowledge. hence the perusal of catalogues is to him an ever fresh and fascinating pursuit. however hampered he may be by the lack of funds, the zest of being continually in quest of some coveted volumes gives him an interest in every sale catalogue, whether of bookseller or of auctioneer. he is led on by the perennial hope that he may find one or more of the long-wished for and waited-for _desiderata_ in the thin pamphlet whose solid columns bristle with book-titles in every variety of abbreviation and arrangement. it is a good plan, if one can possibly command the time, to read every catalogue of the book auctions, and of the second-hand book dealers, which comes to hand. you will thus find a world of books chronicled and offered which you do not want, because you have got them already: you will find many, also, which you want, but which you know you cannot have; and you may find some of the very volumes which you have sought through many years in vain. in any case, you will have acquired valuable information--whether you acquire any books or not; since there is hardly a priced catalogue, of any considerable extent, from which you cannot reap knowledge of some kind--knowledge of editions, knowledge of prices, and knowledge of the comparative scarcity or full supply of many books, with a glimpse of titles which you may never have met before. the value of the study of catalogues as an education in bibliography can never be over-estimated. the large number of active and discriminating book-buyers from america has for years past awakened the interest and jealousy of collectors abroad, where it has very largely enhanced the price of all first-class editions, and rare works. no longer, as in the early days of dibdin and heber, is the competition for the curiosities of old english literature confined to a half-score of native amateurs. true, we have no such omnivorous gatherers of literary rubbish as that magnificent _helluo librorum_, richard heber, who amassed what was claimed to be the largest collection of books ever formed by a single individual. endowed with a princely fortune, and an undying passion for the possession of books, he spent nearly a million dollars in their acquisition. his library, variously stated at from , volumes (by dr. dibdin) to , volumes (by dr. allibone) was brought to the hammer in . the catalogue filled octavo volumes, and the sale occupied days. the insatiable owner (who was a brother of reginald heber, bishop of calcutta) died while still collecting, at the age of sixty, leaving his enormous library, which no single house of ordinary size could hold, scattered in half a dozen mansions in london, oxford, paris, antwerp, brussels and ghent. yet the owner of this vast mass of mingled nonsense and erudition, this library of the curiosities of literature, was as generous in imparting as in acquiring his literary treasures. no english scholar but was freely welcome to the loan of his volumes; and his own taste and critical knowledge are said to have been of the first order. from this, probably the most extensive private library ever gathered, let us turn to the largest single purchase, in number of volumes, made at one time for a public library. when dr. j. g. cogswell went abroad in , to lay the foundations of the astor library, he took with him credentials for the expenditure of $ , ; and, what was of even greater importance, a thoroughly digested catalogue of _desiderata_, embracing the most important books in every department of literature and science. no such opportunity of buying the finest books at the lowest prices is likely ever to occur again, as the fortuitous concourse of events brought to dr. cogswell. it was the year of revolutions--the year when the thrones were tottering or falling all over europe, when the wealthy and privileged classes were trembling for their possessions, and anxious to turn them into ready money. in every time of panic, political or financial, the prices of books, as well as of all articles of luxury, are the first to fall. many of the choicest collections came to the hammer; multitudes were eager to sell--but there were few buyers except the book merchants, who were all ready to sell again. the result was that some , volumes were gathered for the astor library, embracing a very large share of the best editions and the most expensive works, with many books strictly denominated rare, and nearly all bound in superior style, at an average cost of about $ . per volume. this extraordinary good fortune enabled the astor library to be opened on a very small endowment, more splendidly equipped for a library of reference than any new institution could be today with four or five times the money. compared with such opportunities as these, you may consider the experiences of the little libraries, and the narrow means of recruitment generally found, as very literally the day of small things. but a wise apportionment of small funds, combined with a good knowledge of the commercial value of books, and perpetual vigilance in using opportunities, will go very far toward enlarging any collection in the most desirable directions. compare for a moment with the results stated of the astor library's early purchases, the average prices paid by british libraries for books purchased from to , as published in a parliamentary return. the average cost per volume varied from _s_ or about $ a volume, for the university library of edinburgh, to _s_ _d_, or $ . a volume for the manchester free library. the latter, however, were chiefly popular new books, published at low prices, while the former included many costly old works, law books, etc. the british museum library's average was _s_ _d_ or about $ . per volume. those figures represent cloth binding, while the astor's purchases were mostly in permanent leather bindings. averages are very uncertain standards of comparison, as a single book rarity often costs more than a hundred volumes of the new books of the day; but in a library filled with the best editions of classical and scientific works, and reference books, i presume that two dollars a volume is not too high an estimate of average cost, in these days represented by the last twenty years. for a circulating library, on the other hand, composed chiefly of what the public most seek to read, half that average would perhaps express the full commercial value of the collection. of its intrinsic value i will not here pause to speak. there are many methods of book buying, of which we may indicate the principal as follows: . by direct orders from book dealers. . by competition on select lists of wants. . by order from priced catalogues. . by purchase at auction sales. . by personal research among book stocks. . by lists and samples of books sent on approval. each of these methods has its advantages--and, i may add, its disadvantages likewise. the collector who combines them, as opportunity presents, is most likely to make his funds go the farthest, and to enrich his collection the most. direct orders for purchase are necessary for most new books wanted, except in the case of the one government library, which in most countries, receives them under copyright provision. an advantageous arrangement can usually be made with one or more book-dealers, to supply all new books at a fairly liberal discount from retail prices. and it is wise management to distribute purchases where good terms are made, as thereby the trade will feel an interest in the library, and a mutuality of interest will secure more opportunities and better bargains. the submission of lists of books wanted, to houses having large stocks or good facilities, helps to make funds go as far as possible through competition. by the typewriter such lists can now be manifolded much more cheaply than they can be written or printed. selection from priced catalogues presents a constantly recurring opportunity of buying volumes of the greatest consequence, to fill gaps in any collection, and often at surprisingly low prices. much as book values have been enhanced of late years, there are yet catalogues issued by american, english and continental dealers which quote books both of the standard and secondary class at very cheap rates. even now english books are sold by the mudie and the w. h. smith lending libraries in london, after a very few months, at one-half to one-fourth their original publishing price. these must usually be rebound, but by instructing your agent to select copies which are clean within, all the soil of the edges will disappear with the light trimming of the binder. purchase at auction supplies a means of recruiting libraries both public and private with many rare works, and with the best editions of the standard authors, often finely bound. the choice private libraries of the country, as well as the poor ones, tend to pour themselves sooner or later into public auctions. the collectors of books, whose early avidity to amass libraries of fine editions was phenomenal, rarely persist in cultivating the passion through life. sometimes they are overtaken by misfortune--sometimes by indifference--the bibliomania not being a perennial inspiration, but often an acute and fiery attack, which in a few years burns out. even if the library gathered with so much money and pains descends to the heirs of the collector, the passion for books is very seldom an inherited one. thus the public libraries are constantly recruited by the opportunities of selection furnished by the forced sale of the private ones. here, public competition frequently runs up the price of certain books to an exorbitant degree, while those not wanted often sell for the merest trifle. one should have a pretty clear idea of the approximate commercial value of books, before competing for them at public sale. he may, however, if well persuaded in his own mind as to the importance or the relative unimportance to his own collection of any work, regulate his bids by that standard, regardless of commercial value, except as a limit beyond which he will not go. few librarians can personally attend auction sales--nor is it needful, when limits can so easily be set to orders. it is never safe to send an unlimited bid, as there may be others without limit, in which case the book is commonly awarded to the most remote bidder. there are many curiosities of the auction room, one of them being the frequent re-appearance of book rarities which have been through several auctions, sometimes at intervals of years, keenly competed for by rival bibliophiles, and carried off in triumph by some ardent collector, who little thought at the time how soon his own collection would come to the hammer. there are also many curiosities of compilation in auction catalogues. not to name errors of commission, like giving the authorship of books to the wrong name, and errors of omission, like giving no author's name at all, some catalogues are thickly strewn with the epithets _rare_--and _very rare_, when the books are sufficiently common in one or the other market. do not be misled by these surface indications. books are often attributed in catalogues to their editor or translator, and the unwary buyer may thus find himself saddled with a duplicate already in his own collection. there has been much improvement in late years in the care with which auction catalogues are edited, and no important collection at least is offered, without having first passed through the hands of an expert, familiar with bibliography. it is the minor book sales where the catalogues receive no careful editing, and where the dates and editions are frequently omitted, that it is necessary to guard against. it is well to refrain from sending any bids out of such lists, because they furnish no certain identification of the books, and if all would do the same, thus diminishing the competition and the profit of the auctioneer, he might learn never to print a catalogue without date, place of publication, and full name of author of every book offered. never be too eager to acquire an auction book, unless you are very thoroughly assured that it is one of the kind truly designated _rarissimus_. an eminent and thoroughly informed book collector, with an experience of forty years devoted to book auctions and book catalogues, assured me that it was his experience that almost every book would turn up on the average about every seven years. of course there are notable exceptions--and especially among the class of books known as _incunabula_, (or cradle-books printed in the infancy of printing) and of early americana: but it is not these which the majority of libraries are most in search of. remember always, if you lose a coveted volume, that there will be another chance--perhaps many of them. the private collector, who carries it off against you, has had no former opportunity to get the rare volume, and may never have another. he is therefore justified in paying what is to ordinary judgment an extraordinary price. individual collectors die, but public libraries are immortal. if you become thoroughly conversant with priced catalogues, you will make fewer mistakes than most private buyers. not only catalogues of notable collections, with the prices obtained at auction, but the large and very copious catalogues of such london book-dealers as quaritch and sotheran, are accessible in the great city libraries. these are of the highest use in suggesting the proximate prices at which important books have been or may be acquired. since , annual volumes entitled "american book prices current" have been issued, giving the figures at which books have been sold at all the principal auction sales of the year. there is no word so much abused as the term _rare_, when applied to books. librarians know well the unsophisticated citizen who wants to sell at a high price a "rare" volume of divinity "a hundred and fifty years old" (worth possibly twenty-five cents to half a dollar,) and the persistent woman who has the rarest old bible in the country, which she values anywhere from fifty to five hundred dollars, and which turns out on inspection to be an imperfect copy of one of barker's multitudinous editions of to ' , which may be picked up at five to eight shillings in any old london book-shop. the confident assertions so often paraded, even in catalogues, "only three copies known," and the like, are to be received with absolute incredulity, and the claims of ignorant owners of books who fancy that their little pet goose is a fine swan, because they never saw another, are as ridiculous as the laudation bestowed by a sapient collector upon two of his most valued nuggets. "this, sir, is unique, but not so unique as the other." buying books by actual inspection at the book-shops is even more fascinating employment than buying them through catalogues. you thus come upon the most unexpected volumes unawares. you open the covers, scan the title-pages, get a glimpse of the plates, and flit from book to book, like a bee gathering honey for its hive. it is a good way to recruit your library economically, to run through the stock of a book-dealer systematically--neglecting no shelf, but selecting throughout the whole stock, and laying aside what you think you may want. when this is done, you will have quite a pile of literature upon which to negotiate with the proprietor. it is cheaper to buy thus at wholesale than by piecemeal, because the bookseller will make you a larger discount on a round lot of which you relieve his shelves. another method of recruiting your library is the examination of books "on approval." most book-dealers will be so obliging as to send in parcels of books for the inspection of a librarian or collector, who can thus examine them leisurely and with more thoroughness than in a book store, without leaving his business. all books, by whatever course they may be purchased, are indispensably to be collated before they are accepted and paid for. neglect of this will fill any library with imperfections, since second-hand books are liable to have missing leaves, or plates, or maps, while new books may lack signatures or plates, or be wrongly bound together. in the case of new books, or books still in print, the publisher is bound to make good an imperfection. in old books, this is usually impossible, and the only remedy is to return the imperfect books upon the seller's hands, unless there may be a reason, such as the rarity of the volume, or its comparative little cost, or the trifling nature of the imperfection, for retaining it. the equities in these cases are in favor of the buyer, who is presumed to have purchased a perfect copy. but the right of reclamation must be exercised promptly, or it may be forfeited by lapse of time. if an imperfection in any book you order is noted in the catalogue, it is not subject to return. i have ever found the book auctioneers most courteous and considerate in their dealings--and the same can be said of the book trade generally, among whom instances of liberality to libraries are by no means rare. one of the choicest pleasures of the book collector, whether private student or librarian, is to visit the second-hand book-shops of any city, and examine the stock with care. while he may find but few notable treasures in one collection, a search through several shops will be almost sure to reward him. here are found many of the outpourings of the private libraries, formed by specialists or amateurs, and either purchased by the second-hand dealer _en bloc_, or bid off by him at some auction sale. even rare books are picked up in this way, no copies of which can be had by order, because long since "out of print." the stock in these shops is constantly changing, thus adding a piquant and sometimes exciting element to the book-hunter, who is wise in proportion as he seizes quickly upon all opportunities of new "finds" by frequent visits. to mourn over a lost chance in rare books is often more grievous to the zealous collector, than to lose a large share out of his fortune; while to exult over a literary nugget long sought and at length found is a pleasure to which few others can be compared. of the many _bouquinistes_ whose open-air shops line the quays of paris along the seine, numbering once as many as a hundred and fifty dealers in second-hand books, i have no room to treat; books have been written about them, and the _littérateurs_ of france, of europe, and of america have profited by countless bargains in their learned wares. nor can i dwell upon the literary wealth of london book-shops, dark and dingy, but ever attractive to the hungry scholar, or the devotee of bibliomania. of the many second-hand booksellers (or rather sellers of second-hand books) in american cities, the more notable have passed from the stage of action in the last quarter of a century. old william gowans, a quaint, intelligent scotchman, in shabby clothes and a strong face deeply marked with small pox, was for many years the dean of this fraternity in new york. his extensive book-shop in nassau street, with its dark cellar, was crowded and packed with books on shelves, on stairways and on the floors, heaped and piled in enormous masses, amid which the visitor could hardly find room to move. on one of the piles you might find the proprietor seated-- books to the right of him, books to the left of him, books behind him, volleyed and tumbled, while he answered inquiries for books from clergymen and students, or gruffly bargained with a boy or an old woman for a dilapidated lot of old books. he had a curious quizzical way with strangers, who at once set him down as an oddity, and his impatience with ignoramuses and bores gave him the repute of crustiness, which was redeemed by suavity enough whenever he met with people of intelligence. gowans issued scores of catalogues of his stock, in which titles were often illustrated by notes, always curious and often amusing, credited to "western memorabilia," a work which no bookseller or man of letters had ever heard of, but which was shrewdly suspected to have been a projected scrap-book of the observations and opinions of william gowans. there was another eccentric book-dealer's shop in nassau street kept by one john doyle, who aimed so high in his profession as to post over his door a sign reading "the moral centre of the intellectual universe." this establishment was notably full of old editions of books of english history and controversial theology. the most famous second-hand book-shop in boston was burnham's, whose fore-name was thomas oliver hazard perry, shortened into "perry burnham" by his familiars. he was a little, pale-faced, wiry, nervous man, with piercing black eyes and very brusque manners. in old and musty books he lived and moved and had his being, for more than a generation. he exchanged a stuffy, narrow shop in cornhill for more spacious quarters in washington street, near school street, where he bought and sold books with an assiduous devotion to business, never trusting to others what he could do himself. he was proud of his collection and its extent. he bought books and pamphlets at auction literally by the cart-load, every thing that nobody else wanted being bid off to burnham at an insignificant price, almost nominal. he got a wide reputation for selling cheaply, but he always knew when to charge a stiff price for a book, and to stick to it. once when i was pricing a lot of miscellaneous books picked out for purchase, mostly under a dollar a volume, we came to a copy of "the constitutions of the several independent states of america," st edition, philadelphia, , of which two hundred copies only were printed, by order of congress. this copy was in the original boards, uncut, and with the autograph of timothy pickering on the title page. "if the congress library wants that book," said mr. burnham, "it will have to pay eight dollars for it." i took it, well pleased to secure what years of search had failed to bring. the next year my satisfaction was enhanced when an inferior copy of the same book was offered at twenty dollars. burnham died a wealthy man, having amassed a million dollars in trade and by rise in real estate, as he owned the land on which the parker house stands in boston. among philadelphia dealers in second-hand books, one john penington was recognized as most intelligent and honorable. he was a book-lover and a scholar, and one instinctively ranked him not as a bookseller, but as a gentleman who dealt in books. on his shelves one always found books of science and volumes in foreign languages. another notable dealer was john campbell, a jolly, hearty irish-american, with a taste for good books, and an antipathy to negroes, as keen as the proverbial hatred of the devil for holy water. campbell wrote a book entitled "negromania," published in , in which his creed was set forth in strong language. he was a regular bidder at book auctions, where his burly form and loud voice made him a prominent figure. of notable auction sales of books, and of the extravagant prices obtained for certain editions by ambitious and eager competition, there is little room to treat. the oft-told story of the valdarfer boccaccio of , carried off at the roxburghe sale in , at £ , from earl spencer by the marquis of blandford, and re-purchased seven years after at another auction for £ , has been far surpassed in modern bibliomania. "the sound of that hammer," wrote the melodramatic dibdin, "echoed through europe:" but what would he have said of the mazarin bible of gutenberg and fust ( - ) sold in , at the ashburnham sale, for four thousand pounds, or of the latin psalter of fust and schoeffer, d ed. , which brought £ , at the syston park sale in ? this last sum (about twenty-four thousand dollars) is the largest price ever yet recorded as received for a single volume. among books of less rarity, though always eagerly sought, is the first folio shakespeare of , a very fine and perfect copy of which brought £ . at daniel's sale in . copies warranted perfect have since been sold in london for £ to £ . in new york, a perfect but not "tall" copy brought $ , in at auction. walton's "compleat angler," london, st ed. , a little book of only pages, sold for £ in . it was published for one shilling and sixpence. the first edition of robinson crusoe brought £ at the crampton sale in . the rage for first editions of very modern books reached what might be called high-water mark some time since, and has been on the decline. shelley's "queen mab," st ed. , was sold at london for £ . , and his "refutation of deism," , was sold at £ , at a london sale in . in new york, many first editions of shelley's poems brought the following enormous prices in . shelley's adonais, st ed. pisa, italy, , $ . alastor, london, , $ . the cenci, italy, , $ . hellas, london, , $ . but these were purely adventitious prices, as was clearly shown in the sale at the same auction rooms, a year or two earlier, of the following: shelley's adonais, st ed. pisa, , $ . alastor, london, , $ . the cenci, italy, , $ . hellas, london, , $ . the sales occasionally made at auction of certain books at extraordinary prices, prove nothing whatever as to the real market value, for these reasons: ( ) the auctioneer often has an unlimited bid, and the price is carried up to an inordinate height. ( ) two or more bidders present, infatuated by the idea of extreme rarity, bid against one another until all but one succumb, when the price has reached a figure which it is a mild use of terms to call absurd. ( ) descriptions in sale catalogues, though often entirely unfounded, characterising a book as "excessively rare;" "only -- copies known," "very scarce," "never before offered at our sales," etc., may carry the bidding on a book up to an unheard-of price. the appeal always lies to the years against the hours; and many a poor book-mad enthusiast has had to rue his too easy credulity in giving an extravagant sum for books which he discovers later that he could have bought for as many shillings as he has paid dollars. not that the _rarissimi_ of early printed books can ever be purchased for a trifle; but it should ever be remembered that even at the sales where a few--a very few--bring the enormous prices that are bruited abroad, the mass of the books offered are knocked down at very moderate figures, or are even sacrificed at rates very far below their cost. the possessor of one of the books so advertised as sold at some auction for a hundred dollars or upwards, if he expects to realise a tithe of the figure quoted, will speedily find himself in the vocative. while there are almost priceless rarities not to be found in the market by any buyer, let the book collector be consoled by the knowledge that good books, in good editions, were never so easy to come by as now. a fine library can be gathered by any one with very moderate means, supplemented by a fair amount of sagacity and common sense. the buyer with a carefully digested list of books wanted will find that to buy them wisely takes more time and less money than he had anticipated. the time is required to acquaint himself with the many competing editions, with their respective merits and demerits. this involves a comparison of type, paper, and binding, as well as the comparative prices of various dealers for the same books. no one who is himself gifted with good perceptions and good taste, should trust to other hands the selection of his library. his enjoyment of it will be proportioned to the extent to which it is his own creation. the passion for nobly written books, handsomely printed, and clothed in a fitting garb, when it has once dawned, is not to be defrauded of its satisfaction by hiring a commission merchant to appease it. what we do for ourselves, in the acquirement of any knowledge, is apt to be well done: what is done for us by others is of little value. we have heard of some uninformed _parvenus_, grown suddenly rich, who have first ordered a magnificent library room fitted with rose-wood, marble and gilded trappings, and then ordered it to be filled with splendidly bound volumes at so much per volume. and it is an authentic fact, that a bookseller to the czar of russia one klostermann, actually sold books at fifty to one hundred roubles by the yard, according to the binding. the force of folly could no farther go, to debase the aims and degrade the intellect of man. in the chapter upon rare books, the reader will find instances in great variety of the causes that contribute to the scarcity and enhancement of prices of certain books, without at all affecting their intrinsic value, which may be of the smallest. chapter . the art of book binding. in these suggestions upon the important question of the binding of books, i shall have nothing to say of the history of the art, and very little of its aesthetics. the plainest and most practical hints will be aimed at, and if my experience shall prove of value to any, i shall be well rewarded for giving it here. for other matters readers will naturally consult some of the numerous manuals of book-binding in english, french and german. the sumptuous bindings executed in the sixteenth century, under the patronage and the eyes of grolier, the famous tooled masterpieces of derome, le gascon, padeloup, trautz and other french artists, and the beautiful gems of the binder's art from the hands of roger payne, lewis, mackenzie, hayday and bedford, are they not celebrated in the pages of dibdin, lacroix, fournier, wheatley, and robert hoe? there are some professed lovers of books who affect either indifference or contempt for the style in which their favorites are dressed. a well known epigram of burns is sometimes quoted against the fondness for fine bindings which widely prevails in the present day, as it did in that of the scottish poet. a certain scottish nobleman, endowed with more wealth than brains, was vain of his splendidly bound shakespeare, which, however, he never read. burns, on opening the folio, found the leaves sadly worm-eaten, and wrote these lines on the fly-leaf: "through and through th' inspired leaves, ye maggots make your windings; but o respect his lordship's taste, and spare the golden bindings!" yet no real book-lover fails to appreciate the neatness and beauty of a tasteful binding, any more than he is indifferent to the same qualities in literary style. slovenly binding is almost as offensive to a cultivated eye as slovenly composition. no doubt both are "mere externals," as we are told, and so are the splendors of scenery, the beauty of flowers, and the comeliness of the human form, or features, or costume. talk as men will of the insignificance of dress, it constitutes a large share of the attractiveness of the world in which we live. the two prime requisites of good binding for libraries are neatness and solidity. it is pleasant to note the steady improvement in american bindings of late years. as the old style of "half cloth boards," of half a century ago, with paper titles pasted on the backs, has given way to the neat, embossed, full muslin gilt, so the clumsy and homely sheep-skin binding has been supplanted by the half-roan or morocco, with marble or muslin sides. few books are issued, however, either here or abroad, in what may be called permanent bindings. the cheapness demanded by buyers of popular books forbids this, while it leaves to the taste and fancy of every one the selection of the "library style" in which he will have his collection permanently dressed. what is the best style of binding for a select or a public library? is a question often discussed, with wide discrepancies of opinion. the so universally prevalent cloth binding is too flimsy for books subjected to much use--as most volumes in public collections and many in private libraries are likely to be. the choice of the more substantial bindings lies between calf and morocco, and between half or full bindings of either. for nearly all books, half binding, if well executed, and with cloth sides, is quite as elegant, and very nearly as solid and lasting as full leather; for if a book is so worn as to need rebinding, it is generally in a part where the full binding wears out quite as fast as the other. that is, it gets worn at the hinges and on the back, whether full or half-bound. the exceptions are the heavy dictionaries, encyclopaedias, and other works of reference, which are subjected to much wear and tear at the sides, as well as at the back and corners. full leather is much more expensive than half binding, though not doubly so. every librarian or book collector should understand something of book-binding and its terms, so that he may be able to give clear directions as to every item involved in binding, repairing, or re-lettering, and to detect imperfect or slighted work. the qualities that we always expect to find in a well-bound book are solidity, flexibility, and elegance. special examination should be directed toward each of these points in revising any lot of books returned from a binder. look at each book with regard to:-- . flexibility in opening. . evenness of the cover, which should lie flat and smooth--each edge being just parallel with the others throughout. . compactness--see that the volumes are thoroughly pressed--solid, and not loose or spongy. . correct and even lettering of titles, and other tooling. . good wide margins. a well-bound book always opens out flat, and stays open. it also shuts up completely, and when closed stays shut. but how many books do we see always bulging open at the sides, or stiffly resisting being opened by too great tightness in the back? if the books you have had bound do not meet all these requirements, it is time to look for another binder. the different styles of dressing books may all be summed up in the following materials: boards, cloth, vellum, sheep, bock, pig-skin, calf, russia, and morocco--to which may be added of recent years, buckram, duck, linoleum, and the imitations of leather, such as leatherette and morocco paper, and of parchment. i take no account here of obsolete styles--as ivory, wood, brass, silver and other metals, nor of velvet, satin, and other occasional luxuries of the binder's art. these belong to the domain of the amateur, the antiquary, or the book-fancier--not to that of the librarian or the ordinary book-collector. roan leather is nothing but sheep-skin, stained or colored; basil or basan is sheepskin tanned in bark, while roan is tanned in sumac, and most of the so called moroccos are also sheep, ingeniously grained by a mechanical process. as all the manufactures in the world are full of "shoddy," or sham materials, the bookbinder's art affords no exception. but if the librarian or collector patronises shams, he should at least do it with his eyes open, and with due counting of the cost. now as to the relative merits and demerits of materials for binding. no one will choose boards covered with paper for any book which is to be subjected to perusal, and cloth is too flimsy and shaky in its attachment to the book, however cheap, for any library volumes which are to be constantly in use. it is true that since the bulk of the new books coming into any library are bound in cloth, they may be safely left in it until well worn; and by this rule, all the books which nobody ever reads may be expected to last many years, if not for generations. cloth is a very durable material, and will outlast some of the leathers, but any wetting destroys its beauty, and all colors but the darkest soon become soiled and repulsive, if in constant use. in most libraries, i hold that every cloth-bound book which is read, must sooner or later come to have a stout leather jacket. it may go for years, especially if the book is well sewed, but to rebinding it must come at last; and the larger the volume, the sooner it becomes shaky, or broken at some weak spot. the many beautiful new forms of cloth binding should have a word of praise, but the many more which we see of gaudy, fantastic, and meretricious bindings, and frightful combinations of colors must be viewed with a shudder. vellum, formerly much used for book-bindings, is the modern name for parchment. parchment was the only known writing material up to the th century, when paper was first invented. there are two kinds--animal and vegetable. the vegetable is made from cotton fibre or paper, by dipping it in a solution of sulphuric acid and [sometimes] gelatine, then removing the acid by a weak solution of ammonia, and smooth finishing by rolling the sheets over a heated cylinder. vegetable parchment is used to bind many booklets which it is desired to dress in an elegant or dainty style, but is highly unsuitable for library books. vellum proper is a much thicker material, made from the skins of calves, sheep, or lambs, soaked in lime-water, and smoothed and hardened by burnishing with a hard instrument, or pumice-stone. the common vellum is made from sheep-skin splits, or skivers, but the best from whole calf-skins. the hard, strong texture of vellum is in its favor, but its white color and tendency to warp are fatal objections to it as a binding material. vellum is wholly unfit for the shelves of a library; the elegant white binding soils with dust, or the use of the hands, more quickly than any other; and the vellum warps in a dry climate, or curls up in a heated room, so as to be unmanageable upon the shelves, and a nuisance in the eyes of librarian and reader alike. the thin vegetable parchment lately in vogue for some books and booklets is too unsubstantial for anything but a lady's boudoir, where it may have its little day--"a thing of beauty," but by no means "a joy forever." sheepskin--once the full binding for most school-books, and for a large share of law and miscellaneous works for libraries, is now but little used, except in its disguised forms. it is too soft a leather for hard wear and tear, and what with abrasion and breaking at the hinges (termed by binders the joints), it will give little satisfaction in the long run. under the effect of gas and heated atmospheres sheep crumbles and turns to powder. its cheapness is about its only merit, and even this is doubtful economy, since no binding can be called cheap that has to be rebound or repaired every few years. in the form of half-roan or bock, colored sheep presents a handsome appearance on the shelf, and in volumes or sets which are reasonably secure from frequent handling, one is sometimes justified in adopting it, as it is far less expensive than morocco. pig-skin has been recently revived as a binding material, but though extremely hard and durable, it is found to warp badly on the shelves. calf bindings have always been great favorites with book-lovers, and there are few things more beautiful--_prima facie_, than a volume daintily bound in light french calf, as smooth as glass, as fine as silk, with elegant gold tooling without and within, gilt edges, and fly-leaves of finest satin. i said beautiful, _prima facie_--and this calls to mind the definition of that law term by a learned vermont jurist, who said: "gentlemen of the jury, i must explain to you that a _prima facie_ case is a case that is very good in front, but may be very bad in the rear." so of our so much lauded and really lovely calf bindings: they develop qualities in use which give us pause. calf is the most brittle of the leathers--hence it is always breaking at the hinges; it is a very smooth leather--hence it shows every scratch instantly; it is a light and delicate leather--hence it shows soils and stains more quickly than any other. out of every hundred calf-bound volumes in any well-used library, there will not remain ten which have not had to be re-bound or repaired at the end of twenty or thirty years. heavy volumes bound in calf or half-calf leather will break by their own weight on the shelves, without any use at all; and smaller volumes are sure to have their brittle joints snapped asunder by handling sooner or later--it is only a question of time. next comes russia leather, which is very thick and strong, being made of the hides of cattle, colored, and perfumed by the oil of birch, and made chiefly in russia. the objections to this leather are its great cost, its stiffness and want of elasticity, and its tendency to desiccate and lose all its tenacity in the dry or heated atmosphere of our libraries. it will break at the hinges--though not so readily as calf. lastly, we have the morocco leather, so called because it was brought from morocco, in africa, and still we get the best from thence, and from the mediterranean ports of the levant--whence comes another name for the best of this favorite leather, "levant morocco," which is the skin of the mountain goat, and reckoned superior to all other leathers. the characteristics of the genuine morocco, sometimes called turkey morocco, having a pebbled grain, distinguishing it from the smooth morocco, are its toughness and durability, combined with softness and flexibility. it has a very tenacious fibre, and i have never found a real morocco binding broken at the hinges. the old proverb--"there is nothing like leather"--is pregnant with meaning, and especially applies to the best morocco. as no material yet discovered in so many ages can take the place of leather for foot-wear and for harness, such is its tenacity and elasticity--so for book coverings, to withstand wear and tear, good leather is indispensable. there are thoroughly-bound books existing which are five centuries old--representing about the time when leather began to replace wood and metals for binding. the three great enemies of books are too great heat, too much moisture, and coal gas, which produces a sulphurous acid very destructive to bindings, and should never be used in libraries. from the dangers which destroy calf and russia leather, morocco is measurably free. as to color, i usually choose red for books which come to binding or rebinding, for these reasons. the bulk of every library is of dark and sombre color, being composed of the old-fashioned calf bindings, which grow darker with age, mingled with the cloth bindings of our own day, in which dark colors predominate. now the intermixture of red morocco, in all or most of the newly bound books, relieves the monotony of so much blackness, lights up the shelves, and gives a more cheerful aspect to the whole library. some there are who insist upon varying the colors of bindings with the subjects of the books--and the british museum library actually once bound all works on botany in green, poetry in yellow, history in red, and theology in blue; but this is more fanciful than important. a second reason for preferring red in moroccos is that, being dyed with cochineal, it holds its color more permanently than any other--the moroccos not colored red turning to a dingy, disagreeable brown after forty or fifty years, while the red are found to be fast colors. this was first discovered in the national library of france, and ever since most books in that great collection have been bound in red. a celebrated binder having recommended this color to a connoisseur who was having fine morocco binding done, instanced the example of the paris library, whose books, said he, are "mostly red," to which the amateur replied that he hoped they were. add to the merits of morocco leather the fact that it is not easily scratched nor stained, that it is very tough in wear, and resists better than any other the moisture and soiling of the hands--and we have a material worthy of all acceptance. in half-binding chosen for the great majority of books because it is much cheaper than full leather, the sides are covered with muslin or with some kind of colored paper--usually marble. the four corners of every book, however, should always be protected by leather or, better still, by vellum, which is a firmer material--otherwise they will rapidly wear off, and the boards will break easily at their corners. as to the relative merits of cloth and paper for the sides of books, cloth is far more durable, though it costs more. paper becomes quickly frayed at the edges, or is liable to peel where pasted on, though it may be renewed at small expense, and may properly be used except upon the much-read portion of the library. the cloth or paper should always harmonize in color with the leather to which it is attached. they need not be the same, but they should be of similar shade. one more reason for preferring morocco to other leathers is that you can always dispense with lettering-pieces or patches in gilding the titles on the back. all light-colored bindings (including law calf) are open to the objection that gold lettering is hardly legible upon them. hence the necessity of stamping the titles upon darker pieces of leather, which are fastened to the backs. these lettering-pieces become loose in over-heated libraries, and tend continually to peel off, entailing the expense of repairing or re-lettering. every morocco bound book can be lettered directly upon the leather. bock is made of the skin of the persian sheep, and is called persian in london. it is a partially unsuccessful imitation of morocco, becoming easily abraded, like all the sheep-skin leathers, and although it is to be had in all colors, and looks fairly handsome for a time, and is tougher than skiver (or split sheep-skin), the books that are bound in it will sooner or later become an eyesore upon the shelves. a skin of persian leather costs about one-third the price of genuine morocco, or goat. but the actual saving in binding is in a far less ratio--the difference being only six to eight cents per volume. it is really much cheaper to use morocco in the first place, than to undergo all the risks of deterioration and re-binding. of the various imitations of leather, or substitutes for it, we have leatherette, leather-cloth, duck, fibrette, feltine, and buckram. buckram and duck are strong cotton or linen fabricks, made of different colors, and sometimes figured or embossed to give them somewhat the look of leather. hitherto, they are made mostly in england, and i have learned of no american experience in their favor except the use of stout duck for covering blank books and binding newspapers. the use of buckram has been mostly abandoned by the libraries. morocco cloth is american, but has no advantage over plain muslin or book cloth, that i am aware of. leatherette, made principally of paper, colored and embossed to simulate morocco leather, appears to have dropped out of use almost as fast as it came in, having no quality of permanence, elegance, or even of great cheapness to commend it. leatherette tears easily, and lacks both tenacity and smoothness. both feltine and fibrette are made of paper--tear quickly, and are unfit for use on any book that is ever likely to be read. all these imitations of leather are made of paper as their basis, and hence can never be proper substitutes for leather. all torn leaves or plates in books should be at once mended by pasting a very thin onion-skin paper on both sides of the torn leaf, and pressing gently between leaves of sized paper until dry. corners made of vellum or parchment are more durable than any leather. when dry, the parchment becomes as hard almost as iron and resists falls or abrasion. to use it on books where the backs are of leather is a departure from the uniformity or harmony of style insisted upon by many, but in binding books that are to be greatly worn, use should come before beauty. in rebinding, all maps or folded plates should be mounted on thin canvas, linen, or muslin, strong and fine, to protect them from inevitable tearing by long use. if a coarse or thick cloth is used, the maps will not fold or open easily and smoothly. the cutting or trimming of the edges of books needs to be watched with jealous care. few have reflected that the more margin a binder cuts off, the greater his profit on any job, white paper shavings having a very appreciable price by the pound. a strictly uncut book is in many american libraries a rarity. and of the books which go a second time to the binder, although at first uncut, how many retain their fair proportions of margin when they come back? you have all seen books in which the text has been cut into by the ruthless knife-machine of the binder. this is called "bleeding" a book, and there are no words strong enough to denounce this murderous and cold-blooded atrocity. the trimming of all books should be held within the narrowest limits--for the life of a book depends largely upon its preserving a good margin. its only chance of being able to stand a second rebinding may depend upon its being very little trimmed at its first. if it must be cut at all, charge your binder to take off the merest shaving from either edge. every new book or magazine added to the library, if uncut, should be carefully cut with a paper-knife before it goes into the hands of any reader. spoiled or torn or ragged edges will be the penalty of neglecting this. you have seen people tear open the leaves of books and magazines with their fingers--a barbarism which renders him who would be guilty of it worthy of banishment from the resorts of civilization. in cutting books, the leaves should always be held firmly down--and the knife pressed evenly through the uncut leaves to the farthest verge of the back. books which are cut in the loose fashion which many use are left with rough or ragged edges always, and often a slice is gouged out of the margin by the mis-directed knife. never trust a book to a novice to be cut, without showing him how to do it, and how not to do it. the collation of new books in cloth or _broché_ should be done before cutting, provided they are issued to readers untrimmed. in collating books in two or more volumes double watchfulness is needed to guard against a missing signature, which may have its place filled by the same pages belonging to another volume--a mixture sometimes made in binderies, in "gathering" the sheets, and which makes it necessary to see that the signatures are right as well as the pages. the collator should check off all plates and maps called for by the table of contents to make sure that the copy is perfect. books without pagination are of course to have their leaves counted, which is done first in detail, one by one, and then verified by a rapid counting in sections, in the manner used by printers and binders in counting paper by the quire. the binding of books may be divided into two styles or methods, namely, machine-made book-bindings, and hand-made bindings. binding by machinery is wholly a modern art, and is applied to all or nearly all new books coming from the press. as these are, in more than nine cases out of ten, bound in cloth covers, and these covers, or cases, are cut out and stamped by machinery, such books are called "case-made." the distinction between this method of binding and the hand method is that in the former the case is made separately from the book, which is then put into it. after the sheets of any book come pressed and dried from the printing office, the first step is to fold them from the large flat sheets into book form. this is sometimes done by hand-folders of bone or some other hard material, but in large establishments for making books, it is done by a folding machine. this will fold ten thousand or more sheets in a day. the folded sheets are next placed in piles or rows, in their numerical sequence, and "gathered" by hand, _i. e._: a bindery hand picks up the sheets one by one, with great rapidity, until one whole book is gathered and collated, and the process is repeated so long as any sheets remain. next, the books are thoroughly pressed or "smashed" as it is called, in a powerful smashing-machine, giving solidity to the book, which before pressing was loose and spongy. then the books are sawed or grooved in the back by another machine, operating a swiftly moving saw, and sewed on cords by still another machine, at about half the cost of hand-sewing. next, they are cut or trimmed on the three edges in a cutting-machine. the backs of the books are made round by a rounding-machine, leaving the back convex and the front concave in form, as seen in all finished books. the books are now ready for the covers. these consist of binders' board or mill-board, cut out of large sheets into proper size, with lightning-like rapidity, by another machine called a rotary board-cutter. the cloth which is to form the back and sides of the book is cut out, of proper size for the boards, from great rolls of stamped or ribbed or embossed muslin, by another machine. the use of cloth, now so universal for book-binding, dates back little more than half a century. about , mr. leighton, of london, introduced it as a substitute for the drab-colored paper then used on the sides, and for the printed titles on the backs. the boards are firmly glued to the cloth, the edges of which are turned over the boards, and fastened on the inside of the covers. the ornamental stamps or figures seen on the covers, both at the back and sides are stamped in with a heated die of brass, or other metal, worked by machinery. the lettering of the title is done in the same way, only that gold-leaf is applied before the die falls. lastly, the book is pasted by its fly leaves or end-leaves, (sometimes with the addition of a cloth guard) to the inside of the cloth case or cover, and the book is done, after a final pressing. by these rapid machine methods a single book-manufacturing house can turn out ten thousand volumes in a day, with a rapidity which almost takes the breath away from the beholder. there is a kind of binding which dispenses entirely with sewing the sheets of a book. the backs are soaked with a solution of india-rubber, and each sheet must be thoroughly agglutinated to the backs, so as to adhere firmly to its fellows. this requires that all the sheets shall be folded as single leaves or folios, otherwise the inner leaves of the sheets, having no sewing, would drop out. this method is employed on volumes of plates, music, or any books made up of large separate sheets. in notable contrast to these rapid methods of binding what are termed case-made books, comes the hand-made process, where only partial use of machinery is possible. the rebinding process is divided into three branches: preparing, forwarding, and finishing. the most vital distinction between a machine-made and a hand-made binding, is that the cloth or case-made book is not fastened into its cover in a firm and permanent way, as in leather-backed books. it is simply pasted or glued to its boards--not interlaced by the cords or bands on which it is sewed. hence one can easily tear off the whole cover of a cloth-bound book, by a slight effort, and such volumes tend to come to pieces early, under constant wear and tear of library service. let us now turn to the practical steps pursued in the treatment of books for library use. in re-binding a book, the first step is to take the book apart, or, as it is sometimes called, to take it to pieces. this is done by first stripping off its cover, if it has one. cloth covers easily come off, as their boards are not tied to the cords on which the book is sewed, but are simply fastened by paste or glue to the boards by a muslin guard, or else the cloth is glued to the back of the book. if the book is leather-covered, or half-bound, _i. e._: with a leather back and (usually) leather on its four corners, taking it to pieces is a somewhat slower process. the binder's knife is used to cut the leather at the joints or hinges of the volume, so that the boards may be removed. the cords that tie the boards to the volume are cut at the same time. if the book has a loose or flexible back, the whole cover comes easily off: if bound with a tight back, the glued leather back must be soaked with a sponge full of water, till it is soft enough to peel off, and let the sheets be easily separated. the book is now stripped of its former binding, and the next step is to take it apart, signature by signature. a signature is that number of leaves which make up one sheet of the book in hand. thus, an octavo volume, or a volume printed in eights, as it is called, has eight leaves, or sixteen pages to a signature; a quarto four leaves; a duodecimo, or mo. twelve leaves. the term signature (from lat. _signare_, a sign) is also applied to a letter or figure printed at the foot of the first page of each sheet or section of the book. if the letters are used, the signatures begin with a. and follow in regular sequence of the alphabet. if the book is a very thick one, (or more than twenty-six signatures) then after signature z, it is customary to duplicate the letters--a. a.--etc., for the remaining signatures. if figures are used instead of letters, the signatures run on to the last, in order of numbers. these letters, indicating signatures are an aid to the binder, in folding, "gathering," and collating the consecutive sheets of any book, saving constant reference to the "pagination," as it is termed, or the paging of the volume, which would take much more time. in many books, you find the signature repeated in the "inset," or the inner leaves of the sheet, with a star or a figure to mark the sequence. many books, however, are now printed without any signature marks whatever. to return: in taking apart the sheets or signatures, where they are stuck together at the back by adhesive glue or paste, the knife is first used to cut the thread in the grooves, where the book is sewed on cords or tape. then the back is again soaked, the sheets are carefully separated, and the adhering substance removed by the knife or fingers. care has to be taken to lay the signatures in strict order or sequence of pages, or the book may be bound up wrongly. the threads are next to be removed from the inside of every sheet. the sheets being all separated, the book is next pressed, to render all the leaves smooth, and the book solid for binding. formerly, books were beaten by a powerful hammer, to accomplish this, but it is much more quickly and effectively done in most binderies by the ordinary screw press. every pressing of books should leave them under pressure at least eight hours. after pressing, the next step is to sew the sheets on to cords or twine, set vertically at proper distances in a frame, called a "sewing bench," for this purpose. no book can be thoroughly well bound if the sewing is slighted in any degree. insist upon strong, honest linen thread--if it breaks with a slight pull it is not fit to be used in a book. the book is prepared for the sewer by sawing several grooves across the back with a common saw. the two end grooves are light and narrow, the central ones wider and deeper. into these inner grooves, the cords fit easily, and the book being taken, sheet by sheet, is firmly sewed around the cords, by alternate movements of the needle and thread, always along the middle of the sheet, the thread making a firm knot at each end (called the "kettle-stitch") as it is returned for sewing on the next sheet. sometimes the backs are not sawed at all, but the sheets of the book are sewed around the cords, which thus project a little from the back, and form the "bands," seen in raised form on the backs of some books. books should be sewed on three to six cords, according to their size. this raised-band sewing is reckoned by some a feature of excellent binding. the sunken-band style is apt to give a stiff back, while the raised bands are usually treated with a flexible back. when sewed, the book is detached from its fellows, which may have been sewed on the same bench, by slipping it along the cords, then cutting them apart, so as to leave some two inches of each cord projecting, as ends to be fastened later to the board. in careful binding, the thread is sewed "all along," _i. e._: each sheet by itself, instead of "two on," as it is called. the next process is termed "lining up," and consists of putting on the proper fly-leaves or end-leaves, at the beginning and end of the volume. these usually consist of four leaves of ordinary white printing paper at each end, sometimes finished out with two leaves of colored or marbled paper, to add a touch of beauty to the book when opened. marbled paper is more durable in color than the tinted, and does not stain so easily. one of these end-leaves is pasted down to the inside cover, while the other is left flying--whence "fly-leaf." after this comes the cutting of the book at the edges. this is done by screwing it firmly in a cutting-machine, which works a sharp knife rapidly, shaving off the edges successively of the head, front and end, or "tail" as it is called in book-binding parlance. this trimming used to be done by hand, with a sharp cutting knife called by binders a "plough." now, there are many forms of cutting machines, some of which are called "guillotines" for an obvious reason. in binding some books, which it is desired to preserve with wide margins, only a mere shaving is taken off the head, so as to leave it smooth at the top, letting the front and tail leaves remain uncut. but in case of re-binding much-used books, the edges are commonly so much soiled that trimming all around may be required, in order that they may present a decent appearance. yet in no case should the binder be allowed to cut any book deeply, so as to destroy a good, fair margin. care must also be taken to cut the margins evenly, at right angles, avoiding any crooked lines. after cutting the book comes "rounding," or giving the back of the book a curved instead of its flat shape. this process is done with the hand, by a hammer, or in a rounding press, with a metallic roller. before rounding, the back of the book is glued up, that is, receives a coating of melted glue with a glueing brush, to hold the sections together, and render the back firm, and a thorough rubbing of the back with hot glue between the sections gives strength to the volume. next comes the treatment of the edges of the book, hitherto all white, in order to protect them from showing soil in long use. sometimes (and this is the cheaper process) the books are simply sprinkled at the edges with a brush dipped in a dark fluid made of burnt umber or red ochre, and shaken with a quick concussion near the edges until they receive a sprinkle of color from the brush. other books receive what is called a solid color on the edges, the books being screwed into a press, and the color applied with a sponge or brush. but a marbled edge presents a far more handsome appearance, and should harmonize in color and figure with the marbled paper of the end leaves. marbling, so called from its imitation of richly veined colored marble, is staining paper or book edges with variegated colors. the process of marbling is highly curious, both chemically and aesthetically, and may be briefly described. a large shallow trough or vat is filled with prepared gum water (gum-tragacanth being used); on the surface of this gum-water bright colors, mixed with a little ox-gall, to be used in producing the composite effect aimed at in the marbling are thrown or sprinkled in liquid form. then they are deftly stirred or agitated on the surface of the water, with an implement shaped to produce a certain pattern. the most commonly used one is a long metallic comb, which is drawn across the surface of the combined liquids, leaving its pattern impressed upon the ductile fluid. the edges of the book to be marbled are then touched or dipped on the top of the water, on which the coloring matter floats, and at once withdrawn, exhibiting on the edge the precise pattern of "combed marble" desired, since the various colors--red, yellow, blue, white, etc., have adhered to the surface of the book-edges. the serrated and diversified effect of most comb-marbling is due to stroking the comb in waved lines over the surface. the spotted effect so much admired in other forms, is produced by throwing the colors on with a brush, at the fancy of the skilled workman, or artist, as you may call him. marbled paper is made in the same way, by dipping one surface of the white sheet, held in a curved form, with great care on the surface of the coloring vat. this is termed shell and wave marbling, as distinguished from comb-marbling. the paper or the book edges are next finished by sizing and burnishing, which gives them a bright glistening appearance. a still more ornate effect in a book is attained by gilding the edges. frequently the head of a book is gilt, leaving the front and tail of an uncut book without ornament, and this is esteemed a very elegant style by book connoisseurs, who are, or should be solicitous of wide margins. the gilding of the top edge is a partial protection from dust falling inside, to which the other edges are not so liable. to gild a book edge, it is placed in a press, the edges scraped or smoothed, and coated with a red-colored fluid, which serves to heighten the effect of the gold. then a sizing is applied by a camel's-hair brush, being a sticky substance, usually the white of an egg, mixed with water (termed by binders "glaire") and the gold-leaf is laid smoothly over it. when the sizing is dry, the gold is burnished with a tool, tipped with an agate or blood-stone, drawn forcibly over the edge until it assumes a glistening appearance. after the edges have been treated by whatever process, there follows what is termed the "backing" of the book. the volume is pressed between iron clamps, and the back is hammered or rolled where it joins the sides, so as to form a groove to hold the boards forming the solid portion of the cover of every book. a backing-machine is sometimes used for this process, making by pressure the joint or groove for the boards. then the "head-band" is glued on, being a silk braid or colored muslin, fastened around a cord, which projects a little above the head and the tail, at the back of the book, giving it a more finished appearance. at the same time, a book-mark for keeping the place is sometimes inserted and fastened like the head-band. this is often a narrow ribbon of colored silk, or satin, and helps to give a finish to the book, as well as to furnish the reader a trustworthy guide to keep a place--as it will not fall out like bits of paper inserted for that purpose. next, the mill-boards are applied, cut so as to project about an eighth to a quarter of an inch from the edges of the book on three sides. the book is held to the boards by the ends of its cords being interlaced, _i. e._: passed twice through holes pierced in the boards, the loose ends of the cords being then wet with paste and hammered down flat to the surface of the boards. the best tar-boards should be used, which are made of old rope; no board made of straw is fit to be used on any book. straw boards are an abomination--a cheap expedient which costs dearly in the end. the binder should use heavy boards on the larger and thicker volumes, but thin ones on all duodecimos and smaller sizes. next, the books are subjected to a second pressing, after which the lining of the back is in order. good thick brown paper is generally used for this, cut to the length of the book, and is firmly glued to the back, and rubbed down closely with a bone folder. a cloth "joint," or piece of linen (termed "muslin super,") is often glued to the back, with two narrow flaps to be pasted to the boards, on each side, thus giving greater tenacity to the covering. if the book is to be backed so as to open freely, that is, to have a spring back or elastic back, two thicknesses of a firm, strong paper, or thin card-board are used, one thickness of the paper being glued to the back of the book, while the other--open in the middle, but fastened at the edges, is to be glued to the leather of which the back is to be made. after this, comes putting the book in leather. if full bound a piece of leather cut full size of the volume, with about half an inch over, is firmly glued or pasted to the boards and the back, the leather being turned over the edges of the boards, and nicely glued on their inside margin. it is of great importance that the edges of the leather should be smoothly pared down with a sharp knife, so as to present an even edge where the leather joins the boards, not a protuberance--which makes an ugly and clumsy piece of work, instead of a neat one. for half-binding, a piece of leather is taken large enough to cover the back lengthwise, and turn in at the head and tail, while the width should be such as to allow from one to one and a half inches of the leather to be firmly glued to the boards next the back. the four corners of the boards are next to be leathered, the edges of the leather being carefully pared down, to give a smooth surface, even with the boards, when turned in. the leather is usually wet, preparatory to being manipulated thus, which renders it more flexible and ductile than in its dry state. the cloth or marbled paper is afterwards pasted or glued to the sides of the book, and turned neatly over the edge of the boards. it may be added, that the edges of the boards, in binding nice books, are sometimes ground off on a swiftly revolving emery-wheel, giving the book a beveled edge, which is regarded as handsomer and more finished than a straight rectangular edge. all the processes hitherto described are called "forwarding" the book: we now come to what is denominated "finishing." this includes the lettering of the title, and the embellishing of the back and sides, with or without gilding, as the case may be. before this is taken in hand, the leather of the book must be perfectly dry. for the lettering, copper-faced types are used to set up the desired sequence of letters and words, and care and taste should be exercised to have ( ) types neither too large, which present a clumsy appearance, nor too small, which are difficult to read. ( ) proper spacing of the words and lines, and "balancing" the component parts of the lettering on the back, so as to present a neat and harmonious effect to the eye. a word should never be divided or hyphenated in lettering, when it can be avoided. in the case of quite thin volumes, the title may be lettered lengthwise along the back, in plain, legible type, instead of in very small letters across the back, which are often illegible. the method of applying gold lettering is as follows: the back of the book where the title is to go, is first moistened with a sticky substance, as albumen or glaire, heretofore mentioned, laid on with a camel's hair brush. the type (or the die as the case may be) is heated in a binder's charcoal furnace, or gas stove, to insure the adhesion of the gold leaf. the thin gold leaf (which comes packed in little square "books," one sheet between every two leaves) is then cut the proper size by the broad thin knife of the "finisher," and carefully laid over the sized spot to receive the lettering. usually, two thicknesses of gold leaf are laid one above another, which ensures a brighter and more decided effect in the lettering. the type metal or die is then pressed firmly and evenly down upon the gold-leaf, and the surplus shavings of the gold carefully brushed off and husbanded, for this leaf is worth money. the gold leaf generally in use costs about $ . for little squares or sheets. it is almost inconceivably thin, the thickness of one gold leaf being estimated at about / of an inch. besides the lettering, many books receive gold ornamentation on the back or side of a more or less elaborate character. designs of great artistic beauty, and in countless variety, have been devised for book ornaments, and french and english book-binders have vied with each other for generations in the production of decorative borders, fillets, centre-pieces, rolls, and the most exquisite gold-tooling, of which the art is capable. these varied patterns of book ornamentation are cut in brass or steel, and applied by the embossing press with a rapidity far exceeding that of the hand-work formerly executed by the gilders of books. but for choice books and select jobs, only the hands are employed, with such fillets, stamps, pallets, rolls, and polishing irons as may aid in the nice execution of the work. if a book is to be bound in what is called "morocco antique," it is to be "blind-tooled," _i. e._: the hot iron wheels which impress the fillets or rolls, are to be worked in blank, or without gold-leaf ornamentation. this is a rich and tasteful binding, especially with carefully beveled boards, and gilded edges. on some books, money has been lavished on the binding to an amount exceeding by many fold the cost of the book itself. elegant book-binding has come to be reckoned as a fine art, and why should not "the art preservative of all other arts"--printing--be preserved in permanent and sumptuous, if not splendid style, in its environment? specimens of french artistic binding from the library of grolier, that celebrated and munificent patron of art, who died in , have passed through the hands of many eager connoisseurs, always at advancing prices. the grolier binding was notable for the elegant finish of its interlaced ornaments in gold-leaf, a delicacy of touch, and an inimitable flowing grace, which modern binders have struggled after in vain. at the beckford library sale in london, in , there was a great array of fine french bindings of early date. a book from grolier's library, the "toison d'or," , brought £ , or over $ , , and a heptameron, which had belonged to louis xiv, in beautiful brown morocco, with crown, fleur-de-lys, a stag, a cock, and stars, as ornaments, all exquisitely worked in gold, lined with vellum, was sold for £ . following the grolier patterns, came another highly decorative style, by the french binders, which was notable for the very delicate gold tooling, covering the whole sides of the book with exquisite scroll-work, and branches of laurel. the most celebrated of english book-binders was roger payne, who was notable for the careful labor bestowed on the forwarding and finishing of his books, specimens of which are still reckoned among the _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of the art. his favorite style was a roughly-grained red morocco, always full-bound, and he kept in view what many binders forget, that the leather is the main thing in a finely executed binding, not to be overlaid by too much gilding and decoration. he charged twelve guineas each (over $ ) for binding some small volumes in his best style. payne's most notable successors have been lewis, hayday, bedford, and zaehnsdorf, the latter of whom is the author of a treatise on book-binding. at the art exhibition of , a book bound by bedford was exhibited, which took two months merely to finish, and the binding cost forty guineas; and a doré's dante, exquisitely bound by zaehnsdorf, in grolier style, cost one hundred guineas. a decorative treatment not yet mentioned is applied to the covers of some books, which are bound in elegant full calf. to give to this leather the elegant finish known as "tree-calf binding", it is first washed with glaire or albumen. the boards of the book are then bent to a convex shape, and water sprinkled over, until it runs down from the centre in many little branches or rivulets. while running, a solution of copperas is sprinkled on, and carried along the branches which radiate from the central trunk, producing the dark-mottled colored effect which resembles, more or less nearly, a tree with its spreading branches. to make the book beautiful should be the united aim of all who are concerned in its manufacture--the paper-maker, the printer, and the book-binder. while utility comes first in the art of book-making for libraries, yet neatness and even elegance should always be united with it. an ill-forwarded book, or a badly finished one, presents a clumsy, unattractive look to the eye; while an evenly made piece of work, and a careful and tasteful ornamentation in the gilding, attract every discerning reader by their beauty. one writer upon book-binding terms the forwarder of the book an artizan, and the finisher an artist; but both should have the true artist's taste, in order to produce the work that shall commend itself by intrinsic excellence. the form and shape of the book depend wholly, indeed, on the forwarder. we are told that the great beauty of the grolier bindings lay in the lavish and tasteful adornment of the sides. in fact, much depends upon the design, in every piece of decorative work. the pretty scroll patterns, the interlaced figures, the delicate tracery, the circles, rosettes, and stars, the lovely arabesques, the flowers and leaves borrowed from the floral kingdom, the geometric lines, the embroidered borders, like fine lace-work,--all these lend their separate individual charms to the finish of the varied specimens of the binder's art. there are some books that look as brilliant as jewels in their rich, lustrous adornment, the design sometimes powdered with gold points and stars. some gems of art are lined with rich colored leather in the inside covers, which are stamped and figured in gold. this is termed "_doublé_" by the french. some have their edges gilded over marbling, a refinement of beauty which adds richness to the work, the marble design showing through the brilliant gold, when the edge is turned. others have pictorial designs drawn on the edges, which are then gilded over the pictures. this complex style of gilding, the french term _gaufré_. it was formerly much in vogue, but is latterly out of fashion. many gems of binding are adorned with fly-leaves of moire silk, or rich colored satin. color, interspersed with gold in the finish of a book covering, heightens the effect. the morocco of the side-cover is sometimes cut, and inlaid with leather of a different color. inlaying with morocco or kid is the richest style of decoration which the art has yet reached. beautiful bindings have been in greater request during the past twenty years than ever before. there was a renaissance of the ancient styles of decoration in france, and the choice grolier and maioli patterns were revived with the general applause of the lovers of fine books. in vivid contrast to these lovely specimens of the binder's art, are found innumerable bibliopegic horrors, on the shelves of countless libraries, public and private. among these are to be reckoned most law books, clad in that dead monotony of ugliness, which charles dickens has described as "that _under-done pie-crust_ cover, which is technically known as law calf." there are other uncouth and unwholesome specimens everywhere abroad, "whom satan hath bound", to borrow mr. henry stevens's witty application of a well-known scripture text. such repellant bindings are only fit to serve as models to be avoided by the librarian. the binding that is executed by machinery is sometimes called "commercial binding". it is also known as "edition binding", because the whole edition of a book is bound in uniform style of cover. while the modern figured cloth binding originated in england, it has had its fullest development in the united states. here, those ingenious and powerful machines which execute every branch of the folding and forwarding of a book, and even the finishing of the covers, with almost lightning speed, were mostly invented and applied. very vivid is the contrast between the quiet, humdrum air of the old-fashioned bindery hand-work, and the ceaseless clang and roar of the machinery which turns out thousands of volumes in a day. "not as ours the books of old, things that steam can stamp and fold." i believe that i failed to notice, among the varieties of material for book-bindings heretofore enumerated, some of the rarer and more singular styles. thus, books have been bound in enamel, (richly variegated in color) in persian silk, in seal-skin, in the skin of the rabbit, white-bear, crocodile, cat, dog, mole, tiger, otter, buffalo, wolf, and even rattle-snake. a favorite modern leather for purses and satchels, alligator-skin, has been also applied to the clothing of books. many eccentric fancies have been exemplified in book-binding, but the acme of gruesome oddity has been reached by binding books in human skin, of which many examples are on record. it is perhaps three centuries old, but the first considerable instance of its use grew out of the horrors of the french revolution. in england, the bristol law library has several volumes bound in the skin of local criminals, flayed after execution, and specially tanned for the purpose. it is described as rather darker than vellum. a russian poet is said to have bound his sonnets in human leather--his own skin--taken from a broken thigh--and the book he presented to the lady of his affections! such ghoulish incidents as these afford curious though repulsive glimpses of the endless vagaries of human nature. it is said that the invention of half-binding originated among the economists of germany; and some wealthy bibliophiles have stigmatized this style of dressing books as "genteel poverty." but its utility and economy have been demonstrated too long to admit of any doubt that half-binding has come to stay; while, as we have seen, it is also capable of attractive aesthetic features. mr. william matthews, perhaps the foremost of american binders, said that "a book when neatly forwarded, and cleanly covered, is in a very satisfactory condition without any finishing or decorating." it was this same binder who exhibited at the new york world's fair exhibition of , a copy of owen jones's alhambra, bound by him in full russia, inlaid with blue and red morocco, with gold tooling all executed by hand, taking six months to complete, and costing the binder no less than five hundred dollars. book lettering, or stamping the proper title on the back of the book, is a matter of the first importance. as the titles of most books are much too long to go on the back, a careful selection of the most distinctive words becomes necessary. here the taste and judgment of the librarian come indispensably into play. to select the lettering of a book should never be left to the binder, because it is not his business, and because, in most cases, he will make a mistake somewhere in the matter. from want of care on this point, many libraries are filled with wrongly lettered books, misleading titles, and blunders as ludicrous as they are distressing. i have had to have thousands of volumes in the library of congress re-lettered. a copy of lord bacon's "sylva sylvarum", for example, was lettered "verlum's sylva"--because the sapient binder read on the title-page "by baron verulam", and it was not his business to find out that this was the title of honor which bacon bore; so, by a compound blunder, he converted verulam into verlum, and gave the book to an unknown writer. this is perhaps an extreme case, but you will find many to match it. another folio, rochefort's history of the caribby islands, was lettered "davies' carriby islands," because the title bore the statement "rendered into english by john davies." in another library, the great work of the naturalist, buffon, was actually lettered "buffoon's natural history." neither of these blunders was as bad as that of the owner of an elegant black-letter edition of a latin classic, which was printed without title-page, like most fifteenth century books, and began at the top of the first leaf, in large letters--"hoc incipit," signifying "this begins", followed by the title or subject of the book. the wiseacre who owned it had the book richly bound, and directed it to be lettered on the back--"works of hoc incipit, rome, ." this is a true story, and the hero of it might perhaps, on the strength of owning so many learned works, have passed for a philosopher, if he had not taken the pains to advertise himself as a blockhead. some of the commonest blunders are stamping on the back the translator's or the editor's name, instead of that of the author of the book; putting on adjectives instead of substantives for titles; modernizing ancient and characteristic spelling, found in the title, (the exact orthography of which should always be followed); mixing up the number and the case of latin titles, and those in other foreign languages; leaving off entirely the name of the writer; and lettering periodicals by putting on the volume without the year, or the year, without the number of the volume. "no one but an idiot", said mr. c. walford to the london librarians' conference, "would send his books to the binder, without indicating the lettering he desires on the backs." the only safe-guard is for the librarian or owner to prescribe on a written slip in each volume, a title for every book, before it goes to the binder, who will be only too glad to have his own time saved--since time is money to him. i would not underrate the book-binders, who are a most worthy and intelligent class, numbering in their ranks men who are scholars as well as artists; but they are concerned chiefly with the mechanics and not with the metaphysics of their art, and moreover, they are not bound by that rigid rule which should govern the librarian--namely--to have no ignoramus about the premises. in writing letterings (for i take it that no one would be guilty of defacing his title-pages by marking them up with directions to the binder) you should definitely write out the parts of the title as they are to run on the back of the book, spaced line upon line, and not "run together." i think that the name of the author should always stand first at the head of the lettering, because it affords the quickest guide to the eye in finding any book, as well as in replacing it upon the shelves. especially useful and time-saving is this, where classes of books are arranged in alphabetical sequence. is not the name of the author commonly uppermost in the mind of the searcher? then, let it be uppermost on the book sought also. follow the name of the author by the briefest possible words selected from the title which will suffice to characterize the subject of the work. thus, the title--"on the origin of species by means of natural selection", by charles darwin, should be abbreviated into darwin -------- origin of species. here are no superfluous words, to consume the binder's time and gold-leaf, and to be charged in the bill; or to consume the time of the book-searcher, in stopping to read a lot of surplusage on the back of the book, before seizing it for immediate use. books in several volumes should have the number of each volume plainly marked in arabic (not roman) numerals on the back. the old-fashioned method of expressing numerals by letters, instead of figures, is too cumbrous and time-consuming to be tolerated. you want to letter, we will say, vol. of blackwood's magazine. if you follow the title-page of that book, as printed, you have to write "volume lxxxviii," eight letters, for the number of the volume, instead of two simple figures--thus-- . now can any one give a valid reason for the awkward and tedious method of notation exhibited in the roman numerals? if it were only the lost time of the person who writes it, or the binder's finisher who letters it, it would be comparatively insignificant. but think of the time wasted by the whole world of readers, who must go through a more or less troublesome process of notation before they get a clear notion of what all this superfluous stuff stands for instead of the quick intuition with which they take in the arabic figures; and who must moreover, by the antiquated method, take valuable time to write out lxxxviii, eight figures instead of two, to say nothing of the added liability to error, which increases in the exact ratio of the number of figures to be written. which of these two forms of expression is more quickly written, or stamped, or read? by which method of notation will the library messenger boys or girls soonest find the book? this leads me to say what cannot be too strongly insisted upon; all library methods should be time-saving methods, and so devised for the benefit alike of the librarian, the assistants, and the readers. until one has learned the supreme value of moments, he will not be fit for a librarian. the same method by arabic numerals only, should be used in all references to books; and it would be well if the legal fashion of citing authorities by volume and page, now adopted in most law books, were extended to all literature--thus: " macaulay's england, . n. y. ," instead of "macaulay's england, n. y. ed. . vol. , page ." it is a matter of congratulation to all librarians, as well as to the reading public, that poole's indexes to periodical literature have wisely adopted arabic figures only, both for volume and page. the valuable time thus saved to all is quite incalculable. every book which is leather-bound has its back divided off into panels or sections, by the band across the back or by the gold or plain fillet or roll forming part of the finish of the book. these panels are usually five or six in number, the former being the more common. now it is the librarian's function to prescribe in which of these panels the lettering of the book--especially where there is double lettering--shall go. thus | cousin | | | | | | ---- | | | | new | nd | history | th | wight | end |york, | panel | of | panel | | | . | | modern | | | | | | philosophy.| | | | | many books, especially dramatic works, and the collected works of authors require the contents of the various volumes to be briefed on the back. here is a shakespeare, for example, in volumes, or a swift in , or carlyle in , and you want to find _king lear_, or _gulliver's travels_, or _heroes and hero worship_. the other volumes concern you not--but you want the shortest road to these. if the name of each play is briefed by the first word upon the different volumes of your shakespeare, or the contents of each volume upon the swift and the carlyle,--as they should be--you find instantly what you want, with one glance of the eye along the backs. if put to the trouble of opening every volume to find the contents, or of hunting it in the index, or the library catalogue, you lose precious time, while readers wait, thus making the needless delay cumulative, and as it must be often repeated, indefinite. each volume should have its date and place of publication plainly lettered at the lower end, or what binders term the tail of the book. this often saves time, as you may not want an edition of old date, or _vice versa_, while the place and date enable readers' tickets to be filled out quickly without the book. the name of the library might well be lettered also on the back, being more obvious as a permanent means of identification than the book-plate or inside stamp. books should never be used when fresh from the binder's hands. the covers are then always damp, and warp on exposure to air and heat. unless pressed firmly in shelves, or in piles, for at least two weeks, they may become incurably warped out of shape. many an otherwise handsomely bound book is ruined by neglect of this caution, for once thoroughly dried in its warped condition, there is no remedy save the costly one of rebinding. books are frequently lettered so carelessly that the titles instead of aligning, or being in straight horizontal lines, run obliquely upward or downward, thus defacing the volume. errors in spelling words are also liable to occur. all crooked lettering and all mistakes in spelling should at once be rejected, and the faulty books returned to the binder, to be corrected at his own expense. this severe revision of all books when newly bound, before they are placed upon the shelves, should be done by the librarian's or owner's own eye--not entrusted to subordinates, unless to one thoroughly skilled. one should never receive back books from a binder without collating them, to see if all are perfect as to pages, and if all plates or maps are in place. if deficiencies are found, the binder, and not the library is responsible, provided the book was known to be perfect when sent for binding. in the congressional library i had the periodicals which are analyzed in poole's index of periodical literature thoroughly compared and re-lettered, wherever necessary, to make the series of volumes correspond with the references in that invaluable and labor-saving index. for instance, the eclectic review, as published in london, had eight distinct and successive series (thus confusing reference by making eight different volumes called , , , etc.) each with a different numbering, "first series, d series," etc., which poole's index very properly consolidated into one, for convenient reference. by adding the figures as scheduled in that work--prefixed by the words _poole's index no._ ---- or simply _poole_, in small letters, followed by the figure of the volume as given in that index, you will find a saving of time in hunting and supplying references that is almost incalculable. if you cannot afford to have this re-numbering done by a binder in gilt letters, it will many times repay the cost and time of doing it on thin manila paper titles, written or printed by a numbering machine and pasted on the backs of the volumes. in all periodicals,--magazines and serials of every kind,--the covers and their advertisements should be bound in their proper place, with each month or number of the periodical, though it may interrupt the continuity of the paging. thus will be preserved valuable contemporary records respecting prices, bibliographical information, etc., which should never be destroyed, as it is illustrative of the life and history of the period. the covers of the magazines, too, frequently contain the table of contents of the number, which of course must be prefixed to it, in order to be of any use. if advertising pages are very numerous and bulky, (as in many popular periodicals of late years) they may well be bound at the end of the volume, or, if so many as to make the volume excessively thick, they might be bound in a supplementary volume. in all books, half-titles or bastard titles, as they are called, should be bound in, as they are a part of the book. with each lot of books to be bound, there should always be sent a sample volume of good work as a pattern, that the binder may have no excuse for hasty or inferior workmanship. the grolier club was founded in new york in , having for its objects to promote the literary study and progress of the arts pertaining to the production of books. it has published more than twenty books in sumptuous style, and mostly in quarto form, the editions being limited to copies at first, since increased to , under the rapidly enlarging membership of the club. most of these books relate to fine binding, fine printing, or fine illustration of books, or are intended to exemplify them, and by their means, by lectures, and exhibitions of fine book-work, this society has contributed much toward the diffusion of correct taste. more care has been bestowed upon fine binding in new york than in london itself. in fact, elegant book-binding is coming to be recognized as one of the foremost of the decorative arts. the art of designing book-covers and patterns for gilding books has engaged the talents of many artists, among whom may be named edwin a. abbey, howard pyle, stanford white, and elihu vedder. nor have skilful designs been wanting among women, as witness mrs. whitman's elegant tea-leaf border for the cover of dr. o. w. holmes's "over the tea-cups," and miss alice morse's arabesques and medallions for lafcadio hearn's "two years in the french west indies." miss may morris designed many tasteful letters for the fine bindings executed by mr. cobden-sanderson of london, and kate greenaway's many exquisite little books for little people have become widely known for their quaint and curious cover designs. a new field thus opens for skilled cultivators of the beautiful who have an eye for the art of drawing. mr. william matthews, the accomplished new york binder, in an address before the grolier club in , said: "i have been astonished that so few women--in america, i know none--are encouragers of the art; they certainly could not bestow their taste on anything that would do them more credit, or as a study, give them more satisfaction." it is but fair to add that since this judgment was put forth, its implied reproach is no longer applicable: a number of american women have interested themselves in the study of binding as a fine art; and some few in practical work as binders of books. there is no question that readers take a greater interest in books that are neatly and attractively bound, than in volumes dressed in a mean garb. no book owner or librarian with any knowledge of the incurable defects of calf, sheep, or roan leather, if he has any regard for the usefulness or the economies of his library, will use them in binding books that are to possess permanent value in personal or public use. true economy lies in employing the best description of binding in the first instance. when it is considered that the purposed object of book-binding is to preserve in a shape at once attractive and permanent, the best and noblest thoughts of man, it rises to a high rank among the arts. side by side with printing, it strives after that perfection which shall ensure the perpetuity of human thought. thus a book, clothed in morocco, is not a mere piece of mechanism, but a vehicle in which the intellectual life of writers no longer on earth is transmitted from age to age. and it is the art of book-binding which renders libraries possible. what the author, the printer, and the binder create, the library takes charge of and preserves. it is thus that the material and the practical link themselves indissolubly with the ideal. and the ideal of every true librarian should be so to care for the embodiments of intelligence entrusted to his guardianship, that they may become in the highest degree useful to mankind. in this sense, the care bestowed upon thorough and enduring binding can hardly be overrated, since the life of the book depends upon it. chapter . preparation for the shelves: book plates, etc. when any lot of books is acquired, whether by purchase from book-dealers or from auction, or by presentation, the first step to be taken, after seeing that they agree with the bill, and have been collated, in accordance with methods elsewhere given, should be to stamp and label each volume, as the property of the library. these two processes are quite distinct, and may be performed by one or two persons, according to convenience, or to the library force employed. the stamp may be the ordinary rubber one, inked by striking on a pad, and ink of any color may be used, although black or blue ink has the neatest appearance. the stamp should bear the name of the library, in clear, legible, plain type, with year of acquisition of the book in the centre, followed by the month and day if desired. a more permanent kind of stamp is the embossing stamp, which is a steel die, the letters cut in relief, but it is very expensive and slow, requiring the leaf to be inserted between the two parts of the stamp, though the impression, once made, is practically indelible. the size of the stamp (which is preferably oval in shape) should not exceed ¼ to ½ inches in diameter, as a large, coarse stamp never presents a neat appearance on a book. indeed, many books are too small to admit any but a stamp of very moderate dimensions. the books should be stamped on the verso (reverse) of the title page, or if preferred, on the widest unprinted portion of the title-page, preferably on the right hand of the centre, or just below the centre on the right. this, because its impression is far more legible on the plain white surface than on any part of the printed title. in a circulating library, the stamps should be impressed on one or more pages in the body of the book, as well as on the last page, as a means of identification if the book is stolen or otherwise lost; as it is very easy to erase the impression of a rubber stamp from the title-page, and thereby commit a fraud by appropriating or selling the book. in such a case, the duplicate or triplicate impression of the stamp on some subsequent page (say page or , many books having but few pages) as fixed upon by the librarian, is quite likely to escape notice of the thief, while it remains a safe-guard, enabling the librarian to reclaim the book, wherever found. the law will enforce this right of free reclamation in favor of a public library, in the case of stolen books, no matter in what hands found, and even though the last holder may be an innocent purchaser. all libraries are victimized at some time by unscrupulous or dishonest readers, who will appropriate books, thinking themselves safe from detection, and sometimes easing their consciences, (if they have any) by the plea that the book is in a measure public property. in these cases, there is no absolute safe-guard, as it is easy to carry off a book under one's coat, and the librarian and his few aids are far too busy to act as detectives in watching readers. still, a vigilant librarian will almost always find out, by some suspicious circumstance--such as the hiding of books away, or a certain furtive action observed in a reader--who are the persons that should be watched, and when it is advisable to call in the policeman. the british museum library, which has no circulation or book lending, enforces a rule that no one making his exit can have a book with him, unless checked as his own property, all overcoats and other wraps being of course checked at the door. it is a melancholy fact, duly recorded in a massachusetts paper, that no less than two hundred and fifty volumes, duly labeled and stamped as public library books, were stolen from a single library in a single year, and sold to second-hand booksellers. the impression of the stamp in the middle of a certain page, known to the librarian, renders it less liable to detection by others, while if stamped on the lower unprinted margin, it might be cut out by a designing person. next to the stamping, comes the labeling of the books to be added to the library. this is a mechanical process, and yet one of much importance. upon its being done neatly and properly, depends the good or bad appearance of the library books, as labels with rough or ragged edges, or put on askew, or trimmed irregularly at their margins, present an ugly and unfinished aspect, offensive to the eye of good taste, and reflecting discredit on the management. a librarian should take pride in seeing all details of his work carefully and neatly carried out. if he cannot have perfection, from want of time, he should always aim at it, at least, and then only will he come near to achieving it. the label, or book-plate (for they are one and the same thing) should be of convenient size to go into books both small and large; and a good size is approximately ¼ inches wide by ½ inches high when trimmed. as comparatively few libraries care to go to the expense, which is about ten times that of printing, of an engraved label (although such work adds to the attractiveness of the books containing it) it should be printed in clear, not ornamental type, with the name of the library, that of the city or town in which it is located (unless forming a part of the title) and the abbreviation no. for number, with such other spaces for section marks or divisions, shelf-marks, etc., as the classification adopted may require. the whole should be enclosed in an ornamental border--not too ornate for good taste. the labels, nicely trimmed to uniform size by a cutting machine, (if that is not in the library equipment, any binder will do it for you) are next to be pasted or gummed, as preferred. this process is a nice one, requiring patience, care, and practice. most libraries are full of books imperfectly labelled, pasted on in crooked fashion, or perhaps damaging the end-leaves by an over-use of paste, causing the leaves to adhere to the page labelled--which should always be the inside left hand cover of the book. this slovenly work is unworthy of a skilled librarian, who should not suffer torn waste leaves, nor daubs of over-running paste in any of his books. to prevent both these blunders in library economy, it is only needful to instruct any intelligent assistant thoroughly, by practical example how to do it--accompanied by a counter-example how not to do it. the way to do it is to have your paste as thin as that used by binders in pasting their fly-leaves, or their leather, or about the consistency of porridge or pea soup. then lay the label or book-plate face downward on a board or table covered with blotting paper, dip your paste brush (a half inch bristle brush is the best) in the paste, stroke it (to remove too much adhering matter) on the inner side of your paste cup, then apply it across the whole surface of the label, with light, even strokes of the brush, until you see that it is all moistened with paste. next, take up the label and lay it evenly in the middle of the left inner cover page of the book to be labelled, and with a small piece of paper (not with the naked fingers) laid over it, stroke it down firmly in its place, by rubbing over a few times the incumbent paper. this being properly done (and it is done by an expert, once learned, very rapidly) your book-plate will be firmly and smoothly pasted in, with no exuding of paste at the edges, to spoil the fly-leaves, and no curling up of edges because insufficiently pasted down. so much for the book-plate--for the inside of the volumes; now let us turn attention to the outside label. this is necessarily very much smaller than the book-plate: in fact, it should not be larger than three-quarters or seven-eighths of an inch in diameter, and even smaller for the thinner volumes, while in the case of the very smallest, or thinnest of books, it becomes necessary to paste the labels on the side, instead of on the back. this label is to contain the section and shelf-mark of the book, marked by plain figures, according to the plan of classification adopted. when well done, it is an inexpressible comfort to any librarian, because it shows at one glance of the eye, and without opening the book at all, just where in the wide range of the miscellaneous library it is to go. thus the book service of every day is incalculably aided, and the books are both found when sought on the shelves, and replaced there, with no trouble of opening them. this outer-label system once established, in strict correspondence with the catalogue, the only part of the librarian's work remaining to be prescribed in this field, concerns the kind of label to be selected, and the method of affixing them to the books. the adhesive gummed labels furnished by the library bureau, or those manufactured by the dennison company of new york have the requisite qualities for practical use. they may be purchased in sheets, or cut apart, as convenient handling may dictate. having first written in ink in plain figures, as large as the labels will bear, the proper locality marks, take a label moistener (a hollow tube filled with water, provided with a bit of sponge at the end and sold by stationers) and wet the label throughout its surface, then fix it on the back of the book, on the smooth part of the binding near the lower end, and with a piece of paper (not the fingers) press it down firmly to its place by repeated rubbings. if thoroughly done, the labels will not peel off nor curl up at the edges for a long time. under much usage of the volumes, however, they must occasionally be renewed. when the books being prepared for the shelves have all been duly collated, labelled and stamped, processes which should precede cataloguing them, they are next ready for the cataloguer. his functions having been elsewhere described, it need only be said that the books when catalogued and handed over to the reviser, (or whoever is to scrutinize the titles and assign them their proper places in the library classification) are to have the shelf-marks of the card-titles written on the inside labels, as well as upon the outside. when this is done, the title-cards can be withdrawn and alphabeted in the catalogue drawers. next, all the books thus catalogued, labelled, and supposed to be ready for the shelves, should be examined with reference to three points: st. whether any of the volumes need re-lettering. nd. whether any of them require re-binding. rd. if any of the bindings are in need of repair. in any lot of books purchased or presented, are almost always to be found some that are wrongly or imperfectly lettered on the back. before these are ready for the shelves, they should be carefully gone through with, and all errors or shortcomings corrected. it is needful to send to the binder st. all books which lack the name of the author on the back. this should be stamped by the binder at the head, if there is room--if not, in the middle panel on the back of the book. nd. all books lettered with mis-spelled words. rd. all volumes in sets, embracing several distinct works--to have the name of each book in the contents plainly stamped on the outside. th. all books wholly without titles on the back, of which many are published--the title being frequently given on the side only, or in the interior alone. th. all periodicals having the volume on the back, without the year, to have the year lettered; and periodicals having the year, but not the volume, are to have the number of the volume added. if these things, all essential to good management and prompt library service, are not done before the books go to their shelves, the chances are that they will not be done at all. the second requisite to be attended to is to examine whether any of the volumes catalogued require to be bound or re-bound. in any lot of books of considerable extent, there will always be some (especially if from auction sales) dilapidated and shaken, so as to unfit them for use. there will be others so soiled in the bindings or the edges as to be positively shabby, and they should be re-bound to render them presentable. the third point demanding attention is to see what volumes need repair. it very often happens that books otherwise pretty well bound have torn corners, or rubbed or shop-worn backs, or shabby marbled paper frayed at the sides, or some other defect, which may be cured by mending or furbishing up, without re-binding. this a skilful binder is always competent to take in charge; and as in the other cases, it should have attention immediately upon the acquisition of the books. all books coming into a library which contain autographs, book-plates of former owners, coats of arms, presentation inscriptions from the author, monograms, or other distinguishing features, should preserve them as of interest to the present or the future. and all printed paper covers should be carefully preserved by binding them inside the new cover which the book receives, thus preserving authentic evidence of the form in which the book was first issued to the public, and often its original price. in like manner, when a cloth-bound book comes to re-binding, its side and back covers may be bound in at the end of the book, as showing the style in which it was originally issued, frequently displaying much artistic beauty. whoever receives back any books which have been out in circulation, whether it be the librarian or assistant, must examine each volume, to see if it is in apparent good order. if it is found (as frequently happens) that it is shaky and loose, or if leaves are ready to drop out, or if the cover is nearly off, it should never be allowed to go back to the shelves, but laid aside for re-binding or repair with the next lot sent to the binder. only prompt vigilance on this point, combined with the requirement of speedy return by the binder, will save the loss or injury beyond repair of many books. it will also save the patrons of the library from the frequent inconvenience of having to do without books, which should be on the shelves for their use. how frequent this sending of books to repair should be, cannot be settled by any arbitrary rule; but it would be wise, in the interest of all, to do it as often as two or three dozen damaged books are accumulated. if you find other injury to a book returned, than the natural wear and tear that the library must assume, if a book, for example, is blotched with ink, or soiled with grease, or has been so far wet as to be badly stained in the leaves, or if it is found torn in any part on a hasty inspection, or if a plate or a map is missing, or the binding is violently broken (as sometimes happens) then the damage should be borne by the reader, and not by the library. this will sometimes require the purchase of a fresh copy of the book, which no fair-minded reader can object to pay, who is favored with the privileges of free enjoyment of the treasures of a public library. indeed, it will be found in the majority of cases that honest readers themselves call attention to such injuries as books have accidentally received while in their possession, with voluntary offer to make good the damage. all unbound or paper covered volumes should be reserved from the shelves, and not supplied to readers until bound. this rule may be relaxed (as there is almost no rule without some valid exception) in the case of a popular new book, issued only in paper covers, if it is desired to give an opportunity of early perusal to readers frequenting the library. but such books should not be permitted to circulate, as they would soon be worn to pieces by handling. only books dressed in a substantial covering are fit to be loaned out of any library. in preparing for the bindery any new books, or old ones to be re-bound or repaired, lists should be made of any convenient number set apart for the purpose, prompt return should be required, and all should be checked off on the list when returned. no shelf in a well-regulated library should be unprovided with book-supports, in order to prevent the volumes from sagging and straining by falling against one another, in a long row of books. numerous different devices are in the market for this purpose, from the solid brick to the light sheet-iron support; but it is important to protect the end of every row from strain on the bindings, and the cost of book supports is indefinitely less than that of the re-binding entailed by neglecting to use them. some libraries of circulation make it a rule to cover all their books with paper or thin muslin covers, before they are placed on the shelves for use. this method has its advantages and its drawbacks. it doubtless protects the bindings from soiling, and where books circulate widely and long, no one who has seen how foul with dirt they become, can doubt the expediency of at least trying the experiment of clean covers. they should be of the firmest thin but tough manila paper, and it is claimed that twenty renewals of clean paper covers actually cost less than one re-binding. on the other hand, it is not to be denied that books thus covered look shabby, monotonous, and uninteresting. in the library used for reference and reading only, without circulation, covers are quite out of place. book-plates having been briefly referred to above, a few words as to their styles and uses may here be pertinent. the name "book-plate" is a clumsy and misleading title, suggesting to the uninitiated the illustrations or plates which embellish the text of a book. the name _ex libris_, two latin words used for book-plate in all european languages, is clearer, but still not exact, as a definition of the thing, signifying simply "out of books." a book-plate is the owner's or the library's distinctive mark of ownership, pasted upon the inside cover, whether it be a simple name-label, or an elaborately engraved heraldic or pictorial device. the earliest known book-plates date back to the fifteenth century, and are of german origin, though english plates are known as early as . in france, specimens appear for the first time between and . foreign book-plates are, as a rule, heraldic in design, as are also the early american plates, representing the coat of arms or family crest of the owner of the books, with a motto of some kind. the fashion of collecting these owners' marks, as such, irrespective of the books containing them, is a recent and very possibly a passing mania. still, there is something of interest in early american plates, and in those used by distinguished men, aside from the collector's fad. some of the first american engravers showed their skill in these designs, and a signed and dated plate engraved by nathaniel hurd, for example, of boston, is of some historic value as an example of early american art. he engraved many plates about the middle of the last century, and died in . paul revere, who was an engraver, designed and executed some few plates, which are rare, and highly prized, more for his name than for his skill, for, as generally known, he was a noted patriot of the revolutionary period, belonging by his acts to the heroic age of american history. a book of george washington's containing his book-plate has an added interest, though the plate itself is an armorial design, not at all well executed. its motto is "_exitus acta probat_"--the event justifies the deed. from its rarity and the high price it commands, it has probably been the only american book-plate ever counterfeited. at an auction sale of books in washington in , this counterfeit plate had been placed in many books to give a fictitious value, but the fraud was discovered and announced by the present writer, just before the books were sold. yet the sale was attended by many attracted to bid upon books said to have been owned by washington, and among them the late dr. w. f. poole, then librarian of the boston athenaeum, which possesses most of the library authentically known to have been at mount vernon. john adams and john quincy adams used book-plates, and james monroe and john tyler each had a plain name-label. these are all of our presidents known to have used them, except general garfield, who had a printed book-plate of simple design, with the motto "_inter folia fructus_." eleven of the signers of the declaration of independence are known to have had these signs of gentle birth--for in the early years of the american colonies, it was only the families of aristocratic connection and scholarly tastes who indulged in what may be termed a superfluous luxury. the plates used among the southern settlers were generally ordered from england, and not at all american. the northern plates were more frequently of native design and execution, and therefore of much greater value and interest, though far inferior in style of workmanship and elaboration of ornament to the best european ones. the ordinary library label is also a book-plate, and some of the early libraries and small collections have elaborate designs. the early harvard college library plate was a large and fine piece of engraving by hurd. the harvard library had some few of this fine engraved label printed in red ink, and placed in the rarer books of the library--as a reminder that the works containing the rubricated book-plates were not to be drawn out by students. the learned bibliophile and librarian of florence, magliabecchi, who died in , devised for his library of thirty thousand volumes, which he bequeathed to the grand duke of tuscany, a book-plate representing his own profile on a medal surrounded with books and oak boughs, with the inscription--"antonius magliabecchius florentinus." some book-plates embody designs of great beauty. the late george bancroft's, engraved on copper, represented a winged cherub (from raphael) gazing sun-ward, holding a tablet with the inscription "_eis phaos_," toward the light. some french book-plates aim at humor or caricature. one familiar example represents an old book-worm mounted on a tall ladder in a library, profoundly absorbed in reading, and utterly unconscious that the room beneath him is on fire. to those who ask of what possible utility it can be to cultivate so unfruitful a pursuit as the devising or the collecting of book-plates, it may be pertinent to state the claim made in behalf of the amateurs of this art, by a connoisseur, namely, "book-plates foster the study of art, history, genealogy, and human character." on this theory, we may add, the coat of arms or family crest teaches heraldry; the mottoes or inscriptions chosen cultivate the taste for language and sententious literature; the engraving appeals to the sense of the artistic; the names of early or ancient families who are often thus commemorated teach biography, history, or genealogy; while the great variety of sentiments selected for the plates illustrate the character and taste of those selecting them. on the other hand, it must be said that the coat of arms fails to indicate individual taste or genius, and might better be supplanted by original and characteristic designs, especially such as relate to books, libraries, and learning. chapter . the enemies of books. we have seen in former chapters how the books of a library are acquired, how they are prepared for the shelves, or for use, and how they are or should be bound. let us now consider the important questions which involve the care, the protection, and the preservation of the books. every librarian or book owner should be something more than a custodian of the books in his collection. he should also exercise perpetual vigilance with regard to their safety and condition. the books of every library are beset by dangers and by enemies. some of these are open and palpable; others are secret, illusive, little suspected, and liable to come unlooked for and without warning. some of these enemies are impersonal and immaterial, but none the less deadly; others are personally human in form, but most inhuman in their careless and brutal treatment of books. how far and how fatally the books of many libraries have been injured by these ever active and persistent enemies can never be adequately told. but we may point out what the several dangers are which beset them, and how far the watchful care of the librarian and his assistants may fore-stall or prevent them. one of the foremost of the inanimate enemies of books is dust. in some libraries the atmosphere is dust-laden, to a degree which seems incredible until you witness its results in the deposits upon books, which soil your fingers, and contaminate the air you breathe, as you brush or blow it away. peculiarly liable to dust are library rooms located in populous towns, or in business streets, and built close to the avenues of traffic. here, the dust is driven in at the windows and doors by every breeze that blows. it is an omnipresent evil, that cannot be escaped or very largely remedied. as preventive measures, care should be taken not to build libraries too near the street, but to have ample front and side yards to isolate the books as far as may be consistent with convenient access. where the library is already located immediately on the street, a subscription for sprinkling the thoroughfare with water, the year round, would be true economy. in some cities, the evils of street dust are supplemented by the mischiefs of coal smoke, to an aggravated degree. wherever soft coal is burned as the principal fuel, a black, fuliginous substance goes floating through the air, and soils every thing it touches. it penetrates into houses and public buildings, often intensified by their own interior use of the same generator of dirt, and covers the books of the library with its foul deposits. you may see, in the public libraries of some western cities, how this perpetual curse of coal smoke has penetrated the leaves of all the books, resisting all efforts to keep it out, and slowly but surely deteriorating both paper and bindings. here, preventive measures are impossible, unless some device for consuming the coal smoke of chimneys and factories were made compulsory, or the evil somewhat mitigated by using a less dangerous fuel within the library. but, aside from these afflictions of dust, in its most aggravated form, every library and every room in any building is subject to its persistent visitations. wherever carpets or rugs cover the floors, there dust has an assured abiding-place, and it is diffused throughout the apartment in impalpable clouds, at every sweeping of the floors. hence it would be wise to adopt in public libraries a floor-covering like linoleum, or some substance other than woolen, which would be measurably free from dust, while soft enough to deaden the sound of feet upon the floors. even with this preventive precaution, there will always be dust enough, and too much for comfort, or for the health of the books. only a thorough dusting, carried on if possible daily, can prevent an accumulation of dust, at once deleterious to the durability of the books, and to the comfort both of librarians and readers. dust is an insidious foe, stealing on its march silently and unobserved, yet, however impalpable in the atmosphere of a library, it will settle upon the tops of every shelf of books, it will penetrate their inner leaves, it will lodge upon the bindings, soiling books and readers, and constituting a perpetual annoyance. it is not enough to dust the tops of the books periodically; a more full and radical remedy is required, to render library books presentable. at no long intervals, there should be a thorough library cleaning, as drastic and complete as the house-cleaning which neat housewives institute twice a year, with such wholesome results. the books are to be taken down from the shelves, and subjected to a shaking-up process, which will remove more of the dust they have absorbed than any brush can reach. to do this effectually, take them, if of moderate thickness, by the half-dozen at a time from the shelf, hold them loosely on a table, their fronts downward, backs uppermost, then with a hand at either side of the little pile, strike them smartly together a few times, until the dust, which will fly from them in a very palpable cloud, ceases to fall. then lay them on their ends, with the tops uppermost on the table, and repeat the concussion in that posture, when you will eliminate a fresh crop of dust, though not so thick as the first. after this, let each volume of the lot be brushed over at the sides and back with a soft (never stiff) brush, or else with a piece of cotton or woolen cloth, and so restored clean to the shelves. while this thorough method of cleansing will take time and pains, it will pay in the long run. it will not eliminate all the dust (which in a large collection is a physical impossibility) but it will reduce it to a minimum. faithfully carried out, as a periodical supplement to a daily dusting of the books as they stand on the shelves, it will immensely relieve the librarian or book-owner, who can then, (and then only) feel that he has done his whole duty by his books. another dangerous enemy of the library book is damp, already briefly referred to. books kept in any basement room, or near any wall, absorb moisture with avidity; both paper and bindings becoming mildewed, and often covered with blue mould. if long left in this perilous condition, sure destruction follows; the glue or paste which fastens the cover softens, the leather loses its tenacity, and the leaves slowly rot, until the worthless volumes smell to heaven. books thus injured may be partially recovered, before the advanced stage of decomposition, by removal to a dry atmosphere, and by taking the volumes apart, drying the sheets, and rebinding--a very expensive, but necessary remedy, provided the books are deemed worth preserving. but a true remedy is the preventive one. no library should ever be kept, even in part, in a basement story, nor should any books ever be located near the wall of a building. all walls absorb, retain, and give out moisture, and are dangerous and oft-times fatal neighbors to books. let the shelves be located at right angles to every wall--with the end nearest to it at least twelve to eighteen inches removed, and the danger will be obviated. a third enemy of the book is heat. most libraries are unfortunately over-heated,--sometimes from defective means of controlling the temperature, and sometimes from carelessness or want of thought in the attendant. a high temperature is very destructive to books. it warps their covers, so that volumes unprotected by their fellows, or by a book support, tend to curl up, and stay warped until they become a nuisance. it also injures the paper of the volumes by over-heating, and weakening the tenacity of the leaves held together by the glue on the back, besides drying to an extreme the leather, till it cracks or crumbles under the heat. the upper shelves or galleries of any library are most seriously affected by over-heating, because the natural law causes the heat to rise toward the ceiling. if you put your hand on some books occupying the highest places in some library rooms, in mid-winter, when the fires are kept at their maximum, the heat of the volume will almost burn your fingers. if these books were sentient beings, and could speak, would they not say--"our sufferings are intolerable?" the remedy is of course a preventive one; never to suffer the library to become over-heated, and to have proper ventilation on every floor, communicating with the air outside. seventy degrees fahrenheit is a safe and proper maximum temperature for books and librarian. the mischief arising from gas exhalations is another serious source of danger to books. in many well-lighted libraries, the heat itself from the numerous gas-burners is sufficient to injure them, and there is besides a sulphuric acid escaping from the coal-gas fluid, in combustion, which is most deleterious to bindings. the only remedy appears to be, where libraries are open evenings, to furnish them with electric lights. this improved mode of illumination is now so perfected, and so widely diffused, that it may be reckoned a positive boon to public libraries, in saving their books from one of their worst and most destructive enemies. another of the potent enemies of books is fire. i refer, not to over-heating the rooms they occupy, but to the risk they continually run, in most libraries, of total destruction. the chronicle of burned libraries would make a long and melancholy record, on which there is no space here to enter. irreparable losses of manuscripts and early printed books, and precious volumes printed in small editions, have arisen from men's neglect of building our book-repositories fire-proof. in all libraries not provided with iron or steel shelves, there is perpetual danger. books do not burn easily, unless surrounded with combustibles, but these are furnished in nearly all libraries, by surrounding the books on three sides with wooden shelves, which need only to be ignited at any point to put the whole collection in a blaze. then follows the usual abortive endeavor to save the library by the aid of fire engines, which flood the building, until the water spoils nearly all which the fire does not consume. the incalculable losses which the cause of learning has sustained from the burning of public, university and ecclesiastical libraries are far greater than the cost which the provision of fire-proof repositories would have entailed. of late years, there has been a partial reform in library construction. some have been built fire-proof throughout, with only stone, brick, concrete and iron material, even to the floors and window casings. many more have had iron shelves and iron stacks to hold the shelves constructed, and there are now several competing manufacturers of these invaluable safeguards to books. the first library interior constructed wholly of iron was that of the library of congress at washington, which had been twice consumed, first when the capitol was burned by the british army in , and again in , through a defective flue, when only , volumes were saved from the flames, out of a total of , . the example of iron construction has been slowly followed, until now the large cities have most of their newly-constructed libraries approximately fire-proof, although many are exposed to fire in parts, owing to a niggardly and false economy. the lesson that what is worth doing at all is worth doing well, and that every neglect of security brings sooner or later irreparable loss, is very slowly learned. whole hecatombs of books have been sacrificed to the spirit of commercial greed, blind or short-sighted enough not to see that secure protection to public property, though costlier at first, is far cheaper in the end. you may speak of insurance against library losses by fire, but what insurance could restore the rare and costly shakespearean treasures of the birmingham free library, or the unique and priceless manuscripts that went up in flames in the city library of strasburg, in , or the many precious and irreplaceable manuscript archives of so many of our states, burned in the conflagration of their capitols? one would think that the civilized world had had lessons enough, ever since that seventh century burning of the alexandrian library by the caliph omar, with that famous but apocryphal rhetorical dilemma, put in his mouth perhaps by some nimble-witted reporter:--"if these books agree with the koran, they are useless, and should be burned: if not, they are pernicious, and must not be spared." but the heedless world goes carelessly on, deaf to the voice of reason, and the lessons of history, amid the holocausts of literature and the wreck of blazing libraries, uttering loud newspaper wails at each new instance of destruction, forgotten in a week, then cheerfully renewing the business of building libraries that invite the flames. nothing here said should be interpreted as advice not to insure any library, in all cases where it is not provided with iron cases for the books, or a fire-proof building. on the contrary, the menaced destruction of books or manuscripts that cannot be replaced should lead to securing means in advance for replacing all the rest in case of loss by fire. and the experience of the past points the wisdom of locating every library in an isolated building, where risks of fire from other buildings are reduced to a minimum, instead of in a block whose buildings (as in most commercial structures) are lined with wood. you will perhaps attach but small importance at first thought, to the next insidious foe to library books that i shall name--that is, wetting by rain. yet most buildings leak at the roof, sometime, and some old buildings are subject to leaks all the time. even under the roof of the capitol at washington, at every melting of a heavy snow-fall, and on occasion of violent and protracted rains, there have been leaks pouring down water into the libraries located in the old part of the building. each of these saturated and injured its quota of books, some of which could only be restored to available use by re-binding, and even then the leaves were left water-stained in part. see to it that your library roof is water-tight, or the contents of your library will be constantly exposed to damage against which there is no insurance. another besetting danger to the books of our libraries arises from insects and vermin. these animated foes appear chiefly in the form of book-worms, cockroaches, and mice. the first-named is rare in american libraries, though its ravages have extended far and wide among the old european ones. this minute little insect, whose scientific name is the _anobium paniceum_, bores through the leaves of old volumes, making sometimes holes which deface and mutilate the text. all our public libraries, doubtless, have on their shelves old folios in vellum or leather bindings, which present upon opening the disagreeable vision of leaves eaten through (usually before they crossed the sea) by these pernicious little borers. it is comforting to add, that i have never known of any book-worm in the congressional library--except the human variety, which is frequently in evidence. georgetown college library once sent me a specimen of the insect, which was found alive in one of its volumes, but the united testimony of librarians is that this pest is rare in the united states. as to remedies, the preventive one of sprinkling the shelves twice a year with a mixture of powdered camphor and snuff, or the vapor of benzine or carbolic acid, or other repellant chemicals, is resorted to abroad, but i have not heard of any similar practice in this country. i may remark in passing, that the term "book-worm" is a misnomer, since it is not a worm at all, but an insect. a more serious insect menace is the cockroach, a hungry, unclean little beast, which frequents a good many libraries, and devours bindings (especially fresh ones) to get at the paste or savory parts of the binding. the remedy for this evil, when once found to exist, is to scatter the most effective roach poison that can be found, which may arrest further ravages. another insect pest is the croton bug, (_blatta germanica_) which eats into cloth bindings to get at the sizing or albumen. the late eminent entomologist, dr. c. v. riley, pronounced them the worst pest known in libraries, but observed that they do not attack books bound in leather, and confine their ravages to the outside of cloth-bound books, never troubling the leaves. the remedy prescribed is a powder in which pyrethrum is the chief ingredient, sprinkled about the shelves. among the rodents, mice are apt to be busy and mischievous infesters of libraries. they are extremely fond of paste, and being in a chronic state of hunger, they watch opportunities of getting at any library receptacle of it. they will gnaw any fresh binding, whether of cloth, board, or leather, to get at the coveted food. they will also gnaw some books, and even pamphlets, without any apparent temptation of a succulent nature. a good library cat or a series of mouse traps, skilfully baited, may rid you of this evil. the injury that comes to library books from insufficient care in protecting them on the shelves is great and incalculable. there are to be seen in every library, volumes all twisted out of shape by the sagging or leaning, to which the end-book is subjected, and which is often shared by all its neighbors on the shelf. the inevitable result is that the book is not only spoiled in its good looks, but (which is vastly more important) it is injured in its binding, which is strained and weakened just in proportion to the length of time in which it is subjected to such risks. the plain remedy is to take care that every volume is supported upright upon the shelf, in some way. when the shelf is full, the books will support one another. but when volumes are withdrawn, or when a shelf is only partly filled with books, the unsupported volumes tumble by force of gravitation, and those next them sag and lean, or fall like a row of bricks, pushing one another over. no shelf of books can safely be left in this condition. some one of the numerous book-supports that have been contrived should be always ready, to hold up the volumes which are liable to lean and fall. we come now to the active human enemies of books, and these are unhappily found among some of the readers who frequent our libraries. these abuses are manifold and far-reaching. most of them are committed through ignorance, and can be corrected by the courteous but firm interposition of the librarian, instructing the delinquent how to treat a book in hand. others are wilful and unpardonable offences against property rights and public morals, even if not made penal offences by law. one of these is book mutilation, very widely practiced, but rarely detected until the mischief is done, and the culprit gone. i have found whole pages torn out of translations, in the volumes of bohn's classical library, doubtless by students wanting the translated text as a "crib" in their study of the original tongue. some readers will watch their opportunity, and mutilate a book by cutting out plates or a map, to please their fancy, or perhaps to make up a defective copy of the same work. those consulting bound files of newspapers will ruthlessly despoil them by cutting out articles or correspondence, or advertisements, and carrying off the stolen extracts, to save themselves the trouble of copying. others, bolder still, if not more unscrupulous, will deliberately carry off a library book under a coat, or in a pocket, perhaps signing a false name to a reader's ticket to hide the theft, or escape detection. against these scandalous practices, there is no absolute safeguard in any library. even where a police watch is kept, thefts are perpetrated, and in most libraries where no watchman is employed, the librarian and his assistants are commonly far too busy to exercise close scrutiny of all readers. as one safeguard, no rare or specially costly book should be entrusted to a reader except under the immediate eye of the librarian or assistant. ordinary books can be replaced if carried off, and by watching the rarities, risk of theft can be reduced to a minimum. when newspapers are given out to readers, it should always be in a part of the library where those using them are conscious of a surveillance exercised over their movements. the penalty of neglecting this may at any time be the mutilation of an important file, and it must be remembered that such damage, once done, cannot be repaired. you can replace a mutilated book usually by buying a new one, but a newspaper can almost never be replaced. even in the city of boston, the librarian of the athenaeum library records the disgraceful fact, that "the temptation to avoid the trouble of copying, by cutting out articles from newspapers is too strong for the honesty of a considerable part of the public." and it was recorded by the custodian of a public library in albany that all the plates were missing from certain books, that the poetry and best illustrations were cut from magazines before they had lain on the tables a week, and strange to say, that many of these depredations were committed by women. it is a difficult problem how to prevent such outrages to decency, and such irreparable depredations on the books in our libraries as destroy, in great part, their value. a posted notice, reminding readers that mutilation of books or periodicals is a penal offence, will warn off many, if not all, from such acts of vandalism. if there is no law punishing the offence, agitate until you get one. expose through the press such thefts and mutilations as are discovered. interest readers whom you know, to be watchful of those you do not know, and to quietly report any observed violation of rules. when a culprit is detected, push the case to prompt legal hearing, and let the penalty of the law be enforced. let it be known that the public property in books is too sacred a right to be violated with impunity. inculcate by every means and on every opportunity the sentiment that readers who freely benefit by the books supplied should themselves feel personal concern in their cleanliness and preservation, and that the interest of the library is really the interest of all. a daily abuse practiced by many readers in libraries, though without wrongful intent, is the piling of one book on top of another while open. this is inexcusable ill-treatment, for it subjects the open book thus burdened, to injury, besides probably soiling its pages with dust. especially harmful is such careless treatment of large volumes of newspapers or illustrated works. careless use of ink is the cause of much injury to library books. as a rule (to which the very fewest exceptions should be made) pencils only should be allowed to readers, who must forego the use of ink, with the inevitable risk of dropping it upon the book to its irreparable injury. the use of ink in fountain pens is less objectionable. tracing of maps or plates should not be allowed, unless with a soft pencil. under no circumstances should tracing with a pen or other hard instrument be permitted to any reader. failure to enforce this rule may result in ruin of valuable engravings or maps. there is one class of books which demand special and watchful care at the hands of the librarian. these are the fine illustrated works, mostly in large folio, which include the engravings of the art galleries of europe, and many other specially rare or costly publications. these should be carefully shelved in cases where they can lie on their sides, not placed upright, as in some collections, to lean over, and, sooner or later to break their backs, and necessitate rebinding. when supplied to readers, there should not be more than one volume at a time given out, to avoid the risk, always threatening, of careless handling or of opening one volume on top of another that is open. there should also be a printed notice or label affixed to the side cover of every illustrated work reading, "never touch an engraving," or an equivalent warning. this will go far, by its plain reminder, to prevent soiling the pages by the fingers, a practice which rapidly deteriorates fine books, and if long continued, renders them unfit to be exhibited to clean-handed readers. all plates should be stamped at some portion of their surface (it is often done on the back) with the embossing stamp of the library, as a means of identification if abstracted from the volume to which they belong. such books should, moreover, be consulted on a large table, or better an adjustable stand (to avoid frequent lifting or shifting of the position of the volume when inspecting the plates) and always under the eye of the librarian or an assistant not far removed. these precautions will insure far more careful treatment, and will result in handing down to a new generation of readers many a rare and precious volume, which would otherwise be destroyed or irretrievably injured in a very few years. the library treasures which cost so much to bring together should never be permitted to suffer from want of care to preserve them. all writing upon the margins of books should be prohibited--other than simple pencil corrections of the text, as to an erroneous date, name, etc., which corrections of errors should not only be permitted, but welcomed, upon due verification. the marking of passages for copying or citation should be tolerated only upon the rigid condition that every user of the book rubs out his own pencil marks before returning it. i have seen lawyers and others thoughtless enough of right and wrong to mark long passages in pen and ink in books belonging to public libraries. this is a practice to be sternly repressed, even at the cost of denying further library privileges to the offender. turning down leaves in a book to keep the place is one of the easily besetting sins of too many readers. those who thus dogs-ear a volume should be taught that the vile practice weakens and wears out the leaves thus folded down, and makes the book a more easy prey to dust and disintegration. however busy i may be, i instinctively turn back every turned-down leaf i notice in any book, before using it, or handing it to another. a good safe-guard would be to provide a supply of little narrow strips of paper, in the ticket boxes at the library tables to serve as the book-markers so frequently needed by readers. for this purpose, no thick or smooth calendered paper should be used, which falls out of any loosely bound book too readily--but a thin soft paper un-sized, which will be apt to retain its place. i have lost valuable time (which i shall never see again) in trying to find the pages marked for me by a searcher who had thoughtlessly inserted bits of card-board as markers--which kept falling out by their own weight. the book-marks should be at least two inches long, and not more than half an inch wide; and rough edges are better than smooth ones, for they will adhere better to the head of the volume where placed. better still it is, to provide paper book-marks forked at the lower end by slitting, then doubled so that the mark will go on both sides of the leaf at once. this is the only sure safe-guard against these bits of paper falling out, and thus losing the place. never put cards, or letters, or documents, or any solid substance into a book. it weakens the binding, and if continued, often breaks the back. the fact that most of the injuries to which books are exposed are unintentional injuries does not alter the fact that they are none the less injuries to be guarded against. wilful perpetration of the many abuses referred to may be rare, but the unconscious perpetrators should be instructed how to use books by a vigilant librarian. and they who have thus been taught to be careful of the books in a public library will learn to be more careful of their own, which is a great step in the education of any one. it ought not to be needful to charge any one never to wet the finger to turn over the leaves of a book--a childish habit, akin to running out the tongue when writing, or moving the lips when reading to one's self. the only proper way to turn the leaf is at the upper right-hand corner, and the index-finger of the right hand will always be found competent to that duty. still less should it be needful to insist upon the importance to every reader of books, of coming to their perusal clean-handed. when you reflect that nine-tenths of the soiling and spoiling which books undergo comes from the dirty hands of many readers, this becomes a vital point. fouquet, a learned book collector of france, used to keep a pile of white gloves in the ante-room of his library, and no visitor was allowed to cross the threshold, or to handle a book without putting on a pair, lest he should soil the precious volumes with naked hands. such a refinement of care to keep books immaculate is not to be expected in this age of the world; and yet, a librarian who respects his calling is often tempted to wish that there were some means of compelling people to be more careful about books than they are. it ought not ever to be true that an enemy to the welfare of library books is found in the librarian himself, or in any of his assistants, yet there have been those employed in the care of books who have abused their positions and the volumes entrusted to their charge, not only by neglect of care, (which is a negative injury) but by positive and continual ill treatment. this may arise from ignorance of better methods, but ignorance is a poor excuse for one credited with the intelligence of a librarian. in some libraries, books are treated with positive indignity, and are permanently injured by tightly wedging them together. never crowd books by main force into shelves too short or too small for them. it strains the backs, and seriously injures the bindings. every book should slip easily past its fellows on the shelf. if a volume is too tall to go in its place, it should be relegated to lower shelves for larger books, never letting its head be crowded against the shelf above it. one should never pull books out from the shelf by their head-bands, or by pulling at the binding, but place the finger firmly on the top of the book, next to the binding, and press down while drawing out the volume. from failure to observe this simple precaution, you will find in all libraries multitudes of torn or broken bindings at the top--a wholly needless defacement and waste. never permit a book to be turned down on its face to keep the place. this easily besetting habit weakens the book, and frequently soils its leaves by contact with a dusty table. for the same reason, one volume should not be placed within the leaves of another to keep the place where a book-mark of paper, so easily supplied, should always be used. books should not be turned down on the fore-edges or fronts on the library tables, as practiced in most book-stores, in order to better display the stock. the same habit prevails in many libraries, from careless inattention. when necessary, in order to better read the titles, they should never be left long in such position. this treatment weakens the back infallibly, and if long continued breaks it. librarians, of all persons in the world, should learn, and should lead others to learn, never to treat a book with indignity, and how truly the life of a book depends upon proper treatment, as well as that of an animated being. these things, and others of my suggestions, may seem trifles to some; but to those who consider how much success in life depends upon attention to what are called trifles--nay, how much both human taste and human happiness are promoted by care regarding trifles, they will not appear unimportant. the existence of schools to teach library science, and of manuals devoted to similar laudable aims, is an auspicious omen of the new reign of refined taste in those nobler arts of life which connect themselves with literature, and are to be hailed as authentic evidences of the onward progress of civilization. chapter . the restoration and reclamation of books. we are now to consider carefully the restoration and the reclamation of the books of a library, whether public or private. nothing can be more important than the means of restoring or reclaiming library books that are lost or injured, since every such restoration will save the funds of the library or collector from replacing them with fresh or newly bought copies, and will enable it to furnish its stores with as many new books as the money thus saved represents. the cardinal thing to be kept always in view is a wise economy of means. an every-day prudence is the price of successful administration. a management which permits any of the enemies of books to destroy or damage them, thereby wasting the substance of the library without repair, is a fatally defective management, which should be changed as soon as possible. this consideration assumes added importance when it is remembered that the means of nearly all our libraries are very limited and inadequate to the drafts upon them, year by year. a great many libraries are compelled to let their books needing rebinding accumulate, from the mere want of money to pay for reclothing the nearly worn-out volumes, thus depriving the readers for a considerable time, of the use of many coveted books. and even with those which have large means, i have never yet heard of a library that had enough, either to satisfy the eager desire of the librarian to fill up deficiencies, or to meet fully the manifold wants of readers. so much the more important, then, is it to husband every dollar that can be saved, to keep the books in such good condition that they will not need frequent rebinding, and to reduce to a minimum all the evils which beset them, menacing their safety, or injuring their condition. to attain these great ends, the librarian who is qualified for his responsible position, must be both a preserver and a restorer of books. if not personally able to go through the mechanical processes which belong to the art of restoration, (and this is the case in all libraries except the smallest) he should at least learn all about them, so as to be able to teach them thoroughly and intelligently to an assistant. it is frequently made an excuse for the soiled and slovenly and even torn condition of books and bindings in a much used public library, that neither the librarian nor his aids have any time to look into the condition of the books, much less to repair any of the numerous damages they sustain. but it should be remembered that in most libraries, even the busiest, there are seasons of the day, or periods of very stormy weather, when the frequentation of readers is quite small. those times should always be seized upon to take hold of volumes which have had to be laid aside as damaged, in the hurry of business. to arrest such damages at the threshold is the duty and the interest of the library. a torn leaf can be quickly mended, a slightly broken binding can be pasted or glued, turned-down leaves can be restored where they belong, a plate or map that is started can be fastened in, by devoting a few minutes at the proper time, and with the proper appliances ready at hand. multitudes of volumes can be so treated in the course of the year, thus saving the heavy cost of rebinding. it is the proverbial stitch in time that saves nine. never wait, in such matters, for the leisure day that never comes, but seize the golden moment as it flies, when no reader is interrupting you, and clear off at least one of the little jobs that are awaiting your attention. no one who does not know how to use the odd moments is qualified for the duties of a librarian. i have seen, in country libraries, the librarian and his lady assistant absorbed in reading newspapers, with no other readers in the room. this is a use of valuable time never to be indulged in during library hours. if they had given those moments to proper care of the books under their charge, their shelves would not have been found filled with neglected volumes, many of which had been plainly badly treated and injured, but not beyond reclamation by timely and provident care. it is amazing how any one can expect long employment as a librarian, who takes no interest in the condition of the books under his charge. the way to build up a library, and to establish the reputation of a librarian at the same time, is to devote every energy and intelligence to the great work in hand. convince the library directors, by incessant care of the condition of the books, that you are not only a fit, but an indispensable custodian of them. let them see your methods of preserving and restoring, and they will be induced to give you every facility of which you stand in need. show them how the cost of binding or re-buying many books can be saved by timely repair within the library, and then ask for another assistant to be always employed on such work at very moderate cost. library directors and trustees are commonly intensely practical men, and quick to see into the heart of good management. they do not want a librarian who has a great reputation as a linguist, or an educator, or a book-worm, but one who knows and cares about making their funds go as far as possible, and can show them how he has saved by restoring old books, enough money to pay for a great many new ones. nothing is more common in public lending libraries than to find torn leaves in some of the books. if the leaf is simply broken, without being absolutely detached, or if part is torn off, and remains on hand, the volume may be restored by a very simple process. keep always at hand in some drawer, a few sheets of thin "onion-skin" paper, or the transparent adhesive paper supplied by the library bureau. paste this on either side of the torn leaf, seeing that it laps over all the points of juncture where the tear occurred, and that the fitting of the text or reading matter is complete and perfect. the paper being transparent, there will be no difficulty in reading the torn page through it. this little piece of restoration should always be effected immediately on discovery, both that the torn piece or fragment may be saved, and that the volume may be restored to use. in case of absolute loss of a leaf or a part of a page, there are only three remedies known to me. . the book may be condemned as imperfect, and a new copy purchased. . the missing part may be restored from a perfect copy of the same work, by copying the portions of the text wanting, and inserting them where they belong. this can be done with a pen, and the written deficiency neatly inserted, in fac-simile of the type, or in ordinary script hand; or else the part wanting may be photographed or heliotyped by the best modern process from a duplicate copy of the book. . if the book is of very recent issue, the publishers may furnish a signature or sheet which would make good the deficiency, from the "imperfections" left in the bindery, after making up the edition of the work. in most cases, the last named means of replacement will not be found available. the first, or buying a fresh copy, may entail a greater expense than the library authorities would deem proper at the time, and it might be preferred to continue the book in use, with a slight imperfection. the second method, more or less troublesome according to circumstances, or the extent of the matter to be copied is sometimes the most economical. of course, it is subject to the drawback of not being, when done, a _bona fide_ or genuine copy of the book as published. this diminishes the commercial value of even the rarest book, although so fully restored as to text that the reader has it all before him, so that it supplies every requisite of a perfect copy for the purposes of a public library, or a private owner who is not a connoisseur in books. when the corners of a book are found to be broken (as often happens by falling to the floor or severe handling) the book may be restored by a treatment which will give it new leather corners. with paste or glue well rubbed in, apply thick brown paper on the corners, which, when dry, will be as hard as desired, and ready to receive the leather. then the sides may be covered with marbled paper or cloth, and the volume is restored. when the back of a book becomes loose, the remedy is to take it out of the cover, re-sew it, and glue it firmly into the former back. this will of course render the back of the volume more rigid, but, in compensation, it will be more durable. in these cases of loose or broken backs, the study should be to save the leather cover and the boards or sides of the book intact, so as to diminish by more than one-half the cost of repair. as the volume cannot be restored to a solid and safe condition without being re-sewed, it may be carefully separated from the cover by cutting the cords or bands at their junction with the boards, then slowly stripping the book out of its cover, little by little, and treating the sheets when separated as already indicated in the chapter on rebinding. one of the most common defacements which library books undergo is marking up the margins with comments or references in pencil. of course no thoughtful reader would be guilty of this practice, but thoughtless readers are often in the majority, and the books they read or fancy that they read, get such silly commentaries on the margins as these: "beautiful," "very sad," "perfectly splendid," "i think becky is horrid," or, "this book ends badly." such vile practices or defacements are not always traceable to the true offender, especially in a circulating library, where the hours are so busy as to prevent the librarian from looking through the volumes as they come in from the readers. but if detected, as they may be after a few trials of suspected parties, by giving them out books known to be clean and free from pencil marks when issued to them, the reader should be required always to rub out his own marks, as a wholesome object-lesson for the future. the same course should be pursued with any reader detected in scribbling on the margin of any book which is being read within the library. incorrigible cases, amounting to malicious marking up of books, should be visited by severe penalties--even to the denial of further library privileges to the offender. not long ago, i bought at an auction sale a copy of the first edition of tennyson's "in memoriam," which was found on receipt to be defaced by marking dozens of verses in the margin with black lines drawn along them, absolutely with pen and ink! the owner of that book, who did the ruthless deed, never reflected that it might fall into hands where his indelible folly would be sharply denounced. the librarian or assistant librarian who will instinctively rub out all pencil marks observed in a library book deserves well of his countrymen. it is time well spent. the writing on book-margins is so common a practice, and so destructive of the comfort and satisfaction which readers of taste should find in their perusal of books, that no legitimate means of arresting it or repairing it should be neglected. in a public library in massachusetts, a young woman of eighteen who was detected as having marked a library copy of "middlemarch" with gushing effusions, was required to read the statute prescribing fine and imprisonment for such offenses, with very tearful effect, and undoubtedly with a wholesome and permanent improvement in her relations to books and libraries. in some libraries, a warning notice is posted up like this: "readers finding a book injured or defaced, are required to report it at once to the librarian, otherwise they will be held responsible for the damage done." this rule, while its object is highly commendable, may lead in practice to injustice to some readers. so long as the reader uses the book inside of the library walls, he should of course report such defects as meet his eye in reading, whether missing pages, plates, or maps, or serious internal soiling, torn leaves, etc. but in the case of drawing out books for home reading, the rule might embarrass any reader, however well disposed, if too strictly construed. a reader finding any serious defect in a library volume used at home, should simply place a mark or slip in the proper place with the word "damaged," or "defective" written on it. then, on returning the book to the library, his simple statement of finding it damaged or defective when he came to read it should be accepted by the librarian as exonerating him from blame for any damage. and this gives point to the importance of examining every book, at least by cursory inspection, before it is handed out for use. a volume can be run through quickly by a practiced hand, so as to show in a moment or two any leaves started or torn, or, usually, any other important injury. if any such is found, the volume should under no circumstances be given out, but at once subjected to repair or restoration. this degree of care will not only save the books of the library from rapid deterioration, but will also save the feelings of readers, who might be anxious lest they be unjustly charged with damaging while in their hands. the treatment of their imperfect books (which tend perpetually to accumulate) is very different in different libraries. some libraries, where funds are ample enough to enable them to do it, condemn any book that has so much as a sentence torn out, and replace it on the shelves with a new copy. the imperfect volumes are sold for waste paper, or put into some sale of duplicate books, marked as imperfect, with note of the damage upon a slip inserted at the proper place in the book, and also in the catalogue, if sold at auction or in a printed list of duplicates offered by the library. this notice of what imperfection exists is necessary, so that no incautious purchaser may think that he is securing a perfect copy of the work. other libraries not blessed with means to pursue this course, do as best they can afford, supplying what is deficient when possible without much cost of time or money, or else continuing the damaged book in use "with all its imperfections on its head." the loss of a single plate does not destroy the value of the book for readers, however to be regretted as diminishing the satisfaction to be derived from the volume. and one can sometimes pardon the loss of a part of a page in a mutilated book, especially when he is made aware of the fact that the library which welcomes him to the free enjoyment of its treasures cannot well afford to buy another. it is disheartening to read, in an annual report of a public library of circulation in massachusetts, that many of its popular books are so soiled and defaced, after a few readings, as to be unfit for further service; that books of poetry are despoiled by the scissors to save trouble of copying verses wanted; that plates are often abstracted, and that many magazines "seem to be taken from the library for no other reason than that private scrap-books may be enriched or restless children amused." the only remedy suggested is to examine each book before again giving it out, and, if returned defaced, to hold the borrower responsible. the art of cleaning books that are stained or dirty, is a matter not widely known, and in this country there are few experts at it. some of these keep closely guarded the methods they use to cleanse a book. comparatively few libraries avail themselves of the practice of washing their soiled volumes, as the process is too expensive for most of them, and so they are accustomed to let the library books remain in use and re-issue them again and again, until they become so filthy as to be quite unfit to be seen--much less handled by any reader. but there are often valuable or rare works which have sustained interior injury, and which it is desired to restore to a clean condition. the best method is to take the book apart as the first step. when separated into sheets, those leaves which are merely dirty should be placed in a bath composed of about four ounces of chloride of lime, dissolved in a quart of water. they should soak until all stains are removed, and the paper is restored to its proper color. then the pages should be washed in cold water--running water is preferable--and allowed to soak about six hours. this removes all traces of the lime, which would otherwise tend to rot or injure the book. after this, the sheets are to be "sized," _i. e._, dipped in a bath of size and water, and laid out to dry. this process gives firmness and consistency to the paper, which would otherwise remain too soft to handle. the sheets should be pressed a few hours between glazed paste-boards, as used in printing offices. a cheap and simple size for this purpose may be made by mixing white gelatine with water, and this may be kept in a bottle, so as to be always conveniently at hand. the art of restoring and rendering fit for handling books and rare early pamphlets by sizing all the leaves is in constant use in europe. by this means, and by piecing out margins, the most rotten paper, ready to drop apart in turning the leaves, may be restored to use, if not quite to its pristine condition. ink-spots or mildew stains may be wholly removed, when freshly made, by applying a solution of oxalic or citric acid, and then washing the leaf with a wet sponge. it is more effectual to follow the bath of oxalic acid by applying a solution of one part hydrochloric acid to six parts of water, after which bathe in cold water, and dry slowly. or an infusion of hypochlorite of potash in twice its volume of water may be used instead of the preceding. if a leather-bound book has grease on its cover, it can be removed by scraping french chalk or magnesia over the place, and ironing with a warm (not hot) iron. a simpler method is to apply benzine to the grease spots, (which dissolves the fatty material) and then dry the spot quickly with a fine cloth. this operation may be repeated, if not effectual at the first trial. the same method of applying benzine to oily spots upon plates or engravings, will remove the stains. ink-stains may also be taken off from the leather covers of books bound in calf or morocco by the use of oxalic acid. care should be taken first to try the acid on a piece of similar leather or on a discarded book of the same color. if the leather is discolored after removing the black spot, one may apply, after taking out the traces of oxalic acid by some alkali, a coloring matter similar to the tint of the leather. spots or stains of grease or oil are often found in books. they may be wholly removed by applying carbonate of magnesia on both sides of the leaf stained, backed by paper, and pressing with a hot iron, after which the sheets should be washed and left under pressure over night. another method is to dilute spirits of salts with five times its bulk of water, then let the stained leaves lie in the liquid four minutes, after which they are to be washed. still another method is to make a mixture of one pound of soap, half a pound of clay and two ounces of lime, dissolved in water to a proper consistency; apply it to the spots; fifteen minutes after, dip the leaf in a bath of warm water for half an hour, after which dry and press until smooth. stains left by mud on the leaves of a book (a not uncommon fate of volumes falling in a wet street) can be removed thus: spread over the spots a jelly composed of white soap and water, letting it remain about half an hour. then dip the leaf in clear water, and remove the soap with a fine sponge dipped in warm water; all the mud stains will disappear at the same time. to remove the last traces of the soap, dip a second time in clear water, place the leaf between two sheets of blotting paper, and dry slowly in a cool and shady place. the same process, of washing in soap and water, will remove what are doubtless the most common of all the soilings that library books undergo, namely, the soil that comes from the dirty hands and fingers of readers. it is sometimes necessary to color the sheets that have been washed white, so as to correspond in tint with the rest of the volume, which has not needed that treatment. an infusion of cheap tobacco leaves, or a bath of brown stout will effect this. in all these methods of removing soil from the pages of books, it is absolutely necessary to give attention to thorough washing after the chemicals are used. otherwise there will remain an element of destruction which will sooner or later spoil the book, to restore which so much pains may have been expended. and one can readily learn how to restore a valuable book by these methods. he should, however, first practice on the restoration of a volume of little worth--and venture upon the treatment of a precious volume only after practice has made him an expert. to restore a fresher look to volumes whose bindings are much rubbed or "scuffed" as it is sometimes called, one may spread over their surface a little wet starch pretty thick, with a little alum added, applied with an old leather glove. with this the back of the book, and the sides and edges of the boards should be smartly rubbed, after which, with a fine rag rub off the thicker part of the starch, and the book will present a much brighter appearance, besides being rid of dust and soil. there will remain on the volume a very slight deposit of gelatine or gluten; before it dries completely, the palm of the hand may be passed over it at all points, and the leather, which may have assumed a dull color from the starch, will resume a bright brown or other tint. if this fails to appear, a bit of flannel, impregnated with a few drops of varnish, should be rubbed over the leather, and when nearly dry, rub with a white rag slightly touched with olive oil, and a brilliant appearance will be given to the binding. when leaves are started, or a signature becomes loose in any volume, it should be at once withdrawn from circulation, or the loss of an important part of the book may result. the remedy commonly resorted to, of patching up the book by pasting in the loose leaves, is a mere makeshift which will not last. the cause of a loose signature is generally to be found in a broken thread in the sewing, and the only permanent cure is to take the book out of its cover, and re-sew it, when it may usually be re-inserted in the same binding. this is for cloth-bound books. when bound in leather, it is best to take out the loose sheet, "overcast" it, that is, secure all the leaves by sewing, then carefully lay some paste along the outer edge or back of the sheet, insert the sheet in its place, pressing it firmly with a paper knife along the middle of the sheet, and the volume will be restored ready for use after a few days drying under weight. on occasion of a fire next to the mercantile library rooms in philadelphia, in , great damage was done, from water thrown by the fire-engines, to many thousands of books. the library authorities tried various methods of restoring the volumes, and among others, drying them in ovens was resorted to. this was found, however, to dry the books so rapidly, that the bindings cracked, and in many cases came off, while many volumes were much warped. the most advantageous method that was adopted was to prepare a large number of frames on which many wires were strung horizontally across a large room. the wet books (many of which were soaked through) were suspended on these wires in such a way as to dry them by degrees, the temperature of the room being raised considerably by furnace heat. the condition in which the books were found after the wetting varied greatly. nearly all that were printed on soft paper were wet through, while those next to them printed on thick paper, and with solid leather bindings, were scarcely damaged at all. the water stains constituted the most serious injury to the volumes, and multitudes of fine books that were wet will always bear the marks of the stain. some of the more costly books were restored by taking them apart, washing them thoroughly, then placing them in a heated press, and drying them, so that the water-stains were removed. all the books, however different the degree of damage from the water, retained their legibility, and were put to the same uses in the library as before the fire occurred. none were burned, the actual fire being confined to the neighboring buildings of the block in the midst of which the library was unfortunately located. the whole number of volumes damaged was about , , and the insurance, which was assessed by referees at the amount of $ , , would nearly have replaced the books by new ones. many of the volumes had to be rebound as the damage by wetting the glue and paste which are such important elements in binding securely, led to the falling apart of the covers. there are multitudes of books restored by some one of the processes which have been ingeniously contrived to make an old book as good as new, or an imperfect volume perfect. the art of reproducing in facsimile, by mere manual dexterity with the pen, letters, words, and whole pages, has been carried to a high degree of perfection, notably in london. a celebrated book restorer named harris, gained a great reputation among book lovers and librarians by his consummate skill in the reproduction of the text of black-letter rarities and early-printed books of every kind. to such perfection did he carry the art of imitating an original that in many cases one could not distinguish the original from the imitation, and even experts have announced a harris facsimile in a shakespeare folio to be the printed original. the art has even been extended to engravings, with such success that the famous droeshout portrait of shakespeare, which illustrates the title-page of the first folio of , has been multiplied in pen-made facsimile, so as to deceive the most careful scrutiny. this nice and difficult art is not widely pursued in this country, though there are some experts among new york and philadelphia book-binders, who practice it. the british museum library has a corps of workers engaged in the restoration both of books and of manuscripts (as well as engravings) who are men of the highest training and skill. the process is necessarily quite expensive, because of the time required and of the small number of competing artists in this field. it is chiefly confined to the restoration of imperfect copies of early printed and rare books, which are so frequently found in imperfect condition, often wanting title-pages or the final leaves, or parts of pages in any part of the volume. so costly, indeed, is this skilful hand-restoration of imperfect books, that it has been a great boon to the collectors of libraries and rare works, to see the arts of photography so developed in recent years, as to reproduce with almost exact fidelity printed matter of any kind from the pages of books. the cost of such facsimiles of course varies with the locality, the work, the skill, or the competition involved. but it may be said in general that the average cost of book-page facsimiles by photographic process need not exceed one dollar a page. an entire edition of the encyclopaedia britannica has been printed from plates made in replica from photographs of the original text of the edinburgh edition. the reproduction in this case can hardly be commended, as it is trying to the eyes to read, when compared with the original, presenting a somewhat blurred and irregular aspect to the eyes. it is very difficult to lay down rules which shall be effective in checking the abuse of books which compels exercise of the means of restoration. writing upon margins (already referred to) may sometimes be checked by putting a printed slip in every library book bearing the warning--"never write in a library book." to this may be added--"never turn down leaves," an equally important injunction. indeed, a whole list of "dont's" might be inserted, but for the chance that too many warnings might operate to warn off a reader from absorbing any of them. thus-- "don't soil any book don't write on margins don't turn down leaves don't lay a book on its face open don't wet fingers to turn leaves don't fail to use the book-mark don't read with unclean hands." as a loose slip is liable to fall out, some such reminder should be pasted into the fly-leaf of every book, next the book-plate. a self-respecting reader will generally heed such hints, which a moment's reflection will teach him are meant to preserve the library book clean and presentable for his own use, as well as for that of others. but there will always be some rude, boorish people who will persist in their brutal and destructive treatment of books, in the face of whatever warnings. how to deal with such unwelcome persons is an ever-present problem with the librarian. if sustained by the other library authorities, a really effectual remedy is to deny the further use of the library to any offender clearly proven to have subjected library books to damage while in his hands. some librarians go so far as to post the names of such offenders in the library hall, stating that they are denied the privileges of the library by the authorities, for mutilating books. in any case, great care must be taken to have the clearest proof, before proceeding to fasten the offense upon a particular individual. this involves, where the injury is not committed in the presence of any library officer, so as to be observed, but has been done while the book was drawn out, an examination of each volume before giving it out. if this rule were to be observed as to all, it would entail an expense that few libraries could afford. in a large circulating library in a city, it might require the entire time of two assistants to collate the books before re-issuing them. the circumstances of each library must determine how to deal with this matter. probably the majority will limit the close examination of books before giving them out, to cases where there is reason to suspect wilful continued soiling, scribbling, or dog's-earing. a few such cases once detected and dealt with will have a most salutary restraining influence upon others, especially if re-enforced by frequent and judicious paragraphs in the local press, setting forth the offense and the remedy. but all in vain will be the endeavor to abate these defacements and consequent waste of the library books, unless it is enforced by a positive law, with penal provisions, to punish offenders who mutilate or deface books that are public property. a good model of such a statute is the following, slightly abridged as to verbiage, from an act of congress, of which we procured the enactment in the year : "any person who steals, defaces, injures, mutilates, tears, or destroys any book, pamphlet, work of art, or manuscript, belonging to any public library, or to the united states, in the district of columbia, shall be fined ten dollars to one hundred dollars, and punished by imprisonment from one to twelve months, for every such offense." this act will be found in the united states statutes at large, vol. , p. . it would be well if the term "periodical" were added to the list of objects to be protected, to avoid all risk of a failure to punish the mutilation of newspapers and magazines, by pleading technical points, of which lawyers are prone to avail themselves in aiding offenders to escape conviction. it will be observed, that the word "deface," employed in this statute, actually covers the marking of margins by any reader, all such marking constituting a defacement within the meaning of the law. while the great multitude of readers who frequent our public libraries are honest and trustworthy, there are always some who are conspicuously the reverse. it is rarely safe in a large public library to admit readers to the shelves, without the company or the surveillance of an attendant. and it is not alone the uncultivated reader who cannot be trusted; the experience of librarians is almost uniform to the effect that literary men, and special scholars, as well as the collectors of rare books, are among those who watch the opportunity to purloin what they wish to save themselves the cost of buying. sometimes, you may find your most valuable work on coins mutilated by the abstraction of a plate, carried off by some student of numismatics. sometimes, you may discover a fine picture or portrait abstracted from a book by some lover of art or collector of portraits. again, you may be horrified by finding a whole sermon torn out of a volume of theology by a theological student or even a clergyman. all these things have happened, and are liable to happen again. no library is safe that is not closely watched and guarded. in the astor library a literary man actually tore out sixty pages of the _revue de paris_, and added to the theft the fraud of plagiarism, by translating from the stolen leaves an article which he sold to appleton's journal as an original production! in this case, the culprit, though detected, could not be punished, the law of new york requiring the posting in the library of the statute prohibiting mutilation or other injury to the books, and this posting had not been done. the law has since been amended, to make the penalties absolute and unconditional. in the astor library, over six hundred volumes were discovered to have been mutilated, including art works, patent office reports, magazines, newspapers, and even encyclopaedias. the books stolen from that library had been many, until several exposures and punishment of thieves inspired a wholesome dread of a similar fate. at a meeting of the american library association, one member inquired whether there was any effectual way to prevent the abstraction of books. he was answered by another librarian (from cincinnati) who replied that he knew of only one effectual method, and that was to keep a man standing over each book with a club. of course this was a humorous paradox, not to be taken literally, but it points a moral. seriously, however, the evil may be greatly curtailed, (though we may be hopeless of absolute prevention) by adopting the precautions already referred to. in the library of the british museum, a great library of reference, from which no book is permitted to be taken under any circumstances, the evil of mutilation was much reduced by prosecuting and posting the offenders publicly. after a few years, the obnoxious practice had so far ceased, that the placards, having an unpleasant aspect, were taken down. but on renewal of such depredations and defacements of books by readers, the placards were renewed, and some of the mutilated books, suitably labelled, were posted in the great reading room before the eyes of all. the authorities of the british museum are convinced of the salutary effects of such warnings, though books are sometimes stolen or mutilated under the liberal management which leaves several thousand volumes open for reference, without tickets. the late dr. wm. f. poole, the chicago librarian, recorded his experience in dealing with some clergymen, who, said he, seem to have as regards books, an imperfect appreciation of the laws of _meum_ and _tuum_. he had found ministers more remiss in returning books than any other class of men. he would by no means reflect on a noble and sacred profession by charging the derelictions of a few upon the many. but he had had unpleasant experiences with men of that profession, who had absolutely purloined books from the public library, removed the book-plates and library stamp, and covered the volumes with paper carefully pasted down inside of the covers. a librarian in massachusetts testified that it was common experience that clergymen and professional men gave the most trouble. second-hand book-dealers in boston had found a judge of the court purloining rare pamphlets, and ministers making away with pamphlet sermons under their coats. without insisting here upon any such extenuations of such practices as the prevalence of kleptomania, it has been made abundantly manifest that theft and mutilation of books are sufficiently common to demonstrate the weakness of human nature, and the necessity of every safeguard which public libraries can provide against such abuses of their treasures. a boston librarian stated that the thieves or mutilators of books included school-boys, clerks, students, teachers, soldiers, physicians, lawyers, clergymen, etc. in only one case was the crime committed through want or suffering. yet, though the offenders had been proven guilty in every instance, only two cases were known in which the penalty of the law had been enforced. does not this bespeak laxity of public morals in boston in regard to such abuses of library property? the union theological seminary at new york recorded its experience with ministers and theological students, to the effect that its library had lost more than a thousand volumes, taken and not returned. this of course included what were charged out, but could not be recovered. a librarian in auburn, n. y., returning from vacation, found that the american architect, an important illustrated weekly, had been mutilated in seven different volumes, and that pages in all had been stolen. fortunately, she was able to trace the reader who had been using the work, and succeeded in recovering the abstracted plates. the offender was prosecuted to conviction, and had to pay a fine of fifty dollars. it often happens that books which disappear mysteriously from a public library re-appear quite as mysteriously. those taking them, finding that the rules do not allow certain books to leave the library, make a law unto themselves, carry off the book wanted, keep it until read, and then return it surreptitiously, by replacing it on some shelf or table, when no one is looking. this is where no intention of stealing the book exists, and the borrower wilfully makes his own convenience override the library regulations, in the belief that he will not be found out. the buffalo young men's library reported in one year eighteen illustrated works on the fine arts, reserved from being taken out by its by-laws, as disappearing for weeks, but brought back in this underhanded manner. in other cases of such return, it is likely that the purpose was to keep the book, but that conscience or better thoughts, or fear of detection prevailed, and secured its return. some instances where leniency has been exercised to save book thieves from penalties may be instructive. one man who had carried off and sold two volumes from the astor library was traced and arrested, when he pleaded that absolute want had driven him to the act. he had a wife ill and starving at his home, and this on investigation proving true, he was pardoned and saved further misery. in another case, a poor german had stolen a volume of the classics which he pawned for a small sum to get bread for himself, being long out of work, and in a condition bordering closely upon starvation. he was released, the book reclaimed, and the offender turned over to the agencies of public charity. a librarian of new york gave it as his experience that some ministers are not to be trusted any more than other people. some of them like to write their opinions on the margins of the books. he found one of the library books written on in thirty pages, recognized the hand-writing, and wrote to the reverend gentleman asking an interview. he came, admitted the fact, and said that his notes made the book more valuable. this ingenious excuse did not satisfy the librarian, who said, "others do not think so, sir; so if you will get us a new book, you may keep the more valuable one." he soon brought in a new copy, and the matter ended. at the new york mercantile library, a young lady, amply able to buy all the books she could want, was discovered going out of the library with one book in her hand which she was entitled to, it being charged, and with five others hidden under her cloak, without permission. mr. melvil dewey has truly said that it is very hard to tell a library thief at sight. well-dressed, gentlemanly, even sanctimonious looking men are among them, and the wife of a well-known college professor, detected in purloining books, begged so hard not to be exposed, that she was reluctantly pardoned, and even restored to library privileges. a prominent lawyer of brooklyn, of distinguished appearance and fine manners, did not steal books, but his specialty was magazines and newspapers, which he carried off frequently. being caught at it one day, and accused by the librarian, he put on an air of dignity, declared he was insulted, and walked out. the librarian found the periodical he had taken thrown down in the entry, and he never after frequented that library. it is curious and instructive to know the experience of some libraries regarding the theft or mutilation of books. thus, in the public library of woburn, mass., a case of mutilation occurred by the cutting out of a picture from "drake's historic fields and mansions of middlesex county." on discovery of the loss, a reward of $ was offered for information leading to detection of the culprit. this was published in the town paper, and an article was printed calling attention to these library thefts and abuses, followed by citing the state law making such depredations a penal offense. within a week the missing plate came back to the librarian through the mail--anonymously of course, the person who had abstracted it finding that it was rather an unsafe picture to keep or exhibit, and so choosing to make his best policy honesty, though rather tardy in coming to that wise conclusion. this experience, and others here cited, may serve as a hint what course to pursue under similar circumstances, in the reclamation of library books. in the library of the london institution, continuous thefts of valuable editions of the classics had occurred. putting a detective in the library, a young man of suspicious demeanor was soon identified as the thief, and was followed and arrested in the very act of selling a library book. he proved to be a young man of good family, education and previous good character; but the library had suffered such losses from his depredations, that no mercy was shown, and he received and underwent the sentence to two months imprisonment. it may be added as an instance of methods availed of in london to trace missing books, that the librarian, knowing from the vacancies on the shelves what books had been abstracted, printed a list of them, sent it to every second-hand book-dealer in london, at the same time supplying it to the police, who circulate daily a list of missing property among all the pawn-brokers' shops in the city, and recovered all the books within twenty-four hours. the mercantile library of philadelphia missed a number of valuable books from its shelves, and on a watch being set, a physician in the most respectable rank in society was detected as the purloiner, and more than fifty volumes recovered from him. a library at lancaster, pa., reported the almost incredible incident of a thief having hidden under his coat, and carried off, a webster's unabridged dictionary! in most cases of detected theft or mutilation of books, strong appeals are made by the culprit or his friends to save exposure by public prosecution. these are commonly, in the case of persons in very respectable circumstances in life, not so much to avoid paying fines imposed by law as to avoid the disgrace attached to publicity, and the consequent damage done to the character of the individual. it is probably true that in a majority of cases, such influences have been strong enough to overcome the determination of the librarian or library authorities to let the law take its course. now, while it must be admitted that there is no rule without some valid exception that may be made, it is nevertheless to be insisted upon that due protection to public property in libraries demands the enforcement of the laws enacted to that end. the consequence of leniency to the majority of book thieves would be not only an indirect encouragement to the culprits to continue their depredations, but it would also lead to a lax and dangerous notion of the obligations of readers, and the sacredness of such property, in the public mind. enforcement of the penalties of wrong-doing, on the other hand, tends unquestionably to deter others, both by the fear of publicity which must follow detection, and by terror of the penalty which is or may be imprisonment for a considerable term, besides the imposing of a fine. at the worcester, mass., public library, a young man of twenty-two was detected in stealing a book, obliged to confess, and prosecuted. much pressure was brought to bear by his family and friends, very respectable people, to save him from the penalty. the court, however, imposed a fine of thirty dollars, and it being represented that his relatives would have to pay the amount, though innocent parties, the judge suspended the sentence until the young man should pay it in instalments from his own earnings, one of the family giving bail. the valuable lesson was in this way not lost, either to the offender or to the community; the law was enforced, and the young man perhaps saved from a life of wrong-doing, while if he had been let off scot-free, in deference to the influence exerted to that end, he might have gone from bad to worse. at the pratt institute free library in brooklyn, books had been disappearing from the reference department at intervals of about a week, and a watch was instituted. after some weeks' fruitless watching, a young man who came frequently to consult books was singled out as the probable offender, and the eyes of the library staff were centered upon him. the janitor watched his movements for some days, from a concealed post of observation, as the young man walked back and forth between the book stacks, and one day caught him in the act of slipping a book into his pocket, and arrested him as he was leaving the building. he had stolen a dozen books from the library, all but three of which were recovered. he claimed to be a theological student, and that he had taken the books merely for the purposes of study. much sympathy was expressed for him by people who believed that this was his motive, and that it was some partial atonement for his offense. the grief of his relatives at his disgrace was intense. the court sentenced him to eight years in the penitentiary, but suspended the sentence in view of the fact that it was a first offense, by a youth of twenty-one years. he was put under police surveillance for his good behavior (equivalent to being paroled) but the sentence becomes active upon any further transgression of the law on his part. it may be gathered from these many cases of library depredations, that they are very common, that perpetual vigilance is the price of safety, that punishment in nearly all cases is wiser than pardon, and that the few exceptions made should be mostly confined to offenders who steal books under desperate necessity or actual want. chapter . pamphlet literature. what is a pamphlet? is a question which is by no means capable of being scientifically answered. yet, to the librarian dealing continually with a mass of pamphlets, books, and periodicals, it becomes important to define somewhere, the boundary line between the pamphlet and the book. the dictionaries will not aid us, for they all call the pamphlet "a few sheets of printed paper stitched together, but not bound." suppose (as often happens) that you bind your pamphlet, does it then cease to be a pamphlet, and become a book? again, most pamphlets now published are not stitched at all, but stabbed and wired to fasten the leaves together. the origin of the word "pamphlet," is in great doubt. a plausible derivation is from two french words, "_paume_," and "_feuillet_," literally a hand-leaf; and another derives the word from a corruption of latin--"_papyrus_," paper, into _pampilus_, or _panfletus_, whence pamphlet. the word is in shakespeare: "comest thou with deep premeditated lines, with written pamphlets studiously devised?" but we also find "pamphlets and bookys," in a work printed by caxton in , a hundred years before shakespeare. whatever the origin, the common acceptation of the word is plain, signifying a little book, though where the pamphlet ends, and the book begins, is uncertain. the rule of the british museum library calls every printed publication of one hundred pages or less, a pamphlet. this is arbitrary, and so would any other rule be. as that library binds its pamphlets separately, and counts them in its aggregate of volumes, the reason for any distinction in the matter is not plain. some of the government libraries in europe are greatly overrated numerically by reckoning pamphlets as volumes. thus, the royal library at munich, in bavaria, has been ranked fourth among the libraries of the world, claiming over a million volumes, but as it reckons every university thesis, or discussion of some special topic by candidates for degrees, as a volume, and has perhaps , of this prolific class of publications, it is actually not so large as some american libraries, which count their pamphlets as distinct from books in their returns. the pamphlet, or thin book, or tract (as some prefer to call it) is reckoned by some librarians as a nuisance, and by others as a treasure. that it forms rather a troublesome asset in the wealth of a library cannot be doubted. pamphlets taken singly, will not stand upon the shelves; they will curl up, become dogs-eared, accumulate dust, and get in the way of the books. if kept in piles, as is most frequent, it is very hard to get at any one that is wanted in the mass. then it is objected to them, that the majority of them are worthless, that they cost altogether too much money, and time, and pains, to catalogue them, and that they are useless if not catalogued; that if kept bound, they cost the library a sum out of all proportion to their value; that they accumulate so rapidly (much faster, in fact, than books) as to outrun the means at the disposal of any library to deal with them; in short, that they cost more than they come to, if bound, and if unbound, they vex the soul of the librarian day by day. this is one side of the pamphlet question; and it may be candidly admitted, that in most libraries, the accumulation of uncatalogued and unbound pamphlets is one of the chief among those arrears which form the skeleton in the closet of the librarian. but there is another side to the matter. it is always possible to divide your pamphlets into two classes--the important, and the insignificant. some of them have great historical, or economic, or intellectual value; others are as nearly worthless as it is possible for any printed matter to be. why should you treat a pamphlet upon pears's soap, or a quack medicine, or advertising the columbia bicycle, with the same attention which you would naturally give to an essay on international politics by gladstone, or a review of the cuban question by a prominent spaniard, or a tract on chinese immigration by minister seward, or the pamphlet genealogy of an american family? take out of the mass of pamphlets, as they come in, what appear to you the more valuable, or the more liable to be called for; catalogue and bind them, or file them away, according to the use which they are likely to have: relegate the rest, assorted always by subject-matters or classes, to marked piles, or to pamphlet cases, according to your means; and the problem is approximately solved. to condemn any pamphlet to "innocuous desuetude," or to permanent banishment from among the intellectual stores of a library, merely because it is innocent of a stiff cover, is to despoil the temple of learning and reject the good things of providence. what great and influential publications have appeared in the world in the guise of pamphlets! milton's immortal "areopagitica, or plea for unlicenced printing," was a pamphlet of only forty pages; webster's speech for the union, in reply to hayne, was a pamphlet; every play of shakespeare, that was printed in his life-time, was a pamphlet; charles sumner's discourse on "the true grandeur of nations" was a pamphlet; the "crisis" and "common sense" of thomas paine, which fired the american heart in the revolution, were pamphlets. strike out of literature, ancient and modern, what was first published in pamphlets, and you would leave it the poorer and weaker to an incalculable degree. pamphlets are not only vehicles of thought and opinion, and propagandists of new ideas; they are often also store-houses of facts, repositories of history, annals of biography, records of genealogy, treasuries of statistics, chronicles of invention and discovery. they sometimes throw an unexpected light upon obscure questions where all books are silent. being published for the most part upon some subject that was interesting the public mind when written, they reflect, as in a mirror, the social, political, and religious spirit and life of the time. as much as newspapers, they illustrate the civilization (or want of it) of an epoch, and multitudes of them, preserved in great libraries, exhibit this at those early periods when no newspapers existed as vehicles of public opinion. many of the government libraries of europe have been buying up for many years past, the rare, early-printed pamphlets of their respective countries, paying enormous prices for what, a century ago, they would have slighted, even as a gift. when thomas carlyle undertook to write the life of oliver cromwell, and to resurrect from the dust-bins of two centuries, the letters and speeches of the great protector, he found his richest quarry in a collection of pamphlets in the british museum library. an indefatigable patriot and bookseller, named thomason, had carefully gathered and kept every pamphlet, book, periodical, or broadside that appeared from the british press, during the whole time from a. d. to , the period of the interregnum in the english monarchy, represented by cromwell and the commonwealth. this vast collection, numbering over , pamphlets, bound in , volumes, after escaping the perils of fire, and of both hostile armies, was finally purchased by the king, and afterward presented to the british museum library. its completeness is one great source of its value, furnishing, as it does, to the historical student of that exceedingly interesting revolution, the most precious memorials of the spirit of the times, many of which have been utterly lost, except the single copy preserved in this collection. several great european libraries number as many pamphlets as books in their collections. the printed catalogue of the british museum library is widely sought by historical students, because of the enormous amount of pamphlet literature it contains, that is described nowhere else. and the librarian of the boston athenaeum said that some readers found the great interest in his catalogue of that collection lay in its early american pamphlets. as another instance of the value to the historical stores of a public library of this ephemeral literature, it may be noted that the great collection of printed matter, mostly of a fugitive character, relating to the french revolutionary period, gathered by the late m. de la bedoyère, amounted to , volumes and pamphlets. fifty years of the life of the wealthy and enthusiastic collector, besides a very large sum of money, were spent in amassing this collection. with an avidity almost incredible, he ransacked every book-store, quay, and private shelf that might contribute a fresh morsel to his stores; and when paris was exhausted, had his agents and purveyors busy in executing his orders all over europe. rival collectors, and particularly m. deschiens, who had been a contemporary in the revolution, and had laid aside everything that appeared in his day, only contributed at their decease, to swell the precious stores of m. de la bedoyère. this vast collection, so precious for the history of france at its most memorable period, contained several thousands of volumes of newspapers and ephemeral journals, and was acquired in the year , for the national library of france, where it will ever remain a monument to the enlightened and far-sighted spirit of its projector. in like manner, the late peter force, mayor of washington city, and historiographer of the "american archives," devoted forty years to amassing an extensive collection of _americana_, or books, pamphlets, newspapers, manuscripts, and maps, relating to the discovery, history, topography, natural history, and biography of america. he carried off at auction sales, from all competitors, six great collections of early american pamphlets, formed by ebenezer hazard, william duane, oliver wolcott, etc., representing the copious literature of all schools of political opinion. he sedulously laid aside and preserved every pamphlet that appeared at the capital or elsewhere, on which he could lay hands, and his rich historical collection, purchased by the government in , thirty-three years ago, now forms an invaluable portion of the congressional library. of the multitudinous literature of pamphlets it is not necessary to speak at length. suffice it to say that the library which neglects the acquisition and proper preservation and binding of these publications is far behind its duty, both to those of its own generation, and to those which are to follow. the pamphlet literature of every period often furnishes the most precious material to illustrate the history and development of that period. the new ideas, the critical sagacity, the political controversies, the mechanical and industrial development, the religious thought, and the social character of many epochs, find their best expression in the pamphlets that swarmed from the press while those agencies were operating. the fact that multitudes of these productions are anonymous, does not detract from their value as materials for students. pamphlets, from their peculiar style of publication, and the difficulty of preserving them, tend to disappear more quickly than any class of publications except newspapers, and broad-sides, and hand-bills. they are far less likely to be preserved in the hands of private holders than even reviews and magazines. it is the common experience of librarians that a pamphlet is far more difficult to procure than a book. multitudes of pamphlets are annually lost to the world, from the want of any preserving hand to gather them and deposit them permanently in some library. so much the more important is it that the custodians of all our public libraries should form as complete collections as possible of all pamphlets, at least, that appear in their own city or neighborhood. how to do this is a problem not unattended with difficulty. pamphlets are rarely furnished for sale in the same manner as books, and when they are, book-sellers treat them with such indignity that they are commonly thrust aside as waste paper, almost as soon as they have appeared from the press. if all the writers of pamphlets would take pains to present them to the public libraries of the country, and especially to those in their own neighborhood, they would at once enrich these collections, and provide for the perpetuity of their own thought. a vigilant librarian should invite and collect from private libraries all the pamphlets which their owners will part with. it would also be a wise practice to engage the printing-offices where these fugitive leaves of literature are put in type, to lay aside one copy of each for the library making the collection. our local libraries should each and all make it a settled object to preserve not only full sets of the reports of all societies, corporations, charity organizations, churches, railroads, etc., in their own neighborhood, but all catalogues of educational institutions, all sermons or memorial addresses, and in short, every fugitive publication which helps to a knowledge of the people or the region in which the library is situated. the binding of pamphlets is a mooted point in all libraries. while the british museum and the library of congress treat the pamphlets as a book, binding all separately, this is deemed in some quarters too vexatious and troublesome, as well as needlessly expensive. it must be considered, however, that the crowding together of a heterogenous mass of a dozen or twenty pamphlets, by different authors, and on various subjects, into a single cover, is just as objectionable as binding books on unrelated subjects together. much time is consumed in finding the pamphlet wanted, among the dozen or more that precede or follow it, and, if valuable or much sought-for pamphlets are thus bound, many readers may be kept waiting for some of them, while one reader engrosses the volume containing all. besides, if separately bound, a single pamphlet can be far more easily replaced in case of loss than can a whole volume of them. pamphlets may be lightly bound in paste-board, stitched, with cloth backs, at a small cost; and the compensating advantage of being able to classify them like books upon the shelves, should weigh materially in the decision of the question. if many are bound together, they should invariably be assorted into classes, and those only on the same general topic should be embraced in the same cover. the long series of annual reports of societies and institutions, corporations, annual catalogues, etc., need not be bound separately, but should be bound in chronological series, with five to ten years in a volume, according to thickness. so may several pamphlets, by the same writer, if preferred, be bound together. libraries which acquire many bound volumes of pamphlets should divide them into series, and number them throughout with strict reference to the catalogue. there will thus be accumulated a constantly increasing series of theological, political, agricultural, medical, educational, scientific, and other pamphlets, while the remaining mass, which cannot be thus classified, may be designated in a consecutive series of volumes, as "miscellaneous pamphlets." when catalogued, the title-page or beginning of each pamphlet in the volume, should be marked by a thin slip of unsized paper, projected above the top of the book, to facilitate quick reference in finding each one without turning many leaves to get at the titles. in all cases, the contents of each volume of pamphlets should be briefed in numerical order upon the fly-leaf of the volume, and its corresponding number, or sequence in the volumes written in pencil on the title page of each pamphlet, to correspond with the figures of this brief list. then the catalogue of each should indicate its exact location, thus: wilkeson (samuel) how our national debt may become a national blessing, pp. vo. phila., [miscellaneous pamphlets, v. : ], meaning that this is the third pamphlet bound in vol. . the only objection to separate binding of each pamphlet, is the increased expense. the advantage of distinct treatment may or may not outweigh this, according to the importance of the pamphlet, the circumstances of the library, and the funds at its command. if bound substantially in good half-leather, with leather corners, the cost is reckoned at _s._ _d._ each, in london. here, they cost about thirty cents with cloth sides, which may be reduced by the use of marble or manila paper, to twenty cents each. black roan is perhaps the best leather for pamphlets, as it brings out the lettering on the backs more distinctly--always a cardinal point in a library. but there is a more economical method, which dispenses with leather entirely. as no patent is claimed for the invention, or rather the modification of well-known methods, it may be briefly described. the thinnest tar-board is used for the sides, which, _i. e._, the boards, are cut down to nearly the size of the pamphlet to be bound. the latter is prepared for the boards by adding two or more waste leaves to the front and back, and backing it with a strip of common muslin, which is firmly pasted the full length of the back, and overlaps the sides to the width of an inch or more. the pamphlet has to be stitched through, or stabbed and fastened with wire, in the manner commonly practiced with thin books; after which it is ready to receive the boards. these are glued to a strip of book muslin, which constitutes the ultimate back of the book, being turned in neatly at each end, so as to form, with the boards, a skeleton cover, into which the pamphlet is inserted, and held in its place by the inner strip of muslin before described, which is pasted or glued to the inside of the boards. the boards are then covered with marbled paper, turned in at each edge, and the waste leaves pasted smoothly down to the boards on the inside. the only remaining process is the lettering, which is done by printing the titles in bronze upon glazed colored paper, which is pasted lengthwise on the back. a small font of type, with a hand-press, will suffice for this, and a stabbing machine, with a small pair of binding shears, constitutes the only other apparatus required. the cost of binding pamphlets in this style varies from seven to twelve cents each, according to the material employed, and the amount of labor paid for. the advantages of the method are too obvious to all acquainted with books to require exemplification. two still cheaper methods of binding may be named. what is known as the harvard binder, employed in that library at cambridge, mass., consists simply of thin board sides with muslin back, and stubs also of cloth on the inside. the pamphlet is inserted and held in place by paste or glue. the cost of each binding is stated at six cents. the cheapest style of separate treatment for pamphlets yet suggested is of stiff manila paper, with cloth back, costing about three cents each. i think that the rule of never mixing incongruous subjects within the same cover should be adhered to. the expense, by the cheaper method of binding referred to, is but slightly greater than must be incurred by binding several in a volume, in solid half morocco style. but, whenever pamphlets are bound together, the original printed paper covers should never be destroyed, but should be bound in. another method of preserving pamphlets is to file them away in selected lots, placed inside of cloth covers, of considerable thickness. these may be had from any book-binder, being the rejected covers in which books sent for re-binding were originally bound. if kept in this way, each volume, or case of pamphlets, should be firmly tied with cord (or better with tape) fastened to the front edge of the cloth cover. never use rubber or elastic bands for this, or any other purpose where time and security of fastening are involved, because the rubber will surely rot in a few weeks or months, and be useless as a means of holding together any objects whatever. still another means of assorting and keeping pamphlets is to use woodruff's file-holders, one of which holds from ten to thirty pamphlets according to their thickness. they should be arranged in classes, placing in each file case only pamphlets on similar subjects, in order of the authors' names, arranged alphabetically. each pamphlet should be plainly numbered at its head by colored pencil, with the figure of its place in the volume, and the number of the case, containing it, which should also be volumed, and assigned to shelves containing books on related subjects. i need not add that all these numbers should correspond with the catalogue-title of each pamphlet. then, when any one pamphlet is wanted, send for the case containing it, find it and withdraw it at once by its number, place it in one of the koch spring-back binders, and give it to the reader precisely like any book that is served at the library counter. a more economical plan still, for libraries which cannot afford the expense of the woodruff file-holders, is to cut out cases for the pamphlets, of suitable size, from tough manila board, which need not cost more than about three cents each case. in whatever way the unbound pamphlets are treated, you should always mark them as such on the left-hand margin of each catalogue-card, by the designation "ub." (unbound) in pencil. if you decide later, to bind any of them, this pencil-mark should be erased from the cards, on the return of the pamphlets from the bindery. chapter . periodical literature. the librarian who desires to make the management of his library in the highest degree successful, must give special attention to the important field of periodical literature. more and more, as the years roll on, the periodical becomes the successful rival of the book in the claim for public attention. indeed, we hear now and then, denunciations of the ever-swelling flood of magazines and newspapers, as tending to drive out the book. readers, we are told, are seduced from solid and improving reading, by the mass of daily, weekly, and monthly periodicals which lie in wait for them on every hand. but no indiscriminate censure of periodicals or of their reading, can blind us to the fact of their great value. because some persons devote an inordinate amount of time to them, is no reason why we should fail to use them judiciously ourselves, or to aid others in doing so. and because many periodicals (and even the vast majority) are of little importance, and are filled with trifling and ephemeral matter, that fact does not discredit the meritorious ones. counterfeit currency does not diminish the value of the true coin; it is very sure to find its own just level at last; and so the wretched or the sensational periodical, however pretentious, will fall into inevitable neglect and failure in the long run. it is true that the figures as to the relative issues of books and periodicals in the publishing world are startling enough to give us pause. it has been computed that of the annual product of the american press, eighty-two per cent. consists of newspapers, ten per cent. of magazines and reviews, and only eight per cent. of books. yet this vast redundancy of periodical literature is by no means such a menace to our permanent literature as it appears at first sight;--and that for three reasons: ( ) a large share of the books actually published, appear in the first instance in the periodicals in serial or casual form; ( ) the periodicals contain very much matter of permanent value; ( ) the steady increase of carefully prepared books in the publishing world, while it may not keep pace with the rapid increase of periodicals, evinces a growth in the right direction. it is no longer so easy to get a crude or a poor book published, as it was a generation ago. the standard of critical taste has risen, and far more readers are judges of what constitutes a really good book than ever before. while it is true that our periodical product has so grown, that whereas there were twenty years ago, in , only , different newspapers and magazines published in the united states, there are now, in , over , issued, it can also be stated that the annual product of books has increased in the same twenty years from less than two thousand to more than five thousand volumes of new issues in a year. whatever may be the future of our american literature, it can hardly be doubted that the tendency is steadily toward the production of more books, and better ones. whether a public library be large or small, its value to students will depend greatly upon the care and completeness with which its selection of periodical works is made, and kept up from year to year. nothing is more common in all libraries, public and private, than imperfect and partially bound sets of serials, whether newspapers, reviews, magazines or the proceedings and reports of scientific and other societies. nothing can be more annoying than to find the sets of such publications broken at the very point where the reference or the wants of those consulting them require satisfaction. in these matters, perpetual vigilance is the price of completeness; and the librarian who is not willing or able to devote the time and means requisite to complete the files of periodical publications under his charge is to be censured or commiserated, according to the causes of the failure. the first essential in keeping up the completeness of files of ephemeral publications, next to vigilance on the part of their custodian, is room for the arrangement of the various parts, and means for binding with promptitude. some libraries, and among them a few of the largest, are so hampered for want of room, that their serials are piled in heaps without order or arrangement, and are thus comparatively useless until bound. in the more fortunate institutions, which possess adequate space for the orderly arrangement of all their stores, there can be no excuse for failing to supply any periodical, whether bound or unbound, at the moment it is called for. it is simply necessary to devote sufficient time each day to the systematic arrangement of all receipts: to keep each file together in chronological order; to supply them for the perusal of readers, with a proper check or receipt, and to make sure of binding each new volume as fast as the publication of titles and index enables it to be done properly. while some libraries receive several thousands of serials, the periodical publications taken by others amount to a very small number; but in either case, the importance of prompt collation and immediate supply of missing parts or numbers is equally imperative. while deficiencies in daily newspapers can rarely be made up after the week, and sometimes not after the day of their appearance, the missing parts of official and other publications, as well as of reviews and magazines appearing at less frequent intervals, can usually be supplied within the year, although a more prompt securing of them is often necessary. in these publications, as in the acquisition of books for any library, the collation of each part or number is imperative, in order to avoid imperfections which may be irreparable. first in the ranks of these ephemeral publications, in order of number, if not of importance, come the journals of all classes, daily and weekly, political, illustrated, literary, scientific, mechanical, professional, agricultural, financial, etc. from the obscure and fugitive beginnings of journalism in the sixteenth century to the establishment of the first continuous newspaper--the london weekly news, in , and renaudot's gazette (afterwards the _gazette de france_) in , followed by the issue of the first daily newspaper, the london daily courant, in , and the boston weekly news-letter in , (the first american journal)--to the wonderful fecundity of the modern periodical press, which scatters the leaves of more than thirty thousand different journals broadcast over the world, there is a long and interesting history of the trials and triumphs of a free press. in whatever respect american libraries may fall behind those of older lands (and their deficiencies are vast, and, in many directions permanent) it may be said with confidence, that in the united states the newspaper has received its widest and most complete development. numerically, the fullest approximate return of the newspaper and periodical press gives a total number of , periodical publications, regularly appearing within the limits of the united states. while no one library, however large and comprehensive, has either the space or the means to accumulate a tithe of the periodicals that swarm from a productive press, there are valid reasons why more attention should be paid by the librarian to a careful preservation of a wise selection of the best of all this current literature. the modern newspaper and other periodical publications afford the fullest and truest, and on the whole, the most impartial image of the age we live in, that can be derived from a single source. taken together, they afford the richest material for the historian, or the student of politics, of society, of literature, and of civilization in all its varied aspects. what precious memorials of the day, even the advertisements and brief paragraphs of the newspapers of a century ago afford us! while in a field so vast, it is impossible for any one library to be more than a gleaner, no such institution can afford to neglect the collection and preservation of at least some of the more important newspapers from year to year. a public library is not for one generation only, but it is for all time. opportunities once neglected of securing the current periodicals of any age in continuous and complete form seldom or never recur. the principle of selection will of course vary in different libraries and localities. while the safest general rule is to secure the best and most representative of all the journals, reviews, and magazines within the limit of the funds which can be devoted to that purpose, there is another principle which should largely guide the selection. in each locality, it should be one leading object of the principal library to gather within its walls the fullest representation possible, of the literature relating to its own state and neighborhood. in every city and large town, the local journals and other periodicals should form an indispensable part of a public library collection. where the means are wanting to purchase these, the proprietors will frequently furnish them free of expense, for public use; but no occasion should be lost of securing, immediately on its issue from the press, every publication, large or small, which relates to the local history or interests of the place where the library is maintained. while the files of the journals of any period furnish unquestionably the best instruments for the history of that epoch, it is lamentable to reflect that so little care has ever been taken to preserve a fair representation of those of any age. the destiny of nearly all newspapers is swift destruction; and even those which are preserved, commonly survive in a lamentably fragmentary state. the obvious causes of the rapid disappearance of periodical literature, are its great volume, necessarily increasing with every year, the difficulty of lodging the files of any long period in our narrow apartments, and the continual demand for paper for the uses of trade. to these must be added the great cost of binding files of journals, increasing in the direct ratio of the size of the volume. as so formidable an expense can be incurred by very few private subscribers to periodicals, so much the more important is it that the public libraries should not neglect a duty which they owe to their generation, as well as to those that are to follow. these poor journals of to-day, which everybody is willing to stigmatize as trash, not worth the room to store or the money to bind, are the very materials which the man of the future will search for with eagerness, and for some of which he will be ready to pay their weight in gold. these representatives of the commercial, industrial, inventive, social, literary, political, moral and religious life of the times, should be preserved and handed down to posterity with sedulous care. no historian or other writer on any subject who would write conscientiously or with full information, can afford to neglect this fruitful mine of the journals, where his richest materials are frequently to be found. in the absence of any great library of journals, or of that universal library which every nation should possess, it becomes the more important to assemble in the various local libraries all those ephemeral publications, which, if not thus preserved contemporaneously with their issue, will disappear utterly, and elude the search of future historical inquirers. and that library which shall most sedulously gather and preserve such fugitive memorials of the life of the people among which it is situated will be found to have best subserved its purpose to the succeeding generations of men. not less important than the preservation of newspapers is that of reviews and magazines. in fact, the latter are almost universally recognized as far more important than the more fugitive literature of the daily and weekly press. though inferior to the journals as historical and statistical materials, reviews and magazines supply the largest fund of discussion concerning such topics of scientific, social, literary, and religious interest as occupy the public mind during the time in which they appear. more and more the best thought of the times gets reflected in the pages of this portion of the periodical press. no investigator in any department can afford to overlook the rich stores contributed to thought in reviews and magazines. these articles are commonly more condensed and full of matter than the average books of the period. while every library, therefore, should possess for the current use and ultimate reference of its readers a selection of the best, as large as its means will permit, a great and comprehensive library, in order to be representative of the national literature, should possess them all. * * * * * the salient fact that the periodical press absorbs, year by year, more of the talent which might otherwise be expended upon literature of more permanent form is abundantly obvious. this tendency has both its good and its evil results. on the one hand, the best writing ability is often drawn out by magazines and journals, which are keen competitors for attractive matter, and for known reputations, and sometimes they secure both in combination. on the other hand, it is a notable fact that writers capable of excellent work often do great injustice to their reputations by producing too hastily articles written to order, instead of the well-considered, ripe fruits of their literary skill. whether the brief article answering the limits of a magazine or a review is apt to be more or less superficial than a book treating the same topic, is a question admitting of different views. if the writer is capable of skilful condensation, without loss of grace of composition, or of graphic power, then the article, measured by its influence upon the public mind, must be preferred to the more diffuse treatise of the book. it has the immense advantage of demanding far less of the reader's time; and whenever its conclusions are stated in a masterly way, its impression should be quite as lasting as that of any book treating a similar theme. such is doubtless the effect of the abler articles written for periodicals, which are more condensed and full of matter in speedily available form, than the average book of the period. in this sense it is a misuse of terms to call the review article ephemeral, or to treat the periodicals containing them as perishable literary commodities, which serve their term with the month or year that produced them. on the contrary, the experience of librarians shows that the most sought-for, and the most useful contributions to any subject are frequently found, not in the books written upon it, but in the files of current periodicals, or in those of former years. it is especially to be noted that the book may frequently lose its adaptation and usefulness by lapse of time, and the onward march of science, while the article is apt to reflect the latest light which can help to illustrate the subject. while, therefore, there is always a liability of finding many crude and sketchy contributions in the literature of the periodical press, its conductors are ever on the alert to reduce to a minimum the weak or unworthy offerings, and to secure a maximum of articles embodying mature thought and fit expression. the pronounced tendency toward short methods in every channel of human activity, is reflected in the constantly multiplying series of periodical publications. the publishing activities of the times are taking on a certain coöperative element, which was not formerly known. thus, the "literary syndicate" has been developed by degrees into one of the most far-reaching agencies for popular entertainment. the taste for short stories, in place of the ancient three volume novel, has been cultivated even in conservative england, and has become so wide-spread in the united states, that very few periodicals which deal in fiction at all, are without their stories begun and finished in a single issue. the talent required to produce a fascinating and successful fiction in this narrow compass is a peculiar one, and while there are numerous failures, there are also a surprising number of successes. well written descriptive articles, too, are in demand, and special cravings for personal gossip and lively sketches of notable living characters are manifest. that perennial interest which mankind and womankind evince in every individual whose name, for whatever reason, has become familiar, supplies a basis for an inexhaustible series of light paragraphic articles. another fruitful field for the syndicate composition is brief essays upon any topic of the times, the fashions, notable events, or new inventions, public charities, education, governmental doings, current political movements, etc. these appear almost simultaneously, in many different periodicals, scattered throughout the country, under the copyright _imprimatur_, which warns off all journals from republishing, which have not subscribed to the special "syndicate" engaging them. thus each periodical secures, at extremely moderate rates, contributions which are frequently written by the most noted and popular living writers, who, in their turn, are much better remunerated for their work than they would be for the same amount of writing if published in book form. whether this now popular method of attaining a wide and remunerative circulation for their productions will prove permanent, is less certain than that many authors now find it the surest road to profitable employment of their pens. the fact that it rarely serves to introduce unknown writers of talent to the reading world, may be laid to the account of the eagerness of the syndicates to secure names that already enjoy notoriety. the best method for filing newspapers for current reading is a vexed question in libraries. in the large ones, where room enough exists, large reading-stands with sloping sides furnish the most convenient access, provided with movable metal rods to keep the papers in place. where no room exists for these stands, some of the numerous portable newspaper-file inventions, or racks, may be substituted, allowing one to each paper received at the library. for filing current magazines, reviews, and the smaller newspapers, like the literary and technical journals, various plans are in use. all of these have advantages, while none is free from objection. some libraries use the ordinary pamphlet case, in which the successive numbers are kept until a volume is accumulated for binding. this requires a separate case for each periodical, and where many are taken, is expensive, though by this method the magazines are kept neat and in order. others use small newspaper files or tapes for periodicals. others still arrange them alphabetically on shelves, in which case the latest issues are found on top, if the chronology is preserved. in serving periodicals to readers, tickets should be required (as for books) with title and date, as a precaution against loss, or careless leaving upon tables. whether current periodicals are ever allowed to be drawn out, must depend upon several weighty considerations. when only one copy is taken, no circulation should be permitted, so that the magazines and journals may be always in, at the service of readers frequenting the library. but in some large public libraries, where several copies of each of the more popular serials are subscribed to, it is the custom to keep one copy (sometimes two) always in, and to allow the duplicate copies to be drawn out. this circulation should be limited to a period much shorter than is allowed for keeping books. in no case, should the bound volumes of magazines, reviews, and journals of whatever kind be allowed to leave the library. this is a rule which should be enforced for the common benefit of all the readers, since to lend to one reader any periodical or work of general reference is to deprive all the rest of its use just so long as it is out of the library. this has become all the more important since the publication of poole's indexes to periodical literature has put the whole reading community on the quest for information to be found only (in condensed form, or in the latest treatment) in the volumes of the periodical press. and it is really no hardship to any quick, intelligent reader, to require that these valuable serials should be used within the library only. an article is not like a book;--a long and perhaps serious study, requiring many hours or days to master it. the magazine or review article, whatever other virtues it may lack, has the supreme merit of brevity. the only valid exception which will justify loaning the serial volumes of periodicals outside the library, is when there are duplicate sets of any of them. some large libraries having a wide popular circulation are able to buy two or more sets of the magazines most in demand, and so to lend one out, while another is kept constantly in for use and reference. and even a library of small means might secure for its shelves duplicate sets of many periodicals, by simply making known that it would be glad to receive from any families or other owners, all the numbers of their magazines, etc., which they no longer need for use. this would bring in, in any large town or city, a copious supply of periodicals which house-keepers, tired of keeping, storing and dusting such unsightly property, would be glad to bestow where they would do the most good. whatever periodicals are taken, it is essential to watch over their completeness by keeping a faithfully revised check-list. this should be ruled to furnish blank spaces for each issue of all serials taken, whether quarterly, monthly, weekly, or daily, and no week should elapse without complete scrutiny of the list, and ordering all missing numbers from the publishers. mail failures are common, and unceasing vigilance is the price that must be paid for completeness. the same check-list, by other spaces, should show the time of expiration of subscriptions, and the price paid per year. and where a large number of periodicals are received, covering many parts of the country, they should be listed, not only by an alphabet of titles, but by another alphabet of places where published, as well. if a new library is to be formed, having no sets of periodicals on which to build, effort should be made to secure full sets from the beginning of as many of the prominent magazines and reviews, american and foreign, as the funds will permit. it is expedient to wait a little, rather than to take up with incomplete sets, as full ones are pretty sure to turn up, and competition between the many dealers should bring down prices to a fair medium. in fact, many old sets of magazines are offered surprisingly cheap, and usually well-bound. but vigilant care must be exercised to secure perfect sets, as numbers are often mutilated, or deficient in some pages or illustrations. this object can only be secured by collation of every volume, page by page, with due attention to the list of illustrations, if any are published. in the absence of british bibliographical enterprise (a want much to be deplored) it has fallen to the lot of american librarians to produce the only general index of subjects to english periodical literature which exists. poole's index to periodical literature is called by the name of its senior editor, the late dr. wm. f. poole, and was contributed to by many librarians on a coöperative division of labor, in indexing, under direction of mr. wm. i. fletcher, librarian of amherst college. this index to leading periodicals is literally invaluable, and indispensable as an aid to research. its first volume indexes in one alphabet the periodicals embraced, from their first issues up to . the second volume runs from to , and the third covers the period from to , while a fourth volume indexes the periodicals from to , inclusive. for , and each year after, an annual index to the publications of the year is issued. besides this, the _review of reviews_ publishes monthly an index to one month's leading periodicals, and also an annual index, very full, in a single alphabet. and the "cumulative index," issued both monthly and quarterly, by w. h. brett, the cleveland, ohio, librarian, is an admirably full means of keeping our keys to periodical literature up to date. there are other indexes to periodicals, published monthly or quarterly, too numerous to be noticed here. the annual _new york tribune_ index (the only daily journal, except the _london times_, which prints an index) is highly useful, and may be used for other newspapers as well, for the most important events or discussions, enabling one to search the dailies for himself, the date once being fixed by aid of the index. mention should also be made here of the admirably comprehensive annual "_rowell's newspaper directory_," which should rather be called the "american periodical directory," since it has a classified catalogue of all periodicals published in the united states and canada. chapter . the art of reading. "the true university of these days," says a great scholar of our century, thomas carlyle, "is a collection of books, and all education is to teach us how to read." if there were any volume, out of the multitude of books about books that have been written, which could illuminate the pathway of the unskilled reader, so as to guide him into all knowledge by the shortest road, what a boon that book would be! when we survey the vast and rapidly growing product of the modern press,--when we see these hosts of poets without imagination, historians without accuracy, critics without discernment, and novelists without invention or style, in short, the whole prolific brood of writers who do not know how to write,--we are tempted to echo the sentiment of wordsworth:-- "the intellectual power, through words and things, goes sounding on a dim and perilous way." the most that any one can hope to do for others is to suggest to them a clue which, however feeble, has helped to guide his uncertain footsteps through the labyrinthian maze of folly and wisdom which we call literature. the knowledge acquired by a librarian, while it may be very wide and very varied, runs much risk of being as superficial as it is diversified. there is a very prevalent, but very erroneous notion which conceives of a librarian as a kind of animated encyclopaedia, who, if you tap him in any direction, from a to z, will straightway pour forth a flood of knowledge upon any subject in history, science, or literature. this popular ideal, however fine in theory, has to undergo what commercial men call a heavy discount when reduced to practice. the librarian is a constant and busy worker in far other fields than exploring the contents of books. his day is filled with cataloguing, arranging and classifying them, searching catalogues, selecting new books, correspondence, directing assistants, keeping library records, adjusting accounts, etc., in the midst of which he is constantly at the call of the public for books and information. what time has he, wearied by the day's multifarious and exacting labors, for any thorough study of books? so, when anyone begins an inquiry with, "you know everything; can you tell me,"--i say: "stop a moment; omniscience is not a human quality; i really know very few things, and am not quite sure of some of them." there are many men, and women, too, in almost every community, whose range of knowledge is more extended than that of most librarians. the idea, then, that because one lives perpetually among books, he absorbs all the learning that they contain, must be abandoned as a popular delusion. to know a little upon many subjects is quite compatible with not knowing much about any one. "beware of the man of one book," is an ancient proverb, pregnant with meaning. the man of one book, if it is wisely chosen, and if he knows it all, can sometimes confound a whole assembly of scholars. an american poet once declared to me that all leisure time is lost that is not spent in reading shakespeare. and we remember emerson's panegyric upon plato's writings, borrowing from the caliph omar his famous (but apocryphal) sentence against all books but the koran: "burn all the libraries, for their value is in this book." so sheffield, duke of buckingham: "read homer once, and you can read no more, for all books else appear so tame, so poor, verse will seem prose, but still persist to read, and homer will be all the books you need." of course i am far from designing to say anything against the widest study, which great libraries exist to supply and to encourage; and all utterances of a half-truth, like the maxim i have quoted, are exaggerations. but the saying points a moral--and that is, the supreme importance of thoroughness in all that we undertake. the poetical wiseacre who endowed the world with the maxim, "a little learning is a dangerous thing," does not appear to have reflected upon the logical sequence of the dictum, namely: that if a little learning upon any subject is dangerous, then less must be still more dangerous. * * * * * the art of reading to the best advantage implies the command of adequate time to read. the art of having time to read depends upon knowing how to make the best use of our days. days are short, and time is fleeting, but no one's day ever holds less than hours. engrossing as one's occupation may be, it need never consume all the time remaining from sleep, refreshment and social intercourse. the half hour before breakfast, the fifteen minutes waiting for dinner, given to the book you wish to read, will soon finish it, and make room for another. the busiest men i have known have often been the most intelligent, and the widest readers. the idle person never knows how to make use of odd moments; the busy one always knows how. yet the vast majority of people go through life without ever learning the great lesson of the supreme value of moments. let us suppose that you determine to devote two hours every day to reading. that is equivalent to more than seven hundred hours a year, or to three months of working time of eight hours a day. what could you not do in three months, if you had all the time to yourself? you could almost learn a new language, or master a new science; yet this two hours a day, which would give you three months of free time every year, is frittered away, you scarcely know how, in aimless matters that lead to nothing. a famous writer of our century, some of whose books you have read,--edward bulwer lytton,--devoted only four hours a day to writing; yet he produced more than sixty volumes of fiction, poetry, drama and criticism, of singular literary merit. the great naturalist, darwin, a chronic sufferer from a depressing malady, counted two hours a fortunate day's work for him; yet he accomplished results in the world of science which render his name immortal. be not over particular as to hours, or the time of day, and you will soon find that all hours are good for the muse. have a purpose, and adhere to it with good-humored pertinacity. be independent of the advice and opinions of others; the world of books, like the world of nature, was made for you; possess it in your own way. if you find no good in ancient history or in metaphysics, let them alone and read books of art, or poetry, or biography, or voyages and travels. the wide domain of knowledge and the world of books are so related, that all roads cross and converge, like the paths that carry us over the surface of the globe on which we live. many a reader has learned more of past times from good biographies, than from any formal history; and it is a fact that many owe to the plays of shakespeare and the novels of walter scott nearly all the knowledge which they possess of the history of england and scotland. it is unhappily true that books do not teach the use of books. the art of extracting what is important or instructive in any book, from the mass of verbiage that commonly overlays it, cannot be learned by theory. invaluable as the art of reading is, as a means of enlightenment, its highest uses can only be obtained by a certain method of reading, which will separate the wheat from the chaff. different readers will, of course, possess different capacities for doing this. young or undisciplined minds can read only in one way,--and that way is, to mentally pronounce every word, and dwell equally upon all the parts of every sentence. this comes naturally in the first instance, from the mere method of learning to read, in which every word is a spoken symbol, and has to be sounded, whether it is essential to the sense, or not. this habit of reading, which may be termed the literal method, goes with most persons through life. once learned, it is very hard to unlearn. there are multitudes who cannot read a newspaper, even, without dwelling upon every word, and coming to a full stop at the end of every sentence. now this method of reading, while it may be indispensable to all readers at some time, and to some readers at all times, is too slow and fruitless for the student who aims to absorb the largest amount of knowledge in the briefest space of time. life is too short to be wasted over the rhetoric or the periods of an author whose knowledge we want as all that concerns us. doubtless there are classes of literature in which form or expression predominates, and we cannot read poetry, for example, or the drama, or even the higher class of fiction, without lingering upon the finer passages, to get the full impression of their beauty. in reading works of the imagination, we read not for ideas alone, but for expression also, and to enjoy the rhythm and melody of the verse, if it be poetry, or, if prose, the finished rhetoric, and the pleasing cadence of the style. it is here that the literary skill of an accomplished writer, and all that we understand by rhetoric, becomes important, while in reading for information only, we may either ignore words and phrases entirely, or subordinate them to the ideas which they convey. in reading any book for the knowledge it contains, i should as soon think of spelling out all the words, as of reading out all the sentences. just as, in listening to a slow speaker, you divine the whole meaning of what he is about to say, before he has got half through his sentence, so, in reading, you can gather the full sense of the ideas which any sentence contains, without stopping to accentuate the words. leaving aside the purely literary works, in which form or style is a predominant element, let us come to books of science, history, biography, voyages, travels, etc. in these, the primal aim is to convey information, and thus the style of expression is little or nothing--the thought or the fact is all. yet most writers envelop the thought or the fact in so much verbiage, complicate it with so many episodes, beat it out thin, by so much iteration and reiteration, that the student must needs learn the art of skipping, in self-defense. to one in zealous pursuit of knowledge, to read most books through is paying them too extravagant a compliment. he has to read between the lines, as it were, to note down a fact here, or a thought there, or an illustration elsewhere, and leaves alone all that contributes nothing to his special purpose. as the quick, practiced eye glances over the visible signs of thought, page after page is rapidly absorbed, and a book which would occupy an ordinary reader many days in reading, is mastered in a few hours. the habit of reading which i have outlined, and which may be termed the intuitive method, or, if you prefer it, the short-hand method, will more than double the working power of the reader. it is not difficult to practice, especially to a busy man, who does with all his might what he has got to do. but it should be learned early in life, when the faculties are fresh, the mind full of zeal for knowledge, and the mental habits are ductile, not fixed. with it one's capacity for acquiring knowledge, and consequently his accomplishment, whether as writer, teacher, librarian, or private student, will be immeasureably increased. doubtless it is true that some native or intuitive gifts must be conjoined with much mental discipline and perseverance, in order to reach the highest result, in this method of reading, as in any other study. "_non omnia possumus omnes_," virgil says; and there are intellects who could no more master such a method, than they could understand the binomial theorem, or calculate the orbit of uranus. if it be true, as has been epigramatically said, that "a great book is a great evil," let it be reduced to a small one by the skilful use of the art of skipping. then, "he that runs may read" as he runs--while, without this refuge, he that reads will often assuredly be tempted to run. what i said, just now, in deprecation of set courses of reading, was designed for private students only, who so often find a stereotyped sequence of books barren or uninteresting. it was not intended to discourage the pursuit of a special course of study in the school, or the society, or the reading class. this is, in fact, one of the best means of intellectual progress. here, there is the opportunity to discuss the style, the merits, and the characteristics of the author in hand, and by the attrition of mind with mind, to inform and entertain the whole circle of readers. in an association of this kind, embracing one or two acute minds, the excellent practice of reading aloud finds its best results. here, too, the art of expression becomes important, how to adapt the sound to the sense, by a just emphasis, intonation, and modulation of the voice. in short, the value of a book thus read and discussed, in an appreciative circle, may be more than doubled to each reader. it is almost literally true that no book, undertaken merely as task work, ever helped the reader to knowledge of permanent or material value. how many persons, struck by mr. emerson's exalted praise of the writings of plato, have undertaken to go through the dialogues. alas! for the vain ambition to be or to seem learned! after trying to understand the phaedo, or falling asleep over the gorgias, the book has been dropped as hastily as it was taken up. it was not perceived that in order to enjoy or comprehend a philosopher, one must have a capacity for ideas. it requires almost as much intelligence to appreciate an idea as to conceive one. one will bring nothing home from the most persistent cruise after knowledge, unless he carries something out. in the realm of learning, we recognize the full meaning of that scripture, that to him that hath, shall be given; and he that hath not, though never so anxious to read and understand plato, will quickly return to the perusal of his daily newspaper. it were easier, perhaps, in one sense, to tell what not to read, than to recommend what is best worth reading. in the publishing world, this is the age of compilation, not of creation. if we seek for great original works, if we must go to the wholesale merchants to buy knowledge, since retail geniuses are worth but little, one must go back many years for his main selection of books. it would not be a bad rule for those who can read but little, to read no book until it has been published at least a year or two. this fever for the newest books is not a wholesome condition of the mind. and since a selection must indispensably be made, and that selection must be, for the great mass of readers, so rigid and so small, why should precious time be wasted upon the ephemeral productions of the hour? what business, for example, has one to be reading rider haggard, or amélie rives, or ian maclaren, who has never read homer, or dante, or even so much as half-a-dozen plays of shakespeare? one hears with dismay that about three-fourths of the books drawn from our popular libraries are novels. now, while such aimless reading, merely to be amused, is doubtless better than no reading at all, it is unquestionably true that over-much reading of fiction, especially at an early age, enervates the mind, weakens the will, makes dreamers instead of thinkers and workers, and fills the imagination with morbid and unreal views of life. yet the vast consumption of novels is due more to the cheapness and wide diffusion of such works, and the want of wise direction in other fields, than to any original tendency on the part of the young. people will always read the most, that which is most put before them, if only the style be attractive. the mischief that is done by improper books is literally immeasureable. the superabundance of cheap fictions in the markets creates and supplies an appetite which should be directed by wise guidance into more improving fields. a two-fold evil follows upon the reading of every unworthy book; in the first place, it absorbs the time which should be bestowed upon a worthy one; and secondly, it leaves the mind and heart unimproved, instead of conducing to the benefit of both. as there are few books more elevating than a really good novel, so there are none more fruitful of evil than a bad one. and what of the newspaper? it may be asked. when i consider for how much really good literature we are beholden to the daily and weekly press, how indispensable is its function as purveyor of the news of the world, how widely it has been improved in recent years, i cannot advise quarreling with the bridge that brings so many across the gulf of ignorance. yet the newspaper, like the book, is to be read sparingly, and with judgment. it is to be used, not abused. i call that an abuse which squanders the precious and unreturning hours over long chronicles of depravity. the murders, the suicides, the executions, the divorces, the criminal trials, are each and all so like one another that it is only a wanton waste of time to read them. the morbid style in which social disorders of all kinds are written up in the sensational press, with staring headlines to attract attention, ought to warn off every healthy mind from their perusal. every scandal in society that can be brought to the surface is eagerly caught up and paraded, while the millions of people who lead blameless lives of course go unnoticed and unchronicled. such journals thus inculcate the vilest pessimism, instead of a wholesome and honest belief in the average decency of human nature. the prolixity of the narrative, too, is always in monstrous disproportion to its importance. "does not the burning of a metropolitan theatre," says a great writer, "take above a million times as much telling as the creation of a world?" here is where the art of skipping is to be rigorously applied. read the newspaper by headlines only,--skipping all the murders, all the fires, all the executions, all the crimes, all the news, except the most important and immediately interesting,--and you will spend perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes upon what would otherwise occupy hours. it is no exaggeration to say that most persons have spent time enough over the newspapers, to have given them a liberal education. as all readers cannot have the same gifts, so all cannot enjoy the same books. there are those who can see no greatness in shakespeare, but who think tupper's proverbial philosophy sublime. some will eagerly devour every novel of miss braddon's, or "the duchess," or the woman calling herself "ouida," but they cannot appreciate the masterly fictions of thackeray. i have known very good people who could not, for the life of them, find any humor in dickens, but who actually enjoyed the strained wit of mrs. partington and bill nye. readers who could not get through a volume of gibbon will read with admiration a so-called history of napoleon by abbott. and i fear that you will find many a young lady of to-day, who is content to be ignorant of homer and shakespeare, but who is ravished by the charms of "trilby" or the "heavenly twins." but taste in literature, as in art, or in anything else, can be cultivated. lay down the rule, and adhere to it, to read none but the best books, and you will soon lose all relish for the poor ones. you can educate readers into good judges, in no long time, by feeding them on the masterpieces of english prose and poetry. surely, we all have cause to deprecate the remorseless flood of fictitious literature in which better books are drowned. be not dismayed at the vast multitude of books, nor fear that, with your small leisure, you will never be able to master any appreciable share of them. few and far between are the great books of the world. the works which it is necessary to know, may be comprised in a comparatively small compass. the rest are to be preserved in the great literary conservatories, some as records of the past, others as chronicles of the times, and not a few as models to be avoided. the congressional library at washington is our great national conservatory of books. as the library of the government--that is, of the whole people,--it is inclusive of all the literature which the country produces, while all the other libraries are and must be more or less exclusive. no national library can ever be too large. in order that the completeness of the collection shall not fail, and to preserve the whole of our literature, it is put into the statute of copyright, as a condition precedent of the exclusive right to multiply copies of any book, that it shall be deposited in the library of congress. apprehension is sometimes expressed that our national library will become overloaded with trash, and so fail of its usefulness. 'tis a lost fear. there is no act of congress requiring all the books to be read. the public sense is continually winnowing and sifting the literature of every period, and to books and their authors, every day is the day of judgment. nowhere in the world is the inexorable law of the survival of the fittest more rigidly applied than in the world of books. the works which are the most frequently re-printed in successive ages are the ones which it is safe to stand by. books may be divided into three classes: st, acquaintances; d, friends; and d, intimates. it is well enough to have an acquaintance with a multitude of books, as with many people; though in either case much time should not be given to merely pleasant intercourse, that leads to no result. with our literary friends, we can spend more time, for they awaken keen interest, and are to be read with zest, and consequently with profit. but for our chosen intimates, our heart-companions, we reserve our highest regard, and our best hours. choice and sacred is the book that makes an era in the life of the reader; the book which first rouses his higher nature, and awakens the reason or the imagination. such a volume will many a one remember; the book which first excited his own thought, made him conscious of untried powers, and opened to his charmed vision a new world. such a book has carlyle's sartor resartus been to many; or the play of hamlet, read for the first time; or the faust of goethe; or the confessions of st. augustine; or an essay of emerson; or john ruskin; or the divine comedy of dante; or even an exquisite work of fiction, like john halifax, or henry esmond. what the book is that works such miracles is never of so much importance as the epoch in the mind of the reader which it signalizes. it were vain to single out any one writer, and say to all readers--"here is the book that must indispensably be read;" for the same book will have totally different effects upon different minds, or even upon the same mind, at different stages of development. when i have been asked to contribute to the once popular _symposia_ upon "books which have helped me,"--i have declined, for such catalogues of intellectual aids are liable to be very misleading. thus, if i were to name the book which did more than most others for my own mind, i should say that it was the emile of rousseau, read at about the age of seventeen. this work, written with that marvellous eloquence which characterises all the best productions of jean jacques, first brought me acquainted with those advanced ideas of education which have penetrated the whole modern world. yet the emile would probably appear to most of my readers trite and common-place, as it would now to me, for the reason that we have long passed the period of development when its ideas were new to us. but the formative power of books can never be over-rated: their subtle mastery to stimulate all the germs of intellectual and moral life that lie enfolded in the mind. as the poet sings-- "books are not seldom talismans and spells." why should they not be so? they furnish us the means, and the only means, whereby we may hold communion with the master-spirits of all ages. they bring us acquainted with the best thoughts which the human mind has produced, expressed in the noblest language. books create for us the many-sided world, carry us abroad, out of our narrow provincial horizons, and reveal to us new scenery, new men, new languages, and new modes of life. as we read, the mind expands with the horizon, and becomes broad as the blue heaven above us. with homer, we breathe the fresh air of the pristine world, when the light of poetry gilded every mountain top, and peopled the earth with heroes and demigods. with plutarch, we walk in company with sages, warriors, and statesmen, and kindle with admiration of their virtues, or are roused to indignation at their crimes. with sophocles, we sound the depths of human passion, and learn the sublime lesson of endurance. we are charmed with an ode of horace, perfect in rhythm, perfect in sentiment, perfect in diction, and perfect in moral; the condensed essence of volumes in a single page. we walk with dante through the nether world, awed by the tremendous power with which he depicts for us the secrets of the prison house. with milton, we mount heaven-ward, and in the immortal verse of his minor poems, finer even than the stately march of paradise lost, we hear celestial music, and breathe diviner air. with that sovereign artist, shakespeare, full equally of delight and of majesty, we sweep the horizon of this complex human life, and become comprehensive scholars and citizens of the world. the masters of fiction enthrall us with their fascinating pages, one moment shaking us with uncontrollable laughter, and the next, dissolving us in tears. in the presence of all these emanations of genius, the wise reader may feed on nectar and ambrosia, and forget the petty cares and vexations of to-day. there are some books that charm us by their wit or their sweetness, others that surprise and captivate us by their strength: books that refresh us when weary: books that comfort us when afflicted: books that stimulate us by their robust health: books that exalt and refine our natures, as it were, to a finer mould: books that rouse us like the sound of a trumpet: books that illumine the darkest hours, and fill all our day with delight. it is books that record the advance and the decline of nations, the experience of the world, the achievements and the possibilities of mankind. it is books that reveal to us ideas and images almost above ourselves, and go far to open for us the gates of the invisible. "a river of thought," says emerson, "is continually flowing out of the invisible world into the mind of man:" and we may add that books contain the most fruitful and permanent of the currents of that mighty river. i am not disposed to celebrate the praises of all books, nor to recommend to readers of any age a habit of indiscriminate reading: but for the books which are true helpers and teachers, the thoughts of the best poets, historians, publicists, philosophers, orators,--if their value is not real, then there are no realities in the world. very true is it, nevertheless, that the many-sided man cannot be cultivated by books alone. one may learn by heart whole libraries, and yet be profoundly unacquainted with the face of nature, or the life of man. the pale student who gives himself wholly to books pays the penalty by losing that robust energy of character, that sympathy with his kind, that keen sense of the charms of earth and sky, that are essential to complete development. "the world's great men," says oliver wendell holmes, "have not commonly been great scholars, nor its scholars great men." to know what other men have said about things is not always the most important part of knowledge. there is nothing that can dispense us from the independent use of our own faculties. meditation and observation are more valuable than mere absorption; and knowledge itself is not wisdom. the true way to use books is to make them our servants--not our masters. very helpful, cheering, and profitable will they become, when they fall naturally into our daily life and growth--when they tally with the moods of the mind. the habits and methods of readers are as various as those of authors. thus, there are some readers who gobble a book, as boswell tells us dr. johnson used to gobble his dinner--eagerly, and with a furious appetite, suggestive of dyspepsia, and the non-assimilation of food. then there are slow readers, who plod along through a book, sentence by sentence, putting in a mark conscientiously where they left off to-day, so as to begin at the self-same spot to-morrow; fast readers, who gallop through a book, as you would ride a flying bicycle on a race; drowsy readers, to whom a book is only a covert apology for a nap, and who pretend to be reading macaulay or herbert spencer only to dream between the leaves; sensitive readers, who cannot abide the least noise or interruption when reading, and to whose nerves a foot-fall or a conversation is an exquisite torture; absorbed readers, who are so pre-occupied with their pursuit that they forget all their surroundings--the time of day, the presence or the voices of others, the hour for dinner, and even their own existence; credulous readers, who believe everything they read because it is printed in a book, and swallow without winking the most colossal lying; critical and captious readers, who quarrel with the blunders or the beliefs of their author, and who cannot refrain from calling him an idiot or an ass--and perhaps even writing him down so on his own pages; admiring and receptive readers, who find fresh beauties in a favorite author every time they peruse him, and even discover beautiful swans in the stupidest geese that ever cackled along the flowery meads of literature; reverent readers, who treat a book as they would treat a great and good man, considerately and politely, carefully brushing the dust from a beloved volume with the sleeve, or tenderly lifting a book fallen to the floor, as if they thought it suffered, or felt harm; careless and rough readers, who will turn down books on their faces to keep the place, tumble them over in heaps, cram them into shelves never meant for them, scribble upon the margins, dogs-ear the leaves, or even cut them with their fingers--all brutal and intolerable practices, totally unworthy of any one pretending to civilization. to those who have well learned the art of reading, what inexhaustible delights does the world of books contain! with milton, "to behold the bright countenance of truth, in the quiet and still air of delightful studies;" to journey through far countries with marco polo; to steer across an unknown sea with columbus, or to brave the dangers of the frozen ocean with nansen or dr. kane; to study the manners of ancient nations with herodotus; to live over again the life of greece and rome with plutarch's heroes; to trace the decline of empires with gibbon and mommsen; to pursue the story of the modern world in the pages of hume, macaulay, thiers and sismondi, and our own prescott, motley, and bancroft; to enjoy afresh the eloquence of demosthenes, and the polished and splendid diction of cicero; to drink in the wisdom of philosophers, and to walk with socrates, plato and the stoics through the groves of academia; to be kindled by the saintly utterances of prophets and apostles, st. paul's high reasoning of immortality, or the seraphic visions of st. john; to study the laws that govern communities with the great publicists, or the economy of nations with adam smith and stuart mill; with the naturalists, to sound the depths of the argument as to the origin of species and the genesis of man; with the astronomers, to leave the narrow bounds of earth, and explore the illimitable spaces of the universe, in which our solar system is but a speck; with the mathematicians, to quit the uncertain realm of speculation and assumption, and plant our feet firmly on the rock of exact science:--to come back anon to lighter themes, and to revel in the grotesque humor of dickens, the philosophic page of bulwer, the chivalric romances of walter scott, the ideal creations of hawthorne, the finished life-pictures of george eliot, the powerful imagination of victor hugo, and the masterly delineations of thackeray; to hang over the absorbing biographies of dr. franklin, walter scott and dr. johnson; to peruse with fresh delight the masterpieces of irving and goldsmith, and the best essays of hazlitt, de quincey, charles lamb, and montaigne; to feel the inspiration of the great poets of all ages, from homer down to tennyson; to read shakespeare--a book that is in itself almost a university:--is not all this satisfaction enough for human appetite, however craving, solace enough for trouble, however bitter, occupation enough for life, however long? there are pleasures that perish in the using; but the pleasure which the art of reading carries with it is perennial. he who can feast on the intellectual spoils of centuries need fear neither poverty nor hunger. in the society of those immortals who still rule our spirits from their urns, we become assured that though heaven and earth may pass away, no true thought shall ever pass away. the great orator, on whose lips once hung multitudes, dies and is forgotten; the great actor passes swiftly off the stage, and is seen no more; the great singer, whose voice charmed listening crowds by its melody, is hushed in the grave; the great preacher survives but a single generation in the memory of men; all we who now live and act must be, in a little while, with yesterday's seven thousand years:--but the book of the great writer lives on and on, inspiring age after age of readers, and has in it more of the seeds of immortality than anything upon earth. chapter . aids to readers. there is one venerable latin proverb which deserves a wider recognition than it has yet received. it is to the effect that "the best part of learning is to know where to find things." from lack of this knowledge, an unskilled reader will often spend hours in vainly searching for what a skilled reader can find in less than five minutes. now, librarians are presumed to be skilled readers, although it would not be quite safe to apply this designation to all of that profession, since there are those among librarians, or their assistants, who are mere novices in the art of reading to advantage. manifestly, one cannot teach what he does not know: and so the librarian who has not previously travelled the same road, will not be able to guide the inquiring reader who asks him to point out the way. but if the way has once been found, the librarian, with only a fairly good memory, kept in constant exercise by his vocation, can find it again. still more surely, if he has been through it many times, will he know it intuitively, the moment any question is asked about it. it is true of the great majority of readers resorting to a library, that they have a most imperfect idea, both of what they want, and of the proper way to find it. the world of knowledge, they know, is vast, and they are quite bewildered by the many paths that lead to some part or other of it, crossing each other in all directions. and among the would-be readers may be found every shade of intelligence, and every degree of ignorance. there is the timid variety, too modest or diffident to ask for any help at all, and so feeling about among the catalogues or other reference-books in a baffled search for information. there is the sciolist variety, who knows it all, or imagines that he does, and who asks for proof of impossible facts, with an assurance born of the profoundest ignorance. then, too, there is the half-informed reader, who is in search of a book he once read, but has clean forgotten, which had a remarkable description of a tornado in the west, or a storm and ship-wreck at sea, or a wonderful tropical garden, or a thrilling escape from prison, or a descent into the bowels of the earth, or a tremendous snow-storm, or a swarming flight of migratory birds, or a mausoleum of departed kings, or a haunted chamber hung with tapestry, or the fatal caving-in of a coal-mine, or a widely destructive flood, or a hair-breadth escape from cannibals, or a race for life, pursued by wolves, or a wondrous sub-marine grotto, or a terrible forest fire, or any one of a hundred scenes or descriptions, all of which the librarian is presumed, not only to have read, but to have retained in his memory the author, the title, and the very chapter of the book which contained it. to give some idea of the extent and variety of information which a librarian is supposed to possess, i have been asked, almost at the same time, to refer a reader to the origin of candlemas day, to define the pragmatic sanction, to give, out of hand, the aggregate wealth of great britain, compared with that of half-a-dozen other nations, to define the limits of neutrality or belligerent rights, to explain what is meant by the gresham law, to tell what ship has made the quickest voyage to europe, when she made it, and what the time was, to elucidate the meaning of the carolina doctrine, to explain the character and objects of the knights of the golden circle, to tell how large are the endowments of the british universities, to give the origin of the custom of egg-rolling, to tell the meaning of the cipher dispatches, to explain who was "extra billy smith," to tell the aggregate number killed on all sides during the napoleonic wars, to certify who wrote the "vestiges of creation," or, finally, to give the author of one of those innumerable ancient proverbs, which float about the world without a father. the great number and variety of such inquiries as are propounded by readers should not appal one. nor should one too readily take refuge from a troublesome reader by the plea, however convenient, that the library contains nothing on that subject. while this may unquestionably be true, especially as regards a small public library, it should never be put forward as a certainty, until one has looked. most inquiring readers are very patient, and being fully sensible how much they owe to the free enjoyment of the library treasures, and to the aid of the superintendent of them, they are willing to wait for information. however busy you may be at the moment, the reader can be asked to wait, or to call at a less busy time, when you will be prepared with a more satisfactory answer than can be given on the spur of the moment. what cannot be done to-day, may often be done to-morrow. remember always, that readers are entitled to the best and most careful service, for a librarian is not only the keeper, but the interpreter of the intellectual stores of the library. it is a good and a safe rule to let no opportunity of aiding a reader escape. one should be particularly careful to volunteer help to those who are too new or too timid to ask: and it is they who will be most grateful for any assistance. the librarian has only to put himself in their place--(the golden rule for a librarian, as for all the world besides), and to consider how often, in his own searches in libraries, in the continual, never-ending quest of knowledge, he would have been thankful for a hint from some one who knew, or had been over the ground of his search before; and then he will feel the full value to the novice, of such knowledge as he can impart. he is not to forget that his superior opportunities for learning all about things, with a whole library at command, and within elbow-reach every hour of the day, should impose upon him a higher standard of attainment than most readers are supposed to have reached. in the intervals of library work, i am accustomed to consider the looking up of subjects or authorities as one of my very best recreations. it is as interesting as a game of whist, and much more profitable. it is more welcome than routine labor, for it rests or diverts the mind, by its very variety, while, to note the different views or expressions of writers on the same subject, affords almost endless entertainment. in tracing down a quotation also, or the half-remembered line of some verse in poetry, you encounter a host of parallel poetic images or expressions, which contribute to aid the memory, or to feed the imagination. or, in pursuing a sought-for fact in history, through many volumes, you learn collaterally much that may never have met your eye before. full, as all libraries are, of what we call trash, there is almost no book which will not give us something,--even though it be only the negative virtue of a model to be avoided. one may not, indeed, always find what he seeks, because it may not exist at all, or it may not be found in the limited range of his small library, but he is almost sure to find something which gives food for thought, or for memory to note. and this is one of the foremost attractions, let me add, of the librarian's calling; it is more full of intellectual variety, of wide-open avenues to knowledge, than any other vocation whatever. his daily quests in pursuit of information to lay before others, bring him acquainted with passages that are full of endless suggestion for himself. he may not be able to pursue any of these avenues at the moment; but he should make a mental or a written note of them, for future benefit. his daily business being learning, why should he not in time, become learned? there are, of course, among the infinitude of questions, that come before the librarian, some that are really insoluble problems. one of these is to be found among the topics of inquiry i just now suggested; namely: what is the aggregate wealth of great britain, or that of other nations? this is a question frequently asked by inquiring congressmen, who imagine that an answer may readily be had from one of those gifted librarians who is invested with that apocryphal attribute, commonly called omniscience. but the inquirer is suddenly confronted by the fact (and a very stubborn fact it is) that not a single foreign nation has ever taken any census of wealth whatever. in great britain (about which country inquiry as to the national resources more largely centres) the government wisely lets alone the attempt to tabulate the value of private wealth, knowing that such an object is utterly impracticable. but, while the british census makes no attempt at estimating the property of the people, the independent estimates of statistical writers vary hopelessly and irreconcilably. mr. j. r. mcculloch, one of the foremost accredited writers on economic science, lays it down as a dictum, that "sixty years is the shortest time in which the capital of an old and densely-peopled country can be expected to be doubled." yet joseph lowe assumes the wealth of the united kingdom to have doubled in eighteen years, from to ; while george r. porter, in his widely-accredited book on the "progress of the nation," and leoni levi, a publicist of high reputation, make out, (by combining their estimates) that the private wealth of england increased fifty per cent. in seventeen years, at which rate it would double in about twenty-nine years, instead of sixty, as laid down by mr. mcculloch. mr. levi calculates the aggregate private wealth of great britain in , at $ , , , , being a fraction less than the guesses of the census enumerators at the national wealth of the united states, twelve years later, in . can one guess be said to be any nearer the fact than the other? may we not be pardoned for treating all estimates as utterly fallacious that are not based upon known facts and figures? why do we hear so much of the "approximate correctness" of so many statistical tables, when, in point of fact, the primary data are incapable of proof, and the averages and conclusions built upon them are all assumed? "statisticians," says one of the fraternity, "are generally held to be eminently practical people; on the contrary, they are more given to theorizing than any other class of writers; and are generally less expert in it." in the presence of such gross discrepancies as these, by statisticians of the highest repute, and among such a practical people as the english, what value can be attached to the mere estimates of wealth which have been attempted in the census of the united states? the careful superintendent of the census of and , the late francis a. walker, writes concerning it: "at the best, these figures represent but the opinion of one man, or of a body of men, in the collection of material, and in the calculation of the several elements of the public wealth." and in the last census report for , the results of the so-called "census of wealth," are cautiously submitted, "as showing in a general way a continuous increase in the wealth of the nation, the exact proportions of which cannot be measured." now, what are we to conclude regarding the attempt to elevate to a rank in statistical science, mere estimates of private wealth, for a large portion of which, by the statements of those who make them, no actual statistical data exist? and when this is confessedly the case in our own country, the only one attempting the impossible task of tabulating the wealth of the people, what shall we say of the demand that is made upon our credulity of accepting the guesses of mr. giffen, or mr. mulhall, as to british wealth? are we not justified in applying the old latin maxim--"_de non apparentibus, et de non existentibus, eadem est ratio_," and replying to those who demand of us to know how much any nation is worth, that it is sometimes an important part of knowledge to know that nothing can be known? among the literally innumerable inquiries liable to be made of a librarian, here is one which may give him more than a moment's pause, unless he is uncommonly well versed in american political history--namely, "what was the ostend manifesto?" to a mind not previously instructed these two words "ostend manifesto", convey absolutely no meaning. you turn to the standard encyclopaedias, appleton's, johnson's universal, and the britannica, and you find an account of ostend, a little belgian city, its locality, commerce, and population, but absolutely nothing about an ostend manifesto. but in j. n. larned's "history for ready reference", a useful book in five volumes, arranged in alphabetical order, you get a clue. it refers you from ostend, under letter o, to cuba, where you learn that this formidable ostend manifesto was nothing more nor less than a paper drawn up and signed by messrs. buchanan, mason, and slidell, ministers of the united states to great britain, france, and spain, respectively, when at the watering-place of ostend, in , importing that the island of cuba ought to, and under certain circumstances, must belong to the united states. looking a little farther, as the manifesto is not published in larned, you find the text of the document itself in cluskey's "political text-book", of , and in some of the american newspapers of . this is a case of pursuing a once notorious, but more recently obscure topic, through many works of reference until found. in many searches for names of persons, it becomes highly important to know before-hand where to look, and equally important where not to look, for certain biographies. thus, if you seek for the name of any living character, it is necessary to know that it would be useless to look in the encyclopædia britannica, because the rule of compilation of that work purposely confined its sketches of notable persons to those who were already deceased when its volumes appeared. so you save the time of hunting in at least one conspicuous work of reference, before you begin, by simply knowing its plan. in like manner, you should know that it is useless to search for two classes of names in the "dictionary of national biography," the most copious biographical dictionary of british personages ever published, begun in , under leslie stephen, and reaching its sixty-first volume, and letter w in , under the editorship of sidney lee. these two classes of names are first, all persons not british, that is, not either english, scottish or irish; and secondly, names of british persons now living. this is because this great work, like the britannica, purposely confines itself to the names of notables deceased; and, unlike the britannica, it further limits its biographies to persons connected by birth or long residence with the british kingdom. knowing this fact before-hand, will save any time wasted in searching the dictionary of national biography for any persons now living, or for any american or european names. another caveat may properly be interposed as regards searches for information in that most widely advertised and circulated of all works of reference,--the encyclopaedia britannica. the plan of that work was to furnish the reading public with the very best treatises upon leading topics in science, history, and literature, by eminent scholars and specialists in various fields. pursuant to this general scheme, each great subject has a most elaborate, and sometimes almost exhaustive article--as, for example, chemistry, geology, etc., while the minor divisions of each topic do not appear in the alphabet at all, or appear only by cross-reference to the generic name under which they are treated. it results, that while you find, for example, a most extensive article upon "anatomy", filling a large part of a volume of the britannica, you look in vain in the alphabet for such subjects as "blood, brain, cartilage, sinew, tissue," etc., which are described only in the article "anatomy." this method has to be well comprehended in order for any reader to make use of this great cyclopaedia understandingly. even by the aid of the english index to the work, issued by its foreign publishers, the reader who is in hasty quest of information in the britannica, will most frequently be baffled by not finding any minor subject in the index. the english nation, judged by most of the productions of its literary and scientific men in that field, has small genius for indexing. it was reserved to an american to prepare and print a thorough index, at once alphabetical and analytical, to this great english thesaurus of information--an index ten times more copious, and therefore more useful to the student, than the meagre one issued in england. this index fills , closely printed columns, forming the whole of volume of the philadelphia edition of the work. by its aid, every name and every topic, treated anywhere in this vast repository of human knowledge can be traced out and appropriated; while without it, the encyclopaedia britannica, with all its great merits, must remain very much in the nature of a sealed book to the reader who stands in need of immediate use and reference. we have to take it for what it is--a collection of masterly treatises, rather than a handy dictionary of knowledge. the usefulness and success of any library will depend very largely upon the sympathy, so to speak, between the readers and the librarian. when this is well established, the rest is very easy. the librarian should not seclude himself so as to be practically inaccessible to readers, nor trust wholly to assistants to answer their inquiries. this may be necessary in some large libraries, where great and diversified interests connected with the building up of the collection, the catalogue system, and the library management and administration are all concerned. in the british museum library, no one ever sees the principal librarian; even the next officer, who is called the keeper of the printed books, is not usually visible in the reading-room at all. a librarian who is really desirous of doing the greatest good to the greatest number of people, will be not only willing, but anxious to answer inquiries, even though they may appear to him trivial and unimportant. still, he should also economise time by cultivating the habit of putting his answers into the fewest and plainest words. how far the librarian should place himself in direct communication with readers, must depend largely upon the extent of the library, the labor required in managing its various departments, the amount and value of assistance at his command, and upon various other circumstances, depending upon the different conditions with different librarians. but it may be laid down as a safe general rule, that the librarian should hold himself perpetually as a public servant, ready and anxious to answer in some way, all inquiries that may come to him. thus, and thus only, can he make himself, and the collection of books under his charge, useful in the highest degree to the public. he will not indeed, in any extensive library, find it convenient, or even possible, to answer all inquiries in person; but he should always be ready to enable his assistants to answer them, by his superior knowledge as to the best sources of information, whenever they fail to trace out what is wanted. in any small library, he should be always accessible, at or near the place where people are accustomed to have their wants for books or information supplied: and the public resorting to the library will thus come not only to rely upon him for aid in their intellectual researches, but to appreciate and respect him for the wide extent of his knowledge, and to consider him, in time, an indispensable guide, if not leader, in the community. his reputation, in fact, will depend upon the extent to which he has been able to help others, as well as upon the number of people whom he has thus aided. in a very high sense, the true librarian is an educator; his school is as large as the town in which his library is situated. very few people in that town know what he is always presumed to know,--namely--to what books to go to get answers to the questions they want answered. in supplying continually the means of answering these countless questions, the library becomes actually a popular university, in which the librarian is the professor, the tuition is free, and the course is optional, both as to study and as to time. most persons who come to make any investigation in a public library require a good deal of assistance. for example, a reader is in need of the latest information as to the amount of steel and iron made in this country, and what state produces these important manufactures. he has not the faintest idea where to look for the information, except that it may be in the census, but the census is nine years old, and he wants recent facts. it is vain to turn him over to the cyclopaedias, for there is not one whose information upon such statistics comes anywhere near up to date. you have to put before him a pamphlet annual, published by the american iron and steel association, which contains exactly what he wants; and no other source of information does contain it. another inquirer seeks to know how to treat some disease. in such cases, of course, the librarian should not go farther than to put before the reader a work on domestic medicine, for it is not his function to deal in recommendations of this, that, or the other method of treatment, any more than it is to give legal opinions, if asked--although he may have studied law. so, if the reader wants to know about the religious tenets of the presbyterians, or the mormons, or the buddhists, or the doctrines of the catholic church, and asks the librarian's opinion about any controverted question of belief, he is to be answered only by the statement that the library is there to supply information, not opinions, and then pointed to the religious cyclopaedias, which give full summaries of all the sects. he may frequently be asked for information on a subject which he knows nothing about; and i have heard a librarian declare, that he often found himself able to give fuller and better information on a subject of which he was previously ignorant, than upon one he had long been familiar with. the reason was that in the one case he had freshly looked up all the authorities, and put them before the reader, while in the other, giving the references from a memory, more or less imperfect, he had overlooked some of the most important means of information. the constant exercise of the habit of supplying helps to readers is a splendid intellectual school for the librarian himself. through it, his memory is quickened and consequently improved, (as every faculty is by use) his habits of mental classification and analysis are formed or strengthened, and his mind is kept on the alert to utilize the whole arsenal of the knowledge he has already acquired, or to acquire new knowledge. another very important benefit derived by the librarian from his constantly recurring attention to the calls of readers for aid, is the suggestion thereby furnished of the deficiencies in the collection in his charge. this will be a continual reminder to him, of what he most needs, namely, how to equip the library with the best and most recent sources of information in every field of inquiry. whether the library be a large or a small one, its deficiencies in some directions are sure to be very considerable: and these gaps are more conspicuously revealed in trying to supply readers with the means of making what may be termed an exhaustive research upon a given subject, than in any other way. you find, for example, in looking up your authorities in what has come to be called egyptology, that while you have wilkinson's ancient egypt, and lane's modern egyptians, both of which are very valuable works, you have not the more modern books of brugsch-bey, or of a. h. sayce, or of maspero. you may also find out, by mingling freely with a good part of the readers, what subjects are most frequently looked into or inquired about, and you can thus secure valuable information as to the directions in which the library most needs strengthening. thus, in a community largely made up of people connected with manufacturing interests, the inquiries are liable to be much concerned with the mechanic arts; and you would therefore naturally seek to acquire a liberal selection of the best and latest works in technical science, or the useful arts. if you have, on the other hand, very few inquiries, indeed, for theological works, you take it as some evidence that that department of the collection needs little enlargement, and you may devote your funds in other directions. then too, the great value of popularising the library by the hearty interest shown by the librarian in the wants of the people can hardly be over-rated. this interest, being a perennial one, and continued through a series of years, the number of citizens and their families assisted will be constantly on the increase, and the public opinion of the town will come in time, to regard the library as a great popular necessity. hence, if it is an institution supported in whole or in part by town or municipal funds, its claims to liberal consideration will be immeasurably strengthened. if an enlargement of room for the books, or even a new library building comes to be needed, its chances for securing the funds requisite will be excellent. if a more liberal supply of new books, or an extended range of older ones of great value is reported by the librarian as wanted to increase the usefulness of the library, the authorities will more cheerfully consider the claim. and if it is proposed that additional and competent assistance shall be given to the librarian, or that he should be more liberally compensated for his highly useful and important labors, that, too, may be accomplished--especially if it has come to be recognized that by his wide knowledge, and skilful management, and helpful devotion to the service of the reading public, he has rendered himself indispensable. in the supply of information desired by readers, it is better to leave them to their own search, once you have put before them the proper authorities, than to spend your time in turning for them to the volume and page. this, for two reasons--first, it leaves your own time free to help other readers, or to attend to the ever-waiting library work; and, secondly, it induces habits of research and self-help on the part of the reader. it is enough for the librarian to act as an intelligent guide-post, to point the way; to travel the road is the business of the reader himself. therefore, let the visitor in quest of a quotation, look it out in the index of the volumes you put before him. if he fails to find it, it will then be time for you to intervene, and lend the aid of your more practiced eye, and superior knowledge of how to search; or else, let the reader look for it in some more copious anthology, which you may put before him. there are multitudes of inquiries for the authors of poems, which are in no sense "familiar quotations," nor even select quotations, but which are merely common-place sentiments expressed in language quite unpoetic,--and not the work of any notable writer at all. they are either the production of some utterly obscure author of a volume of verse, quite unknown to fame, or, still more probably, the half-remembered verses of some anonymous contributor to the poet's corner of the newspaper or magazine. in such cases, where you see no poetic beauty or imaginative power in the lines, it is well to inform the inquirer at once that you do not think them the production of any noted writer, and thus end the fruitless search for memorizing what is not at all memorable. what may strike uncultivated readers as beautiful, may be set down as trash, by a mind that has been fed upon the masterpieces of poetry. not that the librarian is to assume the air of an oracle or a censor, (something to be in all circumstances avoided) or to pronounce positive judgment upon what is submitted: he should inform any admiring reader of a passage not referred to in any of the anthologies, and not possessing apparent poetic merit, that he believes the author is unknown to fame. that should be sufficient for any reasonably disposed reader, who, after search duly completed, will go away answered, if not satisfied. i gave some instances of the singular variety of questions asked of a librarian. let me add one, reported by mr. robert harrison, of the london library, as asked of him by william m. thackeray. the distinguished author of esmond and the virginians wanted a book that would tell of general wolfe, the hero of quebec. "i don't want to know about his battles", said the novelist. "i can get all that from the histories. i want something that will tell me the color of the breeches he wore." after due search, the librarian was obliged to confess that there was no such book. a librarian is likely to be constantly in a position to aid the uninformed reader how to use the books of reference which every public library contains. the young person who is new to the habit of investigation, or the adult who has never learned the method of finding things, needs to be shown how to use even so simple a thing as an index. do not be impatient with his ignorance, although you may find him fumbling over the pages in the body of the book in vain, to find what you, with your acquired knowledge of indexes and their use, can find in half a minute or less. practice alone can make one perfect in the art of search and speedy finding. the tyro who tries your patience this year, will very likely become an expert reader the next. wide as is the domain of ignorance, there are few among those intelligent enough to resort to a library at all, who cannot learn. you will find some who come to the library so unskilled, that they will turn over the leaves even of an index, in a blind, hap-hazard way, evidently at a loss how to use it. these must be instructed first, that the index is arranged just like a dictionary, in the alphabetical order of the names or subjects treated, and secondly, that after finding the word they seek in it, they must turn to the page indicated by the figure attached to that word. this is the very primer of learning in the use of a library, but the library in any town, used as it is by many boys and girls of all ages, has to be a primary school for beginners, as well as a university for advanced students. despise not the day of small things, however you may find it more agreeable to be occupied with great ones. on the other hand, you will find at the other extreme of intelligence, among your clientage of readers, those who are completely familiar with books and their uses. there are some readers frequenting public libraries, who not only do not need assistance themselves, but who are fully competent to instruct the librarian. in meeting the calls of such skilled readers, who always know what they require, it is never good policy to obtrude advice or suggestion, but simply to supply what they call for. you will readily recognize and discriminate such experts from the mass of readers, if you have good discernment. sometimes they are quite as sensitive as they are intelligent, and it may annoy them to have offered them books they do not want, in the absence of what they require. an officious, or super-serviceable librarian or assistant, may sometimes prejudice such a reader by proffering help which he does not want, instead of waiting for his own call or occasion. let us look at a few examples of the numerous calls at a popular library. for example, a reader asks to see a book, giving an account of the marriage of the adriatic. you know that this concerns the history of venice and its doges, and you turn to various books on venice, and its history, until you find a description of the strange festival. it may be, and probably is the case, that the books, like most descriptive works and narratives of travellers, are without index. this is a disability in the use of books which you must continually encounter, since multitudes of volumes, old and new, are sent out without a vestige of an index to their contents. some writers have urged that a law should be made refusing copyright to the author of any book who failed to provide it with an index; a requirement highly desirable, but also highly impracticable. yet you will find in most books, a division of the contents into chapters, and in the beginning of the volume a table of the contents of each chapter, giving its leading topics. this is a substitute for an index, although (not being arranged in alphabetical order) it is far less useful than that time-saving aid to research. but you have to learn to take advantage of even poor and inferior helps, when you cannot have the best, (as a poor guide is better than no guide at all, unless it misguides,) and so you run your eye quickly through the table of contents to find what you seek. in the case supposed, of the ceremony at venice, you will be aided in the search by having in mind that the catch-words involved are "adriatic," and "doge," and as these begin with capital letters, which stand out, as it were, from the monotonous "lower case" type (as printers call all the letters that are not capitals) your search will be much abridged by omitting to read through all the sentences of your table of contents, and seizing only the passage or passages where "doge," or "adriatic," may occur. this remark will apply as well to numerous other searches which you will have to make in books. the table of contents will commonly take note of all the more salient topics that are treated in the book, whether of persons, of places, of notable scenes, historic events, etc., and so will aid you in finding what you seek. in the last resort only, in the books whose table of contents fails you, will you have to turn the leaves page by page, which, while not equivalent to reading the book through, is a time-consuming business. of course no librarian can devote hours of his precious time to searches in such detail for readers. they are to be supplied with the books likely to contain what they are in search of, and left to seek it in their own way, with such hints and cautions as to saving time by taking the shortest road, as the experience of the librarian enables him to supply. the suggestions here given are not needed by scholarly readers, but are the fruits of long experience in searching books for what they contain. again, let us take the case of a call by a reader who happens to be a decorative painter, for patterns which may furnish him hints in finishing an interior of a house. of course he wants color--that is, not theory only, but illustration, or practical examples. so you put before him owen jones's grammar of ornament, or racinet's _l'ornement polychrome_, both illustrated with many beautiful designs in color, which he is delighted to find. another reader is anxious to see a picture of "st. george and the dragon." if you have the "museum of painting and sculpture," in volumes, or champlin's "cyclopaedia of painters and painting," a dictionary of art in four volumes, you find it in either work, in the alphabet, under "st. george," and his want is satisfied. a youngster wants to know how to build a boat, and you find him folkard on boats, or frazar's sail-boats, which describe and figure various styles of water-craft. perhaps an inquisitive reader wants to find out all about the families of the various languages, and what is known of their origin, and you supply him with w. d. whitney's "life and growth of language," or max müller's "science of language," either of which furnishes full information. another inquirer seeks for information about the aggregate debts of nations. you give him the great quarto volume of the last census on wealth and indebtedness, or for still later information the statesman's year book for , or the almanach de gotha for the current year, both of which contain the comparative debts of nations at the latest dates. the inquirer who seeks to know the rates of wages paid for all kinds of labor in a series of several years, can be supplied with the elaborate report on labor and wages for fifty-two years, published by the u. s. government in , in four volumes. another reader wishes, we will suppose, to hunt up the drawings of all patents that have been issued on type-writers, and type-writing inventions. you put before him the many indexes to the patent specifications and patent office gazette; he makes out from these his list of volumes wanted, which are at once supplied, and he falls to work on his long, but to him interesting job. a reader who has seen in the library or elsewhere a book he would much like to own, but cannot find a copy in town, wants to know what it will cost: you turn to your american or foreign catalogue, covering the year of publication, and give him not only the price, but the publisher's name from whom he can order it, and he goes on his way rejoicing. an artist engaged upon a painting in which he wishes to introduce a deer, or a group of rabbits, or an american eagle, or a peacock, asks for an accurate picture of the bird or animal wanted. you put before him j. s. kingsley's riverside natural history, in six volumes, and his desire is satisfied. in dealing with books of reference, there will often be found very important discrepancies of statement, different works giving different dates, for example, for the same event in history or biography. next to a bible and a dictionary of language, there is no book, perhaps, more common than a biographical dictionary. our interest in our fellow-men is perennial; and we seek to know not only their characteristics, and the distinguishing events of their lives, but also the time of their birth into the world and their exit from it. this is a species of statistics upon which one naturally expects certainty, since no person eminent enough to be recorded at all is likely to have the epoch of his death, at least, unremarked. yet the seeker after exact information in the biographical dictionaries will find, if he extends his quest among various authorities, that he is afloat on a sea of uncertainties. not only can he not find out the date of decease of some famous navigators, like sir john franklin and la perouse, who sailed into unexplored regions of the globe, and were never heard of more, but the men who died at home, in the midst of friends and families, are frequently recorded as deceased at dates so discrepant that no ingenuity can reconcile them. in haydn's dictionary of dates, sir henry havelock was said to have died november th, , while maunder's treasury of biography gives november st, the london almanac, november th, and the life of havelock, by his brother-in-law, november th. here are four distinct dates of death given, by authorities apparently equally accredited, to a celebrated general, who died within forty years of our own time. of the death of the notorious robespierre, guillotined in , we find in chalmers' biographical dictionary that he died july th, in rees's cyclopaedia, july th, and in alison's history of europe, july th. doubtless it is some comfort to reflect, in view of his many crimes, that the bloody tyrant of the jacobins is really dead, irrespective of the date, about which biographers may dispute. of the english mechanician joseph bramah, inventor of the bramah lock, we learn from the english cyclopaedia, that he died in , and from rose's biographical dictionary, that he died in . now, although a large share of the errors and discrepancies that abound in biographical dictionaries and other books of reference may be accounted for by misprints, others by reckoning old style instead of new, and many more by carelessness of writers and transcribers, it is plain that all the variations cannot be thus accounted for. nothing is more common in printing offices than to find a figure inverted serving as a , a for a , or a for an , while , , and o, are frequently interchanged. in such cases, a keen-eyed proof-reader may not always be present to prevent the falsification of history; and it is a fact, not sufficiently recognized, that to the untiring vigilance, intelligence, and hard, conscientious labors of proof-readers, the world owes a deeper debt of gratitude than it does to many a famous maker of books. it is easy enough to make books, heaven knows, but to make them correct, "_hic labor, hoc opus est_." a high authority in encyclopaedical lore tells us that the best accredited authorities are at odds with regard to the birth or death of individuals in the enormous ratio of from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of the whole number in the biographical dictionaries. the portuguese poet camoens is said by some authorities to have been born in , and by others in ; a discrepancy of eight years. chateaubriand is declared by the english cyclopaedia to have been born september th, ; september th, , by the nouvelle biographie générale of dr. hoefer; and september th, , by the conversations-lexicon. of course it is clear that all these authorities cannot be right; but which of the three is so, is matter of extreme doubt, leaving the student of facts perplexed and uncertain at the very point where certainty is not only most important, but most confidently expected. of another kind are the errors that sometimes creep into works of reference of high credit, by accepting too confidently statements publicly made. in one edition of the dictionary of congress a certain honorable member from pennsylvania, in uncommonly robust health, was astonished to find himself recorded as having died of the national hotel disease, contracted at washington in . in this case, the editor of the work was a victim of too much confidence in the newspapers. in the congressional directory, where brief biographies of congressmen are given, one distinguished member was printed as having been elected to congress at a time which, taken in connection with his birth-date in the same paragraph, made him precisely one year old when he took his seat in congress. even in reporting the contents of public and private libraries, exaggeration holds sway. the library of george the fourth, inherited by that graceless ignoramus from a book-collecting father, and presented to the british nation with ostentatious liberality only after he had failed to sell it to russia, was said in the publications of those times to contain about , volumes. but an actual enumeration when the books were lodged in the king's library at the british museum, where they have ever since remained, showed that there were only , volumes, being but little more than half the reported number. many libraries, public and private, are equally over-estimated. it is so much easier to guess than to count, and the stern test of arithmetic is too seldom applied, notwithstanding the fact that , volumes can easily be counted in a day by a single person, and so on in the same proportion. here, as in the statistics of population, the same proverb holds good, that the unknown is always the magnificent, and on the surface of the globe we inhabit, the unexplored country is always the most marvellous, since the world began. these discrepancies in authorities, and exaggerations of writers, are not referred to for the purpose of casting doubt upon all published history, but only to point out that we cannot trust implicitly to what we find in books. bearing in mind always, that accuracy is perhaps the rarest of human qualities, we should hold our judgment in reserve upon controverted statements, trusting no writer implicitly, unless sustained by original authorities. when asked to recommend the best book upon any subject, do not too confidently assert the merits of the one you may think the best, but say simply that it is well accredited, or very popular. it is not always safe to recommend books, and the librarian does well to speak with proper reservations as to most of them, and to recommend only what are well known to him to be good, by his own intimate acquaintance with them, or, which is the surest test of all, by the verdicts of critical reviews, or by the constant reprinting of them in many successive years. it was the well-nigh unanimous report at a conference of american librarians, upon the subject of "aids to readers", that "nothing can take the place of an intelligent and obliging assistant at the desk." this was after a thorough canvass of the relative merits of the various reference books and helps to readers in book form. not only the casual reader, and the reader with a purpose may be constantly aided by the librarian's knowledge, and larger experience in the art of finding things, but teachers in the schools, clergymen preparing discourses, and every one seeking to know anything, should find the librarian a living catalogue. there is nothing so effective in the world as individual effort. chapter . access to library shelves. the matter of free or unrestricted access to the books on the shelves is a vexed question in libraries. open and unprotected shelves, either in alcoves or the main reading room, while they appear to be a boon to readers, who can thus browse at will through the literary pastures, and turn over volumes at their pleasure, furnish by no means good security for the books. some of the smaller public libraries protect their books from access by glass doors in front of the shelves, which form also a partial protection against dust. others again, use wire screen doors, opened, like the others, by lock and key when books are wanted. both of these arrangements give to readers the advantage of reading the titles on the backs of most of the books in the library, while protecting them from being handled, disarranged, or removed. but they are also open to the objection that they obstruct the prompt service of the books, by just the amount of time it takes to open the doors or screens, and close them again. this trouble and delay may overbalance the supposed advantages. certainly they must do so in all large libraries, where the frequentation is great, and where every moment's delay in the book service works disadvantage to numerous readers. while private libraries, or quite small public ones, can indulge in the luxury of glass cases, no extensive collection can be managed with the requisite promptitude under their obstructions. but how to avoid the indiscriminate and usually careless handling of the books on shelves, by the people frequenting the library, and still extend to readers prompt and full service of all the books they wish to consult on any subject, is a problem. in a few of the great libraries, where that modern improvement, the stack system, prevails, the difficulty is solved by the storing of the books in the outside repositories, or iron book-stacks to which readers are not admitted. in this case the reading room is only for books in use by those frequenting it, or is supplied with a selection of reference books simply, the stacks being drawn upon for all the rest. this of course secures the books both from misplacement and from pillage. in smaller libraries which have no stack system (and this includes by far the greater number) a variety of treatment prevails. most of them are unprovided with any effective means of guarding the books on the shelves from handling. the result is great insecurity, and inevitable misplacement of books, amounting often to confusion and chaos on the shelves, unless corrected by much daily re-arrangement by the librarian or assistants. this consumes much valuable time, which ought to be devoted to other pressing duties. one remedy is to guard the shelves by a railing of some kind, which cannot be passed, except at the gates or passage-ways provided for the attendants. this simple provision will protect the orderly arrangement as well as the safety of the library--two objects both of cardinal importance. absolutely free access to all the shelves means, sooner or later, loss to the library. and the books most certain to be taken or mutilated are those which it is costly, or difficult, or in some cases, impossible to replace. the chances of abstracting engravings from books are much greater in the shadow of the shelves, than in the open reading-room, under the eyes of many. in any library but the smaller ones, the difficulties and dangers of unrestricted handling of all the books by the public will be developed in the direct ratio of the size of the library. nor will it do to admit one class of readers to the shelves, and exclude others. it often happens that persons claiming to have special literary or scientific objects, and who profess that they cannot get along at all by having books brought to them, are favored in their wish to go to the shelves, while others are disfavored. this raises at once the just complaint that invidious distinctions are made. the only safe rule to follow is that of universal free access, or impartial and uniform exclusion from the shelves. in the latter case, no one can complain, especially when made aware that he can have all the works on a given subject brought to his seat in a brief time, and can work upon them to much greater comfort and advantage, seated where there is good light and ample room, than if standing up in the shadow of the shelves to pursue his researches. it is also to be considered that such disarrangement of books as inevitably follows free admission to the shelves deprives the very persons who claim this privilege, of finding what they seek, until a complete replacement takes place, throughout the library, and this is necessarily a work of time. that it involves much more time and consequent delay than is occasioned by the re-shelving of books used in a day, is apparent when we consider that in the latter case, only the number of volumes actually withdrawn from shelves by the library attendants have to be replaced, and that these are in conveniently assorted piles all ready to go to their respective shelves; while in the other case, the displacement is made by many hands, most of them careless of any convenience but their own, and moreover, the disarranged books are, or are liable to be, scattered on the wrong shelves, thus throwing the entire library into disorder, requiring great pains, knowledge, and time to repair. in any well-regulated library, the absence of any book from its place can almost always be accounted for. thus it is either-- . in the reading room, in use; or . charged out to a borrower; or . sent to the binder for rebinding, or repair; or . reserved for some reader's use; or . in temporary use by a cataloguer, or some other library assistant; or . among the books not yet re-shelved from recent use. now each of these is a legitimate reason for the absence of any book not found in its place. by search under each of these heads, _seriatim_, aided by the memory of librarian and assistants, the missing volume should be readily located, and soon availed of for use. but in the case of books misplaced by readers, no such tracing out of the whereabouts of any volume is effectual, for the reason that the book may have been (and probably is) put on some shelf where it does not belong. and the question, where in an extensive collection, a book-hunter admitted to freely range over all the shelves, and a stranger to the minute classification of books, has misplaced the missing volumes, is an insoluble problem, except by hunting over or handling the entire library. in this close practical view of the case we have to add to the long list of the enemies of books, formerly enumerated, those who demand a right to browse (as they term it) among the shelves of a public library, and who displace the books they take down to gratify, it may be, only an idle curiosity. their offence consists, not in being anxious to see the books, but in preventing others from seeing them, by segregating them where neither librarian nor assistants may be able to find them, when called for. the whole question is summed up in the statement that the ability to produce library books when called for, depends strictly upon keeping them in their proper place: and this is quite incompatible with promiscuous handling upon the shelves. the preservation of order is alike in the interest of the reading public, of the librarian and his assistants, and of the very persons who complain of it as depriving them of library facilities. if library facilities consist in rendering the books in it unfindable, and therefore unavailable to any reader, then the argument for free range of the shelves arrives at a _reductio ad absurdum_. the true library facilities consist in a classification and a catalogue which arrange the books in systematic order, and keep them there, save when called into use. thus, and thus only, can those who resort to a public library for actual research, be assured of finding what they want, just when they want it. the time saved to all readers by the sure and steady preservation of an orderly arrangement of the books, is simply incalculable. multiply the number of volumes out of place by the number of readers who call for them, and you have some idea of the mischief that may be done through the carelessness of a few favored readers, to the whole community of scholars. of course the considerations here set forth pre-suppose an active and intelligent librarian, and zealous and willing attendants, all ever ready to aid the researches of readers by the most prompt and helpful suggestions, and by dispatch in placing before them what they most need. the one cardinal design of a library--to supply the largest amount of information in the shortest time, is subverted by any disorganizing scheme. if the library be administered on the just principle of "the greatest good to the greatest number," then such individual favoritism should never be allowed. it may, indeed, be claimed that there is no rule without some valid exceptions; but these exceptions should never be permitted to defeat the cardinal object of the rule--which is to keep every book strictly in its own place. let the exception be confined to allowing an occasional inspection of the shelves in the company of a library attendant, and there will be no trouble. but there is another danger, aside from the misplacement of books. experience has shown that thefts or mutilations of books have been numerous, in direct proportion to the extension of freedom and opportunity to those frequenting the library. literary men and book-lovers are frequently book-collectors also; and the temptation to take what is often too loosely considered public property is sometimes yielded to by persons whose character and standing may render them the least suspected. in one of the largest lending libraries in this country, the purloining of books had been carried so far, that the authorities had to provide a wire fence all around the reading room, to keep the readers from access to the shelves. the result was soon seen in the reduction of the number of books stolen from volumes to volumes a year. after several years' experience of the astor library in opening its alcoves to readers (amounting to practical free admission to the shelves to all calling themselves special students) the losses and mutilations of books became so serious, that alcove admissions have been greatly curtailed. at the conference of librarians in london, in , the subject of admission or non-admission to the shelves was discussed with the result that opinions were preponderantly adverse to the free range of the library by readers. it was pointed out that libraries are established and maintained at great cost for serious purposes of reading and study, and that these ends are best subserved by systematic service at a common centre--not by letting the readers scatter themselves about the library shelves. to one speaker who held that every one in a free public library had the right to go to the shelves, and choose his books for himself, it was answered that this was equivalent to saying that it is the idler's right to stroll about in every place devoted to a special business, and interrupt that business at his pleasure. at the international conference of , an able defence of open shelves was presented, claiming that it saves much librarians' time in finding books, if readers are allowed to find them for themselves; that thefts and mutilations are inconsiderable; that it makes an appeal to the honor of people to respect the books; that the open shelf system does better educational work; that it is economical by requiring fewer library attendants; that it has grown steadily in favor in america, and that it gives the people the same right in the library which is their own, as the individual has in his own. on the other hand, it was urged that the arguments for open shelves were all arguments for anarchy; that the readers who want to rummage about for what they want lack proper discipline of the mind; that the number of books lost under it has been very large; that librarians are custodians and conservers, as well as dispensers of books; that all books misplaced are practically lost to the library for the time being; that the open shelf system requires far more space, and is more expensive; and that, however desirable, its general adoption is utterly impracticable. the practice of libraries in this particular of administration differs widely, as do the opinions of librarians regarding it. in most colleges and universities free access is allowed; and in some public free libraries, both east and west, the readers are allowed to handle the books on the shelves. this is comparatively safe in the smaller town libraries, where the books are in compact shape, and the unavoidable misplacement can be corrected daily in no long time. the experience of "open shelves" in such collections has been so favorable that their librarians have testified that the losses were insignificant when compared with the great public convenience resulting. but the difficulty and confusion arising from free handling of the books on shelves increases in the direct ratio of the size of the library, until, in an extensive collection, it reaches an intolerable result. what is encountered continually in enforcing the rule of exclusion from shelves is the almost universal conceit that some reader is entitled to exemption from such a rule. explain to him never so courteously that experience has proved that a library is thrown into confusion by such admission; that while he may be careful to replace every book handled in the same spot, nearly all readers are careless, and he will insist that he is the exception, and that he is always careful. that is human nature, the world over--to believe that one can do things better than any one else. but if such importunities prevail, the chances are that books will be misplaced by the very literary expert who has solemnly asserted his infallibility. on the whole, open shelves may be viewed as an open question. it may be best for small libraries, as to all the books, and for all libraries as to some classes of books. but make it general, and order and arrangement are at an end, while chaos takes the place of cosmos. the real student is better served by the knowledge and aid of the librarian, thus saving his time for study, than he can be by ranging about dark shelves to find, among multitudes of books he does not want, the ones that he actually does want. the business of the librarian, and his highest use, is to bring the resources of the library to the reader. if this takes a hundred or more volumes a day, he is to have them; but to give him the right to throw a library into confusion by "browsing around," is to sacrifice the rights of the public to prompt service, to the whim of one man. those who think that "browsing" is an education should reflect that it is like any other wandering employment, fatal to fixity of purpose. like desultory reading of infinite periodicals, it tends rather to dissipate the time and the attention than to inform and strengthen the mind. in libraries of wide circulation in america, many have open shelves, and many more free access to certain classes of books. the newark free library opens all departments except fiction; others open fiction and current literature only. some libraries, notably in england, have a "safe-guarded" open-shelf system, by which the public are given free range inside the library, while the librarians take post at the outside railing, to charge books drawn, and check off depredations. this method may be styled "every one his own librarian," and is claimed by its originators to work well. at the conference of the american library association in , after discussion, votes were taken, showing librarians in favor of free access to shelves for small libraries, as against only for unrestricted access in large libraries. the debate brought out curious and instructive facts as to losses of books where free range is allowed. the denver public library lost in one year volumes; the buffalo public library books in seventeen months; the minneapolis, in a year; and the st. louis public library , volumes in two years, out of "a very limited open shelf collection." one librarian, estimating the loss of books at $ , worth in two years, said the library board were perfectly satisfied, and that "unless we lose $ , worth of books a year, the open-shelf system pays in its saving of the expenses of attendance." it does not appear to have occurred to them that a public library owes anything to the public morality, nor that a library losing its books by the thousand, to save the cost of proper management, may be holding out a premium to wholesale robbery. there is another precaution essential to be observed regarding the more costly and rare possessions of the library. such books should not be placed upon the shelves with the ordinary books of the collection, but provided for in a repository under lock and key. in a large library, where many hundred volumes of books of especial rarity and value are to be found, a separate room should always exist for this class of books. they will properly include ( ) incunabula, or early printed books; ( ) manuscripts, or unique specimens, such as collections of autographs of notable people; ( ) illuminated books, usually written on vellum, or printed in color; ( ) early and rare americana, or books of american discovery, history, etc., which are scarce and difficult to replace; ( ) any books known to be out of print; and ( ) many costly illustrated works which should be kept apart for only occasional inspection by readers. where no separate room exists for safe custody of such treasures, they should be provided with a locked book-case or cases, according to their number. when any of these reserved books are called for, they should be supplied to readers under special injunctions of careful handling. neglect of precaution may at any time be the means of losing to the library a precious volume. it is easy for an unknown reader who calls for such a rare or costly work, to sign his ticket with a false name, and slip the book under his coat when unobserved, and so leave the library unchallenged. but the librarian or assistant who supplies the book, if put on his guard by having to fetch it from a locked repository, should keep the reader under observation, unless well known, until the volume is safely returned. designing and dishonest persons are ever hovering about public libraries, and some of the most dangerous among them are men who know the value of books. this class of reserved books should not be given out in circulation, under any circumstances. not only are they subject to injury by being handled in households where there are children or careless persons, who soil or deface them, but they are exposed to the continual peril of fire, and consequent loss to the library. there are often books among these rarities, which money cannot replace, because no copies can be found when wanted. in the library of congress, there is a very salutary safe-guard thrown around the most valuable books in the form of a library regulation which provides that no manuscript whatever, and no printed book of special rarity and value shall be taken out of the library by any person. this restriction of course applies to members of congress, as well as to those officials who have the legal right to draw books from the library. chapter . the faculty of memory. to every reader nothing can be more important than that faculty of the mind which we call memory. the retentive memory instinctively stores up the facts, ideas, imagery, and often the very language found in books, so clearly that they become available at any moment in after life. the tenacity of this hold upon the intellectual treasures which books contain depends largely upon the strength of the impression made upon the mind when reading. and this, in turn, depends much upon the force, clearness and beauty of the author's style or expression. a crude, or feeble, or wordy, redundant statement makes little impression, while a terse, clear, well-balanced sentence fixes the attention, and so fastens itself in the memory. hence the books which are best remembered will be those which are the best written. great as is the power of thought, we are often obliged to confess that the power of expression is greater still. when the substance and the style of any writing concur to make a harmonious and strong impression on the reader's mind, the writer has achieved success. all our study of literature tends to confirm the conviction of the supreme importance of an effective style. we must set down a good memory as a cardinal qualification of the librarian. this faculty of the mind, in fact, is more important to him than to the members of any other profession whatever, because it is more incessantly drawn upon. every hour in the day, and sometimes every minute in the hour, he has to recall the names of certain books, the authors of the same, including both their surnames and christian or forenames, the subjects principally treated in them, the words of some proverb or quotation, or elegant extract in poetry or prose, the period of time of an author or other noted person, the standard measurements and weights in use, with their equivalents, the moneys of foreign nations and their american values, the time of certain notable events in history, whether foreign or american, ancient or modern, the names and succession of rulers, the prices of many books, the rules observed in the catalogue, both of authors and subjects, the names and schools of great artists, with their period, the meaning in various foreign languages of certain words, the geographical location of any place on the earth's surface, the region of the library in which any book is located--and, in short, an infinitude of items of information which he wants to know out of hand, for his own use, or in aid of library readers or assistants. the immense variety of these drafts upon his memory seldom perplexes one who is well endowed with a natural gift in that direction. in fact, it seems actually true of such minds, that the more numerous the calls upon the memory, the more ready is the response. the metaphysicians have spent many words in attempting to define the various qualities of the mind, and to account for a strong or a weak memory; but after all is said, we find that the surprising difference between different memories is unaccounted for; as unaccountable, indeed, as what differences the man of genius from the mere plodder. the principle of association of ideas is doubtless the leading element in a memory which is not merely verbal. we associate in our minds, almost instinctively, ideas of time, or space, or persons, or events, and these connect or compare one with another, so that what we want is called up or recalled in memory, by a train of endless suggestion. we all have this kind of memory, which may be termed the rational or ideal, as distinguished from the verbal and the local memory. the verbal memory is that which retains in the mind, and reproduces at will what has been said in our hearing by others, or what we have read which has made a marked impression upon us. thus, some persons can repeat with almost exact accuracy, every word of a long conversation held with another. others can repeat whole poems, or long passages in prose from favorite authors, after reading them over two or three times, and can retain them perfectly in memory for half a century or more. there have even been persons to whom one single reading of any production was sufficient to enable them to repeat it _verbatim_. these instances of a great verbal memory are by no means rare, although some of them appear almost incredible. john locke tells us of the french philosopher pascal, that he never forgot anything of what he had done, said, or thought, in any part of his natural life. and the same thing is recorded of that great scholar of holland, hugo grotius. the mathematician euler could repeat the aeneid of virgil from beginning to end, containing nearly nine thousand lines. mozart, upon hearing the _miserere_ of allegri played in the sistine chapel at rome, only once, went to his hotel, and wrote it all down from memory, note for note. cardinal mezzofanti both wrote and spoke thirty languages, and was quite familiar with more than a hundred. he said that if he once heard the meaning of a word in any language, he never forgot it. yet he was of the opinion, that although he had twenty words for one idea, it was better to have twenty ideas for one word; which is no doubt true, so far as real intellectual culture is concerned. lord macaulay, who had a phenomenal memory, said that if all the copies of milton's paradise lost were to be destroyed, he could reproduce the book complete, from memory. in early life he was a great admirer of walter scott's poetry, and especially the "lay of the last minstrel", and could repeat the whole of that long poem, more than six hundred lines, from memory. and at the age of fifty-seven he records--"i walked in the portico, and learned by heart the noble fourth act of the merchant of venice. there are four hundred lines. i made myself perfect master of the whole in two hours." it was said of him that every incident he heard of, and every page he read, "assumed in his mind a concrete spectral form." but the memory for names and words has been sometimes called the lowest form of memory. persons of defective or impaired intellect frequently have strong and retentive verbal memories. mrs. somerville records the case of an idiot who could repeat a whole sermon _verbatim_, after once hearing it, but who was stupid and ignorant as to every thing else. and there are many instances in the books to the same effect. another kind of memory may be called, for want of a better name, the local memory. a person who has this strongly developed, if he once goes to a place, whether a room, or a street in a city, or a road in any part of the country, knows the way again, and can find it by instinct ever after. in the same way any one gifted with this almost unerring sense of locality, can find any book on any shelf in any part of a library where he has once been. he knows, in like manner, on which side of the page he saw any given passage in a book, which impressed him at the time, although he may never have had the volume in his hand more than once. he may not remember the number of the page, but he is sure of his recollection that it was the left or the right hand one, as the case may be, and this knowledge will abridge his labor and time in finding it again by just one half. this local memory is invaluable to a librarian or an assistant in shortening the labor of finding things. if you have a good local memory, you can, in no long time, come to dispense with the catalogue and its shelf-marks or classification marks, almost entirely, in finding your books. although this special gift of memory--the sense of locality--is unquestionably a lower faculty of the mind than some others named, and although there are illiterate persons who can readily find and produce any books in a library which have often passed through their hands, yet it is a faculty by no means to be despised. it is one of the labor-saving, time-saving gifts, which should be welcomed by every librarian. the time saved from searching the catalogues for location-marks of the outside of books, will enable him to make many a research in their inside. this faculty, of course, is indefinitely strengthened and improved by use--and the same is true of the other branches of the sense which we call memory. the oftener you have been to any place, the better you know the way. the more frequently you have found and produced a given book from its proper receptacle, the easier and the quicker will be your finding it again. another faculty or phase of memory is found in the ability to call up the impression made by any object once seen by the eye, so as to reproduce it accurately in speech or writing. this may be termed the intuitive memory. there are many applications or illustrations of this faculty. thus, for example, you see a book on some shelf in your library. you take in its size, its binding, both the material and the color, and its title as lettered on the back. all this you absorb with one glance of the eye. you remember it by the principle of association--that is, you associate with that particular book, in connection with its title, a certain dimension, color, and style of binding. now, when you have occasion to look up that special volume again, you not only go, aided by your memory of locality, to the very section and shelf of the library where it belongs, but you take with you instinctively, your memory or mental image of the book's appearance. thus, you perhaps distinctly remember ( ) that it was an octavo, and your eye in glancing along the shelf where it belongs, rejects intuitively all the duodecimos or books of lesser size, to come to the octavos. ( ) then you also remember that it was bound in leather, consequently you pass quickly by all the cloth bound volumes on the shelf. ( ) in the third place you know that its color was red; and you pay no attention whatever to books of any other color, but quickly seize your red leather-bound octavo, and bear it off to the reading-room in triumph. of course there are circumstances where this quick operation of the faculties of memory and intuition combined, would not be so easy. for example, all the books (or nearly all) on a given shelf might be octavos; or they might all be leather-bound; or a majority of them with red backs; and the presence of one or more of these conditions would eliminate one or more of the facilities for most rapidly picking out the book wanted. but take a pile of books, we will say returned by many readers, on the library counter. you are searching among them for a particular volume that is again wanted. there is no order or arrangement of the volumes, but you distinctly remember, from having handled it, its size both as to height and thickness, its color, and how it was bound. you know it was a thin mo. in green cloth binding. do you, in your search, take up every book in that mass, to scrutinize its title, and see if it is the one you seek? by no means. you quickly thrust aside, one by one, or by the half-dozen, all the volumes which are not green, cloth-bound, thin duodecimos, without so much as glancing at them. your special volume is quickly found among hundreds of volumes, and your faculty of memory and intuition has saved you perhaps a quarter of an hour of valuable time, which, without that faculty, might have been wasted in search. again, another circumstance which might intervene to diminish the frequency of application of the memory referred to, as to the physical features or appearance of a book sought for, is where the shelf-arrangement is alphabetical, by authors' names, or by the names of the subjects of the books, if it is an alphabet of biographies. here, the surest and the quickest guide to the book is of course the alphabetical order, in which it must necessarily be found. this memory of the aspect of any object once looked at, is further well illustrated in the very varied facilities for the spelling of words found in different persons. thus, there are people who, when they once see any word (we will say a proper name) written or printed, can always afterwards spell that word unerringly, no matter how uncommon it may be. the mental retina, so to speak, receives so clear and exact an impression of the form of that word from the eye, that it retains and reproduces it at will. but there are others, (and among them persons of much learning in some directions) upon whom the form or orthography of a word makes little or no impression, however frequently it meets the eye in reading. i have known several fine scholars, and among them the head of an institution of learning, who could not for the life of them spell correctly; and this infirmity extended even to some of the commonest words in the language. why this inaptitude on the part of many, and this extraordinary facility on the part of others, in the memorizing faculty, is a phenomenon which may be noted down, but not solved. that vivid mental picture which is seen by the inward eye of the person favored with a good memory, is wholly wanting, or seen only dimly and rarely in the case of one who easily forgets. so vital and important is memory, that it has been justly denominated by the german philosopher, kant, "the most wonderful of our faculties." without it, the words of a book would be unintelligible to us, since it is memory alone which furnishes us with the several meanings to be attached to them. some writers on the science of mind assert that there is no such thing with any of us as absolutely forgetting anything that has once been in the mind. all mental activities, all knowledge which ever existed, persists. we never wholly lose them, but they become faint and obscure. one mental image effaces another. but those which have thus disappeared may be recalled by an act of reminiscence. while it may sometimes be impossible to recover one of them at the moment when wanted, by an act of voluntary recollection, some association may bring it unexpectedly and vividly before us. memory plays us many strange tricks, both when we wake and when we dream. it revives, by an involuntary process, an infinite variety of past scenes, faces, events, ideas, emotions, passions, conversations, and written or printed pages, all of which we may have fancied had passed forever from our consciousness. the aids to memory supposed to be furnished by the various mnemonic systems may now be briefly considered. these methods of supplying the defects of a naturally weak memory, or of strengthening a fairly good one, are one and all artificial. this might not be a conclusive objection to them, were they really effective and permanent helps, enabling one who has learned them to recall with certainty ideas, names, dates, and events which he is unable to recall by other means. theory apart, it is conceded that a system of memorizing which had proved widely or generally successful in making a good memory out of a poor one, would deserve much credit. but experience with these systems has as yet failed to show, by the stern test of practical utility, that they can give substantial (and still less permanent) aid in curing the defects of memory. most of the systems of mnemonics that have been invented are constructed on the principle of locality, or of utilizing objects which appeal to the sight. there is nothing new in these methods, for the principle is as old as simonides, who lived in the fifth century before christ, and who devised a system of memorizing by locality. one of the most prevalent systems now taught is to select a number of rooms in a house (in the mind's eye, of course) and divide the walls and the floors of each room into nine equal parts or squares, three in a row. then "on the front wall--that opposite the entrance of the first room--are the units, on the right-hand wall the tens, on the left hand the twenties, on the fourth wall the thirties, and on the floor the forties. numbers , , , and , each find a place on the roof above their respective walls. one room will thus furnish places, and ten rooms as many as , while occupies the centre of the roof. having fixed these clearly in the mind, so as to be able readily and at once to tell the exact position of each place or number, it is then necessary to associate with each of them some familiar object (or symbol) so that the object being suggested, its place may be instantly remembered, or when the place is before the mind, its object may immediately spring up. when this has been done thoroughly, the objects can be run over in any order from beginning to end, or from end to beginning, or the place of any particular one can at once be given. all that is further necessary is to associate the ideas we wish to remember with the objects in the various places, by which means they are readily remembered, and can be gone over in any order. in this way, one may learn to repeat several hundred disconnected words or ideas in any order, after hearing them only once." this rather complicated machinery for aiding the memory is quite too mechanical to commend itself to any one accustomed to reflect or to take note of his own mental processes. such an elaborate system crowds the mind with a lot of useless furniture, and hinders rather than helps a rational and straightforward habit of memorizing. it too much resembles the feat of trying to jump over a wall by running back a hundred or more yards to acquire a good start or momentum. the very complication of the system is fitted to puzzle rather than to aid the memory. it is based on mechanical or arithmetical associations--not founded on nature, and is of very small practical utility. it does not strengthen or improve the habit of memorizing, which should always be based upon close attention, and a logical method of classifying, associating, and analyzing facts or ideas. lord bacon, more than two centuries ago, wisely characterized mnemonic systems as "barren and useless." he wrote, "for immediately to repeat a multitude of names or words once repeated before, i esteem no more than rope-dancing, antic postures, and feats of activity; and, indeed, they are nearly the same thing, the one being the abuse of the bodily, as the other is of mental powers; and though they may cause admiration, they cannot be highly esteemed." in fact, these mnemonical systems are only a kind of crutches, sometimes useful to people who cannot walk, but actual impediments to those having the use of their limbs, and who by proper exercise can maintain their healthy and natural use indefinitely. i have given you an account of one of these artificial systems of memory, or systems of artificial memory, as you may choose to call them. there have been invented more than one hundred different systems of mnemonics, all professing to be invaluable, and some claiming to be infallible. it appears to be a fatal objection to these memory-systems that they substitute a wholly artificial association of ideas for a natural one. the habit of looking for accidental or arbitrary relations of names and things is cultivated, and the power of logical, spontaneous thought is injured by neglecting essential for unessential relations. these artificial associations of ideas work endless mischief by crowding out the natural ones. how then, you may ask, is a weak memory to be strengthened, or a fairly good memory to be cultivated into a better one? the answer is, by constant practice, and for this the vocation of a librarian furnishes far more opportunities than any other. at the basis of this practice of the memory, lies the habit of attention. all memory depends upon the strength or vividness of the impression made upon the mind, by the object, the name, the word, the date, which is sought to be remembered. and this, in turn, depends on the degree of attention with which it was first regarded. if the attention was so fixed that a clear mental image was formed, there will be no difficulty in remembering it again. if, on the other hand, you were inattentive, or listless, or pre-occupied with other thoughts, when you encountered the object, your impression of it would be hazy and indistinct, and no effort of memory would be likely to recall it. attention has been defined as the fixing of the mind intently upon one particular object, to the exclusion for a time, of all other objects soliciting notice. it is essential to those who would have a good memory, to cultivate assiduously the habit of concentration of thought. as the scattering shot hits no mark, so the scattering and random thoughts that sweep through an unoccupied brain lead to no memorable result, simply from want of attention or of fixation upon some one mental vision or idea. with your attention fastened upon any subject or object, you see it more clearly, and it impresses itself more vividly in the memory, as a natural consequence. not only so, but its related objects or ideas are brought up by the principle of association, and they too make a deeper impression and are more closely remembered. in fact, one thing carefully observed and memorized, leads almost insensibly to another that is related to it, and thus the faculty of association is strengthened, the memory is stimulated, and the seeds of knowledge are deeply planted in that complex organism which we call the mind. this power of attention, of keeping an object or a subject steadily in view until it is absorbed or mastered, is held by some to be the most distinctive element in genius. most people have not this habit of concentration of the mind, but allow it to wander aimlessly on, flitting from subject to subject, without mastering any; but then, most people are not geniuses. the habit to be cultivated is that of thinking persistently of only one thing at a time, sternly preventing the attention from wandering. it may be laid down as an axiom that the two corner-stones of memory are attention and association. and both of these must act in harmony, the habit of fixed attention being formed or guided by the will, before a normal or retentive memory becomes possible. what is called cultivating the memory, therefore, does not mean anything more than close attention to whatever we wish to remember, with whatever associations naturally cling to it, until it is actually mastered. if one has not an instinctive or naturally strong memory, he should not rest satisfied with letting the days go by until he has improved it. the way to improve it, is to begin at the foundation, and by the constant exercise of the will-power, to take up every subject with fixed attention, and one at a time, excluding every other for the time being. there is no doubt whatever that the memory is capable of indefinite improvement; and though one's first efforts in that direction may prove a disappointment, because only partially successful, he should try, and try again, until he is rewarded with the full fruits of earnest intellectual effort, in whatever field. he may have, at the start, instead of a fine memory, what a learned professor called, "a fine forgettery," but let him persevere to the end. none of us were made to sit down in despair because we are not endowed with an all-embracing memory, or because we cannot "speak with the tongues of men and of angels," and do not know "all mysteries and all knowledge." it rather becomes us to make the best and highest use, day by day, of the talents that are bestowed upon us, remembering that however short of perfection they may be, we are yet far more gifted than myriads of our fellow-creatures in this very imperfect world. there is no question that the proper cultivation of the memory is, or ought to be, the chief aim of education. all else is so dependent upon this, that it may be truly affirmed that, without memory, knowledge itself would be impossible. by giving up oneself with fixed attention to what one seeks to remember, and trusting the memory, though it may often fail, any person can increase his powers of memory and consequently of learning, to an indefinite degree. to improve and strengthen the memory, it must be constantly exercised. let it be supplied with new knowledge frequently, and called on daily to reproduce it. if remembered only imperfectly or in part, refresh it by reference to the source whence the knowledge came; and repeat this carefully and thoroughly, until memory becomes actually the store-house of what you know on that subject. if there are certain kinds of facts and ideas which you more easily forget than others, it is a good way to practice upon them, taking up a few daily, and adding to them by degrees. dr. w. t. harris, the united states commissioner of education, gave his personal experience to the effect that he always found it hard to remember dates. he resolved to improve a feeble memory in this respect by learning the succession of english kings, from william the conqueror, down to victoria. with his characteristic thoroughness, he began by learning three or four dates of accession only, the first day; two new ones were added the second day; then one new king added the third day; and thereafter even less frequency was observed in learning the chronology. by this method he had the whole table of thirty-six sovereigns learned, and made familiar by constant review. it had to be learned anew one year after, and once again after years of neglect. but his memory for dates steadily grew, and without conscious effort, dates and numbers soon came to be seized with a firmer grasp than before. this kind of memory, he adds, now improves or increases with him from year to year. here is an instance of cultivation of memory by a notable scholar, who adds a monition to learners with weak memories, not to undertake to memorize too much at once. learning a succession of fifty names slowly, he says, will so discipline the memory for names, as to partially or even permanently remove all embarrassment from that source. i may add that a long table of names or dates, or any prolonged extract in verse or prose, if learned by repeating it over and over as a whole, will be less tenaciously retained in memory, than if committed in parts. the highest form of memory is actually unconscious, _i. e._, that in which what we would recall comes to us spontaneously, without effort or lapse of time in thinking about it. it is this kind of memory that has been possessed by all the notable persons who have been credited with knowing everything, or with never forgetting anything. it is not to be reckoned to their credit, so much as to their good fortune. what merit is there in having a good memory, when one cannot help remembering? there is one caution to be given to those who are learning to improve a memory naturally weak. when such a one tries to recall a date, or name, or place, or idea, or book, it frequently happens that the endeavor fails utterly. the more he tries, the more obstinately the desired object fails to respond. as the poet pope wrote about the witless author: "you beat your pate, and fancy wit will come; knock as you please, there's nobody at home." in these cases, no attempt to force the memory should be made, nor should the attention be kept long on the subject, for this course only injures the faculty, and leads to confusion of mind. to persist in a constantly baffled effort to recover a word, or other forgotten link in memory, is a laborious attempt which is itself likely to cause failure, and induce a distrust of the memory which is far from rational. the forgotten object will probably recur in no long time after, when least expected. much discursive reading is not only injurious to the faculty of memory, but may be positively destructive of it. the vast extent of our modern world of reviews, magazines and newspapers, with their immense variety of subjects, dissipates the attention instead of concentrating it, and becomes fatal to systematic thought, tenacious memory, and the acquirement of real knowledge. the mind that is fed upon a diet of morning and evening newspapers, mainly or solely, will become flabby, uncertain, illogical, frivolous, and, in fact, little better than a scatterbrains. as one who listens to an endless dribble of small talk lays up nothing out of all the palaver, which, to use a common phrase, "goes in at one ear, and out at the other," so the reader who continuously absorbs all the stuff which the daily press, under the pretext of "printing the news," inflicts upon us, is nothing benefited in intellectual gifts or permanent knowledge. what does he learn by his assiduous pursuit of these ephemeral will o' the wisps, that only "lead to bewilder, and dazzle to blind?" he absorbs an incredible amount of empty gossip, doubtful assertions, trifling descriptions, apocryphal news, and some useful, but more useless knowledge. the only visible object of spending valuable time over these papers appears to be to satisfy a momentary curiosity, and then the mass of material read passes almost wholly out of the mind, and is never more thought of. says coleridge, one of the foremost of english thinkers: "i believe the habit of perusing periodical works may be properly added to the catalogue of anti-mnemonics, or weakeners of the memory." if read sparingly, and for actual events, newspapers have a value which is all their own; but to spend hours upon them, as many do, is mere mental dissipation. chapter . qualifications of a librarian. in directing attention to some of the more important elements which should enter into the character and acquirements of a librarian, i shall perhaps not treat them in the order of their relative importance. thus, some persons might consider the foremost qualification for one aspiring to the position of a librarian to be wide knowledge in literature and science: others would say that the possession of sound common sense is above all things essential; others an excellent and retentive memory; still others might insist that business habits and administrative faculty are all-important; and others again, a zeal for learning and for communicating it to others. i shall not venture to pronounce what, among the multitude of talents that are requisite to constitute a good librarian is the most requisite. suffice it to say, that all of them which i shall notice are important, and that the order of their treatment determines nothing as to which are more and which are less important. so much is expected of librarians that it actually appears as if a large portion of the public were of the opinion that it is the duty of him who has a library in charge to possess himself, in some occult or mysterious way, unknown to the common mind, of all the knowledge which all the books combine. the librarian of the british museum, speaking to a conference of librarians in london, quoted a remark of pattison, in his "life of casaubon," that "the librarian who reads is lost." this was certainly true of that great scholar casaubon, who in his love for the contents of the books under his charge, forgot his duties as a librarian. and it is to a large degree true of librarians in general, that those who pursue their own personal reading or study during library hours do it at the expense of their usefulness as librarians. they must be content with such snatches of reading as come in the definite pursuit of some object of research incident to their library work, supplemented by such reading time as unoccupied evenings, sundays, and annual vacations may give them. yet nothing is more common than for applicants for the position of librarians or assistant librarians to base their aspiration upon the foolish plea that they are "so fond of reading", or that they "have always been in love with books." so far from this being a qualification, it may become a disqualification. unless combined with habits of practical, serious, unremitting application to labor, the taste for reading may seduce its possessor into spending the minutes and the hours which belong to the public, in his own private gratification. the conscientious, the useful librarian, living amid the rich intellectual treasures of centuries, the vast majority of which he has never read, must be content daily to enact the part of tantalus, in the presence of a tempting and appetizing banquet which is virtually beyond his reach. but he may console himself by the reflection that comparatively few of the books upon his shelves are so far worth reading as to be essential. "if i had read as many books as other men," said hobbes of malmesbury, "i should have been as ignorant as they." if the librarian, in the precious time which is indisputably his, reads a wise selection of the best books, the masterpieces of the literature of all lands, which have been consecrated by time and the suffrages of successive generations of readers, he can well afford to apply to the rest, the short-hand method recommended in a former chapter, and skim them in the intervals of his daily work, instead of reading them. thus he will become sufficiently familiar with the new books of the day (together with the information about their contents and merits furnished by the literary reviews, which he must read, however sparingly, in order to keep up with his profession) to be able to furnish readers with some word of comment as to most books coming into the library. this course, or as close an approximation to it as his multifarious duties will permit, will go far to solve the problem that confronts every librarian who is expected to be an exponent of universal knowledge. always refraining from unqualified praise of books (especially of new ones) always maintaining that impartial attitude toward men and opinions which becomes the librarian, he should act the part of a liberal, eclectic, catholic guide to inquirers of every kind. and here let me emphasize the great importance to every librarian or assistant of early learning to make the most of his working faculties. he cannot afford to plod along through a book, sentence by sentence, like an ordinary reader. he must learn to read a sentence at a glance. the moment his eye lights upon a title-page he should be able to take it all in by a comprehensive and intuitive mental process. too much stress cannot be laid upon the every-day habit or method of reading. it makes all the difference between time saved, and time wasted; between efficiency and inefficiency; between rapid progress and standing still, in one's daily work. no pains should be spared, before entering upon the all-engrossing work of a library, to acquire the habit of rapid reading. an eminent librarian of one of the largest libraries was asked whether he did not find a great deal of time to read? his reply was--"i wish that i could ever get as much as one hour a day for reading--but i have never been able to do it." of course every librarian must spend much time in special researches; and in this way a good deal of some of his days will be spent in acquainting himself with the resources of his library; but this is incidental and not systematic reading. in viewing the essential qualifications of a librarian, it is necessary to say at the outset that a library is no place for uneducated people. the requirements of the position are such as to demand not only native talent above the average, but also intellectual acquirements above the average. the more a librarian knows, the more he is worth, and the converse of the proposition is equally true, that the less he knows the less he is worth. before undertaking the arduous task of guiding others in their intellectual pursuits, one should make sure that he is himself so well-grounded in learning that he can find the way in which to guide them. to do this, he must indispensably have something more than a smattering of the knowledge that lies at the foundation of his profession. he must be, if not widely read, at least carefully grounded in history, science, literature, and art. while he may not, like lord bacon, take all knowledge to be his province, because he is not a lord bacon, nor if he were, could he begin to grasp the illimitable domain of books of science and literature which have been added to human knowledge in the two centuries and a half since bacon wrote, he can at least, by wise selection, master enough of the leading works in each field, to make him a well-informed scholar. that great treasury of information on the whole circle of the sciences, and the entire range of literature, the encyclopaedia britannica, judiciously studied, will alone give what would appear to the average mind, a very liberal education. one of the most common and most inconsiderate questions propounded to a librarian is this: "do you ever expect to read all these books through?" and it is well answered by propounding another question, namely--"did _you_ ever read your dictionary through?" a great library is the scholar's dictionary--not to be read through, but to enable him to put his finger on the fact he wants, just when it is wanted. a knowledge of some at least of the foreign languages is indispensable to the skilled librarian. in fact, any one aspiring to become an assistant in any large library, or the head of any small one, should first acquire at least an elementary knowledge of french and latin. aside from books in other languages than english which necessarily form part of every considerable library, there are innumerable quotations or words in foreign tongues scattered through books and periodicals in english, which a librarian, appealed to by readers who are not scholars, would be mortified if found unable to interpret them. the librarian who does not understand several languages will be continually at a loss in his daily work. a great many important catalogues, and bibliographies, essential parts of the equipment of a library, will be lost to him as aids, and he can neither select foreign books intelligently nor catalogue them properly. if he depends upon the aid of others more expert, his position will be far from agreeable or satisfactory. how many and what foreign languages should be learned may be matter for wide difference of opinion. but so far-reaching is the prevalence of the latin, as one of the principal sources of our own language, and of other modern tongues, that a knowledge of it is most important. and so rich is the literature of france, to say nothing of the vast number of french words constantly found in current english and american books and periodicals, that at least a fairly thorough mastery of that language should be acquired. the same may be said of the german, which is even more important in some parts of the united states, and which has a literature most copious and valuable in every varied department of knowledge. with these three tongues once familiar, the italian, spanish, portuguese, dutch, and scandinavian languages may be, through the aid of dictionaries, so far utilized as to enable one to read titles and catalogue books in any of them, although a knowledge of all, so as to be able to read books in them, is highly desirable. in the boston public library, the assistants are required to possess an adequate knowledge of latin, french, and german. and all candidates for positions in the reading-room of the british museum library must undergo a thorough test examination as to their knowledge of the latin language. opportunities for acquiring foreign languages are now so abundant that there is small excuse for any one who wants to know french, latin or german, and yet goes through life without learning them. there are even ways of learning these languages with sufficient thoroughness for reading purposes without a teacher, and sometimes without a text-book. two assistant librarians taught themselves french and german in their evenings, by setting out to read familiar works of english fiction in translations into those languages, and soon acquired a good working knowledge of both, so as to be able to read any work in either, with only occasional aid from the dictionary for the less common words. it is surprising how soon one can acquire a sufficient vocabulary in any language, by reading any of its great writers. a good way for a beginner to learn french without a master is to take a french new testament, and read the four gospels through. after doing this three or four times, almost any one who is at all familiar with the scriptures, will be able to read most books in the french language with facility. in the great art of learning, all doors are easily unlocked--by those who have the key. it should go without saying that the librarian should possess a wide knowledge of books. this knowledge should include ( ) an acquaintance with ancient and modern literature, so as to be able to characterize the notable writers in each of the leading languages of the world; ( ) a knowledge of history extensive enough to enable him to locate all the great characters, including authors, in their proper century and country; ( ) a knowledge of editions, so as to discriminate between the old and the new, the full and the abridged, the best edited, best printed, etc.; ( ) an acquaintance with the intrinsic value or the subject and scope of most of the great books of the world; ( ) a knowledge of commercial values, so as to be able to bid or to buy understandingly, and with proper economy; ( ) a familiarity with what constitutes condition in library books, and with binding and repairing processes, for the restoration of imperfect volumes for use. the librarian should be one who has had the benefit of thorough preliminary training, for no novice is qualified to undertake the role of an expert, and any attempt to do so can result only in disappointment and failure. no one who has read little or nothing but novels since leaving school need ever hope to succeed. no librarian can know too much, since his work brings him into relation with the boundless domain of human knowledge. he should not be a specialist in science (except in the one science of bibliography) but must be content with knowing a little about a great many things, rather than knowing everything about one thing. much converse with books must fill him with a sense of his own ignorance. the more he comes to know, the wider will open before him the illimitable realm of what is yet to be known. in the lowest deep which research the most profound can reach, there is a lower deep still unattained--perhaps, even, unattainable. but the fact that he cannot by any possibility master all human knowledge should not deter the student from making ever advancing inroads upon that domain. the vast extent of the world of books only emphasizes the need of making a wise selection from the mass. we are brought inevitably back to that precept by every excursion that we make into whatever field of literature. the librarian should possess, besides a wide acquaintance with books, a faculty of administration, and this rests upon careful business habits. he should have a system in all the library work. every assistant should have a prescribed task, and be required to learn and to practice all the methods peculiar to library economy, including the economy of time. each day's business should be so organized as to show an advance at the end. the library must of course have rules, and every rule should be so simple and so reasonable that it will commend itself to every considerate reader or library assistant. all questions of doubt or dispute as to the observance of any regulation, should be decided at once, courteously but firmly, and in a few words. nothing can be more unseemly than a wrangle in a public library over some rule or its application, disturbing readers who are entitled to silence, and consuming time that should be given to the service of the public. when thomas carlyle, one of the great scholars of modern times, testified in before a parliamentary commission upon the british museum library, he thus spoke of the qualifications of a librarian: "all must depend upon the kind of management you get within the library itself. you must get a good pilot to steer the ship, or you will never get into the harbor. you must have a man to direct who knows well what the duty is that he has to do, and who is determined to go through that, in spite of all clamor raised against him; and who is not anxious to obtain approbation, but is satisfied that he will obtain it by and by, provided he acts ingenuously and faithfully." another quality most important in a librarian is an even temper. he should be always and unfailingly courteous, not only to scholars and visitors of high consideration, but to every reader, however humble or ignorant, and to every employee, however subordinate in position. there is nothing which more detracts from one's usefulness than a querulous temper. its possessor is seldom happy himself, and is the frequent cause of unhappiness in others. visitors and questions should never be met with a clouded brow. a cheerful "good-morning" goes a great way oftentimes. many library visitors come in a complaining mood--it may be from long waiting to be served, or from mistake in supplying them with the wrong books, or from errors in charging their accounts, or from some fancied neglect or slight, or from any other cause. the way to meet such ill-humored or offended readers is to gently explain the matter, with that "soft answer which turneth away wrath." many a foolish and useless altercation may thus be avoided, and the complainant restored to cheerfulness, if not to courtesy; whereas, if the librarian were to meet the case with a sharp or haughty answer, it would probably end without satisfaction on either side. whatever you do, never permit yourself to be irritable, and resolve never to be irritated. it will make you unhappy, and will breed irritation in others. cheerfulness under all circumstances, however difficult, is the duty and the interest of the librarian. thus he will cultivate successfully an obliging disposition, which is a prime requisite to his success with the public and his usefulness as a librarian. it ought not to be requisite to insist upon good health as a condition precedent for any one aspiring to be a librarian. so very much depends upon this, that it should form a part of the conscientious duty of every one to acquire and maintain a sound condition of physical health, as a most important adjunct of a thoroughly sound and healthy condition of the mind. this is easier than most persons are aware. if we except inherited constitutional weaknesses, or maladies of a serious character, there is almost no one who is not able by proper diet, regimen, and daily exercise, to maintain a degree of health which will enable him to use his brain to its full working capacity. it demands an intelligent and watchful care of the daily regimen, so that only simple and wholesome food and drink may be taken into the system, and what is equally important, adequate sleep, and habitual moderate exercise. no one can maintain perfect health without breathing good unadulterated air, and exercising in it with great frequency. one's walks to and from the library may be sufficient to give this, and it is well to have the motive of such a walk, since exercise taken for the mere purpose of it is of far less value. the habit of taking drugs, or going to a doctor for every little malady, is most pernicious. every one, and especially a librarian, who is supposed (however erroneously) to know everything, should know more of his own constitution than any physician. with a few judicious experiments in daily regimen, and a little abstinence now and then, he can subdue head-aches, catarrhs and digestive troubles, and by exercising an intelligent will, can generally prevent their recurrence. if one finds himself in the morning in a state of languor and lassitude, be sure he has abused some physical function, and apply a remedy. an invalid will make a poorly equipped librarian. how can a dyspeptic who dwells in the darkness of a disease, be a guiding light to the multitudes who beset him every hour? there are few callings demanding as much mental and physical soundness and alertness as the care of a public library. sound common sense is as essential to the librarian as sound health. he should always take the practical straightforward view of every item of library business and management, remembering that the straight road is always the shortest way between two points. while he may be full of ideas, he should be neither an idealist nor a dreamer. in library methods, the cardinal requisites to be aimed at, are utility and convenience. a person of the most perfect education, and the highest literary attainments, but destitute of common sense, will not succeed in the conduct of a library. that intuitive judgment, which sees the reason of everything at a glance, and applies the proper agencies to the case in hand, is wanting in his composition. multitudes of emergencies arise in library service, where the prompt and practical sense of the librarian is required to settle a dispute, adjust a difficulty, or to direct what is to be done in some arrangement or re-arrangement of books, or some library appliance or repair. in such cases, the unpractical or impracticable man will be very likely to decide wrongly, choosing the inconvenient method instead of the convenient, the more costly instead of the more economical, the laborious in place of the obvious and easy; in short, some way of doing the work or settling the difficulty which will not permit it to stay settled, or will require the work to be done over again. the man of common-sense methods, on the other hand, will at once see the end from the beginning, anticipate every difficulty, and decide upon the proper course without trouble or hesitation, finding his judgment fully vindicated by the result. the librarian in whom the quality of common sense is well developed will be ever ready to devise or to accept improvements in library methods. never a slave to "red tape," he will promptly cut it wherever and whenever it stands in the way of the readiest service of books and information to all comers. another quality which every librarian or assistant in a library should possess is a thorough love of his work. he should cherish a noble enthusiasm for the success and usefulness of the institution with which he has chosen to be associated. nor should this spirit be by any means limited to the literary and scientific aid which he is enabled to extend to others, nor to the acquisition of the knowledge requisite to meet the endless inquiries that are made of him. he should take as much interest in restoring a broken binding, or in seeing that a torn leaf is repaired, as in informing a great scholar what the library contains upon any subject. no one who is listless or indifferent in the discharge of daily duties is fit for a place in a public library. there should be an _esprit de corps_, a zeal for his profession, which will lead him to make almost any sacrifice of outside interests to become proficient in it. thus only will he render himself indispensable in his place, and do the greatest amount of service to the greatest number of readers. i have seen employees in libraries so utterly careless of what belongs to their vocation, as to let books, totally unfit for use, ragged or broken, or with plates loosened, ready to drop out and disappear, go back to the shelves unrepaired, to pursue the downward road toward destruction. and i have been in many libraries in which the books upon the shelves exhibited such utter want of care, such disarrangement, such tumbling about and upside-down chaos, and such want of cleanliness, as fairly to make one's heart ache. in some cases this may have been due in great part to unwise free admission of the public to the shelves, and consequent inevitable disorder; in others, it may be partially excused by the librarian's absolute want of the needful help or time, to keep the library in order; but in others, it was too apparent that the librarian in charge took no interest in the condition of the books. too many librarians (at least of the past, however it may now be) have been of the class described by dr. poole, the chicago librarian. he said that library trustees too often appeared to think that anybody almost would do for a librarian; men who have failed in everything else, broken-down clergymen, or unsuccessful teachers, and the like. passing now to other needful qualifications of librarians and library assistants, let me say that one of the foremost is accuracy. perhaps i have before this remarked that exact accuracy is one of the rarest of human qualities. even an approximation to it is rare, and absolute accuracy is still rarer. beware of the person who is sure of every thing--who retails to you a conversation he has heard, affecting to give the exact words of a third person, or who quotes passages in verse or in prose, with glib assurance, as the production of some well-known writer. the chances are ten to one that the conversation is mainly manufactured in the brain of the narrator, and that the quotation is either not written by the author to whom it is attributed, or else is a travesty of his real language. it is lord byron who tells of that numerous class of sciolists whom one finds everywhere-- "with just enough of learning to misquote." the books one reads abound in erroneous dates, mistaken names, garbled extracts, and blundering quotations. so much the more important is it to the librarian, who is so continually drawn upon for correct information upon every subject, to make sure of his facts, before communicating them. when (as frequently happens) he has no way of verifying them, he should report them, not as his own conclusions, but on the authority of the book or periodical where found. this will relieve him of all responsibility, if they turn out to be erroneous. whenever i find a wrong date or name in a printed book, or an erroneous reference in the index, or a mis-spelled word, i always pencil the correct date, or name, or page of reference in the margin. this i do as a matter of instinct, as well as of duty, for the benefit of future inquirers, so that they may not be misled. i speak here of errors which are palpable, or of the inaccuracy of which i have positive knowledge; if in doubt, i either let the matter go entirely, or write a query in pencil at the place, with the presumed correct substitute appended. never be too sure of what you find in books; but prove all things and hold fast to those only which you find to be beyond dispute. thus will you save yourself from falling into many errors, and from recanting many opinions. it is the method of ordinary education to take everything for granted; it is the method of science to take nothing for granted. i may refer here to another rule always to be observed, and pertaining to the theme of strict accuracy in your daily work. that is, the necessity of carefully examining every piece of work you may have done, before it leaves your hands, for the purpose of correcting errors. all of us are not only liable to make mistakes, but all of us do make them; and if any one has a conceit of his own accuracy, the surest way to take it out of him is to let him serve an apprenticeship in some library, where there is competent revision of all the labor performed. there are multitudes of assistants in libraries who cannot write a letter, even, without making one or more errors. how often do you leave out a word in your writing experience, which may change the meaning of a whole sentence? so, in writing titles, whether for the catalogue, or for a library order, or for the information of some inquirer, you are liable to make errors of date, or edition, or place of publication, or size, or to misplace or omit or substitute some word in the description of the book. there is nothing in the world quite so easy as to be mistaken: and the only remedy (and it is an all-essential one) is to go over every line and every word of what you have written, before it leaves your hands. as second thoughts are proverbially best, so a second careful glance over a piece of writing will almost always reveal some error or omission to be corrected. think of the mortification you must feel at finding an unverified piece of work returned upon your hands, with several glaring mistakes marked by the reviser! think, on the other hand, of the inward satisfaction experienced when you have done your best, written and revised your own work, and found it always passed as perfect. i have tried many persons by many tests, and while i have found a great number who were industrious, intelligent, zealous, conscientious, good-tempered, and expeditious, i have found scarcely one who was always accurate. one of the rarest things in a library is to find an assistant who has an unerring sense of the french accents. this knowledge, to one expert in that language, even if he does not speak it, should be as intuitive as the art of spelling correctly, either in english or french. he should write the proper accent over a letter just as infallibly as he writes the proper letters in a word. but, strange to say, it is very common, even with good french scholars (in the book-sense or literary sense of scholarship) to find them putting the acute accent for the grave over a vowel, or the grave instead of the acute, or omitting the circumflex accent entirely, and so on. every one commits errors, but the wise man is he who learns by his mistakes, and applies the remedy. the best remedy (as i said in the case of memory in another chapter,) is to cultivate a habit of trained attention in whatever we do. yet many people (and i am afraid we must say most people) go on through life, making the same blunders, and repeating them. it appears as if the habit of inaccuracy were innate in the human race, and only to be reformed by the utmost painstaking, and even with the aid of that, only by a few. i have had to observe and correct such numberless errors in the work of well-educated, adult, and otherwise accomplished persons, as filled me with despair. yet there is no more doubt of the improvability of the average mind, however inaccurate at the start, than of the power of the will to correct other bad habits into which people unconsciously fall. one of the requisites of a successful librarian is a faculty of order and system, applied throughout all the details of library administration. without these, the work will be performed in a hap-hazard, slovenly manner, and the library itself will tend to become a chaos. bear in mind the great extent and variety of the objects which come under the care of the librarian, all of which are to be classified and reduced to order. these include not only books upon every earthly subject (and very many upon unearthly ones) but a possibly wide range of newspapers and periodicals, a great mass of miscellaneous pamphlets, sometimes of maps and charts, of manuscripts and broadsides, and frequently collections of engravings, photographs, and other pictures, all of which come in to form a part of most libraries. this great complexity of material, too, exhibits only the physical aspect of the librarian's labors. there are, besides, the preparation, arrangement and continuation of the catalogue, in its three or more forms, the charging and crediting of the books in circulation, the searching of many book lists for purchases, the library bills and accounts, the supervision and revision of the work of assistants, the library correspondence, often requiring wide researches to answer inquiries, the continual aid to readers, and a multitude of minor objects of attention quite too numerous to name. is it any over-statement of the case to say that the librarian who has to organize and provide for all this physical and intellectual labor, should be systematic and orderly in a high degree? that portion of his responsible task which pertains to the arrangement and classification of books has been elsewhere treated. but there is required in addition, a faculty of arranging his time, so as to meet seasonably the multifarious drafts upon it. he should early learn not only the supreme value of moments, but how to make all the library hours fruitful of results. to this end the time should be apportioned with careful reference to each department of library service. one hour may be set for revising one kind of work of assistants; another for a different one; another for perusing sale catalogues, and marking _desiderata_ to be looked up in the library catalogue; another for researches in aid of readers or correspondents; still another for answering letters on the many subjects about which librarians are constantly addressed; and still another for a survey of all the varied interests of the library and its frequenters, to see what features of the service need strengthening, what improvements can be made, what errors corrected, and how its general usefulness can be increased. so to apportion one's time as to get out of the day (which is all too short for what is to be done in it) the utmost of accomplishment is a problem requiring much skill, as well as the ability to profit by experience. one has always to be subject to interruptions--and these must be allowed for, and in some way made up for. remember, when you have lost valuable time with some visitor whose claims to your attention are paramount, that when to-morrow comes one should take up early the arrears of work postponed, and make progress with them, even though unable to finish them. another suggestion; proper system in the management and control of one's time demands that none of it be absorbed by trifles or triflers; and so every librarian must indispensably know how to get rid of bores. one may almost always manage to effect this without giving offense, and at the same time without wasting any time upon them, which is the one thing needful. the bore is commonly one who, having little or nothing to do, inflicts himself upon the busy persons of his acquaintance, and especially upon the ones whom he credits with knowing the most--to wit, the librarians. receive him courteously, but keep on steadily at the work you are doing when he enters. if you are skilful, you can easily do two things at once, for example, answer your idler friend or your bore, and revise title-cards, or mark a catalogue, or collate a book, or look up a quotation, or write a letter, at the same time. never lose your good humor, never say that your time is valuable, or that you are very busy; never hint at his going away; but never quit your work, answer questions cheerfully, and keep on, allowing nothing to take your eyes off your business. by and by he will take the hint, if not wholly pachydermatous, and go away of his own accord. by pursuing this course i have saved infinite time, and got rid of infinite bores, by one and the same process. the faculty of organizing one's work is essential, in order to efficiency and accomplishment. if you do not have a plan and adhere to it, if you let this, that, and the other person interrupt you with trifling gossip, or unnecessary requests, you will never get ahead of your work; on the contrary, your work will always get ahead of you. the same result will follow if you interrupt yourself, by yielding to the temptation of reading just a page or a paragraph of something that attracts your eye while at work. this dissipation of time, to say nothing of its unfair appropriation of what belongs to the library, defeats the prompt accomplishment of the work in hand, and fosters the evil habit of scattering your forces, in idleness and procrastination. it ought not to be needful to urge habits of neatness and the love of order upon candidates for places in libraries. how much a neat and carefully arranged shelf of books appeals to one's taste, i need not say, nor urge the point how much an orderly and neatly kept room, or desk, or table adds to one's comfort. the librarian who has the proper spirit of his calling should take pains to make the whole library look neat and attractive, to have a place for everything, and everything in its place. this, with adequate space existing, will be found easier than to have the books and other material scattered about in confusion, thus requiring much more time to find them when wanted. a slovenly-kept library is certain to provoke public criticism, and this always tells to the disadvantage of the librarian; while a neatly kept, carefully arranged collection of books is not only pleasing to the eye, but elicits favorable judgment from all visitors. among the qualities that should enter into the composition of a successful librarian must be reckoned an inexhaustible patience. he will be sorely tried in his endeavors to satisfy his own ideals, and sometimes still more sorely in his efforts to satisfy the public. against the mistakes and short-comings of assistants, the ignorance of many readers, and the unreasonable expectations of others, the hamperings of library authorities, and the frequently unfounded criticisms of the press, he should arm himself with a patience and equanimity that are unfailing. when he knows he is right, he should never be disturbed at complaint, nor suffer a too sensitive mood to ruffle his feelings. when there is any foundation for censure, however slight, he should learn by it and apply the remedy. the many and varied characters who come within the comprehensive sphere of the librarian necessarily include people of all tempers and dispositions, as well as of every degree of culture. to be gracious and courteous to all is his interest as well as his duty. with the ignorant he will often have to exercise a vast amount of patience, but he should never betray a supercilious air, as though looking down upon them from the height of his own superior intelligence. to be always amiable toward inferiors, superiors, and equals, is to conciliate the regard of all. courtesy costs so little, and makes so large a return in proportion to the investment, that it is surprising not to find it universal. yet it is so far from being so that we hear people praising one whose manners are always affable, as if he were deserving of special credit for it, as an exception to the general rule. it is frequently observed that a person of brusque address or crusty speech begets crustiness in others. there are subtle currents of feeling in human intercourse, not easy to define, but none the less potent in effect. a person of marked suavity of speech and bearing radiates about him an atmosphere of good humor, which insensibly influences the manners and the speech of others. there will often come into a public library a man whose whole manner is aggressive and over-bearing, who acts and talks as if he had a right to the whole place, including the librarian. no doubt, being a citizen, he has every right, except the right to violate the rules--or to make himself disagreeable. the way to meet him is to be neither aggressive, nor submissive and deferential, but with a cool and pleasant courtesy, ignoring any idea of unpleasant feeling on your part. you will thus at least teach a lesson in good manners, which may or may not be learned, according to circumstances and the hopeful or hopeless character of the pupil. closely allied to the virtue of patience, is that of unfailing tact. this will be found an important adjunct in the administration of a public library. how to meet the innumerable inquiries made of him with just the proper answer, saying neither too much, nor too little, to be civil to all, without needless multiplication of words, this requires one to hold his faculties well in hand, never to forget himself, and to show that no demand whatever can vex or fluster him. the librarian should know how, or learn how to adapt himself to all readers, and how to aid their researches without devoting much time to each. this requires a fine quality of tact, of adapting one's self quickly to the varied circumstances of the case in hand. one who has it well developed will go through the manifold labors and interviews and annoyances of the day without friction, while one who is without tact will be worried and fretted until life seems to him a burden. need i mention, after all that has been said of the exacting labors that continually wait upon the librarian, that he should be possessed both of energy and untiring industry? by the very nature of the calling to which he is dedicated, he is pledged to earnest and thorough work in it. he cannot afford to be a trifler or a loiterer on the way, but must push on continually. he should find time for play, it is true, and for reading for his own recreation and instruction, but that time should be out of library hours. and a vigilant and determined economy of time in library hours will be found a prime necessity. i have dwelt elsewhere upon the importance of choosing the shortest methods in every piece of work to be accomplished. equally important is it to cultivate economy of speech, or the habit of condensing instructions to assistants, and answers to inquiries into the fewest words. a library should never be a circumlocution office. the faculty of condensed expression, though somewhat rare, can be cultivated. in the relations existing between librarian and assistants there should be mutual confidence and support. all are equally interested in the credit and success of the institution which engages their services, and all should labor harmoniously to that end. loyalty to one's employers is both the duty and the interest of the employed: and the reciprocal duty of faithfulness to those employed, and interest in their improvement and success should mark the intercourse of the librarian with his assistants. he should never be too old nor too wise to learn, and should welcome suggestions from every intelligent aid. i have suggested the importance of an even temper in the relations between librarians and readers; and it is equally important as between all those associated in the administration of a library. every one has faults and weaknesses; and those encountered in others will be viewed with the most charity by those who are duly conscious of their own. every one makes mistakes, and these are often provoking or irritating to one who knows better; but a mild and pleasant explanation of the error is far more likely to lead to amendment, than a sharp reproof, leaving hard feeling or bitterness behind. under no circumstances is peevishness or passion justifiable. library assistants in their bearing toward each other, should suppress all feelings of censoriousness, fault-finding or jealousy, if they have them, in favor of civility and good manners, if not of good fellowship. they are all public servants engaged in a common cause, aiming at the enlightenment and improvement of the community; they should cherish a just pride in being selected for this great service, and to help one another in every step of the work, should be their golden rule. everything should be done for the success and usefulness of the library, and all personal considerations should be merged in public ones. turning now to what remains of suggestion regarding the qualities which should enter into the character, or form a part of the equipment of a librarian, let me urge the importance of his possessing a truly liberal and impartial mind. it is due to all who frequent a public library to find all those in charge ready and willing to aid their researches in whatever direction they may lie. their attitude should be one of constant and sincere open-mindedness. they are to remember that it is the function of the library to supply the writings of all kinds of authors, on all sides of all questions. in doing this, it is no part of a librarian's function to interpose any judgments of his own upon the authors asked for. he has no right as a librarian to be an advocate of any theories, or a propagandist of any opinions. his attitude should be one of strict and absolute impartiality. a public library is the one common property of all, the one neutral ground where all varieties of character, and all schools of opinion meet and mingle. within its hallowed precincts, sacred to literature and science, the voice of controversy should be hushed. while the librarian may and should hold his own private opinions with firmness and entire independence, he should keep them private--as regards the frequenters of the library. he may, for example, be profoundly convinced of the truth of the christian religion; and he is called on, we will suppose, for books attacking christianity, like thomas paine's "age of reason," or robert g. ingersoll's lectures on "myth and miracle." it is his simple duty to supply the writers asked for, without comment, for in a public library, christian and jew, mahometan and agnostic, stand on the same level of absolute equality. the library has the koran, and the book of mormon, as well as the scriptures of the old and new testament, and one is to be as freely supplied as the other. a library is an institution of universal range--of encyclopaedic knowledge, which gathers in and dispenses to all comers, the various and conflicting opinions of all writers upon religion, science, politics, philosophy, and sociology. the librarian may chance to be an ardent republican or a zealous democrat; but in either case, he should show as much alacrity in furnishing readers with w. j. bryan's book "the first battle," as with mckinley's speeches, or the republican hand-book. a library is no place for dogmatism; the librarian is pledged, by the very nature of his profession, which is that of a dispenser of all knowledge--not of a part of it--to entire liberality, and absolute impartiality. remembering the axiom that all errors may be safely tolerated, while reason is left free to combat them, he should be ever ready to furnish out of the intellectual arsenal under his charge, the best and strongest weapons to either side in any conflict of opinion. it will have been gathered from what has gone before, in recapitulation of the duties and responsibilities of the librarian's calling, that it is one demanding a high order of talent. the business of successfully conducting a public library is complex and difficult. it is full of never-ending detail, and the work accomplished does not show for what it is really worth, except in the eyes of the more thoughtful and discerning observers. i may here bring into view some of the drawbacks and discouragements incident to the librarian's vocation, together with an outline of the advantages which belong to it. in the first place, there is little money in it. no one who looks upon the acquisition of money as one of the chief aims of life, should think for a moment of entering on a librarian's career. the prizes in the profession are few--so few indeed, as to be quite out of the question for most aspirants. the salaries paid in subordinate positions are very low in most libraries, and even those of head-librarians are not such that one can lay up money on them. a lady assistant librarian in one city said she had found that one of a librarian's proper qualifications was to be able to live on two meals a day. this doubtless was a humorous exaggeration, but it is true that the average salaries hitherto paid in our public libraries, with few exceptions, do not quite come up to those of public school teachers, taking the various grades into account. most of the newly formed libraries are poor, and have to be economical. but there is some reason to hope that as libraries multiply and their unspeakable advantages become more fully appreciated, the standard of compensation for all skilled librarians will rise. i say skilled, because training and experience are the leading elements which command the better salaries, in this, as in other professions. another drawback to be recognized in the librarian's calling, is that there are peculiar trials and vexations connected with it. there are almost no limits to the demands made upon the knowledge and the time of the librarian. in other professions, teaching for example, there are prescribed and well-defined routines of the instruction to be given, and the teacher who thoroughly masters this course, and brings the pupils through it creditably, has nothing to do beyond. the librarian, on the other hand, must be, as it were, a teacher of all sciences and literatures at once. the field to be covered by the wants of readers, and the inquiries that he is expected to answer, are literally illimitable. he cannot rest satisfied with what he has already learned, however expert or learned he may have become; but he must keep on learning forevermore. the new books that are continually flooding him, the new sciences or new developments of old ones that arise, must be so far assimilated that he can give some account of the scope of all of them to inquiring readers. in the third place, there are special annoyances in the service of a public, which includes always some inconsiderate and many ignorant persons, and these will frequently try one's patience, however angelic and forbearing. so, too, the short-comings of library assistants or associates may often annoy him, but as all these trials have been before referred to, it may be added that they are not peculiar to library service, but are liable to occur in the profession of teaching or in any other. in the next place, the peculiar variety and great number of the calls incessantly made upon the librarian's knowledge, constitute a formidable draft upon any but the strongest brain. there is no escape from these continual drafts upon his nervous energy for one who has deliberately chosen to serve in a public library. and he will sometimes find, wearied as he often must be with many cares and a perfect flood of questions, that the most welcome hour of the day is the hour of closing the library. another of the librarian's vexations is frequently the interference with his proper work by the library authorities. committees or trustees to oversee the management and supervise expenditures are necessary to any public library. sometimes they are quick-sighted and intelligent persons, and recognize the importance of letting the librarian work out everything in his own way, when once satisfied that they have got a competent head in charge. but there are sometimes men on a board of library control who are self-conceited and pragmatical, thinking that they know everything about how a library should be managed, when in fact, they are profoundly ignorant of the first rudiments of library science. such men will sometimes overbear their fellows, who may be more intelligent, but not so self-asserting, and so manage as to overrule the best and wisest plans, or the most expedient methods, and vex the very soul of the librarian. in such cases the only remedy is patience and tact. some day, what has been decided wrongly may be reversed, or what has been denied the librarian may be granted, through the conversion of a minority of the trustees into a majority, by the gentle suasion and skilful reasoning of the librarian. there are other drawbacks and discomforts in the course of a librarian's duties which have been referred to in dealing with the daily work under his charge. there remains the fact that the profession is no bed of roses, but a laborious and exacting calling, the price of success in which is an unremitting industry, and energy inexhaustible. but these will not appear very formidable requisites to those who have a native love of work, and it is a fact not to be doubted that work of some kind is the only salvation of every human creature. upon the whole, if the calling of the librarian involves many trials and vexations, it has also many notable compensations. foremost among these is to be reckoned the fact that it opens more and wider avenues to intellectual culture than any other profession whatever. this comes in a two-fold way: first, through the stimulus to research given by the incessant inquiries of readers, and by the very necessity of his being, as a librarian; and secondly, by the rare facilities for investigation and improvement supplied by the ample and varied stores of the library always immediately at hand. other scholars can commonly command but few books, unless able to possess a large private library: their researches in the public one are hampered by the rule that no works of reference can be withdrawn, and that constitutes a very large and essential class, constantly needed by every scholar and writer. the librarian, on the other hand, has them all at his elbow. in the next place, there are few professions which are in themselves so attractive as librarianship. its tendency is both to absorb and to satisfy the intellectual faculties. no where else is the sense of continual growth so palpable; in no other field of labor is such an enlargement of the bounds of one's horizon likely to be found. compare it with the profession of teaching. in that, the mind is chained down to a rigorous course of imparting instruction in a narrow and limited field. one must perforce go on rehearsing the same rudiments of learning, grinding over the same latin gerunds, hearing the same monotonous recitations, month after month, and year after year. this continual threshing over of old straw has its uses, but to an ardent and active mind, it is liable to become very depressing. such a mind would rather be kept on the _qui vive_ of activity by a volley of questions fired at him every hour in a library, than to grind forever in an intellectual tread-mill, with no hope of change and very little of relief. the very variety of the employments which fill up the library hours, the versatility required in the service, contributes to it a certain zest which other professions lack. again, the labors of the librarian bring him into an intimate knowledge of a wide range of books, or at least an acquaintance with authors and titles far more extensive than can be acquired by most persons. the reading of book catalogues is a great and never-ending fascination to one who has a love for books. the information thus acquired of the mighty range of the world's literature and science is of inestimable value. most of it, if retained in a retentive memory, will enable its possessor to answer multitudes of the questions continually put to the librarian. then, too, the service of a public library is a valuable school for the study of human nature. one comes in contact with scholars, men of business, authors, bright young people, journalists, professional men and cultured women, to an extent unequaled by the opportunities of any other calling. this variety of intercourse tends to broaden one's sympathies, to strengthen his powers of observation, to cultivate habits of courtesy, to develop the faculty of adapting himself to all persons--qualities which contribute much to social interest and success. the discipline of such an intercourse may sometimes make out of a silent and bashful recluse, a ready and engaging adept in conversation, able to command the attention and conciliate the regard of all. farther than this, one brought into so wide a circle of communication with others, cannot fail to learn something from at least some among them, and so to receive knowledge as well as to impart it. the curious and diverse elements of character brought out in such intercourse will make their impress, and may have their value. all these many facilities for intellectual intercourse both with books and with men, contribute directly to keep the librarian in contact with all the great objects of human interest. they supply an unfailing stimulus to his intellectual and moral nature. they give any active-minded person rare facilities, not only for the acquisition, but for the communication of ideas. and there is one avenue for such communication that is peculiarly open to one whose mind is stored with the ripe fruits of reading and observation. i mean the field of authorship--not necessarily the authorship of books, but of writing in the form of essays, reviews, lectures, stories or contributions to the periodical press. there are in every community literary societies, clubs, and evening gatherings, where such contributions are always in demand, and always welcomed, in exact proportion to their inherent interest and value. such avenues for the communication of one's thought are of great and sometimes permanent advantage. the knowledge which we acquire is comparatively barren, until it is shared with others. and whether this be in an appreciative circle of listeners, or in the press, it gives a certain stimulus and reward to the thinker and writer, which nothing else can impart. to convey one's best thought to the world is one of the purest and highest of intellectual pleasures. let me add that there are two sides to the question of authorship, as concerns librarians. on the one hand, their advantages for entering that field are undoubtedly superior, both from the ready command of the most abundant material, and from experience in its use. on the other hand, while authorship may be said to be the most besetting temptation of the librarian, it is one that should be steadily resisted whenever it encroaches on the time and attention due to library duties. if he makes it a rule to write nothing and to study nothing for his own objects during library hours, he is safe. some years since it was a common subject of reproach regarding the librarians of several university libraries in england that they were so engaged in writing books, that no scholar could get at them for aid in his literary researches. the librarians and assistants employed in the british museum library, where the hours of service are short, have found time to produce numerous contributions to literature. witness the works, as authors and editors, of sir henry ellis, antonio panizzi, dr. richard garnett, edward edwards, j. winter jones, thomas watts, george smith, and others. and in america, the late justin winsor was one of the most prolific and versatile of authors, while john fiske, once assistant librarian at harvard, reuben a. guild, william f. poole, george h. moore, j. n. larned, frederick saunders and others have been copious contributors to the press. * * * * * in a retrospective view of what has been said in respect to the qualifications of a librarian, it may appear that i have insisted upon too high a standard, and have claimed that he should be possessed of every virtue under heaven. i freely admit that i have aimed to paint the portrait of the ideal librarian; and i have done it in order to show what might be accomplished, rather than what has been accomplished. to set one's mark high--higher even than we are likely to reach, is the surest way to attain real excellence in any vocation. it is very true that it is not given to mortals to achieve perfection: but it is none the less our business to aim at it, and the higher the ideal, the nearer we are likely to come to a notable success in the work we have chosen. librarianship furnishes one of the widest fields for the most eminent attainments. the librarian, more than any other person whatever, is brought into contact with those who are hungering and thirsting after knowledge. he should be able to satisfy those longings, to lead inquirers in the way they should go, and to be to all who seek his assistance a guide, philosopher and friend. of all the pleasures which a generous mind is capable of enjoying, that of aiding and enlightening others is one of the finest and most delightful. to learn continually for one's self is a noble ambition, but to learn for the sake of communicating to others, is a far nobler one. in fact, the librarian becomes most widely useful by effacing himself, as it were, in seeking to promote the intelligence of the community in which he lives. one of the best librarians in the country said that such were the privileges and opportunities of the profession, that one might well afford to live on bread and water for the sake of being a librarian, provided one had no family to support. there is a new and signally marked advance in recent years, in the public idea of what constitutes a librarian. the old idea of a librarian was that of a guardian or keeper of books--not a diffuser of knowledge, but a mere custodian of it. this idea had its origin in ages when books were few, were printed chiefly in dead languages, and rendered still more dead by being chained to the shelves or tables of the library. the librarian might be a monk, or a professor, or a priest, or a doctor of law, or theology, or medicine, but in any case his function was to guard the books, and not to dispense them. those who resorted to the library were kept at arm's length, as it were, and the fewer there were who came, the better the grim or studious custodian was pleased. every inquiry which broke the profound silence of the cloistered library was a kind of rude interruption, and when it was answered, the perfunctory librarian resumed his reading or his studies. the institution appeared to exist, not for the benefit of the people, but for that of the librarian; or for the benefit, besides, of a few sequestered scholars, like himself, and any wide popular use of it would have been viewed as a kind of profanation. we have changed all that in the modern world, and library service is now one of the busiest occupations in the whole range of human enterprise. one cannot succeed in the profession, if his main idea is that a public library is a nice and easy place where one may do one's own reading and writing to the best advantage. a library is an intellectual and material work-shop, in which there is no room for fossils nor for drones. my only conception of a useful library is a library that is used--and the same of a librarian. he should be a lover of books--but not a book-worm. if his tendencies toward idealism are strong, he should hold them in check by addicting himself to steady, practical, every-day work. while careful of all details, he should not be mastered by them. if i have sometimes seemed to dwell upon trifling or obvious suggestions as to temper, or conduct, or methods, let it be remembered that trifles make up perfection, and that perfection is no trifle. i once quoted the saying that "the librarian who reads is lost"; but it would be far truer to say that the librarian who does not read is lost; only he should read wisely and with a purpose. he should make his reading helpful in giving him a wide knowledge of facts, of thoughts, and of illustrations, which will come perpetually in play in his daily intercourse with an inquiring public. chapter . some of the uses of libraries. let us now consider the subject of the uses of public libraries to schools and those connected with them. most town and city libraries are supported, like the free schools, by the public money, drawn from the tax-payers, and supposed to be expended for the common benefit of all the people. it results that one leading object of the library should be to acquire such a collection of books as will be in the highest degree useful to all. and especially should the wants of the younger generation be cared for, since they are always not only nearly one half of the community, but they are also to become the future citizens of the republic. what we learn in youth is likely to make a more marked and lasting impression than what we may acquire in later years. and the public library should be viewed as the most important and necessary adjunct of the school, in the instruction and improvement of the young. each is adapted to supply what the other lacks. the school supplies oral instruction and public exercises in various departments of learning; but it has few or no books, beyond the class text-books which are used in these instructions. the library, on the other hand, is a silent school of learning, free to all, and supplying a wide range of information, in books adapted to every age. it thus supplements, and in proportion to the extent and judicious choice of its collections, helps to complete that education, which the school falls short of. in this view, we see the great importance of making sure that the public library has not only a full supply of the best books in every field, avoiding (as previously urged) the bad or the inferior ones, but also that it has the best juvenile and elementary literature in ample supply. this subject of reading for the young has of late years come into unprecedented prominence. formerly, and even up to the middle of our century, very slight attention was paid to it, either by authors or readers. whole generations had been brought up on the new england primer, with its grotesque wood-cuts, and antique theology in prose and verse, with a few moral narratives in addition, as solemn as a meeting-house, like the "dairyman's daughter," the "history of sandford and merton," or "the shepherd of salisbury plain." very dreary and melancholy do such books appear to the frequenters of our modern libraries, filled as they now are with thousands of volumes of lively and entertaining juvenile books. the transition from the old to the new in this class of literature was through the sunday-school and religious tract society books, professedly adapted to the young. while some of these had enough of interest to be fairly readable, if one had no other resource, the mass were irredeemably stale and poor. the mawkishness of the sentiment was only surpassed by the feebleness of the style. at last, weary of the goody-goody and artificial school of juvenile books, which had been produced for generations, until a surfeit of it led to something like a nausea in the public mind, there came a new type of writers for the young, who at least began to speak the language of reason. the dry bones took on some semblance of life and of human nature, and boys and girls were painted as real boys and genuine girls, instead of lifeless dolls and manikins. the reformation went on, until we now have a world of books for the young to choose from, very many of which are fresh and entertaining. but the very wealth and redundancy of such literature is a new embarrassment to the librarian, who must indispensably make a selection, since no library can have or ought to have it all. recurring to the function of the public library as the coadjutor of the school, let us see what classes of books should form essential parts of its stores. . as geography, or an account of the earth on which we live, is a fundamental part of education, the library should possess a liberal selection of the best books in that science. the latest general gazetteer of the world, the best modern and a good ancient atlas, one or more of the great general collections of voyages, a set of baedeker's admirable and inexpensive guide books, and descriptive works or travels in nearly all countries--those in america and europe predominating--should be secured. the scholars of all grades will thus be able to supplement their studies by ready reference, and every part of the globe will lie open before them, as it were, by the aid of the library. . the best and latest text-books in all the sciences, as geology, chemistry, natural history, physics, botany, agriculture, mechanic arts, mathematics, mental and moral science, architecture, fine arts, music, sociology, political science, etc., should be accessible. . every important history, with all the latest manuals or elementary books in general and national history should be found. . the great collections of biography, with separate lives of all noted characters, should be provided. . dictionaries, cyclopaedias, statistical annuals, and other books of reference will be needed in abundance. . a small but select number of approved works in law, medicine, and theology should be embraced in the library. . i need not add that the poets and novelists should be well represented, as that goes without saying in all popular libraries. and special attention should be paid to building up a collection of the best books for juvenile readers, such as have passed the ordeal of good critical judgment among the librarians, as eminently fit to be read. there are several useful catalogues of such reading, as: caroline m. hewins' "books for the young," g. e. hardy's "five hundred books for the young," and the admirable "list of books for girls and women" by augusta h. leypoldt and geo. iles, contributed to by many experts, and copiously supplied with notes describing the scope and quality of the books. the last two are published by the library bureau. with this broad equipment of the best books in every field, and vigilance in constant exercise to add fresh stores from the constantly appearing and often improved text-books in every science, the library will be a treasury of knowledge both for teachers and pupils in the schools. and the fact should not be overlooked, that there will be found as much growth for teachers as for scholars in such a collection of books. very few teachers, save those of well-furnished minds and of much careful reading, are competent to guide their scholars into the highways and byways of knowledge, as the librarian should be able to do. to establish a relation of confidence and aid with teachers is the preliminary step to be taken in order to make the library at once practically useful to them and to their scholars. in case there are several public schools in charge of a general superintendent, that officer should be first consulted, and tendered the free aid of the library and its librarian for himself and the teachers. in some public libraries, the school superintendent is made an _ex officio_ member of the library board. then suitable regulations should be mutually agreed upon, fixing the number of books to be drawn on account of the schools at any one time, and the period of return to the library. it is most usual to charge such books on teachers' cards, or account, to fix responsibility, although the teachers loan them to the scholars at their option. in places where there are no school libraries proper, the public library will need to provide a goodly number of duplicates, in order to meet the special school demand. this, however, will usually be of low-priced rather than costly books, as the elementary text-books do not draw heavily upon library funds. a very attractive feature in providing books for the young is the large number of illustrated books now available to all libraries. all the kingdoms of nature are depicted in these introductory manuals of science, rendering its pursuit more interesting, and cultivating the habits of observation of form and of proportion, in the minds of the young. pupils who have never accomplished anything in school have been roused by interest in illustrated natural histories to take an eager interest in learning all about birds and animals. this always leads on and up to other study, since the mind that is once awakened to observation and to thought, needs only a slight guidance to develop an unappeasable hunger for finding out all about things. the ancient maxim that "it is only the first step that costs" is especially true in the great art of education. it matters little what it is that first awakens the intellect--the great fact is that it is awakened, and sleeps no more thenceforward. a mottled bird's egg, found on the way to school, excites the little finder to ascertain the name of the bird that laid it. the school or the teacher supplies no means of finding out, but the public library has books upon birds, with colored plates of their eggs, and an eager search ensues, until the young student is rewarded by finding the very bird, with its name, plumage, habits, size, and season, all described. that child has taken an enormous step forward on the road to knowledge, which will never be forgotten. instances might be multiplied indefinitely of such valuable aids to research, afforded by libraries, all along the innumerable roads travelled by students of every age in search of information. one of the most profitable of school exercises is to take up successively the great men and notable women of the past, and, by the effective and practical aid of the libraries, to find out what is best worth knowing about columbus, franklin, walter scott, irving, prescott, bancroft, longfellow, hawthorne, whittier, emerson, lowell, victor hugo, or others too numerous to name. reading longfellow's evangeline will lead one to search out the history and geography of acadia, and so fix indelibly the practical facts concerned, as well as the imagery of a fine poem. so in the notable events of history, if a study is made of the english commonwealth, or the french revolution, or the war between the united states and england in - , the library will supply the student with copious materials for illustration. not alone in the fields of science, history, and biography, but in the attractive fields of literature, also, can the libraries aid and supplement the teachings of the school. a fine poem, or a simple, humorous, or pathetic story, told with artless grace or notable literary skill, when read aloud by a teacher in school, awakens a desire in many to have the same book at home to read, re-read, and perhaps commit to memory the finer passages. what more inspiring or pleasing reading than some of longfellow's poems, or the vicar of wakefield, or milton's l'allegro and il penseroso, or saintine's picciola, or selections from the poems of holmes, whittier, kipling, or lowell? for all these and similar wants, the library has an unfailing supply. as a practical illustration of the extensive, use of books by schools in some advanced communities, i may note that librarian green, of the worcester (mass.) public library, said in that his average daily account of the books loaned to schools in two busy winter months showed over , volumes thus in daily use. this too, was in addition to all that were drawn out by pupils on their own independent cards as borrowers. such a record speaks volumes. in the same city, where the massachusetts state normal school is located, sixty-four per cent. of the scholars visited the library to look up subjects connected with their studies. a forcible argument for librarians taking an interest in reading for schools is that both parents and teachers often neglect to see that the young get only proper books to read. the children are themselves quite ignorant what to choose, and if left to themselves, are likely to choose unwisely, and to read story papers or quite unimproving books. their parents, busied as they are, commonly give no thought to the matter, and are quite destitute of that knowledge of the various classes of books which it is the province of the librarian to know and to discriminate. teachers themselves do not possess this special knowledge, except in rare instances, and have to become far more conversant with libraries than is usual, in order to acquire it. that the very young, left to themselves, will choose many bad or worthless books is shown in the account of a principal of a school in san francisco, who found that sixty per cent. of the books drawn from the public library by pupils had been dime novels, or other worthless literature. the wide prevalence of the dime novel evil appeared in the report of the reading of , boys in a western new york city. out of this number, (or nearly one-half) were in the habit of devouring this pernicious trash, procured in most cases by purchase at the news stands. the matter was taken up by teachers, and, by wise direction and by aid of the public library, the reading of these youthful candidates for citizenship was led into more improving fields. to lead a mind in the formative stage from the low to the high, from tales of wild adventure to the best stories for the young, is by no means difficult. take a book that you know is wholesome and entertaining, and it will be eagerly read by almost every one. there is an endless variety of good books adapted to the most rudimentary capacity. even young minds can become interested in the works of standard writers, if the proper selection is made. wonderful is the stimulus which the reading of a purely written, fascinating book gives to the young mind. it opens the way for more books and for infinite growth. all that is needed is to set the youth in the right direction, and he will go forward with rapid strides of his own accord. this teaching how to read is really the most profitable part of any education. to recite endless lessons is not education: and one book eagerly read through, has often proved more valuable than all the text-books that ever were printed. the uses of the library to the university. closely allied to the benefits derived from the library by the teachers and scholars in public schools are its uses to all those engaged in the pursuit of higher education. for our colleges and universities and their researches, the library must have all that we have suggested as important for the schools, and a great deal more. the term university implies an education as broad as the whole world of books can supply: yet we must here meet with limitations that are inevitable. in this country we have to regret the application of the word "university" to institutions where the training is only academical, or at the highest, collegiate. the university, properly speaking, is an institution for the most advanced scholars or graduates of our colleges. just as the college takes up and carries forward the training of those who have been through the academy, the seminary, or the high school, so it is the function of the university to carry forward (we will not say complete) the education of the graduate of the college. no education is ever completed: the doctor who has received the highest honors at the university has only begun his education--for that is to go on through life--and who knows how far beyond? now the aid which a well equipped library can furnish to all these higher institutions of learning, the academy, the seminary, the college, and the university, is quite incalculable. their students are constantly engaged upon themes which not only demand the text-books they study, but collateral illustrations almost without number. the professors, too, who impart instruction, perpetually need to be instructed themselves, with fuller knowledge upon the themes they are daily called upon to elucidate. there is no text-book that can teach all, or anywhere near all there is upon the subject it professes to cover. so the library, which has many books upon that subject, comes in to supply its deficiencies. and the librarian is useful to the professors and students just in proportion as he knows, not the contents, but the range of books upon each subject sought to be investigated. here is where the subject catalogue, or the dictionary catalogue, combining the subjects and the authors under a single alphabet, comes into play. but, as no catalogue of subjects was ever yet up to date in any considerable library, the librarian should be able to supplement the catalogue by his own knowledge of later works in any line of inquiry. the most profitable studies carried on in libraries are, beyond all question, what we may term topical researches. to pursue one subject though many authorities is the true way to arrive at comprehensive knowledge. and in this kind of research, the librarian ought to be better equipped than any who frequent his library. why? simply because his business is bibliography; which is not the business of learned professors, or other scholars who visit the library. the late librarian winsor said that he considered the librarian's instruction far more valuable than that of the specialist. and this may be owing largely to the point of view, as well as to the training, of each. the specialist, perhaps, is an enthusiast or a devotee to his science, and so apt to give undue importance to the details of it, or to magnify some one feature: the librarian, on the other hand, who is nothing if not comprehensive, takes the larger view of the wide field of literature on each subject, and his suggestions concerning sources of information are correspondingly valuable. in those constantly arising questions which form the subjects of essays or discussions in all institutions of learning, the well-furnished library is an unfailing resource. the student who finds his unaided mind almost a blank upon the topic given out for treatment, resorts at once to the public library, searches catalogues, questions the librarian, and surrounds himself with books and periodicals which may throw light upon it. he is soon master of facts and reasonings which enable him to start upon a train of thought that bears fruit in an essay or discourse. in fact, it may be laid down as an axiom, that nearly every new book that is written is indebted to the library for most of its ideas, its facts, or its illustrations, so that libraries actually beget libraries. some of the endlessly diversified uses of a well-equipped library, not only to scholars but to the general public, may here be referred to. among the most sought for sources of information, the periodical press, both of the past and the current time, holds a prominent rank. when it is considered how far-reaching are the fields embraced in the wide range of these periodicals, literary, religious, scientific, political, technical, philosophical, social, medical, legal, educational, agricultural, bibliographical, commercial, financial, historical, mechanical, nautical, military, artistic, musical, dramatic, typographical, sanitary, sporting, economic, and miscellaneous, is it any wonder that specialists and writers for the press seek and find ready aid therein for their many-sided labors? to the skeptical mind, accustomed to undervalue what does not happen to come within the range of his pet idols or pursuits, the observation of a single day's multifold research in a great library might be in the nature of a revelation. hither flock the ever-present searchers into family history, laying under contribution all the genealogies and town and county histories which the country has produced. here one finds an industrious compiler intent upon the history of american duels, for which the many files of northern and southern newspapers, reaching back to the beginning of the century, afford copious material. at another table sits a deputation from a government department, commissioned to make a record of all notable strikes and labor troubles for a series of years, to be gleaned from the columns of the journals of leading cities. an absorbed reader of french romances sits side by side with a clergyman perusing homilies, or endeavoring to elucidate, through a mass of commentators, a special text. here are to be found ladies in pursuit of costumes of every age; artists turning over the great folio galleries of europe for models or suggestions; lawyers seeking precedents or leading cases; journalists verifying dates, speeches, conventions, or other forgotten facts; engineers studying the literature of railways or machinery; actors or amateurs in search of plays or works on the dramatic art; physicians looking up biographies of their profession or the history of epidemics; students of heraldry after coats of arms; inventors searching the specifications and drawings of patents; historical students pursuing some special field in american or foreign annals; scientists verifying facts or citations by original authorities; searchers tracing personal residences or deaths in old directories or newspapers; querists seeking for the words of some half-remembered passage in poetry or prose, or the original author of one of the myriad proverbs which have no father; architects or builders of houses comparing hundreds of designs and models; teachers perusing works on education or comparing text-books new or old; readers absorbing the great poems of the world; writers in pursuit of new or curious themes among books of antiquities or folk-lore; students of all the questions of finance and economic science; naturalists seeking to trace through many volumes descriptions of species; pursuers of military or naval history or science; enthusiasts venturing into the occult domains of spiritualism or thaumaturgy; explorers of voyages and travels in every region of the globe; fair readers, with dreamy eyes, devouring the last psychological novel; devotees of musical art perusing the lives or the scores of great composers; college and high-school students intent upon "booking up" on themes of study or composition or debate; and a host of other seekers after suggestion or information in a library of encyclopedic range. chapter . the history of libraries. the library, from very early times, has enlisted the enthusiasm of the learned, and the encomiums of the wise. the actual origin of the earliest collection of books (or rather of manuscripts) is lost in the mists of remote antiquity. notwithstanding professed descriptions of several libraries found in aulus gellius, athenaeus, and others, who wrote centuries after the alleged collections were made, we lack the convincing evidence of eye-witnesses and contemporaries. but so far as critical research has run, the earliest monuments of man which approached collections of written records are found not in europe, but in africa and asia. that land of wonders, egypt, abounds in hieroglyphic inscriptions, going back, as is agreed by modern scholars, to the year before the christian era. a papyrus manuscript, too, exists, which is assigned to about b. c. and the earliest recorded collection of books in the world, though perhaps not the first that existed, was that of the egyptian king ramses i.--b. c. , near thebes, which diodorus siculus says bore the inscription "dispensary of the soul." thus early were books regarded as remedial agents of great force and virtue. but before the library of ramses the egyptian king, there existed in babylonia collections of books, written not on parchment, nor on the more perishable papyrus, but on clay. whole poems, fables, laws, and hymns of the gods have been found, stamped in small characters upon baked bricks. these clay tablets or books were arranged in numerical order, and the library at agane, which existed about b. c. even had a catalogue, in which each piece of literature was numbered, so that readers had only to write down the number of the tablet wanted, and the librarian would hand it over. two of these curious poems in clay have been found intact, one on the deluge, the other on the descent of istar into hades. the next ancient library in point of time yet known to us was gathered in asia by an assyrian king, and this collection has actually come down to us, _in propria persona_. buried beneath the earth for centuries, the archaeologist layard discovered in at nineveh, an extensive collection of tablets or tiles of clay, covered with cuneiform characters, and representing some ten thousand distinct works or documents. the assyrian monarch sardanapalus, a great patron of letters, was the collector of this primitive and curious library of clay. he flourished about b. c. in greece, where a copious and magnificent literature had grown up centuries before christ, pisistratus collected a library at athens, and died b. c. . when xerxes captured athens, this collection, which represents the earliest record of a library dedicated to the public, was carried off to persia, but restored two centuries later. the renowned philosopher aristotle gathered one of the largest greek libraries, about b. c. said to have embraced about volumes, or rather, rolls. plato called aristotle's residence "the house of the reader." this library, also, was carried off to scepsis, and later by the victorious sulla to rome. history shows that the greek collections were the earliest "travelling libraries" on record, though they went as the spoils of war, and not to spread abroad learning by the arts of peace. rome having conquered athens, we hear no more of the athenian libraries, but the seat of ancient learning was transferred to alexandria, where were gathered under the liberal sway of the ptolemies, more books than had ever been assembled together in any part of the world. marc antony presented to cleopatra the library of the kings of pergamus, said to have contained , rolls. there is no space to sketch the ancient libraries, so scantily commemorated, of greece. through aristotle's enthusiasm for learning, as it is believed, the ptolemies were fired with the zeal of book-collecting, and their capital of alexandria became the seat of extensive libraries, stored in the brucheion and the serapeum. here, according to general belief, occurred the burning of the famous alexandrian library of , volumes, by the saracens under omar, a. d. . if any one would have an object lesson in the uncertainties of history and of human testimony, let him read the various conflicting accounts of the writers who have treated upon this subject. the number of volumes varies from , , as stated by aulus gellius, to , by eusebius. the fact that in ancient times each book or division of an author's work written on a roll of papyrus was reckoned as a volume, may account for the exaggeration, since the nine books of herodotus would thus make nine volumes, and the twenty-four of homer's iliad, twenty-four volumes, instead of one. so, by an arbitrary application of averages, the size of the alexandrian library might be brought within reasonable dimensions, though there is nothing more misleading than the doctrine of averages, unless indeed it be a false analogy. but that any library eight hundred years before the invention of printing contained , volumes in the modern sense of the word, when the largest collection in the world, three centuries after books began to be multiplied by types, held less than , volumes, is one of the wildest fictions which writers have imposed upon the credulity of ages. i cannot even touch upon the libraries of the romans, though we have very attractive accounts, among others, of the literary riches of lucullus, of atticus, and of cicero. the first library in rome was founded b. c. and in the augustan age they multiplied, until there were twenty-nine public libraries in hadrian's time, a. d. the emperor julian, in the fourth century, was a founder of libraries, and is said to have placed over the doors this inscription: "_alii quidem equos amant, alii oves, alii feros; mihi vero a puerulo mirandum acquirendi et possidendi libros insedit desiderium._" the libraries of the middle ages were neither large nor numerous. the neglect of learning and of literature was wide-spread; only in the monasteries of europe were to be found scholars who kept alive the sacred flame. in these were renewed those fruitful labors of the _scriptorium_ which had preserved and multiplied so many precious books in classic times among the romans. the monks, indeed, were not seldom creators as well as copyists, though the works which they composed were mainly theological (as became their sacred profession and ascetic life). the latin, however, being the almost universal language for so many centuries, the love of learning conspired to widen the field of monastic study. many zealous ecclesiastics were found who revived the classic authors, and copies of the works of poets, historians, philosophers and rhetoricians were multiplied. then were gradually formed those monastic libraries to which so many thousands of mediaeval scholars owed a debt of gratitude. the order of benedictines took a leading and effective part in this revival of learning. taxes were levied on the inmates of monasteries expressly for furnishing the library with books, and the novices in many houses must contribute writing materials upon entering, and books at the close of their novitiate, for the enrichment of the library. among notably valuable libraries, several of which still survive, were those of monte cassino in italy, the abbey of fleury in france, st. gall in switzerland, and that of the illustrious congregation of st. maur in france. the latter had at one time no less than one hundred and seven writers engaged in multiplying books. the first library in england is recorded (in the canterbury chartulary) to have been given by pope gregory the great, and brought by st. augustine, first archbishop of canterbury, on his mission to england about a. d. . it consisted of nine precious volumes on vellum, being copies of parts of the scriptures, with commentaries, and a volume of lives of the martyrs. the library of the benedictine monastery at canterbury had grown in the th century to titles, being very rich in theology, but with many books also in history, poetry and science. at york had been founded, in the th century, a noble library by archbishop egbert, and the great scholar alcuin here acquired, amidst that "infinite number of excellent books," his life-long devotion to literature. when he removed to tours, in france, he lamented the loss of the literary treasures of york, in a poem composed of excellent hexameters. he begged of charlemagne to send into britain to procure books, "that the garden of paradise may not be confined to york." fine libraries were also gathered at the monasteries of durham, of glastonbury, and of croyland, and at the abbeys of whitby and peterborough. nor were the orders of franciscans and dominicans far behind as book-collectors, though they commonly preferred to buy rather than to transcribe manuscripts, like the benedictines. "in every convent of friars," wrote fitzralph to the pope, in , "there is a large and noble library." and richard de bury, bishop of durham, and chancellor of england in , whose "philobiblon" is the most eloquent treatise in praise of books ever written, said, when visiting places where the mendicants had convents; "there amid the deepest poverty, we found the most precious riches stored up." the pope, it appears, relaxed for these orders the rigor of their vows of poverty, in favor of amassing books--mindful, doubtless, of that saying of solomon the wise--"therefore get wisdom, because it is better than gold." richard de bury, the enthusiast of learning, wrote thus: "the library, therefore, of wisdom is more precious than all riches, and nothing that can be wished for is worthy to be compared with it. whosoever, therefore, acknowledges himself to be a zealous follower of the truth, of happiness, of wisdom, of science, or even of the faith, must of necessity make himself a lover of books." and said joseph hall, bishop of norwich--"i can wonder at nothing more than how a man can be idle--but of all others a scholar; in so many improvements of reason, in such sweetness of knowledge, in such variety of studies, in such importunity of thoughts. to find wit in poetry; in philosophy profoundness; in history wonder of events; in oratory, sweet eloquence; in divinity, supernatural light and holy devotion--whom would it not ravish with delight?" charles the fifth of france amassed a fine library, afterwards sold to an english nobleman. lorenzo de medici, of hungary, and frederic duke of urbino, each gathered in the th century a magnificent collection of books. all of these became widely dispersed in later years, though the manuscripts of the duke of urbino's collection are preserved in the library of the vatican. i may here note a very few of the most extensive library collections now existing in europe and america. . of the great public libraries of europe, which owe much of their riches to the government privilege of the copy-tax, the national library of france is the oldest and the largest, now numbering two million six hundred thousand volumes. founded in the th century, it has had four hundred years of opportunity for steady and large increase. paris abounds in other public libraries also, in which respect it is far superior to london. . next to the bibliothèque nationale of france, comes the library of the british museum, with , , volumes, very rich both in manuscripts and in printed books in all languages. a liberal parliamentary grant of $ , a year for purchase of books and manuscripts keeps this great collection well up to date as to all important new works, besides enabling it constantly to fill up deficiencies in the literature of the past. following this, among the great libraries having over half a million books, come in numerical order volumes. . russian imperial library, st. petersburg, , , . royal library of prussia, berlin, , , . royal library of bavaria, munich, , . library of congress, washington city, , . boston public library, , . university library, strasburg, germany, , . imperial public library, vienna, , . bodleian library, oxford , it is a notable fact that among the richest monuments of learning that have been gathered by mankind, the university libraries hold a very high rank. reckoned in number of volumes, there are many of them which far outrank the government libraries, except in six instances. out of libraries, all exceeding , volumes, as reported in the annual _minerva_, in october, , no less than are the libraries of universities. strasburg heads the list, with a noble collection of , volumes; then oxford university, whose bodleian library numbers , ; leipzig university, , ; cambridge university, england, göttingen university, and harvard university, , each; the university of vienna, , ; the universities of heidelberg and of munich, , each; ghent and würzburg universities, , each; christiania, norway, university, and tübingen, each , ; university of chicago, , ; copenhagen university, , ; breslau, cracow, rostock and upsala, , each; yale university, new haven, , ; st. petersburg, , ; bologna, , ; freiburg and bonn universities, , each; prague, , ; trinity, dublin, , ; königsberg, , ; kiel, , ; naples, , ; and buda-pest, , . i need not detain you by enumerating those that fall below , volumes, but will say that the whole number of volumes in the university libraries embraced in my table is more than fifteen millions, which would be much enlarged if smaller libraries were included. a noble exhibit is this, which the institutions of the highest education hold up before us. * * * * * we may now consider, somewhat more in detail as to particulars, the origin and growth of the libraries of the united states. the record will show an amazingly rapid development, chiefly accomplished during the last quarter of a century, contrasted with the lamentably slow growth of earlier years. thirty years ago the present year, i was invited to give to the american social science association, then meeting at new york, a discourse upon public libraries in the united states. on recurring to this address, i have been agreeably surprised to find how completely its facts and figures belong to the domain of ancient history. for, while it may excite a smile to allude to anything belonging to a period only thirty years back as ancient history, yet, so rapid has been the accumulation, not only of books, but of libraries themselves in that brief period of three decades, as almost to justify the term employed. antiquarians must ever regard with interest the first efforts for the establishment of public libraries in the new world. the first record of books dedicated to a public purpose in that part of this country now occupied by the english-speaking race is, i believe, to be found in the following entry in the records of the virginia company of london: "november , .--after the acts of the former courte were read, a straunger stept in presentinge a mapp of s^r walter rawlighes contayinge a descripcon of guiana, and with the same fower great books as the guifte of one unto the company that desyred his name might not be made knowne, whereof one booke was a treatise of st. augustine of the citty of god translated into english, the other three greate volumes wer the works of mr. perkins' newlie corrected and amended, wch books the donor desyred they might be sent to the colledge in virginia there to remayne in saftie to the use of the collegiates thereafter, and not suffered at any time to be sent abroade or used in the meane while. for wch so worthy a guifte my lord of southampton desyred the p'tie that presented them to returne deserued thanks from himselfe and the rest of the company to him that had so kindly bestowed them."[ ] the college here referred to was the first ever founded in america, and was seated at henrico, at the confluence of the james river with the chickahominy. it was designed not only for the education of the virginia settlers, but to teach science and christianity to the indians. large contributions were raised in england by sir edwin sandys, and others of the virginia company, for its support. but this virginia college and its incipient library were doomed to a speedy extinction. like so many other brilliant "prospects for planting arts and learning in america," it did not survive the perils of the colonial epoch. it was brought to a period by the bloody indian massacre of march , , when three hundred and forty-seven of the virginia settlers were slaughtered in a day, the new settlement broken up, and the expanding lines of civilization contracted to the neighborhood of jamestown. harvard university library was founded in by the endowment of john harvard, who bequeathed to the new college his library and half of his estate. soon afterwards enriched by the zealous contributions of english puritans and philosophers, of berkeley, and baxter, and lightfoot, and sir kenelm digby, the first university library in america, after a century and a quarter of usefulness, was totally destroyed with the college edifice in the year by fire. when we contemplate the ravages of this element, which has consumed so many noble libraries, destroying not only printed books of priceless value, but often precious manuscripts which are unique and irreplaceable, a lively sense of regret comes over us that these creations of the intellect, which should be imperishable, are even yet at the mercy of an accident in all the libraries of the world save a very few. the destruction of books in private hands is natural and inevitable enough, and goes on continually. whole editions of books, now sought with avidity as the rarest volumes known to literature, have been gradually destroyed in innumerable fires, worn out in the hands of readers, used for waste paper by grocers and petty tradesmen, swallowed up in the sack of towns, or consumed by dampness, mould, or, in rare instances, by the remorseless tooth of time. yet there have always existed public libraries enough, had they been fire-proof, to have preserved many copies of every book bequeathed to the world, both before the invention of printing and since. but, when your insurance office is bankrupt, what becomes of the insured? when nearly all our public libraries are so constructed as to become an easy prey to the flames, the loss of so many books which have completely perished from the earth ceases to be wonderful. the growth of harvard university library, from its second foundation a century ago, has been steady, though at no time rapid. select and valuable in its principal contents, it has received numerous benefactions from the friends of learning, and promises to become the best, as it already is much the largest, among the university libraries of the country. its present strength is about , volumes. the year witnessed the birth of the first new york library open to public use. the rev. john sharp, then chaplain of his majesty's forces in that city (it was in the days of good king william of orange), bequeathed his private collection of books to found a "public library" in new york. the library thus organized was placed in charge of the corporation of the city, but the first city library of new york languished with little or no increase until , when a society of gentlemen undertook to found a public library by subscription, and succeeded so well that the city authorities turned over to them what remained of the public city library. this was the beginning of the new york society library, one of the largest of the proprietary libraries of the country. it was then, and for a long time afterwards, commonly known as "the city library." the continental congress profited by its stores, there being no other library open to their use; and the first congress under the constitution, which met in new york in , received the free use of the books it contained. the library is conducted on the share system, the payment of twenty-five dollars, and an annual assessment of six dollars, giving any one the privilege of membership. it now contains about , volumes. the same year, , in which the new york library was founded, ten connecticut ministers met together at lyme, each bringing a number of books, and saying, "i give these books for the founding of a college in this colony." such was the foundation of yale university, an institution that has done inestimable service to the cause of letters, having been fruitful of writers of books, as well as of living contributions to the ranks of every learned profession. thirty years later, we find the good bishop berkeley pausing from the lofty speculations which absorbed him, to send over to yale college what was called "the finest collection of books that ever came together at one time into america." for a century and a half the growth of this library was very slow, the college being oppressed with poverty. in , the number of volumes had risen only to , , but it is cheering to relate that the last thirty years have witnessed a growth so rapid that in yale university library had , volumes. the fourth considerable library founded in the united states was due in a large degree to the industry and zeal for knowledge of the illustrous franklin. as unquestionably the first established proprietary library in america, the library company of philadelphia merits especial notice. let us reverently take a leaf out of the autobiography of the printer-statesman of pennsylvania: "and now i set on foot my first project of a public nature, that for a subscription library. i drew up the proposals, got them put into form by our great scrivener, brockden, and by the help of my friends in the junto [the junto was a club for mutual improvement, founded by franklin] procured fifty subscribers at forty shillings each to begin with, and ten shillings a year for fifty years, the term our company was to continue. we afterwards obtained a charter, the company being increased to one hundred; this was the mother of all the north american subscription libraries now so numerous. it is become a great thing itself, and continually increasing. these libraries have improved the general conversation of the americans, made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defence of their privileges." when this philadelphia library was founded, in , not a single city or town in england possessed a subscription library. even the library of the british museum, since become the greatest collection of books in the world, save one, was not opened until , more than a quarter of a century afterwards. although not designed as a public library of circulation, save to its own subscribers, the philadelphia library has been kept free to all for reference and consultation. the record of the gradual increase of the first philadelphia library from its first few hundred volumes, when franklin was but twenty-five years of age, to its present rank as the largest proprietary library in america, with , volumes of books, is highly interesting. its history, in fact, is to a large extent the history of intellectual culture in philadelphia, which remained, until the second decade in the present century, the foremost city of the union in population, and, from to , the seat of government of the united states. the philadelphia library company, in , voted that "the gentlemen who were to meet in congress" in that city should be furnished with such books as they might have occasion for; and the same privilege was exercised on the return of the government to that city, in , and until the removal of congress to washington in . during the nine months' occupation of philadelphia by the british army, it is refreshing to read that the conquerors lifted no spear against the muses' bower, but that "the officers, without exception, left deposits, and paid hire for the books borrowed by them." the collection, in respect of early printed books, is one of the largest and most valuable in america, embracing some books and files of newspapers which are to be found in no other public library. the selection of new books has been kept unusually free from the masses of novels and other ephemeral publications which overload most of our popular libraries, and the collection, although limited in extent in every field, and purposely leaving special topics, such as the medical and natural sciences, to the scientific libraries which abound in philadelphia, affords to the man of letters a good working library. the shares in the library cost forty dollars, with an annual assessment of four dollars to each stockholder. in , the great bequest of doctor james rush to the philadelphia library of his whole property, valued at over $ , , , was accepted by its stockholders, by the bare majority of five votes in a poll of over five hundred. this lack of harmony is attributable to the fact that the bequest, so generous in itself, was hampered by the donor with numerous conditions, deemed by many friends of the library to be highly onerous and vexatious. not the least among these was the following, which is cited from the will itself: "let the library not keep cushioned seats for time-wasting and lounging readers, nor places for every-day novels, mind-tainting reviews, controversial politics, scribblings of poetry and prose, biographies of unknown names, nor for those teachers of disjointed thinking, the daily newspapers." here is one more melancholy instance of a broad and liberal bequest narrowly bestowed. the spirit which animated the respectable testator in attempting to exclude the larger part of modern literature from the library which his money was to benefit may have been unexceptionable enough. doubtless there are evils connected with a public supply of frivolous and trifling literature; and perhaps our periodicals may be justly chargeable with devoting an undue proportion of their columns to topics of merely ephemeral interest. but it should never be forgotten that the literature of any period is and must be largely occupied with the questions of the day. thus, and thus only, it becomes a representative literature, and it is precious to posterity in proportion as it accurately reflects the spirit, the prejudices, and the personalities of a time which has passed into history, leaving behind it no living representatives. if we admit that the development of the human intellect at any particular period is worth studying, then all books are, or may become, useful. it is amazing that a person with any pretensions to discernment should denounce newspapers as unfitted to form a part of a public library. the best newspapers of the time are sometimes the best books of the time. a first-class daily journal is an epitome of the world, recording the life and the deeds of men, their laws and their literature, their politics and religion, their social and criminal statistics, the progress of invention and of art, the revolutions of empires, and the latest results of science. grant that newspapers are prejudiced, superficial, unfair; so also are books. grant that the journals often give place to things scurrilous and base; but can there be anything baser or more scurrilous than are suffered to run riot in books? there is to be found hidden away in the pages of some books such filth as no man would dare to print in a newspaper, from fear of the instant wrath of the passers-by. when i consider the debt which libraries and literature alike owe to the daily and weekly press, it is difficult to characterize with patience the parthian arrow flung at it from the grave of a querulous millionaire, who will owe to these very newspapers the greater part of his success and his reputation. the father of the respectable testator, doctor benjamin rush, has left on record many learned speculations concerning the signs and evidences of lunacy. we may now add to the number the vagaries of the author of a ponderous work on the human intellect, who gravely proposed to hand over to posterity an expurgated copy of the nineteenth century, with all its newspapers left out. the library of congress, or, as it was called in its first general catalogue in , "the library of the united states," was founded in , by the purchase of five thousand dollars' worth of books by act of congress, upon the removal of the government to washington. by the act of january , , entitled "an act concerning the library for the use of both houses of congress," this library was placed in charge of a joint committee of both houses of congress, consisting of three senators and three representatives, and a librarian, to be appointed by the president of the united states. it had grown to the number of only , volumes in , when the british army made a bonfire of our national capitol, and the library was consumed in the ruins. the first library of congress being thus destroyed, ex-president jefferson, then living, involved in debt, and in his old age, at monticello, offered his fine private library of , volumes to congress, through friends in that body, the terms of payment to be made convenient to the public, and the price to be fixed by a committee. the proposition met with able advocacy and also with some warm opposition. it is illustrative of the crude conceptions regarding the uses of books which prevailed in the minds of some members, that the library was objected to on the somewhat incongruous grounds of embracing too many editions of the bible, and a number of the french writers in skeptical philosophy. it was gravely proposed to pack up this portion of the library, and return it to the illustrious owner at monticello, paying him for the remainder. more enlightened counsels, however, prevailed, and the nation became possessed, for about $ , , of a good basis for a public library which might become worthy of the country. the collection thus formed grew by slow accretion until, in , it had accumulated , volumes. on the th of december in that year, a defective flue in the capitol set fire to the wood-work with which the whole library was surrounded, and the result was a conflagration, from which , volumes only were saved. congress at once appropriated, with praiseworthy liberality, $ , for the purchase of new books, and $ , for rebuilding the library room in solid iron; the first instance of the employment of that safe and permanent material, so capable of the lightest and most beautiful architectural effects, in the entire interior structure of any public building. the appropriation of $ , was principally expended in the purchase of standard english literature, including complete sets of many important periodicals, and a selection of the more costly works in science and the fine arts. in , two wings, each as large as the central library, and constructed of the same fire-proof material, were added to it, and quickly filled by the accession, the same year and the following, of two large libraries, that of the smithsonian institution, and the historical library of peter force, of washington. the latter was the largest private library ever then brought together in the united states, but its chief value consisted in its possession of a very great proportion of the books relating to the settlement, history, topography, and politics of america, its , pamphlets, its files of early newspapers of the revolution, its early printed books, and its rich assemblage of maps and manuscripts, many of the latter being original autographs of the highest historical interest, including military letters and papers of the period of the american revolution. the smithsonian library, the custody of which was accepted by congress as a trust, is rich in scientific works in all the languages of europe, and forms an extensive and appropriate supplement to the library of congress, the chief strength of which lies in jurisprudence, political science, history, and books relating to america. yet no department of literature or science has been left unrepresented in its formation, and the fact has been kept steadily in view that the library of the government must become, sooner or later, a universal one. as the only library which is entitled to the benefit of the copyright law, by which copies of each publication for which the government grants an exclusive right must be deposited in the national library, this collection must become annually more important as an exponent of the growth of american literature. this wise provision of law prevents the dispersion or destruction of books that tend continually to disappear; a benefit to the cause of letters, the full value of which it requires slight reflection to estimate. this national library now embraces , volumes, besides about , pamphlets. it is freely open, as a library of reference and reading, to the whole people; but the books are not permitted to be drawn out, except by senators and representatives and a few officials for use at the seat of government. its new, commodious and beautiful building, which may fitly be called the book-palace of the american people, open day and evening to all comers, is a delight to the eye, and to the mind. * * * * * the library of the boston athenaeum originated, in the year , with a society of gentlemen of literary tastes, who aimed at creating a reading-room for the best foreign and american periodicals, together with a library of books. to this a gallery of art was subsequently added. the undertaking proved at once successful, leaving us to wonder why cultivated boston, though abounding in special and parish libraries, should so long have done without a good general library; new york having anticipated her by fifty-two years, and philadelphia by three-quarters of a century. the athenaeum library is peculiarly rich in files of american newspapers, both old and new, and its collection of early pamphlets is one of the largest in the country. in literature and science it embraces a heavy proportion of the best books, its total number of volumes being reckoned at , . its collection of books, pamphlets, and newspapers relating to the recent civil war is among the completest known. the price of a share in the athenaeum is three hundred dollars, a large sum when compared with that of other proprietary libraries; but it involves much more valuable property-rights than any other. the annual assessment is five dollars to shareholders, who alone possess the right to draw books. the proprietors have also the power to grant free admission to others, and the library and reading-room are thus thrown open for reference to a wide range of readers. the history of the astor library, opened in , has been made too familiar by repeated publication to need repetition here. the generous founder gave two per cent. out of his fortune of $ , , to create a free public library for the city which had given him all his wealth. the gift was a splendid one, greater than had ever before been given in money to found a library. moreover, the $ , of mr. astor, half a century ago, appeared to be, and perhaps was, a larger sum relatively than four millions in new york of to-day. yet it remains true that the bequest was but one-fiftieth part of the fortune of the donor, and that the growth and even the proper accommodation of the library must have stopped, but for the spontaneous supplementary gifts of the principal inheritors of his vast wealth. the growth of the astor library has been very slow, the annual income from what was left of mr. astor's $ , bequest, after defraying the cost of the library building, and the $ , expended for books at its foundation in , having been so small as to necessitate a pinching economy, both in salaries of the library staff, and in the annual purchase of books. it was an example of a generous act performed in a niggardly way. but after the lapse of half a century, enlightened public policy, building upon the astor foundation, and on the lenox and tilden bequests for founding public libraries in new york city, is about to equip that long neglected city with a library worthy of the name. there has already been gathered from these three united benefactions, a collection of no less than , volumes, making the new york public library take rank as the fourth, numerically, in the united states. while no library in america has yet reached one million volumes, there are five libraries in europe, which have passed the million mark. some of these, it is true, are repositories of ancient and mediaeval literature, chiefly, with a considerable representation of the books of the last century, and but few accessions from the more modern press. such, for the most part, are the numerous libraries of italy, while others, like the library of the british museum, in london, and the national library, at paris, are about equally rich in ancient and modern literature. the one great advantage which european libraries possess over american consists in the stores of ancient literature which the accumulations of the past have given them. this advantage, so far as manuscripts and early printed books are concerned, can never be overcome. with one or two hundred thousand volumes as a basis, what but utter neglect can prevent a library from becoming a great and useful institution? the most moderate share of discrimination, applied to the selection of current literature, will keep up the character of the collection as a progressive one. but with nothing at all as a basis, as most of our large american libraries have started, it will take generations for us to overtake some of the vast collections of europe--even numerically. in the "american almanac" for was published the earliest statistical account of american libraries which i have found. it is confined to a statement of the numerical contents of twenty public and university libraries, being all the american libraries which then (sixty years since) contained over , volumes each. the largest library in the united states at that date was that of the philadelphia library company, which embraced , volumes. the first organized effort to collect the full statistics of libraries in the united states was made in , by professor c. c. jewett, then librarian of the smithsonian institution, and the results were published in , under the auspices of that institution, in a volume of pages. it contains interesting notices of numerous libraries, only forty of which, however, contained as many as , volumes each. in , mr. w. j. rhees, of the smithsonian institution, published "a manual of public libraries, institutions, and societies in the united states," a large volume of pages, filled with statistical information in great detail, and recording the number of volumes in libraries. this work was an expansion of that of professor jewett. the next publication of the statistics of american libraries, of an official character, was published in "the national almanac," philadelphia, for the year , pp. - , and was prepared by the present writer. it gave the statistics of libraries, each numbering , volumes or upwards, exhibiting a gratifying progress in all the larger collections, and commemorating the more advanced and vigorous of the new libraries which had sprung into life. the work of collecting and publishing the statistics of american libraries has for years past been admirably performed by the united states bureau of education. begun in , that institution has issued four tabular statements of all libraries responding to its circulars of inquiry, and having (as last reported in ) one thousand volumes or upwards. besides these invaluable reports, costing much careful labor and great expense, the bureau of education published, in , an extensive work wholly devoted to the subject of libraries, bearing the title "special report on public libraries in the united states." this publication (now wholly out of print) consisted of pages, replete with information upon the history, management, and condition of american libraries, under the editorship of s. r. warren and s. n. clark, of the bureau of education. it embraced many original contributions upon topics connected with library science, by experienced librarians, _viz._: messrs. w. f. poole, justin winsor, c. a. cutter, j. s. billings, theo. gill, melvil dewey, o. h. robinson, w. i. fletcher, f. b. perkins, h. a. homes, a. r. spofford, and others. i have prepared a table of the numerical contents of the thirty-four largest libraries in this country in , being all those having , volumes each or upwards: library of congress, washington, , boston public library, boston, , harvard university library, cambridge, , new york public library, new york city, , university of chicago library, , new york state library, albany, , yale university library, new haven, , new york mercantile library, new york, , columbia university library, new york, , chicago public library, , cincinnati public library, , cornell university library, ithaca, n. y., , sutro library, san francisco, , newberry library, chicago, , philadelphia library company, , philadelphia mercantile library, , boston athenaeum library, , enoch pratt library, baltimore, , philadelphia mercantile library, , detroit public library, detroit, mich., , university of pennsylvania library, phila., , princeton university library, princeton, n. j., , pennsylvania state library, harrisburg, , peabody institute library, baltimore, , cleveland public library, cleveland, o., , st. louis public library, , mechanics and tradesmen's library, new york, , free public library, worcester, mass., , san francisco public library, , philadelphia free library, , american antiquarian society library, worcester, mass., , california state library, sacramento, , massachusetts state library, boston, , new york society library, new york, , public libraries endowed by private munificence form already a large class, and these are constantly increasing. of the public libraries founded by individual bequest, some of the principal are the public library of new york, the watkinson library, at hartford, the peabody institute libraries, of baltimore, and at danvers and peabody, mass., the newberry library and the john crerar library at chicago, the sutro library, san francisco, the enoch pratt library, baltimore, and the carnegie libraries at pittsburgh and allegheny city, pa. nearly all of them are the growth of the last quarter of a century. the more prominent, in point of well equipped buildings or collections of books, are here named, including all which number ten thousand volumes each, or upwards, among the public libraries associated with the founder's name. new york public library (astor lenox and tilden foundations), , newberry library, chicago, , sutro library, san francisco, , enoch pratt library, baltimore, , peabody institute library, baltimore, , davenport library, bath, n. y., , silas bronson library, waterbury, conn., , pratt institute free library, brooklyn, n. y., , watkinson library, hartford, conn., , sage library, new brunswick, n. y., , case library, cleveland, ohio, , grosvenor library, buffalo, n. y., , forbes library, northampton, mass., , cooper union library, new york, , fisk free public library, new orleans, , peabody institute library, peabody, mass., , reynolds library, rochester, n. y., , carnegie free library, allegheny, pa., , fletcher free library, burlington, vt., , howard memorial library, new orleans, , carnegie library, pittsburgh, pa., , sage public library, west bay city, mich., , hoyt public library, saginaw, mich., , osterhout free library, wilkesbarre, pa., , seymour library, auburn, n. y., , hackley public library, muskegon, mich., , willard library, evansville, ind., , otis library, norwich, conn., , morrison-reeves library, richmond, ind., , baxter memorial library, rutland, vt., , cornell library association, ithaca, n. y., , thomas crane public library, quincy, mass., , dimmick library, mauch chunk, pa., , gail borden public library, elgin, ill., , peabody institute library, danvers, mass., , tufts library, weymouth, mass., , warder public library, springfield, ohio, , withers public library, bloomington, ill., , cary library, lexington, mass., , fritz public library, chelsea, mass., , turner free library, randolph, mass., , ames free library, north easton, mass., , bigelow free library, clinton, mass., , clarke public library, coldwater, mich., , harris institute library, woonsocket, r. i., , merrick public library, brookfield, mass., , robbins library, arlington, mass., , nevins memorial library, methuen, mass., , sturgis library, barnstable, mass., , birchard library, fremont, ohio, , james prendergast library, jamestown, n. y., , rogers free library, bristol, r. i., , abbott public library, marblehead, mass., , armour institute, chicago, ill., , beebe town library, wakefield, mass., , carnegie free library, braddock, pa., , goodnow library, south sudbury, mass., , millicent library, fairhaven, mass., , thayer public library, south braintree, mass., , dyer library, saco, maine, , cossit library, memphis, tenn., , gloucester (mass.) sawyer free library, , ferguson library, stamford, conn., , parlin memorial library, everett, mass., , jennie d. haynes library, alton, ill., , hornell free library, hornellsville, n. y., , besides the preceding list, purposely confined to free libraries chiefly founded by individuals, which have reached the ten thousand volume mark, there are a multitude of others, too numerous to be named, having a less number of volumes. in fact, the public spirit which gives freely of private wealth to enlarge the intelligence of the community may be said to grow by emulation. many men who have made fortunes have endowed their native places with libraries. it is yearly becoming more and more widely recognized that a man can build no monument to himself so honorable or so lasting as a free public library. its influence is well nigh universal, and its benefits are perennial. * * * * * we now come to consider the city or town libraries, created or maintained by voluntary taxation. these, like the class of libraries founded by private munificence, are purely a modern growth. while the earliest movement in this direction in great britain dates back only to , new hampshire has the honor of adopting the first free public library law, in america, in the year . massachusetts followed in , and the example was emulated by other states at various intervals, until there now remain but fifteen out of our forty-five states which have no public library law. the general provisions of these laws authorize any town or city to collect taxes by vote of the citizens for maintaining a public library, to be managed by trustees elected or appointed for the purpose. but a more far-reaching provision for supplying the people with public libraries was adopted by new hampshire (again the pioneer state), in . this was nothing less than the passage of a state law making it compulsory on every town in new hampshire to assess annually the sum of thirty dollars for every dollar of public taxes apportioned to such town, the amount to be appropriated to establish and maintain a free public library. library trustees are to be elected, and in towns where no public library exists, the money is to be held by them, and to accumulate until the town is ready to establish a library. this new hampshire statute, making obligatory the supply of public information through books and periodicals in free libraries in every town, may fairly be termed the high-water mark of modern means for the diffusion of knowledge. this system of creating libraries proceeds upon the principle that intellectual enlightenment is as much a concern of the local government as sanitary regulations or public morality. society has an interest that is common to all classes in the means that are provided for the education of the people. among these means free town or city libraries are one of the most potent and useful. new hampshire and massachusetts, in nearly all of their towns and cities, have recognized the principle that public books are just as important to the general welfare as public lamps. what are everywhere needed are libraries open to the people as a matter of right, and not as a matter of favor. the largest library in the country, save one (that at washington), owes its origin and success to this principle, combined with some private munificence. the boston public library is unquestionably one of the most widely useful collections of books open to the public in this country. of all the greater collections, it is the only one which lends out books free of charge to all citizens. instituted in , its career has been one of rapid progress and ever widening usefulness. i shall not dwell upon it at length, as the facts regarding it have been more widely published than those relating to any other library. under the permissive library laws of thirty states, there had been formed up to , when the last comprehensive statistics were gathered, about , free public libraries, supported by taxation, in the united states. a still more widely successful means of securing a library foundation that shall be permanent is found in uniting private benefactions with public money to found or to maintain a library. many public-spirited citizens, fortunately endowed with large means, have offered to erect library buildings in certain places, on condition that the local authorities would provide the books, and the means of maintaining a free library. such generous offers, whether coupled with the condition of perpetuating the donor's name with that of the library, or leaving the gift unhampered, so that the library may bear the name of the town or city of its location, have generally been accepted by municipal bodies, or by popular vote. this secures, in most cases, a good working library of choice reading, as well as its steady annual growth and management, free of the heavy expense of building, of which the tax-payers are relieved. the many munificent gifts of library buildings by mr. andrew carnegie, to american towns and cities, and to some in his native scotland, are worthy of special note. and the reader will see from the long list heretofore given of the more considerable public libraries to be credited wholly or in part to private munificence, that american men of wealth have not been wanting as public benefactors. in some cases, whole libraries have been given to a town or village where a public library already existed, or liberal gifts or bequests of money, to be expended in the enrichment of such libraries, have been bestowed. very interesting lists of benefactions for the benefit of libraries may be found in the volumes of the library journal, new york. it is with regret that candor requires me to add, that several proffers of fine library buildings to certain places, coupled with the condition that the municipal authorities would establish and maintain a free library, have remained without acceptance, thus forfeiting a liberal endowment. where public education has been so neglected as to render possible such a niggardly, penny-wise and pound-foolish policy, there is manifestly signal need of every means of enlightenment. * * * * * we now come to the various state libraries founded at the public charge, and designed primarily for the use of the respective legislatures of the states. the earliest of these is the new hampshire state library, established in , and the largest is the new york state library, at albany, founded in , now embracing , volumes, and distinguished alike by the value of its stores and the liberality of its management. the reason for being of a state library is obviously and primarily to furnish the legislative body and state courts with such ample books of reference in jurisprudence, history, science, etc., as will aid them in the intelligent discharge of their duties as law-makers and judges of the law. the library thus existing at each state capital may well be opened to the public for reading and reference, thus greatly enlarging its usefulness. every state in the union has now at least a legislative library, although the most of them consist chiefly of laws and legislative documents, with a few works of reference superadded; and their direct usefulness to the public is therefore very circumscribed. the new york state library is a model of what a great public library should be in the capital of a state. in it are gathered a great proportion of the best books in each department of literature and science, while indefatigable efforts have been made to enrich it in whatever relates to american history and polity. its reading-room is freely opened to the public during many hours daily. but a state library should never be made a library of circulation, since its utility as a reference library, having its books always in for those who seek them, would thereby be destroyed. even under the existing system, with the privilege of drawing books out confined to the legislature, some of the state libraries have been depleted and despoiled of many of their most valuable books, through loaning them freely on the orders of members. the sense of responsibility is far less in the case of borrowed books which are government property, than in other cases. the only safe rule for keeping a government library from being scattered, is strict refusal of orders for loaning to any one not legally entitled to draw books, and short terms of withdrawal to legislators, with enforcement of a rule of replacement, at their expense, as to all books not returned at the end of each session. * * * * * there is one class of libraries not yet touched upon, namely, school district libraries. these originated for the first time in a legally organized system, through an act of the new york state legislature in , authorizing the voters in each school district to levy a tax of twenty dollars with which to start a library, and ten dollars a year for adding to the same. these were not to be for the schools alone, but for all the people living in the district where the school was located. this was supplemented in by a state appropriation of $ , a year, from new york's share of the surplus revenue fund distributed by congress to the states in , and the income of which was devoted by new york to enlarging the school district libraries. after spending nearly two millions of dollars on these libraries in forty years, the system was found to have been so far a failure that the volumes in the libraries had decreased from , , to , volumes. this extraordinary and deplorable result was attributed to several distinct causes. st. no proper responsibility as to the use and return of books was enforced. d. the insignificance of the sum raised by taxation in each district prevented any considerable supply of books from being acquired. d. the funds were largely devoted to buying the same books in each school district, instead of being expended in building up a large and varied collection. thus the system produced innumerable petty libraries of duplicates, enriching publishers and booksellers, while impoverishing the community. the school district library system, in short, while promising much in theory, in the way of public intelligence, broke down completely in practice. the people quickly lost interest in libraries which gave them so little variety in books, either of instruction or of recreation. although widely introduced in other states besides new york, from to , it proved an admitted failure in all. much public money, raised by taxation of the people, was squandered upon sets of books, selected by state authority, and often of inferior interest and utility. finally, it was recognized that school district libraries were an evanescent dream, and that town libraries must take their place. this instructive chapter in library history shows an experience by which much was learned, though the lesson was a costly one. the historical libraries of the country are numerous, and some of the larger ones are rich in printed americana, and in historical manuscripts. the oldest is that of the massachusetts historical society, founded in , and among the most extensive are those of the new york historical society, american antiquarian society, the historical society of pennsylvania, the new england historic-genealogical society, and the wisconsin state historical society. there are no less than historical societies in the u. s., some forty of which are state associations. the mercantile libraries are properly a branch of the proprietary, though depending mostly upon annual subscriptions. the earliest of these was the boston mercantile library, founded in , and followed closely by the new york mercantile the same year, the philadelphia in , and the cincinnati mercantile in . next we have the professional libraries, law, medical, scientific, and, in several cities, theological. these supply a want of each of these professions seldom met by the public collections, and are proportionately valuable. * * * * * the most recent plan for the wide diffusion of popular books is the travelling library. this originated in new york in , when the legislature empowered the regents of the state university (a body of trustees having charge of all library interests in that state) to send out selections of books to any community without a library, on request of resident taxpayers. the results were most beneficial, the sole expense being five dollars for each library. travelling libraries, (mostly of fifty volumes each) have been set on foot in massachusetts, michigan, iowa, wisconsin, pennsylvania, and other states, and, as the system appears capable of indefinite expansion, great results are anticipated in the direction of the public intelligence. it is pointed out that while the state, by its free school system, trains all the people to read, it should not leave the quality of their reading to chance or to utter neglect, when a few cents _per capita_ annually would help them to an education of inestimable value in after life. some objections, on the other hand, have been urged to the system, as introducing features of paternalism into state government, and taking out of the hands of individual generosity and local effort and enterprise what belongs properly to such agencies. the vexed question of the proper function and limitations of state control in the domain of education cannot here be entered upon. in the volume last published of statistics of american libraries, that of , great progress was shown in the five years since . the record of libraries reported in embraced , collections, being all which contained over , volumes each. the increase in volumes in the five years was a little over seven millions, the aggregate of the , libraries being , , volumes. this increase was over per cent. in only five years. if the good work so splendidly begun, in new england, new york, pennsylvania, and some of the western states, in establishing libraries through public taxation and private munificence, can only be extended in the southern and middle states, the century now about to dawn will witness an advance quite as remarkable as we have seen in the latter years of the century about to close. footnotes: [ ] ms. records of the virginia company, in the library of congress. chapter . library buildings and furnishings. proceeding now to the subject of library buildings, reading-rooms, and furnishings, it must be remarked at the outset that very few rules can be laid down which are of universal application. the architectural plans, exterior and interior, of such great institutions as the library of congress, or the boston public library, with their costly marbles, splendid mural decorations, and electric book-serving machinery, afford no model for the library building in the country village. where the government of a nation or a wealthy city has millions to devote for providing a magnificent book-palace for its library, the smaller cities or towns have only a few thousands. so much the more important is it, that a thoroughly well-considered plan for building should be marked out before beginning to build, that no dollars should be wasted, or costly alterations required, in order to fit the interior for all the uses of a library. the need of this caution will be abundantly evident, in the light of the unfit and inconvenient constructions seen in so many public libraries, all over the country. so general has been the want of carefully planned and well-executed structures for books, that it may fairly be said that mistakes have been the rule, and fit adaptation the exception. for twenty years past, at every meeting of the american library association, the reports upon library buildings have deplored the waste of money in well-meant edifices designed to accommodate the library service, but successful only in obstructing it. even in so recent a construction as the boston public library building, so many defects and inconveniences were found after it was supposed to have been finished, that rooms had to be torn out and re-constructed on three floors, while the pneumatic tube system had been found so noisy as to be a public nuisance, and had to be replaced by a later improved construction. one leading cause for the mistakes which are so patent in our library buildings is that they are not planned by librarians but mainly by architects. the library authorities commonly take it for granted that the able architect is master of his profession, and entrust him with the whole design, leaving out of account the librarian, as a mere subordinate, entitled only to secondary consideration. the result is a plan which exhibits, in its prominent features, the architect's skill in effective pilasters, pillars, architraves, cornices, and balustrades, while the library apartments which these features ornament are planned, not for convenient and rapid book-service, but mainly for show. it is the interest of architects to magnify their profession: and as none of them has ever been, or ever will be a librarian, they cannot be expected to carry into effect unaided, what they have never learned; namely, the interior arrangements which will best meet the utilities of the library service. here is where the librarian's practical experience, or his observation of the successes or failures in the reading-room and delivery service of other libraries, should imperatively be called in. let him demonstrate to the governing board that he knows what is needed for prompt and economical administration, and they will heed his judgment, if they are reasonable men. while it belongs to the architect to plan, according to his own ideas, the outside of the building, the inside should be planned by the architect in direct concert with the librarian, in all save merely ornamental or finishing work. we do not erect a building and then determine whether it is to be a school house or a church: it is planned from the start with strict reference to the utilities involved; and so should it always be with a library. in treating this subject, i shall not occupy space in outlining the proper scheme of building and interior arrangement for a great library, with its many distinct departments, for such institutions are the exceptions, while most libraries come within the rule of very moderate size, and comparatively inexpensive equipment. the first requisite for a public library, then, is a good location. it is important that this should be central, but it is equally important that the building should be isolated--that is, with proper open space on all sides, and not located in a block with other buildings. many libraries have been destroyed or seriously damaged by fire originating in neighboring buildings, or in other apartments in the same building; while fires in separate library buildings have been extremely rare. it would be a wise provision to secure a library lot sufficiently large in area to admit of further additions to the building, both in the rear and at the side; and with slight addition to the cost, the walls and their supports may be so planned as to admit of this. committees are seldom willing to incur the expense of an edifice large enough to provide for very prolonged growth of their collection; and the result is that the country is full of overcrowded libraries, without money to build, and prevented from expanding on the spot because no foresight was exercised in the original construction or land purchase, to provide for ready increase of space by widening out, and removing an outer wall so as to connect the old building with the new addition. if a library has , volumes, it would be very short-sighted policy to plan an edifice to contain less than , , which it is likely to reach in from ten to forty years. the next requisite to a central and sufficient site is that the location must be dry and airy. any low site, especially in river towns, will be damp, and among the enemies of books, moisture holds a foremost place. next, the site should afford light on all sides, and if necessary to place it near any thoroughfare, it should be set back so as to afford ample light and ventilation in front. it need hardly be said that every library building should be fire-proof, after the many costly lessons we have had of the burning of public libraries at home and abroad. the material for the outside walls may be brick or stone, according to taste or relative cost. brick is good enough, and if of the best quality, and treated with stone trimmings, is capable of sufficiently ornate effects, and is quite as durable as any granite or marble. no temptation of cheapness should ever be allowed to introduce wood in any part of the construction: walls, floors, and roof should be only of brick, stone, iron, or slate. a wooden roof is nothing but a tinder-box that invites the flames. in general, two stories is a sufficient height for library buildings, except in those of the largest class, and the upper floors may be amply lighted by sky-lights. the side-lights can hardly be too numerous: yet i have seen library buildings running back from a street fifty to seventy-five feet, without a single window in either of the side walls. the result was to throw all the books on shelves into a gloomy shade for many hours of each day. the interior construction should be so managed as to effect the finding and delivery of books to readers with the greatest possible economy of time and space. no shelves should be placed higher than can be reached by hand without mounting upon any steps or ladders; _i. e._, seven to seven and a half feet. the system of shelving should all be constructed of iron or steel, instead of surrounding the books on three sides with combustible wood, as is done in most libraries. shelves of oxidized metal will be found smooth enough to prevent any abrasion of bindings. shelves should be easily adjustable to any height, to accommodate the various sizes of books. in calculating shelf capacity, one and a half inches thickness a volume is a fair average, so that each hundred volumes would require about thirteen feet of linear shelf measurement. the space between uprights, that is, the length of each shelf, should not exceed two and a half feet. all spaces between shelves should be ½ or inches high, to accommodate large octavos indiscriminately with smaller sizes; and a base shelf for quartos and folios, at a proper height from the floor, will restrict the number of shelves to six in each tier. in the arrangement of the cases or book-stacks, the most economical method is to place book-cases of double face, not less than three feet apart, approached by aisles on either side, so as to afford free passage for two persons meeting or passing one another. the cases may be about ten feet each in length. there should be electric lights between all cases, to be turned on only when books are sought. the cases should be set at right angles to the wall, two or three feet from it, with the light from abundant windows coming in between them. the width of shelves may be from to inches in these double cases, thus giving about eight to nine inches depth to each side. no partition is required between the two sides. it should be stated that the light obtained from windows, when thrown more than twenty feet, among cases of books on shelves, becomes too feeble for effective use in finding books. this fact should be considered in advance, while plans of construction, lighting, and interior arrangement are being made. all experience has shown that too much light cannot be had in any public library. railings and stair-cases for the second or upper floors should be of perforated iron. the reading-room should be distinct from the book delivery or charging-room, to secure quiet for readers at all hours, avoiding the pressure, hurry and noise of conversation inevitable in a lending library or department. in the reading-room should be shelved a liberal supply of books of reference, and bibliographies, open without tickets to the readers. next the central desk there should be shelves for the deposit of books reserved day by day for the use of readers. the library chairs, of whatever pattern may be preferred, should always combine the two requisites of strength and lightness. the floor should be covered with linoleum, or some similar floor covering, to deaden sound. woolen carpets, those perennial breeders of dust, are an abomination. in a library reading-room of any considerable size, each reader should be provided with table or desk room, not flat but sloping at a moderate angle, and allowing about three feet of space for each reader. these appliances for study need not be single pieces of furniture, but made in sections to accommodate from three to six readers at each. about thirty inches from the floor is a proper height. for large dictionaries, atlases, or other bulky volumes, the adjustable revolving case, mounted on a pedestal, should be used. for moving any large number of volumes about the library, book-trucks or barrows, with noiseless rubber wheels, are required. every library will need one or more catalogue cases to hold the alphabetical card catalogue. these are made with a maximum of skill by the library bureau, boston. the location of the issue-counter or desk is of cardinal importance. it should be located near the centre of the system of book-cases, or near the entrance to the stack, so as to minimize the time consumed in collecting the books wanted. it should also have a full supply of light, and this may be secured by a location directly in front of a large side window. readers are impatient of delay, and the farther the books are from the issue-counter the longer they will have to wait for them. among modern designs for libraries, that of dr. w. f. poole, adapted for the newberry library, chicago, is notable for dividing the library into many departments or separate rooms, the book shelves occupying one half the height of each, or ½ feet out of , the remaining space being occupied by windows. this construction, of course, does not furnish as compact storage for books as the stack system. it is claimed to possess the advantage of extraordinarily good light, and of aiding the researches of readers. but it has the disadvantage of requiring readers to visit widely separated rooms to pursue studies involving several subjects, and of mounting in elevators to reach some departments. a system which brings the books to the reader, instead of the readers travelling after the books, would appear to be more practically useful to the public, with whom time is of cardinal importance. in all libraries, there should be a receiving or packing room, where boxes and parcels of books are opened and books mended, collated, and prepared for the shelves. this room may well be in a dry and well lighted basement. two small cloak-rooms for wraps will be needed, one for each sex. two toilet rooms or lavatories should be provided. a room for the library directors or trustees, and one for the librarian, are essential in libraries of much extent. a janitor's room or sleeping quarters sometimes needs to be provided. a storage room for blanks, stationery, catalogues, etc., will be necessary in libraries of much extent. a periodical room is sometimes provided, distinct from the reading-room or the delivery department. in this case, if several hundred periodicals are taken, an attendant should be always present to serve them to readers, from the shelves or cases where they should be kept in alphabetical order. without this, and a ticket system to keep track of what are in use, no one can readily find what is needed, nor ascertain whether it is in a reader's hands when sought for. system and the alphabet alone will solve all difficulties. as to the space required for readers in a periodical room, it may be assumed that about five hundred square feet will accommodate twenty-five readers, and the same proportion for a larger number at one time. a room twenty-five by forty would seat fifty readers, while one twenty-five by twenty would accommodate twenty-five readers, with proper space for tables, &c. the files for newspapers are referred to in another chapter on periodicals. in a library building, the heating and ventilation are of prime importance. upon their proper regulation largely depends the health and consequently the efficiency of all employed, as well as the comfort of the reading public. there is no space to enter upon specific descriptions, for which the many conflicting systems, with experience of their practical working, should be examined. suffice it to say in general, that a temperature not far below nor above degrees fahrenheit should be aimed at; that the furnace, with its attendant nuisances of noise, dust, and odors, should be outside the library building--not under it; and that electric lighting alone should be used, gas being highly injurious to the welfare of books. in calculating the space required for books shelved as has been heretofore suggested, it may be approximately stated that every one thousand volumes will require at least eighty to one hundred square feet of floor measurement. thus, a library of , volumes would occupy an area of nearly one thousand square feet. but it is necessary to provide also for the continual growth of the collection. to do this, experience shows that in any flourishing public library, space should be reserved for three or four times the number of volumes in actual possession. if rooms are hired for the books, because of inability to build, the library should be so arranged as to leave each alternate shelf vacant for additions, or, in the more rapidly growing divisions, a still greater space. this will permit accessions to be shelved with their related books, without the trouble of frequently moving and re-arranging large divisions of the library. this latter is a very laborious process, and should be resorted to only under compulsion. the preventive remedy, of making sure of space in advance, by leaving a sufficiency of unoccupied shelves in every division of the library, is the true one. in some libraries, a separate reading-room for ladies is provided. mr. w. f. poole records that in cincinnati such a room was opened at the instance of the library directors. the result was that the ladies made it a kind of social rendezvous, where they talked over society matters, and exhibited the bargains made in their shopping excursions. ladies who came to study preferred the general reading room, where they found every comfort among well conducted gentlemen, and the "ladies' reading-room" was abandoned, as not fulfilling its object. the same experiment in the chicago public library had the same result. some libraries in the larger towns provide a special reading-room for children; and this accomplishes a two-fold object, namely, to keep the public reading-room free from flocks of little people in pursuit of books under difficulties, and to furnish the boys and girls with accommodations of their own. it may be suggested as an objection, that the dividing line as to age is difficult to be drawn: but let each applicant be questioned, and if falling below twelve, or fifteen, or whatever the age limit may be, directed to the juvenile reading-room, and there need be no trouble. of course there will be some quite young readers who are gifted with intelligence beyond their years, and who may dislike to be reckoned as children; but library rules are not made to suit exceptions, but for the average; and as no book need be refused to any applicant in the juvenile department, no just cause of complaint can arise. in some libraries, and those usually of the larger size, an art room is provided, where students of works on painting, sculpture, and the decorative arts can go, and have about them whatever treasures the library may contain in that attractive field. the advantages of this provision are, first, to save the necessity of handling and carrying so many heavy volumes of galleries of art and illustrated books to the general reading-room, and back again, and secondly, to enable those in charge of the art department to exercise more strict supervision in enforcing careful and cleanly treatment of the finest books in the library, than can be maintained in the miscellaneous crowd of readers in the main reading-room. the objections to it concern the general want of room to set apart for this purpose, and the desirability of concentrating the use of books in one main hall or reading-room. circumstances and experience should determine the question for each library. some public libraries, and especially those constructed in recent years, are provided with a lecture-hall, or a large room for public meetings, concerts, or occasionally, even an opera-house, in the same building with the library. there are some excellent arguments in favor of this; and especially where a public benefactor donates to a city a building which combines both uses. the building given by mr. andrew carnegie to the public library of washington will be provided with a small hall suited to meetings, &c. but in all cases, such a public hall should be so isolated from the library reading-room as not to annoy readers, to whom quiet is essential. this end can be effected by having the intervening walls and floors so constructed as completely to deaden sound. a wholly distinct entrance should also be provided, not communicating with the doors and passages leading to the library. comparisons are sometimes made as to the relative cost of library buildings to the number of volumes they are designed to accommodate; but such estimates are misleading. the cost of an edifice in which architectural beauty and interior decoration concur to make it a permanent ornament to a city or town, need not be charged up at so much per volume. buildings for libraries have cost all the way from twenty-five cents up to $ . for each volume stored. the library of congress, which cost six million dollars, and will ultimately accommodate , , volumes, cost about $ . per volume. but it contains besides books, some half a million musical compositions, works of graphic art, maps and charts, etc. the comparative cost of some library buildings erected in recent years, with ultimate capacity of each, may be of interest. kansas city public library, + , , vols., $ , . newark, n. j. free library, + , , vols., $ , . forbes library, northampton, mass. (granite), + , , vols., $ , . fall river, ms. library, + , , vols., $ , . peoria, ill. public library (brick), + , $ , . smiley memorial library, redlands, cal. (brick), + , $ , . reuben hoar library, littleton, mass. (brick), + , , vols., $ , . rogers memorial library, southworth, n. y. + , , vols., $ , . belfast (me.) free library (granite), + , $ , . gail-borden public library, elgin, ill. (brick), + , $ , . warwick, mass. public library (wood), + , , vols., $ , . the largely increased number of public library buildings erected in recent years is a most cheering sign of the times. since , eleven extensive new library buildings have been opened: namely, the library of congress, the boston public library, the pratt institute library, brooklyn, the columbia university library, new york, the princeton, n. j. university library, the hart memorial library, of troy, n. y., the carnegie library, pittsburgh, the chicago public library, the peoria, ill. public library, the kansas city, mo. public library, and the omaha, neb. public library. and there are provided for eight more public library buildings, costing more than $ , each; namely, the providence, r. i. public library, the lynn, mass. public library, the fall river, mass. public library, the newark, n. j. free public library, the milwaukee, wis. public library and museum, the wisconsin state historical society library, madison, the new york public library, and the jersey city public library. to these will be added within the year , as is confidently expected, the washington city public library, the gift of andrew carnegie, to cost $ , . no philanthropist can ever find a nobler object for his fortune, or a more enduring monument to his memory, than the founding of a free public library. the year has witnessed a new gift by mr. carnegie of a one hundred thousand dollar library to atlanta, the capital of georgia, on condition that the city will provide a site, and $ , a year for the maintenance of the library. cities in the east are emulating one another in providing public library buildings of greater or less cost. if the town library cannot have magnificence, it need not have meanness. a competition among architects selected to submit plans is becoming the favorite method of preparing to build. five of the more extensive libraries have secured competitive plans of late from which to select--namely, the new york public library, the jersey city public library, the newark free public library, the lynn public library, and the phoebe hearst building for the university of california, which is to be planned for a library of , volumes. it is gratifying to add that in several recent provisions made for erecting large and important structures, the librarian was made a member of the building committee--_i. e._, in the new york public library, the newark free public library, and the lynn public library. chapter . library managers or trustees. we now come to consider the management of libraries as entrusted to boards of directors, trustees or library managers. these relations have a most intimate bearing upon the foundation, the progress and the consequent success of any library. where a liberal intelligence and a hearty coöperation are found in those constituting the library board, the affairs of the institution will be managed with the best results. where a narrow-minded and dictatorial spirit is manifested, even by a portion of those supervising a public library, it will require a large endowment both of patience and of tact in the librarian, to accomplish those aims which involve the highest usefulness. boards of library trustees vary in number, usually from three to nine or more. a board of three or five is found in practice more active and efficient than a larger number. the zeal and responsibility felt is apt to diminish in direct proportion to the increased numbers of the board. an odd number is preferable, to avoid an equal division of opinion upon any question to be determined. in town or city libraries, the mode of selection of library trustees varies much. sometimes the mayor appoints the library board, sometimes they are chosen by the city council, and sometimes elected by the people, at the annual selection of school or municipal officers. the term of service (most usually three years) should be so arranged that retirement of any members should always leave two at least who have had experience on the board. library trustees serve without salary, the high honor of so serving the public counting for much. the librarian is often made secretary of the trustees, and then he keeps the record of their transactions. he should never be made treasurer of the library funds, which would involve labor and responsibility incompatible with the manifold duties of the superintendent of a library. in case of a library supported by municipal taxation, the town treasurer may well serve as library treasurer also, or the trustees can choose one from their own board. the librarian, however, should be empowered to collect book fines or other dues, to be deposited with the treasurer at regular intervals, and he should have a small fund at disposal for such petty library expenses as constantly arise. all bills for books and other purchases, and all salaries of persons employed in the library should be paid by the treasurer. the meetings of the trustees should be attended by the librarian, who must always be ready to supply all information as to the workings of the library, the needs for books, etc. frequently the trustees divide up the business before them, appointing sub-committees on book selections, on library finances, on administration, furnishings, &c., with a view to prompt action. if a library receives endowments, money gifts or legacies, they are held and administered by the trustees as a body corporate, the same as the funds annually appropriated for library maintenance and increase. their annual report to the council, or municipal authorities, should exhibit the amount of money received from all sources in detail, and the amount expended for all purposes, in detail; also, the number of books purchased in the year, the aggregate of volumes in the library, the number of readers, and other facts of general interest. all accounts against the library are first audited by the proper sub-committee, and payment ordered by the full board, by order on the treasurer. the accounts for all these expenditures should be kept by the treasurer, who should inform the librarian periodically as to balances. the selection of books for a public library is a delicate and responsible duty, involving wider literary and scientific knowledge than falls to the lot of most trustees of libraries. there are sometimes specially qualified professional men or widely read scholars on such boards, whose services in recruiting the library are of great value. more frequently there are one or more men with hobbies, who would spend the library funds much too freely upon a class of books of no general interest. thus, one trustee who plays golf may urge the purchase of all the various books upon that game, when one or at most two of the best should supply all needful demands. another may want to add to the library about all the published books on the horse; another, who is a physician, may recommend adding a lot of medical books to the collection, utterly useless to the general reader. beware of the man who has a hobby, either as librarian or as library trustee; he will aim to expend too much money on books which suit his own taste, but which have little general utility. two mischiefs result from such a course: the library gets books which very few people read, and its funds are diverted from buying many books that may be of prime importance. trustees, although usually, (at least the majority of them) persons of culture and intelligence, cannot be expected to be bibliographers, nor to be familiar with the great range of new books that continually pour from the press. they have their own business or profession to engage them, and are commonly far too busy to study catalogues, or to follow the journals of the publishing world. so these busy men, charged with the oversight of the library interests, call to their aid an expert, and that expert is the librarian. it is his interest and his business to know far more than they do both of what the library already contains, and what it most needs. it is his to peruse the critical journals and reviews, as well as the literary notices of the select daily press, and to be prepared to recommend what works to purchase. he must always accompany his lists of wants with the prices, or at least the approximate cost of each, and the aggregate amount. if the trustees or book committee think the sum too large to be voted at any one time from the fund at their disposal, the librarian must know what can best be postponed, as well as what is most indispensable for the immediate wants of the library. if they object to any works on the list, he should be prepared to explain the quality and character of those called in question, and why the library, in his judgment, should possess them. if the list is largely cut down, and he considers himself hardly used, he should meet the disappointment with entire good humor, and try again when the members of the committee are in better mood, or funds in better supply. it is very customary for boards of library officers to assume the charge of the administration so far as regards the library staff, and to make appointments, promotions or removals at their own pleasure. in most libraries, however, this power is exercised mainly on the advice or selection of the librarian, his action being confirmed when there is no serious objection. in still other cases, the librarian is left wholly free to choose the assistants. this is perhaps the course most likely to secure efficient service, since his judgment, if he is a person of tried capacity and mature experience, will lead to the selection of the fittest candidates, for the work which he alone thoroughly knows. no library trustee can put himself fully in the place of a librarian, and see for himself the multitude of occasions arising in the daily work of the library, where promptness, tact, and wide knowledge of books will make a success, and the want of any of these qualities a failure. still less can he judge the competency or incompetency of one who is to be employed in the difficult and exact work of cataloguing books. besides, there is always the hazard that trustees, or some of them, may have personal favorites or relatives to prefer, and will use their influence to secure the appointment or promotion of utterly uninstructed persons, in place of such candidates as are known to the librarian to be best qualified. in no case should any person be employed without full examination as to fitness for library work, conducted either by the librarian, or by a committee of which the librarian is a member or chief examiner. a probationary trial should also follow before final appointment. the power of patronage, if unchecked by this safeguard, will result in filling any library with incompetents, to the serious detriment of the service on which its usefulness depends. the librarian cannot keep a training school for inexperts: he has no time for this, and he indispensably needs and should have assistants who are competent to their duties, from their first entrance upon them. as he is held responsible for all results, in the conduct of the library, both by the trustees and by the public, he should have the power, or at least the approximate power, to select the means by which those results are to be attained. in the boston public library, all appointments are made by the trustees upon nomination by the librarian, after an examination somewhat similar to that of the civil service, but by a board of library experts. in the british museum library, the selection and promotion of members of the staff are passed upon by the trustees, having the recommendation of the principal librarian before them. in the library of congress, appointments are made directly by the librarian after a probationary trial, with previous examination as to education, former experience or employments, attainments, and fitness for library service. in smaller libraries, both in this country and abroad, a great diversity of usage prevails. instances are rare in which the librarian has the uncontrolled power of appointment, promotion and removal. the requirement of examinations to test the fitness of candidates is extending, and since the establishment of five or six permanent schools of library science in the united states, with their graduates well equipped for library work, there is no longer any excuse for putting novices in charge of libraries--institutions where wide knowledge and thorough training are more indispensable than in any other profession whatever. in state libraries, no uniformity prevails as to control. in some states, the governor has the appointment of the librarian, while in others, he is an elective officer, the state legislature being the electors. as governors rarely continue in office longer than two or three years, the tenure of a librarian under them is precarious, and a most valuable officer may at any time be superseded by another who would have to learn all that the other knows. the result is rarely favorable to the efficient administration of the library. in a business absolutely demanding the very largest compass of literary and scientific knowledge, frequent rotation in office is clearly out of place. in a public or state library, every added year of experience adds incalculably to the value of a librarian's services, provided he is of active habits, and full of zeal to make his acquired knowledge constantly useful to those who use the library. partizan politics, with their frequent changes, if suffered to displace a tried librarian and staff, will be sure to defeat the highest usefulness of any library. what can a political appointee, a man totally without either library training or library experience, do with the tools of which he has never learned the use? it will take him years to learn, and by the time he has learned, some other political party coming uppermost will probably displace him, to make room for another novice, on the principle that "to the victors belong the spoils" of office. meanwhile, "the hungry sheep look up and are not fed," as milton sings--that is, readers are deprived of expert and intelligent guidance. this bane of political jobbery has not been confined to the libraries of states, but has invaded the management of many city and town libraries also. we have yet to learn of any benefit resulting to those who use the libraries. in the case of a few of the state libraries, trustees or library commissioners or boards of control have been provided by law, but in others, a joint library committee, composed of members of both houses of the legislature, has charge of the library interests. this is also the case in the library of congress at washington, where three senators and three representatives constitute the joint committee of both houses of congress on the library. the membership of this committee, as of all others in congress, is subject to change biennially. it has been proposed to secure a more permanent and careful supervision of this national library by adding to the joint committee of congress three or more trustees of eminent qualifications, elected by congress, as the regents of the smithsonian institution now are, for a longer term of years. the trustees of the british museum are appointed by the crown, their tenure of office being for life. in several states the librarian is appointed by the supreme court, as the state libraries are composed more largely of law books, than of miscellaneous literature, and special knowledge of case law, and the principles of jurisprudence, is demanded of the librarian. where the trustees of a public library are elected by the people, they have in their own hands the power of choosing men who are far above party considerations, and they should exercise it. in no department of life is the maxim--"the tools to the hands that can use them," more important than in the case of librarians and boards of managers of libraries. the value of skilled labor over the unskilled is everywhere recognized in the business of the world, by more certain employment and larger compensation: and why should it not be so in libraries? chapter . library regulations. no feature in library administration is more important than the regulations under which the service of the library is conducted. upon their propriety and regular enforcement depends very much of the utility of the collection. rules are of two kinds, those which concern the librarian and assistants, and those which concern the public resorting to the library. of the first class are the regulations as to hours, division of labor, leaves or vacations of employees, &c. the larger the library, and consequently the force employed, the more important is a careful adjustment of relative duties, and of the times and seasons to be devoted to them. the assignment of work to the various assistants will naturally depend upon their respective qualifications. those who know latin, and two or more of the modern languages, would probably be employed upon the catalogue. those who are familiar with the range of books published, in literature and science, will be best qualified for the service of the reading-room, which involves the supply of books and information. in direct proportion to the breadth of information possessed by any one, will be his usefulness in promptly supplying the wants of readers. nothing is so satisfactory to students in libraries, or to the casual seekers of information of any kind, as to find their wants immediately supplied. the reader whom an intelligent librarian or assistant answers at once is grateful to the whole establishment; while the reader who is required to wait ten to twenty minutes for what he wants, becomes impatient and sometimes querulous, or leaves the library unsatisfied. one rule of service at the library desk or counter should be that every assistant there employed should deem it his duty to aid immediately any one who is waiting, no matter what other concerns may engage his attention. in other words, the one primary rule of a public library should be that the service of the public is always paramount. all other considerations should be subordinate to that. it is desirable that assistants in every library should learn all departments of library work, cataloguing, supplying books and information, preparing books for the shelves, etc. this will enable each assistant to take the place of another in case of absence, a most important point. it will also help to qualify the more expert for promotion. a second rule for internal administration in any library should be that all books are to be distributed, or replaced upon their shelves, daily. if this is not systematically done, the library will tend to fall into chaos. and even a small number of volumes not in their places will embarrass the attendants seeking them, and often deprive readers of their use--a thing to be always sedulously avoided. in the library of congress, the replacement of books upon the shelves is carried out much more frequently than once daily. as fast as books come in at the central desk by the returns of readers, they are sent back through the book-carriers, to the proper floors, where the outside label-numbers indicate that they belong, and replaced by the attendant there on their proper shelves. these mechanical book-carriers run all day, by electric power, supplied by a dynamo in the basement, and, with their endless chain and attached boxes constantly revolving, they furnish a near approach to perpetual motion. thus i have seen a set of macaulay's england, called for by ticket from the reading-room, arrive in three minutes from the outlying book-repository or iron stack, several hundreds of feet distant on an upper floor, placed on the reader's table, referred to, and returned at once, then placed in the book-carrier by the desk attendant, received back on its proper floor, and distributed to its own shelf by the attendant there, all within half an hour after the reader's application. another rule to be observed by the reading-room attendants is to examine all call-slips, or readers' tickets, remaining uncalled for at the close of each day's business, and see if the books on them are present in the library. this precaution is demanded by the security of the collection, as well as by the good order and arrangement of the library. neglect of it may lead to losses or misplacements, which might be prevented by careful and unremitting observance of this rule. another rule of eminent propriety is that librarians or assistants are not to read newspapers during library hours. when there happen to be no readers waiting to be helped, the time should be constantly occupied with other library work. there is no library large enough to be worthy of the name, that does not have arrears of work incessantly waiting to be done. and while this is the case, no library time should be wasted upon periodicals, which should be perused only outside of library hours. if one person employed in a library reads the newspaper or magazine, the bad example is likely to be followed by others. thus serious inattention to the wants of readers, as well as neglect of library work postponed, will be sure to follow. a fourth rule, resting upon the same reason, should prevent any long sustained gossip or conversation during library hours. that time belongs explicitly to the public or to the work of the library. the rule of silence which is enforced upon the public in the interest of readers should not be broken by the library managers themselves. such brief question and answer as emergency or the needful business of the library requires should be conducted in a low tone, and soon ended. library administration is a business, and must be conducted in a business way. no library can properly be turned into a place of conversation. all differences or disputes between attendants as to the work to be done by each, or methods, or any other question leading to dissension, should be promptly and decisively settled by the librarian, and of course cheerfully submitted to by all. good order and discipline require that there should be only one final authority in any library. controversies are not only unseemly in themselves, but they are time-consuming, and are liable to be overheard by readers, to the prejudice of those who engage in them. another rule to be observed is to examine all books returned, as carefully as a glance through the volume will permit, to detect any missing or started leaves, or injury to bindings. no volume bearing marks of dilapidation of any kind should be permitted to go back to the shelves, or be given to readers, but placed in a bindery reserve for needful repairs. it should hardly be necessary to say that all those connected with a public library should be carefully observant of hours, and be always in their places, unless excused. the discipline of every library should be firm in this respect, and dilatory or tardy assistants brought to regard the rule of prompt and regular service. "no absence without leave" should be mentally posted in the consciousness and the conscience of every one. another rule should limit the time for mid-day refreshment, and so arrange it that the various persons employed go at different hours. as to time employed, half-an-hour for lunch, as allowed in the washington departments, is long enough in any library. furloughs or vacations should be regulated to suit the library service, and not allow several to be absent at the same time. as to length of vacation time, few libraries can afford the very liberal fashion of twelve months wages for eleven months work, as prevalent in the washington departments. the average vacation time of business houses--about two weeks--more nearly corresponds to that allowed in the smaller public libraries. out of libraries reporting in , allowed four weeks or more vacation, three weeks, two weeks, and none. but in cases of actual illness, the rule of liberality should be followed, and no deduction of wages should follow temporary disability. where many library attendants are employed, all should be required to enter on a daily record sheet or book, the hour of beginning work. then the rule of no absence without special leave should be enforced as to all during the day. we now come to such rules of library administration as concern the readers, or the public. the rule of silence, or total abstinence from loud talking, should be laid down and enforced. this is essential for the protection of every reader from annoyance or interruption in his pursuits. the rule should be printed on all readers' tickets, and it is well also to post the word silence, in large letters, in two or more conspicuous places in the reading-room. this will give a continual reminder to all of what is expected, and will usually prevent any loud conversation. while absolute silence is impossible in any public library, the inquiries and answers at the desk can always be made in a low and even tone, which need attract no attention from any readers, if removed only a few feet distant. as there are always persons among readers who will talk, notwithstanding rules, they should be checked by a courteous reminder from the librarian, rather than from any subordinate. this--for the obvious reason that admonition from the highest authority carries the greatest weight. another rule, which should always be printed on the call-slips, or readers' tickets, is the requirement to return books and receive back their tickets always before leaving the library. this duty is very commonly neglected, from the utter carelessness of many readers, who do not realize that signing their ticket for any book holds them responsible for it until it is returned. many are unwilling to spend a moment's time in waiting for a ticket to be returned to them. many will leave their books on tables or seats where they were reading, and go away without reclaiming their receipts. while complete observance of this rule is of course hopeless of attainment in a country where free and easy manners prevail, every librarian should endeavor to secure at least an approximate compliance with a rule adopted alike for the security and good order of the library, and the efficient service of the reader. all readers should be privileged to reserve books from day to day which they have not completed the use of, and instructed always to give notice of such reservation before leaving the library. this saves much time, both to the reader and to the librarian in sending repeatedly for books put away needlessly. in a circulating library, a fixed rule limiting the time for which a book may be kept, is essential. this may be from three days to two weeks, according to the demand for the book, but it should not exceed the latter period. still, a renewal term may be conceded, provided the book is not otherwise called for. a small fine of so much a day for each volume kept out beyond the time prescribed by the rule, will often secure prompt return, and is the usage in most libraries where books are lent out. in the boston public library no renewals are allowed. a rule requiring the replacement or repair of books damaged while in the hands of a reader should be printed and enforced. it may properly be waived where the damage is slight or unavoidable. in public circulating libraries, a rule of registration is required, and in some libraries of reference also; but in the library of congress all readers over sixteen are admitted without any formality or registration whatever. in popular libraries, the need of a registry list of those entitled to borrow books, is obvious, to prevent the issue to improper or unauthorized persons; as, for example, residents of another town, or persons under the prescribed age of admission to library privileges. a printed library card should be issued to each person privileged to draw books; corresponding in number to the page or index-card of the library record. each card should bear the full name and address of the applicant, and be signed with an obligation to obey the rules of the library. on this card all books drawn may be entered, always with month and day date, and credited with date of return, the parallel entries being at the same time made in the library charging record. library cards of registration should be issued for a limited period, say twelve months, in order to bring all persons to a systematic review of their privilege, and should be renewed annually, so long as the holder is entitled to registration. no books should be issued except to those presenting registration cards, together with a call-slip or ticket for the book wanted. another rule should fix a limit to the number of volumes to be drawn by any reader. two volumes out at any one time would be a fair limit. if made more to all readers, there is likely to be sometimes a scarcity of books to be drawn upon; and if a few readers are permitted to draw more than others, the charge of undue favoritism will be justified. another rule should be that any incivility or neglect on the part of any library attendant should be reported to the librarian. in such cases, the attendant should always be heard, before any admonition or censure is bestowed. an almost necessary rule in most libraries is that no book should be taken from the shelves by any person not employed in the library. the exceptions are of course, the books provided expressly for the free and open reference of the readers. another essential rule is that no writing or marks may be made in any library book or periodical; nor is any turning down of leaves permitted. a printed warning is important to the effect that any cutting or defacing of library books or periodicals is a penal offense, and will be prosecuted according to law. the regulations for admission to library privileges are important. in this country the age limitation is more liberal than in europe. the boston public library, for example, is free to all persons over twelve years of age. in the library of congress, the age limit is sixteen years or upward, to entitle one to the privileges of a reader. in the astor library, none are admitted under nineteen, and in the british museum library none below twenty-one years. the hours during which the library is open should be printed as part of the regulations. all the library rules should be printed and furnished to the public. the most essential of them, if carefully expressed in few words, can be grouped in a single small sheet, of mo. size or less, and pasted in the inside cover of every book belonging to the library. better still, (and it will save expense in printing) let the few simple rules, in small but legible type, form a part of the book plate, or library label, which goes on the left-hand inner cover of each volume. thus every reader will have before him, in daily prominence, the regulations which he is to observe, and no excuse can be pleaded of ignorance of the rules. as no law is ever long respected unless it is enforced, so no regulations are likely to be observed unless adhered to in every library. rules are a most essential part of library administration, and it should be a primary object of every librarian or assistant to see that they are observed by all. chapter . library reports and advertising. we now come to consider the annual reports of librarians. these should be made to the trustees or board of library control, by whatever name it may be known, and should be addressed to the chairman, as the organ of the board. in the preparation of such reports, two conditions are equally essential--conciseness and comprehensiveness. every item in the administration, frequentation, and increase of the library should be separately treated, but each should be condensed into the smallest compass consistent with clear statement. very long reports are costly to publish, and moreover, have small chance of being read. in fact, the wide perusal of any report is in direct proportion to its brevity. this being premised, let us see what topics the librarian's report should deal with. . the progress of the library during the year must be viewed as most important. a statistical statement of accessions, giving volumes of books, and number of pamphlets separately, added during the year, should be followed by a statement of the aggregate of volumes and pamphlets in the collection. this is ascertained by actual count of the books upon the shelves, adding the number of volumes charged out, or in the bindery, or in readers' hands at the time of the enumeration. this count is far from a difficult or time-consuming affair, as there is a short-hand method of counting by which one person can easily arrive at the aggregate of a library of , volumes, in a single day of eight to ten hours. this is done by counting by twos or threes the rows of books as they stand on the shelves, passing the finger rapidly along the backs, from left to right and from top to bottom of the shelves. as fast as one hundred volumes are counted, simply write down a figure one; then, at the end of the second hundred, a figure two, and so on, always jotting down one figure the more for each hundred books counted. the last figure in the counter's memorandum will represent the number of hundreds of volumes the library contains. thus, if the last figure is , the library has just , volumes. this rapid, and at the same time accurate method, by which any one of average quickness can easily count two hundred volumes a minute, saves all counting up by tallies of five or ten, and also all slow additions of figures, since one figure at the end multiplied by one hundred, expresses the whole. . any specially noteworthy additions to the library should be briefly specified. . a list of donors of books during the year, with number of volumes given by each, should form part of the report. this may properly come at the end as an appendix. . a brief of the money income of the year, with sources whence derived, and of all expenditures, for books, salaries, contingent expenses, etc., should form a part of the report, unless reported separately by a treasurer of the library funds. . the statistics of a librarian's report, if of a lending library, should give the aggregate number of volumes circulated during the year, also the number of borrowers recorded who have used and who have not used the privilege of borrowing. the number of volumes used by readers in the reference or reading-room department should be given, as well as the aggregate of readers. it is usual in some library reports to classify the books used by readers, as, so many in history, poetry, travels, natural science, etc., but this involves labor and time quite out of proportion to its utility. still, a comparative statement of the aggregate volumes of fiction read or drawn out, as against all other books, may be highly useful as an object lesson, if embodied in the library report. . a statement of the actual condition of the library, as to books, shelving accommodations, furniture, etc., with any needful suggestions for improvement, should be included in the annual report. . a well-considered suggestion of the value of contributions to the library in books or funds to enrich the collection, should not be overlooked. . the librarian should not forget a word of praise for his assistants, in the great and useful work of carrying on the library. this will tend to excite added zeal to excel, when the subordinates feel that their services are appreciated by their head, as well as by the public. the preparation of an annual report affords some test of the librarian's skill and judgment. it should aim at plain and careful statement, and all rhetoric should be dispensed with. divided into proper heads, a condensed statement of facts or suggestions under each should be made, and all repetition avoided. such a library report should never fail to set forth the great benefit to the community which a free use of its treasures implies, while urging the importance of building up the collection, through liberal gifts of books, periodicals, or money, thus enabling it to answer the wants of readers more fully, year by year. it will sometimes be a wise suggestion to be made in a librarian's report, that the library still lacks some specially important work, such as larned's "history for ready reference," or the extensive "dictionary of national biography," or brunet's _manuel du libraire_, or a set of congressional debates from the beginning; and such a suggestion may often bear fruit in leading some public-spirited citizen to supply the want by a timely contribution. of course, the annual report of every public library should be printed, and as pamphlets are seldom read, and tend rapidly to disappear, its publication in the newspapers is vastly more important than in any other form. while a pamphlet report may reach a few people, the newspaper reaches nearly all; and as a means of diffusing information in any community, it stands absolutely without rival. whether the library reports shall be printed in pamphlet form or not is a matter of expediency, to be determined by the managing board. funds are rarely ample enough, in the smaller town libraries, to justify the expense, in view of the small circulation which such reports receive, and it is much better to put the money into printing library catalogues, which every body needs and will use, than into library reports, which comparatively few will make any use of. a judicious compromise may be usefully made, by inducing some newspaper, which would print a liberal share of the report free of charge, as news, for public information, to put the whole in type and strike off a few hundred copies in sheet form or pages, at a moderate charge. this would enable the library officers to distribute a goodly number, and to keep copies of each annual report for reference, without the expense of a pamphlet edition. in some of the larger and more enterprising of city libraries, reports are made quarterly or monthly by the librarian. these of course are much more nearly up to date, and if they publish lists of books added to the library, they are correspondingly useful. frequently they contain special bibliographies of books on certain subjects. among these, the monthly bulletins of the boston public library, harvard university library, new york public library, salem, mass., public library, and the providence public library are specially numerous and important. the relations of a public library to the local press of the city or town where it is situated will now be noticed. it is the interest of the librarian to extend the usefulness of the library by every means; and the most effective means is to make it widely known. in every place are found many who are quite ignorant of the stores of knowledge which lie at their doors in the free library. and among those who do know it and resort to it, are many who need to have their interest and attention aroused by frequent notices as to its progress, recent additions to its stores, etc. the more often the library is brought before the public by the press, the more interest will be taken in it by the community for whose information it exists. it is of the utmost importance that the library conductors should have the active good will of all the newspaper editors in its vicinity. this will be acquired both by aiding them in all researches which the daily or frequent wants of their profession render necessary; and also, by giving them freely and often items of intelligence about the library for publication. enterprising journals are perpetually on the hunt for new and varied matter to fill their columns. they send their reporters to the library to make "a story," as it is called, out of something in it or about it. these reporters are very seldom persons versed in books, or able to write understandingly or attractively about them. left to themselves to construct "a story" out of a half hour's conversation with the librarian, the chances are that an article will be produced which contains nearly as many errors as matters of fact, with the names of authors or the titles of their books mis-spelled or altered, and with matters manufactured out of the reporter's fancy which formed no part of the interview, while what did form important features in it are perhaps omitted. the remedy, or rather the preventive of such inadequate reports of what the librarian would say to the public is to become his own reporter. the papers will willingly take for publication short "library notes," as they may be called, containing information about the library or its books, carefully type-written. this course at once secures accurate and authentic statements, and saves the time of the press reporters for other work. bear in mind always that the main object of such library notices is to attract attention, and encourage people to use the library. thus there should be sought frequent opportunities of advertising the library by this best of all possible means, because it is the one which reaches the largest number. to do it well requires some skill and practice, and to do it often is quite as essential as to do it well. keep the library continually before the public. what are the business houses which are most thronged with customers? they are those that advertise most persistently and attractively. so with the library; it will be more and more resorted to, in proportion as it keeps its name and its riches before the public eye. a certain timeliness in these library notices should be cultivated. the papers are eager to get anything that illustrates what is uppermost in the public mind. if a local fair is in progress or preparing, give them a list of the best books the library has in that field; the history of the philadelphia exposition, the chicago world's fair, the paris expositions, &c. on another day, set forth the books on manufactures, horses, cattle, domestic animals, decorative art, &c. if there is a poultry exhibition, or a dog show, call public attention to the books on poultry or dogs. if an art exhibition, bring forward the titles of books on painting, sculpture, drawing, and the history of art, ancient and modern. if some great man has died, as bismarck or gladstone, give the titles of any biographies or books about him, adding even references to notable magazine articles that have appeared. when the summer vacation is coming around, advertise your best books of travel, of summer resorts, of ocean voyages, of yachting, camping, fishing and shooting, golf and other out-door games, etc. if there is a presidential campaign raging, make known the library's riches in political science, the history of administrations, and of nominating conventions, lives of the presidents, books on elections, etc. if an international dispute or complication is on foot, publish the titles of your books on international law, and those on the history or resources of the country or countries involved; and when a war is in progress, books on military science, campaigns, battles, sieges, and the history of the contending nations will be timely and interesting. whatever you do in this direction, make it short and attractive. organize your material, describe a specially interesting work by a reference to its style, or its illustrations, or its reputation, etc. distribute your library notes impartially; that is, if several papers are published, be careful not to slight any of them. find out the proper days to suit their want of matter, and never send in your notes when the paper is overcrowded. always read a proof-slip of each article; time spent in going to a newspaper office to correct proof is well spent, for misprints always await the unwary who trusts to the accuracy of types. if the library acquires any extensive or notable book, whether old or new, do not fail to make it known through the press. if any citizen gives a number of volumes to the library, let his good deeds have an appreciative notice, that others may go and do likewise. another feature of library advertising is the publication in the press of the titles of new books added to the library. as this is merely catalogue printing, however abbreviated in form the titles may be, it will usually (and very properly) be charged for by the newspapers. but it will pay, in the direction of inducing a much larger use of the library, and as the sole object of the institution is to contribute to public intelligence, it becomes library managers not to spare any expense so conducive to that result. chapter . the formation of libraries. in the widely extended and growing public interest in libraries for the people, and in the ever increasing gatherings of books by private collectors, i may be pardoned for some suggestions pertaining specially to the formation of libraries. i do not refer to the selection of books, which is treated in the first chapter, nor to the housing and care of libraries, but to some important points involved in organizing the foundation, so to speak, of a library. the problem, of course, is a widely different one for the private collector of an individual or family library, and for the organizers of a public one. but in either case, it is important, first of all, to have a clearly defined and well considered plan. without this, costly mistakes are apt to be made, and time, energy and money wasted, all of which might be saved by seeing the end from the beginning, and planning accordingly. let us suppose that a resident in a community which has never enjoyed the benefit of a circulating library conceives the idea of using every means to secure one. the first question that arises is, what are those means? if the state in which his residence lies has a library law, empowering any town or city to raise money by taxation for founding and maintaining a free library, the way is apparently easy, at first sight. but here comes in the problem--can the requisite authority to lay the tax be secured? this may involve difficulties unforeseen at first. if there is a city charter, does it empower the municipal authorities (city council or aldermen) to levy such a tax? if not, then appeal must be made to a popular vote, at some election of municipal officers, at which the ballots for or against a library tax should determine the question. this will at once involve a campaign of education, in which should be enlisted ( ) the editors of all the local papers. ( ) the local clergymen, lawyers and physicians. ( ) all literary men and citizens of wealth or influence in the community. ( ) all teachers in the public schools and other institutions of learning. ( ) the members of the city or town government. these last will be apt to feel any impulse of public sentiment more keenly than their own individual opinions on the subject. in any case, the public-spirited man who originates the movement should enlist as many able coadjutors as he can. if he is not himself gifted with a ready tongue, he should persuade some others who are ready and eloquent talkers to take up the cause, and should inspire them with his own zeal. a public meeting should be called, after a goodly number of well-known and influential people are enlisted (not before) and addresses should be made, setting forth the great advantage of a free library to every family. its value to educate the people, to furnish entertainment that will go far to supplant idleness and intemperance, to help on the work of the public schools, and to elevate the taste, improve the morals, quicken the intellect and employ the leisure hours of all, should be set forth. with all these means of persuasion constantly in exercise, and unremitting diligence in pushing the good cause through the press and by every private opportunity, up to the very day of the election, the chances are heavily in favor of passing the library measure by a good majority. it must be a truly boeotian community, far gone in stupidity or something worse, which would so stand in its own light as to vote down a measure conducing in the highest degree to the public intelligence. but even should it be defeated, its advocates should never be discouraged. like all other reforms or improvements, its progress may be slow at first, but it is none the less sure to win in the end. one defeat has often led to a more complete victory when the conflict is renewed. the beaten party gathers wisdom by experience, finds out any weakness existing in its ranks or its management, and becomes sensible where its greatest strength should be put forth in a renewal of the contest. the promoters of the measure should at once begin a fresh agitation. they should pledge every friend of the library scheme to stand by it himself, and to secure at least one new convert to the cause. and the chances are that it will be carried triumphantly through at the next trial, or, if not then, at least within no long time. but we should consider also the case of those communities where no state library law exists. these are unhappily not a few; and it is a remarkable fact that even so old, and rich, and well-developed a state as pennsylvania had no such provision for public enlightenment until within three years. in the absence of a law empowering local governments or voters to lay a tax for such a purpose, the most obvious way of founding a library is by local subscription. this is of course a less desirable method than one by which all citizens should contribute to the object in proportion to their means. but it is better to avail of the means that exist in any place than to wait an indefinite period for a state legislature to be educated up to the point of passing measures which would render the formation of libraries easy in all places. let the experiment be tried of founding a library by individual effort and concert. with only two or three zealous and active promoters, even such a plan can be carried into successful operation in almost any community. a canvass should be made from house to house, with a short prospectus or agreement drawn up, pledging the subscribers to give a certain sum toward the foundation of a library. if a few residents with large property can be induced to head the list with liberal subscriptions, it will aid much in securing confidence in the success of the movement, and inducing others to subscribe. no contributions, however small, should fail to be welcomed, since they stand for a wider interest in the object. after a thorough canvass of the residents of the place, a meeting of those subscribing should be called, and a statement put before them of the amount subscribed. then an executive committee, say of three or five members, should be chosen to take charge of the enterprise. this committee should appoint a chairman, a secretary, and a treasurer, the latter to receive and disburse the funds subscribed. the chairman should call and preside at meetings of the committee, of which the secretary should record the proceedings in a book kept for the purpose. the first business of the library committee should be to confer and determine upon the ways and means of organizing the library. this involves a selection of books suitable for a beginning, a place of deposit for them, and a custodian or librarian to catalogue them and keep the record of the books drawn out and returned. usually, a room can be had for library purposes in some public building or private house, centrally located, without other expense than that of warming and lighting. the services of a librarian, too, can often be secured by competent volunteer aid, there being usually highly intelligent persons with sufficient leisure to give their time for the common benefit, or to share that duty with others, thus saving all the funds for books to enrich the library. the chief trouble likely to be encountered by a library committee will lie in the selection of books to form the nucleus or starting point of the collection. without repeating anything heretofore suggested, it may be said that great care should be taken to have books known to be excellent, both interesting in substance and attractive in style. to so apportion the moderate amount of money at disposal as to give variety and interest to the collection, and attract readers from the start, is a problem requiring good judgment for its solution. much depends upon the extent of the fund, but even with so small a sum as two or three hundred dollars, a collection of the very best historians, poets, essayists, travellers and voyagers, scientists, and novelists can be brought together, which will furnish a range of entertaining and instructive reading for several hundred borrowers. the costlier encyclopaedias and works of reference might be waited for until funds are recruited by a library fair, or lectures, or amateur concerts, plays, or other evening entertainments. another way of recruiting the library which has often proved fruitful is to solicit contributions of books and magazines from families and individuals in the vicinity. this should be undertaken systematically some time after the subscriptions in money have been gathered in. it is not good policy to aim at such donations at the outset, since many might make them an excuse for not subscribing to the fund for founding the library, which it is to the interest of all to make as large as possible. but when once successfully established, appeals for books and periodicals will surely add largely to the collection, and although many of such accessions may be duplicates, they will none the less enlarge the facilities for supplying the demands of readers. families who have read through all or nearly all the books they possess will gladly bestow them for so useful a purpose, especially when assured of reaping reciprocal benefit by the opportunity of freely perusing a great variety of choice books, new and old, which they have never read. sometimes, too, a public-spirited citizen, when advised of the lack of a good cyclopaedia, or of the latest extensive dictionary, or collective biography, in the library, will be happy to supply it, thereby winning the gratitude and good will of all who frequent the library. all donations should have inserted in them a neat book-plate, with the name of the donor inscribed, in connection with the name of the library. many a useful library of circulation has been started with a beginning of fifty to a hundred volumes, and the little acorn of learning thus planted has grown up in the course of years to a great tree, full of fruitful and wide-spreading branches. chapter . classification. if there is any subject which, more than all others, divides opinion and provokes endless controversy among librarians and scholars, it is the proper classification of books. from the beginning of literature this has been a well-nigh insoluble problem. treatise after treatise has been written upon it, system has been piled upon system, learned men have theorised and wrangled about it all their lives, and successive generations have dropped into their graves, leaving the vexed question as unsettled as ever. every now and then a body of _savans_ or a convention of librarians wrestles with it, and perhaps votes upon it, "and by decision more embroils the fray" since the dissatisfied minority, nearly as numerous and quite as obstinate as the majority, always refuses to be bound by it. no sooner does some sapient librarian, with the sublime confidence of conviction, get his classification house of cards constructed to his mind, and stands rapt in admiration before it, when there comes along some wise man of the east, and demolishes the fair edifice at a blow, while the architect stands by with a melancholy smile, and sees all his household gods lying shivered around him. meanwhile, systems of classification keep on growing, until, instead of the thirty-two systems so elaborately described in edwards's memoirs of libraries, we have almost as many as there are libraries, if the endless modifications of them are taken into account. in fact, one begins to realise that the schemes for the classification of knowledge are becoming so numerous, that a classification of the systems themselves has fairly become a desideratum. the youthful neophyte, who is struggling after an education in library science, and thinks perhaps that it is or should be an exact science, is bewildered by the multitude of counsellors, gets a head-ache over their conflicting systems, and adds to it a heart-ache, perhaps, over the animosities and sarcasms which divide the warring schools of opinion. perhaps there would be less trouble about classification, if the system-mongers would consent to admit at the outset that no infallible system is possible, and would endeavor, amid all their other learning, to learn a little of the saving grace of modesty. a writer upon this subject has well observed that there is no man who can work out a scheme of classification that will satisfy permanently even himself. much less should he expect that others, all having their favorite ideas and systems, should be satisfied with his. as there is no royal road to learning, so there can be none to classification; and we democratic republicans, who stand upon the threshold of the twentieth century, may rest satisfied that in the republic of letters no autocrat can be allowed. the chief difficulty with most systems for distributing the books in a library appears to lie in the attempt to apply scientific minuteness in a region where it is largely inapplicable. one can divide and sub-divide the literature of any science indefinitely, in a list of subjects, but such exhaustive sub-divisions can never be made among the books on the shelves. here, for example, is a "treatise on diseases of the heart and lungs." this falls naturally into its two places in the subject catalogue, the one under "heart," and the second under "lungs;" but the attempt to classify it on the shelves must fail, as regards half its contents. you cannot tear the book to pieces to satisfy logical classification. thousands of similar cases will occur, where the same book treats of several subjects. nearly all periodicals and transactions of societies of every kind refuse to be classified, though they can be catalogued perfectly on paper by analysing their contents. to bring all the resources of the library on any subject together on the shelves is clearly impossible. they must be assembled for readers from various sections of the library, where the rule of analogy or of superior convenience has placed them. what is termed close classification, it will be found, fails by attempting too much. one of the chief obstacles to its general use is that it involves a too complicated notation. the many letters and figures that indicate position on the shelves are difficult to remember in the direct ratio of their number. the more minute the classification, the more signs of location are required. when they become very numerous, in any system of classification, the system breaks down by its own weight. library attendants consume an undue amount of time in learning it, and library cataloguers and classifiers in affixing the requisite signs of designation to the labels, the shelves, and the catalogues. memory, too, is unduly taxed to apply the system. while a superior memory may be found equal to any task imposed upon it, average memories are not so fortunate. the expert librarian, in whose accomplished head the whole world of science and literature lies coördinated, so that he can apply his classification unerringly to all the books in a vast library, must not presume that unskilled assistants can do the same. one of the mistakes made by the positivists in classification is the claim that their favorite system can be applied to all libraries alike. that this is a fallacy may be seen in an example or two. take the case of a large and comprehensive botanical library, in which an exact scientific distribution of the books may and should be made. it is classified not only in the grand divisions, such as scientific and economic botany, etc., but a close analytical treatment is extended over the whole vegetable kingdom. books treating of every plant are relegated to their appropriate classes, genera, and species, until the whole library is organised on a strictly scientific basis. but in the case, even of what are called large libraries, so minute a classification would be not only unnecessary, but even obstructive to prompt service of the books. and the average town library, containing only a shelf or two of botanical works, clearly has no use for such a classification. the attempt to impose a universal law upon library arrangement, while the conditions of the collections are endlessly varied, is foredoomed to failure. the object of classification is to bring order out of confusion, and to arrange the great mass of books in science and literature of which every library is composed, so that those on related subjects should be as nearly as possible brought together. let us suppose a collection of some hundred thousand volumes, in all branches of human knowledge, thrown together without any classification or catalogue, on the tables, the shelves, and the floor of an extensive reading-room. suppose also an assemblage of scholars and other readers, ready and anxious to avail themselves of these literary treasures, this immense library without a key. each wants some certain book, by some author whose name he knows, or upon some subject upon which he seeks to inform himself. but how vain and hopeless the effort to go through all this chaos of learning, to find the one volume which he needs! this illustration points the prime necessity of classification of some kind, before a collection of books can be used in an available way. then comes in the skilled bibliographer, to convert this chaos into a cosmos, to illumine this darkness with the light of science. he distributes the whole mass, volume by volume, into a few great distinct classes; he creates families or sub-divisions in every class; he assembles together in groups all that treat of the same subject, or any of its branches; and thus the entire scattered multitude of volumes is at length coördinated into a clear and systematic collection, ready for use in every department. a great library is like a great army: when unorganized, your army is a mere undisciplined mob: but divide and sub-divide it into army corps, divisions, brigades, regiments, and companies, and you can put your finger upon every man. to make this complete organization of a library successful, one must have an organising mind, a wide acquaintance with literature, history, and the outlines, at least, of all the sciences; a knowledge of the ancient and of various modern languages; a quick intuition, a ripe judgment, a cultivated taste, a retentive memory, and a patience and perseverance that are inexhaustible. even were all these qualities possessed, there will be in the arrangement elements of discord and of a failure. a multitude of uncertain points in classification, and many exceptions will arise; and these must of necessity be settled arbitrarily. the more conversant one becomes with systems of classification, when reduced to practice, the more he becomes assured that a perfect bibliographical system is impossible. every system of classification must find its application fraught with doubts, complications, and difficulties; but the wise bibliographer will not pause in his work to resolve all these insoluble problems; he will classify the book in hand according to his best judgment at the moment it comes before him. he can no more afford to spend time over intricate questions of the preponderance of this, that, or the other subject in a book, than a man about to walk to a certain place can afford to debate whether he shall put his right foot forward or his left. the one thing needful is to go forward. referring to the chapter on bibliography for other details, i may here say that the french claim to have reached a highly practical system of classification in that set forth in j. c. brunet's _manuel du libraire_. this is now generally used in the arrangement of collections of books in france, with some modifications, and the book trade find it so well adapted to their wants, that classified sale and auction catalogues are mostly arranged on that system. it has only five grand divisions: theology, law, arts and sciences, belles-lettres, and history. each of these classes has numerous sub-divisions. for example, geography and voyages and travels form a division of history, between the philosophy of history and chronology, etc. the classification in use in the _bibliothèque nationale_ of france places theology first, followed by law, history, philosophy and belles-lettres. the grand division of philosophy includes all which is classified under arts and sciences in the system of brunet. in the library of the british museum the classification starts with theology, followed by . jurisprudence; . natural history (including botany, geology, zoölogy, and medicine); . art (including archaeology, fine arts, architecture, music, and useful arts); . philosophy (including politics, economics, sociology, education, ethics, metaphysics, mathematics, military and naval science, and chemistry); . history (including heraldry and genealogy); . geography (including ethnology); . biography (including epistles); . belles-lettres (including poetry, drama, rhetoric, criticism, bibliography, collected works, encyclopaedias, speeches, proverbs, anecdotes, satirical and facetious works, essays, folklore and fiction); . philology. sub-divisions by countries are introduced in nearly all the classes. in the library of congress the classification was originally based upon lord bacon's scheme for the division of knowledge into three great classes, according to the faculty of the mind employed in each. . history (based upon memory); . philosophy (based upon reason); . poetry (based upon imagination). this scheme was much better adapted to a classification of ideas than of books. its failure to answer the ends of a practical classification of the library led to radical modifications of the plan, as applied to the books on the shelves, for reasons of logical arrangement, as well as of convenience. a more thorough and systematic re-arrangement is now in progress. mr. c. a. cutter has devised a system of "expansive classification," now widely used in american libraries. in this, the classes are each indicated by a single letter, followed by numbers representing divisions by countries, and these in turn by letters indicating sub-divisions by subjects, etc. it is claimed that this method is not a rigid unchangeable system, but adaptable in a high degree, and capable of modification to suit the special wants of any library. in it the whole range of literature and science is divided into several grand classes, which, with their sub-classes, are indicated by the twenty-six letters of the alphabet. thus class a embraces generalia; b to d, spiritual sciences (including philosophy and religion); e to g, historical sciences (including, besides history and biography, geography and travels); h to k, social sciences (including law and political science and economics); l to p, natural sciences; q, medicine; and r to z, arts (including not only mechanical, recreative and fine arts, but music, languages, literature, and bibliography). the sub-divisions of these principal classes are arranged with progressive fullness, to suit smaller or larger libraries. thus, the first classification provides only eleven classes, suited to very small libraries: the second is expanded to fifteen classes, the third to thirty classes, and so on up to the seventh or final one, designed to provide for the arrangement of the very largest libraries. this is the most elaborate and far-reaching library classification yet put forth, claiming superior clearness, flexibility, brevity of notation, logical coördination, etc., while objections have been freely made to it on the score of over-refinement and aiming at the unattainable. what is known as the decimal or the dewey system of classification was originally suggested by mr. n. b. shurtleff's "decimal system for the arrangement and administration of libraries," published at boston in . but in its present form it has been developed by mr. melvil dewey into a most ingenious scheme for distributing the whole vast range of human knowledge into ten classes, marked from to , each of which sub-divides into exactly ten sub-classes, all divisible in their turn into ten minor divisions, and so on until the material in hand, or the ingenuity of the classifier is exhausted. the notation of the books on the shelves corresponds to these divisions and sub-divisions. the claims of this system, which has been quite extensively followed in the smaller american libraries, and in many european ones, are economy, simplicity, brevity of notation, expansibility, unchanging call-numbers, etc. it has been criticised as too mechanical, as illogical in arrangement of classes, as presenting many incongruities in its divisions, as procrustean, as wholly inadequate in its classification of jurisprudence, etc. it is partially used by librarians who have had to introduce radical changes in portions of the classification, and in fact it is understood that the classification has been very largely made over both in amherst college library and in that of columbia university, n. y., where it was fully established. this only adds to the cumulative proofs that library classification cannot be made an exact science, but is in its nature indefinitely progressive and improvable. its main object is not to classify knowledge, but books. there being multitudes of books that do not belong absolutely to any one class, all classification of them is necessarily a compromise. nearly all the classification schemers have made over their schemes--some of them many times. i am not arguing against classification, which is essential to the practical utility of any library. an imperfect classification is much better than none: but the tendency to erect classification into a fetish, and to lay down cast-iron rules for it, should be guarded against. in any library, reasons of convenience must often prevail over logical arrangement; and he who spends time due to prompt library service in worrying over errors in a catalogue, or vexing his soul at a faulty classification, is as mistaken as those fussy individuals who fancy that they are personally responsible for the obliquity of the earth's axis. it may be added that in the american library association's catalogue of , books for a popular library, washington, , the classification is given both on the dewey (decimal) system, and on the cutter expansive system, so that all may take their choice. the fixed location system of arrangement, by which every book is assigned by its number to one definite shelf, is objectionable as preventing accessions from being placed with their cognate books. this is of such cardinal importance in every library, that a more elastic system of some kind should be adopted, to save continual re-numbering. no system which makes mere arithmetical progression a substitute for intrinsic qualities can long prove satisfactory. the relative or movable location on shelves is now more generally adopted than the old plan of numbering every shelf and assigning a fixed location to every volume on that shelf. the book-marks, if designating simply the relative order of the volumes, permit the books to be moved along, as accessions come in, from shelf to shelf, as the latter become crowded. this does not derange the numbers, since the order of succession is observed. for small town libraries no elaborate system of classification can properly be attempted. here, the most convenient grouping is apt to prove the best, because books are most readily found by it. mr. w. i. fletcher has outlined a scheme for libraries of , volumes or less, as follows: a. fiction (appended, j. juvenile books); b. english and american literature; c. history; d. biography; e. travels; f. science; g. useful arts; h. fine and recreative arts; i. political and social science; k. philosophy and religion; l. works on language and in foreign languages; r. reference books. numerous sub-divisions would be required to make such a scheme (or indeed any other) fit any collection of books. in arranging the main classes, care should be taken to bring those most drawn upon near to the delivery desk, or charging system of the library. the alphabet is usefully applied in the arrangement of several of the great classes of books, and in many sub-divisions of other classes. thus, all english and american fiction may be arranged in a single alphabet of authors, including english translations of foreign works. all collected works, or polygraphy, may form an alphabet, as well as poetry, dramatic works, collections of letters, and miscellanea, arranged by authors' names. in any of these classes, sub-divisions by languages may be made, if desired. the class biography may best be arranged in an alphabet of the subjects of the biographies, rather than of writers, for obvious reasons of convenience in finding at once the books about each person. chapter . catalogues. catalogues of libraries are useful to readers in direct proportion to their fulfilment of three conditions: ( ) quick and ready reference. ( ) arranging all authors' names in an alphabet, followed by titles of their works. ( ) subjects or titles in their alphabetical order in the same alphabet as the authors. this is what is known as a "dictionary catalogue"; but why is it preferable to any other? because it answers more questions in less time than any other. the more prevalent styles of catalogues have been, . a list of authors, with titles of their works under each. . a catalogue of subjects, in a classified topical or alphabetical order, the authors and their works being grouped under each head. . a catalogue attempting to combine these two, by appending to the author-catalogue a classed list of subjects, with a brief of authors under each, referring to the page on which the titles of their works may be found; or else, . appending to the subject-catalogue an alphabet of authors, with similar references to pages under subjects. each of these methods of catalogue-making, while very useful, contrives to miss the highest utility, which lies in enabling the reader to put his finger on the book he wants, at one glance of the eye. the catalogue of authors will not help him to subjects, nor will the catalogue of subjects, as a rule, give the authors and titles with the fullness that may be needed. in either case, a double reference becomes necessary, consuming just twice the time, and in a two-column catalogue, three times the time required in a dictionary catalogue. the reader who wants darwin's "origin of species" finds it readily enough by the author-catalogue; but he wants, at the same time, to find other works on the same subject, and all the author-catalogues in the world will not help him to them. but give him a dictionary catalogue, and he has, in the same alphabet with his darwin, (if the library is large) dozens of books discussing the theory of that great naturalist, under species, evolution, darwinism, etc. thus he finds that there is no key which so quickly unlocks the stores of knowledge which a library contains, as a dictionary catalogue. the objections to it are chiefly brought by minds schooled in systems, who look askance on all innovations, and instinctively prefer round-about methods to short-hand ones. ask such an objector if he would prefer his dictionary of the english language arranged, not alphabetically, but subjectively, so that all medical terms should be defined only under medicine, all species of fish described only under fishes, etc., and he will probably say that there is no analogy in the case. but the analogy becomes apparent when we find, in what are called systematic catalogues, no two systems alike, and the finding of books complicated by endless varieties of classification, with no common alphabet to simplify the search. the authors of systems doubtless understand them themselves, but no one else does, until he devotes time to learn the key to them; and even when learned, the knowledge is not worth the time lost in acquiring it, since the field covered in any one catalogue is so small. alphabetical arrangement, on the other hand, strictly adhered to, is a universal key to the authors and subjects and titles of all the books contained in the library it represents. the devotee of a bibliographical system may be as mistaken as the slave of a scientific terminology. he forgets that bibliography is not a school for teaching all departments of knowledge, but a brief and handy index to books that may contain that knowledge. a student who has once made a thorough comparative test of the merits, as aids to wide and rapid research, of the old-fashioned bibliographies and the best modern dictionary catalogues, will no more deny the superiority of the latter, than he will contest the maxim that a straight line is the nearest road between two points. meantime, "while doctors disagree, disciples are free;" and the disciples who would follow the latest guides in the art "how to make and use a catalogue," must get rid of many formulas. the reader will find in the chapter on bibliography, notes on some classes of catalogues, with the more notable examples of them. we are here concerned with the true method of preparing catalogues, and such plain rules as brevity will permit to be given, will be equally adapted to private or public libraries. for more ample treatment, with reasons for and against many rules laid down, reference is made to the able and acute work, "rules for a dictionary catalogue," by c. a. cutter, published by the u. s. bureau of education, d ed. . condensed rules for an author and title catalogue. _prepared by the co-operation committee of the american library association._ entry. books are to be entered under the: surnames of authors when ascertained, the abbreviation "_anon._" being added to the titles of anonymous works. initials of authors' names when these only are known, the last initial being put first. pseudonyms of the writers when the real names are not ascertained. names of editors of collections, each separate item to be at the same time sufficiently catalogued under its own heading. names of countries, cities, societies, or other bodies which are responsible for their publication. first word (not an article or serial number) of the titles of periodicals and of anonymous books, the names of whose authors are not known. and a motto or the designation of a series may be neglected when it begins a title, and the entry may be made under the first word of the real title following. commentaries accompanying a text, and translations, are to be entered under the heading of the original work; but commentaries without the text under the name of the commentator. a book entitled "commentary on ...." and containing the text, should be put under both. the bible, or any part of it (including the apocrypha), in any language, is to be entered under the word bible. the talmud and koran (and parts of them) are to be entered under those words; the sacred books of other religions are to be entered under the names by which they are generally known; references to be given from the names of editors, translators, etc. the respondent or defender of an academical thesis is to be considered as the author, unless the work unequivocally appears to be the work of the _praeses_. books having more than one author to be entered under the one first named in the title, with a reference from each of the others. reports of civil actions are to be entered under the name of the party to the suit which stands first on the title page. reports of crown and criminal proceedings are to be entered under the name of the defendant. admiralty proceedings relating to vessels are to be put under the name of the vessel. noblemen are to be entered under their titles, unless the family name is decidedly better known. ecclesiastical dignitaries, unless popes or sovereigns, are to be entered under their surnames. sovereigns (other than greek or roman), ruling princes, oriental writers, popes, friars, persons canonized, and all other persons known _only_ by their first name, are to be entered under this first name. married women, and other persons who have changed their names, are to be put under the last well-known form. a pseudonym may be used instead of the surname (and only a reference to the pseudonym made under the surname) when an author is much more known by his false than by his real name. in case of doubt, use the real name. a society is to be entered under the first word, not an article, of its corporate name, with references from any other name by which it is known, especially from the name of the place where its headquarters are established, if it is often called by that name. references. when an author has been known by more than one name, references should be inserted from the name or names not to be used as headings to the one used. references are also to be made to the headings chosen: asked for by their titles; from other striking titles; from noticeable words in anonymous titles, especially from the names of subjects of anonymous biographies; from the names of editors of periodicals, when the periodicals are generally called by the editor's name; from the names of important translators (especially poetic translators) and commentators; from the title of an ecclesiastical dignitary, when that, and not the family name, is used in the book catalogued; and in other cases where a reference is needed to insure the ready finding of the book. headings. in the heading of titles, the names of authors are to be given in full, and in their vernacular form, except that the latin form may be used when it is more generally known, the vernacular form being added in parentheses; except, also, that sovereigns and popes may be given in the english form. english and french surnames beginning with a prefix (except the french de and d') are to be recorded under the prefix; in other languages under the word following. english compound surnames are to be entered under the last part of the name; foreign ones under the first part. designations are to be added to distinguish writers of the same name from each other. prefixes indicating the rank or profession of writers may be added in the heading, when they are part of the usual designation of the writers. names of places to be given in the english form. when both an english and a vernacular form are used in english works, prefer the vernacular. titles. the title is to be an exact transcript of the title-page, neither amended, translated, nor in any way altered, except that mottos, titles of authors, repetitions, and matter of any kind not essential, are to be omitted. where great accuracy is desirable, omissions are to be indicated by three dots (...). the titles of books especially valuable for antiquity or rarity may be given in full, with all practicable precision. the phraseology and spelling, but not necessarily the punctuation, of the title are to be exactly copied. any additions needed to make the title clear are to be supplied, and inclosed by brackets. initial capitals are to be given in english: noted events, and periods (each separate word not an article, conjunction, or preposition, may be capitalized in these cases); to adjectives and other derivatives from proper names when they have a direct reference to the person, place, etc., from which they are derived; to the first word of every sentence and of every quoted title; to titles of honor when standing instead of a proper name (_e. g._, the earl of derby, but john stanley, earl of derby); in foreign languages, according to the local usage; in doubtful cases capitals are to be avoided. foreign languages.--titles in foreign characters may be transliterated. the languages in which a book is written are to be stated when there are several, and the fact is not apparent from the title. imprints. after the title are to be given, in the following order, those in [ ] being optional: the place of publication; [and the publisher's name] (these three in the language of the title); the year as given on the title-page, but in arabic figures; [the year of copyright or actual publication, if known to be different in brackets, and preceded by c. or p. as the case may be]; the number of volumes, or of pages if there is only one volume; [the number of maps, portraits, or illustrations not included in the text]; and either the approximate size designated by letter, or the exact size in centimeters; the name of the series to which the book belongs is to be given in parentheses after the other imprint entries. after the place of publication, the place of printing may be given if different. this is desirable only in rare and old books. the number of pages is to be indicated by giving the last number of each paging, connecting the numbers by the sign +; the addition of unpaged matter may be shown by a +, or the number of pages ascertained by counting may be given in brackets. when there are more than three pagings, it is better to add them together and give the sum in brackets. these imprint entries are to give the facts, whether ascertained from the book or from other sources; those which are usually taken from the title (edition, place, publisher's name, and series) should be in the language of the title, corrections and additions being inclosed in brackets. it is better to give the words, "maps," "portraits," etc., and the abbreviations for "volumes" and "pages," in english. contents, notes. notes (in english) and contents of volumes are to be given when necessary to properly describe the works. both notes and lists of contents to be in a smaller type. miscellaneous. a single dash or indent indicates the omission of the preceding heading; a subsequent dash or indent indicates the omission of a subordinate heading, or of a title. a dash connecting numbers signifies to and including; following a number it signifies continuation. a ? following a word or entry signifies probably. brackets inclose words added to titles or imprints, or changed in form. arabic figures are to be used rather than roman; but small capitals may be used after the names of sovereigns, princes, and popes. a list of abbreviations to be used was given in the library journal, vol. : - . arrangement. the surname when used alone precedes the same name used with forenames; where the initials only of the forenames are given, they are to precede fully written forenames beginning with the same initials (_e. g._, brown, brown, j.; brown, j. l.; brown, james). the prefixes m and mc, s., st., ste., messrs., mr., and mrs., are to be arranged as if written in full, mac, sanctus, saint, sainte, messieurs, mister, and mistress. the works of an author are to be arranged in the following order: . partial collections. . single works, alphabetically, by the first word of the title. the order of alphabeting is to be that of the english alphabet. the german ae, oe, ue, are always to be written as ä, ö, ü, and arranged as a, o, u. names of persons are to precede similar names of places, which in turn precede similar first words of titles. a few desirable modifications or additions to these rules may be suggested. . in title-entries, let the year of publication stand last, instead of the indication of size. . noblemen to be entered under their family names, with reference from their titles. . instead of designations of title, profession, residence, or family, to distinguish authors, let every name be followed by the chronology, as-- james (henry) - . james (henry) - it is highly desirable to give this information as to the author's period in every title-heading, without exception, when ascertainable. if unknown, the approximate period to be given, with a query. . all titles to be written in small letters, and printed in lower case, whether in english, german, or any other language, avoiding capitals except in cases named in the rule. . works without date, when the exact date is not found, are to be described conjecturally, thus: [ ?] or [about .] . in expressing collations, use commas rather than the sign + between the pagings, as--xvi, , vii pp.--not xvi+ +vii pp. . forenames should be separated from the surnames which precede them by parenthesis rather than commas, as a clearer discrimination: as-- alembert (jean baptiste le rond d')--not alembert, jean baptiste le rond d'. the printed catalogue of the british museum library follows this method, as well as that in the preceding paragraph. . all books of history, travels, or voyages to have the period covered by them inserted in brackets, when not expressed in the title-page. . all collected works of authors, and all libraries or collections of different works to be analysed by giving the contents of each volume, either in order of volumes, or alphabetically by authors' names. of course there are multitudes of points in catalogue practice not provided for in the necessarily brief summary preceding: and, as books on the art abound, the writer gives only such space to it as justice to the wide range of library topics here treated permits. probably the most important question in preparing catalogue titles, is what space to give to the author's frequently long-drawn-out verbiage in his title-page. there are two extremes to be considered: ( ) copying the title literally and in full, however prolix; and ( ) reducing all title-pages, by a procrustean rule, to what we may call "one-line titles." take an example: "jones (richard t.) a theoretical and practical treatise on the benefits of agriculture to mankind. with an appendix containing many useful reflections derived from practical experience. iv, pp. °. london, mdccxliv." as abridged to a short title, this would read: "jones (richard t.) benefits of agriculture, iv, pp. °. lond. ." who will say that the last form of title does not convey substantially all that is significant of the book, stripped of superfluous verbiage? but we need not insist upon titles crowded into a single line of the catalogue, whether written or printed. this would do violence to the actual scope of many books, by suppressing some significant or important part of their titles. the rule should be to give in the briefest words selected out of the title (never imported into it) the essential character of the book, so far as the author has expressed it. take another example: "bowman (thomas) a new, easy, and complete hebrew course; containing a hebrew grammar, with copious hebrew and english exercises, strictly graduated: also, a hebrew-english and english-hebrew lexicon. in two parts. part i. regular verbs. edinburgh, ." this might be usefully condensed thus: bowman, (thomas) hebrew course: grammar, exercises, lexicon, [&c.] part i. regular verbs. edinburgh, . one objection brought against the dictionary catalogue is that it widely separates subjects that belong together. in the boston athenaeum catalogue, for example, the topic banks is found in vol. , while money is in vol. ; and for wages, one must go to vol. , while labor is in vol. . but there are two valid reasons for this. first, the reader who wants to know about banks or wages may care nothing about the larger topics of money or of labor; and secondly, if he does want them, he is sent to them at once by cross-reference, where they belong in the alphabet; whereas, if they were grouped under political economy, as in classed catalogues, he must hunt for them through a maze of unrelated books, without any alphabet at all. it is often forgotten by the advocates of systematic subject catalogues rather than alphabetical ones, that catalogues are for those who do not know, more than for those who do. the order of the alphabet is settled and familiar; but no classification by subjects is either familiar or settled. catalogues should aim at the greatest convenience of the greatest number of readers. it is noteworthy that the english catalogue (the one national bibliography of the current literature of that country) has adopted, since , the dictionary form of recording authors, titles and subjects in one alphabet, distinguishing authors' names by antique type. it is hoped that the american catalogue, an indispensable work in all libraries, will adopt in its annual and quinquennial issues the time-saving method of a single alphabet. it is not claimed that the dictionary catalogue possesses fully all the advantages in educating readers that the best classed catalogues embody. but the chief end of catalogues being to find books promptly, rather than to educate readers, the fact that the dictionary catalogue, though far from perfect, comes nearer to the true object than any other system, weighs heavily in its favor. edward edwards said--"many a reader has spent whole days in book-hunting [in catalogues] which ought to have been spent in book-reading." it is to save this wasted time that catalogues should aim. nothing can be easier than to make a poor catalogue, while nothing is more difficult than to make a good one. the most expert french bibliographers who have distinguished themselves by compiling catalogues have been most severely criticised by writers who no doubt would have been victimized in their turn if they had undertaken similar work. byron says "a man must serve his time to every trade, save censure;--critics all are ready made." when de bure and van praet, most accomplished bibliographers, published the catalogue of the precious library of the duke de la vallière, the abbé rive boasted that he had discovered a blunder in every one of the five thousand titles of their catalogue. barbier and brunet have both been criticised for swarms of errors in the earlier editions of their famous catalogues. the task of the exact cataloguer is full of difficulty, constantly renewed, and demanding almost encyclopaedic knowledge, and incessant care of minute particulars. the liability to error is so great in a kind of work which, more than almost any other, demands the most scrupulous accuracy, lest a catalogue should record a book with such mistakes as to completely mislead a reader, that rules are imperatively necessary. and whatever rules are adopted, a rigid adherence to them is no less essential, to avoid misapprehension and confusion. a singular instance of imperfect and misleading catalogue work was unwittingly furnished by mr. j. payne collier, a noted english critic, author, and librarian, who criticised the slow progress of the british museum catalogue, saying that he could himself do "twenty-five titles an hour without trouble." his twenty-five titles when examined, were found to contain almost every possible error that can be made in cataloguing books. these included using names of translators or editors as headings, when the author's name was on the title-page; omitting christian names of authors; omitting to specify the edition; using english instead of foreign words to give the titles of foreign books; adopting titled instead of family names for authors (which would separate stanhope's "england under queen anne" from the same writer's "history of england," published when he was lord mahon); errors in grammar, etc. these ridiculous blunders of a twenty-five-title-an-hour man exemplify the maxim "the more haste, the worse speed," in catalogue-making. that our british brethren are neither adapted nor inclined to pose as exemplars in the fine art of cataloguing, we need only cite their own self-criticisms to prove. here are two confessions found in two authors of books on catalogue-making, both englishmen. says one: "we are deficient in good bibliographies. it is a standing disgrace to the country that we have no complete bibliography of english authors, much less of english literature generally." says another: "the english are a supremely illogical people. the disposition to irregularity has made english bibliography, or work on catalogues, a by-word among those who give attention to these matters." an american may well add, "they do these things better in france and germany," while declining to claim the meed of superiority for the united states. too much prominence should not be given to place-numbers in library catalogues. the tendency to substitute mere numerical signs for authors and subjects has been carried so far in some libraries, that books are called for and charged by class-numbers only, instead of their distinctive names. an english librarian testifies that assistants trained in such libraries are generally the most ignorant of literature. when mechanical or mnemonical signs are wholly substituted for ideas and for authors, is it any wonder that persons incessantly using them become mechanical? let catalogue and classification go hand in hand in bringing all related books together, and library assistants will not stunt their intellects by becoming bond-slaves to the nine digits, nor lose the power of thought and reflection by never growing out of their _a b c's_. there are two forms of catalogue not here discussed, which are adjuncts to the library catalogue proper. the accession catalogue, kept in a large volume, records the particulars regarding every volume, on its receipt by the library. it gives author, title, date, size, binding, whence acquired, cost, etc., and assigns it an accession number, which it ever after retains. the shelf catalogue (or shelf-list) is a portable one divided into sections representing the cases of shelves in the library. it gives the shelf classification number, author, brief title and number of volumes of each book, as arranged on the shelves; thus constituting an inventory of each case, or stack, throughout the library. to check a library over is to take an account of stock of all the books it should contain. this is done annually in some libraries, and the deficiencies reported. all libraries lose some books, however few, and these losses will be small or great according to the care exercised and the safe-guards provided. the method is to take one division of the library at a time, and check off all books on the shelves by their numbers on the shelf-list, supplemented by careful examination of all numbers drawn out, or at bindery, or in other parts of the library. not a volume should be absent unaccounted for. those found missing after a certain time should be noted on the shelf-list and accession book, and replaced, if important, after the loss is definitely assured. the reason for writing and printing all catalogue titles in small letters, without capitals (except for proper names) is two-fold. first, there can be no standard prescribing what words should or should not be capitalized, and the cataloguer will be constantly at a loss, or will use capitals in the most unprincipled way. he will write one day, perhaps, "the dangers of great cities," and the next, "the dangers of great cities"--with no controlling reason for either form. secondly, the symmetry of a title or a sentence, whether written or printed, is best attained by the uniform exclusion of capitals. that this should be applied to all languages, notwithstanding the habit of most german typographers of printing all nouns with capitals, is borne out by no less an authority than the new grimm's _deutsches wörterbuch_, which prints all words in "lower case" type except proper names. nothing can be more unsightly than the constant breaking up of the harmony of a line by the capricious use of capitals. to discriminate carefully the various editions of each work is part of the necessary duty of the cataloguer. many books have passed through several editions, and as these are by no means always specified on the title-page, one should establish the sequence, if possible, by other means. the first edition is one which includes all copies printed from the plates or the type as first set; the second, one which is reprinted, with or without changes in the text or the title. first editions often acquire a greatly enhanced value, in the case of a noted author, by reason of changes made in the text in later issues of the work. for though the latest revision may and should be the author's best improved expression, his earliest furnishes food for the hunters of literary curiosities. every catalogue should distinguish first editions thus [ st ed.] in brackets. in the arrangement of titles in catalogues, either of the various works of the same writer, or of many books on the same subject, some compilers follow the alphabetical order, while others prefer the chronological--or the order of years of publication of the various works. the latter has the advantage of showing the reader the earlier as distinguished from the recent literature, but in a long sequence of authors (in a subject-catalogue) it is more difficult to find a given writer's work, or to detect its absence. the task of accurately distributing the titles in a catalogue of subjects would be much simplified, if the books were all properly named. but it is an unhappy failing of many writers to give fanciful or far-fetched titles to their books, so that, instead of a descriptive name, they have names that describe nothing. this adds indefinitely to the labor of the cataloguer, who must spend time to analyse to some extent the contents of the book, before he can classify it. this must be done to avoid what may be gross errors in the catalogue. familiar examples are ruskin's notes on sheep-folds (an ecclesiastical criticism) classified under agriculture; and edgeworth's irish bulls under domestic animals. the work of alphabeting a large number of title-cards is much simplified and abbreviated by observing certain obvious rules in the distribution. ( ) gather in the same pile all the cards in the first letter of the alphabet, a, followed in successive parallel rows by all the b's, and so on, to the letter z. ( ) next, pursue the same course with all the titles, arranging under the second letter of the alphabet, aa, ab, ac, etc., and so with all the cards under b. c. &c. for all the letters. ( ) if there still remain a great many titles to distribute into a closer alphabetic sequence, the third operation will consist in arranging under the third letter of the alphabet, _e. g._, abb, abc, abd, etc. the same method is pursued throughout the entire alphabet, until all the title-cards are arranged in strict order. too much care cannot be taken to distinguish between books written by different authors, but bearing the same name. many catalogues are full of errors in this respect, attributing, for example, works written by jonathan edwards, the younger, ( - ) to jonathan edwards the elder, ( - ); or cataloguing under henry james, jr., the works of his father, henry james. the abundant means of identification which exist should cause such errors to be avoided; and when the true authorship is fixed, every author's chronology should appear next after his name on every card-title: _e. g._ james (henry, - ) moralism and christianity, new york, . james (henry, - ) daisy miller, n. y. . the designation of book sizes is a vexed question in catalogues. the generally used descriptions of size, from folio down to mo. signify no accurate measurement whatever, the same book being described by different catalogues as mo. vo, crown vo. &c., according to fancy; while the same cataloguer who describes a volume as octavo to-day, is very likely to call it a duodecimo to-morrow. library catalogues are full of these heterogeneous descriptions, and the size-notation is the _bête noir_ of the veteran bibliographer, and the despair of the infant librarian. yet it is probable that the question has excited a discussion out of all proportion to its importance. of what consequence is the size of a book to any one, except to the searcher who has to find it on the shelves? while the matter has been much exaggerated, some concert or uniformity in describing the sizes of books is highly desirable. a committee of the american library association agreed to a size-notation, figured below, adopting the metric system as the standard, to which we add the approximate equivalents in inches. _centimetres_ _size_ _outside_ _sizes._ _abbreviations._ _height._ _inches._ folio, f°. f quarto, °. q octavo, °. o duodecimo, °. d sixteen mo., °. s . twenty-four mo., °. t thirty-two mo., °. tt . forty-eight mo., °. fe it will be understood that the figure against each size indicated represents the maximum measure: _e. g._ a volume is octavo when above and below centimetres ( to inches high). as this question of sizes concerns publishers and booksellers, as well as librarians, and the metric system, though established in continental europe, is in little use in the united states and england, it remains doubtful if any general adherence to this system of notation can be reached--or, indeed, to any other. the publishers' weekly (n. y.) the organ of the book trade, has adopted it for the titles of new books actually in hand, but follows the publishers' descriptions of sizes as to others. librarian j. winter jones, of the british museum, recommended classing all books above twelve inches in height as folios, those between ten and twelve inches as quartos, those from seven to ten inches as octavos, and all measuring seven inches or under as mos. mr. h. b. wheatley, in his work, "how to catalogue a library," , proposed to call all books small octavos which measure below the ordinary octavo size. as all sizes "run into each other," and the former classification by the fold of the sheets is quite obsolete, people appear to be left to their own devices in describing the sizes of books. while the metric notation would be exact, if the size of every book were expressed in centimetres, the size-notation in the table given is wholly wanting in precision, and has no more claim to be adopted than any other arbitrary plan. still, it will serve ordinary wants, and the fact that we cannot reach an exact standard is no reason for refusing to be as nearly exact as we can. and while we are upon the subject of notation may be added a brief explanation of the method adopted in earlier ages, (and especially the years reckoned from the christian era) to express numbers by roman numerals. the one simple principle was, that each letter placed after a figure of greater equal value adds to it just the value which itself has; and, on the other hand, a letter of less value placed before (or on the left of) a larger figure, diminishes the value of that figure in the same proportion. for example: these letters--vi represent six; which is the same as saying v+i. on the contrary, these same letters reversed represent four; thus--iv: that is v-i= . nine is represented by ix, _i. e._, x-i, ten minus one. on the same principle, lx represents --or l+n: whereas xl means --being l-x. proceeding on the same basis, we find that lxx=l+xx= ; and lxxx or l+xxx is . but when we come to ninety, instead of adding four x's to the l, they took a shorter method, and expressed it in two figures instead of five, thus, xc, _i. e._ or c-x= . the remarkable thing about this roman notation is that only six letters sufficed to express all numbers up to one thousand, and even beyond, by skilful and simple combinations: namely the i, the v, the x, the l, the c, and the m, and by adding or subtracting some of these letters, when placed before or after another letter, they had a whole succession of numbers done to their hand--thus: i, xx, cc, ii, xxx, ccc, iii, xl, cccc, iv, l, d, v, lx, dc, vi, lxx, dcc, vii, lxxx, dccc, viii, xc, cm, ix, c (centum), m, (mille), , x, now, when the early printers came to apply dates of publication to the books they issued, (and here is where their methods of notation become most important to librarians) they used precisely these methods. for example, to express the year , they printed it thus: mdcvc, that is-- + + + - . but the printers of the th century and later, often used complications of letters, dictated by caprice rather than by any fixed principles, so that it is sometimes difficult to interpret certain dates in the colophons or title-pages of books, without collateral aid of some kind, usually supplied to the librarian by bibliographies. one of the simpler methods of departure from the regular notation as above explained, was to substitute for the letter d ( ) two letters, thus--i[inverted c], an i and a c inverted, supposed to resemble the letter d in outline. another fancy was to replace the m, standing for , , by the symbols ci[inverted c]--which present a faint approach to the outline of the letter m, for which they stand. thus, to express the year , we have this combination--ci[inverted c] i[inverted c] cx, which would be indecipherable to a modern reader, uninstructed in the numerical signs anciently used, and their values. in like manner, is expressed thus: mdxliix, meaning + + + - . and for , we have ci[inverted c] i[inverted c] c xxvi. as every considerable library has early printed books, a librarian must know these peculiarities of notation, in order to catalogue them properly, without mistake as to their dates. in some books, where a capricious combination of roman numerals leaves him without a precedent to guide him to the true date, reference must be had to the bibliographies of the older literature, (as hain, panzer, etc.), which will commonly solve the doubt. as to the mechanics of catalogue-making, widely different usages and materials prevail. in america, the card or title-slip system is well nigh universal, while in england it is but slowly gaining ground, as against the ledger or blank book catalogue. its obvious advantage lies in affording the only possible means of maintaining a strict alphabetical sequence in titles, whether of authors or subjects. the title-cards should be always of uniform size, and the measure most in vogue is five inches in length by three inches in breadth. they should not be too stiff, though of sufficient thickness, whether of paper or of thin card board, to stand upright without doubling at the edges. they may be ruled or plain, at pleasure, and kept in drawers, trays, or (in case of a small catalogue) in such paste-board boxes as letter envelopes come in. the many advantages of the card system, both for catalogues and indexes, should not lead us to overlook its palpable defects. these are ( ) it obliges readers to manipulate many cards, to arrive at all the works of an author, or all the books on any subject, instead of having them under his eye at once, as in printed catalogues. ( ) it can be used only in the library, and in only one place in the library, and by only one person at a time in the same spot, while a printed catalogue can be freely used anywhere, and by any numbers, copies being multiplied. ( ) it entails frequent crowding of readers around the catalogue drawers, who need to consult the same subjects or authors at the same time. ( ) it requires immeasurably more room than a printed catalogue, and in fact, exacts space which in some libraries can be ill afforded. ( ) it obliges readers to search the title-cards at inconvenient angles of vision, and often with inadequate light. ( ) it is cumbersome in itself, and doubly cumbersome to searchers, who must stand up instead of sitting to consult it, and travel from drawer to drawer, interfering with other searchers almost constantly, or losing time in waiting. ( ) to this is added the inconvenience of constant insertion of new title-cards by members of the library staff, and the time-consuming process of working the rods which keep the cards in place, if they are used, and if not used, the risk of loss of titles, or misplacement equivalent to loss for a time. says mr. h. b. wheatley: "i can scarcely imagine anything more maddening than a frequent reference to cards in a drawer." but it is to be considered that all systems have defects, and the problem of choosing the least defective is ever before us. most of the suggested defects of the card catalogue, as concerns the readers, can be obviated by making a two-fold catalogue, the type-written titles being manifolded, and one set arranged in card-drawers for the use of the library staff, while another is mounted on large sheets in bound volumes for use of the public. this would secure the advantages of a printed catalogue, with no more expense than the manuscript titles would cost. if desired, a number of copies could be bound up for reading-room use. accessions of new books could be incorporated from month to month, by leaving the right-hand pages blank for that purpose. this would be near enough to alphabetical order for most readers, with the immense advantage of opening at one glance before the eye, any author or subject. it would go far to solve the problem how to unite the flexibility and perfect alphabeting of the card system, with the superior comfort, safety, and ease of reference of the book. it would also be a safe-guard against the loss or displacement of titles, a danger inherent in the card system, as they could be replaced by copying missing titles from the catalogue volumes. while the undoubted merits of the card system have been much overrated, it would be as unwise to dispense with it as the complete official catalogue of the library, as it would be to tie down the public to its use, when there is a more excellent way, saving time and patience, and contributing to the comfort of all. to print or not to print? is a vital question for libraries, and it is in most cases decided to forego or to postpone printing, because of its great expense. yet so manifest are the advantages of a printed catalogue, that all public libraries should make every effort to endow their readers with its benefits. these advantages are ( ) greater facility of reading titles. ( ) much more rapid turning from letter to letter of the catalogue alphabet. ( ) ability to consult it outside of the library. ( ) unlimited command of the catalogue by many readers at once, from the number of copies at hand, whereas card catalogues or manuscript volumes involve loss of time in waiting, or interfering with the researches of others. a part of these advantages may be realized by printing type-written copies of all titles in duplicate, or by carbon paper in manifold, thus furnishing the library with several copies of its catalogue: but why not extend this by multiplying copies through the ingenious processes now in use, by which the printing of titles can be effected far more cheaply than in any printing office? might not every library become its own printer, thus saving it from the inconvenience and risk of sending its titles outside, or the great expense of copying them for the printer? the titles thus manifolded could be combined into volumes, by cutting away all superfluous margins and mounting the thin title-slips alphabetically on paper of uniform size, which, when bound, would be readily handled. all the titles of an author's works would be under the eye at a glance, instead of only one at a time, as in the card catalogue. and the titles of books on every subject would lie open, without slowly manipulating an infinite series of cards, one after another, to reveal them to the eye. the classification marks could be readily placed against each title, or even printed as a part of the manifold card titles. not that the card catalogue system would be abolished: it would remain as the only complete catalogue of the library, always up to date, in a single alphabet. daily accessions inserted in it would render it the standard of appeal as to all that the library contained, and it would thus supplement the printed catalogue. of course, large and increasing accessions would require to be combined in occasional supplementary volumes of the catalogue; and in no long number of years the whole might be re-combined in a single alphabet, furnishing a printed dictionary catalogue up to its date. the experience of the great british museum library in this matter of catalogues is an instructive one. after printing various incomplete author-catalogues in the years from to , the attempt to print came to a full stop. the extensive collection grew apace, and the management got along somehow with a manuscript catalogue, the titles of which (written in script with approximate fullness) were pasted in a series of unwieldy but alphabetically arranged volumes. to incorporate the accessions, these volumes had continually to be taken apart by the binder, and the new titles combined in alphabetical order, entailing a literally endless labor of transcribing, shifting, relaying and rebinding, to secure even an imperfect alphabetical sequence. in , the catalogue had grown to over two thousand thick folio volumes, and it was foreseen, by a simple computation of the rate of growth of the library, that in a very few years its catalogue could no longer be contained in the reading-room. the bulky manuscript catalogue system broke down by its own weight, and the management was compelled to resort to printing in self defence. before the printing had reached any where near the concluding letters of the alphabet, the ms. catalogue had grown to three thousand volumes, and was a daily and hourly incubus to librarians and readers. this printed catalogue of the largest library in the world, save one, is strictly a catalogue of authors, giving in alphabetical order the names, followed by the titles of all works by each writer which that library possesses. in addition, it refers in the case of biographies or comments upon any writer found in the index, to the authors of such works; and also from translators or editors to the authors of the translated or edited work. the titles of accessions to the library (between thirty and forty thousand volumes a year) were incorporated year by year as the printing went on. all claim to minute accuracy had to be ignored, and the titles greatly abridged by omitting superfluous words, otherwise its cost would have been prohibitory. the work was prosecuted with great energy and diligence by the staff of able scholars in the service of the museum library. as the catalogue embraces far more titles of books, pamphlets, and periodicals than any other ever printed, it is a great public boon, the aid it affords to all investigators being incalculable. and any library possessing it may find, with many titles of rare and unattainable works, multitudes of books now available by purchase in the market, to enrich its own collection. it is said to contain about , , titles and cross-references. it is printed in large, clear type, double columns, well spaced, and its open page is a comfort to the eye. issued in paper covers, the thin folios can be bound in volumes of any thickness desired by the possessor. it has several capital defects: ( ) it fails to discriminate authors of the same name by printing the years or period of each; instead of which it gives designations like "the elder", "the younger", or the residence, or occupation, or title of the author. the years during which any writer flourished would have been easily added to the name in most cases, and the value of such information would have been great, solving at once many doubts as to many writers. ( ) the catalogue fails to print the collations of all works, except as to a portion of those published since , or in the newer portions issued. this omission leaves a reader uncertain whether the book recorded is a pamphlet or an extensive work. ( ) the letters i and j and u and v are run together in the alphabet, after the ancient fashion, thus placing josephus before irving, and utah after virginia; an arrangement highly perplexing, not to say exasperating, to every searcher. to follow an obsolete usage may be defended on the plea that it is a good one, but when it is bad as well as outworn, no excuse for it can satisfy a modern reader. ( ) no analysis is given of the collected works of authors, nor of many libraries made up of monographs. one cannot find in it the contents of the volumes of any of swift's works, nor even of milton's prose writings. ( ) it fails to record the names of publishers, except in the case of some early or rare books. the printing of this monumental catalogue began in , the volumes of ms. catalogue being set up by the printer without transcription, which would have delayed the work indefinitely, and it is now substantially completed. its total cost will be not far from £ , . there are about volumes or parts in all. only copies were printed, part of which were presented to large libraries, and others were offered for sale at £ . per annum, payable as issued, so that a complete set costs about £ . one learns with surprise that only about forty copies have been subscribed for. this furnishes another evidence of the low estate of bibliography in england, where, in a nation full of rich book-collectors and owners of fine libraries, almost no buyers are found for the most extensive bibliography ever published, a national work, furnishing so copious and useful a key to the literature of the world in every department of human knowledge. chapter . copyright and libraries. the preservation of literature through public libraries has been and will ever be one of the most signal benefits which civilization has brought to mankind. when we consider the multitude of books which have perished from the earth, from the want of a preserving hand, a lively sense of regret comes over us that so few libraries have been charged with the duty of acquiring and keeping every publication that comes from the press. yet we owe an immeasurable debt to the wisdom and far-sightedness of those who, centuries ago, provided by this means for the perpetuity of literature. the earliest step taken in this direction appears to have been in france. by an ordinance proclaimed in , regulating the printing of books, it was required that a copy of each work issued from the press should be deposited in the royal library. and it was distinctly affirmed that the ground of this exaction was to preserve to posterity the literature of the time, which might otherwise disappear.[ ] this edict of three centuries and a half ago was the seed-grain from which has grown the largest library yet gathered in the world--the _bibliothèque nationale_ of france. it antedated by more than two hundred years, any similar provision in england for the preservation of the national literature. it is a notable fact that the united states of america was the first nation that ever embodied the principle of protection to the rights of authors in its fundamental law. "the congress shall have power to promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries." thus anchored in the constitution itself, this principle has been further recognized by repeated acts of congress, aimed in all cases at giving it full practical effect. if it is asked why the authors of the constitution gave to congress no plenary power, which might have authorized a grant of copyright in perpetuity, the answer is, that in this, british precedent had a great, if not a controlling influence. copyright in england, by virtue of the statute of anne, passed in (the first british copyright act), was limited to fourteen years, with right of renewal, by a living author, of only fourteen years more; and this was in full force in , when our constitution was framed. prior to the british statute of , authors had only what is called a common law right to their writings; and however good such a right might be, so long as they held them in manuscript, the protection to printed books was extremely uncertain and precarious. it has been held, indeed, that all copyright laws, so far from maintaining an exclusive property right to authors, do in effect deny it (at least in the sense of a natural right), by explicitly limiting the term of exclusive ownership, which might otherwise be held (as in other property) to be perpetual. but there is a radical distinction between the products of the brain, when put in the concrete form of books and multiplied by the art of printing, and the land or other property which is held by common law tenure. society views the absolute or exclusive property in books or inventions as a monopoly. while a monopoly may be justified for a reasonable number of years, on the obvious ground of securing to their originators the pecuniary benefit of their own ideas, a perpetual monopoly is generally regarded as odious and unjust. hence society says to the author or inventor: "put your ideas into material form, and we will guarantee you the exclusive right to multiply and sell your books or your inventions for a term long enough to secure a fair reward to you and to your family; after that period we want your monopoly, with its individual benefits, to cease in favor of the greatest good of all." if this appears unfair to authors, who contribute so greatly to the instruction and the advancement of mankind, it is to be considered that a perpetual copyright would ( ) largely increase the cost of books, which should be most widely diffused for the public benefit, prolonging the enhanced cost indefinitely beyond the author's lifetime; ( ) it would benefit by a special privilege, prolonged without limit, a class of book manufacturers or publishers who act as middle-men between the author and the public, and who own, in most cases, the entire property in the works of authors deceased, and which they did not originate; ( ) it would amount in a few centuries to so vast a sum, taxed upon the community who buy books, that the publishers of shakespeare's works, for example, who under perpetual copyright could alone print the poet's writings, might have reaped colossal fortunes, perhaps unequalled by any private wealth yet amassed in the world. if it is said that copyright, thus limited, is a purely arbitrary right, it may be answered that all legal provisions are arbitrary. that which is an absolute or natural right, so long as held in idea or in manuscript, becomes, when given to the world in multiplied copies, the creature of law. the most that authors can fairly claim is a sufficiently prolonged exclusive right to guarantee them for a lifetime the just reward of their labors, with a reversion for their immediate heirs. that such exclusive rights should run to their remotest posterity, or, _a fortiori_, to mere merchants or artificers who had no hand whatever in the creation of the intellectual work thus protected, would be manifestly unjust. the judicial tribunals, both in england and america, have held that copyright laws do not affirm an existing right, but create a right, with special privileges not before existing, and also with special limitations. the earliest copyright enactment of granted the exclusive privilege of printing his work to the author or his assigns for + , or twenty-eight years in all. the act further required entry of the title, before publication, in the office of the clerk of the united states district court in the state where the author or proprietor resided. this remained the law, with slight amendment, until , when a new copyright act extended the duration of copyright from fourteen to twenty-eight years for the original, or first term, with right of renewal to the author (now first extended to his widow or children, in case of his decease) for fourteen additional years, making forty-two years in all. by the same act the privilege of copyright was extended to cover musical compositions, as it had been earlier extended (in ) to include designs, engravings, and etchings. copyright was further extended in to dramatic compositions, and in to photographs and negatives thereof. in a new copyright code, to take the place of all existing and scattered statutes, was enacted, and there were added to the lawful subjects of copyright, paintings, drawings, chromos, statues, statuary, and models or designs intended to be perfected as works of the fine arts. and finally, by act of march , , the benefits of copyright were extended so as to embrace foreign authors. in , congress created the office of register of copyrights, but continued the copyright office, with its records, in the library of congress. in , the first enactment entitling the library of the united states government to a copy of every work protected by copyright was passed. this act, to establish the smithsonian institution, required that one copy of each copyright publication be deposited therein, and one copy in the library of congress. no penalties were provided, and in , on complaint of the authorities of the smithsonian institution that the law brought in much trash in the shape of articles which were not books, the law was repealed, with the apparent concurrence of those in charge of the congressional library. this left that library without any accessions of copyright books until , when, at the instance of the present writer, the library committee recommended, and congress passed an act restoring the privilege to the library of congress. but it was found to require, in order to its enforcement, frequent visits to the records of the clerks of united states district courts in many cities, with costly transcripts of records in more than thirty other offices, in order to ascertain what books had actually been copyrighted. to this was added the necessity of issuing demands upon delinquent authors or publishers for books not sent to the library; no residence of the delinquents, however, being found in any of the records, which simply recorded those claiming copyright as "of the said district." it resulted that no complete, nor even approximate compliance with the law was secured, and after five years' trial, the librarian was obliged to bring before the committees of congress the plan of a copyright registry at the seat of government, as had been the requirement in the case of patents from the beginning. the law of copyright, as codified by act of july , , made an epoch in the copyright system of the united states. it transferred the entire registry of books and other publications, under copyright law, to the city of washington, and made the librarian of congress sole register of copyrights, instead of the clerks of the district courts of the united states. manifold reasons existed for this radical change, and those which were most influential with congress in making it were the following: . the transfer of the copyright records to washington it was foreseen would concentrate and simplify the business, and this was a cardinal point. prior to there were between forty and fifty separate and distinct authorities for issuing copyrights. the american people were put to much trouble to find out where to apply, in the complicated system of district courts, several of them frequently in a single state, to enter titles for publication. they were required to make entry in the district where the applicant resided, and this was frequently a matter of doubt. moreover, they were required to go to the expense and trouble of transmitting a copy of the work, after publication, to the district clerk, and another copy to the library of congress. were both copies mailed to washington (post-free by law) this duty would be diminished by one-half. . a copyright work is not an invention nor a patent; it is a contribution to literature. it is not material, but intellectual, and has no natural relation to a department which is charged with the care of the mechanic arts; and it belongs rather to a national library system than to any other department of the civil service. the responsibility of caring for it would be an incident to the similar labors already devolved upon the librarian of congress; and the receipts from copyright certificates would much more than pay its expense, thus leaving the treasury the gainer by the change. . the advantage of securing to our national library a complete collection of all american copyright publications can scarcely be over-estimated. if such a law as that enacted in had been enforced since the beginning of the government, we should now have in the library of congress a complete representation of the product of the american mind in every department of science and literature. many publications which are printed in small editions, or which become "out of print" from the many accidents which continually destroy books, would owe to such a library their sole chance of preservation. we ought to have one comprehensive library in the country, and that belonging to the nation, whose aim it should be to preserve the books which other libraries have not the room nor the means to procure. . this consideration assumes additional weight when it is remembered that the library of congress is freely open to the public day and evening throughout the year, and is rapidly becoming the great reference library of the country, resorted to not only by congress and the residents of washington, but by students and writers from all parts of the union, in search of references and authorities not elsewhere to be found. the advantage of having all american publications accessible upon inquiry would be to build up at washington a truly national library, approximately complete and available to all the people. these considerations prevailed with congress to effect the amendment in copyright registration referred to. by enactment of the statute of all the defects in the methods of registration and deposit of copies were obviated. the original records of copyright in all the states were thenceforward kept in the office of the librarian of congress. all questions as to literary property, involving a search of records to determine points of validity, such as priority of entry, names and residence of actual owners, transfers or assignments, timely deposit of the required copies, etc., could be determined upon inquiry at a single office of record. these inquiries are extremely numerous, and obviously very important, involving frequently large interests in valuable publications in which litigation to establish the rights of authors, publishers or infringers has been commenced or threatened. by the full records of copyright entries thus preserved, moreover, the library of congress (which is the property of the nation) has been enabled to secure what was before unattainable, namely, an approximately complete collection of all american books, etc., protected by copyright, since the legislation referred to went into effect. the system has been found in practice to give general satisfaction; the manner of securing copyright has been made plain and easy to all, the office of record being now a matter of public notoriety; and the test of experience during thirty years has established the system so thoroughly that none would be found to favor a return to the former methods. the act of provided for the removal of the collection of copyright books and other publications from the over-crowded patent office to the library of congress. these publications were the accumulations of about eighty years, received from the united states district clerks' offices under the old law. by request of the commissioner of patents all the law books and a large number of technical works were reserved at the department of the interior. the residue, when removed to the capitol, were found to number , volumes, a much smaller number than had been anticipated, in view of the length of time during which the copy tax had been in operation. but the observance of the acts requiring deposits of copyright publications with the clerks of the united states district courts had been very defective (no penalty being provided for non-compliance), and, moreover, the patent office had failed to receive from the offices of original deposit large numbers of publications which should have been sent to washington. from one of the oldest states in the union not a single book had been sent in evidence of copyright. the books, however, which were added to the congressional library, although consisting largely of school books and the minor literature of the last half century, comprised many valuable additions to the collection of american books, which it should be the aim of a national library to render complete. among them were the earliest editions of the works of many well-known writers, now out of print and scarce. the first book ever entered for copyright privileges under the laws of the united states was "the philadelphia spelling book," which was registered in the clerk's office of the district of pennsylvania, june , , by john barry as author. the spelling book was a fit introduction to the long series of books since produced to further the diffusion of knowledge among men. the second book entered was "the american geography," by jedediah morse, entered in the district of massachusetts on july , , a copy of which is preserved in the library of congress. the earliest book entered in the state of new york was on the th of april, , and it was entitled "the young gentleman's and lady's assistant, by donald fraser, schoolmaster." objection has occasionally, though rarely, been made to what is known as the copy-tax, by which two copies of each publication must be deposited in the national library. this requirement rests upon two valid grounds: ( ) the preservation of copies of everything protected by copyright is necessary in the interest of authors and publishers, in evidence of copyright, and in aid of identification in connection with the record of title; ( ) the library of the government (which is that of the whole people) should possess and permanently preserve a complete collection of the products of the american press, so far as secured by copyright. the government makes no unreasonable exaction in saying to authors and publishers: "the nation gives you exclusive right to make and sell your publication, without limit as to quantity, for forty-two years; give the nation in return two copies, one for the use and reference of congress and the public in the national library, the other for preservation in the copyright archives, in perpetual evidence of your right." in view of the valuable monopoly conceded by the public, does not the government in effect give far more than a _quid pro quo_ for the copy-tax? of course it would not be equitable to exact even one copy of publications not secured by copyright, in which case the government gives nothing and gets nothing; but the exaction of actually protected publications, while it is almost unfelt by publishers, is so clearly in the interest of the public intelligence, as well as of authors and publishers themselves, that no valid objection to it appears to exist. in great britain five copies of every book protected by copyright are required for five different libraries, which appears somewhat unreasonable. regarding the right of renewal of the term of copyright, it is a significant fact that it is availed of in comparatively few instances, compared with the whole body of publications. multitudes of books are published which not only never reach a second edition, but the sale of which does not exhaust more than a small part of the copies printed of the first. in these cases the right of renewal is waived and suffered to lapse, from defect of commercial value in the work protected. in many other cases the right of renewal expires before the author or his assigns bethink them of the privilege secured to them under the law. it results that more than nine-tenths, probably, of all books published are free to any one to print, without reward or royalty to their authors, after a very few years have elapsed. on the other hand, the exclusive right in some publications of considerable commercial value is kept alive far beyond the forty-two years included in the original and the renewal term, by entry of new editions of the work, and securing copyright on the same. while this method may not protect any of the original work from republication by others, it enables the publishers of the copyright edition to advertise such unauthorized reprints as imperfect, and without the author's or editor's latest revision or additions. the whole number of entries of copyright in the united states since we became a nation considerably exceeds a million and a half. it may be of interest to give the aggregate number of titles of publications entered for copyright in each year since the transfer of the entire records to washington in . copyrights registered in the united states, - . , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , total, years, , , it will readily be seen that this great number of copyrights does not represent books alone. many thousands of entries are daily and weekly periodicals claiming copyright protection, in which case they are required by law to make entry of every separate issue. these include a multitude of journals, literary, political, scientific, religious, pictorial, technical, commercial, agricultural, sporting, dramatic, etc., among which are a number in foreign languages. these entries also embrace all the leading monthly and quarterly magazines and reviews, with many devoted to specialties--as metaphysics, sociology, law, theology, art, finance, education, and the arts and sciences generally. another large class of copyright entries (and the largest next to books and periodicals) is musical compositions, numbering recently some , publications yearly. much of this property is valuable, and it is nearly all protected by entry of copyright, coming from all parts of the union. there is also a large and constantly increasing number of works of graphic art, comprising engravings, photographs, photogravures, chromos, lithographs, etchings, prints, and drawings, for which copyright is entered. the steady accumulation of hundreds of thousands of these various pictorial illustrations will enable the government at no distant day, without a dollar of expense, to make an exhibit of the progress of the arts of design in america, which will be highly interesting and instructive. an art gallery of ample dimensions for this purpose is provided in the new national library building. it remains to consider briefly the principles and practice of what is known as international copyright. perhaps there is no argument for copyright at all in the productions of the intellect which is not good for its extension to all countries. the basis of copyright is that all useful labor is worthy of a recompense; but since all human thought when put into material or merchantable form becomes, in a certain sense, public property, the laws of all countries recognize and protect the original owners, or their assigns to whom they may convey the right, in an exclusive privilege for limited terms only. literary property therefore is not a natural right, but a conventional one. the author's right to his manuscript is, indeed, absolute, and the law will protect him in it as fully as it will guard any other property. but when once put in type and multiplied through the printing-press, his claim to an exclusive right has to be guarded by a special statute, otherwise it is held to be abandoned (like the articles in a newspaper) to the public. this special protection is furnished in nearly all civilized countries by copyright law. what we call "copyright" is an exclusive right to multiply copies of any publication for sale. domestic copyright, which is all we formerly had in this country, is limited to the united states. international copyright, which has now been enacted, extends the right of american authors to foreign countries, and recognizes a parallel right of foreign authors in our own. there is nothing in the constitutional provision which restrains congress from granting copyright to other than american citizens. patent right, coming under the same clause of the constitution, has been extended to foreigners. out of over , patents annually issued, about , (or per cent.) are issued to foreigners, while american patents are similarly protected abroad. if we have international patent right, why not international copyright? the grant of power is the same; both patent right and copyright are for a limited time; both rights during this time are exclusive; and both rest upon the broad ground of the promotion of science and the useful arts. if copyright is justifiable at all, if authors are to be secured a reward for their labors, they claim that all who use them should contribute equally to this result. the principle of copyright once admitted, it cannot logically be confined to state lines or national boundaries. there appears to be no middle ground between the doctrine of common property in all productions of the intellect--which leads us to communism by the shortest road--and the admission that copyright is due, while its limited term lasts, from all who use the works of an author, wherever found. accordingly, international copyright has become the policy of nearly all civilized nations. the term of copyright is longer in most countries than in the united states, ranging from the life of the author and seven years beyond, in england, to a life term and fifty years additional in france and russia. copyright is thus made a life tenure and something more in all countries except our own, where its utmost limit is forty-two years. this may perhaps be held to represent a fair average lifetime, reckoned from the age of intellectual maturity. there have not been wanting advocates for a perpetual copyright, to run to the author and his heirs and assigns forever. this was urged before the british copyright commission in by leading british publishers, but the term of copyright is hitherto, in all nations, limited by law. only brief allusion can be made to the most recent (and in some respects most important) advance step which has been taken in copyright legislation in the united states. this act of congress is aimed at securing reciprocal protection to american and foreign authors in the respective countries which may comply with its provisions. there is here no room to sketch the hitherto vain attempt to secure to authors, here and abroad, an international protection to their writings. suffice it to say that a union of interests was at last effected, whereby authors, publishers and manufacturers are supposed to have secured some measure of protection to their varied interests. the measure is largely experimental, and the satisfaction felt over its passage into law is tempered by doubt in various quarters as to the justice, or liberality, or actual benefit to authors of its provisions. what is to be said of a statute which was denounced by some senators as a long step backward toward barbarism, and hailed by others as a great landmark in the progress of civilization? the main features added to the existing law of copyright by this act, which took effect july , , are these: . all limitation of the privilege of copyright to citizens and residents of the united states is repealed. . foreigners applying for copyright are to pay fees of $ for record, or $ . for certificate of copyright. . importation of books, photographs, chromos or lithographs entered here for copyright is prohibited, except two copies of any book for use and not for sale. . the two copies of books, photographs, chromos or lithographs deposited with the librarian of congress must be printed from type set, or plates, etc., made in the united states. it follows that all foreign works protected by american copyright must be wholly manufactured in this country. . the copyright privilege is restricted to citizens or subjects of nations permitting the benefit of copyright to americans on substantially the same terms as their own citizens, or of nations who have international agreements providing for reciprocity in the grant of copyright, to which the united states may at its pleasure become a party. . the benefit of copyright in the united states is not to take effect as to any foreigner until the actual existence of either of the conditions just recited, in the case of the nation to which he belongs, shall have been made known by a proclamation of the president of the united states. one very material benefit has been secured through international copyright. under it, authors are assured the control of their own text, both as to correctness and completeness. formerly, republication was conducted on a "scramble" system, by which books were hastened through the press, to secure the earliest market, with little or no regard to a correct re-production. moreover, it was in the power of the american publisher of an english book, or of a british publisher of an american one, to alter or omit passages in any work reprinted, at his pleasure. this license was formerly exercised, and imperfect, garbled, or truncated editions of an author's writings were issued without his consent, an outrage against which international copyright furnishes the only preventive. another benefit of copyright between nations has been to check the relentless flood of cheap, unpaid-for fiction, which formerly poured from the press, submerging the better literature. the seaside and other libraries, with their miserable type, flimsy paper, and ugly form, were an injury alike to the eyesight, to the taste, and in many cases, to the morals of the community. more than ninety per cent. of these wretched "libraries" were foreign novels. an avalanche of english and translated french novels of the "bigamy school" of fiction swept over the land, until the cut-throat competition of publishers, after exhausting the stock of unwholesome foreign literature, led to the failure of many houses, and piled high the counters of book and other stores with bankrupt stock. having at last got rid of this unclean brood, (it is hoped forever) we now have better books, produced on good paper and type, and worth preserving, at prices not much above those of the trash formerly offered us. at the same time, standard works of science and literature are being published in england at prices which tend steadily toward increased popular circulation. even conservative publishers are reversing the rule of small editions at high prices, for larger editions at low prices. the old three-volume novel is nearly supplanted by the one volume, well-printed and bound book at five or six shillings. many more reductions would follow in the higher class of books, were not the measure of reciprocal copyright thus far secured handicapped by the necessity of re-printing on this side at double cost, if a large american circulation is in view. the writers of america, with the steady and rapid progress of the art of making books, have come more and more to appreciate the value of their preservation, in complete and unbroken series, in the library of the government, the appropriate conservator of the nation's literature. inclusive and not exclusive, as this library is wisely made by law, so far as copyright works are concerned, it preserves with impartial care the illustrious and the obscure. in its archives all sciences and all schools of opinion stand on equal ground. in the beautiful and ample repository, now erected and dedicated to literature and art through the liberal action of congress, the intellectual wealth of the past and the present age will be handed down to the ages that are to follow. footnotes: [ ] g. h. putnam, "books and their makers in the middle ages," n. y. , vol. , p. . chapter . poetry of the library. the librarian's dream. . he sat at night by his lonely bed, with an open book before him; and slowly nodded his weary head, as slumber came stealing o'er him. . and he saw in his dream a mighty host of the writers gone before, and the shadowy form of many a ghost glided in at the open door. . great homer came first in a snow-white shroud, and virgil sang sweet by his side; while cicero thundered in accents loud, and caesar most gravely replied. . anacreon, too, from his rhythmical lips the honey of hybla distilled, and herodotus suffered a partial eclipse, while horace with music was filled. . the procession of ancients was brilliant and long, aristotle and plato were there, thucydides, too, and tacitus strong, and plutarch, and sappho the fair. . aristophanes elbowed gay ovid's white ghost, and euripides xenophon led, while propertius laughed loud at juvenal's jokes, and sophocles rose from the dead. . then followed a throng to memory dear, of writers more modern in age, cervantes and shakespeare, who died the same year, and chaucer, and bacon the sage. . immortal the laurels that decked the fair throng, and dante moved by with his lyre, while montaigne and pascal stood rapt by his song, and boccaccio paused to admire. . sweet spenser and calderon moved arm in arm, while milton and sidney were there, pope, dryden, and molière added their charm, and bunyan, and marlowe so rare. . then gibbon stalked by in classical guise, and hume, and macaulay, and froude, while darwin, and huxley, and tyndall looked wise, and humboldt and comte near them stood. . dean swift looked sardonic on addison's face, and johnson tipped boswell a wink, walter scott and jane austen hobnobbed o'er a glass, and goethe himself deigned to drink. . robert burns followed next with thomas carlyle, jean paul paired with coleridge, too, while de foe elbowed goldsmith, the master of style, and fielding and schiller made two. . rousseau with his eloquent, marvellous style, and voltaire, with his keen, witty pen, victor hugo so grand, though repellent the while, and dumas and balzac again. . dear thackeray came in his happiest mood, and stayed until midnight was done, bulwer-lytton, and reade, and kingsley and hood, and dickens, the master of fun. . george eliot, too, with her matter-full page, and byron, and browning, and keats, while shelley and tennyson joined youth and age, and wordsworth the circle completes. . then followed a group of america's best, with irving, and bryant, and holmes, while bancroft and motley unite with the rest, and thoreau with whittier comes. . with his raven in hand dreamed on edgar poe, and longfellow sweet and serene, while prescott, and ticknor, and emerson too, and hawthorne and lowell were seen. . while thus the assembly of witty and wise rejoiced the librarian's sight, ere the wonderful vision had fled from his eyes, from above shone a heavenly light: . and solemn and sweet came a voice from the skies, "all battles and conflicts are done, the temple of knowledge shall open all eyes, and law, faith, and reason are one!" when the radiant dawn of the morning broke, from his glorious dream the librarian woke. * * * * * the library. that place that does contain my books, my books, the best companions, is to me, a glorious court, where hourly i converse with the old sages and philosophers; and sometimes, for variety i confer with kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels. beaumont and fletcher. * * * * * the bard of every age and clime, of genius fruitful and of soul sublime, who from the glowing mint of fancy pours no spurious metal, fused from common ores, but gold to matchless purity refined, and stamped with all the godhead in his mind. juvenal. * * * * * books, we know, are a substantial world, both pure and good; round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, our pastime and our happiness will grow. wordsworth. * * * * * quaint lines on a book-worm. the bokeworme sitteth in his celle, he studyethe all alone, and burnethe oute the oile, 'till ye midnight hour is gone then gethe he downe upon his bedde, ne mo watch will he a-keepe, he layethe his heade on ye pillowe, and eke he tryes to sleepe. then swyfte there cometh a vision grimme, and greetythe him sleepynge fair, and straighte he dreameth of grislie dreames, and dreades fellowne and rayre. wherefore, if cravest life to eld ne rede longe uppe at night, but go to bed at curfew bell and ryse wythe mornynge's lyte. * * * * * ballade of the book-hunter. in torrid heats of late july, in march, beneath the bitter _bise_, he book-hunts while the loungers fly,-- he book-hunts, though december freeze; in breeches baggy at the knees, and heedless of the public jeers, for these, for these, he hoards his fees,-- aldines, bodonis, elzevirs. no dismal stall escapes his eye, he turns o'er tomes of low degrees, there soiled romanticists may lie, or restoration comedies; each tract that flutters in the breeze for him is charged with hopes and fears, in mouldy novels fancy sees aldines, bodonis, elzevirs. with restless eyes that peer and spy, sad eyes that heed not skies nor trees, in dismal nooks he loves to pry, whose motto evermore is _spes_! but ah! the fabled treasure flees; grown rarer with the fleeting years, in rich men's shelves they take their ease,-- aldines, bodonis, elzevirs! prince, all the things that tease and please,-- fame, hope, wealth, kisses, jeers and tears, what are they but such toys as these-- aldines, bodonis, elzevirs? andrew lang. * * * * * 'tis in books the chief of all perfections to be plain and brief. samuel butler. of all those arts in which the wise excel, nature's chief master-piece is writing well. buckingham. books should to one of these four ends conduce: for wisdom, piety, delight, or use. sir john denham. * * * * * my books. oh, happy he who, weary of the sound of throbbing life, can shut his study door, like heinsius, on it all, to find a store of peace that otherwise is never found! such happiness is mine, when all around my dear dumb friends in groups of three or four command my soul to linger on the shore of those fair realms where they reign monarchs crowned. to-day the strivings of the world are naught, for i am in a land that glows with god, and i am in a path by angels trod. dost ask what book creates such heavenly thought? then know that i with dante soar afar, till earth shrinks slowly to a tiny star. j. williams. * * * * * thoughts in a library. speak low! tread softly through these halls; here genius lives enshrined; here reign in silent majesty the monarchs of the mind. a mighty spirit host they come from every age and clime; above the buried wrecks of years they breast the tide of time. here shall the poets chant for thee their sweetest, loftiest lays, and prophets wait to guide thy steps in wisdom's pleasant ways. come, with these god-anointed kings be thou companion here; and in the mighty realm of mind thou shalt go forth a peer! anne c. lynch botta. * * * * * verses in a library. give me that book whose power is such that i forget the north wind's touch. give me that book that brings to me forgetfulness of what i be. give me that book that takes my life in seeming far from all its strife. give me that book wherein each page destroys my sense of creeping age. john kendrick bangs. * * * * * a book by the brook. give me a nook and a book, and let the proud world spin round; let it scramble by hook or by crook for wealth or a name with a sound. you are welcome to amble your ways, aspirers to place or to glory; may big bells jangle your praise, and golden pens blazon your story; for me, let me dwell in my nook, here by the curve of this brook, that croons to the tune of my book: whose melody wafts me forever on the waves of an unseen river. william freeland. the love of learning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books. h. w. longfellow. oh for a booke and a shady nooke eyther in door or out, with the greene leaves whispering overhead, or the streete cryes all about: where i maie reade all at my ease both of the newe and olde, for a jollie goode booke whereon to looke is better to me than golde! * * * * * to daniel elzevir. (_from the latin of ménage._) what do i see! oh! gods divine and goddesses--this book of mine-- this child of many hopes and fears, is published by the elzevirs! oh perfect publishers complete! oh dainty volume, new and neat! the paper doth outshine the snow, the print is blacker than the crow, the title-page, with crimson bright, the vellum cover smooth and white, all sorts of readers to invite; ay, and will keep them reading still, against their will, or with their will! thus what of grace the rhymes may lack the publisher has given them back, as milliners adorn the fair whose charms are something skimp and spare. oh dulce decus, elzevirs! the pride of dead and dawning years, how can a poet best repay the debt he owes your house to-day? may this round world, while aught endures, applaud, and buy, these books of yours. may purchasers incessant pop, my elzevirs, within your shop, and learned bards salute, with cheers, the volumes of the elzevirs, till your renown fills earth and sky, till men forget the stephani, and all that aldus wrought, and all turnebus sold in shop or stall, while still may fate's (and binders') shears respect, and spare, the elzevirs! * * * * * blessings be with them, and eternal praise, who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares! the poets, who on earth have made us heirs of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays. wordsworth. * * * * * companions. but books, old friends that are always new, of all good things that we know are best; they never forsake us, as others do, and never disturb our inward rest. here is truth in a world of lies, and all that in man is great and wise! better than men and women, friend, that are dust, though dear in our joy and pain, are the books their cunning hands have penned, for they depart, but the books remain. richard henry stoddard. * * * * * the paradox of books. i'm strange contradictions; i'm new and i'm old, i'm often in tatters, and oft decked with gold. though i never could read, yet lettered i'm found; though blind, i enlighten; though loose, i am bound. i'm always in black, and i'm always in white; i am grave and i'm gay, i am heavy and light. in form too i differ,--i'm thick and i'm thin; i've no flesh and no bone, yet i'm covered with skin; i've more points than the compass, more stops than the flute; i sing without voice, without speaking confute; i'm english, i'm german, i'm french, and i'm dutch; some love me too fondly, some slight me too much; i often die soon, though i sometimes live ages, and no monarch alive has so many pages. hannah more. * * * * * i love my books as drinkers love their wine; the more i drink, the more they seem divine; with joy elate my soul in love runs o'er, and each fresh draught is sweeter than before: books bring me friends where'er on earth i be,-- solace of solitude, bonds of society. i love my books! they are companions dear, sterling in worth, in friendship most sincere; here talk i with the wise in ages gone, and with the nobly gifted in our own: if love, joy, laughter, sorrow please my mind, love, joy, grief, laughter in my books i find. francis bennoch. * * * * * my library. all round the room my silent servants wait,-- my friends in every season, bright and dim angels and seraphim come down and murmur to me, sweet and low, and spirits of the skies all come and go early and late; from the old world's divine and distant date, from the sublimer few, down to the poet who but yester-eve sang sweet and made us grieve, all come, assembling here in order due. and here i dwell with poesy, my mate, with erato and all her vernal sighs, great clio with her victories elate, or pale urania's deep and starry eyes. oh friends, whom chance or change can never harm, whom death the tyrant cannot doom to die, within whose folding soft eternal charm i love to lie, and meditate upon your verse that flows, and fertilizes wheresoe'er it goes. bryan waller procter. * * * * * rational madness. _a song, for the lover of curious and rare books._ come, boys, fill your glasses, and fill to the brim, here's the essence of humor, the soul, too, of whim! attend and receive (and sure 'tis no vapour) a "hap' worth of wit on a pennyworth of paper." those joys which the bibliomania affords are felt and acknowledged by dukes and by lords! and the finest estate would be offer'd in vain for an exemplar bound by the famed roger payne! to a proverb goes madness with love hand in hand, but our senses we yield to a double command; the dear frenzy in both is first rous'd by fair looks,-- here's our sweethearts, my boys! not forgetting our books! thus our time may we pass with rare books and rare friends, growing wiser and better, till life itself ends: and may those who delight not in black-letter lore, by some obsolete act be sent from our shore! * * * * * ballade of true wisdom. while others are asking for beauty or fame, or praying to know that for which they should pray, or courting queen venus, that affable dame, or chasing the muses the weary and grey, the sage has found out a more excellent way-- to pan and to pallas his incense he showers, and his humble petition puts up day by day, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. inventors may bow to the god that is lame, and crave from the fire on his stithy a ray; philosophers kneel to the god without name, like the people of athens, agnostics are they; the hunter a fawn to diana will slay, the maiden wild roses will wreathe for the hours; but the wise man will ask, ere libation he pay, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. oh grant me a life without pleasure or blame (as mortals count pleasure who rush through their day with a speed to which that of the tempest is tame) o grant me a house by the beach of a bay, where the waves can be surly in winter, and play with the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers! and i'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. envoy. gods, grant or withhold it; your "yea" and your "nay" are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours: but life is worth living, and here we would stay for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. andrew lang. * * * * * the library. they soothe the grieved, the stubborn they chastise, fools they admonish, and confirm the wise: their aid they yield to all: they never shun the man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone: unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud, they fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd; nor tell to various people various things, but show to subjects, what they show to kings. blest be the gracious power, who taught mankind to stamp a lasting image of the mind! with awe, around these silent walks i tread; these are the lasting mansions of the dead:-- "the dead!" methinks a thousand tongues reply; "these are the tombs of such as cannot die! crown'd with eternal fame, they sit sublime, and laugh at all the little strife of time." lo, all in silence, all in order stand, and mighty folios first, a lordly band; then quartos their well-order'd ranks maintain, and light octavos fill a spacious plain: see yonder, rangèd in more frequent rows, a humbler band of duodecimos; while undistinguished trifles swell the scene, the last new play and fritter'd magazine. here all the rage of controversy ends, and rival zealots rest like bosom friends: an athanasian here, in deep repose, sleeps with the fiercest of his arian foes; socinians here with calvinists abide, and thin partitions angry chiefs divide; here wily jesuits simple quakers meet, and bellarmine has rest at luther's feet. george crabbe. * * * * * eternity of poetry. for deeds doe die, however noblie donne, and thoughts do as themselves decay; but wise words, taught in numbers for to runne recorded by the muses, live for ay; ne may with storming showers be washt away, ne bitter breathing windes with harmful blast, nor age, nor envie, shall them ever wast. spenser. * * * * * the old books. the old books, the old books, the books of long ago! who ever felt miss austen tame, or called sir walter slow? we did not care the worst to hear of human sty or den; we liked to love a little bit, and trust our fellow-men. the old books, the old books, as pure as summer breeze! we read them under garden boughs, by fire-light on our knees, they did not teach, they did not preach, or scold us into good; a noble spirit from them breathed, the rest was understood. the old books, the old books, the mother loves them best; they leave no bitter taste behind to haunt the youthful breast: they bid us hope, they bid us fill our hearts with visions fair; they do not paralyze the will with problems of despair. and as they lift from sloth and sense to follow loftier planes, and stir the blood of indolence to bubble in the veins: inheritors of mighty things, who own a lineage high, we feel within us budding wings that long to reach the sky: to rise above the commonplace, and through the cloud to soar, and join the loftier company of grander souls of yore. the spectator. chapter . humors of the library.[ ] some thoughts on classification. _by librarian f. m. crunden._ classification is vexation, shelf-numbering is as bad; the rule of d doth puzzle me; mnemonics drives me mad. _air--the lord chancellor's song._ when first i became a librarian, says i to myself, says i, i'll learn all their systems as fast as i can, says i to myself, says i; the cutter, the dewey, the schwartz, and the poole, the alphabet, numeral, mnemonic rule, the old, and the new, and the eclectic school, says i to myself, says i. class-numbers, shelf-numbers, book-numbers, too, says i to myself, says i, i'll study them all, and i'll learn them clear thro', says i to myself, says i; i'll find what is good, and what's better and best, and i'll put two or three to a practical test; and then--if i've time--i'll take a short rest, says i to myself, says i. but art it is long and time it doth fly, says i to myself, says i, and three or four years have already passed by, says i to myself, says i; and yet on those systems i'm not at all clear, while new combinations forever appear, to master them all is a life-work, i fear, says i to myself, says i. * * * * * classification in a library in western new york: gail hamilton's "woolgathering," under agriculture. * * * * * book asked for. "an attack philosopher in paris." a changed title. a young woman went into a library the other day and asked for the novel entitled "she combeth not her head," but she finally concluded to take "he cometh not, she said." * * * * * labor-saving devices. the economical catalogue-maker who thus set down two titles-- "mill on the floss, do. political economy." has a sister who keeps a universal scrap-book into which everything goes, but which is carefully indexed. she, too, has a mind for saving, as witness: "patti, adelina. do. oyster." * * * * * from a new york auction catalogue: " . junius stat nominis umbrii, with numerous splendid portraits." * * * * * at the new york free circulating library, a youth of twenty said shakespeare made him tired. "why couldn't he write english instead of indulging in that _thee_ and _thou_ business?" miss braddon he pronounced "a daisy". a pretty little blue-eyed fellow "liked american history best of all," but found the first volume of justin winsor's history too much for him. "the french and german and hebrew in it are all right, but there's spanish and italian and latin, and i don't know those." * * * * * a gentleman in paris sent to the bookbinder two volumes of the french edition of "uncle tom's cabin." the title in french is "l'oncle tom," and the two volumes were returned to him marked on their backs: l'oncle, l'oncle, tome i. tome ii. * * * * * how a bibliomaniac binds his books. i'd like my favorite books to bind so that their outward dress to every bibliomaniac's mind their contents should express. napoleon's life should glare in red, john calvin's life in blue; thus they would typify bloodshed and sour religion's hue. the popes in scarlet well may go; in jealous green, othello; in gray, old age of cicero, and london cries in yellow. my walton should his gentle art in salmon best express, and penn and fox the friendly heart in quiet drab confess. crimea's warlike facts and dates of fragrant russia smell; the subjugated barbary states in crushed morocco dwell. but oh! that one i hold so dear should be arrayed so cheap gives me a qualm; i sadly fear my lamb must be half-sheep! irving browne. * * * * * in a wisconsin library, a young lady asked for the "life of national harthorne" and the "autograph on the breakfast table." * * * * * "have you a poem on the victor of manengo, by anon?" * * * * * library inquiry--"i want the catalogue of temporary literature." query--what did she want? a friend proposes to put owen's "footfalls on the boundaries of another world" in travels. shall we let him? * * * * * a poet, in boston, filled out an application for a volume of pope's works, an edition reserved from circulation, in the following tuneful manner: "you ask me, dear sir, to a reason define why you should for a fortnight this volume resign to my care.--_i am also a son of the nine._" * * * * * a worthy deutscher, confident in his mastery of the english tongue, sent the following quaint document across the sea: "i send you with the post six numbers, of our allgemeine militär-zeitung, which is published in the next year to the fifty times. excuse my bath english i learned in the school and i forgot so much. if you have interest to german antiquariatskataloge i will send to you some. i remain however yours truly servant." * * * * * a gentlemanly stranger once asked the delivery clerk for "a genealogy." "what one?" she asked. "oh! any," he said. "well--savage's?" "no; white men." * * * * * said melvil dewey: "to my thinking, a great librarian must have a clear head, a strong hand, and, above all, a great heart. such shall be greatest among librarians; and, when i look into the future, i am inclined to think that most of the men who will achieve this greatness will be women." * * * * * a library hymn. _by an assistant librarian._ i have endeavored to clothe the dull prose of the usual library rules with the mantle of poetry, that they may be more attractive, and more easily remembered by the great public whom we serve. gently, reader, gently moving, wipe your feet beside the door; hush your voice to whispers soothing, take your hat off, i implore! mark your number, plainly, rightly, from the catalogue you see; with the card projecting slightly, then your book bring unto me. quickly working, with no shirking, soon another there will be. if above two weeks you've left me, just two cents a day i'll take, and, unless my mind's bereft me, payment you must straightway make. treat your books as if to-morrow, gabriel's trump would surely sound, and all scribbling, to your sorrow, 'gainst your credit would be found. therefore tear not, spot and wear not all these books so neatly bound. these few simple rules abiding, we shall always on you smile: there will be no room for chiding, no one's temper will you rile. and when heaven's golden portals for you on their hinges turn, with the books for all immortals, there will be no rules to learn. therefore heed them, often read them, lest your future weal you spurn. * * * * * titles of books asked for by written slips in a popular library. aristopholus translated by buckley. alfreri tragedus. bertall lavie hors de ches soi. cooke m. c. m. a. l. l. d. their nature and uses. edited by rev. j. m. berkeley m. a. f. r. s. (fungi.) caralus note book (a cavalier's). gobden club-essays. specie the origin of darwin. an epistropal prayer book. * * * * * blunders in cataloguing. gasparin. the uprising of a great many people. hughes, tom. the scouring of the white house. mayhew. the pheasant boy. wind in the lower animals (mind.) * * * * * recent calls for books at a western library. account of monte cristo. acrost the kontinent by boles. bula. count of corpus cristy. dant's infernal comedy. darwin's descent on man. feminine cooper's works. infeleese. less miserable. some of macbeth's writings. something in the way of friction. squeal to a book. * * * * * in vol. of laporte's "bibliographie contemporaine," dibdin's famous book is entered thus: "bibliomania, or boock, madnss: a bibliographical romance...ilustrated with cats." * * * * * a well-known librarian writes: "the catalogue of the indiana state library for the year has long been my wonder and admiration. "bank's history of the popes" appears under the letter b. strong in the historical department, it offers a choice between the "life of john tyler, by harper & brothers," "memoirs of moses henderson, by jewish philosophers," "memoirs and correspondence of viscount castlereach, by the marquis of londonderry," and "memoirs of benvenuto, by gellini." in fiction, you may find "tales of my landlord by cleishbotham," and "the pilot, by the author of the pioneers;" while, if your passion for plural authorship is otherwise unappeasable--if beaumont and fletcher or erckman-chatrian seem to you too feeble a combination of talents--you may well be captivated by the title "small arms, by the united states army." "the state of indiana has undoubtedly learned a good many things since ; but whosoever its present librarian may be, it is hardly probable that its highest flight in bibliography has surpassed the catalogue from which the above are quoted." * * * * * books demanded at a certain public library: "the stuck-up minister"--(stickit minister.) "from jessie to ernest" (jest to earnest). * * * * * a country order for books called for "the thrown of david," "echo of hummo" (ecce homo) and "echo of deas" (ecce deus). * * * * * the nation mentions as an instance of "the havoc which types can make with the titles of books, that a single catalogue gives us 'clara reeve's old english barn,' 'swinburne's century of scoundrels,' and 'una and her papuse.' but this is outdone by the bookseller who offered for sale "balvatzky, mrs. izis unveiled." another goddess is offended in "transits of venice, by r. a. proctor." * * * * * in a certain city, an examination of applicants for employment in the public library was held. the following is an exact copy of the answer to a question, asking for the title of a work written by each of the authors named: "john ruskin, 'the bread winners;' william h. prescott, 'the frozen pirate;' charles darwin, 'the missing link;' thomas carlyle, 'caesar's column.'" the same man is responsible for saying that "b. c." stands for the creation, and "a. d." for the deluge. who wants this bright young man? * * * * * a story about stories. "when a man's single," all "vanity fair" courts his favor and smiles, and feminine "moths" "in silk attire" try on him "a woman's wiles." "the world, the flesh and the devil" were "wormwood" and gall to me, weary and sick of "the passing show," no "woman's face" was "fair to see." i fled away to "the mill on the floss" "two years ago," "in an evil hour," for "the miller's daughter" there i met, who "cometh up as a flower." she was a simple "rose in june," and i was "an average man;" "we two" were "far from the madding crowd" when our "love and life" began. it was but "a modern instance" of true "love's random shot," and i, "the heir of redclyffe" was "kidnapped": and "why not"? we cannot escape the hand of "fate," and few are "fated to be free," but beware of "a social departure"-- you'll live "under the ban," like me. i tried to force the "gates ajar" for my "queen of curds and cream," but "the pillars of society" shook with horror at my "dream." i am no more "a happy man," though blessed with "heavenly twins," because "the wicked world" maintains "a low marriage" the worst of sins. "pride and prejudice" rule the world, "a marriage for love" is "a capital crime," beware of "a country neighborhood" and shun "mad love" in time. * * * * * says the nation: a philadelphia catalogue, whose compiler must have been more interested in current events than in his task, offers for sale "intrigues of the queen of spain with mckinley, the prince of peace, boston, ." how godoy should become mckinley, or mckinley should become the prince of peace, is a problem for psychologists. * * * * * confusion of knowledge. the following are some specimens of answers to examinations of candidates for library employment, given within the past five years: "a sonnet is a poem which is adapted to music, as petrarch's sonnets"; "a sonnet is a short poem sometimes and sometimes a long one and generally a reflection, or thoughts upon some inanimate thing, as young's 'night thoughts.'" "an epic is a critical writing, as 'criticism on man'"; "an epic is a literary form written in verse, and which teaches us some lesson not necessarily of a moral nature"; "an epic is a dramatic poem." epigrammatic writing is very clearly defined as "critical in a grammatical way." "allegory is writing highly colored, as pope's works"; "allegory is writing of something that never happened, but it is purely imaginary, often a wandering from the main point." a common mistake regarding the meaning of the word bibliography results in such answers as "bibliography--a study of the bible;" or "gives the lives of the people in the bible." an encyclopaedia was aptly defined as "a storehouse of knowledge for the enlightenment of the public," while another answer reads "book of books, giving the life of famous persons, life and habits of animals and plants, and some medical knowledge." a collection of works of any author is termed "an anthropology." "anthology is the study of insects." folklore is defined as "giving to animals and things human sense"; an elegy means "a eulogy," oratory, "the deliverance of words." belles-lettres is to one applicant "beautiful ideas," to another "the title of a book," to another "short stories"; again "are the letters of french writers," and still another writes "french for prominent literature and light literature." a concordance "is the explication or definition of something told in a simpler form," is the extremely lucid answer to one question, which was answered by another candidate as "a table of reference at back of book." the titles of books are too seldom associated with their authors' names, resulting in such answers as "homer is the author of the aeneid"; "lalla rookh" was written by james blackmore; "children of the abbey," by walter besant (while another attributed it to jane porter); "bow of orange ribbon," by george meredith; "hon. peter stirling," by fielding; "quo vadis," by browning; "pamela," by frank stockton (according to another by marie edgworth); "love's labour's lost," by bryant (another gives thomas reade as the author, while still another guesses schiller); "descent of man," by alexander pope (another gives dryden); "the essay on man," by francis bacon. one candidate believes "hudibras" to be an early saxon poem; another that "victor hugo's best known work is william tell"; another that "aesop's fables is a famous allegory." charlotte brontë is described as an "american--nineteenth century--children's book." cicero was "known for latin poetry." "dante is an exceedingly bitter writer; he takes you into hell and describes satan and his angels. he wrote his play for the stage." another's idea of the divine comedy is "a play which could be acted by the priests on the steps of a church for the benefit of the poorer class." civil service in the mind of one young woman was "the service done by the government in a country, domesticly." a christian socialist is "an advocate of christian science." "a limited monarchy is a kingdom whose ruler is under the ruler of another country." legal tender is "the legal rate of interest"; another considers it "paper money." in economics, some of the answers were "profit-sharing, a term used in socialism, the rich to divide among the poor." "monopolies is the money gained by selling church properties"; while "a trust is usually a place where a person puts some money where it will be safe to keep it." about noted personages and historic events and places the answers are equally startling. "molière was a french essayist and critic" (also "a french writer of the nineteenth century,") cecil rhodes, "the founder of bryn mawr college"; "seth low--england, eighteenth century;" attila "a woman mentioned in the bible for her great cruelty to her child;" warren hastings "was a german soldier" (also "was a discoverer; died about "); "nero was a roman emperor b. c. ." perhaps the most unique guess in this line was "richard wagner invented the wagner cars;" abbotsford is "the title of a book by sir walter scott;" "vassar college is a dream, high-up and unattainable;" "tammany hall is a political meeting place in london;" "the parthenon, an art gallery in athens." pedagogy seemed one of the most perplexing of words. it was defined by one as "the science of religion," by another as "learned pomposity;" but the most remarkable of all was "pedagogy is the study of feet." * * * * * song of some library school scholars. three little maids from school are we, filled to the brim with economy-- not of the house but library, learnt in the library school. _ st maid_--i range my books from number one. _ nd maid_--alphabetically i've begun. _ rd maid_--in regular classes mine do run. _all_--three maids from the library school. _all_--three little maidens all unwary, each in charge of a library, each with a system quite contrary to every other school. our catalogues, we quite agree, from faults and errors must be free, if only we our way can see to find the proper rule. * * * * * boy's remark on returning a certain juvenile book to the library: "i don't want any more of them books. the girls is all too holy." * * * * * "half the books in this library are not worth reading," said a sour-visaged, hypercritical, novel-satiated woman.--"read the other half, then," advised a bystander. * * * * * the woes of a librarian. let us give a brief rehearsal of the learning universal, which men expect to find in librarians to their mind. he must undergo probation, before he gets a situation; must begin at the creation, when the world was in formation, and come down to its cremation, in the final consummation of the old world's final spasm: he must study protoplasm, and bridge over every chasm in the origin of species, ere the monkey wore the breeches, or the simian tribe began to ascend from ape to man. he must master the cosmology, and know all about psychology, and the wonders of biology, and be deep in ornithology, and develop ideology, with the aid of craniology. he must learn to teach zoölogy, and be skilled in etymology, and the science of philology, and calculate chronology, while he digs into geology, and treats of entomology, and hunts up old mythology, and dips into theology, and grows wise in sociology, and expert in anthropology. he must also know geography, and the best works on photography, and the science of stenography, and be well up on cosmography, and the secrets of cryptography. must interpret blind chirography, know by heart all mens' biography, and the black art of typography, and every book in bibliography. these things are all essential and highly consequential. if he's haunted by ambition for a library position, and esteems it a high mission, to aspire to erudition; he will find some politician of an envious disposition, getting up a coalition to secure his non-admission, and send him to perdition, before he's reached fruition. if he gets the situation, and is full of proud elation and of fond anticipation, and has in contemplation to enlighten half the nation, he may write a dissertation for the public information on the laws of observation, and the art of conversation. he must know each famed oration, and poetical quotation, and master derivation, and the science of translation, and complex pagination, and perfect punctuation, and binomial equation, and accurate computation, and boundless permutation, and infinite gradation, and the craft of divination, and scripture revelation, and the secret of salvation. he must know the population of every separate nation, the amount of immigration, and be wise in arbitration, and the art of navigation, and colonial annexation, and problems australasian. he must take his daily ration of catalogue vexation, and endless botheration with ceaseless complication of decimal notation, or cutter combination. to complete his education, he must know the valuation of all the publications of many generations, with their endless variations, and true interpretations. when he's spent a life in learning, if his lamp continues burning, when he's mastered all philosophy, and the science of theosophy, grown as learned as mezzofanti, as poetical as dante, as wise as magliabecchi, as profound as mr. lecky-- has absorbed more kinds of knowledge than are found in any college; he may take his full degree of ph. or ll. d. and prepare to pass the portal that leads to life immortal. footnotes: [ ] mostly from the library journal, new york. chapter . rare books. there is perhaps no field of inquiry concerning literature in which so large an amount of actual mis-information or of ignorance exists as that of the rarity of many books. the makers of second-hand catalogues are responsible for much of this, in describing the books which they wish to sell as "rare," "very scarce," etc., but more of it proceeds from absolute ignorance of the book-markets of the world. i have had multitudes of volumes offered for sale whose commercial value was hardly as many cents as was demanded in dollars by their ill-informed owners, who fancied the commonest book valuable because they "had never seen another copy." no one's ideas of the money value of any book are worth anything, unless he has had long experimental knowledge of the market for books both in america and in europe. what constitutes rarity in books is a question that involves many particulars. thus, a given book may be rare in the united states which is abundant in london; or rare in london, when common enough in germany. so books may be rare in one age which were easily found in another: and again, books on certain subjects may be so absorbed by public demand when events excite interest in that subject, as to take up most of the copies in market, and enhance the price of the remainder. thus, napoleon's conquering career in egypt created a great demand for all books on egypt and africa. the scheme for founding a great french colony in louisiana raised the price of all books and pamphlets on that region, which soon after fell into the possession of the united states. president lincoln's assassination caused a demand for all accounts of the murder of the heads of nations. latterly, all books on cuba, the west indies, and the philippines have been in unprecedented demand, and dealers have raised the prices, which will again decline after the recent public interest in them has been supplanted by future events. there is a broad distinction to be drawn between books which are absolutely rare, and those which are only relatively scarce, or which become temporarily rare, as just explained. thus, a large share of the books published in the infancy of printing are _rare_; nearly all which appeared in the quarter century after printing began are _very_ rare; and several among these last are _superlatively_ rare. i may instance the mazarin bible of gutenberg and schoeffer ( ?) of which only twenty-four copies are known, nearly all in public libraries, where they ought to be; the mentz psalter of the same printers, , the first book ever printed with a date; and the first edition of livy, rome [ ] the only copy of which printed on vellum is in the british museum library. one reason of the scarcity of books emanating from the presses of the fifteenth century is that of many of them the editions consisted of only two hundred to three hundred copies, of which the large number absorbed in public libraries, or destroyed by use, fire or decay, left very few in the hands of booksellers or private persons. still, it is a great mistake to infer that all books printed before a. d. are rare. the editions of many were large, especially after about , many were reprinted in several editions, and of such incunabula copies can even now be picked up on the continent at very low prices. contrary to a wide-spread belief, mere age adds very little to the value of any book, and oft-times nothing at all. all librarians are pestered to buy "hundred year old" treatises on theology or philosophy, as dry as the desert of sahara, on the ground that they are both old and rare, whereas such books, two hundred and even three hundred years old, swarm in unsalable masses on the shelves of london and provincial booksellers at a few pence per volume. the reason that they are comparatively rare in this country is that nobody wants them, and so they do not get imported. a rare book is, strictly speaking, only one which is found with difficulty, taking into view all the principal book markets of various countries. very few books printed since have any peculiar value on account of their age. of many books, both old and new, the reason of scarcity is that only a few copies actually remain, outside of public libraries, and these last, of course, are not for sale. this scarcity of copies is produced by a great variety of causes, most of which are here noted. ( ) the small number of the books originally printed leads to rarity. this is by no means peculiar to early impressions of the press: on the contrary, of some books printed only last year not one tenth as many exist as of a multitude of books printed four centuries ago. not only privately printed books, not designed for publication, but some family or personal memoirs, or original works circulated only among friends, and many other publications belong to this class of rarities. the books printed at private presses are mostly rare. horace walpole's strawberry hill press produced some thirty works from to , in editions varying from fifty to six hundred copies. the lee priory press of sir e. brydges printed many literary curiosities, none of which had more than one hundred impressions. most of the editions of the shakespearean and other critical essays of j. o. halliwell-phillipps were limited to forty copies, or even less. the genealogical and heraldic imprints of sir thomas phillipps, at the middle hill press, - , numbering some hundreds of different works, were mostly confined to twenty copies each, and some to only six copies. some of them are as rare as many manuscripts, of which several copies have been made, and sell at prices dictated by their scarcity. most of them are in the library of congress. the kelmscott press of william morris printed in sumptuous style, improved upon the finest models of antique typography, a number of literary works, which now bring enhanced prices. of the many historical and literary publications of the roxburghe club, the percy society, the maitland, the abbotsford, and the bannatyne clubs abroad, only thirty to one hundred copies were printed. of those of the prince society, the grolier club, and others in america, only from to copies were printed, being for subscribers only. rarity and enhanced prices necessarily result in all these cases. of some books, only five to ten copies have been printed, or else, out of fifty or more printed, all but a very few have been ruthlessly destroyed, in order to give a fanciful value to the remainder. in these extreme instances, the rarity commonly constitutes almost the sole value of the work. ( ) even where many copies have been printed, the destruction of the greater part of the edition has rendered the book very rare. printing offices and book binderies are peculiarly subject to fires, and many editions have thus been consumed before more than a few copies have been issued. the great theological libraries edited by the abbé j. p. migne, the _patrologie grecque, et latine_, owe their scarcity and advanced prices to a fire which consumed the entire remainder of the edition. all the copies of a large edition of "twenty years among our savage indians," by j. l. humfreville, were destroyed by fire in a hartford printing office in , except two, which had been deposited in the library of congress, to secure the copyright. the whole edition of the _machina coelestis_ of hevelius was burned, except the few copies which the author had presented to friends before the fire occurred. the earlier issues in spanish of the mexican and peruvian presses prior to are exceedingly rare. and editions of books printed at places in the united states where no books are now published are sought for their imprint alone and seldom found. ( ) many books have become rare because proscribed and in part destroyed by governmental or ecclesiastical authority. this applies more especially to the ages that succeeded the application of printing to the art of multiplying books. the freedom of many writers upon politics and popular rights led to the suppression of their books by kings, emperors or parliaments. at the same time, books of church history or doctrinal theology which departed, in however slight a degree, from the standard of faith proclaimed by the church, were put in the index expurgatorius, or list of works condemned in whole or in part as heretical and unlawful to be read. a long and melancholy record of such proscriptions, civil and ecclesiastical, is found in gabriel peignot's two volumes--_dictionnaire des livres condamnés au feu, supprimés, ou censurés_, etc. works of writers of genius and versatile ability were thus proscribed, until it gave rise to the sarcasm among the scholars of europe, that if one wanted to find what were the books best worth reading, he should look in the index expurgatorius. it appears to have been quite forgotten by those in authority that persecution commonly helps the cause persecuted, and that the best way to promote the circulation of a book is to undertake to suppress it. this age finds itself endowed with so many heretics that it is no longer possible to find purchasers at high prices for books once deemed unholy. suppressed passages in later editions lead to a demand for the uncastrated copies which adds an element of enhanced cost in the market. ( ) another source of rarity is the great extent and cost of many works, outrunning the ability of most collectors to buy or to accommodate them on their shelves. these costly possessions have been commonly printed in limited numbers for subscribers, or for distribution by governments under whose patronage they were produced. such are some of the notable collections of early voyages, the great folios of many illustrated scientific works on natural history, local geography, etc. that great scholar, baron von humboldt, used jocosely to say that he could not afford to own a set of his own works, most of which are folios sumptuously printed, with finely engraved illustrations. the collection known as the "_grands et petits voyages_" of de bry, the former in volumes, relating to america, and finely illustrated with copper-plates produced in the highest style of that art, are among the rarest sets of books to find complete. the collection of voyages by hulsius is equally difficult to procure. a really perfect set of piranesi's great illustrated work on the art and architecture of ancient rome is very difficult to acquire. the _acta sanctorum_, in the original edition, is very seldom found. but there is no room to multiply examples. ( ) what adds to the rarity and cost of certain books is the peculiarly expensive style or condition in which they are produced or preserved. some few copies of an edition, for example, are printed on vellum, or on china or india or other choice paper, in colored ink or bronze, on colored paper, (rose-tinted, or green, blue or yellow,) on large paper, with broad margins, etc. uncut copies always fetch a higher price than those whose edges are trimmed down in binding. to some book-collecting amateurs cut edges are an abomination. they will pay more for a book "in sheets," which they can bind after their own taste, than for the finest copy in calf or morocco with gilt edges. some books, also, are exceptionally costly because bound in a style of superior elegance and beauty, or as having belonged to a crowned head or a noble person, ("books with a pedigree") or an eminent author, or having autographs of notable characters on the fly-leaves or title-pages, or original letters inserted in the volume. others still are "extra-illustrated" works, in which one volume is swelled to several by the insertion of a multitude of portraits, autographs, and engravings, more or less illustrative of the contents of the book. this is called "grangerising," from its origin in the practice of thus illustrating granger's biographical history of england. book amateurs of expensive tastes are by no means rare, especially in england, france, and america, and the great commercial value placed upon uncut and rarely beautiful books, on which the highest arts of the printer and book-binder have been lavished, evinces the fact. ( ) the books emanating from the presses of famous printers are more sought for by collectors and libraries than other publications, because of their superior excellence. sometimes this is found in the beauty of the type, or the clear and elegant press-work; sometimes in the printers' marks, monograms, engraved initial letters, head and tail-pieces, or other illustrations; and sometimes in the fine quality of the choice paper on which the books are printed. thus, the productions of the presses of aldus, giunta, bodoni, etienne, elzevir, froben, gutenberg, fust and schoeffer, plantin, caxton, wynkyn de worde, bulmer, didot, baskerville, pickering, whittingham, and others, are always in demand, and some of the choicer specimens of their art, if in fine condition, bring great prices in the second-hand book-shops, or the auction room. an example of caxton's press is now almost unattainable, except in fragmentary copies. there are known to be only about examples of caxtons in the world, four-fifths of which are in england, and thirty-one of these are unique. his "king arthur" ( ) brought £ at auction in , and the polychronicon ( ) was sold at the ives sale (n. y.) in , for $ , . ( ) in the case of all finely illustrated works, the earlier impressions taken, both of text and plates, are more rare, and hence more valuable, than the bulk of the edition. thus, copies with "proofs before letters" of the steel engravings or etchings, sometimes command more than double the price of copies having only the ordinary plates. each added impression deteriorates a little the sharp, clear outlines and brilliant impressions which are peculiar to the first copies printed. ( ) of some books, certain volumes only are rare, and very costly in consequence. thus, burk's history of virginia is common enough in three volumes, but volume of the set, by jones and girardin, ( ,) is exceedingly rare, and seldom found with the others. the fifth and last volume of bunsen's egypt's place in universal history is very scarce, while the others are readily procured. of de bry's voyages, the th or final part of the american voyages is so rare as to be quite unattainable, unless after long years of search, and at an unconscionable price. ( ) the condition of any book is an unfailing factor in its price. many, if not most books offered by second-hand dealers are shop-worn, soiled, or with broken bindings, or some other defect. a pure, clean copy, in handsome condition without and within, commands invariably an extra price. thus the noted nuremberg chronicle of , a huge portly folio, with , wood-cuts in the text, many of them by albert dürer or other early artists, is priced in london catalogues all the way from £ . up to £ , for identically the same edition. the difference is dependent wholly on the condition of the copies offered. here is part of a description of the best copy: "nuremberg chronicle, by schedel, printed by koberger, first edition, , royal folio, with fine original impressions of the , large wood-cuts of towns, historical events, portraits, etc., very tall copy, measuring ½ inches by ½, beautifully bound in morocco super extra, full gilt edges, by riviere, £ . all the cuts are brilliant impressions, large and spirited. the book is genuine and perfect throughout; _no washed leaves_, and all the large capitals filled in by the rubricator by different colored inks: it has the six additional leaves at end, which brunet says are nearly always wanting." ( ) the first editions printed of many books always command high prices. not only is this true of the _editio princeps_ of homer, virgil, tacitus and other greek and roman writers, published in the infancy of printing, but of every noted author, of ancient or modern date. the edition printed during the life of the writer has had his own oversight and correction. and when more than one issue of his book has thus appeared, one sees how his maturer judgment has altered the substance or the style of his work. first editions of any very successful work always tend to become scarce, since the number printed is smaller, as a rule, and a large part of the issue is absorbed by public libraries. the earliest published writings of tennyson, now found with difficulty, show how much of emendation and omission this great poet thought proper to make in his poems in after years. a first edition of ivanhoe, vols., , brings £ or more, in the original boards, but if rebound in any style, the first waverley novels can be had at much less, though collectors are many. ( ) another class of rare books is found in many local histories, both among the county histories of great britain, and those of towns and counties in the united states. jay gould's history of delaware county, n. y., published in , and sought after in later times because of his note as a financier, is seldom found. of family genealogies, too, printed in small editions, there are many which cannot be had at all, and many more which have risen to double or even quadruple price. the market value of these books, always dependent on demand, is enhanced by the wants of public libraries which are making or completing collections of these much sought sources of information. ( ) there is a class of books rarely found in any reputable book shop, and which ought to be much rarer than they are--namely, those that belong to the domain of indecent literature. booksellers who deal in such wares often put them in catalogues under the head of _facetiae_, thus making a vile use of what should be characteristic only of books of wit or humor. men of prurient tastes become collectors of such books, many of which are not without some literary merit, while many more are neither fit to be written, nor printed, nor read. ( ) there is a large variety of books that are sought mainly on account, not of their authors, nor for their value as literature, but for their illustrators. many eminent artists (in fact most of those of any period) have made designs for certain books of their day. the reputation of an artist sometimes rests more upon his work given to the public in engravings, etchings, wood-cuts, etc., that illustrate books, than upon his works on canvas or in marble. many finely illustrated works bear prices enhanced by the eagerness of collectors, who are bent upon possessing the designs of some favorite artist, while some amateurs covet a collection of far wider scope. this demand, although fitful, and sometimes evanescent, (though more frequently recurrent,) lessens the supply of illustrated books, and with the constant drafts of new libraries, raises prices. turner's exquisite pictures in rogers's italy and poems ( - ) have floated into fame books of verse which find very few readers. hablot k. browne ("phiz") designed those immortal wellers in pickwick, which have delighted two whole generations of readers. the "cruikshankiana" are sought with avidity, in whatever numerous volumes they adorn. books illustrated with the designs of bartolozzi, marillier, eisen, gravelot, moreau, johannot, grandville, rowlandson, bewick, william blake, stothard, stanfield, harvey, martin, cattermole, birket foster, mulready, tenniel, maclise, gilbert, dalziel, leighton, holman hunt, doyle, leech, millais, rossetti, linton, du maurier, sambourne, caldecott, walter crane, kate greenaway, haden, hamerton, whistler, doré, anderson, darley, matt morgan, thos. nast, vedder, and others, are in constant demand, especially for the early impressions of books in which their designs appear. ( ) finally, that extensive class of books known as early _americana_ have been steadily growing rarer, and rising in commercial value, since about the middle of the nineteenth century. books and pamphlets relating to any part of the american continent or islands, the first voyages, discoveries, narratives or histories of those regions, which were hardly noted or cared for a century ago, are now eagerly sought by collectors for libraries both public and private. in this field, the keen competition of american historical societies, and of several great libraries, besides the ever increasing number of private collectors with large means, has notably enhanced the prices of all desirable and rare books. nor do the many reprints which have appeared much affect the market value of the originals, or first editions. this rise in prices, while far from uniform, and furnishing many examples of isolated extravagance, has been marked. witness some examples. the "bay psalm book," cambridge, mass., a. d. , is the caxton of new england, so rare that no perfect copy has been found for many years. in , henry stevens had the singular good fortune to find this typographical gem sandwiched in an odd bundle of old hymn books, unknown to the auctioneers or catalogue, at a london book sale. keeping his own counsel, he bid off the lot at nine shillings, completed an imperfection in the book, from another imperfect copy, had it bound in bedford's best, and sold it to mr. lenox's library at £ . in , stevens sold another copy to george brinley for guineas, which was bought for $ , in , by c. vanderbilt, at the brinley sale. john smith's folio "historie of virginia," st ed., , large paper, was sold to brinley in at $ , , and re-sold in for $ , to mr. lenox. in a copy on large paper brought £ at the hamilton library sale in london. in , a perfect copy of the large paper edition was presented to the library of congress by gen. w. b. franklin. perfect copies of smith's virginia of on small paper have sold for $ , , and those wanting some maps at $ to $ . the earlier english tracts relating to virginia and new england, printed between and , command large prices: _e. g._, lescarbot's new france, [canada,] , $ to $ ; wood's new england's prospect, , $ to $ ; hubbard's present state of new england, boston, , $ to $ . it is curious to note, in contrast, the following record of prices at the sale of dr. bernard's library in london, in : t. morton's new england, , eight pence; lescarbot's new france, , ten pence; wood's new england's prospect, , and three others, s. d.; nine eliot tracts, &c., s. d.; hubbard's present state of new england, , s.; smith's historie of virginia, , s. d. the numerous and now rare works of increase and cotton mather, printed from to , though mostly sermons, are collected by a sufficient number of libraries to maintain prices at from $ to $ each, according to condition. they number over volumes. several collections have been attempted of frankliniana, or works printed at benjamin franklin's press, and of the many editions of his writings, with all books concerning the illustrious printer-statesman of america. his "poor richard's almanacs," printed by him from to , and by successors to , are so rare that mr. p. l. ford found a visit to three cities requisite to see all of them. the library of congress possesses thirty-five years of these issues. a word may be added as to early newspapers, of some special numbers of which prices that are literally "fabulous" are recorded. there are many reprints afloat of the first american newspaper, and most librarians have frequent offers of the ulster county, (n. y.) gazette of jan. , , in mourning for the death of washington, a genuine copy of which is worth money, but the many spurious reprints (which include all those offered) are worth nothing. of many rare early books reprints or facsimiles are rife in the market, especially of those having but few leaves; these, however, are easily detected by an expert eye, and need deceive no one. of some scarce books, it may be said that they are as rare as the individuals who want them: and of a very few, that they are as rare as the extinct dodo. in fact, volumes have been written concerning extinct books, not without interest to the bibliomaniac who is fired with the passion for possessing something which no one else has got. some books are quite as worthless as they are rare. but books deemed worthless by the common or even by the enlightened mind are cherished as treasures by many collectors. the cook-book, entitled _le pastissier françois_, an elzevir of , is so rare as to have brought several times its weight in gold. nearly all the copies of some books have been worn to rags by anglers, devout women, cooks, or children. when a book is sold at a great price as "very rare," it often happens that several copies come into the market soon after, and, there being no demand, the commercial value is correspondingly depressed. the books most sure of maintaining full prices are first editions of master-pieces in literature. fitzgerald's version of omar khayyam was bought by nobody when quaritch first published it in . after eight years, he put the remainder of the edition,--a paper-covered volume--down to a penny each. when the book had grown into fame, and the many variations in later issues were discovered, this first edition, no longer procurable, rose to £ , the price actually paid by mr. quaritch himself at a book auction in ! auction sales of libraries having many rare books have been frequent in london and paris. the largest price yet obtained for any library was reached in - , when that of mr. wm. beckford brought £ , , being an average of nearly $ a volume. but w. c. hazlitt says of this sale, "the beckford books realized perfectly insane prices, and were afterwards re-sold for a sixth or even tenth of the amount, to the serious loss of somebody, when the barometer had fallen." the second-hand bookseller, having the whole range of printed literature for his field, has a great advantage in dealing with book collectors over the average dealer, who has to offer only new books, or such as are "in print." it may be owned that the love of rare books is chiefly sentimental. he who delights to spend his days or his nights in the contemplation of black-letter volumes, quaint title-pages, fine old bindings, and curious early illustrations, may not add to the knowledge or the happiness of mankind, but he makes sure of his own. the passion for rare books, merely because of their rarity, is a low order of the taste for books. but the desire to possess and read wise old books which have been touched by the hoar frost of time is of a higher mood. the first impression of paradise lost ( ) with its quarto page and antique orthography, is it not more redolent of the author's age than the elegant pickering edition, or the one illustrated by john martin or gustave doré? when you hold in your hand shakespeare's "midsommer night's dream" (a. d. ) and read with fresh admiration and delight the exquisite speeches of oberon and titania, may not the thought that perhaps that very copy may once have been held in the immortal bard's own hand send a thrill through your own? when you turn over the classic pages of homer illustrated by flaxman, that "dear sculptor of eternity," as william blake called him, or drink in the beauty of those delicious landscapes of turner, that astonishing man, who shall wonder at your desire to possess them? the genuine book lover is he who reads books; who values them for what they contain, not for their rarity, nor for the preposterous prices which have been paid for them. to him, book-hunting is an ever-enduring delight. of all the pleasures tasted here below, that of the book lover in finding a precious and long sought volume is one of the purest and most innocent. in books, he becomes master of all the kingdoms of the world. chapter . bibliography. to the book collector and the librarian, books of bibliography are the tools of the profession. without them he would be lost in a maze of literature without a clue. with them, his path is plain, and, in exact proportion to his acquaintance with them, will his knowledge and usefulness extend. bibliography may be defined as the science which treats of books, of their authors, subjects, history, classification, cataloguing, typography, materials (including paper, printing and binding) dates, editions, etc. this compound word, derived from two greek roots, _biblion_, book, and _graphein_, to write, has many analogous words, some of which, ignorantly used to express a bibliographer, may be set down for distinction: as, for example--bibliopole--a seller of books, often erroneously applied to a librarian, who buys but never sells: bibliophile, a lover of books, a title which he should always exemplify: bibliopegist, a book-binder: bibliolater, a worshipper of books: bibliophobe, a hater of books: bibliotaph, a burier of books--one who hides or conceals them: bibliomaniac, or bibliomane, one who has a mania or passion for collecting books. (bibliomania, some one has said, is a disease: bibliophily is a science: the first is a parody of the second.) bibliophage, or bibliophagist, a book-eater, or devourer of books. bibliognost, one versed in the science of books. biblioklept, a book thief. (this, you perceive, is from the same greek root as kleptomaniac.) bibliogist, one learned about books, (the same nearly as bibliographer); and finally, bibliothecary, a librarian. this brings me to say, in supplementing this elementary list (needless for some readers) that _bibliotheca_ is latin for a library; _bibliothèque_ is french for the same; _bibliothécaire_ is french for librarian, while the french word _libraire_ means book seller or publisher, though often mistaken by otherwise intelligent persons, for librarian, or library. the word "bibliotechny" is not found in any english dictionary known to me, although long in use in its equivalent forms in france and germany. it means all that belongs to the knowledge of the book, to its handling, cataloguing, and its arrangement upon the shelves of a library. it is also applied to the science of the formation of libraries, and their complete organization. it is employed in the widest and most extended sense of what may be termed material or physical bibliography. bibliotechny applies, that is to say, to the technics of the librarian's work--to the outside of the books rather than the inside--to the mechanics, not the metaphysics of the profession. the french word "_bibliothéconomie_," much in use of late years, signifies much the same thing as _bibliotechnie_, and we translate it, not into one word, but two, calling it "library economy." this word "economy" is not used in the most current sense--as significant of saving--but in the broad, modern sense of systematic order, or arrangement. there are two other words which have found their way into murray's oxford dictionary, the most copious repository of english words, with illustrations of their origin and history, ever published, namely, biblioclast--a destroyer of books (from the same final root as iconoclast) and bibliogony, the production of books. i will add that out of the fifteen or more words cited as analogous to bibliography, only three are found used earlier than the last quarter century, the first use of most having been this side of . this is a striking instance of the phenomenal growth of new words in our already rich and flexible english tongue. carlyle even has the word "bibliopoesy," the making of books,--from _biblion_, and _poiein_--to make. public libraries are useful to readers in proportion to the extent and ready supply of the helps they furnish to facilitate researches of every kind. among these helps a wisely selected collection of books of reference stands foremost. considering the vast extent and opulence of the world of letters, and the want of experience of the majority of readers in exploring this almost boundless field, the importance of every key which can unlock its hidden stores becomes apparent. the printed catalogue of no single library is at all adequate to supply full references, even to its own stores of knowledge; while these catalogues are, of course, comparatively useless as to other stores of information, elsewhere existing. even the completest and most extensive catalogue in the world, that of the british museum library, although now extended to more than folio volumes in print, representing , volumes in manuscript, is not completed so as to embrace the entire contents of that rich repository of knowledge. from lack of information of the aid furnished by adequate books of reference in a special field, many a reader goes groping in pursuit of references or information which might be found in some one of the many volumes which may be designated as works of bibliography. the diffidence and reserve of many students in libraries, and the mistaken fear of giving trouble to librarians, frequently deprives them of even those aids which a few words of inquiry might bring forth from the ready knowledge of the custodians in charge. that is the best library, and he is the most useful librarian, by whose aid every reader is enabled to put his finger on the fact he wants, just when it is wanted. in attaining this end it is essential that the more recent, important, and valuable aids to research in general science, as well as in special departments of each, should form a part of the library. in order to make a fit selection of books (and all libraries are practically reduced to a selection, from want of means to possess the whole) it is indispensable to know the relative value of the books concerned. many works of reference of great fame, and once of great value, have become almost obsolete, through the issue of more extensive and carefully edited works in the same field. while a great and comprehensive library should possess every work of reference, old or new, which has aided or may aid the researches of scholars, (not forgetting even the earlier editions of works often reprinted), the smaller libraries, on the other hand, are compelled to exercise a close economy of selection. the most valuable works of reference, among which the more copious and extensive bibliographies stand first, are frequently expensive treasures, and it is important to the librarian furnishing a limited and select library to know what books he can best afford to do without. if he cannot buy both the _manuel du libraire_ by brunet, in five volumes, and the _trésor des livres rares et précieux_ of graesse, seven volumes, both of which are dictionaries of the choicer portions of literature, it is important to know that brunet is the more indispensable of the two. from the , reference books lying open to the consultation of all readers in the great rotunda of the british museum reading room, to the small and select case of dictionaries, catalogues, cyclopaedias, and other works of reference in a town or subscription library, the interval is wide indeed. but where we cannot have all, it becomes the more important to have the best; and the reader who has at hand for ready reference the latest and most copious dictionary of each of the leading languages of the world, two or three of the best general bibliographies, the most copious catalogue raisonné of the literature in each great department of science, the best biographical dictionaries, and the latest and most copious encyclopaedias issued from the press, is tolerably well equipped for the prosecution of his researches. next in importance to the possession in any library of a good selection of the most useful books of reference, is the convenient accessibility of these works to the reading public. just in proportion to the indispensability and frequency of use of any work should be the facility to the reader of availing himself of its aid. the leading encyclopaedias, bibliographies, dictionaries, annuals, and other books of reference should never be locked up in cases, nor placed on high or remote shelves. there should be in every library what may be termed a central bureau of reference. here should be assembled, whether on circular cases made to revolve on a pivot, or on a rectangular case, with volumes covering both sides, or in a central alcove forming a portion of the shelves of the main library, all those books of reference, and volumes incessantly needed by students in pursuit of their various inquiries. it is important that the custodians of all libraries should remember that this ready and convenient supply of the reference books most constantly wanted, serves the double object of economizing the time of the librarian and assistants for other labor, and of accommodating in the highest degree the readers, whose time is also economized. the misplacement of volumes which will thus occur is easily rectified, while the possibility of loss through abstraction is so extremely small that it should not be permitted to weigh for a moment in comparison with the great advantages resulting from the rule of liberality in aiding the wants of readers. bibliography, in its most intimate sense, is the proper science of the librarian. to many it is a study--to some, it is a passion. while the best works in bibliography have not always been written by librarians, but by scholars enamored of the science of books, and devotees of learning, it is safe to say that the great catalogues which afford such inestimable aid to research, have nearly all been prepared in libraries, and not one of the books worthy of the name of bibliography, could have been written without their aid. in viewing the extensive field of bibliographies, regard for systematic treatment requires that they be divided into classes. beginning first with general bibliographies, or those claiming to be universal, we should afterwards consider the numerous bibliographies of countries, or those devoted to national literature; following that by the still more numerous special bibliographies, or those embracing works on specially designated subjects. the two classes last named are by far the most numerous. although what may be termed a "universal catalogue" has been the dream of scholars for many ages, it is as far as ever from being realized--and in fact much farther than ever before, since each year that is added to the long roll of the past increases enormously the number of books to be dealt with, and consequently the difficulties of the problem. we may set down the publication of a work which should contain the titles of all books ever printed, as a practical impossibility. the world's literature is too vast and complex to be completely catalogued, whether on the coöperative plan, or any other. meanwhile the many thousands of volumes, each of which has been devoted to some portion of the vast and ever-increasing stores of literature and science which human brains have put in print, will serve to aid the researches of the student, when rightly guided by an intelligent librarian. notwithstanding the hopeless nature of the quest, it is true that some men of learning have essayed what have been termed universal bibliographies. the earliest attempt in this direction was published at zürich in , under the title of "bibliotheca universalis," by conrad gesner, a swiss scholar whose acquisition of knowledge was so extensive that he was styled "a miracle of learning." this great work gave the titles of all books of which its author could find trace, and was illustrated by a mass of bibliographical notes and criticism. it long held a high place in the world of letters, though it is now seldom referred to in the plethora of more modern works of bibliography. in , the bookseller b. ostern put forth at frankfort, his _bibliothèque universelle_, a catalogue of all books from to . in , th. georgi issued in eleven folio volumes, his _allgemeines europäisches_ _bücher-lexikon_, claiming to represent the works of nearly all writers from down to . this formidable catalogue may perhaps be said to embrace more forgotten books than any other in the literary history of the world. almost equally formidable, however, is the bibliography of that erudite scholar, christian g. jöcher, who put forth in , at leipzig, his _allgemeines gelehrten-lexicon_, in which, says the title page, "the learned men of all classes who have lived from the beginning of the world up to the present time, are described." this book, with its supplement, by adelung and rotermund, (completed only to letter r), makes ten ponderous quarto volumes, and may fairly be styled a thesaurus of the birth and death of ancient scholars and their works. it is still largely used in great libraries, to identify the period and the full names of many obscure writers of books, who are not commemorated in the catalogues of universal bibliography, compiled on a more restrictive plan. we come now to the notable catalogues of early-printed books, which aim to cover all the issues of the press from the first invention of printing, up to a certain period. one of the most carefully edited and most readily useful of these is hain, (l.) _repertorium bibliographicum_, in four small and portable octavo volumes, published at stuttgart in - . this gives, in an alphabet of authors, all the publications found printed (with their variations and new editions), from a. d. to a. d. . more extensive is the great catalogue of g. w. panzer, entitled _annales typographici_, in eleven quarto volumes, published at nuremberg from to . this work, which covers the period from (the period of the first book ever printed with a date) up to a. d. , is not arranged alphabetically (as in hain's repertorium) by the names of authors, but in the order of the cities or places where the books catalogued were printed. the bibliography thus brings together in one view, the typographical product of each city or town for about eighty years after the earliest dated issues of the press, arranged in chronological order of the years when printed. this system has undeniable advantages, but equally obvious defects, which are sought to be remedied by many copious indexes of authors and printers. next in importance comes m. maittaire's _annales typographici, ab artis inventae origine ad annum _, printed at the hague (hagae comitum) and completed at london, from - , in eleven volumes, quarto, often bound in five volumes. there is besides, devoted to the early printed literature of the world, the useful three volume bibliography by la serna de santander, published at brussels in , entitled _dictionnaire bibliographique choisie du quinzième siècle_, bruxelles, , embracing a selection of what its compiler deemed the more important books published from the beginning of printing up to a. d. . all the four works last named contain the titles and descriptions of what are known as _incunabula_, or cradle-books (from latin _cunabula_, a cradle) a term applied to all works produced in the infancy of printing, and most commonly to those appearing before . these books are also sometimes called fifteeners, or th century books. of general bibliographies of later date, only a few of the most useful and important can here be named. at the head of these stands, deservedly, the great work of j. c. brunet, entitled _manuel du libraire et de l'amateur des livres_, the last or th edition of which appeared at paris in - , in five thick octavo volumes. the first edition of brunet appeared in , and every issue since has exhibited not only an extensive enlargement, but great improvement in careful, critical editorship. it embraces most of the choicest books that have appeared in the principal languages of europe, and a supplement in two volumes, by p. deschamps and g. brunet, appeared in . next to brunet in importance to the librarian, is j. g. t. graesse's _trésor des livres rares et précieux_, which is more full than brunet in works in the teutonic languages, and was published at dresden in six quarto volumes, with a supplement, in - . both of these bibliographies aim at a universal range, though they make a selection of the best authors and editions, ancient and modern, omitting however, the most recent writers. the arrangement of both is strictly alphabetical, or a dictionary of authors' names, while brunet gives in a final volume a classification by subjects. both catalogues are rendered additionally valuable by the citation of prices at which many of the works catalogued have been sold at book auctions in the present century. in was published at paris a kind of universal bibliography, on the plan of a _catalogue raisonné_, or dictionary of subjects, by messrs. f. denis, pinçon, and de martonne, two of whom were librarians by profession. this work of over pages, though printed in almost microscopic type, and now about forty years in arrears, has much value as a ready key to the best books then known on nearly every subject in science and literature. it is arranged in a complete index of topics, the books under each being described in chronological order, instead of the alphabetical. the preponderance is given to the french in the works cited on most subjects, but the literature of other nations is by no means neglected. it is entitled _nouveau manuel de bibliographie universelle_, and being a subjective index, while brunet and graesse are arranged by authors' names, it may be used to advantage in connection with these standard bibliographies. while on this subject, let me name the books specially devoted to lists of bibliographical works--general and special. these may be termed the catalogues of catalogues,--and are highly useful aids, indeed indispensable to the librarian, who seeks to know what lists of books have appeared that are devoted to the titles of publications covering any period, or country, or special subject in the whole circle of sciences or literatures. the first notably important book of reference in this field, was the work of that most industrious bibliographer, gabriel peignot, who published at paris, in , his _repertoire bibliographique universelle_, in one volume. this work contains the titles of most special bibliographies, of whatever subject or country, published up to , and of many works bibliographical in character, devoted to literary history. dr. julius petzholdt, one of the most learned and laborious of librarians, issued at leipzig in , a _bibliotheca bibliographica_, the fuller title of which was "a critical catalogue, exhibiting in systematic order, the entire field of bibliography covering the literature of germany and other countries." the rather ambitious promise of this title is well redeemed in the contents: for very few catalogues of importance issued before , are omitted in this elaborate book of closely printed pages. most titles of the bibliographies given are followed by critical and explanatory notes, of much value to the unskilled reader. these notes are in german, while all the titles cited are in the language of the books themselves. after giving full titles of all the books in general bibliography, he takes up the national bibliographies by countries, citing both systematic catalogues and periodicals devoted to the literature of each in any period. this is followed by a distributive list of scientific bibliographies, so full as to leave little to be desired, except for later issues of the press. one of the curiosities of this work is its catalogue of all the issues of the "index librorum prohibitorum", or books forbidden to be read, including separate catalogues, from a. d. to a. d. . the next bibliographical work claiming to cover this field was in the french language, being the _bibliographie des bibliographies_ of léon vallée, published in at paris. this book, though beautifully printed, is so full of errors, and still fuller of omissions, that it is regarded by competent scholars as a failure, though still having its uses to the librarian. it is amazing that any writer should put forth a book seventeen years after the great and successful work of petzholdt, purporting to be a catalogue of bibliographies, and yet fail to record such a multitude of printed contributions to the science of sciences as vallée has overlooked. some ten years later, or in , there came from the french press, a far better bibliographical work, covering the modern issues of books of bibliography more especially, with greater fullness and superior plan. this is the _manuel de bibliographie générale_, by henri stein. this work contains, in well-printed pages, st. a list of universal bibliographies: d. a catalogue of national bibliographies, in alphabetical order of countries: d. a list of classified bibliographies of subjects, divided into seventeen classes, namely, religious sciences, philosophical sciences, juridical, economic, social, and educational sciences, pure and applied sciences, medical sciences, philology and belles lettres, geographical and historical sciences, sciences auxiliary to history, archaeology and fine arts, music, and biography. besides these extremely useful categories of bibliographical aids, in which the freshest publications of catalogues and lists of books in each field are set forth, m. stein gives us a complete geographical bibliography of printing, on a new plan. this he entitles "_géographie bibliographique_," or systematic lists of localities in every part of the world which possessed a printing press prior to the th century. it gives, after the modern or current name of each place, the latin, or ancient name, the country in which located, the year in which the first printed publication appeared in each place, and finally, the authority for the statement. this handy-list of information alone, is worth the cost of the work, since it will save much time of the inquirer, in hunting over many volumes of panzer, maittaire, hain, dibdin, thomas, or other authors on printing, to find the origin of the art, or early name of the place where it was introduced. the work contains, in addition, a general table of the periodicals of all countries, (of course not exhaustive) divided into classes, and filling seventy-five pages. it closes with a "repertory of the principal libraries of the entire world," and with an index to the whole work, in which the early names in latin, of all places where books were printed, are interspersed in the alphabet, distinguished by italic type, and with the modern name of each town or city affixed. this admirable feature will render unnecessary any reference to the _orbis latinus_ of graesse, or to any other vocabulary of geography, to identify the place in which early-printed books appeared. stein is by no means free from errors, and some surprising omissions. one cardinal defect is the absence of any full index of authors whose books are cited. there are also quite brief catalogues of works on bibliography in j. power's handy book about books, london, , and in j. sabin's bibliography: a handy book about books which relate to books, n. y., . the latter work is an expansion of the first-named. we come now to the second class of our bibliographies, _viz._: those of various countries. here the reader must be on his guard not to be misled into too general an interpretation of geographical terms. thus, he will find many books and pamphlets ambitiously styled "_catalogue américaine_", which are so far from being general bibliographies of books relating to america, that they are merely lists of a few books for sale by some book-dealer, which have something american in their subject. to know what catalogues are comprehensive, and what period they cover, as well as the limitations of nearly all of them, is a necessary part of the training of a bibliographer, and is essential to the librarian who would economize his time and enlarge his usefulness. let us begin with our own country. here we are met at the outset by the great paucity of general catalogues of american literature, and the utter impossibility of finding any really comprehensive lists of the books published in the united states, during certain periods. we can get along tolerably well for the publications within the last thirty years, which nearly represent the time since systematic weekly bibliographical journals have been published, containing lists of the current issues of books. but for the period just before the civil war, back to the year , or for very nearly a century, we are without any systematic bibliography of the product of the american press. the fragmentary attempts which have been made toward supplying an account of what books have been published in the united states from the beginning, will hereafter be briefly noted. at the outset, you are to observe the wide distinction that exists between books treating of america, or any part of it, and books printed in america. the former may have been printed anywhere, at any time since , and in any language: and to such books, the broad significant term "_americana_" may properly be applied, as implying books relating to america. but this class of works is wholly different from that of books written or produced by americans, or printed in america. it is these latter that we mean when we lament the want of a comprehensive american catalogue. there have been published in the united states alone (to go no farther into america at present) thousands of books, whose titles are not found anywhere, except widely scattered in the catalogues of libraries, public and private, in which they exist. nay, there are multitudes of publications which have been issued in this country during the last two hundred years, whose titles cannot be found anywhere in print. this is not, generally, because the books have perished utterly,--though this is unquestionably true of some, but because multitudes of books that have appeared, and do appear, wholly escape the eye of the literary, or critical, or bibliographical chronicler. it is, beyond doubt true even now, that what are commonly accepted as complete catalogues of the issues of the press of any year, are wofully incomplete, and that too, through no fault of their compilers. many works are printed in obscure towns, or in newspaper offices, which never reach the great eastern cities, where our principal bibliographies, both periodical and permanent, are prepared. many books, too, are "privately printed," to gratify the pride or the taste of their authors, and a few copies distributed to friends, or sometimes to selected libraries, or public men. in these cases, not only are the public chroniclers of new issues of the press in ignorance of the printing of many books, but they are purposely kept in ignorance. charles lamb, of humorous and perhaps immortal memory, used to complain of the multitudes of books which are no books; and we of to-day may complain, if we choose, of the vast number of publications that are not published. take a single example of the failure of even large and imposing volumes to be included in the "american catalogue," for whose aid, librarians are so immeasurably indebted to the enterprise of its publishers. a single publishing house west of new york, printed and circulated in about four years time, no less than thirty-two elaborate and costly histories, of western counties and towns, not one of which was ever recorded by title in our only comprehensive american bibliography. why was this? simply because the works referred to were published only as subscription books, circulated by agents, carefully kept out of booksellers' hands, and never sent to the eastern press for notice or review. when circumstances like these exist as to even very recent american publications (and they are continually happening) is it any wonder that our bibliographies are incomplete? perhaps some will suggest that there must be one record of american publications which is complete, namely, the office of copyright at washington. it is true that the titles of all copyright publications are required by law to be there registered, and copies deposited as soon as printed. it is also true that a weekly catalogue of all books and other copyright publications is printed, and distributed by the treasury, to all our custom-houses, to intercept piratical re-prints which might be imported. but the books just referred to were not entered for copyright at all, the publishers apparently preferring the risk of any rival's reprinting them, rather than to incur the cost of the small copyright fee, and the deposit of copies. in such cases, there is no law requiring publishers to furnish copies of their books. the government guarantees no monopoly of publication, and so cannot exact a _quid pro quo._, however much it might inure to the interest of publisher and author to have the work seen and noticed, and preserved beyond risk of perishing (unless printed on wood-pulp paper) in the library of the united states. if such extensive omissions of the titles of books sometimes important, can now continually occur in our accepted standards of national bibliography, what shall we say of times when we had no critical journals, no publishers' trade organs, and no weekly, nor annual, nor quinquennial catalogues of american books issued? must we not allow, in the absence of any catalogues worthy of the name, to represent such periods, that all our reference books are from the very necessity of the case deplorably incomplete? only by the most devoted, indefatigable and unrewarded industry have we got such aids to research as to the existence of american publications, as haven's catalogue of american publications prior to , sabin's bibliotheca americana, and the american catalogues of leypoldt, bowker, and their coadjutors. these illustrations are cited to guard against the too common error of supposing that we have in the numerous american catalogues that exist, even putting them all together, any full bibliography of the titles of american books. while it cannot be said that the _lacunae_ or omissions approach the actual entries in number, it must be allowed that books are turning up every day, both new and old, whose titles are not found in any catalogue. the most important books--those which deserve a name as literature, are found recorded somewhere--although even as to many of these, one has to search many alphabets, in a large number of volumes, before tracing them, or some editions of them. one principal source of the great number of titles of books found wanting in american catalogues, is that many books were printed at places remote from the great cities, and were never announced in the columns of the press at all. this is especially true as to books printed toward the close of the th century, and during the first quarter of the th. not only have we no bibliography whatever of american issues of the press, specially devoted to covering the long period between and , but multitudes of books printed during that neglected half-century, have failed to get into the printed catalogues of our libraries. as illustrations we might give a long catalogue of places where book-publication was long carried on, and many books of more or less importance printed or reprinted, but in which towns not a book has been produced for more than three-quarters of a century past. one of these towns was winchester, and another williamsburg, in virginia; another was exeter, new hampshire, and a fourth was carlisle, pa. in the last-named place, one archibald loudon printed many books, between a. d. , and , which have nearly all escaped the chroniclers of american book-titles. notable among the productions of his press, was his own book, a history of indian wars, or as he styled it in the title page, "a selection of some of the most interesting narratives of outrages committed by the indians in their wars with the white people." this history appeared in two volumes from the press of a. loudon, carlisle, pa., in and . it is so rare that i have failed to find its title anywhere except in sabin's bibliotheca americana, field's indian bibliography, and the catalogue of the library of congress. not even the british museum library, so rich in americana, has a copy. sabin states that only six copies are known, and field styles it, "this rarest of books on america," adding that he could learn of only three perfect copies in the world. a harrisburg reprint of ( copies to subscribers) is also quite rare. continuing the subject of american bibliography, and still lamenting the want of any comprehensive or finished work in that field which is worthy of the name, let us see what catalogues do exist, even approximating completeness for any period. the earlier years of the production of american books have been partially covered by the "catalogue of publications in what is now the united states, prior to ." this list was compiled by an indefatigable librarian, the late samuel f. haven, who was at the head of the library of the american antiquarian society, at worcester, mass. it gives all titles by sequence of years of publication, instead of alphabetical order, from (the epoch of the earliest printing in the united states) to the end of . the titles of books and pamphlets are described with provoking brevity, being generally limited to a single line for each, and usually without publishers' names, (though the places of publication and sometimes the number of pages are given) so that it leaves much to be desired. notwithstanding this, mr. haven's catalogue is an invaluable aid to the searcher after titles of the early printed literature of our country. it appeared at albany, n. y., in , as an appendix [in vol ] to a new (or second) edition of isaiah thomas's history of printing in america, which was first published in . in using it, the librarian will find no difficulty, if he knows the year when the publication he looks for appeared, as all books of each year are arranged in alphabetical order. but if he knows only the author's name, he may have a long search to trace the title, there being no general alphabet or index of authors. this chronological arrangement has certain advantages to the literary inquirer or historian, while for ready reference, its disadvantages are obvious. while there were several earlier undertakings of an american bibliography than haven's catalogue of publications before the american revolution, yet the long period which that list covers, and its importance, entitled it to first mention here. there had, however, appeared, as early as the year , in boston, "a catalogue of all books, printed in the united states, with the prices, and places where published, annexed." this large promise is hardly redeemed by the contents of this thin pamphlet of pages, all told. yet the editor goes on to assure us-- "this catalogue is intended to include all books of general sale printed in the united states, whether original, or reprinted; that the public may see the rapid progress of book-printing in a country, where, twenty years since, scarcely a book was published. local and occasional tracts are generally omitted. some of the books in the catalogue are now out of print, and others are scarce. it is contemplated to publish a new edition of this catalogue, every two years, and to make the necessary additions and corrections; and it is hoped the time is not far distant, when useful libraries may be formed of american editions of books, well printed, and handsomely bound. printed at boston, for the book sellers, jan., ." the really remarkable thing about this catalogue is that it was the very first bibliographical attempt at a general catalogue, in separate form, in america. it is quite interesting as an early booksellers' list of american publications, as well as for its classification, which is as follows: "law, physic, divinity, bibles, miscellanies, school books, singing books, omissions." the fact that no subsequent issues of the catalogue appeared, evinces the very small interest taken in bibliographic knowledge in those early days. this curiosity of early american bibliography gives the titles of books, all of american publication, with prices in . here are samples: bingham's columbian orator, cts.: burney's cecilia, vols. $ : memoirs of pious women, $ . : belknap's new hampshire, vols. $ : mrs. coghlan's memoirs, ½ cts.: brockden brown's wieland, $ : federalist, vols. $ . : dilworth's spelling book, ½ cts.: pike's arithmetic, $ . . the number of out-of-the-way places in which books were published in those days is remarkable. thus, in connecticut, we have as issuing books, litchfield, new london and fairhaven: in massachusetts, leominster, dedham, greenfield, brookfield, and wrentham: in new hampshire, dover, walpole, portsmouth, and exeter: in pennsylvania, washington, carlisle, and chambersburg: in new jersey, morristown, elizabethtown, and burlington. at alexandria, va., eight books are recorded as published. this historical nugget of the boston bookmongers of a century ago is so rare, that only two copies are known in public libraries, namely, in the library of congress, and in that of the massachusetts historical society. it was reprinted in , for the dibdin club of new york, by mr. a. growoll, of the publishers' weekly, to whose curious and valuable notes on "booktrade bibliography in the united states in the th century," it forms a supplement. the next catalogue of note claiming to be an american catalogue, or of books published in america, was put forth in , at claremont, n. h., by alexander v. blake. this was entitled, "the american bookseller's complete reference trade-list, and alphabetical catalogue of books, published in this country, with the publishers' and authors' names, and prices." this quarto volume, making pages (with its supplement issued in ) was the precursor of the now current "trade list annual," containing the lists of books published by all publishers whose lists could be secured. the titles are very brief, and are arranged in the catalogue under the names of the respective publishers, with an alphabetical index of authors and of anonymous titles at the end. it served well its purpose of a book-trade catalogue fifty years ago, being the pioneer in that important field. it is now, like the catalogue of , just noticed, chiefly interesting as a bibliographical curiosity, although both lists do contain the titles of some books not elsewhere found. mr. orville a. roorbach, a new york bookseller, was the next compiler of an american bibliography. his first issue of was enlarged and published in , under this title: "bibliotheca americana: a catalogue of american publications, including reprints and original works, from to , inclusive." this octavo volume of pages, in large, clear type, closely abbreviates nearly all titles, though giving in one comprehensive alphabet, the authors' names, and the titles of the books under the first word, with year and place of publication, publisher's name, and price at which issued. no collation of the books is given, but the catalogue supplies sufficient portions of each title to identify the book. it is followed in an appendix by a catalogue of law books, in a separate alphabet, and a list of periodicals published in the united states in . roorbach continued his catalogue to the year , by the issue of three successive supplements: ( ) covering the american publications of to : ( ) from to : ( ) from to . these four catalogues, aiming to cover, in four different alphabets, the issues of the american press for forty years, or from to , are extremely useful lists to the librarian, as finding lists, although the rigorously abbreviated titles leave very much to be desired by the bibliographer, and the omissions are exceedingly numerous of books published within the years named, but whose titles escaped the compiler. following close upon roorbach's bibliotheca americana in chronological order, we have next two bibliographies covering american book issues from to . these were compiled by a new york book dealer named james kelly, and were entitled the american catalogue of books, (original and reprint) published in the united states from jan., , to jan., , [and from jan., , to jan., ] with date of publication, size, price, and publisher's name. the first volume contained a supplement, with list of pamphlets on the civil war, and also a list of the publications of learned societies. these very useful and important catalogues cover ten years of american publishing activity, adding also to their own period many titles omitted by roorbach in earlier years. kelly's catalogues number and pages respectively, and, like roorbach's, they give both author and title in a single alphabet. names of publishers are given, with place and year of publication, and retail price, but without number of pages, and with no alphabet of subjects. next after kelly's catalogue came the first issue of the "american catalogue," which, with its successive volumes (all published in quarto form) ably represents the bibliography of our country during the past twenty-five years. the title of the first volume, issued in , reads "american catalogue of books in print and for sale (including reprints and importations) july , . compiled under direction of f. leypoldt, by l. e. jones." this copious repository of book-titles was in two parts: ( ) authors, and ( ) subject-index. both are of course in alphabetical order, and the titles of books are given with considerable abbreviation. the fact that its plan includes many titles of books imported from great britain, (as supplying information to book-dealers and book-buyers) prevents it from being considered as a bibliography of strictly american publications. still, it is the only approximately full american bibliography of the publications current twenty-five years ago. as such, its volumes are indispensable in every library, and should be in its earliest purchase of works of reference. the limitation of the catalogue to books still in print--_i. e._, to be had of the publishers at the time of its issue, of course precludes it from being ranked as a universal american bibliography. the first issue in was followed, in , by the "american catalogue, - : books recorded (including reprints and importations), under editorial direction of r. r. bowker, by miss a. i. appleton." this appeared in one volume, but with two alphabets; one being authors and titles, and the other an alphabet of subjects. as this volume included eight years issues of the american press, the next bibliography published covered the next ensuing six years, and included the books recorded from july, to july, . this appeared in , edited with care by miss appleton and others. in appeared its successor, the "american catalogue, - . compiled under the editorial direction of r. r. bowker." this catalogue records in its first volume, or alphabet of authors: ( ) author; ( ) size of book; ( ) year of issue; ( ) price; ( ) publisher's name. the names of places where published are not given with the title, being rendered unnecessary by the full alphabetical list of publishers which precedes, and fixes the city or town where each published his books. this same usage is followed in succeeding issues of the american catalogue. this indispensable bibliography of recent american books, in addition to its regular alphabets of authors and titles (the latter under first words and in the same alphabet with the authors) and the succeeding alphabet of subjects, prints a full list of the publications of the united states government, arranged by departments and bureaus; also a list of the publications of state governments, of societies, and of books published in series. this last issue has pages. its only defects (aside from its inevitable omissions of many unrecorded books) are the double alphabet, and the want of collation, or an indication of the number of pages in each work, which should follow every title. its cost in bound form is $ , at which the two preceding american catalogues - , and to can also be had, while the catalogue of books in print in , published in , is quite out of print, though a copy turns up occasionally from some book-dealer's stock. the american catalogue has now become a quinquennial issue, gathering the publications of five years into one alphabet; and it is supplemented at the end of every year by the "annual american catalogue," started in , which gives, in about pages, in its first alphabet, collations of the books of the year (a most important feature, unfortunately absent from the quinquennial american catalogue.) its second alphabet gives authors, titles, and sometimes subject-matters, but without the distribution into subject-divisions found in the quinquennial catalogue; and the titles are greatly abridged from the full record of its first alphabet. its price is $ . each year. and this annual, in turn, is made up from the catalogues of titles of all publications, which appear in the _publishers' weekly_, the carefully edited organ of the book publishing interests in the united states. this periodical, which will be found a prime necessity in every library, originated in new york, in , as the "american publishers' circular," and has developed into the recognized authority in american publications, under the able management of r. r. bowker and a. growoll. for three dollars a year, it supplies weekly and monthly alphabetical lists of whatever comes from the press, in book form, as completely as the titles can be gathered from every source. it gives valuable notes after most titles, defining the scope and idea of the work, with collations, features which are copied into the annual american catalogue. i must not omit to mention among american bibliographies, although published in london, and edited by a foreigner, mr. n. trübner's "bibliographical guide to american literature: a classed list of books published in the united states during the last forty years." this book appeared in , and is a carefully edited bibliography, arranged systematically in thirty-two divisions of subjects, filling pages octavo. it gives under each topic, an alphabet of authors, followed by titles of the works, given with approximate fullness, followed by place and year of publication, but without publishers' names. the number of pages is also given where ascertained, and the price of the work quoted in sterling english money. this work, by a competent german-english book-publisher of london, is preceded by a brief history of american literature, and closes with a full index of authors whose works are catalogued in it. we come now to by far the most comprehensive and ambitious attempt to cover not only the wide field of american publications, but the still more extensive field of books relating to america, which has ever yet been made. i refer to the "bibliotheca americana; a dictionary of books relating to america," by joseph sabin, begun more than thirty years ago, in , and still unfinished, its indefatigable compiler having died in , at the age of sixty. this vast bibliographical undertaking was originated by a variously-gifted and most energetic man, not a scholar, but a bookseller and auctioneer, born in england. mr. sabin is said to have compiled more catalogues of private libraries that have been brought to the auctioneer's hammer, than any man who ever lived in america. he bought and sold, during nearly twenty years, old and rare books, in a shop in nassau street, new york, which was the resort of book collectors and bibliophiles without number. he made a specialty of americana, and of early printed books in english literature, crossing the atlantic twenty-five times to gather fresh stores with which to feed his hungry american customers. during all these years, he worked steadily at his _magnum opus_, the bibliography of america, carrying with him in his many journeys and voyages, in cars or on ocean steamships, copy and proofs of some part of the work. there have been completed about ninety parts, or eighteen thick volumes of nearly pages each; and since his death the catalogue has been brought down to the letter s, mainly by mr. wilberforce eames, librarian of the lenox library, new york. though its ultimate completion must be regarded as uncertain, the great value to all librarians, and students of american bibliography or history, of the work so far as issued, can hardly be over-estimated. mr. sabin had the benefit in revising the proofs of most of the work, of the critical knowledge and large experience of mr. charles a. cutter, the librarian of the boston athenaeum library, whose catalogue of the books in that institution, in five goodly volumes, is a monument of bibliographical learning and industry. sabin's dictionary is well printed, in large, clear type, the titles being frequently annotated, and prices at auction sales of the rarer and earlier books noted. every known edition of each work is given, and the initials of public libraries in the united states, to the number of thirteen, in which the more important works are found, are appended. in not a few cases, where no copy was known to the compiler in a public collection, but was found in a private library, the initials of its owner were given instead. this extensive bibliography was published solely by subscription, only copies being printed at $ . a part, so that its cost to those subscribing was about $ unbound, up to the time of its suspension. the first part appeared january , , although vol. i. bears date new york, . it records most important titles in full, with (usually) marks denoting omissions where such are made. in the case of many rare books relating to america (and especially those published prior to the th century) the collations are printed so as to show what each line of the original title embraces, _i. e._ with vertical marks or dashes between the matter of the respective lines. this careful description is invaluable to the bibliographical student, frequently enabling him to identify editions, or to solve doubts as to the genuineness of a book-title in hand. the collation by number of pages is given in all cases where the book has been seen, or reported fully to the editor. the order of description as to each title is as follows: ( ) place of publication ( ) publisher ( ) year ( ) collation and size of book. notes in a smaller type frequently convey information of other editions, of prices in various sales, of minor works by the same writer, etc. the fullness which has been aimed at in sabin's american bibliography is seen in the great number of sermons and other specimens of pamphlet literature which it chronicles. it gives also the titles of most early american magazines, reviews, and other periodicals, except newspapers, which are generally omitted, as are maps also. as an example of the often minute cataloguing of the work, i may mention that no less than eight pages are occupied with a list of the various publications and editions of books by dr. jedediah morse, an author of whom few of the present generation of americans have ever heard. he was the earliest american geographer who published any comprehensive books upon the subject, and his numerous gazetteers and geographies, published from to , were constantly reprinted, until supplanted by more full, if not more accurate works. upon the whole, sabin's great work, although so far from being finished, is invaluable as containing immeasurably more and fuller titles than any other american bibliography. it is also the only extensive work on the subject which covers all periods, although the books of the last thirty years must chiefly be excepted as not represented. as a work of reference, while its cost and scarcity may prevent the smaller public libraries from possessing it, it is always accessible in the libraries of the larger cities, where it is among the foremost works to be consulted in any research involving american publications, or books of any period or country relating to america, or its numerous sub-divisions. i may now mention, much more cursorily, some other bibliographies pertaining to our country. the late henry stevens, who died in , compiled a "catalogue of the american books in the library of the british museum." this was printed by the museum authorities in , and fills octavo pages. its editor was a highly accomplished bibliographer and book-merchant, born in vermont, but during the last forty years of his life resided in london, where he devoted himself to his profession with great learning and assiduity. he published many catalogues of various stocks of books collected by him, under such titles as "bibliotheca historica," "bibliotheca americana," etc., in which the books were carefully described, often with notes illustrating their history or their value. he became an authority upon rare books and early editions, and made a valuable catalogue of the bibles in the caxton exhibition at london, in , with bibliographical commentary. he was for years chief purveyor of the british museum library for its american book purchases, and aided the late james lenox in building up that rich collection of americana and editions of the scriptures which is now a part of the new york public library. his catalogue of the american books in the british museum, though now over forty years old, and supplanted by the full alphabetical catalogue of that entire library since published, is a valuable contribution to american bibliography. mr. stevens was one of the most acute and learned bibliographers i have known. he was a man of marked individuality and independent views; with a spice of eccentricity and humor, which crept into all his catalogues, and made his notes highly entertaining reading. besides his services to the british museum library, in building up its noble collection of americana, and in whose rooms he labored for many years, with the aid of panizzi and his successors, whom he aided in return, stevens collected multitudes of the books which now form the choice treasures of the lenox library, the carter brown library, at providence, the library of congress, and many more american collections. to go with him through any lot of americana, in one of his enterprising visits to new york, where he sometimes came to market his overflowing stores picked up in london and on the continent, was a rare treat. every book, almost, brought out some verbal criticism, anecdote or reminiscence of his book-hunting experiences, which began in america, and extended all over europe. he was not only an indefatigable collector, but a most industrious and accurate bibliographer, doing more work in that field, probably, than any other american. he wrote a singularly careful, though rapid hand, as plain and condensed as print, and in days before modern devices for manifolding writing were known, he copied out his invoices in duplicate or triplicate in his own hand, with titles in full, and frequent descriptive notes attached. his many catalogues are notable for the varied learning embodied. he was a most intelligent and vigilant book collector for more than forty years, his early labors embracing towns in new york and new england, as purveyor for material for peter force, of washington, whose american archives were then in course of preparation. among the library collectors who absorbed large portions of his gathered treasures, were james lenox, jared sparks, george livermore, john carter brown, henry c. murphy, george brinley, the american geographical society, and many historical societies. he was an authority on all the early voyages, and wrote much upon them. no one knew more about early bibles than henry stevens. his enterprise and ambition for success led him to bold and sometimes extensive purchases. he bought about , the library of baron von humboldt, and this and other large ventures embarrassed him much in later years. he became the owner of the franklin manuscripts, left in london by the great man's grandson, and collected during many years a library of frankliniana, which came to the library of congress when the franklin manuscripts were purchased for the state department in . he was proud of his country and his state, always signing himself "henry stevens, of vermont." his book-plate had engraved beneath his name, the titles, "g. m. b.: f. s. a." the last, of course, designated him as fellow of the society of antiquaries of london, but the first puzzled even his friends, until it was interpreted as signifying "green mountain boy." his brother used jocosely to assure me that it really meant "grubber of musty books." as to his prices for books, while some collectors complained of them as "very stiff," they appear, when compared with recent sales of americana, at auction and in sale catalogues, to be quite moderate. the late historian motley told me that mr. stevens charged more than any one for dutch books relating to america; but mr. motley's measure of values was gauged by the low prices of dutch booksellers which prevailed during his residence in the netherlands, for years before the keen demand from america had rendered the numerous dutch tracts of the west india company, etc., more scarce and of greater commercial value than they bore at the middle of this century. as treating of books by american authors, though not so much a complete bibliography of their works, as a critical history, with specimens selected from each writer, duyckinck's "cyclopaedia of american literature" deserves special mention. the last edition appeared at philadelphia, in , in two large quarto volumes. equally worthy of note is the compilation by e. c. stedman and ellen m. hutchinson, in eleven volumes, entitled "library of american literature," new york, - . a most convenient hand-book of bibliographical reference is oscar f. adams's "dictionary of american authors," boston, , which gives in a compact duodecimo volume, the name and period of nearly every american writer, with a brief list of his principal works, and their date of publication, in one alphabet. of notable catalogues of books relating to america, rather than of american publications, should be named white kennet's "bibliotheca americana primordia," the earliest known catalogue devoted to american bibliography, london, ; o. rich, catalogue of books relating to america, - , london, ; rich, "bibliotheca americana nova," books printed between and , two volumes, london, - ; h. harrisse, "bibliotheca americana vetustissima," new york, , and its supplement, paris, , both embracing rare early americana, published from to . this is a critically edited bibliography of the rarest books concerning america that appeared in the first half century after its discovery. the important field of american local history has given birth to many bibliographies. the earliest to be noted is h. e. ludewig's "literature of american local history," new york, . thirty years later came f. b. perkins's "check list for american local history," boston, ; followed by a. p. c. griffin's "index of articles upon american local history in historical collections," boston, , and by his "index of the literature of american local history in collections published in - ," boston, . closely allied to the catalogues of city, town, and county histories, come the bibliographies of genealogies and family histories, of which the last or th edition of d. s. durrie's "bibliographia genealogica americana; an alphabetical index to american genealogies in county and town histories, printed genealogies, and kindred works," albany, , is the most comprehensive and indispensable. this work gives us an alphabet of family names, under each of which are grouped the titles of books in which that special name is treated, with citation of the page. it also gives the name and date of publication of the special family genealogies which are separately printed, whether book or pamphlet, with number of pages in each. the work is by a librarian, to whose laborious diligence americans are deeply indebted. among other bibliographies of genealogy are munsell's "american genealogist: a catalogue of family histories," albany, . this work aims to give the titles of all separately printed american genealogies, in an alphabet of family names, giving titles in full, with place and year of publication, name of publisher, and collation, or number of pages. for the multitudinous public documents of the united states, consult b. p. poore's "descriptive catalogue of the government publications of the united states, - ," washington, , and f. a. crandall, check list of public documents, debates and proceedings from st to d congress ( - ), washington, ; also, comprehensive index to the publications of the united states government, - . the same--united states catalogue of public documents, to , washington, . several biennial or annual lists of united states documents have followed. as supplementing these extensive catalogues, we have in the appendix to the "american catalogue" of a list of united states government publications from to ; in that of a list from to ; and in that of a list covering the years to . a most important recent bibliography is found in h. c. bolton's "catalogue of scientific and technical periodicals, - ," washington, . there are also many sale catalogues of american books, with prices, some of which may be noted, _e. g._ j. r. smith, bibliotheca americana, london, ; f. müller, catalogue of books and pamphlets relating to america, amsterdam, , and later years. ternaux-compans, "bibliothèque américaine;" books printed before , paris, : p. trömel, "bibliothèque américaine," leipzig, : d. b. warden, "bibliothèque américaine," paris, : r. clarke & co., "bibliotheca americana," cincinnati, , , , , and . there are, besides, important catalogues of some private libraries, devoted wholly or chiefly to books relating to america. among these, the most extensive and costly is john r. bartlett's catalogue of the library of j. carter brown, of providence, in four sumptuous volumes, with fac-similes of early title-pages, of which bibliography only fifty copies were printed. it is entitled, "bibliotheca americana: a catalogue of books relating to north and south america," - , vols. large vo., providence, - . the carter brown library is now the richest collection of americana in any private library in the world. among catalogues of libraries sold by auction, and composed largely of american books, are those of john a. rice, new york, : w. menzies, new york, : george brinley, in five volumes, sold to : henry c. murphy, new york, : s. l. m. barlow, new york, : and brayton ives, new york, . the wide field of bibliography of english literature has given birth to many books. only the more comprehensive can here be noted. r. watt's bibliotheca britannica, in four quarto volumes, edinburgh, , although now old, is still an indispensable work of reference, giving multitudes of titles of english books and pamphlets not found in any other bibliography. it of course abounds in errors, most of which have been copied in allibone's dictionary of english literature. this extensive work is a monument of labor, to which the industrious compiler devoted many years, dying of too intense study, at glasgow, at the early age of forty-five, in the year . the issue of the work in , being thus posthumous, its errors and omissions are largely accounted for by the author's inability to correct the press. the plan of the work is unique. vols. and contain the alphabet of authors and titles, with dates and publishers' prices when known. vols. and contain an alphabet of subjects, in which the titles re-appear, with a key alphabet in italic letters attached to each title, by which reference is made to the author-catalogue, at a fixed place, where all the works of the author are recorded. the work is printed in small type, with two crowded columns on a page, thus containing an enormous amount of matter. the key is quickly learned, and by its aid, and the alphabet of subjects, the librarian can find out the authors of many anonymous books. watt is the only general bibliography of english literature which gives most of the obscure writers and their works. lowndes' bibliographer's manual of english literature, in its second edition, enlarged by h. g. bohn, is a most indispensable bibliography. this work is arranged alphabetically by authors' names, and aims to record all important books published in great britain, from the earliest times to about a. d. . it is in eleven parts, or vols. mo. of very portable size, lond., - . while it gives collations of the more important works, with publishers and dates, it fails to record many editions of the same work. its quoted prices represent the original publisher's price, with very frequent additions of the sale prices obtained at book auctions. the chief defect of lowndes' manual is its total lack of any index of subjects. s. austin allibone's "critical dictionary of english literature," philadelphia, - , volumes, with supplement by john f. kirk, in vols., philadelphia, , is a copious reference book, which, in spite of its many errors and crudities, should be in all libraries. it contains in abbreviated form most of the titles in watt and lowndes, with the addition of american authors, and of british books published since the period covered by lowndes. the three volumes of allibone accompany the titles of works by noted authors with many critical remarks, copied mostly from reviews and literary journals. this feature of the book, which makes it rather a work of literary history and criticism than a bibliography pure and simple, has been dropped in mr. kirk's supplement, which thus becomes properly a bibliography. the publications of england and america, from about to , are more fully chronicled in this work of kirk than in any other bibliography. the important "english catalogue of books," from a. d. to , in vols., with its valuable index of subjects, in vols., from up to , is so constantly useful as to be almost indispensable in a public library. it records, in provokingly brief one-line titles, with publisher's name, year of issue, and price, all books published in great britain whose titles could be secured. it thus subserves the same purpose for english publications, which the american catalogue fulfills for those of the united states. both are in effect greatly condensed bibliographies, enabling the librarian to locate most of the published literature in the english language for many years back. the english catalogue, from to date, is supplemented by its annual issues, entitled "the english catalogue of books for ," etc. i have said that accuracy should be one of the cardinal aims of the librarian: and this because in that profession it is peculiarly important. bibliography is a study which approaches very nearly to the rank of an exact science; and the practice of it, in application to the daily work of the librarian, is at once a school of accuracy, and a test of ability. a habit of analytical methods should be assiduously cultivated, without which much time will be lost in fruitless searches in the wrong books to find what one wants. as a single illustration of this need of method, suppose that you want to find the title of a certain book with its full description, a want likely to occur every hour in the day, and sometimes many times an hour. the book is perhaps sir walter scott's life of napoleon,-- vols., london, , and your object is to trace its title, published price, etc., among the numerous bibliographies of literature. you begin by a simple act of analysis--thus. this is a london, not an american book--hence it is useless to look in any american catalogue. it is written in english, so you are dispensed from looking for it in any french or other foreign bibliography. its date is , london. therefore among the three leading english reference books in bibliography, which are watt's bibliotheca britannica, lowndes' bibliographer's manual, and the english catalogue, you at once eliminate the former as not containing the book. why do you do this? because watt's great work, in four huge quartos, though invaluable for the early english literature, stops with books published before the date of its issue, . your book is published in , and of course could not appear in a catalogue of . shall you refer then to the english catalogue for its title? no, because the five volumes of that useful work (though some imperfect book lists were published earlier), begin with the year , and the book you seek bears date of . you are then reduced, by this simple process of analyzing in your mind the various sources of information, and rejecting all except one, namely lowndes' bibliographer's manual, to a search in a single catalogue for your title. this simplifies matters greatly, and saves all the time which might otherwise have been lost in hunting fruitlessly through several works of reference. lowndes' invaluable manual was published in , and though a second edition, edited by bohn, appeared thirty years later, it does not contain books published after that date, unless they are later editions of works issued earlier. you find in it your scott's napoleon, date , with its published price, £ . . , and an account of other later editions of the book. of course you will observe that it is necessary to know what period of years is covered by the various bibliographies, and to carry those dates perpetually in your memory, in order thus to simplify searches, and save time. once learned, you will have the comfort of knowing where to turn for light upon any book, and the faculty of accurate memory will reward the pains taken to acquire it. i must not omit to include, in noting the more useful and important english bibliographies, the very copious list of works appended to each biography of british writers, in the new "dictionary of national biography," lond., - . this extensive work is nearly finished in about volumes, and constitutes a rich thesaurus of information about all british authors, except living ones. living characters, considered notable, and brief note of their books, are recorded in "men and women of the time," th ed. london, --but this book, although highly useful, is far from being a bibliography. i should not omit to mention among useful librarians' aids, the "book prices current; record of prices at which books have been sold at auction." this london publication began with the year . no sales are reported of books bringing less than one pound sterling. the book-sales of were reported in of this issue, and the book is published in each case the next year. the similar catalogue entitled "american book prices current" was begun with , being compiled from the sale catalogues of american auctioneers, for that year, and the prices brought at auction in new york, boston, philadelphia, and chicago, are recorded for all notable books, but limited to works bringing as much as $ or upward. five years' reports, in as many volumes, have now been issued, and the publication is to be continued. its utility of course consists in informing librarians or collectors of the most recent auction values of books. at the same time, a word of caution is required, since it is not safe to judge of average commercial values, from any isolated bid at an auction sale. a very useful classed catalogue, published by the british museum library, and edited by g. k. fortescue, an assistant librarian, is the so-called "subject-index to modern works," of which three volumes have appeared, beginning with the accessions of - , each covering five years additions of new works, in all european languages, to that library. the third volume embraces the years to , and appeared in . as this is not confined to works in english, it should be classed with universal bibliography. as containing most of the latest books of any note, all three volumes are important aids to research. they are printed in large type, in which it is a refreshment to the eye to read titles, after the small and obscure print of watt's bibliotheca britannica, and the but little better type of lowndes' manual, and of the english catalogue. a collation of pages is also added in most cases, and the importance of this can hardly be overrated. these catalogues of the british museum library abound in pamphlets, english, french, german, italian, etc., evincing how large a share of attention is given to the minor literature coming from the press in the more recent years. w. h. d. adams's "dictionary of english literature," london, , and later, in a compact volume, gives authors and titles of the more important english and american books. also, in the same alphabet, an index to the titles, as well as authors, by the first word, and to many sayings or quotations, with their original sources. it is a highly useful book, although its small bulk leaves it far from being a comprehensive one. chambers' cyclopaedia of english literature, in vols., london, , has an account of the most notable british writers, with specimens of their works, and forms what may be termed an essential part of the equipment of every public library. the library association of the united kingdom, since , the date of its organization, has published transactions and proceedings; also, since , "the library," a periodical with bibliographical information. it may be noted, without undue expression of pride, that america first set the example of an organized national association of librarians (founded in ) followed the same year by a journal devoted to library interests. that extremely useful periodical, the _library journal_, is now in its twenty-fourth volume. its successive issues have contained lists of nearly all new bibliographical works and catalogues published, in whatever language. the london publisher's circular, first established in , is a weekly organ of the book-publishing trade, aiming to record the titles of all british publications as they appear from the press. it gives, in an alphabet by authors' names, the titles in much abbreviated form, with publisher, size in inches, collation, price, and date, with a fairly good index of titles or subjects, in the same alphabet. covering much the same ground, as a publishers' periodical, is "the bookseller," issued monthly since , with lists of the new issues of the british press, and critical notices. in addition to the english catalogue, there is the extensive whitaker's "reference catalogue of current literature," published every year, which now makes two large volumes, and embraces the trade catalogues of english publishers, bound up in alphabetical order, with a copious index, by authors and titles, in one alphabet, prefixed. while on english bibliographies, i must note the important work on local history, by j. p. anderson, "book of british topography," london, . this gives, in an alphabet of counties, titles of all county histories or descriptive works of england, scotland, ireland, and wales, followed in each county by a list of town histories or topographical works. the arrangement under each town is chronological. its only want is a collation of the books. british genealogy, or the history of families, is treated bibliographically in g. w. marshall's "the genealogist's guide," london, , which gives an alphabet of family names, with references in great detail to county and town histories, pedigrees, heralds' visitations, genealogies, etc., all over great britain, in which any family is treated. the wide field of foreign bibliography, by countries, cannot here be entered upon, nor can i now treat of the still more extensive range of works devoted to the bibliography of various subjects. index. access to shelves, - accuracy, rarity of, - adams (o. f.) dictionary of american authors, adams (w. h. d.) dictionary of english literature, administration, faculty of, advertising, library, - aids to readers, - alexandrian library, , allibone (s. a.) critical dictionary of english literature, - alphabeting titles, , - american book prices, current, - , american catalogue, - , - american library association catalogue of , books, , foundation of, list of novelists, on open shelves, on size-notation, americana, bibliographies of, - rare, - what are, anderson (j. p.) book of british topography, arabic figures, art of reading, - art, lesson from, assistants in libraries appointment of, - qualifications of, - regulations for, - astor library, n. y., , mutilation in, , auction sales, - , - , authorship, - bad books, - , - bartlett (j. r.) catalogue of j. carter brown library, bay psalm book, beckford library sale, , - beecher (h. w.) on books, bibliography, - accessibility of, - bibliographies of, - classification of, - definition of, earliest american, early works in, no full american, of american publications, - selection of works in, binding of books, - , - colors in, desiderata in, how a bibliomaniac binds, importance of, lettering titles, , - machine methods, - marbling and gilding, - , materials for, rebinding methods, biography, - , discrepancies in, - living characters, blake (a. v.) american booksellers' trade-list catalogue, boccaccio of , sale of, bolton (h. c.) catalogue of scientific and technical periodicals, book binding, - , - book buying, - book covering, book-marks, book plates, - , - book prices current, - , - american, - , book shops, second hand, - , book supports, , book worms, books, cheap and poor editions of, books, choice of, - books for public libraries, selection of, - , books of reference, , - books, three classes of, books which have helped me, books,--_see_ reading bores, how to treat, boston athenaeum library, , early pamphlets in, boston public library, appointments in, languages demanded, bowker (r. r.) american catalogue, - publishers' weekly, british museum library appointments in, catalogue of, - , its defects, classification, mutilation in, - trustees of, brown (j. carter) library of americana, brunet (j. c.) manuel du libraire, bry (de) voyages, , buildings, library, - cost of, light in, location of, - many mistakes in, materials for, periodical room, shelving, bulwer-lytton (e. l.) writings of, , burnham (t. o. h. p.), bury, richard de, buying of books, - methods of, - calf binding, campbell (john), capitals, how to be used in catalogues, , card catalogue system, its defects, - how obviated, - cards, for catalogues, carlyle (thomas) life of cromwell, on librarians, on reading, carnegie (andrew) gifts to libraries, catalogue of all books printed in the u. s. , - catalogues, - abridging titles, - accession, auction, - card system for, chronology of authors, , , classed, - , collations in, cross references, cutter's rules for, deficiencies of american, - dictionary, - , - english, , errors in, - , imprints, how given, kinds of, of british museum library, - , printing, advantages of, - rules for, - sale, value of, - , shelf, size-notation in, - use of capitals in, , caxton's press, books, census of wealth, futility of, - chambers' cyclopaedia of english literature, children's books, , reading-rooms, - choice of books, - , , chronology of authors, , classic authors, classification of books, - application of, bibliothèque nationale, system of, british museum, system of, brunet's system of, close classification, - conflict of systems, - crunden's verses on, cutter, system of, dewey, system of, fletcher, system of, fixed shelf location, library of congress, system of, cleaning books, - , - clergymen, some book-abusing, , cleveland public library fiction experience, methods of selections, cogswell (j. g.), collation, , collier, j. payne, as a cataloguer, congressional library--_see_ library of congress copy tax, origin of, rationale of, , copyright and libraries, - aggregate copyrights entered, and library of congress, - books not entered, duration of, foundation of, , history of, in the constitution, international, why, - origin of, perpetual, , provisions of, counting a library, , courtesy, in libraries, , croton bug, crowding of books on shelves, - crunden (f. m.) verses on classification, cutter (c. a.) boston athenaeum catalogue, classification, rules for catalogue, sabin's bibliotheca americana, cutting edges, - , damage to books, _see_ injuries damp, an enemy of books, dates, errors in, - dates of books, ancient expression of, - decimal system, , denis (f.) nouveau manuel de bibliographie, - dewey (melvil) classification, remark by, dictionary catalogues, - , - dictionary of national biography, , dime novels, , documents (u. s. public) catalogues, dogs-earing books, "dont's," list of proper warnings, duplicates in libraries, , - durrie (d. s.) bibliographia genealogica americana, dust, in libraries, - to remove from books, duyckink's cyclopaedia of american literature, eames (w.) continuation of sabin's bibliotheca americana, editions, to be always noted, first, , , education, , - egypt, libraries of, - elzevirs, , emerson (r. w.) cited, , encyclopaedia britannica, scope and limitations of, , - , enemies of books, - english catalogue, - , , uses dictionary form, errors in books, - , in librarians, - essays, , facsimile reproduction, - fiction, , - , fires, in libraries, - , , destruction of books by, - first editions, , , fletcher (w. i.), classification, index to periodicals, force (peter) historical library of, rich in pamphlets, formation of libraries, - franklin (b.) collections of frankliniana, his manuscripts, on philadelphia library, french language, need of, - , furnishings of libraries, gas, an enemy of books, genealogy, bibliographies of, - , george iv, library of, georgi (t.) allgemeines europäisches bücher-lexikon, gesner (c.) bibliotheca universalis, gould (jay) history of delaware county, n. y., gowans (william), graesse, trésor des livres rares et précieux, grangerising, greece, libraries of, - griffin (a. p. c.) indexes of american local history, grolier bindings, , grolier club, n. y., , growoll (a.) book trade bibliography in the u. s., publishers' weekly, hain (l.) repertorium bibliographicum, halliwell-phillipps (j. o.), privately printed books, harris (w. t.) experience with memory, harrisse (h.) bibliotheca americana, harvard university library, haven (s. f.) catalogue of american publications, - , heat, an enemy of books, heber library, helps to readers, - history, - , of libraries, - (local) bibliography, , homer, , , horace, perfection of his odes, humboldt (baron von), humors of the library, - hurst (j. f.) on choice books, illustrated books, , , , - immoral books, , , index expurgatorius, , indexes, use of, - how to make, - substitutes for, injuries to books, _see_ crowding, cutting, dogs-earing, enemies, ink, margins, mutilations, soiling, tracing, torn leaves ink, use of, how removed, - inquiries, innumerable, - international copyright, - iron construction, jöcher (c. g.) allgemeines gelehrten-lexikon, juvenile books, , , kelly (j.) american catalogue, - , khayyam (omar), kirk (j. f.) supplement to allibone, - , la bedoyère, french revolution collection, labelling books, - ladies' reading-rooms, languages, foreign, - la serna de santander, dictionnaire bibliographique, law books, binding, letters, - leypoldt (f.) books of all time, librarian a constant aid, ancient idea of, as an author, - as preserver and restorer of books, - benefits to, of inquiries, high standard for, indispensable, how to become, , intercourse with readers, librarian's dream, qualifications of, - accuracy, business habits, , courtesy, , energy and industry, foreign languages, - good temper, habits of order, - health, impartial liberality, - knowledge of books, love of his work, patience inexhaustible, sound common sense, tact unfailing, reserve in recommending books, "who reads is lost," , woes of a, - librarianship, attractions of, , - drawbacks attending, - opens avenues to growth, school of human nature, libraries, ancient, of clay, - and copyright, - and schools, , and universities, , annual reports of, - catalogues of, - classification of, - exaggeration of volumes in, - formation of, - founded by individual gift, - history of, - historical, list of, over , vols., - mercantile, monastic, - picture of ancient, poetry of, - professional, prompt service in, - readers in, , - special report on, , state libraries, - statistics of american, subscription libraries, ten largest, travelling libraries, - uses of, - library, how to count a, , library, humors of the, library, poetry of the, library advertising, - library association of united kingdom, library buildings and furnishings, - _see_ buildings library bulletins, library commissioners, library committees, - , library donations, library journal, n. y., - , library laws (state), , library of congress and copyright books, - , appointments in, joint committee on, our national conservatory of books, - restriction of mss. and rare books, sketch of its history, - library regulations, - , - library reports, library science schools, library trustees or boards of managers, - literature, history of, - loudon (a.) history of indian wars, lowndes (w. t.) bibliographer's manual, macaulay (t. b.) memory, maittaire (m.) annales typographici, marbling, margins, writing or marking on, , - , mazarin bible, , memory, the faculty of, - attention and association, its corner-stones, - cardinal qualification of a librarian, - discursive reading impairs it, - improvement of, - intuitive memory, local memory, verbal memory, migne (j. p. _abbé_) patrologie, milton, , , , , mnemonic systems, - morocco binding, morris (william) kelmscott press, mutilation of books, , - penal laws for, - posting offenders, new hampshire library law, newspapers, _see_ periodicals new york mercantile library, selections for, new york public library, notation of book sizes, of book dates, , novels, _see_ fiction nuremberg chronicle, omar (caliph) sentence imputed to, , , omniscience, no human, open shelves, - american library association on, an open question, benefits of, - , evils of, - international library conference on, - opinions on books, ostend manifesto, - pamphlets, literature of, - binding of, - british museum, wealth in, , classification of, , definitions of, dignity and power of, embarrassments of, great works printed as, how to acquire, la bedoyère collection of, peter force, collection of, swift disappearance of, thomason collection of, panzer (g. w.) annales typographici, parchment, peignot (g.) repertoire bibliographique universelle, dictionnaire des livres condamnés, periodicals, literature of, - binding of, - cardinal importance of, - , , , check list for, compared with books, completeness of, - continuous reading of impairs the memory, indexes to, - lettering by poole index, limited library circulation, - newspapers abuses of, destruction of, filing for readers' use, library notices in, - mutilation of, number of, , over-reading of, , percentage of, to books, syndicate publication, value of, - perkins (f. b.) check-list for american local history, petzholdt (j.) bibliotheca bibliographica, philadelphia library company's library, - philadelphia mercantile library fire, - phillipps (sir t.) privately printed books, plato, reading of, , plutarch's lives, , poetical quotations, , - poetry, - , poetry of the library, - politics in libraries, poole (w. f.) plan of library building, on ladies' reading-rooms, poole's indexes to periodical literature, poor richard's almanac, pratt institute library, thefts in, preparation for the shelves, - press, the, and the library, - prices of books, , - , - , - , - privately printed books, - , problems, insoluble, - pseudonyms, - publishers' circular (london), publishers' weekly, n. y., qualifications of librarians, - questions asked, innumerable, , , - quotations, search for, , rare books, , , , - causes of rarity, - mere age not a cause, readers, aids to, - classification of, - , - , , - favoritism among, limitations of aid, , reading, art of, - best, not the latest, - choice of, - , - , - formative power of, - passion for, - inspiration of, - librarian's, , - , methods of, - , - the literal, the intuitive, novel reading, over-much reading of newspapers, , perils of too great absorption in, - pleasures of, - reading aloud, - , taste in, time to read, reading rooms, reclamation of books, - recommending books, to be done sparingly, , reference, books of, , - religion, questions about, , reports, librarians', - comprehensive, printing of, reserved books, - restoration and reclamation of books, - rich (o.) bibliotheca americana, roman libraries, roman numerals, , - roorbach (o. a.) bibliotheca americana, - , rubber bands, untrustworthy, rules, library, - call slips or tickets, circulation, limit, - done into verse, - hours, prompt service, - registration, vacations, rush (james) bequest to philadelphia library co., - ruskin on collecting books, russia binding, sabin (j.) bibliotheca americana, - school district libraries a failure, - schools and libraries, - science, books of, , scott's napoleon, bibliographical object-lesson, - second-hand book shops, - selection of books, - , _see_ choice of books shakespeare, , , , , sheep binding, shelves, library, access to, preparation of books for, shelves, open, - signatures, size-notation of books, - sizing paper, smith's historie of virginia, smithsonian institution collection in library of congress, copyright privilege of, soiling of books, how removed, spelling, facility in, stack system, , stamps in books, - , state libraries, - appointments in, stealing of books, _see_ thefts stedman (e. c.) library of american literature, stein (h.) manuel de bibliographie, - stevens (henry) characteristics of, , story (a) about stories, - style, importance of, - , sample of prose run mad, sunday-school books, syndicate publishing, - teaching, tennyson (alfred) early editions of poems, thackeray (w. m.) curious question of, thefts, book, , - leniency in case of, - methods of reclamation, - time, use of, - , - titles, abridgment of, - alphabeting of, - entry of, in catalogues, - headings of, lettering of, - , - use of capitals in, , , titles of novels, done into verse, - torn leaves, how repaired, tracing of maps or plates, travels, , tree calf binding, trübner (n.) bibliographical guide to american literature, trustees, boards of library, , - turner's illustrations, , ulster co. gazette, , universal catalogue, universities, use of the library to, - university libraries, uses of libraries, - vallée (l.) bibliographie des bibliographies, vellum binding, voyages, , walpole (horace) strawberry hill press, washing soiled books, , watt (r.) bibliotheca britannica, - wealth, all estimates of, futile, - winsor (justin) a prolific author, on librarians' instructions, woes of a librarian, - worcester, massachusetts, public library methods of selection, theft in, use of by schools, yale university library, books for authors authors and publishers [sidenote: authors and publishers] a manual of suggestions for beginners in literature comprising a description of publishing methods and arrangements, directions for the preparation of mss. for the press, explanations of the details of book-manufacturing, instructions for proof-reading, specimens of typography, the text of the united states copyright law, and information concerning international copyrights, together with general hints for authors. by g. h. p. and j. b. p. _seventh edition, re-written with additional material._ _ °, gilt top_ _net, $ . _ chief contents part i.--publishing arrangements--books published at the risk and expense of the publisher--books published for the account of the author, _i. e._, at the author's risk and expense, or in which he assumes a portion of the investment--publishing arrangements for productions first printed in periodicals or cyclopædias--the literary agent--authors' associations--advertising--on securing copyright. part ii.--the making of books--composition--electrotyping--presswork--bookbinding--illustrations. "full of valuable information for authors and writers. . . . a most instructive and excellent manual."--george wm. curtis in _harper's magazine_. "this handy and useful book is written with perfect fairness and abounds in hints which writers will do well to 'make a note of.' . . . there is a host of other matters treated succinctly and lucidly which it behoves beginners in literature to know, and we can recommend it most heartily to them."--_london spectator._ g. p. putnam's sons, new york and london by geo. haven putnam * * * * * authors and their public in ancient times a sketch of literary conditions and of the relations with the public of literary producers, from the earliest times to the fall of the roman empire. second edition, revised, °, gilt top, $ . . the book abounds in information, is written in a delightfully succinct and agreeable manner, with apt comparisons that are often humorous, and with scrupulous exactness to statement, and without a sign of partiality either from an author's or a publisher's point of view.--_new york times._ books and their makers during the middle ages a study of the conditions of the production and distribution of literature from the fall of the roman empire to the close of the seventeenth century. in two volumes, °, cloth extra (sold separately), each $ . vol. i., - --vol. ii., - . it is seldom that such wide learning, such historical grasp and insight, have been employed in their service.--_atlantic monthly._ it is a book to be studied rather than merely praised. . . . that its literary style is perfect is acceptable as a matter of course, and equally of course is it that the information it contains bears the stamp of historical verification.--_n. y. sun._ the question of copyright comprising the text of the copyright law of the united states, and a summary of the copyright laws at present in force in the chief countries of the world; together with a report of the legislation now pending in great britain, a sketch of the contest in the united states, - , in behalf of international copyright, and certain papers on the development of the conception of literary property and on the results of the american law of . second edition, revised, with additions, and with the record of legislation brought down to march, . °, gilt top, $ . . a perfect arsenal of facts and arguments, carefully elaborated and very effectively presented. . . . altogether it constitutes an extremely valuable history of the development of a very intricate right of property, and it is as interesting as it is valuable.--_n. y. nation._ * * * * * g. p. putnam's sons new york: west rd street. london: bedford st., strand. by moses coit tyler * * * * * a history of american literature during the colonial time new edition, revised, in two volumes. volume i.-- - . volume ii.-- - . each $ . . agawam edition, vols. in one. °, half leather, $ . . "in the execution of his work thus far, professor tyler has evinced a skill in the arrangement of his materials, and a masterly power of combination, which will at once place it in a very eminent rank among american historical compositions. it is not so much the history of a special development of literature, as a series of profound and brilliant studies on the character and genius of a people of whom that literature was the natural product. the work betrays acute philosophical insight, a rare power of historical research, and a cultivated literary habit, which was perhaps no less essential than the two former conditions, to its successful accomplishment. the style of the author is marked by vigor, originality, comprehensiveness, and a curious instinct in the selection of words. in this latter respect, though not in the moulding of sentences, the reader may perhaps be reminded of the choice and fragrant vocabulary of washington irving, whose words alone often leave an exquisite odor like the perfume of sweet-brier and arbutus."--george ripley, in _the tribune_. the literary history of the american revolution - two volumes, large octavo. sold separately. volume i.-- - . volume ii.-- - . each $ . . this work is the result of an altogether new and original treatment of the american revolution. the outward history of that period has been many times written, and is now, by a new school of american historians, being freshly re-written in the light of larger evidence, and after a more disinterested and judicial method. in the present work, for the first time in a systematic and complete way, is set forth the inward history of our revolution,--the history of its ideas, its spiritual moods, its passions, as these uttered themselves at the time in the writings of the two parties of americans who either promoted or resisted that great movement. three men of letters chapters in literary biography and criticism devoted to george berkeley, timothy dwight, and joel barlow. °, gilt top, $ . . "though more lengthy than most of the sketches in professor tyler's well-known 'history,' these monographs have much of the brevity of their original purpose; and they are marked by the same picturesqueness of treatment, the same vivacity of expression, and the same felicity of statement, that characterize the author's larger volumes."--_the nation._ * * * * * g. p. putnam's sons, new york and london. language. * * * * * some common errors of speech. suggestions for the avoiding of certain classes of errors, together with examples of bad and of good usage. by alfred g. compton, professor in college of the city of new york. ° $ . "the book calls up many interesting, not to say fascinating, lapses from strict grammar, and is very valuable. in its index expurgatorius will be found many surprises by the self-supposed learned."--_chicago times-herald._ a simple grammar of english now in use. by john earle, a.m., ll.d., professor of anglo-saxon, university of oxford, author of "english prose: its elements, history, and usage." ° $ . "the book is a clear, careful, and scholarly treatise on the english language and its use, rather than a work of science. it is a book that will be valuable to teachers and to students of language everywhere."--_washington times._ the english language and english grammar. an historical study of the sources, development, and analogies of the language, and of the principles covering its usages. illustrated by copious examples by writers of all periods. by samuel ramsey. ° $ . "mr. ramsey's work will appeal especially to those that desire to know something more about the history and philology, the growth and mistakes of their native tongue than is given in the ordinary text-books."--_baltimore sun._ orthometry. a treatise on the art of versification and the technicalities of poetry, with a new and complete rhyming dictionary. by r. f. brewer, b.a. °, pp. xv. + $ . "it is a good book for its purpose, lucid, compact, and well arranged. it lays bare, we believe, the complete anatomy of poetry. it affords interesting quotations, in the way of example, and interesting comments by distinguished critics upon certain passages from the distinguished poets."--_n. y. sun._ manual of linguistics. an account of general and english phonology. by john clark, a.m. °, pp. lxiii. + $ . "mr. clark has traced the english language back to its foundations in his work 'manual of linguistics.' it is an interesting theme, and his book will prove very useful for reference, for he has culled from many sources and gone over a wide territory."--_detroit free press._ composition in the school-room. a practical treatise. by e. galbraith. °, cloth $ . "the author has drawn fully from the best writers on the subject, and her book is an epitome of the best thought of all."--_boston transcript._ * * * * * g. p. putnam's sons, new york and london. transcriber's notes: . punctuation for abbreviations such as per cent., viz. has been standardised. . there are spelling inconsistencies in proper and place names as well as within accented characters and hyphenated words. these have been left as printed. . obvious punctuation errors have been corrected. . the remaining corrections are: page , "edinburg" changed to "edinburgh" page , "faciliate" changed to "facilitate" page , "conspiciously" changed to "conspicuously" page , "responsibile" changed to "responsible" page , "reasearches" changed to "researches" page , "adminstration" changed to "administration" page , "substracting" changed to "subtracting" page , "univeral" changed to "universal" page , "ieft" changed to "left" page , "pyschology" changed to "psychology" page , "polittics" changed to "politics" page , "at" changed to "as" page , "thus" changed to "this" page , "vocabularly" changed to "vocabulary" page , "columbiau" changed to "columbian" page , "approxmiately" changed to "approximately" page , "guaged" changed to "gauged" page , "duyckincks" changed to "duyckinck's" page , "meuzies" changed to "menzies" page , "i" changed to " " page , "pubished" changed to "published" page , "allgemeinas" changed to "allgemeines" [transcriber's note: obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. the author's spelling has been maintained.] the building of a book a series of practical articles written by experts in the various departments of book making and distributing with an introduction by theodore l. de vinne edited by frederick h. hitchcock [illustration: editor's arm.] the grafton press publishers new york copyright, , by the grafton press. published december, . dedicated to readers and lovers of books throughout the country foreword "the building of a book" had its origin in the wish to give practical, non-technical information to readers and lovers of books. i hope it will also be interesting and valuable to those persons who are actually engaged in book making and selling. all of the contributors are experts in their respective departments, and hence write with authority. i am exceedingly grateful to them for their very generous efforts to make the book a success. the editor. articles and contributors page introduction by theodore l. de vinne, of theodore l. de vinne & company, printers, new york. the author by george w. cable, author of "grandissimes," "the cavalier," and other books. resident of northampton, massachusetts. the literary agent by paul r. reynolds, literary agent, new york, representing several english publishing houses and american authors. the literary adviser by francis w. halsey, formerly editor of the _new york times saturday review of books_, and literary adviser for d. appleton & company. now literary adviser for funk & wagnalls company, new york. the manufacturing department by lawton l. walton, in charge of the manufacturing department of the macmillan company, publishers, new york. the making of type by l. boyd benton, mechanical manager of the jersey city factory of the american type founders' company. hand composition and electrotyping by j. stearns cushing, of j. s. cushing & company, norwood, massachusetts, one of the three concerns forming the norwood press. composition by the linotype machine by frederick j. warburton, treasurer of the mergenthaler linotype machine company. composition by the monotype machine by paul nathan, a member of wood & nathan, new york, selling agents for the lanston monotype machine. proof-reading by george l. miller, with the charles francis press, new york. paper making by herbert w. mason, of s. d. warren & company, paper makers, boston, massachusetts. presswork by walter j. berwick, of berwick & smith company, norwood, massachusetts, one of the three concerns constituting the norwood press. the printing press by otto l. raabe, with r. hoe & company, new york, printing press manufacturers. printing ink by james a. ullman, of sigmund ullman company, ink makers, new york. the printer's roller by albert s. burlingham, president of the national roller company, new york. the illustrator by charles d. williams, artist, new york. half-tone, line, and color plates by emlyn m. gill, president of the gill engraving company, new york. the wax process by robert d. servoss, engraver of maps, etc., by the wax process, new york. making intaglio plates by elmer latham, manager of the mechanical department of m. kramer & company, photogravure makers, brooklyn, new york. printing intaglio plates by george w. h. ritchie, printer of photogravure plates, etchings, etc., new york. the gelatine process by emil jacobi, manager of the factory of the campbell art company, new york, and elizabeth, new jersey. lithography by charles wilhelms, late of sackett-wilhelms lithographing and printing company, brooklyn, new york. cover designing by amy richards, artist, new york, her specialty being cover designs. the cover stamps by george becker, of becker brothers company, die cutters, new york. book cloths by henry p. kendall, of the holliston mills, book cloth manufacturers, norwood, massachusetts. book leathers by ellery c. bartlett, of louis dejonge & company, dressers and importers of book leathers, new york. the binding by jesse fellowes tapley, president of j. f. tapley company, binders, new york. special bindings by henry blackwell, fine binder, new york. copyrighting by frederick h. hitchcock, member of the new york bar; president of the grafton press, publishers, new york. publicity by vivian burnett, formerly in charge of the publicity department of mcclure, phillips & company, publishers, new york. reviewing and criticising by walter littlefield, a member of the staff of the _new york times saturday review of books_, and literary correspondent of the _chicago record-herald_, and other papers. the travelling salesman by harry a. thompson, formerly representing john lane, and small, maynard & company, publishers. now one of the associate editors of the _saturday evening post_, philadelphia. selling at wholesale by joseph e. bray, formerly with a. c. mcclurg & company, wholesalers, chicago. now with the outing publishing company, new york. selling at retail by warren snyder, manager of the book stores of john wanamaker, philadelphia and new york. selling by subscription by charles s. olcott, manager of the subscription department of messrs. houghton, mifflin & company, new york. selling at auction by john anderson, jr., president of the anderson auction company, new york. selecting for a public library by arthur e. bostwick, chief of the circulation department of the new york public library. rare and second-hand books by charles e. goodspeed, dealer in rare and second-hand books, boston. the building of a book introduction by theodore l. de vinne. to the hasty observer printing seems the simplest of arts or crafts. the small boy who has been taught to spell can readily arrange lettered blocks of wood in readable words, and that arrangement is rated by many as the great feature of printing. with his toy printing-press he can stamp paper upon inked type in so deft a manner that admiring friends may say the print is good enough for anybody. the elementary processes of printing are indeed so simple that they might have justified dogberry in adding typography to the accomplishments of the "reading and writing that come by nature." with this delusion comes the desire for amateur performance. men who would not undertake to make a coat or a pair of shoes are confident of their ability to make or to direct the making of a book. in real practice this apparent simplicity disappears. commercial printing is never done quickly or cheaply by amateur methods. the printing-house that undertakes to print miscellaneous books for publishers must be provided with tons of type of different faces and sizes. it needs type-making and type-setting machines of great complexity, printing-presses of great size and cost, and much curious machinery in the departments of electrotyping and bookbinding; but these machines, intended to relieve the drudgery of monotonous manual labor, do not supplant the necessity for a higher skill in craftsmanship. they really make that craftsmanship more difficult. the difficulty of good book-making is greater now than ever. improvements made during the last century in processes of engraving and the making of ink and paper and the increasing exactions of critical readers and reviewers, compel a closer attention to the petty detail of manufacture. the novice soon finds that some of the methods recently introduced are incompatible with other methods. for the production of a superior book practical experience and theoretical study of all processes are needed to harmonize their antagonisms. one has but to read over the headlines of the foregoing table of contents to note how many different arts, crafts, and sciences are required in the construction of a well-made book. a reading of these articles makes one understand the scope and limitations of each art and the necessity for its proper adjustment in its relation to the workmanship of other crafts with which it may be associated. for this purpose this book has been prepared. it is believed that a compilation of the experience of men eminent in their respective departments will be a useful guide to the amateur in authorship or the novice in publication. the author by george w. cable. in a certain fine and true sense books of imaginative writing--and the present writer cannot undertake to speak of any others--are not built, but born. nevertheless, there has always been an unlucky tendency on the part both of writers and readers to overstate this non-mechanical nature of poetic works, whether in prose or verse, and to give the processes of this production that air of mystery--not to say miracle--in which art is always tempted to veil its methods. there is an anatomy of the book, which is not its life, but is just as real as its life, and only less essential. there is an architecture awaiting the book while it is still in its author's brain; and for want of due regard to this architecture's laws, for want of a sound and shapely anatomy, many a book misses the success--not commercial only, but spiritual as well--which the amount of toil and talent spent on it ought to earn. and now that reading has become so democratic that the fortunes of a book of the imagination are largely in the hands of the crowd, which cares nothing and feels nothing as to grace of form and tone in what it reads, the commercial risk in the physical deformities of a book is not so great as the risk of its spiritual failure. now, too, that the magazines have made it so very desirable to the author that his work should be printed first in them, their mechanical limitations, which are legion, bear upon the author and often seem to him (and his personal friends) to bear cruelly. this difficulty is not a flattering or gentle discipline, nor are its discriminations always good or always bad. it works almost as crudely as that of the stage works on the theatrical dramatist. a cunning subservience to it covers a multitude of sins, and often achieves for the literary craftsman place and preference over the truer artist, if he overlooks the need of being also a craftsman. yet it is the hard demand, not of the magazines alone, but of every highest interest, that the cure for this injustice be found in the truest artist making himself also the cunningest craftsman. "he that would be first among you let him be the servant of all." well, then, what are some of these mechanical rules of construction? the space here allowed--see there, for instance!--gives room for but a hint or two; but, first of all, an author should know before the actual constructure of his creation begins to rise, how long it is to be. of course he would like to say he cannot tell; that he is in the hands of his muse, and all that; but the truth is, his "artistic temperament" is trying to shirk the drudgery of the engineering problem involved. it is far better for him as an artist that he should thoroughly solve that problem; it will take time and labor, but it need not waste them. the length of his work will, or should, depend upon the breadth of it; by which we mean that a certain fulness of treatment involves a certain length. for instance, one cannot reasonably hope to keep a story short if it is about several persons and involves a conflict of their characters or fates. that is the second necessity; the length must be planned in proportion to the breadth. but, thirdly, both length and breadth should be governed by the importance, the dignity, the substantial value, the business, the substance, the spiritual stuff, of which the projected book is to consist. hence the writer of true literary conscience will put the first, as above named, last, and the last first: spiritual substance, then breadth, then length. in order to make fairly sure of these essentials, as well as for other reasons, the author should have a clear determination of all the main features of the structure he proposes to raise. especially the bridge should not be itself begun until its builder knows very definitely where and how it is to reach the other shore; nothing between the beginning and the end is so important to be sure about from the beginning, as the end. there is a great difference among writers as to the sense of need for a complete preliminary framework on which to build. but beyond doubt many feeble, many abortive, results come of having too little preparatory framework, too slender a scenario, to use a playwright's word which authors and editors are borrowing more and more. it seems good that a literary artist should always write for himself. yet, of course, he should write unselfishly; we may say he would do well always to aim at the entertainment of the noblest minds, even when he does not exhort their loftiest moods. but he certainly achieves much besides if, while he does these things, at the same time and in the same doing he entertains the great commonalty of readers. if he does this, and all the more if he has the rare genius to do all these in one, his books, we may almost say, _ought_ to go first through the magazines. if he wants them to do so, then it will be a godsend to himself as well as to the editors if he will lay his plans, as far as they have any arithmetical character (and they can have much), according to the magazines' mechanical exigencies. he should know just how much of any magazine page his own typewritten pages will occupy; how many of its own pages that magazine commonly allows to writings of the kind he proposes to offer--how many yearly, and how many monthly; and so on. it is well that he should know the best time of the magazine's business year in which to seek to arrange with them. to a certain degree magazines actually "lay in stock" for a coming season and after that, for a time, are languid buyers. be it understood that these remarks are as impromptu as a letter, and are intended only as hints and pointers. yet much as they leave unstated, let a word be said as to the relation of the author to his book after he and all the later artisans of it have done their several parts in its building, and it is built. the care of the edifice ought still to be, far more than it commonly is, in the author's hands. the publisher has the fortunes of hundreds of works to promote and keep in repair; the author has but his own. even an author may say that any publisher is glad to have suggestions from any author as to plans for keeping the children of that author's own brain alive in the world. the literary agent by paul r. reynolds. the work of the literary agent in the building of a book may be roughly divided into two parts, first, in relation to the author, and second, in relation to the publisher. when the author has finished his manuscript, he brings it to the literary agent to be placed. the literary agent reads it and decides what house is most likely to publish such a book. he does not offer a book on nervous disorders to a house which never publishes that kind of book. he does not offer a sensational novel to a conservative house. he offers a book on political economy to a house which publishes that class of book and which is in touch with the people who buy books of that order. among a number of houses which bring out books of any definite class, he can select the house that is most energetic in pushing its books, that has behind it a prestige and name which will help its publications, and which possesses the requisite skill to lay its wares before the public advantageously. the success of many a book has depended more on the shrewdness of the publisher in laying it before the public in attractive and seductive guise than either the public or the author often realize. if the publisher accepts the manuscript offered to him by the literary agent, the latter arranges terms with the publisher, making as good a business arrangement as all the conditions justify. he draws up the contract with the publisher, and after the book is published, he collects the royalties from the publisher as they fall due. he enables the author to avoid any house that has a reputation for sharp practices. knowing the personnel of the different houses, he knows the proper man to approach in offering his book, and he is of aid to the author in blowing his trumpet for him, telling what his previous work has been, in a way that the author, sensitive as he often is, cannot properly do. in short, the agent takes off the author's shoulders all the business end of publishing, leaving him free to devote himself to his own proper vocation without the vexatious business worries which he finds all the more vexatious because he has not had any training or experience in coping with them. i think the literary agent can be, and as time goes on, will be, of increasing use to the publisher. the literary agent, if he understands his business, takes up no manuscript in which he does not believe. when he brings the publisher a manuscript, it is because he thinks there is money in such manuscript for the publisher, for the author, and as far as commission is concerned, for himself. while it is an advantage to the author that he should have the judgment of the agent, because the agent looks at any manuscript from a cold-blooded business point of view, it is also of advantage to the publisher to know that the agent, free from the confidence and perhaps the bias that the author has about his own wares, is offering him any individual manuscript because he (the agent) believes it will sell. the result is that the publisher gets to know that the agent won't offer him a manuscript that is not up to a certain standard, and which, even though it should in the end not prove suitable to this publisher's special list, must receive careful consideration. in this way the agent becomes of use to the publisher because he tries never to offer him anything that is mere trash or that simply wastes the publisher's time. some time ago a publishing house wrote to an agent telling him they wanted a certain kind of novel for the next season, and describing, with a good deal of particularity, the kind of book they wanted. the agent, after thinking the matter over, submitted two manuscripts. the publisher considered them and accepted both. in such a case the agent had certainly been of great use to the publisher. he had given him what he was looking for, and had saved him the nuisance and the actual expense of reading through a large number of manuscripts before finding the right one. it may be admitted frankly that the agent is sometimes accused of asking more for his wares than they are worth. in reply to this accusation it may be said that asking is not getting, and the agent who asks more than the market justifies, and thereby spoils the chances of a satisfactory arrangement, is not serving the best interests of his client. on the other hand, he will get the best price obtainable in the market, taking into consideration the character of the publishing house, its prestige and ability in pushing books, and as he is offering and selling every day he can generally obtain a better price and make a better arrangement than the author can. realizing that the author and publishers are partners in an enterprise whose success depends upon a frank and clear understanding, he will do his best to make such relations friendly and harmonious and to the mutual advantage of both parties to the contract, never forgetting, however, that his especial client is the author, and that it is his duty to represent the author's interests. one of the notable features of the times is the growth of magazines. the arrangement for the serialization of a long story in a magazine, the placing of short stories and articles in magazines, the selling of stories, articles, and books in england, and arranging the simultaneous issue in both countries,--all this involves an immense amount of detail which one has to encounter fully to realize. sometimes, where an author is putting out a good many manuscripts, the complications are numerous and perplexing. in the case of one author living abroad whom we will call smith, a book was arranged with a house a, and a second with a house b. the author was taken ill, could not finish the first book in time so that a had to postpone it till the next year, and this meant that b had to postpone his book. then a publishing house took a story which the same author had sold direct to it for magazine publication, without reserving book rights, and brought such story out in book form. this meant another complication. after b had postponed his book twice the author produced another book which he thought better than the second book, and wished published before b's book. four times b was asked to postpone his book and each time agreed to, though not without certain _quid pro quos_. all these matters the agent had to straighten out, while the author was living three thousand miles away. the agent can also be of use to the author because he looks at any manuscript in an objective rather than in a subjective way. the author, who has toiled and striven over the child of his brain, regards it as fathers generally regard their children. sometimes he cannot see its faults, sometimes he misjudges its virtues. it is too much a part of himself to be regarded coldly and calmly. when the publisher makes an offer for a book the author may with hasty disdain wish to reject it as entirely inadequate, or he may wish to accept it with eager haste, so glad is he for the chance of seeing the book in print. in this state of hasty acceptance or hasty rejection, the agent can look upon an offer calmly and dispassionately, to be accepted or rejected as the author's best interests shall dictate. then again, as time goes on, more and more authors must live at a distance from the great centres. some of them live in the uttermost parts of the earth. one author wrote recently to his agent from the wilds of africa, saying, "i have found a nicely secluded spot, surrounded by gorillas and chimpanzees." to such authors it is essential that they should have an agent who is in touch with the publishers who are publishing their works. then again, the agent can be of use to the author in sparing him some of the bitterness that the author feels when his manuscript is rejected. who that has read it can ever forget the story of how hawthorne, while still struggling for success, submitted a collection of short stories to a publisher, and of how the publisher, not having much capital, laid the manuscript aside, intending to publish it when things were a little easier; and how hawthorne, after months of dreary waiting, wrote an angry letter to the publisher, and when he got the manuscript back, in bitter, hopeless rage burned it up? years afterward the publisher admitted that the manuscript contained some of the most exquisite work hawthorne had ever written. this story emphasizes the intense sensitiveness of the author about his work. often after two or three rejections he will give the manuscript up as hopeless and of no value, while it may be that he has only failed to find the house that is looking for that kind of book. an agent, if he has once taken the book up, does not drop it so quickly. only recently an agent sold a book which had been declined by fifteen houses to the sixteenth. he is willing to persevere with a manuscript and with an author, in spite of rebuffs and discouragement, if he believes that the author has merit; and if he is willing to persevere with an author in the day of small things, he will reap his reward later on. in conclusion the writer believes that the agent, as he has tried to indicate, can perform a definite and valuable service to both author and publisher by helping the author to bring his wares to the man who will publish them most advantageously, and by obtaining for the author the prices that such wares are worth in the open market, and he can help the publisher by acting as a sifter and bringing before the publisher and editor manuscripts that are really worthy of consideration. the literary adviser by francis w. halsey. the position of literary adviser to a publishing house differs in its duties, according as the adviser may be employed in a house highly organized, or in one that is not. when the organization is such that the duties in the various departments are not well differentiated, the adviser's work will be likely to involve many things that properly belong to the manufacturing and advertising departments. these conditions, however, if they exist at all, will be found in the smaller houses, or in houses which, as to personnel, are undergoing reorganization; they are, and ought to be, exceptional. the adviser's actual duties should pertain almost exclusively to the manuscripts, and to the relations of the house with those who produce them. in this way, the adviser acts as an intermediary between the publisher and the author. this relation seems, on the surface, to be somewhat delicate, and it usually is confidential, but most men find the occupation an agreeable one. authors as a class, so far from being an irritable race, will usually be found, at least in their relations to publishers, not only interesting men and women, but candid and reasonable human beings. probably the most delightful rewards of the literary adviser's calling come from the opportunities it gives him to extend his friendships among charming people. any house which is large enough to employ a literary adviser will probably receive, in the course of a year, at least one thousand unsolicited manuscripts, which will come from every part of the country. they will naturally be of widely varying degrees of excellence; quite two-thirds of them will be fiction, and a considerable number will bear convincing evidence of having already been for some time in search of a publisher. testimony from various houses has at different times been given as to the percentage of volunteered manuscripts which eventually find acceptance. it does not materially vary, being from one to two per cent. some years ago, in order to test this estimate, i went carefully over the unsolicited manuscripts which had reached a large publishing house during a period of several months, and found that exactly one and one-half per cent of them had been published. this small showing should not imply that the remaining ninety-eight or ninety-nine per cent could in fairness be called worthless. with occasional exceptions, rejected manuscripts have been prepared with considerable intelligence; knowledge of themes is shown in them; there is some real literary skill in evidence, and particular care has been taken to secure legibility, about nine-tenths of them being in typewritten form. what they lack is certain other qualities more vital in the formation of a judgment as to their availability. in the case of fiction, they lack novelty of treatment, or for some other reason fail to be interesting, and in general there has not been infused into them the real breath of life. when they deal with serious subjects, they often cover ground which has been better covered before, or they attempt to achieve the not-worth-while, or the impossible. there is always a small number of manuscripts against which no other objection can be raised than that it would be impossible to secure from the public an adequate return in sales for the expenditure necessary in the manufacture and distribution of the books. one of the pathetic sides of the publishing business is the fact that manuscripts of this kind cannot oftener, in this day and generation, secure the amount of attention they deserve from the reading public. when a sale of one or two thousand copies would be necessary to make good the cost of publication, the publisher is confronted with the fact that he could not secure a sale exceeding five hundred. indeed, when one considers the almost certain fate that awaits them, pathos of the most genuine kind is closely associated with volunteered manuscripts--those, i mean, which come from new writers. hardly any form of endeavor to which educated minds devote themselves should more often awaken sympathetic feeling. those who produce them almost always have their rewards far to seek, and seeking will not find them, and yet they "wrought in sad sincerity." the public is familiar with stories of successful books which, in the course of their peregrinations, were several times rejected by publishers. this, doubtless, has been the experience of all authors who have made notable successes with first books, and it doubtless always will be the experience of new authors. but along with this we must set down the further, but consoling fact, that probably no meritorious manuscript, possessing the possibilities of a great sale, ever yet failed ultimately to find a publisher. the best proof of this seems to be the absence of any notable instance of a book which, after being rejected by all the regular houses, finally was brought out privately, or at the author's expense, and then made a hit. it is a common impression that manuscripts are not carefully read in publishing houses. again and again has this fiction been exploded by houses whose word should be accepted as final, but it now and then lifts up its head as if untouched before. of course there are manuscripts which no one ever reads completely through from beginning to end, chapter by chapter, and page by page, simply because it has been found not to be necessary to do so. every conscientious reader, however,--and most readers known to me have been nothing if not conscientious,--reads at least far enough into a manuscript to learn if there be anything in it that in the least degree is promising. he understands full well the danger of overlooking a meritorious work, and experience has taught him to be careful. moreover, he is usually fired with the worthy ambition to make a discovery; but he acts according to his light only, and hence makes mistakes. the conditions in which his work is done, however, preclude the possibility of careless reading. it is doubtless true--indeed, i believe the records of every publishing house in the country will sustain this statement--that while no house has failed at some time in its career to reject at least one manuscript that was afterwards a highly successful book, mistakes of this kind have been extremely few; whereas the mistakes made by the same houses in accepting manuscripts that were afterward found to be unprofitable have been numerous. a further fact, which is seldom borne in mind, although it ought always to be remembered in any discussion of literary success, is that highly successful books usually bring to their publishers as much surprise as they do to any one else. this is distinctly true of novels by new writers, whose "big-sellers" have seldom or never been anticipated. it is well known in the trade that at least two, and probably a half-dozen, books highly successful during the past ten years, and all the works of new writers, were sent to press for the first edition, with a printing order for only two thousand copies. the public has gotten very much into the habit of judging the fortunes of a publishing house by the successful fiction which it puts forth, and this is also true of many men in the trade, whose means of knowing better ought to be ample. probably the literary gossip prevalent in newspapers and periodicals is largely responsible for this habit. the facts are, however, that, from these books alone, no publishing house in this country is, or could be, well sustained. unless there be in the background some other publishing enterprise that is producing constant revenue from year to year, mere fiction will accomplish little to make or save the publisher. the real sources of stability lie elsewhere, far beyond the ken of the superficial observer, and they are very commonly overlooked. in one instance, this mainstay is religious books; in another a cyclopædia; in another medical books, or educational; in another a dictionary; in another a periodical; and fortunate the house that has not one, but two or three, such sources of prosperity. it might be set down as an axiomatic statement that no large publishing house in this country could possibly live exclusively from what are known as miscellaneous books, by which is meant current fiction and other ephemeral publications. the worst thing about such books is that they create no assets; their life is short, and once it is ended, the plates have value only as old metal. a house, therefore, in publishing this class of books finds that each season it must begin all over again the work of creating business for itself. books of the more substantial kind, however, whether they be religious, educational, scientific, medical, or in other senses books of reference, do not perish with the passing of a season. once the right kinds have been found, they are good for at least ten years, and not infrequently for a generation. but this is wandering somewhat away from the subject of the literary adviser. his duties primarily are to preserve and to create good-will from authors toward the house which employs him, for that good-will is an asset of the first importance to a publishing house. other kinds of good-will at the same time are essential to its fortunes,--notably the good-will of the bookseller and that of the book buyer,--but behind these, and primarily as the source of these, lies the good-will of the author. houses now known to be the most prosperous in this country possess this good-will in abundance. so, too, the houses which are destined to much longer life are those which, by all legitimate means, shall seek to preserve and increase that good-will. equally true is it, that the houses which in future shall fail will be those which do not cultivate and cherish the good-will of authors as the most valuable asset they can ever hope to possess. it is because of this possession that a publisher gets an author's book. it was by this means that he got the books he already has, and by this will he get those which will make him successful in the future. his books being good, it is through them that the bookseller's good-will is acquired, and through them also that the publisher will secure the good-will of the book buyer. no wiser words on this subject have been uttered in our generation than those which may be found, here and there, in "a publisher's confession," which i hope was written, as reputed, by walter h. page, for it is certainly sound enough and sane enough to be his:-- "the successful publisher sustains a relation to the successful author that is not easily transferable. it is a personal relation. a great corporation cannot take a real publisher's place in his attitude to the author he serves." "every great publishing house has been built on the strong friendships between writers and publishers. there is in fact, no other sound basis to build on; for the publisher cannot do his highest duty to any author whose work he does not appreciate and with whom he is not in sympathy. now, when a man has an appreciation of your work, and sympathy for it, he wins you. this is the simplest of all psychological laws,--the simplest of all laws of friendship, and one of the soundest." "mere printers and salesmen have not often built publishing houses. for publishing houses have this distinction over most other commercial institutions--they rest on the friendship of the most interesting persons in the world, the writers of good books." "and--in all the noisy babble of commercialism--the writers of our own generation who are worth most on a publisher's list respond to the true publishing personality as readily as writers did before the day of commercial methods. all the changes that have come into the profession have not, after all, changed its real character, as it is practised on its higher levels. and this rule will hold true--that no publishing house can win and keep a place on the highest level that does not have at least one man who possesses this true publishing personality." these are golden words. men who knew them as self-evident truths laid the foundations, and in a few instances reared the superstructures, of the most famous publishing houses known to modern literature. let us in part call the roll, restricting it to the dead: james t. fields, the first charles scribner, george p. putnam, fletcher harper, william h. appleton, daniel macmillan, and the second john murray. these men were more than publishers, adding as they did to that vocation the duties of the literary adviser, and becoming the ablest of their kind. well may the literary adviser of our day, who is seldom himself a publisher, read the story of their lives and take heart from it in the discharge of his own duties. the manufacturing department by lawton l. walton. the manufacture of a book consists primarily of the processes of typography,[ ] or type composition, or the setting up of type--presswork or printing--photo-engraving or other methods of reproduction--designing--die-cutting--and binding, all of which are involved in transforming a manuscript into the completed book as it reaches the reader. [footnote : the word "typographer" is used to differentiate between the compositor and the printer, the latter being the one who does the presswork.] in the machinery of a modern publishing house the manufacturing man is the person who follows these processes in their devious volutions and evolutions, until the finished production comes from the binder's hands. after a manuscript has been accepted by a publishing house, it is turned over to the manufacturing man with such general instructions regarding the make-up of the book, as may have been considered or discussed with the author, who invariably and sometimes unfortunately, has some preconceived notion of what his book should look like. the manufacturing man then selects what he considers a suitable style and size of type and size of letter-press page for the book, and sends the manuscript to the typographer with instructions to set up a few sample pages, and to make an estimate of the number of pages that the book will make, so as to verify his own calculations in this respect. if these sample pages do not prove satisfactory, others are set up, until a page is arrived at finally that will meet all the requirements that the publisher deems necessary. this is then invariably submitted to the author for his approval. this detail settled, the typographer is now instructed to proceed with the composition and to send proofs to the author. sometimes a book is set up at once in page form but more often first proofs are sent out in galley strips, on which the author makes his corrections before the matter is apportioned into pages; another proof in page form is sent to the author on the return of which the typographer casts the electrotype plates from which the book is printed, unless, as in rare instances, the book is to be printed from the type, when no electrotype plates are made. the manufacturing man keeps in touch with this work in its various stages as it proceeds, and as soon as the number of pages that the book will make can definitely be determined, he places an order for the paper on which it is to be printed. meanwhile, if the book is to be illustrated, an illustrator must be engaged, and furnished with a set of early proofs of the book from which to select the points or situations to illustrate. when the drawings are finally approved they are carefully looked over, marked to show the sizes at which they are to be reproduced, and sent to the engraver for reproduction. upon receipt of the reproductions from the engraver, the proofs are carefully compared with the originals, and if the work has been satisfactorily performed, the cuts are sent to the typographer or the printer for insertion in their proper places in the plates or type matter of the book. the matter of the paper on which the book is to be printed has now to be considered: first, the size of the page, _i.e._ the apportionment of the margins around the page of letter-press, is decided. second, the quality of paper to be used, and the surface or finish is then selected; and finally, the bulk or thickness that the book must be, to make a volume of proper proportions, is determined. the paper is then ordered, to be delivered to the printer who will print the book. time was when paper was made by hand in certain fixed sizes, and the size of the book was determined by the number of times the sheet of paper was folded, and the letter-press page was adapted to the size of the paper. in these days of machinery, when paper can be made in any size of sheet desired, the process is reversed: the size of the letter-press page is determined and the size of the sheet of paper adapted thereto. upon receipt of the paper the printer sends a full-sized dummy of it to the manufacturing man so that he may compare it with the order that was given to the paper dealer. the book is then put to press, and as soon as the printing has been completed, the printed sheets are delivered to the binder. if the book is to have a decorative cover, a designer has been employed to furnish a suitable cover design. when the design has been approved, it is turned over to the die cutter to cut the brass dies used by the binder in stamping the design on the cover of the book. the dies when finished are sent with the design to the binder to be copied. he stamps off some sample covers until the result called for by the designer has been attained and is then ready to proceed with the operation of binding the book, as soon as the printed sheets have been delivered to him from the printer. the binder is usually supplied by the printer with a small number of advance copies of the book, before the complete run of the sheets has been delivered. these advance copies are bound up at once and delivered to the manufacturing man so that any faults or errors may be caught and improvements be made before the entire edition of the book is bound. printed paper wrappers for the book have been made and supplied to the binder for wrapping each copy, and as soon as the books are bound, they are wrapped and delivered at the publisher's stock rooms. the manufacturing man sees that early copies of each new book, for copyright purposes, are furnished to the proper department that attends to that detail, and that early copies also are supplied to the publicity department, to place with editors for special or advance reviews. the manufacturing man also provides the travelling representatives of his house with adequate dummies (_i.e._ partly completed copies) of all new books as soon as the important details of their make-up have been decided. this brief outline covers all of the steps in the process of the evolution of a book. reams, however, could be devoted to the innumerable details that interweave and overlap each other with which the manufacturing man has to contend, when, as is often the case in our larger publishing houses, he has from forty to fifty books, and sometimes more, in process of manufacture at one time. i know of no man to whom disappointment comes more often than to him,--from the delays due to causes wholly unavoidable, to the blunders of stupid workmen and the broken promises of others; but these are all forgotten when the completed book, that he has worried over in its course through the press, in many instances for months, reaches his hands completed, "a thing of beauty." the making of type by l. boyd benton. type are made of type metal, a mixture of tin, antimony, lead, and copper. as antimony expands in solidifying, advantage is taken of this quality, and the mixture is so proportioned that the expansion of the antimony will practically counteract the shrinkage of the other ingredients. the proportion of the mixture is varied according to the size and style of type and to the purposes for which it is used. type are cast separately in moulds, a "matrix" at the end of the mould forming the letter or other character. machinery is used very largely in modern type-making. the steps of its manufacture are in this order: drawing the design, producing of a metal pattern therefrom, placing the pattern either in the engraving machine to produce steel punches and type-metal originals, or in the matrix-engraving machine to produce matrices, adjusting the matrix to the mould, and finally, casting the type. the design for a new style of type is made generally with pen and ink, the capital letters being drawn about an inch high and the others in predetermined proportions. when the design is for a plain text letter, similar to that with which this book is printed, it is essential to have the letters proportioned and shaped in such a manner as will cause the least strain on the eye in reading, and, at the same time, produce a pleasing effect when the page is viewed as a whole. when the printed page conveys information to the reader, without attracting attention to itself, it is ideal. while this is true in regard to a design for a text letter, the design for a display type is often made to attract attention, not only to itself, but to what it proclaims, by its boldness and beauty and sometimes even by its ugliness. after the design has been drawn, it is placed in a "delineating machine," where an enlarged outline pencil copy, or tracing, is made, so large that all errors are easily seen and corrected. new designs may, however, be drawn in outline by hand on the enlarged scale, thus rendering unnecessary both the pen-and-ink drawing and the tracing. with the aid of the delineating machine, the operator, besides being able to produce an accurately enlarged outline pencil tracing of a design, is also enabled, by various adjustments, to change the form of the pencil tracing in such a manner that it becomes proportionately more condensed or extended, and even italicized or back-sloped. that is, from a single design, say gothic, pencil tracings can be made condensed, extended, italicized, and back-sloped, as well as an enlarged facsimile. the next operation consists in placing the enlarged outline pencil drawing in a machine which enables the operator to reproduce the outline drawing, reduced in size, on a metal plate, evenly covered with wax, with the line traced entirely through the wax. the plate is then covered with a thin layer of copper, electrically deposited, and is "backed up" with metal, and trimmed and finished, similar to an ordinary electrotype plate of a page of type. a copper-faced metal plate is thus produced, on which are the raised outlines of a letter. this is called the "pattern." from this pattern all regular type sizes may be cut. it determines the shape of the letter, but the size and variations from the pattern are determined later by the adjustments of the engraving machine in which it is used. the pattern is now sent to the engraving room. machines have superseded the old-fashioned way of cutting punches and originals by hand, and they have enormously increased the production of new type faces. whereas in the old days it took about eighteen months to bring out a new roman face, or style of letters, in seven different sizes, to-day it can be done in about five weeks. the reason is that formerly only one artist, known as a punch-cutter, could work on a single face, and he had to cut all the sizes, otherwise there were noticeable differences in style. by machine methods, where all sizes can be cut simultaneously, it is only a question of having the requisite number of engraving machines. as to the quality of machine work, it is superior to hand work both in accuracy and uniformity. the artist formerly cut the punches, or originals, by hand under a magnifying glass, and the excellence of his work was really marvellous. however, when changing from one size to another, there were often perceptible variations in the shapes of the letters, or the sizes were not always evenly graded. by the machine method the workman uses the long end of a lever, as explained below, and has therefore a greater chance of doing accurate work. in addition to this, a rigid pattern forms the shape of the letter, and to it all sizes must conform. another gain the machine has over hand-cutting is its greater range. when the old-time artist made an unusually small size of type for bible use, he did it with great strain on his eyes and nerves. at any moment his tool might slip and spoil the work. with the machine, on the other hand, and with no physical strain whatever, experimental punches have been cut so small as to be legible only with a microscope--too small, in fact, to print. at present there are two styles of engraving machines employed,--one cutting the letter in relief,--called a "punch" if cut in steel, and an "original" if cut in type metal,--and the other cutting a letter in intaglio,--called a "matrix." both machines are constructed on the principle of the lever, the long arm following the pattern, while the short arm moves either the work against the cutting tool, or the cutting tool against the work. the adjustments are such that the operator is enabled to engrave the letter proportionately more extended or condensed, and lighter or heavier in face, than the pattern. all these variations are necessary for the production of a properly graded modern series containing the usual sizes. in fact, on account of the laws of optics, which cannot be gone into here, only one size of a series is cut in absolutely exact proportion to the patterns. as it is impossible to describe these machines clearly without the aid of many diagrams and much technical language, only a brief description of their operation will be given. when the letters are to be engraved in steel, blocks or "blanks" are cut from soft steel and finished to the proper size. a blank is then fastened in the "holder," the machine for cutting the letter in relief adjusted to the proper leverage, and the pattern clamped to the "bed." the long arm of the lever, containing the proper "tracer" or follower, is moved by the operator around the outside of the pattern on the copper-faced metal plate, causing the blank to be moved by the shorter arm around and against a rotating cutting tool. this operation is repeated several times with different sizes of tracers and different adjustments to enable the cutting tool to cut at different depths, until finally a steel letter in relief is produced, engraved the reverse of the pattern and very much smaller. after being hardened and polished, this is called a steel punch, and, when driven into a flat piece of copper, it produces what is known as a "strike" or unfinished matrix. if in the same machine type metal is used for blanks, the resulting originals are placed in a "flask," or holder, and submerged in a bath, where they receive on the face of the letter a thick coating of nickel, electrically deposited. as soon as the deposit is of sufficient thickness, they are removed and the soft metal letters withdrawn, leaving a deep facsimile impression in the deposited metal, which also is an unfinished matrix. the machine for engraving a matrix in intaglio is operated in much the same manner as that for engraving a punch in relief. the same patterns are used, but the operator traces on the inside of the raised outline instead of on the outside. besides following the outline, the operator guides the tracers over all the surface of the pattern within the outlines; otherwise the letter would appear in the matrix in outline only. the matrices are cut in steel and in watchmakers' nickel, and the work is so accurately done that about half the labor of finishing is saved. it will be noted from the foregoing that all three processes of engraving end in the production of an unfinished matrix. the adjusting of the matrix to the mould is technically called "fitting," and requires great skill. if type are cast from unfitted matrices, be the letters ever so cleverly designed and perfectly cut, when assembled in the printed page they will present a very ragged appearance. some letters will appear slanting backward, others forward, some be above the line, others below; some will perforate the paper, while others will not print at all; the distances between the letters will everywhere be unequal, and some will print on but one edge. indeed, a single letter may have half of these faults, but when the matrices are properly fitted, the printed page presents a smooth and even appearance. the mould for this purpose is made of hardened steel, and in it is formed the body of the type. the printing end is formed in the matrix. the mould is provided at one end with guides and devices for holding the matrix snugly against it while the type is being cast, and for withdrawing the matrix and opening the mould when the type is discharged. at the opposite end from the matrix is an opening through which the melted metal enters. the moulds are made adjustable so that each character is cast the proper width, the opening of course being wider for a "w" than for an "i." only one mould is necessary for one size of type, and with it all the matrices for that size may be used. commercially, however, it is often necessary to make several moulds of the same size in order to produce the requisite amount of type. after the adjustments are made, the casting of the type follows. type are now cast in a machine which is automatic, after it is once adjusted to cast a given letter. the melted type metal is forced by a pump into the mould and the matrix, and when solidified, the type is ejected from the mould and moved between knives which trim all four sides. the type are delivered side by side on a specially grooved piece of wood, three feet long, called a "stick," on which they are removed from the machine for inspection. type are cast at the rate of from ten to two hundred per minute, according to the size, the speed being limited only by the time it takes the metal to solidify. to accelerate this, a stream of cold water is forced through passages surrounding the mould, and a jet of cold air is blown against the outside. the automatic casting machine performs six different operations. formerly, all of them, except the casting itself, were done by hand, and each type was handled separately, except in the operation of dressing, or the final finishing, where they were handled in lines of about three feet in length. after the type have been delivered to the inspector, they are examined under a magnifying glass and all imperfect type are thrown out. the perfect type are then delivered to "fonting" room, where they are weighed, counted, and put up in suitable packages in proper proportion of one letter with another, ready for the printer. formerly the various sizes of type were indicated by names which had developed with the history of type making. it was a source of considerable annoyance to printers that these old standards were not accurate, and that two types of supposedly the same size, and sold under the same name, by different makers, varied so much that they could not be used side by side. of recent years the "point" system, by which each size bears a proportionate relation to every other size, has done much to remedy this trouble, and now nearly all type is made on that basis. an american point is practically one seventy-second of an inch. actually it is . inch. it was based on the pica size most extensively in use in this country. this pica was divided into twelve equal parts and each part called a point. all the other sizes were made to conform to multiples of this point. the point is so near a seventy-second of an inch that printers frequently calculate the length of the pages by counting the lines, the basis being twelve lines of point, nine lines of point, eight lines of point, and six lines of point to the inch. this calculation is really quite accurate. the following table will show the old and new names for the various sizes:-- - / point, brilliant. - / point, diamond. point, pearl. - / point, agate. point, nonpareil. point, minion. point, brevier. point, bourgeois. point, long primer. point, small pica. point, pica. point, -line minion or english. point, -line brevier. point, great primer. point, -line long primer or paragon. point, -line small pica. point, -line pica. point, -line english. point, -line nonpareil. point, -line brevier. point, -line great primer. point, double paragon. point, -line nonpareil. point, -line small pica or canon. point, -line pica. point, -line nonpareil. point, -line pica. point, -line pica. hand composition and electrotyping by j. stearns cushing. the form of the book, the size of the type page, and the size and style of the type having been determined, the manuscript is handed to the foreman of the composing room, with all the collected directions in regard to it. he fills out a scheme of the work which tells the whole story,--somewhat as shown in illustration opposite page . under the heading "remarks," in the scheme shown, are noted general directions as to capitalization, punctuation, and spelling (whether webster, worcester, or english spelling--which means generally not much more than the insertion of the "u" in words like "favor," "honor," etc., and the use of "s" instead of "z" in words like "recognize," "authorize," etc.). sometimes these directions are given by the publisher, sometimes by the author, but more often by the superintendent or foreman of the printing-office. the office generally has a fairly well established system, which is followed in the absence of other orders. it is rarely the case that it is not the wisest course, if one is dealing with a reputable firm of printers, to leave all such details, except deciding the dictionary to be followed, to them. it is their business, and they will, if allowed, pursue a consistent and uniform plan, whereas few authors and fewer publishers are able, or take the pains, to do this. too often the author has a few peculiar ideas as to punctuation or capitalization, which he introduces just frequently enough to upset the consistent plan of the printer. he will neither leave the responsibility to the latter nor will he assume it himself, and the natural result is a lack of uniformity which might have been avoided if the printer had been allowed to guide this part of the work without interference. the compositors who are to set the type are selected according to the difficulty of the matter in hand, and each one is given a few pages of the "copy," or manuscript. the portion thus given each compositor is called a "take," and its length is determined by circumstances. for instance, if time is an object, small takes are given, in order that the next step in the forwarding of the work may be started promptly and without the delay which would be occasioned by waiting for the compositor to set up a longer take. when the compositor has finished his take, the copy and type are passed to a boy, who "locks up" the type on the galley--a flat brass tray with upright sides on which the compositor has placed his type--and takes a proof of it upon a galley-or "roller"-press. this is the proof known as a "galley-proof," and is, in book work, printed on a strip of paper about  Ã�  inches in size, leaving room for a generous margin to accommodate proof-readers' and authors' corrections, alterations, or additions. [illustration: memorandum no. date: ____ name and address of author: ____ name and address of publisher: ____ uniform with ____ size of page: ____ type,--old style or modern face: ____ text in ____ leaded with ____ foot-notes ____ in leaded with ____ extract in ____ leaded with ____ other types: ____ running titles in ____ left-hand running title: ____ right-hand running title: ____ proofs to be sent as follows: st rev. and copy to ____ d rev. and old rev. to ____ (put changes of orders as to proofs in this column.) f. proofs: ____ when begun: ____ when to be completed: ____ remarks. ____] [illustration: example of a proof-read page of "address at gettysburg".] the galley-proof, with the corresponding copy, is then handed to the proof-reader, who is assisted by a "copy-holder" (an assistant who reads the copy aloud) in comparing it with the manuscript and marking typographical errors and departures from copy on its margin. thence the proof passes back again to the compositor, who corrects the type in accordance with the proof-reader's markings. opposite page is a specimen of a page proof before correction and after the changes indicated have been made. new proofs are taken of the corrected galley, and these are revised by a proof-reader in order to be sure that the compositor has made all the corrections marked and to mark anew any he may have overlooked or wrongly altered. if many such occur, the proof is again passed to the compositor for further correction and the taking of fresh proofs. the reviser having found the proof reasonably correct, and having marked on its margin any noticed errors remaining, and also having "queried" to the author any doubtful points to which it is desirable that the latter's attention should be drawn, the proof--known as the "first revise"--and the manuscript are sent to the author for his reading and correction or alteration.[ ] [footnote : if the book is to be illustrated, the author or publisher should be particular to indicate the position of all cuts by pasting proofs of them on the margin of the galley-proofs nearest the place desired. the time occupied by the "make-up" in "overrunning" matter for the insertion of cuts is charged as "author's time," and they can be inserted at less expense in the galley-proofs while making-up the type into pages than at any other time. all alterations, so far as practicable, for the same reason, should also be made in the galley-proofs, especially those which involve an increase or decrease in the amount of matter, since changes of this nature made in the page-proof necessitate the added expense of a rearrangement of the made-up pages of type.] on the return of the galley-proofs to the printer, the changes indicated on the margins are made by compositors selected for the purpose, and the galleys of type and the proofs are then turned over by them to the "make-up." the "make-up" inserts the cuts, divides the matter into page lengths, and adds the running titles and folios at the heads of the pages. at this stage the separate types composing the page are held in place and together by strong twine called "page cord," which is wound around the whole page several times, the end being so tucked in at the corner as to prevent its becoming unfastened prematurely. the page thus held together is quite secure against being "pied" if proper care is exercised in handling it, and it can be put on a hand-press and excellent proofs readily taken from it. a loosely tied page, however, may allow the letters to spread apart at the ends of the lines, or the type to get "off its feet," or may show lines slightly curved or letters out of alignment. the proof of a page displaying such conditions often causes the author, unlearned in printers' methods, much perturbation of mind and unnecessary fear that his book is going to be printed with these defects. these should in reality be no cause for worry, since by a later operation, that of "locking-up" the "form" in which the pages will be placed before they are sent to the electrotyping department, the types readily and correctly adjust themselves. proofs of these twine-bound pages are taken on a hand-press, passed to the reviser for comparison with the galley-proofs returned by the author, and if the latter has expressed a wish to see a second revise of the proofs, they are again sent to him. for such a "second revise" and any further revises an extra charge is made. the proofs to which an author is regularly entitled are a duplicate set of the first revise, a duplicate set of "f"-proofs,--to be mentioned later,--and one set of proofs of the electrotype plates; though it may be added that the last is not at all essential and is seldom called for. usually the author does not require to see another proof after the second revise, which he returns to the printer with his final changes and the direction that the pages may be "corrected and cast," that is, put into the permanent form of electrotype plates. some authors, however, will ask to see and will make alterations in revise after revise, even to the sixth or seventh, and could probably find something to change in several more if the patience or pocketbook of the publisher would permit it. all the expense of overhauling, correcting, and taking additional proofs of the pages is charged by the printer as "author's time." it is possible for an author to make comparatively few and simple changes each time he receives a new revise, but yet have a much larger bill for author's changes than another who makes twice or thrice as many alterations at one time on the galley-proof, and only requires another proof in order that he may verify the correctness of the printer's work. the moral is obvious. after the pages have been cast, further alterations, while entirely possible, are quite expensive and necessarily more or less injurious to the plates. the author having given the word to "cast," the pages of type are laid on a smooth, level table of iron or marble called an "imposing stone." they are then enclosed--either two or three or four pages together, according to their size--in iron frames called "chases," in which they are squarely and securely "locked up," the type having first been levelled down by light blows of a mallet on a block of smooth, hard wood called a "planer." this locking-up of the pages in iron frames naturally corrects the defects noted in the twine-bound pages, and not only brings the type into proper alignment and adjustment, but prevents the probability of types becoming displaced or new errors occurring through types dropping out of the page and being wrongly replaced. when the locking-up process is completed, the iron chase and type embraced by it is called a "form." a proof of this form is read and examined by a proof-reader with the utmost care, with a view to eliminating any remaining errors or defective types or badly adjusted lines, and to making the pages as nearly typographically perfect as possible. it is surprising how many glaring errors, which have eluded all readers up to this time, are discovered by the practised eye of the final proof-reader. the form having received this most careful final reading, the proof is passed back to the "stone-hands"--those who lock up and correct the forms--for final correction and adjustment, after which several more sets of proofs are taken, called "f"-proofs (variously and correctly understood as standing for "final," "file," or "foundry" proofs). a set of f-proofs is sent to the author to keep on file, occasionally one is sent to the publisher, and one set is always retained in the proof-room of the printing-office. these proofs are characterized by heavy black borders which enclose each page, and which frequently render nervous authors apprehensive lest their books are to appear in this funereal livery. these black borders are the prints of the "guard-lines," which, rising to the level of the type, form a protection to the pages and the plates in their progress through the electrotyping department; but before the plates are finished up and made ready for the pressroom, the guard-lines, which have been moulded with the type, are removed. after several sets of f-proofs have been taken, the form is carried to the moulding or "battery" room of the electrotyping department, where it leaves its perfect impress in the receptive wax. thence it will later be returned to the composing room and taken apart and the type distributed, soon to be again set up in new combinations of letters and words. the little types making a page of verse to-day may do duty to-morrow in a page of a text-book in the higher mathematics. after the type form has been warmed by placing it upon a steam table, an impression of it is taken in a composition resembling wax which is spread upon a metal slab to the thickness of about one-twelfth of an inch. both the surface of the type and of the wax are thoroughly coated with plumbago or black lead, which serves as a lubricant to prevent the wax from adhering to the type. as the blank places in the form would not provide sufficient depth in the plate, it is necessary to build them up in the wax mould by dropping more melted wax in such places to a height corresponding to the depth required in the plate, which is, of course, the reverse of the mould, and will show corresponding depressions wherever the mould has raised parts. if great care is not taken in this operation of "building-up," wax is apt to flow over into depressions in the mould, thereby effacing from it a part of the impression, and the plate appears later without the letters or words thus unintentionally blotted out. the reviser of the plate-proofs must watch carefully for such cases. the mould is now thoroughly brushed over again with a better quality of black lead than before, and this furnishes the necessary metallic surface without which the copper would not deposit. then it is "stopped out" by going over its edges with a hot iron, which melts the wax, destroys the black-lead coating, and confines the deposit of copper to its face. after carefully clearing the face of the mould of all extraneous matter by a stream of water from a force-pump, it is washed with a solution of iron filings and blue vitriol which forms a primary copper facing. it is then suspended by a copper-connecting strip in a bath containing a solution of sulphate of copper, water, and sulphuric acid. through the instrumentality of this solution, and the action of a current of electricity from a dynamo, copper particles separate from sheets of copper (called "anodes," which are also suspended in the bath) and deposit into the face of the mould, thus exactly reproducing the elevations and depressions of the form of type or illustrations of which the mould is an impression. after remaining in the bath about two hours, when the deposit of copper should be about as thick as a visiting card, the mould is taken from the bath and the copper shell removed from the wax by pouring boiling hot water upon it. a further washing in hot lye, and a bath in an acid pickle, completely removes every vestige of wax from the shell. the back of the shell is now moistened with soldering fluid and covered with a layer of tin-foil, which acts as a solder between the copper and the later backing of lead. the shells are now placed face downward in a shallow pan, and melted lead is poured upon them until of a sufficient depth; then the whole mass is cooled off, and the solid lead plate with copper face is removed from the pan and carried to the finishing room, where it is planed down to a standard thickness of about one-seventh of an inch. the various pages in the cast are sawed apart, the guard-lines removed, side and foot edges bevelled, head edge trimmed square, and the open or blank parts of the plate lowered by a routing machine to a sufficient depth to prevent their showing later on the printed sheet. then a proof taken from the plates is carefully examined for imperfections, and the plates are corrected or repaired accordingly, and are now ready for the press. although, owing to the expense and to the fact that the plate is more or less weakened thereby, it is desirable to avoid as much as possible making alterations in the plates, they can be made, and the following is the course generally pursued. if the change involves but a letter or two, the letters in the plate are cut out and new type letters are inserted; but if the alteration involves a whole word or more, it is inadvisable to insert the lead type, owing to its being softer and less durable than the copper-faced plate, and it will therefore soon show more wear than the rest of the page; and so it is customary to reset and electrotype so much of the page as is necessary to incorporate the proposed alteration, and then to substitute this part of the page for the part to be altered, by cutting out the old and soldering in the new piece, which must of course exactly correspond in size. as a patched plate is apt at any time to go to pieces on the press, and may destroy other plates around it, or may even damage the press itself, it is generally considered best to cast a new plate from the patched one. this does not, however, apply to plates in which only single letters or words have been inserted, but to those which have been cut apart their whole width for the insertion of one or more lines. the plates having been finally approved, they are made up in groups (or "signatures") of sixteen, and packed in strong boxes for future storage. each box generally contains three of these groups, or forty-eight plates, and is plainly marked with the title of the book and the numbers of the signatures contained therein. the longevity of good electrotype plates is dependent upon the care with which they are handled and the quality of paper printed from them; but with smooth book paper and good treatment it is entirely possible to print from them a half million impressions without their showing any great or material wear. composition by the linotype machine by frederick j. warburton. the linotype, pronounced by _london engineering_ "the most wonderful machine of the century," was not the product of a day. its creator, whose early training had never touched the printer's art, was fortunately led to the study of that art, through the efforts of others, whose education had prepared them to look for a better method of producing print than that which had been in use since the days of gutenberg; but his invention abolished at one stroke composition and distribution; introduced for the first time the line, instead of the letter, as the unit of composition; brought into the art the idea of automatically and instantly producing by a keyboard solid lines of composed and justified type, to be once used and then melted down; rendered it possible to secure for each issue new and sharp faces; abolished the usual investment for type; cheapened the cost of standing matter; removed all danger of "pieing," and at the same time reduced greatly the cost of composition. the story is an interesting one. in the autumn of , charles t. moore, a native of virginia, exhibited to a company of washington reporters a printing machine upon which he had been working for many years, and which he believed to be then substantially complete. it was a machine of very moderate dimensions, requiring a small motive power, and which bore upon a cylinder in successive rows the characters required for printed matter. by the manipulation of finger keys, while the cylinder was kept in continuous forward motion, the characters were printed in lithographic ink upon a paper ribbon, in proper relation to each other; this ribbon was afterwards cut into lengths, arranged in the form of a page, "justified," to a certain extent, by cutting between and separating the words, and then transferred to a lithographic stone, from which the print was made. such print was not, of course, of the highest character, but it was a beginning; and the machines were used in washington and new york, mainly in the transcription of stenographic notes taken in law cases and in the proceedings of legislative committees. a number of these machines was built, but mechanical difficulties became so frequent that the parties interested resolved, very wisely, before proceeding to build upon a large scale, to put the machine into the hands of a thorough mechanical expert, so that it might be tried out and a determination reached as to whether or not it was a commercially practical one. at the head of the little company of men who nurtured this enterprise and contributed most largely by their labors and means to its development, were james o. clephane, a well-known law and convention reporter, and andrew devine, then the senate reporter of the associated press. in their search for an expert, a baltimore manufacturer named hahl, who had constructed some of these machines, was consulted, and upon his recommendation his cousin, ottmar mergenthaler, was selected to undertake the work, and thus the future inventor of the linotype was discovered. mergenthaler was born in , in würtemberg, germany, had been a watchmaker, and at this time was employed upon the finer parts of the mechanical work done in hahl's shop. the contract was that mergenthaler was to give his services at a rate of wages considerably beyond what he was then receiving, and hahl was to charge a reasonable price for the use of his shop and the cost of material. the task undertaken, however, proved to be a far larger one than had been anticipated, and the means of the promoters were exhausted long before the modifications and improvements continually presented had been worked out. the circle of contributors was therefore necessarily widened, and indeed that process went on for years, enough, could they have been foreseen, to have dismayed and disheartened those who were there "in the beginning." mergenthaler and moore, assisted by the practical suggestions of clephane and devine, continued to work upon the problem for about two years, by which time the lithographic printing machine had become one which indented the characters in a papier-maché strip, and this being cut up and adjusted upon a flat surface in lines, the way was prepared for casting in type metal. the next step of importance was the production of the "bar indenting machine," a machine which carried a series of metal bars, bearing upon their edges male printing characters, the bars being provided with springs for "justifying" purposes. the papier-maché matrix lines resulting from pressure against the characters were secured upon a backing sheet, over this sheet was laid a gridiron frame containing a series of slots, and into these slots type metal was poured by hand to form slugs bearing the characters from which to print. this system was immediately followed by a machine which cast the slugs automatically, one line at a time, from the matrix sheets. it was in this work that mergenthaler received the education which resulted in his great invention and in due time he presented his plans for a machine which was known as the "band" machine. in this machine the characters required for printing were indented in the edges of a series of narrow brass bands, each band containing a full alphabet, and hanging, with spacers, side by side in the machine. the bands tapered in thickness from top to bottom, the characters being arranged upon them in the order of the width-space which they occupied. by touching the keys of a keyboard similar to a typewriter, the bands dropped successively, bringing the characters required into line at a given point; a casting mechanism was then brought in contact with this line of characters, molten metal forced against it through a mould of the proper dimensions, and a slug with a printing surface upon its face was thus formed. this was recognized as a great advance and was hailed with delight by the now largely increased company. the necessary funds were provided and the building of the new machine undertaken. but mergenthaler continued active, and before a second of the "band" machines could be built, he had devised a plan for dealing with the letters by means of independent matrices. these matrices were pieces of brass measuring - / inches by / of an inch and of the necessary thickness to accommodate the character, which it bore upon its edge in intaglio; they were stored in the newly devised machine in vertical copper tubes, from the bases of which they were drawn, as required, by a mechanism actuated by finger keys, caught by the "ears" as they dropped upon a miniature railway, and by a blast of air carried one by one to the assembling point. wedge spacers being dropped in between the words, the line was carried to the front of the mould, where "justification" and casting took place. success seemed at last to have been reached, and now the problem was, first, how to obtain means to build machines, and second, how to persuade printers to use them. the first of these was the easier, although no slight task; the second was one of great difficulty. the field for the machine then in sight was the newspaper, and the newspaper must appear daily. the old method of printing from founder's type, set for the most part by hand, was doing the work; a revolutionary method by which the type was to be made and set by machine, although promising great economies, was a dangerous innovation and one from which publishers naturally shrank. they could see the fate which awaited them if they adopted the new system and it proved unsuccessful. however, a number of newspaper men, after a careful investigation of the whole subject, determined to make the trial; and the leaders of these were whitelaw reid of the _new york tribune_, melvin stone of the _chicago news_ (to whom succeeded victor f. lawson), and walter n. haldeman of the _louisville courier-journal_. into these offices, then, the linotype went. to mr. reid belongs the honor of giving the machine a name--line of type--linotype, and of first using it to print a daily newspaper. of the machine last described, two hundred were built, but before they were half marketed, the ingenious mergenthaler presented a new form, which showed so great an advance that it was perforce adopted, and the machines then in use, although they gave excellent results, were in course of time displaced. the new machine did away with the air blast, the matrices being carried to the assembling point by gravity from magazines to be hereafter described, and the distributing elevator was displaced by an "arm" which lifted the lines of matrices, after the casting process, to the top of the machine to be returned to their places. the improvements made in the linotype since mergenthaler's time (who died in at the early age of forty-five) have been very great; indeed, almost a new machine has been created in doing what was necessary to adapt it to the more and more exacting work which it was called upon to perform in the offices of the great american book publishers. these improvements have been largely the work of, or the following out of suggestions made by, philip t. dodge, the patent attorney of the parties interested in the enterprise from the beginning, and later the president of the mergenthaler linotype company. they went on year after year under the supervision of a corps of gifted mechanical experts, the chief of whom was john r. rogers, the inventor of the typograph, until from the machine of mergenthaler, supplying through its ninety keys as many characters, a machine appeared yielding three hundred and sixty different characters from the like keyboard. the magazines, too, were capable of being charged with matrices representing any face from agate ( -point) to english ( -point), and even larger faces for display advertising and for initial letters, by special contrivances which cannot be described without carrying this article beyond reasonable limits. among the ingenious devices added are: the rogers systems of setting rule and figure tables, box heads, etc.; the reversal of the line so as to set hebrew characters in their proper relation; the production of printers' rules of any pattern; the making of ornamental borders; a device for the casting of the same line an indefinite number of times from one setting. the machine was also greatly simplified in its construction. the amount of money expended in the enterprise before the point of profit was reached was very great; it aggregated many millions of dollars; but the promoters had faith in the success of the machine and taxed themselves ungrudgingly. among those who contributed largely to the ultimate result by substantial aid and wise counsel in the conduct of the business the name of d. o. mills should be particularly mentioned. it was mergenthaler's great good fortune to have had as his supporters many men of the character of those mentioned above, and in thus being relieved of all financial anxiety and permitted to work out thoroughly and without delay every idea that suggested itself either to him or to the ingenious men who had been drawn into the enterprise. his profits, too, were proportionate to the company's success, and although he did not live to enjoy them for his natural term of years, he had the satisfaction of knowing that a handsome income would continue to flow into the hands of his wife and children. the company's principal works are situated in the borough of brooklyn, new york city, and have a space devoted to manufacturing purposes of about one hundred and sixty thousand square feet. approximately one hundred linotypes, besides a large number of smaller machines and a vast quantity of supplies, are turned out from there every month; but the growing demand from abroad for american-built machines has led to the consideration of plans for an entirely new establishment, to be built in accordance with the latest modes of factory construction. about ten thousand linotypes are now in daily use. the machine as at present built is shown in part by the accompanying cut, and its operation may be briefly described as follows:-- the linotype machine contains, as its fundamental elements, several hundred single matrices, which consist of flat plates of brass having on one edge a female letter or matrix proper, and in the upper end a series of teeth, used for selecting and distributing them to their proper places in the magazine. these matrices are held in the magazine of the machine, a channel of it being devoted to each separate character, and there are also channels which carry quads of definite thickness for use in tabular work, etc. the machine is so organized that on manipulating the finger keys, matrices are selected in the order in which their characters are to appear in print, and they are assembled in line side by side at the point marked _g_ in the illustration, with wedge-shaped spaces between the words. this series of assembled matrices forms a line matrix, or, in other words, a line of female type adapted to form a line of raised printed characters on a slug which is cast against them. after the matrix line has been composed, it is automatically transferred to the face of a slotted mould, as shown at _k_, and while in this position the wedge spaces are pushed up through the line, and in this manner exact and instantaneous justification is secured. behind the mould there is a melting pot, _m_, heated by a flame from a gas or oil burner, and containing a constant supply of molten metal. the pot has a perforated mouth which fits against and closes the rear side of the mould, and it contains a pump plunger mechanically actuated. after the matrix line is in place against the front of the mould, the plunger falls and forces the molten metal through the mouth pot into the mould, against and into the characters in the matrix line. the metal instantly solidifies, forming a slug having on its edge raised characters formed by the matrices. the mould wheel next makes a partial revolution, turning the mould from its original horizontal position to a vertical one in front of an ejector blade, which, advancing from the rear through the mould, pushes the slug from the latter into the receiving galley at the front. a vibrating arm advances the slugs laterally in the galley, assembling them in column or page form ready for use. to insure absolute accuracy in the height and thickness of the slugs, knives are arranged to act upon the base and side faces as they are being carried toward the galley. after the matrices have served their purpose in front of the mould, they are shifted laterally until the teeth in their upper ends engage the horizontal ribs on the bar _r_; this bar then rises, as shown by the dotted lines, lifting the matrices to the distributor at the top of the machine, but leaving the wedge spacers, _i_, behind, to be shifted to their box, _h_. the teeth in the top of each matrix are arranged in a special order, according to the character it contains, the number or relation of its teeth differing from that of a matrix containing any other character, and this difference insures proper distribution. a distributor bar, _t_, is fixed horizontally over the upper end of the magazine and bears on its lower edge longitudinal ribs or teeth, adapted to engage the teeth of the matrices and hold the latter in suspension as they are carried along the bar over the mouths of the magazine channels by means of screws which engage their edges. each matrix remains in engagement with the bar until it arrives at the required point, directly over its own channel, and at this point for the first time its teeth bear such relation to those on the bar that it is permitted to disengage and fall into the channel. it is to be particularly noted that the matrices pursue a circulatory course through the machine, starting singly from the bottom of the magazine and passing thence to the line being composed, thence in the line to the mould, and finally back singly to the top of the magazine. this circulation permits the operations of composing one line, casting from a second, and distributing a third, to be carried on concurrently, and enables the machine to run at a speed exceeding that at which an operator can finger the keys. a change from one face of type to any other is effected by simply drawing off one magazine and substituting another containing the face required, so that the variety of faces needs to be limited only by the number of them which the printer chooses to carry in his stock. [illustration: a linotype matrix.] [illustration: diagram of the linotype machine.] [illustration: linotype slugs.] [illustration: the linotype melting pot and mold wheel.] matrices are also made bearing two characters, as the ordinary body character and the corresponding italics, or a body character and a small capital or a black face, and either of these is brought into use as desired by the touching of a key, so that if, for instance, it is required to print a word in italics or black face at any part of the line being composed, it is effected in this way, and composition in the body letter is resumed by releasing the key. the latest pattern of machine is supplied with two magazines, superimposed one above the other, each with its own distributing apparatus. the operator can elect, by moving a lever, from which magazine the letter wanted will fall--the same keyboard serving for both. it is thus possible to set two sizes of type from one machine, each matrix showing two characters as described above. composition by the monotype machine by paul nathan. though for more than half a century machines adapted for the setting of type have been in use, it is only within a few years that the average printer of books has been enabled to avail himself of the services of a mechanical substitute for the hand compositor. the fact seems to be that despite the ingenuity that was brought to bear upon the problem, the pioneer inventors were satisfied to obtain speed, with its resultant economy, at the expense of the quality of the finished product. thus, until comparatively recently, machine composition was debarred from the establishments of the makers of fine books, and found its chief field of activity in the office of newspaper publishers and others to whom a technically perfect output was not essential so long as a distinct saving of time and labor could be assured. thanks, however, to persistent effort on the part of those inventors who would not be satisfied until a machine was evolved which should equal in its output the work of the hand compositor, the problem has been triumphantly solved, and to-day the very finest examples of the printed book owe their being to the mechanical type-setter. the claim is made for one of these machines, the monotype, that, so far from lowering the standard of composition, its introduction into the offices of the leading book printers of the world has had the contrary effect, and that it is only the work of the most skilful hand compositor which can at every point be compared with that turned out by the machine. the fact that the type for some recent books of the very highest class, so-called "editions de luxe," has been cast and set by the monotype machine would seem to afford justification for this claim, extravagant as at first glance it may appear. the monotype machine is, to use a hibernicism, two machines, which, though quite separate and unrelated, are yet mutually interdependent and necessary the one to the other. one of these is the composing machine, or keyboard, the other the caster, or type-founder. to begin with the former: this is in appearance not unlike a large typewriter standing upon an iron pedestal, the keyboard which forms its principal feature having two hundred and twenty-five keys corresponding to as many different characters. this keyboard is generally placed in some such position in the printing office as conduces to the health and comfort of the operator, for there is no more noise or disagreeable consequence attendant on its operation than in the case of the familiar typewriter, which it so markedly resembles. it has been said that the machines are interdependent; yet they are entirely independent as to time and place. the keyboard, as a matter of fact, acts as a sort of go-between betwixt the operator and the casting-machine, setting the latter the task it has to perform and indicating to it the precise manner of its performance. a roll of paper, which as the keyboard is operated continuously unwinds and is rewound, forms the actual means of communication between the two machines. the operator, as he (or she, for in increasing numbers women are being trained as monotype operators) sits facing the keyboard, has before him, conveniently hanging from an adjustable arm, the "copy" that has to be set in type. as he reads it he manipulates the keys precisely as does an operator on a typewriter, but each key as it is depressed, in place of writing a letter, punches certain round holes in the roll of paper. enough keys are depressed to form a word, then one is touched to form a space, and so on until just before the end of the line is reached (the length of this line, or the "measure," as it is termed, has at the outset been determined upon by the setting of an indicator) a bell rings, and the operator knows that he must prepare to finish the line with a completed word or syllable and then proceed to justify it. "justification," as it is termed, is perhaps the most difficult function of either the hand or the machine compositor. on the deftness with which this function is discharged depends almost entirely the typographic excellence of the printed page. to justify is to so increase the distance between the words by the introduction of type-metal "spaces" as to enable the characters to exactly fill the line. to make these spaces as nearly equal as possible is the aim of every good printer, and in proportion as he succeeds in his endeavor the printed page will please the eye and be free from those irregularities of "white space," which detract from its legibility as well as from its artistic appearance. [illustration: the monotype keyboard.] [illustration: the monotype caster.] that the monotype should not only "justify" each line automatically, but justify with a mathematical exactness impossible of attainment by the more or less rough-and-ready methods of the most careful human type-setter is at first thought a little bewildering. the fact remains, however, that it does so, and another triumph is to be recorded for man's "instruments of precision." monotype justification is effected as follows: an ingenious registering device waits, as it were, on all the movements of the operator, with the result that when he has approached as close to the end of the line as he dare go, he has merely to glance at a cylindrical dial in front of him. the pointer on this dial signifies to him which of the "justifying keys" he must depress. he touches them in accordance therewith, and the line is justified, or rather it _will_ be justified when, as will be seen later on, the casting machine takes up its part of the work. that is the outward manifestation; it remains to be seen in what manner the machine accomplishes its task. firstly, the machine automatically notes the exact width of the space left over at the line's end; then, also automatically, it records the number of spaces between the words already set which form the incompleted line; finally, it divides the residuary space into as many parts as there are word-spaces, and allots to each of these one of the parts. thus if there is one-tenth of an inch to spare at the end of the line and ten word-spaces, then one-hundredth of an inch added to each of these spaces will justify the line with mathematical accuracy. but the machine will do something more wonderful than this. it will separately justify separate parts of the same line. the utility of this is comprehended when it is pointed out that when the "copy" to be set consists of what is technically termed "tabular" matter, the various columns of figures or so forth composing it are not composed vertically but horizontally and so each section must of necessity be justified separately. should the compositor be required to "over-run illustrations," as the term goes, in other words to leave a space in which the "block" for a cut may be inserted, so that it may have type all around it or on one side of it only, the machine offers no difficulty at all. all that the operator has to do in this case is to carry the composition of each line as far as necessary and then complete it with a row of "quads," or spaces. thus, when the composition is cast by the casting-machine the space into which the block is to fit is occupied by a square of "quads." these have only to be lifted out, the block inserted, and the trick is done. we will then imagine that the operator has finished his task. of the bank of two hundred and twenty-five keys in front of him (the equivalent of a full "font" of type, with figures, italics, and symbols complete), he has depressed in turn those necessary to spell out the words of his copy, he has put a space between the words he has justified in accordance with the dictates of the justifying dial, has arranged the spaces for the insertion of blocks or illustrations, and as the result of his labors he has merely a roll of perforated paper not unlike that which operates the now familiar pianola or piano-player. yet this roll of paper is the informing spirit, as it were, of the machine. its production is the only portion of the work of the monotype for which a human directing agency is necessary, every other function being purely automatic. the roll of perforated ribbon is lifted off the keyboard and put in place on the casting-and setting-machine. as it is swiftly unwound it delivers to the casting-machine the message with which the operator has charged it. through the perforations he has made compressed air is forced. now, as has been explained, the holes correspond to the characters or typographic symbols of the "copy," and the jet of air forced through them sets in motion the machinery, which controls what is known as the "matrix-case," a rectangular metal frame about five inches square, which contains two hundred and twenty-five matrices, or little blocks of hardened copper, each one of which is a mould corresponding to a character on the keyboard. this frame is mounted horizontally on a slide, which by an ingenious mechanical movement brings any one of the two hundred and twenty-five matrices over what is termed the mould. the particular matrix thus placed in position is determined by those particular holes punched in the paper ribbon at the keyboard, through which the compressed air is at that precise moment being forced. the mould referred to is closed by the matrix, a jet of molten metal is forced in, and in an instant the type is cast, its face being formed by the matrix, its body or shank by the mould. the cast type is ejected and takes its place in the galley, to be followed by another and that by yet others in their regular rotation. it must, however, be pointed out that the composition emerges from the machine hind part foremost and upside down as it were. this enables the justification holes, which were originally punched at the _end_ and not at the beginning of each line, to direct the proper casting of the spaces in the lines to which they correspond. it will be seen, therefore, that the casting portion of the monotype machine is actually automatic. it performs all its operations without human assistance or direction. occasionally it will stop of its own accord and refuse to work, but this merely means that it has found something amiss with the perforated instructions, a mistake as to the length of a line or so forth, and it refuses to continue until the workman in charge of it puts the error right, then it starts on again and continues on its even course, casting letters and spaces and punctuation marks, and arranging them first in words, then in lines, next in paragraphs, and finally in a column on the galley. the casting-machine works at so high a rate of speed (casting from one hundred and forty to one hundred and fifty characters per minute) that it can in its output keep well ahead of the operator on the keyboard. this, however, so far from being an inconvenience or leading to any loss of time, is an advantage, for four casting-machines, which can easily be looked after by one man and a boy, can cope with the work of five keyboard operators, or if all are engaged on the same character of composition two casters can attend to the output of three keyboards. this suggests a reference to the facilities offered by the machine for the production of matter composed in various faces of type. the machine casts practically all sizes in general use from five-point, or "pearl," to fourteen point, or "english." owing to the number of characters included in the matrix-case, it can at the same time set upper and lower case, small capitals, and upper and lower case italics, or any similar combination of two or even three different faced alphabets. to change from one complete set of matrices to another is a simple operation, performed in about a minute of time, while the changing of mould, which insures a corresponding change in the size of the "body" of the type, takes about ten minutes. to return, however, to the perforated roll of paper, which it must be imagined has passed entirely through the casting-machine and has been automatically re-rolled. its present function has come to an end, and it is now lifted out of its position on the machine and placed away for future reference in a drawer or cabinet. this is a by no means unimportant feature of the monotype, for it is thus no longer necessary to preserve the heavy, cumbrous, and expensive "plates" of a book in anticipation of a second edition being called for at some future time. as a matter of fact, indeed, "plates," or electrotypes of monotyped matter, are by no means a necessity. many thousand impressions can with safety be printed from the types themselves, and these latter at the conclusion of the job can be remelted and new type cast from the resultant metal. the paper rolls, occupying but a few square inches of space, can be kept, and when the time arrives may be passed through the casting-machine again, to supply a new printing surface identical in every respect with the original. but the galley of monotyped composition has been waiting during this digression. it is lifted off the machine by the attendant and a rough proof pulled, which is corrected by the proof-reader. the advantage of the individual types is then apparent, for the composition is corrected and otherwise handled precisely as would be the case had the matter been set entirely by hand. indeed, the operation consumes even less time, for the discarded characters, instead of being placed back carefully in their proper compartments in the case for future use, are merely thrown aside by the corrector, to find their way eventually into the melting pot. it may be added, however, that the monotype itself furnishes the types used in the correction of its matter--"sorts," as they are termed by the printer. these are cast by the machine during the times when it is not employed upon more important work. indeed, an attachment has recently been added to the machine, whereby its use as a type-caster is still further extended. as has been mentioned, the machine casts and composes type of any sized face, from five to fourteen point. with, however, the attachment referred to, it can now cast for the use of the hand compositor complete fonts of type up to and including thirty-six point in size, so that an entire book, title-page included, nowadays often owes its typographical "dress" to the ingenious machine known as "the lanston monotype." proof-reading by george l. miller. when part of a book has been set up in type, in what is called "galley form," an impression is taken, technically known as "first proof," and this proof is handed to the proof-reader. this long-suffering individual lives in a chronic state of warfare with the compositors on the one hand and the author on the other. his first duty is to see that the proof agrees with the author's manuscript, that nothing has been omitted, and nothing inserted that is not in the copy. he must see, further, that the spelling, punctuation, capitalization, grammar, and so forth, are correct, and the book set according to the "style" ordered. he first of all, therefore, compares the proof with the manuscript, or an assistant reads the manuscript aloud, the proof-reader listening intently for any variation from the proof before him and marking any errors he may find. now this seems easy enough, and if every author prepared his copy carefully, so that there could be no possible mistake as to his meaning, nothing would be easier; but in practice a number of questions arise which would never be thought of by an outsider. on a new work being put in hand, some half-dozen compositors are given a few sheets of copy apiece, and if the proof-reader happens to be readily accessible he is bombarded within the first half-hour or so with, "how am i to spell centre?" "has travelling one or two l's?" "shall i capitalize the word state?" "shall i spell out two hundred?" "do you want ships' names in italic?" and so on and so on. as to punctuation, every compositor thinks he knows better than proof-reader and author combined and follows his own sweet will. as every error on the first proof must be corrected by the compositor at his own expense, here arises the cause of war mentioned in our opening paragraph. much has been written about printers' errors and the mistakes of "the intelligent compositor." aside from those caused by illegible manuscript, mistakes arise from faulty "distribution," that is to say, the type has been thrown into the wrong boxes. thus we get _c_ for _e_, _h_ for _n_, _y_ for _p_, etc., these boxes being contiguous and the letters of the same thickness; if, for instance, the compositor picked up _u_ instead of _t_ the difference in thickness would at once be noticed by him and the mistake rectified. then letters are sometimes set upside down and we find letters of a different "face" which have got into the case by mistake. in type set on machine, errors arise from striking adjacent keys, or some matrix will stick in the channel and make its appearance later, sometimes even in the next line. but the chief source of error is illegible or carelessly prepared manuscript, and to the author's slips of the pen must be added in these days the slips of the typewriter. it is quite possible for a man to be an expert in astronomy, medicine, or natural history and yet have hazy ideas on spelling and punctuation. "when in doubt use a dash" is an old standing joke, but some authors use dashes all the time, making them do duty for commas, semicolons, and periods. they will write indifferently or four and frequently their capital _a_'s _c_'s, _m_'s, and _n_'s cannot be distinguished from the small letters. they will commence a story telling that the "captain" did so and so, and lo, on the next page the "captain" sinks into a common noun; and so with "father," "mother," "aunt," "uncle," etc. just see what the story would look like if set according to copy! now the proof-reader is expected to rectify all this, thereby drawing on his head the wrath of the compositor, who says "he followed the copy," and occasionally incurring the wrath of the author as well for departing therefrom. sometimes instructions are given that the author's spelling, punctuation, etc., are to be carefully followed, when of course no question can arise; and the proof-reader will query on the proof submitted to the author anything which does not seem to him to be correct. the great newspapers and magazines have what they call a "style sheet" for the guidance of their compositors and proof-readers and insist on its being faithfully followed. only by this means could uniformity in the appearance of the paper be secured. in this style sheet careful and minute directions are given for the use of capital letters, the use of italic, spelling out of numbers, compound words, etc. in the government printing-office in washington they have a style book of some two hundred pages. some book printing-offices have what they call "the style of the office," which will be followed if no instructions are received from the author to the contrary, while some publishing houses with connections in england insist on english spelling being followed in all their books, as books with american spelling will not sell over there. here is an outline of an "office style":-- "spell and divide words according to webster's dictionary. "capitalize president and all secretaries of state, senator, congressman, governor, government (of u.s. or other country), king, emperor, republican (and all political parties), all pronouns relating to the deity, legislature, state, nation, street, avenue, (hudson) river. "use small capitals for b.c., a.d., a.m., and p.m. "use italics for names of ships, names of characters in plays, names of newspapers and magazines, and all foreign words. "use quotation marks for names of books. "spell out all numbers under . "compound co-operate, to-day, to-morrow. "use period after per cent., and roman numerals i. vi., etc. "bible references in this style: kings vii. . "all poetical quotations to be in smaller type than text." now, some authors will not accept the above style and insist on one entirely different. many will accept webster's spelling but draw the line at _theater_, which they want spelt _theatre_, and balk at _skillfully_ and _skillful_ or _installment_. they will order spelling according to the standard dictionary, yet will not accept _sulfur_, _rime_, or _worshiping_. one man wants all his numbers in figures, and another does not like compound words. still another abhors dashes or colons, or quotation marks, and yet another will not have italic type used in his work. so it frequently happens that a proof-reader will have passing through his hands three or four books in entirely different styles, each of which he must bear in mind and conform to if he would avoid trouble. but whatever style be adopted, it is essential that it be strictly adhered to throughout the work; therefore in large printing-offices where there are many proof-readers care is always taken that, however many compositors may be engaged in setting up the work, the same reader handles it from start to finish. if the proof-reader finds any passages whose meaning is not clear, or sentences of faulty construction, he will call the author's attention thereto. he will also call attention to biblical or poetical quotations which he may know to be incorrect. many authors will quote scripture or poetry from memory, which is found to vary in many respects from the original on verification. and then they complain because "the printer did not set it up right,"--when they are charged for corrections. but why should the compositor bear the expense of correction--or the master-printer for that matter--when the copy was clearly wrong in the first instance? a moment's thought will show the injustice of such a procedure. from what we have said may be seen the importance of the reading of "first proof." many offices have the proofs read twice, first without referring to the copy, when the more glaring errors may be corrected at leisure, and then again carefully read by copy. the proofs are then returned to the compositors for correction, each man correcting the portion he set up. a second proof is now taken which is put in the hands of another proof-reader (or "reviser") for revision. his business is to see that the corrections of the first reader have all been duly made. should he find any palpable errors that have been overlooked by the first reader, he will call his attention thereto and on approval mark them. it may be necessary to return the proofs again to the compositors for correction, and even a third time. when found to be what is called "clean," they are sent to the author (usually in duplicate) along with the copy. and now the author sees himself in print, perhaps for the first time. he will notice that his work presents a different appearance from what it did in manuscript. here and there a passage can be improved, a phrase polished, an idea amplified--the same man will think differently at different times; and lo, here, the stupid printer has made him speak of a marine landscape when he wrote maine landscape! (that proof-reader must be disciplined.) and here a sentence has been left out which he wrote on the back of his copy and has been skipped by compositor, copy-holder, proof-reader, and reviser alike! then the queries of the proof-reader must be answered, and a few commas here and there would improve things,--and so he proceeds to mark up his proofs, for all of which corrections he has to pay at so much per hour--second cause of war. the proofs are now returned to the printer and corrected, and a revise (after passing through the proof-reader's hands) sent to the author, which process may be repeated _ad infinitum_, until the author gives the order to make up into pages. the type is now handed over to the "make-up," and inasmuch as his work must be carefully revised by the proof-reader, we may describe it here. having first of all made a gauge showing the size of the page--supposing the page to be seven inches deep, he will cut a notch in a thin piece of wood showing that size--he must "cast off" or estimate how the pages are going to "break." there must not be any short lines, or "widows" as the printers call them,--that is, the concluding lines of paragraphs which are not full length,--at the heads of pages. the first line of a paragraph should not appear at the bottom of a page (but this rule is more honored in the breach than the observance), and the concluding page of a chapter should not be less than one-quarter page in length. these difficulties are avoided by "saving" a line here and there,--that is, where the last line of a paragraph consists of only one or two words, in squeezing them into the line above, or by "making" lines, which is accomplished by spreading long lines out and driving one or two words over. any line containing one word only at the end of a paragraph ought to overlap the indention of the first line of the next paragraph. such a word as "is" or "it" will not do so and should be turned back to the line above. then again, where cuts or illustrations are inserted in the text a page will sometimes break in the middle of a cut, which, as euclid says, is impossible, therefore the cut must be moved, sometimes necessitating slight alterations in the text, _e.g._ "the following illustration" must be altered to "the illustration on the next page," or "the illustration above," as the case may be. and here we may remark that all cuts or illustrations should be made and furnished to the printer in time to be inserted in the first proof. the writer calls to mind an instance where the cuts arrived after the whole book had been made up into pages, necessitating a re-make-up at considerable expense. proofs of the pages being furnished to the proof-reader, he first of all compares them with the author's last galley proof to see that nothing has been omitted (frequently lines fall off the ends of galleys), that they are in due sequence and "join up," and that the author's last corrections have been made. he then sees to the pagination, the running heads at top of each page, and sees that the foot-notes have been inserted in the pages where they belong and verifies the reference marks. the author will probably have used the * [symbol: dagger][symbol: double-dagger] § and they will have been so set up, as they appeared on each page of the original manuscript. but when in type and made up into pages they will probably fall differently, the note bearing the § mark may come on the following page and of course must be altered to an *, a corresponding change being made in the text. a much better plan is to number foot-notes , , and so on, when no alteration on making-up will be required. the proof-reader must also look after the "widows" and other matters before mentioned. if the book is set in linotype, the make-up will have been unable to make these changes. he will simply allow the proper space and the changes required will be marked by the proof-reader and a number of pages corrected at a time. this is a point of economy. all corrections having been made and revised, proofs are submitted to the author for his final approval. the author may find it advisable to make alterations even after his book is made up into pages, necessitating further revises; but everything finally being in order, he gives the order to print or to electrotype. if the pages are to be electrotyped or made into plates, they are "locked up" in an iron frame called a "chase," two or four together, and proofs are given to the proof-reader for a final reading. if the book is to be printed from the type, the pages are "imposed" in sheets of eight, sixteen, or thirty-two, so arranged that the folios will be in order when the sheet is folded up. they now make what is called a "form," and a proof of this--known as the "stone proof"--is taken for final reading. the proof-reader now reads the work all through, looking carefully to the spelling, punctuation, and grammar, as in reading "first proof," and more especially looking out for bad or imperfect letters. if many corrections have been made, the type is very apt to be broken and the spacing between words to become irregular. all imperfect letters must be replaced and bad spacing rectified. then again, commas, hyphens, periods, and thin letters, such as _l_, _f_, or _t_, are apt to slip out of place at the ends of lines. and here a serious source of error may be mentioned which can be found out only by reading the whole page over. in type set on the linotype machine every line is one solid piece of metal. any correction to be made involves resetting the whole line. now the compositor in inserting the new line is very apt to take out a line _beginning with the same word_, replacing it with the new one, thus making a very serious blunder, and of course the proof-reader or author who sees the next proof has no intimation that the wrong line has been tampered with. on reading the page over, however, it will be noticed that something is wrong, previous proofs can be referred to, and the mistake rectified. the proofs having been finally read, revised, and marked o. k., the pages are sent to the foundry or to press, as the case may be. but the proof-reader has not done with them yet. if the book is electrotyped, the plates may turn out faulty; sometimes the type will sink in places under the enormous pressure applied in moulding. it is therefore highly advisable that proofs should be taken of the plates and gone over for imperfections; this may save valuable time later when the book is on the press. some authors don't mind the expense of making changes in their work even after the pages are cast. the proof-reader only takes leave of the book when it is on the press and all is ready to go ahead and print. a sheet is submitted to him which he must _visé_ for bad letters, see that nothing has fallen out in transit to the pressroom, and that the pressman has not taken out any cuts to underlay and reinserted them upside down. he will also verify the folios again (if the book is printed from plates this will be the first opportunity of doing so) and see that the pages join up to what has gone before. here his work ends. paper making by herbert w. mason. the word "paper" derives its name from the ancient greek word "papyrus," the name of the material used in ancient times for writing purposes, and manufactured by the egyptians from the papyrus plant, and which was, up to the eighth century, the best-known writing material. probably the earliest manufacturers of paper were the chinese, who used the mulberry tree and other like plants for this purpose, and may be called the inventors of our modern paper manufacturing, as they have practised the art of paper making for almost two thousand years. in the ordinary book papers of to-day the materials used are largely rags and wood fibres. "esparto," a spanish grass, is used in england to a great extent, but it is too expensive to import to this country, and is, therefore, not used here. many other materials could be used to advantage, such as "bagasse," the waste material of sugar cane, and corn stalks, both of which make good book paper; also hemp, wild clover, and other plants which have a good fibre. only two kinds of rags are used, linen and cotton, of both of which there are several grades. linen rags make a very strong paper, and are mostly used in manufacturing fine writing papers, ledgers, and covers for books where strength is necessary. cotton rags may be divided into three distinct kinds, whites, blues, and colors, and these in turn are subdivided into several grades. most of the blue rags are now imported from germany, belgium, and france; none from japan as formerly. the whites and colors are bought in this country. wood fibres are divided into two classes, the harder woods, such as spruce, fir, etc., and the softer, such as poplar, cottonwood, etc. there are three ways of reducing or disintegrating wood fibres: first, by sulphurous acid or bi-sulphite of lime fumes, which gives the name "sulphite fibre"; second, by caustic soda, which is called "soda fibre"; and third, by grinding. the last is usually only used for stock in very low grades of paper, such as newspaper and wrapping paper; it is rarely used for book paper. many persons think that this ground wood, which is merely spruce ground very fine into pulp, is used in book papers; but if it were, the paper would not last long, and would almost immediately discolor on exposure to light and air. there is a theory that no paper made from wood fibres is lasting, and that therefore high grades of paper for fine books should be made only of rags, but this is erroneous, for wood stock and rag stock nowadays are treated and prepared in the same way, and only practically pure cellulose matter goes into the paper. it would be a different matter, however, if _ground_ wood were used for fine papers, for in this stock the cellulose matter is not separated. rags are usually purchased by the paper manufacturer in solid bales, which have been graded into whites, blues, or colors. after being opened, they are thrown into a thrashing machine, which thrashes and shakes out the greater part of the loose dust and dirt. later, they are sorted more carefully by hand into several grades, according to their colors and cleanliness. all the woollens, gunny, buttons, hooks and eyes, silks, and foreign materials are thrown aside. as the rags are usually too large to be thrown into the boilers to be cooked, they are cut into very small pieces by means of sharp revolving knives, to which they are fed rapidly from an endless belt. when cut, they are packed into a revolving kettle or boiler, called a "rotary," and cooked with caustic soda and lime for several hours, to disintegrate the fibres, separate the cellulose matter, and "start" the colors. the rags, after coming out of the boiler, look very dark, and are all mashed together. they are then thrown into a tub of water and revolved horizontally by means of a large wheel fitted with radial knives, which tear and bruise them while water continually runs in and out, carrying away the dirt. in a few hours the rags look much cleaner, and a small amount of chlorate of lime and sulphuric acid is run in to bleach them white. after having been thoroughly stirred for a while, the stock is run into what is called a drainer, where it is allowed to stand for several hours to drain off as much water as possible. liquid chloride of lime, which is used for bleaching, and sulphuric acid is then run over the fibre, which in turn is drained and washed off again. by this time the pulp is white enough to be sent to the beaters, to be prepared for the paper machines, and is called "half-stock." wood fibres for book papers are usually treated in the same general way as rags. first, the logs are peeled and are cut into suitable lengths to be thrown into a wood chopper and cut up in very small pieces. if the wood is treated by sulphurous acid or bi-sulphite of lime fumes, it is called the "sulphite process"; if by caustic soda, the "soda process." this wood is cooked in large upright kettles called "digesters." in one case the sulphite fumes are allowed to permeate through the wood under a high pressure, and in the other the caustic soda is put in "straight," and the wood is cooked under a high pressure of steam. this is done to dissolve out all the gum and resins, in order to leave the pure cellulose matter. after the cooking is done, the stock has to be bleached in very much the same way as the rags and washed thoroughly before it is ready for the "beaters." for "beating," the stock is thrown into a large revolving tub. rag and wood fibre may be mixed in different proportions, according to the grade of the paper wanted. the stock is then washed a little to be sure that it is clean and white. water at first is mixed in with the fibre until it is so diluted that it will flow freely; then it is beaten for several hours by means of an iron wheel covered with iron or steel knives about one-quarter of an inch thick, which revolves over an iron bed-plate with similar knives. during this beating process, clay is mixed with the stock, mainly to give the paper a well-filled and better appearance, and not, as most people think, to add weight, although this is sometimes an object. sizing material is also added, which helps to keep the fibres together and hold the ink in printing. if it is desired to give the paper a white shade, a small amount of aniline blue or pink is mixed in; otherwise it is called "natural" or "unblued." the beating part of the process of paper making is the most important. the stock has to be beaten up so that all the fibres are separated and broken into just the right lengths according to the weight and strength of the paper to be made. the harder the roll is set down on the bed plate, the shorter the fibre will be and _vice versa_, but if the roll is not put down hard, the stock has to be beaten so much longer. "machining" may be divided into five processes:-- _first._ when the stock leaves the beater it is run into a large "stuff" chest, and is continually being stirred so that it will not be lumpy. by this time the pulp is about as clean as possible and is ready for the paper machines. the first thing to be done on the machine is to dilute the stock with pure water to the consistency of buttermilk, according to the thickness of the paper required. then this liquid stock runs through what are called "sand settlers," which are supposed to collect what dirt, iron, etc., remain. _second._ from the sand settlers the stock runs on to a screen, through which it is drawn by means of suction. this process prevents fibres which are lumpy and too long from getting on to the machine, and allows only those of a certain size and length to go forward to be made into paper. an endless and very fine wire cloth, which is continually moving at the same rate of speed as the rest of the paper machine, takes the stock after it has been screened. this is the first step toward making the material into actual paper. thick rubber straps on each side of the wire determine the width of the paper. this wire shakes a little in order to weave the fibres together while in a state of suspension. at this period the stock looks like thick cream, but soon changes its appearance to the form of a sheet more or less solid on coming to the end of the wire, where there is what is called a "dandy,"--a roll covered with similar wire cloth pressing lightly on the paper as it runs along the wire. designs in relief on the surface of this roll produce the well-known marks called "water marks." just beyond the "dandy," underneath the wire, is a suction box which draws enough of the water out so that the paper can go through the "couch" roll at the end of the wire without being crumbled. [illustration: cross-section of a paper machine.] _third._ the couch roll is a small hard roll covered with a thick felt called a "jacket," and is used on the paper machine to prevent the paper from being crushed, for it presses out much of the water and flattens the paper so that it will pass from the wire to the felts without breaking and through the press rolls without crushing. from this couch roll the paper leaves the wire and is carried along on an endless woollen felt to the press rolls, which are made of hard rubber, steel, or brass. these rolls press the fibres together well, squeezing out more of the water and flattening the sheet. _fourth._ from the press felts the paper is carried to the "dryer felts," which in turn carry the paper to the "dryers," which revolve and by means of the felt carry the paper along to the next dryer, and so on. the dryers are hollow iron or steel cylinders, heated by means of the exhaust steam from the engines which run the machine. more or less steam is allowed to run into the dryers, according to the quality of paper being made. _fifth._ as soon as the paper has been carried over all the dryers, during which time it becomes, perfectly dry, it is run through a set of so-called steel "chilled rolls," at the end of the machine, which are under pressure and which give the paper a fairly smooth surface for ordinary type printing. if a rough surface is desired, the paper is simply wound on reels from the dryers. super-calendered papers are those which have a high finish and smooth surface, and are used for cuts, lithographic work, magazine papers, and ordinary illustrations. to calender paper, it is run through a series of alternate "chilled" and "paper" rolls. the chilled rolls are made of steel and have a very smooth and even surface. the "paper" roll is made of circular discs of thin, but strong manila paper, clamped together on an iron shaft, and then put under hydraulic pressure, this pressure being increased constantly until it reaches one hundred tons of pressure to the inch. the rolls are sometimes kept under this pressure for five or six weeks, and then are turned on a lathe into a true and smooth cylinder, and finally burnished by being revolved against each other. a "cotton" roll, used at times in place of the "paper" roll, is made in the same manner, except it is made of pieces of cotton cloth instead of thin manila paper. there is a heavy pressure on these rolls, and the paper goes through at a high rate of speed. when an especially smooth surface is wanted, steam is run on the paper as it unwinds, dampening it and giving the web a surface like that on ironed linen. "coated" paper is treated differently, being covered with a fine coating, which, after super-calendering, gives the paper a glazed and smooth surface for fine half-tone illustrations. clay, mixed with casein, the product of skimmed milk, or glue, is the chief material used for coating. it is put on the paper by means of large brushes. then it is dried by fans and passed through a long passageway heated by steam to a high temperature. after being reeled, it is allowed to stand for a while to harden; then is run several times through the calenders to get the smooth surface. if a high, glazed finish is necessary, steam is put on while running through the calenders. this gives a very bright surface for fine lithographic work. for the best coated papers, instead of clay, sulphate of lime and sometimes sulphate of barium is used, with glue or casein. formaldehyde, a chemical compound, is used to prevent decomposition in the coating materials; and soda or borax is used to "cut" or dissolve the casein or glue. if the paper is to be printed "from the web," that is, from the roll, it first has to be trimmed to the correct width, then wound tightly under a high pressure to a certain thickness, then the rolls are packed up in wrapping paper ready to be shipped. some rolls contain as much as five miles of paper. when the paper is to be put up in sheets, it has to be cut to exactly the correct width and length on the cutting machine. it is all very carefully sorted--the imperfect sheets being thrown out--counted and packed in wooden cases, or done up with strong wrapping paper in bundles, ready to be sent to the printer. presswork by walter j. berwick. books are printed in "forms," or sheets, of four, eight, twelve, twenty-four, or thirty-two pages at a time, the number being determined to a great extent by the size of the type page and by the class of the work. an ordinary twelvemo book, without illustrations in the text, is usually printed in forms of thirty-two pages, on what is known as a single-cylinder flat-bed press, which prints only one side of the paper at an impression. for large editions, the size of the sheet of paper is sometimes doubled and sixty-four pages printed at a time. the class of work in question may also be printed on perfecting presses which print both sides of the paper at one time, and in this way as many as one hundred and twenty-eight pages are frequently printed on one sheet, there being sixty-four pages on each side. large editions of books having small pages, such as small bibles, are often printed two hundred and fifty-six pages (one hundred and twenty-eight on each side) at one time. high grade, illustrated books are always printed on one side of the sheet at a time, the reverse side being printed after the first impression has dried properly. thus a smooch, or "offset," the result of handling the paper before the ink has become dry, is prevented. for convenience, i shall describe the process of printing a book from electrotype plates on a press which prints thirty-two pages at a time and on only one side of the paper. before ordering his paper, the publisher must first determine the size of the paper page of his proposed book, and from this arrive at the necessary size of the sheets of paper. he must also determine the thickness of the paper needed to give the finished book its proper bulk. if the book is to be trimmed on top, bottom, and front, about one-eighth of an inch must be allowed on top and front for the binder to trim off, and about one-fourth of an inch on the bottom. the dimensions from back to front, including the amount left for the "trim," should be multiplied by eight; and the page dimension the other way, including the trim, by four. this would give the size of paper needed. as an illustration, if the trimmed size of a book is - /  Ã�  - / inches, the paper should be  Ã�  inches. if the book is printed pages at a time, the paper should be  Ã�  ; and if pages at a time,  Ã�  . the quality of the paper and the size of the sheet being decided upon, and the number of pages known, any large paper house can tell the weight necessary to give the required thickness to the book. on receipt of the printing order, with directions as to whether the book is to be trimmed or not, the printer first makes up what is called a "form" of so-called "patent" blocks on which the stereotype or electrotype plates are placed during the printing of the book. these blocks are made of wood or iron planed to an even thickness of about three-fourths of an inch, so that when an electrotype plate is placed upon one, it will take only a few thicknesses of thin paper between it and the electrotyped page to make the whole "type-high," that is, as high as an ordinary piece of type. two adjacent edges of these blocks are bound with strips of brass, which project above the block and are turned over slightly, so as to receive the two bevelled edges of the electrotype plate. the other two edges are provided with movable clamps, which are screwed tight against the flat edges of the electrotype plate by means of ratchets, thus holding the plate firmly in its place. in practice, the longer of the two brass-bound edges is called the "back" of the block and the shorter one the "head," the other long edge being known as the "front" and the other short edge, the "foot." these terms, as a matter of fact, originated from the use of the same words in describing the printed page of a book, the "back" corresponding with the side of the page next to the binding of the book, the "head" being the top of the book, and so on. one-half of a set of blocks--thirty-two being a set in this case--are made with the backs on the left and one-half with the backs on the right edge of the block. the common way is to place thirty-two of these blocks, in four rows of eight blocks each, in a "chase," or iron frame, with a cross-bar in the centre. thus sixteen blocks are on each side of the cross-bar, and all have their backs toward it. the form then appears like this:-- [illustration: blocks, cross-bar.] strips of wood, called "furniture," are then used to fill up the spaces between the blocks, care being taken to see that all the backs, fronts, and heads are in uniform positions. as some people prefer the printed pages of a book to be near the centre of the paper pages, while others like the head and back margins to be much narrower than the margins at the front and foot, the distances between the blocks must be arranged according to the taste of the publisher or the author. after the blocks have been spaced as desired, and the spaces filled with furniture, the form is "locked up," or tightened securely, with wedge-shaped pieces of iron called "quoins," and it is then placed in position on the bed of the press, securely fastened by screw clamps, and "making ready" for printing is begun. notwithstanding the care that has been taken to have all the "patent" blocks and the electrotype plates of even and uniform thickness, there is almost never a case where a form can be put on the press and printed off properly without considerable work being required to make the surface of the plates absolutely flat so that the entire printed part of the page will receive the same amount of ink and will press evenly on the paper. the first step in making a press "ready" is to place a sheet of heavy cardboard around the cylinder, and over it draw a smooth piece of muslin or cotton cloth. this is called the "packing." in many of the best offices this sheet of heavy cardboard is not used, but in its place is a patent make-ready called "tympalyn." over this a thick sheet of manila paper is shrunk, it being pasted under clamps on the front of the cylinder, and carried around and fastened to hooks on a rod on the back. the rod is then turned until the sheet is perfectly tight and smooth. while the pressman is laying out his plates the feeder should be cutting thin sheets of paper the size of one of the plates. some of these papers are cut about one inch shorter than the plates for "bevels," and these are pasted on the middle of the full-size pieces. these bevels and the larger "blank" sheets are to go between the plates and the blocks to overcome any variation there may be in the thickness and to make the surface of the form as nearly level as possible. the "bevels" raise the centres very slightly above the edges of the plate, thus reducing the pressure of the cylinder at the points of contact and departure, and saving the plates from wear. the cylinder being properly packed, and the form of blocks fastened on the press so that the impression of the form will come in the middle of the paper sheets, it is necessary to know whether the binder is to fold the sheets by hand or by machine, and if the latter, what kind of machine, as different ones require different "imposition" or arrangement of pages. this being decided, the plates are fastened on the blocks so arranged that when the sheet is cut and folded the pages of the book will run consecutively. before levelling up the form with the bevels and blank sheets, the plates of all open or short pages, if any, are replaced with solid pages, as these sheets and underlay are to remain through the printing of all the forms of the book. the rollers are now put in the press and adjusted to just touch the inking table, the ink put on the rollers and distributed, and one impression printed on one of several sheets of thin paper which are run through the press together.[ ] this printed sheet is then turned face down by the pressman and any unevenness of the impression noted. one of the printed pages is taken as a standard and by removing as many pieces of the thin sheets as necessary from under the plates where the impression is too heavy, and by adding where it is not heavy enough, the surface of the form is finally "evened," or made as nearly equal as possible. [footnote : if one sheet of paper were run through the press before "making ready," it would not receive any impression, there being a space equal to the thickness of ten sheets of paper between the cylinder and the surface of the type. a bunch of six or eight sheets is therefore run through to get an impression for "make-ready" purposes.] after this another impression is taken, and of this sheet an "underlay" is made to further "even up" the form. the low places in the individual plates are carefully marked with crayon or a soft pencil on the impression, and the spots so marked are covered with a piece of thin paper. the printed pages are then cut out a little larger than the type page, and placed under the plates from which they were printed. the plates of the solid pages, which had been substituted for the open pages, are now removed, and the open pages are put back in their places on the form. up to this point, all the "making ready" which has been done, is of permanent use in printing all of the forms of the book in question. the work that follows has to be done on each form as it is put on the press. more thin sheets of paper are now run through the press, the number run through together being one less than were printed for the underlay. these printed sheets are used for "overlays," which are very much like an underlay except that much more care is taken in marking any uneven places. a thinner paper is used to bring up the low places in the plates. an impression of the form is then made on the manila paper sheet which had, as before mentioned, been drawn around the cylinder, and on this printed manila sheet this overlay is pasted, the impression on the manila paper being a guide for the placing of the overlay. another overlay is now made in the same way as the first; only it will now be found, if the work has been properly done, that there will be only a few spots to be covered with tissue. after this overlay has been made and the necessary pieces pasted over the first one, a thin sheet of manila is smoothly and tightly drawn around the cylinder, covering completely the thick manila sheet with the pasted overlays on it. the form is then ready to print. while the feeder, as the man who feeds the paper into the press is called, has been "filling in" the overlay, the pressman should have been getting "register,"--that is, moving the plates so that the headlines and the sides of the plates align properly, and that when both sides of the paper have been printed, the pages will exactly back each other. the ink fountain should also have been so regulated by means of thumb-screws that the right amount of ink will run on the rollers and be distributed evenly over the form. where too much ink shows on the printed sheet, the thumb-screws on the fountain are tightened a little, to decrease the flow, and where not enough ink shows the thumb-screws are loosened to increase its flow. this process is repeated until the "color" is all right. the grippers, which seize and carry the sheets of paper through the press, the reels, cylinder bands, and many other things have also to be adjusted. these cannot well be described, but have to be learned by actual experience. the "making ready" and watching the sheets as they come from the press to see that the "color" does not vary, is the skilful part of the process. the feeding can be done by a bright boy after a few weeks' experience, but is now done automatically by machines to a great extent. while the press was being made ready, another set of men in charge of the paper have taken it out of the cases or bundles, counted out the number of sheets required for each form, piled it on hand trucks, keeping that required for each form separate, and have delivered it to the press. if a machine feeder is used, the paper is piled on the elevator of the feeder, from which it is automatically taken, one sheet at a time, and delivered on endless tapes to gauges on the feed board of the press, thus bringing every sheet in the same position each time. the number of sheets required for the order are printed from one form on one side and then from another form on the other side. from the preceding it can be seen that to get a press ready may be a matter of hours, while, in the case of ordinary book work, a press generally prints from to impressions and more per hour. the principal difference between making ready a form on a flat-bed perfecting press with two cylinders and on a single-cylinder press is in extra work necessary to obtain correct registering of the plates and in preventing an offset of the fresh ink on the second cylinder. otherwise, a perfecting press is very much like two cylinder presses joined together. it has two sets of rollers, two ink fountains, two cylinders, two forms, etc., but only one feed board and one delivery. the sheet is fed to one cylinder and printed, taken from this cylinder by the second and printed on the second side, and delivered on the "fly board" ready to go to the shipping department. the process of making ready forms containing illustrations is practically the same as for plain ones, except that a new underlay is made for each form, and much more care and skill must be used on the cuts themselves. it frequently happens that one or even two days are spent making ready a form of half-tone cuts, before the actual printing, which takes perhaps half a day to do, can be begun. in most offices, a special "cut overlay" is made for forms with cuts, or illustrations. the cut is placed on a hand press before the form is made up, and proofs on four different thicknesses of paper are made. the heaviest paper is used as a bottom sheet, and the others are pasted on it. out of the next to the thickest paper of all, the solid blacks are cut and pasted accurately on the same places on the bottom sheet. from the second or next thinner sheet, the medium shades including the solid blacks are cut and pasted on the bottom sheet, thus building up the blacks and strong shadows. from the thinnest sheet of all, the high lights and very light shades are cut, and the rest of the sheet is pasted on the bottom one. in this way the solid blacks and dark shadows on the cut have three thicknesses on the overlay; the next shades two, and the light shades one, where the high lights are cut out altogether. this is the common form of "cut overlay" used in most offices; but there are many other kinds, some being made on metal by chemical action. all kinds are fastened carefully over the impression of the cut made on the heavy manila sheet covering the cylinder, and the cut must not be moved on the form after the overlay has been fastened on the cylinder, or the effect of all the work will be entirely lost. one of the great troubles which the printer has to contend with, is electricity in the paper. the pressman is unaware of its presence until he lifts a printed sheet from the pile and receives a slight shock, and finds the sheets stick together. in the case of a cut form, the ink is almost sure to be offset, and in printing the second side of the paper the feeder will have to stop frequently to separate the sheets. much money has been spent and many devices originated to overcome this trouble. ink manufacturers make a liquid preparation to be applied to the packing. a row of lighted gas-jets placed near the point where the sheet goes on to the "flyboard," a heated steam-pipe, and many other things have been used, but a new device by which electricity is generated and carried into the press, and there neutralizes the electricity in the paper, is the best of them all. the printed sheets are counted automatically by the press, and as fast as enough accumulate, they are piled on hand trucks and removed to the shipping room. here they are "jogged up" so that the edges are even and are counted again by hand. if they are to be shipped away, they are tied up in bundles or nailed in cases and marked for shipment. if the bindery is connected with the pressroom, they are simply jogged, counted, and piled on trucks and delivered in this way. the printing press by otto l. raabe. throughout the stages of development of the book-printing press the chief object has been to lessen the cost of printing. whether the direct purpose of an improvement has been to increase the working speed of the press, to lessen the necessary operating power, to simplify the mechanism, to strengthen the parts, to lighten the pressman's labor, or to better the quality of printing, the ultimate aim has always been the same. it has been the constant incentive to invention and the standard for judging the adaptability of a press. the first printing press was the "wooden screw" press, which came into use about the middle of the fifteenth century, and was built upon the same mechanical principle as the linen presses in the homes of the well-to-do. this was the press used by gutenberg. it consisted of two upright timbers held together at the top and the bottom by crosspieces of wood and with two intermediate cross-timbers. one of these intermediate cross-timbers supported a wooden or stone "bed" on which the form of type was placed, and through the other passed a large wooden screw, the lower point of which was attached to the centre of a flat, wooden plate, called the "platen." the lower side of the platen was covered with a soft "packing" or "blanket" of cloth. after the type had been inked, a sheet of paper was laid on it. this paper had previously been dampened so that it would take a better impression of the type. the screw was then turned down until the platen pressed the paper against the inked type, and produced a printed sheet. the form of type was incased in a frame called a "coffin." these coffins and the type within them were very heavy, but they had to be lifted in and out of the press by hand. after each impression the platen was screwed upward so that the sheet of paper which had been printed could be removed and hung up to dry. this simple form of press continued in use without material change until the early part of the seventeenth century. the first improvements on it came about , and consisted of a device for rolling in and out the wooden or stone bed on which the type rested instead of lifting it by hand, of a new form of iron hand-lever for turning the screw, and of an iron screw in place of the wooden one. these were the inventions of william janson blaeuw, a printer of amsterdam. blaeuw's press was introduced into england and used there as well as on the continent. it was substantially the same press as that on which benjamin franklin worked when in london in . after this first type of printing press had been in use for three and a half centuries, a much-improved form was invented by the earl of stanhope in . the frame of his press was made of iron, cast in one piece; the bed, the impression plate, or "platen," and the other large parts were also of cast iron, while the working parts were of iron, steel, or brass. the iron impression screw was retained, but connected to it was a combination of levers whereby its power was greatly increased. this enabled the printing of larger forms and the use of a thinner and harder "packing," or "tympan," between the platen and the sheet of paper to be printed, resulting in a sharper and clearer impression. much less exertion was required to work the lever, and at first, on this account, a printer, who was accustomed to use all his physical force on the old screw press, found it difficult to work on the new one. this improved style of press was received with so much favor by printers that several persons took up its manufacture, and competition soon reduced its cost and brought it into general use for printing newspapers as well as books. the process of printing remained about the same as in the earlier presses. two men were required to work it. one spread the ink on a wooden block, rolling over it with two leather-covered balls, about six inches in diameter, stuffed with wool or horsehair, and fastened to round wooden handles. holding one of these inking balls in each hand, he then rolled one upon the other to distribute the ink evenly over both of them, and applied the ink to the face of the type by rocking the balls over it until the entire form was inked. while this was being done, the other man was placing the sheet of paper on the "tympan." this was a light frame, in two parts, really forming two frames, one inside the other, and both covered with parchment. there was a woollen or felt blanket between them, and the two frames were held together by hooks. the outer frame was hinged at its lower end to the outer end of the bed of the press, and when ready to receive the paper, it stood in a nearly upright position at about right angles to the bed. on the frame were two or four pins, upon which the sheet of paper was impaled. attached to the upper end of the inner frame by hinges was a thin and narrow frame, called the "frisket," of the same length and width as the inner tympan frame. this frisket was covered with strong paper in which were openings, cut a little larger than the size of the pages of the type-form. when the sheets of paper had been placed upon the tympan frame, the frisket was folded down upon it, and the two were then turned down over the form of type. the bed was then "run in" under the platen by means of a crank at the side of the press, and the platen was screwed down to make the impression. after the impression had been taken, the platen was screwed up, the bed "run out," the tympan frame and frisket lifted, and the printed sheet taken off. the introduction of this stanhope press gave a great impetus to the development of the printing press in other countries as well as in england, and many varieties were devised during the thirty years following. although as early as koenig had made a cylinder press which had proved fairly successful, the better grades of printing could be obtained only by the flat pressure of the hand-presses. in some of these hand presses, the platen, or upper impression plate, was moved into position over the bed and remained stationary while the bed with the type-form upon it was forced upward to make the impression. in others, the platen was hinged to the bed, but in all of them the mechanism was complicated. the "columbian" press, devised by george clymer, of philadelphia, in , gained considerable distinction both in this country and in england, where it was introduced in . it differed from the stanhope in that the screw was dispensed with, the platen being depressed by a combination of levers and lifted by the aid of a weighted balance-lever. the reduction of the hand-lever movement to its simplest and most powerful form is now seen in the washington hand press, devised by samuel rust, of new york, in . his patent was later purchased by r. hoe & co., who made nearly seven thousand of these presses in different sizes and still make many of a greatly strengthened pattern for taking fine proofs from photo-engraved plates. some of these presses made before are still in use, and occasionally one hears of a washington hand press being used for printing upon handmade paper an edition of a small and limited number of copies of a book. of all the hand presses, this is the only one that has survived to the present day. with the introduction of other means for applying power than the hand-lever, a distinction came to be drawn between printing _presses_ and printing _machines_. the term "machine" might perhaps be more appropriately used for the huge printing presses of the present day, yet, as the first essential is the impression power, all other features being subordinate, the term "press" is still the proper one to apply, even to the greatest combination of printing units yet devised. the "bed and platen" system of printing as first used in hand presses occupies such an important place in the history of the book-printing press that a further description of its career is necessary. in december, , friedrich koenig, a saxon, who later gave to the world the first practical cylinder press, went from germany to england to seek assistance in carrying out his plans for the construction of a greatly improved printing press, having failed in his efforts in his own country and in russia. he succeeded in enlisting the support of thomas bensley, a london printer, and constructed a press in which all the operations but laying on and taking off of the sheet were performed mechanically. an accurate description of this press is not extant, but it is known to have consisted of a large wooden frame, a platen worked by a vertical screw and gears, a type-bed drawn forward and backward by means of straps fastened to a large roller underneath the bed, a tympan frame and frisket arranged to open and close automatically with the movement of the bed, and an inking apparatus, consisting of an ink-box with a narrow slit in the bottom through which the ink was forced by a piston upon a roller below, from which it was transmitted by two intermediate rollers to another and lower roller which inked the form as it passed underneath. the two intermediate rollers had an alternating, lateral motion which spread or distributed the ink sideways before it reached the lowest roller. this press was the first to have ink-distributing rollers and the first to be run by steam power. in april, , the "annual register" for was printed on it by mr. bensley at the rate of eight hundred impressions an hour. nothing further is recorded about this press, and it was probably abandoned as being too complicated. in the following year, koenig's first cylinder press was completed, to be followed two years later by an improved cylinder press made for the _london times_, which will be referred to farther on. in his experiments, the earl of stanhope had tried, without success, to find a substitute for inking-balls by making rollers covered with different kinds of skins. he also tried other materials, such as cloth, silk, etc., but the unavoidable seam and the impossibility of keeping these materials soft and pliable defeated his purpose. about inking-rollers made of a composition of glue and molasses came into general use, and this important invention was of great assistance in the further improvement of the printing press. other cylinder presses with mechanical inking appliances were devised and patented, the most notable of which were those of rutt, bacon, cowper, applegath, and napier, but the mechanical imperfections of these presses unfitted them for the better grades of book printing. further efforts were, therefore, directed to increasing the output of the bed and platen presses by the application of improved inking devices, sheet-feeding, and impression mechanisms. about there was constructed by d. napier, a machinist in london, a press containing such appliances which produced six to seven hundred impressions an hour. other presses constructed upon the same principle, but with two type-beds, two sets of friskets, two inking mechanisms--and only one platen, in the centre of the press--were made by hopkinson & cope and by napier, and were known as "double platen machines," though this is really a misnomer as there was only one platen. napier's invention achieved the greatest popularity and came into general use. at each end of his press there was an inking device, a type-bed, and a frisket, each set of which operated alternately with the other, but either could be made inoperative if the "feeder," or "layer-on," failed to place the sheet in time. four boys, besides the printer, were required--two to lay on, and two to take off the sheets. when the type-bed and the frisket carrying the sheet of paper were in position under the platen, the latter was drawn downward to make the impression by means of a "toggle" joint which acted upon two strong rods, one on each side, and was then raised again by a counterbalance weight. owing to the awkward method of handling the paper, the working speed of the press was necessarily slow, and the size of the sheets limited to double royal, or  Ã�  inches. the best presses of this type were those devised and patented by isaac adams, of boston, in and , and by otis tufts, also of boston, in . r. hoe & co., of new york, acquired adams' business in and continued the manufacture of his presses. over one thousand in many different sizes were made by this firm, the largest printing a sheet  Ã�  inches at a working speed of one thousand impressions an hour. the last adams press was made in , but quite a number are still in use in prominent printing-offices in new york, boston, and a few other cities, where the results on fine book work are still considered better than from the faster cylinder presses. the mechanical principle employed in the adams press for exerting a flat, parallel pressure has now been generally adopted for heavy stamping and embossing presses. to go back to the early part of the nineteenth century, when koenig found his bed and platen press impracticable, he immediately set to work, assisted by one of his countrymen, andreas bauer, a mechanic who had helped him formerly, and in the latter part of , the first flat-bed cylinder press was erected by them in bensley's office. the cylinder of this press had three impression surfaces with spaces between them, and each covered with a soft blanket. with each forward movement of the type-bed the cylinder made one-third of a revolution and then came to a standstill, while the bed returned to its starting-point. the spaces between the impression surfaces allowed the type-form to pass under the cylinder without touching the blankets. at the end of the cylinder and at equal distances along its circumference were hinged three frisket frames, each fitted with tapes having reel springs at one end. the frisket frame of the uppermost impression surface rested in a vertically inclined position against the high framework of the inking mechanism. the sheet of paper was placed upon the blanket, and the cylinder then turned forward, drawing the frisket frame down with it, while the tapes, kept taut by the reel springs, adjusted themselves to the curvature of the cylinder and held the sheet upon it. after one-third of a revolution, the cylinder came to a stop to let the type-bed return. on the next forward movement of the bed and the next one-third of a revolution of the cylinder, the impression was made, and on the next repetition of these movements, the sheet was taken off by hand, and the cylinder returned to its original position to have another sheet placed on the first frisket. at every complete revolution of the cylinder and three complete reciprocating movements of the bed, three sheets were printed. the inking mechanism was similar to that employed on the bed and platen press, but the mechanism for forcing the ink through the slit in the bottom of the fountain was improved. the inking-rollers were covered with leather as before. the type-bed was moved by a very ingenious mechanism which is in use even at the present time, and is described farther on, when the two-revolution press is mentioned. the different parts were not connected with each other, the cylinder, the type-bed, the inking-rollers, and the fountain being operated independently by separate driving mechanisms. this press printed eight hundred sheets an hour, on one side. a part of clarkson's "life of william penn" was printed on this press, and was the first book ever printed on a cylinder press. printers and publishers were sceptical as to the practical value of this novel invention, but mr. john walter, the proprietor of the _london times_, with better foresight than the others, and needing increased facilities for printing his paper, contracted for two presses, each to have two impression cylinders. these were constructed for him with great secrecy in a building adjoining the pressroom of the _times_, and on november , , the entire edition of that paper was printed on them,--the first cylinder presses driven by steam power. the mechanical principles were the same as in the first cylinder press. there were two impression cylinders, but only one type-bed, and the latter had, therefore, to travel a greater distance than in the single-cylinder press. this made it impossible to obtain quite double the output of the single-cylinder press, but each of these new presses produced eleven hundred impressions an hour, a very respectable performance for that early stage. the threefold motion of the cylinders was retained, but the frisket frames were displaced, and tapes running over rollers and underneath the cylinders held the sheets against the impression surfaces. an improvement was also made in the inking mechanism by the addition of an intermediate roller between the fountain and the upper distributing cylinder roller. the next step in advance was the construction of the first of the so-called perfecting presses, which was patented, december , , and erected in mr. bensley's office in or . this press had two type-beds and two impression cylinders, one of each near either end of the press. the cylinders instead of having a threefold motion revolved continuously. the circumference of each corresponded approximately to the distance traversed by one of the beds. the part of the cylinder which made the impression was a little larger in diameter than the remainder, the low portion giving the necessary room for the type-bed to return without touching it. the board from which the sheets were "fed" was near the centre of the press, and at the top adjoining the feed board was an endless belt made of cloth as wide as the board and running with an intermittent motion over two rollers. the sheet of paper was laid upon this belt, which then moved forward, carrying the sheet between the tapes and leading it to the top of, down and around, the first cylinder where it received the first impression. thence the sheet was conveyed by the tapes to the top of and around the second impression cylinder and was printed on the reverse side, that is "perfected," and it was then taken from the lower side of the second cylinder by hand and laid upon a board in the centre of the press, between the two impression cylinders and underneath the feed board. this press printed both sides of a sheet  Ã�  - / inches at a speed of nine hundred to one thousand an hour. shortly afterward a single-cylinder press was constructed upon the same principle, the forerunner of what is now known as the single large or drum cylinder press. within the next few years, applegath and cowper greatly simplified the presses in the _times_ and in bensley's office by removing many of the gear wheels. they also invented the first inking-table, a flat, iron plate attached to the type-bed which enabled the rollers to distribute the ink more evenly than before. they placed rollers at an angle across the ink-table and introduced the revolving roller and the scraping blade in the ink-fountain. more important, however, were napier's inventions about , of "grippers" which seized the sheet of paper at its front edge and drew it from the feed board, while the cylinder was in motion, and of a method of alternately depressing and raising the impression cylinders on the forward and backward stroke of the type-bed, making it unnecessary to have a part of the cylinders of smaller diameter than the rest to allow the type to pass under it as the bed returned. this made it possible to use cylinders of a smaller diameter. these improvements were first embodied in a perfecting press made for hansard, a london printer. although a number of presses were already being operated by steam power, hansard, in his description of the napier bed and platen press (the "nay-peer," he called it) finds a peculiar advantage in that "it supersedes the necessity of steam power, as the motion of this machine is gained by two men turning a fly-wheel which acts as the impelling power." i have described the development of the printing press up to this state with considerable detail, because it discloses the main principles of the book press of the present day. during the first quarter of the last century, the manufacture of cylinder presses was confined to england, not only because london was then the leading centre of civilization, but because nowhere else could be found the mechanical facilities for constructing the large metal frames and parts. koenig left london for his native land in , dejected by the treatment he had received at the hands of bensley, both in financial matters and in the attempts to disparage his achievements. he was followed two years later by his friend bauer, and together they founded the firm of koenig & bauer at oberzell, where it still thrives as one of the largest factories in germany. it was not long, however, before the united states took the lead in the number of presses manufactured as well as in their improvement, and the present high state of efficiency of american presses makes them models which are copied in all other countries. these improvements and the perfections of details often presented problems which were more difficult to solve than those of the earlier inventors, and thousands of patents have been granted to americans for new and ingenious devices. the firm of r. hoe & co., which as early as was already engaged in the manufacture of hand-presses in new york, commenced about to manufacture flat-bed cylinder presses, beginning with the single large or drum cylinder press which was followed soon afterward by the single small cylinder and the double small cylinder press, the flat-bed perfecting press, the stop-cylinder press, the two-revolution press, and the rotary book press. they also made and are still making large newspaper and color presses which are used all over the civilized world, but of these we will not treat here. as stated at the beginning of this article the chief object in press making has always been to lessen the cost of printing, but after increased speed had been attained, there came a demand for a press that would produce the finest quality of printing without sacrificing the quantity produced. to meet this no press has ever surpassed the stop cylinder. it has been made in several different sizes, the largest having a type-bed  Ã�  inches. resting upon and attached to a heavy iron foundation are two iron side frames which are securely braced together by an upper iron frame, called the "rib." this upper frame contains four tracks faced with hard steel, on which run a series of friction rollers, supporting the iron type-bed. attached to the front of the type-bed is an iron plate, called the ink-table, its surface level with the surface of the type-form as it lies upon the bed. at the front of the press is the ink-fountain and a number of steel and composition rollers, called the "distributing rollers." the ink is delivered a little at a time from the fountain to the revolving distributing rollers, and from them to the ink-table which moves under the rollers with the motion of the type-bed. by this means the ink is distributed upon the entire surface of the ink-table in a thin, even film. from the ink-table the ink is taken by a set of six rollers, called the "form rollers." resting on the form rollers and moving in contact with them are additional rollers which help to distribute the ink still finer before it reaches the type. the impression cylinder is located at a distance from the front of the press of about two-thirds of the entire length of the press. the circumference of the cylinder is equal to the distance that the type-bed travels in one direction. when the type-bed moves from the front to the rear, the cylinder rotates in unison with it, and thus the cylinder makes one revolution. while the bed returns the cylinder does not move. near the rear of the press is a large wooden board extending across the press and lying in a slightly inclined position with its lower edge almost directly above the centre of the impression cylinder. this is the "feed board" upon which the sheets of paper lie before they are printed. the impression cylinder has a set of grippers, and when the cylinder is at rest, these grippers are close to the edge of the feed board and stand open to receive the edge of the sheet of paper. extending a little over the front of the feed board are two gauges against which the front edge of the sheet of paper is placed, while one side edge of the sheet is placed against a gauge at the side of the feed board. just an instant before the cylinder commences to rotate, the grippers seize the front edge of the sheet, and the gauges lift out of the way. the cylinder then carries the sheet around, meets the moving inked form, and makes the impression. before the cylinder completes its revolution, the grippers open and release the sheet, and at the same instant another set of grippers on an adjoining cylinder, called the "delivery cylinder," seize the sheet. from this delivery cylinder the sheet runs down over a set of strings, and is lifted off the strings by a sort of fan, or "sheet flier," and deposited on a table at the rear of the press. this method of delivering the sheets is known as the cylinder or rear delivery. this press may also be fitted for "front delivery." by this method the sheet of paper after being printed is carried around on the impression cylinder until the front edge comes again to the feeding point. just as the impression cylinder comes to a stop, a set of grippers seize the front edge of the printed sheet, draw it over and away from the impression cylinder, and deposit it, with the printed side up, upon a table near the front of the press and above the ink-fountain and distributing rollers. the average speed of one of these presses is from one thousand to fifteen hundred impressions an hour, depending upon the desired quality of the work. notwithstanding the excellent qualities of the stop-cylinder press, commercial necessities often demand a sacrifice of quality to speed, and this has brought the two-revolution press into very general use. as the name implies, the cylinder makes two revolutions, one to print the sheet, and the other, an idle one, to allow the bed to return. while the bed is returning, the impression cylinder is lifted to clear the type-form. as the cylinder rotates continually at a uniform speed, the type-bed must also travel at a constant speed. the reversal of the movements of the bed must, therefore, take place in a short space of time. the study of inventors has been concentrated upon this subject more than upon any other connected with flat-bed presses, and hundreds of patents for "bed motions" have been taken out. considering the fact that in the larger presses the weight of the bed and form is about one and a half tons and that this weight moving at a speed of about six feet in a second must be brought to a full stop and put into motion again in the opposite direction at full speed in about one-quarter of a second, it is obvious that the problem was not an easy one, especially when the reversal of the bed must be accomplished without a jar or vibration. the mechanism employed has always been a driving gear and one or two toothed racks. in koenig's original movement, the driving gear on the end of a rising and falling shaft ran on top of a rack attached to the bottom of the bed in order to drive the bed in one direction, and then descending around the end of the rack ran in the bottom to the same rack to drive the bed in the other direction and ascending at the other end to repeat the movement. this, as already stated, has proven a very efficient mechanism and is employed, with improvements, by some of the press manufacturers of the present time. in a pamphlet entitled "a short history of the printing press" (new york, ), by robert hoe, the writer describes a method of reversing the bed. although somewhat technical, it seems desirable to quote him as follows: "as early as , hoe & co. patented an entirely new bed-driving mechanism. to a hanger fixed on the lower side of the bed were attached two racks facing each other, but not in the same vertical plane, and separated by a distance equal to the diameter of the driving wheel, which was on a horizontal shaft and movable sideways so as to engage in either one or other of the racks. by this means, a uniform movement was obtained in each direction. the reversal of the bed was accomplished by a roller at either end of the bed entering a recess in a disc on the driving shaft, which in a half-revolution brought the bed to a stop and started it in the opposite direction. this involved a new principle; a crank action operating directly upon the bed from a shaft having a fixed centre, and within recent years modifications of this patent have been successfully employed to drive the type-bed at a high velocity and reverse it without a shock or vibration." this invention appears to have been the forerunner of the more recent improvements in bed motions. a notable one is that employed in the miehle presses, which have gained much celebrity, run at a high rate of speed, and are used in many printing-offices in this and other countries. the reversal of the bed movement is accomplished by a so-called "true crank" movement and with an absence of jar and vibration never before obtained in any other than the stop-cylinder presses. at the present time, the latest development in printing presses is hoe & co.'s new two-revolution press, in which, also, the reversal of the bed is accomplished by the true crank movement, but with an improvement which brings it to an easy stop and returns it without the least vibration. on all two-revolution presses there are employed, to assist in the reversal of the bed, air-chambers or cylinders, without which the reversing mechanisms could not withstand the enormous strain to which they are subjected. these are iron cylinders, closed at one end, approximately six inches in diameter and eighteen inches long, and varying in size according to the size of the press. some presses have two and others four of these cylinders, one or two at each end. the open ends of the cylinders are toward the bed, and attached to the bed are two or four pistons which enter the air-chambers as the bed nears the end of its stroke. the compression of the air in the cylinders makes a cushion and checks the momentum of the moving bed. the pistons can be adjusted to regulate the air compression to suit the velocity of the bed and the weight of the form, which vary in different kinds of work. the delivery of the printed sheets is performed either by a delivery cylinder or by a front delivery with the printed side of the paper uppermost as already described for the stop-cylinder presses. grippers are not used in the front delivery carriage, as the sheet is discharged from the cylinder by its continuous rotation. the average running speed of a two-revolution press is about one-third greater than that of a stop cylinder, or about eighteen hundred impressions an hour, as against from one thousand to thirteen hundred and fifty impressions from the stop cylinder, this being the comparison in presses of the average size, printing sheets about  Ã�  inches. the driving power required is in the proportion of about five for the two-revolution press to three for the stop cylinder, and the wear and tear is in about the same proportion. another press, which is still employed to a small extent for book-work, is the flat-bed perfecting press. this press is virtually two two-revolution presses combined into one, with the advantage that they require only one man as "feeder," but with the disadvantage that they produce only about two-thirds as much work as two separate single-cylinder, two-revolution presses. their greatest disadvantage lies in the difficulty of preventing the fresh ink on the side of the sheet first printed from "setting off" on the packing of the cylinder which prints the reverse or second side. mechanisms are employed to move the "tympan sheet" or outside covering of the second cylinder along at fixed intervals, but they are complicated and troublesome. these presses are expensive and cumbersome, and can generally be used only for inferior grades of work in large editions. under the care of a skilful and painstaking pressman, good work can be produced from them, but fine book-work is always done on stop-cylinder and two-revolution, single-cylinder presses, which have now been brought to a high state of perfection. nearly a hundred years ago hansard wrote, "the printing machine in its present state appears susceptible of little improvement." he was, in truth, right so far as the main principles of the flat-bed cylinder press are concerned, but there have been immense improvements in many of the details. with the introduction of automatic sheet-feeding devices, and improvements in the driving, inking, and delivery arrangements, mechanical ingenuity seems to have been exhausted. the temptation is strong to apply hansard's prediction to the flat-bed cylinder press of the present day, but with the many surprises that meet us in other fields this would border on temerity. already there have been great advances in adapting the entirely rotary principle to the printing of high-grade work, although its use is still restricted to the production of large editions. as early as hoe & co. made a rotary press for d. appleton & co., especially for printing the famous webster spelling-book. the types were locked up on the cylinders in curved beds, called "turtles," and the sheets were delivered by a sheet-flier. probably thirty million copies were printed on this press, which was dismantled nearly twenty-six years ago. in this same concern made a press which is still used for printing some of the forms of the _century magazine_. this press had two pairs of cylinders, and curved electrotype plates were used on it. the paper was in a roll at one end, and at the other end there were delivered, to each revolution of the cylinders, eight eight-page signatures already folded to the size of the _century_ page. this was the first rotary press made for a good grade of book-work. two similar presses were afterward made for _harper's weekly_ and for the _strand magazine_ of london. what is known as the rotary art press was made in for printing the fine half-tone illustrations in the _century magazine_. this has one plate cylinder and one impression cylinder, and curved electrotype plates are used. the sheets are "fed" by hand in the usual manner, and are printed on one side at a time and delivered by a sheet-flier. it produces as much work as four flat-bed cylinder presses and of better quality. the plates are inked by sixteen rollers. the performance of this press is another demonstration of the superiority of the rotary over the flat-bed principle of printing. since then hundreds of rotary presses have been made for magazine and book printing, most of them equipped with attachments for folding the sheets as they are printed, and all having a high rate of speed. c. b. cottrell & co. have made many rotary presses for magazine printing, most of which deliver the sheets flat, without folding, and most of them made to suit some predetermined size or sizes of sheets or pages. in the evolution of the printing press there are three sharply defined stages: first, the flat impression surface and the flat printing surface, requiring the exertion of all of the impressing power upon the entire surfaces; second, the cylindrical impression surface and the flat printing surface, requiring the exertion of all of the impressing power upon only a narrow line or a small portion of the printing surface; third, a cylindrical impression surface and a cylindrical printing surface, still further reducing the area upon which all the impressing power is exerted. just as the second stage has, particularly for book-work, virtually superseded the first, so the third is destined to supersede the second. it is only an adaptation of the means to the ends. the mechanical principles of the rotary press are, in fact, simpler than those of the flat-bed cylinder press, and it may be said that so far as the purely mechanical part of the press is concerned, they have been fully developed, but much still remains to be done in other directions. the variety in the sizes of the pages of different books, the smallness of the editions, and the fact that the finer grades of paper, especially coated paper, cannot be obtained in roll form, are obstacles to be removed. as most book forms are electrotyped for flat-bed presses, and as it requires but little additional expense to curve the plates, this one item is not much of an obstacle to overcome. it is, however, still difficult to curve the plates perfectly, and the pressmen, even if they can produce excellent work from flat-bed presses, require considerable training if they have had no experience on rotary presses. all these difficulties are sure to be overcome in time. printing ink by james a. ullman. the process of making printing ink consists of grinding a pigment, black, white, or colored, into a suitable varnish. the pigment is that constituent which makes the impression visible, while the varnish is the vehicle which carries the pigment during the operation of grinding and during its distribution on the press to the type, from the type to the paper, and ultimately binds it to the paper. a complete factory for the production of printing ink consequently consists of three distinct plants,--one for the production of the varnishes, one for the manufacture of the pigments, and one for the grinding of the pigments into the varnishes. roughly speaking, the varnishes are divided into three classes, the first and second of which are the varnishes proper, _i.e._ the resin and the linseed varnishes, while the third class consists of dryers, etc., whose purpose is to influence the drying and consistency of the inks. taking up first the proper varnishes, we find that these are produced by the destructive distillation of resin in huge cast-iron stills. by this process, the solid resin of colophony is split up into water, various resinic acids or naphthas, and resin oils of various specific gravities and consistencies, all of which are separated from each other into separate containers which are ready to receive them. as one distillation is not sufficient to purify the resin oils from the water and acid, which would not only give the resulting ink an obnoxious odor but be detrimental to type, plates, etc., the distillation is repeated a number of times until the oils become perfectly pure. the grades of varnishes made from these resin oils are used for the cheaper classes of printing inks, not only on account of their lower cost, but because they are more suitable for the class of work for which such inks are used. the linseed varnishes are made by boiling refined linseed oils at a very high temperature. the linseed oil loses its acrid elements by volatilization, and gradually becomes thick and viscous, the various "numbers" or consistencies of these varnishes being dependent upon the length of time during which the oil is subjected to the process, and to the temperature applied. the dryers are made by adding to the linseed oil during the boiling, suitable oxidizing agents, such as compounds of lead or manganese, by means of which the oil is chemically affected, _i.e._ it is oxidized. such dryers, when added to printing ink, attracts the oxygen of the air and transfer it by catalytic action to the varnish of the ink, thus causing it to oxidize more rapidly, or to become, as it is commonly called, dry. having disposed of the manufacture of the varnishes and dryers, we now come to the manufacture of pigments. this is such a large field that it can be only cursorily covered within the limits of a short article. the pigments are of many kinds and classes. the blacks alone would form a large chapter by themselves; yet all of them consist of carbon, produced by the combustion of hydrocarbons of various kinds, and according to their origin they are the so-called carbon blacks, lamp blacks, spirit blacks, oil blacks, frankfort blacks, etc., each of which has its distinct and peculiar properties and value for its specific purpose. the other pigments fall naturally into two divisions,--chemical colors and the so-called "lakes." the chemical colors are in general of mineral origin, produced by the action of one chemical upon the other, or in some cases by physical or chemical action upon earths and ores. in the first group, we have such colors as vermilions, white lead, chrome yellows, the ferrocyanide blues (milori blues, bronze blues, prussian blues, chinese blues, antwerp blues, paris blues, berlin blues), ultramarines, etc.; in the second group, such colors as cyanides, umbers, indian red, and many others. the lakes are principally formed by the use of coal-tar derivatives, and are usually incorrectly grouped as anilines. they are produced by precipitating water-soluble dyes upon a suitable substratum or base. their shades, strength, brilliancy, permanency, and working qualities are dependent upon the nature of the dye itself, upon the nature and percentage of the substratum or base, and also upon the suitable selection and manipulation of the precipitating agents. this class of colors is to-day by far the most important of all, since through great progress made in chemistry in recent years, it is possible to make them of the greatest possible strength and permanency, together with a brilliancy of shade which was for many years an ideal earnestly striven for, but apparently impossible to accomplish. having thus considered the products which are the principal raw materials of printing ink, we now come to the ink itself. being provided with all the varnishes, pigments, dryers, etc., of suitable qualities and shades, it is necessary to combine them in proper proportions, after selecting such as will be mutually compatible, and to grind them to the utmost fineness. the machinery to accomplish this purpose consists, first, of mixers, in which the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated with each other. this being done, the resulting mixture or "pulp," as it is called, is ground upon mills formed of rollers or cylinders, which are set in close contact by means of screws and made to revolve by power. between these rollers the pulp is passed again and again, the number of times being dependent upon the consistency of the ink and the nature of the pigments, until it is ground or comminuted to the utmost fineness. the result is printing ink as it is known to the printer, varying in consistency, strength, intensity, permanency, brilliancy, drying, and other working qualities, according to the nature of the various varnishes, dryers, and pigments with which it is made. the printer's roller by albert s. burlingham. notwithstanding the fact that no one thing connected with the art of printing has done more toward the advancement of that art than the simple inking appliance familiarly and commonly known as "the printer's roller,"--without which, indeed, the evolution of the power printing press from the primitive hand machines of the fathers would not have been possible,--it is an inexplicable truth that historians and encyclopædia makers who have made investigation of the origin and progress of the art seem to have attached so little of importance to the invention or introduction of the composition roller that only meagre and casual reference is made to it. even its predecessor, the "ink-ball," receives but scant courtesy at the hands of these chroniclers, for while they enter into the minutest detail (and properly so) in investigating as to whom the world is indebted for the idea of movable types and the invention of the printing press, they have not thought it worth their while to rescue from oblivion the suggester or adapter or constructor--whatever he may have been--of the device by which those types were inked to receive the impression from that press, and without which neither types nor press would have been of any avail. it seems to be established beyond doubt, however, that the first suggestion of a roller to take the place of the ink-balls in applying ink to type forms was that of william nicholson, with whom, also, the idea of the cylinder press originated, in . he recognized the fact that no power press on the cylinder principle could be of practical use without an inking apparatus different from the primitive ink-balls. these were hollowed-out blocks of beech, mounted with a handle, the cavity stuffed with wool and covered with untanned sheepskin which had been well trodden until it was soft and pliable. the early printing presses were made of wood, and two men were required to work a press--one to make the impressions and one to ink the forms with the balls. the ink was contained in a receptacle called the ink-table. it was enclosed on three sides, and was attached firmly to one post, or cheek, of the press, on which were the racks for holding the ink-balls when not in use. a beechen implement, resembling somewhat our potato masher, and called the "brayer," was used to manipulate the ink as it lay on the table; an iron shovel, known as the "slicer," being used to portion out from the mass of ink such quantities as were needed from time to time for the brayer. it required much strength to manipulate the ink-balls properly, and thus it was a man's work. taking up ink with them from the table, the operator vigorously beat the balls together with a rolling movement, turning them a little at a time so as to make the ink cover the entire surface and distribute it perfectly thereon. then the type-forms were beaten with them until they were properly inked. the work of printing off an edition was divided between the two men, one manipulating the ink-balls for an hour, and then taking his turn at the press, while for the next hour his fellow-workman attended to the inking. william nicholson, seeing at once that the idea of a cylinder press could never be worked out to practical perfection with such a process of inking as that, built up an inking roller with manifold layers of cloth, which he covered with the trodden sheep-pelt surface used in the ink-balls, the distribution of the ink on the roller to be made by contact with a revolving cylinder of wood. the idea was there, but that it would have had the intended result was never known, for although nicholson's press contained nearly all the principles on which the cylinder presses of our day are constructed, it lacked one vital feature--the attaching of the type-forms to the cylinders--and was consequently not of any practical use. the earl of stanhope, who, in , invented the first iron frame and "platen" press, with the improvement of levers in addition to screws to give the impression, coupled with his object nicholson's idea of an inking roller or revolving cylinder. he spent large sums in trying to find a substance that he could utilize for that purpose. he investigated with the skins of many animals, domestic and wild, and tanned and dressed in various ways. different textures of cloth and varieties of silk were used, but without success. the seam that was necessary down the entire length of the roller was one great impediment to success, and even if that could have been overcome, the proper softness and pliability of surface for receiving and depositing the ink evenly and smoothly on the type could not be obtained from any of the processes experimented with; and stanhope's improvement in printing presses was still subject to the inconvenience of the ancient ink-balls. in a printer named maxwell made a sheepskin roller which he introduced into philadelphia. it failed of success, and the printers returned to the ink-balls. this maxwell roller was reintroduced by fanshaw, a new york printer, in , but the printers of that city rejected it. the inventors in england were still busily engaged in trying to solve the problem of the cylinder press that nicholson had more than suggested in , and the one great obstacle to success was the absence of a proper substance for supplying the need of an inking roller, the difficulty of the type and cylinder having been overcome by the invention of the "turtle" form. in a man whose name one historian gives as b. foster, another as t. b. foster, and to whom another refers as "forster, an ingenious printer, employed by s. hamilton, at weymouth, england," one day visited the staffordshire pottery. in a coloring process in use there forster, or foster, noticed a peculiar composition that covered the surface of the potter's "dabber." it was moist, pliable, and elastic. the historians do not say so, but we may well imagine that this "ingenious printer," seeing in that composition what he believed to be the long-sought substance that would do away with the sheep pelt as an inking device, with all that implied to the progress of the art of printing, must have awaited with feelings of acute anxiety the answer of the potter to his query as to what that composition was. and what was it? "glue and treacle,"--two of the simplest of articles, and the easiest to obtain. the printer experimented with them, and although he was the first to put to practical use in the art of printing the thing that revolutionized it and advanced it to its present state of wonderful perfection, yet so far as the printed chronicle of him goes, we do not know what his christian name was, or whether his surname was foster or forster; and one chronicler states that it was in , and another that it was in , that he discovered roller composition to his fellow-printers. the collateral evidence, however, is to the effect that it was in . forster (admitting that to have been his name), proved the availability of glue and molasses as an inking surface, not by using it in the form of a roller, but by coating a canvas with it, and using the canvas thus prepared in place of the sheep pelt on inking balls. from this the press inventors got the idea of coating a wooden cylinder with the composition. applegath & cowper, inventors of the applegath cylinder press, were the first to adapt it in roller form, and for a time held a patent on the use of it; but the courts of england decided that there could be no patent on the composition, and substitutes for the manufacture of rollers having been devised which were no infringement on applegath & cowper's moulds, the compound came into open use, and koenig, who had so improved and perfected nicholson's ideas and plans for a power cylinder press, was able, in , by the adaptation of the glue and molasses roller, to print the first edition of a newspaper that was ever run from a cylinder press--the historic edition of _the london times_. the problem of the inking apparatus solved, there was no longer any limit to the exercise of inventive genius in the advancement of the printing art; and it is, therefore, to the printer's roller, more than to any one thing, that that art owes its wonderful preëminence to-day. there is no record in any of the histories of printing, or in encyclopædias, of who it was that introduced the composition roller into use in this country, or any reference to the date when it came into service. de vinne, in his "typographia," published in , says that ink-balls were in use here "fifty years ago," or in ; but it must have been only in isolated and out-of-the-way rural printing offices, for it can hardly be supposed that yankee "go-aheadativeness" would have failed to recognize at once the importance of the discovery, or have long delayed its general adoption, although the hand press, with many improvements, remained the universal printing machine in the united states until , when the treadwell power press gave the first impulse to more rapid printing. the treadwell was not a cylinder press, but its invention would have been of no consequence without the composition roller. it is certain, however, that more than sixty years ago the melting pot and roller mould had become an important adjunct to every rural printing office, and the making of a new roller was an event in the routine of the establishment. the orthodox mixture for the composition in the printing office where the writer of this was the "devil" forty-seven years ago was "a pint of sugar-house molasses to every pound of the best glue, with a tablespoonful of tar to every three pints and three pounds." and that was the customary composition of that day among country printers. there is a tradition among printers and roller-makers that the first roller turned out in this country was moulded in a stove pipe; but whether it was or not, and no matter who the first roller-maker might have been, it is a fact that the advance in the art of roller-making has had to be rapid in order to keep pace with the vast improvements in the cylinder press which the first composition called into use, and the old-fashioned glue and molasses rollers would be now of no more service to them than would the primitive ink-balls which the roller replaced. a comparison between the mode of making a roller in the early days of the business and the methods in use to-day will be of interest. in the old days the composition was cooked in a caldron over a coal fire, with water between two jackets to make the steam that forced the melting. the cast-iron moulds were placed near a stove to give them the necessary warmth of inner surface, a warm mould being required to give a good "face" to the roller in the casting. while cooking, the composition was constantly stirred with a stick to assist in the proper assimilation of the ingredients. after it had reached the proper stage, it was strained from the melting kettle into pouring kettles, similar to ordinary milk pails. the composition was poured from the top. naturally, this let into the moulds, with the composition, the air bubbles and froth that were always present, which caused imperfections in the rollers. after pouring, it was necessary to let the moulds stand all night, so the composition might become sufficiently cool to permit the "drawing" of the rollers. this was effected by placing a stick against the iron journal at one end of the roller core and pushing until the roller was forced out of the mould. but the roller factory of to-day is quite a different affair. instead of separate moulds standing about a stove to get ready for the pouring, there are moulds in nests, or cylinders, resembling a gatling gun, or a tubular boiler. there will perhaps be twenty roller moulds in a nest. the cylinders are balanced in the centre on journals, thus enabling the workman to place them at any angle desired, for purposes of oiling the moulds and loading them with the roller cores. the cylinders have hot and cold water contact, by which they may be surrounded by either at will. to warm the moulds the cylinder is put in an upright position, and hot water circulated about it the required length of time. the composition--which is something more than the old-time glue and molasses--is prepared for pouring by melting in a double-jacketed steam kettle, the stirring being done by a mixer run by steam power. when ready, the composition is drawn off from the bottom of the cooking kettles into pouring kettles which have air-tight hoods. to these a hose is attached, the other end of the hose being connected with a tank which is charged with air by a pump. the hose being then attached to the cylinder, the air is introduced from the tank into the pouring kettle, forcing the composition upward into the cylinder, and all air from the moulds. this insures a perfect roller. when the composition has reached the top of the roller stocks, the valve at the bottom of the cylinder is closed, and the process is continued to the next cylinder ready for pouring. the cooling of the cylinders is effected by turning the cold water current around them, and a nest of moulds may be filled and emptied four or five times a day. after the cooling, the bottom plate of the cylinder is removed; the rollers drop out, are trimmed, and are ready for the shipping box. the illustrator by charles d. williams. it is only in comparatively modern times that the art of illustration has received the encouragement that makes for perfection. for this, the cheapening of the manufacturing cost in printing is mainly responsible. an illustration proper should always accompany text and in days past the making of a book was so costly in itself that the possibility of illustration was almost beyond thought. only the wealthy could afford illustrated books and as their reading was very limited, naturally illustration was crowded to the wall. those with money to spend on pictures preferred decorations or portraits, consequently the endeavors of artists were aimed at supplying what suited the tastes of buyers. illustration is and always has been the art of the people. it makes clearer to the imagination their stories and their songs, it mirrors their manner of life, interests, and pursuits in a way that brightens what would otherwise often be commonplace. art seems to entwine itself about the strongest figures in a community, absorbing with its nourishment the ethical qualities of the leader. thus we have michael angelo in a community ruled by the church, creating, at its demands, a "day of judgment," a "magdalen at the cross," a "moses," and velasquez, evolving a marvellous technique while immortalizing in wonderful portraits the vanity of his spanish lords. so that at the present day, with the people in ascendency, what is more probable than the perfect development of the art which most appeals to their tastes? every day, artists of the highest intelligence find in illustration an opportunity to give the best that is in them, and the chances that illustration will reach the heights of perfection attained by other branches of art are exceedingly good. the opportunities for an illustrator are without end, and the problems are beyond number. it is a difficult performance to hand out, to order, pictures in which human emotions stand counterfeited. in the fact that illustration springs from and stands with the written tale and must finally serve its proper place between board covers, the man who labors at it finds some of his work already finished for him by the author. but it is a saving that tantalizes more than it assists. the technical equipment of the artist must twist into realistic semblance, clear to the eye, the imaginary product of the author. he must not add to it nor take away from it--even for the sake of beauty in his picture--one iota of the facts given him. his imagination, grasping all the ideas of the author, must assemble them and find a place for each one, good, bad, and indifferent, and present them to the reader in a form that will command his approval. the artist cannot tease the mind with the vague influence of description, as can the author, nor can he veil his products with the pleasing glamour of unreality. without haze his work stands forth, bold facts in half-tone reproduction and printer's ink, fighting an uncertain fight at best with the imagination of the reader. people will have illustrations, though. if the pictures do not literally fill the bill, they nevertheless please. something definite, carrying a story idea, is always acceptable. something which excites the imagination invariably challenges interest, and the illustrator who is true to his calling and above shirking his task enhances the interesting features of a book a thousand fold, if he spares no pains in arriving at an actual expression of the author's intention. the knowledge that an illustrator brings to his work should be as broad and varied as human history. above and beyond his ability to draw or execute in a manner technically pleasing, should stand his knowledge of people, places, and events. it should include all things, ologies, and isms. a living index he must be, knowing just enough to readily discover more, and with this knowledge he must make others feel and imagine. if the author would tell of wars, trojan, egyptian, or siamese, the illustrator must follow him and be truthful. he must know enough of troy, egypt, or siam to make clear to the reader the face, form, and clothes of the characters, their weapons of bloodshed, their way of killing, how they marched to do it and through what manner of country. he must know or find out all these things, and within all his pictures must carry the spirit of terror and murder that stalked at the time, so carefully expressed that the terror and murder will be of that particular epoch and no other. all this must be shown as clearly as that the characters belong to their helmets or shields, their war chariots or bamboo lances. simple the task may seem in these days of public libraries and ready reference, yet it is a most nerve-racking business, this placing an embossed helm or set of greaves on the hero of a story, so that he may stand out a roman, and when the labor is finished having him stare genially out at you, insistently proclaiming the masquerade, and seemingly proud of his resemblance to a st. louis button salesman. when all is said and done the illustrator's strongest asset is spirit. technique and a grain of insight will help a man over many a rut in portraiture, and a knowledge of patting clay and using a chisel has saved many a sculptor, but technical equipment alone never made an illustrator, because he deals too directly with life in action. slack drawing and impatience of method will always be pardoned in an illustrator, if his picture convinces. let a writer tell of a pair in love and the illustrator pictures their kiss; if he convinces the reader that the kiss is in earnest, the drawing may be full of faults, but the point is made and nothing more is asked, save that "she" be pretty and "he" manly. consider the difficulty of this trick of convincing, when the words of love carefully weighed and prepared by the author and set into the atmosphere of a scene equally well prepared will often occasion derisive smiles. so it may be explained that the purpose of illustration is to carry the spirit of action rather than to serve as a basis for deft expression of technical skill, and illustration will reach its highest development along the lines which give it an excuse for its existence. the mechanical processes for the reproduction of illustrations have served to develop various methods of drawing the original picture. the half-tone screen in connection with photography has made possible an almost exact copy of the artist's work, and at very small cost. formerly an illustration was drawn on a wood block and turned over to a wood engraver, who laboriously cut it into the block and as he cut away the drawing as he worked it was impossible to compare his reproduction with the original. it can be readily seen that only a very good engraver was to be trusted to reproduce anything of value, and as there were never very many engravers of the first class, artists' work usually suffered. half-tone engraving reproduces a drawing by photography and necessarily shows much of the individual method of the artist. zinc etching of pen-and-ink drawings is even more exact in its results. lately, methods of reproducing colored originals and paintings have been brought forward, and the results are surprisingly good. scientific photography is at the bottom of this, and the old method of lithography, which demanded ten or twelve printings in reproduction, and then fell short, seems to have seen the last day on which it will break the heart of the artist. because of the sun and the dry plate, illustrators had to find inks and methods which would aid the engraver as much as possible. the use of opaque white as a ground for the mixture of tones, with its resultant bluish cast in black-and-white drawing, has almost disappeared. the camera will not find gradations in blue and artists have found it better to use pure india ink washed out in water, allowing the white of the paper to serve for high lights. of course, opaque has its uses, but it is only after much experience and many disappointments that an artist can learn just where to use it and how. pen-and-ink drawings and crayon drawings on rough paper in which the crayon is applied direct, and not rubbed, will always please the engraver most and return the best reproductions; but in this case cleverness and technique demand the greater notice from the artist if he would have the result interesting. a successful pen drawing is an achievement almost equal to an etching and it is unfortunate, considering the ease with which it may be successfully engraved, that good pen drawing is so rare. black-and-white oil offers an inviting field to the illustrator who aims at a sense of completeness in his work. honestly handled, there is no other method of working that can convey an equal feeling of solidity and earnestness. by its use an artist can suggest all the qualities of a full-color painting and impress one with the last-forever look that thought and study gives to earnest work. most drawings for reproduction are worked in wash--why, it is hard to say. oil will shine and reflect lights, and the engraver has this to overcome; but, barring the lightness and appearance of ease that wash suggests, there is no very apparent difference in the reproductions, and oil has the advantage of greater simplicity in detail. for deftness and brilliancy illustrations finished in crayon rubbed into tones easily surpass those done by other methods, but the process has the disadvantage of appearing thin in the reproduction, unless the plate is very carefully tooled and printed. when the illustrator has chosen his subject and decided on the method of treatment that will best serve the demands of the story to be pictured, fully half his labor is completed. the preliminary sketches necessary to the condensing of his ideas open the door to the real pleasure in his work--standing up a model and creating therefrom a character is pure joy, and it is for this alone that the illustrator toils through the dry dust of reference libraries and costume shops. models are either a great aid or a great drawback in the picturing of characters, for while they assist the artist by simplifying the labor of drawing, they often handicap him by intruding their own personality into the work, thereby spoiling the sense of character aimed at. when an illustrator allows this to happen, it does not matter how beautiful or accurate his sketch may be, he fails in the first essential of his craft, entering forthwith into the field occupied by painters and decorators, who can do the same thing very much better. so, while the model is often a necessary appendage to the construction of a character, it is imperative that the spirit and sense spring from the artist, whose business is, not to reproduce the model, but to use it sparingly as he would a book of reference. the illustrator finds that the speech an author puts into the mouths of his characters is the best index to their personality. they may be described as tall or short, dark or light, stout or thin, and their creator may explain their capacities for love, hate, villany, or dissipation, but it is only the words with which they express their ideas that really describes them. his description of the beauty of a girl will not be accepted on trust. he must supply her with deportment and breeding before her beauty can be truly imagined. thus it may be explained that the measure of an author's conception and clearness often determines the qualities in an illustration. the true illustrator is sensitive to faults in the delineation of character, and, although he may not be aware of it, his work will show it. of course it often happens that an artist is taken up with ideas of technique and, author or no author, will make his pictures in just such a way; but such work is hardly illustration and serves itself better standing alone. and thus it goes throughout the scene to be pictured--place, time, and people, all must be imagined twice and equally clear, by both the author and the illustrator, before the reader will agree. to the illustrator, hampered by given quantities, falls the most difficult task in this duet of imagination, and he can at best hope only for the reader's approval, as all credit for conception goes to the author. it is on this approval, though, that he builds, for if he succeeds in making things clearer to the reader's imagination, he has accomplished what he set out to do and has proved himself worth his hire. so the aims of illustration are set forth, but whether the laborer completes his work well or ill, whether he brings great ability or only honest intention to its accomplishment, he is engaged in a business as fascinating as it is uncertain. failure only drives him to another try, and success is always just around the corner. the illustrator who would live by his work must live with it. if he has a thought in his mind that does not deal in some form with illustrations and half-tone plates, he is wasting that thought and his time besides. half-tone, line, and color plates by emlyn m. gill. practically all book illustrations, as well as those in catalogues and periodicals of all kinds, are made by some method of photo-engraving. wood engraving is almost a thing of the past, and many who are in a position to know predict that after the present generation of wood engravers has passed out of existence, artistic wood engraving will be a lost art. it is certain that there is now no younger school of wood engravers growing up to take the place of the engravers whose work in the leading magazines, up to a few years ago, made them famous. the quickly made and comparatively inexpensive process plates have not only taken the place of wood engraving, but have increased the field of illustration to a very large extent. they have made possible hundreds and even thousands of publications which could not have existed in the old days of expensive wood engraving. the use of photo-engraved plates has increased enormously each year during the past twenty years, and with this increased use has come the inevitable decrease in cost, so that illustrations are no longer much of a luxury to the publisher. photography is the basis of all the mechanical processes that come under the general head of photo-engraving. these processes are generally called mechanical, yet, as in photography, great skill is required to produce the best results. the higher grades of half-tone work require much careful finishing, which is all done by hand, and which, moreover, must be done by a skilful, intelligent, and artistic engraver. practically all things may be reproduced successfully by photo-engraving, but the vast majority of subjects that go to the photo-engraver are either photographs or drawings. all methods of relief plate photo-engraving come under two general heads: "half-tone" and "line engraving," the latter being very generally known as "zinc etching." zinc etching is the simplest method of photo-engraving and should be thoroughly understood before one begins to inquire into the intricacies of the half-tone process. it is used to reproduce what is known as "black and white" work, or line drawings. any drawing or print having black lines or dots on a white background, without any middle shades, may be engraved by this process. the old-fashioned "wet-plate" photography is used in making practically all process plates, either in line or half-tone. i will describe briefly all the operations gone through in making a line plate, taking for a subject a map drawn in black ink on white paper or a head drawn by charles dana gibson,--subjects wide apart in an artistic way, but of absolutely equal values so far as making the plate is concerned. the drawing is first put on a copy board in front of a camera made especially for this work, in whose holder the wet plate has already been placed by the operator. the subject may be enlarged or reduced to any desired size, nearly all drawings being made much larger than they are desired to be reproduced in the plates. the exposure is much longer than in ordinary dry plate work, generally lasting in the neighborhood of five minutes. the result is a black and white negative. that is, the lines that were black in the drawing are absolutely clear and transparent in the negative, but the rest of the negative is black. from the photographer, the negative goes to the "negative-turning" room. here the negative is coated with solutions of collodion and rubber cement, which makes the film exceedingly tough--so tough that it is easily stripped from the glass on which it was made, and is "turned" with the positive side up on another sheet of glass. if this were not done, the plate would be reversed in printing--that is, a line of type would read from right to left, or backward. after the negative is "turned," it is ready for the etching room. here the surface of a sheet of zinc about one-sixteenth of an inch thick, which has been polished until it is as smooth as plate glass and without a scratch or a flaw of any kind, is flowed with a sensitized solution, easily affected by light. the negative is placed in a printing frame over the sensitized zinc and a print is made. that is, it is exposed to the sunlight or to a powerful electric light, and the light shines through the transparent parts of the negative, and hardens the sensitized surface; while the black part of the negative protects the sensitized surface from the action of the light. the plate is next "rolled up" with a lithograph roller which distributes a thin coating of etching ink over the entire surface. the plate is then washed off carefully by the operator, but the ink adheres to all portions of the plate that have been acted upon by the light. we now have a fully developed print on the highly polished surface of the zinc that is an exact reproduction of the original drawing. it is now necessary to make this print acid proof, and this is done by covering the plate with a coating of very fine resinous powder, called "dragon's blood," which adheres to the printed portions of the plate. the plate is subjected to enough heat to melt this powder, and is then ready for the acid bath. a strong solution of nitric acid is used for etching zinc plates. this acid is placed in trays, which are rocked constantly, either by power or by hand, while the plate is being etched. the melted dragon's blood makes a perfect acid resistant and the acid, therefore, does not affect the print (or picture itself), but eats away the bare surfaces of the metal between the black lines and the dots. when this etching has proceeded far enough to make a plate that may be used in printing, the lines and dots of the picture stand up in bold relief, while the metal around these lines and dots has been eaten away to a considerable depth. there are many details that cannot be described in a short article, but these are the principal operations gone through in etching the plate. one very important detail in etching is to prevent "undercutting." it is obvious that if the acid will eat down, it will also eat sidewise. the acid resistant is only on the surface. if means were not taken to prevent it, as soon as the acid got below the surface, it would begin to eat in under the print and the lines and dots of the picture would disappear; therefore, as soon as the plate has had its first "bite," it is taken from the acid, dried, and dragon's blood is brushed against the sides of the lines. this powder is then melted and the plate given another etching. while the plate is being etched down, it is removed from the acid several times, and the sides of the dots and lines are again protected. after leaving the etching room the plate goes to the "router," an ingenious machine, with a cutting tool revolving at a speed of fourteen thousand revolutions a minute, which quickly removes the waste metal in the large open places between the lines and dots. the zinc plates are carefully looked over by a finisher, defects are removed, and the metal plates are then nailed on wooden blocks, so that they will be "type-high," that is, of exactly the same height as the metal type-forms used in printing. hand presses are a necessity in all photo-engraving shops, and with these several "proofs" of each plate are printed in order that the customer may judge of the quality of the plate. while the line, or zinc etching process is immensely useful, in reproducing pen-and-ink drawings, maps, wood-cut prints, etc., yet the half-tone process is the one that practically revolutionized all known methods of illustration, after it had become perfected. while zinc etching is limited in its capabilities to the reproduction of black and white subjects, practically everything in art or nature may be reproduced by the half-tone process. the half-tone "screen" makes it possible to take a photograph or wash drawing and break the flat surface of the picture up into lines and dots, with the white spaces between that are an absolute essential in relief plate printing. if a half-tone print taken from any magazine or periodical is examined closely, either with the naked eye or a magnifying glass, it will be seen that the entire picture is a perfect network of lines and dots, and that there are two sets of lines running diagonally across the plate at right angles to each other. in the darker portions of the picture it will be seen that the lines are very heavy, with a small white dot in the centre of each square, made by the intersecting lines. in the lighter portions of the picture, these lines will be found to be very fine, while in the lightest parts, or in the "high lights," as they are called, the lines disappear and in their places are a mass of fine dots, not much larger than a pin point. to make a half-tone plate of a photograph or other subject, it is necessary to break the negative up into lines and dots. it is for this purpose that the half-tone "screen" is used. the screen consists of two thin pieces of plate-glass, on the surface of which a series of very delicate parallel black lines have been ruled running diagonally across the glass. when these pieces of glass are placed together, face to face, the parallel lines ruled on them intersect each other at right angles, giving a very fine "mosquito-netting" effect. the method of making the negative is very similar to that described in making line negatives, excepting that in making a half-tone negative the screen is placed in the plate-holder directly in front of the negative. the subject is then photographed, and the result is a negative completely covered with a mass of fine transparent lines and dots. copper is generally used instead of zinc in making half-tone plates. in making a print on copper the light shines through the transparent lines and dots of the negative and hardens the sensitized surface of the plate. the black parts of the negative between the transparent lines and dots protect the sensitized surface. when the plate, after printing, is placed under a water tap, the parts of the sensitized surface that have not been acted upon by light wash away, leaving a print that becomes acid proof after being subjected to an intense heat. the method of etching a copper plate is similar to that already described for etching zinc plates, excepting that sesquichloride of iron is used instead of nitric acid. in a half-tone the dots and lines are so close together that great depth is neither desirable nor possible, and no steps are taken to prevent undercutting. the half-tone plate, after it has been carried as far as possible by mechanical processes, is capable of great improvement in the hands of skilful engravers. the plate as it comes from the etching bath may be termed a mechanical product. though great skill is necessary in making the negative, the print, and the etching, the hand-finishing gives the plate many of its artistic qualities. the unfinished plate is apt to be more or less "flat" in appearance; the high lights may not be light enough, while the dark portions of the plate are apt, in cases, to be too light. the most common methods of finishing are reëtching and burnishing. the finisher dips a camel's-hair brush in acid and applies it to the high-light portions of the plate, or other places that are too dark, and allows it to act on the metal until these parts of the plate are lightened sufficiently. the parts of the plate that are too light are made darker by rubbing down the surface of the plate with a tool called the burnisher. the skilful, artistic finisher has other methods at his command of making the plate reproduce as accurately and as artistically as possible the original drawing or photograph. high lights are sometimes cut out entirely, or a fine engraver's tool may be "run" between the lines; while a "wood-engraved" finish is produced by cutting, in certain portions of the plate, lines similar to those used in wood engraving. in the price-cutting that has been going on as a result of the fierce competition that has existed among photo-engravers during the past few years, the artistic possibilities of the half-tone have been lost sight of to a certain extent. the product of the engravers is sold by the square inch, regardless of the fact that the cost of one plate may be double the cost of another plate of the same size, but from a different subject. a point also worth remembering is that until the plate reaches the finishers' hands, it has been more or less of a mechanical product; and that the plate is made an artistic creation by the skill, care, and brains of an intelligent class of men earning from $ to $ a week. those expecting "the best" at "the lowest price" can easily guess about how much of this high-priced finishing they will get when the price paid barely covers the cost of the mechanical product. then, engravers striving for high quality in the product pay from twenty-five to fifty per cent higher wages, as a rule, than the cheap, commercial shops. but the idea of square-inch price has so generally permeated the buying public, that the larger and better shops have been compelled, to a greater or less extent, to meet the prices of their less skilful competitors. they are enabled to do this and give their customers much greater value for their money, only through better business methods, more modern facilities, and by conducting the business on a very large scale. the screens used in making half-tones represent an enormous outlay in the large shops. a comparatively small screen costs in the neighborhood of $ . a screen  Ã�  , ruled or lines to the inch, costs about $ . screens are made with different numbers of lines to the inch, from , for coarse, newspaper work, up to . the screens in general use are , , , , , , , , , and ; but intermediate sizes are also used, such as and . a screen containing lines to the inch is about the finest ever used for ordinary printing purposes, though a few screens with , , and lines to the inch have been made. a well-equipped photo-engraving establishment must have all these screens, and all of them in many different sizes. in the writer's shop there are fifteen cameras, all of them in constant use in the daytime and five or six of them are always in use all night. some days the bulk of the work in the place will be a fine grade of magazine engraving calling for a screen. in order to keep all the cameras at work all the time, a thing that is very important in a well-regulated place, it is necessary to have a number of screens almost equal to the number of cameras. the same is true of most of the other screens in general use. fortunately for the engraver and the consumer these screens practically last forever if carefully handled. the greatest developments in process work during the past few years have been in the making of color plates. beautiful results are obtained in two colors by the "duograph" or "duotone" processes, the plates being made for two printings. the three-color process aims to reproduce all colors in three printings, by using inks of red, yellow, and blue. this process is very interesting, but somewhat intricate. primarily, the results are made possible by color separations. the aim is to take a colored subject--an oil painting, for instance--and by photographing it three times, each time through a different colored piece of glass, to divide all the colors into what are called the three primary colors--red, yellow, and blue. from each of these color separations a half-tone plate is made, and when these plates are put on the printing-press, and the impressions are printed over each other in yellow, red, and blue inks, respectively, the result is a printed picture reproducing correctly all the colors of the original subject. while many subjects may be reproduced accurately by this process, yet the three-color process seems inadequate to give perfectly satisfactory results in all cases. nearly all three-color process houses are now prepared to add a fourth, or key, plate, to be printed in black, in case the subject seems to need it. the three-color process has enabled many of the leading magazines to use illustrations in colors, and there is not the slightest doubt but that there is a great future for this class of work. the wax process by robert d. servoss. almost all of the maps found in text and reference books, as well as the geometrical diagrams used in mathematical and scientific works, are made by what is known as the "wax process." this process was invented and patented by an englishman named palmer about , shortly after the discovery of the method of making electrotype plates for printing purposes. he announced that he would furnish artists with copper plates covered with a waxlike composition on which they could make their own drawings, in a manner similar to but much simpler than the method followed by the etcher on copper. after receiving the artist's work, the plates were to be returned to palmer, who then made an ordinary electrotype of the engraving. a circular, issued about , gives the necessary instructions for engraving, and the prices for the wax-coated plates and the subsequent electrotypes, and shows many beautiful illustrations made by artists of that time. it was then called the "glyphographic process." the process was first introduced into this country by a firm of printers in buffalo, new york, and was used by them for several years for illustrating the united states patent office reports until it was superseded upon the introduction of photo-lithography and the subsequent adoption by the government of a uniform standard for patent drawings. this process may be described in a general way as follows: a copper plate having a highly polished surface is first blackened by the application of a weak solution of sulphuret of potassium, or other chemical which will oxidize the copper. then a composition, made by melting together in proper proportions, beeswax, zinc-white, and paraffin, is "flowed" over the blackened surface, producing an opaque whitish engraving ground. the thickness of the wax is varied according to the subject to be engraved, but in general should not exceed that of heavy writing paper. after it has been allowed to cool with the plate lying perfectly horizontal, the wax is smoothed down to an even thickness by a steel scraper, and the plate is then ready to receive the engraving. taking for an example the engraving of a map, the original copy is either photographed on the wax surface, or is transferred to it by covering the back of the copy with red chalk and tracing over every line with a steel point. the photograph, or the tracing, on the wax must not be a reversed one, as might be supposed, but should "read right." the outlines of the map are then gone over, with an engraving tool which cuts out a small channel in the wax, down to, but not into, the surface of the copper plate. the bottoms of these channels will eventually form the surface of the relief lines in the resultant electrotype plate, but now appear as dark lines against the whitish groundwork of the wax. the engraving tools are made in different sizes, and therefore channels of varying widths at the bottoms may be cut in order to produce lines of different sizes. in cutting lines to indicate rivers,--which must be thin at the source and increase in thickness as they approach the mouth,--tools are used in graduated sizes. the first one cuts its own line of equal width for a very short distance, then another and slightly wider tool is used, the next still wider, and so on until the river line is completed. in reality a series of steps, the work is so done that the line appears to the eye to increase in width evenly and gradually from a very fine beginning to a heavy ending. the wavy lines indicating hills and mountains are made in substantially the same way. special steel punches are pressed through the wax to the copper to show town and capital marks, and after all the lines and marks are completed, the plate is ready to receive the lettering. the name of each individual town, city, state, or river is set up in printer's type and stamped one name at a time into the wax. the type is placed in a small tool resembling a vise, which holds it in perfect alignment and on a perfect level. tools of various shapes are used for stamping the names in straight and curved lines. it is necessary to wet the type to prevent its adhering to the wax. the plate is then carefully compared with the original copy and after any necessary corrections have been made it is gone over by an expert operator, who cuts out any of the channels which may have been obliterated by the burr of the wax, resulting from pressing in the names. we now have a plate in which the lines have been cut in small channels and the names stamped with type. this is a matrix, or mould, from which an electrotype of the lines now sunken in the wax may be made in high relief for printing, but the blank portions of the wax are so thin that it is first necessary to fill in all these places on the plates with wax in order to produce a sufficiently deep electrotype plate. this is done by "building up" the plate. a small hook-shaped tool, heated over a gas jet, is used to melt small pieces of wax which are run carefully around all the names and in the spaces between lines, thus filling up all these spaces with a round, smooth body of wax. from this mould an ordinary electrotype is made by the method described elsewhere in this book. all these operations require much skill and patience at every step, but the plates produced by the wax process are always much deeper and stronger than those made by any other process. making intaglio plates by elmer latham. the method by which a photogravure plate is produced, is probably the least understood of all of the many photo-processes of reproduction. this is chiefly on account of the difficulty of the process, which is not an easy matter to explain in detail, and also on account of the secrecy with which all plate makers guard their processes. the reproduction of a mezzotint or line-engraved print, when made by a good photogravure process, produces in most cases a print which cannot be detected from the original. the originator of the process was probably fox talbot, an englishman. the writer has seen one of his prints, made between and , which was a very creditable piece of work. dujardin of paris took up talbot's process, and after much modification, succeeded in developing a successful process which he is working to-day. all photogravure plate makers of the present time have more or less copied the process of fox talbot. there are three different methods of making these plates known to the writer. the reader probably knows that a photogravure plate is not a relief plate, but an intaglio, and is printed on an etching-press in the same manner as an etching and requires special skill in printing on the part of the printer to produce the best results. i will give a brief explanation of the three different processes. the first is known as the transfer process. in this process a reversed photographic negative is made from the copy, from which a positive or "transparency" is made, either by contact or in the camera. a piece of carbon paper is then coated lightly with gelatine, sensitized with bichromate of potassium and allowed to dry. the paper is then placed in contact with the positive and printed in daylight until the image is imprinted on the gelatine coating of the paper, such portions of which as have received the most exposure from the action of light becoming quite insoluble. a copper plate, cleaned so that it is free from grease, is introduced into a large box into which has been blown a very finely powdered resin, which is allowed to settle somewhat before putting in the plate. the plate is allowed to remain in the box until a fine deposit of resin has settled all over it. it is then carefully removed and heated over a gas burner until the resin adheres firmly to the plate. the resin is melted only to such a point that it forms a fine grain all over the plate, leaving interstices of bare copper between. the paper, on the gelatine surface of which the picture is printed, is now placed in a tray of warm water, and the parts of the image which have had the least exposure are thereby dissolved and washed away, the image being thus fully developed on the paper. this is placed in contact with the grained plate, which has been placed in the tray of water, and firmly squeezed in contact with the plate. the paper is stripped off, leaving the gelatine film on the copper. the plate is now removed from the tray and dried, and is then ready for etching, which is accomplished by placing the plate successively in several baths of acid of different strengths until the desired results are obtained. this process gives a shallow plate, of not great wearing quality, and, as a rule, requires a great deal of work by the engraver to bring the plate up to anything like the copy. the light tints come out very soft and smooth, but the black tones etch "flat" and lose all detail. these blacks must be put in by hand. the poor wearing qualities of these plates make them undesirable in cases where a large edition has to be printed. the next process is the "deposited" plate used by "goupil" of paris, in which copper is deposited by electricity upon a swelled gelatine film which has had a grain formed upon its surface chemically or otherwise. the deposition has to be continued until the plate has acquired the necessary thickness, which takes about three weeks; and this is a long time to wait in these days, when a publisher usually expects his order executed in ten days. these plates are practically hand made. the process gives a plate that could not possibly be used without a great deal of retouching by an expert engraver. goupil turns out a beautiful plate, due principally to his large force of engravers, one man working on a particular part of the plate, then passing it on to another who does some other portion, and so on, until the plate is finished. in this way each engraver becomes exceedingly skilful in one thing. line engraving is reproduced by this process exceedingly well, but such plates, like the transfer process, are shallow and give out soon in the printing. the last process that i have to deal with is the one i am working myself. in this process the plates are made in two or more etchings, according to the requirements of the subject which is to be reproduced. this method produces a plate of great depth both in the light and black tints, and on account of the small amount of hand-work required after the plate is etched, the copy is followed very closely. with a good positive and favorable conditions, quite frequently a plate is made upon which the retoucher needs to do no work at all, and a more faithful reproduction is made than by any of the other methods that i have mentioned. after a good positive is procured, the copper plate is cleaned, and a sensitized solution of gelatine is flowed over the plate, dried down, and then printed under the positive, with a short exposure. the plate is grained as in the transfer process, and is then etched. this first etching, on account of the short exposure, goes over the plate in about three minutes, and is simply intended to get the light tints. the plate is again cleaned off and coated, this time in a different manner, and given a much longer exposure under the positive. the next etching takes about three hours, which gives the blacks great depth. comparing this with the transfer plate which has an etching of from fifteen to twenty minutes, the reason for the difference in the wearing qualities of the plate is quite evident. this process, whether used by myself or others, i feel free to say is the best one that has ever been worked, inasmuch as it gives a far more faithful reproduction than any of the others with a minimum of work by the retoucher. some plate makers claim to make all their plates without any retouching, which cannot be done. as i have mentioned before, occasionally a plate can be made as good as the copy without hand-work. but to say that any chemical process gives such results continually, or that a plate cannot be improved by a skilful retoucher is, to say the least, misleading. all of the different processes are very sensitive to atmospheric influences, and no small amount of chemical as well as mechanical skill is required to keep things running smoothly; and at certain times the best of operators are at a loss to remedy some slight fault that may upset things temporarily. photogravure making is based upon a foundation of small details, that must be looked after with the utmost care, and the neglect of any one of which means failure at the end. so it may be surmised that at times the operator has trouble of his own. every maker of plates, no matter which process he uses, has his individual ways of doing things, so that except in a general way no two processes are operated alike. this gives an individuality to each man's work, and an expert can easily tell one from another. for high-class illustrations, no other photographic process can compare with photogravure, and no doubt it will be many years before anything will be found to excel or even equal it. much experimenting has been done with other methods, but the results have always been inferior, and i think it is safe to predict that the photogravure will always be popular. etchings, mezzotints, and steel engravings are still occasionally used in the illustration of fine books, and brief descriptions of how they are made will be of interest. an etching is usually made on a copper plate. the plate being covered with a thin coating of wax, the artist works on it with an etching point, sketching his subject on the plate in fine lines as he would in making a pen-and-ink drawing, but cutting his lines through to the copper. the plate is then "walled in" with a high rim of wax, forming a sort of tray of the plate. into this tray is poured a diluted solution of nitric acid, which etches, or "bites," into the uncovered lines on the plate. some artists give a plate a short "bite," as the etching is called, for the light lines, then cover these portions of the plate with wax and give the plate successive "bites," stopping out each part as it gains its required depth. others remove the coating and "prove" the plate by taking a print from it after each "bite,"--each of these prints being known as a "state of the plate" and showing what is still required to be done. in the work of an etcher like whistler the impressions of the "first state," "second state," etc., are of considerable interest, as they show the progress of the man's work, but, except as an object of interest or as a curiosity, these prints can have no real value as they are unfinished work, simply showing the various stages in the making of a work of art. a mezzotint is also usually made on a copper plate. a texture, or groundwork, is worked on the copper plate with a tool resembling a cabinet maker's toothed plane iron, except it is rounded at the end. the teeth are very fine, ranging from forty to one hundred and twenty to the inch in different tools. this tool is called a "bercier," or "rocker." the rounded edge allows the tool to be rocked across the plate, the rocking motion causing the teeth to form indentations in the copper. the rocking has to be continued until the surface of the plate is completely covered, and it then presents an appearance like velvet. rocking in from forty to sixty directions is necessary to cover the plate properly. the durability of a mezzotint plate depends entirely upon the pressure put upon the rocker, and the depth to which it penetrates the copper. after the ground is thus laid, the outline is sketched in on the rocked surface, which takes the pencil easily, and then with steel scrapers and burnishers the light and middle tints are worked down, leaving undisturbed the portions of the surface where the strongest blacks are to be. from time to time, a print is taken from the plate, to note the progress of the work, which advances slowly to the finish. on account of the length of time necessary for the laying of the ground and the scraping of the plate, many artists hesitate to attempt mezzotint plates. there are very few men in this country to-day who do mezzotint engraving, which, considering the results to be obtained, seems somewhat surprising. for flesh tones, drapery, and landscapes it has no equal. the velvety richness of the blacks, the beautiful gradations of the middle tones, and the extreme delicacy of the light tints give the artist a power of expression not obtainable by any other method of engraving. besides this, as the engraving is done on the bare copper, the artist can see at all times the progress of his work without having to take off the wax ground as he must in making an etching. this is a great advantage, for as the effect of each stroke can be plainly seen on the plate, the element of uncertainty which always attends the production of an etching is entirely eliminated, and it is then simply a question of skill with the scraper. the difficulty of obtaining rockers is one great drawback. i doubt if one could be obtained in new york to-day. the teeth have to be very accurately cut, and a perfect tool has a value to an engraver that cannot well be estimated. the lack of demand has prevented their manufacture in this country, but they could be made here by any fine tool maker. steel engravings are still used to some extent in this country, although only in portrait work. a wax ground is laid on the plate as in etching. a tracing is made from the photograph, from which the picture is to be made, and is then transferred to the wax ground. the engraver then follows the lines of the tracing with an etching point, the hair, head, and outline of the features being gone over carefully. then the plate is etched with weak nitric acid. if the face is to be "stippled," it is covered with fine dots made by a graver directly on the surface of the metal after the plate has been etched and the wax cleaned off. if the face is to be a mezzotint, that part of the work is all rocked over, and then scraped down within the etched outline, when the flesh is modelled as in a regular mezzotint. the drapery, background, etc., is usually done by a ruling machine with fine or coarse, waved or straight lines, as the texture may require. these lines are ruled through a coating of wax, and then, by etching and stopping out, the required results are obtained. this method of engraving is also giving place to process work, and in a few years more the steel engraved portrait will probably be a thing of the past. printing intaglio plates by george w. h. ritchie. the method of printing etchings, mezzotint, and other intaglio plates is the same to-day as it was in the time of rembrandt and durer. the modern inventor has found no way to economize time, labor, or expense in the work--excepting that in the case of postage stamps, bond certificates, and similar plates, which are printed in vast quantities, the work has been adapted to the steam press. in the olden time the engraver, or etcher, himself was to a considerable extent his own printer. he worked at engraving his plate until he needed a proof to show him how the work was progressing. then he printed, or "pulled," a proof and resumed his work, taking proofs from time to time until he had completed the plate to his satisfaction. then, if only a small edition was required, he printed it. proofs taken during the making of a plate are known by plate engravers and printers as the "states" of a plate, and it is due to the whim of the etcher, the softness of the copper, and the wearing of the plate in printing that we have prints representing many "states" of a single plate which might otherwise have had but one state, thus depriving one modern print collector of the privilege of discovering in his proof three hairs more or less in a donkey's tail than his rival finds in another proof, which makes the former's more valuable by several hundred pounds. one form of press is used for all manner of intaglio plate printing. it consists of a framework supporting two heavy iron rollers, between which moves a flat iron travelling plank, or bed, and on this bed the plate to be printed is laid. the pressure of the rollers is regulated by screws at each end of the top roller, which is covered with two or three pieces of thick felt. this top roller is revolved by handles and the bed moves along with it under the pressure of the roller. at one side of the press stands a rectangular box, or "stove," made of iron, or having an iron top. the top is heated by gas and on it the printer puts his plate while inking and wiping it. the heat thins the ink as it is applied, allowing it to be worked freely and to be "lifted" easily by the paper. the ink is made of fine bone dust, vegetable or other form of carbon, which has been carefully cleansed from foreign matter and ground to the necessary fineness in combination with burned linseed oil. its strength and consistency should be varied according to the plate which is in hand, and the color also may be varied to suit the character of the plate by the addition of pigments. the paper used in plate printing may be one of several kinds, but the usual variety is a fine white paper free from spots and imperfections which might mar the appearance of the finished print. this paper is made either by hand or machinery of selected bleached cotton rags, and has a soft, spongy surface which yields readily under the pressure of the plate. before it can be used the paper is moistened and allowed to stand for from one to twelve hours, or even longer, until it becomes evenly and thoroughly dampened,--but not wet,--so that it will more readily force itself into the lines of the plate and take therefrom and hold the ink. before printing a photogravure, mezzotint, or other engraved plate the printer must first carefully examine it to see that it has no scratches, and that no dried ink remains in the lines from the last printing, and, in fact, that there are none of the many possible impedimenta which might prevent the production of a perfect print. the plate being in proper condition, it is then thoroughly cleansed with turpentine or benzine, all traces of which must be carefully wiped from the surface before the ink is applied. the plate is then laid on the heated iron box or "stove" until it has become thoroughly warmed. the surface of the plate is covered with ink, put on by means of an ink-roller, or perhaps the old-fashioned dauber, and the ink is thoroughly worked into the lines or depressions in the plate. after this the ink on the flat surface of the plate is entirely removed by wiping with rags. the printer's hand, which has become more or less covered with ink from the rags, is then passed over a piece of chalk, or gilder's white, and lightly rubbed over the surface of the plate, to remove the last vestige of the ink, leaving a highly polished flat surface with the incised lines or depressions filled with ink to the level of the surface. the plate is then ready for printing and is placed on the bed of the press, a sheet of dampened paper laid upon it, and both are then run between the rollers of the press. as the top roller is encased in soft blankets, the soft, dampened paper is forced into the ink-filled lines of the plate, and when the paper is removed the ink clings to it and shows an exact impression of the engraving. this entire process must be repeated for each print made from an intaglio plate. while the printing of a steel engraving or photogravure is a more or less mechanical operation, the printing of an etching--and "dry points" may be included--is oftentimes as much of an art as the actual etching of the plate. the two styles of printing may be compared to two kinds of fishing,--that of fishing for flounders with a drop line, from a flat-bottomed boat at low tide when one must just sit tight until one has a bite, and then haul in the fish, bait up, drop the line and wait again, as against that of angling for trout on an early spring day, dropping the fly in a likely spot without success at the first cast, persevering until rewarded by a rise and then by the sport of playing the fish, giving him line and reeling him in as about he circles and finally is landed. a good one, perchance, but the sport was in landing him. so it is with printing an etching. there is the opportunity to play with, and work hard over, a plate. perhaps the etcher has not, for reasons only known to himself, put in the plate all that can be shown in the print by ordinary printing. the printer actually has to interpret in his printing the etcher's meaning, for the which, as a rule, he gets "more kicks than ha'pence," and in the end wishes he had stuck to plain plate printing as far as the profit is concerned. in the process of printing an etching, the printer first covers the plate with ink and then wipes it with the rags, and, if necessary, with the hand. it depends entirely upon the etched work of the plate as to how it must be wiped, and it rests with the printer to prepare a proof which is satisfactory to the etcher. the plate is wiped "closely" where the high lights are required or a tint (a thin coating of ink) left over certain portions where it needs to be darker. after this the plate is "retroussed," which is accomplished by passing a very soft piece of fine muslin, or a "badger blender,"--a soft brush used by artists,--delicately over the work in the plate and drawing the ink up and over the edges of the lines. this softens and broadens the lines and gives a very rich effect, and, if continued sufficiently, fills the spaces between the lines and produces an almost black effect. all this work is varied according to the wishes of the etcher. a plate that left the etcher's hand a mere skeleton may be made to produce a print which is a thing of life. the possibilities of an etching in the hands of a skilful printer are almost limitless; the effects can vary with every impression, each showing a new picture. his processes are as interesting as those of the etcher himself, and it is within his capabilities to transform an etching from a broad daylight effect into a moonlight scene, including the moon, by judiciously, or injudiciously, inking and wiping the plate. a "dry point" plate is produced by drawing on a copper plate with a steel or diamond point, and without biting by acid. the lines are cut into the copper and a burr thrown up which holds the ink in printing, and produces a soft, velvety line. the method of printing such a plate is similar to that of an etching, but the possibilities are not as great in the printing, as they rest to a greater extent upon the work of the artist. a great depth of color, producing wonderfully rich effects, can be obtained and the finer lines can be made much more delicate than by any other method. the printing of intaglio plates in color flourished for a short period in the latter portion of the eighteenth century, and the best prints of that time now in existence are of rare beauty and bring enormous prices. the process, now almost a memory, is a costly one, and this prevents its use in book illustration excepting for volumes which command a very high price. this kind of printing requires the plate to be actually painted by hand with inks of such colors as the picture may require, and the painting has to be repeated for every impression that is taken. the colors are put on with a "dole,"--a small piece of muslin turned to a point,--and great care must be taken that they do not overlap, or run into, each other. as each color is placed, the plate is wiped clean with rags as already described, and when all the colors have been properly placed, the plate is pulled through the press in the same manner as in ordinary printing. the successful printer of color plates must be a rare artist or else work under the direction of an artist. little of this work is now done except in paris and vienna, and the limited number of color plates of this kind used for book illustration in this country does not warrant the time and expense necessary to train printers capable of doing the work. even english plates are usually sent to paris to be printed. it is difficult to describe the work of what is termed artistic printing. every plate is a subject to be treated by itself, and no hard and fast rule can be applied. it is really a matter of artistic feeling, and to revert to the simile of the angler, one cannot explain how a trout should be played, but can only say that it depends on the fish, the water, and the circumstances. a fisherman can _show_ you, if you are on the spot, and so can the printer. the gelatine process by emil jacobi. of the many photo-mechanical processes which have come into existence in recent years, the photo-gelatine, next to the half-tone process, has shown the greatest adaptability for practical use in art and commerce. whatever the name may be,--collotype, artotype, albertype, phototype, or carbon-gravure,--the principle is the same; an impression is made in printer's ink from a photo-chemically produced design on a gelatine surface, either on the hand-press or on a power cylinder press similar to that used in lithographic printing. there is hardly any process which is more capable of producing fine works of art. it is the only true method for reproducing, in the full sense of the word, an etching, engraving, a drawing in pen and ink, an aquarelle, a painting, or objects from nature. the depth and richness of tone of an engraving, the delicate tints of an aquarelle or india-ink sketch, and the sharpness of the lines of an etching or pen sketch can be reproduced with such fidelity that it is often impossible to distinguish the copy from the original, and this is achieved the more easily as the printing can be done in any color and on any material, be it paper, parchment, leather, or textile goods. another great advantage of a gelatine print is its inalterability and durability, no chemicals being employed in transferring the picture to the paper. the picture itself being formed by solid pigments, such as are used in printer's ink or painter's colors, there is no possibility of its fading or changing color, which cannot be said even of platino prints, at present considered the most lasting of all photo-chemical processes. like all new inventions, the photo-gelatine process, in its early stages, had to undergo severe trials, and for some years almost disappeared from public view, after many failures precipitated through unscrupulous promoters and inefficient persons who claimed impossibilities for the new process. it took years of patience and perseverance to regain the lost ground and overcome the opposition of those who had suffered by the failure of this process to produce the promised results; but at present it is, in europe, one of the methods in most general use for illustrating, and in this country it is making steady progress and rapidly finding favor. the process, simple as it may seem to the casual observer, requires, more than any other photo-mechanical process, skilled hands in its different manipulations to keep it up to the standard of perfection. the following short description will give the uninitiated sufficient enlightenment to think and speak intelligently about it. the foundation or starting point, as of all the other photo-mechanical processes, is a photographic negative; that is, a picture on glass or some other transparent substance, in which the light parts of the picture appear dark, and the dark parts light in transparency, graduated according to the different shades of tone in the original. the next and most prominent feature is the printing plate. a perfectly even glass, copper, or zinc plate is covered on the surface with a solution of fine gelatine and bichromate of potassium, and dried. this printing plate is then placed under a negative and exposed to the light. the action of the light on the bichromated gelatine forms the basis of this process. in proportion to the graduated density of the negative, the light acts more or less on the bichromated gelatine, rendering the latter, in proportion, insoluble and hardening it. after sufficient exposure the plate is washed out in water to eliminate the bichromate not acted upon by the light, and is then actually ready for the press. if the printing is to be done on a hand press, a lithographic leather roller is charged with printer's ink, and the plate, which has been fastened on a suitable bed-plate in the press, is rolled up while it is still moist. those parts of the plate which were acted upon by the light and hardened, repel the water and take up the ink, and thus all the graduating tones, up to the high lights or white parts, which have not been affected by the light, will take the ink proportionately. the white parts of the picture, where the light did not act upon the gelatine during the exposure under the negative, retain the natural property of gelatine to absorb water, and consequently repel the ink altogether. from the foregoing it will be easy to understand that a certain degree of moisture in the plate is necessary to get a correct impression. after the leather roller, a composition roller, such as is used in typographical processes, is employed to make the ink smooth and give the fine details not obtainable from the rough surface of a leather roller. a sheet of paper is then placed upon the plate and by pressure the ink is transferred from the plate to the paper. the printing, in former years, could only be done on hand presses; but with the introduction of improved power presses especially adapted to it the process itself has been so perfected that the finest work can be executed on them, at the same time insuring greater evenness and increased quantity of production, and also admitting the use of larger plates than would be possible on a hand press. the prevailing impression, whenever machinery is employed to supersede hand-work, is that the production is increased to such an extent as to reduce the cost to a minimum, but in the gelatine printing process, even with the aid of power presses, the rapidity of printing is far behind the possibilities of the lithographic or typographical printing press, and the process, therefore, is only applicable to works of art, and the better grade of illustrations in literary and commercial publications. the lesser rapidity of production and the greater cost is balanced by the quality, where this item comes into consideration; and where only small editions are required, even the cost compares favorably with other methods, as the initial cost of preparing the printing plate is small compared with the cost of photogravure or the better class of half-tone plate. it is only in cases of large editions of many thousands that the advantage of rapid printing reduces the cost of the initial expense. but fine art publications and illustrations will never be used in very large quantities, and, therefore, there is a large field for the photo-gelatine process in this country, where it is as yet so little used. in france, germany, and austria there are dozens of establishments which employ ten or more power presses for photo-gelatine work, while here only within the last few years has the process been sufficiently appreciated to warrant the introduction of a few steam presses; and these have to be imported from abroad at a high rate of duty, as the present demand for the presses does not make it advisable for our domestic press builders to invest in their construction, especially after an isolated attempt in that line, misguided by inexperienced and unpractical men, which turned out to be a total failure. notwithstanding all these difficulties and obstacles, it is a fact that the photo-gelatine process has gained ground sufficiently to indicate a prosperous future, as its products are becoming more widely known and appreciated. lithography by charles wilhelms. as an embellishment to the modern book, chromo-lithographed illustrations are quite popular and in some cases absolutely necessary, being not only attractive, but conveying an accurate idea of the color as well as the form of the object illustrated. although the illustration is nothing more than a colored print, it may be a revelation to some when they learn of the numerous details incidental to its production. it may not be generally known, and yet of sufficient interest to the reader to state that the art of lithography, or surface printing, was invented accidentally. the inventor, aloys senefelder, had been engaged for years endeavoring to find some process for etching copper plates as a substitute for typographic printing plates; and the piece of stone (of a kind now known as solenhofen lithographic stone), which eventually led him to the discovery of lithography had been used by him as a slab upon which he had been accustomed to grind his printing ink. the materials which he used for his acid-resisting mixture while etching his copper plates were beeswax, soap, and lampblack, and in selecting these materials he accidentally invented the basis for all crayons or lithographic "tusche" or inks, now used so extensively for drawing on stone. it seems that senefelder finally became thoroughly disheartened about his etched copper plates, mainly owing to the great expense and labor connected with their production, and was about to discontinue his efforts when the idea occurred to him to experiment with the stone which he had used as an ink slab for so many months, treating it in the same manner as the copper plates. he knew that the calcareous stone was easily affected by acid and that he could protect its surface against it by a layer of wax. after polishing the surface of the stone and coating it with a slight layer of wax, he made his drawing with a pointed tool, laying bare the surface of the stone where he desired the engraving. then applying the acid and removing the remaining wax, he filled the etched lines with printing ink, cleaned the surface of the stone with water, and was enabled to obtain an impression on paper from it. this manner of treating a stone has been employed by vignette engravers for many years, but of late has become obsolete. the result gave encouragement to senefelder and induced him to renew his experiments, when he was accidentally led a step farther in the direction of surface or chemical printing. senefelder had just ground and polished a stone, when his mother entered the room and asked him to take a memorandum of some clothes which she was about to send away to be laundered. having neither paper nor ink at hand, he hastily wrote the items with a pen, dipped in his acid-resisting mixture, upon the stone which had just been polished. when he afterwards started to wipe the writing from the stone, it occurred to him that it might be possible to reverse his process by etching the surface of the stone, leaving the writing or drawing in relief, which could be printed from in the same manner as from type. he was fairly successful in this, and after many disappointments and much hardship, he eventually succeeded in interesting a capitalist, with whose assistance he was enabled to establish his new relief stone process on a commercial basis. the process, however, was at best only an imperfect one, and it seems strange that the final discovery of surface or lithographic printing should have been so long delayed, when senefelder was in reality so near it, when he first poured the acid over the stone containing his laundry memorandum. if he had instantly washed off the acid and cleaned the surface of the stone with water, he might have proceeded to print thousands of impressions by simply keeping the surface of the stone moist while passing the ink roller or dabber over it, then drying and taking an impression, and repeating this operation indefinitely. it is not surprising, therefore, that a man of such persistence and capability as senefelder should eventually discover the best method for drawing and printing from stone; for it is a fact that, since he perfected his invention, more than a hundred years ago, it has been hardly possible to improve on his methods, so completely did he cover the entire field of manipulation in this direction. continuing his experiments, senefelder finally found that the calcareous stone absorbed and held grease, and that it just as readily absorbed water, where the surface was exposed and clean; that any design drawn or transferred with a greasy crayon or ink upon a cleanly polished stone would be firmly held, after being slightly etched; and that after such a stone had been moistened, it could be inked with rollers, the ink adhering only to the greasy matter constituting the design (although it did not stand out in the relief) and that the ink rollers would not smut the stone, the ink being repelled by the water or moisture covering its surface. upon this principle of chemical affinity, the adherence of greasy substances to each other and the mutual antipathy of grease and water, the art of lithographic printing is based. the methods or processes now employed in reproducing oil-paintings, colored photographs, or water-colors by lithography are numerous, and require great skill and experience, not only on the part of the lithographic artist, but also on the part of the printer. photography has of late years been used to a great extent in creating the basis of the color plates, to be afterwards perfected by the manipulation of the experienced chromo-lithographer. to insure a satisfactory result the first essential is, of course, a good original, which can be made in water-color, oil, or pastel. the number of printings to be employed should be predetermined and a color scale adopted. the lithographer must carefully analyze the original painting, making his calculations as to the best way of obtaining the desired color effects by a judicious selection and use of his colors, and the superimposing of one printing over the other, so as to obtain true color values. it must be remembered that, while the average painter has an unlimited variety of pigments at his disposal, the lithographer is in this respect very much at a disadvantage, not usually having more than from six to fourteen colors with which to produce a facsimile of the original. the first step is the making of the so-called key-plate. a piece of gelatine is laid on the original, which is, let us say by way of illustration, a water-color to be reproduced in ten printings, and a careful tracing of the original is made by scratching, with an engraving needle, the outline of each wash or touch of color composing the picture. this being completed, the lithographic ink (tusche) or transfer ink is carefully rubbed into the tracing, which is laid face down on a polished lithographic stone, slightly moistened, and passed through a hand press; thereby transferring the ink from the engraved lines to the polished surface of the stone. the design on the stone is then rolled in with black printing ink and etched, thus enabling the lithographer to take the necessary ten impressions of the key-plate. these, in their turn, are again transferred to as many lithographic stones. this is accomplished by dusting the impressions with a red powder, which adheres only to the design printed on the sheet. the powdered outline design is then transferred to the surface of the stone by passing both through a hand press. the key has been previously provided with register marks (a short horizontal line intersected by a vertical one) at top, bottom, and both sides. these are of the utmost importance to the prover, and finally to the transferrer, who prepares the work for the press, as without them it would be impossible to register one color over the other in its proper place. at any stage of the process, the register marks of all ten colors, which have been made in succession on a single sheet of paper, should coincide precisely and appear as a single mark in the form of a small cross. the lithographer now has before him the ten stones, each stamped with the identical network of lines in red chalk representing his key. he proceeds to draw each color-plate successively, at all times adhering closely to the red chalk outlines, filling in with tusche where full strength of the color is required and using lithographic crayon or the stipple process to reproduce the various gradations of this color in order to secure the full color value of each printing. the register marks are ruled in on each stone corresponding to those on the key, so that the prover or printer has these marks in the same identical position on each and every color as a guide for register. as each stone is finished it is etched; that is, treated with a weak solution of nitric acid and gum-water, in order to remove all accidental traces of scum from its surface, and to prepare it for printing. then proofs are made, which serve as a guide to the lithographer during the progress of his work, and finally as a guide to the transferrer and to the printer. the proving is done on a hand press, and it is here that we have our first glimpse of chemical printing, which, notwithstanding its simplicity, seems so mysterious to one uninitiated in its secrets. the writer recollects his own first experience. a stone had just been placed fresh from the etching trough in the bed of the press, when, to his amazement, the prover deliberately proceeded to eliminate every trace of the drawing with a sponge saturated with turpentine. after drying the stone by means of a fan, he passed over the surface a sponge soaked in water, then applied black ink with a roller, when behold, the drawing was restored in its entirety. the solution is very simple: the greasy matter is absorbed and held by the stone and in its turn repels water and attracts grease. an impression is made with black printing ink on paper by passing it through the hand press. the black impression approved of by the lithographer, the stone is again cleaned with turpentine and proved in the color required, and so with each color-plate, until the proof is complete. when photography is employed, the half-tone negative takes the place of the key. prints are made from a reversed negative on the sensitized surface of the stone, or on as many stones as the color-plates require, and then manipulated by the lithographer, who adds or modifies strength with his "tusche" or crayon, and scrapes or washes out lights where necessary. the various modes of procedure are too diverse to enter into here, but it may be well to mention that the principal ones are the albumen, the asphaltum, and finally the three-color process, the latter differing but little as far as the artistic part of the work is concerned from that employed for making relief printing plates for the typographic press. the original drawing plates, or stones, are not used to print from direct unless the edition be very small. just as the typographic printer uses electrotypes in place of the original type or cuts, the lithographer makes transfers from the original stones to print his edition and carefully preserves the original stones for future editions. the transfers are prepared in a very simple manner. the original stones are rolled over with a specially prepared transfer ink, and impressions are taken from them on a paper, known under the name of transfer paper, coated with a sizing of starch, flour, and glycerine. by printing from the original, only one copy can be produced at each impression, whereas by using transfers a number of copies of the original can be printed at one impression. for example, if the picture measures  Ã�  inches of paper, a transfer can be made containing fifteen copies on one sheet measuring  Ã�  inches. in this case fifteen impressions are made from the key-plate as well as from each of the color-plates, on the paper, and with the ink described above. the first transfer to be made is that of the key-plate. the fifteen impressions are laid in their proper positions on a sheet of paper of the required size, and are held in position on same by indentations made with a dull-pointed steel tool. the sheet is laid face down upon a cleanly polished stone, which is then repeatedly pulled through a hand press until all the ink has been transferred from the paper to the surface of the stone. the transfer paper still adhering to the stone is then moistened and washed off the stone, leaving the design completely transferred to the stone. a slight solution of gum arabic and water is then applied, the stone washed clean, and after being repeatedly rolled in with printing ink and etched, is ready for printing. an impression is then made in the usual manner from this key-transfer, which impression is coated with a solution of shellac. this is done for the purpose of rendering it impervious to the effect of the atmosphere, thus insuring against its stretching or shrinking. upon this varnished key-sheet all subsequent transfer impressions of the ten colors are "stuck up," to use the technical term, and transferred to stone in the same manner as is employed in the making of the key-transfer. the register marks serve as a guide in "sticking up" the separate transfer impressions and insure an accurate register of the colors laid over each other during the process of printing. new register marks are placed upon the key-transfer at top, bottom, and sides similar to those on the original (which are removed from the transfer), and these new marks now appear on all color transfers to serve as a guide to the steam-press printer in printing his edition. he likewise uses the hand-press proofs of the picture as a guide in mixing his inks. the lithographic power printing press is constructed on the same general principle as the ordinary typographic press, excepting that it is provided with an apparatus for moistening the stone previous to the application of the ink rollers. the stone containing the design is placed in the bed of the press, and the moisture, as well as the ink, is applied by means of rollers similar to those used in the typographic printing press. all the ten colors are now successively printed from the transfers on a steam press, and if it is a perfect job, the pictures can be cut to size and delivered to the publisher. at present the cumbrous stone and the slow-moving flat-bed press are being supplanted by the light and pliable aluminum plates and the fast-moving rotary presses. the aluminum plate has all the requisites for the highest grades of lithographic or surface printing, and the rotary press is beyond doubt a vast improvement over the flat-bed press, not only as to speed, but also as to the quality and uniformity of its product. the mode of procedure in making transfers to aluminum plates is much the same as that employed in making transfers to stone. the pliability of the aluminum plate and the ease with which it can be adjusted to a printing cylinder has resulted in the successful introduction and use of two-and three-color lithographic rotary presses, printing at one operation two or three colors. it has been demonstrated that the result is fully equal to that obtained from the single-color press, provided good judgment be used as to the succession of the colors or printings. this marks a new epoch in the art of lithography and enables it to compete with the typographic three-color process, which has been making such wonderful progress during the last five years, and at one time seriously threatened lithography as a medium for the reproduction of certain classes of colored illustrations. our experience teaches us, however, that the surface or lithographic and the relief or typographic method will never seriously interfere with each other, but on the contrary by actively competing in all matter relating to the reproductive art will continue to improve their respective methods, and thus enable them to satisfy the continually increasing demands on the part of the public for colored illustrations, not only as to the quantity but particularly as to the quality thereof. cover designing by amy richards. so many books of the present day have decorative book covers especially designed to fit each book that many people who buy the books are beginning to ask what suggests these designs and how they are executed. having made book-cover designs for a number of years, i have been asked to write a practical account of how these book covers are made, which will give an answer to some of these questions. this account will have no bearing on the designs used on hand-bound books with their beautiful "tooled" covers. these are a different branch of the art altogether from the so-called "commercial bindings" which i am about to describe. the designs for these tooled covers are as a rule made by the same hands that bind the books. every year hundreds of books are published that need "commercial" book covers. in many cases these covers are used to help sell the book; that is, they must be attractive enough to draw attention to the book as it lies on the counter in the bookshops and other places where the book is on sale. some publishers have artists, regularly employed, to make their own designs exclusively; but as a rule each publisher keeps in touch with a number of designers, sending for one or the other as the needs of a particular book require. when a design is needed, the particular sort of cover required is discussed with the publisher, the number of colors that can be used is mentioned, also the exact dimensions of the book and the material to be used in binding the book. almost every designer prefers to read the manuscript of the book, if possible, or to have a synopsis of it, for, naturally, he can make a much more suitable and successful cover if he has a complete idea of the subject of the book. having read the book, or having been told what it is about, the designer makes one or more rough sketches in color, giving a general idea of the book cover, both as to design, color scheme, and material to be used in binding. if one of these sketches is selected, the designer then makes an accurate "working" drawing, either in color, or black and white. if a black-and-white drawing is made, a rough color sketch is sent with it to indicate how the die is to be cut. a finished book-cover design can be made on water-color paper, bristol-board, or a piece of book-cover linen. this last method is popular with publishers, as it shows them how the cover will look when finished. a designer keeps sample books of all the most popular bookbinding materials, which the manufacturers are glad to supply. a practical designer always chooses for the ground color of a design a cloth that is to be found at one of the regular book-cloth manufacturers. when a book-cover design is finished, it is neatly mounted on cardboard and a careful note is written on the margin, telling how the design is to be executed by the binder, the kind of cloth to be used, and its number in a particular sample book. unless the design is executed on a piece of book cloth, a sample of the cloth desired is pasted under the directions. the design is then cut in brass by a die cutter, as described in the next chapter, and the covers are stamped in gold or inks from this die by the binder. the design must be the exact size of the future book or drawn larger in exact proportion for reduction to the proper size. gold is of course the most expensive way of reproducing a cover design, and a publisher generally tries to get as good an effect as possible without the use of gold, or he limits its use to the title lines or to a small part of the design. four inks is usually the extreme number used, and more often only two or three are used, or gold and one ink. several styles of decoration are used in designing book covers; but they may be put roughly into two classes,--those that are purely ornamental and those that are pictorial. personally i am in favor of the purely ornamental cover, as being more dignified; but there are books that seem to require a pictorial cover that is treated somewhat in the fashion of a decorative poster. a book-cover designer to be successful should be very versatile and able to make use of figures as well as thoroughly versed in the use of ornament. one of the most important parts of a book cover is the title, to which the amateur and inexperienced designer does not always give sufficient attention. the title must be clearly drawn and everything else in the cover made subservient to it, so that the first thing the eye falls on is the title. for this reason a thorough study of lettering is necessary for the successful cover designer, and much practice in order to become proficient. a very successful cover may be due simply to a well-selected cloth with lettering properly drawn and placed so that the eye is perfectly satisfied and the whole has an air of distinction. each designer grows insensibly into his or her own particular style, which those who are interested in book covers grow to know; but the more varied his style the more in demand will be the designer. the designing of book covers is a minor art, but since there is a constant demand for ornamented covers, the more taste and skill that can be devoted to the making of them, the better. when one looks back to the covers of fifteen years ago, one realizes what an advance has been made, and that the standard has been raised higher and higher, until at the present time many a famous illustrator or decorative painter occasionally turns his or her hand to the designing of book covers. the cover stamps by george becker. not many years ago the crudest and most primitive devices were used in the production of a book cover. the artist, if such he could be called, who was responsible for the design, seldom went to the trouble of furnishing the engraver with anything more than a pencil sketch, which the latter transferred to a brass plate about one-quarter of an inch thick by coating the plate with beeswax and laying the sketch on it, face downward. when the paper was removed the beeswax retained the marks of the lead pencil. he then began the tedious process of outlining it by hand with a graver and afterward finished it with a chisel. but the exacting demands of modern artistic taste, the improvement of scientific methods and the pressure of competition have marked a complete transformation in the business of making dies for book covers. a few pencils and gravers, a vise bench, and a grindstone no longer make an engraving establishment. colored sketches of most painstaking execution, accompanied by a working drawing in black and white, have taken the place of the old pencil sketch. these artistic productions, having passed the ordeal of critical examination, are handed over to the photographer, who, if he understands his part, does all that the beeswax did, and a good deal more. he takes the black-and-white drawing above referred to and reproduces it, in the size desired, directly on a brass plate covered with a sensitive coating, and then having prepared it with acid-proof preparations, he passes it over to the etcher. the etcher in his turn, with unerring judgment in the strength of his acids, does what the most careful outliner could not accomplish; he produces a perfect facsimile of the original drawing, with all its artistic freedom. the process used is practically the same as the zinc etching process described in the chapter on half-tones and line plates. the plate, having been etched as deep as is safe, is then turned over to the router, whose business it is to cut out all the metal between ornaments and lettering to the proper depth. this done, the engraver, who in former years practically dug out the entire plate with his hand tools, comes in to give the finishing touches and correct any slight imperfection that may remain. it is of the utmost importance, of course, that the dies should be clear-cut and deep, to avoid clogging up in printing, particularly in the plates used for stamping in inks. the experienced and watchful engraver is expected to detect any spots where the etching process has not fully accomplished its purpose. lettering, especially, should be cut clear, deep, and free from "feather," or ragged edges. the above process applies to single plates or to plates intended for printing in one color only, or in gold. where two or more colors are wanted, the photographer has to make as many prints as there are colors in the artist's design, as each one calls for a separate plate. the proceeding otherwise remains the same, excepting that to the engraver's task is added the necessity of making sure of a perfect register or fitting together of the various parts. the transformation in the demands of publishers and writers has become so great since the days of the primitive little shop above referred to, that a die cutter, working on those lines, would be hopelessly out of the race at the present day. in order to meet satisfactorily the artistic expectation of the present generation a first-class engraving establishment must have: an accomplished staff of artists, supplied with a library of standard authorities on the various schools of art, as well as a good selection of modern art publications; a skilled photographer with a complete photographic outfit, including, of course, a suitable gallery with the best obtainable light, both natural and artificial; and lastly a complete staff of routers and engravers, some of whom should be specialists in lettering, while others should devote their attention exclusively to figures. of all the elements that go to make book-cover decoration the lettering is by far the most important. it should receive special care, as in some cases it constitutes the entire decoration. in this respect the critical taste of the present day shows itself even more strongly than in the matter of decorative ornamentation, and no amount of ornamentation, whatever its artistic value, can redeem a cover whose lettering is lacking in style, character, or typographical merit of some kind. experience is such a good teacher that i can usually tell, by looking at a die, not only who designed the lettering, but also what workman engraved it. some dies are intended for stamping in gold or colored leaf and consequently have to be heated sufficiently to cause the leaf to adhere to the cloth cover, while others are meant simply for black stamping or stamping in ink of various colors; but all are engraved on brass for the sake of durability. sometimes, where very large editions are expected, as of school books, steel is substituted for brass. the die, when finished, is used by the binder in a stamping press. color work calls for considerable skill on the part of the stamper, who should be an expert in mixing inks as the best-cut die will often show poor results if not properly handled. in fact, the success of a book cover depends on three individuals,--the artist who designs it, the engraver who cuts it, and the stamper who prints it. book cloths by henry p. kendall. the great increase in the number of books produced each year has brought a corresponding development in the use of prepared cloth for the bindings. previous to the beginning of the last century cloth was almost unknown as a material for covering a book. books were then very costly. they were printed laboriously by hand, on paper also made by hand, and were naturally considered worthy of the most lasting bindings. as the life of books depends on the strength and wearing quality of the covers, such materials as wood, vellum, and leather, often reënforced with metal, were generally used. the nineteenth century has marked a great progress in the variety and quantity, if not in the quality, of published books. improvements in methods and in machinery have progressed side by side with economies in paper making. as the cost of producing the printed sheets became less, a demand arose for a correspondingly cheaper material for bindings. the want was satisfactorily met by the use of cloth, and from the day that it was first used it has become more and more a factor in book manufacturing. when so commonplace a binding material as cloth was selected, artists and binders and publishers considered that ornamentation on such a material was almost a waste of time and money. so the libraries of our grandfathers contained rows of gloomy and unattractive books, bound in black cloth stamped in old-fashioned designs, with a back title of lemon gold, and it is only comparatively a few years ago that binding in cloth began to be considered worthy of the attention of the designer and the artist, but since then the demand for a more varied assortment and a wider choice of colors and patterns has been steadily growing. let us consider briefly the different kinds of book cloths that are most commonly used to-day and try to make clear to the lay reader the different fabrics, whose nomenclature is so frequently confused even by binders and publishers. book cloths, from their appearance and manufacture, fall into two natural divisions, the first being the so-called "solid colors," in which the threads of the cloth are not easily distinguishable. this division contains two grades of cloth, generally known as common colors and extra colors. the standard width of all book cloths is thirty-eight inches. the commons and extras are sold by the roll, and the standard number of yards to the roll of these fabrics is thirty-eight. the second division consists of the so-called "linens" and "buckrams," in which each thread, with the imperfections and peculiarities of the weaving, are plainly seen and form a large part of their picturesque effect. the first of the "common colors" to be used was the black cloth already referred to, but they are now made in many colors, though chiefly in simple, pronounced shades, such as browns, blues, greens, and reds. these cloths have been dyed, and sized with a stiffening preparation. they are the cheapest of the solid colors and are used in various patterns, which are embossed on the surface during the process of manufacture. the ordinary patterns which are in the greatest use to-day are designated in the trade by letters. perhaps the most familiar is the "t" pattern, straight parallel ridges or striations, about forty to the inch, and running across the cloth from selvage to selvage. when properly used, these ribs run from top to bottom of a book cover. for this reason it is not economical to use the "t" pattern if the height of the cover is not a multiple of the width of the cloth, as it results in a waste of cloth. this explains why the cost of the book bound in "t" pattern is frequently somewhat higher than the same book bound in another pattern of the same cloth. a similar design is the "s" or silk pattern, made up of finer lines running diagonally across the cloth, giving the surface a sheen somewhat resembling silk. also in common use are a group of patterns composed of small irregular dots or points, the finest of which is known as the "c" pattern, a coarser pattern of similar design, the "j," and, coarser still, the "l," which has somewhat the appearance of the coarse grain of a morocco leather. the pattern known as "h" is a simple diamond made by intersecting diagonal lines similar to the ribs of the "t" pattern. other patterns in less common use are those resembling morocco leather, pigskin, and patterns in fancy designs. following the increased use of the common cloths, attention was given to the artistic effects which might be obtained by using colored inks and gold on lettering and design, and also to the effect obtained by pressure of hot binders' dies or stamps upon covers made with embossed cloths, which latter process is known in binding as "blanking" or "blind" stamping. with these advances in the art of cover decoration came the demand for the more delicate tints and richer shades of the colors, and as a result finer colors than could be produced in the common cloths were introduced to meet this demand; these fabrics were called the "extra" cloths. they have a solid, smooth surface, more "body," and are in every way firmer and better fabrics, and more costly, too, some of the shades costing from twenty to forty per cent more than the common cloths. extra cloths are used largely on the better class of bindings, such as the popular fiction, holiday books, scientific books, and books of reference, and whenever fine coloring or a better appearance is desired. these cloths are chiefly used in the plain fabric, which is known as "vellum," and in the "t," "s," and "h" patterns. the trained eye easily recognizes extra cloth from the common cloths, by the appearance of the surface; but any one may readily distinguish them by the appearance of the back, which in the extra cloths is not colored, but in the commons is the same color as the face. of the second division of cloths, in which the appearance of the threads becomes a part of the effect, there are first the "linen" cloths. the name "linen" applied to this group is really a misnomer, for many laymen are led to think that such cloths have flax as a foundation and are therefore genuine linens. this is not so, for there is but one genuine linen book cloth to be had, and that is a coarse, irregularly woven cloth, dyed in dull colors, and manufactured by a foreign house. it is quite expensive, costing sixty cents a square yard, which is one of the reasons why it is seldom used. the chief characteristics of the linen cloths are that the coloring used fills the interstices, but allows all the threads to be clearly seen. the irregularities of the weaving, therefore, stand out plainly, and produce to a certain extent the appearance of woven linen fabrics. linen book cloths are made in two grades, and are sold by the yard under special names given to them by the manufacturers. the cheaper grade is sold under the name of "vellum de luxe," "x" grade, or "oxford." a better grade of linen book cloth sells (in ) at about sixteen cents per yard under the names "art vellum," "b" grade, and "linen finish." it is a very durable fabric and extensively used. the linen cloths are made principally in the plain surface, and in the "t" pattern, but almost never in any other patterns, the reason for this being the fact that the character of the cloth is very little changed by the embossing, which is used with greater effect on the solid colors. these linen cloths are especially adapted for school and other books which are constantly handled, as their construction shows the wear less than do the solid colors. the buckrams might have been properly classed with the linens, as that is what, in fact, they are. linen cloth observed through a microscope which magnifies the threads to a coarseness of about forty to the inch gives us the exact appearance of the buckram, which is a heavy, strong cloth well adapted to large books, and which furnishes the most durable binding of all the book cloths. the colors of buckrams correspond closely with those of the linens; they are also sold under trade names given them by manufacturers, such as "art canvas" and "e" grade. buckrams are sometimes embossed to imitate in part the appearance of an irregularly woven fabric called "crash." crash is a special cloth which might properly be classed with the buckrams, and when suitably used is a very artistic material. basket cloth is still another material which could properly be included with the buckrams. this grade of cloth gains its name from the fact that the threads are woven in squares resembling a basket mesh. they are made in the same coloring as the linen cloths. in describing the cloths above, only those of american manufacture have been considered. there are english cloths which correspond to nearly all of these fabrics, but they are little used in america on account of the delay in importing them and because of the duty, which makes the price here higher than for corresponding grades of domestic manufacture. one cannot stand before the windows of the large book stores at holiday time without being impressed by the possibilities offered by the many colors and patterns of cloths and the varied hues of inks and foil, in helping the artist to make books attractive to the eye, and suggestive of the sentiment and motive of their contents. one feels that the designer of book covers has surely a wider field to-day than when he confined his attention entirely to making intricate designs for single leather-bound folios. book leathers by ellery c. bartlett. there is hardly any part of the world that has not been drawn upon for suitable skins to be made into leather for bookbinding. the skins generally used are goat, seal, pigskin, cowhide, calf, and sheep, and they vary in quality according to the country they come from and the manner in which the animals are cared for, the stall-fed animals, or those that are protected from storm and have regular food, producing the best skins. in preparing these skins for bookbinders, great care has to be taken to extract as much of the natural oil as possible, as this is apt to discolor the gold leaf decorations put on by the artistic binder. tanners usually buy skins with the hair on. they are first put into water, for the purpose of softening them, after which they are laid over a beam and a knife is drawn over them, to still further soften them. they are then put into vats containing slack lime-water, which loosens the hair and kills the animal life remaining in the skin. after having been in these vats for a period of about ten days, they are washed in water, to remove the lime and clean the skin. afterwards they are put through a process called "bating," which destroys any animal matter in the skins which may have escaped the first process, and they are then finally cleansed by a solution of bran and water, which also prepares them for tanning. after the skins have been in tan for a week or more, they are taken out, tacked on drying frames and all the wrinkles stretched out of them. when thoroughly dry, they are ready for the coloring process. after being colored, they are again tacked on the frames; and when they are thoroughly dry again they are taken to the graining room, where the finishing processes are done by skilled workmen, the utmost care being needed to produce the desired result. the matching of shades is a very difficult process, as the question of color must be decided while the skins are still wet. weather conditions have a very important bearing on the manufacture of leather, and changes in the atmosphere often spoil all the careful work that has previously been put on a skin. the finest leather for books comes from france, although a good quality is made in england and germany, and the united states is rapidly improving its output. the graining of the leather to bring out the natural grain in the skin, is done by hand and sometimes by electroplate reproductions of the natural grain by means of the embossing press. when large grain is wanted, the skins are shaved only slightly on the back; if small grains are wanted, the skins are shaved thinner. this process removes all roughness from the back of the skin, leaving it smooth and clean. formerly the binder, in preparing his covers, was compelled to pare the edges with a knife, which was a slow and laborious process; but now--thanks to the inventive american talent--he can have the whole skin split to any desired thickness or thinness, without injury; or, he can have the edges pared by cleverly devised machinery. leather manufacturers are able, by using splitting machines, to split skins so that both parts of a skin can be used--the upper part of the skin being called the grain and the lower the flesh. were this not the case, it would be impossible for the binder to supply the needs of his customers, as the output does not keep pace with the constantly increasing demand. in fact, binders are constantly looking for substitutes, but, after all, there is nothing so good as leather. the binding by jesse fellowes tapley. the changes in the methods of bookbinding during the last sixty years have been very great, and during the last twenty-five years the invention of machines for doing the work rapidly has created almost a revolution in the art. fifty years ago the pay of journeymen bookbinders ranged from eight to ten dollars a week, for a day of ten hours, and the cost of binding an ordinary mo volume of pages in cloth was from sixteen to eighteen cents. to-day the same volume can be bound for eight to ten cents, with the pay of the journeyman from eighteen to twenty dollars a week, for a day of nine hours. the pay of girls has, as a general thing, been proportionally increased, while the amount of work they can turn out with the newly invented machinery is triple as much as could be done by hand, and on some branches of the work it is more than six times as much. the first process of making a book is the folding. the sheets are usually printed so as to fold in sections of sixteen pages, with signature figures, as , , , or alphabet letters, as a, b, c, printed at the bottom of the first page of each section, for the guidance of the binder in placing the signatures in regular order for gathering the book. usually two or four forms are printed on one sheet. one girl could fold by hand from to sections of pages a day. with modern machines the range is from , to , , according to the make of the machine and whether it is equipped with an automatic feeder or not. there are three styles of machines in general use. the point machine, fed by hand, has needle points on the feed board, on which is placed the sheet, which has proper holes made by the printing press. the next is called a drop-roll machine, which, if equipped with an automatic feeder, will fold , sections a day, delivering two sections at each revolution. the next is called a quadruple machine, which, with an automatic feeder, will fold , sections a day or as many as twelve girls could do by hand. in binderies where large editions of books are done, it would be almost impossible to keep the different sections from getting mixed, unless they were put into compact bundles and tied up until the complete book is folded. this is accomplished by putting a quantity of each section into hydraulic or screw presses, with a board at the top and bottom of the bundle, which is tied with a strong cord. they are then marked with name and signature, and piled up until wanted for gathering into books. if the book has plates printed separately from the text, they have to be inserted before it can be gathered. plating is done by girls, being a day's work for an experienced hand. gathering comes next. the sections are laid out in separate piles in consecutive order, and one signature taken from each pile, making a complete book. from , to , sections is a day's work. after gathering, the book is pressed to make it solid. this is done by passing it through a powerful press, called a smashing machine. the old-fashioned way was to pile the books between boards in a standing press, running the screw down with an iron lever, and allowing them to stay in same for several hours. in a modern smashing machine a book can be made as solid in half a minute as the standing press will make it by ten hours' pressing. from the smashing machine it goes to the collator, by whom it is examined to see if any signature is misplaced or left out. it then goes to the modern sewing machine. this is one of the most valuable labor-saving machines for the binder ever invented, as it almost, if not entirely, supersedes hand sewing on what is called edition work. this machine will sew from , to , signatures a day, and do it better than it can be done by hand. each signature is sewed independently and with from two to five stitches, so that if one breaks the signature is held fast by the others, while in hand sewing the thread goes through the whole length of the signature, and if by chance it is broken, the book is ruined so far as the sewing is concerned. in addition the machine does more work, in the same time, than five or six girls sewing by hand. after sewing, the books are prepared for trimming by "jogging up" in bunches of the proper thickness, for the cutting machine. if the work is large or the paper highly sized and slippery, a light coating of glue is applied to the centre of the back, to keep the signatures in place. in olden times books were trimmed in a press having hardwood jaws and wood screws near each end, worked with an iron lever. into this press the books were clamped, the rough edge to be trimmed off projecting above the jaws. to trim the book, a plough was used, made of two thick side pieces of hard wood about one foot long and six inches high, with a long hand screw passing through them. (the end at the right had a handle outside of the side piece, and the end at the left engaged a screw in the left side piece.) at the bottom of the right side piece, and resting on the jaw of the press, was a sharp-pointed knife. the plough was worked back and forth, and at each motion the screw in the plough was turned enough for the knife to take a shaving from the book. to keep the plough in place, the left-hand jaw had a deep groove on its surface, in which the plough worked. this was slow and hard work. sometime between the years and , a machine was invented in which books were clamped, and a heavy knife descended perpendicularly. this was an improvement on the old-fashioned press and plough, but it was found that, unless the knife was very sharp, the tendency was to draw the paper, and in effect jam it off rather than cut it. to obviate this, the next move was to arrange the knife so that it would give a drawing cut, or come down on a slant, rather than a rigid descent. this is the principle on which most book and paper cutting machines are made to-day. about a machine was invented in which a vibrating knife worked back and forth on the paper to be cut. this was thought at the time to be the best principle for a cutting machine. ten or twenty years later a new machine made its appearance. this one had a knife held rigidly in the frame of the machine, and the books were clamped into a carriage drawn up by a chain against the edge of the knife. it was the most rapid trimmer that had appeared, and held its position for a good many years; but in the meantime, for general work, the machines with a descending slanting knife held their own and multiplied. within a very short time a new machine has appeared. this has two slanting descending knives and doubles the work of the older machines, as it cuts two sides at one blow, and will trim from to ordinary books a day, against or by the old-fashioned press and plough. after the edges are trimmed, the book is rounded and backed. in this process, too, great improvement has been made. originally this work was done by hand with a hammer, the rounding being accomplished by striking one side of the back as the book lay flat, and then the other, forming it at the same time by the hand, to give the back the convex, and the front the concave, form. some persons are found now who think the hollow or concave front of the book is made by trimming it in that way. the backing process gives the groove on which the cover is hinged. in olden times this was done by clamping the book in a press between backing irons, with the back projecting enough to give the proper groove, and gradually drawing it over from the centre with the hammer. in small job shops this is the practice to-day, but in large establishments it has given place to modern machines. the first innovation was what is called the roller backer. this makes the groove, the book being first rounded as described. then came the rounder and backer, which is run by power, and both rounds and backs the book at one operation. to show the advance made, it may be stated that books was a good day's work with press and hammer. with the advent of the roller backer was a fair day's work, but when the power machine was invented, the production jumped up to and over, a day. after the book is rounded and grooved, the back is glued and a piece of coarse woven cloth, wide enough to lap over each side an inch or more, is put on, and over this another coat of glue and a piece of paper the width of the back are applied. the book is then ready for the cover, which is put on by pasting the first and last leaf, drawing the cover on, and putting it in press between boards whose edges are bound with a brass band, the rim projecting above the surface of the board. this rim presses the cloth between the covers and the back of the book, making a hinge upon which the cover opens. two men can paste and press to books a day. a new machine has been put on the market within a year, that, with the same help, will do the work at the rate of a day. this process is termed "casing in." the making of the book cover is a distinct branch in binding edition work. the pasteboard formerly was cut by hand shears, one piece at a time. it is now done by rotary shears, cutting from six to ten pieces as fast as the sheets of board can be fed to the machine. the cloth for the cover is cut to the proper size, glued by hand, the boards laid on by gauge, and the edges turned in with a folder. a man expert at the work can make from to covers a day. about fifteen years ago a machine was invented, which turns out from to a day. this machine is automatic in its operation, gluing the cloth, laying on the boards, turning in the edges, and delivering a more perfect cover than can be made by hand. stamping the cover is a trade by itself. it requires long experience and skill to make an expert. there are several branches in this trade, such as blank or blind stamping, stamping with ink (or a colored leaf made to take the place of ink), and stamping with gold. laying gold preparatory to stamping is a distinct branch, and is done by girls. this is such a delicate operation that it requires long experience. there has been no improvement in the principle of the stamping or embossing press since the first machines came into use. the die or stamp is held in the head of the press by clamps, and the cover is placed on the platen or bed of the press, which is raised up to the stamp by a "toggle joint" operated with a "cam." since covers began to be ornamented with ink, attachments have been added to the presses for inking the stamps. there have also been invented powerful printing presses, made for stamping covers in ink. the process is the same as on common printing presses. the dies used for stamping covers are cut on hardened brass, and are capable of standing an immense pressure. they are not set in chases, as are the forms on printing presses, but are glued to iron plates. the head of the press to which the plates are clamped is heated, either by running a jet of live steam through it, or by gas jets. for gilt work, or colored leaf, heat is necessary. the cover is prepared with a coat of size. the gold or ink leaf is then laid on and an impression is given with the heated die, which melts the size and fastens the leaf only at the point where the die strikes. the surplus leaf is brushed off, leaving only the design visible. the binding of cheap leather-covered books is essentially the same as with cloth. the difference is that the covers must be made by hand. no machine will do any part, except paring the edges of the covers. there are several machines that will do this work, one machine doing as much in a day as three men could with knife and paring stone in the old way. edge-gilding is another distinct branch of the trade, and is generally done before books are rounded and backed. the books are clamped, after trimming, between the jaws of powerful screw presses and the edges scraped to make them perfectly smooth. they are then colored with a mixture of red chalk, or black lead, applied with a sponge, to give the gold a dark color. a size made of the white of eggs is then applied with a brush, the gold leaf floated on, and when dry burnished with an agate or bloodstone. no machine has yet been invented that will do this work. edge-marbling is another branch. a shallow trough is filled with a solution of gum hog or gum tragacanth of the consistency of thick cream. each color, which must be ground very fine, is mixed in water and ox-gall, and sprinkled separately over the surface of the gum with brushes. the ox-gall prevents the colors from mixing together on the solution, every drop being distinct. if three or more colors are used, the first one containing a little gall, the second more than the first, and the third more than the second, each color will make a place for itself by crowding the others into a narrower space. the books are held firmly in a clamp, and as the edges are dipped into the solution they take up the colors as they lie on the surface. there are other edges called for besides the gilt, the marbled, or the plain smooth cut. the deckle edge is left uncut, just as it comes from the paper-maker. the uncut or rough cut is made by taking off any projecting edges of the leaves. there are machines for doing this, one having a circular knife rigged like a circular saw, the book being run lengthwise against it. there are also other methods of removing overhanging leaves, one by using hand shears, another by filing. in fine leather binding, while the preparation of the book for the cover is essentially the same as in cloth work, the covering is all hand-work, requiring experience and skill, and is a distinct branch of the trade. finishing by hand is another, and requires long experience to become an expert. gold ornamentation requires heated tools, and in the hands of a practised finisher beautiful designs can be worked out with quite a limited assortment of rolls, straight and curved lines, and a few sprigs, dots, and stars. in olden times, when all work was done by hand, the product of a good-sized cloth bindery was from to books a day. now, with modern machinery, in a well-equipped bindery, the product is from to , copies of an ordinary mo book. there are a number of other machines in use, run by power, which have not been enumerated in the above sketch, such as wire and thread stitching machines, gluing and pasting machines, brushing machines, and last but not least a gold-saving machine, out of whose bowels large binders take from $ to $ worth of waste gold each month. this waste gold comes from the surplus gold brushed from the covers after stamping. special bindings by henry blackwell. much has been written about the art of special binding, and many lengthy treatises have been written on the various methods of early and modern "extra," or fine binders. it will be my province to describe the stages through which a book passes, from the time it is received in the bindery until it is shipped out of the establishment. i will take for my subject a rare old book that is to be rebound in a half-levant morocco binding. in a good shop, all books, no matter what the binding is to be, are treated alike in regard to workmanship, care, and materials. if a binder puts his name in the completed book, it is a sign that the book has been to the best of his ability honestly and well bound. when the customer brings the book to the binder, the style of binding, color of the leather, amount and kind of ornamentation, and all the other details are determined upon and entered carefully in a numbered order book, and the number of the order is marked in pencil on an inside leaf of the book itself, so that the original instructions may be referred to from time to time. this number is usually left in the book after it has been finished and delivered to the owner, and not infrequently has been the means of identifying a lost or stolen volume. the book is then given to the first operator, usually a girl, who removes the cover, if there is any, and takes the book apart, separating carefully each of the "signatures," or sections, and removing the threads of the old binding. if any of the pages are loose, they are pasted neatly in their proper places and the "insert plates" (illustrations, maps, etc.), which had been printed separately from the text and pasted in the volume, are examined to make sure that they are firmly fixed. another operator goes over the entire volume and cleans any of the pages that have become soiled. the book is then prepared for the sewing by a man who hammers the back until it is flat and all the edges of the signatures lie evenly. he then divides it into sections of half a dozen or more signatures, places each of these between smooth wooden boards, and puts the whole into an upright iron press, in which it is subjected to a great pressure, and where it ought to remain over night in order to make it entirely flat and solid. a better way of pressing a book at this stage of the operation is to pass it several times through a rolling machine, which is made for this special purpose with two heavy iron rollers, say twenty inches long and ten inches in diameter. these machines are seldom used in america, but are invariably found in the equipment of binders' workshops abroad, which is perhaps one reason why english books are so solidly bound. following the pressing, or the rolling, the book is placed, back uppermost, in another press, something like a wooden vise. by means of a handsaw, several cuts, just deep enough to cut entirely through the fold of each signature, are made across the back of the book. seven of these saw marks are usually made, the five in the middle being for the cords on which the book is sewed, and the two at the ends for threads which help to make the sewing more secure. if the book is to have a binding with raised bands across the back, no actual cuts are made, the back being simply scratched to guide the girl in sewing, so that the heavy twine on which she sews will stand out on the back, forcing the leather up in the five middle places and forming the raised bands. after it has been sawed, or scratched, the book goes to a girl who collates it--that is, examines it thoroughly, signature by signature, and makes sure that everything is in its right place. if the volume is old or especially valuable, it is gone over page by page. the first and last signatures are then whip-stitched, or sewed over and over along the back edges, and then put in their places. the book is then sewn on a "sewing frame." this is a small wooden table about twelve by eighteen inches, with legs only one inch high. at two corners there are upright wooden screws, some fifteen inches long with movable collars which support a crosspiece. to this crosspiece are fastened three stout cords, their other ends being attached to the table. the position of these cords are regulated to fit the saw marks on the back of the book, then they are tightened by means of the screw collars. the sections of the book are then placed against these cords, one by one, and the threads passed through the saw cuts and outside the cords, thus sewing them firmly to the back of the book. when several books of the same size are being bound at one time, the operator goes right on sewing book after book, one signature after the other, until she has finished a pile of books a foot or more high. when the sewing is finished the cords are cut so as to leave a free end of an inch and a half on each side of the book, and to these ends are fastened the boards, as described later. linen or silk thread is used in sewing, the heaviness of which depends upon the size of the book and the thickness of the paper of the book. if the book has many single leaves, or illustrations, it is sometimes necessary to whip-stitch each signature before sewing. the book, or the pile of books, then passes to the "forwarder," who "draws off" or separates each book from the others in the pile, and again hammers the book, to flatten out any "swell" which may be present after the sewing. he then pastes, or "tacks," the first and last whip-stitched signatures to the signatures next them, this pasting being only, say, an eighth of an inch wide along the back edge. the paper is then chosen for the "end papers," usually matching closely the paper of the book. they are cut a little larger than the paper page of the book, and pasted along the edge to the outside and whip-stitched signatures. marble paper in suitable harmony or contrast with the leather to be used on the book is then selected for lining the inside of the covers cut to the same size as the "end papers," and pasted to them, after having been folded so that the colored sides come face to face. when all this pasting has dried thoroughly, the back of the book is covered with a thin coating of glue, to preserve its shape and then, while the back is quite flat, the front edges of the leaves are trimmed off evenly in a cutting machine. if this edge is to be gilded, special care is taken to have the edges cut smoothly. the back is then "rounded" by use of a hammer; if the book is to be a "flat back" one, the rounding is very slight. it is necessary even in the case of a flat back book to round it somewhat so that it will retain its shape when the finished book is placed on the shelf. after the rounding, the top, or "head," and the bottom, or "tail," of the book are trimmed evenly in the cutting machine. the book is then ready for the gilder, who places it, with the edge which is to be gilded uppermost, in a press. this edge is covered with red chalk, which shows all the uneven places, which are then scraped with a steel scraper. this operation is repeated until the edge is very smooth, and it is then treated with a sizing made of white of egg and water, which is to hold the gold leaf to the edges of the leaves. the gold leaf is laid on the still wet edge, and when slightly dry is covered with a sheet of paper and rubbed down with a burnisher, and when entirely dry is burnished again with a smooth piece of agate or bloodstone. the boards, pieces of strong and durable binders' "boards" made of paper or tarred rope, are then selected and cut to fit the book, extending about one-eighth of an inch over the head, tail, and front edges of the leaves. each of the cords, on which the book has been sewed, is moistened with paste, and put through two holes which are punched side by side in the board and within a quarter of an inch of the inside edge. the cord is carried down through one hole, and up through the other, and the remaining end is cut off and hammered down smooth where it stays firmly fastened by the paste. this is called "lacing on the boards" and when finished makes, so far as strength is concerned, the cover-boards and the inside of the book practically one piece. the book is then given another long pressing. the coverer then takes the volume. he first wraps the edges with paper to keep them clean and then puts on the headbands. these are either sewn directly on to the book or may be bought ready-made, when they are put on with glue. the back is covered with a strip of coarsely woven crash lined with several pieces of paper. this is glued to the back to make it hard and solid and to prevent it from cracking, or "breaking," when the book is opened. the leather is then cut out for the corners and for the back, in the latter case allowance being made for its extension over and on to the boards to the proper distance. the back lining is trimmed off to the top of the headbands, and the leather is pasted on the rough side in position and turned in at the "head" and "tail" of the back. the five raised bands are then "pinched up" and the whole back is polished, or "crushed," with a hot polisher until the leather is smoothed down to the desired surface. in decorating the cover, or "tooling" it, as it is called, the design is first pressed into the leather of the back with heated tools. these designs, appearing "blank," or sunken, in the leather, are washed over with a thin coat of paste and water, followed by a sizing of albumen, and finally with vaseline, to make the gold stick. gold leaf is laid over the "blank" designs and the same heated tools used to press the gold into the leather. as many as three layers of gold are frequently put on in this way until the design is full and clear. the waste edges of the pieces of gold leaf are removed with a piece of soft rubber and the whole back washed with benzine to remove the grease of the vaseline and that of the natural leather. the part of the leather which projects over the sides is pasted to the boards, trimmed off straight, and pared down until the edges are very thin. another piece of plain paper is then cut out and pasted on the board, covering it right up to the edges of the leather. this makes the side board and the leather even in height and prevents the outside marbled paper from showing ridges made by the edges of the leather. when the outside has dried, a piece of paper is pasted on the inside of each board. this paper has a tendency to shrink a little and to warp the boards, so that they will hold tightly to the inside of the book. if this paper were not put on the inside of the covers, the marbled paper on the outside might cause the boards to warp away from the book itself. the end papers are then pasted down on to the board, and when thoroughly dry all the leather along the inside and the outside edges of the cover sides is carefully washed and polished with an iron polisher. the book is then placed between plates made of steel, either nickel or silver plated, and placed in the press to remain a day or two, after which the back is polished again and the sides are finished with gilt lines along the edges of the leather next to the marbled paper. then the book is finally inspected, a silk marker inserted, and the volume is done and ready for delivery. copyrighting by frederick h. hitchcock. copyrighting a book is in most instances not a difficult matter, but the present united states laws are so complicated and inconsistent that an inexperienced author may readily fall into errors of one kind or another. in a modern publishing house, the routine work of complying with the provisions of the copyright laws is usually in the hands of one clerk, who is responsible for the preparation and filing of the necessary documents at the proper time and for keeping a complete record of all that he does. experience soon brings such a clerk a really valuable knowledge of the law, but as many questions of vital importance arise from time to time, it is customary for one of the most responsible men in the concern, generally a member of the firm or an officer in the corporation, to exercise a general supervision of all copyright matters. when a book is ready to be sent to the bindery, the manufacturing department will generally order a certain number of copies to be finished in advance of the rest of the edition. some of these will be for the travelling salesman's use, some for the publicity department, and at least two for copyright purposes. with the copies delivered to the copyright clerk, the manufacturing department will send one or two separate title-pages, either torn from the printed sheets or taken from the early proofs made by the printer. with these in hand and with information from the selling department as to the day when the book is to be published, the clerk in charge will then take the first step toward copyrighting it. this is the filing of the claim for copyright and of the title of the book. the copyright office in the library of congress at washington supplies free upon request application blanks, and one of these must be carefully filled in. the information called for by this blank is as follows: the amount of the fees enclosed, whether a sealed copy of the record, or certificate as it is called, is desired, whether the volume is to be classed as a book, periodical, or dramatic composition, an abbreviated title of the book, the name of the author, or proprietor, the name and address of the applicant, the name of the country where the book was printed, whether the applicant is the author, or (having an assignment from the author) the proprietor, the name of the country of which the author is a citizen, or subject, and whether the whole or a part of the book is sought to be copyrighted. there is a blank page in the form where the print or proof of the title-page must be pasted. if neither of these is available at the time, it is customary to use a typewritten title-page, but as the law distinctly calls for a "printed" title and as the courts have not decided whether typewriting is printing within the intention of the law, it is best to follow the exact letter of the law. the fee for filing the application or claim for copyright is fifty cents if the author is a citizen or resident of the united states, or one dollar if he is a foreigner. if a copy of the record entered at the copyright office is desired, an additional fifty cents is required. the fees, preferably in the form of a money-order, are enclosed in the envelope containing the claim, and the whole forwarded, postage prepaid, to the register of copyrights at the library of congress. upon receiving these, the copyright office will acknowledge the receipt of the fees and make a record of the claim and of the title in books provided for the purpose. the law specifies that this record shall be in the following words:-- "library of congress, to wit: be it remembered that on the___day of________ ________________ of_________has deposited in this office the title of a book, the title of which is in the following words, to wit:____________, the right whereof_______ claims as author and proprietor in conformity with the laws of the united states respecting copyrights. ______________librarian of congress." it is generally the custom to obtain a copy of this record, which, if the fee is enclosed, is sent to the claimant as soon after the receipt of the application as it can be made out in the regular course of the business of the copyright office. this copy is signed by the register of copyrights and is sealed with the official seal of the library of congress. the period of protection under an original claim is twenty-eight years. it is important to remember that the application and the title are required by law to be delivered to the register of copyrights "on or before the day of publication in this or any other country." if delayed until after that day, the book cannot have the protection of the copyright law. prior to none but citizens or residents of the united states could obtain copyright, but in july of that year the privilege was extended to the citizens, or subjects, of such other countries as grant to the citizens of the united states the same copyright privileges which they afford to their own countrymen. at the present time these privileged countries are belgium, france, great britain and her possessions, switzerland, germany, italy, denmark, portugal, spain, mexico, chile, costa rica, the netherlands (holland) and her possessions, cuba, china, and norway. the law also requires that a book desired to be copyrighted in the united states must be printed in this country. it is, therefore, not possible to copyright a book which has been put into type and electrotyped in england and sent here for the presswork and binding. copies of a book manufactured in this country may, however, be sent to england and copyrighted there. the second step is to send two copies of the printed book for deposit in the copyright office, and until this has been done, the copyright is incomplete. these copies, like the title, must be delivered on or before the day of publication. a printed receipt-form for books to be deposited is supplied by the copyright office, and it is the usual practice for the sender to fill in his address, and the names of the book and of the author, so that when the books are received, the register of copyrights needs only to date and sign the receipt-form and return it to the sender. this receipt-form should be enclosed with the books when they are forwarded. the package must be plainly addressed (the copyright office furnishes printed labels if desired) and sent, carriage prepaid, through the mail. it not infrequently happens that publication must be made before the two copies of a book can reach washington. in such cases the copyright clerk may take the books to the nearest post-office and obtain from the postmaster a dated receipt for them which is equivalent to delivery to the copyright office. the package is not finally wrapped until the postmaster has examined it. when these steps have been properly taken, and the certificate, or sealed copy, of the record and the receipt for the two copies have been received, the copyright is secure so far as our laws can render it. it should be borne in mind that the copyright office does not grant a copyright in a manner similar to the granting of a patent right by the patent office. its function is simply to record in a permanent place and in official form the claim made by the author, or by the proprietor, of that right. when a book is "pirated" and the offender sued, it must first be established by the records that the provisions of the law have been complied with fully and correctly. in this way a copyright is always subject to review by the courts. every copy of a book for which copyright has been claimed must have a formal notice to that effect, printed on its "title-page or on the page following." as prescribed by law, this notice must read either "entered according to the act of congress in the year by a. b. in the office of the library of congress," or simply, "copyright, , by a. b." the omission of such a notice from the book would make it impossible for its owner to prevent its being reprinted. there is a penalty of $ for using the notice of copyright in an uncopyrighted book, and when the notice is used, there is a penalty of $ , if the two copies as required by law are not deposited. this latter penalty also applies in the case of failure to deposit one copy of a new edition differing from the former one, if a notice of copyright is used in the new edition. in order to obtain a renewal of a copyright, the claim and the title must be filed on a form provided for the purpose with the register of copyrights "within six months before the expiration of the first term," which would be sometime between twenty-seven and one-half and twenty-eight years from the date of filing the original title. the copyright period runs from the date of filing the original claim, and not from the time of depositing the books, and great care should be taken to ascertain the date of the registration of the original title, and to compute the time so that the filing of the application for renewal will surely fall within the specified six months. the renewal period is fourteen years, and the fees are the same as in the case of the original application, but a certificate, or copy of the record, of the renewal claim must be taken and paid for by the claimant. only one copy of a book is required to be deposited to complete the claim for a renewal term of copyright. this copy also must be delivered within "six months before the expiration of the first term," and should be accompanied by a receipt as in the case of the original deposit. in order to complete the claim, a copy of the certificate must be published verbatim, within two months of the date of renewal for four weeks in one or more newspapers printed in the united states. in obtaining international copyright, publication on the same day here and abroad is necessary, and this is sometimes a cause of considerable inconvenience in actual practice. when a new york publisher wishes to copyright in england a novel which he is about to publish, he must prepare six special copies of the finished book, bind them in cloth, print the copyright notice on the back of the title-page, and the name and address of the london firm or the individual who is willing to act as the english publisher of the book, and forward the copies to that person. at the same time he will write to this agent, telling him of the shipment and requesting him to enter the book for copyright and publish it in england on or about such a date. he will, of course, allow sufficient time for the books to reach london, and he will carefully point out in his letter any american holidays which occur near the probable date of publication. upon receiving the books, the london agent will cable the new york publisher the date on which he will publish the book, taking care to allow an interval of a day or two, because of a possible delay. on the day agreed upon, the new york publisher proceeds to copyright and publish his book in this country in the usual manner, while the london agent does the same abroad, delivering to the british museum one copy of the book, and to stationer's hall, for use in certain libraries, four copies. both of them will on that day sell at least one or two copies which will constitute a legal publication. it is the custom with many publishers to establish the publication day of all of their books, by displaying a few copies, or by actually selling one or more copies to some one. in the case of a very popular copyrighted book which it is desirable to have the retailers all over the country begin to sell on the same day, it is deemed safer to make this technical publication before any of the books are distributed through the trade. a record of the first sales entered in a publisher's sales-book in the course of business would effectually prevent any one from claiming in after years a right to reprint a book on the ground that the claim, title, and copies were not originally filed until after the book had been put upon the market. under a recent amendment in our law, an author of a book in a foreign language, who is a citizen of one of the foreign countries which allows to our citizens the same copyright privileges as are allowed to its own countrymen, is permitted to file in the copyright office within thirty days after its publication in a foreign country a copy of his book with a formal declaration that he is the author and that he intends to translate it or to print it in its original language and to apply for copyright in the united states. after doing this, he is allowed one year in which to complete his proposed translation or to print it in the original language and copyright it here. before this statute was passed, two or more persons could translate a foreign book, and each could copyright his own translation. every copy of a book for which such protection is desired under this law must bear a notice stating, "published ---- nineteen hundred and ----. privilege of copyright in the united states reserved under the act approved march , , by a. b." only the author or his assignee (_i.e._ the proprietor) may secure copyright in a book. an author may transfer orally all or part of his rights before publication, but after publication it is necessary for him to make the assignment by some form of written instrument. in order to make it a valid assignment, the original instrument must be sent to be recorded in the office of the librarian of congress within sixty days after its execution. the fee for recording an assignment is one dollar. after the original document has been recorded, it is signed and sealed and returned to the sender, who should preserve it with the certificate. it is a common practice to have in the contract between the author and his publisher a clause assigning to the publisher all of the author's rights for the "full term of copyright and for any and all renewals." the agreement, of course, includes other provisions such as for the payment of the usual royalties, accounting, etc. having been made before publication such an assignment does not need to be recorded in the copyright office. the history of copyright is an extremely interesting subject, but it cannot be properly treated in the limits of this article. it may be mentioned, however, that the first copyright law was enacted by parliament during queen anne's reign and is known as " anne, c. ." this statute provided that an author should have complete control of his literary productions during a first term of fourteen years after publication, and a renewal term of the same length, and provided penalties against piracy. a great many questions concerning this law arose from time to time in trials before various courts, but perhaps the chief one of interest was that of whether the limitation of the period during which it granted protection had destroyed the author's rights which had existed previously. for fifty years after the passage of the law, the decisions were that the right of ownership existed for all time as a right in common law unaffected by the statute, but in the highest english court held that while the rights of the author before the publication of his book remained unaffected, after publication he had no rights except during the period specified by the statute. this decision is still believed by many authorities to have been a wrong one, but it has been the basis for all subsequent copyright law in this country as well as in england. therefore in the united states to-day, the right of ownership lies in the author until his work is published, but upon publication he has no rights except those given him by law, and these he can obtain only by a strict compliance with the requirements of the law. any one who is sufficiently interested to read the first hundred pages of drone's "treatise on the law of property in intellectual productions" will be well repaid for the effort, and will obtain considerable light upon how the "right of copying," or printing, a book developed, why its duration is not unlimited, and why we must observe certain formalities in order to protect our literary work by it. publicity by vivian burnett. the duty of bringing the productions of a publishing house to the attention of the public is a very important one, and much depends upon the cleverness and energy with which it is discharged. it can easily be seen that no matter how good the books brought out by a firm, they would be likely to remain on stockroom shelves if readers were not properly made aware of their issue. the name "publicity department" is the most descriptive title that can be given to the part of the staff devoting its energies to the many variations of news-spreading involved in this work. publicity involves both editorial and commercial elements. from the editorial side it is of prime importance that the person in charge of the publicity have at the very beginning a complete and definite idea of the reasons that have ruled in the acceptance of a book,--what class of people it was published for, and just what species of a book it is considered to be. is it purposed to appeal to a certain religious class of people? is it for the distinctly literary? perhaps it is one of those volumes on the border line between a juvenile and an adult's book, which may be presented either as a volume for young or for grown-up folks. the publicity man must be in full understanding of this estimate before he can do his work properly. on the commercial side, he must know just the feeling of the trade in regard to an author and any type of book; and must be in close touch with the salesmen, not only at the beginning, but all through the life of the volume. he can learn from them what amount of success the author's previous books have met, and thus be enabled to present his volume in a way that will hitch on to a previous success or avoid the odium of a recent failure. salesmen can help him to know the interests of every section of the country, so that advantage can be taken of them in bringing the book to the local bookseller's attention and influencing him to a special effort in its behalf. few people are aware of the influence exerted by the book clerk, who can substitute something "just as good" much more easily than a drug or dry goods clerk, especially if he has a good argument to offer. the largest part of the publicity of a publishing house is aimed to influence the general reader, but more and more attention is to-day being paid to the salesman in the bookshop, and quite wisely, too. he cannot be expected to read all the books, and any effort made to give him an acquaintance with your books that goes beyond their covers is clear gain to him, to the publisher, and distinctly to the book-buying public. now, a book can be made or marred by the publicity it gets. if it is wrongly launched, it will have an uphill climb, whatever its virtues. this is especially true, as a result of the fact that a good deal is written and printed about a book before it is off press and present to speak for itself. one general rule should be most strictly adhered to in publicity, and that is, be honest and be sincere. nowhere is the rule "honesty is the best policy" more unanimously justified. you may be as enthusiastic as you please, but the book should be put forward for what it really is. only under such handling does it stand a chance for the full success its qualities warrant. this all reverts to the question of the editorial conception of a volume. some books are not made for great sellers; they are written for the keen enjoyment of a select educated few; and if so presented that they fall into the hands of the popular novel devourer, they will surely be condemned, and the condemnation will reach and have its effect upon many who should legitimately have bought the book. on the other hand, a novel of no literary quality thrust into the hands of a person of bookish tastes will make an influential enemy, who will doubtless have among his followers many persons to whom the book would appeal. it is best to find out what people will take the book, and advertise it to them. the process of emasculating your presentation of it by cutting out everything that would keep _anybody_ from reading it is a dangerous one. the dislikes of the world of readers are too many for one to be able to dodge them all, and, after all, most of us like a positive rather than a negative volume. just because many people do not read essays,--to take an extreme case,--is no reason for avoiding the statement that yours is a volume of essays. fortunately, there are thousands upon thousands of people who do read essays; and if the book is a good book of essays, they will bring their influence--that word-of-mouth influence which is almost as powerful as a "puff" by president roosevelt--to bear upon non-essay reading people, and you will be the gainer by that much for your wisdom and honesty. these observations are germane, and worthy consideration because commercialism and the endeavor to produce big sellers are always an influence to overstate, misstate, and be extravagant in the praise of a volume. but such extravagance always discounts itself in the mind of the reader, and experience has pretty definitely proved that what a prospective buyer wants is a straightforward concise indication of the story and its quality. a word of praise quoted from a review may help him make up his mind, yet he probably knows it is a pretty poor book of which _some_ newspaper doesn't say "holds the reader's interest from cover to cover" or "we hail the author of this volume as one of the most promising of our american writers." in considering the practical details of publicity, it will be clearest to take them in chronological order. first: the book should be thoroughly and critically read. the person in charge of the publicity ought to have every volume put into his hands as soon as it is accepted. when he has read it thoroughly and has formed his idea of it, he discusses it thoroughly with the person responsible for its acceptance. from this discussion, in which the sales department is represented, evolves naturally the "editorial attitude" upon which every line of future publicity and every sentence of salesman's talk will be based. without a complete understanding throughout the establishment of the "editorial attitude" the entire publicity will be aimless and unconvincing. the first work in publicity on a season's book is probably the catalogue, which must be had ready for the salesmen when they go off on their trips. the aim of the catalogue is to present as full an account of the book as possible. it is meant for the eye of an interested person, who can be counted upon to read rather a lengthy notice. every possible detail of price, number of illustrations, paper, size, kind of binding, table of contents, previous works by the same author, are given, and thus it becomes a complete reference book. it is the general custom of publishing houses to issue a complete catalogue in the fall, with a supplemental catalogue in the spring containing the books of the spring season. most firms also bring out a fall list, to present their fall books, which would be buried beyond notice in a bulky complete catalogue. in this fall list not infrequently the spring books are included, making what is really an annual catalogue. these three catalogues are essential, and they are as a rule supplemented by many special book lists and pamphlets. a holiday catalogue is a steady institution in nearly every publishing house. its aim is to present to christmas buyers the most attractive volumes of the house's issue, and it is usually elaborate, with many illustrations, a fine cover, and it is often printed in colors. then there are frequently issued catalogues of books on special subjects, art, children's books, special editions, etc. the uses of catalogues are many. a large number are sent to the publisher's best friend, the bookseller,--sometimes imprinted with his name,--who distributes them. they also go out by mail to special lists of people who are known to be interested in books, and a large number are sent to persons who write asking information. in elaborateness the circular follows close on the catalogue, and it has quite as wide if not a wider field. it is large or small, depending upon the importance of the book. sometimes it reaches the dignity of a bound pamphlet, but it is usually a single leaf or at most a four-page folder. here again, all necessary information of price and contents is given at length. but as the person into whose hands the circular falls cannot be counted on to be interested beforehand, the whole make-up and arrangement of the circular is calculated for drawing attention and fixing interest. the circular, therefore, must be made attractive. and here should be introduced a word in general on the appearance of the printed matter that is sent out by a publishing house. it must be good printing. it must be attractive printing. it is the indication to the people whose eyes it meets of the work of the house it advertises. few people want to buy badly made books; and, unconsciously, if a circular or catalogue is commonplace and badly printed, those qualities will be attached to the book advertised. and it is quite true, on the other hand, that the distinction and comely appearance of a circular will prejudice in favor of the book. moreover, a circular's service can be rendered only when it attracts attention, and what is spent in aiding it to catch the eye, through making it artistically beautiful and printing it in color, will bring its return and more in the added efficiency produced. there are, doubtless, people who would not be affected by bad printing, but people of taste, the people who most influence the sale of books, are sure to be antagonized. probably, the most useful circular of all is the little leaf or "slip" circular. it is printed on both sides, and is inserted between the leaves of books of similar interest to the one it advertises, usually about three to a book. it is made the size of the ordinary business envelope, for it is also used in direct circularization of lists and as an enclosure with bills, statements, and sometimes with general correspondence. often, when advertising two or more books, it has four or even eight pages, though the latter makes it almost too bulky for insertion in books. these larger circulars have an order form attached giving the list of books, and a place for the name and address of the prospective buyer,--a device to make it as easy as possible for him to order his selection. when such circulars are inserted in books either the order form is left off, or something substituted in its place, for, as can readily be seen, the order form is a bid for direct business by the publisher which would naturally be obnoxious to the bookseller. larger and more elaborate circulars than these as a rule are used only for direct circularization. the subject of circularization is much too important and complicated to be exhausted in a few paragraphs, or even in an extended article. enough has been said here, however, at least to suggest the circular's field. the next problem in publicity to be taken up is the poster. the poster has had its ups and downs, and in some quarters is a somewhat discredited form of advertising, but it has its value. the booksellers always demand posters. the one great argument against them is that posters good enough to attract attention, that is, with a good design and in colors, are somewhat expensive for book advertising. if properly exhibited, they sell books, but the difficulty lies in the fact that if they are _too_ attractive, they are likely to find their way into a poster collector's portfolio before they have been exposed long on the board. yet, especially with leading books of fiction, this is one of the risks that must be taken, for with each such publication, the public eye must be caught with the fact of the book's issue, and for this purpose a striking poster has no equal. for serious books inexpensive clear type posters are quite sufficient. the book being now nearly off press, there will be needed some matter for the paper jacket that slips over and protects the cloth cover while the book is on the stall. most important is the brief note on the front that serves to indicate the quality of the volume and thus guide the purchaser. on a book of fiction fifty or not more than seventy-five words of the very best possible presentation of the book is required. here is the place where most of all the prospective purchaser's interest must be aroused. here the most felicitous publicity inspiration is needed--and the problem is to indicate the story, yet not tell it, and to pique curiosity to the buying point. on books of a serious nature a jacket note is just as essential, if not more so, but the problem is different. the prospective purchaser of such a book as "irish history and the irish question," "the flower garden," for example, has an interest in the subject already aroused. what he wishes to know is the scope of the volume and the manner in which the subject is treated. the note for such a volume, therefore, should contain a plain, straightforward statement of the importance of the book, the point of view taken, a brief table of contents indicating the most important divisions of the subject, and some mention of the author's special qualification for writing the volume. on the back of the paper "jacket" and on the little flaps that turn at the sides of a book, it is customary to put advertisements of cognate books. often these paper jackets are treated in elaborate poster style, and for good reason, since as a rule they are the first part of a book a buyer sees, and his attention is not likely to be attracted if only cheap paper be used. the date of the book's publication has probably now been set, and the next step in publicity--a most important one--is the sending out of review copies. this is the last thing in which haphazard methods would be permissible. the list of newspapers who get complimentary copies should be carefully selected, not so much with an eye to size of circulation, as to quality and standing. a paper that is known to give attention to books is worth two that have merely large circulations and no distinction; first, because the books sent will be appreciatively reviewed, and, second, because people in the habit of buying books will consult the review columns and be influenced by them. there are possibly one hundred and fifty or one hundred and seventy-five papers in the united states to whom it would be profitable to send a book. a great many more, however, think they should receive them. with even the most popular novel two hundred review copies is a generously sufficient number to place for review. in deciding where these should go, the contents of the book itself is of course the guide. some books can be calculated to appeal more to one section of the country than to another because of their subject-matter. certain classes of people--ministers, school-teachers, sportsmen, doctors--can sometimes be drawn upon by the judicious distribution of a few complimentary copies, to assist the sale of a book, and then there is the home of the author, where special attention can always be expected. opinions differ as to the amount of influence exerted by reviews upon the fortunes of a book. it is certainly true that to trace direct returns from reviews is often difficult. frequently books which are splendidly reviewed move slowly, and there seems no explanation of their failure to "catch on." they may be, and frequently are, books of real value and quality. the history of publishing is full of such mysteries. on the other hand, _returns_ are visible enough when a book is slated by the press; there its power is amply evident. the american press is notably fair, notably discriminating, and notably independent. it gives its own views fearlessly, and resents any efforts made by publishers to get their own adjective-besprinkled puffs printed. in rush seasons it will make use of publisher's description, after carefully blue-pencilling obtrusive adjectives, but it goes no farther. in fact, the newspaper-review part of publishing publicity is best left alone. the book must do the work itself. the book has now reached the place where that which is commonly called advertising should begin; that is, publicity in newspapers and magazines. the use of newspapers, to any great extent at least, is a comparatively recent development in the publishing business, dating back not much more than ten years. its efficiency, that is to say, its proportion of return to outlay, is far from being established. while at the beginning of the movement great rewards were reaped, the light of more mature experience seems to show that those books which, under heavy newspaper advertising, reached editions of , to , were really special cases,--books of a peculiarly popular, almost low-grade, quality, that had an exceptional public. it is sure that what brought success with them would not succeed with the average publication. for this reason, publishers to-day are by no means as lavish as they used to be with their appropriation for newspaper advertising. yet even in this era of retrenchment a very large proportion of the money devoted to publicity still goes to the newspapers. while it would be foolish to attempt formulating a set of fixed rules for newspaper advertising, there are certain underlying principles that should be borne in mind. books are in the class of luxuries; most books at least. there is no natural demand for them to assist the advertiser, such as there is for food-stuffs. with a book, it is the advertiser's business to persuade the buyer that he will be interested or instructed or amused by the volume to the value of his outlay, be it a quarter or fifty dollars,--where in the matter of necessities and food commodities the advertiser's task is the much more simple one of proving that his product is intrinsically better or better value than any similar thing on the market. the sale of a book depends entirely upon the almost artificial desire that is created for it, whereas with other things there is a real need, and it is necessary only to prove that the article fills this need. for these reasons book advertising--with piano, picture, music, candy, and perhaps automobile advertising--is difficult to carry out profitably. it is the class most expensive proportionately to the value of the product, for it can count in only the smallest degree upon what is known as the "cumulative" effect of a campaign. every advertisement of such an article as a breakfast food, for example, whether it be on a bill-board, in a newspaper, or in a circular, adds to the effect of every other one. the repetition of the name, whether it be consciously or unconsciously observed by the public, assists in forcing attention and thus interest, and finally results in a sale. half a million dollars can be spent in making "whipped oats" a household word. every dollar backs up every other dollar, and the demand for whipped oats will last for years. "the return from davy jones," which can have at the very most say $ spent on it, benefits the very least from the cumulative effect, and the demand for the book is practically over in a year, especially if it be a popular novel. each newspaper advertisement of a book must in fact bring returns to pay for itself, and this, of course, demands the very cleverest kind of "copy." many elements enter into the popularity and sale-ability of a book, but no one seems to know just what they are. even the best and most experienced readers fail to pick successes--let big books go by them, and conversely praise volumes that turn out flat failures. yet certain things in the line of publicity can be counted upon to assist in making a volume's success. the name of a well-known author is the best asset a book can have. that gets it good advance sales and a quick and appreciative attention from the book reviewers. in this respect, nothing could better exemplify the new england homely proverb, "sich as has, gits." the work of publicity on a book by a well-known author is easy, if care is taken always to bring that author's name forward in connection with his previous achievements. this is especially true in regard to newspaper advertising. doctors violently disagree over book advertising principles, and possibly it is best to start by saying that there _are_ none and that each book is a rule unto itself. certainly a close and careful study of a book's points and the class of people to whom it would likely appeal, its "editorial qualities," is the only proper basis for a campaign. for the average novel by a well-known author the main problem is to let the world know it has been issued. therefore, in advertising in a newspaper, the announcement of the book's publication should be made in such a manner that all the readers of that paper will notice it. the campaign should start with what is technically known as a "must be seen" notice. it is the publisher's business to shout loud enough to be heard above the clatter of the small advertisements, "just out--new book by donan coyle, 'the return from davy jones.'" if some piquant description of the book follow, this should be sure to send all those readers of the paper interested in donan coyle to the bookshop in search of the new volume. much smaller "ads." following from time to time, that may catch the eye of the forgetful ones and arouse their interest by some words of personal or press commendation on the volume, would close a campaign of this kind, which would have naturally gathered in its trail many readers and even non-readers not distinctly interested in donan coyle. it would at least have started the mouth-to-mouth advertising of the book, to which paid-for advertising can after all be regarded only as assistant and support. in fact, when all is said and done the greatest service advertising does is in reminding people of books they have heard praised, and the best advertising is that placed on the road to the bookstalls, a strong argument for the poster, since it is exhibited in front of the bookshop, where it can catch the passer-by. in tune with this conception of the advertisement as an announcement is this general rule--advertise prominently the name of the book, and the author's name if it is important. these are commodities you have to sell, the things you wish people to ask for--just as the bacon-maker wants you to ask for "blank's bacons." for books that have no well-known author's name to assist them, or those for which a large sale cannot be forecasted at the start,--books that appeal to the select few,--other and more inexpensive methods must be pursued. in most such cases it is probable that any advertising in newspapers would be unwise, and this leads to the subject of magazine advertising, which is much higher grade and more suited to such books of quality. there are many distinctly literary publications, the subscribers to which are always searching for books of a fine type--an interested clientele who will read advertising pages rather thoroughly, and gladly pay good prices for good books. small advertisements--perhaps a page of small advertisements of good books--in a magazine of this class will bring returns, especially if the books have been well reviewed. there are also trade journals, which go to the booksellers, and in these the publisher must announce his new issues well,--describe them thoroughly, and give some idea of what he intends doing in the way of energetic general advertising. the aim of this is to influence booksellers to increase their orders. these few paragraphs only scratch the surface of a broad subject of extreme interest. each publishing firm has developed through its experience its own principles of the psychology of public opinion, its own idea of the qualities a book should possess, and its own way of getting at the people. results are frequently so surprising that one is inclined to class publishing among the games of chance. it is certain that everybody cannot make a success at it, and there is no doubt that it requires a definite endowment of genius. there falls to the publicity department the writing of a great many letters,--numbers are in answer to questions concerning books and authors, but by far the larger number are in the nature of circulars. the personal typewritten letter or the printed typewritten letter that masquerades as such, has a power equal to a hundred circulars. it claims attention at once, if it does not declare itself an advertisement on the outside, where a printed circular gets swept into the waste-paper basket unread. it's expensive--about three cents a letter if done properly, but when there are special ends to be accomplished, such as calling the attention of the clergy to a novel that would suggest sermons, or the members of an audubon society to a book on birds, it is the surest and most profitable method. it is especially in a mail order or subscription book concern that the circular letter is of most use. the expensive sets of such concerns, and the large profit figured on them, justify such a costly method of publicity. it is generally made more expensive by the enclosure in the envelope of return postal cards and other printed material. this subscription business is a business by itself and conducted quite differently from average publishing. the advertising is lavish, and the underlying principle of it is, that the prospective purchaser wishes a complete description of the wares. attractive premium, and short-time low-price offers are always made, and the endeavor is to get the prospective customer to permit the set of volumes to be sent on inspection, reliance being held in the ability to make him keep them through the real quality of the books, assisted by a series of "follow up" letters enlarging upon the virtues of the set. lists of names are circularized, and "follow up" letters used here also to bring orders. an important form of publicity is that which has grown up as a result of the interest shown by readers, especially in america, in the personality of authors and the desire to know what is happening in the world of books. this very natural and legitimate curiosity affords the publisher a chance to push his products forward in an unobtrusive way. because it is to all appearances unbiased, it wields quite a deal of influence, especially in building up the reputation of an author. every paper that pretends to any literary standing prints regularly or occasionally a column of literary chat, in which is given brief news of authors and books. there will perhaps be a humorous anecdote of the author of a prominent novel, a brief summary of a book shortly to be issued, some comment by a well-known person on a well-known book, a biographical sketch of a new author, a telling extract from a book of serious value, a note that "the return from davy jones" is in its _n_th edition--all of it really news and of interest. some newspapers write their own chat, but the majority print, with small alteration, such as is furnished by the publicity departments of publishing houses, which send out weekly or monthly printed or typewritten sheets of such brief items. in this way donan coyle as the author of "the return from davy jones" is kept before the public. the public also has a legitimate desire to know something of the appearance of the author of a popular novel or important books of essays, and the newspaper reviewer frequently wishes to print a portrait with his review. here the publicity department steps in and helps him, by furnishing suitable electrotype portraits upon request, and not infrequently, by sending out proofs with interesting notes, suggests the use of the portrait. the relation between a literary editor who wants to print the book news and a manager of publicity is a mutually beneficial one. if they coöperate thus, they can be of great assistance to each other, and in the exchange each one gets value received. by a thousand little methods and devices the person in charge of publicity can furnish desired information and get this undersurface publicity, and by putting out _bona-fide_ news and really good stories about them, bring even his lesser light authors into prominence. in this field, as in all others, the well-known authors advertise themselves and set up a demand for publicity. the financial end of publicity is full of complexities. the question of how much an expenditure per volume is warranted is one that cannot be answered generally. there are many limiting and defining considerations. first of all, the book itself. if it is the kind to be a "big seller," a risk can possibly be taken on a larger advertising investment than would be warranted in the case of a good book of finer quality and limited appeal. certain books of coarser, more obvious qualities have a large public if it can be reached. in such cases an exceptional effort will bring exceptional returns. by the risk of a large advertising outlay the firm may get big profits; while a flat failure, because the large, non-book-buying public had not been reached through newspaper and lavish poster advertising methods, might result if only a few hundreds were spent. judgment of the finest kind is required here, and it cannot always decide rightly. how much to spend depends essentially upon the book, and there is no hard and fast rule. books have been known to reach their public and reach good sales at an advertising outlay of about one cent per copy. others have had fifty cents per copy sold spent upon them, and fallen flat. the publishing business is not one in which there are great profits, and the margin between the cost of manufacturing and the wholesale price is small. this small amount must furnish the author's royalty, the advertising appropriation, the publisher's cost of doing business, and his profit. it can be seen then that the amount of royalty paid on a book in a certain degree rules the amount of advertising that can be done,--the publisher and author are, in a measure, partners, and if the author demands a large royalty, he thereby cuts down the amount the publisher can afford to expend in advertising his book. the larger the appropriation for advertising, the larger the chance for increased sales. it is difficult to make any generalization on the amount that should be devoted to publicity. taking the $ . novel as a standard, it might be said that figuring in all kinds of publicity--newspaper, magazine, circular, literary notices, etc.--from ten to twelve per cent of the wholesale price on the first edition of , would be a liberal allowance. on more expensive volumes, handled as subscription books, a much larger proportion would be the rule. on new books other than fiction, where the sale could not be expected to reach more than a few thousand, there would be no business justification in spending so much. such books have more or less to make their own way. publicity is an essential part of the publishing business, and the breadth of its field, as well as the proper way to apply its influence, is beginning to be more correctly understood. fortunately, for all concerned, the author as well as the publisher and the book-buying public, it is a power that can work only for good, and in a good cause. it hastens the fame and the sales of a really good book, but its power with a bad book is very small indeed. one fact has developed from the thousands of book advertising campaigns, and it is this--that you cannot force a really worthless book down the throat of the american reading public however much money you put into advertising. you may create a big sale for a very light and frothy story, with little to recommend it from the literary critic's point of view, but you can be sure, if it succeeds, your novel has certain positive, if rather superficial virtues, either in the story, in the local color, or in the method of telling. and when one contemplates the huge success of mrs. humphry ward's and edith wharton's distinguished novels, one is obliged to accept the comforting conviction that the reading public of this country knows a good book when it sees it. reviewing and criticising by walter littlefield. about , volumes are annually published in germany, france, italy, great britain, and the united states. germany heads the list, with something less than , , and the united states ends it, with between five and six thousand titles, although it should be added that continental figures refer to all material bearing an imprint published for circulation whether pamphlet or book. aside from purely scientific and specialistic publications those intended for public perusal of all grades of literacy and intelligence may be classified as history, biography, travel, _belles-lettres_ (including art, criticism, and poetry), and fiction. it is the work of the literary critic to write about these books in such a manner that neither the author nor the public may suffer injustice by their purchase or non-purchase. the critic must explain their purpose, point out their merits and imperfections, and compare their features with the features of other books on the same subject. in short, he should tell the public whether to read the book or not. he should do so in an entertaining manner. now the way this end is achieved in america often excites the derision of the literary foreigner; for although most american reviews are readable enough, they often lack the critical emphasis and literary scope and color so conspicuous in the literary criticism of the british and continental reviews. but the foreigner overlooks the fact that american reviewers usually have something to say about every publication which claims to appeal to a reading public, and that many of these would be absolutely ignored by foreign critics, who are possibly right--when we consider their readers--in selecting only what they deem worthy of their knowledge and critical acumen. the foreign man-of-letters' idea of what should constitute the functions of the critic i find most admirably laid down in mr. arthur symons's introduction to a new edition of coleridge's "biographia literaria" in everyman's library. mr. symons writes:-- the aim of criticism is to distinguish what is essential in the work of a writer; and in order to do this, its first business must be to find out where he is different from all other writers. it is the delight of the critic to praise; but praise is scarcely a part of his duty. he may often seem to find himself obliged to condemn; yet condemnation is hardly a necessary part of his office. what we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves: trace what in us is a whim or leaning to its remote home or centre of gravity, and explain why we are affected in this way or that way by this or that writer. he studies origins in effects, and must know himself, and be able to allow for his own mental and emotional variations, if he is to do more than give us the records of his likes and dislikes. he must have the passion of the lover, and be enamored of every form of beauty; and, like the lover, not of all equally, but with a general allowance of those least to his liking. he will do well to be not without a touch of intolerance: that intolerance which, in the lover of the best, is an act of justice against the second-rate. the second-rate may perhaps have some reason for existence: that is doubtful; but the danger of the second-rate, if it is accepted "on its own merits," as people say, is that it may come to be taken for the thing it resembles, as a wavering image in water resembles the rock which it reflects. obviously, here in america we have a sympathetic tolerance for the "second-rate." but such tolerance is not without its excuse. the fault of the uncritical element in many of the book notices which appear in american newspapers and magazines lies to a large extent at the door of the author who gives us material which humiliates and silences criticism, although a certain expository attention must be given for the very fact that the book invariably has a public awaiting it. for such gratuitous attention the author should be grateful. at least his public is not misled. literary criticism is a distinct department of literature, with its functions and limits as clearly defined as are those of any of the creative departments,--history, biography, fiction. it presupposes on the part of the writer the possession of a knowledge of permanent literature, of the rules of literary construction, of trained taste in selecting models, and of a quick imagination capable of perceiving pertinent comparisons and setting forth vivid impressions. writers like lessing, victor cousin, matthew arnold, and jules lemaître have exercised in criticism a system which is quite as capable of exposition and analysis as that of the historian, the poet, or the novelist. in america this system has also done its best, without entirely prostituting its art, to meet the exigencies and claims of pseudo-literary production and its sympathetic, impressionable public. until within quite recent years there were only two acknowledged schools of criticism: the scientific and the classical. the former gauged the work to be criticised by rule and measure; the latter compared it with models which had long been established as criterions of good taste. then came the impressionistic school, in which the critic, while not unmindful of accepted and approved rules of construction and expression or of classical paradigms, allowed the author more license, more individuality, and permitted himself the same freedom in noting a thing good, bad, or indifferent, because it so appealed to his personal taste at the time of perusal and quite independent of what had gone before. this impressionistic criticism is essentially a personal view, and without it very few current books could be considered critically at all. now of the odd books annually brought out in the united states there are possibly not more than , including half a dozen novels, which are worthy subjects for the professional critic. if this be deemed an exaggeration, one has only to look over the publishers' list of twenty-five years ago and see how many books then published are read to-day. why, then, do the receive any attention? books, like every other commercial commodity, whether presented under the guise of art or science, have their production regulated by the law of supply and demand. the ability to read print in the united states is pretty general, and this ability is diffused among all sorts and conditions of people of vastly varied ideas as to what may give instruction, satisfaction, or pleasure in the form of books. we know that a large majority of the people who read do not read what is considered the best. the enormous circulation of the "yellow press," the low literary value of books of rapidly succeeding phenomenal editions, prove this. criticism, except in acknowledged "literary" reviews, has been obliged to take into account the mental limitations and tastes of the readers of the books, and so it fixes its standard of popular exposition and elucidation at a little above the average taste, and does its best to explain according to the author's own lights what to criticise would be remorselessly to condemn. but do all the one hundred worthy and elect books receive correct treatment according to the tenets of criticism? it may be asked. probably not at every hand and in all cases. and here may be introduced another cause of the lack of proficient literary criticism noticed by the literary foreigner in american magazines, and especially in those pages of the daily and weekly press devoted to books. the discussion of books which once occupied several pages in american monthly magazines is now principally confined to the books issued by the publishing house which also publishes the magazine. what has come to be known as the "news value" of books cannot suffer a review of a novel by a prominent author or of a book on a current political or sociological topic to appear a month or two or three after the publication of the book itself. the eagerness of the public can hardly wait for an elaborate review in the press. thus the newspapers rival one another in setting before their readers the first "news" of the book. it is usually impossible to expect "criticism" in such active circumstances. the public neither expects nor desires it. this leads to expositions in which are incorporated generous citations from the book, and from this the public is invited to form its own opinion. when such an exposition is properly done, a reader can tell whether he wishes to peruse the book as a whole. in late years this system of exposition has been growing in popularity,--a popularity no doubt augmented by the reader's increasing desire to be his own critic,--so now only the more important historical, biographical, and travellers' books receive expert criticism. why wait months to get expert opinion on a popular book on russia, ibsen, or a journey in search of one of the poles, while the public is impatient to find out simply whether the book is entertaining? and again, how expert is expert opinion? i know of one famous biography of a famous man which, having been accepted as "the" authority for five years, finally had its pretensions demolished, its citations proved a mass of forgeries, by one tireless and persevering critic who would not accept the "expert" opinion which lauded it to the skies shortly after its publication. now that criticism, or rather the lack of it, has been explained, it may be of some interest to learn how the vast number of books which is annually put forth is handled by the editors of literary reviews and the "book pages" of the daily press. having for nearly ten years been connected with the literary supplement of a new york daily which prides itself on ignoring nothing which is published with the idea of being read, my experiences for observation have been somewhat unusual. the increase in the number of books, and the eagerness of the public to learn about them at the earliest possible moment, have caused the daily press to usurp some of the functions formerly enjoyed by the monthly reviews. the latter do little more than mention the vast majority of publications and confine more and more their critical talents to what they consider conspicuous and distinctive literary productions. purely literary periodicals have come and gone and left few mourners. the pages of the bookman, for example, are no longer confined to literary criticism, to essays on bookish topics, to gossip of author and publisher. there are four distinct publishing periods in the book world. the early spring season, principally confined to those books which could not be made ready to meet the recent holiday season, and to routine books,--books which on account of copyright exigencies have to be published then, books which for prestige the publisher would have bear his imprint, etc. then comes the late spring season, which is principally confined to novels of the lighter sort and to books for supplementary school reading for the coming autumn. toward the end of august the first holiday books usually make their appearance. they increase in number until the end of september, when there is a lull. from the middle of october until the end of november there is a perfect outpour of books. the months of november and december until christmas day are the busiest times in the year for the reviewer. as the books come in they are carefully looked over by the one who is known as the "critic" of the review or paper. he has men and women on his lists whose pens he has tried before--they may be lawyers, college professors, sportsmen, society men, professional novel readers, etc. he considers the author of the book at hand, its seeming importance, etc., and despatches it to a critic. an expert writer of expositions is usually ready to relieve him of volumes upon which for some reason he does not feel justified in requesting expert opinion. occasionally he makes a mistake by giving out for exposition a really important book. the expert who has been impatiently waiting for the volume points out the error. the work of a well-known novelist is usually sent to a critic who is familiar with former tales by the same author. juveniles are handed over to one of proved sympathy with stories for boys and girls--one who is conservative yet quick to catch a new element. books that are essentially for gifts are disposed of in a similar manner--to one who has proved his or her ability to set forth artistic features in books. new editions of classics are turned over to writers who are acquainted with the mechanical make-up of a book, so that the reader may learn whether the new edition of the favorite author is well bound, printed, and appropriately decorated and illustrated. and among the hundreds of "brief notices," expositions, impressions, descriptions, and long and short essays that are handed in, there are invariably some pieces of valuable comment which are well in keeping with the traditions of professional criticism. the critic usually returns the book with his article. these books are ultimately collected and disposed of in various ways. they may be sold at auction to members of the staff, which is an effective way of getting rid of them just before christmas. is there any likelihood of an improvement in literary criticism--any chance of a return by the daily press to what the reviews of the past gave and those of england and the continent still give? the standard of criticism is determined by two forces: the quality of books and the taste of would-be purchasers. if every book were really "criticised," the criticisms of many would be utterly incomprehensible to many of their possible readers. the public gets the books it desires; the books receive the attention they deserve. when the standard of reading shall be raised, so that the public shall demand better books, it will be found that more books will receive "serious" attention. as it is at present, the public does not desire much elaborate, fine criticism. it, together with its favorite authors, would be sorely dissatisfied if it got more. it may be added that, in my humble opinion, the function of a critic as an arbiter of literary taste is measurably overestimated. of course, a man who has won distinction as a judge of books and who signs his articles may have some influence. but it seems to me that the function of the anonymous reviewer should begin and end by explaining the book and let the public be its own critic. it will certainly be in the end. for no critic ever killed a good book; none ever praised an unworthy volume into success and fame. the travelling salesman by harry a. thompson. the increase in the visible supply of authors more than meets the demand. a manuscript once accepted, the publisher finds no lack of paper makers ready to supply him with any grade of fair white paper that he may wish to spoil. printers even manifest a dignified alacrity to set the type and print the book, and binders are yet to be accused of any disinclination to cover it. it is only when author, paper maker, printer, and binder have done with their share in the exploitation of literature that the publisher finds that the current which had been urging him gently onward has set against him. of making many books there is no end, but the profitable marketing of the same is vanity and vexation of spirit. enter the salesman. he is to convince the bookseller, who is to convince the public, that this particular book--shall we, for our purpose, christen it "last year's nests"?--is the great american novel (whatever that means), and that its influence on the reading of unborn generations will be measured by the rank it holds in the list of the six best sellers. the salesman is handicapped not a little by the fact that it is neither shoes, nor pig-iron, nor even mess-pork that he is selling, and, therefore, superior quality of workmanship, inferior price, and personal magnetism count for little. persuasiveness, which, perhaps, is a part of personal magnetism, counts; so does an intelligent knowledge of the contents of the book; likewise hard work and tactful persistence; also, honesty. but opposed against the combination is the bookseller, on guard against overstocking, to some extent a purchaser of a pig in a poke, conscious that one unsold book eats up the profit on five copies safely disposed of. time was when good salesmanship consisted in overstocking a bookseller; this was occasioned less by persuasiveness than by overpersuasiveness. regardless of the merits of the book and with no more than a nodding acquaintance with its contents, a persuasive salesman could "load" a customer--as he called it out of the customer's hearing--with two hundred and fifty copies of a novel that had no other merit than that it had been written by a novelist whose previous book had met with success. the significance of these figures, two hundred and fifty, is to be found in the maximum discount to retailers of forty and ten per cent on that quantity. latterly, the publisher has found that a bankrupt bookseller has few creditors besides publishers, and has come to a realizing sense of the futility of clogging the distributing machinery. he is disposed, therefore, to exercise some restraint upon his salesman's ardor. perhaps it were better to say that the salesman, grown wiser, is more disposed to aid the bookseller in his purchases to the end that no monuments of unsold failures will stare him in the face on his next visit to the customer's store. yet even to this day, such restraint is tempered by a certain amount of moderation. all of which, while interesting to the historian of the publishing trade, carries us too far in advance of our text. let us therefore return to "last year's nests"-- mo, cloth, illustrated, gilt top, uncut edges, price $ . . the first edition--it may be one thousand copies or ten thousand--has been delivered to the publisher by the beaming binder, who alone, in some instances, knows his profit on them. "last year's nests" is by a well-known author, and contains some elements of popularity. the literary adviser has written a beautiful and scholarly appreciation of it, one of the lady stenographers has declared it grand, and the salesman, if he is given to reading anything beyond the title-page, says it's a corker. he starts out with it; along with a trunkful of other books, to be sure, but our sympathies are wholly with the "nests," and it is only its career that we shall follow. he may be one of a force of salesmen, each of whom has his own territory. one may visit only the larger cities, boston, new york, philadelphia, pittsburg, chicago; another may take in the smaller towns along this route; another, the middle west, southern or southwestern territory. still another, the cities west of chicago, including those on the pacific coast. houses publishing competitive lines and non-copyright books have other methods and machinery for distribution. i speak only for the copyright salesman, and not to be too prolix, take only the copyright novel as an illustration of the day's work. the salesman arrives at a town, say chicago. he goes to the hotel, orders his trunks and sample tables sent to his room. the tables are set up--well-worn pine boards on trestles and covered with sheeting. he unpacks his trunk and arranges his books on the tables as effectively as his artistic sense permits. then he visits his customers and makes appointments that cover a full week. previous to his arrival his office had informed the booksellers of his coming, inclosing a catalogue. this the bookseller handed to a clerk to be marked up. the clerk had gone over their stock of this particular publisher's books and had marked opposite each title in the catalogue the number of copies on hand. armed with this catalogue the bookseller keeps his appointment at the room of the traveller. [it ought to be mentioned in passing that this is a purely hypothetical case, invented for the purposes of illustration. the clerk who marks up the catalogue in advance of the salesman's arrival is as fictitious as the bookseller who keeps his appointment promptly. perhaps this delightful uncertainty is another of the many influences that make the book business, from the writing of the manuscript to the reading of the printed book, so fascinating.] in the salesman's room the customer examines the new books, asks questions, hears arguments (many of them fearfully and wonderfully made), and eventually, after much debate, gives his order. having ordered all the new books that he wishes, he goes over the catalogue and gives what is called his stock order; that is to say, he orders the books on which his stock is low but for which there is still a demand. perhaps the salesman has reserved for his final battle the sale of "last year's nests." as prices cut some figure in this argument, we are driven, for a moment, to the dry bones of prices and discounts. listed in the publisher's catalogue at $ . , the ordinary discount to a dealer ordering two or three copies is thirty-three and one-third per cent, or $ . net, the bookseller paying transportation charges. competition, however, has increased this discount to forty per cent, so that we shall assume that in small quantities the book can be had at $. net. in larger quantities extra discounts are given; some publishers give forty and five per cent on fifty copies and forty and ten per cent on one hundred copies; others increase the quantities to one hundred and two hundred and fifty copies respectively for the extra discounts. but, as has been pointed out, the growing tendency is not to overload the bookseller, especially in view of the fact that it is the publisher who loses when the bookseller assigns. assuming that the "last year's nests" is likely to have a large sale and that the salesman wishes to sell mr. bookseller two hundred and fifty copies, he quotes the extra discount of forty and ten per cent on that quantity. if he can persuade the bookseller to take two hundred and fifty copies, he has not only swollen his sales by that amount, but he has forced a probable retail sale of that quantity. for once on the bookseller's tables, the very size of the order inspires every clerk to help reduce the pile, not to mention the fact that the books are bought and must be paid for. had the bookseller bought five copies, extra efforts toward sales would not be forthcoming; the energy would be applied to another novel. hence the salesman's efforts to effect a large sale. there is another reason for this extra quantity. two hundred and fifty copies of "last year's nests," piled in a pyramid, is a gentle reminder to the bookseller's customers that it is a mighty important book. such an argument is often more potent than the disagreeing opinions of critics. here is a case in point. a novelist wrote an altogether charming and spirited novel. the reviewers spoke well of it, but the sale of the book hung fire. it was the dull season,--may or june,--and there was no other novel of any worth in the public mind. the salesman said to his employer: "here's a book that has a good chance for success. if you'll back me with some good advertising, i'll guarantee to make that novel sell." the publisher replied: "go ahead, my son; i'll take a gamble on it." (they really talk that way when they travel mufti.) so the salesman induced the new york wholesalers to erect a pyramid of a thousand copies in their respective stores, guaranteeing to take back the books if they were not sold. this was done for the purpose of impressing the buyers for country stores who were flocking into new york for their fall purchases. next the retail booksellers were asked to take, on the same terms, from one hundred to two hundred and fifty copies and pile them conspicuously in their stores. as trade was dull and there was no one big seller clamoring for public recognition at the time, the dealers were willing to assist in the work of encouraging good literature. then an advertising campaign was planned. critics there were a-plenty who wagged a sad head because the advertising was undignified. what they meant was that it was unconventional, was without the dignity of tradition to give it its hallmark. it had, at least, the novelty of originality, and answered the final test of good advertising in that it attracted attention. then the sale began, and as soon as new york city was reporting it among the list of the six best sellers, the salesman took to the road to carry on the campaign. the result was eventually a sale reaching six figures. but to get back to "last year's nests." it is to be published june . a few sample pages only have been printed, but blank paper fills out to the bulk of the book as it will be. illustrations--if they are ready--are inserted, the title-page printed, and the whole is bound up in a sample cover. this is technically known as a dummy, and serves to show the prospective buyer merely the outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual appeal to public favor. for the purpose of informing the bookseller it is worth but little more than the printed title or a catalogue announcement. for all $ . novels look alike, are printed on pretty much the same kind of paper, and bear covers differing more in degree than kind. yet the bookseller likes to handle something tangible when he is making up his order, and the salesman, with even a dummy in his hand, finds that there is less wear and tear upon his imagination. were he selling shoes, the salesman would, as a matter of course, point out the superior quality of the goods, lay stress on their style and durability, and as a clincher, present the incontrovertible argument of low price. on no such brief can the book salesman rest his case. "last year's nests" varies in no respect mechanically from any of its mo competitors; and if it did, it would make no difference. "look at the design of the cover, see how durable it is," argues the salesman. "what a charming title-page, and note the classic proportion of the printed page to the margin," he continues. the startled customer, listening to such an argument, would be inclined to humor the salesman until he could safely get him into the hands of an alienist. two arguments and two only comprise the salesman's stock in trade; if he can say that "last year's nests" is by the well-known author whose name is a household word and whose previous book sold so many thousand copies, he has the bookseller on the mourner's bench; if he can (and he frequently does) add the clinching argument that his firm will advertise the book heavily, he can leave the bookseller with that thrill of triumph we all feel when we bend another's will to our own. a young and inexperienced salesman, whom we shall call mr. green, was making his western trip. as he was waiting in a bookseller's store for his customer's attention, there entered a traveller of ripe years and experience, representing one of the larger publishing firms. naturally the bookseller gave the older salesman his instant attention. with no desire to eavesdrop, mr. green could not avoid overhearing the conversation. "hello, blank! anything new?" "yes, i have a big novel here by a big man. it will have a big sale," and blank mentioned the title and author. at this point, green pricked up his ears. he had read the novel in manuscript form and his immediate thought was, "here's where i learn something about the gentle art of making sales." mr. blank proceeded so tell what he knew about the book. his synopsis was so inaccurate that green knew that he had not read the book, but was glibly misquoting the publisher's announcement. green's courage was fired as he reflected how much better he could have portrayed the chief incidents of the plot. but his triumph was momentary. blank ended his argument in a voice that left no doubt of his own faith in the effectiveness of his logic. "and the firm is going to advertise it like ----." "send me two hundred and fifty copies," said the customer. the longer mr. green travelled the more convinced he became that the old salesman knew his business. the argument of advertising carries with it a certain persuasiveness that the customer cannot resist. not always does a liberal use of printer's ink land a book among the six best sellers; but it does it so often that the rule is proved by the exception. a publisher once made the statement, in the presence of a number of men interested in the book-publishing business, that, by advertising, he could sell twenty thousand copies of any book, no matter how bad it was. the silence of the others indicated assent to the doctrine. but one inquiring mind broke in with the question, "but can you make a profit on it?" "ah! that is another question," answered the publisher. and the ledgers of several publishers will show a loss, due to excessive advertising, on books that loom large in public favor. the author has reaped good royalties and the salesman has had no great draft made upon his stock of persuasive argument. it is under such circumstances that the traveller finds his work easy and his burden light. another condition under which he meets with less resistance is in the instance of a second book by an author whose first book has met with success. the bookseller is a wary, cautious man; what illusions he once had have gone down the corridors of time along with the many books that have not helped him. for reasons that are not so inscrutable as they may seem to the enthusiastic salesman, the bookseller is disinclined to order more than a few copies of a first book by a new author. perhaps the traveller has read the book and is surcharged with enthusiasm; he talks eloquently and ably in the book's behalf; he masses argument upon argument--and in the end makes about as much impression as he would by shooting putty balls at the sphinx. even though the salesman's enthusiasm may find its justification in the reviewer's opinions and the beginning of a brisk sale for the book all over the country, still the reluctant bookseller broods moodily over the past and refuses to be stung again. but let the book have a large sale and then let the salesman start out with a second book by this author: the bookseller, with few exceptions, will go the limit on quantity. unfortunately, it frequently happens that the public--which is a discriminating public or not, as you chance to look at it--does not seem possessed of the same blind confidence, and the result is a monument of unsold copies. the trade, i think, is coming more and more to be guided by the advice of such salesmen as have proved to be the possessors of judgment and honesty. by judgment is meant not merely the opinion that one forms of the literary value of a book, but that commercial estimate that a good salesman is able to make. the literary adviser can state in terms of literary criticism the reasons why the ms. is worthy of publication; but the traveller, if he happens to be more than a mere peddler, can, after reading the ms., take pencil and paper and figure out how many copies he can place. publishers are growing to appreciate this quality in a salesman and are seeking his advice before accepting a ms. some go further and ask his assistance in the make-up of a book; for a good cover covers a multitude of sins. in former years it was considered the salesman's first duty to "load" the customer; that is, sell him all he could, regardless of the merits of the books. in those days a denial of the good old doctrine that the imprint could do no wrong was rank heresy. such salesmen are no longer categorised with cæsar's wife, and the new salesmanship is having its day. its members are men of reading and intelligence, who have taken the trouble to learn something about the wares they are selling, and who have found that it pays to be honest. it doesn't seem to pay the first year; but if the salesman's judgment of books is discriminating and he hangs on, the booksellers soon realize that they can trust him. as they know little of the new books he is offering, they are inclined to be guided by his advice; should they find that this pays, they will repose more confidence in him. a traveller who, in lieu of personal imagination and the power of persuasion, was forced to depend upon hard work and the common, or garden, kind of honesty for what success he had on the road, was giving up his work to take an indoor position. on his final trip he had a "first" book by a "first" author; it was an unusual book and had in it possibilities of a really great sale. the firm publishing the book was in the hands of an assignee. the outlook was not propitious for a large sale: a new book by an unknown author published by an assignee. but the salesman believed in the book, believed in it with judgment and enthusiasm. "i found," he said, in telling the story, "that the trade to a man believed in me. it affected me deeply to feel that my years of straight dealing had not been wasted. the booksellers backed me up, bought all the copies i asked them to buy,--and i asked largely,--with the result that i sold ten thousand copies in advance of publication. the firm has sold since over two hundred thousand copies of that book and its creditors received a hundred cents on the dollar." it would seem an axiom that a man selling books should have at least a bowing acquaintance with their contents, yet i have heard salesmen argue hotly in favor of the old-time salesman who sold books as he would sell shoes or hats. such a one was selling a novel to a boston bookseller. he had not taken the trouble to read the book, but had been told by his firm that it was a good story. flushed with the vehemence of his own argument for a large order, he floundered about among such vague statements as: "you can't go to sleep until you have finished it! it's great! a corking story! can't lay the book down! unable to turn out the light until you have read the last line!" "but what's it about?" quickly interrupted the customer, suspecting that the traveller had not read the book. "it's about--it's about a dollar and a quarter," was the quick retort. perhaps here we find the substitute for the reading that maketh a full man. repartee of this sort is disarming, and the quickness of wit that prompts it is not one of the least useful attributes of salesmanship. to carry the moral a step farther, it is only fair to say that the nimble salesman has had the wit to get out of the publishing business into another line of industry that, if reports are to be believed, has made him independent. the commercial traveller who sells books has no fault to find with the people with whom he deals. by the very nature of his calling the bookseller is a man of reading and culture; now and then among them you find a man of rare culture. so genuinely friendly are the relations existing between seller and purchaser that a travelling man has the feeling that he is making a pleasure trip among friends. such relations are no mean asset to the salesman, although they are not wholly essential. for it is to the bookseller's interest at least to examine the samples of every publisher's representative. it is not a question of laying in the winter's supply of coal, or of being content with one good old standby line of kitchen ranges. it is books that he is dealing in; an article that knows no competition and that has a brief career. should my lady ask for mark twain's last book, it would be a poor bookseller who answered, "we don't sell it, but we have a large pile of marie corelli's latest." or should the customer desire a copy of henry james's recent volume, what would it profit the bookseller to inform her that he did not have it in stock, but he had something just as good? it is because of the immense numbers of titles the bookseller must carry that the salesman always finds him a willing listener. and in the end, even though he does not buy heavily, he must order at least a few each of the salable books. such complacency on the part of the bookseller might argue for direct dealing on the part of the publisher by means of circulars and letters, thus saving the expense of a traveller. but firms that have tried this have had a change of heart and have quickly availed themselves of the traveller's services. he is useful in ways other than selling. if he is keen to advance his firm's interests,--and most of the book travellers are,--he will interest the bookseller's clerks in the principal books of his line. he will send them a copy of an important book, knowing that the clerk, should he become interested in the book, will personally sell many copies. in the matter of credits, the travelling man is of considerable service to his house. he is on the spot, can size up the bookseller's trade, note if he is overstocked, particularly with unsalable books, or "plugs," as they are called, obtain the gossip of the town, and in many ways can form an estimate of the bookseller's financial condition that is more trustworthy than any the credit man in the home office can get. there were a dozen publishers' representatives who once sat in solemn conclave discussing the financial responsibility of an important customer. he was suspected of being beyond his depth, and some of the travellers had been warned not to sell him. several personally inspected his business, obtained a report from him and his bank, and threshed out the matter as solemnly and seriously as if they were the interested publishers whom they represented. it was decided to extend further credit to the bookseller; his orders were taken and sent in with full explanations. how many orders were rejected by the publishers i do not, of course, know. but the judgment of the travellers, as events proved, was justified. the publisher is learning to regard his travelling man as more than a salesman. he is asking him, now and then, to assist him in the selection of a manuscript, to aid him in planning the letter-press, and binding of a book. for by the very nature of his work the traveller is the one man in the publisher's employ who has a comprehensive grasp of the many branches of this alluring, but not very profitable, business. selling at wholesale by joseph e. bray. in the process of manufacture a book passes through so many hands that if the finished product is exactly in accordance with the plan that existed in the mind of its designer, he is justified in looking upon it with the satisfaction felt by an artist who has worked well. after a book is issued, however, it is quite another and equally important a matter to sell it, and this part of book publication requires as much thought and perhaps more dogged persistence than the other. there are some books, such as "ben hur" and "david harum," for instance, that make a market for themselves, and the demand for such successes, though starting perhaps in a rather circumscribed locality, moves onward and outward, gathering force all the time like an avalanche. these are rare exceptions, however, and for most books a market must be created. no matter how good the book, it is not enough to view the finished product with satisfaction and expect that the public will buy it in the proportion that it deserves. it has to be marketed like any other article of commerce; and a book is only on the market properly when you find its selling points known to the trade, and the volume itself temptingly displayed on the counters in the bookstores everywhere, ready to become the property of any one who may be attracted by a reviewer's description, a clever advertisement, the polite recommendation of a well-posted clerk, or any other of the many reasons that induce people to buy books. this condition of course obtains in all large cities on or soon after the day of publication of a well-managed book--but urban publicity is not sufficient. the whole country must be taken care of, and the several thousand booksellers scattered over this great land must be placed in the same relative position as their brethren in the large cities. how they are supplied with the book, posted as to its merits, and enabled to take care of whatever demands arise, is the wholesale, or "jobbing," side of book selling. this class of booksellers relies mostly upon the wholesaler for information and supplies. everyone knows when winston churchill and mrs. humphry ward are writing books, and what they are about; but when a dealer in a small town gets a call for "the sands of time," author unknown, a book he has never heard of before, he usually transmits the order just as he has received it to his jobber, who supplies him with the book if it is on the market, or with the necessary information regarding it if he is not able to supply it. the jobber's work, broadly speaking, is twofold: to see that a book for which the demand is certain to be large and immediate is in the hands of all his customers promptly after publication, and to take care of all inquiries that arise throughout the country for lesser-known books. his establishment must be a very temple of learning, and he has to know everything in the book world, from the plot of the latest "best seller" to the relative importance of a work on the differential calculus. let us take his first duty. a book is to be published by a noted author, and a large sale is confidently expected. it will be widely advertised, and the press will feature it in the review columns. his first move usually is to distribute descriptive notices among his customers, telling them what he knows about it and inviting them to send in their orders. his travellers are also notified and are advised as to how the book is likely to be received by the people, and whether it is accounted better or worse than the author's previous works. the jobber has therefore to size up a book early in the game, without perhaps having seen anything relating to it except the publisher's advance notices. he has to be very careful not to "over-sell" the book, and yet at the same time he must distribute it in sufficient quantities, so that no sales may be lost through dealers not having supplies. orders generally begin to come in quickly, and sometimes the advance sales of popular books are enormous. then comes the question of buying a first supply. the suave, persuasive agent of the publisher waits upon the jobber and tells him what a wonderful work it is, that the demand is without a doubt going to beat all records, and he had "better hurry up and place a large order before the first edition is exhausted," and all that kind of thing. the jobber takes into consideration the facts he has been able to learn concerning the book, and places an order accordingly. then his own travellers are supplied with dummies or advance copies, and the work of arousing an interest in the book in all sections of the country proceeds actively. not only are all the towns canvassed thoroughly, but even the smaller villages are visited or the modest orders solicited by mail, though the stocks of the local booksellers may embrace only a few of the best sellers. it is generally arranged so that the stock of the book of the kind to which we have alluded is delivered to the jobber on or before the day of publication, and he in turn tries to place it in the hands of his customers early, usually on or within a day or two of the date of issue. from maine to california, and from the northern boundary to the gulf, there is no town of importance, and no village where a bookstore exists, that has not copies of, or information concerning, the book within a short time of its coming from the press. after this is done, patience is necessary and a period of comparative inactivity ensues. the book is before the people, and it is necessary to wait for their verdict. there are many ways of "puffing" a book. clever advertising will do much. window displays and all the other arts resorted to by bookseller and publisher sell copies; but unless the people take to it, unless it appeals to them, unless they talk about it, and pass it along, none of these ways will do more than give a book a very temporary period of demand. the wisest publisher sometimes issues books that never reach a second edition. they awaken no responsive echo in the hearts of the people, the stamp of public approval is not put upon them, and although hailed with a flourish of trumpets and a blast of advertising, they die an early death, the author and the publisher perhaps being the only people that regret their demise. in the case of a work that does meet with public approval, this approval is soon shown, and it is not a hard matter to care for the demand. the wholesaler aims to keep a stock on hand sufficiently large to cover all calls upon him, and does what he can to push the good thing along, through his salesmen and the circular literature which he sends out from time to time. there are other classes of books, however, in which the wholesaler must interest himself and which cannot be treated so easily; here perhaps his service to the community and the publishing field are the greatest. only the select few among books are big sellers; the majority do not sell largely, and only a very small percentage of the many thousands of books put forth annually make a stir in the world. a novel by an unknown author, a biography of an eminent man, a modest work of travel or adventure, technical books and those that add to the world's knowledge, cannot be given a wide distribution or an inviting display on the shelves of the trade. the smaller bookseller cannot afford to carry them. his profits are small and his investments in books of this class have to be very carefully considered. his margin of profit is too small for him to take more chances than he has to, and consequently he relies largely upon his jobber, from whom he in most cases picks up these books as he needs them. the wholesaler has to be a bureau of information concerning this part of his business. his mail brings him in all sorts of inquiries for books that have been out of print for years. somebody wants them, can they be obtained by advertising for them or otherwise? the jobber must know this and give the information to his customer promptly. books not yet published. when will they be issued? what will be the cost? an approximate price must be given. what are the best books on certain subjects, and how do they compare with other works in the same field? hundreds of inquiries similar to these are constantly received. sometimes titles are garbled and twisted all out of shape, taken down perhaps by the rural bookseller phonetically and confidently forwarded to the wholesaler, who will certainly know. the right book is usually sent, and not often is the jobber found to be at fault. curiously enough, the majority of people are very careless in regard to titles of books, and many conundrums of this kind are daily solved by the trade. peculiar in many ways is the book trade, and the ordinary laws of commercialism do not always apply to the book business. the book market is fickle to the utmost degree. the books that should sell sometimes do not "move" at all, and those that apparently have but little to recommend them turn out to be the best of the bunch so far as sales are concerned. a jobber has to be something of an optimist; he must keep his ear to the ground, and, like certain types of politicians, must be prepared to give the people what they want when they want it. he can of course help along the demand for good books and check that for poor literature, and, to his credit, he usually does this, but the book-buying public is truly democratic and in the main people are pretty definite in their wants. oftentimes they can be led, but it is rarely that they will consent to be driven. another important part of the jobber's business is the supplying of public libraries and similar institutions. here his knowledge of books and the resources of his establishment are put to the severest test. libraries use a vast quantity of books, and the demand from this source is extremely varied in character. librarians are also very shrewd and careful buyers, and much work in the way of pricing of lists, answering inquiries, etc., is demanded. margins of profit here are very small, but there is practically no loss in the matter of accounts, and a librarian is very satisfactory to deal with, as he usually knows what he wants. the popular novel has been pushed so much to the front of late years and advertised on such a colossal scale, that one not versed in the reading demands of the people might very well think america was reading nothing else. in the orders sent in by public libraries, however, "solid reading" is very largely represented, and, as a matter of fact, that class of literature is making just as great an increase in public demand as the lighter kind. the wholesaler therefore is a useful member of the book world and an important factor in the distribution of books. he must combine the acumen of the business man with a taste for literature for literature's sake, have an enormous capacity for detail but be capable of grasping an opportunity, possess the wisdom of solomon, the patience of job, and the tact of a diplomat. he must be, in short, a business man, a scholar, and a philosopher; and even with all these accomplishments he is not likely to endanger the peace of the community by accumulating an enormous fortune. selling at retail by warren snyder. it is with the finished product of author and publisher that the bookseller has chiefly to do. in the building of a book he does not come into contact with author, artist, compositor, printer, or publisher. if he be in a position to place large orders, his opinion is occasionally sought as to the advisability of bringing out a new edition of some book or books for which there seems to be a demand. a book may have reached an unusually large sale in an ordinary edition; he is asked if he thinks a finer and more expensive edition would be warrantable. he is, however, chary in most cases about expressing an opinion; and he never allows himself to become enthusiastic over any book in the presence of a publisher or a publisher's representative. for he feels that if he should display any eagerness, he would, in a measure, commit himself to placing a large order for that particular book. with books being brought out at the rate they have been for the last five years, the bookseller finds himself with little time or inclination either to read or to think about the things to come. he has enough to occupy his attention in his efforts to display and sell the books he already has on hand. witness the pyramids of volumes towering ceilingward--many of them books that have been there for several moons at least; and which are likely to remain there until many more moons have waxed and waned. i often wonder if the bookseller of fifty years ago ever dreamed of what his successor would have to contend with in the way of new publications. i recall a conversation i had two or three years ago with a man more than seventy years of age. he had started out in his business life as a clerk in a bookstore and he said to me, "there are no booksellers to-day like there were when i was in the book business. then," he continued, "a bookseller was thoroughly posted as to the contents of the books he had for sale; while now they know but little more about a book than its title." i asked him if he ever stopped to compare the conditions under which the bookseller of past days worked with those under which the bookseller of to-day had to labor. i have read that in there were but five hundred new books issued in the united states. in --fifty years later--there were seventy-five hundred new books launched on the market. this did not include some six hundred reprints. when there was an average of less than ten new books published in a week, it was an easy task for an intelligent salesperson to get a fair knowledge of the contents of every one. but when books are ground out at the rate of one hundred and fifty a week,--twenty-five a day,--the task becomes an impossible one. yet i have frequently been asked by seemingly intelligent persons if i did not read a book before purchasing it. and when i have attempted to explain that it would be impossible for me to read all the books issued, they have not hesitated to convey, by word or gesture, their opinion of this obviously reckless way of doing business. not long ago a man came to my office inquiring for the manager. when he was directed to me he said: "i bought a book here a few days ago, and it is imperfect. there are a number of pages missing, while some pages are repeated." then, with a sneer, "i am surprised that a firm like this should sell imperfect books." i assured him that we had no intention of selling an imperfect book; it was an accident that sometimes happened. the wonder to me was that it did not happen oftener. i was sorry if he had been put to any inconvenience; we would cheerfully give him another copy. we could return the imperfect copy to the publishers who would make it right with us. "but don't you examine the books you buy to see if the pages are all there?" i told him how impossible that would be. why, we often added as many as fifty thousand volumes to our stock in a single week. he left me, i am sure, convinced that we were careless in our mode of doing business. once i was called from my office to meet a lady who also had a grievance. she accosted me with the air of one who had been basely swindled. "i bought a book here yesterday," she said, "one you advertised as cheap. i wish to return it and get my money back. my husband says it is no wonder that you can sell books so cheap; this one is not half finished. look at the rough edges; the leaves are not even cut." of course i had the price of the book returned to her at once. then i proceeded to show her some of the expensive and finely bound volumes with rough edges. i explained how the value of many of these books would be lessened if the leaves were trimmed. i tried to give her the point of view of the book collector. she was incredulous. i think, however, that she went away a wiser, if not a happier woman; and she has probably blushed many times since when recalling the incident. the buyer of books for a large store does not go out to look for new publications. he remains in his office, and the publisher sends a representative to see him in regard to each new book issued. in new york city he is called upon on an average of once a week by some one from each publishing house. at certain seasons of the year these "commercial travellers," as they prefer to be titled, seem to drift in ten or a dozen at a time. they will often be found waiting in line outside the buyer's office, each taking his turn. each will have from two to ten new books, all to be ready within the next two weeks. i have said that the bookseller of to-day has but little time to read about the volumes that are forthcoming. therefore, most of the new books are first brought to his attention by the salesmen who come to solicit orders. every book must be given some consideration; and in most cases some quantity of it must be ordered. it may be five copies or it may be five thousand. to the inexperienced it is difficult to explain the precise considerations that govern the amount of the order. here is where the strain comes on the buyer; for the responsibility lies with him. yet he must decide without having read a single page; and he must decide quickly--in a few minutes. many times he places an order without having seen the completed book at all. some pages of the text, a half-dozen illustrations, and the outside cover are perhaps presented to him. even the fact that the publisher has had the manuscript read by three or four experts before deciding to publish, does not always help him. there are many miscalculations on the part of both buyer and publisher. but, you insist, how does a buyer form a judgment of the number of copies to buy if he does not read the book? there are many things to guide him. there is the popularity of the author to be considered; the subject of the book; the mechanical features; the price; and the publisher's name and standing. if it is an author's first book the risk is great. if both the author and publisher are new the risk is still greater. for the amount of advertising that such a publisher is likely to do is an unknown quantity. the buyer can estimate pretty closely on the advertising probabilities of well-established firms; he knows what they are accustomed to do in that line. in the reminiscences of a bookseller who began business more than seventy years ago, there is a letter from his mother written in , from which the following is an excerpt:-- "i will ask you once more to consider my plea regarding the policy and character of some portion of your business. the selecting of books for a reading community is a peculiar responsibility; and if the matter therein contained be good in its wholesale and retail consequences it will rise up for you, if bad, against you, even here in this partly christianized america." but the bookman no longer has the opportunity of selecting for a community. the conditions are changed. in these days of extended advertising in newspapers and magazines, the reading public learns all about the new books before going near a bookstore. the demand is created outside the shop; the dealer must be prepared to supply it. customers tell him not only what to keep on sale, but what not to keep on sale. the writer of the present article has been admonished not to have in stock the writings of many of the great authors--darwin, huxley, tyndall, herbert spencer, miss braddon, george eliot, mrs. humphry ward, balzac, byron, and many others. a letter received about fifteen years ago read something like this:-- "i was much surprised yesterday, while passing through your bookstore, to find a number of immoral books there for sale. i copied down the names of a few of them--'an earnest trifler' and 'a desperate chance.'" there were four others the titles of which i do not recall; but the two mentioned made an impression on my mind, because i had read the first one only a short time before; and knew it to be a perfectly pure story. the second one happened to have been written by an acquaintance of mine, j. d. jerrold kelly, now a commander in the united states navy. if he ever reads this article he will probably be informed for the first time that he is accused of having written an immoral story. the funny part of the incident was that the letter in question closed with the following: "i will admit that i have not read any of these books. i would not soil my mind by reading them; but i think the titles are quite sufficient to lead many a weak-minded person astray." i leave the reader to draw his own conclusions. i said that the bookseller does not necessarily come into contact with author or publisher in the building of a book. he is, however, frequently called upon by authors of the class that might be termed unsuccessful. these want his help. one came to me with a proposition that i take five thousand copies of a book he had written. "it's a wonderful book," he said. "nothing like it has been written; and it's bound to make a great stir. it will revolutionize society completely. all it needs is for you to 'push' the sale." when i asked to see the book, he said it was not published yet. "i am looking for a publisher; and will let you see a copy as soon as it is ready. but," he added, "if you would give me your order now it would be a great help in securing a publisher." it is scarcely necessary for me to add that i did not feel called upon to help him to the extent of ordering five thousand copies of the book without seeing it, even if society had to remain unrevolutionized for a while longer. i never saw the author again; nor have i heard of the book. now many books must have been written for which no publisher could be found! the pity is that so many have found publishers--a statement with which i feel sure publishers and booksellers alike will agree. a year or two ago i was asked by a friend to give some advice to a lady who had written a book. she did not take my advice, however, when i gave it--i hardly expected that she would. in fact, she went directly contrary to it, and practically published the book herself. later she came to me with the proposition that i take her book and "push" it as the century dictionary and encyclopedia was being pushed; she was sure it would have a large sale, if only i would advertise it in the same way that these other books were being advertised--full pages in the daily papers. the retail price of her book was, i believe, one dollar. these are but two instances; i could mention many more equally ridiculous. how that word "push" does grate on my ears! it will put me in a bad humor about as quickly as anything i can recall. my first experience in the book business was on nassau street, then one of the great book streets of new york city, if not the greatest. one morning shortly after the store opened an elderly couple from the country came in--the man evidently interested in books; but the woman not at all. while he was looking over the counters she remained well in the centre of the main aisle, a short distance behind him. presently he came to a counter on which there was a placard: "books fifty cents each." by some mistake an expensive volume had been laid with these second-hand books. the man picked it up and began leafing it over. then turning to the woman he said, "that's cheap at fifty cents." "what's it good for?" was her query. "i wouldn't spend fifty cents for it." then i heard him say, "that's worth more than fifty cents. if that's the price i'll buy it." "young man, what's the price of this book?" this last to me. i told him, "nine dollars." the look he gave the woman was not unkindly, but it spoke volumes. he knew a thing or two about books; he was thoroughly conscious of his superiority over her, when it came to their value. during the last thirty years a magnificent work has been done in suppressing and destroying the filthy literature that was almost openly sold in the streets of many of our largest cities. too much credit cannot be given the society that took the matter in hand. i believe that nearly every dealer to-day aims to keep his stock free from demoralizing books; but in the nature of things the line of demarcation cannot be drawn with entire satisfaction to all. about twenty years ago an itinerant dealer was arrested in a new jersey town for selling a certain book. i was present at the trial, which was somewhat farcical. the defendant had gathered together a large number of catalogues to show that the book had been sold by the most reputable dealers in the country; and that it was included in the catalogues of most of the public libraries. but the judge would not allow this as evidence. he took the stand that the whole question rested upon the book itself. it did not matter what the rest of the world thought of the book; they were there to judge whether or not it was immoral. (the penalty for selling an immoral book in new jersey was, i think, at least one year's imprisonment.) the jury was composed of twelve yokels, eleven of them had never heard of the book, the twelfth said he had read it about twenty years earlier. as the whole thing hinged on the opinion of the jury as to its character, copies were supplied by the defendant, and the jury was sent into another room to read the book. after an hour or so they returned. all agreed that the story was not immoral, and the case was dismissed. it would be a pleasure for me to write of the many distinguished persons with whom i have become acquainted during my career as a bookseller and buyer. but were i once to begin on the subject i fear my readers would believe me lacking in "terminal facilities." i should regret, however, to have to close this article without mention of the many delightful friendships i have formed with authors, customers, and publishers. and i may add, with the men who sell to me--whom, almost to a man, i have found thoroughly conscientious. these are pleasant features that go a long way toward compensating one for being in a business, the profits of which, at the best, are small as compared with those of other lines of trade. selling by subscription by charles s. olcott. the business of selling books may be divided, in a general way, into two divisions, one seeking to bring the people to the books, the other aiming to take the books to the people. the first operates through the retail book stores, news-stands, department stores, and the like. the other employs agents, or advertises in the newspapers or magazines, to secure orders or "subscriptions," on receipt of which the books are delivered. the latter method of selling has become known as the "subscription-book" business. the agent usually calls at the office or home of his prospective customer and shows samples of the text pages, illustrations, bindings, etc., bound together in a form known as a "prospectus." sometimes he exhibits a number of different prospectuses. the customer signs an order blank, which the agent turns over to the publisher, who makes the delivery and collects the money. to cover the entire country, the large publisher establishes branch offices in many different cities or sells his books to so-called "general agents," who secure their own canvassers. it may be asked, why does such a method exist? do not people know enough to go to the book stores and ask for what they want? and why go to a man and urge him to buy a book he does not want? the answer goes deep into human nature. people have to be urged to take very many things which they know they ought to have. the small boy knows he ought to go to school, but has to be coaxed. parents know he ought to go, but compulsory education laws have been found necessary in many states. the churches are good, but people sometimes need urging even to go there. life insurance, honestly conducted, is one of the greatest blessings a man can buy with money, but the principal expenditures of the great companies are the vast sums spent in pleading with the people to take advantage of it. experience has proved this to be true of books. men and women must be employed to show the people their value. the latest novel, if popular and well advertised, will sell fairly well in the retail store, but an encyclopædia, or any extensive set of books, must be taken directly to the people and explained by competent salesmen if the publishers hope to pay the cost of the plates within a lifetime. this is strikingly illustrated in the case of the "encyclopædia britannica." the sales in england of the original ninth edition were less than ten thousand sets. in america, where subscription methods were adopted from the first, and in england, after some enterprising american subscription-book men took it in hand, the sales may be fairly estimated at something like one hundred and fifty thousand sets. twenty or thirty years ago, by far the most common form of subscription book was the variety labelled "manual of business," or the "complete farm cyclopedia," or the "road to heaven." the publisher did not advertise for customers but for agents. the books were sold directly to the agent, and he in turn delivered them to his customers and collected the money. anybody out of employment could take up the business. the aim was to get as many agents as possible and sell them the books. the agent canvassed with a "prospectus" after committing to memory his little story. the subscribers signed their names in the back of the prospectus. sometimes the young and inexperienced agent ordered as many copies as he had signatures or more. woe unto him if he did, for oftentimes they would not "deliver." many years ago i remember calling at a modest little home in the middle west. while waiting in the parlor, i noticed how peculiarly it was furnished. every corner of the little square room contained a monument of symmetrical design, all different, but each some three or four feet high, and all built of books, as a child might build a fairy castle out of his wooden blocks. a closer inspection showed that all the volumes were copies of the same book bound in "half morocco"! the explanation came later when i was incidentally informed that "willie had tried canvassing, but most of 'em backed out." this reminds one of the remark of thoreau when, four years after the publication of his first book (at the author's expense), the publisher compelled him to remove unsold copies out of the edition of , and he had them all carted to his home. "i now have," he said, "a library of nearly volumes, over of which i wrote myself." it is an interesting fact in this connection that the successors of that publisher are to-day, fifty years later, successfully selling by subscription an edition of thoreau's writings in volumes, the set in the cheapest style of binding costing $ . among the famous books sold by this method have been blaine's "twenty years in congress," stanley's "in darkest africa," and grant's "memoirs." the handsome fortune which the publishers of the latter were enabled to pay to mrs. grant was made possible only by the application of the subscription method of reaching the people. another form of subscription book, now fortunately obsolete, was the book in "parts." a "part" consisted of some twenty-four or forty-eight pages, or more, in paper covers. these were delivered and paid for by the buyer in instalments of one or two at a time until the entire work was complete. then the binding order was solicited. it was an expensive and unsatisfactory makeshift, intended to reach those who could pay only a dollar or two a month. the theory was that the people could not be trusted, and therefore the book must be cut up and delivered in pieces. later the publishers learned that "most people are honest," and the modern method is to deliver the complete publication and collect the price in monthly instalments. this plan has proved far more economical both to subscribers and publishers, and the losses are few if the management is careful and conservative. one house which carefully scrutinizes its orders has suffered losses of less than one per cent on a business of several millions of dollars covering a period of fifteen years. in late years by far the greatest part of the subscription-book business has been done with complete sets of books, usually the writings of the leading standard authors. these books are sold directly to the subscriber who gives a signed order, and the publisher makes the delivery, pays the agent a cash commission, and collects the payments as they fall due. the old, worthless, "made-up" books are rapidly disappearing, and the subscription-book of to-day is as a rule a vastly superior article to that of a score of years ago. in fact some of the oldest and most reliable publishing houses in america now offer their choicest output by subscription. a large investment of capital in plates, illustrations, editorial work, etc., such as is necessary in many of the extensive editions of standard works, could not be made unless there, were an assured return. the subscription method of selling makes such undertakings possible, and the result of its adoption has been the issue of many superb publications which never would or could have been undertaken, had the retail book store been the only outlet to the market. the subscription business has in this way proved a marked benefit to the lovers of fine editions of their favorite authors. the book-lover has been benefited, too, in the matter of prices. the agent's commission under the modern methods is no greater than the bookseller's profit, and no extraordinary allowance is made for losses, as many imagine, for the losses are comparatively small. the desire to extend his business leads the publisher to make his books more attractive, while there is plenty of competition to keep the prices down. it is a fact that the buyer is to-day getting a far better book for his money than ever before. the personnel of the canvassing force has also undergone a change. a business such as the best houses are now doing requires agents of intelligence, tact, and judgment. the callow youth cannot succeed as he did once. the man who has failed at everything else will fail here. there are now men and women engaged in selling books by subscription, who possess business ability of a high order. many of them have well-established lines of trade,--regular customers who depend upon them to supply their wants and keep them informed. the old jibes about the book-agent fall flat when applied to them. they do not bore their customers or tire them out. they serve them, and the customers are glad to be served by them. i have taken care to point out that these observations apply to the business as conducted by the older and more conservative book publishers, who value their reputation. in a consideration of the subject a sharp distinction should be drawn between such publishers and a class of irresponsible schemers who by various ingenious devices seek to gain the public ear and then proceed to impose upon their victims to the full extent of their credulity. in recent years many schemes have been devised,--a few honest, some about half honest, and the rest miserable "fakes." one of the earliest and most successful "schemes," not dishonest but certainly ingenious, was that of a publisher who had a large stock of unmarketable books whose retail price was $ a volume. he organized an association and sold memberships at $ , the membership entitling the subscriber to one of the $ books and the privilege of buying miscellaneous books at a discount. the discounts really were no greater than could have been obtained in any department store, but the "association" thought it had a great concession and multiplied so rapidly that the unmarketable book had to be reprinted again and again. the next "scheme" to come into prominence was the so-called "raised contract." the process was simple. the order blank read, for example, $ a volume, but the publisher wanted "a few influential citizens like yourself" to write testimonials, and had a few copies for sale to such people--only a very few--at $ , merely the cost of the paper and binding. by paying cash you could get another reduction, and as a special favor from the agent still another, and so on, until you found the price whittled down to the ridiculously low sum of $ . . when the customer woke up and found that all his neighbors were also "influential citizens" who had bought at the same price or possibly less, and that the book would be dear at $ , he mentally resolved to "buy no more from that house." the figures are given merely to illustrate the idea and are not quoted from any particular proposition. it is unfortunately true, however, that the plan here illustrated is now in daily use by many concerns, although there are indications that it is gradually dying as the result of overwork! another scheme is to advertise a "a few slightly damaged" copies of a book for sale at barely the cost of the sheets--to save rebinding. a publisher once confided to me that he was doing a "land-office business" selling "slightly damaged stock." "how do you damage the stock," i asked,--"throw the books across the room?" "no," he replied, laughing, "we haven't time to do that." some of the schemes are so ludicrous as to cause one to wonder how anybody can be made to believe the story. such was the one which soberly informed the prospective customer that he had been selected by a committee of congress as one of a few representative citizens to whom the united states government would be willing to sell some of its precious documents. he was not asked to subscribe, but merely to "let us know" if he didn't want it, for "another gentleman" was quite anxious to secure his copy, etc. of course the fortunate representative citizen made haste to secure the copy which congress intended him to have. i am told that the originator of this scheme made a fortune out of it. all these schemes, from the laughably absurd to the contemptibly mean, should be regarded merely as an excrescence upon the legitimate subscription-book business. they are like the "get-rich-quick" and "wildcat" banking schemes which flourish in prosperous times, but have nothing whatever in common with legitimate financial affairs. it is unfortunate for the book trade that these schemers selected books as the particular kind of merchandise upon which to exercise their ingenuity. they admit that their agents are expected not to canvass the merits of the book, but to "sell their story." they might have done the same thing had they chosen jewelry, bric-a-brac, rugs, paintings, stocks, bonds, or anything else as the subject for their exploitation. the reliable publishers are hoping that at no distant date the schemers will take up some of these other lines, although they bear no grudge against the latter. if any prejudice exists in the public mind against subscription books, it is caused by the illegitimate use of books as a means of "fooling" if not of swindling the people. there are many honorable men and many houses of the highest class who are engaged in the subscription-book business. these should no more be classed with such schemers as i have described than tiffany's with the diamond merchants who ornament the fronts of their stores with the three balls. the leading legal lights of the world and the gentry who frequent the police courts are all called lawyers; the eminent surgeon who performs marvellous operations involving incredible knowledge and skill and the half-breed who used to pull teeth in front of the circus, the brass band drowning the shrieks of his victims, are both called doctors. the eminent divine and his ignorant colored brother may both be preachers. intelligent people know how to discriminate between these, and do not condemn the one for the faults of the others. and so the intelligent and honorable book agent who represents a thoroughly reliable publishing house deserves to be differentiated from the fellow who comes with a lie on his tongue, for which an unscrupulous schemer is directly responsible. the subscription-book business, in the hands of honorable men, has performed a great service to the whole country, by putting good books into thousands and hundreds of thousands of homes, where, but for them, there would be little to read beyond the newspaper or the magazine. the best publishers have found it the most practicable method of distribution for their more extensive productions, and thousands of thoughtful men are glad of the opportunity to receive the representatives of such houses and to have the best of the new publications promptly brought to their attention. selling at auction by john anderson, jr. while the auctioneer is admitted to be an important factor in the handling of a book once it has become a finished product, his relations to it are not clearly understood, even by many of those who avail themselves of his services as a medium of sale or purchase. an endeavor shall therefore be made to present here, in the simplest possible way, some facts which may prove both pertinent and enlightening. it is to be presumed that the auctioneering of books began at the time when it first became apparent to the owners of libraries that a necessity existed for the establishment of a system by which they could reach the largest number of buyers, and bring about the quickest sales and returns, for these are, admittedly, the distinguishing features of the auction method, as opposed to all others.[ ] selling to the highest bidder proved the happy solution of the problem, and to this day it has been universally recognized as the most satisfactory method of dispersion. to quote a book as having sold for so much at auction gives it in the minds of all true bookmen the best possible criterion of value. the prices obtained, though variable, represent a consensus of opinion, and may be considered as standards. [footnote : "but it was soon perceived, that when necessity or inclination determined the disposal of libraries, the auction method was on the whole by far the best, producing as it did, and still does, competition amongst a larger circle of intending purchasers, with a better result than would have been obtained by selling _en bloc_."--john lawler, in "book auctions in england in the seventeenth century."] so far as can be traced, the earliest known book auctions took place in holland. the library of marnix of st. aldegonde was sold by christopher poret at leyden, july , , this being the earliest recorded sale. the first english book sale is supposed to have been that held on october , , when the library of the then lately deceased rev. lazarus seaman was sold at his residence in warwick court, warwick lane, london, by william cooper. the earliest known sale in america occurred at the crown coffee house in boston, on july , , and succeeding days, when was dispersed the library of the famous early new england divine, rev. ebenezer pemberton. philadelphia held book auction sales many years in advance of new york, the earliest known being that of the library of charles read, in . the date of the first sale in new york is unknown, as is the name of the auctioneer, but an advertisement of mclaughlin & blakely, of maiden lane, in a paper of may , , reads as follows, "from the long acquaintance of mr. mclaughlin with the book auction business, he trusts that the firm will receive a consequent share of public patronage." it is known that mclaughlin & co. held unimportant book sales at maiden lane in , and late though this date is, it will have to stand as representing the earliest book auction sale in new york until newly discovered evidence reveals an earlier recorded one.[ ] [footnote : "seventy years of book auctions in new york," robert f. roden.] it rarely happens that a really great collection of books is sold otherwise than at auction. the collector recognizes that the taste and judgment displayed by him in the acquirement of his library will, by the medium of the auctioneer's carefully prepared catalogue, be made evident to all succeeding generations of book lovers. how many would to-day know the names of george brinley, john allan, and william menzies, were it not for the sale catalogues of their collections? they attained book-fame without having sought it. in this connection, an extract may be quoted from the will of edmond de goncourt, the distinguished french writer and collector:-- "my wish is that my drawings, my prints, my curiosities, my books--in a word, these things of art which have been the joy of my life--shall not be consigned to the cold tomb of a museum, and subjected to the stupid glance of the careless passer-by; but i require that they shall all be dispersed under the hammer of the auctioneer, so that the pleasure which the acquiring of each one of them has given me shall be given again, in each case, to some inheritor of my own tastes." a list of those whose libraries have been dispersed at public auction would contain an astonishing proportion of names great in the world's history. even in cases where the collections were not directly dispersed by the auction method, it will be found that the bulk of the more important works contained therein had, at some previous period, passed through the auctioneer's hands. to unthinking minds, there exist certain prejudices against the auction method, doubtless due to a want of discrimination between the many who faithfully pursue their calling, and the few who by questionable dealings have dishonored and discredited themselves rather than their craft. benjamin franklin is only one among many of the american book auctioneers whose names were synonymous with integrity during the long period--nearly two hundred years--in which their services were employed in the dispersal of libraries. the long and honorable careers of certain of the english book auction houses--notably that of messrs. sotheby, wilkinson & hodge, founded in --shows conclusively that the business itself has been accepted by the public, as forming an essential part in disseminating the world's literature. the auctioneer is in a position to extend many exceptional advantages to his customers. the quantity and variety of the books offered is far greater than is possible to be found in the stock of any dealer, being subject to constant additions and changes. the average quality is high where the auctioneer makes the sales of private collections a specialty, and much inferior where dependence is placed upon the sale of material received from the booksellers which they have been unable to sell after repeated efforts. naturally, the better items are reserved for their own shelves. among the leaders in the book auction trade, it will be found that a very large proportion of the material offered by them comes from authentic private sources, though, in many cases, there is a disinclination on the part of the owner to allow the use of his or her name in connection with the sale. the prices obtained for books at sales held by regular book auctioneers (no pretence of recognition need be accorded furniture and bric-a-brac auctioneers, who occasionally secure consignments of books from parties unaware of the existence of an establishment devoted exclusively to their sale) are necessarily variable, being governed, as is everything else, by the law of demand and supply. a particularly choice item will command about the same price whenever offered,--generally an increasing one,--but the ordinary book can often be obtained at bargain figures. this element of uncertainty goes far toward making the auction sale so attractive to collectors with slender purses, as also to those who may be designated "moral book-gamblers," always ready to take a chance where the outcome is problematical. many fine collections have been gathered by well-informed private buyers, who made a point of attending auction sales, and purchasing desirable items, when for some reason the prices were lower than usual. some of these collections have since been sold at auction, and the owners have netted a handsome profit on their investments. many book buyers entertain erroneous ideas regarding the condition of the volumes sold at leading auction houses, confounding them with those sold at storage warehouses, furniture auction rooms, etc. the fact is, a very large proportion of the books, even of the older species, are in fine, clean condition, many being in choice bindings, and equal to the most fastidious requirement. an indication of the important relation of the book auctioneer to the market, as a source of supply, may be judged from the issue of a bulletin by the american library association during the past year, calling attention of the three thousand or more public libraries of the country to the advantages of purchasing at auction sales, recommending certain named houses, and outlining the mode of procedure in sending bids. it took years of hard and discouraging labor to bring about conditions that would warrant this recognition. the great majority of buyers at book auctions reside in localities widely removed from the cities where the sales are held, and it is, of course, necessary that these customers should be given equal advantages with the home buyers in effecting purchases at sales. the printed catalogue is made the medium of this accomplishment. the books are described in detail, mention being made of the author's name, the title, size, binding, place, and date of publication, and condition (if either above or below the average). if the edition is special, or it is a large paper copy, this is duly set forth in the description. all imperfections are carefully noted. the aim of the auctioneer is to bring the book or set of books so clearly before the mind of the prospective buyer as to gain his confidence. an express stipulation is made in the conditions of sale that any book found to be otherwise than as described may be returned, but as the auctioneer desires to avoid this contingency, he is generally careful in his descriptions, and they may, as a rule, be depended upon. a printed slip is enclosed in each catalogue on which the intending purchaser notes the numbers of the lots he desires and the limit of price to which he is prepared to go. it is then forwarded by mail to the auction house, where the slips are tabulated by a clerk, the names and amounts being placed against each item in a specially prepared catalogue. incidentally, it may be stated that all bids are considered as strictly confidential. at the time of sale, the principal of the establishment, or one of his chief assistants, takes his place in the audience on an even footing with all other buyers, and uses the bids, as enrolled, in competition with such as may be offered by other attendants at the sale. where two or more bids have been received on any item, the competition is first narrowed by the elimination of all except the two highest ones, and then the start is made at a figure just beyond the second highest. the battle between the auctioneer, acting as the representative of the out-of-town bidder, and some ardent book lover personally attending the sale, for the possession of a particularly coveted work, often provokes genuine enthusiasm. it is finally knocked down to the highest bidder at the point where competition ceases, and this is often much below the limit named by the buyer. the wise purchaser at auction, when assured of the honorable standing of the house with which he deals, will not hesitate in sending liberal bids, for by so doing he will gain much and lose little. the methods of conducting sales and handling bids differ somewhat in the various cities, but that, as above outlined, is adopted by the leading houses. in some concerns, the auctioneer himself executes the commissions from the rostrum, but when this is done, even though he may be a man of the strictest integrity, the method is open to criticism, it being well understood that the reputation of an auctioneer is largely dependent on the high prices he obtains. there is a material difference between the english and american methods of cataloguing books for sale at auction. in england the charges are inclusive, the cost of printing, postage, etc., being assumed by the auctioneer, so that he finds it to his interest to compress catalogue descriptions into the narrowest possible compass, to minimize the distribution of the catalogue, and to spend as small an amount of money in advertising as possible. in america, the charges are exclusive, the commission representing the auctioneer's only interest, and the incidental expenses of printing, etc., are paid by the consignor. because of this, a more liberal policy is pursued as to expenditures. many good titles that are bunched in lots in the london sales are here separately catalogued, mention is made of all defects, and, on the average, more careful attention is paid to the details of the descriptions. catalogues are given a wider circulation in america, and more dependence is placed on the receipt of bids from out-of-town buyers. new methods and channels of advertising are being constantly considered and utilized. it is believed that these elements, combined, conduce to the benefit of the consignor, when the material offered possesses real interest and value. the auctioneer who conducts a modern high-class establishment, where a guaranty of intelligent service is given, can employ only the best available talent for cataloguing purposes, either men of proved ability and special knowledge, or those that show a decided aptitude for the work and give promise of attainment. most book auction houses in this country are obliged to call in the services of an interpreter when a book in other than the english or french language is to be catalogued, but in europe the force employed is, as a rule, equal to all emergencies. to illustrate the variety of demand made upon the modern auctioneer, in this line, it may be stated that the establishment with which the writer is connected, can catalogue items in english, french, german, italian, spanish, portuguese, latin, greek, dutch, swedish, and danish; in fact, nearly all of the european, and some of the oriental languages, without calling upon outside help. a book auctioneer would find it as impossible to properly handle books without the use of a suitable reference library, as for a carpenter to work without tools. in a live, up-to-date auction house, every bibliographical work of real value not already possessed is secured when found in the open markets, and consulted frequently. these collections often represent an expenditure of thousands of dollars. some single works call for the outlay of hundreds, but they are essential for the use of the expert cataloguer. the labor involved in handling books in connection with their sale at auction is very heavy. supposing that a library of, say, five thousand volumes is offered for sale. it is packed by the owner, or under his directions, and is forwarded to the auctioneer. the boxes are opened and the contents placed in a special compartment. they are then catalogued, each item being separately handled. another clerk then arranges them for exhibition on the shelves, where they remain until the time of sale. during the sale, they are again exhibited, and handled, and after it are laid aside in groups, according to their newly acquired ownership. when shipment is made the following day, or later, another handling is required. no scheme can be devised that will admit of less than four handlings of the entire lot. when we consider that in some establishments nearly a million separate items are received and sold each season, some idea may be formed of the labor involved. the auctioneer has been obliged to either adapt his business to modern conditions, even though it entails heavy expense and added burdens, or take a rear place in the procession. business cannot be transacted now as it was even five years ago, though many attempt to do it by the antiquated methods of the times "befo' de war." more books are sold by auction each successive year; and with the wonderful progress being made in the literary development of this great country, it is likely that the auctioneer will become in the near future an even more important factor in the formation and dissemination of libraries than ever before. the following extract from a magazine article on "the book auction," written years ago by joel benton, may be deemed a fitting conclusion. he said:-- "in no one place are there so many eager patrons of the book auction as in new york. here are men who can give thousands of dollars for a single book, if they choose, and add it to an already extremely valuable collection. "it is pleasant to see these men and their representatives sitting in the auction room, and poring, over their catalogues. there are times when they must not be disturbed, or spoken to. great issues depend upon their utmost attention. not izaak walton, the many rare editions of whose one great book they rapturously fish for, ever fished more intently for trout and grayling than they for the beauties of thought and of the printer's art. "no idyls of the brook call your chronic book buyer to bask in green meadows, and under cerulean skies while the auction season lasts. the pine floor, the gaslight, and the voice of the auctioneer hold him. his house may overflow with thousands of unshelved volumes. naught cares he. it is not because he is short of reading that he buys. it is because he is drawn by that fascinating, never-to-be-accounted-for, and inexpressible ardor of the pursuit. i have a friend who says he would rather attend a book auction than spend an evening with the president, or with our greatest general, or with a literary lion like tennyson or browning." selecting for a public library by arthur e. bostwick. in selecting books for a public library, the two things generally taken into account are the public desire and the public need. the different values attached to each of these two factors may be said to determine the policy of the library in book-buying. the extreme cases, where full force is given to one factor while the other is entirely disregarded, do not, of course, exist. libraries do not purchase every book that is asked for, without considering whether such purchases are right and proper. nor do they, on the other hand, disregard popular demand altogether and purchase from a list made up solely with regard to what the community ought to read rather than what it wants to read. between these two extremes, however, there may be an indefinite number of means. a librarian may, for instance, purchase chiefly books in general demand, exercising judgment in disregarding such requests as he may deem improper. or he may buy chiefly those books that in his opinion should be read in his community, listening to the voice of the public only when it becomes importunate. several considerations may have part in influencing his course in this regard. in the first place, a library with plenty of money at command may in a measure follow both plans; in other words, it may buy not only all the good books that the public wants to read, but those also that it should read. the more limited the appropriation for book purchase, the more pressing becomes the need that the librarian should decide on a precise policy. again, a library whose books are for general circulation would naturally give more heed to popular demand than a reference library used chiefly by students. further, an endowed institution, not dependent on public support, could afford to disregard the public wishes to an extent impossible in the case of a library whose expenses are paid by the municipality from the proceeds of taxation. above and beyond all these considerations, the personal equation comes in, sometimes very powerfully. it often seems as if some library authorities regard popular favor as an actual mark of discredit, while others look upon it almost as a condition precedent to purchase. take, as an example, the so-called "fiction question," over which most libraries, and some of their patrons, are at present more or less exercised. there can be no doubt of the popular regard for this form of literature, especially for the current novel or romance. some libraries would sternly discourage this preference and refuse to purchase fiction less than one year old, while others do not hesitate to buy, within the limits of their purses, all such books as would be likely to interest or entertain the average reader of taste and intelligence. the views of the selector regarding the relative importance of the library's duties as an educator and an entertainer must also affect his views. it has been tacitly assumed that the selection is made by one person. as a matter of fact, however, the final approval is generally given by a book committee of some kind, usually a committee of the library trustees or persons responsible to them, often with the help of outside advisers. the weight of the librarian's views with this body will depend on various circumstances. sometimes he has his own way; sometimes his wishes are practically disregarded. moreover, the composition of such a body varies so that any continuous policy is difficult for it. owing to all these facts, it is probable that no two libraries in the united states, even when they are closely related by classification, as when both are branch libraries for circulation, state libraries, public reference libraries, or university libraries, are pursuing exactly the same policy in book purchase, although, as has been said, their various policies are always compounded of different proportions of these two factors,--regard for the wishes and demands of their users, and consideration of what is right and proper for those users, from whatever standpoint. the stickler for uniformity will lament this diversity, but it is probably a good thing. in many libraries, there are as many minds as there are men, and it cannot be and ought not to be otherwise. now, how does the person, or the body, that is responsible for the selection of books for a library ascertain the facts on which, as has been said, the selection must be based? it is usually not difficult to find out what the public wants. its demands almost overwhelm the assistant at the desk. some libraries provide special blank forms on which these requests may be noted. they are often capricious; sometimes they do not represent the dominant public wish. the voice of one insistent person asking for his book day after day may impress itself on the mind more forcibly than the many diffident murmurs of a considerable number. in libraries that possess a system of branches, there is little difficulty in recognizing a general public demand. such a demand will be reported from a large number of branch libraries at once, in which case the chances of mistake will be small. in the new york public library many useful suggestions are gained through the operation of the inter-branch loan system, whereby a user of one branch may send for a book contained in any other branch. books so asked for are reported at the central headquarters, and if they are not in the library at all, the request is regarded as a suggestion for purchase. should such requests come from users of several branches at once, the desired book is very likely to be purchased. often the demand is general rather than specific, as for "a book about the caucasus" or for "more works on surveying," and sometimes they are vague or misleading, titles being wrong and authors' names spelled phonetically; yet the work made necessary in looking up these demands is more than repaid by the knowledge that it may result in making the library of more value to the public. in some cases the librarian desires not only to respond to the public want, but even to anticipate it. he does not wait to see whether a new book on japan will be in demand, because he is sure that such will be the case. he does not hesitate to order a new book by kipling or mrs. humphry ward as soon as he sees its title in the publisher's announcements. the necessity for some other anticipatory orders may be less evident, and this kind of work requires good judgment and discrimination; but in general if a book is to be purchased on publication, it cannot be on the library shelves too soon after the date of issue. in any case, where it is desirable and proper to please the public, double pleasure can be given by promptness; hence the importance of being a little before, rather than a little behind, the popular desire. all this calls for little but quick and discriminating observation,--the ability to feel and read the public pulse in matters literary. it is in regard to the second and more important factor that failure waits most insistently on the librarian. what are the public's needs, as distinguished from its desires? what ought it to read? here steps in the "categorical imperative" with a vengeance. the librarian, when he thinks of his duty along this line, begins to shudder as he realizes his responsibility as an educator, as a mentor, as a trainer of literary taste. probably in some instances he takes himself too seriously. but, no matter how lightly he may bear these responsibilities, every selector of books for a public library realizes that he must give some consideration to this question. in the first place, there are general needs; there are certain standard books that must be on the shelves of every well-ordered library, no matter whether they are read or not. it is his business to provide and recommend them. what are these standards? no two lists are alike. they start together: "the bible and shakespeare"--and then off they go in divergent paths! secondly, there are special needs dependent on locality or on the race or temperament of the users of a particular library. the determination of these needs in itself is a task of no small magnitude; their legitimate satisfaction is sometimes difficult in the extreme. to take a concrete instance, the librarian may discover that there is in his vicinity a little knot of people who meet occasionally to talk over current questions, not formally, but half by accident. they would be benefited, and would be greatly interested, in the right sort of books on economics, but they have scarcely heard that there is such a subject. that the public library might be interested in them and might aid them would never occur to any of them. the discovery of such people, the determination of just what books they need, and the successful bringing together of man and book--all these are the business of the librarian, and it is a part of his work that cannot be separated from that of book selection. in much of this work the librarian of a large library must depend to a great extent on others. both the desires and the needs of those who use his library he must learn from the reports of subordinates and from outside friends. the librarian of a small library can ascertain much personally; but both librarians are largely dependent upon expert opinion in their final selections. after concluding that the library must have an especially full and good collection of books on pottery, the selector must go to some one who knows, to find out what are the best works on this subject. when there is a good list, he must know where to find it, or at least where to go to find out where it is. he must consult all the current publishers' lists as they appear, and scan each catalogue of bargains. his list of books wanted for purchase should far exceed his ability to buy, for then he must, perforce, exercise his judgment and pick out the best. if, after all, the collection of books in his library is not such as to meet the approval of the public, he must bow meekly under the weight of its scorn. the deluge of books that falls daily from the presses is almost past comprehension. the number of intelligent readers, thanks to the opportunities given by our public libraries, is increasing in due proportion. to select from the stream what is properly fitted to the demands of this rapidly growing host is a task not to be lightly performed. that the authorities of our libraries do not shrink from it is fortunate indeed; that the result is no worse than it is, is a fact on which the reading public must doubtless be congratulated. rare and second-hand books by charles e. goodspeed. books are much more indestructible than is generally supposed. furniture, clothing, and most of the appurtenances of the house disappear rapidly with time, but books, by the nature of their component material and construction, have a longer life. at least this may be said of books printed before the present era of paper making. since the invention of printing in the fifteenth century, the product of the myriad presses, principally in europe, has been enormous, and the output of books in the four hundred odd years of printing defies computation. while many have been destroyed by use, fire, or other agencies, an immense number exists at the present time, and their disposal, made necessary through death or the breaking up of households, is a matter of practical consideration. as it is usually impossible for the owner to find individual customers, the second-hand book-dealer becomes a necessity. the usefulness of the dealer to the community depends upon his honesty, intelligence, and industry; upon his honesty, in giving a fair price to the owner, on his intelligence in finding customers for books apart from general interest, and on his industry in so conducting his business that his stock may not become a mass of ill-assorted rubbish. the small collection of books in the ordinary household (averaging usually not over a few hundred volumes), contains, it is safe to say, a large percentage of no commercial value. the rest may be valued either for rarity, for the place which they may fill in some collection, or for the intrinsic excellence of the edition. customers for the rarities are found amongst numerous collectors, and to a more limited extent in the large public libraries. many individual buyers prefer the sterling editions printed on rag paper by the old masters of the craft to books of modern production, and so create a market for good old editions. modern editions of standard authors are produced so cheaply, however, that an old edition will bring but a small price unless it has some distinguishing merit. these points should be borne in mind by those who have books to sell. they should remember, also, that the public is to-day no longer interested in many subjects on which books were printed in the past. it should also be known that the arts, the sciences, and the professions, have made such advances that old books on these subjects are of little more value than waste paper, excepting in the few notable cases of books which are of historical importance to the student as landmarks of progress. the omission of these works, of obsolete fiction, and the books of the hour, reduce the bulk of the ordinary collection to a small value. it may then properly be asked where the valuable books come from, and how are they obtained? it may safely be stated that most rarities to-day are discovered in out-of-the-way places, in old collections or libraries, attics, or from sources which have not been investigated by the keen-eyed collectors and dealers. there are comparatively few houses, at least in the most thickly settled parts of this country, which have no books, and in a considerable number of these collections there are at least some books which have a degree of rarity and a special commercial value. the large private libraries are also constantly being dispersed, and, excepting always the books which are being absorbed by the permanent collections of public institutions, form a constant supply, passing from the owner to dealer, from him to a new owner, only to find their way eventually to the market again. books are not valuable merely because of age (excepting those printed in the fifteenth century), nor solely on account of their rarity. it is quite apparent that a rare book for which there is no demand can have no value. it is the combination of desirability and rarity which gives value, and that value fluctuates with the demand, being subject to the caprice of the collector or the fashion of the day. this may be illustrated by the collecting of first editions. thirty years ago the first editions of modern authors brought small prices; twenty years later they were eagerly sought for; while now a reaction is taking place, and only the great rarities in this line find a ready sale. at the present time the books which are most quickly sold in this country are those relating to american history, particularly those on the discovery and settlement of the continent, the indians, the american revolution, navy, local history, and genealogy, etc. books on these subjects which are really rare, find a ready sale. first editions of the early books in _belles-lettres_, books with presentation inscriptions from their authors, books containing unusual examples of early engravers, or those made famous by the illustrative work of such artists as rowlandson, leech, and cruikshank; these are a few of the lines in which there are numerous collectors, but it should be understood that they are only a few of the more conspicuous out of hundreds of similar lines of interest. the number of collectors is multiplying with the increase of the country's wealth, and there is a growing tendency for collectors to take up new subjects, which very much broadens the interest in the books of bygone days. to enumerate these subjects at length would be but to detail the personal interests and hobbies of thousands of cultivated collectors. it may be safely prophesied that books which are regarded to-day as rare and desirable by any considerable number of collectors will, on the whole, command a steady increase in value. the tendency, however, is strongly toward a decrease in the value of books of moderate value and a large increase in the value of especially desirable items. the accounts given in the daily press of the finding of valuable books are the innocent means of misleading a great many people, who labor under the delusion that because one early edition of a book commands a large price, another edition of about the same time must necessarily have the same value. this is one of many errors which the public entertains regarding rare books. not only does a few years' difference in the date of publication mean the difference between a large value and none at all, but often two editions, apparently the same, bearing identical title-pages, possess differences in text, which are known only to the expert, but which make a vast difference in their value. books otherwise valuable, but containing material defects (such as lack of pages or portions of pages), are thereby very much reduced in value; in fact, the value of an imperfect book is usually but a small fraction of that of a perfect example. not only do these grosser defects reduce the value, but it sometimes happens that the mere absence of a half title, or advertising leaves, or even the flyleaves, will make a considerable difference. such points also as the size of the copy, whether it is in original binding or not, or, if rebound, whether the edges have been trimmed by the binder,--these all have an important bearing upon prices. as a rule, the nearer the book is to the original state in which it left the publisher's hands, the more valuable it will be. the art of the second-hand bookseller requires a knowledge of the science of bibliography, and painstaking attention to the details and orderly arrangement of stock, with a classification by subjects. other things are desirable, but these are indispensable. the stock of second-hand books should be kept in such a manner that any book inquired for can be instantly located. nothing is more irritating both to the dealer and to the customer than an unsuccessful search for a book known to be in stock. there are probably very few books which at some time will not be desired by some person; in fact, a large portion of the books in a dealer's stock would be instantly sold if he could understand the particular feature which would be of interest to the possible customer. usually, the feature is there, and the customer exists. it is the bookseller's business to find both. there is no business in which a thorough knowledge of the stock and a painstaking attention to small details are of more importance than in the selling of books, and without them the second-hand bookseller's establishment degenerates to the level of the junk shop. the artistic crafts series of technical handbooks edited by w. r. lethaby bookbinding [illustration: white pigskin.--_basle_, .] bookbinding, and the care of books a handbook for amateurs bookbinders & librarians by douglas cockerell with drawings by noel rooke and other illustrations [illustration] new york d. appleton and company copyright, , by d. appleton and company _all rights reserved_ editor's preface in issuing this volume of a series of handbooks on the artistic crafts, it will be well to state what are our general aims. in the first place, we wish to provide trustworthy text-books of workshop practice, from the points of view of experts who have critically examined the methods current in the shops, and putting aside vain survivals, are prepared to say what is good workmanship, and to set up a standard of quality in the crafts which are more especially associated with design. secondly, in doing this, we hope to treat design itself as an essential part of good workmanship. during the last century most of the arts, save painting and sculpture of an academic kind, were little considered, and there was a tendency to look on "design" as a mere matter of _appearance_. such "ornamentation" as there was was usually obtained by following in a mechanical way a drawing provided by an artist who often knew little of the technical processes involved in production. with the critical attention given to the crafts by ruskin and morris, it came to be seen that it was impossible to detach design from craft in this way, and that, in the widest sense, true design is an inseparable element of good quality, involving as it does the selection of good and suitable material, contrivance for special purpose, expert workmanship, proper finish and so on, far more than mere ornament, and indeed, that ornamentation itself was rather an exuberance of fine workmanship than a matter of merely abstract lines. workmanship when separated by too wide a gulf from fresh thought--that is, from design--inevitably decays, and, on the other hand, ornamentation, divorced from workmanship, is necessarily unreal, and quickly falls into affectation. proper ornamentation may be defined as a language addressed to the eye; it is pleasant thought expressed in the speech of the tool. in the third place, we would have this series put artistic craftsmanship before people as furnishing reasonable occupation for those who would gain a livelihood. although within the bounds of academic art, the competition, of its kind, is so acute that only a very few per cent. can fairly hope to succeed as painters and sculptors; yet, as artistic craftsmen, there is every probability that nearly every one who would pass through a sufficient period of apprenticeship to workmanship and design would reach a measure of success. in the blending of handwork and thought in such arts as we propose to deal with, happy careers may be found as far removed from the dreary routine of hack labour, as from the terrible uncertainty of academic art. it is desirable in every way that men of good education should be brought back into the productive crafts: there are more than enough of us "in the city," and it is probable that more consideration will be given in this century than in the last to design and workmanship. w. r. lethaby. author's note it is hoped that this book will help bookbinders and librarians to select sound methods of binding books. it is intended to supplement and not to supplant workshop training for bookbinders. no one can become a skilled workman by reading text-books, but to a man who has acquired skill and practical experience, a text-book, giving perhaps different methods from those to which he has been accustomed, may be helpful. my thanks are due to many friends, including the workmen in my workshop, for useful suggestions and other help, and to the society of arts for permission to quote from the report of their special committee on leather for bookbinding. i should also like to express my indebtedness to my master, mr. t. j. cobden-sanderson, for it was in his workshop that i learned my craft, and anything that may be of value in this book is due to his influence. d. c. _november_ . contents part i _binding_ page editor's preface author's note chapter i introduction chapter ii entering--books in sheets--folding--collating--pulling to pieces--refolding--knocking out joints chapter iii guarding--throwing out--paring paper--soaking off india proofs--mounting very thin paper--splitting paper--inlaying--flattening vellum chapter iv sizing--washing--mending chapter v end papers--leather joints--pressing chapter vi trimming edges before sewing--edge gilding chapter vii marking up--sewing--materials for sewing chapter viii fraying out slips--glueing up--rounding and backing chapter ix cutting and attaching boards--cleaning off back--pressing chapter x cutting in boards--gilding and colouring edges chapter xi headbanding chapter xii preparing for covering--paring leather--covering--mitring corners--filling-in boards chapter xiii library binding--binding very thin books--scrap-books--binding in vellum--books covered with embroidery chapter xiv decoration--tools--finishing--tooling on vellum--inlaying on leather chapter xv lettering--blind tooling--heraldic ornament chapter xvi designing for gold-tooled decoration chapter xvii pasting down end papers--opening books chapter xviii clasps and ties--metal on bindings chapter xix leather chapter xx paper--pastes--glue part ii _care of books when bound_ chapter xxi injurious influences to which books are subjected chapter xxii to preserve old bindings--re-backing specifications glossary reproductions of bindings (eight collotypes) index part i binding chapter i introduction the reasons for binding the leaves of a book are to keep them together in their proper order, and to protect them. that bindings can be made, that will adequately protect books, can be seen from the large number of fifteenth and sixteenth century bindings now existing on books still in excellent condition. that bindings are made, that fail to protect books, may be seen by visiting any large library, when it will be found that many bindings have their boards loose and the leather crumbling to dust. nearly all librarians complain, that they have to be continually rebinding books, and this not after four hundred, but after only five or ten years. it is no exaggeration to say that ninety per cent. of the books bound in leather during the last thirty years will need rebinding during the next thirty. the immense expense involved must be a very serious drag on the usefulness of libraries; and as rebinding is always to some extent damaging to the leaves of a book, it is not only on account of the expense that the necessity for it is to be regretted. the reasons that have led to the production in modern times of bindings that fail to last for a reasonable time, are twofold. the materials are badly selected or prepared, and the method of binding is faulty. another factor in the decay of bindings, both old and new, is the bad conditions under which they are often kept. the object of this text-book is to describe the best methods of bookbinding, and of keeping books when bound, taking into account the present-day conditions. no attempt has been made to describe all possible methods, but only such as appear to have answered best on old books. the methods described are for binding that can be done by hand with the aid of simple appliances. large editions of books are now bound, or rather cased, at an almost incredible speed by the aid of machinery, but all work that needs personal care and thought on each book, is still done, and probably always will be done, by hand. elaborate machinery can only be economically employed when very large numbers of books have to be turned out exactly alike. the ordinary cloth "binding" of the trade, is better described as casing. the methods being different, it is convenient to distinguish between casing and binding. in binding, the slips are firmly attached to the boards before covering; in casing, the boards are covered separately, and afterwards glued on to the book. very great efforts have been made in the decoration of cloth covers, and it is a pity that the methods of construction have not been equally considered. if cloth cases are to be looked upon as a temporary binding, then it seems a pity to waste so much trouble on their decoration; and if they are to be looked upon as permanent binding, it is a pity the construction is not better. for books of only temporary interest, the usual cloth cases answer well enough; but for books expected to have permanent value, some change is desirable. valuable books should either be issued in bindings that are obviously temporary, or else in bindings that are strong enough to be considered permanent. the usual cloth case fails as a temporary binding, because the methods employed result in serious damage to the sections of the book, often unfitting them for rebinding, and it fails as a permanent binding on account of the absence of sound construction. in a temporary publisher's binding, nothing should be done to the sections of a book that would injure them. plates should be guarded, the sewing should be on tapes, without splitting the head and tail, or "sawing in" the backs, of the sections; the backs should be glued up square without backing. the case may be attached, as is now usual. for a permanent publisher's binding, something like that recommended for libraries (page ) is suggested, with either leather or cloth on the back. at the end of the book four specifications are given (page ). the first is suggested for binding books of special interest or value, where no restriction as to price is made. a binding under this specification may be decorated to any extent that the nature of the book justifies. the second is for good binding, for books of reference and other heavy books that may have a great deal of wear. all the features of the first that make for the strength of the binding are retained, while those less essential, that only add to the appearance, are omitted. although the binding under this specification would be much cheaper than that carried out under the first, it would still be too expensive for the majority of books in most libraries; and as it would seem to be impossible to further modify this form of binding, without materially reducing its strength, for cheaper work, a somewhat different system is recommended. the third specification is recommended for the binding of the general run of small books in most libraries. the fourth is a modification of this for pamphlets and other books of little value, that need to be kept together tidily for occasional reference. thanks, in a great measure, to the work of mr. cobden-sanderson, there is in england the germ of a sound tradition for the best binding. the report of the committee appointed by the society of arts to investigate the cause of the decay of modern leather bindings, should tend to establish a sound tradition for cheaper work. the third specification at the end of this book is practically the same as that given in their report, and was arrived at by selection, after many libraries had been examined, and many forms of binding compared. up to the end of the eighteenth century the traditional methods of binding books had altered very little during three hundred years. books were generally sewn round five cords, the ends of all of these laced into the boards, and the leather attached directly to the back. at the end of the eighteenth century it became customary to pare down leather until it was as thin as paper, and soon afterwards the use of hollow backs and false bands became general, and these two things together mark the beginning of the modern degradation of binding, so far as its utility as a protection is concerned. the society of arts committee report that the bookbinders must share with the leather manufacturers and librarians the blame for the premature decay of modern bindings, because-- " . books are sewn on too few, and too thin cords, and the slips are pared down unduly (for the sake of neatness), and are not in all cases firmly laced into the boards. this renders the attachment of the boards to the book almost entirely dependent on the strength of the leather. " . the use of hollow backs throws all the strain of opening and shutting on the joints, and renders the back liable to come right off if the book is much used. " . the leather of the back is apt to become torn through the use of insufficiently strong headbands, which are unable to stand the strain of the book being taken from the shelf. " . it is a common practice to use far too thin leather; especially to use large thick skins very much pared down for small books. " . the leather is often made very wet and stretched a great deal in covering, with the result that on drying it is further strained, almost to breaking point, by contraction, leaving a very small margin of strength to meet the accidents of use." the history of the general introduction of hollow backs is probably somewhat as follows: leather was doubtless first chosen for covering the backs of books because of its toughness and flexibility; because, while protecting the back, it would bend when the book was opened and allow the back to "throw up" (see fig. , a). when gold tooling became common, and the backs of books were elaborately decorated, it was found that the creasing of the leather injured the brightness or the gold and caused it to crack. to avoid this the binders lined up the back until it was as stiff as a block of wood. the back would then not "throw up" as the book was opened, the leather would not be creased, and the gold would remain uninjured (see fig. , b). this was all very well for the gold, but a book so treated does not open fully, and indeed, if the paper is stiff, can hardly be got to open at all. to overcome both difficulties the hollow back was introduced, and as projecting bands would have been in the way, the sewing cord was sunk in saw cuts made across the back of the book. [illustration: fig. .] the use of hollow backs was a very ingenious way out of the difficulty, as with them the backs could be made to "throw up," and at the same time the leather was not disturbed (see fig. , c). the method of "sawing in" bands was known for a long time before the general use of hollow backs. it has been used to avoid the raised bands on books covered with embroidered material. if a book is sewn on tapes, and the back lined with leather, there is no serious objection to a carefully-made hollow back without bands. the vellum binders use hollow backs made in this way for great account books that stand an immense amount of wear. they make the "hollow" very stiff, so that it acts as a spring to throw the back up. but although, if carefully done, satisfactory bindings may be made with hollow backs, their use has resulted in the production of worthless bindings with little strength, and yet with the appearance of better work. the public having been accustomed to raised bands on the backs of books, and the real bands being sunk in the back, the binders put false ones over the "hollow." to save money or trouble, the bands being out of sight, the book would be sewn on only three or sometimes only two cords, the usual five false ones still showing at the back. often only two out of the three bands would be laced into the board, and sometimes the slips would not be laced in at all. again, false headbands worked by the yard by machinery would be stuck on at the head and tail, and a "hollow" made with brown paper. then leather so thin as to have but little strength, but used because it is easy to work and needs no paring, would be stuck on. the back would often be full gilt and lettered, and the sides sprinkled or marbled, thus further damaging the leather. in every large library hundreds of books bound somewhat on these lines may be seen. when they are received from the binder they have the appearance of being well bound, they look smart on the shelf, but in a few years, whether they are used or not, the leather will have perished and the boards become detached, and they will have to be rebound. as long as librarians expect the appearance of a guinea binding for two or three shillings, such shams will be produced. the librarian generally gets his money's worth, for it would be impossible for the binder to do better work at the price usually paid without materially altering the appearance of the binding. the polished calf and imitation crushed morocco must go, and in its place a rougher, thicker leather must be employed. the full-gilt backs must go, the coloured lettering panel must go, the hollow backs must go, but in the place of these we may have the books sewn on tapes with the ends securely fastened into split boards, and the thick leather attached directly to the backs of the sections. (see specification iii. page .) such a binding would look well and not be more expensive than the usual library binding. it should allow the book to open flat, and if the materials are well selected, be very durable, and specially strong in the joints, the weak place in most bindings. the lettering on the back may be damaged in time if the book is much used, but if so it can easily be renewed at a fraction of the cost of rebinding, and without injury to the book. while the majority of books in most libraries must be bound at a small cost, at most not exceeding a few shillings a volume, there is a large demand for good plain bindings, and a limited, but growing, demand for more or less decorated bindings for special books. any decoration but the simplest should be restricted to books bound as well as the binder can do them. the presence of decoration should be evidence that the binder, after doing his best with the "forwarding," has had time in which to try to make his work a beautiful, as well as a serviceable, production. many books, although well bound, are better left plain, or with only a little decoration. but occasionally there are books that the binder can decorate as lavishly as he is able. as an instance of bindings that cannot be over-decorated, those books which are used in important ceremonies, such as altar books, may be mentioned. such books may be decorated with gold and colour until they seem to be covered in a golden material. they will be but spots of gorgeousness in a great church or cathedral, and they cannot be said to be over-decorated as long as the decoration is good. so, occasionally some one may have a book to which he is for some reason greatly attached, and wishing to enshrine it, give the binder a free hand to do his best with it. the binder may wish to make a delicate pattern with nicely-balanced spots of ornament, leaving the leather for the most part bare, or he may wish to cover the outside with some close gold-tooled pattern, giving a richness of texture hardly to be got by other means. if he decides on the latter, many people will say that the cover is over-decorated. but as a book cover can never be seen absolutely alone, it should not be judged as an isolated thing covered with ornament without relief, but as a spot of brightness and interest among its surroundings. if a room and everything in it is covered with elaborate pattern, then anything with a plain surface would be welcome as a relief; but in a room which is reasonably free from ornament, a spot of rich decoration should be welcome. it is not contended that the only, or necessarily the best, method of decorating book covers is by elaborate all-over gold-tooled pattern; but it is contended that this is a legitimate method of decoration for exceptional books, and that by its use it is possible to get a beautiful effect well worth the trouble and expense involved. good leather has a beautiful surface, and may sometimes be got of a fine colour. the binder may often wish to show this surface and colour, and to restrict his decoration to small portions of the cover, and this quite rightly, he aiming at, and getting, a totally different effect than that got by all-over patterns. both methods are right if well done, and both methods can equally be vulgarised if badly done. a much debated question is, how far the decoration of a binding should be influenced by the contents of the book? a certain appropriateness there should be, but as a general thing, if the binder aims at making the cover beautiful, that is the best he can do. the hints given for designing are not intended to stop the development of the student's own ideas, but only to encourage their development on right lines. there should be a certain similarity of treatment between the general get-up of a book and its binding. it is a great pity that printers and binders have drifted so far apart; they are, or should be, working for one end, the production of a book, and some unity of aim should be evident in the work of the two. the binding of manuscripts and early printed books should be strong and simple. it should be as strong and durable as the original old bindings, and, like them, last with reasonable care for four hundred years or more. to this end the old bindings, with their stout sewing cord, wooden boards, and clasps, may be taken as models. the question is constantly asked, especially by women, if a living can be made by setting up as bookbinders. cheap binding can most economically be done in large workshops, but probably the best bindings can be done more satisfactorily by binders working alone, or in very small workshops. if any one intends to set up as a bookbinder, doing all the work without help, it is necessary to charge very high prices to get any adequate return after the working expenses have been paid. in order to get high prices, the standard of work must be very high; and in order to attain a high enough standard of work, a very thorough training is necessary. it is desirable that any one hoping to make money at the craft should have at least a year's training in a workshop where good work is done, and after that, some time will be spent before quite satisfactory work can be turned out rapidly enough to pay, supposing that orders can be obtained or the books bound can be sold. there are some successful binders who have had less than a year's training, but they are exceptional. those who have not been accustomed to manual work have usually, in addition to the necessary skill, to acquire the habit of continuous work. bookbinding seems to offer an opening for well-educated youths who are willing to serve an apprenticeship in a good shop, and who have some small amount of capital at their command. in addition to the production of decorated bindings, there is much to be done by specialising in certain kinds of work requiring special knowledge. repairing and binding early printed books and manuscripts, or the restoration of parish registers and accounts, may be suggested. chapter ii entering--books in sheets--folding--collating--pulling to pieces--refolding--knocking out joints entering on receiving a book for binding, its title should be entered in a book kept for that purpose, with the date of entry, and customer's name and address, and any instructions he may have given, written out in full underneath, leaving room below to enter the time taken on the various operations and cost of the materials used. it is well to number the entry, and to give a corresponding number to the book. it should be at once collated, and any special features noted, such as pages that need washing or mending. if the book should prove to be imperfect, or to have any serious defect, the owner should be communicated with, before it is pulled to pieces. this is very important, as imperfect books that have been "pulled" are not returnable to the bookseller. should defects only be discovered after the book has been taken to pieces, the bookbinder is liable to be blamed for the loss of any missing leaves. books in sheets the sheets of a newly printed book are arranged in piles in the printer's warehouse, each pile being made up of repetitions of the same sheet or "signature." plates or maps are in piles by themselves to make a complete book one sheet is gathered from each pile, beginning at the last sheet and working backwards to signature a. when a book is ordered from a publisher in sheets, it is such a "gathered" copy that the binder receives. some books are printed "double," that is, the type is set up twice, two copies are printed at once at different ends of a sheet of paper, and the sheets have to be divided down the middle before the copies can be separated. sometimes the title and introduction, or perhaps only the last sheet, will be printed in this way. publishers usually decline to supply in sheets fewer than two copies of such double-printed books. if a book is received unfolded, it is generally advisable at once to fold up the sheets and put them in their proper order, with half-title, title, introduction, &c., and, if there are plates, to compare them with the printed list. should there be in a recently published book defects of any kind, such as soiled sheets, the publisher will usually replace them on application, although they sometimes take a long time to do so. such sheets are called "imperfections," and the printers usually keep a number of "overs" in order to make good such imperfections as may occur. folding books received in sheets must be folded. folding requires care, or the margins of different leaves will be unequal, and the lines of printing not at right angles to the back. books of various sizes are known as "folio," "quarto," "octavo," "duodecimo," &c. these names signify the number of folds, and consequently the number of leaves the paper has been folded into. thus, a folio is made up of sheets of paper folded once down the centre, forming two leaves and four pages. the sheets of a quarto have a second fold, making four leaves and eight pages, and in an octavo the sheet has a third fold, forming eight leaves and sixteen pages (see fig. ), and so on. each sheet of paper when folded constitutes a section, except in the case of folios, where it is usual to make up the sections by inserting two or more sheets, one within the other. paper is made in several named sizes, such as "imperial," "royal," "demy," "crown," "foolscap," &c. (see p. ), so that the terms "imperial folio" or "crown octavo" imply that a sheet of a definite size has been folded a definite number of times. [illustration: fig. .] besides the traditional sizes, paper is now made of almost any length and width, resulting in books of odd shape, and the names folio, quarto, &c., are rather losing their true meaning, and are often used loosely to signify pages of certain sizes, irrespective of the number that go to a sheet. on receipt, for instance, of an octavo book for folding, the pile of sheets is laid flat on the table, and collated by the letter or signature of each sheet. the first sheet of the book proper will probably be signature b, as signature a usually consists of the half-title, title, introduction, &c., and often has to be folded up rather differently. the "outer" sides, known by the signature letters b, c, d, &c., should be downwards, and the inner sides facing upwards with the second signatures, if there are any, b , c , d , &c., at the right-hand bottom corner. the pages of an octave book, commencing at page , are shown at fig. . a folder is taken in the right hand, and held at the bottom of the sheet at about the centre, and the sheet taken by the left hand at the top right-hand corner and bent over until pages and come exactly over pages and ; and when it is seen that the headlines and figures exactly match, the paper, while being held in that position, is creased down the centre with the folder, and the fold cut up a little more than half-way. pages , , , will now be uppermost; pages and are now folded over to exactly match pages and , and the fold creased and cut up a little more than half-way, as before. pages and will now be uppermost, and will merely require folding together to make the pages of the section follow in their proper order. if the folding has been done carefully, and the "register" of the printing is good, the headlines should be exactly even throughout. [illustration: fig. .] the object of cutting past the centre at each fold is to avoid the unsightly creasing that results from folding two or more thicknesses of paper when joined at the top edge. a "duodecimo" sheet has the pages arranged as at fig. . the "inset" pages, , , , , must be cut off, and the rest of the section folded as for an octavo sheet. the inset is folded separately and inserted into the centre of the octavo portion. other sizes are folded in much the same way, and the principle of folding one sheet having been mastered, no difficulty will be found in folding any other. plates often require trimming, and this must be done with judgment. the plates should be trimmed to correspond as far as possible with the printing on the opposite page, but if this cannot be done, it is desirable that something approaching the proportion of margin shown at fig. (folio) should be aimed at. that is to say, the back margin should be the smallest, the head margin the next, the fore-edge a little wider, and the tail widest of all. when a plate consists of a small portrait or diagram in the centre of the page, it looks better if it is put a little higher and a little nearer the back than the actual centre. [illustration: fig. .] plates that have no numbers on them must be put in order by the list of printed plates, or "instructions to the binder." the half-title, title, dedication, &c., will often be found to be printed on odd sheets that have to be made up into section a. this preliminary matter is usually placed in the following order: half-title, title, dedication, preface, contents, list of illustrations or other lists. if there is an index, it should be put at the end of the book. all plates should be "guarded," and any "quarter sections," that is, sections consisting of two leaves, should have their backs strengthened by a "guard," or they may very easily be torn in the sewing. odd, single leaves may be guarded round sections in the same way as plates. when a book has been folded, it should be pressed (see p. ). there will sometimes be pages marked by the printer with a star. these have some error in them, and are intended to be cut out. the printer should supply corrected pages to replace them. collating in addition to the pagination each sheet or section of a printed book is lettered or numbered. each letter or number is called the "sheet's signature." printers usually leave out j w and v in lettering sheets. if there are more sections than there are letters in the alphabet, the printer doubles the letters, signing the sections a a, b b, and so on, after the single letters are exhausted. some printers use an arabic numeral before the section number to denote the second alphabet, as a, b, &c., and others change the character of the letters, perhaps using capitals for the first alphabet and italics for the second. if the sheets are numbered, the numbers will of course follow consecutively. in books of more than one volume, the number of the volume is sometimes added in roman numerals before the signature, as ii a, ii b. the main pagination of the book usually commences with chapter i., and all before that is independently paged in roman numerals. it is unusual to have actual numbers on the title or half-title, but if the pages are counted back from where the first numeral occurs, they should come right. there will sometimes be one or more blank leaves completing sections at the beginning or end. such blank leaves must be retained, as without them the volume would be "imperfect." to collate a modern book the paging must be examined to see that the leaves are in order, and that nothing is defective or missing. the method of doing this is to insert the first finger of the right hand at the bottom of about the fiftieth page, crook the finger, and turn up the corners of the pages with it. when this is done the thumb is placed on page , and the hand twisted, so as to fan out the top of the pages. they can then be readily turned over by the thumb and first finger of the left hand (see fig. ). this is repeated throughout the book, taking about fifty pages at a time. it will of course only be necessary to check the odd numbers, as if they are right, the even ones on the other side of the leaf must be so. if the pages are numbered at the foot, the leaves must be fanned out from the head. [illustration: fig. .] plates or maps that are not paged can only be checked from the printed list. when checked it will save time if the number of the page which each faces is marked on the back in small pencil figures. in the case of early printed books or manuscripts, which are often not paged, special knowledge is needed for their collation. it may roughly be said, that if the sections are all complete, that is, if there are the same number of leaves at each side of the sewing in all the sections, the book may be taken to be perfect, unless of course whole sections are missing. all unpaged books should be paged through in pencil before they are taken apart; this is best done with a very fine pencil, at the bottom left-hand corner; it will only be necessary to number the front of each leaf. pulling to pieces after the volume has been collated it must be "pulled," that is to say, the sections must be separated, and all plates or maps detached. if in a bound book there are slips laced in the front cover, they must be cut and the back torn off. it will sometimes happen that in tearing off the leather nearly all the glue will come too, leaving the backs of the pages detached except for the sewing. more usually the back will be left covered with a mass of glue and linen, or paper, which it is very difficult to remove without injury to the backs of the sections. by drawing a sharp knife along the bands, the sewing may be cut and the bands removed, leaving the sections only connected by the glue. then the sections of the book can usually be separated with a fine folder, after the thread from the centre of each has been removed; the point of division being ascertained by finding the first signature of each section. in cases where the glue and leather form too hard a back to yield to this method, it is advisable to soak the glue with paste, and when soft to scrape it off with a folder. as this method is apt to injure the backs of the sections, it should not be resorted to unless necessary; and when it is, care must be taken not to let the damp penetrate into the book, or it will cause very ugly stains. the book must be pulled while damp, or else the glue will dry up harder than before. the separated sections must be piled up carefully to prevent pages being soiled by the damp glue. all plates or single leaves "pasted on" must be removed. these can usually be detached by carefully tearing apart, but if too securely pasted they must be soaked off in water, unless of course the plates have been painted with water-colour. if the plates must be soaked off, the leaf and attached plate should be put into a pan of slightly warm water and left to soak until they float apart, then with a soft brush any remaining glue or paste can be easily removed while in the water. care must be taken not to soak modern books printed on what is called "art paper," as this paper will hardly stand ordinary handling, and is absolutely ruined if wetted. the growing use of this paper in important books is one of the greatest troubles the bookbinder has to face. the highly loaded and glazed surface of some of the heavy plate papers easily flakes off, so that any guard pasted on these plates is apt to come away, taking with it the surface of the paper. moreover, should the plates chance to be fingered or in any way soiled, nothing can remove the marks; and should a corner get turned down, the paper breaks and the corner will fall off. it is the opinion of experts that this heavily loaded art paper will not last a reasonable time, and, apart from other considerations, this should be ample reason for not using it in books that are expected to have a permanent value. printers like this paper, because it enables them to obtain brilliant impressions from blocks produced by cheap processes. in "cased" books, sewn by machinery, the head and tail of the sheets will often be found to be split up as far as the "kettle" stitches. if such a book is to be expensively bound, it will require mending throughout in these places, or the glue may soak into the torn ends, and make the book open stiffly. some books are put together with staples of tinned iron wire, which rapidly rust and disfigure the book by circular brown marks. such marks will usually have to be cut out and the places carefully mended. this process is lengthy, and consequently so costly, that it is generally cheaper, when possible, to obtain an unbound copy of the book from the publishers, than to waste time repairing the damage done by the cloth binder. generally speaking, the sections of a book cased in cloth by modern methods are so injured as to make it unfit for more permanent binding unless an unreasonable amount of time is spent on it. it is a great pity that publishers do not, in the case of books expected to have a permanent literary value, issue a certain number of copies printed on good paper, and unbound, for the use of those who require permanent bindings; and in such copies it would be a great help if sufficient margin were left at the back of the plates for the binder to turn it up to form a guard. if the plates were very numerous, guards made of the substance of the plates themselves would make the book too thick; but in the case of books with not more than a dozen plates, printed on comparatively thin paper, it would be a great advantage. some books in which there are a large number of plates are cut into single leaves, which are held together at the back by a coating of an indiarubber solution. for a short time such a volume is pleasant enough to handle, and opens freely, but before long the indiarubber perishes, and the leaves and plates fall apart. when a book of this kind comes to have a permanent binding, all the leaves and plates have to be pared at the back and made up into sections with guards--a troublesome and expensive business. the custom with binders is to overcast the backs of the leaves in sections, and to sew through the overcasting thread, but this, though an easy and quick process, makes a hopelessly stiff back, and no book so treated can open freely. refolding [illustration: fig. .--dividers] when the sheets of books that have to be rebound have been carelessly folded, a certain amount of readjustment is often advisable, especially in cases where the book has not been previously cut. the title-page and the half-title, when found to be out of square, should nearly always be put straight. the folding of the whole book may be corrected by taking each pair of leaves and holding them up to the light and adjusting the fold so that the print on one leaf comes exactly over the print on the other, and creasing the fold to make them stay in that position. with a pair of dividers (fig. ) set to the height of the shortest top margin, points the same distance above the headline of the other leaves can be made. then against a carpenter's square, adjusted to the back of the fold, the head of one pair of leaves at a time can be cut square (see fig. ). if the book has been previously cut this process is apt to throw the leaves so far out of their original position as to make them unduly uneven. [illustration: fig. .] accurate folding is impossible if the "register" of the printing is bad, that is to say, if the print on the back of a leaf does not lie exactly over that on the front. crooked plates should usually be made straight by judicious trimming of the margins. it is better to leave a plate short at tail or fore-edge than to leave it out of square. knocking out joints the old "joints" must be knocked out of the sections of books that have been previously backed. to do this, one or two sections at a time are held firmly in the left hand, and well hammered on the knocking-down iron fixed into the lying press. it is important that the hammer face should fall exactly squarely upon the paper, or it may cut pieces out. the knocking-down iron should be covered with a piece of paper, and the hammer face must be perfectly clean, or the sheets may be soiled. chapter iii guarding--throwing out--paring paper--soaking off india proofs--mounting very thin paper--splitting paper--inlaying--flattening vellum guarding guards are slips of thin paper or linen used for strengthening the fold of leaves that are damaged, or for attaching plates or single leaves. guards should be of good thin paper. that known as whatman's banknote paper answers very well. an easy way to cut guards is shown in fig. . two or three pieces of paper of the height of the required guards are folded and pinned to the board by the right-hand corners. a series of points are marked at the head and tail with dividers set to the width desired for the guards, and with a knife guided by a straight-edge, cuts joining the points are made right through the paper, but not extending quite to either end. on a transverse cut being made near the bottom, the guards are left attached by one end only (see fig. ), and can be torn off as wanted. this method prevents the paper from slipping while it is being cut. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] a mount cutter's knife (fig. ) will be found to be a convenient form of knife to use for cutting guards. in using the knife and straight-edge a good deal of pressure should be put on the straight-edge, and comparatively little on the knife. [illustration: fig. .--mount cutter's knife] to mend the torn back of a pair of leaves, a guard should be selected a little longer than the height of the pages and well pasted with white paste (see page ). if the pair of leaves are not quite separated, the pasted guard held by its extremities may be simply laid along the weak place and rubbed down through blotting-paper. if the leaves are quite apart, it is better to lay the pasted guard on a piece of glass and put the edges of first one and then the other leaf on to it and rub down. on an outside pair of leaves the guard should be inside, so that the glue may catch any ragged edges; while on the inside pair the guard should be outside, or it will be found to be troublesome in sewing. in handling the pasted guards care is needed not to stretch them, or they may cause the sheet to crinkle as they dry. [illustration: fig. .] plates must be guarded round the sections next them. when there are a great many plates the back margin of each, to which a guard will be attached, must be pared (see fig. , a), or the additional thickness caused by the guards will make the back swell unduly. in guarding plates a number can be pasted at once if they are laid one on another, with about an eighth of an inch of the back of each exposed, the top of the pile being protected by a folded piece of waste paper (see fig. ). to paste, the brush is brought from the top to the bottom of the pile only, and not the other way, or paste will get between the plates and soil them. guards should usually be attached to the backs of plates, and should be wide enough to turn up round the adjoining section, so that they may be sewn through. should a plate come in the middle of a section, the guard is best turned back and slightly pasted to the inside of the sheet and then sewn through in the ordinary way. [illustration: fig. .] if plates are very thick, they must be hinged, as shown at fig. , b. this is done by cutting a strip of about a quarter of an inch off the back of the plate, and guarding with a wide guard of linen, leaving a small space between the plate and the piece cut off to form a hinge. it will save some swelling if the plate is pared and a piece of thinner paper substituted for the piece cut off (see fig. , c). if the plates are of cardboard, they should be guarded on both sides with linen, and may even need a second joint. a book that consists entirely of plates or single leaves must be made up into sections with guards, and sewn as usual. in books in which there are a great many plates, it is often found that two plates either come together in the centre of a section, or come at opposite sides of the same pair of leaves. such plates should be guarded together and treated as folded sheets (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. .] in order to be sure that the pages of a book to be guarded throughout will come in their proper order, it is well to make a plan of the sections as follows, and to check each pair of leaves by it, as they are guarded:-- thus, if the book is to be made up into sections of eight leaves, the pairs of leaves to be guarded together can be seen at once if the number of the pages are written out-- , , , ,-- , , , . first the inside pair, and , are guarded together with the guard outside, then the next pair, and , then and , and then the outside pair, and , which should have the guard outside. a plan for the whole book would be more conveniently written thus-- - - - - - - - - - - - - , and so on. to arrange a book of single leaves for guarding, it is convenient to take as many leaves as you intend to go to a section, and opening them in the centre, take a pair at a time as they come. the number of leaves it is advisable to put into a section will depend on the thickness of the paper and the size and thickness of the book. if the paper is thick, and the backs of the leaves have been pared, four leaves to a section will be found to answer. but if the paper is thin, and does not allow of much paring, it is better to have a larger section, in order to have as little thread in the back as possible. the sheets of any guarded book should be pressed before sewing, in order to reduce the swelling of the back caused by the guards. throwing out [illustration: fig. .] maps or diagrams that are frequently referred to in the text of a book, should be "thrown out" on a guard as wide as the sheet of the book. such maps, &c., should be placed at the end, so that they may lie open for reference while the book is being read (see fig. ). large folded maps or diagrams should be mounted on linen. to do this take a piece of jaconet and pin it out flat on the board, then evenly paste the back of the map with thin paste in which there are no lumps, and lay it on the linen, rub down through blotting-paper, and leave to dry. unless the pasting is done evenly the marks of the paste-brush will show through the linen. if a folded map is printed on very thick paper each fold must be cut up, and the separate pieces mounted on the linen, with a slight space between them to form a flexible joint. [illustration: fig. .] a folded map must have in the back of the book sufficient guards to equal it in thickness at its thickest part when folded, or the book will not shut properly (see fig. ). paring paper for paring the edge of paper for mending or guarding, take a very sharp knife, and holding the blade at right angles to the covering-board, draw the edge once or twice along it from left to right. this should turn up enough of the edge to form a "burr," which causes the knife to cut while being held almost flat on the paper. the plate or paper should be laid face downwards on the glass with the edge to be pared away from the workman, the knife held in the right hand, with the burr downwards. the angle at which to hold the knife will depend on its shape and on the thickness and character of the paper to be pared, and can only be learned by practice. if the knife is in order, and is held at the proper angle, the shaving removed from a straight edge of paper should come off in a long spiral. if the knife is not in proper order, the paper may be badly jagged or creased. soaking off india proofs place a piece of well-sized paper in a pan of warm water, then lay the mounted india proof, face downwards, upon it and leave it to soak until the proof floats off. then carefully take out the old mount, and the india proof can be readily removed from the water on the under paper, and dried between sheets of blotting-paper. mounting very thin paper very thin paper, such as that of some "india" proofs, may be safely mounted as follows:--the mount, ready for use, is laid on a pad of blotting-paper. the thin paper to be mounted is laid face downwards on a piece of glass and very carefully pasted with thin, white paste. any paste on the glass beyond the edges of the paper is carefully wiped off with a clean cloth. the glass may then be turned over, and the pasted plate laid on the mount, its exact position being seen through the glass. splitting paper it is sometimes desirable to split pieces of paper when the matter on one side only is needed, or when the matter printed on each side is to be used in different places. the paper to be split should be well pasted on both sides with a thickish paste, and fine linen or jaconet placed on each side. it is then nipped in the press to make the linen stick all over, and left to dry. if the two pieces of jaconet are carefully pulled apart when dry, half the paper should be attached to each, unless at any point the paste has failed to stick, when the paper will tear. the jaconet and paper attached must be put into warm water until the split paper floats off. inlaying leaves or plates [illustration: fig. .] when a small plate or leaf has to be inserted into a larger book, it is best to "inlay it"; that is to say, the plate or leaf is let into a sheet of paper the size of the page of the book. to do this, a piece of paper as thick as the plate to be inlaid, or a little thicker, is selected, and on this is laid the plate, which should have been previously squared, and the positions of the corners marked with a folder. a point is made about an eighth of an inch inside each corner mark, and the paper within these points is cut out (see fig. ). this leaves a frame of paper, the inner edges of which will slightly overlap the edges of the plate. the under edge of the plate, and the upper edge of the mount, should then be pared and pasted, and the plate laid in its place (with the corners corresponding to the folder marks). if the edges have been properly pared, the thickness where they overlap should not exceed the thickness of the frame paper. if an irregular fragment is to be inlaid, it is done in the same way, except that the entire outline is traced on the new paper with a folder, and the paper cut away, allowing one eighth of an inch inside the indented line. flattening vellum the leaves of a vellum book that have become cockled from damp or other causes may be flattened by damping them, pulling them out straight, and allowing them to dry under pressure. to do this take the book to pieces, clean out any dirt there may be in the folds of the leaves, and spread out each pair of leaves as flatly as possible. damp some white blotting-paper by interleaving it with common white paper that has been wetted with a sponge. one sheet of wet paper to two of blotting-paper will be enough. the pile of blotting-paper and wet paper is put in the press and left for an hour or two under pressure, then taken out and the common paper removed. the blotting-paper should now be slightly and evenly damp. to flatten the vellum the open pairs of leaves are interleaved with the slightly damp blotting-paper, and are left for an hour under the weight of a pressing-board. after this time the vellum will have become quite soft, and can with care be flattened out and lightly pressed between the blotting-paper, and left for a night. the next day the vellum leaves should be looked at to see that they lie quite flat, and the blotting-paper changed for some that is dry. the vellum must remain under pressure until it is quite dry, or it will cockle up worse than ever when exposed to the air. the blotting-paper should be changed every day or two. the length of time that vellum leaves take to dry will vary with the state of the atmosphere, and the thickness of the vellum, from one to six weeks. almost any manuscript or printed book on vellum can be successfully flattened in this way; miniatures should have pieces of waxed paper laid over them to prevent the chance of any of the fibres of the blotting-paper sticking. the pressure must not be great; only enough is needed to keep the vellum flat as it dries. this process of flattening, although so simple, requires the utmost care. if the blotting-paper is used too damp, a manuscript may be ruined; and if not damp enough, the pressing will have no effect. chapter iv sizing--washing--mending sizing the paper in old books is sometimes soft and woolly. this is generally because the size has perished, and such paper can often be made perfectly sound by resizing. [illustration: fig. .] for size, an ounce of isinglass or good gelatine is dissolved in a quart of water. this should make a clear solution when gently warmed, and should be used at about a temperature of ° f. care must be taken not to heat too quickly, or the solution may burn and turn brown. if the size is not quite clear, it should be strained through fine muslin or linen before being used. when it is ready it should be poured into an open pan (fig. ), so arranged that it can be kept warm by a gas flame or spirit lamp underneath. when this is ready the sheets to be sized can be put in one after another and taken out at once. the hot size will be found to take out a great many stains, and especially those deep brown stains that come from water. if there are only a few sheets, they can be placed between blotting-paper as they are removed from the size; but if there is a whole book, it is best to lay them in a pile one on the other, and when all have been sized to squeeze them in the "lying press" between pressing-boards, a pan being put underneath to catch the liquid squeezed out. when the sheets have been squeezed they can be readily handled, and should be spread out to dry on a table upon clean paper. when they are getting dry and firm they can be hung on strings stretched across the room, slightly overlapping one another. the strings must first be covered with slips of clean paper, and the sized sheets should have more paper over them to keep them clean. before sizing it will be necessary to go through a book and take out any pencil or dust marks that can be removed with indiarubber or bread crumbs, or the size will fix them, and it will be found exceedingly difficult to remove them afterwards. when the sheets are dry they should be carefully mended in any places that may be torn, and folded up into sections and pressed. a long, comparatively light pressure will be found to flatten them better and with less injury to the surface of the paper than a short, very heavy pressure, such as that of the rolling-machine. in some cases it will be found that sheets of old books are so far damaged as to be hardly strong enough to handle. such sheets must be sized in rather a stronger size in the following way:--take a sheet of heavily-sized paper, such as notepaper, and carefully lay your damaged sheet on that. then put another sheet of strong paper on the top, and put all three sheets into the size. it will be found that the top sheet can then be easily lifted off, and the size be made to flow over the face of the damaged sheet. then, if the top sheet be put on again, the three sheets, if handled as one, can be turned over and the operation repeated, and size induced to cover the back of the damaged leaf. the three sheets must then be taken out and laid between blotting-paper to take up the surplus moisture. the top sheet must then be carefully peeled off, and the damaged page laid face downwards on clean blotting-paper. then the back sheet can be peeled off as well, leaving the damaged sheet to dry. the following is quoted from "chambers' encyclopædia" on gelatine:-- "gelatine should never be judged by the eye alone. "its purity may be very easily tested thus: soak it in cold water, then pour upon it a small quantity of boiling water. if pure, it will form a thickish, clear straw-coloured solution, free from smell; but if made of impure materials, it will give off a very offensive odour, and have a yellow, gluey consistency." washing when there are stains or ink marks on books that cannot be removed by the use of hot size or hot water, stronger measures may sometimes have to be taken. many stains will be found to yield readily to hot water with a little alum in it, and others can be got out by a judicious application of curd soap with a very soft brush and plenty of warm water. but some, and especially ink stains, require further treatment. there are many ways of washing paper, and most of those in common use are extremely dangerous, and have in many cases resulted in the absolute destruction of fine books. if it is thought to be absolutely necessary that the sheets of a book should be washed, the safest method is as follows:--take an ounce of permanganate of potash dissolved in a quart of water, and warmed slightly. in this put the sheets to be washed, and leave them until they turn a dark brown. this will usually take about an hour, but may take longer for some papers. then turn the sheets out and wash them in running water until all trace of purple stain disappears from the water as it comes away. then transfer them to a bath of sulphurous (not sulphuric) acid and water in the proportion of one ounce of acid to one pint of water. the sheets in this solution will rapidly turn white, and if left for some time nearly all stains will be removed. in case any stains refuse to come out, the sheets should be put in clear water for a short time, and then placed in the permanganate of potash solution again, and left there for a longer time than before; then after washing in clear water, again transferred to the sulphurous acid. when sheets are removed from the sulphurous acid they should be well washed for an hour or two in running water, and then may be blotted or squeezed off and hung up on lines to dry. any sheets treated in this way will require sizing afterwards. and if, as is often the case, only a few sheets at the beginning or end of the book have to be washed, it will be necessary to tone down the washed sheets to match the rest of the book by putting some stain in the size. for staining there are many things used. a weak solution of permanganate of potash gives a yellowish stain that will be found to match many papers. other stains are used, such as coffee, chicory, tea, liquorice, &c. whatever is used should be put in the size. to ascertain that the right depth of colour has been obtained, a piece of unsized paper, such as white blotting-paper, is dipped in the stained size and blotted off and dried before the fire. it is impossible to judge of the depth of colour in a stain unless the test piece is thoroughly dried. if the stain is not right, add more water or more stain as is needed. experience will tell what stain to use to match the paper of any given book. to remove grease or oil stains, ether may be used. pour it freely in a circle round the spot, narrowing the circle gradually until the stain is covered. then apply a warm iron through a piece of blotting-paper. ether should only be used in a draught in a well-ventilated room on account of its well-known inflammable and anæsthetical properties. a very dilute (about one per cent.) solution of pure hydrochloric acid in cold water will be found to take out some stains if the paper is left in it for some hours. when the paper is removed from the solution, it must be thoroughly washed in running water. it is important that the hydrochloric acid used should be pure, as the commercial quality (spirits of salts) often contains sulphuric acid. the following recipes are quoted from _de l'organisation et de l'administration des bibliothèques, par jules cusin_:-- to remove stains from paper:--"_mud stains._--to take away these kinds of stains, spread some soap jelly very evenly over the stained places, and leave it there for thirty or forty minutes, according to the depth of the stain. then dip the sheet in clean water, and then having spread it on a perfectly clean table, remove the soap lightly with a hog's hair brush or a fine sponge; all the mud will disappear at the same time. put the sheet into the clear water again, to get rid of the last trace of soap. let it drain a little, press it lightly between two sheets of blotting-paper, and finish by letting it dry slowly in a dry place in the shade. "_stains of tallow, stearine, or fat._--to take away these stains cover them with blotting-paper and pass over them a warm flat-iron. when the paper has soaked up the grease, change it and repeat the operation until the stains have been sufficiently removed. after that, touch both sides of the sheets where they have been stained with a brush dipped in essence of turpentine heated to boiling-point. then to restore the whiteness of the paper, touch the places which were stained with a piece of fine linen soaked in purified spirits of wine warmed in the water-bath. this method may also be employed to get rid of sealing-wax stains. "_oil stains._--make a mixture of gr. of soap, gr. of clay, gr. of quicklime, and sufficient water to make it of the right consistency, spread a thin layer of this on the stain, and leave it there about a quarter of an hour. then dip the sheet in a bath of hot water; take it out, and let it dry slowly. "you can also use the following method, generally employed for finger-marks:-- "_finger-marks._--these stains are sometimes very obstinate. still they can generally be mastered by the following method:--spread over them a layer of white soap jelly (_savon blanc en gelée_), and leave it there for some hours. then remove this with a fine sponge dipped in hot water, and more often than not all the dirt disappears at the same time. if this treatment is not sufficient, you might replace the soap jelly by soft soap (_savon noir_), but you must be careful not to leave it long on the printing, which might decompose and run, and that would do more harm than good." sheets of very old books are best left with the stains of age upon them, excepting, perhaps, such as can be removed with hot water or size. nearly all stains _can_ be removed, but in the process old paper is apt to lose more in character than it gains in appearance. mending for mending torn sheets of an old book, some paper that matches as nearly as possible must be found. for this purpose it is the custom for bookbinders to collect quantities of old paper. if a piece of the same tone cannot be found, paper of similar texture and substance may be stained to match. supposing a corner to be missing, and a piece of paper to have been found that matches it, the torn page is laid over the new paper in such a way that the wire marks on both papers correspond. then the point of a folder should be drawn along the edge of the torn sheet, leaving an indented line on the new paper. the new paper should then be cut off about an eighth of an inch beyond the indented line, and the edge carefully pared up to the line. the edge of the old paper must be similarly pared, so that the two edges when laid together will not exceed the thickness of the rest of the page. it is well to leave a little greater overlap at the edges of the page. both cut edges must then be well pasted with white paste and rubbed down between blotting-paper. to ensure a perfectly clean joint the pasted edge should not be touched with the hand, and pasting-paper, brushes, and paste must be perfectly clean. in the case of a tear across the page, if there are any overlapping edges, they may merely be pasted together and the end of the tear at the edge of the paper strengthened by a small piece of pared paper. if the tear crosses print, and there are no overlapping edges, either tiny pieces of pared paper may be cut and laid across the tear between the lines of print, or else a piece of the thinnest japanese paper, which is nearly transparent, may be pasted right along the tear over the print; in either case the mend should be strengthened at the edge of the page by an additional thickness of paper. in cases where the backs of the sections have been much damaged, it will be necessary to put a guard the entire length, or in the case of small holes, to fill them in with pieces of torn paper. the edges of any mend may, with great care, be scraped with a sharp knife having a slight burr on the under side, and then rubbed lightly with a piece of worn fine sand-paper, or a fragment of cuttle-fish bone. care must be taken not to pare away too much, and especially not to weaken the mend at the edges of the sheet. as a general rule, the new mending paper should go on the back of a sheet. sometimes it is thought necessary to fill up worm-holes in the paper. this may be done by boiling down some paper in size until it is of a pulpy consistency, and a little of this filled into the worm-holes will re-make the paper in those places. it is a very tedious operation, and seldom worth doing. mending vellum is done in much the same way as mending paper, excepting that a little greater overlap must be left. it is well to put a stitch of silk at each end of a vellum patch, as you cannot depend on paste alone holding vellum securely. the overlapping edges must be well roughed up with a knife to make sure that the paste will stick. a cut in a vellum page is best mended with fine silk with a lacing stitch (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. .] mending is most easily done on a sheet of plate-glass, of which the edges and corners have been rubbed down. chapter v end papers--leather joints--pressing end papers if an old book that has had much wear is examined, it will generally be found that the leaves at the beginning and the end have suffered more than the rest of the book. on this ground, and also to enable people who must write notes in books to do so with the least injury to the book, it is advisable to put a good number of blank papers at each end. as these papers are part of the binding, and have an important protective function to perform, they should be of good quality. at all times difficulty has been found in preventing the first and last section of the book, whether end papers or not, from dragging away when the cover is opened, and various devices have been tried to overcome this defect. in the fifteenth century strips of vellum (usually cut from manuscripts) were pasted on to the back of the book and on the inside of the boards, or in some cases were merely folded round the first and last section and pasted on to the covers. the modern, and far less efficient, practice is to "overcast" the first and last sections. this is objectionable, because it prevents the leaves from opening right to the back, and it fails in the object aimed at, by merely transferring the strain to the back of the overcast section. in order to make provision for any strain there may be in opening the cover, it is better to adopt some such arrangement as shown in fig. . in this end paper the zigzag opens slightly in response to any strain. the way to make this end paper is to take a folded sheet of paper a little larger than the book. then with dividers mark two points an eighth of an inch from the back for the fold, and paste your paste-down paper, b b, up to these points (see fig. , ii). when the paste is dry, fold back the sheet (a ) over the paste-down paper, and a the reverse way, leaving the form seen in fig. , iii. a folded sheet of paper similar to a is inserted at c (fig. , v, h), and the sewing passes through this. when the book is pasted down the leaf a is torn off, and b pasted down on the board. if marbled paper is desired, the marble should be "made," that is, pasted on to b . [illustration: fig. .] there are considerable disadvantages in using marbled papers, as if they are of thick enough paper to help the strength of the binding, the "made" sheet is very stiff, and in a small book is troublesome. on no account should any marble paper be used, unless it is tough and durable. the quality of the paper of which most marbled papers are made is so poor, that it is unsuitable for use as end papers. for most books a self-coloured paper of good quality answers well for the paste-down sheets. it is a mistake to leave end papers to be pasted on after the book has been forwarded, as in that case they have little constructive value. every leaf of such an end paper as is described above will open right to the back, and the zigzag allows play for the drag of the board. paper with a conventional pattern painted or printed on it may be used for end papers. if such a design is simple, such as a sprig repeated all over, or an arrangement of stars or dots, it may look very well; but over elaborate end papers, and especially those that aim at pictorial effect, are seldom successful. ends may be made of thin vellum. if so, unless the board is very heavy, it is best to have leather joints. a single leaf of vellum (in the place of b and , ii, fig. ) should have an edge turned up into the zigzag with the leather joint, and sewn through. vellum ends must always be sewn, as it is not safe to rely upon paste to hold them. they look well, and may be enriched by tooling. the disadvantage of vellum is, that it has a tendency to curl up if subjected to heat, and when it contracts it unduly draws the boards of the book. for large manuscripts, or printed books on vellum, which are bound in wooden or other thick boards and are clasped, thicker vellum may be used for the ends; that with a slightly brown surface looks best. the part that will come into the joint should be scraped thin with a knife, and a zigzag made of japanese paper. silk or other fine woven material may be used for ends. it is best used with a leather joint, and may be stuck on to the first paper of the end papers (b , no. , fig. ), and cut with the book. the glaire of the edge gilding will help to stop the edges fraying out. in attaching silk to paper, thin glue is the best thing to use; the paper, not the silk, being glued. some little practice is needed to get sufficient glue on the paper to make the silk stick all over, and yet not to soil it. when the silk has been glued to the paper, it should be left under a light weight to dry. if put in the press, the glue may be squeezed through and the silk soiled. if the silk is very thin, or delicate in colour, or if it seems likely that it will fray out at the edges, it is better to turn the edges in over a piece of paper cut a little smaller than the page of the book and stick them down. this forms a pad, which may be attached to the first leaf of the end papers; a similar pad may be made for filling in the board. before using, the silk should be damped and ironed flat on the wrong side. silk ends give a book a rich finish, but seldom look altogether satisfactory. if the silk is merely stuck on to the first end paper, the edges will generally fray out if the book is much used. if the edges are turned in, an unpleasantly thick end is made. leather joints leather joints are pieces of thin leather that are used to cover the joints on the inside (for paring, see page ). they add very little strength to the book, but give a pleasant finish to the inside of the board. if there are to be leather joints, the end papers are made up without a , and the edge of the leather pasted and inserted at d, with a piece of common paper as a protection (see fig. , iv). when the paste is dry, the leather is folded over at e. a piece of blotting-paper may be pasted on to the inside of the waste leaf, leaving enough of it loose to go between the leather joint and the first sheet of the end paper. this will avoid any chance of the leather joint staining or marking the ends while the book is being bound. the blotting-paper, of course, is taken out with the waste sheet before the joint is pasted down. joints may also be made of linen or cloth inserted in the same way. a cloth joint has greater strength than a leather one, as the latter has to be very thin in order that the board may shut properly. with leather or cloth joints, the sewing should go through both e and f. pressing [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .--standing press] while the end papers are being made, the sections of the book should be pressed. to do this a pressing-board is taken which is a little larger than the book, and a tin, covered with common paper, placed on that, then a few sections of the book, then another tin covered with paper, and then more sections, and so on, taking care that the sections are exactly over one another (see fig. ). a second pressing-board having been placed on the last tin, the pile of sections, tins, and pressing-boards can be put into the standing-press and left under pressure till next day. newly printed plates should be protected by thin tissue paper while being pressed. any folded plates or maps, &c., or inserted letters, must either not be pressed, or have tins placed on each side of them to prevent them from indenting the adjoining leaves. [illustration: fig. .--french standing press] hand-printed books, such as the publications of the kelmscott press, should have very little pressure, or the "impression" of the print and the surface of the paper may be injured. books newly printed on vellum or heavily coloured illustrations should not be pressed at all, or the print may "set off." the protecting tissues on the plates of a book that has been printed for more than a year can generally be left out, unless the titles of the plates are printed on them, as they are a nuisance to readers and often get crumpled up and mark the book. in order to make books solid, that is, to make the leaves lie evenly and closely to one another, it was formerly the custom to beat books on a "stone" with a heavy hammer. this process has been superseded by the rolling-press; but with the admirable presses that are now to be had, simple pressing will be found to be sufficient for the "extra" binder. at fig. is shown an iron standing-press. this is screwed down first with a short bar, and finally with a long bar. this form of press is effective and simple, but needs a good deal of room for the long bar, and must have very firm supports, or it may be pulled over. at fig. is shown a french standing-press, in which the pressure is applied by a weighted wheel, which will, in the first place, by being spun round, turn the screw until it is tight, and give additional pressure by a hammering action. this press i have found to answer for all ordinary purposes, and to give as great pressure as can be got by the iron standing-press, without any undue strain on supports or workmen. there are many other forms of press by which great pressure can be applied, some working by various arrangements of cog-wheels, screws, and levers, others by hydraulic pressure. chapter vi trimming edges before sewing--edge gilding trimming before sewing when the sheets come from the press the treatment of the edges must be decided upon, that is, whether they are to be entirely uncut, trimmed before sewing, or cut in boards. early printed books and manuscripts should on no account have their edges cut at all, and any modern books of value are better only slightly trimmed and gilt before sewing. but for books of reference that need good bindings, on account of the wear they have to withstand, cutting in boards is best, as the smooth edge so obtained makes the leaves easier to turn over. gilt tops and rough edges give a book a look of unequal finish. if the edges are to remain uncut, or be cut "in boards" with the plough, the book will be ready for "marking up" as soon as it comes from the press; but if it is to be gilt before sewing, it must be first trimmed. [illustration: fig. .] the sheets for trimming with end papers and all plates inserted must first be cut square at the head against a carpenter's square (see fig. ). then a piece of mill-board may be cut to the size, it is desired to leave the leaves, and the sections trimmed to it. to do this three nails should be put into the covering board through a piece of straw-board, and the back of the section slid along nails and until it touches no. (see fig. ). the board is slid in the same way, and anything projecting beyond it cut off. when the under straw-board has become inconveniently scored in the first position, by shifting the lower nail ( ) a fresh surface will receive the cuts. fig. is a representation of a simple machine that i use in my workshop for trimming. the slides a a are adjustable to any width required, and are fixed by the screws b b. the brass-bound straight edge c fits on to slots in a a, and as this, by the adjustment of the slides, can be fixed at any distance from b b, all sizes of books can be trimmed. as by this machine several sections can be cut at once, the time taken is not very much greater than if the book were cut in the plough. [illustration: fig. .] considerable judgment is required in trimming. the edges of the larger pages only, on a previously uncut book, should be cut, leaving the smaller pages untouched. such uncut pages are called "proof," and the existence of proof in a bound book is evidence that it has not been unduly cut. before gilding the edges of the trimmed sections, any uncut folds that may remain should be opened with a folder, as if opened after gilding, they will show a ragged white edge. [illustration: fig. .] edge gilding to gild the edges of trimmed sections, the book must be "knocked up" to the fore-edge, getting as many of the short leaves as possible to the front. it is then put into the "lying press," with gilding boards on each side (see fig. no. ), and screwed up tightly. very little scraping will be necessary, and usually if well rubbed with fine sand-paper, to remove any chance finger-marks or loose fragments of paper, the edge will be smooth enough to gild. if the paper is very absorbent, the edges must be washed over with vellum size and left to dry. the next process is an application of red chalk. for this a piece of gilder's red chalk is rubbed down on a stone with water, making a thickish paste, and the edges are well brushed with a hard brush dipped in this mixture, care being taken not to have it wet enough to run between the leaves. some gilders prefer to use blacklead or a mixture of chalk and blacklead. a further brushing with a dry brush will to some extent polish the leaves. it will then be ready for an application of glaire. before glairing, the gold must be cut on the cushion to the width required (see p. ), and may be either taken up on very slightly greased paper, a gilder's tip, or with a piece of net stretched on a little frame (see fig. ). the gold leaf will adhere sufficiently to the net, and can be readily released by a light breath when it is exactly over the proper place on the edge. when the gold is ready, the glaire should be floated on to the edge with a soft brush, and the gold spread evenly over it and left until dry; that is, in a workshop of ordinary temperature, for about an hour. the edge is then lightly rubbed with a piece of leather that has been previously rubbed on beeswax, and is ready for burnishing. it is best to commence burnishing through a piece of thin slightly waxed paper to set the gold, and afterwards the burnisher can be used directly on the edge. a piece of bloodstone ground so as to have no sharp edges (see fig. ) makes a good burnisher. [illustration: fig. ] [illustration: fig. .] there are several different preparations used for gilding edges. one part of beaten up white of egg with four parts of water left to stand for a day and strained will be found to answer well. after the fore-edge is gilt the same operation is repeated at the head and tail. as it is desirable to have the gilding at the head as solid as possible, rather more scraping is advisable here, or the head may be left to be cut with a plough and gilt in boards. chapter vii marking up--sewing--materials for sewing marking up this is drawing lines across the back of the sections to show the sewer the position of the sewing cords. marking up for flexible sewing needs care and judgment, as on it depends the position of the bands on the back of the bound book. nearly all books look best with five bands, but very large, thinnish folios may have six, and a very small, thick book may look better with four. generally speaking, five is the best number. in marking up trimmed sheets for flexible sewing, the length of the back should be divided from the head into six portions, five equal, and one at the tail slightly longer. from the points so arrived at, strong pencil lines should be made across the back with a carpenter's square as guide, the book having been previously knocked up between pressing-boards, and placed in the lying press. it is important that the head should be knocked up exactly square, as otherwise the bands will be found to slope when the book is bound. in the case of a book which is to be cut and gilt in boards, before marking up it will be necessary to decide how much is to be cut off, and allowance made, or the head and tail division of the back will, when cut, be too small. it must also be remembered that to the height of the pages the amount of the "squares" will be added. about a quarter of an inch from either end of the back of a trimmed book, and a little more in the case of one that is to be cut in boards, a mark should be made for the "kettle" or "catch" stitch. this may be slightly sawn in, but before using the saw, the end papers are removed. if these were sawn, the holes would show in the joint when the ends are pasted down. if the book is to be sewn on double cords, or on slips of vellum or tape, two lines will be necessary for each band. it has become the custom to saw in the backs of books, and to sink the bands into the saw cuts, using "hollow backs," and putting false bands to appear when bound. this is a degenerate form, to which is due much of the want of durability of modern bindings. if the bands are not to show on the back, it is better to sew on tapes or strips of vellum than to use sawn-in string bands. sewing the sewing-frame need by bookbinders is practically the same now as is shown in prints of the early sixteenth century, and probably dates from still earlier times. it consists of a bed with two uprights and a crossbar, which can be heightened or lowered by the turning of wooden nuts working on a screw thread cut in the uprights (see fig. ). to set up for sewing, as many loops of cord, called "lay cords," as there are to be bands, are threaded on to the cross piece, and to these, by a simple knot, shown at fig. , cords are fastened to form the bands. the "lay cords" can be used again and again until worn out. [illustration: fig. .] to fasten the cord below, a key is taken (see fig. ) and held below the press by the right hand; the cord is then pulled up round it by the left, and held in position on the key by the first finger of the right hand. the key is then turned over, winding up a little of the string, and the prongs slipped over the main cord. it is then put through the slit in the bed of the sewing-press, with the prongs away from the front. the cord is then cut off, and the same operation repeated for each band. when all the bands have been set up, the book is laid against them, and they are moved to correspond with the marks previously made on the back of the book, care being taken that they are quite perpendicular. if they are of the same length and evenly set up, on screwing up the crossbar they should all tighten equally. it will be found to be convenient to set up the cords as far to the right hand of the press as possible, as then there will be room for the sewer's left arm on the inner side of the left hand upright. a roll of paper that will exactly fill the slot in the sewing-frame is pushed in in front of the upright cords to steady them and ensure that they are all in the same plane. when the sewing-frame is ready, with the cords set up and adjusted, the book must be collated to make sure that neither sheets nor plates have been lost or misplaced during the previous operations. plates need special care to see that the guards go properly round the sheets next them. [illustration: fig. .] the top back corner, on front and back waste end paper, should be marked. when this has been done, and all is found to be in order, the book is laid on a pressing-board behind the sewing-frame, the fore-edge towards the sewer, and the front end paper uppermost. as it is difficult to insert the needle into a section placed on the bed of the sewing-frame, it will be found convenient to sew upon a largish pressing-board, which will lie on the bed of the frame, and may have small catches to prevent it from shifting. when the board is in place, the first section (end paper) is taken in the left hand and turned over, so that the marks on the back come in the proper places against the strings. the left hand is inserted into the place where the sewing is to be, and with the right hand a needle and thread is passed through the kettle stitch mark (see fig. ). it is grasped by the fingers of the left hand, is passed out through the back at the first mark on the left-hand side of the first upright cord, and pulled tight, leaving a loose end of thread at the kettle stitch. then with the right hand it is inserted again in the same place, but from the other side of the cord, and so on round all five bands, and out again at the kettle stitch mark at the tail, using right and left hands alternately. the centre of the next section is then found, and it is sewn in the same way from tail to head, the thread being tied to the loose end hanging from the first kettle stitch. another section is laid on and sewn, but when the kettle stitch is reached, the under thread is caught up in the way shown in fig. . these operations are repeated throughout the whole book. if the back seems likely to swell too much, the sections can be lightly tapped down with a loaded stick made for the purpose, care being taken not to drive the sections inwards, as it is difficult to get such sections out again. when all the sheets and the last end paper have been sewn on, a double catch stitch is made, and the end cut off. this method is known as flexible sewing "all along." [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] when one needle full of thread is exhausted, another is tied on, making practically a continuous length of thread going all along each section and round every band. the weaver's knot is the best for joining the lengths of thread. a simple way of tying it is shown at fig. . a simple slip knot is made in the end of the new thread and put over the end of the old, and, on being pulled tight, the old thread should slip through, as shewn at b. the convenience of this knot is, that by its use a firm attachment can be made quite close up to the back of the book. this is a great advantage, as if the knot is made at some distance from the back, it will have to be dragged through the section two or three times, instead of only once. the knot, after having been made, must be pulled inside the section, and remain there. considerable judgment is required in sewing. if a book is sewn too loosely, it is almost impossible to bind it firmly; and if too tightly, especially if the kettle stitches have been drawn too tight, the thread may break in "backing," and the book have to be resewn. one way to avoid having too much swelling in the back of a book consisting of a great many very thin sections is to sew "two sheets on." in this form of sewing two sections at a time are laid on the sewing-frame. the thread is inserted at the "kettle stitch" of the lower section, and brought out as usual at the first cord, but instead of being reinserted into the lower section, it is passed into the upper one, and so on, alternately passing into the upper and lower sections. this will give, if there are five bands, three stitches in each section instead of six, as there would be if the sewing were "all along," lessening the thread, consequently the swelling by half. it is usual to sew the first and last few sections "all along." the common method of sewing is to make saw cuts in the back, in which thin cords can be sunk, and the thread merely passes behind them and not round them, as in flexible sewing. this method, although very quick and cheap, is not to be recommended, on account of the injury done to the backs of the sections by the saw, and because the glue running into the saw cuts is apt to make the back stiff, and to prevent the book from opening right to the back. indeed, were a sawn-in book to open right to the back, as it is expected a flexibly-sewn book will do, showing the sewing along the centre of each section, the saw marks with the band inserted would show, and be a serious disfigurement. mediæval books were usually sewn on double cords or strips of leather, and the headband was often sewn at the same time, as shown at fig. , a. this is an excellent method for very large books with heavy sections, and is specially suitable for large vellum manuscripts, in many of which the sections are very thick. an advantage of this method is, that the twist round the double cord virtually makes a knot at every band, and should a thread at any place break, there is no danger of the rest of the thread coming loose. this is the only mode of sewing by which a thread runs absolutely from end to end of the sections. the headband sewn at the same time, and so tied down in every section, is firmer and stronger than if worked on in the way now usual. in the fifteenth century it was the custom to lace the ends of the headbands into the boards in the same way as the other bands. this method, while giving additional strength at the head and tail, and avoiding the somewhat unfinished look of the cut-off ends of the modern headband, is, on the whole, of doubtful advantage, as it is necessary to cut the "turn in" at the point where strength in the leather is much wanted. at fig. is shown in section the three methods of sewing mentioned. a is the old sewing round double bands; with the headbands worked at the same time with the same thread; b is the modern flexible sewing, and c the common sawn-in method. [illustration: fig. .] books that are very thin or are to be bound in vellum, are best sewn on tapes or vellum slips. the easiest way to set up the sewing-frame for such sewing is to sling a piece of wood through two of the lay cords, and to pin one end of the vellum or tape band round this, pull the other end tight, and secure it with a drawing-pin underneath the frame. the sewing, in the case of such flat bands, would not go round, but only across them. to avoid undue looseness, every three or four threads may be caught up at the back of the band, as shown in fig. . [illustration: fig. .] materials for sewing the cord used should be of the best hemp, specially made with only two strands of very long fibres to facilitate fraying out. for very large books where a double cord is to be used, the best water line will be found to answer, care being taken to select that which can be frayed out. if tape is used it should be unbleached, such as the sailmakers use. thread should also be unbleached, as the unnecessary bleaching of most bookbinder's sewing-thread seems to cause it to rot in a comparatively short time. silk of the best quality is better than any thread. the ligature silk, undyed, as used by surgeons, is perhaps the strongest material, and can be had in various thicknesses. it is impossible to pay too great attention to the selection of sewing materials, as the permanency of the binding depends on their durability. the rebinding of valuable books is at best a necessary evil, and anything that makes frequent rebinding necessary, is not only objectionable on account of the cost involved, but because it seriously shortens the life of the book. experience is required to judge what thickness of thread to use for any given book. if the sections are very thin, a thin thread must be used, or the "swelling" of the back caused by the additional thickness of the thread in that part will be excessive, and make the book unmanageable in "backing." on the other hand, if the sections are large, and a too thin thread is used, there will not be enough swelling to make a firm "joint." broadly speaking, when there are a great many very thin sections, the thinnest thread may be used; and coarser thread may be used when the sections are thicker, or fewer in number. in the case of large manuscripts on vellum it is best to use very thick silk, or even catgut. vellum is so tough and durable, that any binding of a vellum book should be made as if it were expected to last for hundreds of years. in selecting the thickness of cord for a book, some judgment is required. on an old book the bands are best made rather prominent by the use of thick cord, but the exact thickness to be used is a matter for taste and experience to decide. a very thick band on a small book is clumsy, while a very thin band on the back of a heavy book suggests weakness, and is therefore unsightly. in bindings of early printed books and manuscripts an appearance of great strength is better than extreme neatness. when the sewing is completed, the cords are cut off close to the lay cords, and then the keys will be loose enough to be easily removed. the knots remaining on the lay bands are removed, and the keys slung through one of them. chapter viii fraying out slips--glueing up--rounding and backing fraying out slips and glueing up after sewing, the book should be looked through to see that all sheets and plates have been caught by the thread, and special attention should be given to end papers to see that the sewing lies evenly. the ends of the cords should next be cut off to within about two inches of the book on each side, and the free portions frayed out. if proper sewing cord is used, this will be found to be very easily done, if a binder's bodkin is first inserted between the two strands, separating them, and then again in the centre of each separated strand to still further straighten the fibres (see fig. ). the fraying out of the thick cord recommended for heavy books is a more difficult operation, but with a little trouble the fibres of any good cord can be frayed out. vellum or tape bands will only require cutting off, leaving about two inches free on each side. the free parts of the bands are called slips. [illustration: fig. .] the book is now ready for glueing up. a piece of waste mill-board or an old cloth cover is put on each side over the slips, and the book knocked up squarely at the back and head. then it is lowered into the lying press and screwed up, leaving the back with the protecting boards projecting about three-quarters of an inch. if the back has too much swelling in it or is spongy, it is better to leave the slips on one side free and to pull them as tight as possible while the book is held in the press, or a knocking-down iron may be placed on one side of the projecting back and the other side tapped with the backing hammer to make the sections lie close to one another, and then the slips pulled straight (fig. ). the back must now be glued. the glue for this operation must be hot, and not too thick. it is very important that it should be worked well between the sections with the brush, and it is well after it has been applied to rub the back with a finger or folder to make quite sure that the glue goes between every section for its entire length. if the book is too tightly screwed up in the press, the glue is apt to remain too much on the surface; and if not tightly enough, it may penetrate too deeply between the sections. if the glue is thick, or stringy, it may be diluted with hot water and the glue-brush rapidly spun round in the glue-pot to break it up and to make it work freely. [illustration: fig. .] very great care is needed to see that the head of a previously trimmed book is knocked up exactly square before the back is glued, for if it is not, it will be very difficult to get it even afterwards. rounding and backing the amount of rounding on the back of a book should be determined by the necessities of the case; that is to say, a back that has, through guarding, or excess of sewing, a tendency to be round, is best not forced to be flat, and a back that would naturally be flat, is best not forced to be unduly round. a very round back is objectionable where it can be avoided, because it takes up so much of the back margins of the sheets, and is apt to make the book stiff in opening. on the other hand, a back that is quite flat has to be lined up stiffly, or it may become concave with use. [illustration: fig. .] the method of rounding is to place the book with the back projecting a little over the edge of the press or table, then to draw the back over towards the workman, and, while in this position, to tap it carefully with a hammer (see fig. ). this is repeated on the other side of the book, and, if properly done, will give the back an even, convex form that should be in section, a portion of a circle. rounding and backing are best done after the glue has ceased to be tacky, but before it has set hard. [illustration: fig. .] backing is perhaps the most difficult and important operation in forwarding. the sewing threads in the back cause that part to be thicker than the rest of the book. thus in a book with twenty sections there will be in the back, in addition to the thickness of the paper, twenty thicknesses of thread. if the boards were laced on to the book without rounding or backing, and the book were pressed, the additional thickness of the back, having to go somewhere, would cause it to go either convex or concave, or else perhaps to crease up (see fig. ). the object of rounding is to control the distribution of this swelling, and to make the back take an even and permanently convex form. [illustration: fig. .] if the boards were merely laced on after rounding, there would be a gap between the square ends of the board and the edge of the back (see fig. ), though the convexity and even curve of the back would be to some extent assured. what is done in backing is to make a groove, into which the edges of the board will fit neatly, and to hammer the backs of the sections over one another from the centre outwards on both sides to form the "groove," to ensure that the back shall return to the same form after the book has been opened. [illustration: fig. .] to back the book, backing boards are placed on each side (leaving the slips outside) a short distance below the edge of the back (fig. ). the amount to leave here must be decided by the thickness of the boards to be used. when the backing boards are in position, the book and boards must be carefully lowered into the lying press and screwed up very tight, great care being taken to see that the boards do not slip, and that the book is put in evenly. even the most experienced forwarder will sometimes have to take a book out of the press two or three times before he gets it in quite evenly and without allowing the boards to slip. unless the back has a perfectly even curve when put in the press for backing, no amount of subsequent hammering will put it permanently right. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the backs of the sections should be evenly fanned out one over the other from the centre outwards on both sides. this is done by side strokes of the hammer, in fact by a sort of "riveting" blow, and not by a directly crushing blow (see fig. , in which the arrows show the direction of the hammer strokes). if the sections are not evenly fanned out from the centre, but are either zigzagged by being crushed by direct blows of the hammer, as shown in fig. , a, or are unevenly fanned over more to one side than the other, as shown in fig. , b, the back, although it may be even enough when first done, will probably become uneven with use. a book in which the sections have been crushed down, as at fig. , a, will be disfigured inside by creases in the paper. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] it is a mistake to suppose that a very heavy hammer is necessary for backing any but the largest books. for flexible books a hammer with a comparatively small face should be used, as by its use the book can be backed without flattening the bands. it is well to have a hammer head of the shape shown in fig. . by using the thin end, the force of a comparatively light blow, because concentrated on a small surface, is effective. at fig. is shown an ordinary backing hammer. chapter ix cutting and attaching boards--cleaning off back--pressing cutting and attaching boards the first quality of the best black board made from old rope is the best to use for "extra" binding. it will be found to be very hard, and not easily broken or bent at the corners. in selecting the thickness suitable for any given book, the size and thickness of the volume should be taken into account. the tendency of most modern binders is to use a rather over thick board, perhaps with a view to bulk out the volume. for manuscripts, or other books on vellum, it is best to use wooden boards, which should be clasped. from their stability they form a kind of permanent press, in which the vellum leaves are kept flat. in a damp climate like that of england, vellum, absorbing moisture from the atmosphere, soon cockles up unless it is held tightly in some way; and when it is once cockled, the book cannot be made to shut properly, except with very special treatment. then also dust and damp have ready access to the interstices of the crinkled pages, resulting in the disfigurement so well known and so deplored by all lovers of fine books. for large books a "made" board, that is, two boards pasted together, is better than a single board of the same thickness. in making boards a thin and a thick board should be pasted together, the thin board to go nearest the book. it will not be necessary to put a double lining on the inside of such boards, as a thin board will always draw a thick one. [illustration: fig. .] if mill-boards are used they are first cut roughly to size with the mill-board shears, screwed up in the "lying" press. the straight arm of the shears is the one to fix in the press, for if the bent arm be undermost, the knuckles are apt to be severely bruised against the end. a better way of fixing the shears is shown at fig. . any blacksmith will bend the arm of the shears and make the necessary clips. this method saves trouble and considerable wear and tear to the "lying" press. where a great many boards are needed, they may be quickly cut in a board machine, but for "extra" work they should be further trimmed in the plough, in the same way as those cut by the shears. after the boards have been roughly cut to size, they should have one edge cut straight with the plough. to do this one or two pairs of boards are knocked up to the back and inserted in the cutting side of the press, with those edges projecting which are to be cut off, and behind them, as a "cut against," a board protected by a waste piece of mill-board. the plough, held by the screw and handle, and guided by the runners on the press, is moved backwards and forwards. a slight turn of the screw at each movement brings the knife forward. in cutting mill-boards which are very hard, the screw should be turned very little each time. if press and plough are in proper order, that part of the board which projects above the cheek of the press should be cut off, leaving the edges perfectly square and straight. if the edge of the press has been damaged, or is out of "truth," a cutting board may be used between the cheek of the press and the board to be cut, making a true edge for the knife to run on. [illustration: fig. .--lying or cutting press] the position of the plough on the press is shown at fig. . the side of the press with runners should be reserved for cutting, the other side used for all other work. [illustration: fig. .] the plough knife for mill-boards should not be ground at too acute an angle, or the edge will most likely break away at the first cut. the shape shown at fig. is suitable. the knife should be very frequently ground, as it soon gets blunt, which adds greatly to the labour of cutting. after an edge has been cut, each side should be well rubbed with a folder to smooth down any burr left by the plough knife. then a piece of common paper with one edge cut straight is pasted on to one side of the board, with the straight edge exactly up to the cut edge of the board. then a piece of paper large enough to cover both sides of the board is pasted round it, and well rubbed down at the cut edge. after having been lined, the boards are nipped in the press to ensure that the lining paper shall stick. they are stood up to dry, with the doubly lined side outwards. the double paper is intended to warp the board slightly to that side, to compensate for the pull of the leather when the book is covered. if the board is a double one, a single lining paper will be sufficient, the thinner board helping to draw the thicker. the paste for lining boards must be fairly thin, and very well beaten up so as to be free from lumps. it is of the utmost importance that the lining papers should stick properly, for unless they stick, no subsequent covering of leather or paper can be made to lie flat. when the lined boards are quite dry, they should be paired with the doubly lined sides together, and the top back corner marked to correspond with the marks on the top back corners of the book. then near the top edge, with the aid of a carpenter's square, two points are marked in a line at right angles to the cut edge. the pair of boards is then knocked up to the back and lowered into the press as before, so that the plough knife will exactly cut through the points. the same operation is repeated on the two remaining uncut edges. in marking out those for the fore-edge, the measurement is taken with a pair of compasses (fig. ) from the joint of the book to the fore-edge of the first section. if the book has been trimmed, or is to remain uncut, a little more must be allowed for the "squares," and if it is to be cut in the plough, it must be now decided how much is to be cut off, remembering that it is much better to have the boards a little too large, and so have to reduce them after the book is cut, than to have them too small, and either be obliged to get out a new pair of boards, or unduly cut down the book. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the height of the boards for a book that has been trimmed, or is to remain uncut, will be the height of the page with a small allowance at each end for the squares. when a pair of boards has been cut all round, it can be tested for squareness by reversing one board, when any inequality that there may be will appear doubled. if the boards are out of truth they should generally be put on one side, to be used for a smaller book, and new boards got out. to correct a badly cut pair of boards, it is necessary to reduce them in size, and the book consequently suffers in proportion. if the boards have been found to be truly cut, they are laid on the book, and the position of the slips marked on them by lines at right angles to the back. a line is then made parallel to the back, about half an inch in (see fig. ). at the points where the lines cross, a series of holes is punched from the front with a binder's bodkin on a lead plate, then the board is turned over, and a second series is punched from the back about half an inch from the first. if the groove of the back is shallower than the thickness of the board, the top back edge of the board should be bevelled off with a file. this will not be necessary if the groove is the exact depth. when the holes have been punched, it is well to cut a series of v-shaped depressions from the first series of holes to the back to receive the slips, or they may be too prominent when the book is bound. it will now be necessary to considerably reduce the slips that were frayed out after sewing, and to remove all glue or any other matter attached to them. the extent to which they may be reduced is a matter of nice judgment. in the desire to ensure absolute neatness in the covering, modern binders often reduce the slips to almost nothing. on the other hand, some go to the other extreme, and leave the cord entire, making great ridges on the sides of the book where it is laced in. it should be possible with the aid of the depressions, cut as described, to use slips with sufficient margin of strength, and yet to have no undue projection on the cover. a slight projection is not unsightly, as it gives an assurance of sound construction and strength, and, moreover, makes an excellent starting-point for any pattern that may be used. when the slips have been scraped and reduced, the portion left should consist of long straight silky fibres. these must be well pasted, and the ends very slightly twisted. the pointed ends are then threaded through the first series of holes in the front of the board, and back again through the second (fig. ). in lacing-in the slips must not be pulled so tight as to prevent the board from shutting freely, nor left so loose as to make a perceptible interval in the joint of the book. the pasted slips having been laced in, their ends are cut off with a sharp knife, flush with the surface of the board. the laced-in slips are then well hammered on a knocking-down iron (see fig. ), first from the front and then from the back, care being taken that the hammer face should fall squarely, or the slips may be cut. this should rivet them into the board, leaving little or no projection. if in lacing in the fibres should get twisted, no amount of hammering will make them flat, so that it is important in pointing the ends for lacing in, that only the points are twisted just sufficiently to facilitate the threading through the holes, and not enough to twist the whole slip. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] to lace slips into wooden boards, holes are made with a brace and fine twist bit, and the ends of the frayed out slips may be secured with a wooden plug (see fig. ). old books were sometimes sewn on bands of leather, but as those sewn on cord seem to have lasted on the whole much better, and as, moreover, modern cord is a far more trustworthy material than modern leather, it is better to use cord for any books bound now. [illustration: fig. .] cleaning off the back and pressing [illustration: fig. .] when the boards have been laced on and the slips hammered down, the book should be pressed. before pressing, a tin is put on each side of both boards, one being pushed right up into the joint on the inside, and the other up to the joint, or a little over it, on the outside. while in the press, the back should be covered with paste and left to soak for a few minutes. when the glue is soft the surplus on the surface can be scraped off with a piece of wood shaped as shown in fig. . for important books it is best to do this in the lying press, but some binders prefer first to build up the books in the standing press, and then to paste the backs and clean them off there. this has the advantage of being a quicker method, and will, in many cases, answer quite well. but for books that require nice adjustment it will be found better to clean off each volume separately in the lying press, and afterwards to build up the books and boards in the standing press, putting the larger books at the bottom. it must be seen that the entire pile is exactly in the centre under the screw, or the pressure will be uneven. to ascertain if the books are built up truly, the pile must be examined from both the front and side of the press. each volume must also be looked at carefully to see that it lies evenly, and that the back is not twisted or out of shape. this is important, as any form given to the book when it is pressed at this stage will be permanent. any coloured or newly printed plates will need tissues, as in the former pressing; and any folded plates or diagrams or inserted letters will need a thin tin on each side of them to prevent them from marking the book. again, the pressure on hand-printed books must not be excessive. the books should be left in the press at least a night. when taken out they will be ready for headbanding, unless the edges are to be cut in boards. chapter x cutting in boards--gilding and colouring edges cutting in boards the knife for cutting edges may be ground more acutely than for cutting boards, and should be very sharp, or the paper may be torn. the plough knife should never be ground on the under side, as if the under side is not quite flat, it will tend to run up instead of cutting straight across. before beginning to cut edges, the position of the knife should be tested carefully by screwing the plough up, with the press a little open, and noting whereabouts on the left-hand cheek the point of the knife comes. in a press that is true the knife should just clear the edge of the press. if there is too much packing the knife will cut below the edge of the press, and if too little, it will cut above. "packing" is paper inserted between the knife and the metal plate on the plough, to correct the position of the knife. when by experiment the exact thickness of paper necessary for any given knife is found, the packing should be carefully kept when the knife is taken out for grinding, and put back with it into the plough. the first edge to be cut is the top, and the first thing to do is to place the boards in the position they will hold when the book is bound. the front board is then dropped the depth of the square required, care being taken that the back edge of the board remains evenly in the joint. a piece of cardboard, or two or three thicknesses of paper, are then slipped in between the end paper and the back board to prevent the latter from being cut by the knife. the book is then carefully lowered into the press, with the back towards the workman, until the top edge of the front board is exactly even with the right-hand cheek, and the press screwed up evenly. the back board should show the depth of the square above the left-hand cheek. it is very important that the edge of the back board should be exactly parallel with the press, and if at first it is not so, the book must be twisted until it is right. the edges can now be cut with the plough as in cutting mill-boards. the tail of the book is cut in the same way, still keeping the back of the book towards the workman, but cutting from the back board. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] cutting the fore-edge is more difficult. the waste sheets at each end of the book should be cut off flush with the edge of the board, and marks made on them below the edge showing the amount of the square, and consequently how much is to be cut off. the curve of the back, and consequent curve of the fore-edge, must first be got rid of, by inserting a pair of pieces of flat steel called "trindles" (fig. ) across the back, from the inside of the boards. when these are inserted the back must be knocked quite flat, and, in the case of a heavy book, a piece of tape may be tied round the leaves (see fig. ) to keep them in position. a pair of cutting boards is placed one on each side of the leaves, the back one exactly up to the point that the edge of the board came to, and the front one as much below that point as it is desired the square of the fore-edge should be. the trindles are removed while the book is held firmly between the cutting boards by the finger and thumb; book and boards are then lowered very carefully into the press. the top edge of the front cutting board should be flush with the right-hand cheek of the press, and that of the back a square above the left-hand cheek (see fig. ). a further test is to look along the surface of the right-hand cheek, when, if the book has been inserted truly, the amount of the back cutting board in sight should exactly correspond with the amount of the paper to be cut showing above the front board. it will also be necessary before cutting to look at the back, and to see that it has remained flat. if it has gone back to its old curve, or the book has been put into the press crookedly, it must be taken right out again and the trindles inserted afresh, as it is usually a waste of time to try to adjust the book when it is in the press. the leaves are cut in the same way as those of the head and tail. [illustration: fig. .] gilding or colouring the edges of a cut book gilding the edges of a book cut in boards is much the same process as that described for the trimmed book, excepting that when gilt in boards the edges can be scraped and slightly sand-papered. it is the custom to admire a perfectly solid gilt edge, looking more like a solid sheet of metal, than the leaves of a book. as the essential characteristic of a book is, that it is composed of leaves, this fact is better accepted and emphasised by leaving the edges a little rough, so that even when gilt they are evidently the edges of leaves of paper, and not the sides of a block, or of something solid. to gild the edges of a cut book the boards should be turned back, and cutting boards put on each side of the book flush with the edge to be gilt. for the fore-edge the book must be thrown up with trindles first, unless it is desired to gild in the round, a process which gives the objectionable solid metallic edge. after the edges have been gilt they may be decorated by tooling, called "gauffering." this may be done, either by tooling with hot tools directly on the gold while the leaves are screwed up tightly in the press, or by laying another coloured gold on the top of the first and tooling over that, leaving the pattern in the new gold on the original colour. but, to my mind, edges are best left undecorated, except for plain gold or colour. if the edges are to be coloured, they should be slightly scraped, and the colour put on with a sponge, commencing with the fore-edge, which should be slightly fanned out, and held firmly, by placing a pressing-board above it, and pressing with the hand on this. the colour must be put on very thinly, commencing from the centre of the fore-edge and working to either end, and as many coats put on as are necessary to get the depth of colour required. the head and tail are treated in the same way, excepting that they cannot be fanned out, and the colour should be applied from the back to the fore-edge. if in the fore-edge an attempt is made to colour from one end to the other, and if in the head or tail from the fore-edge to the back, the result will almost certainly be that the sponge will leave a thick deposit of colour round the corner from which it starts. for colouring edges almost any stain will answer, or ordinary water-colours may be used if moistened with size. when the colour is dry the edge should be lightly rubbed over with a little beeswax, and burnished with a tooth burnisher (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. .] in addition to plain colour and gilding, the edges of a book may be decorated in a variety of ways. the fore-edge may be fanned out and painted in any device in water-colour and afterwards gilded; the painting will only show when the book is open. the fore-edge for this must be cut very solid, and if the paper is at all absorbent, must be sized with vellum size before being painted. the paints used must be simple water-colour, and the edge must not be touched with the hand before gilding, as if there is any grease or finger-mark on it, the gold will not stick evenly. painting on the fore-edge should only be attempted when the paper of the book is thin and of good quality. more common methods of decorating edges are by marbling and sprinkling, but they are both inferior to plain colouring. some pleasant effects are sometimes obtained by marbling edges and then gilding over the marbling. chapter xi headbanding headbands modern headbands are small pieces of vellum, gut, or cord sewn on to the head and tail of a book with silk or thread. they resist the strain on the book when it is taken from the shelf. the vellum slip or cord must be of such a depth, that when covered with silk it will be slightly lower than the square of the boards. the cut edge of the vellum always slants, and the slip must be placed in position so that it tilts back rather than forward on the book. to start, ease the boards slightly on the slips and pull them down with the top edges flush with the top edge of the leaves. if this is not done the silk catches on the projecting edges as the band is worked. stand the book in a finishing press, fore-edge to the worker, and tilted forward so as to give a good view of the headband as it is worked. the light must come from the left, and well on to the work. a needle threaded with silk is put in at the head of the book, and through the centre of the first section after the end papers, and drawn out at the back below the kettle stitch with about two-thirds of the silk. the needle is again inserted in the same place, and drawn through until a loop of silk is left. the vellum slip is placed in the loop, with the end projecting slightly to the left. it must be held steady by a needle placed vertically behind it, with its point between the leaves of the first section. the needle end of silk is then behind the headband, and the shorter end in front. the needle end is brought over from the back with the right hand, passed into the left hand, and held taut. the short end is picked up with the right hand, brought over the needle end under the vellum, and pulled tight from the back. this is repeated; the back thread is again drawn up and over the band to the front, the needle end crosses it, and is drawn behind under the vellum slip, and so on. the crossing of the threads form a "bead," which must be watched, and kept as tight as possible, and well down on the leaves of the book. whenever the vellum or string begins to shift in position, it must be tied down. this is done when the needle end of silk is at the back. a finger of the left hand is placed on the thread of silk at the back, and holds it firmly just below the slip. the needle end is then brought up and over the slip, but instead of crossing it with the front thread, the needle is passed between the leaves and out at the back of the book, below the kettle stitch, and the thread gradually drawn tight, and from under the left-hand finger. the loop so made will hold the band firmly, and the silk can then be brought up and over the slip and crossed in the usual way. the band should be worked as far as the end papers, and should be finished with a double "tie down," after which the front thread is drawn under the slip to the back. both the ends of silk are then cut off to about half an inch, frayed out, and pasted down as flatly as possible on the back of the book. the band should be tied down frequently. it is not too much to tie down every third time the needle end of the silk comes to the back. to make good headbands the pull on the silk must be even throughout. when the ends of the silk are pasted down, the ends of the vellum slip are cut off as near the silk as possible. the correct length of the headband is best judged by pressing the boards together with thumb and finger at the opposite ends of the band, so as to compress the sections into their final compass. if the band then buckles in the least, it is too long and must be shortened. the mediæval headbands were sewn with the other bands (see fig. ), and were very strong, as they were tied down at every section. modern worked headbands, although not so strong, are, if frequently tied down, strong enough to resist any reasonable strain. there are many other ways of headbanding, but if the one described is mastered, the various other patterns will suggest themselves if variety is needed. for very large books a double headband may be worked on two pieces of gut or string--a thick piece with a thin piece in front. the string should first be soaked in thin glue and left to dry. such a band is worked with a figure of eight stitch. headbands may also be worked with two or three shades of silk. as vellum is apt to get hard and to break when it is used for headbanding, it is well to paste two pieces together with linen in between, and to cut into strips as required. machine-made headbands can be bought by the yard. such bands are merely glued on, but as they have but little strength, should not be used. where leather joints are used, the headbands may be worked on pieces of soft leather sized and screwed up. if the ends are left long and tied in front while the book is being covered, they may be conveniently let into grooves in the boards before the leather joint is pasted down. this method, i think, has little constructive value, but it certainly avoids the rather unfinished look of the cut-off headband. chapter xii preparing for covering--paring leather--covering--mitring corners--filling-in boards preparing for covering after the headband is worked, a piece of brown or other stout paper should be well glued on at the head and tail, care being taken that it is firmly attached to the back and the headband. when dry, the part projecting above the headband is neatly cut off, and the part on the back well sand-papered, to remove any irregularity caused by the tie-downs attaching the headband. for most books this will be quite sufficient lining up, but very heavy books are best further lined up between the bands with linen, or thin leather. this can be put on by pasting the linen or leather and giving the back a very thin coat of glue. the only thing now left to do before covering will be to set the squares and to cut off a small piece of the back corner of each board at the head and tail, to make it possible for the boards to open and shut without dragging the head-cap out of place. the form of the little piece to be cut off varies with each individual binder, but i have found for an octavo book that a cut slightly sloping from the inside cutting off the corner about an eighth of an inch each way, gives the best result (see fig. ). when the corner has been cut off, the boards should be thrown back, and the slips between the book and the board well pasted. when these have soaked a little, the squares of the boards are set; that is, the boards are fixed so that exactly the same square shows on each board above head and tail. a little larger square is sometimes an advantage at the tail to keep the head-cap well off the shelf, the essential thing being that both head and both tail squares should be the same. in the case of an old book that has not been recut, the edges will often be found to be uneven. in such cases the boards must be made square, and so set that the book stands up straight. [illustration: fig. .] when the slips have been pasted and the squares set, tins can be put inside and outside the boards, and the book given a slight nip in the press to flatten the slips. only a comparatively light pressure should be given, or the lining up of the headbands or back will become cockled and detached. paring leather while the slips are being set in the press the cover can be got out. judgment is necessary in cutting out covers. one workman will be able, by careful cutting, to get six covers out of a skin where another will only get four. the firm part of the skin is the back and sides, and this only should be used for the best books. the fleshy parts on the flanks and belly will not wear sufficiently well to be suitable for good bookbinding. the skin should be cut out leaving about an inch all round for turning in when the book is covered, and when cut out it must be pared. if the leather is of european manufacture most of the paring will have been done before it is sold, and the leather manufacturer will have shaved it to any thickness required. this is a convenience that is partly responsible for the unduly thin leather that is commonly used. the better plan is to get the leather rather thick, and for the binder to pare it down where necessary. for small books it is essential, in order that the covers may open freely, and the boards not look clumsy, that the leather should be very thin at the joint and round the edges of the boards. for such books it is very important that a small, naturally thin skin should be used that will not have to be unduly pared down, and that the large and thicker skins should be kept for large books. binders like using large skins because there is much less waste, but if these skins are used for small books, so much of the leather substance has to be pared away, that only the comparatively brittle grained surface remains. by the modern process of dyeing this surface is often to some extent injured, and its strength sometimes totally destroyed. when the cover has been cut to size the book is laid on it with the boards open, and a pencil line drawn round them, a mark being made to show where the back comes. the skin is then pared, making it thin where the edge of the boards will come. great care must be taken that the thinning does not commence too abruptly, or a ridge will be apparent when the leather is on the book. the paring must be done quite smoothly and evenly. every unevenness shows when the cover is polished and pressed. care is needed in estimating the amount that will have to be pared off that part of the leather that covers the back and joints. the object of the binder should be to leave these portions as thick as he can consistently with the free opening of the boards. the leather at the head-caps must be pared quite thin, as the double thickness on the top of the headband is apt to make this part project above the edges of the board. this is a great trouble, especially at the tail, where, if the head-cap projects beyond the boards, the whole weight of the book rests on it, and it is certain to be rubbed off when the book is put on the shelf. [illustration: fig. .] the method of paring with a french knife (fig. , a)--the only form of knife in use by binders that gives sufficient control over the leather--is shown at fig. . to use this knife properly, practice is required. the main thing to learn is that the knife must be used quite flat, and made to cut by having a very slight burr on the under side. this burr is got by rubbing the knife on the lithographic stone on which the paring is done. the handle of the knife should never be raised to such a height above the surface of the stone that it is possible to get the under fingers of the right hand over the edge of the stone. another form of knife suitable for paring the edges of leather is shown at fig. , b. [illustration: fig. .] to test if the leather has been sufficiently pared, fold it over where the edge of the board will come, and run the finger along the folded leather. if the paring has been done properly it will feel quite even the whole length of the fold; but if there are any irregularities, they will be very apparent, and the paring must be gone over again till they have disappeared. when even, the book must be again laid on the leather with the boards open, and a pencil line drawn round as before. if there are leather joints they will have been pared before the book was sewn, and care must be taken in paring the turn-in of the cover that it is of the same thickness as the leather joint, or it will be impossible to make a neat mitre at the back corners. covering before covering, the book must be looked at to see that the bands are quite square and at equal distances apart. any slight errors in this respect can be corrected by holding the book in the lying press between backing boards and gently tapping the bands from one side or the other with a piece of wood struck with a hammer. this is best done when the back is cleaned off, but by damping the bands slightly it may be done just before covering. the squares must be looked to, and the edges of the board well rubbed with a folder, or tapped with a hammer, to remove any burr that may have been caused by the plough knife, or any chance blow. the back is then moistened with paste, or, in the case of a very large book, with thin glue, and left to soak. the cover can then be well pasted with thickish paste, that has been previously well beaten up. when the cover is pasted, it can be folded with the pasted sides together and left to soak for a few minutes while the back is again looked to, and any roughness smoothed down with the folder. before covering, the bands should be nipped up with band nippers (see fig. ) to make sure that they are sharp. the coverer should have ready before covering a clean paring stone, one or two folders, a pair of nickeled-band nippers, a clean sponge, a little water in a saucer, a piece of thread, and a strip of smooth wood (boxwood for preference), called a band stick, used for smoothing the leather between the bands, a pair of scissors, and a small sharp knife, a pair of waterproof sheets the size of the book, and, if the book is a large one, a pair of tying up boards, with tying up string, and two strips of wood covered in blotting-paper or leather. it is best to have the band nippers for covering nickeled to prevent the iron from staining the leather. the waterproof sheets recommended are thin sheets of celluloid, such as are used by photographers. [illustration: fig. .] when these things are ready, the pasted cover should be examined and repasted if it has dried in any place. the amount of paste to be used for covering can only be learned by experience. a thick leather will take more than a thin one, but, provided the cover sticks tight at every point, the less paste used the better. if there is too much, it will rub up and make very ugly, uneven places under the leather; and if there is too little, the cover will not stick. [illustration: fig. .] take the pasted cover and look to see which is the better side of the leather. lay the front of the book down on this exactly up to the marks that show the beginning of the turn-in. then draw the leather over the back and on to the other side, pulling it slightly, but not dragging it. then stand the book on its fore-edge on a piece of waste paper, with the leather turned out on either side, as shown at fig. , and nip up the bands with nickeled band nippers (see fig. ). after this is done there will probably be a good deal of loose leather on the back. this can be got rid of by dragging the leather on to the side; but by far the better plan, when the back is large enough to allow it, is to work up the surplus leather on to the back between the panels. this requires a good deal of practice, and is very seldom done; but it can be done with most satisfactory results. the book should now have the leather on the back stretched lengthways to make it cover the bands, but not stretched the other way, and the leather on the boards should lie perfectly flat and not be stretched at all. the leather on the fore-edge of the board is then rubbed with the hand on the outside, and then on to the edge, and then on the inside. the edge and the inside are smoothed down with a folder, and any excessive paste on the inside squeezed out and removed. when the fore-edge of both boards has been turned in, the head and tail must also be turned in. a little paste is put on to that part of the leather that will turn in below the headband, and this portion is neatly tucked in between the boards and the back. the turned-in edge must lie quite evenly, or it will result in a ridge on the back. the leather is turned in on the two boards in the same way as described for the fore-edge, and the edge rubbed square with a folder. at fig. is shown a convenient form of folder for covering. at the corners the leather must be pulled over as far as possible with two folders meeting at the extreme point, the object being to avoid a cut in the leather at the corner of the board. the folds so formed must be cut off with the scissors (see fig. , a), then one edge tucked neatly under the other, (b). care must be taken throughout not to soil the edges of the leaves. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] at the headband the fold of leather, pared thin for the purpose, must be squeezed together with a folder and pulled out a little to leave an even projection that can be turned over to form a head-cap. when both ends have been turned in, in this way, the boards must each be opened and pressed against a straight-edge held in the joint (fig. ) to ensure that there is enough leather in the turn-in of the joint to allow the cover to open freely; and the leather of the turn-in at the head and tail must be carefully smoothed down with a folder. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the book may now be shut up if a waterproof sheet is put at each end to prevent the damp of the cover from cockling the paper. it must then be stood on its fore-edge and the bands again nipped up with a pair of nickeled band nippers, and the panels between the bands well pressed down with the band stick to cause the leather to stick at every point. a piece of thread is tied round the back from head to tail, squeezing the leather in the gap caused by the corners of the board having been cut off. the book is then turned up on end, resting the tail on a folder or anything that will keep the projecting leather for the head-cap from being prematurely flattened. the head-caps (fig. ) must now be set. to do this the first finger of the left hand is placed behind it, and a sharp folder is pressed into the corners of the head-cap between the headband and the thread. the leather is then tapped over the headband, and the whole turned over on the stone and rubbed at the back with a folder. this operation requires great nicety. the shape of head-cap is shown at fig. . the nice adjustment of head-caps and corners, although of no constructional value, are the points by which the forwarding of a book is generally valued. [illustration: fig. .] if the book is a large one, it will be best to tie it up. the method of tying up is shown in fig. . the tying up cords will make marks at the side of the bands, that are not unpleasant on a large book. if they are objected to, it is best to tie the book up for about half-an-hour, and then to untie it, and smooth out the marks with the band stick. even with small books, if the leather seems inclined to give trouble, it is well to tie them up for a short time, then to untie them, to smooth out any marks or inequalities, and to tie them up again. mitring corners and filling in a book that has been covered should be left under a light weight until the next day, with waterproof sheets between the damp cover and the end paper to prevent the sheets of the book from cockling through the damp. when the cover is thoroughly set the boards should be carefully opened, pressing them slightly to the joint to ensure a square and even joint. if, as is sometimes the case, the turn-in of the leather over the joint seems to be inclined to bind, the cover should be merely opened half-way, and the leather of the turns-in of the joint damped with a sponge, and left to soak for a short time, and then the cover can usually be opened without any dragging. a section of a good joint is shown at fig. , a, and a bad one at b. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the next operation will be to fill in the board and mitre the corners. to fill in the boards, a piece of paper as thick as the turn-in of the leather (engineer's cartridge paper answers very well) should be cut a little smaller than the board, with one edge cut straight; then with the straight edge adjusted to the back of the board, and a weight placed on the centre, the paper is marked round with dividers set to the intended width of the turn-in of the leather. then with a sharp knife, paper and leather may be cut through together. the paper should then be marked to show its position on the board, and the ragged edges of the leather trimmed off. this will leave an even margin of leather on three sides of the inside of the board, and a piece of paper that will exactly fit the remaining space. the corners must next be mitred. to do this, both thicknesses of leather are cut through from the corner of the board to the corner of the inside margin. the knife should be held slightly slanting to make a cut, as shown at fig. . the corners should then be thoroughly damped, and the overlapping leather from both sides removed, leaving what should be a neat and straight join. if the leather at the extreme corner should prove to be, as is often the case, too thick to turn in neatly, the corners should be opened out and the leather pared against the thumb nail, and then well pasted and turned back again. the extreme corner may be slightly tapped on the stone with a hammer, and the sides rubbed with a folder, to ensure squareness and sharpness. when all four corners have been mitred, the filling in papers can be pasted in. as they will probably stretch a little with the paste, it will be well to cut off a slight shaving, and they should then fit exactly. when the boards have been filled in and well rubbed down, the book should be left for some hours with the boards standing open to enable the filling-in papers to draw the boards slightly inwards to overcome the pull of the leather. in cases where there are leather joints the operation is as follows: the waste end paper is removed, and the edge of the board and joint carefully cleaned from glue and all irregularities, and if, as is most likely, it is curved from the pull of the leather, the board must be tapped or ironed down until it is perfectly straight. if there is difficulty in making the board lie straight along the joint before pasting down, it will be well first to fill in with a well pasted and stretched thin paper, which, if the boards are left open, will draw them inwards. if the leather joint is pasted down while the board is curved, the result will be a most unsightly projection on the outside. when the joint has been cleaned out, and the board made to lie flat, the leather should be pasted down and mitred. the whole depth of the turn-in of the covering leather in the joint must not be removed, or it will be unduly weakened. the mitring line should not come from the extreme corner, but rather farther down, and there it is well to leave a certain amount of overlap in the joint, for which purpose the edge of the turn-in leather and the edge of the leather joint should be pared thin. after pasting down the leather joints the boards should be left open till they are dry (see fig. ). the turn-in and leather joint are then trimmed out, leaving an even margin of leather all round the inside of the board, and the panel in the centre filled in with a piece of thick paper. [illustration: fig. .] when corners and filling in are dry, the boards may be shut up, and the book is ready for finishing. it is a common practice to wash up the covers of books that have become stained with a solution of oxalic acid in water. this is a dangerous thing to do, and is likely to seriously injure the leather. leather, when damp, must not be brought in contact with iron or steel tools, or it may be badly stained. chapter xiii library binding--binding very thin books--scrap-books--binding on vellum--books covered with embroidery library binding _specifications iii and iv_ to produce cheaper bindings, as must be done in the case of large libraries, some alteration of design is necessary. appearance must to some extent be sacrificed to strength and durability, and not, as is too often the case, strength and durability sacrificed to appearance. the essentials of any good binding are, that the sections should be sound in themselves, and that there should be no plates or odd sheets "pasted on," or anything that would prevent any leaf from opening right to the back; the sewing must be thoroughly sound; the sewing materials of good quality; the slips firmly attached to the boards; and the leather fairly thick and of a durable kind, although for the sake of cheapness it may be necessary to use skins with flaws on the surface. such flawed skins cost half, or less than half, the price of perfect skins, and surface flaws do not injure the strength of the leather. by sewing on tape, great flexibility of the back is obtained, and much time, and consequent expense, in covering is saved. by using a french joint much thicker leather than usual can be used, with corresponding gain in strength. to bind an octavo or smaller book according to the specification given (iii, page ); first make all sections sound, and guard all plates or maps. make end papers with zigzags. after the sections have been thoroughly pressed, the book will be ready for marking up and sewing. in marking up for sewing on tapes, two marks will be necessary for each tape. when there are several books of the same size to be sewn, they may be placed one above the other in the sewing press, and sewn on to the same tapes. it will be found that the volumes when sewn can easily be slid along the tapes, which must be long enough to provide sufficient for the slips of each. the split boards may be "made" of a thin black mill-board with a thicker straw-board. to "make" a pair of split boards the pieces of straw-and mill-board large enough to make the two are got out, and the straw-board well glued, except in the centre, which should previously be covered with a strip of thin mill-board or tin about four inches wide. the strip is then removed, and the thin black board laid on the glued straw-board and nipped in the press. when dry, the made board is cut down the centre, which will leave two boards glued together all over except for two inches on one side of each. the boards then are squared to the book in a mill-board machine. the back of the book is glued up, and in the ordinary way rounded and backed. the edges may be cut with a guillotine. the ends of the tapes are glued on the waste end paper, which should be cut off about an inch and a half from the back. the split boards are then opened and glued, and the waste end papers with slips attached are placed in them (see fig. ), and the book nipped in the press. to form a "french joint" the boards should be kept about an eighth of an inch from the back of the book. the book is then ready for covering. the leather must not be pared too thin, as the french joint will give plenty of play and allow the use of much thicker leather than usual. if time and money can be spared, headbands can be worked, but they are not absolutely necessary, and a piece of string may be inserted into the turning of the leather at head and tail in the place of them. when the book is covered, a piece of string should be tied round the joints, and the whole given a nip in the press. the corners of the boards should be protected by small tips of vellum or parchment. the sides may be covered with good paper, which will wear quite as well as cloth, look better, and cost less. [illustration: fig. .] the lettering of library books is very important (see chapter xv). binding very thin books books consisting of only one section may be bound as follows:--a sheet of paper to match the book, and two coloured sheets for end papers, are folded round the section, and a "waste" paper put over all. a strip of linen is pasted to the back of the waste, and the whole sewn together by stitching through the fold. the waste may be cut off and inserted with the linen in a split board, as for library bindings. the back edges of the board should be filed thin, and should not be placed quite up to the back, to allow for a little play in the joints. the leather is put on in the ordinary way, except that the linen at the head and tail must be slit a little to allow for the turn in. if waterproof sheets are first inserted, the ends may be pasted, the boards shut, and the book nipped in the press. by substituting a piece of thin leather for the outside coloured paper, a leather joint can be made. scrap-books scrap-books, into which autograph letters, sketches, or other papers can be pasted, may be made as follows:--enough paper of good quality is folded up to the size desired, and pieces of the same paper, of the same height, and about two inches wide, are folded down the centre and inserted between the backs of the larger sheets, as shown at fig. . it is best not to insert these smaller pieces in the centre of the section, as they would be troublesome in sewing. if, after sewing, the book is filled up with waste paper laid between the leaves, it will make it manageable while being forwarded. it is best to use a rather darkly-toned or coloured paper, as, if a quite white paper is used, any letters or papers that have become soiled, will look unduly dirty. [illustration: fig. .] autograph letters may be mounted in the following ways:--if the letter is written upon both sides of a single leaf, it may be either "inlaid," or guarded, as shown at fig. , a. a letter on a folded sheet of notepaper should have the folds strengthened with a guard of strong thin paper, and be attached by a guard made, as shown at fig. , b; or if on very heavy paper, by a double guard, as shown at fig. , c. torn edges of letters may be strengthened with thin japanese paper. [illustration: fig. .] thin paper, written or printed only on one side, may be mounted on a page of the book. it is better to attach these by their extreme edges only, as if pasted down all over they may cause the leaves to curl up. letters or any writing or drawing in lead pencil should be fixed with size before being inserted. silver prints of photographs are best mounted with some very quick-drying paste, such as that sold for the purpose by the photographic dealers. if the leaf on which they are mounted is slightly damped before the photograph is pasted down, it will be less likely to cockle. if this is done, waterproof sheets should be put on each side of the leaf while it dries. if photographs are attached by the edges only, they will not be so liable to draw the paper on which they are mounted; but sometimes they will not lie flat themselves. in cases where very thick letters or papers have to be pasted in, a few more leaves of the book should be cut out, to make a corresponding thickness at the back. vellum bindings vellum covers may be limp without boards, and merely held in place by the slips being laced through them, or they may be pasted down on boards in much the same way as leather. if the edges of a book for limp vellum binding are to be trimmed or gilt, that should be done before sewing. for the ends a folded piece of thin vellum may replace the paste-down paper. the sewing should be on strips of vellum. the back is left square after glueing, and headbands are worked as for leather binding, or may be worked on strips of leather, with ends left long enough to lace into the vellum (see p. ). the back and headbands are lined with leather, and the book is ready for the cover. a piece of vellum should be cut out large enough to cover the book, and to leave a margin of an inch and a half all round. this is marked with a folder on the under side, as shown at fig. , a. spaces and are the size of the sides of the book with surrounding squares; space is the width of the back, and space the width for the overlaps on the fore-edge. the corners are cut, as shown at , and the edges are folded over, as at b. the overlap is then turned over, and the back folded, as at c. the slips are now laced through slits made in the vellum. [illustration: fig. .] a piece of loose, toned paper may be put inside the cover to prevent any marks on the book from showing through; and pieces of silk ribbon of good quality are laced in as shown, going through both cover and vellum ends, if there are any, and are left with ends long enough to tie (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. .] if paper ends are used, the silk tape need only be laced through the cover, and the end paper pasted over it on the inside. another simple way of keeping a vellum book shut is shown at fig. . a bead is attached to a piece of gut laced into the vellum, and a loop of catgut is laced in the other side, and looped over the bead as shown. if the book is to have stiff boards, and the vellum is to be pasted to them, it is best to sew the sections on tapes or vellum slips, to back the book as for leather, and to insert the ends of the slips in a split board, leaving a french joint, as described for library bindings. vellum is very stiff, and, if it is pasted directly to the back, the book would be hard to open. it is best in this case to use what is known as a hollow back. [illustration: fig. .] to make a hollow back, a piece of stout paper is taken which measures once the length of the back and three times the width. this is folded in three. the centre portion is glued to the back and well rubbed down, and the overlapping edges turned back and glued one to the other (fig. ). this will leave a flat, hollow casing, formed by the single paper glued to the back of the book and the double paper to which the vellum may be attached. or it is better to line up the back with leather, and to place a piece of thick paper the size of the back on to the pasted vellum where the back will be when the book is covered. when the book is ready for covering, the vellum should be cut out and lined with paper. in lining vellum the paste must be free from lumps, and great care must be taken not to leave brush marks. to avoid this, when the lining paper has been pasted it can be laid, paste downwards, on a piece of waste paper and quickly pulled up again; this should remove surplus paste and get rid of any marks left by the brush. when the vellum has been lined with paper, it should be given a light nip in the press between blotting-paper, and while still damp it is pasted, the book covered, and the corners mitred. a piece of thin string is tied round the head-caps and pressed into the french joint. [illustration: fig. .] waterproof sheets are placed inside the covers, and the book then nipped in the press and left to dry under a light weight. if the vellum is very stiff and difficult to turn in, it may be moistened with a little warm water to soften it. books with raised bands have sometimes been covered with vellum, but the back becomes so stiff and hard, that this method, though it looks well enough, cannot be recommended. vellum is a durable material, and can be had of good quality, but it is so easily influenced by changes of temperature, that it is rather an unsuitable material for most bindings. books covered with embroidery and woven material to cover a book with embroidered material bind it with split boards, a french joint, and a hollow back, as described for vellum (see fig. ). glue the back of the book with thin glue well worked up, and turning in the head and tail of the embroidery, put the book down on it so that the back will come exactly in the right place. press down the embroidery with the hand to make sure that it sticks. when it is firmly attached to the back, first one board and then the other should be glued, and the embroidery laid down on it. lastly, the edges are glued and stuck down on the inside of the board, and the corners mitred. velvet or any other thick material can be put down in the same way. for very thin material that the glue would penetrate and soil, the cover should be left loose, and only attached where it turns in. a loose lining of good paper may be put between the book and the cover. the inside corners where the cover has been cut should be neatly sewn up. the edges of the boards and head-caps may be protected all round with some edging worked in metal thread. it is well in embroidering book covers to arrange for some portion of the pattern to be of raised metal stitches, forming bosses that will protect the surface from wear. should any glue chance to get on the surface, the cover should be held in the steam of a kettle and the glue wiped off, and the cover again steamed. chapter xiv decoration--tools--finishing--tooling on vellum--inlaying on leather decoration of binding--tools the most usual, and perhaps the most characteristic, way of decorating book covers is by "tooling." tooling is the impression of heated (finishing) tools. finishing tools are stamps of metal that have a device cut on the face, and are held in wooden handles (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .] tooling may either be blind tooling, that is, a simple impression of the hot tools, or gold tooling, in which the impression of the tool is left in gold on the leather. tools for blind tooling are best "die-sunk," that is, cut like a seal. the "sunk" part of the face of the tool, which may be more or less modelled, forms the pattern, and the higher part depresses the leather to form a ground. in tools for gold tooling, the surface of the tool gives the pattern. tools may be either complex or simple in design, that is to say, each tool may form a complete design with enclosing border, as the lower ones on page , or it may be only one element of a design, as at fig. . lines may be run with a fillet (see fig. ), or made with gouges or pallets. gouges are curved line tools. they are made in sets of arcs of concentric circles (see fig. , a). the portion of the curves cut off by the dotted line c will make a second set with flatter curves. gouges are used for tooling curved lines. [illustration: fig. .] a "pallet" may be described as a segment of a roll or fillet set in a handle, and used chiefly for putting lines or other ornaments across the backs of books (see fig. ). a set of one-line pallets is shown at fig. , b. fillets are cut with two or more lines on the edge. although the use of double-line fillets saves time, i have found that a few single-line fillets with edges of different gauges are sufficient for running all straight lines, and that the advantage of being able to alter the distances between any parallel lines is ample compensation for the extra trouble involved by their use. in addition to the rigid stamps, an endless pattern for either blind or gold tooling may be engraved on the circumference of a roll, and impressed on the leather by wheeling. [illustration: fig. .] the use of a roll in finishing dates from the end of the fifteenth century, and some satisfactory bindings were decorated with its aid. the ease with which it can be used has led in modern times to its abuse, and i hardly know of a single instance of a modern binding on which rolls have been used for the decoration with satisfactory results. the gain in time and trouble is at the expense of freedom and life in the design; and for extra binding it is better to build up a pattern out of small tools of simple design, which can be arranged in endless variety, than to use rolls. tools for hand-tooling must not be too large, or it will be impossible to obtain clear impressions. one inch square for blind tools, or three-quarters of an inch for gold tools, is about the maximum size for use with any certainty and comfort. tools much larger than this have to be worked with the aid of a press, and are called blocks. finishing the first thing the finisher does to a book is to go over the back with a polisher and smooth out any irregularities. two forms of polisher are shown at fig. . the lower one is suitable for polishing backs and inside margins, and the upper for sides. polishers must be used warm, but not too hot, or the leather may be scorched, and they must be kept moving on the leather. before using they should be rubbed bright on a piece of the finest emery paper, and polished on a piece of leather. new polishers often have sharp edges that would mark the leather. these must be rubbed down with files and emery-paper. leathers with a prominent grained surface, such as morocco, seal or pig skin, may either have the grain rough or crushed flat. if there is to be much finishing, the grain had better be crushed, but for large books that are to have only a small amount of finishing, the grain is best left unflattened. [illustration: fig. .] if the grain of the leather is to be "crushed," it may be done at this stage. to do this, one board at a time is damped with a sponge and put in the standing-press, with a pressing plate on the grained side, and a pad of blotting-paper, or some such yielding substance, on the other (see fig. ). the press is then screwed up tight, and the board left for a short time. for some leathers this operation is best done after the binding has been finished and varnished, in which case, of course, the boards cannot be damped before pressing. no flexibly sewn book should be subject to great pressure after it has been covered, or the leather on the back may crinkle up and become detached. the next thing will be to decide what lettering and what decoration, if any, is to be put on the volume. the lettering should be made out first (see page ). if the book is to be at all elaborately decorated, paper patterns must be made out, as described in chapter xvi. [illustration: fig. .] for tooling the back, the book is held in the finishing press between a pair of backing boards lined with leather (see fig. ), and the paper pattern put across the back, with the ends either slightly pasted to the backing boards, or caught between them and the book. for the sides, the pattern is very slightly pasted on to the leather at the four corners. the book is then put in the finishing press, with the board to be tooled open and flat on the cheek of the press, unless the book is a large one, when it is easier to tool the sides out of the press. [illustration: fig. .] the selected tools, which should be ready on the stove (see fig. ), are one at a time cooled on a wet pad, and then pressed in their former impressions upon the paper. the degree of heat required varies a good deal with the leather used, and will only be learned by experience. it is better to have the tool too cool than too hot, as it is easy to deepen impressions after the paper is removed; but if they are already too deep, or are burnt, it will be impossible to finish clearly. generally speaking, tools should hiss very slightly when put on the cooling pad. in cooling, care must be taken to put the shank of the tools on to the wet pad, as, if the end only is cooled, the heat is apt to run down again, and the tool will still be too hot. [illustration: fig. .--finishing stove] before removing the paper, one corner at a time should be lifted up, and the leather examined to see that no part of the pattern has been missed. in some patterns where the design is close, or in which the background is dotted in, it will not be necessary to blind in every leaf and dot through the paper. if the lines with perhaps the terminal leaves are blinded in, the rest can be better worked directly through the gold. this method implies the "glairing in" of the whole surface. it is not suitable for open patterns, where the glaire might show on the surface of the leather. if the book is only to have lines, or some simple straight line pattern, it is often easier to mark it up without the paper, with a straight-edge and folder. in panelling a back, the side lines of all the panels should be marked in at the same time with a folder, working against the straight-edge, held firmly at the side of the back. if the panels are worked separately, it is difficult to get the side lines squarely above each other. the lines at the top and bottom of the panel may be marked in with a folder, guided by a piece of stiff vellum held squarely across the back. if there are lines to be run round the board, they can be marked in with a pair of dividers guided by the edge of the board, except those at the back. these must be measured from the fore-edge of the board and run in with straight-edge and folder. when straight lines occur in patterns that are blinded through the paper, it will be enough if the ends only are marked through with a small piece of straight line, and the lines completed with straight-edge and folder, after the paper has been removed. unless the finisher has had considerable experience, it is best to deepen all folder lines by going over them in blind with a fillet or piece of straight line. when the pattern has been worked in blind, either through a paper pattern or directly on to the leather with the tools, and any inlays stuck on (see page ), the cover should be well washed with clean water. some finishers prefer to use common vinegar or diluted acetic acid for washing up books. if vinegar is used it must be of the best quality, and must not contain any sulphuric acid. cheap, crude vinegar is certain to be injurious to the leather. porous leather, such as calf or sheep skin, will need to be washed over with paste-water, and then sized. paste-water is paste and water well beaten up to form a milky liquid, and is applied to the leather as evenly as possible with a sponge. when the paste-water is dry, the leather should be washed with size. size can be made by boiling down vellum cuttings, or by dissolving gelatine or isinglass in warm water. for the less porous leathers, such as morocco, seal, or pig skin, no paste-water or size is necessary, unless the skin happens to be a specially open one, or the cover has been cut from the flank or belly. then it is best to put a little paste in the vinegar or water used for washing up. when the leather is nearly, but not quite, dry the impressions of the tools must be painted with glaire. finishers' glaire may be made from the white of eggs well beaten up, diluted with about half as much vinegar, and allowed to settle. some finishers prefer to use old, evil-smelling glaire, but provided it is a day old, and has been well beaten up, fresh glaire will work quite well. the impressions of any heavy or solid tools should be given a second coat of glaire when the first has ceased to be "tacky," and if the leather is at all porous, all impressions had better have a second coat. as glaire is apt to show and disfigure the leather when dry, it is best to use it as sparingly as possible, and, excepting where the pattern is very close, to confine it to the impressions of the tools. it is not at all an uncommon thing to see the effect of an otherwise admirably tooled binding spoilt by a dark margin round the tools, caused by the careless use of glaire. glaire should not be used unless it is quite liquid and clean. directly it begins to get thick it should be strained or thrown away. the finisher should not glaire in more than he can tool the same day. when the glaire has ceased to be "tacky," the gold is laid on. [illustration: fig. .] at first it will be found difficult to manage gold leaf. the essential conditions are, that there should be no draught, and that the cushion and knife should be quite free from grease. the gold cushion and knife are shown at fig. . a little powdered bath-brick rubbed into the cushion will make it easier to cut the gold cleanly. the blade of the gold knife should never be touched with the hand, and before using it, both sides should be rubbed on the cushion. a book of gold is laid open on the cushion, and a leaf of gold is lifted up on the gold knife, which is slipped under it, and turned over on to the cushion. a light breath exactly in the centre of the sheet should make it lie flat, when it may be cut into pieces of any size with a slightly sawing motion of the knife. the book with the pattern ready prepared, and the glaire sufficiently dry (not sticky), is rubbed lightly with a small piece of cotton-wool greased with a little cocoanut oil. the back of the hand is greased in the same way, and a pad of clean cotton-wool is held in the right hand, and having been made as flat as possible by being pressed on the table, is drawn over the back of the hand. this should make it just greasy enough to pick up the gold, but not too greasy to part with it readily when pressed on the book. as little grease as possible should be used on the book, as an excess is apt to stain the leather and to make the gold dull. after experiment it has been found that cocoanut oil stains the leather less than any other grease in common use by bookbinders, and is more readily washed out by benzine. [illustration: fig. .] if the gold cracks, or is not solid when pressed on the book, a second thickness should be used. this will stay down if the under piece is lightly breathed upon. for narrow strips of gold for lines, a little pad covered with soft leather may be made, as in fig. . it will be found of advantage to first use the bottom leaf of gold in the book and then to begin at the top and work through, or else the bottom leaf will almost certainly be found to be damaged by the time it is reached. the gold used should be as nearly pure as it can be got. the gold-beaters say that they are unable to beat pure gold as thin as is usual for gold leaf; but the quite pure gold is a better colour than when alloyed, and the additional thickness, although costly, results in a more solid impression of the tools. the cost of a book of twenty-four leaves three and a half inches square of english gold leaf of good ordinary quality is from s. d. to s. d., whereas the cost of a book of double thick pure gold leaf is s. to s. d. for tooled work it is worth paying the increased price for the sake of the advantages in colour and solidity; but for lines and edges, which use up an immense amount of gold, the thinner and cheaper gold may quite well be used. besides pure gold leaf, gold alloyed with various metals to change its colour can be had. none of the alloys keep their colour as well as pure gold, and some of them, such as those alloyed with copper for red gold, and with silver for pale gold, tarnish very quickly. these last are not to be recommended. for silver tooling aluminium leaf may be used, as silver leaf tarnishes very quickly. when the gold is pressed into the impressions of the tools with the pad of cotton-wool, they should be plainly visible through it. the pattern must now be worked through the gold with the hot tools. the tools are taken from the stove, and if too hot cooled on a pad as for blinding-in. the heat required to leave the gold tooling solid and bright and the impressions clear will vary for different leathers, and even for different skins of the same leather. for trial a tool may be laid on the pad until it ceases to hiss, and one or two impressions worked with it. if the gold fails to stick, the heat may be slightly increased. if the leather is slightly damp from the preparation the tools will usually work better, and less heat is required than if it has been prepared for some time and has got dry. before using, the faces of all tools must be rubbed bright on the flesh side of a piece of leather. it is impossible to tool brightly with dirty tools. a tool should be held in the right hand, with the thumb on the top of the handle, and steadied with the thumb or first finger of the left hand. the shoulder should be brought well over the tool, and the upper part of the body used as a press. if the weight of the body is used in finishing, the tools can be worked with far greater firmness and certainty, and with less fatigue, than if the whole work is done with the muscles of the arms. large and solid tools will require all the weight that can be put on them, and even then the gold will often fail to stick with one impression. tools with small surfaces, such as gouges and dots, must not be worked too heavily, or the surface of the leather may be cut. to strike a large or solid tool, it should first be put down flat, and then slightly rocked from side to side and from top to bottom, but must not be twisted on the gold. a tool may be struck from whichever side the best "sight" can be got, and press and book turned round to the most convenient position. it is difficult to impress some tools, such as circular flower tools, twice in exactly the same place. such tools should have a mark on one side as a guide. this should always be kept in the same position when blinding-in and tooling, and so make it possible to impress a second time without "doubling." an impression is said to be "doubled" when the tool has been twisted in striking, or one impression does not fall exactly over the other. the hot tool should not be held hovering over the impression long, or the preparation will be dried up before the tool is struck. tooling will generally be brighter if the tools are struck fairly sharply, and at once removed from the leather, than if they are kept down a long time. to "strike" dots, the book should be turned with the head to the worker, and the tool held with the handle inclining slightly towards him. this will make them appear bright when the book is held the right way up. gouges must be "sighted" from the inside of the curve, and struck evenly, or the points may cut into the leather. short straight lines may be put in with pieces of line, and longer ones with a fillet. a one line fillet is shown at fig. ; the space filed out of the circumference is to enable lines to be joined neatly at the corners. that the lines may be clearly visible through the gold, the book should be placed so that the light comes from the left hand of the worker and across the line. it is well to have a basin of water in which to cool fillets, as there is so much metal in them, that the damp sponge or cotton used for cooling tools would very rapidly be dried up. when the fillet has been cooled, the edge should be rubbed on the cleaning pad, and the point exactly adjusted to the corner of the line to be run (see fig. ). the fillet is then run along the line with even pressure. [illustration: fig. .] for slightly curved lines, a very small fillet may be used. when all the prepared part of a pattern has been tooled, it is well rubbed to remove the loose gold with a slightly greasy rag, or with a piece of bottle indiarubber which has been softened in paraffin. after a time the rubber or rag may be sold to the gold-beater, who recovers the gold. to prepare indiarubber for cleaning off gold, a piece of bottle rubber is cut into small pieces and soaked in paraffin for some hours. this should cause the pieces to reunite into a soft lump. this can be used until it is yellow with gold throughout. when all free gold is rubbed off, the finisher can see where the tooling is imperfect. impressions which are not "solid" must be reglaired, have fresh gold laid on, and be retooled. but if, as will sometimes happen with the best finishers, the gold has failed to stick properly anywhere, it is best to wash the whole with water or vinegar, and prepare afresh. as an excess of grease is apt to dull the gold and soil the leather, it is better to use it very sparingly when laying on fresh gold for mending. for patching, benzine may be used instead of grease. when the gold is picked up on the cotton-wool pad, rapidly go over the leather with wool soaked in benzine, and at once lay down the gold. benzine will not hold the gold long enough for much tooling, but it will answer for about half-an-hour, and give plenty of time for patching. imperfect tooling arises from a variety of causes. if an impression is clear, but the gold not solid, it is probably because the tool was not hot enough, or was not put down firmly. if only one side of an impression fails to stick, it is usually because the tool was unevenly impressed. if an impression is blurred, and the gold has a frosted look, it is because the leather has been burned, either because the tool was too hot, or kept down too long, or the preparation was too fresh. to mend double or burnt impressions the leather should be wetted and left to soak a short time, and the gold can be picked out with a wooden point. when nearly dry the impressions should be put in again with a cool tool, reglaired and retooled. it is very difficult to mend neatly if the leather is badly burnt. sometimes it may be advisable to paste a piece of new leather over a burnt impression before retooling. if a tool is put down in the wrong place by mistake, it is difficult to get the impression out entirely. the best thing to do is to damp the leather thoroughly, leave it to soak for a little while, and pick up the impression with the point of a pin. it is best not to use an iron point for this, as iron is apt to blacken the leather. leather is difficult to tool if it has not a firm surface, or if it is too thin to give a little when the tool is struck. when the tooling is finished, and the loose gold removed with the rubber, the leather should be washed with benzine, to remove any grease and any fragments of gold that may be adhering by the grease only. the inside margins of the boards are next polished and varnished, and the end papers pasted down. or if there is a leather joint, the panel left on the board may be filled in (see chapter xvii). when the end papers are dry, the sides and back may be polished and varnished. it is important that the varnish should be of good quality, and not too thick, or it will in time turn brown and cause the gold to look dirty. some of the light french spirit varnishes prepared for bookbinders answer well. varnish must be used sparingly, and is best applied with a pad of cotton-wool. a little varnish is poured on to the pad, which is rubbed on a piece of paper until it is seen that the varnish comes out thinly and evenly. it is then rubbed on the book with a spiral motion. the quicker the surface is gone over, provided every part is covered, the better. varnish will not work well if it is very cold, and in cold weather both the book and varnish bottle should be slightly warmed before use. should an excess of varnish be put on in error, or should it be necessary to retool part of the book after it has been varnished, the varnish can be removed with spirits of wine. varnish acts as a preservative to the leather, but has the disadvantage, if used in excess, of making it rather brittle on the surface. it must, therefore, be used very sparingly at the joints. it is to be hoped that a perfectly elastic varnish, that will not tarnish the gold, will soon be discovered. as soon as the varnish is dry the boards may be pressed, one at a time, to give the leather a smooth surface (see fig. ), leaving each board in the press for some hours. [illustration: fig. .] after each board has been pressed separately the book should be shut, and pressed again with pressing plates on each side of it, and with tins covered with paper placed inside each board. light pressure should be given to books with tight backs, or the leather may become detached. if, on removing from the press, the boards will not keep shut, the book should be pressed again with a folded sheet of blotting-paper in each end. the blotting-paper should have the folded edge turned up, and be placed so that this turned-up edge will be in the joint behind the back edge of the board when the book is shut. a small nipping-press suitable for giving comparatively light pressure, is shown at fig. . tooling on vellum most covering vellum has a sticky surface, that marks if it is handled. this should be washed off with clean water before tooling. the pattern is blinded in through the paper as for leather, excepting that the paper must not be pasted directly to the vellum, but may be held with a band going right round the board or book. it is best to glaire twice, and to lay on a small portion of gold at a time with benzine. as vellum burns very readily, the tools must not be too hot, and some skill is needed to prevent them from slipping on the hard surface. vellum must not be polished or varnished. inlaying on leather inlaying or onlaying is adding a different leather from that of the cover, as decoration. thus on a red book, a panel or a border, or other portion, may be covered with thin green leather, or only flowers or leaves may be inlaid, while a jewel-like effect may be obtained by dots, leaves, and flowers, tooled over inlays of various colours. leather for inlaying should be pared very thin. to do this the leather is cut into strips, wetted, and pared on a stone with a knife shaped somewhat as at fig. , b. when the thin leather is dry the inlays of the leaves and flowers, &c., may be stamped out with steel punches cut to the shape of the tools; or if only a few inlays are needed, the tools may be impressed on the thin leather, and the inlays cut out with a sharp knife. the edges of the larger inlays should be pared round carefully. for inlaying a panel or other large surface, the leather is pared very thin and evenly with a french knife, and a piece of paper pasted on to the grained side and left to dry. when dry, the shape of the panel, or other space to be inlaid, is marked on it through the paper pattern, and leather and paper cut through to the shape required. the edges must then be carefully pared, and the piece attached with paste, and nipped in the press to make it stick. when the paste is dry, the paper may be damped and washed off. the object of the paper is to prevent the thin leather from stretching when it is pasted. for white inlays it is better to use japanese paper than leather, as white leather, when pared very thin, will show the colours of the under leather through, and look dirty. if paper is used, it should be sized with vellum size before tooling. when many dots or leaves are to be inlaid, the pieces of leather, cut out with the punch, may be laid face downwards on a paring stone, and a piece of paper, thickly covered with paste, laid on it. this, on being taken up, will carry with it the "inlays," and they can be picked up one at a time on the point of a fine folder, and stuck on the book. "inlays" of tools are attached after the pattern has been "blinded" in, and must be again worked over with the tool, in blind, when the paste is nearly dry. on vellum an effect, similar to that of inlays on leather, can be obtained by the use of stains. chapter xv lettering--blind tooling--heraldic ornament lettering on the back lettering may be done either with separate letters, each on its own handle, or with type set in a type-holder and worked across the back as a pallet. although by the use of type great regularity is ensured, and some time saved, the use of handle letters gives so much more freedom of arrangement, that their use is advocated for extra binding. where a great many copies of the same work have to be lettered, the use of type has obvious advantages. a great deal depends on the design of the letters used. nearly all bookbinders' letters are made too narrow, and with too great difference between the thick and thin strokes. at fig. is shown an alphabet, for which i am indebted to the kindness of mr. emery walker. the long tail of the q is meant to go under the u. it might be well to have a second r cut, with a shorter tail, to avoid the great space left when an a happens to follow it. i have found that four sizes of letters are sufficient for all books. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] to make out a lettering paper for the back of a book, cut a strip of good thin paper as wide as the height of the panel to be lettered. fold it near the centre, and mark the fold with a pencil. this should give a line exactly at right angles to the top and bottom of the strip. then make another fold the distance from the first of the width of the back; then bring the two folds together, and make a third fold in the exact centre. the paper should then be as shown at fig. . supposing the lettering to be the works of robert louis stevenson, select the size of letter you desire to use, and take an e and mark on a piece of spare paper a line of e's, and laying your folded paper against it, see how many letters will go in comfortably. supposing you find that four lines of five letters of the selected size can be put in, you must see if your title can be conveniently cut up into four lines of five letters, or less. it might be done as shown at fig. . but if you prefer not to split the name stevenson, a smaller letter must be employed, and then the lettering may be as at fig. . to find out the position of the lines of lettering on a panel, the letter e is again taken and impressed five times at the side of the panel, as shown at fig. , leaving a little greater distance between the lowest letter and the bottom of the panel, than between the letters. the paper is then folded on the centre fold, and, with dividers set to the average distance between the head of one letter and the head of the next, five points are made through the folded paper. the paper is opened, turned over, and the points joined with a fine folder worked against the straight-edge. it should leave on the front five raised lines, up to which the head of the letters must be put. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the letters in the top line are counted, and the centre letter marked. spaces between words are counted as a letter; thus in "the works," "w" will be the centre letter, and should be put on the paper first, and the others added on each side of it. some thought is needed in judging where to put the centre, as the difference in the width of such letters as "m" and "w" and "i" and "j" have to be taken into account. as a general rule, lettering looks best if it comfortably fills the panel, but of course it cannot always be made to do this. the greatest difficulty will be found in making titles of books that consist of a single word, look well. thus if you have "coriolanus" to place on a back which is not more than / -inch wide, if it is put across as one word, as at fig. ( ), it will be illegible from the smallness of the type, and will tell merely as a gold line at a little distance. if a reasonably large type is used, the word must be broken up somewhat, as at ( ), which is perhaps better, but still not at all satisfactory. the word may be put straight along the back, as at fig. ( ), but this hardly looks well on a book with raised bands, and should be avoided unless necessary. [illustration: fig. .] the use of type of different sizes in lettering a book should be avoided when possible, and on no account whatever should letters of different design be introduced. occasionally, when the reason for it is obvious, it may be allowable to make a word shorter by putting in a small letter, supposing that only thus could reasonably large type be used. it is especially allowable in cases where, in a set of volumes, there is one much thinner than the others. it is generally better to make some compromise with the lettering of the thin volume, than to spoil the lettering of the whole set by using too small a letter throughout (see fig. ). on very thin books it is sometimes hardly possible to get any lettering at all on the back. in such cases the lettering is best put on the side. in the case of some special books that are to have elaborately decorated bindings, and are on that account sufficiently distinct from their neighbours, a certain amount of freedom is permissible with the lettering, and a little mystery is not perhaps out of place. but in most cases books have to be recognised by their titles, and it is of the utmost importance that the lettering should be as clear as possible, and should fully identify the volume. for lettering half-bindings and other books on which much time cannot be spared, it would take too long to make out a paper, as described for extra bindings, nor is there on such work much occasion for it. for such books the lettering should be written out carefully, the whole panel prepared and glaired in, and the gold laid on. then with a piece of fine silk or thread lines may be marked across the gold as a guide to the finisher, and the letters worked from the centre outward, as described for making out the paper pattern. of course this method does not allow of such nice calculation and adjustment as when a paper pattern is made out; but if a general principle of clear lettering is recognised and accepted, very good results may be obtained. blind tooling [illustration: fig. .] at the end of the book characteristic examples of blind-tooled books are given (pages - ). it will be seen that most of the tools form complete designs in themselves. although the use of detached die-sunk tools was general, there were also simple tools used, which, when combined, made up more or less organic designs, and allowed more freedom to the finisher (see figs. and ). [illustration: fig. .] some use may also be made of interlaced strap-work designs, either worked with gouges, or a small fillet. a book bound in oaken boards, with a leather back with knotted decoration, is shown at page . i have found that such binding and decoration is more satisfactory in scheme for old books, than most forms of modern binding. if a design is simple, the cover is marked up with dividers, and the tools impressed direct upon the leather; or, if it is elaborate, a paper pattern is made out, and the tools blinded through the paper, as described for gold tooling. the leather is then damped with water, and the impressions retooled. [illustration: fig. .] the panel lines on most of the bindings before show evidence of having been put in with a tool which has been pushed along the leather, and not with a wheel. i have found that a tool guided by a straight-edge, and "jiggered" backwards and forwards, makes by far the best lines for blind-tool work. it should be borne in mind that the line is formed by the raised portion of leather, and so the tool should be cut somewhat as at fig. . this should leave three ridges on the leather. blind tooling may be gone over and over until it is deep enough, and may be combined with various other methods of working. for instance, in tooling such a spray as is shown at fig. , the leaf would be formed by five impressions of the second tool, shown at a, the extremity of the impressions could be joined with gouges, the stalk and veining could either be run in with a fillet or worked with gouges. the grapes would best be worked with a tool cut for the purpose. one edge of all gouge or fillet impressions can be smoothed down with some such tool as shown in section at b. this has to be worked round the gouge lines with a steady hand, and may be fairly hot if it is kept moving. at c is shown a section of a gouge impression before and after the use of this tool. the ground can be dotted in, or otherwise gone over with some small tool to throw up the pattern. blind tooling can sometimes be used in combination with gold tooling. [illustration: fig. .] in the fifteenth century the venetian binders used little roundels of some gesso-like substance, that were brightly coloured or gilt, in combination with blind tooling (see p. ). this is a method that might be revived. what is known as "leather work" is a further development of blind tooling. this method of decoration has been revived lately, but not generally with success. "leather work" may be divided into two branches; in one the surface of the leather is cut to outline the pattern, and in the other the leather is embossed from the back, while wet, and the pattern outlined by an indented line. sometimes the two methods are combined. as embossing from the back necessitates the work being done before the leather is on the book, it is not very suitable for decorating books. leather first decorated and then stuck on the book, never looks as if it was an integral part of the binding. the cut leather work, which may be done after the book is bound, and leaves the surface comparatively flat, is a better method to employ for books, provided the cuts are not too deep, and are restricted to the boards, so as not to weaken the leather at the back and joints. much of the leather used for "leather work" is of very poor quality, and will not last; for modelling it must be thick on the side of the book, and for the book to open it must be pared thin at the joint, thus making it necessary to use a thick skin very much pared down, and consequently weakened (see p. ). another very common fault in modelled "leather work" is, that the two sides and the back are often worked separately and stuck together on the book, necessitating a join, and consequently a weak place in the hinge, where strength is most wanted. again, in most modern "leather work," those who do the decoration do not, as a rule, do the binding, and often do not understand enough of the craft to do suitable work. all those engaged in leather work are advised to learn to bind their own books, and to only use such methods of decoration, as can be carried out on the bound book. heraldry on book covers it is an old and good custom to put the arms of the owner of a library on the covers of the books he has bound. the traditional, and certainly one of the best ways to do this, is to have an arms block designed and cut. to design an arms block, knowledge of heraldry is needed, and also some clear idea of the effect to be aimed at. a very common mistake in designing blocks is to try and get the effect of hand tooling. blocks should be and look something entirely different. in hand tooling much of the effect is got from the impressions of small tools reflecting the light at slightly different angles, giving the work life and interest. blocked gold being all in one plane, has no such lights in it, and depends entirely on its design for its effect. provided the heraldry identifies the owner, it should be as simply drawn as it can be; the custom of indicating the tinctures by lines and dots on the charges, generally makes a design confused, obscuring the coat it is intended to make clear. in designing heraldic blocks it is well to get a good deal of solid flat surface of gold to make the blocked design stand out from any gold-tooled work on the cover. another way of putting armorial bearings on covers, is to paint them in oil paint. in the early sixteenth century the venetians copied the eastern custom of sinking panels in their book covers, and painted coats of arms on these sunk portions very successfully. the groundwork of the shield itself was usually raised a little, either by something under the leather, or by some gesso-like substance on its surface. arms blocks should be placed a little above the centre of the cover. generally, if the centre of the block is in a line with the centre band of a book with five bands, it will look right. blocks are struck with the aid of an arming or blocking press. the block is attached to the movable plate of the press called the "platen." to do this some stout brown paper is first glued to the platen, and the block glued to this, and the platen fixed in its place at the bottom of the heating-box. in blocking arms on a number of books of different sizes, some nice adjustment of the movable bed is needed to get the blocks to fall in exactly the right place. for blocking, one coat of glaire will be enough for most leathers. the gold is laid on as for hand tooling. the block should be brought down and up again fairly sharply. the heat needed is about the same as for hand tooling. chapter xvi designing for gold-tooled decoration designing tools for gold tooling, such tools as gouges, dots, pieces of straight line, and fillets are to be had ready-made at most dealers. other tools are best designed and cut to order. at first only a few simple forms will be needed, such as one or two flowers of different sizes, and one or two sets of leaves (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. (reduced)] in designing tools, it must be borne in mind that they may appear on the book many times repeated, and so must be simple in outline and much conventionalised. a more or less naturalistic drawing of a flower, showing the natural irregularities, may look charming, but if a tool is cut from it, any marked irregularity becomes extremely annoying when repeated several times on a cover. so with leaves, unless they are perfectly symmetrical, there should be three of each shape cut, two curving in different directions, and the third quite straight (see fig. ). to have only one leaf, and to have that curved, produces very restless patterns. the essence of gold-tool design, is that patterns are made up of repeats of impressions of tools, and that being so, the tools must be so designed that they will repeat pleasantly, and in practice it will be found that any but simple forms will become aggressive in repetition. [illustration: fig. .] designs for tools should be made out with indian ink on white paper, and they may be larger than the size of the required tool. the tool-cutter will reduce any drawing to any desired size, and will, from one drawing, cut any number of tools of different sizes. thus, if a set of five leaves of the same shape is wanted, it will only be necessary to draw one, and to indicate the sizes the others are to be in some such way as shown at fig. . it is not suggested that special tools should be cut for each pattern, but the need of new tools will naturally arise from time to time, and so the stock be gradually increased. it is better to begin with a very few, and add a tool or two as occasion arises, than to try to design a complete set when starting. [illustration: fig. .] tools may be solid or in outline. if in outline they may be used as "inlay" tools, and in ordering them the tool-cutter should be asked to provide steel punches for cutting the inlays. combining tools to form patterns it is well for the student to begin with patterns arranged on some very simple plan, making slight changes in each succeeding pattern. in this way an individual style may be established. the usual plan of studying the perfected styles of the old binders, and trying to begin where they left off, in practice only leads to the production of exact imitations, or poor lifeless parodies, of the old designs. whereas a pattern developed by the student by slow degrees, through a series of designs, each slightly different from the one before it, will, if eccentricities are avoided, probably have life and individual interest. perhaps the easiest way to decorate a binding is to cover it with some small repeating pattern. a simple form of diaper as a beginning is shown at fig. . to make such a pattern cut a piece of good, thin paper to the size of the board of a book, and with a pencil rule a line about an eighth of an inch inside the margin all round. then with the point of a fine folder that will indent, but not cut the paper, mark up as shown in fig. . the position of the lines a a and b b are found by simply folding the paper, first side to side, and then head to tail. the other lines can be put in without any measurement by simply joining all points where lines cross. by continual re-crossing, the spaces into which the paper is divided can be reduced to any desired size. if the construction lines are accurately put in, the spaces will all be of the same size and shape. it is then evident that a repeating design to fill any one of the spaces can be made to cover the whole surface. [illustration: fig. .] in fig. , it is the diagonal lines only that are utilised for the pattern. to avoid confusion, the cross lines that helped to determine the position of the diagonals are not shown. [illustration: fig. (reduced)] the advantage of using the point of a folder to mark up the constructional lines of a pattern instead of a pencil, is that the lines so made are much finer, do not rub out, and do not cause confusion by interfering with the pattern. any lines that will appear on the book, such as the marginal lines, may be put in with a pencil to distinguish them. having marked up the paper, select a flower tool and impress it at the points where the diagonal lines cross, holding it in the smoke of a candle between every two or three impressions. when the flower has been impressed all over, select a small piece of straight line, and put a stalk in below each flower; then a leaf put in on each side of the straight line will complete the pattern. [illustration: fig. (reduced)] a development of the same principle is shown at fig. , in which some gouges are introduced. any number of other combinations will occur to any one using the tools. frequently questions will arise as to whether a tool is to be put this way or that way, and whether a line is to curve up or down. whenever there is such an alternative open, there is the germ of another pattern. all-over diaper patterns may be varied in any number of ways. one way is to vary the design in alternate spaces. if this is done one of the designs should be such that it will divide down the centre both ways and so finish off the pattern comfortably at the edges. the pattern may be based on the upright and the cross-lines of the marking up, or the marking up may be on a different principle altogether. the designer, after a little practice, will be bewildered by the infinite number of combinations that occur to him. [illustration: fig. (reduced)] the diaper is selected for a beginning, because it is the easiest form of pattern to make, as there is no question of getting round corners, and very little of studying proportion. it is selected also because it teaches the student the decorative value of simple forms repeated on some orderly system. when he has grasped this, he has grasped the underlying principle of nearly all successful tooled ornament. diapers are good practice, because in a close, all-over pattern the tools must be put down in definite places, or an appalling muddle will result. in tooling; a repeat of the same few tools, is the best possible practice, giving as it does the same work over and over again under precisely the same conditions, and concentrating, on one book cover, the practice that might be spread over several backs and sides more sparingly decorated, when variety of conditions would confuse the student. [illustration: fig. .] when the principles of the diaper have been mastered, and the student has become familiar with the limitations of his tools, other schemes of decoration may be attempted, such as borders, centres, or panels. a form of border connected with cross-lines is shown at fig. . this is made up of a repeat of the spray built up of three tools and four gouges shown at fig. , with slight modification at the corners. other schemes for borders are those in which flowers grow inwards from the edge of the boards, or outwards from a panel at the centre, or on both sides of a line about half an inch from the edge. a pattern may also be made to grow all round the centre panel. borders will be found more difficult to manage than simple diapers, and at first, are best built up on the same principle--the repeat of some simple element. [illustration: fig. (reduced)] the decoration may be concentrated on parts of the cover, such as the centre or corners. a design for a centre is shown at fig. , and below is shown the way to construct it. a piece of paper is folded, as shown by the dotted lines, and an eighth of the pattern drawn with a soft pencil and folded over on the line a, and transferred by being rubbed at the back with a folder. this is lined in with a pencil, and folded over on the line b and rubbed off. this is lined in and folded over on a and c, rubbed off as before, and the whole lined in. the overs and unders of the lines are then marked, and gouges selected to fit. of course it will take several trials before the lines will interlace pleasantly, and the tools fit in. another centre, in which a spray is repeated three times, is shown at fig. , and any number of others will occur to the student after a little practice. a change of tools, or the slight alteration of a line, will give an entirely new aspect to a pattern. at page is shown an all-over pattern growing from the bottom centre of the board. in this design the leather was dark green, with a lighter green panel in the centre. the berries were inlaid in bright red. although at first glance it seems an intricate design, it is made up like the others of repetitions of simple forms. [illustration: fig. (reduced)] when the student has become proficient in the arrangement of tools in combination with lines, a design consisting entirely, or almost entirely, of lines may be tried. this is more difficult, because the limitations are not so obvious; but here again the principle of repetition, and even distribution, should be followed. at fig. is shown a design almost entirely composed of lines, built up on the same principle as the centre at fig. . [illustration: fig. (reduced)] the ends of the bands form a very pleasant starting-place for patterns. at pp. , - are shown ways of utilising this method. to look right, a pattern must be consistent throughout. the tools and their arrangement must have about the same amount of convention. gold tooling, dealing, as it does, with flat forms in silhouette only, necessitates very considerable formality in the design of the tools and of their arrangement on the cover. modern finishers have become so skilful, that they are able to produce in gold tooling almost any design that can be drawn in lines with a pencil, and some truly marvellous results are obtained by the use of inlays, and specially cut gouges. as a rule, such patterns simply serve to show the skill of the finisher, and to make one wonder who could have been foolish enough to select so limited and laborious a method as gold tooling for carrying them out. generally speaking, successful gold-tooled patterns show evidence of having been designed with the tools; of being, in fact, mere arrangements of the tools, and not of having been first designed with a pencil, and then worked with tools cut to fit the drawing. this does not of course apply to patterns composed entirely of lines, or to patterns composed of lines of dots. if artists wish to design for gold tooling without first mastering the details, probably the safest way will be for them to design in lines of gold dots. some successful patterns carried out in this way were shown at the arts and crafts exhibition some years ago. designs for gold-tooled binding should always be constructed on some geometrical plan, and whatever pattern there is, symmetrically distributed over the cover. if lettering can be introduced, it will be found to be most useful when arranging a pattern. it gives dignity and purpose to a design, and is also highly decorative. lettering may be arranged in panels, as at page , or in a border round the edge of the board, and in many other ways. it may either consist of the title of the book, or some line or verse from it or connected with it, or may refer to its history, or to the owner. anything that gives a personal interest to a book, such as the arms of the owner, the initials or name of the giver or receiver of a present, with perhaps the date of the gift, is of value. the use of the small fillet makes it possible to employ long, slightly-curved lines. gold-tooled lines have in themselves such great beauty, that designers are often tempted to make them meander about the cover in a weak and aimless way. as the limitations enforced by the use of gouges tend to keep the curves strong and small, and as the use of the small fillet tends to the production of long, weak curves, students are advised at first to restrict the curved lines in their patterns to such as can be readily worked with gouges. [illustration: fig. .] it must be remembered that a gouge or fillet line is very thin, and will look weak if it goes far without support. for this reason interlaced lines are advocated. gouge lines are easier to work, and look better, if a small space is left where the gouges end. this is especially the case where lines bearing leaves or flowers branch from the main stem (see fig. ). gouges and fillets need not always be of the same thickness of line, and two or three sets of different gauges may be kept. a finisher can always alter the thickness of a gouge with emery paper. one method of arranging gold-tooled lines is to treat them in design as if they were wires in tension, and knot and twist them together. provided the idea is consistently adhered to throughout, such a pattern is often very successful. [illustration: fig. .] a simple arrangement of straight lines will be sufficient ornamentation for most books. three schemes for such ornamentation are shown. in fig. the "tie-downs" may be in "blind" and the lines in gold. the arrangement shown at fig. leaves a panel at the top which may be utilised for lettering. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] designing for backs the decoration of the back of a book is difficult owing to the very small space usually available in the panels. the first consideration must be the lettering, and when that has been arranged, as described in chapter xv, a second paper is got out for the pattern. the back panel should generally be treated in the same style and, if possible, with the same tools as the sides, if they are decorated. it will often be found far easier to design a full-gilt side than a satisfactory back. a design may be made to fit one panel of the book and repeated on all those not required for lettering (see pages - ), or it may be made to grow up from panel to panel (see fig. ). in the case of sets of books in which the volumes vary very much in thickness, some pattern must be made that can be contracted and expanded without altering the general look of the back (see fig. ). designing for inside of boards the inside margins of the board permit of a little delicate decoration. at fig. are shown two ways of treating this part of the binding. the inside of the board is sometimes covered all over with leather, and tooled as elaborately, or more elaborately, than the outside. if there are vellum ends, they may be enriched with a little tooling. [illustration: fig. .] the edges of the boards may have a gold line run on them, and the head-cap may be decorated with a few dots. chapter xvii pasting down end papers--opening books pasting down end papers when the finishing is done, the end papers should be pasted down on to the board; or if there is a leather joint, the panel left should be filled in to match the end paper. to paste down end papers, the book is placed on the block with the board open (see fig. , a), the waste sheets are torn off, the joints cleared of any glue or paste, and the boards flattened, as described at page for pasting down leather joints. one of the paste-down papers is then stretched over the board and rubbed down in the joint, and the amount to be cut off to make it fit into the space left by the turn-in of the leather is marked on it with dividers, measuring from the edge of the board. a cutting tin is then placed on the book, the paste-down paper turned over it, and the edges trimmed off to the divider points with a knife and straight-edge, leaving small pieces to cover the ends of the joint (fig. , a, c). the cutting and pasting down of these small pieces in the joint are rather difficult; they should come exactly to the edges of the board. [illustration: fig. .] when both paste-down papers are trimmed to size, one of them is well pasted with thin paste in which there are no lumps, with a piece of waste paper under it to protect the book. the joints should also be pasted, and the paste rubbed in with the finger and any surplus removed. the pasted paper is then brought over on to the board, the edges adjusted exactly to their places, and rubbed down. the joint must next be rubbed down through paper. it is difficult to get the paper to stick evenly in the joint, and great nicety is needed here. all rubbing down must be done through paper, or the "paste-down" will be soiled or made shiny. some papers stretch very much when pasted, and will need to be cut a little smaller than needed, and put down promptly after pasting. thin vellum may be put down with paste in which there is a very little glue, but thicker vellum is better put down with thin glue. in pasting vellum, very great care is needed to prevent the brush-marks from showing through. if the vellum is thin, the board must be lined with white or toned paper with a smooth surface. this paper must be quite clean, as any marks will show through the vellum, and make it look dirty. when one side is pasted down the book can be turned over without shutting the board, and the other board opened and pasted down in the same way (see fig. , b). in turning over a book, a piece of white paper should be put under the newly-pasted side, as, being damp, it will soil very readily. when both ends have been pasted down the joints should be examined and rubbed down again, and the book stood up on end with the boards open until the end papers are dry. the boards may be held open with a piece of cardboard cut as shown at fig. . if there are cloth joints they are put down with glue, and the board paper is placed nearly to the edge of the joint, leaving very little cloth visible. in the process of finishing, the boards of a book will nearly always be warped a little outward, but the pasted end papers should draw the boards a little as they dry, causing them to curve slightly towards the book. with vellum ends there is a danger that the boards will be warped too much. opening newly bound books before sending out a newly bound book the binder should go through it, opening it here and there to ease the back. the volume is laid on a table, and the leaves opened a short distance from the front, and then at an equal distance from the back, and then in one or two places nearer the centre of the book, the leaves being pressed down with the hand at each opening. if the book is a valuable one, every leaf should then be turned over separately and each opening pressed down, beginning from the centre and working first one way and then the other. in this way the back will be bent evenly at all points. when a book has been opened, it should be lightly pressed for a short time without anything in the joints. if a book is sent out unopened, the first person into whose hand it falls will probably open it somewhere in the centre, bending the covers back and "breaking" the back; and if any leaves chance to have been stuck together in edge-gilding, they are likely to be torn if carelessly opened. a book with a "broken" back will always have a tendency to open in the same place, and will not keep its shape. it would be worth while for librarians to have newly bound books carefully opened. an assistant could "open" a large number of books in a day, and the benefit to the bindings would amply compensate for the small trouble and cost involved. chapter xviii clasps and ties--metal on bindings clasps and ties some books need to be clasped to keep the leaves flat. all books written or printed on vellum should have clasps. vellum unless kept flat is apt to cockle, and this in a book will force the leaves apart and admit dust. if a book is tightly wedged in a shelf the leaves will be kept flat, but as the chance removal of any other book from the row will remove the pressure, it is much better to provide clasps for vellum books. very thick books, and those with a great many folded plates, are better for having clasps to prevent the leaves from sagging. as nearly all books are now kept in bookshelves, and as any projection on the side of a book is likely to injure the neighbouring volume, a form of clasp should be used that has no raised parts on the boards. [illustration: fig. .] at fig. is shown a simple clasp suitable for small books with mill-board sides, with details of the metal parts, made of thick silver wire below. double boards must be "made," and the flattened ends of the silver catch inserted between the two thicknesses, and glued in place. about one-eighth of an inch of the end should project. in covering, the leather must be pierced and carefully worked round the catch. to make the plait, three strips of thin leather are slipped through the ring, and the ends of each strip pasted together. the three doubled strips are then plaited and the end of the plait put through a hole in the lower board of the book about half an inch from the edge, and glued down inside. a groove may be cut in the mill-board from the hole to the edge before covering, to make a depression in which the plait will lie, and a depression may be scooped out of the inner surface of the board to receive the ends. at fig. is a somewhat similar clasp with three plaits suitable for large books. the metal end and the method of inserting it into wooden boards are shown below. the turned-down end should go right through the board, and be riveted on the inside. when the three plaits are worked, a little band of silver may be riveted on just below the ring. [illustration: fig. .] a very simple fastening that is sometimes useful is shown at fig. . a very small bead is threaded on to a piece of catgut, and the two ends of the gut brought together and put through a larger bead. the ends of the gut with the beads on them are laced into the top board of the book, with the bead projecting over the edge, and a loop of gut is laced into the bottom board. if the loop can be made exactly the right length, this is a serviceable method. silk or leather ties may be used to keep books shut, but they are apt to be in the way when the book is read, and as hardly anybody troubles to tie them, they are generally of very little use. metal on bindings metal corners and bosses are a great protection to bindings, but if the books are to go into shelves, the metal must be quite smooth and flat. a metal shoe on the lower edge of the boards is an excellent thing for preserving the binding of heavy books. bosses and other raised metal work should be restricted to books that will be used on lecterns or reading desks. the frontispiece is from a drawing of an early sixteenth-century book, bound in white pigskin, and ornamented with brass corners, centres, and clasps; and at page is shown a fifteenth-century binding with plain protecting bosses. on this book there were originally five bosses on each board, but the centre ones have been lost. bindings may be entirely covered with metal, but the connection between the binding and the book is in that case seldom quite satisfactory. the most satisfactory metal-covered bindings that i have seen are those in which the metal is restricted to the boards. the book is bound in wooden boards, with thick leather at the back, and plaques of metal nailed to the wood. the metal may be set with jewels or decorated with enamel, and embossed or chased in various ways. jewels are sometimes set in invisible settings below the leather of bindings, giving them the appearance of being set in the leather. this gives them an insecure look, and it is better to frankly show the metal settings and make a decorative feature of them. chapter xix leather leather of all the materials used by the bookbinders, leather is the most important and the most difficult to select wisely. it is extremely difficult to judge a leather by its appearance. "we find now, that instead of leather made from sheep, calf, goat, and pigskins, each having, when finished, its own characteristic surface, that sheepskins are got up to look like calf, morocco, or pigskin; that calf is grained to resemble morocco, or so polished and flattened as to have but little character left; while goatskins are grained in any number of ways, and pigskin is often grained like levant morocco. so clever are some of these imitations, that it takes a skilled expert to identify a leather when it is on a book." there have been complaints for a long time of the want of durability of modern bookbinding leather, but there has not been until lately any systematic investigation into the causes of its premature decay. by permission, i shall quote largely from the report of the committee appointed by the society of arts to inquire into the subject. there are on this special committee leather manufacturers, bookbinders, librarians, and owners of libraries. the report issued is the result of an immense amount of work done. many libraries were visited, and hundreds of experiments and tests were carried out by the sub-committees. there is much useful information in the report that all bookbinders and librarians should read. the work of the committee is not yet finished, but its findings may be accepted as conclusive as far as they go. the committee first set themselves to ascertain if the complaints of the premature decay of modern bookbinding leather are justified by facts, and on this point report that:-- "as regards the common belief that modern binding leather does decay prematurely, the sub-committee satisfied themselves that books bound during the last eighty or hundred years showed far greater evidence of deterioration than those of an earlier date. many recent bindings showed evidence of decay after so short a period as ten, or even five years. the sub-committee came to the conclusion that there is ample justification for the general complaint that modern leather is not so durable as that formerly used. to fix the date of the commencement of this deterioration was a difficult matter; but they came to the conclusion that while leather of all periods showed some signs of decay, the deterioration becomes more general on books bound after , while some leathers seem to be generally good until about , after which date nearly all leathers seem to get worse. the deterioration of calf bindings at the latter end of the th century may be attributed as much to the excessive thinness as to the poor quality of the material." the committee endeavoured to ascertain the relative durability of the leathers used for bookbinding, and after visiting many libraries, and comparing bindings, they report as follows:-- "as to the suitability of various leathers, the sub-committee came to the conclusion that of the old leathers ( th and th century), white pigskin, probably alum 'tanned,' is the most durable, but its excessive hardness and want of flexibility renders this leather unsuitable for most modern work. old brown calf has lasted fairly well, but loses its flexibility, and becomes stiff and brittle when exposed to light and air. some of the white tawed skins of the th and th century, other than white pigskin, and probably deerskin, have lasted very well. some th and th century sheepskin bindings have remained soft and flexible, but the surface is soft, and usually much damaged by friction. vellum seems to have lasted fairly well, but is easily influenced by atmospheric changes, and is much affected by light. early specimens of red morocco from the th to the end of the th century were found in good condition, and of all the leathers noticed, this seems to be the least affected by the various conditions to which it had been subjected. in the opinion of the committee, most of this leather has been tanned with sumach or some closely allied tanning material. morocco bindings earlier than were generally found to be in fairly good condition, but morocco after that date seems to be much less reliable, and in many cases has become utterly rotten. during the latter part of the th century it became customary to pare down calf until it was as thin as paper. since about hardly any really sound calf seems to have been used, as, whether thick or thin, it appears generally to have perished. sheepskin bindings of the early part of the century are many of them still in good condition. since about sheepskin as sheepskin is hardly to be found. sheepskins are grained in imitation of other leathers, and these imitation-grained leathers are generally found to be in a worse condition than any of the other bindings, except, perhaps, some of the very thin calfskin. undyed modern pigskin seems to last well, but some coloured pigskin bindings had entirely perished. modern leathers dyed with the aid of sulphuric acid are all to be condemned. in nearly every case russia leather was found to have become rotten, at least in bindings of the last fifty years." on the question of the causes of the decay noticed and the best methods of preparing leather in the future, i may quote the following:-- "the work of a sub-committee, which was composed of chemists specially conversant with the treatment of leather, was directed specially to the elucidation of the following points: an investigation of the nature of the decay of leather used for bookbinding; an examination of the causes which produced this decay; a research into the best methods of preparing leather for bookbinding; and a consideration of the points required to be dealt with in the preservation of books. "taking these points in order, the first one dealt with is the question of the nature of the decay of leather. to arrive at their conclusions on this subject, the sub-committee made a number of tests and analyses of samples of decayed leather bookbindings, as well as of leathers used for binding. the committee found that the most prevalent decay was what they term a red decay, and this they think may be differentiated into old and new, the old red decay being noticeable up to about , and the new decay since that date. in the old decay, the leather becomes hard and brittle, the surface not being easily abraded by friction. the older form is specially noticeable in calf-bound books, tanned presumably with oak bark. the new form affects nearly all leathers, and in extreme cases seems absolutely to destroy the fibres. another form of deterioration, more noticeable in the newer books, renders the grain of the leather liable to peel off when exposed to the slightest friction. this is the most common form of decay noted in the more recent leathers. in nearly all samples of russia leather a very violent form of red decay was noticed. in many cases the leather was found to be absolutely rotten in all parts exposed to light and air, so that on the very slightest rubbing with a blunt instrument the leather fell into fine dust.... "the second point is the cause of the decay. an extensive series of experiments was carried out with a view of determining the causes of the decay of bindings. the sub-committee find that this is caused by both mechanical and by chemical influences. of the latter, some are due to mistakes of the leather manufacturer and the bookbinder, others to the want of ventilation, and to improper heating and lighting of libraries. in some cases inferior leathers are finished (by methods in themselves injurious) so as to imitate the better class leathers, and of course where these are used durability cannot be expected. but in the main the injury for which the manufacturer and bookbinder are responsible must be attributed rather to ignorance of the effect of the means employed to give the leather the outward qualities required for binding, than to the intentional production of an inferior article.... leathers produced by different tanning materials, although they may be equally sound and durable mechanically, vary very much in their resistance to other influences, such as light, heat, and gas fumes. "for bookbinding purposes, the sub-committee generally condemn the use of tanning materials belonging to the catechol group, although the leathers produced by the use of these materials are for many purposes excellent, and indeed superior. the class of tanning materials which produce the most suitable leather for this particular purpose belong to the pyrogallol group, of which a well known and important example is sumach. east indian or 'persian' tanned sheep and goat skins, which are suitable for many purposes, and are now used largely for cheap bookbinding purposes, are considered extremely bad. books bound in these materials have been found to show signs of decay in less than twelve months, and the sub-committee are inclined to believe that no book bound in these leathers, exposed on a shelf to sunlight or gas fumes, can ever be expected to last more than five or six years. embossing leather under heavy pressure to imitate a grain has a very injurious effect, while the shaving of thick skins greatly reduces the strength of the leather by cutting away the tough fibres of the inner part of the skin. the use of mineral acids in brightening the colour of leather, and in the process of dyeing, has a serious effect in lessening its resistance to decay. a good deal yet remains to be learned about the relative permanency of the different dyes." on analysis free sulphuric acid was found to be present in nearly all bookbinding leather, and it is the opinion of the committee that even a small quantity of this acid materially lessens the durability of the leather. "it has been shown by careful experiment, that even a minute quantity of sulphuric acid used in the dye bath to liberate the colour is at once absorbed by the leather, and that no amount of subsequent washing will remove it. in a very large proportion of cases the decay of modern sumach-tanned leather has been due to the sulphuric acid used in the dye bath, and retained in the skin. we have examined very many samples of leather manufactured and sold specially for bookbinding purposes, from different factories, bought from different dealers, or kindly supplied by bookbinders and by librarians, and have found them to contain, in a large number of cases, free sulphuric acid, from . up to . per cent." the publication of the report should tend to fix a standard for bookbinding leather. hitherto there has been no recognised standard. bookbinders have selected leather almost entirely by its appearance. it has now been shown that appearance is no test of durability, and the mechanical test of tearing the leather is insufficient. sound leather should tear with difficulty, and the torn edges should be fringed with long, silky fibres, and any leather which tears very easily, and shows short, curled-up fibres at the torn edges, should be discarded. but though good bookbinding leather will tear with difficulty, and show long fibres where torn, that is in itself not a sufficient test; because it has been shown that the leather that is mechanically the strongest, is not necessarily the most durable and the best able to resist the adverse influences to which books are subject in libraries. the report shows that bookbinders and librarians are not, as a general rule, qualified to select leather for bookbinding. in the old days, when the manufacture of leather was comparatively simple, a bookbinder might reasonably be expected to know enough of the processes employed to be able to select his leather. but now so complicated is the manufacture, and so many are the factors to be considered, that an expert should be employed. "the committee have satisfied themselves that it is possible to test any leather in such a way as to guarantee its suitability for bookbinding. they have not come to any decision as to the desirability of establishing any formal or official standard, though they consider that this is a point which well deserves future consideration." it is to be hoped that some system of examining and hall-marking leather by some recognised body, may be instituted. if librarians will specify that the leather to be employed must be certified to be manufactured according to the recommendations of the society of arts committee, there is no reason why leathers should not be obtained as durable as any ever produced. this would necessitate the examining and testing of batches of leather by experts. at present this can be done more or less privately at various places, such as the yorkshire college, leeds, or the herolds' institute, bermondsey. in the near future it is to be hoped that some recognised public body, such as one of the great city companies interested in leather, may be induced to establish a standard, and to test such leathers as are submitted to them, hall-marking those that come up to the standard. this would enable bookbinders and librarians, in ordering leather, to be sure that it had not been injured in its manufacture. the testing, if done by batches, should not add greatly to the cost of the leather. on the question of the qualities of an ideal bookbinding leather the committee report:-- "it is the opinion of the committee, that the ideal bookbinding leather must have, and retain, great flexibility.... (it) must have a firm grain surface, not easily damaged by friction, and should not be artificially grained.... the committee is of opinion that a pure sumach tannage will answer all these conditions, and that leather can, and will, be now produced that will prove to be as durable as any made in the past." the committee has so far only dealt with vegetable-tanned leather. i have used, with some success, chrome-tanned calfskin. chrome leather is difficult to pare, and to work, as it does not become soft when wet, like vegetable-tanned leather. it will stand any reasonable degree of heat, and so might perhaps be useful for top-shelf bindings and for shelf edging. it is extremely strong mechanically, but without further tests i cannot positively recommend it except for trial. while the strength and probable durability of leather can only be judged by a trained leather chemist, there remains for the binders selection, the kind of leather to use, and its colour. most of the leather prepared for bookbinding is too highly finished. the finishing processes add a good deal to the cost of the leather, and are apt to be injurious to it, and as much of the high finish is lost in covering, it would be better for the bookbinder to get rougher leather and finish it himself when it is on the book. the leathers in common use for bookbinding are:-- goatskin, known as morocco. calf, known as calf and russia. sheepskin, known as roan, basil, skiver, &c. pigskin, known as pigskin. sealskin, known as seal. _morocco_ is probably the best leather for extra binding if properly prepared, but experiment has shown that the expensive levant moroccos are nearly always ruined in their manufacture. a great many samples of the most expensive levant morocco were tested, with the result that they were all found to contain free sulphuric acid. _calf._--modern vegetable-tanned calf has become a highly unsatisfactory material, and until some radical changes are made in the methods of manufacturing it, it should not be used for bookbinding. _sheepskin._--a properly tanned sheepskin makes a very durable, though rather soft and woolly, leather. much of the bookbinding leather now made from sheepskin is quite worthless. bookbinders should refuse to have anything to do with any leather that has been artificially grained, as the process is apt to be highly injurious to the skin. _pigskin._--pigskin is a thoroughly good leather naturally, and very strong, especially the alumed skins; but many of the dyed pigskins are found to be improperly tanned and dyed, and worthless for bookbinding. _sealskin_ is highly recommended by one eminent librarian, but i have not yet had any experience of its use for bookbinding. the leather that i have found most useful is the niger goatskin, brought from africa by the royal niger company; it is a very beautiful colour and texture, and has stood all the tests tried, without serious deterioration. the difficulty with this leather is that, being a native production, it is somewhat carelessly prepared, and is much spoiled by flaws and stains on the surface, and many skins are quite worthless. it is to be hoped that before long some of the manufacturers interested will produce skins as good in quality and colour as the best niger morocco, and with fewer flaws. much leather is ruined in order to obtain an absolutely even colour. a slight unevenness of colours is very pleasing, and should rather be encouraged than objected to. that the want of interest in absolutely flat colours has been felt, is shown by the frequency with which the binders get rid of flat, even colours by sprinkling and marbling. on this point i may quote from the committee: "the sprinkling of leather, either for the production of 'sprinkled' calf or 'tree' calf, with ferrous sulphate (green vitriol) must be most strongly condemned, as the iron combines with and destroys the tan in the leather, and free sulphuric acid is liberated, which is still more destructive. iron acetate or lactate is somewhat less objectionable, but probably the same effects may be obtained with aniline colours without risk to the leather." chapter xx paper--pastes--glue paper paper may be made by hand or machinery, and either "laid" or "wove." "laid" papers are distinguished by wire marks, which are absent in "wove" paper. a sheet of hand-made paper has all round it a rough uneven edge called the "deckle," that is a necessary result of its method of manufacture. the early printers looked upon this ragged edge as a defect, and almost invariably trimmed most of it off before putting books into permanent bindings. book-lovers quite rightly like to find traces of the "deckle" edge, as evidence that a volume has not been unduly reduced by the binder. but it has now become the fashion to admire the "deckle" for its own sake, and to leave books on hand-made paper absolutely untrimmed, with ragged edges that collect the dirt, are unsightly, and troublesome to turn over. so far has this craze gone, that machine-made paper is often put through an extra process to give it a sham deckle edge. roughly speaking, paper varies in quality according to the proportion of fibrous material, such as rag, used in the manufacture. to make paper satisfactorily by hand, a large proportion of such fibrous material is necessary, so that the fact that the paper is hand-made is to some extent a guarantee of its quality. there are various qualities of hand-made paper, made from different materials, chiefly linen and cotton rags. the best paper is made from pure linen rag, and poorer hand-made paper from cotton rag, while other qualities contain a mixture of the two or other substances. it is possible to make a thoroughly good paper by machinery if good materials are used. some excellent papers are made by machinery; but the enormous demand for paper, together with the fact that now almost any fibrous material can be made into paper, has resulted in the production, in recent years, of, perhaps, the worst papers that have ever been seen. this would not matter if the use of the poor papers were restricted to newspapers and other ephemeral literature, but when, as is often the case, paper of very poor quality is used for books of permanent literary interest, the matter is serious enough. among the worst papers made are the heavily loaded "art" papers that are prepared for the printing of half-toned process blocks. it is to be hoped that before long the paper makers will produce a paper that, while suitable for printing half-toned blocks, will be more serviceable, and will have a less unpleasant surface. several makers produce coloured handmade papers suitable for end papers. machine-made papers can be had in endless variety from any number of makers. the paper known as "japanese vellum" is a very tough material, and will be found useful for repairing vellum books; the thinnest variety of it is very suitable for mending the backs of broken sections, or for strengthening weak places in paper. the following delightful account of paper making by hand is quoted from "evelyn's diary, - ." "i went to see my lord of st. alban's house at byflete, an old large building. thence to the paper mills, where i found them making a coarse white paper. they cull the raggs, which are linnen, for white paper, woollen for brown, then they stamp them in troughs to a papp with pestles or hammers like the powder-mills, then put it into a vessell of water, in which they dip a frame closely wyred with a wyre as small as a haire, and as close as a weaver's reede; on this they take up the papp, the superfluous water draining thro' the wyre; this they dextrously turning, shake out like a pancake on a smooth board between two pieces of flannell, then press it between a greate presse, the flannell sucking out the moisture; then taking it out they ply and dry it on strings, as they dry linnen in the laundry; then dip it in alum-water, lastly polish and make it up in quires. they put some gum in the water in which they macerate the raggs. the mark we find on the sheets is formed in the wyre." the following are the more usual sizes of printing papers-- inches. foolscap � ½ crown � post ¼ � ½ demy ½ � ½ medium � royal � double pott � " foolscap � super royal � double crown � imperial � double post ½ � ½ the corresponding sizes of hand-made papers may differ slightly from the above. although the above are the principal sizes named, almost any size can be made to order. the following is an extract from the report of the committee of the society of arts on the deterioration of paper, published in : "the committee find that the paper-making fibres may be ranged into four classes:-- a. cotton, flax, and hemp. b. wood, celluloses (_a_) sulphite process, and (_b_) soda and sulphate process. c. esparto and straw celluloses. d. mechanical wood pulp. in regard, therefore, to papers for books and documents of permanent value, the selection must be taken in this order, and always with due regard to the fulfilment of the conditions of normal treatment above dealt with as common to all papers." "the committee have been desirous of bringing their investigations to a practical conclusion in specific terms, viz. by the suggestion of standards of quality. it is evident that in the majority of cases, there is little fault to find with the practical adjustments which rule the trade. they are, therefore, satisfied to limit their specific findings to the following, viz., _normal standard of quality for book papers required for publications of permanent value._ for such papers they would specify as follows:-- "_fibres._ not less than per cent. of fibres of class a. "_sizing._ not more than per cent. rosin, and finished with the normal acidity of pure alum. "_loading._ not more than per cent. total mineral matter (ash). "with regard to written documents, it must be evident that the proper materials are those of class a, and that the paper should be pure, and sized with gelatine, and not with rosin. all imitations of high-class writing papers, which are, in fact, merely disguised printing papers, should be carefully avoided." pastes to make paste for covering books, &c., take oz. of flour, and ¼ oz. of powdered alum, and well mix with enough water to form a thin paste, taking care to break up any lumps. add a pint of cold water, and heat gently in an enamelled saucepan. as it becomes warm, it should be stirred from time to time, and when it begins to boil it should be continually stirred for about five minutes. it should then form a thick paste that can be thinned with warm water. of course any quantity can be made if the proportions are the same. paste for use is best kept in a wooden trough, called a "paste tub." the paste tub will need to be cleaned out from time to time, and all fragments of dry paste removed. this can easily be done if it is left, overnight, filled with water. before using, the paste should be well beaten up with a flat stick. for pasting paper, it should have about the consistency and smoothness of cream; for leather, it can be thicker. for very thick leather a little thin glue may be added. paste made with alum will keep about a fortnight, but can be kept longer by the addition of corrosive sublimate in the proportion of one part of corrosive sublimate to a thousand parts of paste. corrosive sublimate, being a deadly poison, will prevent the attack of bookworms or other insects, but for the same reason must only be used by responsible people, and paste in which it is used must be kept out of the way of domestic animals. several makes of excellent prepared paste can be bought in london. these pastes are as cheap as can be made, and keep good a long time. paste that has become sour should never be used, as there is danger that the products of its acid fermentation may injure the leather. paste tubs as sold often have an iron bar across them to wipe the brush on. this should be removed, and replaced by a piece of twisted cord. paste brushes should be bound with string or zinc; copper or iron will stain the paste. white paste for mending a good paste for mending is made from a teaspoonful of ordinary flour, two teaspoonsful of cornflour, half a teaspoonful of alum, and three ounces of water. these should be carefully mixed, breaking up all lumps, and then should be heated in a clean saucepan, and stirred all the time with a wooden or bone spoon. the paste should boil for about five minutes, but not too fast, or it will burn and turn brown. rice-flour or starch may be substituted for cornflour, and for very white paper the wheaten flour may be omitted. ordinary paste is not nearly white enough for mending, and is apt to leave unsightly stains. cornflour paste may be used directly after it is made, and will keep good under ordinary circumstances for about a week. directly it gets hard or goes watery, a new batch must be made. glue it is important for bookbinders that the glue used should be of good quality, and the best hide glue will be found to answer well. to prepare it for use, the glue should be broken up into small pieces and left to soak overnight in water. in the morning it should be soft and greatly swollen, but not melted, and can then be put in the glue-pot and gently simmered until it is fluid. it is then ready for use. glue loses in quality by being frequently heated, so that it is well not to make a great quantity at a time. the glue-pot should be thoroughly cleaned out before new glue is put into it, and the old glue sticking round the sides taken out. glue should be used hot and not too thick. if it is stringy and difficult to work, it can be broken up by rapidly twisting the brush in the glue-pot. for paper the glue should be very thin and well worked up with the brush before using. the following is quoted from "chambers' encyclopædia" article on glue:-- "while england does not excel in the manufacture, it is a recognised fact that scottish glue ... ranks in the front of the glues of all countries. a light-coloured glue is not necessarily good, nor a dark-coloured glue necessarily bad. a bright, clear, claret colour is the natural colour of hide glue, which is the best and most economical. "light-coloured glues (as distinguished from gelatine) are made either from bones or sheepskins. the glue yielded by these materials cannot compare with the strength of that yielded by hides. "a great quantity is now made in france and germany from bones. it is got as a by-product in the manufacture of animal charcoal. although beautiful to look at, it is found when used to be far inferior to scottish hide glue." part ii care of books when bound chapter xxi injurious influences to which books are subjected _gas fumes._--the investigation of the society of arts committee shows that-- "of all the influences to which books are exposed in libraries, gas fumes--no doubt because of the sulphuric and sulphurous acid which they contain--are shown to be the most injurious." the injurious effects of gas fumes on leather have been recognised for a long time, and gas is being, very generally, given up in libraries in consequence. if books must be kept where gas is used, they should not be put high up in the room, and great attention should be paid to ventilation. it is far better, where possible, to avoid the use of gas at all in libraries. _light._--the committee also report that "light, and especially direct sunlight and hot air, are shown to possess deleterious influences which had scarcely been suspected previously, and the importance of moderate temperature and thorough ventilation of libraries cannot be too much insisted on." the action of light on leather has a disintegrating effect, very plainly seen when books have stood for long periods on shelves placed at right angles to windows. at oxford and cambridge and at the british museum library the same thing was noticed. the leather on that side, of the backs of books, next to the light, was absolutely rotten, crumbling to dust at the slightest friction, while at the side away from the light it was comparatively sound. vellum bindings were even more affected than those of leather. the committee advise that library windows exposed to the direct sunlight should be glazed with tinted glass. "some attempts have been made to determine the effect of light transmitted through glasses of different colours, and they point to the fact that blue and violet glass pass light of nearly as deleterious quality as white glass; while leathers under red, green, and yellow glasses were almost completely protected. there can be no doubt that the use of pale yellow or olive-green glass in library windows exposed to direct sunlight is desirable. a large number of experiments have been made on the tinted 'cathedral' glasses of messrs. pilkington bros., limited, with the result that nos. and afforded almost complete protection during two months' exposure to sunlight, while nos. and may be recommended where only very pale shades are permissible. the glasses employed were subjected to careful spectroscopic examination, and to colour-measurement by the tintometer, but neither were found to give precise indications as to the protective power of the glasses, which is no doubt due to the absorption of the violet, and especially of the invisible ultra-violet rays. an easy method of comparing glasses is to expose under them to sunlight the ordinary sensitised albumenised photographic paper. those glasses under which this is least darkened are also most protective to leather." _tobacco._--smoking was found to be injurious, and it is certainly a mistake to allow it in libraries. "the effect of ammonia vapour, and tobacco fumes, of which ammonia is one of the active ingredients, was also examined. the effect of ammonia fumes was very marked, darkening every description of leather, and it is known that in extreme cases it causes a rapid form of decay. tobacco smoke had a very similar darkening and deleterious effect (least marked in the case of sumach tanned leathers), and there can be no doubt that the deterioration of bindings in a library where smoking was permitted and the rooms much used, must have been partly due to this cause." _damp._--books kept in damp places will develop mildew, and both leather and paper will be ruined. where possible, naturally dry rooms should be used for libraries, and if not naturally dry, every means possible should be taken to render them so. it will sometimes be found that the only way to keep the walls of an old house dry is to put in a proper dampcourse. there are various other methods employed, such as lining the walls with thin lead, or painting them inside and out with some waterproofing preparation: but as long as a wall remains in itself damp, it is doubtful if any of these things will permanently keep the damp from penetrating. bookshelves should never be put against the wall, nor the books on the floor. there should always be space for air to circulate on all sides of the bookshelves. damp is specially injurious if books are kept behind closely-fitting doors. the doors of bookcases should be left open from time to time on warm days. should mildew make its appearance, the books should be taken out, dried and aired, and the bookshelves thoroughly cleaned. the cause of the damp should be sought for, and measures taken to remedy it. library windows should not be left open at night, nor during damp weather, but in warm fine weather the more ventilation there is, the better. _heat._--while damp is very injurious to books on account of the development of mildew, unduly hot dry air is almost as bad, causing leather to dry up and lose its flexibility. on this point the chairman of the society of arts committee says:-- "rooms in which books are kept should not be subject to extremes, whether of heat or cold, of moisture or dryness. it may be said that the better adapted a room is for human occupation, the better for the books it contains. damp is, of course, most mischievous, but over-dryness induced by heated air, especially when the pipes are in close proximity to the bookcases, is also very injurious." _dust._--books should be taken from the shelves at least once a year, dusted and aired, and the bindings rubbed with a preservative. to dust a book, it should be removed from the shelf, and without being opened, turned upside down and flicked with a feather duster. if a book with the dust on the top is held loosely in the hand, and dusted right way up, dust may fall between the leaves. dusting should be done in warm, dry weather; and afterwards, the books may be stood on the table slightly open, to air, with their leaves loose. before being returned to the shelves, the bindings should be lightly rubbed with some preservative preparation (see chap. xxii). any bindings that are broken, or any leaves that are loose should be noted, and the books put on one side to be sent to the binder. it would be best when the library is large enough to warrant it, to employ a working bookbinder to do this work; such a man would be useful in many ways. he could stick on labels, repair bindings, and do many other odd jobs to keep the books in good repair. a bookbinder could be kept fully employed, binding and repairing the books of a comparatively small library under the direction of the librarian. bookworms the insects known as bookworms are the larvæ of several sorts of beetles, most commonly perhaps of _antobium domesticum_ and _niptus hololencus_. they are not in any way peculiar to books and will infest the wood of bookshelves, walls, or floors. a good deal can be done to keep "worms" away by using such substances as camphor or naphthaline in the bookcase. bookworms do not attack modern books very much; probably they dislike the alum put in the paste and the mill-boards made of old tarred rope. in old books, especially such as come from italy, it is often found that the ravages of the bookworms are almost entirely confined to the glue on the backs of the books, and it generally seems that the glue and paste attract them. probably if corrosive sublimate were put in the glue and paste used it would stop their attacks. alum is said to be a preventive, but i have known bookworms to eat their way through leather pasted on with paste containing alum, when, in recovering, the old wooden boards containing bookworms have been utilised in error. when on shaking the boards of an old book dust flies out, or when little heaps of dust are found on the shelf on which an old book has been standing, it may be considered likely that there are bookworms present. it is easy to kill any that may be hatched, by putting the book in an air-tight box surrounded with cotton wool soaked in ether; but that will not kill the eggs, and the treatment must be repeated from time to time at intervals of a few weeks. any book that is found to contain bookworms should be isolated and at once treated. tins may be put inside the boards to prevent the "worms" eating into the leaves. speaking of bookworms, jules cousin says:-- "one of the simplest means to be employed (to get rid of bookworms) is to place behind the books, especially in the place where the insects show their presence most, pieces of linen soaked with essence of turpentine, camphor, or an infusion of tobacco, and to renew them when the smell goes off. a little fine pepper might also be scattered on the shelf, the penetrating smell of which would produce the same effect." possibly keating's insect powder would answer as well or better than pepper. rats and mice rats and mice will gnaw the backs of books to get at the glue, so, means should be taken to get rid of these vermin if they should appear. mice especially will nibble vellum binding or the edges of vellum books that have become greasy with much handling. cockroaches cockroaches are very troublesome in libraries, eating the bindings. keating's insect powder will keep them away from books, but only so long as it is renewed at short intervals. placing the books in the shelves the chairman of the society of arts special committee says on this point:-- "it is important that a just medium should be observed between the close and loose disposition of books in the shelves. tight packing causes the pulling off of the tops of book-backs, injurious friction between their sides, and undue pressure, which tends to force off their backs. but books should not stand loosely on the shelves. they require support and moderate lateral pressure, otherwise the leaves are apt to open and admit dust, damp, and mildew. the weight of the leaves also in good-sized volumes loosely placed will often be found to be resting on the shelf, making the backs concave, and spoiling the shape and cohesion of the books. "in libraries where classification is attempted there must be a certain number of partially filled shelves. the books in these should be kept in place by some such device as that in use in the british museum, namely, a simple flat angle piece of galvanised iron, on the lower flange of which the end books rest, keeping it down, the upright flange keeping the books close and preventing them from spreading." he also speaks of the danger to bindings of rough or badly-painted bookshelves:-- "great care should be exercised when bookcases are painted or varnished that the surface should be left hard, smooth, and dry. bindings, especially those of delicate texture, may be irreparably rubbed if brought in contact with rough or coarsely-painted surfaces, while the paint itself, years after its original application, is liable to come off upon the books, leaving indelible marks. in such cases pasteboard guards against the ends of the shelves are the only remedy." chapter xxii to preserve old bindings--re-backing to preserve old bindings it is a well-known fact that the leather of bindings that are much handled lasts very much better than that on books which remain untouched on the shelves. there is little doubt that the reason for this is that the slight amount of grease the leather receives from the hands nourishes it and keeps it flexible. a coating of glair or varnish is found to some extent to protect leather from adverse outside influences, but, unfortunately, both glair and varnish tend rather to harden leather than to keep it flexible, and they fail just where failure is most serious, that is at the joints. in opening and shutting, any coat of glair or varnish that has become hard will crack, and expose the leather of the joint and back. flexibility is an essential quality in bookbinding leather, for as soon as the leather at the joint of a binding becomes stiff it breaks away when the boards are opened. it would add immensely to the life of old leather bindings if librarians would have them treated, say once a year, with some preservative. the consequent expense would be saved many times over by the reduction of the cost of rebinding. such a preservative must not stain, must not evaporate, must not become hard, and must not be sticky. vaseline has been recommended, and answers fairly well, but will evaporate, although slowly. i have found that a solution of paraffin wax in castor oil answers well. it is cheap and very simple to prepare. to prepare it, some castor oil is put into an earthenware jar, and about half its weight of paraffin wax shredded into it. on warming, the wax will melt, and the preparation is ready for use. a little of the preparation is well worked into a piece of flannel, and the books rubbed with it, special attention being paid to the back and joints. they may be further rubbed with the hand, and finally gone over with a clean, soft cloth. very little of the preparation need be used on each book. if bindings have projecting metal corners or clasps that are likely to scratch the neighbouring books, pieces of mill-board, which may be lined with leather or good paper, should be placed next them, or they may have a cover made of a piece of mill-board bent round as shown at fig. , and strengthened at the folds with linen. this may be slipped into the shelf with the book with the open end outwards, and will then hardly be seen. [illustration: fig. .] bindings which have previously had metal clasps, &c., often have projecting fragments of the old nails. these should be sought for and carefully removed or driven in, as they may seriously damage any bindings with which they come in contact. to protect valuable old bindings, cases may be made and lettered on the back with the title of the book. loose covers that necessitate the bending back of the boards for their removal are not recommended. re-backing bindings that have broken joints may be re-backed. any of the leather of the back that remains should be carefully removed and preserved. it is impossible to get some leathers off tight backs without destroying them, but with care and by the use of a thin folder, many backs can be saved. the leather on the boards is cut a little back from the joint with a slanting cut, that will leave a thin edge, and is then lifted up with a folder. new leather, of the same colour is pasted on the back, and tucked in under the old leather on the board. the leather from the old back should have its edges pared and any lumps of glue or paper removed and be pasted on to the new leather and bound tightly with tape to make sure that it sticks. when the leather at the corners of the board needs repairing, the corner is glued and tapped with a hammer to make it hard and square, and when it is dry a little piece of new leather is slipped under the old and the corner covered. when the sewing cords or thread of a book have perished it should be rebound, but if there are any remains of the original binding they should be preserved and utilised. if the old boards have quite perished, new boards of the same nature and thickness should be got out and the old cover pasted over them. such places as the old leather will not cover, must first be covered with new of the same colour. generally speaking, it is desirable that the characteristics of an old book should be preserved, and that the new work should be as little in evidence as possible. it is far more pleasant to see an old book in a patched contemporary binding, than smug and tidy in the most immaculate modern cover. part of the interest of any old book is its individual history, which can be gathered from the binding, book-plates, marginal notes, names of former owners, &c., and anything that tends to obliterate these signs is to be deplored. specifications specifications for bookbinding these specifications will require modification in special cases, and are only intended to be a general guide. ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- | sheets. | end papers. | pressing.| edges. | sewing. | back. ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- |to be |to be sewn |books on |to be |to be with|to be i. |carefully|on. to be of |handmade |trimmed |ligature |kept for extra |folded, |good paper |paper not |and gilt|silk, |as binding |or, if |made with |to be |before |flexible, |flat suitable |an old |zigzag, with |pressed |sewing. |round five|as it for valuable|book, all|board papers |unduly. |to be |bands of |can be books. whole|damaged |of self- | |uncut. |best |without leather. |leaves to|coloured | | |sewing |forcing |be |paper of good| | |cord. |it and |carefully|quality, or | | | |without |mended, |vellum. or to| | | |danger |the backs|be made with | | | |of its |where |leather | | | |becom- |damaged |joint. | | | |ing |to be | | | | |concave |made | | | | |in use. |sound. | | | | | |single | | | | | |leaves | | | | | |to be | | | | | |guarded | | | | | |round | | | | | |the | | | | | |sections | | | | | |next | | | | | |them. all| | | | | |plates to| | | | | |be | | | | | |guarded. | | | | | |guards to| | | | | |be sewn | | | | | |through. | | | | | |no past- | | | | | |ing on | | | | | |or over- | | | | | |casting | | | | | |to be | | | | | |allowed. | | | | | ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- |as no. |to be of good|same as |to be |to be with|same as ii. |i., |paper made |no. i. |cut and |unbleached|for no. for good |excepting|with zigzag, | |gilt in |thread, |i. binding for |that any |with board | |boards |flexible, | books of |mending |papers of | |or |round five| reference, |may be |self-coloured| |coloured|bands of | catalogues, |done |paper of good| |or to be|best | &c., and |rather |quality. | |uncut. |sewing | other heavy |with a |large or | | |cord. | books that |view to |heavy books | | | | may have a |strength |to have a | | | | great deal |than |cloth joint. | | | | of use. |extreme |to be sewn | | | | whole or |neatness.|on. | | | | half | | | | | | leather. | | | | | | ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- |same as |to be of good|same as |to be |to be with|same as iii. |no. ii. |paper, sewn |no. i. |uncut, |unbleached|for for binding | |on, made with| |or to be|thread |nos. i. for | |zigzag. | |cut in |across not|and ii. libraries, | | | |guillo- |less than | iv. for | | | |tine and|four | books in | | | |gilt or |unbleached| current | | | |coloured|linen | use. half | | | |or to |tapes. | leather. | | | |have top| | | | | |edge | | | | | |only | | | | | |gilt. | | ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- |any |same as no. | |may be |with |back to iv. |leaves |iii. | |cut |unbleached|be left for library |damaged | | |smooth |thread |square bindings of |at the | | |in |over three|after books of |back or | | |guillo- |unbleached|glueing little |plates | | |tine. |linen |up. interest or |to be | | | |tapes. | value, |overcast | | | | | cloth or |into | | | | | half linen. |sections.| | | | | ------------+---------+-------------+----------+--------+----------+------- specifications for bookbinding--(_continued_). ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- |boards. |headbands.| covers. |lettering.|decoration.| ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- |to be of|to be |goatskin |to be |to be as |all work i.	 |the best|worked |(morocco),|legible |much or as |to be for extra |black |with silk |pigskin |and to |little as |done in binding |mill- |on strips |or seal- |identify |the nature |the best suitable |board. |of vellum |skin manu-|the |of the book|manner. for valuable|two |or catgut |factured |volume. |warrants. | books. whole|boards |or cord, |according | | | leather. |to be |with |to the | | | |made |frequent |recommend-| | | |together|tie-downs.|ations of | | | |for |the head- |the | | | |large |bands to |society | | | |books, |be "set" |of arts' | | | |and all |by pieces |committee | | | |five |of good |on leather| | | |bands |paper or |for | | | |laced in|leather |book- | | | |through |glued at |binding. | | | |two |head and |whole | | | |holes. |tail. the |binding; | | | | |back to be|leather | | | | |lined up |to be | | | | |with |attached | | | | |leather |directly | | | | |all over |to the | | | | |if the |back. | | | | |book is | | | | | |large. | | | | ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- |same as |same as |same as |same as |to be |work may ii. |no. i., |no. i. |no. i., |no. i. |omitted, or|be a for good |or may | |excepting | |only to |little binding for |be of | |that | |consist of |rougher, books of |good | |properly | |a few lines|but not reference, |grey | |prepared | |or dots or |careless catalogues, |board. | |sheepskin | |other |or &c., and | | |may be | |quite |dirty. other heavy | | |added. | |simple | books that | | |half- | |ornament. | may have | | |binding, | | | a great deal| | |leather | | | of use. | | |only at | | | whole or | | |back. | | | half | | |corners | | | leather. | | |to be | | | | | |strength- | | | | | |ened with | | | | | |tips of | | | | | |vellum. | | | | | |sides | | | | | |covered | | | | | |with good | | | | | |paper | | | | | |or linen. | | | ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- |to be |to be |same as |same as |to be |same as iii. |split |worked |nos. i. |nos. i. |omitted. |no. ii. for binding |grey |with |and ii., |and ii. | | for |boards, |thread |but skins | | | libraries, |or |or vellum |may be | | | for books |straw- |or cord, |used where| | | in current |board |or to be |there are | | | use. half |with |omitted |surface | | | leather. |black |and a |flaws that| | | |board |piece of |do not | | | |liner, |cord |affect the| | | |with |inserted |strength. | | | |ends |into the |leather to| | | |of tapes|turn in |be used | | | |attached|of the |thicker | | | |to |leather at|than is | | | |portion |head and |usual, | | | |of waste|tail in |there | | | |sheet, |their |being | | | |inserted|place. |french | | | |between | |joints. | | | |them. | |leather at| | | |boards | |back only;| | | |to be | |paper | | | |left a | |sides; | | | |short | |vellum | | | |distance| |tips. | | | |from the| | | | | |joint | | | | | |to form | | | | | |a french| | | | | |joint. | | | | | ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- |to be |no |whole |same as |to be |same as iv. |split |headbands.|buckram |nos. i. |omitted. |no. ii. for library |boards, | |or half |ii. and | | bindings of |two | |linen and |iii. | | books of |straw- | |paper | | | little |boards | |sides. | | | interest or |made | | | | | value, cloth|together| | | | | or half |and ends| | | | | linen. |of slips| | | | | |insert- | | | | | |ed. | | | | | |french | | | | | |joint to| | | | | |be left.| | | | | ------------+--------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+-------- glossary _arming press_, a small blocking press used for striking arms-blocks on the sides of books. _backing boards_, wedge-shaped bevelled boards used in backing (see fig. ). _backing machine_, used for backing cheap work in large quantities; it often crushes and damages the backs of the sections. _bands_, ( ) the cords on which a book is sewn. ( ) the ridges on the back caused by the bands showing through the leather. _band nippers_, pincers with flat jaws, used for straightening the bands (see fig. ). for nipping up the leather after covering, they should be nickelled to prevent the iron staining the leather. _beating stone_, the "stone" on which books were formerly beaten; now generally superseded by the rolling machine and standing press. _blind tooling_, the impression of finishing tools without gold. _blocking press_, a press used for impressing blocks such as those used in decorating cloth cases. _board papers_, the part of the end papers pasted on to the boards. _bodkin_, an awl used for making the holes in the boards for the slips. _bolt_, folded edge of the sheets in an unopened book. _cancels_, leaves containing errors, which have to be discarded and replaced by corrected sheets. such leaves are marked by the printer with a star. _catch-word_, a word printed at the foot of one page indicating the first word of the page following, as a guide in collating. _cutting boards_, wedge-shaped boards somewhat like backing boards, but with the top edge square; used in cutting the edge of a book and in edge-gilding. _cutting in boards_, cutting the edges of a book after the boards are laced on. _cutting press_, when the lying press is turned, so that the side with the runners is uppermost, it is called a cutting press (see fig. ). _diaper_, a term applied to a small repeating all-over pattern. from woven material decorated in this way. _doublure_, the inside face of the boards, especially applied to them when lined with leather and decorated. _end papers_, papers added at the beginning and end of a book by the binder. _extra binding_, a trade term for the best work. _finishing_, comprises lettering, tooling, and polishing, &c. _finishing press_, a small press used for holding books when they are being tooled (see fig. ). _finishing stove_, used for heating finishing tools. _folder_, a flat piece of ivory or bone, like a paper knife, used in folding sheets and in various other operations. _foredge_ (fore edge), the front edge of the leaves. pronounced "forrege." _forwarding_, comprises all the operations between sewing and finishing, excepting headbanding. _gathering_, collecting one sheet from each pile in a printer's warehouse to make up a volume. _glaire_, white of eggs beaten up, and used in finishing and edge gilding. _half binding_, when the leather covers the back and only part of the sides, a book is said to be half bound. _head band_, a fillet of silk or thread, worked at the head and tail of the back. _head cap_, the fold of leather over the head band (see fig. ). _head and tail_, the top and bottom of a book. _imperfections_, sheets rejected by the binder and returned to the printer to be replaced. _india proofs_, strictly first proofs only of an illustration pulled on "india paper," but used indiscriminately for all illustrations printed on india paper. _inset_, the portion of a sheet cut off and inserted in folding certain sizes, such as duodecimo, &c. (see fig. ). _inside margins_, the border made by the turn in of the leather on the inside face of the boards (see fig. ). _joints_, ( ) the groove formed in backing to receive the ends of the mill-boards. ( ) the part of the binding that bends when the boards are opened. ( ) strips of leather or cloth used to strengthen the end papers. "_kettle stitch_," catch stitch formed in sewing at the head and tail. _lacing in_, lacing the slips through holes in the boards to attach them. _lying press_, the term applied to the under side of the cutting press used for backing, usually ungrammatically called "laying press." _marbling_, colouring the edges and end papers in various patterns, obtained by floating colours on a gum solution. _millboard machine_, machine used for squaring boards; should only be used for cheap work, as an edge cut by it will not be as square as if cut by the plough. _mitring_, ( ) lines meeting at a right angle without overrunning are said to be mitred. ( ) a join at ° as in the leather on the inside of the boards. _overcasting_, over-sewing the back edges of single leaves or weak sections. _peel_, a thin board on a handle used for hanging up sheets for drying. _plate_, an illustration printed from a plate. term often incorrectly applied to illustrations printed from woodcuts. any full-page illustration printed on different paper to the book is usually called a "plate." _pressing plates_, plates of metal japanned or nickelled, used for giving finish to the leather on a book. _press pin_, an iron bar used for turning the screws of presses. _proof_, edges left uncut as "proof" that the book has not been unduly cut down. _register_, (i.) when the print on one side of a leaf falls exactly over that on the other it is said to register. (ii.) ribbon placed in a book as a marker. _rolling machine_, a machine in which the sheets of a book are subject to heavy pressure by being passed between rollers. _sawing in_, when grooves are made in the back with a saw to receive the bands. _section_, the folded sheet. _semée_ or _semis_, an heraldic term signifying sprinkled. _set off_, print is said to "set off" when part of the ink from a page comes off on an opposite page. this will happen if a book is pressed too soon after printing. _sheet_, the full size of the paper as printed, forming a section when folded. _signature_, the letter or figure placed on the first page of each sheet. _slips_, the ends of the sewing cord or tape that are attached to the boards. _squares_, the portion of the boards projecting beyond the edges of the book. _start_, when, after cutting, one or more sections of the book come forward, making the fore edge irregular, they are said to have started. _straight edge_, a flat ruler. _tacky_, sticky. _t. e. g._, top-edge gilt. _trimmed._ the edges of a book are said to be trimmed when the edges of the larger (or projecting) leaves only have been cut. _tub_, the stand which supports the lying press. originally an actual tub to catch the shavings. _uncut_, a book is said to be uncut when the edges of the paper have not been cut with the plough or guillotine. _unopened_, the book is said to be unopened if the bolts of the sheets have not been cut. _waterproof sheets_, sheets of celluloid, such as are used by photographers. _whole binding_, when the leather covers the back and sides of a volume. _wire staples_ are used by certain machines in the place of thread for securing the sections. _groove_, that part of the sections which is turned over in backing to receive the board. reproductions of bindings i., ii., and iii. fifteenth century blind-tooled bindings iv. sixteenth century binding with simple gold-tooling v., vi., vii., and viii. modern bindings designed by the author [illustration: i.--german fifteenth century. pigskin. actual size, ¾" � ¼".] [illustration: ii.--german fifteenth century. calf. actual size ½" � ½".] [illustration: iii.--italian fifteenth century. sheepskin, with coloured roundels. actual size, ½" � ¼".] [illustration: iv.--italian sixteenth century. actual size, ½" � ½". goatskin.] [illustration: v.--half niger morocco, with sides of english oak. actual size, " � ½".] [illustration: vi.--niger morocco, inlaid green leaves. actual size, ¼" � ½".] [illustration: vii.--green levant, inlaid with lighter green panel and red dots. actual size, ¾" � ½".] [illustration: viii.--niger morocco, executed by a student of the central school of arts and crafts. actual size, ¾" � ¼".] index arming press, , arms blocks, art paper, , autograph letters, backing, backing hammer, back, lining up, band nippers, , bands, bandstick, beating, beating stone, , benzine, , binding, decoration of, , , , binding, collotype reproductions of, - binding, embroidered, binding early printed books, , , binding, extra, binding, jewelled, binding, library, , , binding, manuscripts, , , , , , binding, metal-covered, binding, vellum, binding very thin books, blind tooling, , blocking press, , blocks, striking, boards, boards, attaching, boards, cutting, boards, filling in, boards, lining, boards, pressing, , boards, split, , , bodkin, bookbinding as a profession, books in sheets, bookworms, borders, designing, borders, inside, calf, , cancelled sheets, cased books, , castor oil, catch stitch, catch words, celluloid, sheets of, centres, designing, chrome leather, clasps and ties, , cleaning off back, cloth casing, , cloth joints, , cobden-sanderson, t. j., xii., cockroaches, cocoanut oil, collating, colouring edges, combining tools to form patterns, compasses, cord sewing, corners, mitring, , cousin, jules, , covering, , , , crushing the grain of leather, cutting in boards, cutting mill-boards, cutting press, damp, effect of, on bindings, decoration of bindings, , , , designing tools, diaper patterns, dividers, dots, striking, doubluves, , dressing for old bindings, dust and dusting, early printed books, binding, , , edge colouring, edge gauffering, edge gilding, , edge sizing, , edges, painted, embroidered bindings, end papers, , end, painted, end, vellum, ends, silk, entering, evelyn's diary (quotation), "extra" binding, , false bands, fillet, , fillet, small, , filling in boards, finishing, finishing press, finishing tools, finishing stove, flattening vellum, folder, folding, fraying out slips, french joint, french paring knife, french standing press, gas fumes, effect of, gathering, gauffering edges, gelatine, gilding edges, , gilt top, glaire, , glass, tinted, for libraries, glossary, glue, glueing up, goatskin, gold cushion, gold leaf, gold knife, gold, net for, gold, pad for, gold tooling, , gouges, , , groove (_see_ joint) guarding, , guarding plates, , , hammer, backing, hand-made paper, headbanding, , , headcaps, , heat, effect of, on bindings, heraldry on bindings, hinging plates, hollow backs, , imperfections, india proofs, soaking off, india proofs, mounting, indiarubber for gold, inlaying leather, , , inlaying leaves or plates, inset, , inside margins, jaconet, , japanese paper, japanese vellum, jewelled bindings, joint, , joint, cloth, , joint, french, joint, knocking out, joint, leather, , kettle stitch, , , keys, sewing, knife, mountcutters', knife, french paring, knife, gold, knife, plough, , knocking down iron, , knocking out joints, knot, , lacing in slips, lay cords, laying press (_see_ lying press) leather, , leather, chrome, leather, crushing grain of, leather, inlaying, , , leather joints, , leather, paring, leather, polishing, leather, sprinkling and marbling, , leather, stretching, , leather, testing, leather work, leaves, inlaying, lettering, , , letters, autograph, library binding, , , light, effect of, on leather, lining up back, lithographic stone, , loose covers, lying press, manuscripts, binding of, , , , , , manuscripts, collating, maps, throwing out, marbled paper, margins, inside, marking up, materials for sewing, mending, mending tooling, mending vellum, metal on bindings, millboards, millboard machine, , millboard shears, mitring corners, , morocco, morocco, "persian," mount-cutters' knife, mounting india-proofs, mounting very thin paper, net for gilding edges, niger morocco, nipping press, nippers, band, , oil, cocoanut, opening newly-bound books, overcasting, "overs," oxalic acid, use of, pad for gold, paging, painted edges, painted end papers, pallets, paper, paper, art, , paper, hand-made, paper, japanese, paper, marbled, paper, sizes of, , paper, sizing, paper, splitting, paper, washing, paraffin wax, paring leather, paring paper, paring stone, , pastes, paste water, pasting down end papers, patterns, "peel," permanent binding, "persian" morocco, pigskin, plates, detaching, plates, guarding, plates, hinging, plates, inlaying, plates, trimming, plough, plough knife, , polishing, preserving old bindings, press, arming, , press, blocking, , press, cutting, press, finishing, press, lying, press, nipping, press pin, press, sewing (_see_ sewing frame) press, standing, pressing boards, , pressing in boards, pressing plates, , pressing sections, "proof," publishers' binding, pulling to pieces, quarter sections, quires, books in, rats and mice, re-backing, re-binding, , refolding, register of printing, , representations of bindings, - roll, rounding, sawing in, , , , scrap books, sealskin, sections, pressing, sewing, sewing cord, sewing frame, sewing keys, sewing on tapes, , , sewing on vellum slips, , sewing silk, sewing, tape for, sewing thread, sheepskin, - sheets, books in, sheets, waterproof, signatures, , silk ends, silk sewing, sizes of paper, , sizing, sizing edges, - sizing leather, sizing paper, slips, slips, fraying out, slips, lacing in, soaking off india proofs, society of arts, report of committee on leather for bookbinding, , society of arts, report of committee on paper, specifications, split boards, , , splitting paper, sprinkling leather, , squares, , , standing press, standing press, french, , staples, wire, "starred" sheets, stove, finishing, stone, lithographic, , striking dots, striking tools, tape, sewing on, , , temporary binding, testing leather, thin books, binding, thin paper, mounting, thread, sewing, throwing out maps, ties and clasps, , tobacco smoke, effect of, on binding, tooling, blind, , tooling, gold, , , tooling on vellum, tools, designing, , tools, finishing, , training for bookbinding, trimming before sewing, trimming machine, trimming plates, tub, tying up, varnish, vellum binders, vellum bindings, vellum ends, vellum, flattening, vellum, japanese, vellum, mending, vellum slips, sewing on, , vellum tooling on, walker, emery, washing, waterproof sheets, weaver's knot, wooden boards, , , , worm holes, , the artistic crafts series of technical handbooks. edited by w. r. lethaby. the series will appeal to handicraftsmen in the industrial and mechanic arts. it consists of authoritative statements by experts in every field for the exercise of ingenuity, taste, imagination--the whole sphere of the so-called "dependent arts." bookbinding and the care of books. a handbook for amateurs, bookbinders, and librarians. by douglas cockerell. with illustrations and diagrams by noel rooke, and collotype reproductions of binding. mo. $ . net. silverwork and jewelry. a text-book for students and workers in metal. by h. wilson. with diagrams and full-page illustrations, mo. $ . net. wood carving: design and workmanship. by george jack. with drawings by the author and other illustrations. $ . net. stained-glass work. a text-book for students and workers in glass. by c. w. whall. with diagrams by two of his apprentices, and other illustrations. $ . net; postage, cents additional. d. appleton and company, new york. transcriber's notes obvious typographic errors have been corrected. for the detailed list see below. the tables have been slightly modified to optimize presentation. page --typo fixed: changed 'making' to 'marking' page --spelling normalized: changed 'head-banding' to 'headbanding' page --typo fixed: changed 'wook' to 'wood' page --typo fixed: changed 'chapter viii' to 'chapter xiii' page --typo fixed: changed 'isinglas' to 'isinglass' page --spelling normalized: changed 'tie downs' to 'tie-downs' page --spelling normalized: changed 'headcap' to 'head-cap' page --spelling normalized: changed 'millboard' to 'mill-board' page --spelling normalized: changed 're-binding' to 'rebinding' page --spelling normalized: changed 'millboard' to 'mill-board' page --spelling normalized: changed 'goat-skin' to 'goatskin' page --spelling normalized: changed 'head-banding' to 'headbanding' page --spelling normalized: changed 'millboards' to 'mill-boards' page --spelling normalized: changed 'millboards' to 'mill-boards' page --spelling normalized: changed 're-folding' to 'refolding' famous reviews _from the same publishers_ famous speeches. first series. from cromwell to gladstone. selected and edited with introductory notes by herbert paul. in demy vo, cloth, pp. s. d. net. famous speeches. second series. from lord macaulay to lord rosebery. selected and edited with introductory notes by herbert paul. in demy vo, cloth, pp. s. d. net. famous sermons by english preachers. from the venerable bede to h.p. liddon. edited with historical and biographical notes by canon douglas macleane, m.a. in demy vo, cloth gilt. s. net. famous reviews selected and edited with introductory notes by r. brimley johnson authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true, but are not critics to their judgment too? _pope_. london contents preface of criticism and the critic the edinburgh review: editor's note from _the edinburgh review_ (founded ) lord jeffrey on-- [southey's "thalaba" [southey's laureate lays [thomas moore [wordsworth's "excursion" ["endymion" lord brougham on byron sydney smith on hannah more macaulay on-- [southey's colloquies [croker's "boswell" [w. e. gladstone [madame d'arblay anonymous on-- [wordsworth [maturin's "melmoth" the quarterly review: editor's note from _the quarterly review_ (founded ) gifford on-- [weber's "ford" [keats croker on-- [sydney smith [macaulay lockhart on-- [the author of "vathek" [s. t. coleridge sir walter scott on jane austen archbishop whately on jane austen w. e. gladstone on tennyson's poems canon wilberforce on--[darwin [cardinal newman anonymous on scott's--["waverley" ["tales of my landlord" anonymous on-- [leigh hunt's "rimini" ["shakespeare himself again" [moxon's sonnets ["vanity fair" and "jane eyre" [george eliot blackwood's magazine: editor's note from _blackwood's magazine_ (founded ) professor wilson on--[pope and wordsworth (_christopher north_) [lord byron [dr. johnson [crumbs from the "noctes" anonymous on-- [s. t. coleridge [the cockney school i [" " " iii [" " " iv [shelley's "prometheus" the westminster review: editor's note from _the westminster review_ (founded ) j. s. mill on-- [tennyson's poems [macaulay's "lays" john sterling on carlyle fraser's magazine: editor's note from _fraser's magazine_ thackeray on dickens's christmas stories charles kingsley on the lake poets anonymous on christmas books, w. f. fox: editor's note from _the monthly repository_ w. f. fox on browning's "pauline" de quincey: editor's note from tail's _edinburgh magazine_ de quincey on pope preface although regular literary organs, and the critical columns of the press, are both of comparatively recent origin, we find that almost from the beginning our journalists aspired to be critics as well as newsmongers. under charles ii, sir roger l'estrange issued his _observator_ ( ), which was a weekly review, not a chronicle; and john dunton's _the athenian mercury_ ( ), is best described as a sort of early "notes and queries." here, as elsewhere, defoe developed this branch of journalism, particularly in his _review_ ( ), and in _mist's journal_ ( ). and, again, as in all other departments, his methods were not materially improved upon until leigh hunt, and his brother john, started _the examiner_ in , soon after the rise of the reviews. addison and steele, of course, had treated literary topics in _the spectator_ or _the tatler_; but the serious discussion of contemporary writers began with the whig _edinburgh_ of and the tory _quarterly_ of . by the end of george iii's reign every daily paper had its column of book-notices; while marks an epoch in the weekly press; when william jerdan started _the observator_ (parent of our _athenaeum_) in order to furnish (for one shilling weekly) "a clear and instructive picture of the moral and literary improvement of the time, and a complete and authentic chronological literary record for reference." though probably there is no form of literature more widely practised, and less organised, than the review, it would be safe to say that every example stands somewhere between a critical essay and a publisher's advertisement. we need not, however, consider here the many influences which may corrupt newspaper criticism to-day, nor concern ourselves with those legitimate "notices of books" which only aim at "telling the story" or otherwise offering guidance for an "order from the library." the question remains, on which we do not propose to dogmatise, whether the ideal of a reviewer should be critical or explanatory: whether, in other words, he should attempt final judgment or offer comment and analysis from which we may each form our own opinion. probably no hard and fast line can be drawn between the review and the essay; yet a good volume of criticism can seldom be gleaned from periodicals. for one thing all journalism, whether consciously or unconsciously, must contain an appeal to the moment. the reviewer is introducing new work to his reader, the essayist, or critic proper, may nearly always assume some familiarity with his subject. the one hazards prophecy; the other discusses, and illumines, a judgment already formed, if not established. it is obvious that such reviews as macaulay's in the _edinburgh_ were often permanent contributions to critical history; while, on the other hand, many ponderous effusions of the _quarterly_ are only interesting as a sign of the times. the fame of a review, however, does not always depend on merit. the scandalous attacks on the cockney school, for example, were neither good literature nor honest criticism. we still pause in wonder before the streams of virulent personal abuse and unbridled licence in temper which disgrace the early pages of volumes we now associate with sound and dignified, if somewhat conventional, utterances on the art of literature as viewed from the table-land of authority. and, as inevitably the most famous reviews are those which attend the birth of genius, we must include more respectable errors of judgment, if we find also several remarkable appreciations which prove singular insight. following the "early" reviews, whether distinguished for culpable blindness, private hostility, or rare sympathy, we must depend for our second main source of material upon that fortunate combination of circumstances when one of the mighty has been invited to pass judgment upon his peers. when scott notices jane austen, macaulay james boswell, gladstone and john stuart mill lord tennyson, the article acquires a double value from author and subject. curiously enough, as it would seem to us in these days of advertisement, many such treasures of criticism were published anonymously; and accident has often aided research in the discovery of their authorship. it is only too probable that more were written than we have yet on record. in reviewing, as elsewhere, the growth of professionalism has tended to level the quality of work. the mass of thoroughly competent criticism issued to-day has raised enormously the general tone of the press; but genuine men of letters are seldom employed to welcome, or stifle, a newcomer; though meredith, and more frequently swinburne, have on occasion elected to pronounce judgment upon the passing generation; as mrs. meynell or mr. g.k. chesterton have sometimes said the right thing about their contemporaries. the days when postcard notices from gladstone secured a record in sales are over; and, from whatever combination of causes, we hear no more of famous reviews. r. brimley johnson. it is with regret that i have found it impossible to print more than a few of the following reviews complete. the writing of those days was, in almost every case, extremely prolix, and often irrelevant. it nearly always makes heavy reading in the originals. the _principle_ of selection adopted is to retain the most pithy, and attractive, portion of each article: omitting quotations and the discussion of particular passages. it therefore becomes necessary to remark--in justice to the writers--that most of the criticisms here quoted were accompanied by references to what was regarded by the reviewer as evidence supporting them. most of the authors, or books, noticed however, are sufficiently well known for the reader to have no difficulty in judging for himself. r. b. j. of criticism and critic dr. johnson there is a certain race of men, that either imagine it their duty, or make it their amusement, to hinder the reception of every work of learning or genius, who stand as sentinels in the avenues of fame, and value themselves upon giving ignorance and envy the first notice of a prey. to these men, who distinguish themselves by the appellation of critics, it is necessary for a new author to find some means of recommendation. it is probable, that the most malignant of these persecutors might be somewhat softened, and prevailed on, for a short time, to remit their fury. having for this purpose considered many expedients, i find in the records of ancient times, that argus was lulled by music, and cerberus quieted with a sop; and am, therefore, inclined to believe that modern critics, who, if they have not the eyes, have the watchfulness of argus, and can bark as loud as cerberus, though, perhaps, they cannot bite with equal force, might be subdued by methods of the same kind. i have heard that some have been pacified with claret and a supper, and others laid asleep with the soft notes of flattery.--_the rambler_. christopher north i care not one single curse for all the criticism that ever was canted or decanted, or recanted. neither does the world. the world takes a poet as it finds him, and seats him above or below the salt. the world is as obstinate as a million mules, and will not turn its head on one side or another for all the shouting of the critical population that ever was shouted. it is very possible that the world is a bad judge. well, then-- appeal to posterity, and be hanged to you--and posterity will affirm the judgment, with costs.--_noctes ambrosianae, sept_., . our current literature teems with thought and feeling,--with passion and imagination. there was gifford, and there are jeffrey, and southey ... and twenty--forty--fifty--other crack contributors to the reviews, magazines and gazettes, who have said more tender, and true, and fine, and deep things in the way of criticism, than ever was said before since the reign of cadmus, ten thousand times over,--not in long, dull, heavy, formal, prosy theories--but flung off-hand, out of the glowing mint--a coinage of the purest ore--and stamped with the ineffaceable impress of genius.--_noctes ambrosianae_, april, . the cause of a wrong taste is a defect of judgment. edmund burke. we must not underrate him who uses wit for subsistence, and flies from the ingratitude of the age even to a bookseller for redress. oliver goldsmith. the critical faculty is a _rara avis_; almost as rare, indeed, as the phoenix, which appears only once in five hundred years. arthur schopenhauer. the supreme critic ... is ... that unity, that oversoul, within which every man's particular being is contained and made one with all other. r. w. emerson. criticism's best spiritual work which is to keep man from a self-satisfaction which is retarding and vulgarising, to lead him towards perfection, by making his mind dwell upon what is excellent in itself, and the absolute beauty and fitness of things. matthew arnold. the whole history of criticism has been a triumph of authors over critics. r. g. moulton. our criticism is disabled by the unwillingness of the critic to learn from an author, and his readiness to mistrust him. d. h. howells. we have too many small schoolmasters; yet not only do i not question in literature the high utility of criticism, but i should be tempted to say that the part it plays may be the supremely beneficent one when it proceeds from deep sources, from the efficient combination of experience and perception. in this light one sees the critic as the real helper of mankind, a torch-bearing outrider, the interpreter _par excellence_. henry james. famous reviews * * * * * the edinburgh review "a confederacy (the word _conspiracy_ may be libellous) to defend the worst atrocities of the french, and to cry down every author to whom england was dear and venerable. a better spirit now prevails in the _edinburgh review_ from the generosity and genius of macaulay. but in the days when brougham and his confederates were writers in it, more falsehood and more malignity marked its pages than any other journal in the language." w.s. landor. landor is speaking, of course, with his usual impetuosity, particularly moved by antipathy to lord brougham. a fairer estimate of the "bluff and blue" exponent of whig principles may be obtained from our brief estimate of jeffrey below. his was the informing spirit, at least in its earliest days, and that spirit would brook no divided sway. francis lord jeffrey ( - ) jeffrey was editor of the _edinburgh review_ from its foundation in october th, , till june, ; and continued to write for it until june, . he was more patronising in his abuse than either _blackwood_ or the _quarterly_, and on the whole fairer and more dignified; though he was considerably influenced by political bias. in fact, his judgments--though versatile--were narrow, his most marked limitations arising from blindness to the imaginative. the short, vivacious figure (so low that he might pass under your chin without ever catching the eye even for a moment, says lockhart), was far more impressive when familiar than at first sight. lord cockburn praises his legal abilities (whether as judge or advocate) almost without qualification; but wilson derides his appearance in the house:--"a cold thin voice, doling out little, quaint, metaphysical sentences with the air of a provincial lecturer on logic and _belles-lettres_. a few good whigs of the old school adjourned upstairs, the tories began to converse _de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis_, the radicals were either snoring or grinning, and the great gun of the north ceased firing amidst such a hubbub of inattention, that even i was not aware of the fact for several minutes." he has been called "almost a lecturer in society," and it is clear that his difficulty always was to cease talking. men as different as macaulay and charles dickens have spoken with deep personal affection of his memory. in one of carlyle's inimitable "pen-portraits" he is described as "a delicate, attractive, dainty little figure, as he merely walked about, much more if he were speaking: uncommonly bright, black eyes, instinct with vivacity, intelligence and kindly fire; roundish brow, delicate oval face, full, rapid expression; figure light, nimble, pretty, though so small, perhaps hardly five feet four in height.... his voice clear, harmonious, and sonorous, had something of metallic in it, something almost plangent ... a strange, swift, sharp-sounding, fitful modulation, part of it pungent, _quasi latrant_, other parts of it cooing, bantery, lovingly quizzical, which no charm of his fine ringing voice (_metallic_ tenor, of sweet tone), and of his vivacious rapid looks and pretty little attitudes and gestures, could altogether reconcile you to, but in which he persisted through good report and bad." * * * * * perhaps jeffrey's most famous criticism was the "this will never do" on wordsworth; of which southey wrote to scott, "jeffrey, i hear, has written what his friends call a _crushing_ review of the excursion. he might as well seat himself on skiddaw, and fancy that he crushed the mountain." it is obvious, indeed, that the lake poets had little respect for their "superior" reviewers; whose opinions, on the other hand, were not subject to influences from high places. it will be noticed that jefferey is even more severe on southey's laureate "lays" than on his "thalaba." the review on moore, quoted below, was followed by formal arrangements for a duel at chalk farm on th august, ; but the police had orders to interrupt, and pistols were loaded with paper. even the semblance of animosity was not maintained, as we find moore contributing to the _edinburgh_ before the end of the same year. we fear that the appreciation of keats was partly influenced by political considerations; since leigh hunt had so emphatically welcomed him into the camp. it remains, however, a pleasing contrast to the ferocious onslaught on _endymion_ of gifford printed below. henry lord brougham ( - ) brougham was intimately associated with jeffrey in the foundation of the _edinburgh review_: he is said to have written eighty articles in the first twenty numbers, though like all his work, the criticism was spoilt by egotism and vanity. the fact is that an over-brilliant versatility injured his work. combining "in his own person the characters of solon, lycurgus, demosthenes, archimedes, sir isaac newton, lord chesterfield, and a great many more," his restless genius accomplished nothing substantial or sound. his writing was far less careful than his oratory. a man from whom almost everything was expected, and who was always before the eye of the public; he has been described as "the god of whiggish idolatry," and as "impossible" in society. harriet martineau is unsparing in her criticism of his manners and language; and evidently he was an inveterate swearer. his enthusiasm for noble causes was infectious; only, as coleridge happily expressed it, "because his heart was placed in what should have been his head, you were never sure of him--you always doubted his sincerity." in the opposition and at the bar this eloquent energy had full scope, "but as lord chancellor his selfish disloyalty offended his colleagues while," as o'connell remarked, "if brougham knew a little of law, he would know a little of everything." unquestionably his obvious failings obscured his real eminence, and even hinder us, to-day, from doing full justice to his memory. * * * * * it was the following, somewhat heavy-handed, review which inspired the _english bards and scotch reviewers_, with all its "extraordinary powers of malicious statement"--truly a roland for his oliver. sydney smith ( - ) the third founder of the _edinburgh_ and one of its most aggressive reviewers, until march, , sydney smith has been described as "most provokingly and audaciously personal in his strictures.... he was too complacent, too aboundingly self-satisfied, too buoyantly full of spirits, to hate anybody; but he burlesques them, derides them, and abuses them with the most exasperating effrontery--in a way that is great fun to the reader, but exquisite torture to the victim." at the same time, his wit was always governed by commonsense (its most prevailing distinction); and, though almost unique among humorists for his personal gaiety, "his best work was done in promoting practical ends, and his wit in its airiest gambols never escaped his control." there was, in fact, considerable independence--and even courage--in his seriously inspired attacks on various abuses, and on every form of affectation and cant. though his manners and conversation were not precisely those we generally associate with the cloth, sydney smith published several volumes of sermons, and always accepted the responsibilities of his position as a clergyman with becoming industry. croker's veiled sarcasm in the _quarterly_ (printed below) was no more bitter, or truthful, than similar utterances on any whig. * * * * * we know little to-day of-- the sacred dramas of miss hannah more where moses and the little muses snore, but, in her own day, she was flattered in society and a real influence among the serious-minded. she understood the poor and gave them practical advice. sydney smith, of course, would be in sympathy with her "good works," but could not resist his joke. thomas babington lord macaulay ( - ) to quote one of his own favourite expressions, "every schoolboy knows" the outlines of macaulay's life and work. we have recited the lays, probably read some of the history, possibly even heard of his eloquent and unmeasured attacks on those whose literary work incurred his displeasure. we know that his memory was phenomenal, if his statements were not always accurate. the biographers tell us further that no one could be more simple in private life, or more devoted to his own family: his nephews and nieces having no idea that their favourite "uncle tom" was a great man. criticism, of course, is by no means so unanimous. mr. augustine birrell has wittily remarked that his "style is ineffectual for the purpose of telling the truth about anything"; and james thomson epitomised his political bias in a biting paragraph:--"macaulay, historiographer in chief to the whigs, and the great prophet of whiggery which never had or will have a prophet, vehemently judged that a man who could pass over from the celestial whigs to the infernal tories must be a traitor false as judas, an apostate black as the devil." always a boy at heart, and singularly careless of his appearance, macaulay was so phenomenally successful in every direction that envy may account for most personal criticism not inspired by recognised opponents. those who called him a bore were most probably over-sensitive about their own inability to hold up against arguments, or opinions, they longed to combat. he was a student at lincoln's inn when the brilliant article on the translation of a newly-found treatise by milton on _christian doctrine_ appeared in the _edinburgh_ ( ), and inaugurated a new power in english prose. macaulay himself declared that it was "overloaded with gaudy and ungraceful argument"; but it secured his literary reputation and determined much of his career. he became an influence on the _edinburgh_, probably somewhat modifying its whole tone, and generally identified with its reputation. "the son of a saint," says christopher north, "who seems himself to be something of a reviewer, is insidious as the serpent, but fangless, as the glow worm"; and the tory press were, naturally, up in arms against the champion critic of their pet prodigies. * * * * * _southey_ received, as we must now admit, more than his fair share of abuse from the liberal press, for the comfortable conservatism of his maturity; and macaulay did not love the laureate. we note that _blackwood's_ defended him with spirit, and wilson's protracted, and furious, attack on macaulay for this particular review may be found in the _nodes ambrosianae_, april, . _croker_, in all probability, deserved much of the scorn here poured upon his editorial labour (though it _had_ merits which his critic deliberately ignores); wilson, again _(noctes ambrosianae,_ november, ), examines, and professes to confute, almost every criticism in the review. croker himself found a convenient occasion for revenge in his review of macaulay's history printed below. the interesting recognition of _gladstone_ awakes pleasanter sentiments; especially when we notice the return compliment (in the same _quarterly_, but twenty-seven years later than croker's attack) of the statesman's generous tribute. "macaulay," says gladstone, "was singularly free of vices ... one point only we reserve, a certain tinge of occasional vindictiveness. was he envious? never. was he servile? no. was he insolent? no.... was he idle? the question is ridiculous. was he false? no; but true as steel and transparent as crystal. was he vain? we hold that he was not. at every point in the ugly list he stands the trial." * * * * * anonymous this earlier notice of wordsworth is certainly in exact sympathy with jeffrey on the excursion, and may very well have come from the same pen. at any rate, it introduces the edinburgh attitude towards the lakers. the criticism of maturin has all the tone of moral authority which provoked many readers of the review, and was, probably, in part responsible for the less "measured" attitude adopted by the _quarterly_. lord jeffrey on southey's "thalaba" [from _the edinburgh review_, october, ] _thalaba, the destroyer: a metrical romance_. by robert southey. vols. mo. london. poetry has this much, at least, in common with religion, that its standards were fixed long ago, by certain inspired writers, whose authority it is no longer lawful to call in question; and that many profess to be entirely devoted to it, who have no _good works_ to produce in support of their pretensions. the catholic poetical church, too, has worked but few miracles since the first ages of its establishment; and has been more prolific, for a long time, of doctors, than of saints: it has had its corruptions and reformation also, and has given birth to an infinite variety of heresies and errors, the followers of which have hated and persecuted each other as cordially as other bigots. the author who is now before us, belongs to a _sect_ of poets, that has established itself in this country within these ten or twelve years, and is looked upon, we believe, as one of its chief champions and apostles. the peculiar doctrines of this sect, it would not, perhaps, be very easy to explain; but, that they are _dissenters_ from the established systems in poetry and criticism, is admitted, and proved indeed, by the whole tenor of their compositions. though they lay claim, we believe, to a creed and a revelation of their own, there can be little doubt, that their doctrines are of _german_ origin, and have been derived from some of the great modern reformers in that country. some of their leading principles, indeed, are probably of an earlier date, and seem to have been borrowed from the great apostle of geneva. as mr. southey is the first author, of this persuasion, that has yet been brought before us for judgment, we cannot discharge our inquisitorial office conscientiously, without premising a few words upon the nature and tendency of the tenets he has helped to promulgate. the disciples of this school boast much of its originality, and seem to value themselves very highly, for having broken loose from the bondage of ancient authority, and re-asserted the independence of genius. originality, however, we are persuaded, is rarer than mere alteration; and a man may change a good master for a bad one, without finding himself at all nearer to independence. that our new poets have abandoned the old models, may certainly be admitted; but we have not been able to discover that they have yet created any models of their own; and are very much inclined to call in question the worthiness of those to which they have transferred their admiration. the productions of this school, we conceive, are so far from being entitled to the praise of originality, that they cannot be better characterised, than by an enumeration of the sources from which their materials have been derived. the greater part of them, we apprehend, will be found to be composed of the following elements: ( ) the antisocial principles, and distempered sensibility of rousseau--his discontent with the present constitution of society--his paradoxical morality, and his perpetual hankerings after some unattainable state of voluptuous virtue and perfection. ( ) the simplicity and energy (_horresco referens_) of kotzebue and schiller. ( ) the homeliness and harshness of some of cowper's language and versification, interchanged occasionally with the _innocence_ of ambrose philips, or the quaintness of quarles and dr. donne. from the diligent study of these few originals, we have no doubt that an entire art of poetry may be collected, by the assistance of which, the very _gentlest_ of our readers may soon be qualified to compose a poem as correctly versified as thalaba, and to deal out sentiment and description, with all the sweetness of lamb, and all the magnificence of coleridge. the authors, of whom we are now speaking, have, among them, unquestionably, a very considerable portion of poetical talent, and have, consequently, been enabled to seduce many into an admiration of the false taste (as it appears to us) in which most of their productions are composed. they constitute, at present, the most formidable conspiracy that has lately been formed against sound judgment in matters poetical; and are entitled to a larger share of our censorial notice, than could be spared for an individual delinquent. we shall hope for the indulgence of our readers, therefore, in taking this opportunity to inquire a little more particularly into their merits, and to make a few remarks upon those peculiarities which seem to be regarded by their admirers as the surest proofs of their excellence. their most distinguishing symbol, is undoubtedly an affectation of great simplicity and familiarity of language. they disdain to make use of the common poetical phraseology, or to ennoble their diction by a selection of fine or dignified expressions. there would be too much _art_ in this, for that great love of nature with which they are all of them inspired; and their sentiments, they are determined shall be indebted, for their effect, to nothing but their intrinsic tenderness or elevation. there is something very noble and conscientious, we will confess, in this plan of composition; but the misfortune is, that there are passages in all poems, that can neither be pathetic nor sublime; and that, on these occasions, a neglect of the embellishments of language is very apt to produce absolute meanness and insipidity. the language of passion, indeed, can scarcely be deficient in elevation; and when an author is wanting in that particular, he may commonly be presumed to have failed in the truth, as well as in the dignity of his expression. the case, however, is extremely different with the subordinate parts of a composition; with the narrative and description, that are necessary to preserve its connection; and the explanation, that must frequently prepare us for the great scenes and splendid passages. in these, all the requisite ideas may be conveyed, with sufficient clearness, by the meanest and most negligent expressions; and if magnificence or beauty is ever to be observed in them, it must have been introduced from some other motive than that of adapting the style to the subject. it is in such passages, accordingly, that we are most frequently offended with low and inelegant expressions; and that the language, which was intended to be simple and natural, is found oftenest to degenerate into mere slovenliness and vulgarity. it is in vain, too, to expect that the meanness of those parts may be redeemed by the excellence of others. a poet, who aims at all at sublimity or pathos, is like an actor in a high tragic character, and must sustain his dignity throughout, or become altogether ridiculous. we are apt enough to laugh at the mock-majesty of those whom we know to be but common mortals in private; and cannot permit hamlet to make use of a single provincial intonation, although it should only be in his conversation with the grave-diggers. the followers of simplicity are, therefore, at all times in danger of occasional degradation; but the simplicity of this new school seems intended to ensure it. _their_ simplicity does not consist, by any means, in the rejection of glaring or superfluous ornament--in the substitution of elegance to splendour, or in that refinement of art which seeks concealment in its own perfection. it consists, on the contrary, in a very great degree, in the positive and _bonâ fide_ rejection of art altogether, and in the bold use of those rude and negligent expressions, which would be banished by a little discrimination. one of their own authors, indeed, has very ingeniously set forth (in a kind of manifesto that preceded one of their most flagrant acts of hostility), that it was their capital object "to adapt to the uses of poetry, the ordinary language of conversation among the middling and lower orders of the people." what advantages are to be gained by the success of this project, we confess ourselves unable to conjecture. the language of the higher and more cultivated orders may fairly be presumed to be better than that of their inferiors: at any rate, it has all those associations in its favour, by means of which, a style can ever appear beautiful or exalted, and is adapted to the purposes of poetry, by having been long consecrated to its use. the language of the vulgar, on the other hand, has all the opposite associations to contend with; and must seem unfit for poetry (if there were no other reason), merely because it has scarcely ever been employed in it. a great genius may indeed overcome these disadvantages; but we can scarcely conceive that he should court them. we may excuse a certain homeliness of language in the productions of a ploughman or a milkwoman; but we cannot bring ourselves to admire it in an author, who has had occasion to indite odes to his college bell, and inscribe hymns to the penates. but the mischief of this new system is not confined to the depravation of language only; it extends to the sentiments and emotions, and leads to the debasement of all those feelings which poetry is designed to communicate. it is absurd to suppose, that an author should make use of the language of the vulgar, to express the sentiments of the refined. his professed object, in employing that language, is to bring his compositions nearer to the true standard of nature; and his intention to copy the sentiments of the lower orders, is implied in his resolution to make use of their style. now, the different classes of society have each of them a distinct character, as well as a separate idiom; and the names of the various passions to which they are subject respectively, have a signification that varies essentially according to the condition of the persons to whom they are applied. the love, or grief, or indignation of an enlightened and refined character, is not only expressed in a different language, but is in itself a different emotion from the love, or grief, or anger, of a clown, a tradesman, or a market-wench. the things themselves are radically and obviously distinct; and the representation of them is calculated to convey a very different train of sympathies and sensations to the mind. the question, therefore, comes simply to be--which of them is the most proper object for poetical imitation? it is needless for us to answer a question, which the practice of all the world has long ago decided irrevocably. the poor and vulgar may interest us, in poetry, by their _situation_; but never, we apprehend, by any sentiments that are peculiar to their condition, and still less by any language that is characteristic of it. the truth is, that it is impossible to copy their diction or their sentiments correctly, in a serious composition; and this, not merely because poverty makes men ridiculous, but because just taste and refined sentiment are rarely to be met with among the uncultivated part of mankind; and a language, fitted for their expression, can still more rarely form any part of their "ordinary conversation." the low-bred heroes, and interesting rustics of poetry, have no sort of affinity to the real vulgar of this world; they are imaginary beings, whose characters and language are in contrast with their situation; and please those who can be pleased with them, by the marvellous, and not by the nature of such a combination. in serious poetry, a man of the middling or lower order _must necessarily_ lay aside a great deal of his ordinary language; he must avoid errors in grammar and orthography; and steer clear of the cant of particular professions, and of every impropriety that is ludicrous or disgusting: nay, he must speak in good verse, and observe all the graces in prosody and collocation. after all this, it may not be very easy to say how we are to find him out to be a low man, or what marks can remain of the ordinary language of conversation in the inferior orders of society. if there be any phrases that are not used in good society, they will appear as blemishes in the composition, no less palpably, than errors in syntax or quality; and, if there be no such phrases, the style cannot be characteristic of that condition of life, the language of which it professes to have adopted. all approximation to that language, in the same manner, implies a deviation from that purity and precision, which no one, we believe, ever violated spontaneously. it has been argued, indeed (for men will argue in support of what they do not venture to practise), that as the middling and lower orders of society constitute by far the greater part of mankind, so, their feelings and expressions should interest more extensively, and may be taken, more fairly than any other, for the standards of what is natural and true. to this it seems obvious to answer, that the arts that aim at exciting admiration and delight, do not take their models from what is ordinary, but from what is excellent; and that our interest in the representation of any event, does not depend upon our familiarity with the original, but on its intrinsic importance, and the celebrity of the parties it concerns. the sculptor employs his art in delineating the graces of antinous or apollo, and not in the representation of those ordinary forms that belong to the crowd of his admirers. when a chieftain perishes in battle, his followers mourn more for him, than for thousands of their equals that may have fallen around him. after all, it must be admitted, that there is a class of persons (we are afraid they cannot be called _readers_), to whom the representation of vulgar manners, in vulgar language, will afford much entertainment. we are afraid, however, that the ingenious writers who supply the hawkers and ballad-singers, have very nearly monopolised that department, and are probably better qualified to hit the taste of their customers, than mr. southey, or any of his brethren, can yet pretend to be. to fit them for the higher task of original composition, it would not be amiss if they were to undertake a translation of pope or milton into the vulgar tongue, for the benefit of those children of nature. there is another disagreeable effect of this affected simplicity, which, though of less importance than those which have been already noticed, it may yet be worth while to mention: this is, the extreme difficulty of supporting the same low tone of expression throughout, and the inequality that is consequently introduced into the texture of the composition. to an author of reading and education, it is a style that must always be assumed and unnatural, and one from which he will be perpetually tempted to deviate. he will rise, therefore, every now and then, above the level to which he has professedly degraded himself; and make amends for that transgression, by a fresh effort of descension. his composition, in short, will be like that of a person who is attempting to speak in an obsolete or provincial dialect; he will betray himself by expressions of occasional purity and elegance, and exert himself to efface that impression, by passages of unnatural meanness or absurdity. in making these strictures on the perverted taste for simplicity, that seems to distinguish our modern school of poetry, we have no particular allusion to mr. southey, or the production now before us: on the contrary, he appears to us, to be less addicted to this fault than most of his fraternity; and if we were in want of examples to illustrate the preceding observations, we should certainly look for them in the effusions of that poet who commemorates, with so much effect, the chattering of harry gill's teeth, tells the tale of the one-eyed huntsman "who had a cheek like a cherry," and beautifully warns his studious friend of the risk he ran of "growing double." * * * * * the _style_ of our modern poets, is that, no doubt, by which they are most easily distinguished: but their genius has also an internal character; and the peculiarities of their taste may be discovered, without the assistance of their diction. next after great familiarity of language, there is nothing that appears to them so meritorious as perpetual exaggeration of thought. there must be nothing moderate, natural, or easy, about their sentiments. there must be a "qu'il mourut," and a "let there be light," in every line; and all their characters must be in agonies and ecstasies, from their entrance to their exit. to those who are acquainted with their productions, it is needless to speak of the fatigue that is produced by this unceasing summons to admiration, or of the compassion which is excited by the spectacle of these eternal strainings and distortions. those authors appear to forget, that a whole poem cannot be made up of striking passages; and that the sensations produced by sublimity, are never so powerful and entire, as when they are allowed to subside and revive, in a slow and spontaneous succession. it is delightful, now and then, to meet with a rugged mountain, or a roaring stream; but where there is no funny slope, nor shaded plain, to relieve them--where all is beetling cliff and yawning abyss, and the landscape presents nothing on every side but prodigies and terrors--the head is apt to gow giddy, and the heart to languish for the repose and security of a less elevated region. the effect even of genuine sublimity, therefore, is impaired by the injudicious frequency of its exhibition, and the omission of those intervals and breathing-places, at which the mind should be permitted to recover from its perturbation or astonishment: but, where it has been summoned upon a false alarm, and disturbed in the orderly course of its attention, by an impotent attempt at elevation, the consequences are still more disastrous. there is nothing so ridiculous (at least for a poet) as to fail in great attempts. if the reader foresaw the failure, he may receive some degree of mischievous satisfaction from its punctual occurrence; if he did not, he will be vexed and disappointed; and, in both cases, he will very speedily be disgusted and fatigued. it would be going too far, certainly, to maintain, that our modern poets have never succeeded in their persevering endeavours at elevation and emphasis; but it is a melancholy fact, that their successes bear but a small proportion to their miscarriages; and that the reader who has been promised an energetic sentiment, or sublime allusion, must often be contented with a very miserable substitute. of the many contrivances they employ to give the appearance of uncommon force and animation to a very ordinary conception, the most usual is, to wrap it up in a veil of mysterious and unintelligible language, which flows past with so much solemnity, that it is difficult to believe it conveys nothing of any value. another device for improving the effect of a cold idea, is, to embody it in a verse of unusual harshness and asperity. compound words, too, of a portentous sound and conformation, are very useful in giving an air of energy and originality; and a few lines of scripture, written out into verse from the original prose, have been found to have a very happy effect upon those readers to whom they have the recommendation of novelty. the qualities of style and imagery, however, form but a small part of the characteristics by which a literary faction is to be distinguished. the subject and object of their compositions, and the principles and opinions they are calculated to support, constitute a far more important criterion, and one to which it is usually altogether as easy to refer. some poets are sufficiently described as the flatterers of greatness and power, and others as the champions of independence. one set of writers is known by its antipathy to decency and religion; another, by its methodistical cant and intolerance. our new school of poetry has a moral character also; though it may not be possible, perhaps, to delineate it quite so concisely. a splenetic and idle discontent with the existing institutions of society, seems to be at the bottom of all their serious and peculiar sentiments. instead of contemplating the wonders and the pleasures which civilization has created for mankind, they are perpetually brooding over the disorders by which its progress has been attended. they are filled with horror and compassion at the sight of poor men spending their blood in the quarrels of princes, and brutifying their sublime capabilities in the drudgery of unremitting labour. for all sorts of vice and profligacy in the lower orders of society, they have the same virtuous horror, and the same tender compassion. while the existence of these offences overpowers them with grief and confusion, they never permit themselves to feel the smallest indignation or dislike towards the offenders. the present vicious constitution of society alone is responsible for all these enormities: the poor sinners are but the helpless victims or instruments of its disorders, and could not possibly have avoided the errors into which they have been betrayed. though they can bear with crimes, therefore, they cannot reconcile themselves to punishments; and have an unconquerable antipathy to prisons, gibbets, and houses of correction, as engines of oppression, and instruments of atrocious injustice. while the plea of moral necessity is thus artfully brought forward to convert all the excesses of the poor into innocent misfortunes, no sort of indulgence is shown to the offences of the powerful and rich. their oppressions, and seductions, and debaucheries, are the theme of many an angry verse; and the indignation and abhorrence of the reader is relentlessly conjured up against those perturbators of society, and scourges of mankind. it is not easy to say, whether the fundamental absurdity of this doctrine, or the partiality of its application, be entitled to the severest reprehension. if men are driven to commit crimes, through a certain moral necessity; other men are compelled, by a similar necessity, to hate and despise them for their commission. the indignation of the sufferer is at least as natural as the guilt of him who makes him suffer; and the good order of society would probably be as well preserved, if our sympathies were sometimes called forth in behalf of the former. at all events, the same apology ought certainly to be admitted for the wealthy, as for the needy offender. they are subject alike to the overruling influence of necessity, and equally affected by the miserable condition of society. if it be natural for a poor man to murder and rob, in order to make himself comfortable, it is no less natural for a rich man to gormandise and domineer, in order to have the full use of his riches. wealth is just as valid an excuse for the one class of vices, as indigence is for the other. there are many other peculiarities of false sentiment in the productions of this class of writers, that are sufficiently deserving of commemoration; but we have already exceeded our limits in giving these general indications of their character, and must now hasten back to the consideration of the singular performance which has given occasion to all this discussion. the first thing that strikes the reader of thalaba, is the singular structure of the versification, which is a jumble of all the measures that are known in english poetry (and a few more), without rhyme, and without any sort of regularity in their arrangement. blank odes have been known in this country about as long as english sapphics and dactylics; and both have been considered, we believe, as a species of monsters, or exotics, that were not very likely to propagate, or thrive, in so unpropitious a climate. mr. southey, however, has made a vigorous effort for their naturalisation, and generously endangered his own reputation in their behalf. the melancholy fate of his english sapphics, we believe, is but too generally known; and we can scarcely predict a more favourable issue to the present experiment. every combination of different measures is apt to perplex and disturb the reader who is not familiar with it; and we are never reconciled to a stanza of a new structure, till we have accustomed our ear to it by two or three repetitions. this is the case, even where we have the assistance of rhyme to direct us in our search after regularity, and where the definite form and appearance of a stanza assures us that regularity is to be found. where both of these are wanting, it may be imagined that our condition will be still more deplorable; and a compassionate author might even excuse us, if we were unable to distinguish this kind of verse from prose. in reading verse, in general, we are guided to the discovery of its melody, by a sort of preconception of its cadence and compass; without which, it might often fail to be suggested by the mere articulation of the syllables. if there be any one, whose recollection does not furnish him with evidence of this fact, he may put it to the test of experiment, by desiring any of his illiterate acquaintances to read off some of mr. southey's dactylics, or sir philip sidney's hexameters. it is the same thing with the more unusual measures of the ancient authors. we have never known any one who fell in, at the first trial, with the proper rhyme and cadence of the _pervigilium veneris_, or the choral lyrics of the greek dramatists. the difficulty, however, is virtually the same, as to every new combination; and it is an unsurmountable difficulty, where such new combinations are not repeated with any degree of uniformity, but are multiplied, through the whole composition, with an unbounded licence of variation. such, however, is confessedly the case with the work before us; and it really seems unnecessary to make any other remark on its versification. the author, however, entertains a different opinion of it. so far from apprehending that it may cost his readers some trouble to convince themselves that the greater part of the book is not mere prose, written out into the form of verse, he is persuaded that its melody is more obvious and perceptible than that of our vulgar measures. "one advantage," says mr. southey, "this metre _assuredly_ possesses; the dullest reader cannot distort it into discord: he may read it with a _prose mouth_, but its flow and fall will still be perceptible." we are afraid, there are duller readers in the world than mr. southey is aware of. * * * * * the subject of this poem is almost as ill chosen as the diction; and the conduct of the fable as disorderly as the versification. the corporation of magicians, that inhabit "the domdaniel caverns, under the roots of the ocean," had discovered, that a terrible _destroyer_ was likely to rise up against them from the seed of hodeirah, a worthy arab, with eight fine children. immediately the murder of all those innocents is resolved on; and a sturdy assassin sent with instructions to destroy the whole family (as mr. southey has it) "root and branch." the good man, accordingly, and seven of his children, are dispatched; but a cloud comes over the mother and the remaining child; and the poem opens with the picture of the widow and her orphan wandering, by night, over the desarts of arabia. the old lady, indeed, might as well have fallen under the dagger of the domdanielite; for she dies, without doing anything for her child, in the end of the first book; and little thalaba is left crying in the wilderness. here he is picked up by a good old arab, who takes him home, and educates him like a pious mussulman; and he and the old man's daughter fall in love with each other, according to the invariable custom in all such cases. the magicians, in the meantime, are hunting him over the face of the whole earth; and one of them gets near enough to draw his dagger to stab him, when a providential _simoom_ lays him dead on the sand. from the dead sorcerer's finger, thalaba takes a ring, inscribed with some unintelligible characters, which he is enabled to interpret by the help of some other unintelligible characters that he finds on the forehead of a locust; and soon after takes advantage of an eclipse of the sun, to set out on his expedition against his father's murderers, whom he understands (we do not very well know how) he has been commissioned to exterminate. though they are thus seeking him, and he seeking them, it is amazing what difficulty they find in meeting: they do meet, however, every now and then, and many sore evils does the destroyer suffer at their hands. by faith and fortitude, however, and the occasional assistance of the magic implements he strips them of, he is enabled to baffle and elude their malice, till he is conducted, at last, to the domdaniel cavern, where he finds them assembled, and pulls down the roof of it upon their heads and his own; perishing, like samson, in the final destruction of his enemies. from this little sketch of the story, our readers will easily perceive, that it consists altogether of the most wild and extravagant fictions, and openly sets nature and probability at defiance. in its action, it is not an imitation of anything; and excludes all rational criticism, as to the choice and succession of its incidents. tales of this sort may amuse children, and interest, for a moment, by the prodigies they exhibit, and the multitude of events they bring together: but the interest expires with the novelty; and attention is frequently exhausted, even before curiosity has been gratified. the pleasure afforded by performances of this sort, is very much akin to that which may be derived from the exhibition of a harlequin farce; where, instead of just imitations of nature and human character, we are entertained with the transformation of cauliflowers and beer-barrels, the apparition of ghosts and devils, and all the other magic of the wooden sword. those who can prefer this eternal sorcery, to the just and modest representation of human actions and passions, will probably take more delight in walking among the holly griffins, and yew sphinxes of the city gardener, than in ranging among the groves and lawns which have been laid out by a hand that feared to violate nature, as much as it aspired to embellish her; and disdained the easy art of startling by novelties, and surprising by impropriety. supernatural beings, though easily enough raised, are known to be very troublesome in the management, and have frequently occasioned much perplexity to poets and other persons who have been rash enough to call for their assistance. it is no very easy matter to preserve consistency in the disposal of powers, with the limits of which we are so far from being familiar; and when it is necessary to represent our spiritual persons as ignorant, or suffering, we are very apt to forget the knowledge and the powers with which we had formerly invested them. the ancient poets had several unlucky rencounters of this sort with destiny and the other deities; and milton himself is not a little hampered with the material and immaterial qualities of his angels. enchanters and witches may, at first sight, appear more manageable; but mr. southey has had difficulty enough with them; and cannot be said, after all, to have kept his fable quite clear and intelligible. the stars had said, that the destroyer might be cut off in that hour when his father and brethren were assassinated; yet he is saved by a special interposition of heaven. heaven itself, however, had destined him to extirpate the votaries of eblis; and yet, long before this work is done, a special message is sent to him, declaring, that, if he chooses, the death-angel is ready to take him away instead of the sorcerer's daughter. in the beginning of the story, too, the magicians are quite at a loss where to look for him; and abdaldar only discovers him by accident, after a long search; yet, no sooner does he leave the old arab's tent, than lobaba comes up to him, disguised and prepared for his destruction. the witches have also a decoy ready for him in the desart; yet he sups with okba's daughter, without any of the sorcerers being aware of it; and afterwards proceeds to consult the simorg, without meeting with any obstacle or molestation. the simoom kills abdaldar, too, in spite of that ring which afterwards protects thalaba from lightning, and violence, and magic. the destroyer's arrow then falls blunted from lobaba's breast, who is knocked down, however, by a shower of sand of his own raising; and this same arrow, which could make no impression on the sorcerer, kills the magic bird of aloadin, and pierces the rebellious _spirit_ that guarded the domdaniel door. the whole infernal band, indeed, is very feebly and heavily pourtrayed. they are a set of stupid, undignified, miserable wretches, quarrelling with each other, and trembling in the prospect of inevitable destruction. none of them even appears to have obtained the price of their self-sacrifice in worldly honours and advancement, except mohareb; and he, though assured by destiny that there was one death-blow appointed for him and thalaba, is yet represented, in the concluding scene, as engaged with him in furious combat, and aiming many a deadly blow at that life on which his own was dependent. if the innocent characters in this poem were not delineated with more truth and feeling, the notoriety of the author would scarcely have induced us to bestow so much time on its examination. though the tissue of adventures through which thalaba is conducted in the course of this production, be sufficiently various and extraordinary, we must not set down any part of the incidents to the credit of the author's invention. he has taken great pains, indeed, to guard against such a supposition; and has been as scrupulously correct in the citation of his authorities, as if he were the compiler of a true history, and thought his reputation would be ruined by the imputation of a single fiction. there is not a prodigy, accordingly, or a description, for which he does not fairly produce his vouchers, and generally lays before his readers the whole original passage from which his imitation has been taken. in this way, it turns out, that the book is entirely composed of scraps, borrowed from the oriental tale books, and travels into the mahometan countries, seasoned up for the english reader with some fragments of our own ballads, and shreds of our older sermons. the composition and harmony of the work, accordingly, is much like the pattern of that patch-work drapery that is sometimes to be met with in the mansions of the industrious, where a blue tree overshadows a shell-fish, and a gigantic butterfly seems ready to swallow up palemon and lavinia. the author has the merit merely of cutting out each of his figures from the piece where its inventor had placed it, and stitching them down together in these judicious combinations. it is impossible to peruse this poem, with the notes, without feeling that it is the fruit of much reading, undertaken for the express purpose of fabricating some such performance. the author has set out with a resolution to make an oriental story, and a determination to find the materials of it in the books to which he had access. every incident, therefore, and description--every superstitious usage, or singular tradition, that appeared to him susceptible of poetical embellishment, or capable of picturesque representation, he has set down for this purpose, and adopted such a fable and plan of composition, as might enable him to work up all his materials, and interweave every one of his quotations, without any _extraordinary_ violation of unity or order. when he had filled his common-place book, he began to write; and his poem is little else than his common-place book versified. it may easily be imagined, that a poem constructed upon such a plan, must be full of cumbrous and misplaced description, and overloaded with a crowd of incidents equally unmeaning and ill assorted. the tedious account of the palace of shedad, in the first book--the description of the summer and winter occupations of the arabs, in the third--the ill-told story of haruth and maruth--the greater part of the occurrences in the island of mohareb--the paradise of aloadin, etc., etc.--are all instances of disproportioned and injudicious ornaments, which never could have presented themselves to an author who wrote from the suggestions of his own fancy; and have evidently been introduced, from the author's unwillingness to relinquish the corresponding passages in d'herbelot, sale, volney, etc., which appeared to him to have great capabilities for poetry. this imitation, or admiration of oriental imagery, however, does not bring so much suspicion on his taste, as the affection he betrays for some of his domestic models. the former has, for the most part, the recommendation of novelty; and there is always a certain pleasure in contemplating the _costume_ of a distant nation, and the luxuriant landscape of an asiatic climate. we cannot find the same apology, however, for mr. southey's partiality to the drawling vulgarity of some of our old english ditties. * * * * * from the extracts and observations which we have hitherto presented to our readers, it will be natural for them to conclude, that our opinion of this poem is very decidedly unfavourable; and that we are not disposed to allow it any sort of merit. this, however, is by no means the case. we think it written, indeed, in a very vicious taste, and liable, upon the whole, to very formidable objections: but it would not be doing justice to the genius of the author, if we were not to add, that, it contains passages of very singular beauty and force, and displays a richness of poetical conception, that would do honour to more faultless compositions. there is little of human character in the poem, indeed; because thalaba is a solitary wanderer from the solitary tent of his protector: but the home group, in which his infancy was spent, is pleasingly delineated; and there is something irresistibly interesting in the innocent love, and misfortunes, and fate of his oneiza. the catastrophe of her story is given, it appears to us, with great spirit and effect, though the beauties are of that questionable kind, that trespass on the border of impropriety, and partake more of the character of dramatic, than of narrative poetry. after delivering her from the polluted paradise of aloadin, he prevails on her to marry him before his mission is accomplished. she consents with great reluctance; and the marriage feast, with its processions, songs, and ceremonies, is described in some joyous stanzas. the book ends with these verses-- and now the marriage feast is spread, and from the finished banquet now the wedding guests are gone. * * * * * who comes from the bridal chamber? it is azrael, the angel of death. the next book opens with thalaba lying distracted upon her grave, in the neighbourhood of which he had wandered, till "the sun, and the wind, and the rain, had rusted his raven locks"; and there he is found by the father of his bride, and visited by her ghost, and soothed and encouraged to proceed upon his holy enterprise. he sets out on his lonely way, and is entertained the first night by a venerable dervise: as they are sitting at meal, a _bridal procession_ passes by, with dance, and song, and merriment. the old dervise blessed them as they passed; but thalaba looked on, "and breathed a low deep groan, and hid his face." these incidents are skilfully imagined, and are narrated in a very impressive manner. though the _witchery_ scenes are in general but poorly executed, and possess little novelty to those who have read the arabian nights entertainments, there is, occasionally, some fine description, and striking combination. we do not remember any poem, indeed, that presents, throughout, a greater number of lively images, or could afford so many subjects for the pencil. * * * * * all the productions of this author, it appears to us, bear very distinctly the impression of an amiable mind, a cultivated fancy, and a perverted taste. his genius seems naturally to delight in the representation of domestic virtues and pleasures, and the brilliant delineation of external nature. in both these departments, he is frequently very successful; but he seems to want vigour for the loftier flights of poetry. he is often puerile, diffuse, and artificial, and seems to have but little acquaintance with those chaster and severer graces, by whom the epic muse would be most suitably attended. his faults are always aggravated, and often created, by his partiality for the peculiar manner of that new school of poetry, of which he is a faithful disciple, and to the glory of which he has sacrificed greater talents and acquisitions, than can be boasted of by any of his associates. on southey's laureate lays [from _the edinburgh review_, june, ] _the lay of the laureate. carmen nuptiale_. by robert southey, esq., poet laureate, &c., &c. mo. pp. . london, . a poet laureate, we take it, is naturally a ridiculous person: and has scarcely any safe course to follow, in times like the present, but to bear his faculties with exceeding meekness, and to keep as much as possible in the shade. a stipendiary officer of the royal household, bound to produce two lyrical compositions ever year, in praise of his majesty's person and government, is undoubtedly an object which it is difficult to contemplate with gravity; and which can only have been retained in existence, from that love of antique pomp and establishment which has embellished our court with so many gold-sticks and white rods, and such trains of beef-eaters and grooms of the stole--though it has submitted to the suppression of the more sprightly appendages of a king's fool, or a court jester. that the household poet should have survived the other wits of the establishment, can only be explained by the circumstance of his office being more easily converted into one of mere pomp and ceremony, and coming thus to afford an antient and well-sounding name for a moderate sinecure. for more than a century, accordingly, it has existed on this footing; and its duties, like those of the other personages to whom we have just alluded, have been discharged with a decorous gravity and unobtrusive quietness, which has provoked no derision, merely because it has attracted no notice. the present possessor, however, appears to have other notions on the subject; and has very distinctly manifested his resolution not to rest satisfied with the salary, sherry, and safe obscurity of his predecessors, but to claim a real power and prerogative in the world of letters, in virtue of his title and appointment. now, in this, we conceive, with all due humility, that there is a little mistake of fact, and a little error of judgment. the laurel which the king gives, we are credibly informed, has nothing at all in common with that which is bestowed by the muses; and the prince regent's warrant is absolutely of no authority in the court of apollo. if this be the case, however, it follows, that a poet laureate has no sort of precedency among poets,-- whatever may be his place among pages and clerks of the kitchen;--and that he has no more pretensions as an author, than if his appointment had been to the mastership of the stag-hounds. when he takes state upon him with the public, therefore, in consequence of his office, he really is guilty of as ludicrous a blunder as the worthy american _consul_, in one of the hanse towns, who painted the roman _fasces_ on the pannel of his buggy, and insisted upon calling his foot-boy and clerk his _lictors_. except when he is in his official duty, therefore, the king's house-poet would do well to keep the nature of his office out of sight; and, when he is compelled to appear in it in public, should try to get through with the business as quickly and quietly as possible. the brawny drayman who enacts the champion of england in the lord mayor's show, is in some danger of being sneered at by the spectators, even when he paces along with the timidity and sobriety that becomes his condition; but if he were to take it into his head to make serious boast of his prowess, and to call upon the city bards to celebrate his heroic acts, the very apprentices could not restrain their laughter,--and "the humorous man" would have but small chance of finishing his part in peace. mr. southey could not be ignorant of all this; and yet it appears that he could not have known it all. he must have been conscious, we think, of the ridicule attached to his office, and might have known that there were only two ways of counteracting it,--either by sinking the office altogether in his public appearances, or by writing such very good verses in the discharge of it, as might defy ridicule, and render neglect impossible. instead of this, however, he has allowed himself to write rather worse than any laureate before him, and has betaken himself to the luckless and vulgar expedient of endeavouring to face out the thing by an air of prodigious confidence and assumption:--and has had the usual fortune of such undertakers, by becoming only more conspicuously ridiculous. the badness of his official productions indeed is something really wonderful,--though not more so than the amazing self-complacency and self-praise with which they are given to the world. with the finest themes in the world for that sort of writing, they are the dullest, tamest, and most tedious things ever poor critic was condemned, or other people vainly invited, to read. they are a great deal more wearisome, and rather more unmeaning and unnatural, than the effusions of his predecessors, messrs. pye and whitehead; and are moreover disfigured with the most abominable egotism, conceit and dogmatism, than we ever met with in any thing intended for the public eye. they are filled, indeed, with praises of the author himself, and his works, and his laurel, and his dispositions; notices of his various virtues and studies; puffs of the productions he is preparing for the press, and anticipations of the fame which he is to reap by their means, from a less ungrateful age; and all this delivered with such an oracular seriousness and assurance, that it is easy to see the worthy laureate thinks himself entitled to share in the prerogatives of that royalty which he is bound to extol, and has resolved to make it --his great example as it is his theme. for, as sovereign princes are permitted, in their manifestoes and proclamations, to speak of their own gracious pleasure and royal wisdom, without imputation of arrogance, so, our laureate has persuaded himself that he may address the subject world in the same lofty strains, and that they will listen with as dutiful an awe to the authoritative exposition of his own genius and glory. what might have been the success of the experiment, if the execution had been as masterly as the design is bold, we shall not trouble ourselves to conjecture; but the contrast between the greatness of the praise and the badness of the poetry in which it is conveyed, and to which it is partly applied, is abundantly decisive of its result in the present instance, as well as in all the others in which the ingenious author has adopted the same style. we took some notice of the _carmen triumphale_, which stood at the head of the series. but of the odes which afterwards followed to the prince regent, and the sovereigns and generals who came to visit him, we had the charity to say nothing; and were willing indeed to hope, that the lamentable failure of that attempt might admonish the author, at least as effectually as any intimations of ours. here, however, we have him again, with a _lay of the laureate_, and a _carmen nuptiale_, if possible still more boastful and more dull than any of his other celebrations. it is necessary, therefore, to bring the case once more before the public, for the sake both of correction and example; and as the work is not likely to find many readers, and is of a tenor which would not be readily believed upon any general representation, we must now beg leave to give a faithful analysis of its different parts, with a few specimens of the taste and manner of its execution. its object is to commemorate the late auspicious marriage of the presumptive heiress of the english crown with the young prince of saxe-cobourg; and consists of a proem, a dream, and an epilogue--with a l'envoy, and various annotations. the proem, as was most fitting, is entirely devoted to the praise of the laureate himself; and contains an account, which cannot fail to be very interesting, both to his royal auditors and to the world at large, of his early studies and attainments--the excellence of his genius--the nobleness of his views-- and the happiness that has been the result of these precious gifts. then there is mention made of his pleasure in being appointed poet laureate, and of the rage and envy which that event excited in all the habitations of the malignant. this is naturally followed up by a full account of all his official productions, and some modest doubts whether his genius is not too heroic and pathetic for the composition of an _epithalamium,_-- which doubts, however, are speedily and pleasingly resolved by the recollection, that as spenser made a hymn on his own marriage, so, there can be nothing improper in mr. southey doing as much on that of the princess charlotte. this is the general argument of the proem. but the reader must know a little more of the details. in his early youth, the ingenious author says he aspired to the fame of a poet; and then fancy came to him, and showed him the glories of his future career, addressing him in these encouraging words-- thou whom rich nature at thy happy birth blest in her bounty with the largest dower that heaven indulges to a child of earth! being fully persuaded of the truth of her statements, we have then the satisfaction of learning that he has lived a very happy life; and that, though time has made his hair a little grey, it has only matured his understanding; and that he is still as habitually cheerful as when he was a boy. he then proceeds to inform us, that he sometimes does a little in poetry still; but that, of late years, he spends most of his time in writing histories--from which he has no doubt that he will one day or another acquire great reputation. thus in the ages which are past i live, and those which are to come my sure reward will give.... we come next, of course, to the dream; and nothing more stupid or heavy, we will venture to say, ever arose out of sleep, or tended to sleep again. the unhappy laureate, it seems, just saw, upon shutting his eyes, what he might have seen as well if he had been able to keep them open--a great crowd of people and coaches in the street, with marriage favours in their bosoms; church bells ringing merrily, and _feux-de-joie_ firing in all directions. eftsoons, says the dreaming poet, i came to a great door, where there were guards placed to keep off the mob; but when they saw my laurel crown, they made way for me, and let me in!-- but i had entrance through that guarded door, in honour to the laureate crown i wore. when he gets in, he finds himself in a large hall, decorated with trophies, and pictures, and statues, commemorating the triumphs of british valour, from aboukir to waterloo. the room, moreover, was filled with a great number of ladies and gentlemen very finely dressed; and in two chairs, near the top, were seated the princess charlotte and prince leopold. hitherto, certainly, all is sufficiently plain and probable;-- nor can the muse who dictated this to the slumbering laureate be accused of any very extravagant or profuse invention. we come, now, however, to allegory and learning in abundance. in the first place, we are told, with infinite regard to the probability as well as the novelty of the fiction, that in this drawing-room there were two great lions couching at the feet of the royal pair;--the prince's being very lean and in poor condition, with the hair rubbed off his neck as if from a heavy collar-- and the princess's in full vigour, with a bushy mane, and littered with torn french flags. then there were two heavenly figures stationed on each side of the throne, one called honour, and the other faith;--so very like each other, that it was impossible not to suppose them brother and sister. it turns out, however, that they were only second cousins; or so at least we interpret the following precious piece of theogony. akin they were,--yet not as thus it seemed, for he of valour was the eldest son, from areté in happy union sprung. but her to phronis eusebeia bore, she whom her mother dicé sent to earth; what marvel then if thus their features wore resemblant lineaments of kindred birth? dicé being child of him who rules above, valour his earth-born son; so both derived from jove. p. . this, we think, is delicious; but there is still more goodly stuff toward. the two heavenly cousins stand still without doing any thing; but then there is a sound of sweet music, and a whole "heavenly company" appear, led on by a majestic female, whom we discover, by the emblems on our halfpence, to be no less a person than britannia, who advances and addresses a long discourse of flattery and admonition to the royal bride; which, for the most part, is as dull and commonplace as might be expected from the occasion; though there are some passages in which the author has reconciled his gratitude to his patron, and his monitory duty to his daughter, with singular spirit and delicacy. after enjoining to her the observance of all public duties, and the cultivation of all domestic virtues, britannia is made to sum up the whole sermon in this emphatic precept-- look to thy sire, and in his steady way --learn thou to tread. now, considering that mr. southey was at all events incapable of sacrificing truth to court favour, it cannot but be regarded as a rare felicity in his subject, that he could thus select a pattern of private purity and public honour in the person of the actual sovereign, without incurring the least suspicion either of base adulation or lax morality.... it is impossible to feel any serious or general contempt for a person of mr. southey's genius;--and, in reviewing his other works, we hope we have shown a proper sense of his many merits and accomplishments. but his laureate odes are utterly and intolerably bad; and, if he had never written any thing else, must have ranked him below colley cibber in genius, and above him in conceit and presumption. we have no toleration for this sort of perversity, or prostitution of great gifts; and do not think it necessary to qualify the expression of opinions which we have formed with as much positiveness as deliberation.--we earnestly wish he would resign his livery laurel to lord thurlow, and write no more odes on court galas. we can assure him too, most sincerely, that this wish is not dictated in any degree by envy, or any other hostile or selfish feeling. we are ourselves, it is but too well known, altogether without pretensions to that high office--and really see no great charms either in the salary or the connexion--and, for the glory of writing such verses as we have now been reviewing, we do not believe that there is a scribbler in the kingdom so vile as to think it a thing to be coveted. on thomas moore [from _the edinburgh review_, july, ] _epistles, odes, and other poems_. by thomas moore, esq. to. pp. . london, . a singular sweetness and melody of versification,--smooth, copious, and familiar diction,--with some brilliancy of fancy, and some show of classical erudition, might have raised mr. moore to an innocent distinction among the song-writers and occasional poets of his day: but he is indebted, we fear, for the celebrity he actually enjoys to accomplishments of a different description; and may boast, if the boast can please him, of being the most licentious of modern versifiers, and the most poetical of those who, in our times, have devoted their talents to the propagation of immorality. we regard his book, indeed, as a public nuisance; and would willingly trample it down by one short movement of contempt and indignation, had we not reason to apprehend, that it was abetted by patrons who are entitled to a more respectful remonstrance, and by admirers who may require a more extended exposition of their dangers. there is nothing, it will be allowed, more indefensible than a cold-blooded attempt to corrupt the purity of an innocent heart; and we can scarcely conceive any being more truly despicable, than he who, without the apology of unruly passion or tumultuous desires, sits down to ransack the impure places of his memory for inflammatory images and expressions, and commits them laboriously to writing, for the purpose of insinuating pollution into the minds of unknown and unsuspecting readers. this is almost a new crime among us. while france has to blush for so many tomes of "poesies erotiques," we have little to answer for, but the coarse indecencies of rochester and dryden; and these, though sufficiently offensive to delicacy and good taste, can scarcely be regarded as dangerous. there is an antidote to the poison they contain, in the open and undisguised profligacy with which it is presented. if they are wicked, they have the honesty at least to profess wickedness. the mark of the beast is set visibly on their foreheads; and though they have the boldness to recommend vice, they want the effrontery to make her pass for virtue. in their grossest immoralities, too, they scarcely ever seem to be perfectly in earnest; and appear neither to wish nor to hope to make proselytes. they indulge their own vein of gross riot and debauchery; but they do not seek to corrupt the principles of their readers; and are contented to be reprobated as profligate, if they are admired at the same time for wit and originality. the immorality of mr. moore is infinitely more insidious and malignant. it seems to be his aim to impose corruption upon his readers, by concealing it under the mask of refinement; to reconcile them imperceptibly to the most vile and vulgar sensuality, by blending its language with that of exalted feeling and tender emotion; and to steal impurity into their hearts, by gently perverting the most simple and generous of their affections. in the execution of this unworthy task, he labours with a perseverance at once ludicrous and detestable. he may be seen in every page running round the paltry circle of his seductions with incredible zeal and anxiety, and stimulating his jaded fancy for new images of impurity, with as much melancholy industry as ever outcast of the muses hunted for epithets or metre. it is needless, we hope, to go deep into the inquiry, why certain compositions have been reprobated as licentious, and their authors ranked among the worst enemies of morality. the criterion by which their delinquency may be determined, is fortunately very obvious: no scene can be tolerated in description, which could not be contemplated in reality, without a gross violation of propriety: no expression can be pardoned in poetry to which delicacy could not listen in the prose of real life. no writer can transgress those limits, and be held guiltless; but there are degrees of guiltiness, and circumstances of aggravation or apology, which ought not to be disregarded. a poet of a luxuriant imagination may give too warm a colouring to the representation of innocent endearments, or be betrayed into indelicacies in delineating the allurements of some fair seducer, while it is obviously his general intention to give attraction to the picture of virtue, and to put the reader on his guard against the assault of temptation. mr. moore has no such apology;--he takes care to intimate to us, in every page that the raptures which he celebrates do not spring from the excesses of an innocent love, or the extravagance of a romantic attachment; but are the unhallowed fruits of cheap and vulgar prostitution, the inspiration of casual amours, and the chorus of habitual debauchery. he is at pains to let the world know that he is still fonder of roving, than of loving; and that all the caras and the fannys, with whom he holds dalliance in these pages, have had each a long series of preceding lovers, as highly favoured as their present poetical paramour: that they meet without any purpose of constancy, and do not think it necessary to grace their connexion with any professions of esteem or permanent attachment. the greater part of the book is filled with serious and elaborate description of the ecstasies of such an intercourse, and with passionate exhortations to snatch the joys, which are thus abundantly poured forth from "the fertile fount of sense." to us, indeed, the perpetual kissing, and twining, and panting of these amorous persons, is rather ludicrous than seductive; and their eternal sobbing and whining, raises no emotion in our bosoms, but those of disgust and contempt. even to younger men, we believe, the book will not be very dangerous: nor is it upon their account that we feel the indignation and alarm which we have already endeavoured to express. the life and conversation of our sex, we are afraid is seldom so pure as to leave them much to learn from publications of this description; and they commonly know enough of the reality, to be aware of the absurd illusions and exaggerations of such poetical voluptuaries. in them, therefore, such a composition can work neither corruption nor deception; and it will, in general, be despised and thrown aside, as a tissue of sickly and fantastical conceits, equally remote from truth and respectability. it is upon the other sex, that we conceive its effects may be most pernicious; and it is chiefly as an insult upon their delicacy, and an attack upon their purity, that we are disposed to resent its publication. the reserve in which women are educated; the natural vivacity of their imaginations; and the warmth of their sensibility, renders them peculiarly liable to be captivated by the appearance of violent emotions, and to be misled by the affectation of tenderness or generosity. they easily receive any impression that is made under the apparent sanction of these feelings; and allow themselves to be seduced into any thing, which they can be persuaded is dictated by disinterested attachment, and sincere and excessive love. it is easy to perceive how dangerous it must be for such beings to hang over the pages of a book, in which supernatural raptures, and transcendent passion, are counterfeited in every page; in which, images of voluptuousness are artfully blended with expressions of refined sentiment, and delicate emotion; and the grossest sensuality is exhibited in conjunction with the most gentle and generous affections. they who have not learned from experience, the impossibility of such an union, are apt to be captivated by its alluring exterior. they are seduced by their own ignorance and sensibility; and become familiar with the demon, for the sake of the radiant angel to whom he has been linked by the malignant artifice of the poet. we have been induced to enter this strong protest, and to express ourselves thus warmly against this and the former publications of this author, both from what we hear of the circulation which they have already obtained, and from our conviction that they are calculated, if not strongly denounced to the public, to produce, at this moment, peculiar and irremediable mischief. the style of composition, as we have already hinted, is almost new in this country: it is less offensive than the old fashion of obscenity; and for these reasons, perhaps, is less likely to excite the suspicion of the moralist, or to become the object of precaution to those who watch over the morals of the young and inexperienced. we certainly have known it a permitted study, where performances, infinitely less pernicious, were rigidly interdicted. there can be no time in which the purity of the female character can fail to be of the first importance to every community; but it appears to us, that it requires at this moment to be more carefully watched over than at any other; and that the constitution of society has arrived among us to a sort of crisis, the issue of which may be powerfully influenced by our present neglect or solicitude. from the increasing diffusion of opulence, enlightened or polite society is greatly enlarged, and necessarily becomes more promiscuous and corruptible; and women are now beginning to receive a more extended education, to venture more freely and largely into the fields of literature, and to become more of intellectual and independent creatures, than they have yet been in these islands. in these circumstances, it seems to be of incalculable importance, that no attaint should be given to the delicacy and purity of their expanding minds; that their increasing knowledge should be of good chiefly, and not of evil; that they should not consider modesty as one of the prejudices from which they are now to be emancipated; nor found any part of their new influence upon the licentiousness of which mr. moore invites them to be partakers. the character and the morality of women exercises already a mighty influence upon the happiness and the respectability of the nation; and it is destined, we believe, to exercise a still higher one: but if they should ever cease to be the pure, the delicate, and timid creatures that they now are--if they should cease to overawe profligacy, and to win and to shame men into decency, fidelity, and love of unsullied virtue--it is easy to see that this influence, which has hitherto been exerted to strengthen and refine our society, will operate entirely to its corruption and debasement; that domestic happiness and private honour will be extinguished, and public spirit and national industry most probably annihilated along with them. there is one other consideration which has helped to excite our apprehension on occasion of this particular performance. many of the pieces are dedicated to persons of the first consideration in the country, both for rank and accomplishments; and the author appears to consider the greater part of them as his intimate friends, and undoubted patrons and admirers. now, this we will confess is to us a very alarming consideration. by these channels, the book will easily pass into circulation in those classes of society, which it is of most consequence to keep free of contamination; and from which its reputation and its influence will descend with the greatest effect to the great body of the community. in this reading and opulent country, there are no fashions which diffuse themselves so fast, as those of literature and immorality: there is no palpable boundary between the _noblesse_ and the _bourgeoisie_, as in old france, by which the corruption and intelligence of the former can be prevented from spreading to the latter. all the parts of the mass, act and react upon each other with a powerful and unintermitted agency; and if the head be once infected, the corruption will spread irresistibly through the whole body. it is doubly necessary, therefore, to put the law in force against this delinquent, since he has not only indicated a disposition to do mischief, but seems unfortunately to have found an opportunity. on wordsworth's "the excursion" [from _the edinburgh review_, november, ] _the excursion, being a portion of the recluse, a poem_. by william wordsworth. to. pp. . london, . this will never do. it bears no doubt the stamp of the author's heart and fancy; but unfortunately not half so visibly as that of his peculiar system. his former poems were intended to recommend that system, and to bespeak favour for it by their individual merit;--but this, we suspect, must be recommended by the system--and can only expect to succeed where it has been previously established. it is longer, weaker, and tamer, than any of mr. wordsworth's other productions; with less boldness of originality, and less even of that extreme simplicity and lowliness of tone which wavered so prettily, in the lyrical ballads, between silliness and pathos. we have imitations of cowper, and even of milton here, engrafted on the natural drawl of the lakers--and all diluted into harmony by that profuse and irrepressible wordiness which deluges all the blank verse of this school of poetry, and lubricates and weakens the whole structure of their style. though it fairly fills four hundred and twenty good quarto pages, without note, vignette, or any sort of extraneous assistance, it is stated in the title--with something of an imprudent candour--to be but "a portion" of a larger work; and in the preface, where an attempt is rather unsuccessfully made to explain the whole design, it is still more rashly disclosed, that it is but "a part of the second part of a _long_ and laborious work"--which is to consist of three parts. what mr. wordsworth's ideas of length are, we have no means of accurately judging; but we cannot help suspecting that they are liberal, to a degree that will alarm the weakness of most modern readers. as far as we can gather from the preface, the entire poem--or one of them, for we really are not sure whether there is to be one or two--is of a biographical nature; and is to contain the history of the author's mind, and of the origin and progress of his poetical powers, up to the period when they were sufficiently matured to qualify him for the great work on which he has been so long employed. now, the quarto before us contains an account of one of his youthful rambles in the vales of cumberland, and occupies precisely the period of three days; so that, by the use of a very powerful _calculus_, some estimate may be formed of the probable extent of the entire biography. this small specimen, however, and the statements with which it is prefaced, have been sufficient to set our minds at rest in one particular. the case of mr. wordsworth, we perceive, is now manifestly hopeless; and we give him up as altogether incurable, and beyond the power of criticism. we cannot indeed altogether omit taking precautions now and then against the spreading of the malady;--but for himself, though we shall watch the progress of his symptoms as a matter of professional curiosity and instruction, we really think it right not to harass him any longer with nauseous remedies,--but rather to throw in cordials and lenitives, and wait in patience for the natural termination of the disorder. in order to justify this desertion of our patient, however, it is proper to state why we despair of the success of a more active practice. a man who has been for twenty years at work on such matter as is now before us, and who comes complacently forward with a whole quarto of it after all the admonitions he has received, cannot reasonably be expected to "change his hand, or check his pride," upon the suggestion of far weightier monitors than we can pretend to be. inveterate habit must now have given a kind of sanctity to the errors of early taste; and the very powers of which we lament the perversion, have probably become incapable of any other application. the very quantity, too, that he has written, and is at this moment working up for publication upon the old pattern, makes it almost hopeless to look for any change of it. all this is so much capital already sunk in the concern; which must be sacrificed if it be abandoned: and no man likes to give up for lost the time and talent and labour which he has embodied in any permanent production. we were not previously aware of these obstacles to mr. wordsworth's conversion; and, considering the peculiarities of his former writings merely as the result of certain wanton and capricious experiments on public taste and indulgence, conceived it to be our duty to discourage their repetition by all the means in our power. we now see clearly, however, how the case stands;--and, making up our minds, though with the most sincere pain and reluctance, to consider him as finally lost to the good cause of poetry, shall endeavour to be thankful for the occasional gleams of tenderness and beauty which the natural force of his imagination and affections must still shed over all his productions,--and to which we shall ever turn with delight, in spite of the affectation and mysticism and prolixity, with which they are so abundantly contrasted. long habits of seclusion, and an excessive ambition of originality, can alone account for the disproportion which seems to exist between this author's taste and his genius; or for the devotion with which he has sacrificed so many precious gifts at the shrine of those paltry idols which he has set up for himself among his lakes and his mountains. solitary musings, amidst such scenes, might no doubt be expected to nurse up the mind to the majesty of poetical conception,--(though it is remarkable, that all the greater poets lived or had lived, in the full current of society):--but the collision of equal minds,--the admonition of prevailing impressions--seems necessary to reduce its redundancies, and repress that tendency to extravagance or puerility, into which the self-indulgence and self-admiration of genius is so apt to be betrayed, when it is allowed to wanton, without awe or restraint, in the triumph and delight of its own intoxication. that its flights should be graceful and glorious in the eyes of men, it seems almost to be necessary that they should be made in the consciousness that men's eyes are to behold them,--and that the inward transport and vigour by which they are inspired, should be tempered by an occasional reference to what will be thought of them by those-ultimate dispensers of glory. an habitual and general knowledge of the few settled and permanent maxims, which form the canon of general taste in all large and polished societies--a certain tact, which informs us at once that many things, which we still love and are moved by in secret, must necessarily be despised as childish, or derided as absurd, in all such societies--though it will not stand in the place of genius, seems necessary to the success of its exertions; and though it will never enable any one to produce the higher beauties of art, can alone secure the talent which does produce them, from errors that must render it useless. those who have most of the talent, however, commonly acquire this knowledge with the greatest facility;--and if mr. wordsworth, instead of confining himself almost entirely to the society of the dalesmen and cottagers, and little children, who form the subjects of his book, had condescended to mingle a little more with the people that were to read and judge of it, we cannot help thinking, that its texture would have been considerably improved: at least it appears to us to be absolutely impossible, that any one who had lived or mixed familiarly with men of literature and ordinary judgment in poetry (of course we exclude the coadjutors and disciples of his own school), could ever have fallen into such gross faults, or so long mistaken them for beauties. his first essays we looked upon in a good degree as poetical paradoxes,--maintained experimentally, in order to display talent, and court notoriety;--and so maintained, with no more serious belief in their truth, than is usually generated by an ingenious and animated defence of other paradoxes. but when we find, that he has been for twenty years exclusively employed upon articles of this very fabric, and that he has still enough of raw material on hand to keep him so employed for twenty years to come, we cannot refuse him the justice of believing that he is a sincere convert to his own system, and must ascribe the peculiarities of his composition, not to any transient affectation, or accidental caprice of imagination, but to a settled perversity of taste or understanding, which has been fostered, if not altogether created, by the circumstances to which we have already alluded. the volume before us, if we were to describe it very shortly, we should characterize as a tissue of moral and devotional ravings, in which innumerable changes are rung upon a few very simple and familiar ideas: --but with such an accompaniment of long words, long sentences, and unwieldy phrases--such a hubbub of strained raptures and fantastical sublimities, that it is often extremely difficult for the most skilful and attentive student to obtain a glimpse of the author's meaning--and altogether impossible for an ordinary reader to conjecture what he is about. moral and religious enthusiasm, though undoubtedly poetical emotions, are at the same time but dangerous inspirers of poetry; nothing being so apt to run into interminable dulness or mellifluous extravagance, without giving the unfortunate author the slightest intimation of his danger. his laudable zeal for the efficacy of his preachments, he very naturally mistakes for the ardour of poetical inspiration;--and, while dealing out the high words and glowing phrases which are so readily supplied by themes of this description, can scarcely avoid believing that he is eminently original and impressive:-- all sorts of commonplace notions and expressions are sanctified in his eyes, by the sublime ends for which they are employed; and the mystical verbiage of the methodist pulpit is repeated, till the speaker entertains no doubt that he is the elected organ of divine truth and persuasion. but if such be the common hazards of seeking inspiration from those potent fountains, it may easily be conceived what chance mr. wordsworth had of escaping their enchantment,--with his natural propensities to wordiness, and his unlucky habit of debasing pathos with vulgarity. the fact accordingly is, that in this production he is more obscure than a pindaric poet of the seventeenth century; and more verbose "than even himself of yore"; while the wilfulness with which he persists in choosing his examples of intellectual dignity and tenderness exclusively from the lowest ranks of society, will be sufficiently apparent, from the circumstance of his having thought fit to make his chief prolocutor in this poetical dialogue, and chief advocate of providence and virtue, _an old scotch pedlar_--retired indeed from business--but still rambling about in his former haunts, and gossiping among his old customers, without his pack on his shoulders. the other persons of the drama are, a retired military chaplain, who has grown half an atheist and half a misanthrope--the wife of an unprosperous weaver--a servant girl with her infant--a parish pauper, and one or two other personages of equal rank and dignity. the character of the work is decidedly didactic; and more than nine-tenths of it are occupied with a species of dialogue, or rather a series of long sermons or harangues which pass between the pedlar, the author, the old chaplain, and a worthy vicar, who entertains the whole party at dinner on the last day of their excursion. the incidents which occur in the course of it are as few and trifling as can be imagined;--and those which the different speakers narrate in the course of their discourses, are introduced rather to illustrate their arguments or opinions, than for any interest they are supposed to possess of their own.--the doctrine which the work is intended to enforce, we are by no means certain that we have discovered. in so far as we can collect, however, it seems to be neither more nor less than the old familiar one, that a firm belief in the providence of a wise and beneficent being must be our great stay and support under all afflictions and perplexities upon earth--and that there are indications of his power and goodness in all the aspects of the visible universe, whether living or inanimate--every part of which should therefore be regarded with love and reverence, as exponents of those great attributes. we can testify, at least, that these salutary and important truths are inculcated at far greater length, and with more repetitions, than in any ten volumes of sermons that we ever perused. it is also maintained, with equal conciseness and originality, that there is frequently much good sense, as well as much enjoyment, in the humbler conditions of life; and that, in spite of great vices and abuses, there is a reasonable allowance both of happiness and goodness in society at large. if there be any deeper or more recondite doctrines in mr. wordsworth's book, we must confess that they have escaped us;--and, convinced as we are of the truth and soundness of those to which we have alluded, we cannot help thinking that they might have been better enforced with less parade and prolixity. his effusions on what may be called the physiognomy of external nature, or its moral and theological expression, are eminently fantastic, obscure, and affected.--it is quite time, however, that we should give the reader a more particular account of this singular performance. it opens with a picture of the author toiling across a bare common in a hot summer day, and reaching at last a ruined hut surrounded with tall trees, where he meets by appointment with a hale old man, with an iron-pointed staff lying beside him. then follows a retrospective account of their first acquaintance--formed, it seems, when the author was at a village school; and his aged friend occupied "one room,--the fifth part of a house" in the neighbourhood. after this, we have the history of this reverend person at no small length. he was born, we are happy to find, in scotland--among the hills of athol; and his mother, after his father's death, married the parish schoolmaster--so that he was taught his letters betimes: but then, as it is here set forth with much solemnity, from his sixth year, the boy, of whom i speak, in summer, tended cattle on the hills. and again, a few pages after, that there may be no risk of mistake as to a point of such essential importance-- from early childhood, even, as hath been said, from his _sixth year_, he had been sent abroad, _in summer_, to tend herds: such was his task! in the course of this occupation, it is next recorded, that he acquired such a taste for rural scenery and open air, that when he was sent to teach a school in a neighbouring village, he found it "a misery to him," and determined to embrace the more romantic occupation of a pedlar--or, as mr. wordsworth more musically expresses it, a vagrant merchant bent beneath his load; --and in the course of his peregrinations had acquired a very large acquaintance, which, after he had given up dealing, he frequently took a summer ramble to visit. the author, on coming up to this interesting personage, finds him sitting with his eyes half shut;--and, not being quite sure whether he's asleep or awake, stands "some minutes space" in silence beside him. "at length," says he, with his own delightful simplicity-- at length i hailed him--_seeing that his hat was moist_ with water-drops, as if the brim had newly scooped a running stream!-- --"'tis," said i, "a burning day; my lips are parched with thirst;--but you, i guess, have somewhere found relief." upon this, the benevolent old man points him out a well in a corner, to which the author repairs; and, after minutely describing its situation, beyond a broken wall, and between two alders that "grew in a cold damp nook," he thus faithfully chronicles the process of his return-- my thirst i slaked--and from the cheerless spot withdrawing, straightway to the shade returned, where sate the old man on the cottage bench. the pedlar then gives an account of the last inhabitants of the deserted cottage beside them. these were, a good industrious weaver and his wife and children. they were very happy for a while; till sickness and want of work came upon them; and then the father enlisted as a soldier, and the wife pined in the lonely cottage--growing every year more careless and desponding, as her anxiety and fears for her absent husband, of whom no tidings ever reached her, accumulated. her children died, and left her cheerless and alone; and at last she died also; and the cottage fell to decay. we must say, that there is very considerable pathos in the telling of this simple story; and that they who can get over the repugnance excited by the triteness of its incidents, and the lowness of its objects, will not fail to be struck with the author's knowledge of the human heart, and the power he possesses of stirring up its deepest and gentlest sympathies. his prolixity, indeed, it is not so easy to get over. this little story fills about twenty-five quarto pages; and abounds, of course, with mawkish sentiment, and details of preposterous minuteness. when the tale is told, the travellers take their staffs, and end their first day's journey, without further adventure, at a little inn. the second book sets them forward betimes in the morning. they pass by a village wake; and as they approach a more solitary part of the mountains, the old man tells the author that he is taking him to see an old friend of his, who had formerly been chaplain to a highland regiment--had lost a beloved wife--been roused from his dejection by the first euthusiasm [transcriber's note: sic] of the french revolution--had emigrated on its miscarriage to america--and returned disgusted to hide himself in the retreat to which they were now ascending. that retreat is then most tediously described--a smooth green valley in the heart of the mountain, without trees, and with only one dwelling. just as they get sight of it from the ridge above, they see a funeral train proceeding from the solitary abode, and hurry on with some apprehension for the fate of the misanthrope--whom they find, however, in very tolerable condition at the door, and learn that the funeral was that of an aged pauper who had been boarded out by the parish in that cheap farm-house, and had died in consequence of long exposure to heavy rain. the old chaplain, or, as mr. wordsworth is pleased to call him, the solitary, tells this dull story at prodigious length; and after giving an inflated description of an effect of mountain-mists in the evening sun, treats his visitors with a rustic dinner--and they walk out to the fields at the close of the second book. the third makes no progress in the excursion. it is entirely filled with moral and religious conversation and debate, and with a more ample detail of the solitary's past life, than had been given in the sketch of his friend. the conversation is exceedingly dull and mystical; and the solitary's confessions insufferably diffuse. yet there is very considerable force of writing and tenderness of sentiment in this part of the work. the fourth book is also filled with dialogues ethical and theological; and, with the exception of some brilliant and forcible expressions here and there, consists of an exposition of truisms, more cloudy, wordy, and inconceivably prolix, than any thing we ever met with. in the beginning of the fifth book, they leave the solitary valley, taking its pensive inhabitant along with them, and stray on to where the landscape sinks down into milder features, till they arrive at a church, which stands on a moderate elevation in the centre of a wide and fertile vale. here they meditate for a while among the monuments, till the vicar comes out and joins them;--and recognizing the pedlar for an old acquaintance, mixes graciously in the conversation, which proceeds in a very edifying manner till the close of the book. the sixth contains a choice obituary, or characteristic account of several of the persons who lie buried before this groupe of moralizers; --an unsuccessful lover, who finds consolation in natural history--a miner, who worked on for twenty years, in despite of universal ridicule, and at last found the vein he had expected--two political enemies reconciled in old age to each other--an old female miser--a seduced damsel--and two widowers, one who devoted himself to the education of his daughters, and one who married a prudent middle-aged woman to take care of them. in the beginning of the eighth book, the worthy vicar expresses, in the words of mr. wordsworth's own epitome, "his apprehensions that he had detained his auditors too long--invites them to his house--solitary, disinclined to comply, rallies the wanderer, and somewhat playfully draws a comparison between his itinerant profession and that of a knight-errant--which leads to the wanderer giving an account of changes in the country, from the manufacturing spirit--its favourable effects-- the other side of the picture," etc., etc. after these very poetical themes are exhausted, they all go into the house, where they are introduced to the vicar's wife and daughter; and while they sit chatting in the parlour over a family dinner, his son and one of his companions come in with a fine dish of trouts piled on a blue slate; and, after being caressed by the company, are sent to dinner in the nursery.--this ends the eighth book. the ninth and last is chiefly occupied with the mystical discourses of the pedlar; who maintains, that the whole universe is animated by an active principle, the noblest seat of which is in the human soul; and moreover, that the final end of old age is to train and enable us to hear the mighty stream of _tendency_ uttering, for elevation of our thought, a clear sonorous voice, inaudible to the vast multitude whose doom it is to run the giddy round of vain delight-- with other matters as luminous and emphatic. the hostess at length breaks off the harangue, by proposing that they should all make a little excursion on the lake,--and they embark accordingly; and, after navigating for some time along its shores, and drinking tea on a little island, land at last on a remote promontory, from which they see the sun go down,--and listen to a solemn and pious, but rather long prayer from the vicar. they then walk back to the parsonage door, where the author and his friend propose to spend the evening;--but the solitary prefers walking back in the moonshine to his own valley, after promising to take another ramble with them-- if time, with free consent, be yours to give, and season favours. --and here the publication somewhat abruptly closes. our abstract of the story has been so extremely concise, that it is more than usually necessary for us to lay some specimens of the work itself before our readers. its grand staple, as we have already said, consists of a kind of mystical morality: and the chief characteristics of the style are, that it is prolix and very frequently unintelligible: and though we are very sensible that no great gratification is to be expected from the exhibition of those qualities, yet it is necessary to give our readers a taste of them, both to justify the sentence we have passed, and to satisfy them that it was really beyond our power to present them with any abstract or intelligible account of those long conversations which we have had so much occasion to notice in our brief sketch of its contents. * * * * * there is no beauty, we think, it must be admitted, in such passages; and so little either of interest or curiosity in the incidents they disclose, that we can scarcely conceive that any man to whom they had actually occurred, should take the trouble to recount them to his wife and children by his idle fireside--but, that man or child should think them worth writing down in blank verse, and printing in magnificent quarto, we should certainly have supposed altogether impossible, had it not been for the ample proofs which mr. wordsworth has afforded to the contrary. sometimes their silliness is enhanced by a paltry attempt at effect and emphasis:--as in the following account of that very touching and extraordinary occurrence of a lamb bleating among the mountains. the poet would actually persuade us that he thought the mountains themselves were bleating;--and that nothing could be so grand or impressive. "list!" cries the old pedlar, suddenly breaking off in the middle of one of his daintiest ravings-- --"list!--i heard, from yon huge breast of rock, a solemn bleat; sent forth as if it were the mountain's voice! as if the visible mountain made the cry! again!"--the effect upon the soul was such as he expressed; for, from the mountain's heart the solemn bleat appeared to come; there was no other--and the region all around stood silent, empty of all shape of life. --it was a lamb--left somewhere to itself! what we have now quoted will give the reader a notion of the taste and spirit in which this volume is composed; and yet, if it had not contained something a good deal better, we do not know how we should have been justified in troubling him with any account of it. but the truth is, that mr. wordsworth, with all his perversities, is a person of great powers; and has frequently a force in his moral declamations, and a tenderness in his pathetic narratives, which neither his prolixity nor his affectation can altogether deprive of their effect. * * * * * besides those more extended passages of interest or beauty, which we have quoted, and omitted to quote, there are scattered up and down the book, and in the midst of its most repulsive portions, a very great number of single lines and images, that sparkle like gems in the desart, and startle us with an intimation of the great poetic powers that lie buried in the rubbish that has been heaped around them. it is difficult to pick up these, after we have once passed them by; but we shall endeavour to light upon one or two. the beneficial effect of intervals of relaxation and pastime on youthful minds, is finely expressed, we think, in a single line, when it is said to be-- like vernal ground to sabbath sunshine left. the following image of the bursting forth of a mountain-spring, seems to us also to be conceived with great elegance and beauty. and a few steps may bring us to the spot, where haply crown'd with flowrets and green herbs; the mountain infant to the sun comes forth like human life from darkness.-- the ameliorating effects of song and music on the minds which most delight in them, are likewise very poetically expressed. --and when the stream which overflowed the soul was passed away, a consciousness remained that it had left, deposited upon the silent shore of memory, images and precious thoughts, that shall not die, and cannot be destroyed. nor is any thing more elegant than the representation of the graceful tranquillity occasionally put on by one of the author's favourites; who, though gay and airy, in general-- was graceful, when it pleased him, smooth and still as the mute swan that floats adown the stream, or on the waters of th' unruffled lake anchored her placid beauty. not a leaf that flutters on the bough more light than he, and not a flower that droops in the green shade, more winningly reserved.-- nor are there wanting morsels of a sterner and more majestic beauty; as when, assuming the weightier diction of cowper, he says, in language which the hearts of all readers of modern history must have responded-- --earth is sick, and heaven is weary of the hollow words which states and kingdoms utter when they speak of truth and justice. these examples, we perceive, are not very well chosen--but we have not leisure to improve the selection; and, such as they are, they may serve to give the reader a notion of the sort of merit which we meant to illustrate by their citation.--when we look back to them, indeed, and to the other passages which we have now extracted, we feel half inclined to rescind the severe sentence which we passed on the work at the beginning:--but when we look into the work itself, we perceive that it cannot be rescinded. nobody can be more disposed to do justice to the great powers of mr. wordsworth than we are; and, from the first time that he came before us, down to the present moment, we have uniformly testified in their favour, and assigned indeed our high sense of their value as the chief ground of the bitterness with which we resented their perversion. that perversion, however, is now far more visible than their original dignity; and while we collect the fragments, it is impossible not to lament the ruins from which we are condemned to pick them. if any one should doubt of the existence of such a perversion, or be disposed to dispute about the instances we have hastily brought forward, we would just beg leave to refer him to the general plan and the characters of the poem now before us.--why should mr. wordsworth have made his hero a superannuated pedlar? what but the most wretched and provoking perversity of taste and judgment, could induce any one to place his chosen advocate of wisdom and virtue in so absurd and fantastic a condition? did mr. wordsworth really imagine, that he favourite doctrines were likely to gain any thing in point of effect or authority by being put into the mouth of a person accustomed to higgle about tape, or brass sleeve-buttons? or is it not plain that, independent of the ridicule and disgust which such a personification must give to many of his readers, its adoption exposes his work throughout to the charge of revolting incongruity, and utter disregard of probability or nature? for, after he has thus wilfully debased his moral teacher by a low occupation, is there one word that he puts into his mouth, or one sentiment of which he makes him the organ, that has the most remote reference to that occupation? is there any thing in his learned, abstracted, and logical harangues, that savours of the calling that is ascribed to him? are any of their materials such as a pedlar could possibly have dealt in? are the manners, the diction, the sentiments, in any, the very smallest degree, accommodated to a person in that condition? or are they not eminently and conspicuously such as could not by possibility belong to it? a man who went about selling flannel and pocket-handkerchiefs in this lofty diction, would soon frighten away all his customers; and would infallibly pass either for a madman, or for some learned and affected gentleman, who, in a frolic, had taken up a character which he was peculiarly ill qualified for supporting. the absurdity in this case, we think, is palpable and glaring; but it is exactly of the same nature with that which infects the whole substance of the work--a puerile ambition of singularity engrafted on an unlucky predilection for truisms; and an affected passion for simplicity and humble life, most awkwardly combined with a taste for mystical refinements, and all the gorgeousness of obscure phraseology. his taste for simplicity is evinced, by sprinkling up and down his interminable declamations, a few descriptions of baby-houses, and of old hats with wet brims; and his amiable partiality for humble life, by assuring us, that a wordy rhetorician, who talks about thebes, and allegorizes all the heathen mythology, was once a pedlar--and making him break in upon his magnificent orations with two or three awkward notices of something that he had seen when selling winter raiment about the country--or of the changes in the state of society, which had almost annihilated his former calling. on keats [from _the edinburgh review_, august, ] . _endymion: a poetic romance_. by john keats. vo. pp. . london, . . _lamia, isabella, the eve of st. agnes, and other poems._ by john keats, author of _endymion_. mo. pp. . london, . we had never happened to see either of these volumes till very lately-- and have been exceedingly struck with the genius they display, and the spirit of poetry which breathes through all their extravagance. that imitation of our older writers, and especially of our older dramatists, to which we cannot help flattering ourselves that we have somewhat contributed, has brought on, as it were, a second spring in our poetry; --and few of its blossoms are either more profuse of sweetness or richer in promise, than this which is now before us. mr. keats, we understand, is still a very young man; and his whole works, indeed, bear evidence enough of the fact. they are full of extravagance and irregularity, rash attempts at originality, interminable wanderings, and excessive obscurity. they manifestly require, therefore, all the indulgence that can be claimed for a first attempt:--but we think it no less plain that they deserve it; for they are flushed all over with the rich lights of fancy, and so coloured and bestrewn with the flowers of poetry, that even while perplexed and bewildered in their labyrinths, it is impossible to resist the intoxication of their sweetness, or to shut our hearts to the enchantments they so lavishly present. the models upon which he has formed himself, in the endymion, the earliest and by much the most considerable of his poems, are obviously the faithful shepherdess of fletcher, and the sad shepherd of ben jonson;--the exquisite metres and inspired diction of which he has copied with great boldness and fidelity--and, like his great originals, has also contrived to impart to the whole piece that true rural and poetical air which breathes only in them and in theocritus--which is at once homely and majestic, luxurious and rude, and sets before us the genuine sights and sounds and smells of the country, with all the magic and grace of elysium. his subject has the disadvantage of being mythological; and in this respect, as well as on account of the raised and rapturous tone it consequently assumes, his poetry may be better compared perhaps to the comus and the arcades of milton, of which, also, there are many traces of imitation. the great distinction, however, between him and these divine authors, is, that imagination in them is subordinate to reason and judgment, while, with him, it is paramount and supreme--that their ornaments and images are employed to embellish and recommend just sentiments, engaging incidents, and natural characters, while his are poured out without measure or restraint, and with no apparent design but to unburden the breast of the author, and give vent to the overflowing vein of his fancy. the thin and scanty tissue of his story is merely the light framework on which his florid wreaths are suspended; and while his imaginations go rambling and entangling themselves everywhere, like wild honeysuckles, all idea of sober reason, and plan, and consistency, is utterly forgotten, and is "strangled in their waste fertility." a great part of the work, indeed, is written in the strangest and most fantastical manner that can be imagined. it seems as if the author had ventured everything that occurred to him in the shape of a glittering image or striking expression--taken the first word that presented itself to make up a rhyme, and then made that word the germ of a new cluster of images--a hint for a new excursion of the fancy--and so wandered on, equally forgetful whence he came, and heedless whither he was going, till he had covered his pages with an interminable arabesque of connected and incongruous figures, that multiplied as they extended, and were only harmonized by the brightness of their tints, and the graces of their forms. in this rash and headlong career he has of course many lapses and failures. there is no work, accordingly, from which a malicious critic could cull more matter for ridicule, or select more obscure, unnatural, or absurd passages. but we do not take _that_ to be our office;--and just beg leave, on the contrary, to say, that any one who, on this account, would represent the whole poem as despicable, must either have no notion of poetry, or no regard to truth. it is, in truth, at least as full of genius as of absurdity; and he who does not find a great deal in it to admire and to give delight, cannot in his heart see much beauty in the two exquisite dramas to which we have already alluded, or find any great pleasure in some of the finest creations of milton and shakespeare. there are very many such persons, we verily believe, even among the reading and judicious part of the community--correct scholars we have no doubt many of them, and, it may be, very classical composers in prose and in verse--but utterly ignorant of the true genius of english poetry, and incapable of estimating its appropriate and most exquisite beauties. with that spirit we have no hesitation in saying that mr. k. is deeply imbued--and of those beauties he has presented us with many striking examples. we are very much inclined indeed to add, that we do not know any book which we would sooner employ as a test to ascertain whether any one had in him a native relish for poetry, and a genuine sensibility to its intrinsic charm. the greater and more distinguished poets of our country have so much else in them to gratify other tastes and propensities, that they are pretty sure to captivate and amuse those to whom their poetry is but an hindrance and obstruction, as well as those to whom it constitutes their chief attraction. the interest of the stories they tell--the vivacity of the characters they delineate--the weight and force of the maxims and sentiments in which they abound--the very pathos and wit and humour they display, which may all and each of them exist apart from their poetry and independent of it, are quite sufficient to account for their popularity, without referring much to that still higher gift, by which they subdue to their enchantments those whose souls are attuned to the finer impulses of poetry. it is only where those other recommendations are wanting, or exist in a weaker degree, that the true force of the attraction, exercised by the pure poetry with which they are so often combined, can be fairly appreciated--where, without much incident or many characters, and with little wit, wisdom, or arrangement, a number of bright pictures are presented to the imagination, and a fine feeling expressed of those mysterious relations by which visible external things are assimilated with inward thoughts and emotions, and become the images and exponents of all passions and affections. to an unpoetical reader such passages always appear mere raving and absurdity--and to this censure a very great part of the volume before us will certainly be exposed, with this class of readers. even in the judgment of a fitter audience, however, it must, we fear, be admitted, that, besides the riot and extravagance of his fancy, the scope and substance of mr. k.'s poetry is rather too dreary and abstracted to excite the strongest interest, or to sustain the attention through a work of any great compass or extent. he deals too much with shadowy and incomprehensible beings, and is too constantly rapt into an extramundane elysium, to command a lasting interest with ordinary mortals--and must employ the agency of more varied and coarser emotions, if he wishes to take rank with the seducing poets of this or of former generations. there is something very curious too, we think, in the way in which he, and mr. barry cornwall also, have dealt with the pagan mythology, of which they have made so much use in their poetry. instead of presenting its imaginary persons under the trite and vulgar traits that belong to them in the ordinary systems, little more is borrowed from these than the general conception of their conditions and relations; and an original character and distinct individuality is bestowed upon them, which has all the merit of invention, and all the grace and attraction of the fictions on which it is engrafted. the antients, though they probably did not stand in any great awe of their deities, have yet abstained very much from any minute or dramatic representation of their feelings and affections. in hesiod and homer, they are coarsely delineated by some of their actions and adventures, and introduced to us merely as the agents in those particular transactions; while in the hymns, from those ascribed to orpheus and homer, down to those of callimachus, we have little but pompous epithets and invocations, with a flattering commemoration of their most famous exploits--and are never allowed to enter into their bosoms, or follow out the train of their feelings, with the presumption of our human sympathy. except the love-song of the cyclops to his sea nymph in theocritus--the lamentation of venus for adonis in moschus--and the more recent legend of apuleius, we scarcely recollect a passage in all the writings of antiquity in which the passions of an immortal are fairly disclosed to the scrutiny and observation of men. the author before us, however, and some of his contemporaries, have dealt differently with the subject;--and, sheltering the violence of the fiction under the ancient traditionary fable, have created and imagined an entire new set of characters, and brought closely and minutely before us the loves and sorrows and perplexities of beings, with whose names and supernatural attributes we had long been familiar, without any sense or feeling of their personal character. we have more than doubts of the fitness of such personages to maintain a permanent interest with the modern public;--but the way in which they are here managed, certainly gives them the best chance that now remains for them; and, at all events, it cannot be denied that the effect is striking and graceful. * * * * * there is a fragment of a projected epic, entitled "hyperion," on the expulsion of saturn and the titanian deities by jupiter and his younger adherents, of which we cannot advise the completion: for, though there are passages of some force and grandeur, it is sufficiently obvious, from the specimen before us, that the subject is too far removed from all the sources of human interest, to be successfully treated by any modern author. mr. keats has unquestionably a very beautiful imagination, and a great familiarity with the finest diction of english poetry; but he must learn not to misuse or misapply these advantages; and neither to waste the good gifts of nature and study on intractable themes, nor to luxuriate too recklessly on such as are more suitable. lord brougham on byron [from _the edinburgh review_, january, ] _hours of idleness: a series of poems, original and translated._ by george gordon, lord byron, a minor. newark, . the poesy of this young lord belongs to the class which neither gods nor men are said to permit. indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. his effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they were so much stagnant water. as an extenuation of this offence, the noble author is peculiarly forward in pleading minority. we have it in the title-page, and on the very back of the volume; it follows his name like a favourite part of his _style_. much stress is laid upon it in the preface, and the poems are connected with this general statement of his case, by particular dates, substantiating the age at which each was written. now, the law upon the point of morality, we hold to be perfectly clear. it is a plea available only to the defendant; no plaintiff can offer it as a supplementary ground of action. thus, if any suit could be brought against lord byron, for the purpose of compelling him to put into court a certain quantity of poetry; and if judgment were given against him, it is highly probable that an exception would be taken, were he to deliver _for poetry_, the contents of this volume. to this he might plead _minority;_ but as he now makes voluntary tender of the article, he hath no right to sue, on that ground, for the price is in good current praise, should the goods be unmarketable. this is our view of the law on the point, and we dare to say, so will it be ruled. perhaps, however, in reality, all that he tells us about his youth, is rather with a view to increase our wonder, than to soften our censures. he possibly means to say, "see how a minor can write! this poem was actually composed by a young man of eighteen, and this by one of only sixteen!" but, alas, we all remember the poetry of cowley at ten, and pope at twelve; and so far from hearing, with any surprise, that very poor verses were written by a youth from his leaving school to his leaving college, inclusive, we really believe this to be the most common of all occurrences; that it happens in the life of nine men in ten who are educated in england; and that the tenth man writes better verse than lord byron. his other plea of privilege, our author rather brings forward to wave it. he certainly, however, does allude frequently to his family and ancestors--sometimes in poetry, sometimes in notes; and while giving up his claim on the score of rank, he takes care to remember us of dr. johnson's saying, that when a nobleman appears as an author, his merit should be handsomely acknowledged. in truth, it is this consideration only, that induces us to give lord byron's poems a place in our review, besides our desire to counsel him, that he do forthwith abandon poetry, and turn his talents, which are considerable, and his opportunities, which are great, to better account. with this view, we must beg leave seriously to assure him, that the mere rhyming of the final syllable, even when accompanied by a certain number of feet; nay, although (which does not always happen) those feet should scan regularly, and have been all counted accurately upon the fingers-- is not the whole art of poetry. we would entreat him to believe, that a certain portion of liveliness, somewhat of fancy, is necessary to constitute a poem; and that a poem in the present day, to be read, must contain at least one thought, either in a little degree different from the ideas of former writers, or differently expressed. we put it to his candour, whether there is anything so deserving the name of poetry in verses like the following, written in , and whether, if a youth of eighteen could say anything so uninteresting to his ancestors, a youth of nineteen should publish it. shades of heroes farewell! your descendant, departing from the seat of his ancestors, bids you, adieu! etc., etc. lord byron should also have a care of attempting what the greatest poets have done before him, for comparisons (as he must have had occasion to see at his writing-master's) are odious. gray's ode on eton college, should really have kept out the ten hobbling stanzas "on a distant view of the village and school of harrow." ... however, be this as it may, we fear his translations and imitations are great favourites with lord byron. we have them of all kinds, from anacreon to ossian; and, viewing them as school exercises, they may pass. only why print them after they have had their day and served their turn?... it is a sort of privilege of poets to be egotists; but they should "use it as not abusing it"; and particularly one who piques himself (though indeed at the ripe age of nineteen) of being "an infant bard"--("the artless helicon i boast is youth";)--should either not know, or not seem to know, so much about his own ancestry. besides a poem on the family seat of the byrons, we have another on the self same subject, introduced with an apology, "he certainly had no intention of inserting it"; but really, "the particular request of some friends," etc., etc. it concludes with five stanzas on himself, "the last and youngest of a noble line." there is a good deal also about his maternal ancestors, in a poem on lachin-y-gair, a mountain where he spent part of his youth, and might have learnt that a _pibroch_ is not a bagpipe, any more than a duet means a fiddle.... but whatever judgment may be passed on the poems of this noble junior, it seems we must take them as we find them, and be content; for they are the last we shall ever have from him. he is at best, he says, but an intruder into the groves of parnassus; he never lived in a garret, like thorough-bred poets; and "though he once roved a careless mountaineer in the highlands of scotland," he has not of late enjoyed this advantage. moreover, he expects no profit from his publication; and whether it succeeds or not, "it is highly improbable, from his situation and pursuits hereafter," that he should again condescend to become an author. therefore, let us take what we can get and be thankful. what right have we poor devils to be nice? we are well off to have got so much from a man of this lord's station, who does not live in a garret, but "has the sway" of newstead abbey. again we say, let us be thankful; and, with honest sancho, bid god bless the giver, nor look the gift horse in the mouth. sydney smith on hannah moore [from _the edinburgh review_, april, ] _caelebs in search of a wife; comprehending observations on domestic habits and manners, religion and morals._ vols. london, . this book is written, or supposed to be written (for we would speak timidly of the mysteries of superior beings), by the celebrated mrs. hannah moore! we shall probably give great offence by such indiscretion; but still we must be excused for treating it as a book merely human,--an uninspired production,--the result of mortality left to itself, and depending on its own limited resources. in taking up the subject in this point of view, we solemnly disclaim the slightest intention of indulging in any indecorous levity, or of wounding the religious feelings of a large class of very respectable persons. it is the only method in which we can possibly make this work a proper object of criticism. we have the strongest possible doubts of the attributes usually ascribed to this authoress; and we think it more simple and manly to say so at once, than to admit nominally superlunary claims, which, in the progress of our remarks, we should virtually deny. caelebs wants a wife; and, after the death of his father, quits his estate in northumberland to see the world, and to seek for one of its best productions, a woman, who may add materially to the happiness of his future life. his first journey is to london, where, in the midst of the gay society of the metropolis, of course, he does not find a wife; and his next journey is to the family of mr. stanley, the head of the methodists, a serious people, where, of course, he does find a wife. the exaltation, therefore, of what the authoress deems to be the religious, and the depretiation of what she considers to be the worldly character, and the influence of both upon matrimonial happiness, form the subject of this novel--rather of this _dramatic sermon_. the machinery upon which the discourse is suspended, is of the slightest and most inartificial texture, bearing every mark of haste, and possessing not the slightest claim to merit. events there are none; and scarcely a character of any interest. the book is intended to convey religious advice; and no more labour appears to have been bestowed upon the story, than was merely sufficient to throw it out of the dry, didactic form. lucilla is totally uninteresting; so is mr. stanley; dr. barlow still worse; and caelebs a mere clod or dolt. sir john and lady belfield are rather more interesting--and for a very obvious reason, they have some faults;--they put us in mind of men and women;--they seem to belong to one common nature with ourselves. as we read, we seem to think we might act as such people act, and therefore we attend; whereas imitation is hopeless in the more perfect characters which mrs. moore has set before us; and therefore, they inspire us with very little interest. there are books however of all kinds; and those may not be unwisely planned which set before us very pure models. they are less probable, and therefore less amusing than ordinary stories; but they are more amusing than plain, unfabled precept. sir charles grandison is less agreeable than tom jones; but it is more agreeable than sherlock and tillotson; and teaches religion and morality to many who would not seek it in the productions of these professional writers. but, making every allowance for the difficulty of the task which mrs. moore has prescribed to herself, the book abounds with marks of negligence and want of skill; with representations of life and manners which are either false or trite. temples to friendship and virtue must be totally laid aside, for many years to come, in novels. mr. lane, of the minerva press, has given them up long since; and we were quite surprised to find such a writer as mrs. moore busied in moral brick and mortar. such an idea, at first, was merely juvenile; the second time a little nauseous; but the ten thousandth time, it is quite intolerable. caelebs, upon his first arrival in london, dines out,--meets with a bad dinner,--supposes the cause of that bad dinner to be the erudition of the ladies of the house,--talks to them upon learned subjects, and finds them as dull and ignorant as if they had piqued themselves upon all the mysteries of housewifery. we humbly submit to mrs. moore, that this is not humorous, but strained and unnatural. philippics against frugivorous children after dinner, are too common. lady melbury has been introduced into every novel for these four years last past. peace to her ashes!... the great object kept in view throughout the whole of this introduction, is the enforcement of religious principle, and the condemnation of a life lavished in dissipation and fashionable amusement. in the pursuit of this object, it appears to us, that mrs. moore is much too severe upon the ordinary amusements of mankind, many of which she does not object to in this, or that degree; but altogether. caelebs and lucilla, her _optimus_ and _optima_, never dance, and never go to the play. they not only stay away from the comedies of congreve and farquhar, for which they may easily enough be forgiven; but they never go to see mrs. siddons in the gamester, or in jane shore. the finest exhibition of talent, and the most beautiful moral lessons, are interdicted, at the theatre. there is something in the word _playhouse_, which seems so closely connected, in the minds of these people, with sin, and satan,-- that it stands in their vocabulary for every species of abomination. and yet why? where is every feeling more roused in favour of virtue, than at a good play? where is goodness so feelingly, so enthusiastically learnt? what so solemn as to see the excellent passions of the human heart called forth by a great actor, animated by a great poet? to hear siddons repeat what shakespeare wrote! to behold the child, and his mother--the noble, and the poor artisan,--the monarch, and his subjects--all ages and all ranks convulsed with one common passion--wrung with one common anguish, and, with loud sobs and cries, doing involuntary homage to the god that made their hearts! what wretched infatuation to interdict such amusements as these! what a blessing that mankind can be allured from sensual gratification, and find relaxation and pleasure in such pursuits! but the excellent mr. stanley is uniformly paltry and narrow, --always trembling at the idea of being entertained, and thinking no christian safe who is not dull. as to the spectacles of impropriety which are sometimes witnessed in parts of the theatre; such reasons apply, in much stronger degree, to not driving along the strand, or any of the great public streets of london, after dark; and if the virtue of well educated young persons is made of such very frail materials, their best resource is a nunnery at once. it is a very bad rule, however, never to quit the house for fear of catching cold. mrs. moore practically extends the same doctrine to cards and assemblies. no cards--because cards are employed in gaming; no assemblies--because many dissipated persons pass their lives in assemblies. carry this but a little further, and we must say,--no wine, because of drunkenness; no meat, because of gluttony; no use, that there may be no abuse! the fact is, that mr. stanley wants not only to be religious, but to be at the head of the religious. these little abstinences are the cockades by which the party are known,--the rallying points for the evangelical faction. so natural is the love of power, that it sometimes becomes the influencing motive with the sincere advocates of that blessed religion, whose very characteristic excellence is the humility which it inculcates. we observe that mrs. moore, in one part of her work, falls into the common error about dress. she first blames ladies for exposing their persons in the present style of dress; and then says, if they knew their own interest,--if they were aware how much more alluring they were to men when their charms are less displayed, they would make the desired alteration from motives merely selfish. "oh! if women in general knew what was their real interest! if they could guess with what a charm even the _appearance_ of modesty invests its possessor, they would dress decorously from mere self-love, if not from principle. the designing would assume modesty as an artifice; the coquet would adopt it as an allurement; the pure as her appropriate attraction; and the voluptuous as the most infallible art of seduction." i. . if there is any truth in this passage, nudity becomes a virtue; and no decent woman, for the future, can be seen in garments. we have a few more of mrs. moore's opinions to notice.--it is not fair to attack the religion of the times, because, in large and indiscriminate parties, religion does not become the subject of conversation. conversation must and ought to grow out of materials on which men can agree, not upon subjects which try the passions. but this good lady wants to see men chatting together upon the pelagian heresy-- to hear, in the afternoon, the theological rumours of the day--and to glean polemical tittle-tattle at a tea-table rout. all the disciples of this school uniformly fall into the same mistake. they are perpetually calling upon their votaries for religious thoughts and religious conversation in every thing; inviting them to ride, walk, row, wrestle, and dine out religiously;--forgetting that the being to whom this impossible purity is recommended, is a being compelled to scramble for his existence and support for ten hours out of the sixteen he is awake; --forgetting that he must dig, beg, read, think, move, pay, receive, praise, scold, command and obey;--forgetting, also, that if men conversed as often upon religious subjects as they do upon the ordinary occurrences of the world, that they would converse upon them with the same familiarity, and want of respect,--that religion would then produce feelings not more solemn or exalted than any other topics which constitute at present the common furniture of human understandings. we are glad to find in this work, some strong compliments to the efficacy of works,--some distinct admissions that it is necessary to be honest and just, before we can be considered as religious. such sort of concessions are very gratifying to us; but how will they be received by the children of the tabernacle? it is quite clear, indeed, throughout the whole of the work, that an apologetical explanation of certain religious opinions is intended; and there is a considerable abatement of that tone of insolence with which the improved christians are apt to treat the bungling specimens of piety to be met with in the more antient churches. so much for the extravagances of this lady.--with equal sincerity, and with greater pleasure, we bear testimony to her talents, her good sense, and her real piety. there occurs every now and then in her productions, very original, and very profound observations. her advice is very often characterised by the most amiable good sense, and conveyed in the most brilliant and inviting style. if, instead of belonging to a trumpery gospel faction, she had only watched over those great points of religion in which the hearts of every sect of christians are interested, she would have been one of the most useful and valuable writers of her day. as it is, every man would wish his wife and his children to read _caelebs_;--watching himself its effects;--separating the piety from the puerility;--and showing that it is very possible to be a good christian, without degrading the human understanding to the trash and folly of methodism. macaulay on southey [from _the edinburgh review_, january, ] southey's "colloquies" _sir thomas more; or, colloquies on the progress and prospects of society_. by robert southey, esq., ll.d., poet laureate. vols. vo. london, . it would be scarcely possible for a man of mr. southey's talents and acquirements to write two volumes so large as those before us, which should be wholly destitute of information and amusement. yet we do not remember to have read with so little satisfaction any equal quantity of matter, written by any man of real abilities. we have, for some time past, observed with great regret the strange infatuation which leads the poet laureate to abandon those departments of literature in which he might excel, and to lecture the public on sciences of which he has still the very alphabet to learn. he has now, we think, done his worst. the subject which he has at last undertaken to treat is one which demands all the highest intellectual and moral qualities of a philosophical statesman, an understanding at once comprehensive and acute, a heart at once upright and charitable. mr. southey brings to the task two faculties which were never, we believe, vouchsafed in measure so copious to any human being, the faculty of believing without a reason, and the faculty of hating without a provocation. it is, indeed, most extraordinary, that a mind like mr. southey's, a mind richly endowed in many respects by nature, and highly cultivated by study, a mind which has exercised considerable influence on the most enlightened generation of the most enlightened people that ever existed, should be utterly destitute of the power of discerning truth from falsehood. yet such is the fact. government is to mr. southey one of the fine arts. he judges of a theory, of a public measure, of a religion or a political party, of a peace or a war, as men judge of a picture or a statue, by the effect produced on his imagination. a chain of associations is to him what a chain of reasoning is to other men; and what he calls his opinions are in fact merely his tastes.... now in the mind of mr. southey reason has no place at all, as either leader or follower, as either sovereign or slave. he does not seem to know what an argument is. he never uses arguments himself. he never troubles himself to answer the arguments of his opponents. it has never occurred to him, that a man ought to be able to give some better account of the way in which he has arrived at his opinions than merely that it is his will and pleasure to hold them. it has never occurred to him that there is a difference between assertion and demonstration, that a rumour does not always prove a fact, that a single fact, when proved, is hardly foundation enough for a theory, that two contradictory propositions cannot be undeniable truths, that to beg the question is not the way to settle it, or that when an objection is raised, it ought to be met with something more convincing than "scoundrel" and "blockhead." it would be absurd to read the works of such a writer for political instruction. the utmost that can be expected from any system promulgated by him is that it may be splendid and affecting, that it may suggest sublime and pleasing images. his scheme of philosophy is a mere day-dream, a poetical creation, like the domdaniel cavern, the swerga, or padalon; and indeed it bears no inconsiderable resemblance to those gorgeous visions. like them, it has something of invention, grandeur, and brilliancy. but, like them, it is grotesque and extravagant, and perpetually violates even that conventional probability which is essential to the effect of works of art. the warmest admirers of mr. southey will scarcely, we think, deny that his success has almost always borne an inverse proportion to the degree in which his undertakings have required a logical head. his poems, taken in the mass, stand far higher than his prose works. his official odes, indeed, among which the vision of judgement must be classed, are, for the most part, worse than pye's and as bad as cibber's; nor do we think him generally happy in short pieces. but his longer poems, though full of faults, are nevertheless very extraordinary productions. we doubt greatly whether they will be read fifty years hence; but that, if they are read, they will be admired, we have no doubt whatever.... the extraordinary bitterness of spirit which mr. southey manifests towards his opponents is, no doubt, in a great measure to be attributed to the manner in which he forms his opinions. differences of taste, it has often been remarked, produce greater exasperation than differences on points of science. but this is not all. a peculiar austerity marks almost all mr. southey's judgments of men and actions. we are far from blaming him for fixing on a high standard of morals and for applying that standard to every case. but rigour ought to be accompanied by discernment; and of discernment mr. southey seems to be utterly destitute. his mode of judging is monkish. it is exactly what we should expect from a stern old benedictine, who had been preserved from many ordinary frailties by the restraints of his situation. no man out of a cloister ever wrote about love, for example, so coldly and at the same time so grossly. his descriptions of it are just what we should hear from a recluse who knew the passion only from the details of the confessional. almost all his heroes make love either like seraphim or like cattle. he seems to have no notion of any thing between the platonic passion of the glendoveer who gazes with rapture on his mistress's leprosy, and the brutal appetite of arvalan and roderick. in roderick, indeed, the two characters are united. he is first all clay, and then all spirit. he goes forth a tarquin, and comes back too ethereal to be married. the only love scene, as far as we can recollect, in madoc, consists of the delicate attentions which a savage, who has drunk too much of the prince's excellent metheglin, offers to goervyl. it would be the labour of a week to find, in all the vast mass of mr. southey's poetry, a single passage indicating any sympathy with those feelings which have consecrated the shades of vaucluse and the rocks of meillerie. indeed, if we except some very pleasing images of paternal tenderness and filial duty, there is scarcely any thing soft or humane in mr. southey's poetry. what theologians call the spiritual sins are his cardinal virtues, hatred, pride, and the insatiable thirst of vengeance. these passions he disguises under the name of duties; he purifies them from the alloy of vulgar interests; he ennobles them by uniting them with energy, fortitude, and a severe sanctity of manners; and he then holds them up to the admiration of mankind. this is the spirit of thalaba, of ladurlad, of adosinda, of roderick after his conversion. it is the spirit which, in all his writings, mr. southey appears to affect. "i do well to be angry," seems to be the predominant feeling of his mind. almost the only mark of charity which he vouchsafes to his opponents is to pray for their reformation; and this he does in terms not unlike those in which we can imagine a portuguese priest interceding with heaven for a jew, delivered over to the secular arm after a relapse. we have always heard, and fully believe, that mr. southey is a very amiable and humane man; nor do we intend to apply to him personally any of the remarks which we have made on the spirit of his writings. such are the caprices of human nature. even uncle toby troubled himself very little about the french grenadiers who fell on the glacis of namur. and mr. southey, when he takes up his pen, changes his nature as much as captain shandy, when he girt on his sword. the only opponents to whom the laureate gives quarter are those in whom he finds something of his own character reflected. he seems to have an instinctive antipathy for calm, moderate men, for men who shun extremes, and who render reasons. he treated mr. owen of lanark, for example, with infinitely more respect than he has shown to mr. hallam or to dr. lingard; and this for no reason that we can discover, except that mr. owen is more unreasonably and hopelessly in the wrong than any speculator of our time. mr. southey's political system is just what we might expect from a man who regards politics, not as matter of science, but as matter of taste and feeling. all his schemes of government have been inconsistent with themselves. in his youth he was a republican; yet, as he tells us in his preface to these colloquies, he was even then opposed to the catholic claims. he is now a violent ultra-tory. yet, while he maintains, with vehemence approaching to ferocity, all the sterner and harsher parts of the ultra-tory theory of government, the baser and dirtier part of that theory disgusts him. exclusion, persecution, severe punishments for libellers and demagogues, proscriptions, massacres, civil war, if necessary, rather than any concession to a discontented people; these are the measures which he seems inclined to recommend. a severe and gloomy tyranny, crushing opposition, silencing remonstrance, drilling the minds of the people into unreasoning obedience, has in it something of grandeur which delights his imagination. but there is nothing fine in the shabby tricks and jobs of office; and mr. southey, accordingly, has no toleration for them. when a jacobin, he did not perceive that his system led logically, and would have led practically, to the removal of religious distinctions. he now commits a similar error. he renounces the abject and paltry part of the creed of his party, without perceiving that it is also an essential part of that creed. he would have tyranny and purity together; though the most superficial observation might have shown him that there can be no tyranny without corruption. it is high time, however, that we should proceed to the consideration of the work which is our more immediate subject, and which, indeed, illustrates in almost every page our general remarks on mr. southey's writings. in the preface, we are informed that the author, notwithstanding some statements to the contrary, was always opposed to the catholic claims. we fully believe this; both because we are sure that mr. southey is incapable of publishing a deliberate falsehood, and because his assertion is in itself probable. we should have expected that, even in his wildest paroxysms of democratic enthusiasm, mr. southey would have felt no wish to see a simple remedy applied to a great practical evil. we should have expected that the only measure which all the great statesmen of two generations have agreed with each other in supporting would be the only measure which mr. southey would have agreed with himself in opposing. he has passed from one extreme of political opinion to another, as satan in milton went round the globe, contriving constantly to "ride with darkness." wherever the thickest shadow of the night may at any moment chance to fall, there is mr. southey. it is not every body who could have so dexterously avoided blundering on the daylight in the course of a journey to the antipodes. * * * * * it is not by the intermeddling of mr. southey's idol, the omniscient and omnipotent state, but by the prudence and energy of the people, that england has hitherto been carried forward in civilisation; and it is to the same prudence and the same energy that we now look with comfort and good hope. our rulers will best promote the improvement of the nation by strictly confining themselves to their own legitimate duties, by leaving capital to find its most lucrative course, commodities their fair price, industry and intelligence their natural reward, idleness and folly their natural punishment, by maintaining peace, by defending property, by diminishing the price of law, and by observing strict economy in every department of the state. let the government do this: the people will assuredly do the rest. on croker's "boswell" [from _the edinburgh review_, september, ] _the life of samuel johnson, ll.d. including a journal of a tour to the hebrides, by james boswell, esq. a new edition, with numerous additions and notes._ by john wilson croker, ll.d., f.r.s. vols., vo. london, . this work has greatly disappointed us. whatever faults we may have been prepared to find in it, we fully expected that it would be a valuable addition to english literature; that it would contain many curious facts, and many judicious remarks; that the style of the notes would be neat, clear, and precise; and that the typographical execution would be, as in new editions of classical works it ought to be, almost faultless. we are sorry to be obliged to say that the merits of mr. croker's performance are on a par with those of a certain leg of mutton on which dr. johnson dined, while travelling from london to oxford, and which he, with characteristic energy, pronounced to be "as bad as bad could be, ill fed, ill killed, ill kept, and ill dressed." this edition is ill compiled, ill arranged, ill written, and ill printed. nothing in the work has astonished us so much as the ignorance or carelessness of mr. croker with respect to facts and dates. many of his blunders are such as we should be surprised to hear any well educated gentleman commit, even in conversation. the notes absolutely swarm with misstatements, into which the editor never would have fallen, if he had taken the slightest pains to investigate the truth of his assertions, or if he had even been well acquainted with the book on which he undertook to comment. we will give a few instances-- * * * * * we will not multiply instances of this scandalous inaccuracy. it is clear that a writer who, even when warned by the text on which he is commenting, falls into such mistakes as these, is entitled to no confidence whatever. mr. croker has committed an error of five years with respect to the publication of goldsmith's novel, an error of twelve years with respect to the publication of part of gibbon's history, an error of twenty-one years with respect to an event in johnson's life so important as the taking of the doctoral degree. two of these three errors he has committed, while ostentatiously displaying his own accuracy, and correcting what he represents as the loose assertions of others. how can his readers take on trust his statements concerning the births, marriages, divorces, and deaths of a crowd of people, whose names are scarcely known to this generation? it is not likely that a person who is ignorant of what almost everybody knows can know that of which almost everybody is ignorant. we did not open this book with any wish to find blemishes in it. we have made no curious researches. the work itself, and a very common knowledge of literary and political history, have enabled us to detect the mistakes which we have pointed out, and many other mistakes of the same kind. we must say, and we say it with regret, that we do not consider the authority of mr. croker, unsupported by other evidence, as sufficient to justify any writer who may follow him in relating a single anecdote or in assigning a date to a single event. mr. croker shows almost as much ignorance and heedlessness in his criticisms as in his statements concerning facts. dr. johnson said, very reasonably as it appears to us, that some of the satires of juvenal are too gross for imitation. mr. croker, who, by the way, is angry with johnson for defending prior's tales against the charge of indecency, resents this aspersion on juvenal, and indeed refuses to believe that the doctor can have said anything so absurd. "he probably said--some _passages_ of them--for there are none of juvenal's satires to which the same objection may be made as to one of horace's, that it is _altogether_ gross and licentious."[ ] surely mr. croker can never have read the second and ninth satires of juvenal. [ ] i. . indeed the decisions of this editor on points of classical learning, though pronounced in a very authoritative tone, are generally such that, if a schoolboy under our care were to utter them, our soul assuredly should not spare for his crying. it is no disgrace to a gentleman who has been engaged during near thirty years in political life that he has forgotten his greek and latin. but he becomes justly ridiculous if, when no longer able to construe a plain sentence, he affects to sit in judgment on the most delicate questions of style and metre. from one blunder, a blunder which no good scholar would have made, mr. croker was saved, as he informs us, by sir robert peel, who quoted a passage exactly in point from horace. we heartily wish that sir robert, whose classical attainments are well known, had been more frequently consulted. unhappily he was not always at his friend's elbow; and we have therefore a rich abundance of the strangest errors. boswell has preserved a poor epigram by johnson, inscribed "ad lauram parituram." mr. croker censures the poet for applying the word puella to a lady in laura's situation, and for talking of the beauty of lucina. "lucina," he says, "was never famed for her beauty."[ ] if sir robert peel had seen this note, he probably would have again refuted mr. croker's criticisms by an appeal to horace. in the secular ode, lucina is used as one of the names of diana, and the beauty of diana is extolled by all the most orthodox doctors of the ancient mythology, from homer in his odyssey, to claudian in his rape of proserpine. in another ode, horace describes diana as the goddess who assists the "laborantes utero puellas." but we are ashamed to detain our readers with this fourth-form learning. * * * * * a very large proportion of the two thousand five hundred notes which the editor boasts of having added to those of boswell and malone consists of the flattest and poorest reflections, reflections such as the least intelligent reader is quite competent to make for himself, and such as no intelligent reader would think it worth while to utter aloud. they remind us of nothing so much as of those profound and interesting annotations which are penciled by sempstresses and apothecaries' boys on the dog-eared margins of novels borrowed from circulating libraries; "how beautiful!" "cursed prosy!" "i don't like sir reginald malcolm at all." "i think pelham is a sad dandy." mr. croker is perpetually stopping us in our progress through the most delightful narrative in the language, to observe that really dr. johnson was very rude, that he talked more for victory than for truth, that his taste for port wine with capillaire in it was very odd, that boswell was impertinent, that it was foolish in mrs. thrale to marry the music-master; and so forth. we cannot speak more favourably of the manner in which the notes are written than of the matter of which they consist. we find in every page words used in wrong senses, and constructions which violate the plainest rules of grammar. we have the vulgarism of "mutual friend," for "common friend." we have "fallacy" used as synonymous with "falsehood." we have many such inextricable labyrinths of pronouns as that which follows: "lord erskine was fond of this anecdote; he told it to the editor the first time that he had the honour of being in his company." lastly, we have a plentiful supply of sentences resembling those which we subjoin. "markland, _who_, with jortin and thirlby, johnson calls three contemporaries of great eminence."[ ] "warburton himself did not feel, as mr. boswell was disposed to think he did, kindly or gratefully _of_ johnson."[ ] "it was _him_ that horace walpole called a man who never made a bad figure but as an author."[ ] one or two of these solecisms should perhaps be attributed to the printer, who has certainly done his best to fill both the text and the notes with all sorts of blunders. in truth, he and the editor have between them made the book so bad, that we do not well see how it could have been worse. [ ] iv. . [ ] iv. . [ ] ii. . when we turn from the commentary of mr. croker to the work of our old friend boswell, we find it not only worse printed than in any other edition with which we are acquainted, but mangled in the most wanton manner. much that boswell inserted in his narrative is, without the shadow of a reason, degraded to the appendix. the editor has also taken upon himself to alter or omit passages which he considers as indecorous. this prudery is quite unintelligible to us. there is nothing immoral in boswell's book, nothing which tends to inflame the passions. he sometimes uses plain words. but if this be a taint which requires expurgation, it would be desirable to begin by expurgating the morning and evening lessons. the delicate office which mr. croker has undertaken he has performed in the most capricious manner. one strong, old-fashioned, english word, familiar to all who read their bibles, is changed for a softer synonyme in some passages, and suffered to stand unaltered in others. in one place a faint allusion made by johnson to an indelicate subject, an allusion so faint that, till mr. croker's note pointed it out to us, we had never noticed it, and of which we are quite sure that the meaning would never be discovered by any of those for whose sake books are expurgated, is altogether omitted. in another place, a coarse and stupid jest of dr. taylor on the subject, expressed in the broadest language, almost the only passage, as far as we remember, in all boswell's book, which we should have been inclined to leave out, is suffered to remain. we complain, however, much more of the additions than of the omissions. we have half of mrs. thrale's book, scraps of mr. tyers, scraps of mr. murphy, scraps of mr. cradock, long prosings of sir john hawkins, and connecting observations by mr. croker himself, inserted into the midst of boswell's text. * * * * * the _life of johnson_ is assuredly a great, a very great work. homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets, shakspeare is not more decidedly the first of dramatists, demosthenes is not more decidedly the first of orators than boswell is the first of biographers. he has no second. he has distanced all his competitors so decidedly that it is not worth while to place them. eclipse is first, and the rest nowhere. we are not sure that there is in the whole history of the human intellect so strange a phenomenon as this book. many of the greatest men that ever lived have written biography. boswell was one of the smallest men that ever lived, and he has beaten them all. he was, if we are to give any credit to his own account or to the united testimony of all who knew him, a man of the meanest and feeblest intellect. johnson described him as a fellow who had missed his only chance of immortality by not having been alive when the _dunciad_ was written. beauclerk used his name as a proverbial expression for a bore. he was the laughing-stock of the whole of that brilliant society which has owed to him the greater part of its fame. he was always laying himself at the feet of some eminent man, and begging to be spit upon and trampled upon. he was always earning some ridiculous nickname, and then "binding it as a crown unto him," not merely in metaphor, but literally. he exhibited himself, at the shakespeare jubilee, to all the crowd which filled stratford-on-avon, with a placard round his hat bearing the inscription of corsica boswell. in his tour, he proclaimed to all the world that at edinburgh he was known by the appellation of paoli boswell. servile and impertinent, shallow and pedantic, a bigot and a sot, bloated with family pride, and eternally blustering about the dignity of a born gentleman, yet stooping to be a talebearer, an eavesdropper, a common butt in the taverns of london, so curious to know everybody who was talked about, that, tory and high churchman as he was, he manoeuvred, we have been told, for an introduction to _tom paine_, so vain of the most childish distinctions, that when he had been to court he drove to the office where his book was printing without changing his clothes, and summoned all the printer's devils to admire his new ruffles and sword; such was this man, and such he was content and proud to be. everything which another man would have hidden, everything the publication of which would have made another man hang himself, was matter of gay and clamorous exultation to his weak and diseased mind. what silly things he said, what bitter retorts he provoked, how at one place he was troubled with evil presentiments which came to nothing, how at another place, on waking from a drunken doze, he read the prayerbook and took a hair of the dog that had bitten him, how he went to see men hanged and came away maudlin, how he added five hundred pounds to the fortune of one of his babies because she was not scared at johnson's ugly face, how he was frightened out of his wits at sea, and how the sailors quieted him as they would have quieted a child, how tipsy he was at lady cork's one evening and how much his merriment annoyed the ladies, how impertinent he was to the duchess of argyle and with what stately contempt she put down his impertinence, how colonel macleod sneered to his face at his impudent obtrusiveness, how his father and the very wife of his bosom laughed and fretted at his fooleries; all these things he proclaimed to all the world, as if they had been subjects for pride and ostentatious rejoicing. all the caprices of his temper, all the illusions of his vanity, all his hypochondriac whimsies, all his castles in the air, he displayed with a cool self-complacency, a perfect unconsciousness that he was making a fool of himself, to which it is impossible to find a parallel in the whole history of mankind. he has used many people ill; but assuredly he has used nobody so ill as himself. that such a man should have written one of the best books in the world is strange enough. but this is not all. many persons who have conducted themselves foolishly in active life, and whose conversation has indicated no superior powers of mind, have left us valuable works. goldsmith was very justly described by one of his contemporaries as an inspired idiot, and by another as a being who wrote like an angel, and talked like poor poll. la fontaine was in society a mere simpleton. his blunders would not come in amiss among the stories of hierocles. but these men attained literary eminence in spite of their weaknesses. boswell attained it by reason of his weaknesses. if he had not been a great fool, he would never have been a great writer. without all the qualities which made him the jest and the torment of those among whom he lived, without the officiousness, the inquisitiveness, the effrontery, the toad-eating, the insensibility to all reproof, he never could have produced so excellent a book. he was a slave, proud of his servitude, a paul pry, convinced that his own curiosity and garrulity were virtues, an unsafe companion who never scrupled to repay the most liberal hospitality by the basest violation of confidence, a man without delicacy, without shame, without sense enough to know when he was hurting the feelings of others or when he was exposing himself to derision; and because he was all this, he has, in an important department of literature, immeasurably surpassed such writers as tacitus, clarendon, alfieri, and his own idol johnson. of the talents which ordinarily raise men to eminence as writers, boswell had absolutely none. there is not in all his books a single remark of his own on literature, politics, religion, or society, which is not either common-place or absurd. his dissertations on hereditary gentility, on the slave-trade, and on the entailing of landed estates, may serve as examples. to say that these passages are sophistical would be to pay them an extravagant compliment. they have no pretence to argument, or even to meaning. he has reported innumerable observations made by himself in the course of conversation. of those observations we do not remember one which is above the intellectual capacity of a boy of fifteen. he has printed many of his own letters, and in these letters he is always ranting or twaddling. logic, eloquence, wit, taste, all those things which are generally considered as making a book valuable, were utterly wanting to him. he had, indeed, a quick observation and a retentive memory. these qualities, if he had been a man of sense and virtue, would scarcely of themselves have sufficed to make him conspicuous; but because he was a dunce, a parasite, and a coxcomb, they have made him immortal. those parts of his book which, considered abstractedly, are most utterly worthless, are delightful when we read them as illustrations of the character of the writer. bad in themselves, they are good dramatically, like the nonsense of justice shallow, the clipped english of dr. caius, or the misplaced consonants of fluellen. of all confessors, boswell is the most candid. * * * * * johnson came among [the distinguished writers of his age] the solitary specimen of a past age, the last survivor of the genuine race of grub street hacks; the last of that generation of authors whose abject misery and whose dissolute manners had furnished inexhaustible matter to the satirical genius of pope. from nature he had received an uncouth figure, a diseased constitution, and an irritable temper. the manner in which the earlier years of his manhood had been passed had given to his demeanour, and even to his moral character, some peculiarities appalling to the civilised beings who were the companions of his old age. the perverse irregularity of his hours, the slovenliness of his person, his fits of strenuous exertion, interrupted by long intervals of sluggishness, his strange abstinence, and his equally strange voracity, his active benevolence, contrasted with the constant rudeness and the occasional ferocity of his manners in society, made him, in the opinion of those with whom he lived during the last twenty years of his life, a complete original. an original he was, undoubtedly, in some respects. but if we possessed full information concerning those who shared his early hardships, we should probably find that what we call his singularities of manner were, for the most part, failings which he had in common with the class to which he belonged. he ate at streatham park as he had been used to eat behind the screen at st. john's gate, when he was ashamed to show his ragged clothes. he ate as it was natural that a man should eat, who, during a great part of his life, had passed the morning in doubt whether he should have food for the afternoon. the habits of his early life had accustomed him to bear privation with fortitude, but not to taste pleasure with moderation. he could fast; but, when he did not fast, he tore his dinner like a famished wolf, with the veins swelling on his forehead, and the perspiration running down his cheeks. he scarcely ever took wine. but when he drank it, he drank it greedily and in large tumblers. these were, in fact, mitigated symptoms of that same moral disease which raged with such deadly malignity in his friends savage and boyse. the roughness and violence which he showed in society were to be expected from a man whose temper, not naturally gentle, had been long tried by the bitterest calamities, by the want of meat, of fire, and of clothes, by the importunity of creditors, by the insolence of booksellers, by the derision of fools, by the insincerity of patrons, by that bread which is the bitterest of all food, by those stairs which are the most toilsome of all paths, by that deferred hope which makes the heart sick. through all these things the ill-dressed, coarse, ungainly pedant had struggled manfully up to eminence and command. it was natural that, in the exercise of his power, he should be "eo immitior, quia toleraverat," that, though his heart was undoubtedly generous and humane, his demeanour in society should be harsh and despotic. for severe distress he had sympathy, and not only sympathy, but munificent relief. but for the suffering which a harsh word inflicts upon a delicate mind he had no pity; for it was a kind of suffering which he could scarcely conceive. he would carry home on his shoulders a sick and starving girl from the streets. he turned his house into a place of refuge for a crowd of wretched old creatures who could find no other asylum; nor could all their peevishness and ingratitude weary out his benevolence. but the pangs of wounded vanity seemed to him ridiculous; and he scarcely felt sufficient compassion even for the pangs of wounded affection. he had seen and felt so much of sharp misery, that he was not affected by paltry vexations; and he seemed to think that everybody ought to be as much hardened to those vexations as himself. he was angry with boswell for complaining of a head-ache, with mrs. thrale for grumbling about the dust on the road, or the smell of the kitchen. these were, in his phrase, "foppish lamentations," which people ought to be ashamed to utter in a world so full of sin and sorrow. goldsmith crying because the good-natured man had failed, inspired him with no pity. though his own health was not good, he detested and despised valetudinarians. pecuniary losses, unless they reduced the loser absolutely to beggary, moved him very little. people whose hearts had been softened by prosperity might weep, he said, for such events; but all that could be expected of a plain man was not to laugh. he was not much moved even by the spectacle of lady tavistock dying of a broken heart for the loss of her lord. such grief he considered as a luxury reserved for the idle and the wealthy. a washer-woman, left a widow with nine small children, would not have sobbed herself to death. a person who troubled himself so little about small or sentimental grievances was not likely to be very attentive to the feelings of others in the ordinary intercourse of society. he could not understand how a sarcasm or a reprimand could make any man really unhappy. "my dear doctor," said he to goldsmith, "what harm does it do to a man to call him holofernes?" "pooh, ma'am," he exclaimed to mrs. carter, "who is the worse for being talked of uncharitably?" politeness has been well defined as benevolence in small things. johnson was impolite, not because he wanted benevolence, but because small things appeared smaller to him than to people who had never known what it was to live for fourpence halfpenny a day. the characteristic peculiarity of his intellect was the union of great powers with low prejudices. if we judged of him by the best parts of his mind, we should place him almost as high as he was placed by the idolatry of boswell; if by the worst parts of his mind, we should place him even below boswell himself. where he was not under the influence of some strange scruple, or some domineering passion, which prevented him from boldly and fairly investigating a subject, he was a wary and acute reasoner, a little too much inclined to scepticism, and a little too fond of paradox. no man was less likely to be imposed upon by fallacies in argument, or by exaggerated statements of facts. but, if while he was beating down sophisms and exposing false testimony, some childish prejudices, such as would excite laughter in a well managed nursery, came across him, he was smitten as if by enchantment. his mind dwindled away under the spell from gigantic elevation to dwarfish littleness. those who had lately been admiring its amplitude and its force were now as much astonished at its strange narrowness and feebleness as the fisherman in the arabian tale, when he saw the genie, whose stature had overshadowed the whole sea-coast, and whose might seemed equal to a contest with armies, contract himself to the dimensions of his small prison, and lie there the helpless slave of the charm of solomon. * * * * * the characteristic faults of his style are so familiar to all our readers, and have been so often burlesqued, that it is almost superfluous to point them out. it is well-known that he made less use than any other eminent writer of those strong plain words, anglo-saxon or norman-french, of which the roots lie in the inmost depths of our language; and that he felt a vicious partiality for terms which, long after our own speech had been fixed, were borrowed from the greek and latin, and which, therefore, even when lawfully naturalised must be considered as born aliens, not entitled to rank with the king's english. his constant practice of padding out a sentence with useless epithets, till it became as stiff as the best of an exquisite, his antithetical forms of expression, constantly employed even where there is no opposition in the ideas expressed, his big words wasted on little things, his harsh inversions, so widely different from those graceful and easy inversions which give variety, spirit, and sweetness to the expression of our great old writers, all these peculiarities have been imitated by his admirers and parodied by his assailants, till the public has become sick of the subject. goldsmith said to him, very wittily, and very justly, "if you were to write a fable about little fishes, doctor, you would make the little fishes talk like whales." no man surely ever had so little talent for personation as johnson. whether he wrote in the character of a disappointed legacy-hunter or an empty town fop, of a crazy virtuoso or a flippant coquette, he wrote in the same pompous and unbending style. his speech, like sir piercy shafton's euphuistic eloquence, bewrayed him under every disguise. euphelia and rhodoclea talk as finely as imlac the poet, or seged, emperor of ethiopia. the gay cornelia describes her reception at the country-house of her relations, in such terms as these: "i was surprised, after the civilities of my first reception, to find, instead of the leisure and tranquillity which a rural life always promises, and, if well conducted, might always afford, a confused wildness of care, and a tumultuous hurry of diligence, by which every face was clouded, and every motion agitated." the gentle tranquilla informs us, that she "had not passed the earlier part of life without the flattery of courtship, and the joys of triumph; but had danced the round of gaiety amidst the murmurs of envy and the gratulations of applause, had been attended from pleasure to pleasure by the great, the sprightly, and the vain, and had seen her regard solicited by the obsequiousness of gallantry, the gaiety of wit, and the timidity of love." surely sir john falstaff himself did not wear his petticoats with a worse grace. the reader may well cry out, with honest sir hugh evans, "i like not when a 'oman has a great peard: i spy a great peard under her muffler."[ ] [ ] it is proper to observe that this passage bears a very close resemblance to a passage in the _rambler_ (no. ). the resemblance may possibly be the effect of unconscious plagiarism. we had something more to say. but our article is already too long; and we must close it. we would fain part in good humour from the hero, from the biographer, and even from the editor, who, ill as he has performed his task, has at least this claim to our gratitude, that he has induced us to read boswell's book again. as we close it, the club-room is before us, and the table on which stands the omelet for nugent, and the lemons for johnson. there are assembled those heads which live for ever on the canvas of reynolds. there are the spectacles of burke and the tall thin form of langton, the courtly sneer of beauclerk and the beaming smile of garrick, gibbon tapping his snuff-box and sir joshua with his trumpet in his ear. in the foreground is that strange figure which is as familiar to us as the figures of those among whom we have been brought up, the gigantic body, the huge massy face, seamed with the scars of disease, the brown coat, the black worsted stockings, the grey wig with the scorched foretop, the dirty hands, the nails bitten and paired to the quick. we see the eyes and mouth moving with convulsive twitches; we see the heavy form rolling; we hear it puffing; and then comes the "why, sir!" and the "what then, sir?" and the "no, sir!" and the "you don't see your way through the question, sir!" what a singular destiny has been that of this remarkable man! to be regarded in his own age as a classic, and in ours as a companion. to receive from his contemporaries that full homage which men of genius have in general received from posterity! to be more intimately known to posterity than other men are known to their contemporaries! that kind of fame which is commonly the most transient is, in his case, the most durable. the reputation of those writings, which he probably expected to be immortal, is every day fading; while those peculiarities of manner and that careless table-talk the memory of which, he probably thought, would die with him, are likely to be remembered as long as the english language is spoken in any quarter of the globe. on w. e. gladstone [from _the edinburgh review_, april, ] _the state in its relations with the church_. by w. e. gladstone, esq., student of christ church, and m.p. for newark. vo. second edition. london, . the author of this volume is a young man of unblemished character, and of distinguished parliamentary talents, the rising hope of those stern and unbending tories who follow, reluctantly and mutinously, a leader whose experience and eloquence are indispensable to them, but whose cautious temper and moderate opinions they abhor. it would not be at all strange if mr. gladstone were one of the most unpopular men in england. but we believe that we do him no more than justice when we say that his abilities and his demeanour have obtained for him the respect and good will of all parties. his first appearance in the character of an author is therefore an interesting event; and it is natural that the gentle wishes of the public should go with him to his trial. we are much pleased, without any reference to the soundness or unsoundness of mr. gladstone's theories, to see a grave and elaborate treatise on an important part of the philosophy of government proceed from the pen of a young man who is rising to eminence in the house of commons. there is little danger that people engaged in the conflicts of active life will be too much addicted to general speculation. the opposite vice is that which most easily besets them. the times and tides of business and debate tarry for no man. a politician must often talk and act before he has thought and read. he may be very ill informed respecting a question; all his notions about it may be vague and inaccurate; but speak he must; and if he is a man of ability, of tact, and of intrepidity, he soon finds that, even under such circumstances, it is possible to speak successfully. he finds that there is a great difference between the effect of written words, which are perused and reperused in the stillness of the closet, and the effect of spoken words which, set off by the graces of utterance and gesture, vibrate for a single moment on the ear. he finds that he may blunder without much chance of being detected, that he may reason sophistically, and escape unrefuted. he finds that, even on knotty questions of trade and legislation, he can, without reading ten pages, or thinking ten minutes, draw forth loud plaudits, and sit down with the credit of having made an excellent speech.... the tendency of institutions like those of england is to encourage readiness in public men, at the expense both of fulness and of exactness. the keenest and most vigorous minds of every generation, minds often admirably fitted for the investigation of truth, are habitually employed in producing arguments such as no man of sense would ever put into a treatise intended for publication, arguments which are just good enough to be used once, when aided by fluent delivery and pointed language. the habit of discussing questions in this way necessarily reacts on the intellects of our ablest men, particularly of those who are introduced into parliament at a very early age, before their minds have expanded to full maturity. the talent for debate is developed in such men to a degree which, to the multitude, seems as marvellous as the performance of an italian _improvisatore._ but they are fortunate indeed if they retain unimpaired the faculties which are required for close reasoning or for enlarged speculation. indeed we should sooner expect a great original work on political science, such a work, for example, as the wealth of nations, from an apothecary in a country town, or from a minister in the hebrides, than from a statesman who, ever since he was one-and-twenty, had been a distinguished debater in the house of commons. we therefore hail with pleasure, though assuredly not with unmixed pleasure, the appearance of this work. that a young politician should, in the intervals afforded by his parliamentary avocations, have constructed and propounded, with much study and mental toil, an original theory on a great problem in politics, is a circumstance which, abstracted from all consideration of the soundness or unsoundness of his opinions, must be considered as highly creditable to him. we certainly cannot wish that mr. gladstone's doctrines may become fashionable among public men. but we heartily wish that his laudable desire to penetrate beneath the surface of questions, and to arrive, by long and intent meditation, at the knowledge of great general laws, were much more fashionable than we at all expect it to become. mr. gladstone seems to us to be, in many respects, exceedingly well qualified for philosophical investigation. his mind is of large grasp; nor is he deficient in dialectical skill. but he does not give his intellect fair play. there is no want of light, but a great want of what bacon would have called dry light. whatever mr. gladstone sees is refracted and distorted by a false medium of passions and prejudices. his style bears a remarkable analogy to his mode of thinking, and indeed exercises great influence on his mode of thinking. his rhetoric, though often good of its kind, darkens and perplexes the logic which it should illustrate. half his acuteness and diligence, with a barren imagination and a scanty vocabulary, would have saved him from almost all his mistakes. he has one gift most dangerous to a speculator, a vast command of a kind of language, grave and majestic, but of vague and uncertain import; of a kind of language which affects us much in the same way in which the lofty diction of the chorus of clouds affected the simple-hearted athenian. [greek: o gae tou phthegmatos, os hieron, kai semnon, kai teratodes.] when propositions have been established, and nothing remains but to amplify and decorate them, this dim magnificence may be in place. but if it is admitted into a demonstration, it is very much worse than absolute nonsense; just as that transparent haze, through which the sailor sees capes and mountains of false sizes and in false bearings, is more dangerous than utter darkness. now, mr. gladstone is fond of employing the phraseology of which we speak in those parts of his works which require the utmost perspicuity and precision of which human language is capable; and in this way he deludes first himself, and then his readers. the foundations of his theory which ought to be buttresses of adamant, are made out of the flimsy materials which are fit only for perorations. this fault is one which no subsequent care or industry can correct. the more strictly mr. gladstone reasons on his premises, the more absurd are the conclusions which he brings out; and, when at last his good sense and good nature recoil from the horrible practical inferences to which this theory leads, he is reduced sometimes to take refuge in arguments inconsistent with his fundamental doctrines, and sometimes to escape from the legitimate consequences of his false principles, under cover of equally false history. it would be unjust not to say that this book, though not a good book, shows more talent than many good books. it abounds with eloquent and ingenious passages. it bears the signs of much patient thought. it is written throughout with excellent taste and excellent temper; nor does it, so far as we have observed, contain one expression unworthy of a gentleman, a scholar, or a christian. but the doctrines which are put forth in it appear to us, after full and calm consideration, to be false, to be in the highest degree pernicious, and to be such as, if followed out in practice to their legitimate consequences, would inevitably produce the dissolution of society; and for this opinion we shall proceed to give our reasons with that freedom which the importance of the subject requires, and which mr. gladstone, both by precept and by example, invites us to use, but, we hope, without rudeness, and, we are sure, without malevolence. before we enter on an examination of this theory, we wish to guard ourselves against one misconception. it is possible that some persons who have read mr. gladstone's book carelessly, and others who have merely heard in conversation, or seen in a newspaper, that the member for newark has written in defence of the church of england against the supporters of the voluntary system, may imagine that we are writing in defence of the voluntary system, and that we desire the abolition of the established church. this is not the case. it would be as unjust to accuse us of attacking the church, because we attack mr. gladstone's doctrines, as it would be to accuse locke of wishing for anarchy, because he refuted filmer's patriarchal theory of government, or to accuse blackstone of recommending the confiscation of ecclesiastical property, because he denied that the right of the rector to tithe was derived from the levitical law. it is to be observed, that mr. gladstone rests his case on entirely new grounds, and does not differ more widely from us than from some of those who have hitherto been considered as the most illustrious champions of the church. he is not content with the ecclesiastical polity, and rejoices that the latter part of that celebrated work "does not carry with it the weight of hooker's plenary authority." he is not content with bishop warburton's alliance of church and state. "the propositions of that work generally," he says, "are to be received with qualification"; and he agrees with bolingbroke in thinking that warburton's whole theory rests on a fiction. he is still less satisfied with paley's defence of the church, which he pronounces to be "tainted by the original vice of false ethical principles," and "full of the seeds of evil." he conceives that dr. chalmers has taken a partial view of the subject, and "put forth much questionable matter." in truth, on almost every point on which we are opposed to mr. gladstone, we have on our side the authority of some divine, eminent as a defender of existing establishments. mr. gladstone's whole theory rests on this great fundamental proposition, that the propagation of religious truth is one of the principal ends of government, as government. if mr. gladstone has not proved this proposition, his system vanishes at once. we are desirous, before we enter on the discussion of this important question, to point out clearly a distinction which, though very obvious, seems to be overlooked by many excellent people. in their opinion, to say that the ends of government are temporal and not spiritual is tantamount to saying that the temporal welfare of man is of more importance than his spiritual welfare. but this is an entire mistake. the question is not whether spiritual interests be or be not superior in importance to temporal interests; but whether the machinery which happens at any moment to be employed for the purpose of protecting certain temporal interests of a society be necessarily such a machinery as is fitted to promote the spiritual interests of that society. without a division of labour the world could not go on. it is of very much more importance that men should have food than that they should have pianofortes. yet it by no means follows that every pianoforte-maker ought to add the business of a baker to his own; for, if he did so, we should have both much worse music and much worse bread. it is of much more importance that the knowledge of religious truth should be wisely diffused than that the art of sculpture should flourish among us. yet it by no means follows that the royal academy ought to unite with its present functions those of the society for promoting christian knowledge, to distribute theological tracts, to send forth missionaries, to turn out nollekens for being a catholic, bacon for being a methodist, and flaxman for being a swedenborgian. for the effect of such folly would be that we should have the worst possible academy of arts, and the worst possible society for the promotion of christian knowledge. the community, it is plain, would be thrown into universal confusion, if it were supposed to be the duty of every association which is formed for one good object to promote every other good object. as to some of the ends of civil government, all people are agreed. that it is designed to protect our persons and our property; that it is designed to compel us to satisfy our wants, not by rapine, but by industry; that it is designed to compel us to decide our differences, not by the strong hand, but by arbitration; that it is designed to direct our whole force, as that of one man, against any other society which may offer us injury; these are propositions which will hardly be disputed. now these are matters in which man, without any reference to any higher being, or to any future state, is very deeply interested. every human being, be he idolater, mahometan, jew, papist, socinian, deist, or atheist, naturally loves life, shrinks from pain, desires comforts which can be enjoyed only in communities where property is secure. to be murdered, to be tortured, to be robbed, to be sold into slavery, these are evidently evils from which men of every religion, and men of no religion, wish to be protected; and therefore it will hardly be disputed that men of every religion, and of no religion, have thus far a common interest in being well governed. but the hopes and fears of man are not limited to this short life and to this visible world. he finds himself surrounded by the signs of a power and wisdom higher than his own; and, in all ages and nations, men of all orders of intellect, from bacon and newton, down to the rudest tribes of cannibals, have believed in the existence of some superior mind. thus far the voice of mankind is almost unanimous. but whether there be one god, or many, what may be god's natural and what his mortal attributes, in what relation his creatures stand to him, whether he have ever disclosed himself to us by any other revelation than that which is written in all the parts of the glorious and well ordered world which he has made, whether his revelation be contained in any permanent record, how that record should be interpreted, and whether it have pleased him to appoint any unerring interpreter on earth, these are questions respecting which there exists the widest diversity of opinion, and respecting some of which a large part of our race has, ever since the dawn of regular history, been deplorably in error. now here are two great objects: one is the protection of the persons and estates of citizens from injury; the other is the propagation of religious truth. no two objects more entirely distinct can well be imagined. the former belongs wholly to the visible and tangible world in which we live; the latter belongs to that higher world which is beyond the reach of our senses. the former belongs to this life; the latter to that which is to come. men who are perfectly agreed as to the importance of the former object, and as to the way of obtaining it, differ as widely as possible respecting the latter object. we must, therefore, pause before we admit that the persons, be they who they may, who are trusted with power for promotion of the former object, ought always to use that power for the promotion of the latter object. * * * * * the truth is, that mr. gladstone has fallen into an error very common among men of less talents than his own. it is not unusual for a person who is eager to prove a particular proposition to assume a _major_ of huge extent, which includes that particular proposition, without ever reflecting that it includes a great deal more. the fatal facility with which mr. gladstone multiplies expressions stately and sonorous, but of indeterminate meaning, eminently qualifies him to practise this sleight on himself and on his readers. he lays down broad general doctrines about power, when the only power of which he is thinking is the power of governments, and about conjoint action when the only conjoint action of which he is thinking is the conjoint action of citizens in a state. he first resolves on his conclusion. he then makes a _major_ of most comprehensive dimensions, and having satisfied himself that it contains his conclusion, never troubles himself about what else it may contain: and as soon as we examine it we find that it contains an infinite number of conclusions, every one of which is a monstrous absurdity. it is perfectly true that it would be a very good thing if all the members of all the associations in the world were men of sound religious views. we have no doubt that a good christian will be under the guidance of christian principles, in his conduct as director of a canal company or steward of a charity dinner. if he were, to recur to a case which we have before put, a member of a stage-coach company, he would, in that capacity, remember that "a righteous man regardeth the life of his beast." but it does not follow that every association of men must, therefore, as such association, profess a religion. it is evident that many great and useful objects can be attained in this world only by co-operation. it is equally evident that there cannot be efficient co-operation, if men proceed on the principle that they must not co-operate for one object unless they agree about other objects. nothing seems to us more beautiful or admirable in our social system than the facility with which thousands of people, who perhaps agree only on a single point, can combine their energies for the purpose of carrying that single point. we see daily instances of this. two men, one of them obstinately prejudiced against missions, the other president of a missionary society, sit together at the board of a hospital, and heartily concur in measures for the health and comfort of the patients. two men, one of whom is a zealous supporter and the other a zealous opponent of the system pursued in lancaster's schools, meet at the mendicity society, and act together with the utmost cordiality. the general rule we take to be undoubtedly this, that it is lawful and expedient for men to unite in an association for the promotion of a good object, though they may differ with respect to other objects of still higher importance. * * * * * if, indeed, the magistrate would content himself with laying his opinions and reasons before the people, and would leave the people, uncorrupted by hope or fear, to judge for themselves, we should see little reason to apprehend that his interference in favour of error would be seriously prejudicial to the interests of truth. nor do we, as will hereafter be seen, object to his taking this course, when it is compatible with the efficient discharge of his more especial duties. but this will not satisfy mr. gladstone. he would have the magistrate resort to means which have a great tendency to make malcontents, to make hypocrites, to make careless nominal conformists, but no tendency whatever to produce honest and rational conviction. it seems to us quite clear that an inquirer who has no wish except to know the truth is more likely to arrive at the truth than an inquirer who knows that, if he decides one way, he shall be rewarded, and that, if he decides the other way, he shall be punished. now, mr. gladstone would have governments propagate their opinions by excluding all dissenters from all civil offices. that is to say, he would have governments propagate their opinions by a process which has no reference whatever to the truth or falsehood of those opinions, by arbitrarily uniting certain worldly advantages with one set of doctrines, and certain worldly inconveniences with another set. it is of the very nature of argument to serve the interests of truth; but if rewards and punishments serve the interests of truth, it is by mere accident. it is very much easier to find arguments for the divine authority of the gospel than for the divine authority of the koran. but it is just as easy to bribe or rack a jew into mahometanism as into christianity. from racks, indeed, and from all penalties directed against the persons, the property, and the liberty of heretics, the humane spirit of mr. gladstone shrinks with horror. he only maintains that conformity to the religion of the state ought to be an indispensable qualification for office; and he would, unless we have greatly misunderstood him, think it his duty, if he had the power, to revive the test act, to enforce it rigorously, and to extend it to important classes who were formerly exempt from its operation. this is indeed a legitimate consequence of his principles. but why stop here? why not roast dissenters at slow fires? all the general reasonings on which this theory rests evidently leads to sanguinary persecution. if the propagation of religious truth be a principal end of government, as government; if it be the duty of government to employ for that end its constitutional power; if the constitutional power of governments extends, as it most unquestionably does, to the making of laws for the burning of heretics; if burning be, as it most assuredly is, in many cases, a most effectual mode of suppressing opinions; why should we not burn? if the relation in which government ought to stand to the people be, as mr. gladstone tells us, a paternal relation, we are irresistibly led to the conclusion that persecution is justifiable. for the right of propagating opinions by punishment is one which belongs to parents as clearly as the right to give instruction. a boy is compelled to attend family worship: he is forbidden to read irreligious books: if he will not learn his catechism, he is sent to bed without his supper: if he plays truant at church-time a task is set him. if he should display the precocity of his talents by expressing impious opinions before his brothers and sisters, we should not much blame his father for cutting short the controversy with a horse-whip. all the reasons which lead us to think that parents are peculiarly fitted to conduct the education of their children, and that education is the principal end of a parental relation, lead us also to think that parents ought to be allowed to use punishment, if necessary, for the purpose of forcing children, who are incapable of judging for themselves, to receive religious instruction and to attend religious worship. why, then, is this prerogative of punishment, so eminently paternal, to be withheld from a paternal government? it seems to us, also, to be the height of absurdity to employ civil disabilities for the propagation of an opinion, and then to shrink from employing other punishments for the same purpose. for nothing can be clearer than that, if you punish at all, you ought to punish enough. the pain caused by punishment is pure unmixed evil, and never ought to be inflicted, except for the sake of some good. it is mere foolish cruelty to provide penalties which torment the criminal without preventing the crime. now it is possible, by sanguinary persecution unrelentingly inflicted, to suppress opinions. in this way the albigenses were put down. in this way the lollards were put down. in this way the fair promise of the reformation was blighted in italy and spain. but we may safely defy mr. gladstone to point out a single instance in which the system which he recommends has succeeded. * * * * * but we must proceed in our examination of his theory. having, as he conceives, proved that it is the duty of every government to profess some religion or other, right or wrong, and to establish that religion, he then comes to the question what religion a government ought to prefer; and he decides this question in favour of the form of christianity established in england. the church of england is, according to him, the pure catholic church of christ, which possesses the apostolical succession of ministers, and within whose pale is to be found that unity which is essential to truth. for her decisions he claims a degree of reverence far beyond what she has ever, in any of her formularies, claimed for herself; far beyond what the moderate school of bossuet demands for the pope; and scarcely short of what that school would ascribe to pope and general council together. to separate from her communion is schism. to reject her traditions or interpretations of scripture is sinful presumption. mr. gladstone pronounces the right of private judgment, as it is generally understood throughout protestant europe, to be a monstrous abuse. he declares himself favourable, indeed, to the exercise of private judgment, after a fashion of his own. we have, according to him, a right to judge all the doctrines of the church of england to be sound, but not to judge any of them to be unsound. he has no objection, he assures us, to active inquiry into religious questions. on the contrary, he thinks such inquiry highly desirable, as long as it does not lead to diversity of opinion; which is much the same thing as if he were to recommend the use of fire that will not burn down houses, or of brandy that will not make men drunk. he conceives it to be perfectly possible for mankind to exercise their intellects vigorously and freely on theological subjects, and yet to come to exactly the same conclusions with each other and with the church of england. and for this opinion he gives, as far as we have been able to discover, no reason whatever, except that everybody who vigorously and freely exercises his understanding on euclid's theorems assents to them. "the activity of private judgment," he truly observes, "and the unity and strength of conviction in mathematics vary directly as each other." on this unquestionable fact he constructs a somewhat questionable argument. everybody who freely inquires agrees, he says, with euclid. but the church is as much in the right as euclid. why, then, should not every free inquirer agree with the church? we could put many similar questions. either the affirmative or the negative of the proposition that king charles wrote the _icon basilike_ is as true as that two sides of a triangle are greater than the third side. why, then, do dr. wordsworth and mr. hallam agree in thinking two sides of a triangle greater than the third side, and yet differ about the genuineness of the _icon basilike?_ the state of the exact sciences proves, says mr. gladstone, that, as respects religion, "the association of these two ideas, activity of inquiry, and variety of conclusion, is a fallacious one." we might just as well turn the argument the other way, and infer from the variety of religious opinions that there must necessarily be hostile mathematical sects, some affirming, and some denying, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the sides. but we do not think either the one analogy or the other of the smallest value. our way of ascertaining the tendency of free inquiry is simply to open our eyes and look at the world in which we live; and there we see that free inquiry on mathematical subjects produces unity, and that free inquiry on moral subjects produces discrepancy. there would undoubtedly be less discrepancy if inquirers were more diligent and candid. but discrepancy there will be among the most diligent and candid, as long as the constitution of the human mind, and the nature of moral evidence, continue unchanged. that we have not freedom and unity together is a very sad thing; and so it is that we have not wings. but we are just as likely to see the one defect removed as the other. it is not only in religion that this discrepancy is found. it is the same with all matters which depend on moral evidence, with judicial questions, for example, and with political questions. all the judges will work a sum in the rule of three on the same principle, and bring out the same conclusion. but it does not follow that, however honest and laborious they may be, they will all be of one mind on the douglas case. so it is vain to hope that there may be a free constitution under which every representative will be unanimously elected, and every law unanimously passed; and it would be ridiculous for a statesman to stand wondering and bemoaning himself because people who agree in thinking that two and two make four cannot agree about the new poor law, or the administration of canada. there are two intelligible and consistent courses which may be followed with respect to the exercise of private judgment; the course of the romanist, who interdicts private judgment because of its inevitable inconveniences; and the course of the protestant, who permits private judgment in spite of its inevitable inconveniences. both are more reasonable than mr. gladstone, who would have private judgment without its inevitable inconveniences. the romanist produces repose by means of stupefaction. the protestant encourages activity, though he knows that where there is much activity there will be some aberration. mr. gladstone wishes for the unity of the fifteenth century with the active and searching spirit of the sixteenth. he might as well wish to be in two places at once. * * * * * we have done; and nothing remains but that we part from mr. gladstone with the courtesy of antagonists who bear no malice. we dissent from his opinions, but we admire his talents; we respect his integrity and benevolence; and we hope that he will not suffer political avocations so entirely to engross him, as to leave him no leisure for literature and philosophy. on madame d'arblay [from _the edinburgh review_, january, ] art. ix.--_diary and letters of madame d'arblay_. vols. vo. london, . though the world saw and heard little of madame d'arblay during the last forty years of her life, and though that little did not add to her fame, there were thousands, we believe, who felt a singular emotion when they learned that she was no longer among us. the news of her death carried the minds of men back at one leap, clear over two generations, to the time when her first literary triumphs were won. all those whom we have been accustomed to revere as intellectual patriarchs, seemed children when compared with her; for burke had sate up all night to read her writings, and johnson had pronounced her superior to fielding, when rogers was still a schoolboy, and southey still in petticoats. yet more strange did it seem that we should just have lost one whose name had been widely celebrated before any body had heard of some illustrious men who, twenty, thirty, or forty years ago, were, after a long and splendid career, borne with honour to the grave. yet so it was. frances burney was at the height of fame and popularity before cowper had published his first volume, before person had gone up to college, before pitt had taken his seat in the house of commons, before the voice of erskine had been once heard in westminster hall. since the appearance of her first work, sixty-two years had passed; and this interval had been crowded, not only with political, but also with intellectual revolutions. thousands of reputations had, during that period, sprung up, bloomed, withered, and disappeared. new kinds of composition had come into fashion, had gone out of fashion, had been derided, had been forgotten. the fooleries of della crusca, and the fooleries of kotzebue, had for a time bewitched the multitude, but had left no trace behind them; nor had misdirected genius been able to save from decay the once flourishing school of godwin, of darwin, and of radcliffe. many books, written for temporary effect, had run through six or seven editions, and had then been gathered to the novels of afra behn, and the epic poems of sir richard blackmore. yet the early works of madame d'arblay, in spite of the lapse of years, in spite of the change of manners, in spite of the popularity deservedly obtained by some of her rivals, continued to hold a high place in the public esteem. she lived to be a classic. time set on her fame, before she went hence, that seal which is seldom set except on the fame of the departed. like sir condy rackrent in the tale, she survived her own wake, and overheard the judgment of posterity. having always felt a warm and sincere, though not a blind admiration for her talents, we rejoiced to learn that her diary was about to be made public. our hopes, it is true, were not unmixed with fears. we could not forget the fate of the memoirs of dr. burney, which were published ten years ago. the unfortunate book contained much that was curious and interesting. yet it was received with a cry of disgust, and was speedily consigned to oblivion. the truth is, that it deserved its doom. it was written in madame d'arblay's later style--the worst style that has ever been known among men. no genius, no information, could have saved from proscription a book so written. we, therefore, open the diary with no small anxiety, trembling lest we should light upon some of that peculiar rhetoric which deforms almost every page of the memoirs, and which it is impossible to read without a sensation made up of mirth, shame and loathing. we soon, however, discovered to our great delight that this diary was kept before madame d'arblay became eloquent. it is, for the most part, written in her earliest and best manner; in true woman's english, clear, natural, and lively. the two works are lying side by side before us, and we never turn from the memoirs to the diary without a sense of relief. the difference is as great as the difference between the atmosphere of a perfumer's shop, fetid with lavender water and jasmine soap, and the air of a heath on a fine morning in may. both works ought to be consulted by every person who wishes to be well acquainted with the history of our literature and our manners. but to read the diary is a pleasure; to read the memoirs will always be a task. * * * * * the progress of the mind of frances burney, from her ninth to her twenty-fifth year, well deserves to be recorded. when her education had proceeded no further than the horn-book, she lost her mother, and thenceforward she educated herself. her father appears to have been as bad a father as a very honest, affectionate, and sweet-tempered man can well be. he loved his daughter dearly; but it never seems to have occurred to him that a parent has other duties to perform to children than that of fondling them. it would indeed have been impossible for him to superintend their education himself. his professional engagements occupied him all day. at seven in the morning he began to attend his pupils, and, when london was full, was sometimes employed in teaching till eleven at night. he was often forced to carry in his pocket a tin box of sandwiches, and a bottle of wine and water, on which he dined in a hackney-coach while hurrying from one scholar to another. two of his daughters he sent to a seminary at paris; but he imagined that frances would run some risk of being perverted from the protestant faith if she were educated in a catholic country, and he therefore kept her at home. no governess, no teacher of any art or of any language, was provided for her. but one of her sisters showed her how to write; and, before she was fourteen, she began to find pleasure in reading. it was not, however, by reading that her intellect was formed. indeed, when her best novels were produced, her knowledge of books was very small. when at the height of her fame, she was unacquainted with the most celebrated works of voltaire and molière; and, what seems still more extraordinary, had never heard or seen a line of churchill, who, when she was a girl, was the most popular of living poets. it is particularly deserving of observation, that she appears to have been by no means a novel-reader. her father's library was large; and he had admitted into it so many books which rigid moralists generally exclude, that he felt uneasy, as he afterwards owned, when johnson began to examine the shelves. but in the whole collection there was only a single novel, fielding's amelia. an education, however, which to most girls would have been useless, but which suited fanny's mind better than elaborate culture, was in constant progress during her passage from childhood to womanhood. the great book of human nature was turned over before her. her father's social position was very peculiar. he belonged in fortune and station to the middle class. his daughters seem to have been suffered to mix freely with those whom butlers and waiting-maids call vulgar. we are told that they were in the habit of playing with the children of a wig-maker who lived in the adjoining house. yet few nobles could assemble in the most stately mansions of grosvenor square or st. james's square, a society so various and so brilliant as was sometimes to be found in dr. burney's cabin. his mind, though not very powerful or capacious, was restlessly active; and, in the intervals of his professional pursuits, he had contrived to lay up much miscellaneous information. his attainments, the suavity of his temper, and the gentle simplicity of his manners, had obtained for him ready admission to the first literary circles. while he was still at lynn, he had won johnson's heart by sounding with honest zeal the praises of the english dictionary. in london the two friends met frequently, and agreed most harmoniously. one tie, indeed, was wanting to their mutual attachment. burney loved his own art passionately; and johnson just knew the bell of st. clement's church from the organ. they had, however, many topics in common; and on winter nights their conversations were sometimes prolonged till the fire had gone out, and the candles had burned away to the wicks. burney's admiration of the powers which had produced rasselas and the rambler, bordered on idolatry. he gave a singular proof of this at his first visit to johnson's ill-furnished garret. the master of the apartment was not at home. the enthusiastic visitor looked about for some relique which he might carry away; but he could see nothing lighter than the chairs and the fire-irons. at last he discovered an old broom, tore some bristles from the stump, wrapped them in silver paper, and departed as happy as louis ix when the holy nail of st. denis was found. johnson, on the other hand, condescended to growl out that burney was an honest fellow, a man whom it was impossible not to like. garrick, too, was a frequent visitor in poland street and st. martin's lane. that wonderful actor loved the society of children, partly from good-nature, and partly from vanity. the ecstasies of mirth and terror which his gestures and play of countenance never failed to produce in a nursery, flattered him quite as much as the applause of mature critics. he often exhibited all his powers of mimicry for the amusement of the little burneys, awed them by shuddering and crouching as if he saw a ghost, scared them by raving like a maniac in st. lukes', and then at once became an auctioneer, a chimney-sweeper, or an old woman, and made them laugh till the tears ran down their cheeks. but it would be tedious to recount the names of all the men of letters and artists whom frances burney had an opportunity of seeing and hearing. colman, twining, harris, baretti, hawkesworth, reynolds, barry, were among those who occasionally surrounded the tea-table and supper-tray at her father's modest dwelling. this was not all. the distinction which dr. burney had acquired as a musician, and as the historian of music, attracted to his house the most eminent musical performers of that age. the greatest italian singers who visited england regarded him as the dispenser of fame in their art, and exerted themselves to obtain his suffrage. pachierotti became his intimate friend. the rapacious agujari, who sang for nobody else under fifty pounds an air, sang her best for dr. burney without a fee; and in the company of dr. burney even the haughty and eccentric gabrielli constrained herself to behave with civility. it was thus in his power to give, with scarcely any expense, concerts equal to those of the aristocracy. on such occasions the quiet street in which he lived was blocked up by coroneted chariots, and his little drawing-room was crowded with peers, peeresses, ministers, and ambassadors. on one evening, of which we happen to have a full account, there were present lord mulgrave, lord bruce, lord and lady edgecumbe, lord barrington from the war-office, lord sandwich from the admiralty, lord ashburnham, with his gold key dangling from his pocket, and the french ambassador, m. de guignes, renowned for his fine person and for his success in gallantry. but the great show of the night was the russian ambassador, count orloff, whose gigantic figure was all in a blaze with jewels, and in whose demeanour the untamed ferocity of the scythian might be discerned through a thin varnish of french politeness. as he stalked about the small parlour, brushing the ceiling with his toupee, the girls whispered to each other, with mingled admiration and horror, that he was the favoured lover of his august mistress; that he had borne the chief part in the revolution to which she owed her throne; and that his huge hands, now glittering with diamond rings, had given the last squeeze to the windpipe of her unfortunate husband. with such illustrious guests as these were mingled all the most remarkable specimens of the race of lions--a kind of game which is hunted in london every spring with more than meltonian ardour and perseverance. bruce, who had washed down steaks cut from living oxen with water from the fountains of the nile, came to swagger and talk about his travels. omai lisped broken english, and made all the assembled musicians hold their ears by howling otaheitean love-songs, such as those with which oberea charmed her opano. with the literary and fashionable society which occasionally met under dr. burney's roof, frances can scarcely be said to have mingled. she was not a musician, and could therefore bear no part in the concerts. she was shy almost to awkwardness, and scarcely ever joined in the conversation. the slightest remark from a stranger disconcerted her; and even the old friends of her father who tried to draw her out could seldom extract more than a yes or a no. her figure was small, her face not distinguished by beauty. she was therefore suffered to withdraw quietly to the background, and, unobserved herself, to observe all that passed. her nearest relations were aware that she had good sense, but seem not to have suspected, that under her demure and bashful deportment were concealed a fertile invention and a keen sense of the ridiculous. she had not, it is true, an eye for the fine shades of character. but every marked peculiarity instantly caught her notice and remained engraven on her imagination. thus, while still a girl, she had laid up such a store of materials for fiction as few of those who mix much in the world are able to accumulate during a long life. she had watched and listened to people of every class, from princes and great officers of state down to artists living in garrets, and poets familiar with subterranean cook-shops. hundreds of remarkable persons had passed in review before her, english, french, german, italian, lords and fiddlers, deans of cathedrals and managers of theatres, travellers leading about newly caught savages, and singing women escorted by deputy-husbands. so strong was the impression made on the mind of frances by the society which she was in the habit of seeing and hearing, that she began to write little fictitious narratives as soon as she could use her pen with ease, which, as we have said, was not very early. her sisters were amused by her stories. but dr. burney knew nothing of their existence; and in another quarter her literary propensities met with serious discouragement. when she was fifteen, her father took a second wife. the new mrs. burney soon found out that her daughter-in-law was fond of scribbling, and delivered several good-natured lectures on the subject. the advice no doubt was well-meant, and might have been given by the most judicious friend; for at that time, from causes to which we may hereafter advert, nothing could be more disadvantageous to a young lady than to be known as a novel-writer. frances yielded, relinquished her favourite pursuit, and made a bonfire of all her manuscripts.[ ] [ ] there is some difficulty here as to the chronology. "this sacrifice," says the editor of the diary, "was made in the young authoress's fifteenth year." this could not be; for the sacrifice was the effect, according to the editor's own showing, of the remonstrances of the second mrs. burney; and frances was in her sixteenth year when her father's second marriage took place. she now hemmed and stitched from breakfast to dinner with scrupulous regularity. but the dinners of that time were early; and the afternoon was her own. though she had given up novel-writing, she was still fond of using her pen. she began to keep a diary, and she corresponded largely with a person who seems to have had the chief share in the formation of her mind. this was samuel crisp, an old friend of her father. his name, well known, near a century ago, in the most splendid circles of london, has long been forgotten. crisp was an old and very intimate friend of the burneys. to them alone was confided the name of the desolate old hall in which he hid himself like a wild beast in a den. for them were reserved such remains of his humanity as had survived the failure of his play. frances burney he regarded as his daughter. he called her his fannikin, and she in return called him her dear daddy. in truth, he seems to have done much more than her real father for the development of her intellect; for though he was a bad poet, he was a scholar, a thinker, and an excellent counsellor. he was particularly fond of dr. burney's concerts. they had, indeed, been commenced at his suggestion, and when he visited london he constantly attended them. but when he grew old, and when gout, brought on partly by mental irritation, confined him to his retreat, he was desirous of having a glimpse of that gay and brilliant world from which he was exiled, and he pressed fannikin to send him full accounts of her father's evening parties. a few of her letters to him have been published; and it is impossible to read them without discerning in them all the powers which afterwards produced evelina and cecilia, the quickness in catching every odd peculiarity of character and manner, the skill in grouping, the humour, often richly comic, sometimes even farcical. fanny's propensity to novel-writing had for a time been kept down. it now rose up stronger than ever. the heroes and heroines of the tales which had perished in the flames, were still present to the eye of her mind. one favourite story, in particular, haunted her imagination. it was about a certain caroline evelyn, a beautiful damsel who made an unfortunate love match, and died, leaving an infant daughter. frances began to imagine to herself the various scenes, tragic and comic, through which the poor motherless girl, highly connected on one side, meanly connected on the other, might have to pass. a crowd of unreal beings, good and bad, grave and ludicrous, surrounded the pretty, timid, young orphan; a coarse sea-captain; an ugly insolent fop, blazing in a superb court-dress; another fop, as ugly and as insolent, but lodged on snow hill, and tricked out in second-hand finery for the hampstead ball; an old woman, all wrinkles and rouge, flirting her fan with the air of a miss of seventeen, and screaming in a dialect made up of vulgar french and vulgar english; a poet lean and ragged, with a broad scotch accent. by degrees these shadows acquired stronger and stronger consistence: the impulse which urged frances to write became irresistible; and the result was the history of evelina. then came, naturally enough, a wish, mingled with many fears, to appear before the public; for, timid as frances was, and bashful, and altogether unaccustomed to hear her own praises, it is clear that she wanted neither a strong passion for distinction, nor a just confidence in her own powers. her scheme was to become, if possible, a candidate for fame without running any risk of disgrace. she had no money to bear the expense of printing. it was therefore necessary that some bookseller should be induced to take the risk; and such a bookseller was not readily found. dodsley refused even to look at the manuscript unless he were trusted with the name of the author. a publisher in fleet street, named lowndes, was more complaisant. some correspondence took place between this person and miss burney, who took the name of grafton, and desired that the letters addressed to her might be left at the orange coffee-house. but, before the bargain was finally struck, fanny thought it her duty to obtain her father's consent. she told him that she had written a book, that she wished to have his permission to publish [transcriber's note: "published" in original] it anonymously, but that she hoped that he would not insist upon seeing it. what followed may serve to illustrate what we meant when we said that dr. burney was as bad a father as so good-hearted a man could possibly be. it never seems to have crossed his mind that fanny was about to take a step on which the whole happiness of her life might depend, a step which might raise her to an honourable eminence, or cover her with ridicule and contempt. several people had already been trusted, and strict concealment was therefore not to be expected. on so grave an occasion, it was surely his duty to give his best counsel to his daughter, to win her confidence, to prevent her from exposing herself if her book were a bad one, and, if it were a good one, to see that the terms which she made with the publisher were likely to be beneficial to her. instead of this, he only stared, burst out a laughing, kissed her, gave her leave to do as she liked, and never even asked the name of her work. the contract with lowndes was speedily concluded. twenty pounds were given for the copyright, and were accepted by fanny with delight. her father's inexcusable neglect of his duty, happily caused her no worse evil than the loss of twelve or fifteen hundred pounds. after many delays evelina appeared in january . poor fanny was sick with terror, and durst hardly stir out of doors. some days passed before any thing was heard of the book. it had, indeed, nothing but its own merits to push it into public favour. its author was unknown. the house by which it was published, was not, we believe, held in high estimation. no body of partisans had been engaged to applaud. the better class of readers expected little from a novel about a young lady's entrance into the world. there was, indeed, at that time a disposition among the most respectable people to condemn novels generally; nor was this disposition by any means without excuse; for works of that sort were then almost always silly, and very frequently wicked. soon, however, the first faint accents of praise began to be heard. the keepers of the circulating libraries reported that every body was asking for evelina, and that some person had guessed anstey to be the author. then came a favourable notice in the london review; then another still more favourable in the monthly. and now the book found its way to tables which had seldom been polluted by marble-covered volumes. scholars and statesmen who contemptuously abandoned the crowd of romances to miss lydia languish and miss sukey saunter, were not ashamed to own that they could not tear themselves away from evelina. fine carriages and rich liveries, not often seen east of temple bar, were attracted to the publisher's shop in fleet street. lowndes was daily questioned about the author; but was himself as much in the dark as any of the questioners. the mystery, however, could not remain a mystery long. it was known to brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins: and they were far too proud and too happy to be discreet. dr. burney wept over the book in rapture. daddy crisp shook his fist at his fannikin in affectionate anger at not having been admitted to her confidence. the truth was whispered to mrs. thrale; and then it began to spread fast. the book had been admired while it was ascribed to men of letters long conversant with the world, and accustomed to composition. but when it was known that a reserved, silent young woman had produced the best work of fiction that had appeared since the death of smollett, the acclamations were redoubled. what she had done was, indeed, extraordinary. but, as usual, various reports improved the story till it became miraculous. evelina, it was said, was the work of a girl of seventeen. incredible as this tale was, it continued to be repeated down to our own time. frances was too honest to confirm it. probably she was too much a woman to contradict it; and it was long before any of her detractors thought of this mode of annoyance. yet there was no want of low minds and bad hearts in the generation which witnessed her first appearance. there was the envious kenrick and the savage wolcot, the asp george steevens and the polecat john williams. it did not, however, occur to them to search the parish-register of lynn, in order that they might be able to twit a lady with having concealed her age. that truly chivalrous exploit was reserved for a bad writer of our own time, whose spite she had provoked by not furnishing him with materials for a worthless edition of boswell's life of johnson, some sheets of which our readers have doubtless seen round parcels of better books. but we must return to our story. the triumph was complete. the timid and obscure girl found herself on the highest pinnacle of fame. great men, on whom she had gazed at a distance with humble reverence, addressed her with admiration, tempered by the tenderness due to her sex and age. burke, windham, gibbon, reynolds, sheridan, were among her most ardent eulogists. cumberland acknowledged her merit, after his fashion, by biting his lips and wriggling in his chair whenever her name was mentioned. but it was at streatham that she tasted, in the highest perfection, the sweets of flattery, mingled with the sweets of friendship. mrs. thrale, then at the height of prosperity and popularity--with gay spirits, quick wit, showy though superficial acquirements, pleasing though not refined manners, a singularly amiable temper, and a loving heart--felt towards fanny as towards a younger sister. with the thrales johnson was domesticated. he was an old friend of dr. burney; but he had probably taken little notice of dr. burney's daughters, and fanny, we imagine, had never in her life dared to speak to him, unless to ask whether he wanted a nineteenth or a twentieth cup of tea. he was charmed by her tale, and preferred it to the novels of fielding, to whom, indeed, he had always been grossly unjust. he did not, indeed, carry his partiality so far as to place evelina by the side of clarissa and sir charles grandison; yet he said that his favourite had done enough to have made even richardson feel uneasy. with johnson's cordial approbation of the book was mingled a fondness, half gallant half paternal, for the writer; and his fondness his age and character entitled him to show without restraint. he began by putting her hand to his lips. but soon he clasped her in his huge arms, and implored her to be a good girl. she was his pet, his dear love, his dear little burney, his little character-monger. at one time, he broke forth in praise of the good taste of her caps. at another time, he insisted on teaching her latin. that, with all his coarseness and irritability, he was a man of sterling benevolence, has long been acknowledged. but how gentle and endearing his deportment could be, was not known till the recollections of madame d'arblay were published. we have mentioned a few of the most eminent of those who paid their homage to the author of evelina. the crowd of inferior admirers would require a catalogue as long as that in the second book of the iliad. in that catalogue would be mrs. cholmondeley, the sayer of odd things, and seward, much given to yawning, and baretti, who slew the man in the haymarket, and paoli, talking broken english, and langton, taller by the head than any other member of the club, and lady millar, who kept a vase wherein fools were wont to put bad verses, and jerningham, who wrote verses fit to be put into the vase of lady millar, and dr. franklin-- not, as some have dreamed, the great pennsylvanian dr. franklin, who could not then have paid his respects to miss burney without much risk of being hanged, drawn, and quartered, but dr. franklin the less-- [greek: _aias meion, outi tosos ge osos telamonios aias, alla polu meion._] it would not have been surprising if such success had turned even a strong head, and corrupted even a generous and affectionate nature. but, in the diary, we can find no trace of any feeling inconsistent with a truly modest and amiable disposition. there is, indeed, abundant proof that frances enjoyed, with an intense, though a troubled, joy, the honours which her genius had won; but it is equally clear that her happiness sprang from the happiness of her father, her sister, and her dear daddy crisp. while flattered by the great, the opulent, and the learned, while followed along the steyne at brighton and the pantiles at tunbridge wells by the gaze of admiring crowds, her heart seems to have been still with the little domestic circle in st. martin's street. if she recorded with minute diligence all the compliments, delicate and coarse, which she heard wherever she turned, she recorded them for the eyes of two or three persons who had loved her from infancy, who had loved her in obscurity, and to whom her fame gave the purest and most exquisite delight. nothing can be more unjust than to confound these outpourings of a kind heart, sure of perfect sympathy, with the egotism of a blue-stocking, who prates to all who come near her about her own novel or her own volume of sonnets. it was natural that the triumphant issue of miss burney's first venture should tempt her to try a second. evelina, though it had raised her fame, had added nothing to her fortune. some of her friends urged her to write for the stage. johnson promised to give her his advice as to the composition. murphy, who was supposed to understand the temper of the pit as well as any man of his time, undertook to instruct her as to stage-effect. sheridan declared that he would accept a play from her without even reading it. thus encouraged she wrote a comedy named the witlings. fortunately it was never acted or printed. we can, we think, easily perceive from the little which is said on the subject in the diary, that the witlings would have been damned, and that murphy and sheridan thought so, though they were too polite to say so. happily frances had a friend who was not afraid to give her pain. crisp, wiser for her than he had been for himself, read the manuscript in his lonely retreat, and manfully told her that she had failed, that to remove blemishes here and there would be useless, that the piece had abundance of wit but no interest, that it was bad as a whole, that it would remind every reader of the _femmes savantes_, which, strange to say, she had never read, and that she could not sustain so close a comparison with molière. this opinion, in which dr. burney concurred, was sent to frances in what she called a "hissing, groaning, cat-calling epistle." but she had too much sense not to know that it was better to be hissed and cat-called by her daddy than by a whole sea of heads in the pit of drury-lane theatre; and she had too good a heart not to be grateful for so rare an act of friendship. she returned an answer which shows how well she deserved to have a judicious, faithful, and affectionate adviser. "i intend," she wrote, "to console myself for your censure by this greatest proof i have ever received of the sincerity, candour, and, let me add, esteem, of my dear daddy. and as i happen to love myself rather more than my play, this consolation is not a very trifling one. this, however, seriously i do believe, that when my two daddies put their heads together to concert that hissing, groaning, cat-calling epistle they sent me, they felt as sorry for poor little miss bayes as she could possibly do for herself. you see i do not attempt to repay your frankness with the air of pretended carelessness. but, though somewhat disconcerted just now, i will promise not to let my vexation live out another day. adieu, my dear daddy! i won't be mortified, and i won't be _downed_; but i will be proud to find i have, out of my own family, as well as in it, a friend who loves me well enough to speak plain truth to me." frances now turned from her dramatic schemes to an undertaking far better suited to her talents. she determined to write a new tale, on a plan excellently contrived for the display of the powers in which her superiority to other writers lay. it was in truth a grand and various picture-gallery, which presented to the eye a long series of men and women, each marked by some strong peculiar feature. there were avarice and prodigality, the pride of blood and the pride of money, morbid restlessness and morbid apathy, frivolous garrulity, supercilious silence, a democritus to laugh at every thing, and a heraclitus to lament over every thing. the work proceeded fast, and in twelve months was completed. it wanted something of the simplicity which had been among the most attractive charms of evelina; but it furnished ample proof that the four years which had elapsed since evelina appeared, had not been unprofitably spent. those who saw cecilia in manuscript pronounced it the best novel of the age. mrs. thrale laughed and wept over it. crisp was even vehement in applause, and offered to insure the rapid and complete success of the book for half a crown. what miss burney received for the copyright is not mentioned in the diary; but we have observed several expressions from which we infer that the sum was considerable. that the sale would be great nobody could doubt; and frances now had shrewd and experienced advisers, who would not suffer her to wrong herself. we have been told that the publishers gave her two thousand pounds, and we have no doubt that they might have given a still larger sum without being losers. cecilia was published in the summer of . the curiosity of the town was intense. we have been informed by persons who remember those days, that no romance of sir walter scott was more impatiently awaited, or more eagerly snatched from the counters of the booksellers. high as public expectation was, it was amply satisfied; and cecilia was placed, by general acclamation, among the classical novels of england. miss burney was now thirty. her youth had been singularly prosperous; but clouds soon began to gather over that clear and radiant dawn. events deeply painful to a heart so kind as that of frances, followed each other in rapid succession. she was first called upon to attend the death-bed of her best friend, samuel crisp. when she returned to st. martin's street, after performing this melancholy duty, she was appalled by hearing that johnson had been struck with paralysis; and, not many months later, she parted from him for the last time with solemn tenderness. he wished to look on her once more; and on the day before his death she long remained in tears on the stairs leading to his bedroom, in the hope that she might be called in to receive his blessing. but he was then sinking fast, and, though he sent her an affectionate message, was unable to see her. but this was not the worst. there are separations far more cruel than those which are made by death. frances might weep with proud affection for crisp and johnson. she had to blush as well as to weep for mrs. thrale. life, however, still smiled upon her. domestic happiness, friendship, independence, leisure, letters, all these things were hers; and she flung them all away. * * * * * then the prison was opened, and frances was free once more. johnson, as burke observed, might have added a striking page to his poem on the vanity of human wishes, if he had lived to see his little burney as she went into the palace and as she came out of it. the pleasures, so long untasted, of liberty, of friendship, of domestic affection, were almost too acute for her shattered frame. but happy days and tranquil nights soon restored the health which the queen's toilette and madame schwellenberg's card-table had impaired. kind and anxious faces surrounded the invalid. conversation the most polished and brilliant revived her spirits. travelling was recommended to her; and she rambled by easy journeys from cathedral to cathedral, and from watering-place to watering-place. she crossed the new forest, and visited stonehenge and wilton, the cliffs of lyme, and the beautiful valley of sidmouth. thence she journeyed by powderham castle, and by the ruins of glastonbury abbey, to bath, and from bath, when the winter was approaching, returned well and cheerful to london. there she visited her old dungeon, and found her successor already far on the way to the grave, and kept to strict duty, from morning till midnight, with a sprained ankle and a nervous fever. at this time england swarmed with french exiles driven from their country by the revolution. a colony of these refugees settled at juniper hall in surrey, not far from norbury park, where mr. lock, an intimate friend of the burney family, resided. frances visited norbury, and was introduced to the strangers. she had strong prejudices against them; for her toryism was far beyond, we do not say that of mr. pitt, but that of mr. reeves; and the inmates of juniper hall were all attached to the constitution of , and were therefore more detested by the royalists of the first emigration than petion or marat. but such a woman as miss burney could no longer resist the fascination of that remarkable society. she had lived with johnson and windham, with mrs. montague and mrs. thrale. yet she was forced to own that she had never heard conversation before. the most animated eloquence, the keenest observation, the most sparkling wit, the most courtly grace, were united to charm her. for madame de staël was there, and m. de talleyrand. there too was m. de narbonne, a noble representative of french aristocracy; and with m. de narbonne was his friend and follower general d'arblay, an honourable and amiable man, with a handsome person, frank soldier-like manners, and some taste for letters. the prejudices which frances had conceived against the constitutional royalists of france rapidly vanished. she listened with rapture to talleyrand and madame de staël, joining with m. d'arblay in execrating the jacobins, and in weeping for the unhappy bourbons, took french lessons from him, fell in love with him, and married him on no better provision [transcriber's note: "pro-provision" in original] than a precarious annuity of one hundred pounds. * * * * * we now turn from the life of madame d'arblay to her writings. there can, we apprehend, be little difference of opinion as to the nature of her merit, whatever differences may exist as to its degree. she was emphatically what johnson called her, a character-monger. it was in the exhibition of human passions and whims that her strength lay; and in this department of art she had, we think, very distinguished skill. highest among those who have exhibited human nature by means of dialogue, stands shakespeare. his variety is like the variety of nature, endless diversity, scarcely any monstrosity. the characters of which he has given us an impression, as vivid as that which we receive from the characters of our own associates, are to be reckoned by scores. yet in all these scores hardly one character is to be found which deviates widely from the common standard, and which we should call very eccentric if we met it in real life. the silly notion that every man has one ruling passion, and that this clue, once known, unravels all the mysteries of his conduct, finds no countenance in the plays of shakespeare. there man appears as he is, made up of a crowd of passions, which contend for the mastery over him, and govern him in turn. what is hamlet's ruling passion? or othello's? or harry the fifth's? or wolsey's? or lear's? or shylock's? or benedick's? or macbeth's? or that of cassius? or that of falconbridge? but we might go on for ever. take a single example--shylock. is he so eager for money as to be indifferent to revenge? or so eager for revenge as to be indifferent to money? or so bent on both together as to be indifferent to the honour of his nation and the law of moses? all his propensities are mingled with each other; so that, in trying to apportion to each its proper part, we find the same difficulty which constantly meets us in real life. a superficial critic may say, that hatred is shylock's ruling passion. but how many passions have amalgamated to form that hatred? it is partly the result of wounded pride: antonio has called him dog. it is partly the result of covetousness: antonio has hindered him of half a million; and, when antonio is gone, there will be no limit to the gains of usury. it is partly the result of national and religious feeling: antonio has spit on the jewish gaberdine; and the oath of revenge has been sworn by the jewish sabbath. we might go through all the characters which we have mentioned, and through fifty more in the same way; for it is the constant manner of shakespeare to represent the human mind as lying, not under the absolute dominion of one despotic propensity, but under a mixed government, in which a hundred powers balance each other. admirable as he was in all parts of his art, we most admire him for this, that, while he has left us a greater number of striking portraits than all other dramatists put together, he has scarcely left us a single caricature. shakespeare has had neither equal nor second. but among the writers who, in the point which we have noticed, have approached nearest to the manner of the great master, we have no hesitation in placing jane austen, a woman of whom england is justly proud. she has given us a multitude of characters, all, in a certain sense, commonplace, all such as we meet every day. yet they are all as perfectly discriminated from each other as if they were the most eccentric of human beings. there are, for example, four clergymen, none of whom we should be surprised to find in any parsonage in the kingdom, mr. edward ferrars, mr. henry tilney, mr. edmund bertram, and mr. elton. they are all specimens of the upper part of the middle class. they have all been liberally educated. they all lie under the restraints of the same sacred profession. they are all young. they are all in love. not one of them has any hobbyhorse, to use the phrase of sterne. not one has a ruling passion, such as we read of in pope. who would not have expected them to be insipid likenesses of each other? no such thing. harpagon is not more unlike to jourdain, joseph surface is not more unlike to sir lucius o'trigger, than every one of miss austen's young divines to all his reverend brethren. and almost all this is done by touches so delicate, that they elude analysis, that they defy the powers of description, and that we know them to exist only by the general effect to which they have contributed. a line must be drawn, we conceive, between artists of this class, and those poets and novelists whose skill lies in the exhibiting of what ben jonson called humours. the words of ben are so much to the purpose, that we will quote them-- when some one peculiar quality doth so possess a man, that it doth draw all his affects, his spirits, and his powers, in their confluxions all to run one way, this may be truly said to be a humour. there are undoubtedly persons, in whom humours such as ben describes have attained a complete ascendency. the avarice of elwes, the insane desire of sir egerton brydges for a barony to which he had no more right than to the crown of spain, the malevolence which long meditation on imaginary wrongs generated in the gloomy mind of bellingham, are instances. the feeling which animated clarkson and other virtuous men against the slave-trade and slavery, is an instance of a more honourable kind. seeing that such humours exist, we cannot deny that they are proper subjects for the imitations of art. but we conceive that the imitation of such humours, however skilful and amusing, is not an achievement of the highest order; and, as such humours are rare in real life, they ought, we conceive, to be sparingly introduced into works which profess to be pictures of real life. nevertheless, a writer may show so much genius in the exhibition of these humours, as to be fairly entitled to a distinguished and permanent rank among classics. the chief seats of all, however, the places on the dais and under the canopy, are reserved for the few who have excelled in the difficult art of portraying characters in which no single feature is extravagantly overcharged. if we have expounded the law soundly, we can have no difficulty in applying it to the particular case before us. madame d'arblay has left us scarcely any thing but humours. almost every one of her men and women has some one propensity developed to a morbid degree. in cecilia, for example, mr. delvile never opens his lips without some allusion to his own birth and station; or mr. briggs, without some allusion to the hoarding of money; or mr. hobson, without betraying the self-indulgence and self-importance of a purse-proud upstart; or mr. simkins, without uttering some sneaking remark for the purpose of currying favour with his customers; or mr. meadows, without expressing apathy and weariness of life; or mr. albany, without declaiming about the vices of the rich and the misery of the poor; or mrs. belfield, without some indelicate eulogy on her son; or lady margaret, without indicating jealousy of her husband. morrice is all skipping, officious impertinence, mr. gosport all sarcasm, lady honoria all lively prattle, miss larolles all silly prattle. if ever madame d'arblay aimed at more, as in the character of monckton, we do not think that she succeeded well. we are, therefore, forced to refuse to madame d'arblay a place in the highest rank of art; but we cannot deny that, in the rank to which she belonged, she had few equals, and scarcely any superior. the variety of humours which is to be found in her novels is immense; and though the talk of each person separately is monotonous, the general effect is not monotony, but a very lively and agreeable diversity. her plots are rudely constructed and improbable, if we consider them in themselves. but they are admirably framed for the purpose of exhibiting striking groups of eccentric characters, each governed by his own peculiar whim, each talking his own peculiar jargon, and each bringing out by opposition the oddities of all the rest. we will give one example out of many which occur to us. all probability is violated in order to bring mr. delvile, mr. briggs, mr. hobson, and mr. albany into a room together. but when we have them there, we soon forget probability in the exquisitely ludicrous effect which is produced by the conflict of four old fools, each raging with a monomania of his own, each talking a dialect of his own, and each inflaming all the others anew every time he opens his mouth. yet one word more. it is not only on account of the intrinsic merit of madame d'arblay's early works that she is entitled to honourable mention. her appearance is an important epoch in our literary history. evelina was the first tale written by a woman, and purporting to be a picture of life and manners, that lived or deserved to live. the female quixote is no exception. that work has undoubtedly great merit, when considered as a wild satirical harlequinade; but, if we consider it as a picture of life and manners, we must pronounce it more absurd than any of the romances which it was designed to ridicule. indeed, most of the popular novels which preceded evelina, were such as no lady would have written; and many of them were such as no lady could without confusion own that she had read. the very name of novel was held in horror among religious people. in decent families which did not profess extraordinary sanctity, there was a strong feeling against all such works. sir anthony absolute, two or three years before evelina appeared, spoke the sense of the great body of sober fathers and husbands, when he pronounced the circulating library an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge. this feeling, on the part of the grave and reflecting, increased the evil from which it had sprung. the novelist, having little character to lose, and having few readers among serious people, took without scruple liberties which in our generation seem almost incredible. miss burney did for the english novel what jeremy collier did for the english drama; and she did it in a better way. she first showed that a tale might be written in which both the fashionable and the vulgar life of london might be exhibited with great force, and with broad comic humour, and which yet should not contain a single line inconsistent with rigid morality, or even with virgin delicacy. she took away the reproach which lay on a most useful and delightful species of composition. she vindicated the right of her sex to an equal share in a fair and noble province of letters. several accomplished women have followed in her track. at present, the novels which we owe to english ladies form no small part of the literary glory of our country. no class of works is more honourably distinguished by fine observation, by grace, by delicate wit, by pure moral feeling. several among the successors of madame d'arblay have equalled her; two, we think, have surpassed her. but the fact that she has been surpassed, gives her an additional claim to our respect and gratitude; for in truth we owe to her, not only evelina, cecilia, and camilla, but also mansfield park and the absentee. anonymous on wordsworth [from _the edinburgh review_, october, ] _poems_, in two volumes. by w. wordsworth. london, . this author is known to belong to a certain brotherhood of poets, who have haunted for some years about the lakes of cumberland; and is generally looked upon, we believe, as the purest model of the excellences and peculiarities of the school which they have been labouring to establish. of the general merits of that school, we have had occasion to express our opinion pretty fully, in more places than one, and even to make some allusion to the former publications of the writer now before us. we are glad, however, to have found an opportunity of attending somewhat more particularly to his pretentions. the lyrical ballads were unquestionably popular; and, we have no hesitation in saying, deservedly popular: for in spite of their occasional vulgarity, affectation, and silliness, they were undoubtedly characterised by a strong spirit of originality, of pathos, and natural feeling; and recommended to all good minds by the clear impression which they bore of the amiable disposition and virtuous principles of the author. by the help of these qualities, they were enabled, not only to recommend themselves to the indulgence of many judicious readers, but even to beget among a pretty numerous class of persons, a sort of admiration of the very defects by which they were attended. it was on this account chiefly, that we thought it necessary to set ourselves against the alarming innovation. childishness, conceit, and affectation, are not of themselves very popular or attractive; and though mere novelty has sometimes been found sufficient to give them a temporary currency, we should have had no fear of their prevailing to any dangerous extent, if they had been graced with no more seductive accompaniments. it was precisely because the perverseness and bad taste of this new school was combined with a great deal of genius and of laudable feeling, that we were afraid of their spreading and gaining ground among us, and that we entered into the discussion with a degree of zeal and animosity which some might think unreasonable towards authors, to whom so much merit had been conceded. there were times and moods, indeed, in which we were led to suspect ourselves of unjustifiable severity, and to doubt, whether a sense of public duty had not carried us rather too far in reprobation of errors, that seemed to be atoned for, by excellences of no vulgar description. at other times the magnitude of these errors--the disgusting absurdities into which they led their feebler admirers, and the derision and contempt which they drew from the more fastidious, even upon the merits with which they were associated, made us wonder more than ever at the perversity by which they were retained, and regret that we had not declared ourselves against them with still more formidable and decided hostility. in this temper of mind, we read the _annonce_ of mr. wordsworth's publication with a good deal of interest and expectation, and opened his volumes with greater anxiety, than he or his admirers will probably give us credit for. we have been greatly disappointed certainly as to the quality of the poetry; but we doubt whether the publication has afforded so much satisfaction to any other of his readers:--it has freed us from all doubt or hesitation as to the justice of our former censures, and has brought the matter to a test, which we cannot help hoping may be convincing to the author himself. mr. wordsworth, we think, has now brought the question, as to the merit of his new school of poetry, to a very fair and decisive issue. the volumes before us are much more strongly marked by its peculiarities than any former publication of the fraternity. in our apprehension, they are, on this very account, infinitely less interesting or meritorious; but it belongs to the public, and not to us, to decide upon their merit, and we will confess, that so strong is our conviction of their obvious inferiority, and the grounds of it, that we are willing for once to waive our right of appealing to posterity, and to take the judgment of the present generation of readers, and even of mr. wordsworth's former admirers, as conclusive on this occasion. if these volumes, which have all the benefit of the author's former popularity, turn out to be nearly as popular as the lyrical ballads--if they sell nearly to the same extent--or are quoted and imitated among half as many individuals, we shall admit that mr. wordsworth has come much nearer the truth in his judgment of what constitutes the charm of poetry, than we had previously imagined--and shall institute a more serious and respectful inquiry into his principles of composition than we have yet thought necessary. on the other hand,--if this little work, selected from the compositions of five maturer years, and written avowedly for the purpose of exalting a system, which has already excited a good deal of attention, should be generally rejected by those whose prepossessions were in its favour, there is room to hope, not only that the system itself will meet with no more encouragement, but even that the author will be persuaded to abandon a plan of writing, which defrauds his industry and talents of their natural reward. putting ourselves thus upon our country, we certainly look for a verdict against this publication; and have little doubt indeed of the result, upon a fair consideration of the evidence contained in these volumes. to accelerate that result, and to give a general view of the evidence, to those into whose hands the record may not have already fallen, we must now make a few observations and extracts. we shall not resume any of the particular discussions by which we formerly attempted to ascertain the value of the improvements which this new school has effected in poetry: but shall lay the grounds of our opposition, for this time, a little more broadly. the end of poetry, we take it, is to please--and the same, we think, is strictly applicable to every metrical composition from which we receive pleasure, without any laborious exercise of the understanding. their pleasure may, in general, be analysed into three parts--that which we receive from the excitement of passion or emotion--that which is derived from the play of imagination, or the easy exercise of reason--and that which depends on the character and qualities of the diction. the two first are the vital and primary springs of poetical delight, and can scarcely require explanation to anyone. the last has been alternately over-rated and undervalued by the possessors of the poetical art, and is in such low estimation with the author now before us and his associates, that it is necessary to say a few words in explanation of it. one great beauty of diction exists only for those who have some degree of scholarship or critical skill. this is what depends on the exquisite _propriety_ of the words employed, and the delicacy with which they are adapted to the meaning which is to be expressed. many of the finest passages in virgil and pope derive their principal charm from the fine propriety of their diction. another source of beauty, which extends only to the more instructed class of readers, is that which consists in the judicious or happy application of expressions which have been sanctified by the use of famous writers, or which bear the stamp of a simple or venerable antiquity. there are other beauties of diction, however, which are perceptible by all--the beauties of sweet sounds and pleasant associations. the melody of words and verses is indifferent to no reader of poetry; but the chief recommendation of poetical language is certainly derived from those general associations, which give it a character of dignity or elegance, sublimity or tenderness. everyone knows that there are low and mean expressions, as well as lofty and grave ones; and that some words bear the impression of coarseness and vulgarity, as clearly as others do of refinement and affection. we do not mean, of course, to say anything in defiance of the hackneyed commonplace of ordinary versemen. whatever might have been the original character of these unlucky phrases, they are now associated with nothing but ideas of schoolboy imbecility and vulgar affectation. but what we do maintain is, that much of the most popular poetry in the world owes its celebrity chiefly to the beauty of its diction; and that no poetry can be long or generally acceptable, the language of which is coarse, inelegant, or infantine. from this great source of pleasure, we think the readers of mr. wordsworth are in great measure cut off. his diction has nowhere any pretensions to elegance or dignity; and he has scarcely ever condescended to give the grace of correctness or melody to his versification. if it were merely slovenly or neglected, however, all this might be endured. strong sense and powerful feeling will ennoble any expressions; or, at least, no one who is capable of estimating these higher merits, will be disposed to mark these little defects. but, in good truth, no man, now-a-days, composes verses for publication, with a slovenly neglect of their language. it is a fine and laborious manufacture, which can scarcely ever be made in a hurry; and the faults which it has, may, for the most part, be set down to bad taste or incapacity, rather than to carelessness or oversight. with mr. wordsworth and his friends it is plain that their peculiarities of diction are things of choice, and not of accident. they write as they do, upon principle and system; and it evidently costs them much pains to keep _down_ to the standard which they have proffered themselves. they are to the full as much mannerists, too, as the poetasters who ring changes on the commonplaces of magazine versification; and all the difference between them is that they borrow their phrases from a different and a scantier _gradus ad parnassum_. if they were, indeed, to discard all imitation and set phraseology, and bring in no words merely for show or for metre,--as much, perhaps, might be gained in freedom and originality, as would infallibly be lost in allusion and authority; but, in point of fact, the new poets are just as much borrowers as the old; only that, instead of borrowing from the more popular passages of their illustrious predecessors, they have preferred furnishing themselves from vulgar ballads and plebian nurseries. their peculiarities of diction alone, are enough, perhaps, to render them ridiculous; but the author before us really seems anxious to court this literary martyrdom by a device still more infallible,--we mean that of connecting his most lofty, tender, or impassioned conceptions, with objects and incidents which the greater part of his readers will probably persist in thinking low, silly, or uninteresting. whether this is done from affectation and conceit alone, or whether it may not arise, in some measure, from the self-illusion of a mind of extraordinary sensibility, habituated to solitary meditation, we cannot undertake to determine. it is possible enough, we allow, that the sights of a friend's garden-spade, of a sparrow's-nest, or a man gathering leeches, might really have suggested to such a mind a train of powerful impressions and interesting reflections; but it is certain, that, to most minds, such associations will always appear forced, strained, and unnatural; and that the composition in which it is attempted to exhibit them, will always have the air of parody, or ludicrous and affected singularity. all the world laughs at eligiac stanzas to a sucking pig--a hymn on washing-day, sonnets to one's grandmother--or pindarics on gooseberry-pie; and yet, we are afraid, it will not be quite easy to persuade mr. wordsworth, that the same ridicule must infallibly attach to most of the pathetic pieces in these volumes. to satisfy our readers, however, as to the justice of this and our other anticipations, we shall proceed without further preface, to lay before them a short view of their contents. the first is a kind of ode "to the daisy,--" very flat, feeble, and affected; and in diction as artificial, and as much encumbered with heavy expletives as the theme of an unpractised schoolboy.... the scope of the piece is to say, that the flower is found everywhere; and that it has suggested many pleasant thoughts to the author--some chime of fancy, "_wrong or right_"--some feeling of devotion _more or less_--and other elegancies of the same stamp.... the next is called "louisa," and begins in this dashing and affected manner. i met louisa in the shade; and, having seen that lovely maid, _why should i fear to say_ that she is ruddy, fleet and strong; _and down the rocks can leap along_, like rivulets in may? i. . does mr. wordsworth really imagine that this is more natural or engaging than the ditties of our common song-writers?... by and by, we have a piece of namby-pamby "to the small celandine," which we should almost have taken for a professed imitation of one of mr. phillips's prettyisms.... further on, we find an "ode to duty," in which the lofty vein is very unsuccessfully attempted. this is the concluding stanza. stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear the godhead's most benignant grace; nor know we anything so fair as is the smile upon thy face; flowers laugh before thee on their beds; and fragrance in thy footing treads; thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; and the most ancient heavens through thee are fresh and strong. i. . the two last lines seem to be utterly without meaning; at least we have no sort of conception in what sense _duty_ can be said to keep the old skies _fresh_, and the stars from wrong. the next piece, entitled "the beggars," may be taken, in fancy, as a touchstone of mr. wordsworth's merit. there is something about it that convinces us it is a favourite of the author's; though to us, we will confess, it appears to be a very paragon of silliness and affectation.... "alice fell" is a performance of the same order.... if the printing of such trash as this be not felt as an insult on the public taste, we are afraid it cannot be insulted. after this follows the longest and most elaborate poem in the volume, under the title of "resolution and independence." the poet roving about on a common one fine morning, falls into pensive musings on the fate of the sons of song, which he sums up in this fine distich. we poets in our youth begin in gladness; but thereof comes in the end despondency and madness. i, p. . in the midst of his meditations-- i saw a man before me unawares, the oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.... the very interesting account, which he is lucky enough at last to comprehend, fills the poet with comfort and admiration; and, quite glad to find the old man so cheerful, he resolves to take a lesson of contentedness from him; and the poem ends with this pious ejaculation-- "god," said i, "be my help and stay secure; i'll think of the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor." i, p. . we defy the bitterest enemy of mr. wordsworth to produce anything at all parallel to this from any collection of english poetry, or even from the specimens of his friend mr. southey.... the first poems in the second volume were written during a tour in scotland. the first is a very dull one about rob roy, but the title that attracted us most was "an address to the sons of burns," after visiting their father's grave. never was anything, however, more miserable.... the next is a very tedious, affected performance, called "the yarrow unvisited." ... after this we come to some ineffable compositions, which the poet has entitled, "moods of my own mind." ... we have then a rapturous mystical ode to the cuckoo; in which the author, striving after force and originality, produces nothing but absurdity ... after this there is an address to a butterfly.... we come next to a long story of a "blind highland boy," who lived near an arm of the sea, and had taken a most unnatural desire to venture on that perilous element. his mother did all she could to prevent him; but one morning, when the good woman was out of the way, he got into a vessel of his own, and pushed out from the shore. in such a vessel ne'er before did human creature leave the shore. ii, p. . and then we are told, that if the sea should get rough, "a beehive would be ship as safe." "but say, what was it?" a poetical interlocutor is made to exclaim most naturally; and here followeth the answer, upon which all the pathos and interest of the story depend. a household tub, like one of those which women use to wash their clothes!! ii, p. . this, it will be admitted, is carrying the matter as far as it will go; nor is there anything,--down to the wiping of shoes or the evisceration of chickens, which may not be introduced in poetry, if this is tolerated.... afterwards come some stanzas about an echo repeating a cuckoo's voice.... then we have elegiac stanzas "to the spade of a friend," beginning-- spade! with which wilkinson hath till'd his lands. but too dull to be quoted any further. after this there is a minstrel's song, on the restoration of lord clifford the shepherd, which is in a very different strain of poetry; and then the volume is wound up with an "ode," with no other title but the motto _paulo majora canamus_. this is, beyond all doubt, the most illegible and unintelligible part of the publication. we can pretend to no analysis or explanation of it.... we have thus gone through this publication, with a view to enable our readers to determine, whether the author of these verses which have now been exhibited, is entitled to claim the honours of an improver or restorer of our poetry, and to found a new school to supersede or new-model all our maxims on the subject. if we were to stop here, we do not think that mr. wordsworth, or his admirers, would have any reason to complain; for what we have now quoted is undeniably the most peculiar and characteristic part of his publication, and must be defended and applauded if the merit or originality of his system is to be seriously maintained. in our opinion, however, the demerit of that system cannot be fairly appreciated, until it be shown, that the author of the bad verses which we have already extracted, can write good verses when he pleases; and that, in point of fact, he does always write good verses, when, by any account, he is led to abandon his system, and to transgress the laws of that school which he would fain establish on the ruin of all existing authority. the length to which our extracts and observations have already extended, necessarily restrains us within more narrow limits in this part of our citations; but it will not require much labour to find a pretty decided contrast to some of the passages we have already detailed. the song on the restoration of lord clifford is put into the mouth of an ancient minstrel of the family; and in composing it, the author was led, therefore, almost irresistibly to adopt the manner and phraseology that is understood to be connected with that sort of composition, and to throw aside his own babyish incidents and fantastical sensibilities.... all english writers of sonnets have imitated milton; and, in this way, mr. wordsworth, when he writes sonnets, escapes again from the trammels of his own unfortunate system; and the consequence is, that his sonnets are as much superior to the greater part of his other poems, as milton's sonnets are superior to his.... when we look at these, and many still finer passages, in the writings of this author, it is impossible not to feel a mixture of indignation and compassion, at that strange infatuation which has bound him up from the fair exercise of his talents, and withheld from the public the many excellent productions that would otherwise have taken the place of the trash now before us. even in the worst of these productions, there are, no doubt, occasional little traits of delicate feeling and original fancy; but these are quite lost and obscured in the mass of childishness and insipidity with which they are incorporated, nor can anything give us a more melancholy view of the debasing effects of this miserable theory, than that it has given ordinary men a right to wonder at the folly and presumption of a man gifted like mr. wordsworth, and made him appear, in his second avowed publication, like a bad imitator of the worst of his former productions. we venture to hope, that there is now an end of this folly; and that, like other follies, it will be found to have cured itself by the extravagances resulting from its unbridled indulgence. in this point of view, the publication of the volumes before us may ultimately be of service to the good cause of literature. many a generous rebel, it is said, has been reclaimed to his allegiance by the spectacle of lawless outrage and excess presented in the conduct of the insurgents; and we think there is every reason to hope, that the lamentable consequences which have resulted from mr. wordsworth's open violation of the established laws of poetry, will operate as a wholesome warning to those who might otherwise have been seduced by his example, and be the means of restoring to that antient and venerable code its due honour and authority. on maturin's "melmoth" [from _the edinburgh review_, july, ] _melmoth, the wanderer_. vols. by the author of _bertram_. constable & co. edinburgh, . it was said, we remember, of dr. darwin's botanic garden--that it was the sacrifice of genius in the temple of false taste; and the remark may be applied to the work before us, with the qualifying clause, that in this instance the genius is less obvious, and the false taste more glaring. no writer of good judgment would have attempted to revive the defunct horrors of mrs. radcliffe's school of romance, or the demoniacal incarnations of mr. lewis: but, as if he were determined not to be arraigned for a single error only, mr. maturin has contrived to render his production almost as objectionable in the manner as it is in the matter. the construction of his story, which is singularly clumsy and inartificial, we have no intention to analyze:--many will probably have perused the work, before our review reaches them; and to those who have not, it may be sufficient to announce, that the imagination of the author runs riot, even beyond the usual license of romance;--that his hero is a modern faustus, who has bartered his soul with the powers of darkness for protracted life, and unlimited worldly enjoyment;--his heroine, a species of insular goddess, a virgin calypso of the indian ocean, who, amid flowers and foliage, lives upon figs and tamarinds; associates with peacocks, loxias and monkeys; is worshipped by the occasional visitants of her island; finds her way to spain, where she is married to the aforesaid hero by the hand of a dead hermit, the ghost of a murdered domestic being the witness of their nuptials; and finally dies in the dungeons of the inquisition at madrid!--to complete this phantasmagoric exhibition, we are presented with sybils and misers; parricides; maniacs in abundance; monks with scourges pursuing a naked youth streaming with blood; subterranean jews surrounded by the skeletons of their wives and children; lovers blasted by lightning; irish hags, spanish grandees, shipwrecks, caverns, donna claras and donna isidoras, all opposed to each other in glaring and violent contrast, and all their adventures narrated with the same undeviating display of turgid, vehement, and painfully elaborated language. such are the materials, and the style of this expanded nightmare: and as we can plainly perceive, among a certain class of writers, a disposition to haunt us with similar apparitions, and to describe them with a corresponding tumor of words, we conceive it high time to step forward and abate a nuisance which threatens to become a besetting evil, unless checked in its outset. political changes were not the sole cause of the rapid degeneracy in letters that followed the augustan era of rome. similar corruptions and decay have succeeded to the intellectual eminence of other nations; and we might be almost led to conclude, that mental as well as physical power, after attaining a certain perfection, became weakened by expansion, and sunk into a state of comparative imbecility, until time and circumstance gave it a new progressive impetus. one great cause of this deterioration is the insatiable thirst for novelty, which, becoming weary even of excellence, will "sate itself in a celestial bed, and prey on garbage." in the torpidity produced by an utter exhaustion of sensual enjoyment, the arreoi club of otaheite is recorded to have found a miserable excitement, by swallowing the most revolting filth; and the jaded intellectual appetites of more civilized communities will sometimes seek a new stimulus in changes almost as startling. some adventurous writer, unable to obtain distinction among a host of competitors, all better qualified than himself to win legitimate applause, strikes out a fantastic or monstrous innovation; and arrests the attention of many who would fall asleep over monotonous excellence. imitators are soon found;--fashion adopts the new folly;--the old standard of perfection is deemed stale and obsolete;--and thus, by degrees, the whole literature of a country becomes changed and deteriorated. it appears to us, that we are now labouring in a crisis of this nature. in our last number, we noticed the revolution in our poetry; the transition from the lucid terseness and exquisite polish of pope and goldsmith, to the rambling, diffuse, irregular, and imaginative style of composition by which the present era is characterized; and we might have added, that a change equally complete, though diametrically opposite in its tendency, has been silently introduced into our prose. in this we have oscillated from freedom to restraint;--from the easy, natural, and colloquial style of swift, addison and steele, to the perpetually strained, ambitious, and overwrought stiffness, of which the author we are now considering affords a striking exemplification. "he's knight o' the shire, and represents them all." there is not the smallest keeping in his composition:--less solicitous what he shall say, than how he shall say it, he exhausts himself in a continual struggle to produce effect by dazzling, terrifying, or surprising. annibal caracci was accused of an affectation of muscularity, and an undue parade of anatomical knowledge, even upon quiescent figures: but the artist whom we are now considering has no quiescent figures:--even his repose is a state of rigid tension, if not extravagant distortion. he is the fuseli of novelists. does he deem it necessary to be energetic, he forthwith begins foaming at the mouth, and falling into convulsions; and this orgasm is so often repeated, and upon such inadequate occasions, that we are perpetually reminded of the tremendous puerilities of the della cruscan versifiers, or the ludicrous grand eloquence of the spaniard, who tore a certain portion of his attire, "as if heaven and earth were coming together." in straining to reach the sublime, he perpetually takes that single unfortunate step which conducts him to the ridiculous --a failure which, in a less gifted author, might afford a wicked amusement to the critic, but which, when united with such undoubted genius as the present work exhibits, must excite a sincere and painful regret in every admirer of talent. whatever be the cause, the fact, we think, cannot be disputed, that a peculiar tendency to this gaudy and ornate style, exists among the writers of ireland. their genius runs riot in the wantonness of its own uncontrolled exuberance;--their imagination, disdaining the restraint of judgment, imparts to their literature the characteristics of a nation in one of the earlier stages of civilization and refinement. the florid imagery, gorgeous diction, and oriental hyperboles, which possess a sort of wild propriety in the vehement sallies of antar the bedoween chieftain of the twelfth century, become cold extravagance and floundering fustian in the mouth of a barrister of the present age; and we question whether any but a native of the sister island would have ventured upon the experiment of their adoption. even in the productions of mr. moore, the sweetest lyric poet of this or perhaps any age, this national peculiarity is not infrequently perceptible; and we were compelled, in our review of his lalla rookh, a subject which justified the introduction of much eastern splendour and elaboration, to point out the excessive finery, the incessant sparkle and efflorescence by which the attention of the reader was fatigued, and his senses overcome. he rouged his roses, and poured perfume upon his jessamines, until we fainted under the oppression of beauty and odour, and were ready to "die of a rose in aromatic pain." dryden, in alluding to the metaphysical poets, exclaims "rather than all things wit, let none be there":--though we would not literally adopt this dictum, we can safely confirm the truth of the succeeding lines-- men doubt, because so thick they lie, if those be stars that paint the galaxy:-- and we scruple not to avow, whatever contempt may be expressed for our taste by the advocates of the toiling and turgid style, both in and out of ireland, that the prose works which we have lately perused with the greatest pleasure, so far as their composition was concerned, have been belzoni's travels, and salame's account of the attack upon algiers. unable, from their insufficient mastery of our tongue, to rival the native manufacture of stiff and laborious verbosity, these foreigners have contented themselves with the plainest and most colloquial language that was consistent with a clear exposition of their meaning;--a practice to which swift was indebted for the lucid and perspicuous character of his writings, and which alone has enabled a great living purveyor of "twopenny trash" to retain a certain portion of popularity, in spite of his utter abandonment of all consistency and public principle. if the writers to whom we are alluding will not condescend to this unstudied and familiar mode of communing with the public, let them at least have the art to conceal their art, and not obtrude the conviction that they are more anxious to display themselves than inform their readers; and let them, above all things, consent to be intelligible to the plainest capacity; for though speech, according to the averment of a wily frenchman, was given to us to conceal our thoughts, no one has yet ventured to extend the same mystifying definition to the art of writing ... after this, let us no longer smile at the furious hyperboles of della crusca upon mrs. robinson's eyes. in the same strain we are told of a convent whose "walls sweat, and its floors quiver," when a contumacious brother treads them;--and when the parents of the same personage are torn from his room by the director of the convent, we are informed that "the rushing of their robes as he dragged them out, seemed like the whirlwind that attends the presence of the destroying angel." in a similar spirit, of pushing every thing to extremes when he means to be impressive, the author is sometimes offensively minute; as when he makes the aforesaid persecuted monk declare, that "the cook had learned the secret of the convent (that of tormenting those whom they had no longer hopes of commanding), and mixed the fragments he threw to me with ashes, hair, and dust;"--and sometimes the extravagance of his phrases becomes simply ludicrous. two persons are trying to turn a key--"it grated, resisted; the lock seemed invincible. again we tried with cranched teeth, indrawn breath, and fingers stripped almost to the bone--in vain." and yet, after they had almost stripped their fingers to the bone, they succeed in turning that which they could not move when their hands were entire. we have said that mr. maturin had contrived to render his work as objectionable in the matter as in the manner; and we proceed to the confirmation of our assertion. we do not arraign him solely for the occasional indecorousness of his conceptions, or the more offensive tone of some of his colloquies, attempted to be palliated by the flimsy plea, that they are, appropriate in the mouths that utter them. dr. johnson, as a proof of the total suppression of the reasoning faculty in dreams, used to cite one of his own, wherein he imagined himself to be holding an argument with an adversary, whose superior powers filled him with a mortification which a moment's reflection would have dissipated, by reminding him that he himself supplied the repartees of his opponent as well as his own. in his waking dreams, mr. maturin is equally the parent of all the parties who figure in his romance; and, though not personally responsible for their sentiments, he is amenable to the bar of criticism for every phrase or thought which transgresses the bounds of decorum, or violates the laws that regulate the habitual intercourse of polished society. it is no defence to say, that profane or gross language is natural to the characters whom he embodies. why does he select such? it may be proper in them; but what can make it proper to us? there are wretches who never open their lips but to blaspheme; but would any author think himself justified in filling his page with their abominations? it betrays a lamentable deficiency of tact and judgment, to imagine, as the author of melmoth appears to do, that he may seize upon nature in her most unhallowed or disgusting moods, and dangle her in the eyes of a decorous and civilized community. we shall not stop to stigmatize, as it deserves, the wild and flagrant calumnies which he insinuates against three-fourths of his countrymen, by raking in the long-forgotten rubbish of popery for extinct enormities, which he exaggerates as the inevitable result, rather than the casual abuse of the system, and brands with an intolerant zeal, quite as uncharitable as that which he condemns. these faults are either so peculiar to the individual, or in their nature so obviously indefensible, as to repel rather than invite imitation. but there is another peculiarity in the productions of this gentleman which claims a more detailed notice, because it seems likely to have extensive effects in corrupting others: --we mean his taste for horrible and revolting subjects. we thought we had supped full of this commodity; but it seems as if the most ghastly and disgusting portion of the meal was reserved for the present day, and its most hideous concoction for the writer before us,--who is never so much in his favourite element as when he can "on horror's head horrors accumulate." he assimilates the sluggish sympathies of his readers to those of sailors and vulgar ballad readers, who cannot be excited to an interest in the battle of the arethusa, unless they learn that "her sails smoaked with brains, and her scuppers ran blood;"--a line which threatens him with formidable competitors from before the mast. mere physical horror, unalleviated by an intense mental interest, or redeeming charities of the heart, may possess a certain air of originality, not from the want of ability in former writers to delineate such scenes, but from then-deference to the "_multaque tolles ex oculis_" of horace; from the conviction of their utter unfitness for public exhibition. there is, however, a numerous class of inferior caterers to the public, ready to minister to any appetite, however foul and depraved, if they be once furnished with a precedent; and we foresee an inundation of blood and abomination if they be not awed or ridiculed into silence. we have quietly submitted to these inflictions from two or three distinguished writers, whose talents may extenuate, though they cannot justify, such outrages upon feeling. when regular artists and professors conduct us into their dissecting room, the skill with which they anatomise may reconcile us to the offensiveness of the operation; but if butchers and resurrection-men are to drag us into their shambles, while they mangle human carcases with their clumsy and unhallowed hands, the stoutest spectators must turn from the exhibition with sickness and disgust. were any proof wanting that this golgotha style of writing is likely to become contagious, and to be pushed to a more harrowing extravagance at each successive imitation, mr. maturin would himself supply it.... we have omitted this miscreant's flippant allusion to madame de sevigné and his own damnation, uttered in a spirit which (to use the author's own words upon another occasion), "mingled ridicule with horror, and seemed like a harlequin in the infernal regions flirting with the furies:"--but we must not forget to mention, as little characteristic touches in this scene of preposterous horrors, that the monster who describes it was also a parricide, and that the female, on whose dying agonies he had feasted, was his only sister! after this appalling extract, we need not pursue our quotations from pages which, as more than one of the personages say of themselves, seem to swim in blood and fire; and we shall conclude with the following passage from a dream-- the next moment i was chained to my chair again,--the fires were lit, the bells rang out, the litanies were sung;--my feet were scorched to a cinder,--my muscles cracked, my blood and marrow hissed, my flesh consumed like shrinking leather,--the bones of my leg hung two black withering and moveless sticks in the ascending blaze;--it ascended, caught my hair,--i was crowned with fire,--my head was a ball of molten metal, my eyes flashed and melted in their sockets:--i opened my mouth, it drank fire,--i closed it, the fire was within,--and still the bells rang on, and the crowd shouted, and the king and queen, and all the nobility and priesthood looked on, and we burned and burned! i was a cinder, body and soul, in my dream. ii. . these, and other scenes equally wild and abominable, luckily counteract themselves;--they present such a fee-fa-fum for grown up people, such a burlesque upon tragic horrors, that a sense of the ludicrous irresistibly predominates over the terrific; and, to avoid disgust, our feelings gladly take refuge in contemptuous laughter. pathos like this may affect women, and people of weak nerves, with sickness at the stomach;--it may move those of stouter fibre to scornful derision; but we doubt whether, in the whole extensive circle of novel readers, it has ever drawn a single tear. the society for the suppression of mendicity has fortunately cleared our streets of the offensive vagrants who used to thrust their mangled limbs and putrid sores into our faces to extort from our disgust what they could not wring from our compassion:--be it _our_ care to suppress those greater nuisances who, infesting the high ways of literature, would attempt, by a still more revolting exhibition, to terrify or nauseate us out of those sympathies which they might not have the power to awaken by any legitimate appeal. let it not be imagined, from any thing we have now said, that we think meanly of mr. maturin's genius and abilities. it is precisely because we hold both in respect that we are sincerely anxious to point out their misapplication; and we have extended our observations to a greater length than we contemplated, partly because we fear that his strong though unregulated imagination, and unlimited command of glowing language, may inflict upon us a herd of imitators who, "possessing the contortions of the sybil without her inspiration," will deluge us with dull, turgid, and disgusting enormities;--and partly because we are not without hopes that our animadversions, offered in a spirit of sincerity, may induce the author himself to abandon this new apotheosis of the old raw-head-and-bloody-bones, and assume a station in literature more consonant to his high endowments, and to that sacred profession to which, we understand, he does honour by the virtues of his private life. the quarterly review if macaulay represents a new _edinburgh_ from the days of jeffrey, brougham, and sydney smith, the variety of criticism embraced by the _quarterly_ is even more startling. there was more malice, and far coarser personalities in the early days, and almost continuously while gifford, croker, and lockhart held the reins: it is--almost certainly-- among these three that the responsibility for our "anonymous" group of onslaughts may be distributed. the two earliest appreciations of jane austen (from scott and whately) offer an interlude--actually in the same period--which positively startles us by the honesty of its attempt at fair criticism and the entire freedom from personality. gladstone's interesting recognition of tennyson, and the "church in arms" against darwin (so ably pleaded by wilberforce), belong to yet another school of criticism which comes much nearer to our day, though retaining the solemnity, the prolixity, and the _ex cathedra_ assumption of authority with which all the reviews began their career; and is singularly cautious in its independence. william gifford ( - ) gifford was the editor of the _quarterly_ from its foundation in february, , until september, , and undoubtedly established its reputation for scurrility. it is probable that more reviews were written, or directly inspired, by him than have been actually traced to his pen; and, in any case, as leigh hunt puts it, he made it his business to see that others misdeem and miscontrue, like miscreant brothers; misquote, and misplace, and mislead, and misstate, misapply, misinterpret, misreckon, misdate, missinform, misconjecture, misargue, in short miss all that is good, that ye miss not the court. gifford was hated even more than his associates; not only, we fear, for his venal sycophancy, but because he had been apprenticed to a shoemaker and never concealed the lowness of his origin. moreover, "the little man, dumpled up together and so ill-made as to seem almost deformed," received from fortune-- one eye not overgood, two sides that to their cost have stood a ten years' hectic cough, aches, stitches, all the various ills that swell the devilish doctor's bills, and sweep poor mortals off. scott is almost alone in his generosity towards the learning and industry of an editor who helped to make infamous the title of critic. his original poems (_the baviad_ and _the moeviad_) have a certain sledge-hammer merit; and he did yeoman service by suppressing the _della cruscans_. it was gifford also "who did the butchering business in the anti-jacobin." he was far heavier, in bludgeoning, than jeffrey; while hazlitt epitomized his principles of criticism with his accustomed vigour:--"he believes that modern literature should wear the fetters of classical antiquity; that truth is to be weighed in the scales of opinion and prejudice; that power is equivalent to right; that genius is dependent on rules; that taste and refinement of language consist in _word-catching_." * * * * * gifford's review of _ford's weber_ is, perhaps, no more than can be expected of the man who had edited _massinger_ six years before he wrote it; and produced a _ben jonson_ in and a _ford_ in . of these works thomas moore exclaimed "what a canker'd carle it is! strange that a man should be able to lash himself up into such a spiteful fury, not only against the living but the dead, with whom he engages in a sort of _sciomachy_ in every page. poor dull and dead malone is the shadow at which he thrusts his 'jonson,' as he did at poor monck mason, still duller and deader, in his _massinger_." mr. a.h. bullen, again, remarks of his ford, "gifford was so intent on denouncing the inaccuracy of others that he frequently failed to secure accuracy himself.... in reading the old dramatists we do not want to be distracted by editorial invectives and diatribes." the review of _endymion_ called forth byron's famous apostrophe to-- john keats, who was killed off by one critique just as he really promised something great, if not intelligible, without greek contrived to talk about the gods of late much as they might have been supposed to speak. poor fellow! his was an untoward fate; 'tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, should let itself be snuff'd out by one article. it is but just to say, however, that the _blackwood_ review of the same poem, printed below, was scarcely less virulent; and later critics have scouted the notion of the poet not having more strength of mind than he is credited with by byron. it is strange to notice that de quincey found in _endymion_ "the very midsummer madness of affectation, of false vapoury sentiment, and of fantastic effeminacy"; while one is ashamed for the timidity of the publisher who chose to return all unsold copies to george keats because of "the ridicule which has, time after time, been showered upon it." john wilson croker ( - ) croker was certainly unfortunate in his enemies, though they have given him immortality. the contemptible rigby in disraeli's _coningsby_ (admittedly drawn from him) is scarcely more damaging to his reputation than the sound, if prejudiced, onslaught of macaulay's review, of which we find echoes, after twelve years, in the same essayist's madame d'arblay. dr. hill tells us that he "added considerably to our knowledge of johnson," yet he was a thoroughly bad editor and had no real sympathy with either the subject or the author of that incomparable "life": through his essentially low mind. he was not a scholar, and he was inaccurate. croker was intimately associated with the _quarterly_ from its foundation until , retaining his bitterness and spite to the year of his death. but he was a born fighter, and never happier than in the heat of controversy. that he secured the friendship of scott, peel, and wellington must go to prove that his political, and literary prejudices, had not destroyed altogether his private character. he is credited with being the first writer to use the word "conservatives" in the _quarterly_, january, . he was a member of the irish bar, m.p. for dublin, acting chief secretary for ireland, secretary of the admiralty (where his best work was accomplished), and a privy councillor. * * * * * the veiled sarcasm of his attack on _sydney smith_ was only to be expected from a tory reviewer, and was probably inflamed by that heated loyalty to the church which characterised his paper. _macaulay_ had certainly provoked his retaliation, and we may notice here the same eager partisanship of church and state, pervading even his personal malice. john gibson lockhart ( - ) it is to be regretted that lockhart, who is so honourably remembered by his great _life of scott_, his "fine and animated translation" of spanish ballads, and his neglected--but powerful--_adam blair_, should be so intimately associated with the black record of the _quarterly_. he was also a contributor to _blackwood_ from october, , succeeding gifford in the editorial chair of mr. murray's review in until . but lockhart was "more than a satirist and a snarler." his polished jibes were more mischievous than brutal. "this reticent, sensitive, attractive, yet dangerous youth ... slew his victims mostly by the midnight oil, not by any blaze of gaiety, or in the accumulative fervour of social sarcasm. from him came most of those sharp things which the victims could not forget.... lockhart put in his sting in a moment, inveterate, instantaneous, with the effect of a barbed dart, yet almost, as it seemed, with the mere intention of giving point to his sentences, and no particular feeling at all." carlyle describes him as "a precise, brief, active person of considerable faculty, which however, had shaped itself _gigmanically_ only. fond of quizzing, yet not _very_ maliciously. has a broad, black brow, indicating force and penetration, but the lower half of the face diminishing into the character at best of distinctness, almost of triviality." * * * * * there is certainly a good deal of perversity about the _abuse_ of vathek, so startlingly combined with almost immoderate eulogy: to which the discriminating enthusiasm of his coleridge affords a pleasing contrast. it should be noticed that lockhart has also been credited with the bitter critical part of the _jane eyre_ review, printed below--of which any man ought to have been ashamed--as miss rigby (afterwards lady eastlake) is believed to have written "the part about the governess." he probably had a hand in the blackwood series on "the cockney school of poetry" (see below); and, in some ways, those reviews are more characteristic. sir walter scott ( - ) it would be out of place here to enter upon any biography or criticism of the author of _waverley_, or for that matter of jane austen. it is sufficient to notice that scott has found something generous to say (in diaries, letters, or formal criticism) on every writer he had occasion to mention, and that in his somewhat neglected, but frequently quoted, _lives of the novelists_, a striking pre-eminence was given to women; particularly mrs. radcliffe and clara reeve. indeed, the essay on mrs. radcliffe, a "very novel and rather heretical revelation" is "probably the best in the whole set." we remember, too, the famous passage in his _general preface to the waverley novels_:--"without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness and admirable tact of my accomplished friend, i felt that something might be attempted for my own country, of the same kind with that which miss edgeworth so fortunately achieved for ireland";--an ambition of which the modesty only equals the success achieved. in "appreciating" jane austen, indeed, scott is far more cautious, if not apologetic, than any critic of to-day would dream of being; but, when we remember the prejudices then existing against women writers (despite the popularity of madame d'arblay) and the well-nigh universal neglect accorded the author of _pride and prejudice_, we should perhaps rather marvel at the independent sincerity of his pronounced praise. the article, at any rate, has historic significance, as the first serious recognition of her immortal work. richard whately ( - ) the "dogmatical and crotchety" archbishop of dublin was looked at askance by the extreme evangelicals of his day (though thomas arnold has eulogised his holiness), and there is no doubt that his theology, however able and sincere, was mainly inspired by the "daylight of ordinary reason and of historical fact," opposed to the dogmas of tradition. he combated sceptical criticism by an ingenious parody entitled "historical doubts relative to napoleon buonaparte," and his epigram on the majority of preachers--that "they aim at nothing and they hit it," proves his freedom from any touch of sacerdotalism. his "rhetoric," his "logic," and his "political economy" were praised by so eminent a judge as john stuart mill, though criticised by hamilton; and lecky remarks on the "admirable lucidity of his style." his work, however, was as a whole too fragmentary to become standard, and he regarded it himself as "the mission of his life to make up cartridges for others to fire." * * * * * we may notice that in writing of _jane austen_, only six years after scott, though still measured and judicial, he permits himself a much more assured attitude of applause; and the article affords most valuable indication of the steady progress by which her masterpieces achieved the supremacy now acknowledged by all. william ewart gladstone ( - ) it would be no less impertinent, and unnecessary, to dwell in these pages upon the political, or literary, work of the greatest of modern premiers. it is sufficient to recall the certainty which used to follow a notice by gladstone of a large and immediate rise in sales. mr. john morley remarking that gladstone's "place is not in literary or critical history, but elsewhere," reminds us that his style was sometimes called johnsonian, though without good ground.... some critics charged him in with "prolix clearness." "the old charge," says mr. gladstone upon this, was obscure compression. i do not doubt that both may be true, and the former may have been the result of a well-meant effort to escape from the latter. * * * * * mr. morley, again, selects the essay on tennyson for especial praise. though one is apt to forget it, the laureate did not meet with anything like immediate recognition; and, though coming twenty-eight years after the appreciation by j.s. mill, this article does not assume the supremacy afterwards accorded the poet by common consent. samuel wilberforce ( - ) "one of the most conspicuous and remarkable figures" of his generation the versatile bishop of oxford is said to have come "next to gladstone as a man of inexhaustible powers of work." known from his oxford days as soapy sam, he was involved through no fault of his own, in some of the odium attached to the "essays and reviews" and "colenso" cases: his private life was embittered by the secession to rome of his two brothers, his brother-in-law, his only daughter, and his son-in-law. "he was an unwearied ecclesiastical politician, always involved in discussions and controversies, sometimes, it was thought, in intrigues; without whom nothing was done in convocation, nor, where church interests were involved, in the house of lords." the energy with which he governed his diocese for twenty-four years earned for him the title of "romodeller [transcriber's note: sic] of the episcopate." * * * * * the attempt, by a man whose "relaxations" were botany and ornithology, but who had no claims to be called an expert, to defeat darwin on his own ground--and the dignified horror of a churchman at some deductions from evolution--is eminently characteristic of the period. the earnest criticism of newman's conversion to rome concerns one of the most striking events of his generation, and illustrates the "church" attitude on such questions. anonymous we have hinted already that the responsibility for this group of ill-mannered recriminations may probably be distributed between gifford, croker, and lockhart. it is curious to notice that the second attack on scott appeared after his admission to the ranks of contributors; and the author of _waverley_ is perhaps the one man said to have friends both on the _edinburgh_ and the _quarterly_. that on leigh hunt, always the pet topic of toryism, from whom he certainly provoked some retaliation, is only paralleled in _blackwood_. we have included the _shakespeare_ and the _moxon_ as attractively brief samples on the approved model of savage banter, and the _jane eyre_ as perhaps the most flagrant example of bad taste to be found in these merciless pages. it was george henry lewis, by the way, who so much offended charlotte brontë by the greeting, "there ought to be a bond between us, for we have both written naughty books." it is interesting to find thackeray among those it was permitted to praise: though the "moral" objection to his "realism" reveals a strange attitude. we may notice, with some surprise, that the attitude towards george eliot is nearly as hostile as towards charlotte brontë. gifford on weber's "ford" [from _the quarterly review_, december, ] ... when it is determined to reprint the writings of an ancient author, it is usual, we believe, to bestow a little labour in gratifying the natural desire of the reader to know something of his domestic circumstances. ford had declared in the title-pages of his several plays, that he was of the inner temple; and, from his entry there, mr. malone, following up the inquiry, discovered that he was the second son of thomas ford, esq., and that he was baptized at ilsington, in devonshire, the th of april, . to this information mr. weber has added nothing; and he hopes that the meagreness of his biographical account will be readily excused by the reader who has examined the lives of his (ford's) dramatical contemporaries, in which we are continually "led to lament that our knowledge respecting them amounts to little better than nothing." it would surely be unjust to appear dissatisfied at the imperfect account of an ancient author, when all the sources of information have been industriously explored. but, in the present case, we doubt whether mr. weber can safely "lay this flattering unction to his soul"; and we shall therefore give such a sketch of the poet's life, as an attentive examination of his writings has enabled us to compile.... reversing the observation of dryden on shakespeare, it may be said of ford that "he wrote laboriously, not luckily": always elegant, often elevated, never sublime, he accomplished by patient and careful industry what shakespeare and fletcher produced by the spontaneous exuberance of native genius. he seems to have acquired early in life, and to have retained to the last a softness of versification peculiar to himself. without the majestic march of verse which distinguishes the poetry of massinger, and with none of that playful gaiety which characterises the dialogue of fletcher, he is still easy and harmonious. there is, however, a monotony in his poetry, which those who have perused his scenes long together must have inevitably perceived. his dialogue is declamatory and formal, and wants that quick chace of replication and rejoinder so necessary to effect in representation. if we could put out of our remembrance the singular merits of "the lady's trial," we should consider the genius of ford as altogether inclined to tragedy; and even there so large a proportion of the pathetic pervades the drama, that it requires the "humours" of guzman and fulgoso, in addition to a happy catastrophe, to warrant the name of comedy. in the plots of his tragedies ford is far from judicious; they are for the most part too full of the horrible, and he seems to have had recourse to an accumulation of terrific incidents, to obtain that effect which he despairs of producing by pathos of language. another defect in ford's poetry, proceeding from the same source, is the alloy of pedantry which pervades his scenes, at one time exhibited in the composition of uncouth phrases, at another in perplexity of language; and he frequently labours with a remote idea, which, rather than throw it away, he obtrudes upon his reader, involved in inextricable obscurity. we cannot agree with the editor in praising his delineation of the female character: less than women in their passions, they are more than masculine in their exploits and sufferings; but, excepting spinella in "the lady's trial," and perhaps penthea, we do not remember in ford's plays, any example of that meekness and modesty which compose the charm of the female character.... mr. weber is known to the admirers of our antient literature by two publications which, although they may not be deemed of great importance in themselves, have yet a fair claim to notice. we speak of the battle of flodden field, and the romances of the fourteenth century: which, as far as we have looked into them, appear very creditable to his industry and accuracy: his good genius, we sincerely regret to say, appears in a great measure to have forsaken him from the moment that he entered upon the task of editing a dramatic poet. in the mechanical construction of his work mr. weber has followed the last edition of massinger, with a servility which appears, in his mind, to have obviated all necessity of acknowledging the obligation: we will not stop to enquire whether he might not have found a better model; but proceed to the body of the work. as we feel a warm interest in everything which regards our ancient literature, on the sober cultivation of which the purity, copiousness, and even harmony of the english language must, in no small degree, depend, we shall notice some of the peculiarities of the volumes before us, in the earnest hope that while we relieve ford from a few of the errors and misrepresentations with which he is here encumbered, we may convince mr. weber that something more is necessary to a faithful editor than the copying of printers' blunders, and to a judicious commentator, than a blind confidence in the notes of every collection of old plays. mr. weber's attempts at explanation (for explanations it seems, there must be) are sometimes sufficiently humble. "carriage," he tells us, "is behaviour." it is so; we remember it in our spelling-book, among the words of three syllables, we have therefore no doubt of it. but you must have, rejoins the editor; and accordingly, in every third or fourth page, he persists in affirming that "carriage is behaviour." in the same strain of thankless kindness, he assures us that "fond is foolish," "but, except," "content, contentment," and _vice versa_, "period [transcriber's note: 'peroid' in original], end," "demur, delay," "ever, always," "sudden, quickly," "quick, suddenly," and so on through a long vocabulary of words of which a girl of six years old would blush to ask the meaning.... the confidence which mr. weber reposes in steevens, not only on one but on every occasion, is quite exemplary: the name alone operates as a charm, and supersedes all necessity of examining into the truth of his assertions; and he gently reminds those who occasionally venture to question it, that "they are ignorant and superficial critics." vol. ii, p. .--"i have seen summer go up and down with _hot codlings!_ mr. steevens observes that a codling _antiently_ meant an immature apple, and the present passage _plainly_ proves it, as none but immature apples could be had in summer," all this wisdom is thrown away. we can assure mr. weber, on the authority of ford himself, that "hot codlings" are _not_ apples, either mature or immature. steevens is a dangerous guide for such as do not look well about them. his errors are specious: for he was a man of ingenuity: but he was often wantonly mischievous, and delighted to stumble for the mere gratification of dragging unsuspecting innocents into the mire with him. he was, in short, the very puck of commentators.... no writer, in our remembrance, meets with so many "singular words" as the present editor. he conjectures, however, that _unvamp'd_ means _disclosed_. it means not stale, not patched up. we should have supposed it impossible to miss the sense of so trite an expression.... mr. weber's acquaintance with our dramatic writers extends, as the reader must have observed, very little beyond the indexes of steevens and reed. if he cannot find the word of which he is in quest, in them, he sets it down as an uncommon expression, or a coinage of his author.... these inadvertences, and many others which might be noticed, being chiefly confined to the notes, do not, perhaps, detract much from the value of the text: we now turn to some of a different kind, which bear hard on the editor, and prove that his want of knowledge is not compensated by any extraordinary degree of attention. it is not sufficient for mr. weber to say that many of the errors which we shall point out are found in the old copy. it was his duty to reform them. a facsimile of blunders no one requires. modern editions of our old poets are purchased upon the faith of a corrected text: this is their only claim to notice; and, if defective here, they become at once little better than waste-paper.... there is something extremely capricious in mr. weber's mode of proceeding: words are tampered with which are necessary to the right understanding of the text, while others, which reduce it to absolute jargon, are left unmolested.... we might carry this part of our examination to an immense extent; but we forbear. enough, and more than enough, is done to show that a strict revision of the text is indispensible; and, if it should fall to the lot of the present editor to undertake it, we trust that he will evince somewhat more care than he manifests in the conclusion of the work before us. it will scarcely be credited that mr. weber should travel through such a volume as we have just passed, in quest of errata, and find only one. "vol. ii (he says), p. , line , for satiromastrix read satiromastix!" we could be well content to rest here; but we have a more serious charge to bring against the editor, than the omission of points, or the misapprehension of words. he has polluted his pages with the blasphemies of a poor maniac, who, it seems, once published some detached scenes of the "broken heart." for this unfortunate creature, every feeling mind will find an apology in his calamitous situation; but--for mr. weber, we know not where the warmest of his friends will seek either palliation or excuse. on keats [from _the quarterly review_, april, ] reviewers have sometimes been accused of not reading the works which they affected to criticise. on the present occasion we shall anticipate the author's complaint, and honestly confess that we have not read his work. not that we have been wanting in our duty--far from it--indeed, we have made efforts almost as superhuman as the story itself appears to be, to get through it; but with the fullest stretch of our perseverence, we are forced to confess that we have not been able to struggle beyond the first of the four books[ ] of which this poetic romance consists. we should extremely lament this want of energy, or whatever it may be, on our parts, were it not for one consolation--namely, that we are no better acquainted with the meaning of that book through which we have so painfully toiled than we are with that of the three which we have not looked into. [ ] _endymion: a poetic romance_. by john keats. london, . it is not that mr. keats (if that be his real name, for we almost doubt that any man in his senses would put his real name to such a rhapsody) it is not, we say, that the author has not powers of language, rays of fancy, and gleams of genius--he has all these; but he is unhappily a disciple of the new school of what has been somewhere called cockney poetry; which may be defined to consist of the most incongruous ideas in the most uncouth language. of this school mr. leigh hunt, as we observed in a former number, aspires to be the hierophant. our readers will recollect the pleasant recipes for harmonious and sublime poetry which he gave us in his preface to _rimini_, and the still more facetious instances of his harmony and sublimity in the verses themselves; and they will recollect above all the contempt of pope, johnson, and such like poetasters and pseudo-critics, which so forcibly contrasted itself with mr. leigh hunt's approbation of --all the things itself had wrote, of special merit though of little note. the author is a copyist of mr. hunt, but he is more unintelligible, almost as rugged, twice as diffuse, and ten times more tiresome and absurd than his prototype, who, though he impudently presumed to seat himself in the chair of criticism, and to measure his own poetry by his own standard, yet generally had a meaning. but mr. keats had advanced no dogmas which he was bound to support by examples, his nonsense therefore is quite gratuitous; he writes it for its own sake, and being bitten by mr. leigh hunt's insane criticism, more than rivals the insanity of his poetry. mr. keats's preface hints that his poem was produced under peculiar circumstances.... the two first books, and indeed the two last, are not of such completion as to warrant their passing the press. p. vii. thus, "the two first books" are, even in his own judgment, unfit to appear, and "the two last" are, it seems, in the same condition--and as two and two make four, and as that is the whole number of books, we have a clear and, we believe, a very just estimate of the entire work. mr. keats, however, deprecates criticism on this "immature and feverish" work in terms which are themselves sufficiently feverish; and we confess that we should have abstained from inflicting upon him any of the tortures of the "_fierce hell_" of criticism, which terrify his imagination, if he had not begged to be spared in order that he might write more; if we had not observed in him a certain degree of talent which deserves to be put in the right way, or which, at least, ought to be warned of the wrong; and if, finally, he had not told us that he is of an age and temper which imperiously require mental discipline. of the story we have been able to make out but little; it seems to be mythological, and probably relates to the loves of diana and endymion; but of this, as the scope of the work has altogether escaped us, we cannot speak with any degree of certainty: and must therefore content ourselves with giving some instances of its diction and versification.-- and here again we are perplexed and puzzled.--at first it appeared to us, that mr. keats had been amusing himself and wearying his readers with an immeasurable game at _bouts rimés_; but, if we recollect rightly, it is an indispensable condition at this play, that the rhymes when filled up shall have a meaning; and our author, as we have already hinted, has no meaning. he seems to us to write a line at random, and then he follows not the thought excited by this line, but that suggested by the _rhyme_ with which it concludes. there is hardly a complete couplet inclosing a complete idea in the whole book. he wanders from one subject to another, from the association, not of ideas, but of sounds, and the work is composed of hemistichs which, it is quite evident, have forced themselves upon the author by the mere force of the catchwords on which they turn.... be still the unimaginable lodge for solitary thinkings; such as dodge conception to the very bourne of heaven, then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven, that spreading in this dull and clodded earth gives it a touch ethereal--a new birth. p. . _lodge, dodge--heaven, leaven--earth, birth_; such, in six words, is the sum and substance of six lines. we come now to the author's taste in versification. he cannot indeed write a sentence, but perhaps he may be able to spin a line. let us see. the following are specimens of his prosodial notions of our english heroic metre. dear as the temple's self, so does the moon, the passion poesy, glories infinite, p. . so plenteously all weed-hidden roots, p. . ... by this time our readers must be pretty well satisfied as to the meaning of his sentences and the structures of his lines: we now present them with some of the new words with which, in imitation of mr. leigh hunt, he adorns our language. we are told that "turtles _passion_ their voices" (p. ); that "an arbour was _nested_" (p. ); and a lady's locks "_gordian'd_" up (p. ); and to supply the place of nouns thus verbalised mr. keats, with great fecundity, spawns new ones; such as "men-slugs and human _serpentry_" (p. ); "_honey-feel_ of bliss" (p. ); "wives prepare _needments_" (p. )--and so forth. then he has formed new verbs by the process of cutting off their tails, the adverbs, and affixing them to their foreheads; thus "the wine out-sparkled" (p. ); the "multitude up-follow'd" (p. ); and "night up-took" (p. ). "the wind up-blows" (p. ); and the "hours are down-sunken" (p. ). but if he sinks some adverbs in the verbs he compensates the language with adverbs and adjectives which he separates from the parent stock. thus, a lady "whispers _pantingly_ and close," makes "_hushing_ signs," and steers her skiff into a "_ripply_ cove" (p. ); a shower falls "_refreshfully_" (p. ); and a vulture has a "_spreaded_ tail" (p. ). but enough of mr. leigh hunt and his simple neophite.--if anyone should be bold enough to purchase this "poetic romance," and so much more patient than ourselves, as to get beyond the first book, and so much more fortunate as to find a meaning, we entreat him to make us acquainted with his success; we shall then return to the task which we now abandon in despair, and endeavour to make all due amends to mr. keats and to our readers. croker on sydney smith [from _the quarterly review_, february, ] this sermon[ ] is written on the characters and duties of the clergy. perhaps it would have produced more effect upon the yorkshire divines had it come from one who had lived longer among them, and of the correspondence of whose life with his doctrines, they had better opportunities of judging; one whom, from long experience, they knew to be neither sullied by the little "affectations," nor "agitated by the little vanities of the world," whose strict observance of "those decencies and proprieties," which persons in their profession "owe to their situation in society," they had remarked through a long course of years. whether the life of mr. smith would form an illustration of his own precepts remains to be proved. but, if we rightly recollect dates, he is still to his neighbours a sort of unknown person, and hardly yet tried in his new situation of a parish priest. we therefore think, in spite of all the apologies with which he has prefaced his advice, that a more judicious topic might easily have been selected. [ ] a sermon preached before his grace the archbishop of york, and the clergy, at malton, at the visitation, aug., . by the rev. sydney smith, a.m., rector of foston, in yorkshire, and late fellow of new college, oxford. carpenter, . in the execution of this sermon there is little to commend. as a system of duties for any body of clergy, it is wretchedly deficient:--and really, when we call to mind the rich, the full, the vigorous, eloquent, and impassioned manner in which these duties are recommended and inforced in the writings of our old divines, we are mortified beyond measure at the absolute poverty, crudeness, and meanness of the present attempt to mimic them. as a composition, it is very imperfect: it has nearly the same merits, and rather more than the same defects, which characterise his former publications. mr. smith never writes but in a loose declamatory way. he is careless of connection, and not very anxious about argument. his sole object is to produce an effect at the moment, a strong first impression upon an audience, and if that can be done he is very indifferent as to what may be the result of examination and reflection.... if mr. smith is not only not a socinian, but if in his heart he doubts as to the least important point of the most abstruce and controverted subject on which our articles have decided, if, in short, he is not one of the most rigorously orthodox divines that exists, he has been guilty of the grossest and most disgusting hypocrisy--he has pronounced in the face of the public to which he appeals, and of the church to which he belongs, in the most solemn manner, and on the most solemn subject, a direct, intentional, and scandalous falsehood--he has acted in a way utterly subversive of all confidence among men; and the greater part of the wretches who retire from a course of justice degraded for perjury rank higher in the scale of morality, than an educated man holding a respectable place in society, who could thus trifle with the most sacred obligations. he could be induced to this base action only by a base motive, that of obviating any difficulties which a suspicion of his holding opinions different from those avowed by the establishment, might throw in the way of his preferment: and of rendering himself a possible object of the bounty of "his worthy masters and mistresses," whenever the golden days arrive, in which they shall again dispense the favours of the crown. such must be the case, if mr. smith is not sincere. there is no alternative. now this is scarcely to be believed of any gentleman of tolerably fair character, still less of a teacher of morality and religion, who holds forth in all his writings the most refined sentiments of honour and disinterestedness. the style of his profession of faith, however, partakes very much of the most offensive peculiarities of his manner. it is abrupt and violent to a degree which not only shocks good taste, but detracts considerably from the appearance of sincerity. it seems as if he considered his creed as a sort of nauseous medicine which could only be taken off at a draught, and he looks round for applause at the heroic effort by which he has drained the cup to its very dregs. but the passage about the verse in st. john is yet more extraordinary. has mr. smith really gone through the controversy upon this subject? and even if he has, is this the light way in which a man wholly unknown in the learned world, is entitled to contradict the opinion of some of the greatest scholars of europe? we have, however, the mere word of the facetious rector of foston, opposite to the authority and the arguments of a porson and a griesbach. it is at his command, unsupported by the smallest attempt at reasoning, that we are to set aside the opinion of men whose lives have been spent in the study of the greek language, and of biblical criticism, and which has been acquiesced in by many of the most competent judges both here and abroad. such audacity (to call it by no coarser name) is in itself only calculated to excite laughter and contempt: coupled as it is with a most unprovoked and unwarrantable mention of the name of the bishop of lincoln, it excites indignation. we feel no morbid sensibility for the character of a mitred divine: but we cannot see a blow aimed at the head of one of the chiefs of the church, a pious, learned, and laborious man, by the hand of ignorance and presumption, without interposing, not to heal the wound, for no wound has been made, but to chastise the assailant. the bishop of lincoln gives up these verses, not carelessly, and unadvisedly, but doubtless because he is persuaded that the cause of true religion can never be so much injured as by resting its defence upon passages liable to so much suspicion; and because he knows, that the doctrine of the trinity by no means depends upon that particular passage, but may be satisfactorily deduced from various other expressions, and from the general tenor of holy writ. indeed, if we were not prevented from harbouring any such suspicion by mr. smith's flaming profession of the _iotal_ accuracy of his creed; and if we could doubt the orthodoxy of the divine, without impugning the honesty of the man, we should be inclined to suspect that his defence of the verses proceeded from a concealed enemy. we are not unaware that the question cannot even yet be regarded as finally and incontrovertibly settled, but we apprehend the truth to be that mr. smith, not having read one syllable upon the subject, but having accidentally heard that there was a disputed verse in st. john relative to the doctrine of the trinity, and that it had been given up by the bishop of lincoln, thought he could not do better than by one dash of the pen, to show his knowledge of controversy, and the orthodoxy of his belief, at the expense of that prelate's character for discretion and zeal.... the next note is mere political, an ebullition of party rage, in which mr. smith abuses the present ministry with great bitterness, talks of "wickedness," "weakness," "ignorance," "temerity," after the usual fashion of opposition pamphlets, and clamours loudly against what, with an obstinacy of misrepresentation hardly to be credited, he persists in terming the "persecuting laws" against the roman catholics.... he is very anxious that his political friends should not desist from urging the question--an act of tergiversation and unconsistency which, he thinks, would ruin them in the estimation of the public. yet, if we mistake not, these gentlemen, at least that portion of them with which mr. smith (as we are told) is most closely connected, gave up, without a blush, india, reform, and peace, all of which they taught us to believe were vital questions in which the honour or the security of the country was involved. but catholic emancipation has some peculiar recommendations. it is odious to the people, and painful to the king, and therefore it cannot be delayed, without an utter sacrifice of character.... now we are by no means so eager on mr. smith in what he would term the cause of _religious freedom_. we belong to that vulgar school of timid churchmen, to whom the elevation of a vast body of sectaries to a level with the establishment, is a matter of very grave consideration, if not of alarm. we think that something is due to the prejudices (supposing them to be no more than prejudices) of nine-tenths of the people of england; and we are even so childish (for which we crave mr. smith's pardon) as to pay some regard to the feelings of the king, in whose personal mortification, we fairly own, we should not take the smallest pleasure.... we now take leave of the sermon and its notes. but, before we conclude, we are desirous ... to convey to mr. smith a little salutary advice ... to remind him that unmeasured severity of invective against others, will naturally produce, at the first favourable opportunity, a retort of similar harshness upon himself; and that unless he feels himself completely invulnerable, the conduct which he has hitherto pursued, is not only uncharitable and violent, but foolish. he should be told that, although he possesses some talents, they are by no means, as he supposes, of the first order. he writes in a tone of superiority which would hardly be justifiable at the close of a long and successful literary career. his acquirements are very moderate, though he wants neither boldness nor dexterity in displaying them to the best advantage; and he is far, very far indeed, from being endowed with that powerful, disciplined, and comprehensive mind, which should entitle him to decide authoritatively and at once upon the most difficult parts of subjects so far removed from one another as biblical criticism and legislation. his style is rapid and lively, but hasty and inaccurate; and he either despises or is incapable of regular and finished composition. humour, indeed (we speak now generally, of all these performances which have been ascribed to him by common consent), is his strong point; and here he is often successful; but even from this praise many deductions must be made. his jokes are broad and coarse; he is altogether a mannerist, and never knows where to stop. the [greek: _paedenagan_] seems quite unknown to him. his pleasantry does not proceed from keen and well-supported irony; just, but unexpected comparisons; but depends, for effect, chiefly upon strange polysyllabic epithets, and the endless enumeration of minute circumstances. in this he, no doubt, displays considerable ingenuity, and a strong sense of what is ludicrous; but his good things are almost all prepared after one receipt. there is some talent, but more trick, in their composition. the thing is well done, but it is of a low order; we meet with nothing graceful, nothing exquisite, nothing that pleases upon repetition and reflection. in everything that mr. smith attempts, in all his "bravura" passages, serious or comic, one is always shocked by some affectation or absurdity; something in direct defiance of all those principles which have been established by the authority of the best critics, and the example of the best writers: indeed, bad taste seems to be mr. smith's evil genius, both as to sentiment and expression. it is always hovering near him, and, like one of the harpies, is sure to pounce down before the end of the feast, and spoil the banquet, and disgust the guests. the present publication is by far the worst of all his performances, avowed or imputed. literary merit it has none; but in arrogance, presumption, and absurdity, it far outdoes all his former outdoings. indeed, we regard it as one of the most deplorable mistakes that has ever been committed by a man of supposed talents.... on macaulay [from _the quarterly review_, march, ] _the history of england from the accession of james ii_. by thomas babington macaulay. vols. vo. . the reading world will not need our testimony, though we willingly give it, that mr. macaulay possesses great talents and extraordinary acquirements. he unites powers and has achieved successes, not only various, but different in their character, and seldom indeed conjoined in one individual. he was while in parliament, though not quite an orator, and still less a debater, the most brilliant rhetorician of the house. his roman ballads (as we said in an article on their first appearance) exhibit a novel idea worked out with a rare felicity, so as to combine the spirit of the ancient minstrels with the regularity of construction and sweetness of versification which modern taste requires; and his critical essays exhibit a wide variety of knowledge with a great fertility of illustration, and enough of the salt of pleasantry and sarcasm to flavour and in some degree disguise a somewhat declamatory and pretentious dogmatism. it may seem too epigrammatic, but it is, in our serious judgment, strictly true, to say that his history seems to be a kind of combination and exaggeration of the peculiarities of all his former efforts. it is as full of political prejudice and partisan advocacy as any of his parliamentary speeches. it makes the facts of english history as fabulous as his lays do those of roman tradition; and it is written with as captious, as dogmatical, and as cynical a spirit as the bitterest of his reviews. that upon so serious an undertaking he has lavished uncommon exertion, is not to be doubted; nor can any one during the first reading escape the _entraînement_ of his picturesque, vivid, and pregnant execution: but we have fairly stated the impression left on ourselves by a more calm and leisurely perusal. we have been so long the opponents of the political party to which mr. macaulay belongs that we welcomed the prospect of again meeting him on the neutral ground of literature. we are of that class of tories--protestant tories, as they were called--that have no sympathy with the jacobites. we are as strongly convinced as mr. macaulay can be of the necessity of the revolution of --of the general prudence and expediency of the steps taken by our whig and tory ancestors of the convention parliament, and of the happiness, for a century and a half, of the constitutional results. we were, therefore, not without hope that at least in these two volumes, almost entirely occupied with the progress and accomplishment of that revolution, we might without any sacrifice of our political feelings enjoy unalloyed the pleasures reasonably to be expected from mr. macaulay's high powers both of research and illustration. that hope has been deceived: mr. macaulay's historical narrative is poisoned with a rancour more violent than even the passions of the time; and the literary qualities of the work, though in some respects very remarkable, are far from redeeming its substantial defects. there is hardly a page-- we speak literally, hardly a page--that does not contain something objectionable either in substance or in colour: and the whole of the brilliant and at first captivating narrative is perceived on examination to be impregnated to a really marvellous degree with bad taste, bad feeling, and, we are under the painful necessity of adding--bad faith. these are grave charges: but we make them in sincerity, and we think that we shall be able to prove them; and if, here or hereafter, we should seem to our readers to use harsher terms than good taste might approve, we beg in excuse to plead that it is impossible to fix one's attention on, and to transcribe large portions of a work, without being in some degree infected with its spirit; and mr. macaulay's pages, whatever may be their other characteristics, are as copious a repertorium of vituperative eloquence as, we believe, our language can produce, and especially against everything in which he chooses (whether right or wrong) to recognise the shibboleth of toryism. we shall endeavour, however, in the expression of our opinions, to remember the respect we owe to our readers and to mr. macaulay's general character and standing in the world of letters, rather than the provocations and examples of the volumes immediately before us. mr. macaulay announces his intention of bringing down the history of england almost to our own times; but these two volumes are complete in themselves, and we may fairly consider them as a history of the revolution; and in that light the first question that presents itself to us is why mr. macaulay has been induced to re-write what had already been so often and even so recently written--among others, by dalrymple, a strenuous but honest whig, and by mr. macaulay's own oracles, fox and mackintosh? it may be answered that both fox and mackintosh left their works imperfect. fox got no farther than monmouth's death; but mackintosh came down to the orange invasion, and covered full nine-tenths of the period as yet occupied by mr. macaulay. why then did mr. macaulay not content himself with beginning where mackintosh left off-- that is, with the revolution? and it would have been the more natural, because, as our readers know, it is there that hume's history terminates. what reason does he give for this work of supererogation? none. he does not (as we shall see more fully by and by) take the slightest notice of mackintosh's history, no more than if it had never existed. has he produced a new fact? not one. has he discovered any new materials? none, as far as we can judge, but the collections of fox and mackintosh, confided to him by their families.[ ] it seems to us a novelty in literary practice that a writer raised far by fame and fortune above the vulgar temptations of the craft should undertake to tell a story already frequently and recently told by masters of the highest authority and most extensive information, without having, or even professing to have, any additional means or special motive to account for the attempt. [ ] it appears from two notes of acknowledgments to m. guizot and the keepers of the archives at the hague, that mr. macaulay obtained some additions to the copies which mackintosh already had of the letters of ronquillo the spanish and citters the dutch minister at the court of james. we may conjecture that these additions were insignificant, since mr. macaulay has nowhere, that we have observed, specially noticed them; but except these, whatever they may be, we find no trace of anything that fox and mackintosh had not already examined and classed. we suspect, however, that we can trace mr. macaulay's design to its true source--the example and success of the author of waverley. the historical novel, if not invented, at least first developed and illustrated by the happy genius of scott, took a sudden and extensive hold of the public taste; he himself, in most of his subsequent novels, availed himself largely of the historical element which had contributed so much to the popularity of waverley. the press has since that time groaned with his imitators. we have had historical novels of all classes and grades. we have had served up in this form the norman conquest and the wars of the roses, the gunpowder plot and the fire of london, darnley and richelieu--and almost at the same moment with mr. macaulay's appeared a professed romance of mr. ainsworth's on the same subject-- james ii. nay, on a novelist of this popular order has been conferred the office of _historiographer_ to the queen. mr. macaulay, too mature not to have well measured his own peculiar capacities, not rich in invention but ingenious in application, saw the use that might be made of this principle, and that history itself would be much more popular with a large embroidery of personal, social, and even topographical anecdote and illustration, instead of the sober garb in which we had been in the habit of seeing it. few histories indeed ever were or could be written without some admixture of this sort. the father of the art himself, old herodotus, vivified his text with a greater share of what we may call personal anecdote than any of his classical followers. modern historians, as they happened to have more or less of what we may call _artistic_ feeling, admitted more or less of this decoration into their text, but always with an eye (which mr. macaulay never exercises) to the appropriateness and value of the illustration. generally, however, such matters have been thrown into notes, or, in a few instances--as by dr. henry and in mr. knight's interesting and instructive "pictorial history"--into separate chapters. the large class of memoir-writers may also be fairly considered as anecdotical historians--and they are in fact the sources from which the novelists of the new school extract their principal characters and main incidents. mr. macaulay deals with history, evidently, as we think, in imitation of the novelists--his first object being always picturesque effect--his constant endeavour to give from all the repositories of gossip that have reached us a kind of circumstantial reality to his incidents, and a sort of dramatic life to his personages. for this purpose he would not be very solicitous about contributing any substantial addition to history, strictly so called; on the contrary, indeed, he seems to have willingly taken it as he found it, adding to it such lace and trimmings as he could collect from the monmouth-street of literature, seldom it may be safely presumed of very delicate quality. it is, as johnson drolly said, "an old coat with a new facing--the old dog in a new doublet." the conception was bold, and--so far as availing himself, like other novelists, of the fashion of the day to produce a popular and profitable effect--the experiment has been eminently successful. but besides the obvious incentives just noticed, mr. macaulay had also the stimulus of what we may compendiously call a strong party spirit. one would have thought that the whigs might have been satisfied with their share in the historical library of the revolution:--besides rapin, echard, and jones, who, though of moderate politics in general, were stout friends to the revolution, they have had of professed and zealous whigs, burnet, the foundation of all, kennett, oldmixon, dalrymple, laing, brodie, fox, and finally mackintosh and his continuator, besides innumerable writers of less note, who naturally adopted the successful side; and we should not have supposed that the reader of any of those historians, and particularly the later ones, could complain that they had been too sparing of imputation, or even vituperation, to the opposite party. but not so mr. macaulay. the most distinctive feature on the face of his pages is personal virulence--if he has at all succeeded in throwing an air of fresh life into his characters, it is mainly due, as any impartial and collected reader will soon discover, to the simple circumstance of his hating the individuals of the opposite party as bitterly, as passionately, as if they were his own personal enemies-- more so, indeed, we hope than he would a mere political antagonist of his own day. when some one suggested to the angry o'neil that one of the anglo-irish families whom he was reviling as strangers had been four hundred years settled in ireland, the milesian replied, "_i hate the churls as if they had come but yesterday_." mr. macaulay seems largely endowed with this (as with a more enviable) species of memory, and he hates, for example, king charles i as if he had been murdered only yesterday. let us not be understood as wishing to abridge an historian's full liberty of censure--but he should not be a satirist, still less a libeller. we do not say nor think that mr. macaulay's censures were always unmerited--far from it--but they are always, we think without exception, immoderate. nay, it would scarcely be too much to say that this massacre of character is the point on which mr. macaulay must chiefly rest any claims he can advance to the praise of impartiality, for while he paints everything that looks like a tory in the blackest colours, he does not altogether spare any of the whigs against whom he takes a spite, though he always visits them with a gentler correction. in fact, except oliver cromwell, king william, a few gentlemen who had the misfortune to be executed or exiled for high treason, and every dissenting minister that he has or can find occasion to notice, there are hardly any persons mentioned who are not stigmatized as knaves or fools, differing only in degrees of "turpitude" and "imbecility". mr. macaulay has almost realized the work that alexander chalmers's playful imagination had fancied, a _biographia flagitiosa_, or _the lives of eminent scoundrels_. this is also an imitation of the historical novel, though rather in the track of eugene aram and jack sheppard than of waverley or woodstock; but what would you have? to attain the picturesque--the chief object of our artist--he adopts the ready process of dark colours and a rough brush. nature, even at the worst, is never gloomy enough for a spagnoletto, and judge jeffries himself, for the first time, excites a kind of pity when we find him (like one to whom he was nearly akin) not so black as he is painted. from this first general view of mr. macaulay's historical novel, we now proceed to exhibit in detail some grounds for the opinion which we have ventured to express. we premise that we are about to enter into details, because there is in fact little to question or debate about but details. we have already hinted that there is absolutely no new fact of any consequence, and, we think we can safely add, hardly a new view of any historical fact, in the whole book. whatever there may remain questionable or debatable in the history of the period, we should have to argue with burnet, dalrymple, or mackintosh, and not with mr. macaulay. it would, we know, have a grander air if we were to make his book the occasion of disquisitions on the rise and progress of the constitution--on the causes by which the monarchy of the tudors passed, through the murder of charles, to the despotism of cromwell--how again that produced a restoration which settled none of the great moral or political questions which had generated all those agitations, and which, in return, those agitations had complicated and inflamed--and how, at last, the undefined, discordant, and antagonistic pretensions of the royal and democratical elements were reconciled by the revolution and the bill of rights--and finally, whether with too much or too little violence to the principles of the ancient constitution--all these topics, we say, would, if we were so inclined, supply us, as they have supplied mr. macaulay, with abundant opportunities of grave tautology and commonplace; but we decline to raise sham debates on points where there is no contest. we can have little historic difference, properly so called, with one who has no historical difference on the main facts with anybody else: instead, then, of pretending to treat any great questions, either of constitutional learning or political philosophy, we shall confine ourselves to the humbler but more practical and more useful task above stated. our first complaint is of a comparatively small and almost mechanical, and yet very real, defect--the paucity and irregularity of his dates, and the mode in which the few that he does give are overlaid, as it were, by the text. this, though it may be very convenient to the writer, and quite indifferent to the reader, of an historical romance, is perplexing to any one who might wish to read and weigh the book as a serious history, of which dates are the guides and landmarks; and when they are visibly neglected we cannot but suspect that the historian will be found not very solicitous about strict accuracy. this negligence is carried to such an extent that, in what looks like a very copious table of contents, one of the most important events of the whole history-- that, indeed, on which the revolution finally turned--the marriage of princess mary to the prince of orange, is not noticed; nor is any date affixed to the very cursory mention of it in the text. it is rather hard to force the reader who buys this last new model history, in general so profuse of details, to recur to one of the old-fashioned ones to discover that this important event happened in the year , and on the th of november--a day thrice over remarkable in william's history--for his birth, his marriage, and his arrival with his invading army on the coast of devon. our second complaint is of one of the least important, perhaps, but most prominent defects of mr. macaulay's book--his style--not merely the choice and order of words, commonly called style, but the turn of mind which prompts the choice of expressions as well as of topics. we need not repeat that mr. macaulay has a great facility of language, a prodigal _copia verborum_--that he narrates rapidly and clearly--that he paints very forcibly,--and that his readers throughout the tale are carried on, or away, by something of the sorcery which a brilliant orator exercises over his auditory. but he has also in a great degree the faults of the oratorical style. he deals much too largely in epithets--a habit exceedingly dangerous to historical truth. he habitually constructs a piece of what should be calm, dispassionate narrative, upon the model of the most passionate peroration--adhering in numberless instances to precisely the same specific formula of artifice. his diction is often inflated into fustian, and he indulges in exaggeration till it sometimes, unconsciously no doubt, amounts to falsehood. it is a common fault of those who strive at producing oratorical effects, to oscillate between commonplace and extravagance; and while studying mr. macaulay, one feels as if vibrating between facts that every one knows and consequences which nobody can believe. we are satisfied that whoever will take, as we have been obliged to do, the pains of sifting what mr. macaulay has produced from his own mind with what he has borrowed from others, will be entirely of our opinion. in truth, when, after reading a page or two of this book, we have occasion to turn to the same transaction in burnet, dalrymple, or hume, we feel as if we were exchanging the glittering agility of a rope-dancer for gentlemen in the attire and attitude of society. and we must say that there is not one of those writers that does not give a clearer and more trustworthy account of all that is really historical in the period than can be collected from mr. macaulay's more decorated pages. we invite our readers to try mr. macaulay's merits as an historian by the test of comparison with his predecessors. * * * * * every great painter is supposed to make a larger use of one particular colour. what a monstrous bladderful of _infamy_ mr. macaulay must have squeezed on his palette when he took to portrait-painting! we have no concern, except as friends to historical justice, for the characters of any of the parties thus stigmatized, nor have we room or time to discuss these, or the hundred other somewhat similar cases which the volumes present; but we have looked at the authorities cited by mr. macaulay, and we do not hesitate to say that, "as is his wont," he has, with the exception of jeffries, outrageously exaggerated them. we must next notice the way in which mr. macaulay refers to and uses his authorities--no trivial points in the execution of a historical work-- though we shall begin with comparatively small matters. in his chapter on manners, which we may call the most remarkable in his book, one of his most frequent references is to "chamberlayne's state of england, ." it is referred to at least a dozen or fourteen times in that chapter alone; but we really have some doubt whether mr. macaulay knew the nature of the book he so frequently quoted. chamberlayne's work, of which the real title is "_angliae_ [or, after the scotch union, _magnae britanniae_] _notitia, or the present state of england_" [or _great britain_], was a kind of periodical publication, half history and half court-calendar. it was first published in , and new editions or reprints, with new dates, were issued, not annually, we believe, but so frequently that there are between thirty and forty of them in the museum, ending with . from the way and for the purposes for which mr. macaulay quotes chamberlayne, we should almost suspect that he had lighted on the volume for , and, knowing of no other, considered it as a substantive work published in that year. _once_ indeed he cites the date of , but there was, it seems, no edition of that year, and this may be an accidental error; but however that may be, our readers will smile when they hear that the two first and several following passages which mr. macaulay cites from chamberlayne (i. and ), as _characteristic_ of the _days of charles ii_, distinctively from more modern times, are to be found _literatim_ in every succeeding "chamberlayne" down to --the last we have seen--were thus continually reproduced because the proprietors and editors of the table book knew they were _not_ particularly characteristical of one year or reign more than another--and now, in , might be as well quoted as characteristics of the reign of george ii as of charles ii. we must add that there are references to chamberlayne and to several weightier books (some of which we shall notice more particularly hereafter), as justifying assertions for which, on examining the said books with our best diligence, we have not been able to find a shadow of authority. our readers know that there was a dr. john eachard who wrote a celebrated work on the "grounds and occasions of the contempt of the clergy." they also know that there was a dr. lawrence echard who wrote both a history of england, and a history of the revolution. both of these were remarkable men; but we almost doubt whether mr. macaulay, who quotes the works of each, does not confound their persons, for he refers to them both by the common (as it may once have been) name of _each_ard, and at least twenty times by the wrong name. this, we admit, is a small matter; but what will some edinburgh reviewer (_temp_. albert v) say if he finds a writer confounding _catherine_ and _thomas_ macaulay as "the celebrated author of the great whig history of england"--a confusion hardly worse than that of the two eachards--for catherine, though now forgotten by an ungrateful public, made quite as much noise in her day as thomas does in ours. but we are sorry to say we have a heavier complaint against mr. macaulay. we accuse him of a habitual and really injurious perversion of his authorities. this unfortunate indulgence, in whatever juvenile levity it may have originated, and through whatever steps it may have grown into an unconscious habit, seems to us to pervade the whole work-- from alpha to omega--from procopius to mackintosh--and it is on that very account the more difficult to bring to the distinct conception of our readers. individual instances can be, and shall be, produced; but how can we extract and exhibit the minute particles that colour every thread of the texture?--how extract the impalpable atoms that have fermented the whole brewing? we must do as dr. faraday does at the institution when he exhibits in miniature the larger processes of nature. we will suppose, then--taking a simple phrase as the fairest for the experiment--that mr. macaulay found barillon saying in french, "_le drôle m'a fait peur_," or burnet saying in english, "_the fellow frightened me_." we should be pretty sure not to find the same words in mr. macaulay. he would pause--he would first consider whether "the fellow" spoken of was a _whig_ or a _tory_. if a whig, the thing would be treated as a joke, and mr. macaulay would transmute it playfully into "_the rogue startled me_"; but if a _tory_, it would take a deeper dye, and we should find "_the villain assaulted me_"; and in either case we should have a grave reference to jan. , "barillon,-------- "; or, "burnet, i. ." feb. , if our reader will keep this formula in his mind, he will find it a fair exponent of mr. macaulay's _modus operandi_.... we shall now proceed to more general topics. we decline, as we set out by saying, to treat this "new atalantis" as a serious history, and therefore we shall not trouble our readers with matters of such remote interest as the errors and anachronisms with which the chapter that affects to tell our earlier history abounds. our readers would take no great interest in a discussion whether hengist was as fabulous as hercules, alaric a christian born, and "the fair chapels of new college and st. george" at windsor of the same date. but there is one subject in that chapter on which we cannot refrain from saying a few words--the church. we decline to draw any inferences from this work as to mr. macaulay's own religious opinions; but it is our duty to say--and we trust we may do so without offence--that mr. macaulay's mode of dealing with the general principle of church government, and the doctrine, discipline, and influence of the church of england, cannot fail to give serious pain, and sometimes to excite a stronger feeling than pain, in the mind of every friend to that church, whether in its spiritual or corporate character. he starts with a notion that the fittest engine to redeem england from the mischiefs and mistakes of oligarchical feudalism was to be found in the imposing machinery and deception of the roman church; overlooking the great truth that it was not the romish church, but the genius of christianity, working its vast but silent change, which was really guiding on the chariot of civilization; but in this broad principle there was not enough of the picturesqueness of detail to captivate his mind. it would not suit him to distinguish between the church of christ and the web of corruptions that had grown about her, but could not effectually arrest the benignant influence inherent in her mainspring. he therefore leads his readers to infer that christianity came first to britain with st. austin, and for aught that mr. macaulay condescends to inform us, the existence of a prior anglo-saxon church was a monkish fiction. the many unhappy circumstances of the position taken up by the romish church in its struggles for power--some of them unavoidable, it may be, if such a battle were to be fought--are actually displayed as so many blessings, attainable only by a system which the historian himself condemns elsewhere as baneful and untrue. he maintains these strange paradoxes and contradictions with a pertinacity quite surprising. he doubts whether a true form of christianity would have answered the purposes of liberty and civilization half so well as the acknowledged duplicities of the church of rome. it may perhaps be doubted whether a purer religion might not have been found a less efficient agent.--i. . there is a point in the life both of an individual and a society at which submission and faith, such as at a later period would be justly called servility and credulity, are useful qualities.--i. . these are specimens of the often exposed fallacies in which he delights to indulge. place right and wrong in a state of uncertainty by reflected lights, and you may fill up your picture as you like. and such for ever is mr. macaulay's principle of art. it is not the elimination of error that he seeks for, but an artistic balance of conflicting forces. and this he pursues throughout: deposing the dignity of the historian for the clever antithesis of the pamphleteer. at last, on this great and important point of religious history--a point which more than any other influences every epoch of english progress, he arrives at this pregnant and illustrative conclusion-- it is difficult to say whether england owes more to the roman catholic religion or to the reformation.--i. . england owes nothing to "the roman catholic religion." she owes everything to christianity, which romanism injured and hampered but could not destroy, and which the reformation freed at least from the worst of those impure and impeding excrescences. with regard to his treatment of the reformation, and especially of the church of england, it is very difficult to give our readers an adequate idea. throughout a system of depreciation--we had almost said insult--is carried on: sneers, sarcasms, injurious comparisons, sly misrepresentations, are all adroitly mingled throughout the narrative, so as to produce an unfavourable impression, which the author has not the frankness to attempt directly. even when obliged to approach the subject openly, it is curious to observe how, under a slight veil of impartiality, imputations are raised and calumnies accredited. for instance, early in the first volume he gives us his view of the english reformation, as a kind of middle term, emerging out of the antagonist struggles of the catholics and calvinists: and it is impossible not to see that, between the three parties, he awards to the catholics the merit of unity and consistency; to the calvinists, of reason and independence; to the anglicans, the lowest motives of expediency and compromise. to enforce this last topic he relies on the inconsistencies, some real and some imaginary, imputed to cranmer, whose notions of worldly expedience he chooses to represent as the source of the anglican church.... every one of the circumstances on which we may presume that mr. macaulay would rely as justifying these charges has been long since, to more candid judgments, either disproved, explained, or excused, and in truth whatever blame can be justly attributed to any of them, belongs mainly, if not exclusively, to those whose violence and injustice drove a naturally upright and most conscientious man into the shifts and stratagems of self-defence. with the greatest fault and the only crime that charles in his whole life committed mr. macaulay does not reproach him--the consent to the execution of lord strafford--that indeed, as he himself penitentially confessed, was a deadly weight on his conscience, and is an indelible stain on his character; but even that guilt and shame belongs in a still greater degree to mr. macaulay's patriot heroes. this leads us to the conclusive plea which we enter to mr. macaulay's indictment, namely--that all those acts alleged as the excuses of rebellion and regicide occurred after the rebellion had broken out, and were at worst only devices of the unhappy king to escape from the regicide which he early foresaw. it was really the old story of the wolf and the lamb. it was far down the stream of rebellion that these acts of supposed perfidy on the part of charles could be said to have troubled it. but while he thus deals with the lamb, let us see how he treats the wolf. we have neither space nor taste for groping through the long and dark labyrinth of cromwell's proverbial duplicity and audacious apostacy: we shall content ourselves with two facts, which, though stated in the gentlest way by mr. macaulay, will abundantly justify the opinion which all mankind, except a few republican zealots, hold of that man's sincerity, of whose abilities, wonderful as they were, the most remarkable, and perhaps the most serviceable to his fortunes, was his hypocrisy; so much so, that south--a most acute observer of mankind, and who had been educated under the commonwealth and protectorate--in his sermon on "worldly wisdom," adduces cromwell as an instance of "habitual dissimulation and imposture." oliver, mr. macaulay tells us, modelled his army on the principle of composing it of men fearing god, and zealous for _public liberty_, and in the very next page he is forced to confess that thirteen years followed in which for the first and the last time the civil power of our country was subjected to military dictation.--i. . again, oliver had made his choice. he had kept the hearts of his soldiers, but he had _broken_ with every other class of his fellow citizens.--i. . that is, he had broken through all the promises, pledges, and specious pretences by which he had deceived and enslaved the nation, which mr. macaulay calls with such opportune _naïveté, his fellow citizens_! then follows, not a censure of this faithless usurpation, but many laboured apologies, and even defences of it, and a long series of laudatory epithets, some of which are worth collecting as a rare contrast to mr. macaulay's usual style, and particularly to the abuse of charles, which we have just exhibited. his _genius and resolution_ made him more _absolute master of his country_ than any of her legitimate kings had been.--i. . he having cut off the legitimate king's head on a pretence that charles had wished to make himself _absolutely master of the country_. everything yielded to the _vigour and ability_ of cromwell.--i. . the government, though in the form of a republic, was in truth a despotism, moderated only by the _wisdom, the sober-mindedness, and the magnanimity_ of the despot.--i. . with a vast deal more of the same tone. but mr. macaulay particularly expatiates on the influence that cromwell exercised over foreign states: and there is hardly any topic to which he recurs with more pleasure, or, as we think, with less sagacity, than the terror with which cromwell and the contempt with which the stuarts inspired the nations of europe. he somewhat exaggerates the extent of this feeling, and greatly misstates or mistakes the cause; and as this subject is in the present state of the world of more importance than any others in the work, we hope we may be excused for some observations tending to a sounder opinion on that subject. it was not, as mr. macaulay everywhere insists, the personal abilities and genius of cromwell that exclusively, or even in the first degree, carried his foreign influence higher than that of the stuarts. the internal struggles that distracted and consumed the strength of these islands throughout their reigns necessarily rendered us little formidable to our neighbours; and it is with no good grace that a whig historian stigmatises that result as shameful; for, without discussing whether it was justifiable or not, the fact is certain, that it was opposition of the whigs--often in rebellion and always in faction against the government--which disturbed all progress at home and paralysed every effort abroad. we are not, we say, now discussing whether that opposition was not justifiable and may not have been ultimately advantageous in several constitutional points; we think it decidedly was: but at present all we mean to do is to show that it had a great share in producing on our foreign influence the lowering effects of which mr. macaulay complains. and there is still another consideration which escapes mr. macaulay in his estimate of such usurpers as cromwell and buonaparte. a usurper is always more terrible both at home and abroad than a legitimate sovereign: first, the usurper is likely to be (and in these two cases was) a man of superior genius and military glory, wielding the irresistible power of the sword; but there is still stronger contrast-- legitimate governments are bound--at home by laws--abroad by treaties, family ties, and international interests; they acknowledge the law of nations, and are limited, even in hostilities, by many restraints and bounds. the despotic usurpers had no fetters of either sort--they had no opposition at home, and no scruples abroad. law, treaties, rights, and the like, had been already broken through like cobwebs, and kings naturally humbled themselves before a vigour that had dethroned and murdered kings, and foreign nations trembled at a power that had subdued in their own fields and cities the pride of england and the gallantry of france! to contrast cromwell and charles ii, napoleon and louis xviii, is sheer nonsense and mere verbiage--it is as if one should compare the house-dog and the wolf, and argue that the terror inspired by the latter was very much to his honour. all this is such a mystery to mr. macaulay that he wanders into two theories so whimsical, that we hesitate between passing them by as absurdities, or producing them for amusement; we adopt the latter. one is that cromwell could have no interest and therefore no personal share in the death of charles. "whatever cromwell was," says mr. macaulay, "he was no fool; and he must have known that charles i was obviously a less difficulty in his way than charles ii." cromwell, we retain the phrase, "was no fool," and he thought and _found_ that charles ii, was, as far as he was concerned, no difficulty at all. the real truth was, that the revolutionary party in england in , like that in france in , was but a rope of sand which nothing could cement and consolidate but the _blood of the kings--that_ was a common crime and a common and indissoluble tie which gave all their consistency and force to both revolutions--a stroke of original sagacity in cromwell and of imitative dexterity in robespierre. if mr. macaulay admits, as he subsequently does (i. ), that the regicide was "a sacrament of blood," by which the party became irrevocably bound to each other and separated from the rest of the nation, how can he pretend that cromwell derived no advantage from it? in fact, his admiration--we had almost said fanaticism--for cromwell betrays him throughout into the blindest inconsistencies. the second vision of mr. macaulay is, if possible, still more absurd. he imagines a cromwell dynasty! if it had not been for monk and his army, the rest of the nation would have been loyal to the son of the illustrious oliver. had the protector and the parliament been suffered to proceed undisturbed, there can be little doubt that an order of things similar to that which was afterwards established under the house of hanover, would have been established under the house of cromwell.--i. . and yet in a page or two mr. macaulay is found making an admission-- made, indeed, with the object of disparaging monk and the royalists--but which gives to his theory of a cromwellian dynasty the most conclusive refutation. it was probably not till monk had been some days in the capital that he made up his mind. the cry of the whole people was for a free parliament; and there could _be no doubt that a parliament really free would instantly restore the exiled family_.--i. . all this hypothesis of a cromwellian dynasty _looks_ like sheer nonsense; but we have no doubt it has a meaning, and we request our readers not to be diverted by the almost ludicrous partiality and absurdity of mr. macaulay's speculations from an appreciation of the deep hostility to the monarchy from which they arise. they are like bubbles on the surface of a dark pool, which indicate there is something rotten below. we should if we had time have many other complaints to make of the details of this chapter, which are deeply coloured with all mr. macaulay's prejudices and passions. he is, we may almost say of course, violent and unjust against strafford and clarendon; and the most prominent touch of candour that we can find in this period of his history is, that he slurs over the murder of laud in an abscure half-line (i. ) as if he were--as we hope he really is--ashamed of it. we now arrive at what we have heard called the celebrated third chapter --celebrated it deserves to be, and we hope our humble observations may add something to its celebrity. there is no feature of mr. macaulay's book on which, we believe, he more prides himself, and which has been in truth more popular with his readers, than the descriptions which he introduces of the residences, habits, and manners of our ancestors. they are, provided you do not look below the surface, as entertaining as pepys or pennant, or any of the many scrap-book histories which have been recently fabricated from those old materials; but when we come to examine them, we find that in these cases, as everywhere else, mr. macaulay's propensity to caricature and exaggerate leads him not merely to disfigure circumstances, but totally to forget the principle on which such episodes are admissible into regular history--namely, the illustration of the story. they should be, as it were, woven into the narrative, and not, as mr. macaulay generally treats them, stitched on like patches. this latter observation does not of course apply to the collecting a body of miscellaneous facts into a separate chapter, as hume and others have done; but mr. macaulay's chapter, besides, as we shall show, the prevailing inaccuracy of its details, has one general and essential defect specially its own. the moment mr. macaulay has selected for suspending his narrative to take a view of the surface and society of england is the death of charles ii. now we think no worse point of time could have been chosen for tracing the obscure but very certain connection between political events and the manners of a people. the restoration, for instance, was an era in manners as well as in politics--so was in a fainter degree the revolution--either, or both, of those periods would have afforded a natural position for contemplating a going and a coming order of things; but we believe that there are no two periods in our annals which were so identical in morals and politics--so undistinguishable, in short, in any national view--as the latter years of charles and the earlier years of james. here then is an objection _in limine_ to this famous chapter--and not _in limine_ only, but in substance; for in fact the period he has chosen would not have furnished out the chapter, four-fifths of which belong to a date later than that which he professes to treat of. in short, the chapter is like an old curiosity-shop, into which--no matter whether it happens to stand in charles street, william street, or george street--the knick-knacks of a couple of centuries are promiscuously jumbled. what does it signify, in a history of the reign of charles ii, that a writer, "_sixty years after the revolution_" (i. ), says that in the lodging-houses at bath "the hearth-slabs" were "freestone, not marble"--that "the best apartments were hung with coarse woollen stuff, and furnished with rush-bottomed chairs"?--nay, that he should have the personal good taste to lament that in those boeotian days "_not a wainscot was painted_" ( ); and yet this twaddle of the reign of george ii, patched into the times of charles ii, is the appropriate occasion which he takes to panegyrise this new mode of elucidating history?--... it is a curious and, to persons of our opinions, not unsatisfactory circumstance, that, though mr. macaulay almost invariably applies the term _tory_ in an opprobrious or contemptuous sense, yet so great is the power of truth in surmounting the fantastical forms and colours laid over it by this brilliant _badigeonneur_, that on the whole no one, we believe, can rise from the work without a conviction that the tories (whatever may be said of their prejudices) were the honestest and most conscientious of the whole _dramatis personae_; and it is this fact that in several instances and circumstances imprints, as it were by force, upon mr. macaulay's pages an air of impartiality and candour very discordant from their general spirit. we are now arrived at the fourth chapter--really the first, strictly speaking, of mr. macaulay's history--the accession of james ii, where also sir james mackintosh's history commences. and here we have to open to our readers the most extraordinary instance of _parallelism_ between two writers, unacknowledged by the later one, which we have ever seen. sir james mackintosh left behind him a history of the revolution, which was published in , three years after his death, in quarto: it comes down to the orange invasion, and, though it apparently had not received the author's last corrections, and was clumsily edited, and tagged with a continuation by a less able hand, the work is altogether (bating not a little ultra-whiggery) very creditable to mackintosh's diligence, taste, and power of writing; it is indeed, we think, his best and most important work, and that by which he will be most favourably known to posterity. from that work mr. macaulay has borrowed largely--prodigally-- helped himself with both hands--not merely without acknowledging his obligation, but without so much as alluding to the existence of any such work. nay--though this we are sure was never designed--he inserts a note full of kindness and respect to sir james mackintosh, which would naturally lead an uninformed reader to conclude that sir james mackintosh, though he had _meditated_ such a work, had never even begun writing it. on the st page of mr. macaulay's first volume, at the mention of the old news-letters which preceded our modern newspapers, mr. macaulay says, that "they form a valuable part of the literary treasures collected by the late sir james mackintosh"; and to this he adds the following foot-note: i take this opportunity of expressing my warm gratitude to the family of my dear and honoured friend sir james mackintosh, for confiding to me the materials collected by him _at a time when he meditated a work similar to that which i have undertaken._ i have never seen, and i do not believe that there anywhere exists, within the same compass, so noble a _collection of extracts_ from public and private archives. the judgment with which sir james, in great masses of the rudest ore of history, selected what was valuable and rejected what was worthless, can be fully appreciated only by one who has toiled after him in the same mine.--i. . could any one imagine from this that mackintosh had not only _meditated_ a work, but actually written, and that his friends had published, a large closely printed quarto volume, on the same subject, from the same materials, and sometimes in the very same words as mr. macaulay's? the coincidence--the identity, we might almost say--of the two works is so great, that, while we have been comparing them, we have often been hardly able to distinguish which was which. we rest little on the similiarity of facts, for the facts were ready made for both; and mr. macaulay tells us that he worked from mackintosh's materials; there would, therefore, even if he had never seen mackintosh's work, be a community of topics and authorities; but, seeing as we do in every page that he was writing with mackintosh's volume before his eyes, we cannot account for his utter silence about it.... having thus shown mr. macaulay's mode of dealing with what forms the chief and most characteristic feature of his book--its anecdotical gossip--we shall now endeavour to exhibit the deceptive style in which he treats the larger historical facts: in truth the style is the same--a general and unhesitating sacrifice of accuracy and reality to picturesque effect and party prejudices. he treats historical personages as the painter does his _layman_--a supple figure which he models into what he thinks the most striking attitude, and dresses up with the gaudiest colours and most fantastical draperies. it is very difficult to condense into any manageable space the proofs of a general system of accumulating and aggravating all that was ever, whether truly or falsely, reproached to the tories, and alleviating towards the whigs the charges which he cannot venture to deny or even to question. the mode in which this is managed so as to keep up some show of impartiality is very dexterous. the reproach, well or ill founded, which he thinks most likely to damage the character of any one he dislikes, is repeated over and over again in hope that the iteration will at last be taken for proof, such as the perfidy of charles i, the profligacy and selfishness of charles ii, the cold and cruel stupidity of james, the baseness of churchill, the indecent violence of rochester, the contemptible subserviency of his brother, clarendon, and so on through a whole dictionary of abuse on every one whom he takes or mistakes for a tory, and on a few whigs whom for some special reasons of his own he treats like tories. on the other hand, when he finds himself reluctantly forced to acknowledge even the greatest enormity of the whigs--corruption--treason--murder he finds much gentler terms for the facts; selects a scapegoat, some subaltern villain, or some one whom history has already gibbeted, "to bear upon him all their iniquities," and that painful sacrifice once made, he avoids with tender care a recurrence to so disagreeable a subject.... after so much political detail it will be some kind of diversion to our readers to examine mr. macaulay's most elaborate strategic and topographical effort, worked up with all the combined zeal and skill of an ex-secretary-at-war and a pictorial historian--a copious description of the battle of sedgemoor. mr. macaulay seems to have visited bridgwater with a zeal worthy of a better result: for it has produced a description of the surrounding country as pompous and detailed as if it had been the scene of some grand strategic operations--a parade not merely unnecessary, but absurd, for the so-called battle was but a bungling skirmish. monmouth had intended to surprise the king's troops in their quarters by a midnight attack, but was stopped by a wide and deep trench, of which he was not apprised, called bussex rhine, behind which the king's army lay. "the trenches which drain the moor are," mr. macaulay adds, "in that country called _rhines_." on each side of this ditch the parties stood firing at each other in the dark. lord grey and the cavalry ran away without striking a blow; monmouth followed them, too, soon; for some time the foot stood with a degree of courage and steadiness surprising in such raw and half-armed levies; at last the king's cavalry got round their flank, and they too ran: the king's foot then crossed the ditch with little or no resistance, and slaughtered, with small loss on their own side, a considerable number of the fugitives, the rest escaping back to bridgwater. our readers will judge whether such a skirmish required a long preliminary description of the surrounding country. mr. macaulay might just as usefully have described the plain of troy. indeed at the close of his long topographical and etymological narrative mr. macaulay has the tardy candour to confess that-- little is now to be learned by visiting the field of battle, for the face of the country has been greatly changed, and the old _bussex rhine_, on the banks of which the great struggle took place, has long disappeared. this is droll. after spending a deal of space and fine writing in describing the present prospect, he concludes by telling us candidly it is all of no use, for the whole scene has changed. this is like walpole's story of the french lady who asked for her lover's picture; and when he demurred observing that, if her husband were to see it, it might betray their secret--"o dear, no," she said--just like mr. macaulay--"i _will have the picture_, but it _need not be like_!" but even as to the change, we again doubt mr. macaulay's accuracy. the word _rhine_ in somersetshire, as perhaps--_parva componere magnis_--in the great german river, means _running_ water, and we therefore think it very unlikely that a running stream should have disappeared; but we also find in the ordnance survey of somersetshire, made in our own time, the course and name of _bussck's rhine_ distinctly laid down in front of weston, where it probably ran in monmouth's day; and we are further informed, in return to some inquiries that we have caused to be made, that the _rhine_ is now, in , as visible and well known as ever it was. but this grand piece of the military topography of a battlefield where there was no battle must have its picturesque and pathetic episode, and mr. macaulay finds one well suited to such a novel. when monmouth had made up his mind to attempt to _surprise_ the royal army, mr. macaulay is willing (for a purpose which we shall see presently) to persuade himself that the duke let the whole town into his secret:-- that an attack was to be made under cover of the night was no secret in bridgwater. the town was full of women, who had repaired thither by hundreds from the surrounding region to see their husbands, sons, lovers, and brothers once more. there were many sad partings that day; and many parted never to meet again. the report of the intended attack came to the ears of a young girl who was zealous for the king. though of modest character, she had the courage to resolve that she would herself bear the intelligence to feversham. she stole out of bridgwater, and made her way to the royal camp. but that camp was not a place where female innocence could be safe. even the officers, despising alike the irregular force to which they were opposed, and the negligent general who commanded them, had indulged largely in wine, and were ready for any excess of licentiousness and cruelty. one of them seized the unhappy maiden, refused to listen to her errand, and brutally outraged her. she fled in agonies of rage and shame, leaving the wicked army to its doom.--i. , . --the _doom of the wicked army_, be it noted _en passant_, being a complete victory. mr. macaulay cites kennett for this story, and adds that he is "_forced_ to believe the story to be true, because kennett declares that it was communicated to him in the year by a brave officer who had fought at sedgemoor, and had himself seen the poor girl depart in an agony of distress,"--_ib_. we shall not dwell on the value of an anonymous story told _three-and-thirty years_ after the battle of sedgemoor. the tale is sufficiently refuted by notorious facts and dates, and indeed by its internal absurdity. we know from the clear and indisputable evidence of wade, who commanded monmouth's infantry, all the proceedings of that day. monmouth no doubt intended to move that night, and made open preparation for it, and the partings so pathetically described may have, therefore, taken place, and the rather because the intended movement was to leave that part of the country altogether--_not_ to meet the king's troops, but to endeavour to escape them by a forced march across the avon and into gloucestershire. so far might have been known. but about _three_ o'clock that afternoon monmouth received intelligence by a spy that the king's troops had advanced to sedgemoor, but had taken their positions so injudiciously, that there seemed a possibility of surprising them in a night attack. on this monmouth assembled a council of war, which agreed that, instead of retreating that night towards the avon as they had intended, they should advance and attack, provided the spy, who was to be sent out to a new reconnoissance, should report that the troops were not intrenched. we may be sure that--as the news only arrived at three in the afternoon--the assembling the council of war--the deliberation-- the sending back the spy--his return and another deliberation--must have protracted the final decision to so late an hour that evening, that it is utterly impossible that the change of the design of a march northward to that of an "_attack to be made under cover of the night_," could have been that _morning_ no secret in bridgwater. but our readers see it was necessary for mr. macaulay to raise this fable, in order to account for the poor girl's knowing so important a secret. so far we have argued the case on mr. macaulay's own showing, which, we confess, was very incautious on our part; but on turning to his authority we find, as usual, a story essentially different. kennett says-- a brave captain in the horse guards, now living ( ), was in the action at sedgemoor, and gave me the account of it:--that on _sunday morning, july _, a young woman came from monmouth's quarters to give notice of his design to surprise the king's camp _that night_; but this young woman being carried to a chief officer in a neighbouring village, she was led upstairs and debauched by him, and, coming down in a great fright and disorder (as he himself saw her), she went back, and her message was not told.--_kennett_, in. . this knocks the whole story on the head. kennett was not aware (wade's narrative not being published when he wrote) that the king's troops did not come in sight of sedgemoor till about three o'clock p.m. of that sunday on the early morning of which he places the girl's visit to the camp, and it was not till late that same evening that monmouth changed his original determination, and formed the sudden resolution with which, to support kennett's story, the whole town must have been acquainted at least twelve hours before. these are considerations which ought not to have escaped a philosophical historian who had the advantage, which kennett had not, of knowing the exact time when these details occurred.... we must here conclude. we have exhausted our time and our space, but not our topics. we have selected such of the more prominent defects and errors of mr. macaulay as were manageable within our limits; but numerous as they are, we beg that they may be considered as specimens only of the infinitely larger assortment that the volumes would afford, and be read not merely as individual instances, but as indications of the general style of the work, and the prevailing _animus_ of the writer. we have chiefly directed our attention to points of mere historical inaccuracy and infidelity; but they are combined with a greater admixture of other--we know not whether to call them literary or moral--defects, than the insulated passages sufficiently exhibit. these faults, as we think them, but which may to some readers be the prime fascinations of the work, abound on its surface. and their very number and their superficial prominence constitute a main charge against the author, and prove, we think, his mind to be unfitted for the severity of historical inquiry. he takes much pains to parade--perhaps he really believes in--his impartiality, with what justice we appeal to the foregoing pages; but he is guilty of a prejudice as injurious in its consequences to truth as any political bias. he abhors whatever is not in itself picturesque, while he clings with the tenacity of a novelist to the _piquant_ and the startling. whether it be the boudoir of a strumpet or the death-bed of a monarch--the strong character of a statesman-warrior abounding in contrasts and rich in mystery, or the personal history of a judge trained in the old bailey to vulgarize and ensanguine the king's bench--he luxuriates with a vigour and variety of language and illustration which renders his "history" an attractive and absorbing story-book. and so spontaneously redundant are these errors-- so inwoven in the very texture of mr. macaulay's mind--that he seems never able to escape from them. even after the reader is led to believe that all that can be said either of praise or vituperation as to character, of voluptuous description and minute delineation as to fact and circumstance, has been passed in review before him--when a new subject, indeed, seems to have been started--all at once the old theme is renewed, and the old ideas are redressed in all the affluent imagery and profuse eloquence of which mr. macaulay is so eminent a master. now of the fancy and fashion of this we should not complain--quite the contrary--in a professed novel: there is a theatre in which it would be exquisitely appropriate and attractive; but the temple of history is not the floor for a morris-dance--the muse clio is not to be worshipped in the halls of terpsichore. we protest against this species of _carnival_ history; no more like the reality than the eglintoun tournament or the costume quadrilles of buckingham palace; and we deplore the squandering of so much melodramatic talent on a subject which we have hitherto reverenced as the figure of truth arrayed in the simple argments [transcriber's note: sic] of philosophy. we are ready to admit an hundred times over mr. macaulay's literary powers--brilliant even under the affectation with which he too frequently disfigures them. he is a great painter, but a suspicious narrator; a grand proficient in the picturesque, but a very poor professor of the historic. these volumes have been, and his future volumes as they appear will be, devoured with the same eagerness that _oliver twist_ or _vanity fair_ excite--with the same quality of zest, though perhaps with a higher degree of it;--but his pages will seldom, we think, receive a second perusal--and the work, we apprehend, will hardly find a permanent place on the historic shelf-- nor ever assuredly, if continued in the spirit of the first two volumes, be quoted as authority on any question or point of the history of england. lockhart on the author of "vathek"[ ] [from _the quarterly review_, june, ] [ ] "italy: with sketches of spain and portugal. in a series of letters written during a residence in these countries." by william beckford, esq., author of _vathek_. london, . vathek is, indeed, without reference to the time of life [before he had closed his twentieth year] when the author penned it, a very remarkable performance; but, like most of the works of the great poet (byron) who has eloquently praised it, it is stained with poison-spots--its inspiration is too often such as might have been inhaled in the "hall of eblis." we do not allude so much to its audacious licentiousness, as to the diabolical levity of its contempt for mankind. the boy-author appears to have already rubbed all the bloom off his heart; and, in the midst of his dazzling genius, one trembles to think that a stripling of years so tender should have attained the cool cynicism of a _candide_. how different is the effect of that eastern tale of our own days, which lord byron ought not to have forgotten when he was criticising his favourite romance. how perfectly does _thalaba_ realize the ideal demanded in the welsh triad, of "fulness of erudition, simplicity of language, and purity of manners." but the critic was repelled by the purity of that delicious creation, more than attracted by the erudition which he must have respected, and the diction which he could not but admire-- the low sweet voice so musical, that with such deep and undefined delight fills the surrender'd soul. it has long been known that mr. beckford prepared, shortly after the publication of his _vathek_, some other tales in the same vein--the histories, it is supposed, of the princes in his "hall of eblis." a rumour had also prevailed, that the author drew up, early in life, some account of his travels in various parts of the world; nay, that he had printed a few copies of this account, and that its private perusal had been eminently serviceable to more than one of the most popular poets of the present age. but these were only vague reports; and mr. beckford, after achieving, on the verge of manhood, a literary reputation, which, however brilliant, could not satisfy the natural ambition of such an intellect--seemed, for more than fifty years, to have wholly withdrawn himself from the only field of his permanent distinction. the world heard enough of his gorgeous palace at cintra (described in _childe harold_), afterwards of the unsubstantial pageant of his splendour at fonthill, and latterly of his architectural caprices at bath. but his literary name seemed to have belonged to another age; and, perhaps, in this point of view, it may not have been unnatural for lord byron, when comparing _vathek_ with other eastern tales, to think rather of _zadig_ and _rasselas_, than of thalaba--the wild and wondrous song. the preface to the present volumes informs us that they include a reprint of the book of travels, of which a small private edition passed through the press forty years ago, and of the existence of which--though many of our readers must have heard some hints--few could have had any _knowledge_. mr. beckford has at length been induced to publish his letters, in order to vindicate his own original claim to certain thoughts, images, and expressions, which had been adopted by other authors whom he had from time to time received beneath his roof, and indulged with a perusal of his secret lucubrations. the mere fact that such a work has lain for near half-a-century, printed but unpublished, would be enough to stamp the author's personal character as not less extraordinary than his genius. it is, indeed, sufficiently obvious that mr. rogers had read it before he wrote his "italy "--a poem, however, which possesses so many exquisite beauties entirely its own, that it may easily afford to drop the honour of some, perhaps unconsciously, appropriated ones; and we are also satisfied that this book had passed through mr. moore's hands before he gave us his light and graceful "rhymes on the road," though the traces of his imitation are rarer than those which must strike everyone who is familiar with the "italy." we are not so sure as to lord byron; but, although we have not been able to lay our finger on any one passage in which he has evidently followed mr. beckford's vein, it will certainly rather surprise us should it hereafter be made manifest that he had not seen, or at least heard an account of, this performance, before he conceived the general plan of his "childe harold." mr. beckford's book is entirely unlike any book of travel _in prose_ that exists in any european language; and if we could fancy lord byron to have written the "harold" in the measure of "don juan," and to have availed himself of the facilities which the _ottima rima_ affords for intermingling high poetry with merriment of all sorts, and especially with sarcastic sketches of living manners, we believe the result would have been a work more nearly akin to that now before us than any other in the library. mr. beckford, like "harold," passes through various regions of the world, and, disdaining to follow the guide-book, presents his reader with a series of detached, or very slenderly connected sketches of _the scenes that had made the deepest impression upon himself_. he, when it suits him, puts the passage of the alps into a parenthesis. on one occasion, he really treats rome as if it had been nothing more than a post station on the road from florence to naples; but, again, if the scenery and people take his fancy, "he has a royal reluctance to move on, as his own hero showed when his eye glanced on the grands caractères rouges, tracés par la main de carathis?... _qui me donnera des loix_?-- s'écria le caliphe." "england's wealthiest son" performs his travels, of course, in a style of great external splendour. conspictuus longé cunctisque notabilis intrat-- courts and palaces, as well as convents and churches, and galleries of all sorts, fly open at his approach: he is caressed in every capital--he is _fêté_ in every château. but though he appears amidst such accompaniments with all the airiness of a juan, he has a thread of the blackest of harold in his texture; and every now and then seems willing to draw a veil between him and the world of vanities. he is a poet, and a great one too, though we know not that he ever wrote a line of verse. his rapture amidst the sublime scenery of mountains and forests--in the tyrol especially, and in spain--is that of a spirit cast originally in one of nature's finest moulds; and he fixes it in language which can scarcely be praised beyond its deserts--simple, massive, nervous, apparently little laboured, yet revealing, in its effect, the perfection of art. some immortal passages in gray's letters and byron's diaries, are the only things, in our tongue, that seem to us to come near the profound melancholy, blended with a picturesqueness of description at once true and startling, of many of these extraordinary pages. nor is his sense for the _highest_ beauty of art less exquisite. he seems to describe classical architecture, and the pictures of the great italian schools, with a most passionate feeling of the grand, and with an inimitable grace of expression. on the other hand, he betrays, in a thousand places, a settled voluptuousness of temperament, and a capricious recklessness of self-indulgence, which will lead the world to identify him henceforth with his _vathek_, as inextricably as it has long since connected harold with the poet that drew him; and then, that there may be no limit to the inconsistencies of such a strange genius, this spirit, at once so capable of the noblest enthusiasm, and so dashed with the gloom of over-pampered luxury, can stoop to chairs and china, ever and anon, with the zeal of an auctioneer--revel in the design of a clock or a candlestick, and be as ecstatic about a fiddler or a soprano as the fools in hogarth's _concert_. on such occasions he reminds us, and will, we think, remind everyone, of the lord of strawberry hill. but even here all we have is on a grander scale. the oriental prodigality of his magnificence shines out even in trifles. he buys a library where the other would have cheapened a missal. he is at least a male horace walpole; as superior to the "silken baron," as fonthill, with its york-like tower embosomed among hoary forests, was to that silly band-box which may still be admired on the road to twickenham ... we have no discussions of any consequence in these volumes: even the ultra-aristocratical opinions and feelings of the author--who is, we presume, a whig--are rather hinted than avowed. from a thousand passing sneers, we may doubt whether he has any religion at all; but still he _may_ be only thinking of the outward and visible absurdities of popery--therefore we have hardly a pretext for treating these matters seriously. in short, this is meant to be, as he says in his preface, nothing but a "book of light reading"; and though no one can read it without having many grave enough feelings roused and agitated within him, there are really no passages to provoke or justify any detailed criticism either as to morals or politics ... we risk nothing in predicting that mr. beckford's _travels_ will henceforth be classed among the most elegant productions of modern literature: they will be forthwith translated into every language of the continent--and will keep his name alive, centuries after all the brass and marble he ever piled together have ceased to vibrate with the echoes of _modenhas_. on coleridge [from _the quarterly review_, august, ] _the poetical works of s.t. coleridge_. vols. mo. london, . let us be indulged, in the mean time, in this opportunity of making a few remarks on the genius of the extraordinary man whose poems, now for the first time completely collected, are named at the head of this article. the larger part of this publication is, of course, of old date, and the author still lives; yet, besides the considerable amount of new matter in this edition, which might of itself, in the present dearth of anything eminently original in verse, justify our notice, we think the great, and yet somewhat hazy, celebrity of coleridge, and the ill-understood character of his poetry, will be, in the opinion of a majority of our readers, more than an excuse for a few elucidatory remarks upon the subject. idolized by many, and used without scruple by more, the poet of "christabel" and the "ancient mariner" is but little truly known in that common literary world, which, without the prerogative of conferring fame hereafter, can most surely give or prevent popularity for the present. in that circle he commonly passes for a man of genius, who has written some very beautiful verses, but whose original powers, whatever they were, have been long since lost or confounded in the pursuit of metaphysic dreams. we ourselves venture to think very differently of mr. coleridge, both as a poet and a philosopher, although we are well enough aware that nothing which we can say will, as matters now stand, much advance his chance of becoming a fashionable author. indeed, as we rather believe, we should earn small thanks from him for our happiest exertions in such a cause; for certainly, of all the men of letters whom it has been our fortune to know, we never met any one who was so utterly regardless of the reputation of the mere author as mr. coleridge--one so lavish and indiscriminate in the exhibition of his own intellectual wealth before any and every person, no matter who--one so reckless who might reap where he had most prodigally sown and watered. "god knows,"--as we once heard him exclaim upon the subject of his unpublished system of philosophy,--"god knows, i have no author's vanity about it. i should be absolutely glad if i could hear that the _thing_ had been done before me." it is somewhere told of virgil, that he took more pleasure in the good verses of varius and horace than in his own. we would not answer for that; but the story has always occurred to us, when we have seen mr. coleridge criticising and amending the work of a contemporary author with much more zeal and hilarity than we ever perceived him to display about anything of his own. perhaps our readers may have heard repeated a saying of mr. wordsworth, that many men of this age had done wonderful _things_, as davy, scott, cuvier, &c.; but that coleridge was the only wonderful _man_ he ever knew. something, of course, must be allowed in this as in all other such cases for the antithesis; but we believe the fact really to be, that the greater part of those who have occasionally visited mr. coleridge have left him with a feeling akin to the judgment indicated in the above remark. they admire the man more than his works, or they forget the works in the absorbing impression made by the living author. and no wonder. those who remember him in his more vigorous days can bear witness to the peculiarity and transcendant power of his conversational eloquence. it was unlike anything that could be heard elsewhere; the kind was different, the degree was different, the manner was different. the boundless range of scientific knowledge, the brilliancy and exquisite nicety of illustration, the deep and ready reasoning, the strangeness and immensity of bookish lore--were not all; the dramatic story, the joke, the pun, the festivity, must be added--and with these the clerical-looking dress, the thick waving silver hair, the youthful-coloured cheek, the indefinable mouth and lips, the quick yet steady and penetrating greenish grey eye, the slow and continuous enunciation, and the everlasting music of his tones,--all went to make up the image and constitute the living presence of the man. he is now no longer young, and bodily infirmities, we regret to know, have pressed heavily upon him. his natural force is indeed abated; but his eye is not dim, neither is his mind yet enfeebled. "o youth!" he says in one of the most exquisitely finished of his later poems-- o youth! for years so many and sweet, 'tis known that thou and i were one, i'll think it but a fond conceit-- it cannot be that thou art gone! thy vesper bell hath not yet tolled:-- and thou wert aye a masker bold! what strange disguise hast now put on, to make believe that thou art gone? i see these locks in silvery slips, this drooping gait, this altered size;-- but springtide blossoms on thy lips, and tears take sunshine from thine eyes! life is but thought: so think i will that youth and i are house-mates still. mr. coleridge's conversation, it is true, has not now all the brilliant versatility of his former years; yet we know not whether the contrast between his bodily weakness and his mental power does not leave a deeper and more solemnly affecting impression, than his most triumphant displays in youth could ever have done. to see the pain-stricken countenance relax, and the contracted frame dilate under the kindling of intellectual fire alone--to watch the infirmities of the flesh shrinking out of sight, or glorified and transfigured in the brightness of the awakening spirit--is an awful object of contemplation; and in no other person did we ever witness such a distinction,--nay, alienation of mind from body,--such a mastery of the purely intellectual over the purely corporeal, as in the instance of this remarkable man. even now his conversation is characterized by all the essentials of its former excellence; there is the same individuality, the same _unexpectedness_, the same universal grasp; nothing is too high, nothing too low for it: it glances from earth to heaven, from heaven to earth, with a speed and a splendour, an ease and a power, which almost seem inspired: yet its universality is not of the same kind with the superficial ranging of the clever talkers whose criticism and whose information are called forth by, and spent upon, the particular topics in hand. no; in this more, perhaps, than in anything else is mr. coleridge's discourse distinguished: that it springs from an inner centre, and illustrates by light from the soul. his thoughts are, if we may so say, as the radii of a circle, the centre of which may be in the petals of a rose, and the circumference as wide as the boundary of things visible and invisible. in this it was that we always thought another eminent light of our time, recently lost to us, an exact contrast to mr. coleridge as to quality and style of conversation. you could not in all london or england hear a more fluent, a more brilliant, a more exquisitely elegant converser than sir james mackintosh; nor could you ever find him unprovided. but, somehow or other, it always seemed as if all the sharp and brilliant things he said were poured out of so many vials filled and labelled for the particular occasion; it struck us, to use a figure, as if his mind were an ample and well-arranged _hortus siccus_, from which you might have specimens of every kind of plant, but all of them cut and dried for store. you rarely saw nature working at the very moment in him. with coleridge it was and still is otherwise. he may be slower, more rambling, less pertinent; he may not strike at the instant as so eloquent; but then, what he brings forth is fresh coined; his flowers are newly gathered, they are wet with dew, and, if you please, you may almost see them growing in the rich garden of his mind. the projection is visible; the enchantment is done before your eyes. to listen to mackintosh was to inhale perfume; it pleased, but did not satisfy. the effect of an hour with coleridge is to set you thinking; his words haunt you for a week afterwards; they are spells, brightenings, revelations. in short, it is, if we may venture to draw so bold a line, the whole difference between talent and genius. a very experienced short-hand writer was employed to take down mr. coleridge's lectures on shakespeare, but the manuscript was almost entirely unintelligible. yet the lecturer was, as he always is, slow and measured. the writer--we have some notion it was no worse an artist than mr. gurney himself--gave this account of the difficulty: that with regard to every other speaker whom he had ever heard, however rapid or involved, he could almost always, by long experience in his art, guess the form of the latter part, or apodosis, of the sentence by the form of the beginning; but that the conclusion of every one of coleridge's sentences was a _surprise_ upon him. he was obliged to listen to the last word. yet this unexpectedness, as we termed it before, is not the effect of quaintness or confusion of construction; so far from it, that we believe foreigners of different nations, especially germans and italians, have often borne very remarkable testimony to the grammatical purity and simplicity of his language, and have declared that they generally understood what he said much better than the sustained conversation of any other englishman whom they had met. it is the uncommonness of the thoughts or the image which prevents your anticipating the end. we owe, perhaps, an apology to our readers for the length of the preceding remarks; but the fact is, so very much of the intellectual life and influence of mr. coleridge has consisted in the oral communication of his opinions, that no sketch could be reasonably complete without a distinct notice of the peculiar character of his powers in this particular. we believe it has not been the lot of any other literary man in england, since dr. johnson, to command the devoted admiration and steady zeal of so many and such widely differing disciples--some of them having become, and others being likely to become, fresh and independent sources of light and moral action in themselves upon the principles of their common master. one half of these affectionate disciples have learned their lessons of philosophy from the teacher's mouth. he has been to them as an old oracle of the academy or lyceum. the fulness, the inwardness, the ultimate scope of his doctrines has never yet been published in print, and if disclosed, it has been from time to time in the higher moments of conversation, when occasion, and mood, and person begot an exalted crisis. more than once has mr. coleridge said, that with pen in hand, he felt a thousand checks and difficulties in the expression of his meaning; but that--authorship aside--he never found the smallest hitch or impediment in the fullest utterance of his most subtle fancies by word of mouth. his abstrusest thoughts became rhythmical and clear when chaunted to their own music. but let us proceed now to the publication before us. this is the first complete collection of the poems of samuel taylor coleridge. the addition to the last edition is not less than a fourth of the whole, and the greatest part of this matter has never been printed before. it consists of many juvenile pieces, a few of the productions of the poet's middle life, and more of his later years. with regard to the additions of the first class, we should not be surprised to hear friendly doubts expressed as to the judgment shown in their publication. we ourselves think otherwise; and we are very glad to have had an opportunity of perusing them. there may be nothing in these earlier pieces upon which a poet's reputation could be built; yet they are interesting now as measuring the boyish powers of a great author. we never read any juvenile poems that so distinctly foretokened the character of all that the poet has since done; in particular, the very earliest and loosest of these little pieces indicate that unintermitting thoughtfulness, and that fine ear for verbal harmony in which we must venture to think that not one of our modern poets approaches to coleridge. * * * * * we, of course, cite these lines for little besides their luxurious smoothness; and it is very observable, that although the indications of the more strictly intellectual qualities of a great poet are very often extremely faint, as in byron's case, in early youth,--it is universally otherwise with regard to high excellence in _versification_ considered apart and by itself. like the ear for music, the sense of metrical melody is always a natural gift; both indeed are evidently connected with the physical arrangement of the organs, and never to be acquired by any effort of art. when possessed, they by no means necessarily lead on to the achievement of consummate harmony in music or in verse; and yet consummate harmony in either has never been found where the natural gift has not made itself conspicuous long before. spenser's hymns, and shakespeare's "venus and adonis," and "rape of lucrece," are striking instances of the overbalance of mere sweetness of sound. even "comus" is what we should, in this sense, call luxurious; and all four gratify the outward ear much more than that inner and severer sense which is associated with the reason, and requires a meaning even in the very music for its full satisfaction. compare the versification of the youthful pieces mentioned above with that of the maturer works of those great poets, and you will recognize how possible it is for verses to be exquisitely melodious, and yet to fall far short of that exalted excellence of numbers of which language is in itself capable. you will feel the simple truth, that melody is a part only of harmony. those early flashes were indeed auspicious tokens of the coming glory, and involved some of the conditions and elements of its existence; but the rhythm of the "faerie queene" and of "paradise lost" was also the fruit of a distinct effort of uncommon care and skill. the endless variety of the pauses in the versification of these poems could not have been the work of chance, and the adaptation of words with reference to their asperity, or smoothness, or strength, is equally refined and scientific. unless we make a partial exception of the "castle of indolence," we do not remember a single instance of the reproduction of the exact rhythm of the spenserian stanza, especially of the concluding line. the precise miltonic movement in blank verse has never, to our knowledge, been caught by any later poet. it is mr. coleridge's own strong remark, that you might as well think of pushing a brick out of a wall with your forefinger, as attempt to remove a word out of the finished passages in shakespeare or milton. the motion or transposition will alter the thought, or the feeling, or at least the tone. they are as pieces of mosaic work, from which you cannot strike the smallest block without making a hole in the picture. and so it is--in due proportion--with coleridge's best poems. they are distinguished in a remarkable degree by the perfection of their rhythm and metrical arrangement. the labour bestowed upon this point must have been very great; the tone and quantity of words seem weighed in scales of gold. it will, no doubt, be considered ridiculous by the fannii and fanniae of our day to talk of varying the trochee with the iambus, or of resolving either into the tribrach. yet it is evident to us that these, and even minuter points of accentual scansion, have been regarded by mr. coleridge as worthy of study and observation. we do not, of course, mean that rules of this kind were always in his mind while composing, any more than that an expert disputant is always thinking of the distinctions of mood and figure, whilst arguing; but we certainly believe that mr. coleridge has almost from the commencement of his poetic life looked upon versification as constituting in and by itself a much more important branch of the art poetic than most of his eminent contemporaries appear to have done. and this more careful study shows itself in him in no technical peculiarities or fantastic whims, against which the genius of our language revolts; but in a more exact adaptation of the movement to the feeling, and in a finer selection of particular words with reference to their local fitness for sense and sound. some of his poems are complete models of versification, exquisitely easy to all appearance, and subservient to the meaning, and yet so subtle in the links and transitions of the parts as to make it impossible to produce the same effect merely by imitating the syllabic metre as it stands on the surface. the secret of the sweetness lies within, and is involved in the feeling. it is this remarkable power of making his verse musical that gives a peculiar character to mr. coleridge's lyric poems. in some of the smaller pieces, as the conclusion of the "kubla khan," for example, not only the lines by themselves are musical, but the whole passage sounds all at once as an outburst or crash of harps in the still air of autumn. the verses seem as if _played_ to the ear upon some unseen instrument. and the poet's manner of reciting verse is similar. it is not rhetorical, but musical: so very near recitative, that for any one else to attempt it would be ridiculous; and yet it is perfectly miraculous with what exquisite searching he elicits and makes sensible every particle of the meaning, not leaving a shadow of a shade of the feeling, the mood, the degree, untouched. we doubt if a finer rhapsode ever recited at the panathenaic festival; and the yet unforgotten doric of his native devon is not altogether without a mellowing effect in his utterance of greek. he would repeat the [greek: autar achilleus dakrusas, etaron aphar ezeto. k. t. l.] with such an interpreting accompaniment of look, and tone and gesture, that we believe any commonly-educated person might understand the import of the passage without knowing alpha from omega. a chapter of isaiah from his mouth involves the listener in an act of exalted devotion. we have mentioned this, to show how the whole man is made up of music; and yet mr. coleridge has no _ear_ for music, as it is technically called. master as he is of the intellectual recitative, he could not _sing_ an air to save his life. but his delight in music is intense and unweariable, and he can detect good from bad with unerring discrimination. poor naldi, whom most of us remember, and all who remember must respect, said to our poet once at a concert--"that he did not seem much interested with a piece of rossini's which had just been performed." coleridge answered, "it sounded to me exactly like _nonsense verses_. but this thing of beethoven's that they have begun--stop, let us listen to this, i beg!" ... the minute study of the laws and properties of metre is observable in almost every piece in these volumes. every kind of lyric measure, rhymed and unrhymed, is attempted with success; and we doubt whether, upon the whole, there are many specimens of the heroic couplet or blank verse superior in construction to what mr. coleridge has given us. we mention this the rather, because it was at one time, although that time is past, the fashion to say that the lake school--as two or three poets, essentially unlike to each other, were foolishly called--had abandoned the old and established measures of the english poetry for new conceits of their own. there was no truth in that charge; but we will say this, that, notwithstanding the prevalent opinion to the contrary, we are not sure, after perusing _some passages_ in mr. southey's "vision of judgment," and the entire "hymn to the earth," in hexameters, in the second of the volumes now before us, that the question of the total inadmissibility of that measure in english verse can be considered as finally settled; the true point not being whether such lines are as good as, or even like, the homeric or virgilian models, but whether they are not in themselves a pleasing variety, and on that account alone, if for nothing else, not to be rejected as wholly barbarous ... we should not have dwelt so long upon this point of versification, unless we had conceived it to be one distinguishing excellence of mr. coleridge's poetry, and very closely connected with another, namely, fulness and individuality of thought. it seems to be a fact, although we do not pretend to explain it, that condensation of meaning is generally found in poetry of a high import in proportion to perfection in metrical harmony. petrarch, spenser, shakespeare, and milton are obvious instances. goethe and coleridge are almost equally so. indeed, whether in verse, or prose, or conversation, mr. coleridge's mind may be fitly characterized as an energetic mind--a mind always at work, always in a course of reasoning. he cares little for anything, merely because it was or is; it must be referred, or be capable of being referred, to some law or principle, in order to attract his attention. this is not from ignorance of the facts of natural history or science. his written and published works alone sufficiently show how constantly and accurately he has been in the habit of noting all the phenomena of the material world around us; and the great philosophical system now at length in preparation for the press demonstrates, we are told, his masterly acquaintance with almost all the sciences, and with not a few of the higher and more genial of the arts. yet his vast acquirements of this sort are never put forward by or for themselves; it is in his apt and novel illustrations, his indications of analogies, his explanation of anomalies, that he enables the hearer or reader to get a glimpse of the extent of his practical knowledge. he is always reasoning out from an inner point, and it is the inner point, the principle, the law which he labours to bring forward into light. if he can convince you or himself of the principle _à priori_, he generally leaves the facts to take care of themselves. he leads us into the laboratories of art or nature as a showman guides you through a caravan crusted with spar and stalactites, all cold, and dim, and motionless, till he lifts his torch aloft, and on a sudden you gaze in admiration on walls and roof of flaming crystals and stars of eternal diamond. all this, whether for praise or for blame, is perceptible enough in mr. coleridge's verse, but perceptible, of course, in such degree and mode as the law of poetry in general, and the nature of the specific poem in particular, may require. but the main result from this frame and habit of his mind is very distinctly traceable in the uniform subjectivity of almost all his works. he does not belong to that grand division of poetry and poets which corresponds with painting and painters; or which pindar and dante are the chief;--those masters of the picturesque, who, by a felicity inborn, view and present everything in the completeness of actual objectivity--and who have a class derived from and congenial with them, presenting few pictures indeed, but always full of picturesque matter; of which secondary class spenser and southey may be mentioned as eminent instances. to neither of these does mr. coleridge belong; in his "christabel," there certainly are several _distinct pictures_ of great beauty; but he, as a poet, clearly comes within the other division which answers to music and the musician, in which you have a magnificent mirage of words with the subjective associations of the poet curling, and twisting, and creeping round, and through, and above every part of it. this is the class to which milton belongs, in whose poems we have heard mr. coleridge say that he remembered but two proper pictures--adam bending over the sleeping eve at the beginning of the fifth book of the "paradise lost," and delilah approaching samson towards the end of the "agonistes." but when we point out the intense personal feeling, the self-projection, as it were, which characterizes mr. coleridge's poems, we mean that such feeling is the soul and spirit, not the whole body and form, of his poetry. for surely no one has ever more earnestly and constantly borne in mind the maxim of milton, that poetry ought to be _simple, sensuous, and impassioned_. the poems in these volumes are no authority for that dreamy, half-swooning style of verse which was criticized by lord byron (in language too strong for print) as the fatal sin of mr. john keats, and which, unless abjured betimes, must prove fatal to several younger aspirants--male and female-- who for the moment enjoy some popularity. the poetry before us is distinct and clear, and accurate in its imagery; but the imagery is rarely or never exhibited for description's sake alone; it is rarely or never exclusively objective; that is to say, put forward as a spectacle, a picture on which the mind's eye is to rest and terminate. you may if your sight is short, or your imagination cold, regard the imagery in itself and go no farther; but the poet's intention is that you should feel and imagine a great deal more than you see. his aim is to awaken in the reader the same mood of mind, the same cast of imagination and fancy whence issued the associations which animate and enlighten his pictures. you must think with him, must sympathize with him, must suffer yourself to be lifted out of your own school of opinion or faith, and fall back upon your own consciousness, an unsophisticated man. if you decline this, _non tibi spirat_. from his earliest youth to this day, mr. coleridge's poetry has been a faithful mirror reflecting the images of his mind. hence he is so original, so individual. with a little trouble, the zealous reader of the "biographia literaria" may trace in these volumes the whole course of mental struggle and self-evolvement narrated in that odd but interesting work; but he will see the track marked in light; the notions become images, the images glorified, and not unfrequently the abstruse position stamped clearer by the poet than by the psychologist. no student of coleridge's philosophy can fully understand it without a perusal of the illumining, and if we may so say, _popularizing_ commentary of his poetry. it is the greek put into the vulgar tongue. and we must say, it is somewhat strange to hear any one condemn those philosophical principles as altogether unintelligible, which are inextricably interwoven in every page of a volume of poetry which he professes to admire.... to this habit of intellectual introversion we are very much inclined to attribute mr. coleridge's never having seriously undertaken a great heroic poem. the "paradise lost" may be thought to stand in the way of our laying down any general rule on the subject; yet that poem is as peculiar as milton himself, and does not materially affect our opinion, that the pure epic can hardly be achieved by the poet in whose mind the reflecting turn _greatly_ predominates. the extent of the action in such a poem requires a free and fluent stream of narrative verse; description, purely objective, must fill a large space in it, and its permanent success depends on a rapidity, or at least a liveliness, of movement which is scarcely compatible with much of what bacon calls _inwardness_ of meaning. the reader's attention could not be preserved; his journey being long, he expects his road to be smooth and unembarrassed. the condensed passion of the ode is out of place in heroic song. few persons will dispute that the two great homeric poems are the most delightful of epics; they may not have the sublimity of the "paradise lost," nor the picturesqueness of the "divine comedy," nor the etherial brilliancy of the "orlando"; but, dead as they are in language, metre, accent,--obsolete in religion, manners, costume, and country,-- they nevertheless even now _please_ all those who can read them beyond all other narrative poems. there is a salt in them which keeps them sweet and incorruptible throughout every change. they are the most popular of all the remains of ancient genius, and translations of them for the twentieth time are amongst the very latest productions of our contemporary literature. from beginning to end, these marvellous poems are exclusively objective; everything is in them, except the poet himself. it is not to vico or wolfe that we refer, when we say that _homer_ is _vox et praeterea nihil_; as musical as the nightingale, and as invisible.... the "remorse" and "zapolya" strikingly illustrate the predominance of the meditative, pausing habit of mr. coleridge's mind. the first of these beautiful dramas was acted with success, although worse acting was never seen. indeed, kelly's sweet music was the only part of the theatrical apparatus in any respect worthy of the play. the late mr. kean made some progress in the study of ordonio, with a view of reproducing the piece; and we think that mr. macready, either as ordonio or alvar, might, with some attention to music, costume, and scenery, make the representation attractive even in the present day. but in truth, taken absolutely and in itself, the "remorse" is more fitted for the study than the stage; its character is romantic and pastoral in a high degree, and there is a profusion of poetry in the minor parts, the effect of which could never be preserved in the common routine of representation. what this play wants is dramatic movement; there is energetic dialogue and a crisis of great interest, but the action does not sufficiently grow on the stage itself. perhaps, also, the purpose of alvar to waken remorse in ordonio's mind is put forward too prominently, and has too much the look of a mere moral experiment to be probable under the circumstances in which the brothers stand to each other. nevertheless, there is a calmness as well as superiority of intellect in alvar which seem to justify, in some measure, the sort of attempt on his part, which, in fact, constitutes the theme of the play; and it must be admitted that the whole underplot of isidore and alhadra is lively and affecting in the highest degree. we particularly refer to the last scene between ordonio and isidore in the cavern, which we think genuine shakespeare; and alhadra's narrative of her discovery of her husband's murder is not surpassed in truth and force by anything of the kind that we know.... we have not yet referred to the "ancient mariner," "christabel," the "odes on france," and the "departing year," or the "love poems." all these are well known by those who know no other parts of coleridge's poetry, and the length of our preceding remarks compels us to be brief in our notice. mrs. barbauld, meaning to be complimentary, told our poet, that she thought the "ancient mariner" very beautiful, but that it had the fault of containing no moral. "nay, madam," replied the poet, "if i may be permitted to say so, the only fault in the poem is that there is _too much_ in a work of such pure imagination i ought not to have stopped to give reasons for things, or inculcate humanity to beasts. 'the arabian nights' might have taught me better." they might-- the tale of the merchant's son who puts out the eyes of a genii by flinging his date-shells down a well, and is therefore ordered to prepare for death--might have taught this law of imagination; but the fault is small indeed; and the "ancient mariner" is, and will ever be, one of the most perfect pieces of imaginative poetry, not only in our language, but in the literature of all europe. we have, certainly, sometimes doubted whether the miraculous destruction of the vessel in the presence of the pilot and hermit, was not an error, in respect of its bringing the purely preternatural into too close contact with the actual frame-work of the poem. the only link between those scenes of out-of-the-world wonders, and the wedding guest, should, we rather suspect, have been the blasted, unknown being himself who described them. there should have been no other witnesses of the truth of any part of the tale, but the "ancient mariner" himself. this is by the way: but take the work altogether, there is nothing else like it; it is a poem by itself; between it and other compositions, in _pari materia_, there is a chasm which you cannot overpass; the sensitive reader feels himself insulated, and a sea of wonder and mystery flows round him as round the spell-stricken ship itself. it was a sad mistake in the ablest artist-- mr. scott, we believe--who in his engravings has made the ancient mariner an old decrepit man. that is not the true image; no! he should have been a growthless, decayless being, impassive to time or season, a silent cloud--the wandering jew. the curse of the dead men's eyes should not have passed away. but this was, perhaps, too much for any pencil, even if the artist had fully entered into the poet's idea. indeed, it is no subject for painting. the "ancient mariner" displays mr. coleridge's peculiar mastery over the wild and preternatural in a brilliant manner; but in his next poem, "christabel," the exercise of his power in this line is still more skilful and singular. the thing attempted in "christabel" is the most difficult of execution in the whole field of romance--witchery by daylight; and the success is complete. geraldine, so far as she goes, is perfect. she is _sui generis_. the reader feels the same terror and perplexity that christabel in vain struggles to express, and the same spell that fascinates her eyes. who and what is geraldine--whence come, whither going, and what designing? what did the poet mean to make of her? what could he have made of her? could he have gone on much farther without having had recourse to some of the ordinary shifts of witch tales? was she really the daughter of roland de vaux, and would the friends have met again and embraced?... we are not amongst those who wish to have "christabel" finished. it cannot be finished. the poet has spun all he could without snapping. the theme is too fine and subtle to bear much extension. it is better as it is, imperfect as a story, but complete as an exquisite production of the imagination, differing in form and colour from the "ancient mariner," yet differing in effect from it only so as the same powerful faculty is directed to the feudal or the mundane phases of the preternatural.... it has been impossible to express, in the few pages to which we are necessarily limited, even a brief opinion upon all those pieces which might seem to call for notice in an estimate of this author's poetical genius. we know no writer of modern times whom it would not be easier to characterize in one page than coleridge in two. the volumes before us contain so many integral efforts of imagination, that a distinct notice of each is indispensable, if we would form a just conclusion upon the total powers of the man. wordsworth, scott, moore, byron, southey, are incomparably more uniform in the direction of their poetic mind. but if you look over these volumes for indications of their author's poetic powers, you find him appearing in at least half a dozen shapes, so different from each other, that it is in vain to attempt to mass them together. it cannot indeed be said, that he has ever composed what is popularly termed a _great_ poem; but he is great in several lines, and the union of such powers is an essential term in a fair estimate of his genius. the romantic witchery of the "christabel," and "ancient mariner," the subtle passion of the love-strains, the lyrical splendour of the three great odes, the affectionate dignity, thoughtfulness, and delicacy of the blank verse poems--especially the "lover's resolution," "frost at midnight," and that most noble and interesting "address to mr. wordsworth"--the dramas, the satires, the epigrams--these are so distinct and so whole in themselves, that they might seem to proceed from different authors, were it not for that same individualizing power, that "shaping spirit of imagination" which more or less sensibly runs through them all. it is the _predominance_ of this power, which, in our judgment, constitutes the essential difference between coleridge and any other of his great contemporaries. he is the most imaginative of the english poets since milton. whatever he writes, be it on the most trivial subject, be it in the most simple strain, his imagination, _in spite of himself_, affects it. there never was a better illustrator of the dogma of the schoolmen--_in omnem actum intellectualem imaginatio influit_. we believe we might affirm, that throughout all the mature original poems in these volumes, there is not one image, the _expression_ of which does not, in a greater or less degree, individualize it and appropriate it to the poet's feelings. tear the passage out of its place, and nail it down at the head of a chapter of a modern novel, and it will be like hanging up in a london exhibition-room a picture painted for the dim light of a cathedral. sometimes a single word--an epithet--has the effect to the reader of a claude lorraine glass; it tints without obscuring or disguising the object. the poet has the same power in conversation. we remember him once settling an elaborate discussion carried on in his presence, upon the respective sublimity of shakespeare and schiller in othello and the robbers, by saying, "both are sublime; only schiller's is the _material_ sublime-- that's all!" _all_ to be sure; but more than enough to show the whole difference. and upon another occasion, where the doctrine of the sacramentaries and the roman catholics on the subject of the eucharist was in question, the poet said, "they are both equally wrong; the first have volatilized the eucharist into a metaphor--the last have condensed it into an idol." such utterance as this flashes light; it supersedes all argument--it abolishes proof by proving itself. we speak of coleridge, then, as the poet of imagination; and we add, that he is likewise the poet of thought and verbal harmony. that his thoughts are sometimes hard and sometimes even obscure, we think must be admitted; it is an obscurity of which all very subtle thinkers are occasionally guilty, either by attempting to express evanescent feelings for which human language is an inadequate vehicle, or by expressing, however adequately, thoughts and distinctions to which the common reader is unused. as to the first kind of obscurity, the words serving only as hieroglyphics to denote a once existing state of mind in the poet, but not logically inferring what that state was, the reader can only guess for himself by the context, whether he ever has or not experienced in himself a corresponding feeling; and, therefore, undoubtedly this is an obscurity which strict criticism cannot but condemn. but, if an author be obscure, merely because this or that reader is unaccustomed to the mode or direction of thinking in which such author's genius makes him take delight--such a writer must indeed bear the consequence as to immediate popularity; but he cannot help the consequence, and if he be worth anything for posterity, he will disregard it. in this sense almost every great writer, whose natural bent has been to turn the mind upon itself, is--must be--obscure; for no writer, with such a direction of intellect, will be great, unless he is individual and original; and if he is individual and original, then he must, in most cases, himself make the readers who shall be competent to sympathize with him. the english flatter themselves by a pretence that shakespeare and milton are popular in england. it is good taste, indeed, to wish to have it believed that those poets are popular. their names are so; but if it be said that the works of shakespeare and milton are popular--that is, liked and studied--amongst the wide circle whom it is now the fashion to talk of as enlightened, we are obliged to express our doubts whether a grosser delusion was ever promulgated. not a play of shakespeare's can be ventured on the london stage without mutilation--and without the most revolting balderdash foisted into the rents made by managers in his divine dramas; nay, it is only some three or four of his pieces that can be borne at all by our all-intelligent public, unless the burthen be lightened by dancing, singing, or processioning. this for the stage. but is it otherwise with "the _reading_ public"? we believe it is worse; we think, verily, that the apprentice or his master who sits out othello or richard at the theatres, does get a sort of glimpse, a touch, an atmosphere of intellectual grandeur; but he could not keep himself awake during the perusal of that which he admires--or fancies he admires--in scenic representation. as to understanding shakespeare--as to entering into all shakespeare's thoughts and feelings--as to seeing the idea of hamlet, or lear, or othello, as shakespeare saw it--this we believe falls, and can only fall, to the lot of the really cultivated few, and of those who may have so much of the temperament of genius in themselves, as to comprehend and sympathize with the criticism of men of genius. shakespeare is now popular by name, because, in the first place, great men, more on a level with the rest of mankind, have said that he is admirable, and also because, in the absolute universality of his genius, he has presented points to all. every man, woman, and child, may pick at least one flower from his garden, the name and scent of which are familiar. to all which must of course be added, the effect of theatrical representation, be that representation what it may. there are tens of thousands of persons in this country whose only acquaintance with shakespeare, such as it is, is through the stage. we have been talking of the contemporary mass; but this is not all; a great original writer _of a philosophic turn_--especially a poet--will almost always have the fashionable world also against him at first, because he does not give the sort of pleasure expected of him at the time, and because, not contented with that, he is sure, by precept or example, to show a contempt for the taste and judgment of the expectants. he is always, and by the law of his being, an idoloclast. by and by, after years of abuse or neglect, the aggregate of the single minds who think for themselves, and have seen the truth and force of his genius, becomes important; the merits of the poet by degrees constitute a question for discussion; his works are one by one read; men recognize a superiority in the abstract, and learn to be modest where before they had been scornful; the coterie becomes a sect; the sect dilates into a party; and lo! after a season, no one knows how, the poet's fame is universal. all this, to the very life, has taken place in this country within the last twenty years. the noblest philosophical poem since the time of lucretius was, within time of short memory, declared to be intolerable, by one of the most brilliant writers in one of the most brilliant publications of the day. it always puts us in mind of waller-- no mean parallel--who, upon the coming out of the "paradise lost," wrote to the duke of buckingham, amongst other pretty things, as follows:-- "milton, the old blind schoolmaster, has lately written a poem on the fall of man--_remarkable for nothing but its extreme length!_" our divine poet asked a fit audience, although it should be but few. his prayer was heard; a fit audience for the "paradise lost" has ever been, and at this moment must be, a small one, and we cannot affect to believe that it is destined to be much increased by what is called the march of intellect. can we lay down the pen without remembering that coleridge the poet is but half the name of coleridge? this, however, is not the place, nor the time, to discuss in detail his qualities or his exertions as a psychologist, moralist, and general philosopher. that time may come, when his system, as a whole, shall be fairly placed before the world, as we have reason to hope it will soon be; and when the preliminary works-- the "friend," the "lay sermons," the "aids to reflection," and the "church and state,"--especially the last two--shall be seen in their proper relations as preparatory exercises for the reader. his "church and state, according to the idea of each"--a little book--we cannot help recommending as a storehouse of grand and immovable principles, bearing upon some of the most vehemently disputed topics of constitutional interest in these momentous times. assuredly this period has not produced a profounder and more luminous essay. we have heard it asked, what was the proposed object of mr. coleridge's labours as a metaphysical philosopher? he once answered that question himself, in language never to be forgotten by those who heard it, and which, whatever may be conjectured of the probability or even possibility of its being fully realized, must be allowed to express the completest idea of a system of philosophy ever yet made public. "my system," said he, "if i may venture to give it so fine a name, is the only attempt that i know, ever made, to reduce all knowledge into harmony. it opposes no other system, but shows what was true in each; and how that which was true in the particular in each of them, became error, _because_ it was only half the truth. i have endeavoured to unite the insulated fragments of truth, and therewith to frame a perfect mirror. i show to each system that i fully understand and rightfully appreciate what that system means; but then i lift up that system to a higher point of view, from which i enable it to see its former position, where it was indeed, but under another light and with different relations,--so that the fragment of truth is not only acknowledged, but explained. so the old astronomers discovered and maintained much that was true; but because they were placed on a false ground, and looked from a wrong point of view, they never did--they never could--discover the truth--that is, the whole truth. as soon as they left the earth, their false centre, and took their stand in the sun, immediately they saw the whole system in its true light, and the former station remaining--but remaining _as a part_ of the prospect. i wish, in short, to connect a moral copula, natural history with political history; or, in other words, to make history scientific, and science historical:--to take from history its accidentality, and from science its fatalism." whether we shall ever, hereafter, have occasion to advert to any new poetical efforts of mr. coleridge, or not, we cannot say. we wish we had a reasonable cause to expect it. if not, then this hail and farewell will have been well made. we conclude with, we believe, the last verses he has written-- _my baptismal birth-day._ god's child in christ adopted,--christ my all,-- what that earth boasts were not lost cheaply, rather than forfeit the blest name, by which i call the holy one, the almighty god, my father? father! in christ we live, and christ in thee; eternal thou, and everlasting we. the heir of heaven, henceforth i fear not death: in christ i live: in christ i draw the breath of the true life:--let then earth, sea, and sky make war against me! on my heart i show their mighty master's seal. in vain they try to end my life, that can but end its woe. is that a death-bed where a christian lies? yes! but not his--'tis death itself there dies.--vol. ii, p. . sir walter scott on jane austen [from. _the quarterly review_, october, ] _emma; a novel_. by the author of _sense and sensibility, pride and prejudice_, etc. vols. mo. london. . there are some vices in civilized society so common that they are hardly acknowledged as stains upon the moral character, the propensity to which is nevertheless carefully concealed, even by those who most frequently give way to them; since no man of pleasure would willingly assume the gross epithet of a debauchee or a drunkard. one would almost think that novel-reading fell under this class of frailties, since among the crowds who read little else, it is not common to find an individual of hardihood sufficient to avow his taste for these frivolous studies. a novel, therefore, is frequently "bread eaten in secret"; and it is not upon lydia languish's toilet alone that tom jones and peregrine pickle are to be found ambushed behind works of a more grave and instructive character. and hence it has happened, that in no branch of composition, not even in poetry itself, have so many writers, and of such varied talents, exerted their powers. it may perhaps be added, that although the composition of these works admits of being exalted and decorated by the higher exertions of genius; yet such is the universal charm of narrative, that the worst novel ever written will find some gentle reader content to yawn over it, rather than to open the page of the historian, moralist, or poet. we have heard, indeed, of one work of fiction so unutterably stupid, that the proprietor, diverted by the rarity of the incident, offered the book, which consisted of two volumes in duodecimo, handsomely bound, to any person who would declare, upon his honour, that he had read the whole from beginning to end. but although this offer was made to the passengers on board an indiaman, during a tedious outward-bound voyage, the _memoirs of clegg the clergyman_ (such was the title of this unhappy composition) completely baffled the most dull and determined student on board, and bid fair for an exception to the general rule above-mentioned,--when the love of glory prevailed with the boatswain, a man of strong and solid parts, to hazard the attempt, and he actually conquered and carried off the prize! the judicious reader will see at once that we have been pleading our own cause while stating the universal practice, and preparing him for a display of more general acquaintance with this fascinating department of literature, than at first sight may seem consistent with the graver studies to which we are compelled by duty: but in truth, when we consider how many hours of languor and anxiety, of deserted age and solitary celibacy, of pain even and poverty, are beguiled by the perusal of these light volumes, we cannot austerely condemn the source from which is drawn the alleviation of such a portion of human misery, or consider the regulation of this department as beneath the sober consideration of the critic. if such apologies may be admitted in judging the labours of ordinary novelists, it becomes doubly the duty of the critic to treat with kindness as well as candour works which, like this before us, proclaim a knowledge of the human heart, with the power and resolution to bring that knowledge to the service of honour and virtue. the author is already known to the public by the two novels announced in her title-page, and both, the last especially, attracted, with justice, an attention from the public far superior to what is granted to the ephemeral productions which supply the regular demand of watering-places and circulating libraries. they belong to a class of fictions which has arisen almost in our own times, and which draws the characters and incidents introduced more immediately from the current of ordinary life than was permitted by the former rules of the novel. in its first appearance, the novel was the legitimate child of the romance; and though the manners and general turn of the composition were altered so as to suit modern times, the author remained fettered by many peculiarities derived from the original style of romantic fiction. these may be chiefly traced in the conduct of the narrative, and the tone of sentiment attributed to the fictitious personages. on the first point, although the talisman and magic wand were broke, knights, dwarfs, and genii vanish'd into smoke, still the reader expected to peruse a course of adventures of a nature more interesting and extraordinary than those which occur in his own life, or that of his next-door neighbours. the hero no longer defeated armies by his single sword, clove giants to the chine, or gained kingdoms. but he was expected to go through perils by sea and land, to be steeped in poverty, to be tried by temptation, to be exposed to the alternate vicissitudes of adversity and prosperity, and his life was a troubled scene of suffering and achievement. few novelists, indeed, adventured to deny to the hero his final hour of tranquillity and happiness, though it was the prevailing fashion never to relieve him out of his last and most dreadful distress until the finishing chapters of his history; so that although his prosperity in the record of his life was short, we were bound to believe it was long and uninterrupted when the author had done with him. the heroine was usually condemned to equal hardships and hazards. she was regularly exposed to being forcibly carried off like a sabine virgin by some frantic admirer. and even if she escaped the terrors of masked ruffians, an insidious ravisher, a cloak wrapped forcibly around her head, and a coach with the blinds up driving she could not conjecture whither, she had still her share of wandering, of poverty, of obloquy, of seclusion, and of imprisonment, and was frequently extended upon a bed of sickness, and reduced to her last shilling before the author condescended to shield her from persecution. in all these dread contingencies the mind of the reader was expected to sympathize, since by incidents so much beyond the bounds of his ordinary experience, his wonder and interest ought at once to be excited. but gradually he became familiar with the land of fiction, the adventures of which he assimilated not with those of real life, but with each other. let the distress of the hero or heroine be ever so great, the reader reposed an imperturbable confidence in the talents of the author, who, as he had plunged them into distress, would in his own good time, and when things, as tony lumkin says, were in a concatenation accordingly, bring his favourites out of all their troubles. mr. crabbe has expressed his own and our feelings excellently on this subject. for should we grant these beauties all endure severest pangs, they've still the speediest cure; before one charm be withered from the face, except the bloom which shall again have place, in wedlock ends each wish, in triumph all disgrace. and life to come, we fairly may suppose, one light bright contrast to these wild dark woes. in short, the author of novels was, in former times, expected to tread pretty much in the limits between the concentric circles of probability and possibility; and as he was not permitted to transgress the latter, his narrative, to make amends, almost always went beyond the bounds of the former. now, although it may be urged that the vicissitudes of human life have occasionally led an individual through as many scenes of singular fortune as are represented in the most extravagant of these fictions, still the causes and personages acting on these changes have varied with the progress of the adventurer's fortune, and do not present that combined plot, (the object of every skilful novelist), in which all the more interesting individuals of the dramatis personae have their appropriate share in the action and in bringing about the catastrophe. here, even more than in its various and violent changes of fortune, rests the improbability of the novel. the life of man rolls forth like a stream from the fountain, or it spreads out into tranquillity like a placid or stagnant lake. in the latter case, the individual grows old among the characters with whom he was born, and is contemporary,--shares precisely the sort of weal and woe to which his birth destined him,-- moves in the same circle,--and, allowing for the change of seasons, is influenced by, and influences the same class of persons by which he was originally surrounded. the man of mark and of adventure, on the contrary, resembles, in the course of his life, the river whose mid-current and discharge into the ocean are widely removed from each other, as well as from the rocks and wild flowers which its fountains first reflected; violent changes of time, of place, and of circumstances, hurry him forward from one scene to another, and his adventures will usually be found only connected with each other because they have happened to the same individual. such a history resembles an ingenious, fictitious narrative, exactly in the degree in which an old dramatic chronicle of the life and death of some distinguished character, where all the various agents appear and disappear as in the page of history, approaches a regular drama, in which every person introduced plays an appropriate part, and every point of the action tends to one common catastrophe. we return to the second broad line of distinction between the novel, as formerly composed, and real life,--the difference, namely, of the sentiments. the novelist professed to give an imitation of nature, but it was, as the french say, _la belle nature_. human beings, indeed, were presented, but in the most sentimental mood, and with minds purified by a sensibility which often verged on extravagance. in the serious class of novels, the hero was usually a knight of love, who never broke a vow. and although, in those of a more humorous cast, he was permitted a licence, borrowed either from real life or from the libertinism of the drama, still a distinction was demanded even from peregrine pickle, or tom jones; and the hero, in every folly of which he might be guilty, was studiously vindicated from the charge of infidelity of the heart. the heroine was, of course, still more immaculate; and to have conferred her affections upon any other than the lover to whom the reader had destined her from their first meeting, would have been a crime against sentiment which no author, of moderate prudence, would have hazarded, under the old _régime_. here, therefore, we have two essentials and important circumstances, in which the earlier novels differed from those now in fashion, and were more nearly assimilated to the old romances. and there can be no doubt that, by the studied involution and extrication of the story, by the combination of incidents new, striking and wonderful beyond the course of ordinary life, the former authors opened that obvious and strong sense of interest which arises from curiosity; as by the pure, elevated, and romantic cast of the sentiment, they conciliated those better propensities of our nature which loves to contemplate the picture of virtue, even when confessedly unable to imitate its excellences. but strong and powerful as these sources of emotion and interest may be, they are, like all others, capable of being exhausted by habit. the imitators who rushed in crowds upon each path in which the great masters of the art had successively led the way, produced upon the public mind the usual effect of satiety. the first writer of a new class is, as it were, placed on a pinnacle of excellence, to which, at the earliest glance of a surprised admirer, his ascent seems little less than miraculous. time and imitation speedily diminish the wonder, and each successive attempt establishes a kind of progressive scale of ascent between the lately deified author, and the reader, who had deemed his excellence inaccessible. the stupidity, the mediocrity, the merit of his imitators, are alike fatal to the first inventor, by showing how possible it is to exaggerate his faults and to come within a certain point of his beauties. materials also (and the man of genius as well as his wretched imitator must work with the same) become stale and familiar. social life, in our civilized days, affords few instances capable of being painted in the strong dark colours which excite surprise and horror; and robbers, smugglers, bailiffs, caverns, dungeons, and mad-houses, have been all introduced until they ceased to interest. and thus in the novel, as in every style of composition which appeals to the public taste, the more rich and easily worked mines being exhausted, the adventurous author must, if he is desirous of success, have recourse to those which were disdained by his predecessors as unproductive, or avoided as only capable of being turned to profit by great skill and labour. accordingly a style of novel has arisen, within the last fifteen or twenty years, differing from the former in the points upon which the interest hinges; neither alarming our credulity nor amusing our imagination by wild variety of incident, or by those pictures of romantic affection and sensibility, which were formerly as certain attributes of fictitious characters as they are of rare occurrence among those who actually live and die. the substitute for these excitements, which had lost much of their poignancy by the repeated and injudicious use of them, was the art of copying from nature as she really exists in the common walks of life, and presenting to the reader, instead of the splendid scenes of an imaginary world, a correct and striking representation of that which is daily taking place around him. in adventuring upon this task, the author makes obvious sacrifices, and encounters peculiar difficulty. he who paints from _le beau idéal_, if his scenes and sentiments are striking and interesting, is in a great measure exempted from the difficult task of reconciling them with the ordinary probabilities of life: but he who paints a scene of common occurrence, places his composition within that extensive range of criticism which general experience offers to every reader. the resemblance of a statue of hercules we must take on the artist's judgment; but every one can criticize that which is presented as the portrait of a friend, or neighbour. something more than a mere sign-post likeness is also demanded. the portrait must have spirit and character, as well as resemblance; and being deprived of all that, according to bayes, goes "to elevate and surprize," it must make amends by displaying depth of knowledge and dexterity of execution. we, therefore, bestow no mean compliment upon the author of _emma_, when we say that, keeping close to common incidents, and to such characters as occupy the ordinary walks of life, she has produced sketches of such spirit and originality, that we never miss the excitation which depends upon a narrative of uncommon events, arising from the consideration of minds, manners and sentiments, greatly above our own. in this class she stands almost alone; for the scenes of miss edgeworth are laid in higher life, varied by more romantic incident, and by her remarkable power of embodying and illustrating national character. but the author of _emma_ confines herself chiefly to the middling classes of society; her most distinguished characters do not rise greatly above well-bred country gentlemen and ladies; and those which are sketched with most originality and precision, belong to a class rather below that standard. the narrative of all her novels is composed of such common occurrences as may have fallen under the observation of most folks; and her dramatis personae conduct themselves upon the motives and principles which the readers may recognize as ruling their own and that of most of their acquaintances. the kind of moral, also, which these novels inculcate, applies equally to the paths of common life, as will best appear from a short notice of the author's former works, with a more full abstract of that which we at present have under consideration. _sense and sensibility_, the first of these compositions, contains the history of two sisters. the elder, a young lady of prudence and regulated feelings, becomes gradually attached to a man of an excellent heart and limited talents, who happens unfortunately to be fettered by a rash and ill-assorted engagement. in the younger sister, the influence of sensibility and imagination predominates; and she, as was to be expected, also falls in love, but with more unbridled and wilful passion. her lover, gifted with all the qualities of exterior polish and vivacity, proves faithless, and marries a woman of large fortune. the interest and merit of the piece depend altogether upon the behaviour of the elder sister, while obliged at once to sustain her own disappointment with fortitude, and to support her sister, who abandons herself, with unsuppressed feelings, to the indulgence of grief. the marriage of the unworthy rival at length relieves her own lover from his imprudent engagement, while her sister, turned wise by precept, example, and experience, transfers her affection to a very respectable and somewhat too serious admirer, who had nourished an unsuccessful passion through the three volumes. in _pride and prejudice_ the author presents us with a family of young women, bred up under a foolish and vulgar mother, and a father whose good abilities lay hid under such a load of indolence and insensibility, that he had become contented to make the foibles and follies of his wife and daughters the subject of dry and humorous sarcasm, rather than of admonition, or restraint. this is one of the portraits from ordinary life which shews our author's talents in a very strong point of view. a friend of ours, whom the author never saw or heard of, was at once recognized by his own family as the original of mr. bennet, and we do not know if he has yet got rid of the nickname. a mr. collins, too, a formal, conceited, yet servile young sprig of divinity, is drawn with the same force and precision. the story of the piece consists chiefly in the fates of the second sister, to whom a man of high birth, large fortune, but haughty and reserved manners, becomes attached, in spite of the discredit thrown upon the object of his affection by the vulgarity and ill-conduct of her relations. the lady, on the contrary, hurt at the contempt of her connections, which the lover does not even attempt to suppress, and prejudiced against him on other accounts, refuses the hand which he ungraciously offers, and does not perceive that she has done a foolish thing until she accidentally visits a very handsome seat and grounds belonging to her admirer. they chance to meet exactly as her prudence had begun to subdue her prejudice; and after some essential services rendered to her family, the lover becomes encouraged to renew his addresses, and the novel ends happily. _emma_ has even less story than either of the preceding novels. miss emma woodhouse, from whom the book takes its name, is the daughter of a gentleman of wealth and consequence residing at his seat in the immediate vicinage of a country village called highbury. the father, a good-natured, silly valetudinary, abandons the management of his household to emma, he himself being only occupied by his summer and winter walk, his apothecary, his gruel, and his whist table. the latter is supplied from the neighbouring village of highbury with precisely the sort of persons who occupy the vacant corners of a regular whist table, when a village is in the neighbourhood, and better cannot be found within the family. we have the smiling and courteous vicar, who nourishes the ambitious hope of obtaining miss woodhouse's hand. we have mrs. bates, the wife of a former rector, past everything but tea and whist; her daughter, miss bates, a good-natured, vulgar, and foolish old maid; mr. weston, a gentleman of a frank disposition and moderate fortune, in the vicinity, and his wife an amiable and accomplished person, who had been emma's governess, and is devotedly attached to her. amongst all these personages, miss woodhouse walks forth, the princess paramount, superior to all her companions in wit, beauty, fortune, and accomplishments, doated upon by her father and the westons, admired, and almost worshipped by the more humble companions of the whist table. the object of most young ladies is, or at least is usually supposed to be, a desirable connection in marriage. but emma woodhouse, either anticipating the taste of a later period of life, or, like a good sovereign, preferring the weal of her subjects of highbury to her own private interest, sets generously about making matches for her friends without thinking of matrimony on her own account. we are informed that she had been eminently successful in the case of mr. and mrs. weston; and when the novel commences she is exerting her influence in favour of miss harriet smith, a boarding-school girl without family or fortune, very good humoured, very pretty, very silly, and, what suited miss woodhouse's purpose best of all, very much disposed to be married. in these conjugal machinations emma is frequently interrupted, not only by the cautions of her father, who had a particular objection to any body committing the rash act of matrimony, but also by the sturdy reproof and remonstrances of mr. knightley, the elder brother of her sister's husband, a sensible country gentleman of thirty-five, who had known emma from her cradle, and was the only person who ventured to find fault with her. in spite, however, of his censure and warning, emma lays a plan of marrying harriet smith to the vicar; and though she succeeds perfectly in diverting her simple friend's thoughts from an honest farmer who had made her a very suitable offer, and in flattering her into a passion for mr. elton, yet, on the other hand, that conceited divine totally mistakes the nature of the encouragement held out to him, and attributes the favour which he found in miss woodhouse's eyes to a lurking affection on her own part. this at length encourages him to a presumptuous declaration of his sentiments; upon receiving a repulse, he looks abroad elsewhere, and enriches the highbury society by uniting himself to a dashing young woman with as many thousands as are usually called ten, and a corresponding quantity of presumption and ill breeding. while emma is thus vainly engaged in forging wedlock-fetters for others, her friends have views of the same kind upon her, in favour of a son of mr. weston by a former marriage, who bears the name, lives under the patronage, and is to inherit the fortune of a rich uncle. unfortunately mr. frank churchill had already settled his affections on miss jane fairfax, a young lady of reduced fortune; but as this was a concealed affair, emma, when mr. churchill first appears on the stage, has some thoughts of being in love with him herself; speedily, however, recovering from that dangerous propensity, she is disposed to confer him upon her deserted friend harriet smith. harriet has in the interim, fallen desperately in love with mr. knightley, the sturdy, advice-giving bachelor; and, as all the village supposes frank churchill and emma to be attached to each other, there are cross purposes enough (were the novel of a more romantic cast) for cutting half the men's throats and breaking all the women's hearts. but at highbury cupid walks decorously, and with good discretion, bearing his torch under a lanthorn, instead of flourishing it around to set the house on fire. all these entanglements bring on only a train of mistakes and embarrassing situations, and dialogues at balls and parties of pleasure, in which the author displays her peculiar powers of humour and knowledge of human life. the plot is extricated with great simplicity. the aunt of frank churchill dies; his uncle, no longer under her baneful influence, consents to his marriage with jane fairfax. mr. knightley and emma are led, by this unexpected incident, to discover that they had been in love with each other all along. mr. woodhouse's objections to the marriage of his daughter are overpowered by the fears of house-breakers, and the comfort which he hopes to derive from having a stout son-in-law resident in the family; and the facile affections of harriet smith are transferred, like a bank bill by indorsation, to her former suitor, the honest farmer, who had obtained a favourable opportunity of renewing his addresses. such is the simple plan of a story which we peruse with pleasure, if not with deep interest, and which perhaps we might more willingly resume than one of those narratives where the attention is strongly riveted, during the first perusal, by the powerful excitement of curiosity. the author's knowledge of the world, and the peculiar tact with which she presents characters that the reader cannot fail to recognize, reminds us something of the merits of the flemish school of painting. the subjects are not often elegant, and certainly never grand; but they are finished up to nature, and with a precision which delights the reader. this is a merit which it is very difficult to illustrate by extracts, because it pervades the whole work, and is not to be comprehended from a single passage. the following is a dialogue between mr. woodhouse, and his elder daughter isabella, who shares his anxiety about health, and has, like her father, a favourite apothecary. the reader must be informed that this lady, with her husband, a sensible, peremptory sort of person, had come to spend a week with her father. * * * * * perhaps the reader may collect from the preceding specimen both the merits and faults of the author. the former consists much in the force of a narrative conducted with much neatness and point, and a quiet yet comic dialogue, in which the characters of the speakers evolve themselves with dramatic effect. the faults, on the contrary, arise from the minute detail which the author's plan comprehends. characters of folly or simplicity, such as those of old woodhouse and miss bates, are ridiculous when first presented, but if too often brought forward or too long dwelt upon, their prosing is apt to become as tiresome in fiction as in real society. upon the whole, the turn of this author's novels bears the same relation to that of the sentimental and romantic cast, that cornfields and cottages and meadows bear to the highly adorned grounds of a show mansion, or the rugged sublimities of a mountain landscape. it is neither so captivating as the one, nor so grand as the other, but it affords to those who frequent it a pleasure nearly allied with the experience of their own social habits; and what is of some importance, the youthful wanderer may return from his promenade to the ordinary business of life, without any chance of having his head turned by the recollection of the scene through which he has been wandering. one word, however, we must say in behalf of that once powerful divinity, cupid, king of gods and men, who in these times of revolution, has been assailed, even in his own kingdom of romance, by the authors who were formerly his devoted priests. we are quite aware that there are few instances of first attachment being brought to a happy conclusion, and that it seldom can be so in a state of society so highly advanced as to render early marriages among the better class, acts, generally speaking, of imprudence. but the youth of this realm need not at present be taught the doctrine of selfishness. it is by no means their error to give the world or the good things of the world all for love; and before the authors of moral fiction couple cupid indivisibly with calculating prudence, we would have them reflect, that they may sometimes lend their aid to substitute more mean, more sordid, and more selfish motives of conduct, for the romantic feelings which their predecessors perhaps fanned into too powerful a flame. who is it, that in his youth has felt a virtuous attachment, however romantic or however unfortunate, but can trace back to its influence much that his character may possess of what is honourable, dignified, and disinterested? if he recollects hours wasted in unavailing hope, or saddened by doubt and disappointment; he may also dwell on many which have been snatched from folly or libertinism, and dedicated to studies which might render him worthy of the object of his affection, or pave the way perhaps to that distinction necessary to raise him to an equality with her. even the habitual indulgence of feelings totally unconnected with ourself and our own immediate interest, softens, graces, and amends the human mind; and after the pain of disappointment is past, those who survive (and by good fortune those are the greater number) are neither less wise nor less worthy members of society for having felt, for a time, the influence of a passion which has been well qualified as the "tenderest, noblest and best." archbishop whately on jane austen [from _the quarterly review_, january, ] _northanger abbey, and persuasion_. by the author of _sense and sensibility, pride and prejudice, mansfield park_, and _emma_. vols. new edition. the times seem to be past when an apology was requisite from reviewers for condescending to notice a novel; when they felt themselves bound in dignity to deprecate the suspicion of paying much regard to such trifles, and pleaded the necessity of occasionally stooping to humour the taste of their fair readers. the delights of fiction, if not more keenly or more generally relished, are at least more readily acknowledged by men of sense and taste; and we have lived to hear the merits of the best of this class of writings earnestly discussed by some of the ablest scholars and soundest reasoners of the present day. we are inclined to attribute this change, not so much to an alteration in the public taste, as in the character of the productions in question. novels may not, perhaps, display more genius now than formerly, but they contain more solid sense; they may not afford higher gratification, but it is of a nature which men are less disposed to be ashamed of avowing. we remarked, in a former number, in reviewing a work of the author now before us, that "a new style of novel has arisen, within the last fifteen or twenty years, differing from the former in the points upon which the interest hinges; neither alarming our credulity nor amusing our imagination by wild variety of incident, or by those pictures of romantic affection and sensibility, which were formerly as certain attributes of fictitious characters as they are of rare occurrence among those who actually live and die. the substitute for these excitements, which had lost much of their poignancy by the repeated and injudicious use of them, was the art of copying from nature as she really exists in the common walks of life, and presenting to the reader, instead of the splendid scenes of an imaginary world, a correct and striking representation of that which is daily taking place around him." now, though the origin of this new school of fiction may probably be traced, as we there suggested, to the exhaustion of the mines from which materials for entertainment had been hitherto extracted, and the necessity of gratifying the natural craving of the reader for variety, by striking into an untrodden path; the consequences resulting from this change have been far greater than the mere supply of this demand. when this flemish painting, as it were, is introduced--this accurate and unexaggerated delineation of events and characters--it necessarily follows, that a novel, which makes good its pretensions of giving a perfectly correct picture of common life, becomes a far more _instructive_ work than one of equal or superior merit of the other class; it guides the judgment, and supplies a kind of artificial experience. it is a remark of the great father of criticism, that poetry (_i.e._, narrative, and dramatic poetry) is of a more philosophical character than history; inasmuch as the latter details what has actually happened, of which many parts may chance to be exceptions to the general rules of probability, and consequently illustrate no general principles; whereas the former shews us what must naturally, or would probably, happen under given circumstances; and thus displays to us a comprehensive view of human nature, and furnishes general rules of practical wisdom. it is evident, that this will apply only to such fictions as are quite _perfect_ in respect of the probability of their story; and that he, therefore, who resorts to the fabulist rather than the historian, for instruction in human character and conduct, must throw himself entirely on the judgment and skill of his teacher, and give him credit for talents much more rare than the accuracy and veracity which are the chief requisites in history. we fear, therefore, that the exultation which we can conceive some of our gentle readers to feel, at having aristotle's warrant for (what probably they had never dreamed of) the _philosophical character_ of their studies, must, in practice, be somewhat qualified, by those sundry little violations of probability which are to be met with in most novels; and which so far lower their value, as models of real life, that a person who had no other preparation for the world than is afforded by them, would form, probably, a less accurate idea of things as they are, than he would of a lion from studying merely the representations on china tea-pots. accordingly, a heavy complaint has long lain against works of fiction, as giving a false picture of what they profess to imitate, and disqualifying their readers for the ordinary scenes and everyday duties of life. and this charge applies, we apprehend, to the generality of what are strictly called novels, with even more justice than to romances. when all the characters and events are very far removed from what we see around us,--when, perhaps, even supernatural agents are introduced, the reader may indulge, indeed, in occasional day-dreams, but will be so little reminded by what he has been reading, of anything that occurs in actual life, that though he may perhaps feel some disrelish for the tameness of the scene before him, compared with the fairy-land he has been visiting, yet at least his judgment will not be depraved, nor his expectations misled; he will not apprehend a meeting with algerine banditti on english shores, nor regard the old woman who shews him about an antique country seat, as either an enchantress or the keeper of an imprisoned damsel. but it is otherwise with those fictions which differ from common life in little or nothing but the improbability of the occurrences: the reader is insensibly led to calculate upon some of those lucky incidents and opportune coincidences of which he has been so much accustomed to read, and which, it is undeniable, _may_ take place in real life; and to feel a sort of confidence, that however romantic his conduct may be, and in whatever difficulties it may involve him, all will be sure to come right at last, as is invariably the case with the hero of a novel. on the other hand, so far as these pernicious effects fail to be produced, so far does the example lose its influence, and the exercise of poetical justice is rendered vain. the reward of virtuous conduct being brought about by fortunate accidents, he who abstains (taught, perhaps, by bitter disappointments) from reckoning on such accidents, wants that encouragement to virtue, which alone has been held out to him. "if i were _a man in a novel_," we remember to have heard an ingenious friend observe, "i should certainly act so and so, because i should be sure of being no loser by the most heroic self-devotion and of ultimately succeeding in the most daring enterprises." it may be said, in answer, that these objections apply only to the _unskilful_ novelist, who, from ignorance of the world, gives an unnatural representation of what he professes to delineate. this is partly true, and partly not; for there is a distinction to be made between the _unnatural_ and the merely _improbable_: a fiction is unnatural when there is some assignable reason against the events taking place as described,--when men are represented as acting contrary to the character assigned them, or to human nature in general; as when a young lady of seventeen, brought up in ease, luxury and retirement, with no companions but the narrow-minded and illiterate, displays (as a heroine usually does) under the most trying circumstances, such wisdom, fortitude, and knowledge of the world, as the best instructors and the best examples can rarely produce without the aid of more mature age and longer experience.--on the other hand, a fiction is still _improbable_, though _not unnatural_, when there is no reason to be assigned why things should not take place as represented, except that the _overbalance of chances is_ against it; the hero meets, in his utmost distress, most opportunely, with the very person to whom he had formerly done a signal service, and who happens to communicate to him a piece of intelligence which sets all to rights. why should he not meet him as well as any one else? all that can be said is, that there is no reason why he should. the infant who is saved from a wreck, and who afterwards becomes such a constellation of virtues and accomplishments, turns out to be no other than the nephew of the very gentleman, on whose estate the waves had cast him, and whose lovely daughter he had so long sighed for in vain: there is no reason to be given, except from the calculation of chances, why he should not have been thrown on one part of the coast as well as another. nay, it would be nothing unnatural, though the most determined novel-reader would be shocked at its improbability, if all the hero's enemies, while they were conspiring his ruin were to be struck dead together by a lucky flash of lightning: yet many denouements which _are_ decidedly unnatural, are better tolerated than this would be. we shall, perhaps, best explain our meaning by examples, taken from a novel of great merit in many respects. when lord glenthorn, in whom a most unfavourable education has acted on a most unfavourable disposition, after a life of torpor, broken only by short sallies of forced exertion, on a sudden reverse of fortune, displays at once the most persevering diligence in the most repulsive studies, and in middle life, without any previous habits of exertion, any hope of early business, or the example of friends, or the stimulus of actual want, to urge him, outstrips every competitor, though every competitor has every advantage against him; this is unnatural.--when lord glenthorn, the instant he is stripped of his estates, meets, falls in love with, and is conditionally accepted by the very lady who is remotely intitled to those estates; when, the instant he has fulfilled the conditions of their marriage, the family of the person possessed of the estates becomes extinct, and by the concurrence of circumstances, against every one of which the chances were enormous, the hero is re-instated in all his old domains; this is merely improbable. the distinction which we have been pointing out may be plainly perceived in the events of real life; when any thing takes place of such a nature as we should call, in a fiction, merely improbable, because there are many chances against it, we call it a lucky or unlucky accident, a singular coincidence, something very extraordinary, odd, curious, etc.; whereas any thing which, in a fiction, would be called unnatural, when it actually occurs (and such things do occur), is still called unnatural, inexplicable, unaccountable, inconceivable, etc., epithets which are not applied to events that have merely the balance of chances against them. now, though an author who understands human nature is not likely to introduce into his fictions any thing that is unnatural, he will often have much that is improbable: he may place his personages, by the intervention of accident, in striking situations, and lead them through a course of extraordinary adventures; and yet, in the midst of all this, he will keep up the most perfect consistency of character, and make them act as it would be natural for men to act in such situations and circumstances. fielding's novels are a good illustration of this: they display great knowledge of mankind; the characters are well preserved; the persons introduced all act as one would naturally expect they should, in the circumstances in which they are placed; but these circumstances are such as it is incalculably improbable should ever exist: several of the events, taken singly, are much against the chances of probability; but the combination of the whole in a connected series, is next to impossible. even the romances which admit a mixture of supernatural agency, are not more unfit to prepare men for real life, than such novels as these; since one might just as reasonably calculate on the intervention of a fairy, as on the train of lucky chances which combine first to involve tom jones in his difficulties, and afterwards to extricate him. perhaps, indeed, the supernatural fable is of the two not only (as we before remarked) the less mischievous in its moral effects, but also the more correct kind of composition in point of taste: the author lays down a kind of hypothesis of the existence of ghosts, witches, or fairies, and professes to describe what would take place under that hypothesis; the novelist, on the contrary, makes no demand of extraordinary machinery, but professes to describe what may actually take place, according to the existing laws of human affairs: if he therefore present us with a series of events quite unlike any which ever do take place, we have reason to complain that he has not made good his professions. when, therefore, the generality, even of the most approved novels, were of this character (to say nothing of the heavier charges brought, of inflaming the passions of young persons by warm descriptions, weakening their abhorrence of profligacy by exhibiting it in combination with the most engaging qualities, and presenting vice in all its allurements, while setting forth the triumphs of "virtue rewarded") it is not to be wondered that the grave guardians of youth should have generally stigmatized the whole class, as "serving only to fill young people's heads with romantic love-stories, and rendering them unfit to mind anything else." that this censure and caution should in many instances be indiscriminate, can surprize no one, who recollects how rare a quality discrimination is; and how much better it suits indolence, as well as ignorance, to lay down a rule, than to ascertain the exceptions to it: we are acquainted with a careful mother whose daughters while they never in their lives read a _novel_ of any kind, are permitted to peruse, without reserve, any _plays_ that happen to fall in their way; and with another, from whom no lessons, however excellent, of wisdom and piety, contained in a _prose-fiction,_ can obtain quarter; but who, on the other hand, is no less indiscriminately indulgent to her children in the article of tales in _verse_, of whatever character. the change, however, which we have already noticed, as having taken place in the character of several modern novels, has operated in a considerable degree to do away this prejudice; and has elevated this species of composition, in some respects at least, into a much higher class. for most of that instruction which used to be presented to the world in the shape of formal dissertations, or shorter and more desultory moral essays, such as those of the _spectator_ and _rambler_, we may now resort to the pages of the acute and judicious, but not less amusing, novelists who have lately appeared. if their views of men and manners are no less just than those of the essayists who preceded them, are they to be rated lower because they present to us these views, not in the language of general description, but in the form of well-constructed fictitious narrative? if the practical lessons they inculcate are no less sound and useful, it is surely no diminution of their merit that they are conveyed by example instead of precept: nor, if their remarks are neither less wise nor less important, are they the less valuable for being represented as thrown out in the course of conversations suggested by the circumstances of the speakers, and perfectly in character. the praise and blame of the moralist are surely not the less effectual for being bestowed, not in general declamation, on classes of men, but on individuals representing those classes, who are so clearly delineated and brought into action before us, that we seem to be acquainted with them, and feel an interest in their fate. biography is allowed, on all hands, to be one of the most attractive and profitable kinds of reading: now such novels as we have been speaking of, being a kind of fictitious biography, bear the same relation to the real, that epic and tragic poetry, according to aristotle, bear to history: they present us (supposing, of course, each perfect in its kind) with the general, instead of the particular,--the probable, instead of the true; and, by leaving out those accidental irregularities, and exceptions to general rules, which constitute the many improbabilities of real narrative, present us with a clear and _abstracted_ view of the general rules themselves; and thus concentrate, as it were, into a small compass, the net result of wide experience. among the authors of this school there is no one superior, if equal, to the lady whose last production is now before us, and whom we have much regret in finally taking leave of: her death (in the prime of life, considered as a writer) being announced in this the first publication to which her name is prefixed. we regret the failure not only of a source of innocent amusement, but also of that supply of practical good sense and instructive example, which she would probably have continued to furnish better than any of her contemporaries:--miss edgeworth, indeed, draws characters and details conversations, such as they occur in real life, with a spirit and fidelity not to be surpassed; but her stories are most romantically improbable (in the sense above explained), almost all the important events of them being brought about by most _providential_ coincidences; and this, as we have already remarked, is not merely faulty, inasmuch as it evinces a want of skill in the writer, and gives an air of clumsiness to the fiction, but is a very considerable drawback on its practical utility: the personages either of fiction or history being then only profitable examples, when their good or ill conduct meets its appropriate reward, not from a sort of independent machinery of accidents, but as a necessary or probable result, according to the ordinary course of affairs. miss edgeworth also is somewhat too avowedly didactic: that seems to be true of her, which the french critics, in the extravagance of their conceits, attributed to homer and virgil; viz., that they first thought of a moral, and then framed a fable to illustrate it; she would, we think, instruct more successfully, and she would, we are sure, please more frequently, if she kept the design of teaching more out of sight, and did not so glaringly press every circumstance of her story, principal or subordinate, into the service of a principle to be inculcated, or information to be given. a certain portion of moral instruction must accompany every well-invented narrative. virtue must be represented as producing, at the long run, happiness; and vice, misery; and the accidental events, that in real life interrupt this tendency, are anomalies which, though true individually, are as false generally as the accidental deformities which vary the average outline of the human figure. they would be as much out of place in a fictitious narrative, as a wen in an academic model. but any _direct_ attempt at moral teaching, and any attempt whatever to give scientific information will, we fear, unless managed with the utmost discretion, interfere with what, after all, is the immediate and peculiar object of the novelist, as of the poet, _to please_. if instruction do not join as a volunteer, she will do no good service. miss edgeworth's novels put us in mind of those clocks and watches which are condemned "a double or a treble debt to pay": which, besides their legitimate object, to show the hour, tell you the day of the month or the week, give you a landscape for a dial-plate, with the second hand forming the sails of a windmill, or have a barrel to play a tune, or an alarum to remind you of an engagement: all very good things in their way; but so it is that these watches never tell the time so well as those in which that is the exclusive object of the maker. every additional movement is an obstacle to the original design. we do not deny that we have learned much physic, and much law, from _patronage_, particularly the latter, for miss edgeworth's law is of a very original kind; but it was not to learn law and physic that we took up the book, and we suspect we should have been more pleased if we had been less taught. with regard to the influence of religion, which is scarcely, if at all, alluded to in miss edgeworth's novels, we would abstain from pronouncing any decision which should apply to her personally. she may, for aught we know, entertain opinions which would not permit her, with consistency, to attribute more to it than she has done; in that case she stands acquitted, in _foro conscientiae_, of wilfully suppressing any thing which she acknowledges to be true and important; but, as a writer, it must still be considered as a blemish, in the eyes at least of those who think differently, that virtue should be studiously inculcated with scarcely any reference to what they regard as the main spring of it; that vice should be traced to every other source except the want of religious principle; that the most radical change from worthlessness to excellence should be represented as wholly independent of that agent which they consider as the only one that can accomplish it; and that consolation under affliction should be represented as derived from every source except the one which they look to as the only true and sure one: "is it not because there is no god in israel that ye have sent to inquire of baalzebub the god of ekron?" miss austin has the merit (in our judgment most essential) of being evidently a christian writer: a merit which is much enhanced, both on the score of good taste, and of practical utility, by her religion being not at all obtrusive. she might defy the most fastidious critic to call any of her novels (as _caelebs_ was designated, we will not say altogether without reason), a "dramatic sermon." the subject is rather alluded to, and that incidentally, than studiously brought forward and dwelt upon. in fact she is more sparing of it than would be thought desirable by some persons; perhaps even by herself, had she consulted merely her own sentiments; but she probably introduced it as far as she thought would be generally acceptable and profitable: for when the purpose of inculcating a religious principle is made too palpably prominent, many readers, if they do not throw aside the book with disgust, are apt to fortify themselves with that respectful kind of apathy with which they undergo a regular sermon, and prepare themselves as they do to swallow a dose of medicine, endeavouring to _get it down_ in large gulps, without tasting it more than is necessary. the moral lessons also of this lady's novels, though clearly and impressively conveyed, are not offensively put forward, but spring incidentally from the circumstances of the story; they are not forced upon the reader, but he is left to collect them (though without any difficulty) for himself: hers is that unpretending kind of instruction which is furnished by real life; and certainly no author has ever conformed more closely to real life, as well in the incidents, as in the characters and descriptions. her fables appear to us to be, in their own way, nearly faultless; they do not consist (like those of some of the writers who have attempted this kind of common-life novel writing) of a string of unconnected events which have little or no bearing on one main plot, and are introduced evidently for the sole purpose of bringing in characters and conversations; but have all that compactness of plan and unity of action which is generally produced by a sacrifice of probability: yet they have little or nothing that is not probable; the story proceeds without the aid of extraordinary accidents; the events which take place are the necessary or natural consequences of what has preceded; and yet (which is a very rare merit indeed) the final catastrophe is scarcely ever clearly foreseen from the beginning, and very often comes, upon the generality of readers at least, quite unexpected. we know not whether miss austin ever had access to the precepts of aristotle; but there are few, if any, writers of fiction who have illustrated them more successfully. the vivid distinctness of description, the minute fidelity of detail, and air of unstudied ease in the scenes represented, which are no less necessary than probability of incident, to carry the reader's imagination along with the story, and give fiction the perfect appearance of reality, she possesses in a high degree; and the object is accomplished without resorting to those deviations from the ordinary plan of narrative in the third person, which have been patronized by some eminent masters. we allude to the two other methods of conducting a fictitious story, viz., either by narrative in the first person, when the hero is made to tell his own tale, or by a series of letters; both of which we conceive have been adopted with a view of heightening the resemblance of the fiction to reality. at first sight, indeed, there might appear no reason why a story told in the first person should have more the air of a real history than in the third; especially as the majority of real histories actually are in the third person; nevertheless, experience seems to show that such is the case: provided there be no want of skill in the writer, the resemblance to real life, of a fiction thus conducted, will approach much the nearest (other points being equal) to a deception, and the interest felt in it, to that which we feel in real transactions. we need only instance defoe's novels, which, in spite of much improbability, we believe have been oftener mistaken for true narratives, than any fictions that ever were composed. colonel newport is well known to have been cited as an historical authority; and we have ourselves found great difficulty in convincing many of our friends that defoe was not himself the citizen, who relates the plague of london. the reason probably is, that in the ordinary form of narrative, the writer is not content to exhibit, like a real historian, a bare detail of such circumstances as might actually have come under his knowledge; but presents us with a description of what is passing in the minds of the parties, and gives an account of their feelings and motives, as well as their most private conversations in various places at once. all this is very amusing, but perfectly unnatural: the merest simpleton could hardly mistake a fiction of _this_ kind for a true history, unless he believed the writer to be endued with omniscience and omnipresence, or to be aided by familiar spirits, doing the office of homer's muses, whom he invokes to tell him all that could not otherwise be known; [greek: _umeis gar theoi eote pareote te, iote te panta._] let the events, therefore, which are detailed, and the characters described, be ever so natural, the way in which they are presented to us is of a kind of supernatural cast, perfectly unlike any real history that ever was or can be written, and thus requiring a greater stretch of imagination in the reader. on the other hand, the supposed narrator of his own history never pretends to dive into the thoughts and feelings of the other parties; he merely describes his own, and gives his conjectures as to those of the rest, just as a real autobiographer might do; and thus an author is enabled to assimilate his fiction to reality, without withholding that delineation of the inward workings of the human heart, which is so much coveted. nevertheless novels in the first person have not succeeded so well as to make that mode of writing become very general. it is objected to them, not without reason, that they want a _hero_: the person intended to occupy that post being the narrator himself, who of course cannot so describe his own conduct and character as to make the reader thoroughly acquainted with him; though the attempt frequently produces an offensive appearance of egotism. the plan of a fictitious correspondence seems calculated in some measure to combine the advantages of the other two; since, by allowing each personage to be the speaker in turn, the feelings of each may be described by himself, and his character and conduct by another. but these novels are apt to become excessively tedious; since, to give the letters the appearance of reality (without which the main object proposed would be defeated), they must contain a very large proportion of matter which has no bearing at all upon the story. there is also generally a sort of awkward disjointed appearance in a novel which proceeds entirely in letters, and holds together, as it were, by continual splicing. miss austin, though she has in a few places introduced letters with great effect, has on the whole conducted her novels on the ordinary plan, describing, without scruple, private conversations and uncommunicated feelings: but she has not been forgetful of the important maxim, so long ago illustrated by homer, and afterwards enforced by aristotle,[ ] of saying as little as possible in her own person, and giving a dramatic air to the narrative, by introducing frequent conversations; which she conducts with a regard to character hardly exceeded even by shakespeare himself. like him, she shows as admirable a discrimination in the characters of fools as of people of sense; a merit which is far from common. to invent, indeed, a conversation full of wisdom or of wit, requires that the writer should himself possess ability; but the converse does not hold good: it is no fool that can describe fools well; and many who have succeeded pretty well in painting superior characters, have failed in giving individuality to those weaker ones, which it is necessary to introduce in order to give a faithful representation of real life: they exhibit to us mere folly in the abstract, forgetting that to the eye of a skilful naturalist the insects on a leaf present as wide differences as exist between the elephant and the lion. slender, and shallow, and aguecheek, as shakespeare has painted them, though equally fools, resemble one another no more than "richard," and "macbeth," and "julius caesar"; and miss austin's "mrs. bennet," "mr. rushworth," and "miss bates," are no more alike than her "darcy," "knightley," and "edmund bertram." some have complained, indeed, of finding her fools too much like nature, and consequently tiresome; there is no disputing about tastes; all we can say is, that such critics must (whatever deference they may outwardly pay to received opinions) find the "merry wives of windsor" and "twelfth night" very tiresome; and that those who look with pleasure at wilkie's pictures, or those of the dutch school, must admit that excellence of imitation may confer attraction on that which would be insipid or disagreeable in the reality. [ ] [greek: _ouden anthes_] arist. poet. her minuteness of detail has also been found fault with; but even where it produces, at the time, a degree of tediousness, we know not whether that can justly be reckoned a blemish, which is absolutely essential to a very high excellence. now, it is absolutely impossible, without this, to produce that thorough acquaintance with the characters, which is necessary to make the reader heartily interested in them. let any one cut out from the _iliad_ or from shakespeare's plays every thing (we are far from saying that either might not lose some parts with advantage, but let him reject every thing) which is absolutely devoid of importance and of interest _in itself_; and he will find that what is left will have lost more than half its charms. we are convinced that some writers have diminished the effect of their works by being scrupulous to admit nothing into them which had not some absolute, intrinsic, and independent merit. they have acted like those who strip off the leaves of a fruit tree, as being of themselves good for nothing, with the view of securing more nourishment to the fruit, which in fact cannot attain its full maturity and flavour without them. * * * * * to say the truth, we suspect one of miss austin's great merits in our eyes to be, the insight she gives us into the peculiarities of female character. authoresses can scarcely ever forget the _esprit de corps_-- can scarcely ever forget that they _are authoresses_. they seem to feel a sympathetic shudder at exposing naked a female mind. _elles se peignent en buste_, and leave the mysteries of womanhood to be described by some interloping male, like richardson or marivaux, who is turned out before he has seen half the rites, and is forced to spin from his own conjectures the rest. now from this fault miss austin is free. her heroines are what one knows women must be, though one never can get them to acknowledge it. as liable to "fall in love first," as anxious to attract the attention of agreeable men, as much taken with a striking manner, or a handsome face, as unequally gifted with constancy and firmness, as liable to have their affections biassed by convenience or fashion, as we, on our part, will admit men to be. as some illustration of what we mean, we refer our readers to the conversation between miss crawford and fanny, vol. iii, p. . fanny's meeting with her father, p. ; her reflections after reading edmund's letter, ; her happiness (good, and heroine though she be) in the midst of the misery of all her friends, when she finds that edmund has decidedly broken with her rival; feelings, all of them, which, under the influence of strong passion, must alloy the purest mind, but with which scarcely any _authoress_ but miss austin would have ventured to temper the aetherial materials of a heroine. but we must proceed to the publication of which the title is prefixed to this article. it contains, it seems, the earliest and the latest productions of the author; the first of them having been purchased, we are told, many years back by a bookseller, who, for some reason unexplained, thought proper to alter his mind and withhold it. we do not much applaud his taste; for though it is decidedly inferior to her other works, having less plot, and what there is, less artificially wrought up, and also less exquisite nicety of moral painting; yet the same kind of excellences which characterise the other novels may be perceived in this, in a degree which would have been highly creditable to most other writers of the same school, and which would have entitled the author to considerable praise, had she written nothing better. we already begin to fear, that we have indulged too much in extracts, and we must save some room for _persuasion_, or we could not resist giving a specimen of john thorpe, with his horse that _cannot_ go less than miles an hour, his refusal to drive his sister "because she has such thick ankles," and his sober consumption of five pints of port a day; altogether the best portrait of a species, which, though almost extinct, cannot yet be quite classed among the palaeotheria, the bang-up oxonian. miss thorpe, the jilt of middling life, is, in her way, quite as good, though she has not the advantage of being the representative of a rare or a diminishing species. we fear few of our readers, however they may admire the naïveté, will admit the truth of poor john morland's postscript, "i can never expect to know such another woman." the latter of these novels, however, _persuasion_, which is more strictly to be considered as a posthumous work, possesses that superiority which might be expected from the more mature age at which it was written, and is second, we think, to none of the former ones, if not superior to all. in the humorous delineation of character it does not abound quite so much as some of the others, though it has great merit even on that score; but it has more of that tender and yet elevated kind of interest which is aimed at by the generality of novels, and in pursuit of which they seldom fail of running into romantic extravagance: on the whole, it is one of the most elegant fictions of common life we ever remember to have met with. sir walter elliot, a silly and conceited baronet, has three daughters, the eldest two, unmarried, and the third, mary, the wife of a neighbouring gentleman, mr. charles musgrove, heir to a considerable fortune, and living in a genteel cottage in the neighbourhood of the great house which he is hereafter to inherit. the second daughter, anne, who is the heroine, and the only one of the family possessed of good sense (a quality which miss austin is as sparing of in her novels, as we fear her great mistress, nature, has been in real life), when on a visit to her sister, is, by that sort of instinct which generally points out to all parties the person on whose judgment and temper they may rely, appealed to in all the little family differences which arise, and which are described with infinite spirit and detail. * * * * * we ventured, in a former article, to remonstrate against the dethronement of the once powerful god of love, in his own most especial domain, the novel; and to suggest that, in shunning the ordinary fault of recommending by examples a romantic and uncalculating extravagance of passion, miss austin had rather fallen into the opposite extreme of exclusively patronizing what are called prudent matches, and too much disparaging sentimental enthusiasm. we urged, that, mischievous as is the extreme on this side, it is not the one into which the young folks of the present day are the most likely to run: the prevailing fault is not now, whatever it may have been, to sacrifice all for love: venit enim magnum donandi parca juventus, nec tantum veneris quantum studiosa culinae. we may now, without retracting our opinion, bestow unqualified approbation; for the distresses of the present heroine all arise from her prudent refusal to listen to the suggestions of her heart. the catastrophe, however, is happy, and we are left in doubt whether it would have been better for her or not, to accept the first proposal; and this we conceive is precisely the proper medium; for, though we would not have prudential calculations the sole principle to be regarded in marriage, we are far from advocating their exclusion. to disregard the advice of sober-minded friends on an important point of conduct, is an imprudence we would by no means recommend; indeed, it is a species of selfishness, if, in listening only to the dictates of passion, a man sacrifices to its gratification the happiness of those most dear to him as well as his own; though it is not now-a-days the most prevalent form of selfishness. but it is no condemnation of a sentiment to say, that it becomes blameable when it interferes with duty, and is uncontrolled by conscience: the desire of riches, power, or distinction--the taste for ease and comfort--are to be condemned when they transgress these bounds; and love, if it keep within them, even though it be somewhat tinged with enthusiasm, and a little at variance with what the worldly call prudence, _i.e._, regard for pecuniary advantage, may afford a better moral discipline to the mind than most other passions. it will not at least be denied, that it has often proved a powerful stimulus to exertion where others have failed, and has called forth talents unknown before even to the possessor. what, though the pursuit may be fruitless, and the hopes visionary? the result may be a real and substantial benefit, though of another kind; the vineyard may have been cultivated by digging in it for the treasure which is never to be found. what though the perfections with which imagination has decorated the beloved object, may, in fact, exist but in a slender degree? still they are believed in and admired as real; if not, the love is such as does not merit the name; and it is proverbially true that men become assimilated to the character (_i.e._, what they _think_ the character) of the being they fervently adore: thus, as in the noblest exhibitions of the stage, though that which is contemplated be but a fiction, it may be realized in the mind of the beholder; and, though grasping at a cloud, he may become worthy of possessing a real goddess. many a generous sentiment, and many a virtuous resolution, have been called forth and matured by admiration of one, who may herself perhaps have been incapable of either. it matters not what the object is that a man aspires to be worthy of, and proposes as a model for imitation, if he does but _believe_ it to be excellent. moreover, all doubts of success (and they are seldom, if ever, entirely wanting) must either produce or exercise humility; and the endeavour to study another's interests and inclinations, and prefer them to one's own, may promote a habit of general benevolence which may outlast the present occasion. every thing, in short, which tends to abstract a man in any degree, or in any way, from self,--from self-admiration and self-interest, has, so far at least, a beneficial influence in forming the character. on the whole, miss austin's works may safely be recommended, not only as among the most unexceptionable of their class, but as combining, in an eminent degree, instruction with amusement, though without the direct effort at the former, of which we have complained, as sometimes defeating its object. for those who cannot, or will not, _learn_ anything from productions of this kind, she has provided entertainment which entitles her to thanks; for mere innocent amusement is in itself a good, when it interferes with no greater: especially as it may occupy the place of some other that may _not_ be innocent. the eastern monarch who proclaimed a reward to him who should discover a new pleasure, would have deserved well of mankind had he stipulated that it should be blameless. those, again, who delight in the study of human nature, may improve in the knowledge of it, and in the profitable application of that knowledge, by the perusal of such fictions as those before us. w. e. gladstone on tennyson [from _the quarterly review_, october, ] . _tennyson's poems_. in two volumes. london, . . _the princess: a medley_. london, . . _in memoriam_. london, . . _maud, and other poems_. london, . . _idylls of the king_. london, . mr. tennyson published his first volume, under the title of "poems chiefly lyrical," in , and his second, with the name simply of "poems," in . in he reappeared before the world in two volumes, partly made up from the _débris_ of his earlier pieces; and from this time forward he came into the enjoyment of a popularity at once great, growing, and select. with a manly resolution, which gave promise of the rare excellence he was progressively to attain, he had at this time amputated altogether from the collection about one-half of the contents of his earliest work, with some considerable portion of the second; he had almost rewritten or carefully corrected other important pieces, and had added a volume of new compositions. the latter handiwork showed a great advance upon the earlier; as, indeed, had shown upon . from the very first, however, he had been noteworthy in performance as well as in promise, and it was plain that, whatever else might happen, at least neglect was not to be his lot. but, in the natural heat of youth he had at the outset certainly mixed up some trivial with a greater number of worthy productions, and had shown an impatience of criticism by which, however excusable, he was sure to be himself the chief sufferer. his higher gifts, too, were of the quality which, by the changeless law of nature, cannot ripen fast; and there was, accordingly, some portion both of obscurity and of crudity in the results of his youthful labours. men of slighter materials would have come more quickly to their maturity, and might have given less occasion not only for cavil but for animadversion. it was yet more creditable to him, than it could be even to the just among his critics, that he should, and while yet young, have applied himself with so resolute a hand to the work of castigation. he thus gave a remarkable proof alike of his reverence for his art, of his insight into its powers, of the superiority he had acquired to all the more commonplace illusions of self-love, and perhaps of his presaging consciousness that the great, if they mean to fulfil the measure of their greatness, should always be fastidious against themselves. it would be superfluous to enter upon any general criticism of this collection, which was examined when still recent in this review, and a large portion of which is established in the familiar recollection and favour of the public. we may, however, say that what may be termed at large the classical idea (though it is not that of troas nor of the homeric period) has, perhaps, never been grasped with greater force and justice than in "oenone," nor exhibited in a form of more consummate polish. "ulysses" is likewise a highly finished poem; but it is open to the remark that it exhibits (so to speak) a corner-view of a character which was in itself a _cosmos_. never has political philosophy been wedded to the poetic form more happily than in the three short pieces on england and her institutions, unhappily without title, and only to be cited, like writs of law and papal bulls, by their first words. even among the rejected pieces there are specimens of a deep metaphysical insight; and this power reappears with an increasing growth of ethical and social wisdom in "locksley hall" and elsewhere. the wordsworthian poem of "dora" is admirable in its kind. from the firmness of its drawing, and the depth and singular purity of its colour, "godiva" stood, if we judge aright, as at once a great performance and a great pledge. but, above all, the fragmentary piece on the death of arthur was a fit prelude to that lordly music which is now sounding in our ears. if we pass onward from these volumes, it is only because space forbids a further enumeration. the "princess" was published in . the author has termed it "a medley": why, we know not. it approaches more nearly to the character of a regular drama, with the stage directions written into verse, than any other of his works, and it is composed consecutively throughout on the basis of one idea. it exhibits an effort to amalgamate the place and function of woman with that of man, and the failure of that effort, which duly winds up with the surrender and marriage of the fairest and chief enthusiast. it may be doubted whether the idea is one well suited to exhibition in a quasi-dramatic form. certainly the mode of embodying it, so far as it is dramatic, is not successful; for here again the persons are little better than mere _personae_. they are _media_, and weak _media_, for the conveyance of the ideas. the poem is, nevertheless, one of high interest, on account of the force, purity and nobleness of the main streams of thought, which are clothed in language full of all mr. tennyson's excellences; and also because it marks the earliest effort of his mind in the direction of his latest and greatest achievements. * * * * * with passages like these still upon the mind and ear, and likewise having in view many others in the "princess" and elsewhere, we may confidently assert it as one of mr. tennyson's brightest distinctions that he is now what from the very first he strove to be, and what when he wrote "godiva" he gave ample promise of becoming--the poet of woman. we do not mean, nor do we know, that his hold over women as his readers is greater than his command or influence over men; but that he has studied, sounded, painted woman in form, in motion, in character, in office, in capability, with rare devotion, power, and skill; and the poet who best achieves this end does also most and best for man. in mr. tennyson gave to the world, under the title of "in memoriam," perhaps the richest oblation ever offered by the affection of friendship at the tomb of the departed. the memory of arthur henry hallam, who died suddenly in , at the age of twenty-two, will doubtless live chiefly in connection with this volume; but he is well known to have been one who, if the term of his days had been prolonged, would have needed no aid from a friendly hand, would have built for himself an enduring monument, and would have bequeathed to his country a name in all likelihood greater than that of his very distinguished father. there was no one among those who were blessed with his friendship, nay, as we see, not even mr. tennyson,[ ] who did not feel at once bound closely to him by commanding affection, and left far behind by the rapid, full, and rich development of his ever-searching mind; by his all comprehensive tenderness, all subtilising intellect. [ ] see "in memoriam," pp. , . it would be easy to show what, in the varied forms of human excellence, he might, had life been granted him, have accomplished; much more difficult to point the finger and to say, "this he never could have done." enough remains from among his early efforts to accredit whatever mournful witness may now be borne of him. but what can be a nobler tribute than this, that for seventeen years after his death a poet, fast rising towards the lofty summits of his art, found that young fading image the richest source of his inspiration, and of thoughts that gave him buoyancy for a flight such as he had not hitherto attained? it would be very difficult to convey a just idea of this volume either by narrative or by quotation. in the series of monodies or meditations which compose it, and which follow in long series without weariness or sameness, the poet never moves away a step from the grave of his friend, but, while circling round it, has always a new point of view. strength of love, depth of grief, aching sense of loss, have driven him forth as it were on a quest of consolation, and he asks it of nature, thought, religion, in a hundred forms which a rich and varied imagination continually suggests, but all of them connected by one central point, the recollection of the dead. this work he prosecutes, not in vain effeminate complaint, but in a manly recognition of the fruit and profit even of baffled love, in noble suggestions of the future, in heart-soothing and heart-chastening thoughts of what the dead was and of what he is, and of what one who has been, and therefore still is, in near contact with him is bound to be. the whole movement of the poem is between the mourner and the mourned: it may be called one long soliloquy; but it has this mark of greatness, that, though the singer is himself a large part of the subject, it never degenerates into egotism-- for he speaks typically on behalf of humanity at large, and in his own name, like dante on his mystic journey, teaches deep lessons of life and conscience to us all. * * * * * by the time "in memoriam" had sunk into the public mind, mr. tennyson had taken his rank as our first then living poet. over the fresh hearts and understandings of the young, notwithstanding his obscurities, his metaphysics, his contempt of gewgaws, he had established an extraordinary sway. we ourselves, with some thousands of other spectators, saw him receive in that noble structure of wren, the theatre of oxford, the decoration of d.c.l., which we perceive he always wears on his title-page. among his colleagues in the honour were sir de lacy evans and sir john burgoyne, fresh from the stirring exploits of the crimea; but even patriotism, at the fever heat of war, could not command a more fervent enthusiasm for the old and gallant warriors than was evoked by the presence of mr. tennyson. in the year mr. tennyson proceeded to publish his "maud," the least popular, and probably the least worthy of popularity, among his more considerable works. a somewhat heavy dreaminess, and a great deal of obscurity, hang about this poem; and the effort required to dispel the darkness of the general scheme is not repaid when we discover what it hides. the main thread of "maud" seems to be this:--a love once accepted, then disappointed, leads to blood-shedding, and onward to madness with lucid alternations. the insanity expresses itself in the ravings of the homicide lover, who even imagines himself among the dead, in a clamour and confusion closely resembling an ill-regulated bedlam, but which, if the description be a faithful one, would for ever deprive the grave of its title to the epithet of silent. it may be good frenzy, but we doubt its being as good poetry. of all this there may, we admit, be an esoteric view: but we speak of the work as it offers itself to the common eye. both maud and the lover are too nebulous by far; and they remind us of the boneless and pulpy personages by whom, as dr. whewell assures us, the planet jupiter is inhabited, if inhabited at all. but the most doubtful part of the poem is its climax. a vision of the beloved image (p. ) "spoke of a hope for the world in the coming wars," righteous wars, of course, and the madman begins to receive light and comfort; but, strangely enough, it seems to be the wars, and not the image, in which the source of consolation lies (p. ). no more shall commerce be all in all, and peace pipe on her pastoral hillock a languid note, and watch her harvest ripen, her herd increase. ... a peace that was full of wrongs and shames, horrible, hateful, monstrous, not to be told ... for the long long canker of peace is over and done: and now by the side of the black and the baltic deep, and deathful grinning mouths of the fortress, names the blood-red blossom of war with a heart of fire! what interpretation are we meant to give to all this sound and fury? we would fain have put it down as intended to be the finishing-stroke in the picture of a mania which has reached its zenith. we might call in aid of this construction more happy and refreshing passages from other poems, as when mr. tennyson is certain, if knowledge brings the sword, that knowledge takes the sword away.[ ] [ ] "poems," p. , ed. . see also "locksley hall," p. . and again in "the golden dream,"-- when shall all men's good be each man's rule, and universal peace lie like a shaft of light across the land? and yet once more in a noble piece of "in memoriam,"-- ring out old shapes of foul disease, ring out the narrowing lust of gold; ring out the thousand wars of old, ring in the thousand years of peace. but on the other hand we must recollect that very long ago, when the apparition of invasion from across the channel had as yet spoiled no man's slumbers, mr. tennyson's blood was already up:[ ]-- for the french, the pope may shrive them ... and the merry devil drive them through the water and the fire. [ ] "poems chiefly lyrical," , p. . and unhappily in the beginning of "maud," when still in the best use of such wits as he possesses, its hero deals largely in kindred extravagances (p. ):-- when a mammonite mother kills her babe for a burial fee, and timour-mammon grins on a pile of children's bones, is it peace or war? better war! loud war by land and by sea, war with a thousand battles, and shaking a hundred thrones. he then anticipates that, upon an enemy's attacking this country, "the smooth-faced, snub-nosed rogue," who typifies the bulk of the british people, "the nation of shopkeepers," as it has been emasculated and corrupted by excess of peace, will leap from his counter and till to charge the enemy; and thus it is to be reasonably hoped that we shall attain to the effectual renovation of society. we frankly own that our divining rod does not enable us to say whether the poet intends to be in any and what degree sponsor to these sentiments, or whether he has put them forth in the exercise of his undoubted right to make vivid and suggestive representations of even the partial and narrow aspects of some endangered truth. this is at best, indeed, a perilous business, for out of such fervid partial representations nearly all grave human error springs; and it should only be pursued with caution and in season. but we do not recollect that was a season of serious danger from a mania for peace and its pursuits; and even if it had been so, we fear that the passages we have quoted far overpass all the bounds of moderation and good sense. it is, indeed, true that peace has its moral perils and temptations for degenerate man, as has every other blessing, without exception, that he can receive from the hand of god. it is moreover not less true that, amidst the clash of arms, the noblest forms of character may be reared, and the highest acts of duty done; that these great and precious results may be due to war as their cause; and that one high form of sentiment in particular, the love of country, receives a powerful and general stimulus from the bloody strife. but this is as the furious cruelty of pharaoh made place for the benign virtue of his daughter; as the butchering sentence of herod raised without doubt many a mother's love into heroic sublimity; as plague, as famine, as fire, as flood, as every curse and every scourge that is wielded by an angry providence for the chastisement of man, is an appointed instrument for tempering human souls in the seven-times heated furnace of affliction, up to the standard of angelic and archangelic virtue. war, indeed, has the property of exciting much generous and noble feeling on a large scale; but with this special recommendation it has, in its modern forms especially, peculiar and unequalled evils. as it has a wider sweep of desolating power than the rest, so it has the peculiar quality that it is more susceptible of being decked in gaudy trappings, and of fascinating the imagination of those whose passions it inflames. but it is on this very account a perilous delusion to teach that war is a cure for moral evil in any other sense than as the sister tribulations are. the eulogies of the frantic hero in "maud," however, deviate into grosser folly. it is natural that such vagaries should overlook the fixed laws of providence; and under these laws the mass of mankind is composed of men, women, and children who can but just ward off hunger, cold, and nakedness; whose whole ideas of mammon-worship are comprised in the search for their daily food, clothing, shelter, fuel; whom any casualty reduces to positive want; and whose already low estimate is yet further lowered and ground down when "the blood-red blossom of war flames with its heart of fire." but what is a little strange is, that war should be recommended as a specific for the particular evil of mammon-worship. such it never was, even in the days when the greek heroes longed for the booty of troy, and anticipated lying by the wives of its princes and its citizens. still it had, in times now gone by, ennobling elements and tendencies of the less sordid kind. but one inevitable characteristic of modern war is, that it is associated throughout, in all its particulars, with a vast and most irregular formation of commercial enterprise. there is no incentive to mammon-worship so remarkable as that which it affords. the political economy of war is now one of its most commanding aspects. every farthing, with the smallest exceptions conceivable, of the scores or hundreds of millions which a war may cost, goes directly to stimulate production, though it is intended ultimately for waste or for destruction. apart from the fact that war destroys every rule of public thrift, and saps honesty itself in the use of the public treasure for which it makes such unbounded calls, it therefore is the greatest feeder of that lust of gold which we are told is the essence of commerce, though we had hoped it was only its occasional besetting sin. it is, however, more than this; for the regular commerce of peace is tameness itself compared with the gambling spirit which war, through the rapid shiftings and high prices which it brings, always introduces into trade. in its moral operation it more resembles, perhaps, the finding of a new gold-field, than anything else. meantime, as the most wicked mothers do not kill their offspring from a taste for the practice in the abstract, but under the pressure of want, and as war always brings home want to a larger circle of the people than feel it in peace, we ask the hero of "maud" to let us know whether war is more likely to reduce or to multiply the horrors which he denounces? will more babies be poisoned amidst comparative ease and plenty, or when, as before the fall of napoleon, provisions were twice as dear as they now are, and wages not much more than half as high? romans and carthaginians were pretty much given to war: but no nations were more sedulous in the cult of mammon. again, the scriptures are pretty strong against mammon-worship, but they do not recommend this original and peculiar cure. nay, once more: what sad errors must have crept into the text of the prophet isaiah when he is made to desire that our swords shall be converted into ploughshares, and our spears into pruning-hooks! but we have this solid consolation after all, that mr. tennyson's war poetry is not comparable to his poetry of peace. indeed he is not here successful at all: the work, of a lower order than his, demands the abrupt force and the lyric fire which do not seem to be among his varied and brilliant gifts. we say more. mr. tennyson is too intimately and essentially the poet of the nineteenth century to separate himself from its leading characteristics, the progress of physical science and a vast commercial, mechanical, and industrial development. whatever he may say or do in an occasional fit, he cannot long either cross or lose its sympathies; for while he elevates as well as adorns it, he is flesh of its flesh and bone of its bone. we fondly believe it is his business to do much towards the solution of that problem, so fearful from its magnitude, how to harmonise this new draught of external power and activity with the old and more mellow wine of faith, self devotion, loyalty, reverence, and discipline. and all that we have said is aimed, not at mr. tennyson, but at a lay-figure which he has set up, and into the mouth of which he has put words that cannot be his words. we return to our proper task, "maud," if an unintelligible or even, for mr. tennyson, an inferior work, is still a work which no inferior man could have produced; nor would it be difficult to extract abundance of lines, and even passages, obviously worthy of their author. and if this poem would have made while alone a volume too light for his fame, the defect is supplied by the minor pieces, some of which are admirable. "the brook," with its charming interstitial soliloquy, and the "letters" will, we are persuaded, always rank among mr. tennyson's happy efforts; while the "ode on the death of the duke of wellington," written from the heart and sealed by the conscience of the poet, is worthy of that great and genuine piece of manhood, its immortal subject. we must touch for a moment upon what has already been mentioned as a separate subject of interest in the "princess." we venture to describe it as in substance a drama, with a plot imperfectly worked and with characters insufficiently chiselled and relieved. its author began by presenting, and for many years continued to present, personal as well as natural pictures of individual attitude or movement; and, as in "oenone" and "godiva," he carried them to a very high pitch of perfection. but he scarcely attempted, unless in his more homely narrations, anything like grouping or combination. it now appears that for the higher effort he has been gradually accumulating and preparing his resources. in the sections of the prolonged soliloquy of "maud" we see a crude attempt at representing combined interests and characters with heroic elevation, under the special difficulty of appearing, like mathews, in one person only; in the "princess" we had a happier effort, though one that still left more to be desired. each, however, in its own stage was a preparation for an enterprise at once bolder and more mature. we now come to the recent work of the poet--the "idylls of the king." the field, which mr. tennyson has chosen for this his recent and far greatest exploit, is one of so deep and wide-reaching an interest as to demand some previous notice of a special kind. lofty example in comprehensive forms is, without doubt, one of the great standing needs of our race. to this want it has been from the first one main purpose of the highest poetry to answer. the quest of beauty leads all those who engage in it to the ideal or normal man as the summit of attainable excellence. by no arbitrary choice, but in obedience to unchanging laws, the painter and the sculptor must found their art upon the study of the human form, and must reckon its successful reproduction as their noblest and most consummate exploit. the concern of poetry with corporal beauty is, though important, yet secondary: this art uses form as an auxiliary, as a subordinate though proper part in the delineation of mind and character, of which it is appointed to be a visible organ. but with mind and character themselves lies the highest occupation of the muse. homer, the patriarch of poets, has founded his two immortal works upon two of these ideal developments in achilles and ulysses; and has adorned them with others, such as penelope and helen, hector and diomed, every one an immortal product, though as compared with the others either less consummate or less conspicuous. though deformed by the mire of after-tradition, all the great characters of homer have become models and standards, each in its own kind, for what was, or was supposed to be, its distinguishing gift. at length, after many generations and great revolutions of mind and of events, another age arrived, like, if not equal, in creative power to that of homer. the gospel had given to the whole life of man a real resurrection, and its second birth was followed by its second youth. this rejuvenescence was allotted to those wonderful centuries which popular ignorance confounds with the dark ages properly so called--an identification about as rational as if we were to compare the life within the womb to the life of intelligent though early childhood. awakened to aspirations at once fresh and ancient, the mind of man took hold of the venerable ideals bequeathed to us by the greeks as a precious part of its inheritance, and gave them again to the light, appropriated but also renewed. the old materials came forth, but not alone; for the types which human genius had formerly conceived were now submitted to the transfiguring action of a law from on high. nature herself prompted the effort to bring the old patterns of worldly excellence and greatness--or rather the copies of those patterns still legible, though depraved, and still rich with living suggestion--into harmony with that higher pattern, once seen by the eyes and handled by the hands of men, and faithfully delineated in the gospels for the profit of all generations. the life of our saviour, in its external aspect, was that of a teacher. it was in principle a model for all, but it left space and scope for adaptations to the lay life of christians in general, such as those by whom the every-day business of the world is to be carried on. it remained for man to make his best endeavour to exhibit the great model on its terrestrial side, in its contact with the world. here is the true source of that new and noble cycle which the middle ages have handed down to us in duality of form, but with a nearly identical substance, under the royal sceptres of arthur in england and of charlemagne in france. of the two great systems of romance, one has lancelot, the other has orlando for its culminating point; these heroes being exhibited as the respective specimens in whose characters the fullest development of man, such as he was then conceived, was to be recognised. the one put forward arthur for the visible head of christendom, signifying and asserting its social unity; the other had charlemagne. each arrays about the sovereign a fellowship of knights. in them valour is the servant of honour; in an age of which violence is the besetting danger, the protection of the weak is elevated into a first principle of action; and they betoken an order of things in which force should be only known as allied with virtue, while they historically foreshadow the magnificent aristocracy of mediaeval europe. the one had guinevere for the rarest gem of beauty, the other had angelica. each of them contained figures of approximation to the knightly model, and in each these figures, though on the whole secondary, yet in certain aspects surpassed it: such were sir tristram, sir galahad, sir lamoracke, sir gawain, sir geraint, in the arthurian cycle; rinaldo and ruggiero, with others, in the carlovingian. they were not twin systems, but they were rather twin investitures of the same scheme of ideals and feelings. their consanguinity to the primitive homeric types is proved by a multitude of analogies of character and by the commanding place which they assign to hector as the flower of human excellence. without doubt, this preference was founded on his supposed moral superiority to all his fellows in homer; and the secondary prizes of strength, valour, and the like, were naturally allowed to group themselves around what, under the christian scheme, had become the primary ornament of man. the near relation of the two cycles to one another may be sufficiently seen in the leading references we have made, and it runs into a multitude of details both great and small, of which we can only note a few. in both the chief hero passes through a prolonged term of madness. judas, in the college of apostles, is represented under charlemagne in gano di maganza and his house, who appear, without any development in action, in the arthurian romance as "the traitours of magouns," and who are likewise reflected in sir modred, sir agravain, and others; while the mahometan element, which has a natural place ready made in a history that acknowledges charlemagne and france, for its centres, finds its way sympathetically into one which is bound for the most part by the shores of albion. both schemes cling to the tradition of the unity of the empire as well as of christendom; and accordingly, what was historical in charlemagne is represented in the case of arthur by an imaginary conquest reaching as far as rome, the capital of the west: even the sword _durindana_ has its counterpart in the sword _excalibur_. the moral systems of the two cycles are essentially allied: and perhaps the differences between them may be due in greater or in less part to the fact that they come to us through different _media_. we of the nineteenth century read the carlovingian romance in the pages of ariosto and bojardo, who gave to their materials the colour of their times, and of a civilization rank in some respects, while still unripe in some others. the genius of poetry was not at the same period applying its transmuting force to the romance of the round table. the date of sir thomas mallory, who lived under edward iv, is something earlier than that of the great italian romances; he appears, too, to have been on the whole content with the humble offices of a compiler and a chronicler, and we may conceive that his spirit and diction are still older than his date. the consequence is, that we are brought into more immediate and fresher contact with the original forms of this romance. so that, as they present themselves to us, the carlovingian cycle is the child of the latest middle age, while the arthurian represents the earlier. much might be said on the differences which have thus arisen, and on those which may be due to a more northern and more southern extraction respectively. suffice it to say that the romance of the round table, far less vivid and brilliant, far ruder as a work of skill and art, has more of the innocence, the emotion, the transparency, the inconsistency of childhood. its political action is less specifically christian than that of the rival scheme, its individual more so. it is more directly and seriously aimed at the perfection of man. it is more free from gloss and varnish; it tells its own tale with more entire simplicity. the ascetic element is more strongly, and at the same time more quaintly, developed. it has a higher conception of the nature of woman; and like the homeric poems, appears to eschew exhibiting her perfections in alliance with warlike force and exploits. so also love, while largely infused into the story, is more subordinate to the exhibition of other qualities. again, the romance of the round table bears witness to a more distinct and keener sense of sin: and on the whole, a deeper, broader, and more manly view of human character, life, and duty. it is in effect more like what the carlovingian cycle might have been had dante moulded it. it hardly needs to be added that it is more mythical, inasmuch as arthur of the round table is a personage, we fear, wholly doubtful, though not impossible; while the broad back of the historic charlemagne, like another atlas, may well sustain a world of mythical accretions. this slight comparison, be it remarked, refers exclusively to what may be termed the latest "redactions" of the two cycles of romance. their early forms, in the lays of troubadours, and in the pages of the oldest chroniclers, offer a subject of profound interest, and one still unexhausted, although it has been examined by mr. panizzi and m. fauriel,[ ] but one which is quite beyond the scope of our present subject. [ ] essay on the romantic narrative poetry of the italians: london, . histoire de la poésie provençale: paris, . it is to this rich repository that mr. tennyson has resorted for his material. he has shown, as we think, rare judgment in the choice. the arthurian romance has every recommendation that should win its way to the homage of a great poet. it is national: it is christian. it is also human in the largest and deepest sense; and, therefore, though highly national, it is universal; for it rests upon those depths and breadths of our nature to which all its truly great developments in all nations are alike essentially and closely related. the distance is enough for atmosphere, not too much for detail; enough for romance, not too much for sympathy. a poet of the nineteenth century, the laureate has adopted characters, incidents, and even language in the main, instead of attempting to project them on a basis of his own in the region of illimitable fancy. but he has done much more than this. evidently by reading and by deep meditation, as well as by sheer force of genius, he has penetrated himself down to the very core of his being, with all that is deepest and best in the spirit of the time, or the representation, with which he deals; and as others, using old materials, have been free to alter them in the sense of vulgarity or licence, so he has claimed and used the right to sever and recombine, to enlarge, retrench, and modify, for the purposes at once of a more powerful and elaborate art than his original presents, and of a yet more elevated, or at least of a far more sustained, ethical and christian strain. we are rather disposed to quarrel with the title of idylls: for no diminutive ([greek: _eidullion_]) can be adequate to the breadth, vigour, and majesty which belong to the subjects, as well as to the execution, of the volume. the poet used the name once before; but he then applied it to pieces generally small in the scale of their delineations, whereas these, even if broken away one from the other, are yet like the disjoined figures from the pediment of the parthenon in their dignity and force. one indeed among mr. tennyson's merits is, that he does not think it necessary to keep himself aloft by artificial effort, but undulates with his matter, and flies high or low as it requires. but even in the humblest parts of these poems--as where the little novice describes the miniature sorrows and discipline of childhood--the whole receives its tone from an atmosphere which is heroic, and which, even in its extremest simplicity, by no means parts company with grandeur, or ceases to shine in the reflected light of the surrounding objects. following the example which the poet has set us in a former volume, we would fain have been permitted, at least provisionally, to call these idylls by the name of books. term them what we may, there are four of them--arranged, as we think, in an ascending scale. the simplicity and grace of the principal character in enid, with which the volume opens, touches, but does not too strongly agitate, the deeper springs of feeling. she is the beautiful daughter of earl yniol, who, by his refusal of a turbulent neighbour as a suitor, has drawn upon himself the ruin of his fortunes, and is visited in his depressed condition by (p. )-- the brave geraint, a knight of arthur's court, a tributary prince of devon, one of that great order of the table round.... geraint wins her against the detested cousin. they wed, and she becomes the purest gem of the court of guinevere, her place in which is described in the beautiful exordium of the poem. an accident, slight perhaps for the weight it is made to carry, arouses his jealousy, and he tries her severely by isolation and rude offices on one of his tours; but her gentleness, purity, and patience are proof against all, and we part from the pair in a full and happy reconciliation, which is described in lines of a beauty that leaves nothing to be desired. the treatment of enid by her husband has appeared to some of mr. tennyson's readers to be unnatural. it is no doubt both in itself repulsive, and foreign to our age and country. but the brutal element in man, which now only invades the conjugal relation in cases where it is highly concentrated, was then far more widely diffused, and not yet dissociated from alternations and even habits of attachment. something of what we now call eastern manners at one time marked the treatment even of the women of the west. unnatural means contrary to nature, irrespectively of time or place; but time and place explain and warrant the treatment of enid by geraint. vivien, which follows enid, is perhaps the least popular of the four books. no pleasure, we grant, can be felt from the character either of the wily woman, between elf and fiend, or of the aged magician, whose love is allowed to travel whither none of his esteem or regard can follow it: and in reading this poem we miss the pleasure of those profound moral harmonies, with which the rest are charged. but we must not on these grounds proceed to the conclusion that the poet has in this case been untrue to his aims. for he has neither failed in power, nor has he led our sympathies astray; and if we ask why he should introduce us to those we cannot love, there is something in the reply that poetry, the mirror of the world, cannot deal with its attractions only, but must present some of its repulsions also, and avail herself of the powerful assistance of its contrasts. the example of homer, who allows thersites to thrust himself upon the scene in the debates of heroes, gives a sanction to what reason and all experience teach, namely, the actual force of negatives in heightening effect; and the gentle and noble characters and beautiful combinations, which largely predominate in the other poems, stand in far clearer and bolder relief when we perceive the dark and baleful shadow of vivien lowering from between them. vivien exhibits a well-sustained conflict between the wizard and, in another sense, the witch; on one side is the wit of woman, on the other are the endowments of the prophet and magician, at once more and less than those of nature. she has heard from him of a charm, a charm of "woven paces, and of waving hands," which paralyses its victim for ever and without deliverance, and her object is to extract from him the knowledge of it as a proof of some return for the fervid and boundless love that she pretends. we cannot but estimate very highly the skill with which mr. tennyson has secured to what seemed the weaker vessel the ultimate mastery in the fight. out of the eater comes forth meat. when she seems to lose ground with him by her slander against the round table which he loved, she recovers it by making him believe that she saw all other men, "the knights, the court, the king, dark in his light": and when in answer to her imprecation on herself a fearful thunderbolt descends and storm rages, then, nestling in his bosom, part in fear but more in craft, she overcomes the last remnant of his resolution, wins the secret she has so indefatigably wooed, and that instant uses it to close in gloom the famous career of the over-mastered sage. * * * * * nowhere could we more opportunely than at this point call attention to mr. tennyson's extraordinary felicity and force in the use of metaphor and simile. this gift appears to have grown with his years, alike in abundance, truth, and grace. as the showers descend from heaven to return to it in vapour, so mr. tennyson's loving observation of nature, and his muse, seem to have had a compact of reciprocity well kept on both sides. when he was young, and when "oenone" was first published, he almost boasted of putting a particular kind of grasshopper into troas, which, as he told us in a note, was probably not to be found there. it is a small but yet an interesting and significant indication that, when some years after he retouched the poem, he omitted the note, and generalised the grasshopper. whether we are right or not in taking this for a sign of the movement of his mind, there can be no doubt that his present use of figures is both the sign and the result of a reverence for nature alike active, intelligent, and refined. sometimes applying the metaphors of art to nature, he more frequently draws the materials of his analogies from her unexhausted book, and, however often he may call for some new and beautiful vehicle of illustration, she seems never to withhold an answer. with regard to this particular and very critical gift, it seems to us that he may challenge comparison with almost any poet either of ancient or modern times. we have always been accustomed to look upon ariosto as one of the greatest among the masters of the art of metaphor and simile; and it would be easy to quote from him instances which in tenderness, grace, force, or all combined, can never be surpassed. but we have rarely seen the power subjected to a greater trial than in the passages just quoted from mr. tennyson, where metaphor lies by metaphor as thick as shells upon their bed; yet each individually with its outline as well drawn, its separateness as clear, its form as true to nature, and with the most full and harmonious contribution to the general effect. * * * * * mr. tennyson practises largely, and with an extraordinary skill and power, the art of designed and limited repetitions. they bear a considerable resemblance to those homeric _formulae_ which have been so usefully remarked by colonel mure--not the formulae of constant recurrence, which tells us who spoke and who answered, but those which are connected with pointing moral effects, and with ulterior purpose. these repetitions tend at once to give more definite impressions of character, and to make firmer and closer the whole tissue of the poem. thus, in the last speech of guinevere, she echoes back, with other ideas and expressions, the sentiment of arthur's affection, which becomes in her mouth sublime:-- i must not scorn myself: he loves me still: let no one dream but that he loves me still. she prays admission among the nuns, that she may follow the pious and peaceful tenor of their life (p. ):-- and so wear out in almsdeed and in prayer the sombre close of that voluptuous day which wrought the ruin of my lord the king. and it is but a debt of justice to the guinevere of the romancers to observe, that she loses considerably by the marked transposition which mr. tennyson has effected in the order of greatness between lancelot and arthur. with him there is an original error in her estimate, independently of the breach of a positive and sacred obligation. she prefers the inferior man; and this preference implies a rooted ethical defect in her nature. in the romance of sir t. mallory the preference she gives to lancelot would have been signally just, had she been free to choose. for lancelot is of an indescribable grandeur; but the limit of arthur's character is thus shown in certain words that he uses, and that lancelot never could have spoken. "much more i am sorrier for my good knight's loss than for the loss of my queen; for queens might i have enough, but, such a fellowship of good knights shall never be together in company." we began with the exordium of this great work: we must not withhold the conclusion. we left her praying admission to the convent-- she said. they took her to themselves; and she, still hoping, fearing, "is it yet too late?" dwelt with them, till in time their abbess died. then she, for her good deeds and her pure life, and for the power of ministration in her, and likewise for the high rank she had borne, was chosen abbess: there, an abbess, lived for three brief years; and there, an abbess, pass'd to where beyond these voices there is peace. no one, we are persuaded, can read this poem without feeling, when it ends, what may be termed the pangs of vacancy--of that void in heart and mind for want of its continuance of which we are conscious when some noble strain of music ceases, when some great work of raphael passes from the view, when we lose sight of some spot connected with high associations, or when some transcendent character upon the page of history disappears, and the withdrawal of it is like the withdrawal of the vital air. we have followed the guinevere of mr. tennyson through its detail, and have extracted largely from its pages, and yet have not a hope of having conveyed an idea of what it really is; still we have thought that in this way we should do it the least injustice, and we are also convinced that even what we have shown will tend to rouse an appetite, and that any of our readers, who may not yet have been also mr. tennyson's, will become more eager to learn and admire it at first hand. we have no doubt that mr. tennyson has carefully considered how far his subject is capable of fulfilling the conditions of an epic structure. the history of arthur is not an epic as it stands, but neither was the cyclic song, of which the greatest of all epics, the "iliad," handles a part. the poem of ariosto is scarcely an epic, nor is that of bojardo; but it is not this because each is too promiscuous and crowded in its brilliant phantasmagoria to conform to the severe laws of that lofty and inexorable class of poem? though the arthurian romance be no epic, it does not follow that no epic can be made from out of it. it is grounded in certain leading characters, men and women, conceived upon models of extraordinary grandeur; and as the laureate has evidently grasped the genuine law which makes man and not the acts of man the base of epic song, we should not be surprised were he hereafter to realize the great achievement towards which he seems to be feeling his way. there is a moral unity and a living relationship between the four poems before us, and the first effort of as a fifth, which, though some considerable part of their contents would necessarily rank as episode, establishes the first and most essential condition of their cohesion. the achievement of vivien bears directly on the state of arthur by withdrawing his chief councillor--the brain, as lancelot was the right arm, of his court; the love of elaine is directly associated with the final catastrophe of the passion of lancelot for guinevere. enid lies somewhat further off the path, nor is it for profane feet to intrude into the sanctuary, for reviewers to advise poets in these high matters; but while we presume nothing, we do not despair of seeing mr. tennyson achieve on the basis he has chosen the structure of a full-formed epic. in any case we have a cheerful hope that, if he continues to advance upon himself as he has advanced heretofore, nay, if he can keep the level he has gained, such a work will be the greatest, and by far the greatest poetical creation, that, whether in our own or in foreign poetry, the nineteenth century has produced. in the face of all critics, the laureate of england has now reached a position which at once imposes and instils respect. they are self-constituted; but he has won his way through the long dedication of his manful energies, accepted and crowned by deliberate, and, we rejoice to think, by continually growing, public favour. he has after all, and it is not the least nor lowest item in his praise, been the severest of his own critics, and has not been too proud either to learn or to unlearn in the work of maturing his genius and building up his fame. from his very first appearance he has had the form and fashion of a true poet: the insight into beauty, the perception of harmony, the faculty of suggestion, the eye both in the physical and moral world for motion, light, and colour, the sympathetic and close observation of nature, the dominance of the constructive faculty, and that rare gift the thorough mastery and loving use of his native tongue. many of us, the common crowd, made of the common clay, may be lovers of nature, some as sincere or even as ardent as mr. tennyson; but it does not follow that even these favoured few possess the privilege that he enjoys. to them she speaks through vague and indeterminate impressions: for him she has a voice of the most delicate articulation; all her images to him are clear and definite, and he translates them for us into that language of suggestion, emphasis, and refined analogy which links the manifold to the simple and the infinite to the finite. he accomplishes for us what we should in vain attempt for ourselves, enables the puny hand to lay hold on what is vast, and brings even coarseness of grasp into a real contact with what is subtle and ethereal. his turn for metaphysical analysis is closely associated with a deep ethical insight: and many of his verses form sayings of so high a class that we trust they are destined to form a permanent part of the household-words of england. considering the quantity of power that mr. tennyson can make available, it is a great proof of self-discipline that he is not given to a wanton or tyrannous use of it. an extraordinary master of diction, he has confined himself to its severe and simple forms. in establishing this rule of practice his natural gift has evidently been aided by the fine english of the old romances, and we might count upon the fingers the cases in which he has lately deviated into the employment of any stilted phrase, or given sanction to a word not of the best fabric. profuse in the power of graphic[ ] representation, he has chastened some of his earlier groups of imagery, which were occasionally overloaded with particulars; and in his later works, as has been well remarked, he has shown himself thoroughly aware that in poetry half is greater than the whole. that the chastity of style he has attained is not from exhaustion of power may easily be shown. no poet has evinced a more despotic mastery over intractable materials, or has been more successful in clothing what is common with the dignity of his art. the downs are not the best subjects in the world for verse; but they will be remembered with and by his descriptive line in the "idylls"-- far o'er the long backs of the bushless downs. [ ] we use the word in what we conceive to be its only legitimate meaning; namely, after the manner and with the effect of painting. it signifies the _quid_, not the _quale_. how becoming is the appearance of what we familiarly term the "clod" in the "princess"! (p. )-- nor those horn-handled breakers of the glebe. of all imaginable subjects, mathematics might seem the most hopeless to make mention of in verse; but they are with him the hard-grained muses of the cube and square. thus at a single stroke he gives an image alike simple, true, and poetical to boot, because suited to its place and object in his verse, like the heavy caryatides well placed in architecture. after this, we may less esteem the feat by which in "godiva" he describes the clock striking mid-day:-- all at once, with twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless noon was clashed and hammered from a hundred towers. but even the contents of a pigeon-pie are not beneath his notice, nor yet beyond his powers of embellishment, in "audley court":-- a pasty, costly made, where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks imbedded and injellied. what excites more surprise is that he can, without any offence against good taste, venture to deal with these contents even after they have entered the mouth of the eater ("enid," p. ):-- the brawny spearman let his cheek bulge with the unswallowed piece, and turning, stared. the delicate insight of fine taste appears to show him with wonderful precision up to what point his art can control and compel his materials, and from what point the materials are in hopeless rebellion and must be let alone. so in the "princess" (p. ) we are introduced to-- eight daughters of the plough, stronger than men, huge women _blowzed_ with health, and wind, and rain, and labour. it was absolutely necessary for him to heighten, nay, to coarsen, the description of these masses of animated beef, who formed the standing army of the woman-commonwealth. few would have obeyed this law without violating another; but mr. tennyson saw that the verb was admissible, while the adjective would have been intolerable. in his purging process made it evident that he did not mean to allow his faults or weaknesses to stint the growth and mar the exhibition of his genius. when he published "in memoriam" in , all readers were conscious of the progressive widening and strengthening, but, above all, deepening of his mind. we cannot hesitate to mark the present volume as exhibiting another forward and upward stride, and that by perhaps the greatest of all, in his career. if we are required to show cause for this opinion under any special head, we would at once point to that which is, after all, the first among the poet's gifts--the gift of conceiving and representing human character. mr. tennyson's arthurian essays continually suggest to us comparisons not so much with any one poet as a whole, but rather with many or most of the highest poets. the music and the just and pure modulation of his verse carry us back not only to the fine ear of shelley, but to milton and to shakespeare: and his powers of fancy and of expression have produced passages which, if they are excelled by that one transcendent and ethereal poet of our nation whom we have last named, yet could have been produced by no other english minstrel. our author has a right to regard his own blank verse as highly characteristic and original: but yet milton has contributed to its formation, and occasionally there is a striking resemblance in turn and diction, while mr. tennyson is the more idiomatic of the two. the chastity and moral elevation of this volume, its essential and profound though not didactic christianity, are such as perhaps cannot be matched throughout the circle of english literature in conjunction with an equal power: and such as to recall a pattern which we know not whether mr. tennyson has studied, the celestial strain of dante.[ ] this is the more remarkable, because he has had to tread upon the ground which must have been slippery for any foot but his. we are far from knowing that either lancelot or guinevere would have been safe even for mature readers, were it not for the instinctive purity of his mind and the high skill of his management. we do not know that in other times they have had their noble victims, whose names have become immortal as their own. noi leggevamo un giorno per diletto di lancilotto, e come amor lo strinse. * * * * * galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.[ ] [ ] it is no reproach to say that neither dante nor homer could have been studied by mr. tennyson at the time--a very early period of his life--when he wrote the lines which are allotted to them respectively in "the palace of art." [ ] "inferno," c. v, v. . how difficult it is to sustain the elevation of such a subject, may be seen in the well-meant and long popular "jane shore" of rowe. how easily this very theme may be vulgarised, is shown in the _"chevaliers de la table ronde"_ of m. creuzé de lesser, who nevertheless has aimed at a peculiar delicacy of treatment. but the grand poetical quality in which this volume gives to its author a new rank and standing is the dramatic power: the power of drawing character and of representing action. these faculties have not been precocious in mr. tennyson: but what is more material, they have come out in great force. he has always been fond of personal delineations, from claribel and lilian down to his ida, his psyche, and his maud; but they have been of shadowy quality, doubtful as to flesh and blood, and with eyes having little or no speculation in them. but he is far greater and far better when he has, as he now has, a good raw material ready to his hand, than when he draws only on the airy or chaotic regions of what carlyle calls unconditioned possibility. he is made not so much to convert the moor into the field, as the field into the rich and gorgeous garden. the imperfect _nisus_ which might be remarked in some former works has at length reached the fulness of dramatic energy: in the idylls we have nothing vague or dreamy to complain of: everything lives and moves, in the royal strength of nature: the fire of prometheus has fairly caught the clay: every figure stands clear, broad, and sharp before us, as if it had sky for its background: and this of small as well as great, for even the "little novice" is projected on the canvas with the utmost truth and vigour, and with that admirable effect in heightening the great figure of guinevere, which patroclus produces for the character of achilles, and (as some will have it) the modest structure of saint margaret's for the giant proportions of westminster abbey. and this, we repeat, is the crowning gift of the poet: the power of conceiving and representing man. we do not believe that a milton--or, in other words, the writer of a "paradise lost"--could ever be so great as a shakespeare or a homer, because (setting aside all other questions) his chief characters are neither human, nor can they be legitimately founded upon humanity; and, moreover, what he has to represent of man is, by the very law of its being, limited in scale and development. here at least the saying is a true one: _antiquitas saeculi, juventus mundi;_ rendered by our poet in "the day-dream," for we are ancients of the earth, and in the morning of the times. the adam and eve of paradise exhibit to us the first inception of our race; and neither then, nor after their first sad lesson, could they furnish those materials for representation, which their descendants have accumulated in the school of their incessant and many-coloured, but on the whole too gloomy, experience. to the long chapters of that experience every generation of man makes its own addition. again we ask the aid of mr. tennyson in "locksley hall":-- yet i doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, and the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. the substitution of law for force has indeed altered the relations of the strong and the weak; the hardening or cooling down of political institutions and social traditions, the fixed and legal track instead of the open pathless field, have removed or neutralised many of those occasions and passages of life, which were formerly the schools of individual character. the genius of mechanism has vied, in the arts of both peace and war, with the strong hand, and has well-nigh robbed it of its place. but let us not be deceived by that smoothness of superficies, which the social prospect offers to the distant eye. nearness dispels the illusion; life is still as full of deep, of ecstatic, of harrowing interests as it ever was. the heart of man still beats and bounds, exults and suffers, from causes which are only less salient and conspicuous because they are more mixed and diversified. it still undergoes every phase of emotion, and even, as seems probable, with a susceptibility which has increased and is increasing, and which has its index and outer form in the growing delicacy and complexities of the nervous system. does any one believe that ever at any time there was a greater number of deaths referable to that comprehensive cause a broken heart? let none fear that this age, or any coming one, will extinguish the material of poetry. the more reasonable apprehension might be lest it should sap the vital force necessary to handle that material, and mould it into appropriate forms. to those especially, who cherish any such apprehension, we recommend the perusal of this volume. of it we will say without fear, what we would not dare to say of any other recent work; that of itself it raises the character and the hopes of the age and the country which have produced it, and that its author, by his own single strength, has made a sensible addition to the permanent wealth of mankind. canon wilberforce on darwin [from _the quarterly review_, july, ] _on the origin of species, by means of natural selection; or the preservation of favoured races in the struggle for life._ by charles darwin, m.a., f.r.s. london, . any contribution to our natural history literature from the pen of mr. c. darwin is certain to command attention. his scientific attainments, his insight and carefulness as an observer, blended with no scanty measure of imaginative sagacity, and his clear and lively style, make all his writings unusually attractive. his present volume on the _origin of species_ is the result of many years of observation, thought, and speculation; and is manifestly regarded by him as the "opus" upon which his future fame is to rest. it is true that he announces it modestly enough as the mere precursor of a mightier volume. but that volume is only intended to supply the facts which are to support the completed argument of the present essay. in this we have a specimen-collection of the vast accumulation; and, working from these as the high analytical mathematician may work from the admitted results of his conic sections, he proceeds to deduce all the conclusions to which he wishes to conduct his readers. the essay is full of mr. darwin's characteristic excellences. it is a most readable book; full of facts in natural history, old and new, of his collecting and of his observing; and all of these are told in his own perspicuous language, and all thrown into picturesque combinations, and all sparkle with the colours of fancy and the lights of imagination. it assumes, too, the grave proportions of a sustained argument upon a matter of the deepest interest, not to naturalists only, or even to men of science exclusively, but to every one who is interested in the history of man and of the relations of nature around him to the history and plan of creation. with mr. darwin's "argument" we may say in the outset that we shall have much and grave fault to find. but this does not make us the less disposed to admire the singular excellences of his work; and we will seek _in limine_ to give our readers a few examples of these. here, for instance, is a beautiful illustration of the wonderful interdependence of nature--of the golden chain of unsuspected relations which bind together all the mighty web which stretches from end to end of this full and most diversified earth. who, as he listened to the musical hum of the great humble-bees, or marked their ponderous flight from flower to flower, and watched the unpacking of their trunks for their work of suction, would have supposed that the multiplication or diminution of their race, or the fruitfulness and sterility of the red clover, depend as directly on the vigilance of our cats as do those of our well-guarded game-preserves on the watching of our keepers? yet this mr. darwin has discovered to be literally the case:-- from experiments which i have lately tried, i have found that the visits of bees are necessary for the fertilisation of some kinds of clover; but humble-bees alone visit the red clover (trifolium pratense), as other bees cannot reach the nectar. hence i have very little doubt, that if the whole genus of humble-bees became extinct or very rare in england, the heartsease and red clover would become very rare or wholly disappear. the number of humble-bees in any district depends in a great degree on the number of field-mice, which destroy their combs and nests; and mr. h. newman, who has long attended to the habits of humble-bees, believes that "more than two-thirds of them are thus destroyed all over england." now the number of mice is largely dependent, as every one knows, on the number of cats; and mr. newman says, "near villages and small towns i have found the nests of humble-bees more numerous than elsewhere, which i attribute to the number of cats that destroy the mice." hence, it is quite credible that the presence of a feline animal in large numbers in a district might determine, through the intervention, first of mice, and then of bees, the frequency of certain flowers in that district.--p. . * * * * * now, all this is, we think, really charming writing. we feel as we walk abroad with mr. darwin very much as the favoured object of the attention of the dervise must have felt when he had rubbed the ointment around his eye, and had it opened to see all the jewels, and diamonds, and emeralds, and topazes, and rubies, which were sparkling unregarded beneath the earth, hidden as yet from all eyes save those which the dervise had enlightened. but here we are bound to say our pleasure terminates; for, when we turn with mr. darwin to his "argument," we are almost immediately at variance with him. it is as an "argument" that the essay is put forward; as an argument we will test it. we can perhaps best convey to our readers a clear view of mr. darwin's chain of reasoning, and of our objections to it, if we set before them, first, the conclusion to which he seeks to bring them; next, the leading propositions which he must establish in order to make good his final inference; and then the mode by which he endeavours to support his propositions. the conclusion, then, to which mr. darwin would bring us is, that all the various forms of vegetable and animal life with which the globe is now peopled, or of which we find the remains preserved in a fossil state in the great earth-museum around us, which the science of geology unlocks for our instruction, have come down by natural succession of descent from father to son,--"animals from at most four or five progenitors, and plants from an equal or less number" (p. ), as mr. darwin at first somewhat diffidently suggests; or rather, as, growing bolder when he has once pronounced his theory, he goes on to suggest to us, from one single head:-- analogy would lead me one step further, namely, to the belief that all animals and plants have descended from some one prototype. but analogy may be a deceitful guide. nevertheless, all living things have much in common in their chemical composition, their germinal vesicles, their cellular structure, and their laws of growth and reproduction.... therefore i shall infer from analogy that probably all the organic beings which have ever lived on this earth (man therefore of course included) have descended from some one primordial form into which life was first breathed by the creator.--p. . this is the theory which really pervades the whole volume. man, beast, creeping thing, and plant of the earth, are all the lineal and direct descendants of some one individual _ens_, whose various progeny have been simply modified by the action of natural and ascertainable conditions into the multiform aspect of life which we see around us. this is undoubtedly at first sight a somewhat startling conclusion to arrive at. to find that mosses, grasses, turnips, oaks, worms, and flies, mites and elephants, infusoria and whales, tadpoles of to-day and venerable saurians, truffles and men, are all equally the lineal descendants of the same aboriginal common ancestor, perhaps of the nucleated cell of some primaeval fungus, which alone possessed the distinguishing honour of being the "one primordial form into which life was first breathed by the creator "--this, to say the least of it, is no common discovery--no very expected conclusion. but we are too loyal pupils of inductive philosophy to start back from any conclusion by reason of its strangeness. newton's patient philosophy taught him to find in the falling apple the law which governs the silent movements of the stars in their courses; and if mr. darwin can with the same correctness of reasoning demonstrate to us our fungular descent, we shall dismiss our pride, and avow, with the characteristic humility of philosophy, our unsuspected cousinship with the mushrooms,-- claim kindred there, and have our claim allowed, --only we shall ask leave to scrutinise carefully every step of the argument which has such an ending, and demur if at any point of it we are invited to substitute unlimited hypothesis for patient observation, or the spasmodic fluttering flight of fancy for the severe conclusions to which logical accuracy of reasoning has led the way. now, the main propositions by which mr. darwin's conclusion is attained are these:-- . that observed and admitted variations spring up in the course of descents from a common progenitor. . that many of these variations tend to an improvement upon the parent stock. . that, by a continued selection of these improved specimens as the progenitors of future stock, its powers may be unlimitedly increased. . and, lastly, that there is in nature a power continually and universally working out this selection, and so fixing and augmenting these improvements. mr. darwin's whole theory rests upon the truth of these propositions and crumbles utterly away if only one of them fail him. these, therefore, we must closely scrutinise. we will begin with the last in our series, both because we think it the newest and the most ingenious part of mr. darwin's whole argument, and also because, whilst we absolutely deny the mode in which he seeks to apply the existence of the power to help him in his argument, yet we think that he throws great and very interesting light upon the fact that such self-acting power does actively and continuously work in all creation around us. mr. darwin finds then the disseminating and improving power, which he needs to account for the development of new forms in nature, in the principle of "natural selection," which is evolved in the strife for room to live and flourish which is evermore maintained between themselves by all living things. one of the most interesting parts of mr. darwin's volume is that in which he establishes this law of natural selection; we say establishes, because--repeating that we differ from him totally in the limits which he would assign to its action--we have no doubt of the existence or of the importance of the law itself. * * * * * we come then to these conclusions. all the facts presented to us in the natural world tend to show that none of the variations produced in the fixed forms of animal life, when seen in its most plastic condition under domestication, give any promise of a true transmutation of species; first, from the difficulty of accumulating and fixing variations within the same species; secondly, from the fact that these variations, though most serviceable for man, have no tendency to improve the individual beyond the standard of his own specific type, and so to afford matter, even if they were infinitely produced, for the supposed power of natural selection on which to work; whilst all variations from the mixture of species are barred by the inexorable law of hybrid sterility. further, the embalmed records of , years show that there has been no beginning of transmutation in the species of our most familiar domesticated animals; and beyond this, that in the countless tribes of animal life around us, down to its lowest and most variable species, no one has ever discovered a single instance of such transmutation being now in prospect; no new organ has ever been known to be developed--no new natural instinct to be formed--whilst, finally, in the vast museum of departed animal life which the strata of the earth imbed for our examination, whilst they contain far too complete a representation of the past to be set aside as a mere imperfect record, yet afford no one instance of any such change as having ever been in progress, or give us anywhere the missing links of the assumed chain, or the remains which would enable now existing variations, by gradual approximations, to shade off into unity. on what then is the new theory based? we say it with unfeigned regret, in dealing with such a man as mr. darwin, on the merest hypothesis, supported by the most unbounded assumptions. these are strong words, but we will give a few instances to prove their truth:-- all physiologists admit that the swim-bladder is homologous or "ideally similar" in position and structure with the lungs of the higher vertebrate animals; hence there _seems to me to be no great difficulty in believing_ that natural selection has actually converted a swim-bladder into a lung, or organ used exclusively for respiration.--p. . _i can indeed hardly doubt_ that all vertebrate animals having true lungs have descended by ordinary generation from the ancient prototype, of which we know nothing, furnished with a floating apparatus or swim-bladder--p. . we must be cautious in concluding that the most different habits of all _could not_ graduate into each other; that a bat, for instance, _could not_ have been formed by natural selection from an animal which at first could only glide through the air.--p. . again:-- _i see no difficulty in supposing_ that such links formerly existed, and that each had been formed by the same steps as in the case of the less perfectly gliding squirrels, and that each grade of structure was useful to its possessor. nor _can i see any insuperable difficulty in further believing_ it possible that the membrane-connected fingers and forearm of the galeopithecus might be greatly lengthened by natural selection, and this, as far as the organs of flight are concerned, would convert it into a bat.--p. . for instance, a swim-bladder has _apparently_ been converted into an air-breathing lung.--p. . and again:-- the electric organs of fishes offer another case of special difficulty: it is impossible to conceive by what steps these wondrous organs have been produced; but, as owen and others have remarked, their intimate structure closely resembles that of common muscle; and as it has lately been shown that rays have an organ closely analogous to the electric apparatus, and yet do not, as matteucci asserts, discharge any electricity, we must own that we are far too ignorant to argue that _no transition of any kind is possible._--pp. - . sometimes mr. darwin seems for a moment to recoil himself from this extravagant liberty of speculation, as when he says, concerning the eye,-- to suppose that the eye, with its inimitable contrivances for adjusting the focus to different distances, for admitting different amounts of light, and for the correction of spherical and chromatic aberration, could have been formed by natural selection, seems, i freely confess, absurd in the highest possible degree.--p. . but he soon returns to his new wantonness of conjecture, and, without the shadow of a fact, contents himself with saying that-- he _suspects_ that any sensitive nerve may be rendered sensitive to light, and likewise to those coarser vibrations of the air which produce sound.--p- . and in the following passage he carries this extravagance to the highest pitch, requiring a licence for advancing as true any theory which cannot be demonstrated to be actually impossible:-- if it could be demonstrated that any complex organ existed, _which could not possibly_ have been formed by numerous, successive, slight modifications, my theory would absolutely break down. but i can find no such case.--p. . another of these assumptions is not a little remarkable. it suits his argument to deduce all our known varieties of pigeons from the rock-pigeon (the columba livia), and this parentage is traced out, though not, we think, to demonstration, yet with great ingenuity and patience. but another branch of the argument would be greatly strengthened by establishing the descent of our various breeds of dogs with their perfect power of fertile inter-breeding from different natural species. and accordingly, though every fact as to the canine race is parallel to the facts which have been used before to establish the common parentage of the pigeons in columba livia, all these are thrown over in a moment, and mr. darwin, first assuming, without the shadow of proof, that our domestic breeds are descended from different species, proceeds calmly to argue from this, as though it were a demonstrated certainty. it _seems to me unlikely_ in the case of the dog-genus, which is distributed in a wild state throughout the world, that since man first appeared one species alone should have been domesticated.--p. . in some cases _i do not doubt_ that the intercrossing of species aboriginally distinct has played an important part in the origin of our domestic productions.--p. . what new words are these for a loyal disciple of the true baconian philosophy?--"i can conceive"--"it is not incredible"--"i do not doubt" --"it is conceivable." for myself, _i venture confidently_ to look back thousands on thousands of generations, and i see an animal striped like a zebra, but perhaps otherwise very differently constructed, the common parent of our domestic horse, whether or not it be descended from one or more wild stocks of the ass, hemionous, quagga, or zebra.--p. . in the name of all true philosophy we protest against such a mode of dealing with nature, as utterly dishonourable to all natural science, as reducing it from its present lofty level of being one of the noblest trainers of man's intellect and instructors of his mind, to being a mere idle play of the fancy, without the basis of fact or the discipline of observation. in the "arabian nights" we are not offended as at an impossibility when amina sprinkles her husband with water and transforms him into a dog, but we cannot open the august doors of the venerable temple of scientific truth to the genii and magicians of romance. we plead guilty to mr. darwin's imputation that the chief cause of our natural unwillingness to admit that one species has given birth to other and distinct species is that we are always slow in admitting any great change of which we do not see the intermediate steps.--p. . in this tardiness to admit great changes suggested by the imagination, but the steps of which we cannot see, is the true spirit of philosophy. analysis, says professor sedgwick, consists in making experiments and observations, and in drawing general conclusions from them by induction, and admitting of no objections against the conclusions but such as are taken from experiments or other certain truths; for _hypotheses are not to be regarded in experimental philosophy._[ ] [ ] "a discourse on the studies of the university," by a. sedgwick, p. . the other solvent which mr. darwin most freely and, we think, unphilosophically employs to get rid of difficulties, is his use of time. this he shortens or prolongs at will by the mere wave of his magician's rod. thus the duration of whole epochs, during which certain forms of animal life prevailed, is gathered up into a point, whilst an unlimited expanse of years, "impressing his mind with a sense of eternity," is suddenly interposed between that and the next series, though geology proclaims the transition to have been one of gentle and, it may be, swift accomplishment. all this too is made the more startling because it is used to meet the objections drawn from facts. "we see none of your works," says the observer of nature; "we see no beginnings of the portentous change; we see plainly beings of another order in creation, but we find amongst them no tendencies to these altered organisms." "true," says the great magician, with a calmness no difficulty derived from the obstinacy of facts can disturb; "true, but remember the effect of time. throw in a few hundreds of millions of years more or less, and why should not all these changes be possible, and, if possible, why may i not assume them to be real?" together with this large licence of assumption we notice in this book several instances of receiving as facts whatever seems to bear out the theory upon the slightest evidence, and rejecting summarily others, merely because they are fatal to it. we grieve to charge upon mr. darwin this freedom in handling facts, but truth extorts it from us. that the loose statements and unfounded speculations of this book should come from the author of the monograms on cirripedes, and the writer, in the natural history of the voyage of the "beagle," of the paper on the coral reefs, is indeed a sad warning how far the love of a theory may seduce even a first-rate naturalist from the very articles of his creed. this treatment of facts is followed up by another favourite line of argument, namely, that by this hypothesis difficulties otherwise inextricable are solved. such passages abound. take a few, selected almost at random, to illustrate what we mean:-- how inexplicable are these facts on the ordinary view of creation!--p. . such facts as the presence of peculiar species of bats and the absence of other mammals on oceanic islands are utterly inexplicable on the theory of independent acts of creation.--pp. - . it must be admitted that these facts receive no explanation on the theory of creation.--p. . the inhabitants of the cape de verde islands are related to those of africa, like those of the galapagos to america. i believe this grand fact can receive no sort of explanation on the ordinary view of independent creation.--pp. - . now what can be more simply reconcilable with that theory than mr. darwin's own account of the mode in which the migration of animal life from one distant region to another is continually accomplished? take another of these suggestions:-- it is inexplicable, on the theory of creation, why a part developed in a very unusual manner in any one species of a genus, and therefore, as we may naturally infer, of great importance to the species, should be eminently liable to variation.--p. . why "inexplicable"? such a liability to variation might most naturally be expected in the part "unusually developed," because such unusual development is of the nature of a monstrosity, and monsters are always tending to relapse into likeness to the normal type. yet this argument is one on which he mainly relies to establish his theory, for he sums all up in this triumphant inference:-- i cannot believe that a false theory would explain, as it seems to me that the theory of natural selection does explain, the several large classes of facts above specified.--p. . now, as to all this, we deny, first, that many of these difficulties are "inexplicable on any other supposition." of the greatest of them ( , ) we shall have to speak before we conclude. we will here touch only on one of those which are continually reappearing in mr. darwin's pages, in order to illustrate his mode of dealing with them. he finds, then, one of these "inexplicable difficulties" in the fact, that the young of the blackbird, instead of resembling the adult in the colour of its plumage, is like the young of many other birds spotted, and triumphantly declaring that-- no one will suppose that the stripes on the whelp of a lion, or the spots on the young blackbird, are of any use to these animals, or are related to the conditions to which they are exposed.--pp. - -- he draws from them one of his strongest arguments for this alleged community of descent. yet what is more certain to every observant field-naturalist than that this alleged uselessness of colouring is one of the greatest protections to the young bird, imperfect in its flight, perching on every spray, sitting unwarily on every bush through which the rays of sunshine dapple every bough to the colour of its own plumage, and so give it a facility of escape which it would utterly want if it bore the marked and prominent colours, the beauty of which the adult bird needs to recommend him to his mate, and can safely bear with his increased habits of vigilance and power of wing? but, secondly, as to many of these difficulties, the alleged solving of which is one great proof of the truth of mr. darwin's theory, we are compelled to join issue with him on another ground, and deny that he gives us any solution at all. thus, for instance, mr. darwin builds a most ingenious argument on the tendency of the young of the horse, ass, zebra, and quagga, to bear on their shoulders and on their legs certain barred stripes. up these bars (bars sinister, as we think, as to any true descent of existing animals from their fancied prototype) he mounts through his "thousands and thousands of generations," to the existence of his "common parent, otherwise perhaps very differently constructed, but striped like a zebra."--(p. .) "how inexplicable," he exclaims, "on the theory of creation, is the occasional appearance of stripes on the shoulder and legs of several species of the horse genus and in their hybrids!"--(p. .) he tells us that to suppose that each species was created with a tendency "like this, is to make the works of god a mere mockery and deception"; and he satisfies himself that all difficulty is gone when he refers the stripes to his hypothetical thousands on thousands of years removed progenitor. but how is his difficulty really affected? for why is the striping of one species a less real difficulty than the striping of many? another instance of this mode of dealing with his subject, to which we must call the attention of our readers, because it too often recurs, is contained in the following question:-- were all the infinitely numerous kinds of animals and plants created as eggs, or seed, or as full grown? and, in the case of mammals, were they created bearing the false marks of nourishment from the mother's womb?--p. . the difficulty here glanced at is extreme, but it is one for the solution of which the transmutation-theory gives no clue. it is inherent in the idea of the creation of beings, which are to reproduce their like by natural succession; for, in such a world, place the first beginning where you will, that beginning _must_ contain the apparent history of a _past_, which existed only in the mind of the creator. if, with mr. darwin, to escape the difficulty of supposing the first man at his creation to possess in that framework of his body "false marks of nourishment from his mother's womb," with mr. darwin you consider him to have been an improved ape, you only carry the difficulty up from the first man to the first ape; if, with mr. darwin, in violation of all observation, you break the barrier between the classes of vegetable and animal life, and suppose every animal to be an "improved" vegetable, you do but carry your difficulty with you into the vegetable world; for, how could there be seeds if there had been no plants to seed them? and if you carry up your thoughts through the vista of the darwinian eternity up to the primaeval fungus, still the primaeval fungus must have had a humus, from which to draw into its venerable vessels the nourishment of its archetypal existence, and that humus must itself be a "false mark" of a pre-existing vegetation. we have dwelt a little upon this, because it is by such seeming solutions of difficulties as that which this passage supplies that the transmutationist endeavours to prop up his utterly rotten fabric of guess and speculation. there are no parts of mr. darwin's ingenious book in which he gives the reins more completely to his fancy than where he deals with the improvement of instinct by his principle of natural selection. we need but instance his assumption, without a fact on which to build it, that the marvellous skill of the honey-bee in constructing its cells is thus obtained, and the slave-making habits of the formica polyerges thus formed. there seems to be no limit here to the exuberance of his fancy, and we cannot but think that we detect one of those hints by which mr. darwin indicates the application of his system from the lower animals to man himself, when he dwells so pointedly upon the fact that it is always the _black_ ant which is enslaved by his other coloured and more fortunate brethren. "the slaves are black!" we believe that, if we had mr. darwin in the witness-box, and could subject him to a moderate cross-examination, we should find that he believed that the tendency of the lighter-coloured races of mankind to prosecute the negro slave-trade was really a remains, in their more favoured condition, of the "extraordinary and odious instinct" which had possessed them before they had been "improved by natural selection" from formica polyerges into homo. this at least is very much the way in which (p. ) he slips in quite incidentally the true identity of man with the horse, the bat, and the porpoise:-- the framework of bones being the same in the hand of a man, wing of a bat, fin of a porpoise, and leg of the horse, the same number of vertebrae forming the neck of the giraffe and of the elephant, and innumerable other such facts, at once explain themselves on the theory of descent with slow and slight successive modifications.--p. . such assumptions as these, we once more repeat, are most dishonourable and injurious to science; and though, out of respect to mr. darwin's high character and to the tone of his work, we have felt it right to weigh the "argument" again set by him before us in the simple scales of logical examination, yet we must remind him that the view is not a new one, and that it has already been treated with admirable humour when propounded by another of his name and of his lineage. we do not think that, with all his matchless ingenuity, mr. darwin has found any instance which so well illustrates his own theory of the improved descendant under the elevating influences of natural selection exterminating the progenitor whose specialities he has exaggerated as he himself affords us in this work. for if we go back two generations we find the ingenious grandsire of the author of the _origin of species_ speculating on the same subject, and almost in the same manner with his more daring descendant. * * * * * our readers will not have failed to notice that we have objected to the views with which we have been dealing solely on scientific grounds. we have done so from our fixed conviction that it is thus that the truth or falsehood of such arguments should be tried. we have no sympathy with those who object to any facts or alleged facts in nature, or to any inference logically deduced from them, because they believe them to contradict what it appears to them is taught by revelation. we think that all such objections savour of a timidity which is really inconsistent with a firm and well-instructed faith:-- "let us for a moment," profoundly remarks professor sedgwick, "suppose that there are some religious difficulties in the conclusions of geology. how, then, are we to solve them? not by making a world after a pattern of our own--not by shifting and shuffling the solid strata of the earth, and then dealing them out in such a way as to play the game of an ignorant or dishonest hypothesis--not by shutting our eyes to facts, or denying the evidence of our senses--but by patient investigation, carried on in the sincere love of truth, and by learning to reject every consequence not warranted by physical evidence."[ ] he who is as sure as he is of his own existence that the god of truth is at once the god of nature and the god of revelation, cannot believe it to be possible that his voice in either, rightly understood, can differ, or deceive his creatures. to oppose facts in the natural world because they seem to oppose revelation, or to humour them so as to compel them to speak its voice, is, he knows, but another form of the ever-ready feebleminded dishonesty of lying for god, and trying by fraud or falsehood to do the work of the god of truth. it is with another and a nobler spirit that the true believer walks amongst the works of nature. the words graven on the everlasting rocks are the words of god, and they are graven by his hand. no more can they contradict his word written in his book, than could the words of the old covenant graven by his hand on the stony tables contradict the writings of his hand in the volume of the new dispensation. there may be to man difficulty in reconciling all the utterances of the two voices. but what of that? he has learned already that here he knows only in part, and that the day of reconciling all apparent contradictions between what must agree is nigh at hand. he rests his mind in perfect quietness on this assurance, and rejoices in the gift of light without a misgiving as to what it may discover:-- "a man of deep thought and great practical wisdom," says sedgwick,[ ] "one whose piety and benevolence have for many years been shining before the world, and of whose sincerity no scoffer (of whatever school) will dare to start a doubt, recorded his opinion in the great assembly of the men of science who during the past year were gathered from every corner of the empire within the walls of this university, 'that christianity had everything to hope and nothing to fear from the advancement of philosophy.'"[ ] [ ] "a discourse on the studies of the university," p. . [ ] ibid., p. . [ ] speech of dr. chalmers at the meeting of the british association for the advancement of science, june, . this is as truly the spirit of christianity as it is that of philosophy. few things have more deeply injured the cause of religion than the busy fussy energy with which men, narrow and feeble alike in faith and in science, have bustled forth to reconcile all new discoveries in physics with the word of inspiration. for it continually happens that some larger collection of facts, or some wider view of the phenomena of nature, alter the whole philosophic scheme; whilst revelation has been committed to declare an absolute agreement with what turns out after all to have been a misconception or an error. we cannot, therefore, consent to test the truth of natural science by the word of revelation. but this does not make it the less important to point out on scientific grounds scientific errors, when those errors tend to limit god's glory in creation, or to gainsay the revealed relations of that creation to himself. to both these classes of error, though, we doubt not, quite unintentionally on his part, we think that mr. darwin's speculations directly tend. mr. darwin writes as a christian, and we doubt not that he is one. we do not for a moment believe him to be one of those who retain in some corner of their hearts a secret unbelief which they dare not vent; and we therefore pray him to consider well the grounds on which we brand his speculations with the charge of such a tendency. first, then, he not obscurely declares that he applies his scheme of the action of the principle of natural selection to man himself, as well as to the animals around him. now, we must say at once, and openly, that such a notion is absolutely incompatible not only with single expressions in the word of god on that subject of natural science with which it is not immediately concerned, but, which in our judgment is of far more importance, with the whole representation of that moral and spiritual condition of man which is its proper subject-matter. man's derived supremacy over the earth; man's power of articulate speech; man's gift of reason; man's free-will and responsibility; man's fall and man's redemption; the incarnation of the eternal son; the indwelling of the eternal spirit,-- all are equally and utterly irreconcilable with the degrading notion of the brute origin of him who was created in the image of god, and redeemed by the eternal son assuming to himself his nature. equally inconsistent, too, not with any passing expressions, but with the whole scheme of god's dealings with man as recorded in his word, is mr. darwin's daring notion of man's further development into some unknown extent of powers, and shape, and size, through natural selection acting through that long vista of ages which he casts mistily over the earth upon the most favoured individuals of his species. we care not in these pages to push the argument further. we have done enough for our purpose in thus succinctly intimating its course. if any of our readers doubt what must be the result of such speculations carried to their logical and legitimate conclusion, let them turn to the pages of _oken_, and see for themselves the end of that path the opening of which is decked out in these pages with the bright hues and seemingly innocent deductions of the transmutation-theory. nor can we doubt, secondly, that this view, which thus contradicts the revealed relation of creation to its creator, is equally inconsistent with the fullness of his glory. it is, in truth, an ingenious theory for diffusing throughout creation the working and so the personality of the creator. and thus, however unconsciously to him who holds them, such views really tend inevitably to banish from the mind most of the peculiar attributes of the almighty. how, asks mr. darwin, can we possibly account for the manifest plan, order, and arrangement which pervade creation, except we allow to it this self-developing power through modified descent? as milne-edwards has well expressed it, nature is prodigal in variety, but niggard in innovation. why, on the theory of creation, should this be so? why should all the parts and organs of many independent beings, each supposed to have been separately created for its proper place in nature, be so commonly linked together by graduated steps? why should not nature have taken a leap from structure to structure?--p. . and again:-- it is a truly wonderful fact--the wonder of which we are apt to overlook from familiarity--that all animals and plants throughout all time and space should be related to each other in group subordinate to group, in the manner which we everywhere behold, namely, varieties of the same species most closely related together, species of the same genus less closely and unequally related together, forming sections and sub-genera, species of distinct genera much less closely related, and genera related in different degrees, forming sub-families, families, orders, sub-classes, and classes.--pp. - . how can we account for all this? by the simplest and yet the most comprehensive answer. by declaring the stupendous fact that all creation is the transcript in matter of ideas eternally existing in the mind of the most high--that order in the utmost perfectness of its relation pervades his works, because it exists as in its centre and highest fountain-head in him the lord of all. here is the true account of the fact which has so utterly misled shallow observers, that man himself, the prince and head of this creation, passes in the earlier stages of his being through phases of existence closely analogous, so far as his earthly tabernacle is concerned, to those in which the lower animals ever remain. at that point of being the development of the protozoa is arrested. through it the embryo of their chief passes to the perfection of his earthly frame. but the types of those lower forms of being must be found in the animals which never advance beyond them--not in man for whom they are but the foundation for an after-development; whilst he too, creation's crown and perfection, thus bears witness in his own frame to the law of order which pervades the universe. in like manner could we answer every other question as to which mr. darwin thinks all oracles are dumb unless they speak his speculation. he is, for instance, more than once troubled by what he considers imperfections in nature's work. "if," he says, "our reason leads us to admire with enthusiasm a multitude of inimitable contrivances in nature, this same reason tells us that some other contrivances are less perfect." nor ought we to marvel if all the contrivances in nature be not, as far as we can judge, absolutely perfect; and if some of them be abhorrent to our idea of fitness. we need not marvel at the sting of the bee causing the bee's own death; at drones being produced in such vast numbers for one single act, and with the great majority slaughtered by their sterile sisters; at the astonishing waste of pollen by our fir-trees; at the instinctive hatred of the queen-bee for her own fertile daughters; at ichneumonidae feeding within the live bodies of caterpillars; and at other such cases. the wonder indeed is, on the theory of natural selection, that more cases of the want of absolute perfection have not been observed.--p. . we think that the real temper of this whole speculation as to nature itself may be read in these few lines. it is a dishonouring view of nature. that reverence for the work of god's hands with which a true belief in the all-wise worker fills the believer's heart is at the root of all great physical discovery; it is the basis of philosophy. he who would see the venerable features of nature must not seek with the rudeness of a licensed roysterer violently to unmask her countenance; but must wait as a learner for her willing unveiling. there was more of the true temper of philosophy in the poetic fiction of the pan-ic shriek, than in the atheistic speculations of lucretius. but this temper must beset those who do in effect banish god from nature. and so mr. darwin not only finds in it these bungling contrivances which his own greater skill could amend, but he stands aghast before its mightier phenomena. the presence of death and famine seems to him inconceivable on the ordinary idea of creation; and he looks almost aghast at them until reconciled to their presence by his own theory that "a ratio of increase so high as to lead to a struggle for life, and as a consequence to natural selection entailing divergence of character and the extinction of less improved forms, is decidedly followed by the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals" (p. ). but we can give him a simpler solution still for the presence of these strange forms of imperfection and suffering amongst the works of god. we can tell him of the strong shudder which ran through all this world when its head and ruler fell. when he asks concerning the infinite variety of these multiplied works which are set in such an orderly unity, and run up into man as their reasonable head, we can tell him of the exuberance of god's goodness and remind him of the deep philosophy which lies in those simple words--"all thy works praise thee, o god, and thy saints give thanks unto thee." for it is one office of redeemed man to collect the inarticulate praises of the material creation, and pay them with conscious homage into the treasury of the supreme lord. * * * * * it is by putting restraint upon fancy that science is made the true trainer of our intellect:-- "a study of the newtonian philosophy," says sedgwick, "as affecting our moral powers and capacities, does not terminate in mere negations. it teaches us to see the finger of god in all things animate and inaminate [transcriber's note: sic], and gives us an exalted conception of his attributes, placing before us the clearest proof of their reality; and so prepares, or ought to prepare, the mind for the reception of that higher illumination which brings the rebellious faculties into obedience to the divine will."--_studies of the university_, p. . it is by our deep conviction of the truth and importance of this view for the scientific mind of england that we have been led to treat at so much length mr. darwin's speculation. the contrast between the sober, patient, philosophical courage of our home philosophy, and the writings of lamarck and his followers and predecessors, of mm. demaillet, bory de saint vincent, virey, and oken,[ ] is indeed most wonderful; and it is greatly owing to the noble tone which has been given by those great men whose words we have quoted to the school of british science. that mr. darwin should have wandered from this broad highway of nature's works into the jungle of fanciful assumption is no small evil. we trust that he is mistaken in believing that he may count sir c. lyell as one of his converts. we know indeed the strength of the temptations which he can bring to bear upon his geological brother. the lyellian hypothesis, itself not free from some of mr. darwin's faults, stands eminently in need for its own support of some such new scheme of physical life as that propounded here. yet no man has been more distinct and more logical in the denial of the transmutation of species than sir c. lyell, and that not in the infancy of his scientific life, but in its full vigour and maturity. [ ] it may be worth while to exhibit to our readers a few of dr. oken's postulates or arguments as specimens of his views:-- i wrote the first edition of in a kind of inspiration. . spirit is the motion of mathematical ideas. . physio-philosphy [transcriber's note: sic] has to ... pourtray the first period of the world's development from nothing; how the elements and heavenly bodies originated; in what method by self-evolution into higher and manifold forms they separated into minerals, became finally organic, and in man attained self-consciousness. . the mathematical monad is eternal. . the eternal is one and the same with the zero of mathematics. sir c. lyell devotes the rd to the th chapter of his "principles of geology" to an examination of this question. he gives a clear account of the mode in which lamarck supported his belief of the transmutation of species; he interrupts the author's argument to observe that "no positive fact is cited to exemplify the substitution of some _entirely new_ sense, faculty, or organ--because no examples were to be found"; and remarks that when lamarck talks of "the effects of internal sentiment," etc., as causes whereby animals and plants may acquire _new organs_, he substitutes names for things, and with a disregard to the strict rules of induction, resorts to fictions. he shows the fallacy of lamarck's reasoning, and by anticipation confutes the whole theory of mr. darwin, when gathering clearly up into a few heads the recapitulation of the whole argument in favour of the reality of species in nature. he urges:--[transcriber's note: numbering in original] . that there is a capacity in all species to accommodate themselves to a certain extent to a change of external circumstances. . the entire variation from the original type ... may usually be effected in a brief period of time, after which no further deviation can be obtained. . the intermixing distinct species is guarded against by the sterility of the mule offspring. . it appears that species have a real existence in nature, and that each was endowed at the time of its creation with the attributes and organization by which it is now distinguished.[ ] [ ] "principles of geology," edit. . we trust that sir c. lyell abides still by these truly philosophical principles; and that with his help and with that of his brethren this flimsy speculation may be as completely put down as was what in spite of all denials we must venture to call its twin though less-instructed brother, the "vestiges of creation." in so doing they will assuredly provide for the strength and continually growing progress of british science. indeed, not only do all laws for the study of nature vanish when the great principle of order pervading and regulating all her processes is given up, but all that imparts the deepest interest in the investigation of her wonders will have departed too. under such influences a man soon goes back to the marvelling stare of childhood at the centaurs and hippogriffs of fancy, or if he is of a philosophic turn, he comes like oken to write a scheme of creation under "a sort of inspiration"; but it is the frenzied inspiration of the inhaler of mephitic gas. the whole world of nature is laid for such a man under a fantastic law of glamour, and he becomes capable of believing anything: to him it is just as probable that dr. livingstone will find the next tribe of negroes with their heads growing under their arms as fixed on the summit of the cervical vertebrae; and he is able, with a continually growing neglect of all the facts around him, with equal confidence and equal delusion, to look back to any past and to look on to any future. on cardinal newman [from _the quarterly review_, october, ] _apologia pro vita suâ_. by john henry newman, d.d. few books have been published of late years which combine more distinct elements of interest than the "apologia" of dr. newman. as an autobiography, in the highest sense of that word, as the portraiture, that is, and record of what the man was, irrespective of those common accidents of humanity which too often load the biographer's pages, it is eminently dramatic. to produce such a portrait was the end which the writer proposed to himself, and which he has achieved with a rare fidelity and completeness. hardly do the "confessions of st. augustine" more vividly reproduce the old african bishop before successive generations in all the greatness and struggles of his life than do these pages the very inner being of this remarkable man--"the living intelligence," as he describes it, "by which i write, and argue, and act" (p. ). no wonder that when he first fully recognised what he had to do, he shrank from both the task and the exposure which it would entail. i must, i said, give the true key to my whole life; i must show what i am, that it may be seen what i am not, and that the phantom may be extinguished which gibbers instead of me. i wish to be known as a living man, and not as a scarecrow which is dressed up in my clothes.... i will draw out, as far as may be, the history of my mind; i will state the point at which i began, in what external suggestion or accident each opinion had its rise, how far and how they were developed from within, how they grew, were modified, were combined, were in collision with each other, and were changed. again, how i conducted myself towards them; and how, and how far, and for how long a time, i thought i could hold them consistently with the ecclesiastical engagements which i had made, and with the position which i filled.... it is not at all pleasant for me to be egotistical nor to be criticised for being so. it is not pleasant to reveal to high and low, young and old, what has gone on within me from my early years. it is not pleasant to be giving to every shallow or flippant disputant the advantage over me of knowing my most private thoughts, i might even say the intercourse between myself and my maker. --pp. - . here is the task he set himself, and the task which he has performed. there is in these pages an absolute revealing of the hidden life in its acting, and its processes, which at times is almost startling, which is everywhere of the deepest interest. for the life thus revealed is well worthy of the pen by which it is portrayed. of all those who, in these later years, have quitted the church of england for the roman communion --esteemed, honoured, and beloved, as were many of them--no one, save dr. newman, appears to us to possess the rare gift of undoubted genius. that life, moreover, which anywhere and at any time must have marked its own character on his fellows, was cast precisely at the time and place most favourable for stamping upon others the impress of itself. the plate was ready to receive and to retain every line of the image which was thrown so vividly upon it. the history, therefore, of this life in its shifting scenes of thought, feeling, and purpose, becomes in fact the history of a school, a party, and a sect. from its effect on us, who, from without, judge of it with critical calmness, we can form some idea of what must be its power on those who were within the charmed ring; who were actually under the wand of the enchanter, for whom there was music in that voice, fascination in that eye, and habitual command in that spare but lustrous countenance; and who can trace again in this retrospect the colours and shadows which in those years which fixed their destiny, passed, though in less distinct hues, into their own lives, and made them what they are. again, in another aspect, the "apologia" will have a special interest for most of our readers. almost every page of it will throw some light upon the great controversy which has been maintained for these three hundred years, and which now spreads itself throughout the world, between the anglican church and her oldest and greatest antagonist, the papal see.... the first names to which it introduces us indicate the widely-differing influences under which was formed that party within our church which has acted so powerfully and in such various directions upon its life and teaching. they are those of mr.--afterwards archbishop--whately and dr. hawkins, afterwards and still the provost of oriel college. to intercourse with both of whom dr. newman attributes great results in the formation of his own character: the first emphatically opening his mind and teaching him to use his reason, whilst in religious opinion he taught him the existence of a church, and fixed in him anti-erastian views of church polity; the second being a man of most exact mind, who through a course of severe snubbing taught him to weigh his words and be cautious in his statements. to an almost unknown degree, oriel had at that time monopolised the active speculative intellect of oxford. her fellowships being open, whilst those of other colleges were closed, drew to her the ablest men of the university: whilst the nature of the examination for her fellowships, which took no note of ordinary university honours, and stretched boldly out beyond inquiries as to classical and mathematical attainments in everything which could test the dormant powers of the candidates, had already impressed upon the society a distinctive character of intellectual excellence. the late lord grenville used at this time to term an oriel fellowship the blue ribbon of the university; and, undoubtedly, the results of those examinations have been marvellously confirmed by the event, if we think to what an extent the mind, and opinions, and thoughts of england have been moulded by them who form the list of those "orielenses," of whom it was said in an academic squib of the time, with some truth, flavoured perhaps with a spice of envy, that they were wont to enter the academic circle "under a flourish of trumpets." such a "flourish" certainly has often preceded the entry of far lesser men than e. coplestone, e. hawkins, j. davison, j. keble, r. whately, t. arnold, e.b. pusey, j. h. newman, h. froude, r. j. wilberforce, s. wilberforce, g. a. denison, &c., &c. into a society leavened with such intellectual influences as these, dr. newman, soon after taking his degree, was ushered. it could at this time have borne no distinctively devout character in its religious aspect. rather must it have been marked by the opposite of this. whately, whose powerful and somewhat rude intellect must almost have overawed the common room when the might of davison had been taken from it, was, with all his varied excellences, never by any means an eminently devout, scarcely perhaps an orthodox man. all his earlier writings bristle with paradoxes, which affronted the instincts of simpler and more believing minds. whately, accordingly, appears in these pages as "generous and warmhearted--particularly loyal to his friends" (p. ); as teaching his pupil "to see with my own eyes and to walk with my own feet"; yet as exercising an influence over him (p. ) which, "in a higher respect than intellectual advance, had not been satisfactory," under which he "was beginning to prefer intellectual excellence to moral, was drifting in the direction of liberalism"; a "dream" out of which he was "rudely awakened at the end of , by two great blows--illness and bereavement" (p. ). though this change in his views is traced by dr. newman to the action of these strictly personal causes of illness and bereavement, yet other influences, we suspect, were working strongly in the same direction. it is plain that, so far as regards early permanent impression on the character of his religious opinions, the influence of whately was calculated rather to stir up reaction than to win a convert. "whately's mind," he says himself (p. ), "was too different from mine for us to remain long on one line." the course of events round him impelled him in the same direction, and furnished him with new comrades, on whom henceforth he was to act, and who were to react most powerfully on him. the torrent of reform was beginning its full rush through the land; and its turbulent waters threatened not only to drown the old political landmarks of the constitution, but also to sweep away the church of the nation. abhorrence of these so-called liberal opinions was the electric current which bound together the several minds which speedily appeared as instituting and directing the great oxford church movement. not that it was in any sense the offspring of the old cry of "the church in danger." the meaning of that alarm was the apprehension of danger to the emoluments or position of the church as the established religion in the land. from the very first the oxford movement pointed more to the maintenance of the church as a spiritual society, divinely incorporated to teach certain doctrines, and do certain acts which none other could do, than to the preservation of those temporal advantages which had been conferred by the state. from the first there was a tendency to undervalue these external aids, which made the movement an object of suspicion to thorough church-and-state men. this suspicion was repaid by the members of the new school with a return of contempt. they believed that in struggling for the temporal advantages of the establishment, men had forgotten the essential characteristics of the church, and had been led to barter their divine birthright for the mess of pottage which acts of parliament secured them. thus we find dr. newman remembering his early oxford dislike of "the bigoted two-bottle orthodox." he records (p. ) the characteristic mode in which on the appearance of the first symptoms of his "leaving the clientela" of dr. whately he was punished by that rough humorist. "whately was considerably annoyed at me; and he took a humorous revenge, of which he had given me due notice beforehand.... he asked a set of the least intellectual men in oxford to dinner, and men most fond of port; he made me one of the party; placed me between provost this and principal that, and then asked me if i was proud of my friends" (p. ). it is easy to conceive how he liked them. he had, indeed, though formerly a supporter of catholic emancipation, "acted with them in opposing mr. peel's re-election in , on 'simple academical grounds,' because he thought that a great university ought not to be bullied even by a great duke of wellington" (p. ); but he soon parted with his friends of "two-bottle orthodoxy," and joined the gathering knot of men of an utterly different temper, who "disliked the duke's change of policy as dictated by liberalism" (p. ). this whole company shared the feelings which even yet, after so many years and in such altered circumstances, break forth from dr. newman like the rumblings and smoke of a long extinct volcano, in such utterances as this: "the new bill for the suppression of the irish sees was in prospect, and had filled my mind. i had fierce thoughts against the liberals. it was the success of the liberal cause which fretted me inwardly. i became fierce against its instruments and its manifestations. a french vessel was at algiers; i would not even look at the tricolor" ( ). this was the temper of the whole band. most of these men appear in dr. newman's pages; and from their common earnestness and various endowments a mighty band they were. * * * * * here then was the band which have accomplished so much; which have failed in so much; which have added a new party-name to our vocabulary; which have furnished materials for every scribbling or declaiming political protestant, from the writer of the durham letter down to mr. whalley and mr. harper; which aided so greatly in reawakening the dormant energies of the english church; which carried over to the ranks of her most deadly opponent some of the ablest and most devoted of her sons. the language of these pages has never varied concerning this movement. we have always admitted its many excellences--we have always lamented its evils. as long ago as in , whilst we protested openly and fully against what we termed at the time the "strange and lamentable" publication of mr. froude's "remains,"[ ] we declared our hope that "the publication of the oxford tracts was a very seasonable and valuable contribution to the cause both of the church and the state." and in , even after so many of our hopes had faded away, we yet spoke in the same tone of "this religious movement in our church," as one "from which, however clouded be the present aspect, we doubt not that great blessings have resulted and will result, unless we forfeit them by neglect or wilful abuse."[ ] [ ] "quarterly review," vol. lxiii, p. . [ ] ibid., vol. lxxviii, p. . the history of the progress of the movement lies scattered through these pages. all that we can collect concerning its first intention confirms absolutely mr. perceval's statements, , that it was begun for two leading objects: "first, the firm and practical maintenance of the doctrine of the apostolical succession.... secondly, the preservation in its integrity of the christian doctrine in our prayerbooks."[ ] its unity of action was shaken by the first entrance of doubts into its leader's mind. his retirement from it tended directly to break it up as an actual party. but it would be a monstrous error to suppose that the influence of this movement was extinguished when its conductors were dispersed as a party. so far from it, the system of the church of england took in all the more freely the elements of truth which it had all along been diffusing, because they were no longer scattered abroad by the direct action of an organised party under ostensible chiefs. where, we may ask, is not at this moment the effect of that movement perfectly appreciable within our body? look at the new-built and restored churches of the land; look at the multiplication of schools; the greater exactness of ritual observance; the higher standard of clerical life, service, and devotion; the more frequent celebrations; the cathedrals open; the loving sisterhoods labouring, under episcopal sanction, with the meek, active saintliness of the church's purest time; look--above all, perhaps--at the raised tone of devotion and doctrine amongst us, and see in all these that the movement did not die, but rather flourished with a new vigour when the party of the movement was so greatly broken up. it is surely one of the strangest objections which can be urged against a living spiritual body, that the loss of many of its foremost sons still left its vital strength unimpaired. yet this was dr. newman's objection, and his witness, fourteen years ago, when he complained of the church of england, that though it had given "a hundred educated men to the catholic church, yet the huge creature from which they went forth showed no consciousness of its loss, but shook itself, and went about its work as of old time."[ ] [ ] "collection of papers connected with the theological movement of ." by the hon. and rev. a.p. perceval. . second edition. [ ] "lectures on anglican difficulties," p. . as the unity of the party was broken up, the fire which had burned hitherto in but a single beacon was scattered upon a thousand hills. nevertheless, the first breaking up of the party was eminently disheartening to its living members. but it was not by external violence that it was broken, but by the development within itself of a distinctive romeward bias. dr. newman lays his hand upon a particular epoch in its progress, at which, he says, it was crossed by a new set of men, who imparted to it that leaning to romanism which ever after perceptibly beset it. "a new school of thought was rising, as is usual in such movements, and was sweeping the original party of the movement aside, and was taking its place" (p. ). this is a curious instance of self-delusion. he was, as we maintain, throughout, the romanising element in the whole movement. but for him it might have continued, as its other great chiefs still continue, the ornament and strength of the english church. these younger men, to whom he attributes the change, were, in fact, the minds whom he had consciously or unconsciously fashioned and biassed. some of them, as is ever the case, had outrun their leader. some of them were now, in their sensitive spiritual organism, catching the varying outline of the great leader whom they almost worshipped, and beginning at once to give back his own altering image. instead of seeing in their changing minds this reflection of himself, he dwelt upon it as an original element, and read in its presence an indication of its being the will of god that the stream should turn its flow towards the gulf to which he himself had unawares, it may be, directed its waters. those who remember how at this time he was followed will know how easily such a result might follow his own incipient change. those who can still remember how many often involuntarily caught his peculiar intonation--so distinctively singular, and therefore so attractive in himself and so repulsive in his copyists --will understand how the altering fashion of the leader's thoughts was appropriated with the same unconscious fidelity. one other cause acted powerfully on him and on them to give this bias to the movement, and that was the bitterness and invectives of the liberal party. dr. newman repeatedly reminds us that it was the liberals who drove him from oxford. the four tutors--the after course of one of whom, at least, was destined to display so remarkable a nemesis--and the pack who followed them turned by their ceaseless baying the noble hart who led the rest towards this evil covert. he and they heard incessantly that they were papists in disguise: men dishonoured by professing one thing and holding another; until they began to doubt their own fidelity, and in that doubt was death. nor was this all. the liberals ever (as is their wont), most illiberal to those who differ from them, began to use direct academic persecution; until, in self-distrust and very weariness, the great soul began to abandon the warfare it had waged inwardly against its own inclinations and the fascinations of its enemy, and to yield the first defences to the foe. it will remain written, as dr. newman's deliberate judgment, that it was the liberals who forced him from oxford. how far, if he had not taken that step, he might have again shaken off the errors which were growing on him--how far therefore in driving him from oxford they drove him finally to rome--man can never know. in the new light thrown upon it from the pages of the "apologia," we see with more distinctness than was ever shown before, how greatly this tendency to rome, which at last led astray so many of the masters of the party, was infused into it by the single influence of dr. newman himself. we do not believe that, in spite of his startling speeches, the bias towards rome was at all as strong even in h. froude himself. let his last letter witness for him:--"if," he says, "i was to assign my reasons for belonging to the church of england in preference to any other religious community, it would be simply this, that she has retained an apostolical clergy, and enacts no sinful terms of communion; whereas, on the other hand, the romanists, though retaining an apostolical clergy, do exact sinful terms of communion."[ ] this was the tone of the movement until it was changed in dr. newman. we believe that in tracing this out we shall be using these pages entirely as their author intended them to be used. they were meant to exhibit to his countrymen the whole secret of his moral and spiritual anatomy; they were intended to prove that he was altogether free from that foul and disgraceful taint of innate dishonesty, the unspoken suspicion of which in so many quarters had so long troubled him; the open utterance of which, from the lips of a popular and respectable writer, was so absolutely intolerable to him. from that imputation it is but bare justice to say he does thoroughly clear himself. the post-mortem examination of his life is complete; the hand which guided the dissecting-knife has trembled nowhere, nor shrunk from any incision. all lies perfectly open, and the foul taint is nowhere. and yet, looking back with the writer on the changes which this strange narrative records, from his subscribing, in , towards the first start of the "record" newspaper to his receiving on the th of october, , at littlemore, the "remarkable-looking man, evidently a foreigner, shabbily dressed in black,"[ ] who received him into the papal communion, we see abundant reason, even without the action of that prevalent suspicion of secret dishonesty somewhere, which in english minds inevitably connects itself with the spread of popery, for the widely-diffused impression of that being true which it is so pleasant to find unfounded. [ ] "collection of papers, &c." p. . [ ] "historical notes of the tractarian movement," by canon oakley. dublin review, no. v, p. . from first to last these pages exhibit the habit of dr. newman's mind as eminently subjective. it might almost be described as the exact opposite of that of s. athanasius: with a like all-engrossing love for truth; with ecclesiastical habits often strangely similar; with cognate gifts of the imperishable inheritance of genius, the contradiction here is almost absolute. the abstract proposition, the rightly-balanced proposition, is everything to the eastern, it is well-nigh nothing to the english divine. when led by circumstances to embark in the close examination of dogma, as in his "history of the arians," his nazarite locks of strength appear to have been shorn, and the giant, at whose might we have been marvelling, becomes as any other man. the dogmatic portion of this work is poor and tame; it is only when the writer escapes from dogma into the dramatic representation of the actors in the strife that his powers reappear. for abstract truth it is true to us that he has no engrossing affection: his strength lay in his own apprehension of it, in his power of defending it when once it had been so apprehended and had become engrafted into him; and it is to this as made one with himself, and to his own inward life as fed and nourished by it, that he perpetually reverts. all this is the more remarkable because he conceives himself to have been, even from early youth, peculiarly devoted to dogma in the abstract; he returns continually to this idea, confounding, as we venture to conceive, his estimate of the effect of truth when he received it, on himself, with truth as it exists in the abstract. and as this affected him in regard to dogma, so it reached to his relations to every part of the church around him. it led him to gather up in a dangerous degree, into the person of his "own bishop," the deference due to the whole order. "i did not care much for the bench of bishops, nor should i have cared much for a provincial council.... all these matters seemed to me to be jure ecclesiastico; but what to me was jure divino was the voice of my bishop in his own person. my own bishop was my pope."--(p. .) his intense individuality had substituted the personal bond to the individual for the general bond to the collective holders of the office: and so when the strain became violent it snapped at once. this doubtless natural disposition seems to have been developed, and perhaps permanently fixed, as the law of his intellectual and spiritual being, by the peculiarities of his early religious training. educated in what is called the "evangelical" school, early and consciously converted, and deriving his first religious tone, in great measure, from the vehement but misled calvinism, of which thomas scott, of aston sandford, was one of the ablest and most robust specimens, he was early taught to appreciate, and even to judge of, all external truth mainly in its ascertainable bearings on his own religious experience. in many a man the effect of this teaching is to fix him for life in a hard, narrow, and exclusive school of religious thought and feeling, in which he lives and dies profoundly satisfied with himself and his co-religionists, and quite hopeless of salvation for any beyond the immediate pale in which his own shibboleth is pronounced with the exactest nicety of articulation. but dr. newman's mind was framed upon a wholly different idea, and the results were proportionally dissimilar. with the introvertive tendency which we have ascribed to him, was joined a most subtle and speculative intellect, and an ambitious temper. the "apologia" is the history of the practical working out of those various conditions. his hold upon any truth external to and separate from himself, was so feeble when placed in comparison with his perception of what was passing within himself, that the external truth was always liable to corrections which would make its essential elements harmonize with what was occurring within his own intellectual or spiritual being. we think that we can distinctly trace in these pages a twofold consequence from all this: first, an inexhaustible mutability in his views on all subjects; and secondly, a continually recurring temptation to entire scepticism as to everything external to himself. every page gives illustrations of the first of these. he votes for what was called catholic emancipation, and is drifting into the ranks of liberalism. but the external idea of liberty is very soon metamorphosed, in his view, from the figure of an angel of light into that of a spirit of darkness; first, by his academical feeling that a great university ought not to be bullied even by a great duke, and then by the altered temper of his own feelings, as they are played upon by the alternate vibrations of the gibes of "hurrell froude," and the deep tones of mr. keble's ministrelsy. the history of his religious alternations is in exact keeping with all this. at every separate stage of his course, he constructs for himself a tabernacle in which for a while he rests. this process he repeats with an incessant simplicity of renewed commencements, which is almost like the blind acting of instinct leading the insect, which is conscious of its coming change, to spin afresh and afresh its ever-broken cocoon. he is at one time an anglo-catholic, and sees antichrist in rome; he falls back upon the via media--that breaks down, and left him, he says (p. ), "very nearly a pure protestant"; and again he has a "new theory made expressly for the occasion, and is pleased with his new view" (p. ); he then rests in "samaria" before he finds his way over to rome. for the time every one of these transient tabernacles seems to accomplish its purpose. he finds certain repose for his spirit. whilst sheltered by it, all the great unutterable phenomena of the external world are viewed by him in relation to himself and to his home of present rest. the gourd has grown up in a night, and shelters him by its short-lived shadow from the tyrannous rays of the sunshine. but some sudden irresistible change in his own inward preceptions alters everything. the idea shoots across his mind that the english church is in the position of the monophysite heretics of the fifth century (p. ). at once all his views of truth are changed. he moves on to a new position; pitches anew his tent; builds himself up a new theory; and finds the altitudes of the stars above him, and the very forms of the heavenly constellations, change with the change of his earthly habitation. * * * * * in october the final step is taken, and in the succeeding january the mournful history is closed in the following most touching words:-- jan. , .--you may think how lonely i am. _obliviscere populum tuum et domum patris tui_, has been in my ears for the last twelve hours. i realize more that we are leaving littlemore, and it is like going on the open sea. i left oxford for good on monday, february , . on the saturday and sunday before, i was in my house at littlemore simply by myself, as i had been for the first day or two when i had originally taken possession of it. i slept on sunday night at my dear friend's, mr. johnson's, at the observatory. various friends came to see the last of me--mr. copeland, mr. church, mr. buckle, mr. pattison, and mr. lewis. dr. pusey, too, came up to take leave of me; and i called on dr. ogle, one of my very oldest friends, for he was my private tutor when i was an undergraduate. in him i took leave of my first college, trinity, which was so dear to me, and which held on its foundation so many who have been kind to me, both when i was a boy and all through my oxford life. trinity had never been unkind to me. there used to be much snapdragon growing on the walls opposite my freshman's rooms there, and i had for years taken it as the emblem of my own perpetual residence, even unto death, in my university. on the morning of the rd i left the observatory. i have never seen oxford since, excepting its spires, as they are seen from the railway. what an exceeding sadness is gathered up in these words! and yet the impress of this time left upon some of dr. newman's writings seems, like the ruin which records what was the violence of the throes of the long-passed earthquake, even still more indicative of the terrible character of the struggle through which at this time he passed. we have seen how keenly he felt the suspicious intrusions upon his privacy which haunted his last years in the church of england. but in "loss and gain" there is a yet more expressive exhibition of the extremity of that suffering. he denies as "utterly untrue" the common belief that he "introduced friends or partisans into the tale"; and of course he is to be implicitly believed. and yet one there is whom no one who reads the pages can for a moment doubt is there, and that is dr. newman himself. the weary, unresting, hunted condition of the leading figure in the tale, with all its accompaniment of keen, flashing wit, always seemed to us the history of those days when a well-meant but impertinent series of religious intrusions was well-nigh driving the wise man mad. we have followed out these steps thus in detail, not only because of their intense interest as an autobiography, but also because the narrative itself seems to throw the strongest possible light on the mainly-important question how far this defection of one of her greatest sons does really tend to weaken the argumentative position of the english church in her strife with rome. what has been said already will suffice to prove that in our opinion no such consequence can justly follow from it. we acknowledge freely the greatness of the individual loss. but the causes of that defection are, we think, clearly shown to have been the peculiarities of the individual, not the weakness of the side which he abandoned. his steps mark no path to any other. he sprang clear over the guarding walls of the sheepfold, and opened no way through them for other wanderers. men may have left the church of england because their leader left it; but they could not leave it as he left it, or because of his reasons for leaving it. in truth, he appears never to have occupied a thoroughly real church-of-england position. he was at first, by education and private judgment, a calvinistic puritan; he became dissatisfied with the coldness and barrenness of this theory, and set about finding a new position for himself, and in so doing he skipped over true, sound english churchmanship into a course of feeling and thought allied with and leading on to rome. even the hindrances which so long held him back can scarcely be said to have been indeed the logical force of the unanswerable credentials of the english church. on the contrary they were rather personal impressions, feelings, and difficulties. his faithful, loving nature made him cling desperately to early hopes, friendships, and affections. even to the end thomas scott never loses his hold upon him. his narrative is not the history of the normal progress of a mind from england to rome; it is so thoroughly exceptional that it does not seem calculated to seduce to rome men governed in such high matters by argument and reason rather than by impulse and feeling. we do not therefore think that the mere fact of this secession tells with any force against that communion whose claims satisfied to their dying day such men as hooker and andrewes, and ussher and hammond, and bramhall and butler. but, beyond this, his present view of the english church appears to be incompatible with that fierce and internecine hostility to the claim upon the loyalty of her children which is really essential to clear the act of perverting others from her ranks from the plainest guilt of schism. it is not merely that the nobleness and tenderness of his nature make his tone so unlike that of many of those who have taken the same step with himself. it is not that every provocation--and how many they have been!--every misunderstanding--and they have been all but universal; every unworthy charge or insinuation--down to those of professor kingsley, failed to embitter his feelings against the communion he has deserted and the friends whom he has left. it is not this to which we refer, for this is personal to himself, and the fruit of his own generosity and true greatness of soul. but we refer to his calm, deliberate estimate of the forsaken church. he says, indeed, that since his change he has "had no changes to record, no anxiety of heart whatever. i have been in perfect peace and contentment. i never had one doubt" (p. ). but, as we have seen already, this was always the temporary condition in which every new phase of opinion landed him. he was always able to build up these tabernacles of rest. the difference between this and those former resting-places is clear. in those he was still a searcher after truth: he needed and required conviction, and a new conviction might shake the old comfort. but his present resting-place is built upon the denial of all further enquiry. "i have," he says (p. ), "no further history of religious opinions to narrate": and some following words show how entirely it is this abandonment of the idea of the actual conviction of truth for the blind admission of the dictates of a despotic external authority on which he rests. * * * * * there is another deeply interesting question raised by dr. newman's work, on which, if our limits did not absolutely prevent, we should be glad to enter. we mean the present position of the church of rome with that great rationalistic movement with which we, too, are called to contend. everywhere in europe this contest is proceeding, and the relations of the church of rome towards it are becoming daily more and more embarrassed. mr. ffoulkes tells us that "the 'home and foreign review' is the _only_ publication professing to emanate from roman catholics in this country that can be named in the same breath with the leading protestant reviews."[ ] since he wrote these words its course has been closed by pontifical authority. m. montalembert has barely escaped censure with the payment of the penalty--so heavy to his co-religionists--of an enforced silence; and dr. newman "interprets recent acts of authority as tying the hands of a controversialist such as i should be,"[ ] and so is prevented completing the great work which has occupied so much of his thoughts, and which promised, more than any other work this country is likely to see, to set some limiting boundary line between the provinces of a humble faith in revelation and an ardent love of advancing science. this is an evil inflicted by rome on this whole generation. but in truth, whenever the mind of christendom is active, the attitude of the papal communion before this new enemy is that of a startled, trembling minaciousness, which invites the deadly combat it can so ill maintain. [ ] "union review," ix, . [ ] "apol." . these facts are patent to every one who knows anything whatever of the present state of religious thought throughout roman catholic europe. almost every one knows further that the struggle between those who would subject all science and all the actings of the human mind to the authority of the church, and those who would limit the exercise of that authority more or less to the proper subject-matter of theology, is rife and increasing. the words of, perhaps, the ablest living member of the roman catholic communion have rung through europe, and many a heart in all religious communions has been saddened by the thought of dr. döllinger's virtual censure. and yet it is at such a time as this that dr. manning ventures to put forth his "letters to a friend," painting all as peace, unanimity, and obedient faith within the roman church; all dissension, unbelief, and letting slip of the ancient faith within our own communion. surely such are not the weapons by which the cause of god's truth can be advanced! but we must bring our remarks on the "apologia" to a close. some lessons there are, and those great ones, which this book is calculated to instil into members of our own communion. pre-eminently it shows the rottenness of that mere act-of-parliament foundation on which some, now-a-days, would rest our church. dr. newman suggests, more than once, that such a course must rob us of all our present strength. dr. manning sings his paean with wild and premature delight, as if the evil was already accomplished. in his first letter he triumphed in the silence of convocation, but that silence has since been broken. a solemn synodical judgment, couched in the most explicit language, has condemned the false teaching which had been our church's scandal. but because a "very exalted person in the house of lords"[ ] (p. ), with an ignorance or an ignoring of law, as was shown in the debate, which was simply astonishing, chose, in a manner which even dr. manning condemns, to assert, without a particle of real evidence, that the convocation had exceeded its legitimate powers, dr. manning is in ecstasies. the "very exalted person" becomes "a righteous judge, a learned judge, a daniel come to judgment--yea, a daniel." these shouts of joy ought to be enough to show men where the real danger lies. our present position is impregnable. but if we abandon it for the new one proposed to us by the rationalist party, how shall we be able to stand? how could a national religious establishment which should seek to rest its foundations--not on god's word; on the ancient creeds; on a true apostolic ministry; on valid sacraments; on a living, even though it be an obscured, unity with the universal church, and so on the presence with her of her lord, and on the gifts of his spirit--but upon the critical reason of individuals, and the support of acts of parliament--ever stand in the coming struggle? how could it meet rationalism on the one hand? how could it withstand popery on the other? after such a fatal change its career might be easily foreshadowed. under the assaults of rationalism, it would year by year lose some parts of the great deposit of the catholic faith. under the attacks of rome, it would lose many of those whom it can ill spare, because they believe most firmly in the verities for which she is ready to witness. thus it might continue until our ministry were filled with the time-serving, the ignorant, and the unbelieving; and, when this has come to pass, the day of final doom cannot be far distant. how such evils are to be averted is the anxious question of the present day. the great practical question seems to us to be that to which we have before this alluded,[ ]--how the supreme court of appeal can be made fitter for the due discharge of its momentous functions? we cannot enter here upon that great question. but solved it must be, and solved upon the principles of the great reformation statutes of our land, which maintain, in the supremacy of the crown, our undoubted nationality; which, besides maintaining this great principle of national life, save us from all the terrible practical evils of appeals to rome, and yet which maintain the spirituality of the land, as the guardians under god of the great deposit of the faith, in the very terms in which the catholic church of christ has from the beginning received, and to this day handed down in its completeness, the inestimable gift. [ ] hansard's "house of lord's debates," july , [ ] "quarterly review," vol. cxv. p. anonymous on "waverley" [from _the quarterly review_, july, ] _waverley; or, 'tis sixty years since_. vols. mo. edinburgh, . we have had so many occasions to invite our readers' attention to that species of composition called novels, and have so often stated our general views of the principles of this very agreeable branch of literature, that we shall venture on the consideration of our present subject with but a few observations, and those applicable to a class of novels, of which it is a favourable specimen. the earlier novelists wrote at periods when society was not perfectly formed, and we find that their picture of life was an embodying of their own conceptions of the "_beau idéal_."--heroes all generosity and ladies all chastity, exalted above the vulgarities of society and nature, maintain, through eternal folios, their visionary virtues, without the stain of any moral frailty, or the degradation of any human necessities. but this high-flown style went out of fashion as the great mass of mankind became more informed of each other's feelings and concerns, and as a nearer intercourse taught them that the real course of human life is a conflict of duty and desire, of virtue and passion, of right and wrong; in the description of which it is difficult to say whether uniform virtue or unredeemed vice would be in the greater degree tedious and absurd. the novelists next endeavoured to exhibit a general view of society. the characters in gil blas and tom jones are not individuals so much as specimens of the human race; and these delightful works have been, are, and ever will be popular, because they present lively and accurate delineations of the workings of the human soul, and that every man who reads them is obliged to confess to himself, that in similar circumstances with the personages of le sage and fielding, he would probably have acted in the way in which they are described to have done. from this species the transition to a third was natural. the first class was theory--it was improved into a _generic_ description, and that again led the way to a more particular classification--a copying not of man in general, but of men of a peculiar nation, profession, or temper, or, to go a step further--of _individuals_. thus alcander and cyrus could never have existed in human society--they are neither french, nor english, nor italian, because it is only allegorically that they are _men_. tom jones might have been a frenchman, and gil blas an englishman, because the essence of their characters is human nature, and the personal situation of the individual is almost indifferent to the success of the object which the author proposed to himself: while, on the other hand, the characters of the most popular novels of later times are irish, or scotch, or french, and not in the abstract, _men_.--the general operations of nature are circumscribed to her effects on an individual character, and the modern novels of this class, compared with the broad and noble style of the earlier writers, may be considered as dutch pictures, delightful in their vivid and minute details of common life, wonderfully entertaining to the close observer of peculiarities, and highly creditable to the accuracy, observation and humour of the painter, but exciting none of those more exalted feelings, giving none of those higher views of the human soul which delight and exalt the mind of the spectator of raphael, correggio, or murillo. but as in a gallery we are glad to see every style of excellence, and are ready to amuse ourselves with teniers and gerard dow, so we derive great pleasure from the congenial delineations of castle rack-rent and waverley; and we are well assured that any reader who is qualified to judge of the illustration we have borrowed from a sister art, will not accuse us of undervaluing, by this comparison, either miss edgeworth or the ingenious author of the work now under consideration. we mean only to say, that the line of writing which they have adopted is less comprehensive and less sublime, but not that it is less entertaining or less useful than that of their predecessors. on the contrary, so far as utility constitutes merit in a novel, we have no hesitation in preferring the moderns to their predecessors. we do not believe that any man or woman was ever improved in morals or manners by the reading of tom jones or peregrine pickle, though we are confident that many have profited by the tales of fashionable life, and the cottagers of glenburnie. we have heard waverley called a scotch castle rack-rent; and we have ourselves alluded to a certain resemblance between these works; but we must beg leave to explain that the resemblance consists only in this, that the one is a description of the peculiarities of scottish manners as the other is of those of ireland; and that we are far from placing on the same level the merits and qualities of the works. waverley is of a much higher strain, and may be safely placed far above the amusing vulgarity of castle rack-rent, and by the side of ennui or the absentee, the best undoubtedly of miss edgeworth's compositions. * * * * * we shall conclude this article, which has grown to an immoderate length, by observing what, indeed, our readers must have already discovered, that waverley, who gives his name to the story, is far from being its hero, and that in truth the interest and merit of the work is derived, not from any of the ordinary qualities of a novel, but from the truth of its facts, and the accuracy of its delineations. we confess that we have, speaking generally, a great objection to what may be called historical romance, in which real and fictitious personages, and actual and fabulous events are mixed together to the utter confusion of the reader, and the unsettling of all accurate recollections of past transactions; and we cannot but wish that the ingenious and intelligent author of waverley had rather employed himself in recording _historically_ the character and transactions of his countrymen _sixty years since_, than in writing a work, which, though it may be, in its facts, almost true, and in its delineations perfectly accurate, will yet, in sixty years _hence_, be regarded, or rather, probably, _disregarded_, as a _mere_ romance, and the gratuitous invention of a facetious fancy. on scott's "tales of my landlord" [from _the quarterly review_, january, ] _tales of my landlord_. vols. mo. third edition. blackwood, edinburgh. john murray, london. . these tales belong obviously to a class of novels which we have already had occasion repeatedly to notice, and which have attracted the attention of the public in no common degree,--we mean waverley, guy mannering, and the antiquary, and we have little hesitation to pronounce them either entirely, or in a great measure, the work of the same author. why he should industriously endeavour to elude observation by taking leave of us in one character, and then suddenly popping out upon us in another, we cannot pretend to guess without knowing more of his personal reasons for preserving so strict an incognito that has hitherto reached us. we can, however, conceive many reasons for a writer observing this sort of mystery; not to mention that it has certainly had its effect in keeping up the interest which his works have excited. we do not know if the imagination of our author will sink in the opinion of the public when deprived of that degree of invention which we have been hitherto disposed to ascribe to him; but we are certain that it ought to increase the value of his portraits, that human beings have actually sate for them. these coincidences between fiction and reality are perhaps the very circumstances to which the success of these novels is in a great measure to be attributed: for, without depreciating the merit of the artist, every spectator at once recognizes in those scenes and faces which are copied from nature an air of distinct reality, which is not attached to fancy-pieces however happily conceived and elaborately executed. by what sort of freemasonry, if we may use the term, the mind arrives at this conviction, we do not pretend to guess, but every one must have felt that he instinctively and almost insensibly recognizes in painting, poetry, or other works of imagination, that which is copied from existing nature, and that he forthwith clings to it with that kindred interest which thinks nothing which is human indifferent to humanity. before therefore we proceed to analyse the work immediately before us, we beg leave briefly to notice a few circumstances connected with its predecessors. our author has told us it was his object to present a succession of scenes and characters connected with scotland in its past and present state, and we must own that his stories are so slightly constructed as to remind us of the showman's thread with which he draws up his pictures and presents them successively to the eye of the spectator. he seems seriously to have proceeded on mr. bays's maxim--"what the deuce is a plot good for, but to bring in fine things?"--probability and perspicuity of narrative are sacrificed with the utmost indifference to the desire of producing effect; and provided the author can but contrive to "surprize and elevate," he appears to think that he has done his duty to the public. against this slovenly indifference we have already remonstrated, and we again enter our protest. it is in justice to the author himself that we do so, because, whatever merit individual scenes and passages may possess, (and none have been more ready than ourselves to offer our applause), it is clear that their effect would be greatly enhanced by being disposed in a clear and continued narrative. we are the more earnest in this matter, because it seems that the author errs chiefly from carelessness. there may be something of system in it, however: for we have remarked, that with an attention which amounts even to affectation, he has avoided the common language of narrative, and thrown his story, as much as possible, into a dramatic shape. in many cases this has added greatly to the effect, by keeping both the actors and action continually before the reader, and placing him, in some measure, in the situation of the audience at a theatre, who are compelled to gather the meaning of the scene from what the _dramatis personae_ say to each other, and not from any explanation addressed immediately to themselves. but though the author gain this advantage, and thereby compel the reader to think of the personages of the novel and not of the writer, yet the practice, especially pushed to the extent we have noticed, is a principal cause of the flimsiness and incoherent texture of which his greatest admirers are compelled to complain. few can wish his success more sincerely than we do, and yet without more attention on his own part, we have great doubts of its continuance. in addition to the loose and incoherent style of the narration, another leading fault in these novels is the total want of interest which the reader attaches to the character of the hero. waverley, brown, or bertram in guy mannering, and lovel in the antiquary, are all brethren of a family; very amiable and very insipid sort of young men. we think we can perceive that this error is also in some degree occasioned by the dramatic principle upon which the author frames his plots. his chief characters are never actors, but always acted upon by the spur of circumstances, and have their fates uniformly determined by the agency of the subordinate persons. this arises from the author having usually represented them as foreigners to whom every thing in scotland is strange,--a circumstance which serves as his apology for entering into many minute details which are reflectively, as it were, addressed to the reader through the medium of the hero. while he is going into explanations and details which, addressed directly to the reader, might appear tiresome and unnecessary, he gives interest to them by exhibiting the effect which they produce upon the principal person of his drama, and at the same time obtains a patient hearing for what might otherwise be passed over without attention. but if he gains this advantage, it is by sacrificing the character of the hero. no one can be interesting to the reader who is not himself a prime agent in the scene. this is understood even by the worthy citizen and his wife, who are introduced as prolocutors in fletcher's knight of the burning pestle. when they are asked what the principal person of the drama shall do?--the answer is prompt and ready--"marry, let him come forth and kill a giant." there is a good deal of tact in the request. every hero in poetry, in fictitious narrative, ought to come forth and do or say something or other which no other person could have done or said; make some sacrifice, surmount some difficulty, and become interesting to us otherwise than by his mere appearance on the scene, the passive tool of the other characters. the insipidity of this author's heroes may be also in part referred to the readiness with which the twists and turns his story to produce some immediate and perhaps temporary effect. this could hardly be done without representing the principal character either as inconsistent or flexible in his principles. the ease with which waverley adopts and after forsakes the jacobite party in is a good example of what we mean. had he been painted as a steady character, his conduct would have been improbable. the author was aware of this; and yet, unwilling to relinquish an opportunity of introducing the interior of the chevalier's military court, the circumstances of the battle of preston-pans, and so forth, he hesitates not to sacrifice poor waverley, and to represent him as a reed blown about at the pleasure of every breeze: a less careless writer would probably have taken some pains to gain the end proposed in a more artful and ingenious manner. but our author was hasty, and has paid the penalty of his haste. we have hinted that we are disposed to question the originality of these novels in point of invention, and that in doing so, we do not consider ourselves as derogating from the merit of the author, to whom, on the contrary, we give the praise due to one who has collected and brought out with accuracy and effect, incidents and manners which might otherwise have slept in oblivion. we proceed to our proofs.[ ] [ ] it will be readily conceived that the curious mss. and other information of which we have availed ourselves were not accessible to us in this country; but we have been assiduous in our inquiries; and are happy enough to possess a correspondent whose researches on the spot have been indefatigable, and whose kind, and ready communications have anticipated all our wishes. * * * * * the traditions and manners of the scotch were so blended with superstitious practices and fears, that the author of these novels seems to have deemed it incumbent on him, to transfer many more such incidents to his novels, than seem either probable or natural to an english reader. it may be some apology that his story would have lost the national cast, which it was chiefly his object to preserve, had this been otherwise. there are few families of antiquity in scotland, which do not possess some strange legends, told only under promise of secrecy, and with an air of mystery; in developing which, the influence of the powers of darkness is referred to. the truth probably is, that the agency of witches and demons was often made to account for the sudden disappearance of individuals and similar incidents, too apt to arise out of the evil dispositions of humanity, in a land where revenge was long held honourable--where private feuds and civil broils disturbed the inhabitants for ages--and where justice was but weakly and irregularly executed. mr. law, a conscientious but credulous clergyman of the kirk of scotland, who lived in the seventeenth century, has left behind him a very curious manuscript, in which, with the political events of that distracted period, he has intermingled the various portents and marvellous occurrences which, in common with his age, he ascribed to supernatural agency. the following extract will serve to illustrate the taste of this period for the supernatural. when we read such things recorded by men of sense and education, (and mr. law was deficient in neither), we cannot help remembering the times of paganism, when every scene, incident, and action, had its appropriate and presiding deity. it is indeed curious to consider what must have been the sensations of a person, who lived under this peculiar species of hallucination, believing himself beset on all hands by invisible agents; one who was unable to account for the restiveness of a nobleman's carriage horses otherwise than by the immediate effect of witchcraft: and supposed that the _sage femme_ of the highest reputation was most likely to devote the infants to the infernal spirits, upon their very entrance into life. * * * * * to the superstitions of the north britons must be added their peculiar and characteristic amusements; and here we have some atonement to make to the memory of the learned paulus pleydell, whose compotatory relaxations, better information now inclines us to think, we mentioned with somewhat too little reverence. before the new town of edinburgh (as it is called) was built, its inhabitants lodged, as is the practice of paris at this day, in large buildings called _lands_, each family occupying a story, and having access to it by a stair common to all the inhabitants. these buildings, when they did not front the high street of the city, composed the sides of little, narrow, unwholesome _closes_ or lanes. the miserable and confined accommodation which such habitations afforded, drove _men of business_, as they were called, that is, people belonging to the law, to hold their professional rendezvouses in taverns, and many lawyers of eminence spent the principal part of their time in some tavern of note, transacted their business there, received the visits of clients with their writers or attornies, and suffered no imputation from so doing. this practice naturally led to habits of conviviality, to which the scottish lawyers, till of very late years, were rather too much addicted. few men drank so hard as the counsellors of the old school, and there survived till of late some veterans who supported in that respect the character of their predecessors. to vary the humour of a joyous evening many frolics were resorted to, and the game of _high jinks_ was one of the most common.[ ] in fact, high jinks was one of the _petits jeux_ with which certain circles were wont to while away the time; and though it claims no alliance with modern associations, yet, as it required some shrewdness and dexterity to support the characters assumed for the occasion, it is not difficult to conceive that it might have been as interesting and amusing to the parties engaged in it, as counting the spots of a pack of cards, or treasuring in memory the rotation in which they are thrown on the table. the worst of the game was what that age considered as its principal excellence, namely, that the forfeitures being all commuted for wine, it proved an encouragement to hard drinking, the prevailing vice of the age. [ ] we have learned, with some dismay, that one of the ablest lawyers scotland ever produced, and who lives to witness (although in retirement) the various changes which have taken place in her courts of judicature, a man who has filled with marked distinction the highest offices of his profession, _tush'd_ (pshaw'd) extremely at the delicacy of our former criticism. and certainly he claims some title to do so, having been in his youth not only a witness of such orgies as are described as proceeding under the auspices of mr. pleydell, but himself a distinguished performer. on the subject of davie gellatley, the fool of the baron of bradwardine's family, we are assured there is ample testimony that a custom, referred to shakespeare's time in england, had, and in remote provinces of scotland, has still its counterpart, to this day. we do not mean to say that the professed jester with his bauble and his party-coloured vestment can be found in any family north of the tweed. yet such a personage held this respectable office in the family of the earls of strathemore within the last century, and his costly holiday dress, garnished with bells of silver, is still preserved in the castle of glamis. but we are assured, that to a much later period, and even to this moment, the habits and manners of scotland have had some tendency to preserve the existence of this singular order of domestics. there are (comparatively speaking) no poor's rates in the country parishes of scotland, and of course no work-houses to immure either their worn out poor or the "moping idiot and the madman gay," whom crabbe characterizes as the happiest inhabitants of these mansions, because insensible of their misfortunes. it therefore happens almost necessarily in scotland, that the house of the nearest proprietor of wealth and consequence proves a place of refuge for these outcasts of society; and until the pressure of the times, and the calculating habits which they have necessarily generated had rendered the maintenance of a human being about such a family an object of some consideration, they usually found an asylum there, and enjoyed the degree of comfort of which their limited intellect rendered them susceptible. such idiots were usually employed in some simple sort of occasional labour; and if we are not misinformed, the situation of turn-spit was often assigned them, before the modern improvement of the smoke-jack. but, however employed, they usually displayed towards their benefactors a sort of instinctive attachment which was very affecting. we knew one instance in which such a being refused food for many days, pined away, literally broke his heart, and died within the space of a very few weeks after his benefactor's decease. we cannot now pause to deduce the moral inference which might be derived from such instances. it is however evident, that if there was a coarseness of mind in deriving amusement from the follies of these unfortunate beings, a circumstance to the disgrace of which they were totally insensible, their mode of life was, in other respects, calculated to promote such a degree of happiness as their faculties permitted them to enjoy. but besides the amusement which our forefathers received from witnessing their imperfections and extravagancies, there was a more legitimate source of pleasure in the wild wit which they often flung around them with the freedom of shakespeare's licensed clowns. there are few houses in scotland of any note or antiquity where the witty sayings of some such character are not occasionally quoted at this very day. the pleasure afforded to our forefathers by such repartees was no doubt heightened by their wanting the habits of more elegant amusement. but in scotland the practice long continued, and in the house of one of the very first noblemen of that country (a man whose name is never mentioned without reverence) and that within the last twenty years, a jester such as we have mentioned stood at the side-table during dinner, and occasionally amused the guests by his extemporaneous sallies. imbecility of this kind was even considered as an apology for intrusion upon the most solemn occasions. all know the peculiar reverence with which the scottish of every rank attend on funeral ceremonies. yet within the memory of most of the present generation, an idiot of an appearance equally hideous and absurd, dressed, as if in mockery, in a rusty and ragged black coat, decorated with a cravat and weepers made of white paper in the form of those worn by the deepest mourners, preceded almost every funeral procession in edinburgh, as if to turn into ridicule the last rites paid to mortality. it has been generally supposed that in the case of these as of other successful novels, the most prominent and peculiar characters were sketched from real life. it was only after the death of smollet, that two barbers and a shoemaker contended about the character of strap, which each asserted was modelled from his own: but even in the lifetime of the present author, there is scarcely a dale in the pastoral districts of the southern counties but arrogates to itself the possession of the original dandie dinmont. as for baillie mac wheeble, a person of the highest eminence in the law perfectly well remembers having received fees from him. * * * * * although these strong resemblances occur so frequently, and with such peculiar force, as almost to impress us with the conviction that the author sketched from nature, and not from fancy alone; yet we hesitate to draw any positive conclusion, sensible that a character dashed off as the representative of a certain class of men will bear, if executed with fidelity to the general outlines, not only that resemblance which he ought to possess as "knight of the shire," but also a special affinity to some particular individual. it is scarcely possible it should be otherwise. when emery appears on the stage as a yorkshire peasant, with the habit, manner, and dialect peculiar to the character, and which he assumes with so much truth and fidelity, those unacquainted with the province or its inhabitants see merely the abstract idea, the beau ideal of a yorkshireman. but to those who are intimate with both, the action and manner of the comedian almost necessarily recall the idea of some individual native (altogether unknown probably to the performer) to whom his exterior and manners bear a casual resemblance. we are therefore on the whole inclined to believe, that the incidents are frequently copied from _actual_ occurrences, but that the characters are either entirely fictitious, or if any traits have been borrowed from real life, as in the anecdote which we have quoted respecting invernahyle, they have been carefully disguised and blended with such as are purely imaginary. we now proceed to a more particular examination of the volumes before us. they are entitled "tales of my landlord": why so entitled, excepting to introduce a quotation from don quixote, it is difficult to conceive: for tales of my landlord they are _not_, nor is it indeed easy to say whose tales they ought to be called. there is a proem, as it is termed, supposed to be written by jedediah cleishbotham, the schoolmaster and parish clerk of the village of gandercleugh, in which we are given to understand that these tales were compiled by his deceased usher, mr. peter pattieson, from the narratives or conversations of such travellers as frequented the wallace inn, in that village. of this proem we shall only say that it is written in the quaint style of that prefixed by gay to his pastorals, being, as johnson terms it, "such imitation as he could obtain of obsolete language, and by consequence in a style that was never written nor spoken in any age or place." * * * * * we have given these details partly in compliance with the established rules which our office prescribes, and partly in the hope that the authorities we have been enabled to bring together might give additional light and interest to the story. from the unprecedented popularity of the work, we cannot flatter ourselves that our summary has made any one of our readers acquainted with events with which he was not previously familiar. the causes of that popularity we may be permitted shortly to allude to; we cannot even hope to exhaust them, and it is the less necessary that we should attempt it, since we cannot suggest a consideration which a perusal of the work has not anticipated in the minds of all our readers. one great source of the universal admiration which this family of novels has attracted, is their peculiar plan, and the distinguished excellence with which it has been executed. the objections that have frequently been stated against what are called historical romances, have been suggested, we think, rather from observing the universal failure of that species of composition, than from any inherent and constitutional defect in the species of composition itself. if the manners of different ages are injudiciously blended together,--if unpowdered crops and slim and fairy shapes are commingled in the dance with volumed wigs and far-extending hoops,--if in the portraiture of real character the truth of history be violated, the eyes of the spectator are necessarily averted from a picture which excites in every well regulated and intelligent mind the hatred of incredulity. we have neither time nor inclination to enforce our remark by giving illustrations of it. but if those unpardonable sins against good taste can be avoided, and the features of an age gone by can be recalled in a spirit of delineation at once faithful and striking, the very opposite is the legitimate conclusion: the composition itself is in every point of view dignified and improved; and the author, leaving the light and frivolous associates with whom a careless observer would be disposed to ally him, takes his seat on the bench of the historians of his time and country. in this proud assembly, and in no mean place of it, we are disposed to rank the author of these works; for we again express our conviction--and we desire to be understood to use the term as distinguished from _knowledge_--that they are all the offspring of the same parent. at once a master of the great events and minuter incidents of history, and of the manners of the times he celebrates, as distinguished from those which now prevail,--the intimate thus of the living and of the dead, his judgment enables him to separate those traits which are characteristic from those that are generic; and his imagination, not less accurate and discriminating than vigorous and vivid, presents to the mind of the reader the manners of the times, and introduces to his familiar acquaintance the individuals of his drama as they thought and spoke and acted. we are not quite sure that any thing is to be found in the manner and character of the black dwarf which would enable us, without the aid of the author's information, and the facts he relates, to give it to the beginning of the last century; and, as we have already remarked, his free-booting robber lives, perhaps, too late in time. but his delineation is perfect. with palpable and inexcusable defects in the _dénouement_, there are scenes of deep and overwhelming interest; and every one, we think, must be delighted with the portrait of the grandmother of hobbie elliott, a representation soothing and consoling in itself, and heightened in its effect by the contrast produced from the lighter manners of the younger members of the family, and the honest but somewhat blunt and boisterous bearing of the shepherd himself. the second tale, however, as we have remarked, is more adapted to the talents of the author, and his success has been proportionably triumphant. we have trespassed too unmercifully on the time of our gentle readers to indulge our inclination in endeavouring to form an estimate of that melancholy but, nevertheless, most attractive period in our history, when by the united efforts of a corrupt and unprincipled government, of extravagant fanaticism, want of education, perversion of religion, and the influence of ill-instructed teachers, whose hearts and understandings were estranged and debased by the illapses of the wildest enthusiasm, the liberty of the people was all but extinguished, and the bonds of society nearly dissolved. revolting as all this is to the patriot, it affords fertile materials to the poet. as to the _beauty_ of the delineation presented to the reader in this tale, there is, we believe, but one opinion: and we are persuaded that the more carefully and dispassionately it is contemplated, the more perfect will it appear in the still more valuable qualities of fidelity and truth. we have given part of the evidence on which we say this, and we will again recur to the subject. the opinions and language of the _honest party_ are detailed with the accuracy of a witness; and he who could open to our view the state of the scottish peasantry, perishing in the field or on the scaffold, and driven to utter and just desperation, in attempting to defend their first and most sacred rights; who could place before our eyes the leaders of these enormities, from the notorious duke of lauderdale downwards to the fellow mind that executed his behest, precisely as they lived and looked,--such a chronicler cannot justly be charged with attempting to extenuate or throw into the shade the corruptions of a government that soon afterwards fell a victim to its own follies and crimes. independently of the delineation of the manners and characters of the times to which the story refers, it is impossible to avoid noticing, as a separate excellence, the faithful representation of general nature. looking not merely to the litter of novels that peep out for a single day from the mud where they were spawned, but to many of more ambitious pretensions--it is quite evident that in framing them, the authors have first addressed themselves to the involutions and developement of the story, as the principal object of their attention; and that in entangling and unravelling the plot, in combining the incidents which compose it, and even in depicting the characters, they sought for assistance chiefly in the writings of their predecessors. baldness, and uniformity, and inanity are the inevitable results of this slovenly and unintellectual proceeding. the volume which this author has studied is the great book of nature. he has gone abroad into the world in quest of what the world will certainly and abundantly supply, but what a man of great discrimination alone will find, and a man of the very highest genius will alone depict after he has discovered it. the characters of shakespeare are not more exclusively human, not more perfectly men and women as they live and move, than those of this mysterious author. it is from this circumstance that, as we have already observed, many of his personages are supposed to be sketched from real life. he must have mixed much and variously in the society of his native country; his studies must have familiarized him to systems of manners now forgotten; and thus the persons of his drama, though in truth the creatures of his own imagination, convey the impression of individuals who we are persuaded must exist, or are evoked from their graves in all their original freshness, entire in their lineaments, and perfect in all the minute peculiarities of dress and demeanour. * * * * * admitting, however, that these portraits are sketched with spirit and effect, two questions arise of much more importance than any thing affecting the merits of the novels--namely, whether it is safe or prudent to imitate, in a fictitious narrative, and often with a view to a ludicrous effect, the scriptural style of the zealots of the seventeenth century; and secondly, whether the recusant presbyterians, collectively considered, do not carry too reverential and sacred a character to be treated by an unknown author with such insolent familiarity. on the first subject, we frankly own we have great hesitation. it is scarcely possible to ascribe scriptural expressions to hypocritical or extravagant characters without some risk of mischief, because it will be apt to create an habitual association between the expression and the ludicrous manner in which it is used, unfavourable to the reverence due to the sacred text. and it is no defence to state that this is an error inherent in the plan of the novel. bourdaloue, a great authority, extends this restriction still farther, and denounces all attempts to unmask hypocrisy by raillery, because in doing so the satirist is necessarily compelled to expose to ridicule the religious vizard of which he has divested him. yet even against such authority it may be stated, that ridicule is the friend both of religion and virtue, when directed against those who assume their garb, whether from hypocrisy or fanaticism. the satire of butler, not always decorous in these particulars, was yet eminently useful in stripping off their borrowed gravity and exposing to public ridicule the affected fanaticism of the times in which he lived. it may also be remembered, that in the days of queen anne a number of the camisars or huguenots of dauphiné arrived as refugees in england, and became distinguished by the name of the french prophets. the fate of these enthusiasts in their own country had been somewhat similar to that of the covenanters. like them, they used to assemble in the mountains and desolate places, to the amount of many hundreds, in arms, and like them they were hunted and persecuted by the military. like them, they were enthusiasts, though their enthusiasm assumed a character more decidedly absurd. the fugitive camisars who came to london had convulsion-fits, prophesied, made converts, and attracted the public attention by an offer to raise the dead. the english minister, instead of fine and imprisonment and other inflictions which might have placed them in the rank and estimation of martyrs, and confirmed in their faith their numerous disciples, encouraged a dramatic author to bring out a farce on the subject which, though neither very witty nor very delicate, had the good effect of laughing the french prophets out of their audience and putting a stop to an inundation of nonsense which could not have failed to disgrace the age in which it appeared. the camisars subsided into their ordinary vocation of psalmodic whiners, and no more was heard of their sect or their miracles. it would be well if all folly of the kind could be so easily quelled: for enthusiastic nonsense, whether of this day or of those which have passed away, has no more title to shelter itself under the veil of religion than a common pirate to be protected by the reverence due to an honoured and friendly flag. still, however, we must allow that there is great delicacy and hesitation to be used in employing the weapon of ridicule on any point connected with religion. some passages occur in the work before us for which the writer's sole apology must be the uncontroulable disposition to indulge the peculiarity of his vein of humour--a temptation which even the saturnine john knox was unable to resist either in narrating the martyrdom of his friend wisheart or the assassination of his enemy beatson, and in the impossibility of resisting which his learned and accurate biographer has rested his apology for this mixture of jest and earnest. "there are writers," he says (rebutting the charge of hume against knox), "who can treat the most sacred subjects with a levity bordering on profanity. must we at once pronounce them profane, and is nothing to be set down to the score of natural temper inclining them to wit and humour? the pleasantry which knox has mingled with his narrative of his (cardinal beatson's) death and burial is unseasonable and unbecoming. but it is to be imputed not to any pleasure which he took in describing a bloody scene, but to the strong propensity which he had to indulge his vein of humour. those who have read his history with attention must have perceived that he is not able to check this even on the very serious occasions."--_macrie's life of knox_, p. . indeed dr. macrie himself has given us a striking instance of the indulgence which the presbyterian clergy, even of the strictest persuasion, permit to the _vis comica_. after describing a polemical work as "ingeniously constructed and occasionally enlivened with strokes of humour," he transfers, to embellish his own pages, (for we can discover no purpose of edification which the tale serves), a ludicrous parody made by an ignorant parish-priest on certain words of a psalm, too sacred to be here quoted. our own innocent pleasantry cannot, in this instance, be quite reconciled with that of the learned biographer of john knox, but we can easily conceive that his authority may be regarded in scotland as decisive of the extent to which a humourist may venture in exercising his wit upon scriptural expressions without incurring censure even from her most rigid divines. it may however be a very different point how far the author is entitled to be acquitted upon the second point of indictment. to use too much freedom with things sacred is a course much more easily glossed over than that of exposing to ridicule the persons of any particular sect. every one knows the reply of the great prince of condé to louis xiv when this monarch expressed his surprize at the clamour excited by molière's tartuffe, while a blasphemous farce called _scaramouche hermite_ was performed without giving any scandal: "c'est parceque scaramouche ne jouoit que le ciel et la religion, dont les dévots se soucioient beaucoup moins que d'eux-mêmes." we believe, therefore, the best service we can do our author in the present case is to shew that the odious part of his satire applies only to that fierce and unreasonable set of extra-presbyterians, whose zeal, equally absurd and cruel, afforded pretexts for the severities inflicted on non-conformists without exception, and gave the greatest scandal and offence to the wise, sober, enlightened, and truly pious among the presbyterians. the principal difference betwixt the cameronians and the rational presbyterians has been already touched upon. it may be summed in a very few words. after the restoration of charles ii episcopacy was restored in scotland, upon the unanimous petition of the scottish parliament. had this been accompanied with a free toleration of the presbyterians, whose consciences preferred a different mode of church-government, we do not conceive there would have been any wrong done to that ancient kingdom. but instead of this, the most violent means of enforcing conformity were resorted to without scruple, and the ejected presbyterian clergy were persecuted by penal statutes and prohibited from the exercise of their ministry. these rigours only made the people more anxiously seek out and adhere to the silenced preachers. driven from the churches, they held conventicles in houses. expelled from cities and the mansions of men, they met on the hills and deserts like the french huguenots. assailed with arms, they repelled force by force. the severity of the rulers, instigated by the episcopal clergy, increased with the obstinacy of the recusants, until the latter, in , assumed arms for the purpose of asserting their right to worship god in their own way. they were defeated at pentland; and in a gleam of common sense and justice seems to have beamed upon the scottish councils of charles. they granted what was called an _indulgence_ (afterwards repeatedly renewed) to the presbyterian clergy, assigned them small stipends, and permitted them to preach in such deserted churches as should be assigned to them by the scottish privy council. this "indulgence," though clogged with harsh conditions and frequently renewed or capriciously recalled, was still an acceptable boon to the wiser and better part of the presbyterian clergy, who considered it as an opening to the exercise of their ministry under the lawful authority, which they continued to acknowledge. but fiercer and more intractable principles were evinced by the younger ministers of that persuasion. they considered the submitting to exercise their ministry under the controul of any visible authority as absolute erastianism, a desertion of the great invisible and divine head of the church, and a line of conduct which could only be defended, says one of their tracts, by nullifidians, time-servers, infidels, or the archbishop of canterbury. they held up to ridicule and abhorrence such of their brethren as considered mere toleration as a boon worth accepting. every thing, according to these fervent divines, which fell short of re-establishing presbytery as the sole and predominating religion, all that did not imply a full restoration of the solemn league and covenant, was an imperfect and unsound composition between god and mammon, episcopacy and prelacy. the following extracts from a printed sermon by one of them, on the subject of "soul-confirmation," will at once exemplify the contempt and scorn with which these high-flyers regarded their more sober-minded brethren, and serve as a specimen of the homely eloquence with which they excited their followers. the reader will probably be of opinion that it is worthy of kettledrummle himself, and will serve to clear mr. jedediah cleishbotham of the charge of exaggeration. there is many folk that has a face to the religion that is in fashion, and there is many folk, they have ay a face to the old company, they have a face for godly folk, and they have a face for persecutors of godly folk, and they will be daddies bairns and minnies bairns both; they will be _prelates_ bairns and they will be _malignants_ bairns and they will be the people of god's bairns. and what think ye of that bastard temper? poor peter had a trial of this soupleness, but god made paul an instrument to take him by the neck and shake it from him: and o that god would take us by the neck and shake our soupleness from us. therefore you that keeps only your old job-trot, and does not mend your pace, you will not wone at _soul-confirmation,_ there is a whine (i.e., _a few_) old job-trot, and does not mend your pace, you will not wone at _soul-confirmation,_ there is a whine old job-trot ministers among us, a whine old job-trot professors, they have their own pace, and faster they will not go; o therefore they could never wine to _soul-confirmation_ in the mettere of god. and our old job-trot ministers is turned _curates_, and our old job-trot professors is joined with them, and now this way god has turned them inside out, and has made it manifest and when their heart is hanging upon this braw, i will not give a gray groat for them and their profession both. the devil has the ministers and professors of scotland, now in a sive, and o as he sifts, and o as he riddles, and o as he rattles, and o the chaff he gets; and i fear there be more chaff nor there be good corn, and that will be found among us or all be done: but the _soul-confirmed_ man leaves ever the devil at two more, and he has ay the matter gadged, and leaves ay the devil in the lee side,--sirs o work in the day of the cross. the more moderate presbyterian ministers saw with pain and resentment the lower part of their congregation, who had least to lose by taking desperate courses, withdrawn from their flocks, by their more zealous pretenders to purity of doctrine, while they themselves were held up to ridicule, old jog trot professors and chaff-winnowed out and flung away by satan. they charged the cameronian preachers with leading the deluded multitude to slaughter at bothwell, by prophesying a certainty of victory, and dissuading them from accepting the amnesty offered by monmouth. "all could not avail," says mr. law, himself a presbyterian minister, "with mccargill, kidd, douglas, and other witless men amongst them, to hearken to any proposals of peace. among others that douglas, sitting on his horse, and preaching to the confused multitude, told them that they would come to terms with them, and like a drone was always droning on these terms with them: 'they would give us a half christ, but we will have a whole christ,' and such like impertinent speeches as these, good enough to feed those that are served with wind and not with the sincere milk of the word of god." law also censures these irritated and extravagant enthusiasts, not only for intending to overthrow the government, but as binding themselves to kill all that would not accede to their opinion, and he gives several instances of such cruelty being exercised by them, not only upon straggling soldiers whom they shot by the way or surprized in their quarters, but upon those who, having once joined them, had fallen away from their principles. being asked why they committed these cruelties in cold blood, they answered, 'they were obliged to do it by their sacred bond.' upon these occasions they practised great cruelties, mangling the bodies of their victims that each man might have his share of the guilt. in these cases the cameronians imagined themselves the direct and inspired executioners of the vengeance of heaven. nor did they lack the usual incentives of enthusiasm. peden and others among them set up a claim to the gift of prophecy, though they seldom foretold any thing to the purpose. they detected witches, had bodily encounters with the enemy of mankind in his own shape, or could discover him as, lurking in the disguise of a raven, he inspired the rhetoric of a quaker's meeting. in some cases, celestial guardians kept guard over their field-meetings. at a conventicle held on the lomond-hills, the rev. mr. blacader was credibly assured, under the hands of four honest men, that at the time the meeting was disturbed by the soldiers, some women who had remained at home, "clearly perceived as the form of a tall man, majestic-like, stand in the air in stately posture with the one leg, as it were, advanced before the other, standing above the people all the time of the soldiers shooting." unluckily this great vision of the guarded mount did not conclude as might have been expected. the divine sentinel left his post too soon, and the troopers fell upon the rear of the audience, plundered and stripped many, and made eighteen prisoners. but we have no delight to dwell either upon the atrocities or absurdities of a people whose ignorance and fanaticism were rendered frantic by persecution. it is enough for our present purpose to observe that the present church of scotland, which comprizes so much sound doctrine and learning, and has produced so many distinguished characters, is the legitimate representative of the indulged clergy of the days of charles ii, settled however upon a comprehensive basis. that after the revolution, it should have succeeded episcopacy as the national religion, was natural and regular, because it possessed all the sense, learning, and moderation fit for such a change, and because among its followers were to be found the only men of property and influence who acknowledged presbytery. but the cameronians continued long as a separate sect, though their preachers were bigoted and ignorant, and their hearers were gleaned out of the lower ranks of the peasantry. their principle, so far as it was intelligible, asserted that paramount species of presbyterian church-government which was established in the year , and they continued to regard the established church as erastian and time-serving, because they prudently remained silent upon certain abstract and delicate topics, where there might be some collision between the absolute liberty asserted by the church and the civil government of the state. the cameronians, on the contrary, disowned all kings and government whatsoever, which should not take the solemn league and covenant; and long retained hopes of re-establishing that great national engagement, a bait which was held out to them by all those who wished to disturb the government during the reign of william and anne, as is evident from the memoirs of ker of kersland, and the negotiations of colonel hooke with the jacobites and disaffected of the year. a party so wild in their principles, so vague and inconsistent in their views, could not subsist long under a free and unlimited toleration. they continued to hold their preachings on the hills, but they lost much of their zeal when they were no longer liable to be disturbed by dragoons, sheriffs, and lieutenants of militia.--the old fable of the traveller's cloak was in time verified, and the fierce sanguinary zealots of the days of claverhouse sunk into such quiet and peaceable enthusiasts as howie of lochgoin, or old mortality himself. it is, therefore, upon a race of sectaries who have long ceased to exist, that mr. jedediah cleishbotham has charged all that is odious, and almost all that is ridiculous, in his fictitious narrative; and we can no more suppose any moderate presbyterian involved in the satire, than we should imagine that the character of hampden stood committed by a little raillery on the person of ludovic claxton, the muggletonian. if, however, there remain any of those sectaries who, confining the beams of the gospel to the goshen of their own obscure synagogue, and with james mitchell, the intended assassin, giving their sweeping testimony against prelacy and popery, the whole duty of man and bordles, promiscuous dancing and the common prayer-book, and all the other enormities and backslidings of the time, may perhaps be offended at this idle tale, we are afraid they will receive their answer in the tone of the revellers to malvolio, who, it will be remembered, was something a kind of puritan: "doest thou think because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?--aye, by saint anne, and ginger will be hot in the mouth too." on leigh hunt [from _the quarterly review_, january, ] _the story of rimini, a poem_. by leigh hunt. fc. vo. pp. . london, . a considerable part of this poem was written in newgate, where the author was some time confined, we believe for a libel which appeared in a newspaper, of which he is said to be the conductor. such an introduction is not calculated to make a very favourable impression. fortunately, however, we are as little prejudiced as possible on this subject: we have never seen mr. hunt's newspaper; we have never heard any particulars of his offence; nor should we have known that he had been imprisoned but for his own confession. we have not, indeed, ever read one line that he has written, and are alike remote from the knowledge of his errors or the influence of his private character. we are to judge him solely from the work now before us; and our criticism would be worse than uncandid if it were swayed by any other consideration. the poem is not destitute of merit; but--and this, we confess, was our main inducement to notice it--it is written on certain pretended _principles_, and put forth as a pattern for imitation, with a degree of arrogance which imposes on us the duty of making some observations on this new theory, which mr. leigh hunt, with the weight and authority of his venerable name, has issued, ex cathedra, as the canons of poetry and criticism. these canons mr. hunt endeavours to explain and establish in a long preface, written in a style which, though mr. hunt implies that it is meant to be perfectly natural and unaffected, appears to us the most strange, laboured, uncouth, and unintelligible species of prose that we ever read, only indeed to be exceeded in these qualities by some of the subsequent verses; and both the prose and the verse are the first eruptions of this disease with which mr. leigh hunt insists upon inoculating mankind. mr. hunt's _first_ canon is that there should be a _great freedom_ _of versification_--this is a proposition to which we should have readily assented; but when mr. hunt goes on to say that by _freedom of versification_ he means something which neither pope nor johnson possessed, and of which even "they knew less than any poets perhaps who ever wrote," we check our confidence; and, after a little consideration, find that by freedom mr. hunt means only an inaccurate, negligent, and harsh style of versification, which our early poets fell into from want of polish, and such poets as mr. hunt still practise from want of ease, of expression, and of taste. "_license_ he means, when he cries _liberty_." mr. hunt tells us that dryden, spenser and ariosto, shakespeare and chaucer (so he arranges them), are the greatest masters of _modern_ versification; but he, in the next few sentences, leads us to suspect that he really does not think much more reverently of these great names than of pope and of johnson; and that, if the whole truth were told, he is decidedly of opinion that the only good master of versification, in modern times, is--mr. leigh hunt. dryden, mr. hunt thinks, is apt to be _artificial_ in his style; or, in other words, he has improved the harmony of our language from the rudeness of chaucer, whom mr. hunt (in a sentence which is not grammar, p. xv) says that dryden (though he spoke of and borrowed from him) neither relished nor understood. spenser, he admits, was musical from pure taste, but milton was only, as he elegantly expresses it, "_learnedly_ so." being _learned in music_, is intelligible, and, of milton, true; but what can mr. hunt mean by saying that milton had "_learnedly_ a _musical ear_"? "ariosto's fine ear and _animal spirits_ gave a _frank_ and exquisite tone to all he said"--what does this mean?-- a fine ear may, perhaps, be said to _give_, as it contributes to, an exquisite tone; but what have _animal spirits_ to do here? and what, in the matter of _tones_ and _sounds_, is the effect of _frankness_? we shrewdly suspect that mr. hunt, with all his affectation of italian literature, knows very little of ariosto; it is clear that he knows nothing of tasso. of shakespeare he tells us, "that his versification escapes us because he _over-informed_ it with knowledge and sentiment," by which it appears (as well, indeed, as by his own verses), that this new stagyrite thinks that good versification runs a risk of being spoiled by having _too much meaning_ included in its lines. to wind up the whole of this admirable, precise, and useful criticism by a recapitulation as useful and precise, he says, "all these are about as different from pope as the church organ is from the bell in the steeple, or, to give him a more decorous comparison, the song of the nightingale from that of the cuckoo."--p. xv. now we own that what there is so _indecorous_ in the first comparison, or so especially _decorous_ in the second, we cannot discover; neither can we make out whether pope is the organ or the bell--the nightingale or the cuckoo; we suppose that mr. hunt knows that pope was called by his contemporaries the _nightingale_, but we never heard milton and dryden called _cuckoos_; or, if the comparison is to be taken the other way, we apprehend that, though chaucer may be to mr. hunt's ears a _church organ_, pope cannot, to any ear, sound like the _church bell_. but all this theory, absurd and ignorant as it is, is really nothing to the practice of which it effects to be the defence. hear the warblings of mr. hunt's nightingales. a horseman is described-- the patting hand, that best persuades the check, _and makes the quarrel up with a proud neck_, the thigh broad pressed, the spanning palm _upon it_, and the jerked feather _swaling_ in the _bonnet_.--p. . knights wear ladies' favours-- some tied about their arm, some at the breast, _some, with a drag, dangling from the cap's crest_.--p. . paulo pays his compliments to the destined bride of his brother-- and paid them with an air so frank and bright, as to a friend _appreciated at sight_; that air, in short, which sets you at your ease, without _implying_ your perplexities, that _what with the surprize in every way_, the hurry of the time, the appointed day,-- she knew _not how to object_ in her confusion.--p. . the meeting of the brothers, on which the catastrophe turns, is excellent: the politeness with which the challenge is given would have delighted the heart of old caranza. may i request, sir, said the prince, and frowned, your ear a moment in the tilting ground? _there_, brother? answered paulo with an _air_ surprized and _shocked_. yes, _brother_, cried he, _there_. the word smote _crushingly_.--p. . before the duel, the following spirited explanation takes place: the prince spoke low, and said: before _you answer what you can_, i wish to tell you, _as a gentleman_, that what you may confess-- will implicate no person known to you, more than disquiet in _its_ sleep may do.--p. . paulo falls--and the event is announced in these exquisite lines: her _aged_ nurse-- who, shaking her _old_ head, and pressing close her withered _lips_ to _keep the tears_ that rose--p. . "by the way," does mr. leigh hunt suppose that the aged nurses of rimini weep with their mouths? or does he mistake crying for drivelling?--in fact, the young lady herself seems to have adopted the same mode of weeping: with that, a _keen_ and _quivering glance of_ tears scarce moves her _patient mouth_, and disappears. but to the nurse.--she introduces the messenger of death to the princess, who communicates his story, in pursuance of her command-- something, i'm sure, has happened--tell me what-- i can bear all, though _you may fancy not_. madam, replied the squire, you are, i know, all sweetness--_pardon me for saying so_. my master bade _me_ say then, resumed _he_, that _he_ spoke firmly, when he told it _me_,-- that i was also, madam, to your ear firmly to speak, and you firmly to hear,-- that he was forced this day, _whether or no_, to combat with the prince;--'--p. . the _second_ of mr. hunt's new principles he thus announces: with the endeavour to recur to a freer spirit of versification, i have joined one of still greater importance--that of having a _free and idiomatic_ cast of language. there is a cant of art as well as of nature, though the former is not so unpleasant as the latter, which affects non-affectation.--(what does all this mean?)--but the proper _language of poetry_ is in fact nothing different from that of real life, and depends for its dignity upon the strength and sentiment of what it speaks. it is only adding _musical modulation_ to what a _fine understanding_ might actually utter in the midst of its griefs or enjoyments. the poet therefore should do as chaucer or shakespeare did,--not copy what is obsolete or peculiar in either, any more than they copied from their predecessors,--but use as much as possible an _actual, existing language,_--omitting of course _mere vulgarisms_ and _fugitive phrases_, which are the cant of ordinary discourse, just as tragedy phrases, _dead idioms,_ and exaggerations of dignity, are of the artificial style, and yeas, verilys, and exaggerations of simplicity, are of the natural.--p. xvi. this passage, compared with the verses to which it preludes, affords a more extraordinary instance of self-delusion than even mr. hunt's notion of the merit of his versification; for if there be one fault more eminently conspicuous and ridiculous in mr. hunt's work than another, it is,--that it is full of _mere vulgarisms_ and _fugitive phrases_, and that in every page the language is--not only not _the actual, existing language_, but an ungrammatical, unauthorised, chaotic jargon, such as we believe was never before spoken, much less written. in what vernacular tongue, for instance, does mr. hunt find a lady's waist called _clipsome_ (p. )--or the shout of a mob "enormous" (p. )--or a fit, _lightsome_;--or that a hero's nose is "_lightsomely_ brought down from a forehead of clear-spirited thought" (p. )--or that his back "drops" _lightsomely in_ (p. ). where has he heard of a _quoit-like drop_--of _swaling_ a jerked feather--of _unbedinned_ music (p. )--of the death of _leaping_ accents (p. )--of the _thick reckoning_ of a hoof (p. )--of a _pin-drop_ silence (p. )--a _readable_ look (p. )--a _half indifferent wonderment_ (p. )--or of _boy-storied_ trees and _passion-plighted_ spots,--p. . of ships coming up with _scattery_ light,--p. . or of self-knowledge being _cored_, after all, in our complacencies?--p. . we shall now produce a few instances of what "_a fine understanding might utter_," with "the addition of _musical modulation_," and of the _dignity_ and _strength_ of mr. hunt's sentiments and expressions. a crowd, which divided itself into groups, is-- --the multitude, who _got_ in clumps----p. . the impression made on these "clumps" by the sight of the princess, is thus "musically" described: there's not in all that croud one _gallant_ being, whom, if his heart were whole, and _rank agreeing_, it would not _fire to twice of what he is_,--p. . "dignity and strength"-- first came the trumpeters-- and as they _sit along_ their easy way, stately and _heaving_ to the croud below.--p. . this word is deservedly a great favourite with the poet; he _heaves_ it in upon all occasions. the deep talk _heaves_.--p. . with _heav'd_ out tapestry the windows glow.--p. . then _heave_ the croud.--_id_. and after a rude _heave_ from side to side.--p. . the marble bridge comes _heaving_ forth below.--p. . "fine understanding"-- the youth smiles _up_, and with a _lowly_ grace, _bending_ his _lifted_ eyes--p. . this is very neat: no peevishness there was-- but a _mute_ gush of _hiding_ tears from one, clasped to the _core_ of him who yet shed none.--p. . the heroine is suspected of wishing to have some share in the choice of her own husband, which is thus elegantly expressed: she had stout notions on the marrying _score_.--p. . this noble use of the word _score_ is afterwards carefully repeated in speaking of the prince, her husband-- --no suspicion could have touched him more, than that of _wanting_ on the generous _score_.--p. . but though thus punctilious on the _generous score_, his highness had but a bad temper, and kept no reckoning with his _sweets and sours_.--p. . this, indeed, is somewhat qualified by a previous observation, that-- _the worst of prince giovanni_, as his bride too quickly found, was an ill-tempered pride. how nobly does mr. hunt celebrate the combined charms of the fair sex, and the country! _the two divinest things this world_ has got, a lovely woman in a rural spot!--p. . a rural spot, indeed, seems to inspire mr. hunt with peculiar elegance and sweetness: for he says, soon after, of prince paulo-- for welcome grace, there rode not such another, nor yet for strength, except his lordly brother. was there a court day, or a sparkling feast, or better still--_to my ideas, at least!_-- a summer party in the green wood shade.--p. . so much for this new invented _strength_ and _dignity_: we shall add a specimen of his syntax: but fears like these he never entertain'd, and had they crossed him, would have been disdain'd.--p. . * * * * * after these extracts, we have but one word more to say of mr. hunt's poetry; which is, that amidst all his vanity, vulgarity, ignorance, and coarseness, there are here and there some well-executed descriptions, and occasionally a line of which the sense and the expression are good-- the interest of the story itself is so great that we do not think it wholly lost even in mr. hunt's hands. he has, at least, the merit of telling it with decency; and, bating the qualities of versification, expression, and dignity, on which he peculiarly piques himself, and in which he has utterly failed, the poem is one which, in our opinion at least, may be read with satisfaction after galt's tragedies. mr. hunt prefixes to his work a dedication to lord byron, in which he assumes a high tone, and talks big of his "_fellow-dignity_" and independence: what fellow-dignity may mean, we know not; perhaps the _dignity_ of a _fellow_; but this we will say, that mr. hunt is not more unlucky in his pompous pretension to versification and good language, than he is in that which he makes, in this dedication, to _proper spirit_, as he calls it, and _fellow-dignity_; for we never, in so few lines, saw so many clear marks of the vulgar impatience of a low man, conscious and ashamed of his wretched vanity, and labouring, with coarse flippancy, to scramble over the bounds of birth and education, and fidget himself into the _stout-heartedness_ of being familiar with a lord. of shakespeare [from _the quarterly review_, october, ] _shakespeare's himself again! or the language of the poet asserted; being a full and dispassionate examen of the readings and interpretations of the several editors. comprised in a series of notes, sixteen hundred in number, illustrative of the most difficult passages in his plays_--_to the various editions of which the present volumes form a complete and necessary supplement_. by andrew becket. vols. vo. pp. . . if the dead could be supposed to take any interest in the integrity of their literary reputation, with what complacency might we not imagine our great poet to contemplate the labours of the present writer! two centuries have passed away since his death--the mind almost sinks under the reflection that he has been all that while exhibited to us so "transmographied" by the joint ignorance and malice of printers, critics, etc., as to be wholly unlike himself. but--_post nubila, phoebus!_ mr. andrew becket has at length risen upon the world, and shakespeare is about to shine forth in genuine and unclouded glory! what we have at present is a mere scantling of the great work _in procinctu_--[greek: _pidakos ex ieraes oligaelizas_]--sixteen hundred "restorations," and no more! but if these shall be favourably received, a complete edition of the poet will speedily follow. mr. becket has taken him to develop; and it is truly surprizing to behold how beautiful he comes forth as the editor proceeds in unrolling those unseemly and unnatural rags in which he has hitherto been so disgracefully wrapped: tandem aperit vultum, et tectoria prima reponit,-- incipit agnosci!-- mr. becket has favoured us, in the preface, with a comparative estimate of the merits of his predecessors. he does not, as may easily be conjectured, rate any of them very highly; but he places warburton at the top of the scale, and steevens at the bottom: this, indeed, was to be expected. "warburton," he says, "is the _best_, and steevens the _worst_ of shakespeare's commentators"; (p. xvii) and he ascribes it solely to his forbearance that the latter is not absolutely crushed: it not being in his nature, as he magnanimously insinuates, "to break a butterfly upon a wheel!" dr. johnson is shoved aside with very little ceremony; mr. malone fares somewhat better; and the rest are dismissed with the gentle valediction of pandarus to the trojans--"asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran! porridge after meat!" with respect to our author himself, it is but simple justice to declare, that he comes to the great work of "restoring shakespeare"--not only with more negative advantages than the unfortunate tribe of critics so cavalierly dismissed, but than all who have aspired to illumine the page of a defunct writer since the days of aristarchus. as far as we are enabled to judge, mr. becket never examined an old play in his life:--he does not seem to have the slightest knowledge of any writer, or any subject, or any language that ever occupied the attention of his contemporaries; and he possesses a mind as innocent of all requisite information as if he had dropped, with the last thunderstone, from the moon. "addison has well observed, that 'in works of criticism it is absolutely necessary to have a _clear and logical head_.'" (p.v.) in this position, mr. becket cheerfully agrees with him; and, indeed, it is sufficiently manifest, that without the internal conviction of enjoying that indispensable advantage, he would not have favoured the public with those matchless "restorations"; a few specimens of which we now proceed to lay before them. where all are alike admirable, there is no call for selection; we shall therefore open the volumes at random, and trust to fortune. "_hamlet_. for who would bear the whips and scorns of time?" this reading, mr. becket says, he cannot admit; and he says well: since it appears that shakespeare wrote-- "for who would bear the _scores_ of _weapon'd_ time?" using _scores_ in the sense of stripes. formerly, _i.e.,_ when becket was _in his sallad days_, he augured, he says, that the true reading was-- --"the scores of _whip-hand_ time." time having always the _whip-hand,_ the advantage; but he now reverts to the other emendation; though, as he modestly hints, the epithet _whip-hand_ (which he still regards with parental fondness) will perhaps be thought to have much of the manner of shakespeare.--vol. i, p. . "_horatio_.--while they, distill'd almost to jelly with the act of fear, stand dumb, and speak not to him!" we had been accustomed to find no great difficulty here: the words seemed, to us, at least, to express the usual effect of inordinate terror--but we gladly acknowledge our mistake. "the passage is not to be understood." how should it, when both the pointing and the language are corrupt? read, as shakespeare gave it-- --"while they _bestill'd_ almost to _gelèe_ with the act. of fear stand dumb," &c.--that is, petrified (or rather icefied) p. . "_lear_. and my poor fool is hang'd!" with these homely words, which burst from the poor old king on reverting to the fate of his loved cordelia, whom he then holds in his arms, we have been always deeply affected, and therefore set them down as one of the thousand proofs of the poet's intimate knowledge of the human heart. but mr. becket has made us ashamed of our simplicity and our tears. shakespeare had no such "lenten" language in his thoughts; he wrote, as mr. becket tells us, "and my _pure soot_ is hang'd!" poor, he adds, might be easily mistaken for _pure_; while the _s_ in _soot_ (sweet) was scarcely discernible from the _f_, or the _t_ from the _l_.--p. . we are happy to find that so much can be offered in favour of the old printers. and yet--were it not that the genuine text is always to be preferred--we could almost wish that the critic had left their blunder as it stood. "_wolsey_.--that his bones may have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them." a tomb of tears is ridiculous. i read--a _coomb_ of tears--a _coomb_ is a liquid measure containing forty gallons. thus the expression, which was before absurd, becomes forcible and just.--vol. ii, p. . it does indeed! "_sir andrew_. i sent thee six-pence for thy leman (mistress): had'st it?" read as shakespeare wrote: "i sent thee sixpence for thy _lemma_"--_lemma_ is properly an _argument_, or _proposition assumed_, and is used by sir andrew aguecheek for a story.--p. . "_viola_. she pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy."--correct it thus: "she pined in thought and with _agrein_ and _hollow_ melancholy."--p. . "_iago_. i have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense, and he grows angry"-- that is, or rather _was_, according to our homely apprehension, i have rubb'd this pimple (roderigo) almost to bleeding:--but, no; mr. becket has furnished us not only with the genuine words, but the meaning of shakespeare-- i have _fubb'd_ this young _quat_--_quat_, or cat, appears to be a contraction of cater-cousin--and this reading will be greatly strengthened when it is remembered that roderigo was really the intimate of iago.--p. . in a subsequent passage, "i am as melancholy as a gibb'd cat"--we are told that _cat_ is not the domestic animal of that name, but a contraction of _catin_, a woman of the town. but, indeed, mr. becket possesses a most wonderful faculty for detecting these latent contractions and filling them up. thus, "_parolles_. sir, he will steal an egg out of a cloister." read (as shakespeare wrote), "sir, he will steal an _ag_ (i.e., an _agnes_) out of a cloister." _agnes_ is the name of a woman, and may easily stand for chastity.--p. . no doubt. "_carter_. prithee, tom, put a few flocks in cut's saddle; the poor beast is wrung in the withers out of all cess." out of all cess, we used to think meant, in vulgar phraseology, out of all measure, very much, &c.--but see how foolishly! _cess_ is a mere contraction of _cessibility_, which signifies the _quality of receding_, and may very well stand for _yielding_, as spoken of a tumour.--p. . "_hamlet_. a cry of players." this we once thought merely a sportive expression for a _company of_ players, but mr. becket has undeceived us--"_cry_ (he tells us) is contracted from _cryptic_, and cryptic is precisely of the same import as mystery."--p. . how delightful it is when learning and judgment walk thus hand in hand! but enough-- --"the sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness"-- and we would not willingly cloy our readers. sufficient has been produced to encourage them--not perhaps to contend for the possession of the present volumes, though mr. becket conscientiously affirms, in his title-page, that "they form a complete and _necessary_ supplement to every former edition"--but, with us, to look anxiously forward to the great work in preparation. meanwhile we have gathered some little consolation from what is already in our hands. very often, on comparing the dramas of the present day (not even excepting mr. tobin's) with those of elizabeth's age, we have been tempted to think that we were born too late, and to exclaim with the poet-- "infelix ego, non illo qui tempore natus, quo facilis natura fuit; sors o mea laeva nascendi, miserumque genus!" &c. but we now see that unless mr. andrew becket had also been produced at that early period, we should have derived no extraordinary degree of satisfaction from witnessing the first appearance of shakespeare's plays, since it is quite clear that we could not have understood them. one difficulty yet remains. we scarcely think that the managers will have the confidence, in future, to play shakespeare as they have been accustomed to do; and yet, to present him, as now so happily "restored," would, for some time at least, render him _caviare to the general_. we know that livius andronicus, when grown hoarse with repeated declamation, was allowed a second rate actor, who stood at his back and spoke while he gesticulated, or gesticulated while he spoke. a hint may be borrowed from this fact. we therefore propose that mr. andrew becket be forthwith taken into the pay of the two theatres, and divided between them. he may then be instructed to follow the _dramatis personae_ of our great poet's plays on the stage, and after each of them has made his speech in the present corrupt reading, to pronounce aloud the words as "restored" by himself. this may have an awkward effect at first; but a season or two will reconcile the town to it; shakespeare may then be presented in his genuine language, or, as our author better expresses it, be himself again. on moxon's sonnets [from _the quarterly review_, july, ] _sonnets by_ edward moxon. second edition. london, . this is quite a _dandy_ of a book. some seventy pages of drawing-paper-- fifty-five of which are impressed each with a single sonnet in all the luxury of type, while the rest are decked out with vignettes of nymphs in clouds and bowers, and cupids in rose-bushes and cockle-shells. and all these coxcombries are the appendages of, as it seems to us, as little intellect as the rings and brooches of the exquisite in a modern novel. we shall see presently, by what good fortune so moderate a poet has found so liberal a publisher. we are no great admirers of the sonnet at its best--concurring in dr. johnson's opinion that it does not suit the genius of our language, and that the great examples of shakespeare and milton have failed to domesticate it with us. it seems to be, even in master hands, that species of composition which is at once the most artificial and the least effective, which bears the appearance of the greatest labour and produces the least pleasure. its peculiar and unvaried construction must inevitably inflict upon it something of pedantry and monotony, and although some powerful minds have used it as a form for condensing and elaborating a particular train of thought--_an iliad in a nutshell_--yet the vast majority of sonneteers employ it as an economical expedient, by which one idea can be expanded into fourteen lines--fourteen lines into one page--and, as we see, fifty-four pages into a costly volume. the complex construction, which at first sight seems a difficulty, is, in fact, like all mechanism, a great saving of labour to the operator. a sonnet almost makes itself, as a musical snuff-box plays a tune, or rather as a cotton _jenny_ spins twist. when a would-be poet has collected in his memory a few of what may have struck him as poetical ideas, he puts them into his machine, and after fourteen turns, out comes a sonnet, or--if it be his pleasure to spin out his reminiscences very fine--a dozen sonnets. mr. moxon inscribes as a motto on his title-page four lines of mr. wordsworth's vindication of his own use of the sonnet-form-- in truth, the prison, into which we doom ourselves, no prison is: and hence to _me_, in sundry moods 'twas pastime to be bound within the _sonnet's_ scanty plot of ground. yes, mr. moxon, to _him_ perhaps, but not to every one--the "plot of ground" which is "_scanty_" to an elephant is a wilderness to a mouse; and the garment in which wordsworth might feel straitened hangs flabby about a puny imitator. there seems no great modesty in the estimate which mr. moxon thus exhibits of his own superior powers, but we fear there is, at least, as much modesty as truth--for really, so far from being "_bound_" within the narrow limit of the sonnet, it seems to us to be --a world too wide for his shrunk shank. ordinary sonneteers, as we have said, will spin a single thought through the fourteen lines. mr., moxon will draw you out a single thought into fourteen sonnets:--and these are his best--for most of the others appear to us mere soap bubbles, very gay and gaudy, but which burst at the fourteenth line and leave not the trace of an idea behind. of two or three mr. moxon has kindly told us the meaning, which, without that notice, we confess we should never have guessed. * * * * * another of the same genus--though, he had just told us my love i can _compare_ with _nought_ on earth-- is like _nought on earth_ we ever read but dean swift's song of similes. i _will prove_, he says, that a swan-- a fawn-- an artless lamb-- a hawthorn tree-- a willow-- a laburnum-- a dream-- a rainbow-- diana-- aurora-- a dove that _singeth_-- a lily,--and finally, venus herself! --i in truth will prove these are not _half_ so _fair_ as she i love. _sonnet_ iii, p. . such heterogeneous compliments remind us of shacabac's gallantry to _beda_ in _blue beard:_ "ah, you little rogue, you have a prettier mouth _than an elephant_, and you know it!"--a _fawn-coloured_ countenance rivalling in _fairness a laburnum_ blossom, seems to us a more dubious type of female beauty than even an elephant's mouth. _love_, it may be said, has carried away better poets and graver men than mr. moxon seems to be, into such namby-pamby nonsense; but mr. moxon is just as absurd in his _grief_ or his _musings_, as in his _love_. when he hears a nightingale--"sad philomel!"--he concludes that the bird was originally created for no other purpose than to prophesy in paradise _the fall of man_, or, as he chooses to collocate the words, _prophetic_ to have mourned of _man_ the _fall_,--p. . but he does not tell us what she has been doing ever since. when he sees two cumberland streams--the brathay and rothay--flowing down, first to a confluence, and afterwards to the sea, he fancies "a _soul-knit_ pair," man and wife, mingling their waters and gliding to their final haven-- in kindred love, the haven contemplation sees _above_! _below_, he would--following his allegory--have said; but rhyme forbade-- and _allegories_ are not _so headstrong_ on the banks of the brathay as on those of the _nile_. a sonnet on thomson's grave is a fine specimen of empty sounds and solid nonsense:-- whene'er i linger, thomson, near thy tomb, where _thamis_-- "_classic cam_" will be somewhat amazed to hear his learned brother called _thamis_-- where thamis urges his majestic way, and the muse loves at twilight hour to stray, i think how in thy theme all _seasons_ bloom;-- what, all four?--_autumn_, nay, _winter_--blooming? what _heart_ so cold that of thy fame has _heard_, and _pauses_ not to _gaze_ upon each scene. we are inclined to be very indulgent to what is called a confusion of metaphors, when it arises from a rush of ideas--but when it is produced by an author's having no idea at all, we can hardly forgive him for equipping the _heart_ with eyes, ears, and legs:--he might just as well have said that on entering twickenham church to visit the tomb, every _heart_ would take off _its hat_, and on going out again would put _its hand_ in _its pockets_ to fee the sexton. and pauses not to gaze upon each scene that was familiar to thy raptured view, those walks beloved by thee while i pursue, musing upon the years that intervene-- why this line _intervenes_ or what it means we do not see--it seems inserted just to make up the number-- methinks, as eve descends, a hymn of praise to thee, their bard, the _sister seasons_ raise! that is, as we understand it, all the _seasons meet together_ on one or more evenings of the year, to sing a hymn to the memory of thompson. this _simultaneous entree_ of the four seasons would be a much more appropriate fancy for the opera stage than for twickenham meadows. such are the tame extravagances--the vapid affectations--the unmeaning mosaic which mr. moxon has laboriously tesselated into fifty and four sonnets. if he had been--as all this childishness at first led us to believe--a very young man--we should have discussed the matter with him in a more conciliatory and persuasive tone; but we find that he is, what we must call, an old offender. we have before us two little volumes of what he entitles poetry--one dated , and the other --which, though more laughable, are not in substance more absurd than his new production. from the first of these we shall extract two or three stanzas of the introductory poem, not only on account of their intrinsic merit, but because they state, pretty roundly, mr. moxon's principles of poetry. he modestly disclaims all rivalry with pope, byron, moore, campbell, scott, rogers, goldsmith, dryden, gray, spenser, milton, and shakespeare; but he, at the same time, intimates that he follows, what he thinks, a truer line of poetry than the before-named illustrious, but, in this point, _mistaken_ individuals. 'tis not a poem with learning fraught, to that i ne'er pretended; nor yet with pope's fine touches wrought, _from that my time prevented_. we skip four intermediate stanzas; then comes milton divine and great shakespeare with reverence i mention; my name with theirs shall ne'er appear, _'tis far from my intention!_ if poetry, as one _pretends, be all imagination!_ why then, at once, _my bardship ends-- 'mong prose i take my station._ _moxon's poems, p. , ed. ._ but as _"common sense"_ must see, says mr. moxon, that _imagination_ can have nothing to do with _poetry_, he engages to pursue his tuneful vocation, subject to _one_ condition-- you'll hear no more from me, if _critics prove unkind;_ my next _in simple prose_ must be, _unless i favour find!_ we regret that some _kind_--or, as mr. moxon would have thought it, _unkind_--critic, did not, on the appearance of this first volume, confirm his own misgivings that he had been all this time, like the man in the farce, talking not only _prose_, but _nonsense_ into the bargain: this disagreeable information the pretension of his recent publication obliges us to convey to him. the fact is, that the volume at first struck us with serious alarm. its typographical splendour led us to fear that this style of writing was getting into fashion; and the hints about _"classic cam"_ seemed to impute the production to one of our universities: on turning, with some curiosity, to the title-page, for the name of the too indulgent bookseller who had bestowed such unmerited embellishment on a work which we think of so little value--_we found none_; and on further inquiry learned that _dover street, piccadilly_, and not the banks of _"classic cam"_ is the seat of this sonneteering muse--in short, that mr. moxon, the bookseller, is his own poet, and that mr. moxon, the poet, is his own bookseller. this discovery at once calmed both our anxieties--it relieved the university of cambridge from an awful responsibility, which might have called down upon it the vengeance of lord radnor; and it accounted--without any imputation on the public taste--for the extraordinary care and cost with which the paternal solicitude of the poet-publisher had adorned his own volume. mr. moxon seems to be--like most sonneteers--a man of amiable disposition, and to have an ear--as he certainly has a _memory_--for poetry; and--if he had not been an old hand--we should not have presumed to say that he is incapable of anything better than this tumid commonplace. but, however that may be, we do earnestly exhort him to abandon the self-deluding practice of being his own publisher. whatever may have been said in disparagement of the literary taste of the booksellers, it will at least be admitted that their experience of public opinion and a due attention to their own pecuniary interest, enable them to operate as a salutary check upon the blind and presumptive vanity of small authors. the necessity of obtaining the _"imprimatur"_ of a publisher is a very wholesome restraint, from which mr. moxon--unluckily for himself and for us--found himself relieved. if he could have looked at his own work with the impartiality, and perhaps the good taste, that he would have exercised on that of a stranger, _he_ would have saved himself a good deal of expense and vexation--and _we_ should have been spared the painful necessity of contrasting the ambitious pretensions of his volume with its very moderate literary merit. on "vanity fair" and "jane eyre" [from _the quarterly review_, december, ] . _vanity fair; a novel without a hero._ by william makepeace thackeray. london, . . _jane eyre; an autobiography._ edited by currer bell. in vols. london. . a remarkable novel is a great event for english society. it is a kind of common friend, about whom people can speak the truth without fear of being compromised, and confess their emotions without being ashamed. we are a particularly shy and reserved people, and set about nothing so awkwardly as the simple art of getting really acquainted with each other. we meet over and over again in what is conventionally called "easy society," with the tacit understanding to go so far and no farther; to be as polite as we ought to be, and as intellectual as we can; but mutually and honourably to forbear lifting those veils which each spreads over his inner sentiments and sympathies. for this purpose a host of devices have been contrived by which all the forms of friendship may be gone through, without committing ourselves to one spark of the spirit. we fly with eagerness to some common ground in which each can take the liveliest interest, without taking the slightest in the world in his companion. our various fashionable manias, for charity one season, for science the next, are only so many clever contrivances for keeping our neighbour at arm's length. we can attend committees, and canvass for subscribers, and archaeologise, and geologise, and take ether with our fellow christians for a twelvemonth, as we might sit cross-legged and smoke the pipe of fraternity with a turk for the same period--and know at the end of the time as little of the real feelings of the one as we should about the domestic relations of the other. but there are ways and means for lifting the veil which equally favour our national idiosyncrasy; and a new and remarkable novel is one of them--especially the nearer it comes to real life. we invite our neighbour to a walk with the deliberate and malicious object of getting thoroughly acquainted with him. we ask no impertinent questions-- we proffer no indiscreet confidences--we do not even sound him, ever so delicately, as to his opinion of a common friend, for he would be sure not to say, lest we should go and tell; but we simply discuss becky sharp, or jane eyre, and our object is answered at once. there is something about these two new and noticeable characters which especially compels everybody to speak out. they are not to be dismissed with a few commonplace moralities and sentimentalities. they do not fit any ready-made criticism. they give the most stupid something to think of, and the most reserved something to say; the most charitable too are betrayed into home comparisons which they usually condemn, and the most ingenious stumble into paradoxes which they can hardly defend. becky and jane also stand well side by side both in their analogies and their contrasts. both the ladies are governesses, and both make the same move in society; the one, in jane eyre phraseology, marrying her "master," and the other her master's son. neither starts in life with more than a moderate capital of good looks--jane eyre with hardly that--for it is the fashion now-a-days with novelists to give no encouragement to the insolence of mere beauty, but rather to prove to all whom it may concern how little a sensible woman requires to get on with in the world. both have also an elfish kind of nature, with which they divine the secrets of other hearts, and conceal those of their own; and both rejoice in that peculiarity of feature which mademoiselle de luzy has not contributed to render popular, viz., green eyes. beyond this, however, there is no similarity either in the minds, manners, or fortunes of the two heroines. they think and act upon diametrically opposite principles-- at least so the author of "jane eyre" intends us to believe--and each, were they to meet, which we should of all things enjoy to see them do, would cordially despise and abominate the other. which of the two, however, would most successfully _dupe_ the other is a different question, and one not so easy to decide; though we have our own ideas upon the subject. we must discuss "vanity fair" first, which, much as we were entitled to expect from its author's pen, has fairly taken us by surprise. we were perfectly aware that mr. thackeray had of old assumed the jester's habit, in order the more unrestrainedly to indulge the privilege of speaking the truth;--we had traced his clever progress through "fraser's magazine" and the ever-improving pages of "punch"--which wonder of the time has been infinitely obliged to him--but still we were little prepared for the keen observation, the deep wisdom, and the consummate art which he has interwoven in the slight texture and whimsical pattern of "vanity fair." everybody, it is to be supposed, has read the volume by this time; and even for those who have not, it is not necessary to describe the order of the story. it is not a novel, in the common acceptation of the word, with a plot purposely contrived to bring about certain scenes, and develop certain characters, but simply a history of those average sufferings, pleasures, penalties, and rewards to which various classes of mankind gravitate as naturally and certainly in this world as the sparks fly upward. it is only the same game of life which every player sooner or later makes for himself--were he to have a hundred chances, and shuffle the cards of circumstance every time. it is only the same busy, involved drama which may be seen at any time by any one, who is not engrossed with the magnified minutiae of his own petty part, but with composed curiosity looks on to the stage where his fellow-men and women are the actors; and that not even heightened by the conventional colouring which madame de staël philosophically declares that fiction always wants in order to make up for its not being truth. indeed, so far from taking any advantage of this novelist's licence, mr. thackeray has hardly availed himself of the natural average of remarkable events that really do occur in this life. the battle of waterloo, it is true, is introduced; but, as far as regards the story, it brings about only one death and one bankruptcy, which might either of them have happened in a hundred other ways. otherwise the tale runs on, with little exception, in that humdrum course of daily monotony, out of which some people coin materials to act, and others excuses to doze, just as their dispositions may be. it is this reality which is at once the charm and the misery here. with all these unpretending materials it is one of the most amusing, but also one of the most distressing books we have read for many a long year. we almost long for a little exaggeration and improbability to relieve us of that sense of dead truthfulness which weighs down our hearts, not for the amelias and georges of the story, but for poor kindred human nature. in one light this truthfulness is even an objection. with few exceptions the personages are too like our every-day selves and neighbours to draw any distinct moral from. we cannot see our way clearly. palliations of the bad and disappointments in the good are perpetually obstructing our judgment, by bringing what should decide it too close to that common standard of experience in which our only rule of opinion is charity. for it is only in fictitious characters which are highly coloured for one definite object, or in notorious personages viewed from a distance, that the course of the true moral can be seen to run straight--once bring the individual with his life and circumstances closely before you, and it is lost to the mental eye in the thousand pleas and witnesses, unseen and unheard before, which rise up to overshadow it. and what are all these personages in "vanity fair" but feigned names for our own beloved friends and acquaintances, seen under such a puzzling cross-light of good in evil, and evil in good, of sins and sinnings against, of little to be praised virtues, and much to be excused vices, that we cannot presume to moralise upon them--not even to judge them,--content to exclaim sorrowfully with the old prophet, "alas! my brother!" every actor on the crowded stage of "vanity fair" represents some type of that perverse mixture of humanity in which there is ever something not wholly to approve or to condemn. there is the desperate devotion of a fond heart to a false object, which we cannot respect; there is the vain, weak man, half good and half bad, who is more despicable in our eyes than the decided villain. there are the irretrievably wretched education, and the unquenchably manly instincts, both contending in the confirmed _roué_, which melt us to the tenderest pity. there is the selfishness and self-will which the possessor of great wealth and fawning relations can hardly avoid. there is the vanity and fear of the world, which assist mysteriously with pious principles in keeping a man respectable; there are combinations of this kind of every imaginable human form and colour, redeemed but feebly by the steady excellence of an awkward man, and the genuine heart of a vulgar woman, till we feel inclined to tax mr. thackeray with an under estimate of our nature, forgetting that madame de staël is right after all, and that without a little conventional rouge no human conplexion can stand the stage-lights of fiction. but if these performers give us pain, we are not ashamed to own, as we are speaking openly, that the chief actress herself gives us none at all. for there is of course a principal pilgrim in vanity fair, as much as in its emblematical original, bunyan's "progress"; only unfortunately this one is travelling the wrong way. and we say "unfortunately" merely by way of courtesy, for in reality we care little about the matter. no, becky--our hearts neither bleed for you, nor cry out against you. you are wonderfully clever, and amusing, and accomplished, and intelligent, and the soho _ateliers_ were not the best nurseries for a moral training; and you were married early in life to a regular blackleg, and you have had to live upon your wits ever since, which is not an improving sort of maintenance; and there is much to be said for and against; but still you are not one of us, and there is an end to our sympathies and censures. people who allow their feelings to be lacerated by such a character and career as yours, are doing both you and themselves great injustice. no author could have openly introduced a near connexion of satan's into the best london society, nor would the moral end intended have been answered by it; but really and honestly, considering becky in her human character, we know of none which so thoroughly satisfies our highest _beau idéal_ of feminine wickedness, with so slight a shock to our feelings and properties. it is very dreadful, doubtless, that becky neither loved the husband who loved her, nor the child of her own flesh and blood, nor indeed any body but herself; but, as far as she is concerned, we cannot pretend to be scandalized--for how could she without a heart? it is very shocking of course that she committed all sorts of dirty tricks, and jockeyed her neighbours, and never cared what she trampled under foot if it happened to obstruct her step; but how could she be expected to do otherwise without a conscience? the poor little woman was most tryingly placed; she came into the world without the customary letters of credit upon those two great bankers of humanity, "heart and conscience," and it was no fault of hers if they dishonoured all her bills. all she could do in this dilemma was to establish the firmest connexion with the inferior commercial branches of "sense and tact," who secretly do much business in the name of the head concern, and with whom her "fine frontal development" gave her unlimited credit. she saw that selfishness was the metal which the stamp of heart was suborned to pass; that hypocrisy was the homage that vice rendered to virtue; that honesty was, at all events, acted, because it was the best policy; and so she practised the arts of selfishness and hypocrisy like anybody else in vanity fair, only with this difference, that she brought them to their highest possible pitch of perfection. for why is it that, looking round in this world, we find plenty of characters to compare with her up to a certain pitch, but none which reach her actual standard? why is it that, speaking of this friend or that, we say in the tender mercies of our hearts, "no, she is not _quite_ so bad as becky?" we fear not only because she has more heart and conscience, but also because she has less cleverness. no; let us give becky her due. there is enough in this world of ours, as we all know, to provoke a saint, far more a poor little devil like her. she had none of those fellow-feelings which make us wondrous kind. she saw people around her cowards in vice, and simpletons in virtue, and she had no patience with either, for she was as little the one as the other herself. she saw women who loved their husbands and yet teazed them, and ruining their children although they doated upon them, and she sneered at their utter inconsistency. wickedness or goodness, unless coupled with strength, were alike worthless to her. that weakness which is the blessed pledge of our humanity, was to her only the despicable badge of our imperfection. she thought, it might be, of her master's words, "fallen cherub! to be weak is to be miserable!" and wondered how we could be such fools as first to sin and then to be sorry. becky's light was defective, but she acted up to it. her goodness goes as far as good temper, and her principles as far as shrewd sense, and we may thank her consistency for showing us what they are both worth. it is another thing to pretend to settle whether such a character be _primâ facie_ impossible, though devotion to the better sex might well demand the assertion. there are mysteries of iniquity, under the semblance of man and woman, read of in history, or met with in the unchronicled sufferings of private life, which would almost make us believe that the powers of darkness occasionally made use of this earth for a foundling hospital, and sent their imps to us, already provided with a return-ticket. we shall not decide on the lawfulness or otherwise of any attempt to depict such importations; we can only rest perfectly satisfied that, granting the author's premises, it is impossible to imagine them carried out with more felicitous skill and more exquisite consistency than in the heroine of "vanity fair." at all events, the infernal regions have no reason to be ashamed of little becky, nor the ladies either: she has, at least, all the cleverness of the sex. the great charm, therefore, and comfort of becky is, that we may study her without any compunctions. the misery of this life is not the evil that we see, but the good and the evil which are so inextricably twisted together. it is that perpetual memento ever meeting one-- how in this vile world below noblest things find vilest using, that is so very distressing to those who have hearts as well as eyes. but becky relieves them of all this pain--at least in her own person. pity would be thrown away upon one who has not heart enough for it to ache even for herself. becky is perfectly happy, as all must be who excel in what they love best. her life is one exertion of successful power. shame never visits her, for "'tis conscience that makes cowards of us all"--and she has none. she realizes that _ne plus ultra_ of sublunary comfort which it was reserved for a frenchman to define--the blessed combination of _"le bon estomac et le mauvais coeur"_: for becky adds to her other good qualities that of an excellent digestion. upon the whole, we are not afraid to own that we rather enjoy her _ignis fatuus_ course, dragging the weak and the vain and the selffish [transcriber's note: sic], through mud and mire, after her, and acting all parts, from the modest rushlight to the gracious star, just as it suits her. clever little imp that she is! what exquisite tact she shows!--what unflagging good humour!--what ready self-possession! becky never disappoints us; she never even makes us tremble. we know that her answer will come exactly suiting her one particular object, and frequently three or four more in prospect. what respect, too, she has for those decencies which more virtuous, but more stupid humanity, often disdains! what detection of all that is false and mean! what instinct for all that is true and great! she is her master's true pupil in that: she knows what is really divine as well as he, and bows before it. she honours dobbin in spite of his big feet; she respects her husband more than ever she did before, perhaps for the first time, at the very moment when he is stripping not only her jewels, but name, honour, and comfort off her. we are not so sure either whether we are justified in calling hers _"le mauvais coeur."_ becky does not pursue any one vindictively; she never does gratuitous mischief. the fountain is more dry than poisoned. she is even generous--when she can afford it. witness that burst of plain speaking in dobbin's favour to the little dolt amelia, for which we forgive her many a sin. 'tis true she wanted to get rid of her; but let that pass. becky was a thrifty dame, and liked to despatch two birds with one stone. and she was honest, too, after a fashion. the part of wife she acts at first as well, and better than most; but as for that of mother, there she fails from the beginning. she knew that maternal love was no business of hers--that a fine frontal development could give her no help there--and puts so little spirit into her imitation that no one could be taken in for a moment. she felt that that bill, of all others, would be sure to be dishonoured, and it went against her conscience--we mean her sense--to send it in. in short, the only respect in which becky's course gives us pain is when it locks itself into that of another, and more genuine child of this earth. no one can regret those being entangled in her nets whose vanity and meanness of spirit alone led them into its meshes--such are rightly served; but we do grudge her that real sacred thing called _love_, even of a rawdon crawley, who has more of that self-forgetting, all-purifying feeling for his little evil spirit than many a better man has for a good woman. we do grudge becky _a heart_, though it belong only to a swindler. poor, sinned against, vile, degraded, but still true-hearted rawdon!--you stand next in our affections and sympathies to honest dobbin himself. it was the instinct of a good nature which made the major feel that the stamp of the evil one was upon becky; and it was the stupidity of a good nature which made the colonel never suspect it. he was a cheat, a black-leg, an unprincipled dog; but still "rawdon _is_ a man, and be hanged to him," as the rector says. we follow him through the illustrations, which are, in many instances, a delightful enhancement to the text--as he stands there, with his gentle eyelid, coarse moustache, and foolish chin, bringing up becky's coffee-cup with a kind of dumb fidelity; or looking down at little rawdon with a more than paternal tenderness. all amelia's philoprogenitive idolatries do not touch us like one fond instinct of "stupid rawdon." dobbin sheds a halo over all the long-necked, loose-jointed, scotch-looking gentlemen of our acquaintance. flat feet and flap ears seem henceforth incompatible with evil. he reminds us of one of the sweetest creations that have appeared from any modern pen--that plain, awkward, loveable "long walter," in lady georgina fullerton's beautiful novel of "grantley manor." like him, too, in his proper self-respect; for dobbin--lumbering, heavy, shy, and absurdly over modest as the ugly fellow is--is yet true to himself. at one time he seems to be sinking into the mere abject dangler after amelia; but he breaks his chains like a man, and resumes them again like a man, too, although half disenchanted of his amiable delusion. but to return for a moment to becky. the only criticism we would offer is one which the author has almost disarmed by making her mother a frenchwoman. the construction of this little clever monster is diabolically french. such a _lusus naturae_ as a woman without a heart and conscience would, in england, be a mere brutal savage, and poison half a village. france is the land for the real syren, with the woman's face and the dragon's claws. the genus of pigeon and laffarge claims it for its own--only that our heroine takes a far higher class by not requiring the vulgar matter of fact of crime to develop her full powers. it is an affront to becky's tactics to believe that she could ever be reduced to so low a resource, or, that if she were, anybody would find it out. we, therefore, cannot sufficiently applaud the extreme discretion with which mr. thackeray has hinted at the possibly assistant circumstances of joseph sedley's dissolution. a less delicacy of handling would have marred the harmony of the whole design. such a casualty as that suggested to our imagination was not intended for the light net of vanity fair to draw on shore; it would have torn it to pieces. besides it is not wanted. poor little becky is bad enough to satisfy the most ardent student of "good books." wickedness, beyond a certain pitch, gives no increase of gratification even to the sternest moralist; and one of mr. thackeray's excellences is the sparing quantity he consumes. the whole _use_, too, of the work--that of generously measuring one another by this standard--is lost, the moment you convict becky of a capital crime. who can, with any face, liken a dear friend to a murderess? whereas now there are no little symptoms of fascinating ruthlessness, graceful ingratitude, or ladylike selfishness, observable among our charming acquaintance, that we may not immediately detect to an inch, and more effectually intimidate by the simple application of the becky gauge than by the most vehement use of all ten commandments. thanks to mr. thackeray, the world is now provided with an _idea_, which, if we mistake not, will be the skeleton in the corner of every ball-room and boudoir for a long time to come. let us leave it intact in its unique fount and freshness--a becky, and nothing more. we should, therefore, advise our readers to cut out that picture of our heroine's "second appearance as clytemnestra," which casts so uncomfortable a glare over the latter part of the volume, and, disregarding all hints and inuendoes, simply to let the changes and chances of this moral life have due weight in their minds. jos had been much in india. his was a bad life; he ate and drank most imprudently, and his digestion was not to be compared with becky's. no respectable office would have ensured "waterloo sedley." "vanity fair" is pre-eminently a novel of the day--not in the vulgar sense, of which there are too many, but as a literal photograph of the manners and habits of the nineteenth century, thrown on to paper by the light of a powerful mind; and one also of the most artistic effect. mr. thackeray has a peculiar adroitness in leading on the fancy, or rather memory of his readers from one set of circumstances to another by the seeming chances and coincidences of common life, as an artist leads the spectator's eye through the subject of his picture by a skilful repetition of colour. this is why it is impossible to quote from his book with any justice to it. the whole growth of the narrative is so matted and interwoven together with tendril-like links and bindings, that there is no detaching a flower with sufficient length of stalk to exhibit it to advantage. there is that mutual dependence in his characters which is the first requisite in painting every-day life: no one is stuck on a separate pedestal--no one is sitting for his portrait. there may be one exception--we mean sir pitt crawley, senior; it is possible, nay, we hardly doubt, that this baronet was closer drawn from individual life than anybody else in the book; but granting that fact, the animal was so unique an exception, that we wonder so shrewd an artist could stick him into a gallery so full of our familiars. the scenes in germany, we can believe, will seem to many readers of an english book hardly less extravagantly absurd--grossly and gratuitously overdrawn; but the initiated will value them as containing some of the keenest strokes of truth and humour that "vanity fair" exhibits, and not enjoy them the less for being at our neighbour's expense. for the thorough appreciation of the chief character they are quite indispensable too. the whole course of the work may be viewed as the _wander-jahre_ of a far cleverer female, _wilhelm meister_. we have watched her in the ups-and-downs of life--among the humble, the fashionable, the great, and the pious--and found her ever new, yet ever the same; but still becky among the students was requisite to complete the full measure of our admiration. "jane eyre," as a work, and one of equal popularity, is, in almost every respect, a total contrast to "vanity fair." the characters and events, though some of them masterly in conception, are coined expressly for the purpose of bringing out great effects. the hero and heroine are beings both so singularly unattractive that the reader feels they can have no vocation in the novel but to be brought together; and they do things which, though not impossible, lie utterly beyond the bounds of probability. on this account a short sketch of the plan seems requisite; not but what it is a plan familiar enough to all readers of novels-- especially those of the old school and those of the lowest school of our own day. for jane eyre is merely another pamela, who, by the force of her character and the strength of her principles, is carried victoriously through great trials and temptations from the man she loves. nor is she even a pamela adapted and refined to modern notions; for though the story is conducted without those derelictions of decorum which we are to believe had their excuse in the manners of richardson's time, yet it stamped with a coarseness of language and laxity of tone which have certainly no excuse in ours. it is a very remarkable book: we have no remembrance of another combining such genuine power with such horrid taste. both together have equally assisted to gain the great popularity it has enjoyed; for in these days of extravagant adoration of all that bears the stamp of novelty and originality, sheer rudeness and vulgarity have come in for a most mistaken worship. the story is written in the first person. jane begins with her earliest recollections, and at once takes possession of the readers' intensest interest by the masterly picture of a strange and oppressed child she raises up in a few strokes before him. she is an orphan, and a dependant in the house of a selfish, hard-hearted aunt, against whom the disposition of the little jane chafes itself in natural antipathy, till she contrives to make the unequal struggle as intolerable to her oppressor as it is to herself. she is, therefore, at eight years of age, got rid of to a sort of dothegirls hall, where she continues to enlist our sympathies for a time with her little pinched fingers, cropped hair, and empty stomach. but things improve: the abuses of the institution are looked into. the puritan patron, who holds that young orphan girls are only safely brought up upon the rules of la trappe, is superseded by an enlightened committee--the school assumes a sound english character-- jane progresses duly from scholar to teacher, and passes ten profitable and not unhappy years at lowood. then she advertises for a situation as governess, and obtains one immediately in one of the midland counties. we see her, therefore, as she leaves lowood, to enter upon a new life--a small, plain, odd creature, who has been brought up dry upon school learning, and somewhat stunted accordingly in mind and body, and who is now thrown upon the world as ignorant of its ways, and as destitute of its friendships, as a shipwrecked mariner upon a strange coast. thornfield hall is the property of mr. rochester--a bachelor addicted to travelling. she finds it at first in all the peaceful prestige of an english gentleman's seat when "nobody is at the hall." the companions are an old decayed gentlewoman housekeeper--a far away cousin of the squire's--and a young french child, jane's pupil, mr. rochester's ward and reputed daughter. there is a pleasing monotony in the summer solitude of the old country house, with its comfort, respectability, and dulness, which jane paints to the life; but there is one circumstance which varies the sameness and casts a mysterious feeling over the scene. a strange laugh is heard from time to time in a distant part of the house--a laugh which grates discordantly upon jane's ear. she listens, watches, and inquires, but can discover nothing but a plain matter of fact woman, who sits sewing somewhere in the attics, and goes up and down stairs peaceably to and from her dinner with the servants. but a mystery there is, though nothing betrays it, and it comes in with marvellous effect from the monotonous reality of all around. after awhile mr. rochester comes to thornfield, and sends for the child and her governess occasionally to bear him company. he is a dark, strange-looking man--strong and large--of the brigand stamp, with fine eyes and lowering brows--blunt and sarcastic in his manners, with a kind of misanthropical frankness, which seems based upon utter contempt for his fellow-creatures and a surly truthfulness which is more rudeness than honesty. with his arrival disappears all the prestige of country innocence that had invested thornfield hall. he brings the taint of the world upon him, and none of its illusions. the queer little governess is something new to him. he talks to her at one time imperiously as to a servant, and at another recklessly as to a man. he pours into her ears disgraceful tales of his past life, connected with the birth of little adele, which any man with common respect for a woman, and that a mere girl of eighteen, would have spared her; but which eighteen in this case listens to as if it were nothing new, and certainly nothing distasteful. he is captious and turk-like--she is one day his confidant, and another his unnoticed dependant. in short, by her account, mr. rochester is a strange brute, somewhat in the squire western style of absolute and capricious eccentricity, though redeemed in him by signs of a cultivated intellect, and gleams of a certain fierce justice of heart. he has a _mind_, and when he opens it at all, he opens it freely to her. jane becomes attached to her "master," as pamela-like she calls him, and it is not difficult to see that solitude and propinquity are taking effect upon him also. an odd circumstance heightens the dawning romance. jane is awoke one night by that strange discordant laugh close to her ear-- then a noise as if hands feeling along the wall. she rises--opens her door, finds the passage full of smoke, is guided by it to her master's room, whose bed she discovers enveloped in flames, and by her timely aid saves his life. after this they meet no more for ten days, when mr. rochester returns from a visit to a neighbouring family, bringing with him a housefull of distinguished guests; at the head of whom is miss blanche ingram, a haughty beauty of high birth, and evidently the especial object of the squire's attentions--upon which tumultuous irruption miss eyre slips back into her naturally humble position. our little governess is now summoned away to attend her aunt's death-bed, who is visited by some compunctions towards her, and she is absent a month. when she returns thornfield hall is quit of all its guests, and mr. rochester and she resume their former life of captious cordiality on the one side, and diplomatic humility on the other. at the same time the bugbear of miss ingram and of mr. rochester's engagement with her is kept up, though it is easy to see that this and all concerning that lady is only a stratagem to try jane's character and affection upon the most approved griselda precedent. accordingly an opportunity for explanation ere long offers itself, where mr. rochester has only to take it. miss eyre is desired to walk with him in shady alleys, and to sit with him on the roots of an old chestnut-tree towards the close of evening, and of course she cannot disobey her "master"--whereupon there ensues a scene which, as far as we remember, is new equally in art or nature; in which miss eyre confesses her love--whereupon mr. rochester drops not only his cigar (which she seems to be in the habit of lighting for him) but his mask, and finally offers not only heart, but hand. the wedding day is soon fixed, but strange misgivings and presentiments haunt the young lady's mind. the night but one before her bed-room is entered by a horrid phantom, who tries on the wedding veil, sends jane into a swoon of terror, and defeats all the favourite refuge of a bad dream by leaving the veil in two pieces. but all is ready. the bride has no friends to assist--the couple walk to church--only the clergyman and the clerk are there--but jane's quick eye has seen two figures lingering among the tombstones, and these two follow them into church. the ceremony commences, when at the due charge which summons any man to come forward and show just cause why they should not be joined together, a voice interposes to forbid the marriage. there is an impediment, and a serious one. the bridegroom has a wife not only living, but living under the very roof of thornfield hall. hers was that discordant laugh which had so often caught jane's ear; she it was who in her malice had tried to burn mr. rochester in his bed--who had visited jane by night and torn her veil, and whose attendant was that same pretended sew-woman who had so strongly excited jane's curiosity. for mr. rochester's wife is a creature, half fiend, half maniac, whom he had married in a distant part of the world, and whom now, in self-constituted code of morality, he had thought it his right, and even his duty, to supersede by a more agreeable companion. now follow scenes of a truly tragic power. this is the grand crisis in jane's life. her whole soul is wrapt up in mr. rochester. he has broken her trust, but not diminished her love. he entreats her to accept all that he still can give, his heart and his home; he pleads with the agony not only of a man who has never known what it was to conquer a passion, but of one who, by that same self-constituted code, now burns to atone for a disappointed crime. there is no one to help her against him or against herself. jane had no friends to stand by her at the altar, and she has none to support her now she is plucked away from it. there is no one to be offended or disgraced at her following him to the sunny land of italy, as he proposes, till the maniac should die. there is no duty to any one but to herself, and this feeble reed quivers and trembles beneath the overwhelming weight of love and sophistry opposed to it. but jane triumphs; in the middle of the night she rises--glides out of her room--takes off her shoes as she passes mr. rochester's chamber;--leaves the house, and casts herself upon a world more desert than ever to her-- without a shilling and without a friend. thus the great deed of self-conquest is accomplished; jane has passed through the fire of temptation from without and from within; her character is stamped from that day; we need therefore follow her no further into wanderings and sufferings which, though not unmixed with plunder from minerva-lane, occupy some of, on the whole, the most striking chapters in the book. virtue of course finds her reward. the maniac wife sets fire to thornfield hall, and perishes herself in the flames. mr. rochester, in endeavouring to save her, loses the sight of his eyes. jane rejoins her blind master; they are married, after which of course the happy man recovers his sight. such is the outline of a tale in which, combined with great materials for power and feeling, the reader may trace gross inconsistencies and improbabilities, and chief and foremost that highest moral offence a novel writer can commit, that of making an unworthy character interesting in the eyes of the reader. mr. rochester is a man who deliberately and secretly seeks to violate the laws both of god and man, and yet we will be bound half our lady readers are enchanted with him for a model of generosity and honour. we would have thought that such a hero had had no chance, in the purer taste of the present day; but the popularity of jane eyre is a proof how deeply the love for illegitimate romance is implanted in our nature. not that the author is strictly responsible for this. mr. rochester's character is tolerably consistent. he is made as coarse and as brutal as can in all conscience be required to keep our sympathies at a distance. in point of literary consistency the hero is at all events impugnable, though we cannot say as much for the heroine. as to jane's character--there is none of that harmonious unity about it which made little becky so grateful a subject of analysis--nor are the discrepancies of that kind which have their excuse and their response in our nature. the inconsistencies of jane's character lie mainly not in her own imperfections, though of course she has her share, but in the author's. there is that confusion in the relations between cause and effect, which is not so much untrue to human nature as to human art. the error in jane eyre is, not that her character is this or that, but that she is made one thing in the eyes of her imaginary companions, and another in that of the actual reader. there is a perpetual disparity between the account she herself gives of the effect she produces, and the means shown us by which she brings that effect about. we hear nothing but self-eulogiums on the perfect tact and wondrous penetration with which she is gifted, and yet almost every word she utters offends us, not only with the absence of these qualities, but with the positive contrasts of them, in either her pedantry, stupidity, or gross vulgarity. she is one of those ladies who puts us in the unpleasant predicament of undervaluing their very virtues for dislike of the person in whom they are represented. one feels provoked as jane eyre stands before us--for in the wonderful reality of her thoughts and descriptions, she seems accountable for all done in her name--with principles you must approve in the main, and yet with language and manners that offend you in every particular. even in that _chef-d'oeuvre_ of brilliant retrospective sketching, the description of her early life, it is the childhood and not the child that interests you. the little jane, with her sharp eyes and dogmatic speeches, is a being you neither could fondle nor love. there is a hardness in her infantine earnestness, and a spiteful precocity in her reasoning, which repulses all our sympathy. one sees that she is of a nature to dwell upon and treasure up every slight and unkindness, real or fancied, and such natures we know are surer than any others to meet with plenty of this sort of thing. as the child, so also the woman--an uninteresting, sententious, pedantic thing; with no experience of the world, and yet with no simplicity or freshness in its stead. what are her first answers to mr. rochester but such as would have quenched all interest, even for a prettier woman, in any man of common knowledge of what was nature--and especially in a _blasé_ monster like him? * * * * * but the crowning scene is the offer--governesses are said to be sly on such occasions, but jane out-governesses them all--little becky would have blushed for her. they are sitting together at the foot of the old chestnut tree, as we have already mentioned, towards the close of evening, and mr. rochester is informing her, with his usual delicacy of language, that he is engaged to miss ingram--"a strapper! jane, a real strapper!"--and that as soon as he brings home his bride to thornfield, she, the governess, must "trot forthwith"--but that he shall make it his duty to look out for employment and an asylum for her--indeed, that he has already heard of a charming situation in the depths of ireland--all with a brutal jocoseness which most women of spirit, unless grievously despairing of any other lover, would have resented, and any woman of sense would have seen through. but jane, that profound reader of the human heart, and especially of mr. rochester's, does neither. she meekly hopes she may be allowed to stay where she is till she has found another shelter to betake herself to--she does not fancy going to ireland--why? "it is a long way off, sir." "no matter--a girl of your sense will not object to the voyage or the distance." "not the voyage, but the distance, sir; and then the sea is a barrier--" "from what, jane?" "from england, and from thornfield; and--" "well?" "from _you_, sir." --vol. ii, p. . and then the lady bursts into tears in the most approved fashion. although so clever in giving hints, how wonderfully slow she is in taking them! even when, tired of his cat's play, mr. rochester proceeds to rather indubitable demonstrations of affection--"enclosing me in his arms, gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on my lips"--jane has no idea what he can mean. some ladies would have thought it high time to leave the squire alone with his chestnut tree; or, at all events, unnecessary to keep up that tone of high-souled feminine obtusity which they are quite justified in adopting if gentlemen will not speak out--but jane again does neither. not that we say she was wrong, but quite the reverse, considering the circumstances of the case-- mr. rochester was her master, and "duchess or nothing" was her first duty--only she was not quite so artless as the author would have us suppose. but if the manner in which she secures the prize be not inadmissible according to the rules of the art, that in which she manages it when caught, is quite without authority or precedent, except perhaps in the servants' hall. most lover's play is wearisome and nonsensical to the lookers on--but the part jane assumes is one which could only be efficiently sustained by the substitution of sam for her master. coarse as mr. rochester is, one winces for him under the infliction of this housemaid _beau idéal_ of the arts of coquetry. a little more, and we should have flung the book aside to lie for ever among the trumpery with which such scenes ally it; but it were a pity to have halted here, for wonderful things lie beyond--scenes of suppressed feeling, more fearful to witness than the most violent tornados of passion--struggles with such intense sorrow and suffering as it is sufficient misery to know that any one should have conceived, far less passed through; and yet with that stamp of truth which takes precedence in the human heart before actual experience. the flippant, fifth-rate, plebeian actress has vanished, and only a noble, high-souled woman, bound to us by the reality of her sorrow, and yet raised above us by the strength of her will, stands in actual life before us. if this be jane eyre, the author has done her injustice hitherto, not we. * * * * * we have said that this was the picture of a natural heart. this, to our view, is the great and crying mischief of the book. jane eyre is throughout the personification of an unregenerate and undisciplined spirit, and more dangerous to exhibit from that prestige of principle and self-control which is liable to dazzle the eye too much for it to observe the inefficient and unsound foundation on which it rests. it is true jane does right, and exerts great moral strength, but it is the strength of a mere heathen mind which is a law unto itself. no christian grace is perceptible upon her. she has inherited in fullest measure the worst sin of our fallen nature--the sin of pride. jane eyre is proud, and therefore she is ungrateful too. it pleased god to make her an orphan, friendless, and penniless--yet she thanks nobody, and least of all him, for the food and raiment, the friends, companions, and instructors of her helpless youth--for the care and education vouchsafed to her till she was capable in mind as fitted in years to provide for herself. on the contrary, she looks upon all that has been done for her not only as her undoubted right, but as falling far short of it. the doctrine of humility is not more foreign to her mind than it is repudiated by her heart. it is by her own talents, virtues, and courage that she is made to attain the summit of human happiness, and, as far as jane eyre's own statement is concerned, no one would think that she owed anything either to god above or to man below. she flees from mr. rochester, and has not a being to turn to. why was this? the excellence of the present institution at casterton, which succeeded that of cowan bridge near kirkby lonsdale--these being distinctly, as we hear, the original and the reformed lowoods of the book--is pretty generally known. jane had lived there for eight years with girls and fifteen teachers. why had she formed no friendships among them? other orphans have left the same and similar institutions, furnished with friends for life, and puzzled with homes to choose from. how comes it that jane had acquired neither? among that number of associates there were surely some exceptions to what she so presumptuously stigmatises as "the society of inferior minds." of course it suited the author's end to represent the heroine as utterly destitute of the common means of assistance, in order to exhibit both her trials and her powers of self-support--the whole book rests on this assumption--but it is one which, under the circumstances, is very unnatural and very unjust. altogether the auto-biography of jane eyre is pre-eminently an anti-christian composition. there is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor, which, as far as each individual is concerned, is a murmuring against god's appointment--there is a proud and perpetual assertion of the rights of man, for which we find no authority either in god's word or in god's providence--there is that pervading tone of ungodly discontent which is at once the most prominent and the most subtle evil which the law and the pulpit, which all civilized society in fact has at the present day to contend with. we do not hesitate to say that the tone of mind and thought which has overthrown authority and violated every code human and divine abroad, and fostered chartism and rebellion at home, is the same which has also written jane eyre. still we say again this is a very remarkable book. we are painfully alive to the moral, religious, and literary deficiencies of the picture, and such passages of beauty and power as we have quoted cannot redeem it, but it is impossible not to be spell-bound with the freedom of the touch. it would be mere hackneyed courtesy to call it "fine writing." it bears no impress of being written at all, but is poured out rather in the heat and hurry of an instinct, which flows ungovernably on to its object, indifferent by what means it reaches it, and unconscious too. as regards the author's chief object, however, it is a failure--that, namely, of making a plain, odd woman, destitute of all the conventional features of feminine attraction, interesting in our sight. we deny that he has succeeded in this. jane eyre, in spite of some grand things about her, is a being totally uncongenial to our feelings from beginning to end. we acknowledge her firmness--we respect her determination--we feel for her struggles; but, for all that, and setting aside higher considerations, the impression she leaves on our mind is that of a decidedly vulgar-minded woman--one whom we should not care for as an acquaintance, whom we should not seek as a friend, whom we should not desire for a relation, and whom we should scrupulously avoid for a governess. there seems to have arisen in the novel-reading world some doubts as to who really wrote this book; and various rumours, more or less romantic, have been current in mayfair, the metropolis of gossip, as to the authorship. for example, jane eyre is sentimentally assumed to have proceeded from the pen of mr. thackeray's governess, whom he had himself chosen as his model of becky, and who, in mingled love and revenge, personified him in return as mr. rochester. in this case, it is evident that the author of "vanity fair," whose own pencil makes him grey-haired, has had the best of it, though his children may have had the worst, having, at all events, succeeded in hitting the vulnerable point in the becky bosom, which it is our firm belief no man born of woman, from her soho to her ostend days, had ever so much as grazed. to this ingenious rumour the coincidence of the second edition of jane eyre being dedicated to mr. thackeray has probably given rise. for our parts, we see no great interest in the question at all. the first edition of jane eyre purports to be edited by currer bell, one of a trio of brothers, or sisters, or cousins, by names currer, acton, and ellis bell, already known as the joint-authors of a volume of poems. the second edition the same--dedicated, however, "by the author," to mr. thackeray; and the dedication (itself an indubitable _chip_ of jane eyre) signed currer bell. author and editor therefore are one, and we are as much satisfied to accept this double individual under the name of "currer bell," as under any other, more or less euphonious. whoever it be, it is a person who, with great mental powers, combines a total ignorance of the habits of society, a great coarseness of taste, and a heathenish doctrine of religion. and as these characteristics appear more or less in the writings of all three, currer, acton, and ellis alike, for their poems differ less in degree of power than in kind, we are ready to accept the fact of their identity or of their relationship with equal satisfaction. at all events there can be no interest attached to the writer of "wuthering heights "--a novel succeeding "jane eyre," and purporting to be written by ellis bell--unless it were for the sake of more individual reprobation. for though there is a decided family likeness between the two, yet the aspect of the jane and rochester animals in their native state, as catherine and heathfield [transcriber's note: sic], is too odiously and abominably pagan to be palatable even to the most vitiated class of english readers. with all the unscrupulousness of the french school of novels it combines that repulsive vulgarity in the choice of its vice which supplies its own antidote. the question of authorship, therefore, can deserve a moment's curiosity only as far as "jane eyre" is concerned, and though we cannot pronounce that it appertains to a real mr. currer bell and to no other, yet that it appertains to a man, and not, as many assert, to a woman, we are strongly inclined to affirm. without entering into the question whether the power of the writing be above her, or the vulgarity below her, there are, we believe, minutiae of circumstantial evidence which at once acquit the feminine hand. no woman--a lady friend, whom we are always happy to consult, assures us--makes mistakes in her own _métier_-- no woman _trusses game_ and garnishes dessert-dishes with the same hands, or talks of so doing in the same breath. above all, no woman attires another in such fancy dresses as jane's ladies assume--miss ingram coming down, irresistible, "in a _morning_ robe of sky-blue crape, a gauze azure scarf twisted in her hair!!" no lady, we understand, when suddenly roused in the night, would think of hurrying on "_a frock_." they have garments more convenient for such occasions, and more becoming too. this evidence seems incontrovertible. even granting that these incongruities were purposely assumed, for the sake of disguising the female pen, there is nothing gained; for if we ascribe the book to a woman at all, we have no alternative but to ascribe it to one who has, for some sufficient reason, long forfeited the society of her own sex. on george eliot [from _the quarterly review_, october, ] . _scenes of clerical life_ [containing _the sad fortunes of the reverend amos barton; mr. gilfil's love story_; and _janet's repentance_]. by george eliot. second edition. vols. edinburgh and london, . . _adam bede_. by george eliot. sixth edition, vols. . . _the mill on the floss_. by george eliot. vols. . we frequently hear the remark, that in the present day everything is tending to uniformity--that all minds are taught to think alike, that the days of novelty have departed. to us, however, it appears that the age abounds in new and abnormal modes of thought--we had almost said, forms of being. what could be so new and so unlikely as that the young and irreproachable maiden daughter of a clergyman should have produced so extraordinary a work as "jane eyre,"--a work of which we were compelled to express the opinion that the unknown and mysterious "currer bell" held "a heathenish doctrine of religion"; that the ignorance which the book displayed as to the proprieties of female dress was hardly compatible with the idea of its having been written by a woman; but that, if a woman at all, the writer must be "one who had, for some sufficient reason, long forfeited the society of her own sex." in attempting to guess at the character and circumstances of the writer, a reviewer could only choose among such types of men and women as he had known, or heard, or read of. an early european settler in australia, in conjecturing whether his garden had been ravaged by a bird or by a quadruped, would not light readily on the conception of an ornithorhynchus; and assuredly no one accustomed only to ordinary men and women could have divined the character, the training, and the position of charlotte brontë, as they have been made known to us by her biographer's unsparing revelations. it was not to be expected that any one should have imagined the life of howorth [trasncriber's note: sic] parsonage; the gifted, wayward, and unhappy sisterhood in their cheerless home; the rudeness of the only society which was within their reach; while their views of anything beyond their own immediate circle, and certain unpleasing forms of school-life which they had known, were drawn from the representations of a brother whose abilities they regarded with awe, but who in other respects appears to have been an utterly worthless debauchee; lying and slandering, bragging not only of the sins which he had committed, but of many which he had not committed; thoroughly depraved himself, and tainting the thoughts of all within his sphere. there was, therefore, in "jane eyre," as the reviewer supposed, the influence of a corrupt male mind, although this influence had been exerted through an unsuspected medium. we now know how it was that a clergyman's daughter, herself innocent, and honourably devoted to the discharge of many a painful duty, could have written such a book as "jane eyre" but without such explanations as mrs. gaskell has placed (perhaps somewhat too unreservedly) before the world, the thing would have been inconceivable. indeed there is very sufficient evidence that the quarterly reviewer was by no means alone in entertaining the opinions we have referred to: for the book was most vehemently cried up-- the society of the authoress, when she became known, was most eagerly courted--assiduous attempts were made (greatly to her annoyance) to enlist her, to exhibit her, to trade on her fame--by the very persons who would have been most ready to welcome her if she had been such as the reviewer supposed her to be. and it is clear that the gentleman who introduced himself to her acquaintance on the ground that each of them had "written a naughty book" must have drawn pretty much the same conclusions from the tone of miss brontë's first novel as the writer in this review. in like manner a great and remarkable departure from ordinary forms and conditions has caused extreme uncertainty and many mistaken guesses as to the new novelist who writes under the name of george eliot. one critic of considerable pretensions, for instance, declared his belief that "george eliot" was "a gentleman of high-church tendencies"; next came the strange mystification which ascribed the "eliot" tales to one mr. joseph liggins; and finally, the public learnt on authority that the "gentleman of high church tendencies" was a lady; and that this lady was the same who had given a remarkable proof of mastery over both the german language and her own, but had certainly not established a reputation for orthodoxy, by a translation of strauss's "life of jesus." it is now too late to claim credit for having discovered the female authorship before this disclosure of the fact. but it seems to us impossible, when once the idea has been suggested, to read through these books without finding confirmation of it in almost every page. there is, indeed, power such as is rarely given to woman (or to man either); there are traces of knowledge which is not usual among women (although some of the classical quotations might at least have been more correctly printed); there is a good deal of coarseness, which it is unpleasant to think of as the work of a woman; and, as we shall have occasion to observe more fully hereafter, the influence which these novels are likely to exercise over the public taste is not altogether such as a woman should aim at. but, with all this, the tone and atmosphere of the books are unquestionably feminine. the men are a woman's men--the women are a woman's women; the points on which the descriptions dwell in persons of each sex are those which a woman would choose. in matters of dress we are assured that "george eliot" avoids the errors of "jane eyre"; for no doubt she has had better opportunities of study than those which were afforded by the sunday finery of howorth church. the sketches of nature, of character, of life and manners, show female observation; penetrating where it alone could penetrate, and usually stopping at the boundaries beyond which it does not advance.... on looking at these very slight sketches we cannot but be struck by the uniformly melancholy ending of the tales. the first culminates in the death of the heroine (a word which in relation to these stories must be very loosely interpreted), mrs. barton; the second, in the death of the heroine, mrs. gilfil; the third, in the death of the hero, mr. tryan; the fourth, in the death of one of the heroines, hetty sorrel; the fifth, in the simultaneous death of the heroine and her brother, who is, we suppose, to be regarded as the chief hero. surely this is an exaggerated representation of the proportion which sorrow bears to happiness in human life; and the fact that a popular writer has (whether consciously or not) brought every one of the five stories which she has published to a tragical end gives a very uncomfortable idea of the tone of our present literature. and other such symptoms are only too plentiful--the announcement of a novel with the title of "why paul freeoll killed his wife" being one of the latest. with all respect for the talents of the lady who offers us the solution of this question, we must honestly profess that we would rather not know, and that we regret such an employment of her pen. and in "george eliot's" writings there is very much of this kind to regret. she delights in unpleasant subjects--in the representation of things which are repulsive, coarse, and degrading. thus, in "mr. gilfil's story," tina is only prevented from committing murder by the opportune death of her intended victim. in "janet's repentance," a drunken husband beats his beautiful but drunken wife, turns her out of doors at midnight in her night-dress, and dies of "_delirium tremens_ and _meningitis_." ... so, in "adam bede" we have all the circumstances of hetty's seduction and the birth and murder of her illegitimate child; and in the "mill on the floss" there are the almost indecent details of mere animal passion in the loves of stephen and maggie. if these are, as the writer's more thorough-going admirers would tell us, the depths of human nature, we do not see what good can be expected from raking them up,--not for the benefit of those whom the warnings may concern (for these are not likely to heed any warnings which may be presented in such a form), but for the amusement of ordinary readers in hours of idleness and relaxation. compare "adam bede" with that one of scott's novels which has something in common with it as to story--the "heart of midlothian." in each a beautiful young woman of the peasant class is tried and condemned for child-murder; but, although condemned on circumstancial evidence under a law of peculiar severity, effie deans is really innocent, whereas hetty sorrel is guilty. in the novel of the last generation we see little of effie, and our attention is chiefly drawn to the simple heroism of her sister jeanie. in the novel of the present day, everything about hetty is most elaborately described: her thoughts throughout the whole course of the seduction, her misery on discovering that there is evidence of her frailty, her sufferings on the journey to windsor and back (for it is the edie and not the jeanie of this tale that makes a long solitary journey to the south), her despairing hardness in the prison, her confession, her behaviour on the way to the gallows. that all this is represented with extraordinary force we need not say; and doubtless the partisans of "george eliot" would tell us that scott could not have written the chapters in question. we do not think it necessary to discuss that point, but we are sure that in any case he _would_ not have written them, because his healthy judgment would have rejected such matters as unfit for the novelist's art. the boldness with which george eliot chooses her subjects is very remarkable. it is not that, like other writers, she fails in the attempt to represent people as agreeable and interesting, but she knowingly forces _dis_agreeable people on us, and insists that we shall be interested in their story by the skill with which it is told. mr. amos barton, for instance, is as uninteresting a person as can well be imagined: a dull, obtuse curate, whose poverty gives him no fair claim to pity; for he has entered the ministry of the english church without any particular conviction of its superiority to other religious bodies; without any special fitness for its ministry; without anything of the ability which might reasonably entitle him to expect to rise; and without the private means which are necessary for the support of most married men in a profession which, if it is not (as it is sometimes called) a lottery, has very great inequalities of income, and to the vast majority of those who follow it gives very little indeed. mr. barton is not a gentleman--a defect which the farmers and tradespeople of his parish are not slow to discover, and for which they despise him. he is without any misgivings as to himself or suspicion of his deficiencies in any way, and his conduct is correctly described in a lisping speech of the "secondary squire" of his parish, "what an ath barton makth of himthelf!" yet for this stupid man our sympathy is bespoken, merely because he has a wife so much too good for him that we are almost inclined to be angry with her for her devotion to him. tina is an undisciplined, abnormal little creature, without good looks or any attractive quality except a talent for music, and with a temper capable of the most furious excesses. although janet is described as handsome, amiable, and cultivated, all these good properties are overwhelmed in our thoughts of her by the degrading vice of which she is to be cured; while her prophet, mr. tryan, although very zealous in his work, is avowedly a narrow calvinist, wanting in intellectual culture, very irritable, not a little bitter and uncharitable, excessively fond of applause without being very critical as to the quarter from which it comes, and strongly possessed with the love of domination. tom tulliver is hard, close, unimaginative, self-confident, repelling, with a stern rectitude of a certain kind, but with no understanding of or toleration for any character different from his own. philip wakem is a personage as little pleasant as picturesque. maggie, as a child--although in her father's opinion "too clever for a gell"--is foolish, vain, self-willed, and always in some silly scrape or other; and when grown up, her behaviour is such, even before the climax of the affair with stephen guest, that the dislike of the st. ogg's ladies for her might have been very sufficiently accounted for even if they had not had reason to envy her superior beauty. but of all the characters for whom our authoress has been pleased to bespeak our interest, hetty sorrel is the most remarkable for unamiable qualities. she is represented as "distractingly pretty," and we hear a great deal about her "kitten-like beauty," and her graceful movements, looks, and attitudes. but this is all that can be said for her. her mind has no room for anything but looks and dress; she has no feeling for anybody but her little self; and is only too truly declared by mrs. poyser to be "no better than a peacock, as 'ud strut about on the wall, and spread its tail when the sun shone, if all the folks i' the parish was dying"--"no better nor a cherry, wi' a hard stone inside it."[ ] over and over this view of hetty's character is enforced on us, from the time when, early in the first volume, we are told that hers "was a springtide beauty; it was the beauty of young frisking things, round-limbed, gambolling, circumventing you by a false air of innocence.[ ] ..." [ ] "adam bede," i. ; ii. . [ ] _ibid_., i. . her conduct throughout is such as to offend and disgust; and the authoress does not seem to be sufficiently aware that, while the descriptions of the little coquette's beauty leave that to be imagined, her follies and faults and crimes are set before us as matters of hard, unmistakeable fact, so that the reader is in no danger of being blinded by the charms which blinded adam bede, and hetty consequently appears as little else than contemptible when she is not odious. yet it is on this silly, heartless, and wicked little thing that the interest of the story is made to rest. her agonies, as we have already said, are depicted with very great power; yet, if they touch our hearts, it is merely because they _are_ agonies, and our feeling is unmixed with any regard for the sufferer herself. this habit of representing her characters without any concealment of their faults is, no doubt, connected with that faculty which enables the authoress to give them so remarkable an air of reality. there are, indeed, exceptions to this, as there are in almost every work of fiction. thus, sir christopher and lady cheverel strike us as old acquaintances whom we have known not in real life, but in books. we are not altogether sure of stately old mrs. irwine, and are sceptical as to dinah morris, notwithstanding the very great pains which the authoress has evidently bestowed on her--perhaps because she is utterly unlike such female methodists as have fallen within our own (happily, small) experience; and bob jakin is a grotesque caricature, which would have been far better done by mr. dickens, who is undeniably great in the production of grotesques, although we do not remember that throughout the whole of his voluminous works he has ever succeeded in embodying a single natural and lifelike character. but, with a very few exceptions, "george eliot's" personages have that appearance of reality in which those of mr. dickens are so conspicuously wanting. and while mr. dickens's views of english life and society are about as far from the truth as those of the french dramatists and romancers, "george eliot" is able to represent the social circumstances in which her action is laid with the strongest appearance of verisimilitude. we may not ourselves have known shepperton, or hayslope, or st. ogg's; but we feel as much at home in them as if we had.... tulliver may be cited as another well-imagined and well-executed character, with his downright impetuous honesty, his hatred of "raskills," and his disposition to see rascality everywhere; his resolution to stand on his rights, his good-natured contempt for his wife, his very justifiable dislike of her sisters, his love for his children, and his determination that they shall have a good education, cost what it may,--the benefits of education having been impressed on his mind by his own inability to "wrap up things in words as aren't actionable," and by the consequent perception that "it's an uncommon fine thing, that is, when we can let a man know what you think of him without paying for it."[ ] his love of litigation is reconciled with his belief that "the law is meant to take care o' raskills," and that "old harry made the lawyers" by the principle that the cause which has the "biggest raskill" for attorney has the best chance of success; so that honesty need not despair if it can only secure the professional assistance of accomplished roguery. and when, notwithstanding this, the law and mr. wakem have been too much for him, great skill is shown in the description of poor tulliver's latter days; his prostration and partial recovery; the concentration of his feelings on the desire to wipe out the dishonour of insolvency, and to avenge himself on the hostile attorney. indeed, we confess that, notwithstanding his somewhat unedifying end, tulliver is the only person in "the mill on the floss" for whom we can bring ourselves to care much. [ ] "the mill on the floss," i. . the reality of which we have been speaking is connected with a peculiar sort of consciousness in the authoress, as if she had actually witnessed all that she describes, and were resolved to describe it without any attempt to refine beyond the naked truth. thus, the most serious characters make their most solemn and most pathetic speeches in provincial dialect and ungrammatical constructions, although it must be allowed that the authoress has not ventured so far in this way as to play with the use and abuse of the aspirate. and her dialect appears to be very carefully studied, although we may doubt whether the staffordshire provincialisms of "clerical life" and "adam bede" are sufficiently varied when the scene is shifted in the latest book to the lincolnshire side of the humber. but where a greater variation than that between one midland dialect and another is required, "george eliot's" conscientiousness is very curiously shown. there is in "mr. gilfil's story" a gardener of the name of bates, who is described as a yorkshireman, and in "adam bede" there is another gardener, mr. craig, whose name would naturally indicate a scotchman. each of these horticulturists is introduced into the dialogue, and of course the reader would expect the one to talk yorkshire and the other to talk some variety of scotch. but the authoress, apparently, did not feel herself mistress of either scotch or yorkshire to such a degree as would have warranted her in attempting them, and therefore, before her characters are allowed to open their mouths, she, in each case, is careful to tell us that we must moderate our expectations: "mr. bates's lips were of a peculiar cut, and i fancy this had something to do with the peculiarity of his dialect, which, as we shall see, was individual rather than provincial."[ ] [ ] "scenes of clerical life," i. . "i think it was mr. craig's pedigree only that had the advantage of being scotch, and not his 'bringing up'; for, except that he had a stronger burr in his accent, his speech differed little from that of the loamshire people around him."[ ] in short, except that lucifer matches are twice introduced as familiar things in days when the tinder-box was the only resource in general use for obtaining a light,[ ] we have not observed anything in which the authoress could be "caught out." [ ] "adam bede," i. . [ ] "adam bede," i. , . but this conscientious fidelity has very serious drawbacks. it seems as if the authoress felt herself under an obligation to give everything literally as it took place; to shut out nothing which is superfluous; to suppress nothing which is unfit for a work of fiction (for not only have we a report of dinah morris's sermons, but the very words of the prayer which she put up for hetty in the prison); to abridge nothing which is tiresome. people and incidents are described at length, although they have little or nothing to do with the story. we may mention as instances the detailed history and character which are given of tom tulliver's tutor, the reverend walter stelling, and the account of mr. poyser's harvest-home, which, however good in itself, is utterly out of place between the crisis and the conclusion of the story. but most especially we complain of the fondness which the authoress shows for exhibiting uninteresting and tiresome people in all their interminable tediousness; and if the morbid tone which we have already mentioned reminds us of a french school of novelists, her passion for photographing the minutest details of dullness reminds us painfully of those american ladies who contribute so largely to the literature of our railway-stalls, by flooding their boundless prairies of dingy paper with inexhaustible masses of blotchy type. we quite admit the naturalness of the tradespeople and other small folks whom this writer has perhaps explored more deeply than any earlier novelist; but surely we have far too much of them. it has indeed been said that we are spoiled by the activity of the present day for enjoying the faithful picture of what life was in country parishes and in little country towns fifty years ago; but we really cannot admit the justice of this attempt to throw the blame on ourselves. dullness, we may be sure, has not died out within the last half century, but is yet to be found in plenty; and, if times were dull fifty or a hundred years ago, the novelists of those days--scott and fielding, and smollett, and even goldsmith in his simple tale--did not make their readers groan under their dullness.... but _are_ we likely to feel more kindly towards such people as those of whom we are now complaining, because all their triviality, and smallness, and tediousness are displayed at wearisome length on paper? if some dutch painters bestowed their skill on homely old women and boozy boors, there is no evidence that they were capable of better things, and their choice of subjects is no justification for one who certainly can do better. nor do we complain that we have an old woman or a coarse merrymaking occasionally, but that such things in their monotonous meanness fill whole rooms of "george eliot's" gallery; and, in truth, the real parallel to her is not to be found in the old dutchmen who honestly painted what was before their eyes, but rather in the perverseness of our modern "pre-raphaelites." it is of these gentlemen--who, by the way, in their reactionary affectations are the most entire opposites of the simple, unaffected, and forward-striving artists who really lived before raphael--it is of these gentlemen, with their choice of disagreeable subjects, uncomely models, and uncouth attitudes, their bestowal of superfluous labour on trifling details, and the consequent obtrusiveness of subordinate things so as to mar the general effect of the work, that "george eliot" too often reminds us. how very wearisome is the conversation of the clique of inferior women who worship mr. tryan! how dismally twaddling is that respectable old congregationalist, mr. jerome, with his tidy little garden and his "littel chacenut hoss"! we feel for mr. tryan when in the society of such people, although to him it was mitigated by the belief that he was doing good by associating with them, and that by love of incense from any quarter which is described as part of his character. but why should it be inflicted in such fearful doses on us, who have done nothing to deserve it, who have no "mission" to encounter it, and are entirely without mr. tryan's consolations under the endurance of it? adam bede's mother is another sore trial of the reader's patience--with her endless fretful chatter, and all the details of her urging her sons, one after the other, to refresh themselves with cold potatoes: nay, we are not reconciled to these vegetables even by the fact that on one occasion they are recommended as "taters wi' the gravy in 'em."[ ] but it is in "the mill on the floss" that the plague of tedious conversation reaches its height. mrs. tulliver is one of four married sisters, whose maiden name had been dodson, and in these sisters there is a studious combination of family likeness with individual varieties of character. mrs. tulliver herself--whose "blond" complexion is generally associated by our authoress with imbecility of mind and character--belongs to that class of minds of which mrs. quickly may be considered as the chief intellectual type. mrs. pullet--the wife of a gentleman farmer, whose great characteristic is a habit of sucking lozenges, and whom tom tulliver most justly sets down as a "nincompoop"--is almost sillier than mrs. tulliver. she has the gift of tears ever ready to flow, and sheds them profusely on the anticipation of imaginary and ridiculous woes. her favourite vanity consists in drawing dismal pictures of the future and in priding herself on the bodily sufferings of her neighbours; that one had "been tapped no end o' times, and the water--they say you might ha' swum in it if you'd liked"; that another's "breath was short to that degree as you could hear him two rooms off"; and her highest religion-- the loftiest exercise of her faith and self-denial--is the accumulation of superfluous clothes and linen, in the hope that they may make a creditable display after her death. mrs. deane is "a thin-lipped woman, who made small well-considered speeches on peculiar occasions, repeating them afterwards to her husband, and asking him if she had not spoken very properly"; and of her we see but little. but of the eldest of the four, mrs. glegg, we see so much that we are really made quite uncomfortable by her; for she is a very formidable person indeed,-- utterly without kindness, bullying everybody within her reach (her husband included), holding herself up as a model to everybody, and shaming all other families--especially those into which she and her sisters had married--by odious comparisons with the dodsons. all this we grant is very cleverly done. the grim mrs. glegg and the fatuous mrs. tulliver and mrs. pullet talk admirably in their respective kinds; and we can quite believe that there are people who are not unfairly represented by the dodsons--with, the narrow limitation of their thoughts to their own little circle--the extravagantly high opinion of their own vulgar family, with the corresponding depreciation of all in and about their own rank who do not belong to it--their perfect conviction that their own family traditions (such as the copious eating of salt in their broth) are the standard of all that is good--their consecration of all their most elevated feelings to the worship of furniture, and clothes, and table-linen, and silver spoons--their utter alienation from all that, in the opinion of educated people, can make life fit to be enjoyed. the humour of mrs. glegg's determination that no ill desert of a relation shall interfere with the disposal of her property by will on the most rigidly dodsonian principles of justice, according to the several degrees of dodsonship, is excellent; and so is the change in her behaviour towards maggie, whom, after having always bullied her, she takes up for the sake of dodsondom's credit when everybody else has turned against her.... [ ] "adam bede," i. . the writer does not seem to be aware that the fools and bores of a book, while they bore the other characters, ought not to bore but to amuse the reader, and that they will become seriously wearisome to him if there be too much of them. shakespeare has contented himself with showing us his dogberry and verges, his shallow and slender, and silence, to such a degree as may sufficiently display their humours; but he has not filled whole acts with them, and, even if he had, a five-act play is a small field for the display of prolix foolishness as compared with a three-volume novel. lord macaulay has been supposed to speak sarcastically in saying that he "would not advise any person who reads for amusement to venture on a certain _jeu d'esprit_ of mr. sadler's as long as he can procure a volume of the statutes at large";[ ] but we are afraid that we should not be believed if we were to mention the books to which _we_ have had recourse by way of occasional relief from the task of perusing "george eliot's" tales. [ ] "miscellaneous writings," ii. . in the case of "these emmet-like dodsons and tullivers," the authoress again defends her principle. "i share with you," she says, "the sense of oppressive narrowness; but it is necessary that we should feel it, if we care to understand how it acted on the lives of tom and maggie."[ ] we must confess that we care very little for tom and maggie, who, although the inscription on their tombstone and the motto on the title-page of the book tell us that "in their death they were not divided," do not strike us as having been "lovely and pleasant in their lives." we do not think the development of the brother and the sister a matter of any great interest; and, if it were, we believe that a sufficient ground might have been laid for our understanding it without so severely trying our patience by the details of the "sordid life" amid which their early years were spent. [ ] "the mill on the floss," ii. . another mistake, as it appears to us, is the too didactic strain into which the authoress occasionally falls--writing as if for the purpose of forcing lessons on children or the poor, rather than for grown-up and educated readers. the story of "janet's repentance" might, with the omission of a few passages such as the satirical flings at mr. tryan's female worshippers, be made into a very edifying little tract for some "evangelical" society. mr. tryan's opponents are all represented as brutes and monsters, drunkards and unclean, enemies of all goodness; while, with the usual unscrupulousness of party tract-writers, we are required to choose between an alliance with such infamous company and unreserved adhesion to the calvanistic curate, without being allowed any possibility of a third course. and, in addition to mr. tryan's victory, there is the conversion of mrs. dempster, not only from drunkenness to teetotalism (which might form the text for a set of illustrations by mr. cruikshank, in the moral style of his later days), but from hatred to love of the gospel according to mr. tryan. in its place we should not care to object to such a story, or to a great deal of the needless talk which it contains both of sinners and of saints; but we _do_ object to it in a book which is intended for the lighter reading of educated people, and the more so because we know that it comes from a writer who can feel nothing of the bitter but conscientious bigotry which the composition of such a story in good faith implies.... in reading of maggie's early indiscretions, we--hardened, grey-headed reviewers as we are--feel something like a renewal of the shame and mortification with which, long decades of years ago, we read of the weaknesses of frank and rosamond,--as if we ourselves were the little girl who made the mistake of choosing the big, bright-coloured bottle from the chemist's window, or the little boy who allowed himself to be deceived by the flattery of the lady in the draper's shop. in order that her hair may have no chance of appearing in curls on a great occasion (according to her mother's wish), maggie plunges her head into a basin of water. on getting an old dress and a bonnet from her unloved aunt glegg, she bastes the frock along with the roast beef on the following sunday, and souses the bonnet under the pump. in consequence of the continual remarks of her mother and aunts, about the un-dodsonlike colour of her hair, she cuts it all off. she makes the most deplorable exhibition of her literary vanity at every turn. out of spite she pushes her cousin lucy, when arrayed in the prettiest of dresses, into the "cow-trodden mud," and thereupon she runs off to a gang of gipsies, with the intention of becoming their queen,--an adventure from which we are glad that she is allowed to escape with less of suffering than miss edgeworth might perhaps have felt it a matter of duty to inflict on her. for the toms and maggies, the franks and rosamonds, of real life, such monitory anecdotes as these may be very good and useful; but it seems to us that they are out of place in a book intended for readers who have got beyond the early domestic schoolroom. we cannot praise the construction of these tales. the plots are very slight; the narrative drags painfully in some parts, and in other parts the authoress has recourse to very violent expedients, as where she brings in the "startling adelphi stage-effect" of the flood to drown tom and maggie, in order to escape from the unmanageable complication of her story. both in "adam bede" and in "the mill on the floss" the chief interest is over long before the tale comes to an end; and in looking at the whole series together we see something of repetition. thus, both tina and hetty set their hearts on a young man above their own position, and turn a deaf ear to a longer-known, more suitable, and worthier suitor. each disappears at a critical time, and each, after a disappointment in the higher quarter, falls back on a marriage with the humbler admirer; with the difference, however, that, as hetty had committed murder, and as tina had just been saved from doing so, the marriage in the first case never actually takes place, and in the second it ends after a few months. and as a smaller instance of repetition, we may compare the bedroom visit of the seraphic dinah morris to the earthly hetty with that of the pattern lucy deane to the tempestuous maggie tulliver. there is less of affectation in these books than in most of our recent novels, yet there is by far too much. among the portions which are most infected by this sin we may mention the description of scenery,--thanks, doubtless, in no small measure, to the influence of that very dangerous model mr. ruskin.... before concluding our article we must notice the authoress's views on two important subjects which enter largely into her stories--love and religion. that ladies, of their own accord and uninvited, fall in love with gentlemen is a common circumstance in novels written by ladies; and we are very much obliged to madame d'arblay, miss austen, and the other writers of the softer sex, who have let us into the knowledge of the important fact that such is the way in real life. but the peculiarity of "george eliot," among english novelists, is that in her books everybody falls in love with the wrong person. she seems to be continually on the point of showing us, with the author of "the rovers"-- how two swains one nymph her vows may give, and how two damsels with one lover live. love is represented as a passion conceived without any ground of reasonable preference, and as entirely irresistible in its sway. tina bestows her affections on captain wybrow, while the captain, without caring for anybody but himself, is paying his addresses to miss assher; and mr. gilfil is pining for tina, whom, if he had any discernment at all, he could not but see to be quite unfitted for him. adam bede is in love with the utterly undeserving hetty, while dinah morris and mary burge are both in love with adam, hetty with arthur donnithorne, and seth bede with dinah. at last, hetty is got out of the way, dinah comes to a clearer understanding of her feelings towards adam, and adam, on being made aware of this, is set on by his mother to make a successful proposal; but "quiet mary burge" subsides into a bridesmaid, and seth, the "poor wool-gatherin' methodist," is left without any other consolation than that of worshipping his sister-in-law. but it is in "the mill on the floss" that the unwholesome view which we have mentioned finds its most startling development. maggie is in love with philip, and philip with maggie; stephen guest is in love with lucy deane, and lucy with stephen, while at the same time she has an undeclared admirer in tom tulliver. but as soon as maggie and stephen become acquainted with each other, they exercise a powerful mutual attraction, and the mischief of love (as the passion is represented by our authoress) breaks loose in terrible force. the reproach which tom tulliver had coarsely thrown in philip's teeth, that he had taken advantage of maggie's inexperience to secure her affections before she had had any opportunity of comparing him with other men, turns out to be entirely just. stephen is a mere underbred coxcomb, and is intended to appear as such (for we do not think that the authoress has failed in any attempt to make him a gentleman); his only merit, in so far as we can discover, is a foolish talent for singing, and, except as to person, he is infinitely inferior to philip. but for this mere physical superiority the lofty-souled maggie prefers him to the lover whom she had before loved for his deformity; and the passion is represented as one which no considerations of moral or religious principle, no regard to the claims of others, no training derived from the hardships of her former life or from the ascetic system to which she had at one time been devoted, can withstand. here is a delicate scene, which is described as having taken place in a conservatory, to which the pair had withdrawn on the night of a ball:-- maggie bent her arm a little upward towards the large half-opened rose that had attracted her. who has not felt the beauty of a woman's arm? --the unspeakable suggestions of tenderness that lie in the dimpled elbow, and the varied gently-lessening curves down to the delicate wrist, with its tiniest, almost imperceptible nicks in the firm softness? a mad impulse seized on stephen; he darted towards the arm and showered kisses on it, clasping the wrist. but the next moment maggie snatched it from him, and glanced at him like a wounded war-goddess, quivering with rage and humiliation. "how dare you?" she spoke in a deeply-shaken, half-smothered voice: "what right have i given you to insult me?" she darted from him into the adjoining room, and threw herself on the sofa panting and trembling.[ ] [ ] iii. . we should not have blamed the young lady if, like one of mr. trollope's heroines, she had made her admirer feel not only "the beauty of a woman's arm," but its weight. but, unwarned by the grossness of his behaviour on this occasion, she is represented as admitting stephen to further intercourse; and, although she rescues herself at last, it is not until after having occasioned irreparable scandal. a good-natured ordinary novelist might have found an easy solution for the difficulties of the case at an earlier stage by marrying stephen to maggie, and handing over lucy (who is far too amiable to object to such a transfer) to her admiring cousin tom; while philip, left in celibacy, might either have been invested with a pathetic interest, or represented as justly punished for the offence of forestalling. but george eliot has higher aims than ordinary novelists, and to her the transfer which we have suggested would appear as a profanation. her characters, therefore, plunge into all manner of sacrifices of reputation and happiness; and it is not until maggie and tom have been drowned, and philip's whole life embittered, that we catch a final view of mr. stephen guest visiting the grave of the brother and sister in company with the amiable wife, _née_ lucy deane. if we are to accept the natural moral of this story, it shows how coarse and immoral a very fastidious and ultra-refined morality may become. it is with reluctance that we go on to notice the religion of these books; but since religion appears so largely in them, we must not decline the task. to us, at least, the theory of the writer's "high-church tendencies" could never have appeared plausible; for even in the "scenes of clerical life" the chief religious personage is the "evangelical" curate mr. tryan, and whatever good there is in his parish is confined to the circle of his partisans and converts; while in "adam bede" the methodess preacheress, dinah morris, is intended to shine with spotless and incomparable lustre. yet, although the highest characters, in a religious view, are drawn from "evangelicism" and methodism, we find that neither of these systems is set forth as enough to secure the perfection of everybody who may choose to profess it.... mr. parry, although agreeing with mr. tryan in opinion, is represented as no less unpopular and inefficient than mr. tryan was the reverse; and the reverend amos barton is a hopeless specimen of that variety of "evangelical" clergymen to which the late mr. conybeare gave the name of "low and slow,"--a variety which, we believe, flourishes chiefly in the midland counties. on the other hand, mr. gilfil and mr. irwine, clergymen of the "old school," are held up as objects for our respect and love; and mr. irwine is not only vindicated by adam bede in his old age, in comparison with his evangelical successor mr. ryde, but the question between high and low church, as represented by these two, is triumphantly settled by a quotation which adam brings from our old friend mrs. poyser:-- mrs. poyser used to say--you know she would have her word about everything--she said mr. irwine was like a good meal o' victual, you were the better for him without thinking on it; and mr. ryde was like a dose o' physic, he griped and worrited you, and after all he left you much the same.[ ] [ ] "adam bede," i. . in "the mill on the floss," too, the "brazen" mr. stelling is represented as "evangelical," in so far as he is anything; while dr. kenn, a very high anglican, is spoken of with all veneration; although, perhaps, "george eliot's" opinion as to the efficiency of the high anglican clergy may be gathered from the circumstance that when the doctor interferes for the benefit of maggie tulliver, he not only fails to be of any use, but exposes himself to something like the same kind of gossip which had arisen from mr. amos barton's hospitality to madame czerlaski. as to methodism, again, the reader need hardly be reminded of the sayings which we have quoted from mrs. poyser. and while the feeble and "wool-gathering" seth bede becomes a convert, the strong-minded adam holds out, even although he is so tolerant as to marry a female methodist preacher, and to let her enjoy her "liberty of prophesying" until stopped by a general order of the wesleyan conference. from all these things the natural inference would seem to be that the authoress is neither high-church nor low-church nor dissenter, but a tolerant member of what is styled the broad-church party--a party in which we are obliged to say that breadth and toleration are by no means universal. it would seem that, instead of being exclusively devoted to any one of the religious types which she has embodied in the persons of her tales (for as yet she has not presented us with a clergyman of any liberal school), she regards each of them as containing an element of pure christianity, which, although in any one of them it may be alloyed by its adjuncts and by the faults of individuals, is in itself of inestimable value, and may be held alike by persons who differ widely from each other as to the forms of religious polity and as to details of christian doctrine. but what is to be thought of the fact that the authoress of these tales is also the translator of strauss's notorious book? is the gospel which she has represented in so many attractive lights nothing better to her, after all, than "fabula ista de christo"? are the various forms under which she has exhibited it no more for her than the mahometan and hindoo systems were for the poet of thalaba and kehama? has she been carrying out in these novels the precepts of that chapter in which dr. strauss teaches his disciples how, while believing the new testament narrative to be merely mythical, they may yet discharge the functions of the christian preacher without exposing themselves by their language to any imputation of unsoundness? but, even apart from this distressing question, there is much to interfere with the hope and the interest with which we should wish to look forward to the future career of a writer so powerful and so popular as the authoress of these books--much to awaken very serious apprehensions as to the probable effect of her influence. no one who has looked at all into our late fictitious literature can have failed to be struck with the fondness of many of the writers of the day for subjects which at an earlier time would not have been thought of, or would have been carefully avoided. the idea that fiction should contain something to soothe, to elevate, or to purify seems to be extinct. in its stead there is a love for exploring what would be better left in obscurity; for portraying the wildness of passion and the harrowing miseries of mental conflict; for dark pictures of sin and remorse and punishment; for the discussion of questions which it is painful and revolting to think of. by some writers such themes are treated with a power which fascinates even those who most disapprove the manner in which it is exercised; by others with a feebleness which shows that the infection has spread even to the most incapable of the contributors to our circulating libraries. to us the influence of the "jack shepherd" school of literature is really far less alarming than that of a class of books which is more likely to find its way into the circles of cultivated readers, and, most especially, to familiarize the minds of our young women in the middle and higher ranks with matters on which their fathers and brothers would never venture to speak in their presence. it is really frightful to think of the interest which we have ourselves heard such readers express in criminals like paul ferroll, and in sensual ruffians like mr. rochester: and there is much in the writings of "george eliot" which, on like grounds, we feel ourselves bound most earnestly to condemn. let all honour be paid to those who in our time have laboured to search out and to make known such evils of our social condition as christian sympathy may in some degree relieve or cure. but we do not believe that any good end is to be effected by fictions which fill the mind with details of imaginary vice and distress and crime, or which teach it--instead of endeavouring after the fulfilment of simple and ordinary duty--to aim at the assurance of superiority by creating for itself fanciful and incomprehensible perplexities. rather we believe that the effect of such fictions must be to render those who fall under their influence unfit for practical exertion; while they most assuredly do grievous harm in many cases, by intruding on minds which ought to be guarded from impurity the unnecessary knowledge of evil. blackwood's magazine in the early days of the nineteenth century edinburgh certainly aspired to prouder eminence as a centre of light and learning than it has continued to maintain. tory energy, provoked by the arrogance of jeffrey, had found its earliest expression in london, but the northern capital evidently determined not to be left behind in the game of unprincipled vituperation. _blackwood_, unlike its rivals in infancy, was issued monthly, and its closely printed double columns add something to the impression of heaviness in its satire. john wilson ( - ) there is admittedly something incongruous in any association between the genial and laughter-loving christopher north and the reputation incurred by the periodical with which he was long so intimately associated. he had contributed--as few of his confederates would have been permitted-- to the _edinburgh_; but he was literary editor to _blackwood_ from october, , to september, . originally a disciple of the lake school, at whom he was frequently girding, he migrated to edinburgh (where he became professor of moral philosophy in ), and attracted to himself many brilliant men of letters, including de quincey. the "mountain-looking fellow," as dickens called him, the patron of "cock-fighting, wrestling, pugilistic contests, boat-racing, and horse-racing" left his mark on his generation for a unique combination of boisterous joviality and hardhitting. well known in the houses of the poor; more than one observer has said that he reminded them of the "first man, adam." he "swept away all hearts, withersoever he would." "thor and balder in one," "very goth," "a norse demigod," "hair of the true sicambrian yellow"; carlyle describes him as "fond of all stimulating things; from tragic poetry down to whiskey-punch. he snuffed and smoked cigars and drank liqueurs, and talked in the most indescribable style.... he is a broad sincere man of six feet, with long dishevelled flax-coloured hair, and two blue eyes keen as an eagle's ... a being all split into precipitous chasms and the wildest volcanic tumults ... a noble, loyal, and religious nature, not _strong_ enough to vanquish the perverse element it is born into." the foundation of wilson's criticism, unlike most of his contemporaries, was generous and wide-minded appreciation, yet he "hacked about him, distributing blows right and left, delivered sometimes for fun, though sometimes with the most extraordinary impulse of perversity, in the impetus of his career." with all a boy's love of a good fight, he shared with youth its thoughtless indifference to the consequences. his not altogether unfriendly criticisms inspired one of tennyson's lightest effusions-- you did late review my lays, crusty christopher; you did mingle blame and praise rusty christopher. when i learnt from whence it came, i forgave you all the blame, musty christopher; i could not forgive the praise fusty christopher. the _noctes ambrosianae_ is certainly a unique production. though ostensibly a dialogue mainly between himself, tickler (i.e., lockhart), and hogg the ettrick shepherd--with other occasional dramatis personae; the main bulk of them (including everything here quoted) was written by wilson himself--in this form, to produce an original effect. the conversations are, for the most part, thoroughly dramatic, and cover every conceivable subject from politics and literature to the beauty of scenery, dress, cookery, and the various sports beloved of christopher. there is much boisterous interruption for eating, drinking, and personal chaff. of the longer quotations selected we would particularly draw attention to the humorous and epigrammatic parody of wordsworth, on whom wilson elsewhere bestows generous enthusiasm; and the broad-minded outlook which can appreciate the contrasted virility of byron and dr. johnson. but it would be impossible to give an approximately fair impression of the _noctes_, without many examples of those paragraph criticisms scattered broadcast on every page, which we have presented as "crumbs" from the feast. the magnificent recantation to leigh hunt--on whom _blackwood_ had bestowed even more than its share of abuse--has passed into a proverb. anonymous as in the case of the _quarterly_ these untraced effusions may be assigned, with fair confidence, to the principal originators of the magazine: wilson himself, lockhart, and william maginn ( - ), a thriftless irishman who helped to start _fraser's magazine_ in , and stood for captain shandon in pendennis; author of _bob burke's duel with ensign brady_, "perhaps the raciest irish story ever written." they almost certainly combined in the heated attack on "the cockney school," of which leigh hunt's generous, but not always judicious, advertisement was an obvious temptation to satire, embittered by political bias. coleridge, also, provided easy material for scorn from vigorous manhood; and shelley, as wilson remarks elsewhere, was "the greatest sinner of the oracular school--because the only true poet." christopher north on pope[ ] [ ] a discussion of the edition by bowles. [from _noctes ambrosianae_, march, ] _tickler._ pope was one of the most amiable men that ever lived. fine and delicate as were the temper and temperament of his genius, he had a heart capable of the warmest human affection. he was indeed a loving creature. _north._ come, come, timothy, you know you were sorely cut an hour or two ago--so do not attempt characteristics. but, after all, bowles does not say that pope was unamiable. _tickler._ yes, he does--that is to say, no man can read, even now, all that he has written about pope, without thinking on the whole, somewhat indifferently of the man pope. it is for this i abuse our friend bowles. _shepherd._ ay, ay--i recollect now some of the havers o' boll's about the blounts,--martha and theresa, i think you call them. puir wee bit hunched-backed, windle-strae-legged, gleg-eed, clever, acute, ingenious, sateerical, weel-informed, warm-hearted, real philosophical, and maist poetical creature, wi' his sounding translation o' a' homer's works, that reads just like an original war-yepic,--his yessay on man that, in spite o' what a set o' ignoramuses o' theological critics say about bolingbroke and croussass, and heterodoxy and atheism, and like haven, is just-ane o' the best moral discourses that ever i heard in or out o' the poupit,--his yepistles about the passions, and sic like, in the whilk he goes baith deep and high, far deeper and higher baith than mony a modern poet, who must needs be either in a diving-bell or a balloon,-- his rape o' the lock o' hair, wi' a' these sylphs floating about in the machinery o' the rosicrucian philosophism, just perfectly yelegant and gracefu', and as gude, in their way, as onything o' my ain about fairies, either in the _queen's wake_ or _queen hynde_,--his louisa to abelard is, as i said before, coorse in the subject-matter, but, o sirs! powerfu' and pathetic in execution--and sic a perfect spate o' versification! his unfortunate lady, who sticked hersel for love wi' a drawn sword, and was afterwards seen as a ghost, dim-beckoning through the shade--a verra poetical thocht surely, and full both of terror and pity.... _north._ pope's poetry is full of nature, at least of what i have been in the constant habit of accounting nature for the last threescore and ten years. but (thank you, james, that snuff is really delicious) leaving nature and art, and all that sort of thing, i wish to ask a single question: what poet of this age, with the exception, perhaps, of byron, can be justly said, when put in comparison with pope, to have written the english language at all.... _tickler._ what would become of bowles himself, with all his elegance, pathos, and true feeling? oh! dear me, james, what a dull, dozing, disjointed, dawdling, dowdy of a drawe would be his muse, in her very best voice and tune, when called upon to get up and sing a solo after the sweet and strong singer of twickenham! _north._ or wordsworth--with his eternal--here we go up, and up, and up, and here we go down, down, and here we go roundabout, roundabout!--look at the nerveless laxity of his _excursion!_--what interminable prosing!-- the language is out of condition:--fat and fozy, thick-winded, purfled and plethoric. can he be compared with pope?--fie on't! no, no, no!-- pugh, pugh! _tickler._ southey--coleridge--moore? _north._ no; not one of them. they are all eloquent, diffusive, rich, lavish, generous, prodigal of their words. but so are they all deficient in sense, muscle, sinew, thews, ribs, spine. pope, as an artist, beats them hollow. catch him twaddling. _tickler._ it is a bad sign of the intellect of an age to depreciate the genius of a country's classics. but the attempt covers such critics with shame, and undying ridicule pursues them and their abettors. the lake poets began this senseless clamour against the genius of pope. on byron [from _noctes ambrosianae_, october, ] _north._ people say, james, that byron's tragedies are failures. fools! is cain, the dark, dim, disturbed, insane, hell-haunted cain, a failure? is sardanapalus, the passionate, princely, philosophical, joy-cheated, throne-wearied voluptuary, a failure? is heaven and earth, that magnificent confusion of two worlds, in which mortal beings mingle in love and hate, joy and despair, with immortal--the children of the dust claiming alliance with the radiant progeny of the skies, till man and angel seem to partake of one divine being, and to be essences eternal in bliss or bale--is heaven and earth, i ask you, james, a failure? if so, then appollo has stopt payment--promising a dividend of one shilling in the pound--and all concerned in that house are bankrupts. _tickler._ you have nobly--gloriously vindicated byron, north, and in doing so, have vindicated the moral and intellectual character of our country. miserable and pernicious creed, that holds possible the lasting and intimate union of the first, purest, highest, noblest, and most celestial powers of soul and spirit, with confirmed appetencies, foul and degrading lust, cowardice, cruelty, meanness, hypocrisy, avarice, and impiety! you,--in a strong attempt made to hold up to execration the nature of byron as deformed by all these hideous vices,--you, my friend, reverently unveiled the countenance of the mighty dead, and the lineaments struck remorse into the heart of every asperser. on dr. johnson [from _noctes ambrosianae_, april, ] _north._ i forgot old sam--a jewel rough set, yet shining like a star, and though sand-blind by nature, and bigoted by education, one of the truly great men of england, and "her men are of men the chief," alike in the dominions of the understanding, the reason, the passions, and the imagination. no prig shall ever persuade me that _rasselas_ is not a noble performance--in design and execution. never were the expenses of a mother's funeral more gloriously defrayed by son, than the funeral of samuel johnson's mother by the price of _rasselas_, written for the pious purpose of laying her head decently and honourably in the dust. _shepherd._ ay, that was pittin' literature and genius to a glorious purpose indeed; and therefore nature and religion smiled on the wark, and have stamped it with immortality. _north._ samuel was seventy years old when he wrote the _lives of the poets_. _shepherd._ what a fine old buck! no unlike yoursel'. _north._ would it were so! he had his prejudicies, and his partialities, and his bigotries, and his blindnesses,--but on the same fruit-tree you see shrivelled pears or apples on the same branch with jargonelles or golden pippins worthy of paradise. which would ye show to the horticultural society as a fair specimen of the tree? _shepherd._ good, kit, good--philosophically picturesque. (_mimicking the old man's voice and manner._) _north._ show me the critique that beats his on pope, and on dryden-- nay, even on milton; and hang me if you may not read his essay on shakespeare even after having read charles lamb, or heard coleridge, with increased admiration of the powers of all three, and of their insight, through different avenues, and as it might seem almost with different bodily and mental organs, into shakespeare's "old exhausted," and his "new imagined worlds." he was a critic and a moralist who would have been wholly wise, had he not been partly--constitutionally insane. for there is blood in the brain, james--even in the organ--the vital principle of all our "eagle-winged raptures"; and there was a taint of the black drop of melancholy in his. _shepherd._ wheesht--wheesht--let us keep aff that subject. all men ever i knew are mad; and but for that law o' natur, never, never, in this warld had there been a _noctes ambrosianae_. crumbs from the "noctes" miss mitford _north._ miss mitford has not in my opinion either the pathos or humour of washington irving; but she excels him in vigorous conception of character, and in the truth of her pictures of english life and manners. her writings breathe a sound, pure, and healthy morality, and are pervaded by a genuine rural spirit--the spirit of merry england. every line bespeaks the lady. _shepherd._ i admire miss mitford just excessively. i dinna wunner at her being able to write sae weel as she does about drawing-rooms wi' sofas and settees, and about the fine folk in them seeing themsels in lookin-glasses frae tap to tae; but what puzzles the like o' me, is her pictures o' poachers, and tinklers, and pottery-trampers, and ither neerdoweels, and o' huts and hovels without riggin' by the wayside, and the cottages o' honest puir men, and byres, and barns, and stackyards, and merry-makins at winter ingles, and courtship aneath trees, and at the gable-end of farm houses, 'tween lads and lasses as laigh in life as the servants in her father's ha'. that's the puzzle, and that's the praise. but ae word explains a'--genius--genius, wull a' the metafhizzians in the warld ever expound that mysterious monosyllable.-- _nov, ._ hazlitt _shepherd._. he had a curious power that hazlitt, as he was ca'd, o' simulatin' sowl. you could hae taen your bible oath sometimes, when you were readin him, that he had a sowl--a human sowl--a sowl to be saved-- but then, heaven preserve us! in the verra middle aiblins o' a paragraph, he grew transformed afore your verra face into something bestial,--you heard a grunt that made ye grue, and there was an ill smell in the room, as frae a pluff o' sulphur.--_april, ._ wordsworth _shepherd._ wordsworth tells the world, in ane of his prefaces, that he is a water-drinker--and its weel seen on him.--there was a sair want of speerit through the haill o' yon lang "excursion." if he had just made the paragraphs about ae half shorter, and at the end of every ane taen a caulker, like ony ither man engaged in geyan sair and heavy wark, think na ye that his "excursion" would hae been far less fatiguesome?--_april, ._ _north._ i confess that the "excursion" is the worst poem, of any character, in the english language. it contains about two hundred sonorous lines, some of which appear to be fine, even in the sense, as well as sound. the remaining seven thousand three hundred are quite ineffectual. then, what labour the builder of that lofty rhyme must have undergone! it is, in its own way, a small tower of babel, and all built by a single man.--_sept., ._ coleridge _north._ james, you don't know s.t. coleridge--do you? he writes but indifferent books, begging his pardon: witness his "friend," his "lay sermons," and, latterly, his "aids to reflection"; but he becomes inspired by the sound of his own silver voice, and pours out wisdom like a sea. had he a domestic gurney, he might publish a moral essay, or a theological discourse, or a metaphysical disquisition, or a political harangue, every morning throughout the year during his lifetime. _tickler._ mr. coleridge does not seem to be aware that he cannot write a book, but opines that he absolutely has written several, and set many questions at rest. there's a want of some kind or another in his mind; but perhaps when he awakes out of his dream, he may get rational and sober-witted, like other men, who are not always asleep. _shepherd._ the author o' "christabel," and "the ancient mariner," had better just continue to see visions, and dream dreams--for he's no fit for the wakin' world.--_april, ._ fashionable novels _north._ james, i wish you would review for maga all those fashionable novels--novels of high life; such as _pelham_--the _disowned_. _shepherd._ i've read thae twa, and they're baith gude. but the mair i think on't, the profounder is my conviction that the strength o' human nature lies either in the highest or lowest estate of life. characters in books should either be kings, and princes, and nobles, and on a level with them, like heroes; or peasants, shepherds, farmers, and the like, includin' a' orders amaist o' our ain working population. the intermediate class--that is, leddies and gentlemen in general--are no worth the muse's while; for their life is made up chiefly o' mainners,-- mainners,--mainners;--you canna see the human creters for their claes; and should ane o' them commit suicide in despair, in lookin' on the dead body, you are mair taen up wi' its dress than its decease.--_march, ._ will carleton _shepherd._ what sort o' vols., sir, are the _traits and stories of the irish peasantry_ [w. carleton], published by curry in dublin. _north._ admirable. truly, intensely irish. the whole book has the brogue--never were the outrageous whimsicalities of that strange, wild, imaginative people so characteristically displayed; nor, in the midst of all the fun, frolic, and folly, is there any dearth of poetry, pathos, and passion. the author's a jewel, and he will be reviewed next number. --_may, ._ burns _shepherd._ i shanna say ony o' mine's [songs] are as gude as some sax or aucht o' burns's--for about that number o' robbie's are o' inimitable perfection. it was heaven's wull that in them he should transcend a' the minnesingers o' this warld. but they're too perfeckly beautifu' to be envied by mortal man--therefore let his memory in them be hallowed for evermair.--_august, ._ _shepherd_. i was wrang in ever hintin ae word in disparagement o' burn's _cottar's saturday night_. but the truth is, you see, that the subjeck's sae heeped up wi' happiness, and sae charged wi' a' sort o' sanctity--sae national and sae scottish--that beautifu' as the poem is-- and really, after a', naething can be mair beautifu'--there's nae satisfying either paesant or shepherd by ony delineation o't, though drawn in lines o' licht, and shinin' equally w' genius and wi' piety.-- _nov., ._ leigh hunt _shepherd_. leigh hunt truly loved shelley. _north_. and shelley truly loved leigh hunt. their friendship was honourable to them both, for it was as disinterested as sincere; and i hope gurney will let a certain person in the city understand that i treat his offer of a reviewal of mr. hunt's _london journal_ with disdain. if he has anything to say against us or against that gentleman, either conjunctly or severally, let him out with it in some other channel, and i promise him a touch and taste of the crutch. he talks to me of maga's desertion of principle; but if he were a christian--nay, a man--his heart and head too would tell him that the animosities are mortal, but the humanities live for ever--and that leigh hunt has more talent in his little finger than the puling prig, who has taken upon himself to lecture christopher north in a scrawl crawling with forgotten falsehoods. mr. hunt's _london journal_, may dear james, is not only beyond all comparison, but out of all sight, the most entertaining and instructive of all the cheap periodicals; and when laid, as it duly is once a week, on my breakfast table, it lies there--but is not permitted to lie long--like a spot of sunshine dazzling the snow.--_aug_., . anonymous on coleridge [from _blackwood's magazine_, october, ] some observations on the "biographia literaria" of s. t. coleridge, esq., when a man looks back on his past existence, and endeavours to recall the incidents, events, thoughts, feelings, and passions of which it was composed, he sees something like a glimmering land of dreams, peopled with phantasms and realities undistinguishably confused and intermingled--here illuminated with dazzling splendour, there dim with melancholy mists,--or it may be shrouded in impenetrable darkness. to bring, visibly and distinctly before our memory, on the one hand, all our hours of mirth and joy, and hope and exultation,--and, on the other, all our perplexities, and fears and sorrows, and despair and agony,-- (and who has been so uniformly wretched as not to have been often blest?--who so uniformly blest as not to have been often wretched?)-- would be as impossible as to awaken, into separate remembrance, all the changes and varieties which the seasons brought over the material world,--every gleam of sunshine that beautified the spring,--every cloud and tempest that deformed the winter. in truth, were this power and domination over the past given unto us, and were we able to read the history of our lives all faithfully and perspicuously recorded on the tablets of the inner spirit,--those beings, whose existence had been most filled with important events and with energetic passions, would be the most averse to such overwhelming survey--would recoil from trains of thought which formerly agitated and disturbed, and led them, as it were, in triumph beneath the yoke of misery or happiness. the soul may be repelled from the contemplation of the past as much by the brightness and magnificence of scenes that shifted across the glorious drama of youth, as by the storms that scattered the fair array into disfigured fragments; and the melancholy that breathes from vanished delight is, perhaps, in its utmost intensity, as unendurable as the wretchedness left by the visitation of calamity. there are spots of sunshine sleeping on the fields of past existence too beautiful, as there are caves among its precipices too darksome to be looked on by the eyes of memory; and to carry on an image borrowed from the analogy between the moral and physical world, the soul may turn away in sickness from the untroubled silence of a resplendent lake, no less than from the haunted gloom of the thundering cataract. it is from such thoughts, and dreams, and reveries, as these, that all men feel how terrible it would be to live over again their agonies and their transports; that the happiest would fear to do so as much as the most miserable; and that to look back to our cradle seems scarcely less awful than to look forward to the grave. but if this unwillingness to bring before our souls, in distinct array, the more solemn and important events of our lives, be a natural and perhaps a wise feeling, how much more averse must every reflecting man be to the ransacking of his inmost spirit for all its hidden emotions and passions, to the tearing away that shroud which oblivion may have kindly flung over his vices and his follies, or that fine and delicate veil which christian humility draws over his virtues and acts of benevolence. to scrutinize and dissect the character of others is an idle and unprofitable task; and the most skilful anatomist will often be forced to withhold his hand when he unexpectedly meets with something he does not understand--some confirmation of the character of his patient which is not explicable on his theory of human nature. to become operators on our own shrinking spirits is something worse; for by probing the wounds of the soul, what can ensue but callousness or irritability. and it may be remarked, that those persons who have busied themselves most with inquiries into the causes, and motives, and impulses of their actions, have exhibited, in their conduct, the most lamentable contrast to their theory, and have seemed blinder in their knowledge than others in their ignorance. it will not be supposed that any thing we have now said in any way bears against the most important duty of self-examination. many causes there are existing, both in the best and the worst parts of our nature, which must render nugatory and deceitful any continued diary of what passes through the human soul; and no such confessions could, we humbly conceive, be of use either to ourselves or to the world. but there are hours of solemn inquiry in which the soul reposes on itself; the true confessional is not the bar of the public, but it is the altar of religion; there is a being before whom we may humble ourselves without being debased; and there are feelings for which human language has no expression, and which, in the silence of solitude and of nature, are known only unto the eternal. the objections, however, which might thus be urged against the writing and publishing accounts of all our feelings,--all the changes of our moral constitution,--do not seem to apply with equal force to the narration of our mere speculative opinions. their rise, progress, changes, and maturity may be pretty accurately ascertained; and as the advance to truth is generally step by step, there seems to be no great difficulty in recording the leading causes that have formed the body of our opinions, and created, modified, and coloured our intellectual character. yet this work would be alike useless to ourselves and others, unless pursued with a true magnanimity. it requires, that we should stand aloof from ourselves, and look down, as from an eminence, on our souls toiling up the hill of knowledge;--that we should faithfully record all the assistance we received from guides or brother pilgrims;-- that we should mask the limit of our utmost ascent, and, without exaggeration, state the value of our acquisitions. when we consider how many temptations there are even here to delude ourselves, and by a seeming air of truth and candour to impose upon others, it will be allowed, that, instead of composing memoirs of himself, a man of genius and talent would be far better employed in generalizing the observations and experiences of his life, and giving them to the world in the form of philosophic reflections, applicable not to himself alone, but to the universal mind of man. what good to mankind has ever flowed from the confessions of rousseau, or the autobiographical sketch of hume? from the first we rise with a confused and miserable sense of weakness and of power--of lofty aspirations and degrading appetencies--of pride swelling into blasphemy, and humiliation pitiably grovelling in the dust--of purity of spirit soaring on the wings of imagination, and grossness of instinct brutally wallowing in "epicurus' stye,"--of lofty contempt for the opinion of mankind, yet the most slavish subjection to their most fatal prejudices-- of a sublime piety towards god, and a wild violation of his holiest laws. from the other we rise with feelings of sincere compassion for the ignorance of the most enlightened. all the prominent features of hume's character were invisible to his own eyes; and in that meagre sketch which has been so much admired, what is there to instruct, to rouse, or to elevate--what light thrown over the duties of this life or the hopes of that to come? we wish to speak with tenderness of a man whose moral character was respectable, and whose talents were of the first order. but most deeply injurious to every thing lofty and high-toned in human virtue, to every thing cheering, and consoling, and sublime in that faith which sheds over this earth a reflection of the heavens, is that memoir of a worldly-wise man; in which he seems to contemplate with indifference the extinction of his own immortal soul, and jibes and jokes on the dim and awful verge of eternity. we hope that our readers will forgive these very imperfect reflections on a subject of deep interest, and accompany us now on our examination of mr. coleridge's "literary life," the very singular work which caused our ideas to run in that channel. it does not contain an account of his opinions and literary exploits alone, but lays open, not unfrequently, the character of the man as well as of the author; and we are compelled to think, that while it strengthens every argument against the composition of such memoirs, it does, without benefiting the cause either of virtue, knowledge, or religion, exhibit many mournful sacrifices of personal dignity, after which it seems impossible that mr. coleridge can be greatly respected either by the public or himself. considered merely in a literary point of view, the work is most execrable. he rambles from one subject to another in the most wayward and capricious manner; either from indolence, or ignorance, or weakness, he has never in one single instance finished a discussion; and while he darkens what was dark before into tenfold obscurity, he so treats the most ordinary common-places as to give them the air of mysteries, till we no longer know the faces of our old acquaintances beneath their cowl and hood, but witness plain flesh and blood matters of fact miraculously converted into a troop of phantoms. that he is a man of genius is certain; but he is not a man of a strong intellect nor of powerful talents. he has a great deal of fancy and imagination, but little or no real feeling, and certainly no judgment. he cannot form to himself any harmonious landscape such as it exists in nature, but beautified by the serene light of the imagination. he cannot conceive simple and majestic groupes of human figures and characters acting on the theatre of real existence. but his pictures of nature are fine only as imaging the dreaminess, and obscurity, and confusion of distempered sleep; while all his agents pass before our eyes like shadows, and only impress and affect us with a phantasmagorial splendour. it is impossible to read many pages of this work without thinking that mr. coleridge conceives himself to be a far greater man than the public is likely to admit; and we wish to waken him from what seems to us a most ludicrous delusion. he seems to believe that every tongue is wagging in his praise--that every ear is open to imbibe the oracular breathings of his inspiration. even when he would fain convince us that his soul is wholly occupied with some other illustrious character, he breaks out into laudatory exclamations concerning himself; no sound is so sweet to him as that of his own voice; the ground is hallowed on which his footsteps tread; and there seems to him something more than human in his very shadow. he will read no books that other people read; his scorn is as misplaced and extravagant as his admiration; opinions that seem to tally with his own wild ravings are holy and inspired; and unless agreeable to his creed, the wisdom of ages is folly; and wits, whom the world worship, dwarfed when they approach his venerable side. his admiration of nature or of man, we had almost said his religious feelings towards his god, are all narrowed, weakened, and corrupted, and poisoned by inveterate and diseased egotism; and instead of his mind reflecting the beauty and glory of nature, he seems to consider the mighty universe itself as nothing better than a mirror in which, with a grinning and idiot self-complacency, he may contemplate the physiognomy of samuel taylor coleridge. though he has yet done nothing in any one department of human knowledge, yet he speaks of his theories, and plans, and views, and discoveries, as if he had produced some memorable revolution in science. he at all times connects his own name in poetry with shakespeare, and spenser, and milton; in politics with burke, and fox, and pitt; in metaphysics with locke, and hartley, and berkely, and kant--feeling himself not only to be the worthy compeer of those illustrious spirits, but to unite, in his own mighty intellect, all the glorious powers and faculties by which they were separately distinguished, as if his soul were endowed with all human power, and was the depository of the aggregate, or rather the essence of all human knowledge. so deplorable a delusion as this, has only been equalled by that of joanna southcote, who mistook a complaint in the bowels for the divine afflatus; and believed herself about to give birth to the regenerator of the world, when sick unto death of an incurable and loathsome disease. the truth is that mr. coleridge is but an obscure name in english literature. in london he is well known in literary society, and justly admired for his extraordinary loquacity: he has his own little circle of devoted worshippers, and he mistakes their foolish babbling for the voice of the world. his name, too, has been often foisted into reviews, and accordingly is known to many who never saw any of his works. in scotland few know or care any thing about him; and perhaps no man who has spoken and written so much, and occasionally with so much genius and ability, ever made so little impression on the public mind. few people know how to spell or pronounce his name; and were he to drop from the clouds among any given number of well informed and intelligent men north of the tweed, he would find it impossible to make any intelligible communication respecting himself; for of him and his writings there would prevail only a perplexing dream, or the most untroubled ignorance. we cannot see in what the state of literature would have been different had he been cut off in childhood, or had he never been born; for except a few wild and fanciful ballads, he has produced nothing worthy remembrance. yet, insignificant as he assuredly is, he cannot put pen to paper without a feeling that millions of eyes are fixed upon him; and he scatters his sibylline leaves around him, with as majestical an air as if a crowd of enthusiastic admirers were rushing forward to grasp the divine promulgations, instead of their being, as in fact they are, coldly received by the accidental passenger, like a lying lottery puff or a quack advertisement. this most miserable arrogance seems, in the present age, confined almost exclusively to the original members of the lake school, and is, we think, worthy of especial notice, as one of the leading features of their character. it would be difficult to defend it either in southey or wordsworth; but in coleridge it is altogether ridiculous. southey has undoubtedly written four noble poems--thalaba, madoc, kehama, and roderick; and if the poets of this age are admitted, by the voice of posterity, to take their places by the side of the mighty of former times in the temple of immortality, he will be one of that sacred company. wordsworth, too, with all his manifold errors and defects, has, we think, won to himself a great name, and, in point of originality, will be considered as second to no man of this age. they are entitled to think highly of themselves, in comparison with their most highly gifted contemporaries; and therefore, though their arrogance may be offensive, as it often is, it is seldom or ever utterly ridiculous. but mr. coleridge stands on much lower ground, and will be known to future times only as a man who overrated and abused his talents--who saw glimpses of that glory which he could not grasp--who presumptuously came forward to officiate as high-priest at mysteries beyond his ken--and who carried himself as if he had been familiarly admitted into the penetralia of nature, when in truth he kept perpetually stumbling at the very threshold. this absurd self-elevation forms a striking contrast with the dignified deportment of all the other great living poets. throughout all the works of scott, the most original-minded man of this generation of poets, scarcely a single allusion is made to himself; and then it is with a truly delightful simplicity, as if he were not aware of his immeasurable superiority to the ordinary run of mankind. from the rude songs of our forefathers he has created a kind of poetry, which at once brought over the dull scenes of this our unimaginative life all the pomp, and glory, and magnificence of a chivalrous age. he speaks to us like some ancient bard awakened from his tomb, and singing of visions not revealed in dreams, but contemplated in all the freshness and splendour of reality. since he sung his bold, and wild, and romantic lays, a more religious solemnity breathes from our mouldering abbeys, and a sterner grandeur frowns over our time-shattered castles. he has peopled our hills with heroes, even as ossian peopled them; and, like a presiding spirit, his image haunts the magnificent cliffs of our lakes and seas. and if he be, as every heart feels, the author of those noble prose works that continue to flash upon the world, to him exclusively belongs the glory of wedding fiction and history in delighted union, and of embodying in imperishable records the manners, character, soul, and spirit of caledonia; so that, if all her annals were lost, her memory would in those tales be immortal. his truly is a name that comes to the heart of every briton with a start of exultation, whether it be heard in the hum of cities or in the solitude of nature. what has campbell ever obtruded on the public of his private history? yet his is a name that will be hallowed for ever in the souls of pure, and aspiring, and devout youth; and to those lofty contemplations in which poetry lends its aid to religion, his immortal muse will impart a more enthusiastic glow, while it blends in one majestic hymn all the noblest feelings which can spring from earth, with all the most glorious hopes that come from the silence of eternity. byron indeed speaks of himself often, but his is like the voice of an angel heard crying in the storm or the whirlwind; and we listen with a kind of mysterious dread to the tones of a being whom we scarcely believe to be kindred to ourselves, while he sounds the depths of our nature, and illuminates them with the lightnings of his genius. and finally, who more gracefully unostentatious than moore, a poet who has shed delight, and joy, and rapture, and exultation, through the spirit of an enthusiastic people, and whose name is associated in his native land with every thing noble and glorious in the cause of patriotism and liberty. we could easily add to the illustrious list; but suffice it to say, that our poets do in general bear their faculties meekly and manfully, trusting to their conscious powers, and the susceptibility of generous and enlightened natures, not yet extinct in britain, whatever mr. coleridge may think; for certain it is, that a host of worshippers will crowd into the temple, when the priest is inspired, and the flame he kindles is from heaven. such has been the character of great poets in all countries and in all times. fame is dear to them as their vital existence--but they love it not with the perplexity of fear, but the calmness of certain possession. they know that the debt which nature owes them must be paid, and they hold in surety thereof the universal passions of mankind. so milton felt and spoke of himself, with an air of grandeur, and the voice as of an archangel, distinctly hearing in his soul the music of after generations, and the thunder of his mighty name rolling through the darkness of futurity. so divine shakespeare felt and spoke; he cared not for the mere acclamations of his subjects; in all the gentleness of his heavenly spirit he felt himself to be their prophet and their king, and knew, when all the breathers of this world are dead, that he entombed in men's eyes would lie. indeed, who that knows any thing of poetry could for a moment suppose it otherwise? whatever made a great poet but the inspiration of delight and love in himself, and an empassioned desire to communicate them to the wide spirit of kindred existence? poetry, like religion, must be free from all grovelling feelings; and above all, from jealousy, envy, and uncharitableness. and the true poet, like the preacher of the true religion, will seek to win unto himself and his faith, a belief whose foundation is in the depths of love, and whose pillars are the noblest passions of humanity. it would seem that in truly great souls all feeling of self-importance, in its narrower sense, must be incompatible with the consciousness of a mighty achievement. the idea of the mere faculty or power is absorbed as it were in the idea of the work performed. that work stands out in its glory from the mind of its creator; and in the contemplation of it, he forgets that he himself was the cause of its existence, or feels only a dim but sublime association between himself and the object of his admiration; and when he does think of himself in conjunction with others, he feels towards the scoffer only a pitying sorrow for his blindness--being assured, that though at all times there will be weakness, and ignorance, and worthlessness, which can hold no communion with him or with his thoughts, so will there be at all times the pure, the noble, and the pious, whose delight it will be to love, to admire, and to imitate; and that never, at any point of time, past, present, or to come, can a true poet be defrauded of his just fame. but we need not speak of poets alone (though we have done so at present to expose the miserable pretensions of mr. coleridge), but look through all the bright ranks of men distinguished by mental power, in whatever department of human science. it is our faith, that without moral there can be no intellectual grandeur; and surely the self-conceit and arrogance which we have been exposing, are altogether incompatible with lofty feelings and majestic principles. it is the dwarf alone who endeavours to strut himself into the height of the surrounding company; but the man of princely stature seems unconscious of the strength in which nevertheless he rejoices, and only sees his superiority in the gaze of admiration which he commands. look at the most inventive spirits of this country,--those whose intellects have achieved the most memorable triumphs. take, for example, leslie in physical science, and what airs of majesty does he ever assume? what is samuel coleridge compared to such a man? what is an ingenious and fanciful versifier to him who has, like a magician, gained command over the very elements of nature,--who has realized the fictions of poetry,--and to whom frost and fire are ministering and obedient spirits? but of this enough.--it is a position that doubtless might require some modification, but in the main, it is and must be true, that real greatness, whether in intellect, genius, or virtue, is dignified and unostentatious; and that no potent spirit ever whimpered over the blindness of the age to his merits, and, like mr. coleridge, or a child blubbering for the moon, with clamorous outcries implored and imprecated reputation. the very first sentence of this literary biography shows how incompetent mr. coleridge is for the task he has undertaken. it has been my lot to have had my name introduced both in conversation and in print, more frequently than i find it easy to explain; _whether i consider the fewness, unimportance, and limited circulation of my writings, or the retirement and distance in which i have lived, both from the literary and political world_. now, it is obvious, that if his writings be few, and unimportant, and unknown, mr. coleridge can have no reason for composing his literary biography. yet in singular contradiction to himself-- "if," says he, at p. , vol. i, "_the compositions which i have made public_, and that too in a form the most certain of an extensive circulation, though the least flattering to an author's self-love, had been published in books, they _would have filled a respectable number of volumes."_ he then adds, seldom have i written that in a day, the acquisition or investigation of which had not cost me _the precious labour of a month!_ he then bursts out into this magnificent exclamation, would that the criterion of a scholar's ability were the number and moral value of the truths which he has been the means of throwing into general circulation! and he sums up all by declaring, by what i _have_ effected am i to be judged by my fellow men. the truth is, that mr. coleridge has lived, as much as any man of his time, in literary and political society, and that he has sought every opportunity of keeping himself in the eye of the public, as restlessly as any charlatan who ever exhibited on the stage. to use his own words, "in , when i had barely passed the verge of manhood, i published a small volume of juvenile poems." these poems, by dint of puffing, reached a third edition; and though mr. coleridge pretends now to think but little of them, it is amusing to see how vehemently he defends them against criticism, and how pompously he speaks of such paltry trifles. "they were marked _by an ease and simplicity_ which i have studied, _perhaps with inferior success,_ to bestow on my latter compositions." but he afterwards repents of this sneer at his later compositions, and tells us, that they have nearly reached his standard of perfection! indeed, his vanity extends farther back than his juvenile poems; and he says, "for a school boy, i was _above par in english versification_, and had already produced two or three compositions, which i may venture to say, _without reference to my age, were somewhat above mediocrity_." happily he has preserved one of those wonderful productions of his precocious boyhood, and our readers will judge for themselves what a clever child it was. underneath a huge oak-tree, there was of swine a huge company; that grunted as they crunch'd the mast, for that was ripe and fell full fast. then they trotted away for the wind grew high, one acorn they left and no more might you spy. it is a common remark, that wonderful children seldom perform the promises of their youth, and undoubtedly this fine effusion has not been followed in mr. coleridge's riper years by works of proportionate merit. we see, then, that our author came very early into public notice; and from that time to this, he has not allowed one year to pass without endeavouring to extend his notoriety. his poems were soon followed (they may have been preceded) by a tragedy, entitled, the "fall of robespierre," a meagre performance, but one which, from the nature of the subject, attracted considerable attention. he also wrote a whole book, utterly incomprehensible to mr. southey, we are sure, on that poet's joan of arc; and became as celebrated for his metaphysical absurdities, as his friend had become for the bright promise of genius exhibited by that unequal, but spirited poem. he next published a series of political essays, entitled, the "watchman," and "conciones ad populum." he next started up, fresh from the schools of germany, as the principal writer in the morning post, a _strong opposition paper_. he then published various outrageous political poems, some of them of a gross personal nature. he afterwards assisted mr. wordsworth in planning his lyrical ballads; and contributing several poems to that collection, he shared in the notoriety of the lake school. he next published a mysterious periodical work, "the friend," in which he declared it was his intention to settle at once, and for ever, the principles of morality, religion, taste, manners, and the fine arts, but which died of a galloping consumption in the twenty-eighth week of its age. he then published the tragedy of "remorse," which dragged out a miserable existence of twenty nights, on the boards of drury-lane, and then expired for ever, like the oil of the orchestral lamps. he then forsook the stage for the pulpit, and, by particular desire of his congregation, published two "lay sermons." he then walked in broad day-light into the shop of mr. murray, albemarle street, london, with two ladies hanging on each arm, geraldine and christabel,--a bold step for a person at all desirous of a good reputation, and most of the trade have looked shy at him since that exhibition. since that time, however, he has contrived means of giving to the world a collected edition of all his poems, and advanced to the front of the stage with a thick octavo in each hand, all about himself and other incomprehensibilities. we had forgot that he was likewise a contributor to mr. southey's omniana, where the editor of the edinburgh review is politely denominated an "ass," and then _became himself a writer in the said review_. and to sum up "the strange eventful history" of this modest, and obscure, and retired person, we must mention, that in his youth he held forth in a vast number of unitarian chapels--preached his way through bristol, and "brummagem," and manchester, in a "blue coat and white waistcoat"; and in after years, when he was not so much afraid of "the scarlet woman," did, in a full suit of sables, lecture on poesy, to "crowded, and, need i add, highly respectable audiences," at the royal institution. after this slight and imperfect outline of his poetical, oratorical, metaphysical, political, and theological exploits, our readers will judge, when they hear him talking of "his retirement and distance from the literary and political world," what are his talents for autobiography, and how far he has penetrated into the mysterious non-entities of his own character. mr. coleridge has written conspicuously on the association of ideas, but his own do not seem to be connected either by time, place, cause and effect, resemblance, or contrast, and accordingly it is no easy matter to follow him through all the vagaries of his literary life. we are told, at school _i enjoyed the inestimable advantage_ of a very sensible, though at the same time a very severe master.--i learnt from him that poetry, even that of the loftiest and wildest odes, had a logic of its own as severe as that of science.--lute, harp, and lyre; muse, muses, and inspirations; pegasus, parnassus, and hippocrene; were all an abomination to him. in fancy i can almost hear him now exclaiming, _"harp? harp? lyre? pen and ink! boy you mean! muse! boy! muse! your nurse's daughter you mean! pierian spring! o aye! the cloister pump!"_--our classical knowledge was the least of the good gifts which we derived from his zealous and conscientious tutorage. with the then head-master of the grammar-school, christ hospital, we were not personally acquainted; but we cannot help thinking that he has been singularly unfortunate in his eulogist. he seems to have gone out of his province, and far out of his depth, when he attempted to teach boys the profoundest principles of poetry. but we must also add, that we cannot credit this account of him; for this doctrine of poetry being at all times logical, is that of which wordsworth and coleridge take so much credit to themselves for the discovery; and verily it is one too wilfully absurd and extravagant to have entered into the head of an honest man, whose time must have been wholly occupied with the instruction of children. indeed mr. coleridge's own poetical practices render this story incredible; for, during many years of his authorship, his diction was wholly at variance with such a rule, and the strain of his poetry as illogical as can be well imagined. when mr. bowyer prohibited his pupils from using, in their themes, the above-mentioned names, he did, we humbly submit, prohibit them from using the best means of purifying their taste and exalting their imagination. nothing could be so graceful, nothing so natural, as classical allusions, in the exercises of young minds, when first admitted to the fountains of greek and latin poetry; and the teacher who could seek to dissuade their ingenious souls from such delightful dreams, by coarse, vulgar, and indecent ribaldry, instead of deserving the name of "sensible," must have been a low-minded vulgar fellow, fitter for the porter than the master of such an establishment. but the truth probably is, that all this is a fiction of mr. coleridge, whose wit is at all times most execrable and disgusting. whatever the merits of his master were, mr. coleridge, even from his own account, seems to have derived little benefit from his instruction, and for the "inestimable advantage," of which he speaks, we look in vain through this narrative. in spite of so excellent a teacher, we find master coleridge, even before my fifteenth year, bewildered _in metaphysicks and in theological controversy_. nothing else pleased me. _history and particular facts_ lost all interest in my mind. poetry itself, yea novels and romances, became insipid to me. this preposterous pursuit was beyond doubt _injurious, both to my natural powers and to the progress of my education._ this deplorable condition of mind continued "even unto my seventeenth year." and now our readers must prepare themselves for a mighty and wonderful change, wrought, all on a sudden, on the moral and intellectual character of this metaphysical greenhorn. _"mr. bowles' sonnets, twenty in number, and just then published in a quarto volume_ (a most important circumstance!) _were put into my hand!"_ to those sonnets, next to the school-master's lectures on poetry, mr. coleridge attributes the strength, vigour, and extension, of his own very original genius. by those works, year after year, i was enthusiastically delighted and inspired. my earliest acquaintances will not have forgotten the undisciplined eagerness and impetuous zeal with which i labored to make proselytes, not only _of my companions, but of all with whom i conversed, of whatever rank, and in whatever place._ as my school finances did not permit me to purchase copies, i made, within less than a year and a half, _more than forty transcriptions, as the best presents i could make to those who had in any way won my regard._ my obligations to mr. bowles were indeed important, and for radical good! there must be some grievous natural defect in that mind which, even at the age of seventeen, could act so insanely; and we cannot but think, that no real and healthy sensibility could have exaggerated to itself so grossly the merits of bowles' sonnets. they are undoubtedly most beautiful, and we willingly pay our tribute of admiration to the genius of the amiable writer; but they neither did nor could produce any such effects as are here described, except upon a mind singularly weak and helpless. we must, however, take the fact as we find it; and mr. coleridge's first step, after his worship of bowles, was to see distinctly into the defects and deficiencies of pope (a writer whom bowles most especially admires, and has edited), and through all the false diction and borrowed plumage of gray! but here mr. coleridge drops the subject of poetry for the present, and proceeds to other important matters. we regret that mr. coleridge has passed over without notice all the years which he spent "in the happy quiet of ever-honoured jesus college, cambridge." that must have been the most important period of his life, and was surely more worthy of record than the metaphysical dreams or the poetical extravagancies of his boyhood. he tells us, that he was sent to the university "an excellent greek and latin scholar, and a tolerable hebraist"; and there might have been something rousing and elevating to young minds of genius and power, in his picture of himself, pursuits, visions, and attainments, during the bright and glorious morning of life, when he inhabited a dwelling of surpassing magnificence, guarded and hallowed, and sublimed by the shadows of the mighty. we should wish to know what progress he made there in his own favourite studies; what place he occupied, or supposed he occupied, among his numerous contemporaries of talent; how much he was inspired by the genius of the place; how far he "pierced the caves of old philosophy," or sounded the depths of the physical sciences. all this unfortunately is omitted, and he hurries on to details often trifling and uninfluential, sometimes low, vile, and vulgar, and, what is worse, occasionally inconsistent with any feeling of personal dignity and self-respect. after leaving college, instead of betaking himself to some respectable calling, mr. coleridge, with his characteristic modesty, determined to set on foot a periodical work called "the watchman," that through it "_all might know the truth_." the price of this very useful article was _"four-pence."_ off he set on a tour to the north to procure subscribers, "preaching in most of the great towns as a hireless volunteer, in a blue coat and white waistcoat, that not a rag of the woman of babylon might be seen on me." in preaching, his object was to show that our saviour was the real son of joseph, and that the crucifixion was a matter of small importance. mr. coleridge is now a most zealous member of the church of england--devoutly believes every iota in the thirty-nine articles, and that the christian religion is only to be found in its purity in the homilies and liturgy of that church. yet, on looking back to his unitarian zeal, he exclaims, o, never can i remember those days _with either shame or regret!_ for i was _most sincere, most disinterested! wealth, rank, life itself,_ then seem'd cheap to me, compared with the interests of truth, and the will of my maker. i cannot even accuse myself of having been actuated by _vanity!_ for in the expansion of my enthusiasm _i did not think of myself at all!_ this is delectable. what does he mean by saying that life seemed cheap? what danger could there be in the performance of his exploits, except that of being committed as a vagrant? what indeed could rank appear to a person thus voluntarily degraded? or who would expect vanity to be conscious of its own loathsomeness? during this tour he seems to have been constantly exposed to the insults of the vile and the vulgar, and to have associated with persons whose company must have been most odious to a gentleman. greasy tallow-chandlers, and pursey woollen-drapers, and grim-featured dealers in hard-ware, were his associates at manchester, derby, nottingham, and sheffield; and among them the light of truth was to be shed from its cloudy tabernacle in mr. coleridge's pericranium. at the house of a "brummagem patriot" he appears to have got dead drunk with strong ale and tobacco, and in that pitiable condition he was exposed to his disciples, lying upon a sofa, "with my face like a wall that is white-washing, _deathly_ pale, and with the cold drops of perspiration running down it from my forehead." some one having said, "have you seen a paper to-day, mr. coleridge?" the wretched man replied, with all the staring stupidity of his lamentable condition, "sir! i am far from convinced that a christian is permitted to read either newspapers, or any other works of merely political and temporary interest." this witticism quite enchanted his enlightened auditors, and they prolonged their festivities to an "early hour next morning." having returned to london with a thousand subscribers on his list, the "watchman" appeared in all his glory; but, alas! not on the day fixed for the first burst of his effulgence; which foolish delay incensed many of his subscribers. the watchman, on his second appearance, spoke blasphemously, and made indecent applications of scriptural language; then, instead of abusing government and aristocrats, as mr. coleridge had pledged himself to his constituents to do, he attacked his own party; so that in seven weeks, before the shoes were old in which he travelled to sheffield, the watchman went the way of all flesh, and his remains were scattered "through sundry old iron shops," where for one penny could be purchased each precious relic. to crown all, "his london publisher was a ----"; and mr. coleridge very narrowly escaped being thrown into jail for this his heroic attempt to shed over the manufacturing towns the illumination of knowledge. we refrain from making any comments on this deplorable story. this philosopher, and theologian, and patriot, now retired to a village in somersetshire, and, after having sought to enlighten the whole world, discovered that he himself was in utter darkness. doubts rushed in, broke upon me from the fountains of the great deep, and fell from the windows of heaven. the fontal truths of natural religion, and the book of revelation, alike contributed to the flood; and it was long ere my ark touched upon ararat, and rested. my head was with spinoza, though my heart was with paul and john.... we have no room here to expose, as it deserves to be exposed, the multitudinous political inconsistence of mr. coleridge, but we beg leave to state one single fact: he abhorred, hated, and despised mr. pitt,-- and he now loves and reveres his memory. by far the most spirited and powerful of his poetical writings, is the war eclogue, slaughter, fire, and famine; and in that composition he loads the minister with imprecations and curses, long, loud, and deep. but afterwards, when he has thought it prudent to change his principles, he denies that he ever felt any indignation towards mr. pitt; and with the most unblushing falsehood declares, that at the very moment his muse was consigning him to infamy, death, and damnation, he would "have interposed his body between him and danger." we believe that all good men, of all parties, regard mr. coleridge with pity and contempt. of the latter days of his literary life, mr. coleridge gives us no satisfactory account. the whole of the second volume is interspersed with mysterious inuendoes. he complains of the loss of all his friends, not by death, but estrangement. he tries to account for the enmity of the world to him, a harmless and humane man, who wishes well to all created things, and "of his wondering finds no end." he upbraids himself with indolence, procrastination, neglect of his worldly concerns, and all other bad habits,--and then, with incredible inconsistency, vaunts loudly of his successful efforts in the cause of literature, philosophy, morality, and religion. above all, he weeps and wails over the malignity of reviewers, who have persecuted him almost from his very cradle, and seem resolved to bark him into the grave. he is haunted by the image of a reviewer wherever he goes. they "push him from his stool," and by his bedside they cry, "sleep no more." they may abuse whomsoever they think fit, save himself and mr. wordsworth. all others are fair game--and he chuckles to see them brought down. but his sacred person must be inviolate, and rudely to touch it, is not high treason, it is impiety. yet his "ever-honoured friend, the laurel-honouring laureate," is a reviewer--his friend mr. thomas moore is a reviewer--his friend dr. middleton, bishop of calcutta, was the editor of a review--almost every friend he ever had is a reviewer;--and to crown all, he himself is a reviewer. every person who laughs at his silly poems--and his incomprehensible metaphysics, is malignant--in which case, there can be little benevolence in this world; and while mr. francis jeffrey is alive and merry, there can be no happiness here below for mr. samuel coleridge. and here we come to speak of a matter, which, though somewhat of a personal and private nature, is well deserving of mention in a review of mr. coleridge's literary life, for sincerity is the first of virtues, and without it no man can be respectable or useful. he has, in this work, accused mr. jeffrey of meanness--hypocrisy--falsehood--and breach of hospitality. that gentleman is able to defend himself--and his defence is no business of ours. but we now tell mr. coleridge, that instead of humbling his adversary, he has heaped upon his own head the ashes of disgrace--and with his own blundering hands, so stained his character as a man of honour and high principles, that the mark can never be effaced. all the most offensive attacks on the writings of wordsworth and southey, had been made by mr. jeffrey before his visit to keswick. yet, does coleridge receive him with open arms, according to his own account--listen, well-pleased, to all his compliments--talk to him for hours on his literary projects--dine with him as his guest at an inn--tell him that he knew mr. wordsworth would be most happy to see him--and in all respects behave to him with a politeness bordering on servility. and after all this, merely because his own vile verses were crumpled up like so much waste paper, by the grasp of a powerful hand in the edinburgh review, he accuses mr. jeffrey of abusing hospitality which he never received, and forgets, that instead of being the host, he himself was the smiling and obsequious guest of the man he pretends to have despised. with all this miserable forgetfulness of dignity and self-respect, he mounts the high horse, from which he instantly is tumbled into the dirt; and in his angry ravings collects together all the foul trash of literary gossip to fling at his adversary, but which is blown stifling back upon himself with odium and infamy. but let him call to mind his own conduct, and talk not of mr. jeffrey. many witnesses are yet living of his own egotism and malignity; and often has he heaped upon his "beloved friend, the laurel-honouring laureate," epithets of contempt, and pity, and disgust, though now it may suit his paltry purposes to worship and idolize. of mr. southey we at all times think, and shall speak, with respect and admiration; but his open adversaries are, like mr. jeffrey, less formidable than his unprincipled friends. when greek and trojan meet on the plain, there is an interest in the combat; but it is hateful and painful to think, that a hero should be wounded behind his back, and by a poisoned stiletto in the hand of a false friend. the concluding chapter of this biography is perhaps the most pitiful of the whole, and contains a most surprising mixture of the pathetic and the ludicrous. "strange," says he, "as the delusion may appear, yet it is most true, that three years ago i did not know or believe that i had an enemy in the world; and now even my strongest consolations of gratitude are mingled with fear, and i reproach myself for being too often disposed to ask,--have i one friend?" we are thus prepared for the narration of some grievous cruelty, or ingratitude, or malice--some violation of his peace, or robbery of his reputation; but our readers will start when they are informed, that this melancholy lament is occasioned solely by the cruel treatment which his poem of christabel received from the edinburgh review and other periodical journals! it was, he tells us, universally admired in manuscript--he recited it many hundred times to men, women, and children, and always with an electrical effect--it was bepraised by most of the great poets of the day--and for twenty years he was urged to give it to the world. but alas! no sooner had the lady christabel "come out," than all the rules of good-breeding and politeness were broken through, and the loud laugh of scorn and ridicule from every quarter assailed the ears of the fantastic hoyden. but let mr. coleridge be consoled. mr. scott and lord byron are good-natured enough to admire christabel, and the public have not forgotten that his lordship handed her ladyship upon the stage. it is indeed most strange, that mr., coleridge is not satisfied with the praise of those he admires,--but pines away for the commendation of those he contemns. having brought down his literary life to the great epoch of the publication of christabel, he there stops short; and that the world may compare him as he appears at that aera to his former self, when "he set sail from yarmouth on the morning of the th september, , in the hamburg packet," he has republished, from his periodical work the "friend," seventy pages of satyrane's letters. as a specimen of his wit in , our readers may take the following:-- we were all on the deck, but in a short time i observed marks of dismay. the lady retired to the cabin in some confusion; and many of the faces round me assumed a very doleful and frog-coloured appearance; and within an hour the number of those on deck was lessened by one half. i was giddy, but not sick; and the giddiness soon went away, but left a feverishness and want of appetite, which i attributed, in great measure, to the "_saeva mephitis_" of the bilge-water; and it was certainly not decreased by the _exportations from the cabin_. however, i was well enough to join the able-bodied passengers, one of whom observed, not inaptly, that momus might have discovered an easier _way to see a man's inside_ than by placing a window in his breast. he needed only have taken a salt-water trip in a packet boat. i am inclined to believe, that a packet is far superior to a stage-coach as a means of making men _open out to each other_! the importance of his observations during the voyage may be estimated by this one:-- at four o'clock i observed a wild duck swimming on the waves,_a single solitary wild duck!_ it is not easy to conceive how interesting a thing it looked in that round objectless desert of waters! at the house of klopstock, brother of the poet, he saw a portrait of lessing, which he thus describes to the public:--"his eyes were uncommonly _like mine_! if any thing, rather larger and more prominent! but the lower part of his face i and his nose--o what an exquisite expression of elegance and sensibility!" he then gives a long account of his interview with klopstock the poet, in which he makes that great man talk in a very silly, weak, and ignorant manner. mr. coleridge not only sets him right in all his opinions on english literature, but also is kind enough to correct, in a very authoritative and dictatorial tone, his erroneous views of the characteristic merits and defects of the most celebrated german writers. he has indeed the ball in his own hands throughout the whole game; and klopstock, who, he says, "was seventy-four years old, with legs enormously swollen," is beaten to a standstill. we are likewise presented with an account of a conversation which his friend w. held with the german poet, in which the author of the messiah makes a still more paltry figure. we can conceive nothing more odious and brutal, than two young ignorant lads from cambridge forcing themselves upon the retirement of this illustrious old man, and, instead of listening with love, admiration and reverence, to his sentiments and opinions, insolently obtruding upon him their own crude and mistaken fancies,--contradicting imperiously every thing he advances,--taking leave of him with a consciousness of their own superiority,--and, finally, talking of him and his genius in terms of indifference bordering on contempt. this mr. w. had the folly and the insolence to say to klopstock, who was enthusiastically praising the oberon of wieland, that he never could see the smallest beauty in any part of that poem. we must now conclude our account of this "unaccountable" production. it has not been in our power to enter into any discussion with mr. coleridge on the various subjects of poetry and philosophy, which he has, we think, vainly endeavoured to elucidate. but we shall, on a future occasion, meet him on his own favourite ground. no less than pages of the second volume are dedicated to the poetry of mr. wordsworth. he has endeavoured to define poetry--to explain the philosophy of metre--to settle the boundaries of poetic diction--and to show, finally, "what it is probable mr. wordsworth meant to say in his dissertation prefixed to his lyrical ballads." as mr. coleridge has not only studied the laws of poetical composition, but is a poet of considerable powers, there are, in this part of his book, many acute, ingenious, and even sensible observations and remarks; but he never knows when to have done,--explains what requires no explanation,--often leaves untouched the very difficulty he starts,--and when he has poured before us a glimpse of light upon the shapeless form of some dark conception, he seems to take a wilful pleasure in its immediate extinction, and leads "us floundering on, and quite astray," through the deepening shadows of interminable night. one instance there is of magnificent promise, and laughable non-performance, unequalled in the annals of literary history. mr. coleridge informs us, that he and mr. wordsworth (he is not certain which is entitled to the glory of the first discovery) have found out the difference between fancy and imagination. this discovery, it is prophesied, will have an incalculable influence on the progress of all the fine arts. he has written a long chapter purposely to prepare our minds for the great discussion. the audience is assembled--the curtain is drawn up--and there, in his gown, cap, and wig, is sitting professor coleridge. in comes a servant with a letter; the professor gets up, and, with a solemn voice, reads to the audience.--it is from an enlightened friend; and its object is to shew, in no very courteous terms either to the professor or his spectators, that he may lecture, but that nobody will understand him. he accordingly makes his bow, and the curtain falls; but the worst of the joke is, that the professor pockets the admittance-money,--for what reason, his outwitted audience are left, the best way they can, to "fancy or imagine." but the greatest piece of quackery in the book is his pretended account of the metaphysical system of kant, of which he knows less than nothing. he wall not allow that there is a single word of truth in any of the french expositions of that celebrated system, nor yet in any of our british reviews. we do not wish to speak of what we do not understand, and therefore say nothing of mr. coleridge's metaphysics.... we have done. we have felt it our duty to speak with severity of this book and its author--and we have given our readers ample opportunities to judge of the justice of our strictures. we have not been speaking in the cause of literature only, but, we conceive, in the cause of morality and religion. for it is not fitting that he should be held up as an example to the rising generation (but, on the contrary, it is most fitting that he should be exposed as a most dangerous model), who has alternately embraced, defended, and thrown aside all systems of philosophy--and all creeds of religion,--who seems to have no power of retaining an opinion,--no trust in the principles which he defends,--but who fluctuates from theory to theory, according as he is impelled by vanity, envy, or diseased desire of change,--and who, while he would subvert and scatter into dust those structures of knowledge, reared by the wise men of this and other generations, has nothing to erect in their room but the baseless and air-built fabrics of a dreaming imagination. on the cockney school of poetry no. i [from _blackwood's magazine_, october, ] our talk shall be (a theme we never tire on) of chaucer, spenser, shakespeare, milton, byron, (our england's dante)--wordsworth--hunt, and keats, the muses' son of promise; and of what feats he yet may do. cornelius webb. while the whole critical world is occupied with balancing the merits, whether in theory or in execution, of what is commonly called the lake school, it is strange that no one seems to think it at all necessary to say a single word about another new school of poetry which has of late sprung up among us. this school has not, i believe, as yet received any name; but if i may be permitted to have the honour of christening it, it may henceforth be referred to by the designation of the cockney school. its chief doctor and professor is mr. leigh hunt, a man certainly of some talents, of extravagant pretensions both in wit, poetry, and politics, and withal of exquisitely bad taste, and extremely vulgar modes of thinking and manners in all respects. he is a man of little education. he knows absolutely nothing of greek, almost nothing of latin, and his knowledge of italian literature is confined to a few of the most popular of petrarch's sonnets, and an imperfect acquaintance with ariosto, through the medium of mr. hoole. as to the french poets, he dismisses them in the mass as a set of prim, precise, unnatural pretenders. the truth is, he is in a state of happy ignorance about them and all that they have done. he has never read zaïre nor phèdre. to those great german poets who have illuminated the last fifty years with a splendour to which this country has, for a long time, seen nothing comparable, mr. hunt is an absolute stranger. of spanish books he has read don quixote (in the translation of motteux), and some poems of lope de vega in the imitations of my lord holland. of all the great critical writers, either of ancient or of modern times, he is utterly ignorant, excepting only mr. jeffrey among ourselves. with this stock of knowledge, mr. hunt presumes to become the founder of a new school of poetry, and throws away entirely the chance which he might have had of gaining some true poetical fame, had he been less lofty in his pretensions. the story of rimini is not wholly undeserving of praise. it possesses some tolerable passages, which are all quoted in the edinburgh reviewer's account of the poem, and not one of which is quoted in the very illiberal attack upon it in the quarterly. but such is the wretched taste in which the greater part of the work is executed, that most certainly no man who reads it once will ever be able to prevail upon himself to read it again. one feels the same disgust at the idea of opening rimini, that impresses itself on the mind of a man of fashion, when he is invited to enter, for a second time, the gilded drawing-room of a little mincing boarding school mistress, who would fain have an _at home_ in her house. every thing is pretence, affectation, finery, and gaudiness. the beaux are attorneys' apprentices, with chapeau bras and limerick gloves--fiddlers, harp teachers, and clerks of genius: the belles are faded fan-twinkling spinsters, prurient vulgar misses from school, and enormous citizens' wives. the company are entertained with lukewarm negus, and the sounds of a paltry piano forte. all the great poets of our country have been men of some rank in society, and there is no vulgarity in any of their writings; but mr. hunt cannot utter a dedication, or even a note, without betraying the _shibboleth_ of low birth and low habits. he is the ideal of a cockney poet. he raves perpetually about "greenfields," "jaunty streams," and "o'er-arching leafiness," exactly as a cheapside shop-keeper does about the beauties of his box on the camberwell road. mr. hunt is altogether unacquainted with the face of nature in her magnificent scenes; he has never seen any mountain higher than highgate-hill, nor reclined by any stream more pastoral than the serpentine river. but he is determined to be a poet eminently rural, and he rings the changes--till one is sick of him, on the beauties of the different "high views" which he has taken of god and nature, in the course of some sunday dinner parties, at which he has assisted in the neighbourhood of london. his books are indeed not known in the country; his fame as a poet (and i might almost say, as a politician too) is entirely confined to the young attorneys and embryo-barristers about town. in the opinion of these competent judges, london is the world--and hunt is a homer. mr. hunt is not disqualified by his ignorance and vulgarity alone, for being the founder of a respectable sect in poetry. he labours under the burden of a sin more deadly than either of these. the two great elements of all dignified poetry, religious feeling, and patriotic feeling, have no place in his mind. his religion is a poor tame dilution of the blasphemies of the _encyclopaedie_--his patriotism a crude, vague, ineffectual, and sour jacobinism. he is without reverence either for god or man; neither altar nor throne have any dignity in his eyes. he speaks well of nobody but two or three great dead poets, and in so speaking of them he does well; but, alas! mr. hunt is no conjurer [greek: technae ou lanthanei]. he pretends, indeed, to be an admirer of spencer and chaucer, but what he praises in them is never what is most deserving of praise--it is only that which he humbly conceives, bears some resemblance to the more perfect productions of mr. leigh hunt; and we can always discover, in the midst of his most violent ravings about the court of elizabeth, and the days of sir philip sidney, and the fairy queen--that the real objects of his admiration are the coterie of hampstead and the editor of the examiner. when he talks about chivalry and king arthur, he is always thinking of himself, and "_a small party of friends, who meet once a-week at a round table, to discuss the merits of a leg of mutton, and of the subjects upon which we are to write._"-- mr. leigh hunt's ideas concerning the sublime, and concerning his own powers, bear a considerable resemblance to those of his friend bottom, the weaver, on the same subjects; "i will roar, that it shall do any man's heart good to hear me."--"i will roar you an 'twere any nightingale." the poetry of mr. hunt is such as might be expected from the personal character and habits of its author. as a vulgar man is perpetually labouring to be genteel--in like manner, the poetry of this man is always on the stretch to be grand. he has been allowed to look for a moment from the anti-chamber into the saloon, and mistaken the waving of feathers and the painted floor for the _sine quâ non's_ of elegant society. he would fain be always tripping and waltzing, and is sorry that he cannot be allowed to walk about in the morning with yellow breeches and flesh-coloured silk stockings. he sticks an artificial rose-bud into his button hole in the midst of winter. he wears no neckcloth, and cuts his hair in imitation of the prints of petrarch. in his verses also he is always desirous of being airy, graceful, easy, courtly, and italian. if he had the smallest acquaintance with the great demigods of italian poetry, he could never fancy that the style in which he writes, bears any, even the most remote resemblance to the severe and simple manner of dante--the tender stillness of the lover of laura--or the sprightly and good-natured unconscious elegance of the inimitable ariosto. he has gone into a strange delusion about himself, and is just as absurd in supposing that he resembles the italian poets as a greater quack still (mr. coleridge) is, in imagining that he is a philosopher after the manner of kant or mendelshon--and that "the eye of lessing bears a remarkable likeness to mine," i.e., the eye of mr. samuel coleridge.[ ] [ ] mr. wordsworth (meaning, we presume, to pay mr. coleridge a compliment), makes him look very absurdly, "a noticeable man, with _large grey eyes_." the extreme moral depravity of the cockney school is another thing which is for ever thrusting itself upon the public attention, and convincing every man of sense who looks into their productions, that they who sport such sentiments can never be great poets. how could any man of high original genius ever stoop publicly, at the present day, to dip his fingers in the least of those glittering and rancid obscenities which float on the surface of mr. hunt's hippocrene? his poetry is that of a man who has kept company with kept-mistresses. he talks indelicately like a tea-sipping milliner girl. some excuse for him there might have been, had he been hurried away by imagination or passion. but with him indecency is a disease, and he speaks unclean things from perfect inanition. the very concubine of so impure a wretch as leigh hunt would be to be pitied, but alas! for the wife of such a husband! for him there is no charm in simple seduction; and he gloats over it only when accompanied with adultery and incest. the unhealthy and jaundiced medium through which the founder of the cockney school views every thing like moral truth, is apparent, not only from his obscenity, but also from his want of respect for all that numerous class of plain upright men, and unpretending women, in which the real worth and excellence of human society consists. every man is, according to mr. hunt, a dull potato-eating blockhead--of no greater value to god or man than any ox or dray-horse--who is not an admirer of voltaire's _romans_, a worshipper of lord holland and mr. haydon and a quoter of john buncle and chaucer's flower and leaf. every woman is useful only as a breeding machine, unless she is fond of reading launcelot of the lake, in an antique summer-house. how such a profligate creature as mr. hunt can pretend to be an admirer of mr. wordsworth, is to us a thing altogether inexplicable. one great charm of wordsworth's noble compositions consists in the dignified purity of thought, and the patriarchal simplicity of feeling, with which they are throughout penetrated and imbued. we can conceive a vicious man admiring with distant awe and spectacle of virtue and purity; but if he does so sincerely, he must also do so with the profoundest feeling of the error of his own ways, and the resolution to amend them. his admiration must be humble and silent, not pert and loquacious. mr. hunt praises the purity of wordsworth as if he himself were pure, his dignity as if he also were dignified. he is always like the ball of dung in the fable, pleasing himself, and amusing by-standers with his "nos poma natamus." for the person who writes _rimini_, to admire the excursion, is just as impossible as it would be for a chinese polisher of cherry-stones, or gilder of tea-cups, to burst into tears at the sight of the theseus or the torso. the founder of the cockney school would fain claim poetical kindred with lord byron and thomas moore. such a connexion would be as unsuitable for them as for william wordsworth. the days of mr. moore's follies are long since over; and, as he is a thorough gentleman, he must necessarily entertain the greatest contempt for such an under-bred person as leigh hunt. but lord byron! how must the haughty spirit of lara and harold contemn the subaltern sneaking of our modern tuft-hunter. the insult which he offered to lord byron in the dedication of rimini,--in which he, a paltry cockney newspaper scribbler, had the assurance to address one of the most nobly-born of english patricians, and one of the first geniuses whom the world ever produced, as "my dear byron," although it may have been forgotten and despised by the illustrious person whom it most nearly concerned,--excited a feeling of utter loathing and disgust in the public mind, which will always be remembered whenever the name of leigh hunt is mentioned. we dare say mr. hunt has some fine dreams about the true nobility being the nobility of talent, and flatters himself, that with those who acknowledge only that sort of rank, he himself passes for being the _peer_ of byron. he is sadly mistaken. he is as completely a plebeian in his mind as he is in his rank and station in society. to that highest and unalienated nobility which the great roman satirist styles "sola atque unica," we fear his pretensions would be equally unavailing. the shallow and impotent pretensions, tenets, and attempts, of this man,--and the success with which his influence seems to be extending itself among a pretty numerous, though certainly a very paltry and pitiful, set of readers,--have for the last two or three years been considered by us with the most sickening aversion. the very culpable manner in which his chief poem was reviewed in the edinburgh review (we believe it is no secret, at his own impatient and feverish request, by his partner in the round table), was matter of concern to more readers than ourselves. the masterly pen which inflicted such signal chastisement on the early licentiousness of moore, should not have been idle on that occasion. mr. jeffrey does ill when he delegates his important functions into such hands as mr. hazlitt. it was chiefly in consequence of that gentleman's allowing leigh hunt to pass unpunished through a scene of slaughter, which his execution might so highly have graced that we came to the resolution of laying before our readers a series of essays on _the cockney school_--of which here terminates the first. _z_. the cockney school of poetry no. iii [from _blackwood's magazine_, july, ] our hatred and contempt of leigh hunt as a writer, is not so much owing to his shameless irreverence to his aged and afflicted king--to his profligate attacks on the character of the king's sons--to his low-born insolence to that aristocracy with whom he would in vain claim the alliance of one illustrious friendship--to his paid panderism to the vilest passions of that mob of which he is himself a firebrand--to the leprous crust of self-conceit with which his whole moral being is indurated--to that loathsome vulgarity which constantly clings round him like a vermined garment from st. giles'--to that irritable temper which keeps the unhappy man, in spite even of his vanity, in a perpetual fret with himself and all the world beside, and that shews itself equally in his deadly enmities and capricious friendships,--our hatred and contempt of leigh hunt, we say, is not so much owing to these and other causes, as to the odious and unnatural harlotry of his polluted muse. we were the first to brand with a burning iron the false face of this kept-mistress of a demoralizing incendiary. we tore off her gaudy veil and transparent drapery, and exhibited the painted cheeks and writhing limbs of the prostitute. we denounced to the execration of the people of england, the man who had dared to write in the solitude of a cell, whose walls ought to have heard only the sighs of contrition and repentance, a lewd tale of incest, adultery, and murder, in which the violation of nature herself was wept over, palliated, justified, and held up to imitation, and the violators themselves worshipped as holy martyrs. the story of rimini had begun to have its admirers; but their deluded minds were startled at our charges,--and on reflecting upon the character of the poem, which they had read with a dangerous sympathy, not on account of its poetical merit, which is small indeed, but on account of those voluptuous scenes, so dangerous even to a pure imagination, when insidiously painted with the seeming colours of virtue,--they were astounded at their own folly and their own danger, and consigned the wretched volume to that ignominious oblivion, which, in a land of religion and morality, must soon be the doom of all obscene and licentious productions. the story of rimini is heard of no more. but leigh hunt will not be quiet. his hebdomadal hand [**pointing hand symbol] is held up, even on the sabbath, against every man of virtue and genius in the land; but the great defamer claims to himself an immunity from that disgrace which he knows his own wickedness has incurred,--the cockney calumniator would fain hold his own disgraced head sacred from the iron fingers of retribution. but that head shall be brought low--aye--low "as heaped up justice" ever sunk that of an offending scribbler against the laws of nature and of god. leigh hunt dared not, hazlitt dared not, to defend the character of the "story of rimini." a man may venture to say that in verse which it is perilous to utter in plain prose. even they dared not to affirm to the people of england, that a wife who had committed incest with her husband's brother, ought on her death to be buried in the same tomb with her fraticidal [transcriber's note: sic] paramour, and that tomb to be annually worshipped by the youths and virgins of their country. and therefore leigh hunt flew into a savage passion against the critic who had chastised his crime, pretended that he himself was insidiously charged with the offences which he had applauded and celebrated in others, and tried to awaken the indignation of the public against his castigator, as if he had been the secret assassin of private character, who was but the open foe of public enormity. the attempt was hopeless,-- the public voice has lifted up against hunt,--and sentence of excommunication from the poets of england has been pronounced, enrolled, and ratified. there can be no radical distinction allowed between the private and public character of a poet. if a poet sympathizes with and justifies wickedness in his poetry, he is a wicked man. it matters not that his private life may be free from wicked actions. corrupt his moral principles must be,--and if his conduct has not been flagrantly immoral, the cause must be looked for in constitution, &c., but not in conscience. it is therefore of little or no importance, whether leigh hunt be or be not a bad private character. he maintains, that he is a most excellent private character, and that he would blush to tell the world how highly he is thought of by an host of respectable friends. be it so,--and that his vanity does not delude him. but this is most sure, that, in such a case, the world will never be brought to believe even the truth. the world is not fond of ingenious distinctions between the theory and the practice of morals. the public are justified in refusing to hear a man plead in favour of his character, when they hold in their hands a work of his in which all respect to character is forgotten. we must reap the fruit of what we sow; and if evil and unjust reports have arisen against leigh hunt as a man, and unluckily for him it is so, he ought not to attribute the rise of such reports to the political animosities which his virulence has excited, but to the real and obvious cause--his voluptuous defence of crimes revolting to nature. the publication of the voluptuous story of rimini was followed, it would appear, by mysterious charges against leigh hunt in his domestic relations. the world could not understand the nature of his poetical love of incest; and instead of at once forgetting both the poem and the poet, many people set themselves to speculate, and talk, and ask questions, and pry into secrets with which they had nothing to do, till at last there was something like an identification of leigh hunt himself with paolo, the incestuous hero of leigh hunt's chief cockney poem. this was wrong, and, we believe, wholly unjust; but it was by no means unnatural; and precisely what leigh hunt is himself in the weekly practice of doing to other people without the same excuse. leigh hunt has now spoken out so freely to the public on the subject, that there can be no indelicacy in talking of it, in as far as it respects him, at least.... there is no need for us to sink down this unhappy man into deeper humiliation. never before did the abuse and prostitution of talents bring with them such prompt and memorable punishment. the pestilential air which leigh hunt breathed forth into the world to poison and corrupt, has been driven stiflingly back upon himself, and he who strove to spread the infection of loathsome licentiousness among the tender moral constitutions of the young, has been at length rewarded, as it was fitting he should be, by the accusation of being himself guilty of those crimes which it was the object of "the story of rimini" to encourage and justify in others. the world knew nothing of him but from his works; and were they blameable (even though they erred) in believing him capable of any enormities in his own person, whose imagination feasted and gloated on the disgusting details of adultery and incest? they were repelled and sickened by such odious and unnatural wickedness--he was attracted and delighted. what to them was the foulness of pollution, seemed to him the beauty of innocence. what to them was the blast from hell, to him was the air from heaven. they read and they condemned. they asked each other "what manner of man is this?" the charitable were silent. it would perhaps be hard to call them uncharitable who spoke aloud. thoughts were associated with his name which shall be nameless by us; and at last the wretched scribbler himself has had the gross and unfeeling folly to punish them all to the world, and that too in a tone of levity that could have been becoming only on our former comparatively trivial charges against him of wearing yellow breeches, and dispensing with the luxury of a neckcloth. he shakes his shoulders, according to his rather iniquitous custom, at being told that he is suspected of adultery and incest! a pleasant subject of merriment, no doubt, it is--though somewhat embittered by the intrusive remembrance of that unsparing castigator of vice, mr. gifford, and clouded over by the melancholy breathed from the shin-bone of his own poor old deceased grandmother. what a mixture of the horrible and absurd! and the man who thus writes is--not a christian, for that he denies--but, forsooth, a poet! one of the great spirits who on earth are sojourning! but leigh hunt is not guilty, in the above paragraph, of shocking levity alone,--he is guilty of falsehood. it is not true, that he learns for the first time, from that anonymous letter (so vulgar, that we could almost suspect him of having written it himself) what charges were in circulation against him. he knew it all before. has he forgotten to whom he applied for explanation when z.'s sharp essay on the cockney poetry cut him to the heart? he knows what he said upon those occasions, and let him ponder upon it. but what could induce him to suspect the amiable bill hazlitt, "him, the immaculate," of being z.? it was this,--he imagined that none but that foundered artist could know the fact of his feverish importunities to be reviewed by him in the edinburgh review. and therefore, having almost "as fine an intellectual touch" as "bill the painter" himself, he thought he saw z. lurking beneath the elegant exterior of that highly accomplished man. dear hazlitt, whose tact intellectual is such, that it seems to feel truth as one's fingers do touch. but, for the present, we have nothing more to add. leigh hunt is delivered into our hands to do with him as we will. our eyes shall be upon him, and unless he amend his ways, to wither and to blast him. the pages of the edinburgh review, we are confident, are henceforth shut against him. one wicked cockney will not again be permitted to praise another in that journal, which, up to the moment when incest and adultery were defended in its pages, had, however openly at war with religion, kept at least upon decent terms with the cause of morality. it was indeed a fatal day for mr. jeffrey, when he degraded both himself and his original coadjutors, by taking into pay such an unprincipled blunderer as hazlitt. he is not a coadjutor, he is an accomplice. the day is perhaps not far distant, when the charlatan shall be stripped to the naked skin, and made to swallow his own vile prescriptions. he and leigh hunt are arcades ambo et cantare pares-- shall we add, et respondere parati? z. on keats [from _blackwood's magazine_, august, ] cockney school of poetry no. iv ---- of keats, the muses' son of promise, and what feats he yet may do, &c. cornelius webb. of all the manias of this mad age, the most incurable, as well as the most common, seems to be no other than the _metromanie_. the just celebrity of robert burns and miss baillie has had the melancholy effect of turning the heads of we know not how many farm-servants and unmarried ladies; our very footmen compose tragedies, and there is scarcely a superannuated governess in the island that does not leave a roll of lyrics behind her in her band-box. to witness the disease of any human understanding, however feeble, is distressing; but the spectacle of an able mind reduced to a state of insanity is of course ten times more afflicting. it is with such sorrow as this that we have contemplated the case of mr. john keats. this young man appears to have received from nature talents of an excellent, perhaps even of a superior order-- talents which, devoted to the purposes of any useful profession, must have rendered him a respectable, if not an eminent citizen. his friends, we understand, destined him to the career of medicine, and he was bound apprentice some years ago to a worthy apothecary in town. but all has been undone by a sudden attack of the malady to which we have alluded. whether mr. john had been sent home with a diuretic or composing draught to some patient far gone in the poetical mania, we have not heard. this much is certain, that he has caught the infection, and that thoroughly. for some time we were in hopes, that he might get off with a violent fit or two; but of late the symptoms are terrible. the phrenzy of the "poems" was bad enough in its way; but it did not alarm us half so seriously as the calm, settled, imperturbable drivelling idiocy of "endymion." we hope, however, that in so young a person, and with a constitution originally so good, even now the disease is not utterly incurable. time, firm treatment, and rational restraint, do much for many apparently hopeless invalids; and if mr. keats should happen, at some interval of reason, to cast his eye upon our pages, he may perhaps be convinced of the existence of his malady, which, in such cases, is often all that is necessary to put the patient in a fair way of being cured. the readers of the examiner newspaper were informed, some time ago, by a solemn paragraph, in mr. hunt's best style, of the appearance of two new stars of glorious magnitude and splendour in the poetical horizon of the land of cockaigne. one of these turned out, by and by, to be no other than mr. john keats. this precocious adulation confirmed the wavering apprentice in his desire to quit the gallipots, and at the same time excited in his too susceptible mind a fatal admiration for the character and talents of the most worthless and affected of all the versifiers of our time. one of his first productions was the following sonnet, "_written on the day when mr. leigh hunt left prison._" it will be recollected, that the cause of hunt's confinement was a series of libels against his sovereign, and that its fruit was the odious and incestuous "story of rimini." what though, for shewing truth to flattered state, _kind hunt_ was shut in prison, yet has he, in his immortal spirit been as free as the sky-searching lark, and as elate. minion of grandeur! think you he did wait? think you he nought but prison walls did see, till, so unwilling, thou unturn'dst the key? ah, no! far happier, nobler was his fate! _in spenser's halls_! he strayed, and bowers fair, culling enchanted flowers; and he flew _with daring milton_! through the fields of air; to regions of his own his genius true took happy flights. who shall his fame impair when thou art dead, and all thy wretched crew? the absurdity of the thought in this sonnet is, however, if possible, surpassed in another, "_addressed to haydon_" the painter, that clever, but most affected artist, who as little resembles raphael in genius as he does in person, notwithstanding the foppery of having his hair curled over his shoulders in the old italian fashion. in this exquisite piece it will be observed, that mr. keats classes together wordsworth, hunt, and haydon, as the three greatest spirits of the age, and that he alludes to himself, and some others of the rising brood of cockneys, as likely to attain hereafter an equally honourable elevation. wordsworth and hunt! what a juxta-position! the purest, the loftiest, and, we do not fear to say it, the most classical of living english poets, joined together in the same compliment with the meanest, the filthiest, and the most vulgar of cockney poetasters. no wonder that he who could be guilty of this should class haydon with raphael, and himself with spenser. great spirits now on earth are sojourning; he of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, who on helvellyn's summit, wide awake, catches his freshness from archangel's wing: _he of the rose, the violet, the spring, the social smile, the chain for freedom's sake_: and lo!--whose steadfastness would never take a meaner sound than raphael's whispering. and other spirits there are standing apart upon the forehead of the age to come; these, these will give the world another heart, and other pulses. _hear ye not the hum of mighty workings_?-- _listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb_. the nations are to listen and be dumb! and why, good johnny keats? because leigh hunt is editor of the examiner, and haydon has painted the judgment of solomon, and you and cornelius webb, and a few more city sparks, are pleased to look upon yourselves as so many future shakespeares and miltons! the world has really some reason to look to its foundations! here is a _tempestas in matulâ_ with a vengeance. at the period when these sonnets were published, mr. keats had no hesitation in saying, that he looked on himself as "_not yet_ a glorious denizen of the wide heaven of poetry," but he had many fine soothing visions of coming greatness, and many rare plans of study to prepare him for it.... having cooled a little from this "fine passion," our youthful poet passes very naturally into a long strain of foaming abuse against a certain class of english poets, whom, with pope at their head, it is much the fashion with the ignorant unsettled pretenders of the present time to undervalue. begging these gentlemen's pardon, although pope was not a poet of the same high order with some who are now living, yet, to deny his genius, it is just about as absurd as to dispute that of wordsworth, or to believe in that of hunt. above all things, it is most pitiably ridiculous to hear men, of whom their country will always have reason to be proud, reviled by uneducated and flimsy striplings, who are not capable of understanding either their merits, or those of any other _men of power_--fanciful dreaming tea-drinkers, who, without logic enough to analyse a single idea, or imagination enough to form one original image, or learning enough to distinguish between the written language of englishmen and the spoken jargon of cockneys, presume to talk with contempt of some of the most exquisite spirits the world ever produced, merely because they did not happen to exert their faculties in laborious affected descriptions of flowers seen in window-pots, or cascades heard at vauxhall; in short, because they chose to be wits, philosophers, patriots, and poets, rather than to found the cockney school of versification, morality, and politics, a century before its time. after blaspheming himself into a fury against boileau, &c., mr. keats comforts himself and his readers with a view of the present more promising aspect of affairs; above all, with the ripened glories of the poet of rimini. addressing the names of the departed chiefs of english poetry, he informs them, in the following clear and touching manner, of the existence of "him of the rose," &c. from a thick brake, nested and quiet in a valley mild, bubbles a pipe; fine sounds are floating wild about the earth. happy are ye and glad.... from some verses addressed to various individuals of the other sex, it appears, notwithstanding all this gossamer-work, that johnny's affectations are not entirely confined to objects purely etherial. take, by way of specimen, the following prurient and vulgar lines, evidently meant for some young lady east of temple-bar. add too, the sweetness of thy honied voice; the neatness of thine ankle lightly turn'd: with those beauties, scarce discerned, kept with such sweet privacy, that they seldom meet the eye of the little loves that fly round about with eager pry. saving when, with freshening lave, thou dipp'st them in the taintless wave; like twin water lilies, born in the coolness of the morn. o, if thou hadst breathed then, now the muses had been ten. couldst thou wish for lineage _higher_ than twin sister of _thalia_? at last for ever, evermore, will i call the graces four. who will dispute that our poet, to use his own phrase (and rhyme), can mingle music fit for the soft _ear_ of lady _cytherea_. so much for the opening bud; now for the expanded flower. it is time to pass from the juvenile "poems," to the mature and elaborate "endymion, a poetic romance." the old story of the moon falling in love with a shepherd, so prettily told by a roman classic, and so exquisitely enlarged and adorned by one of the most elegant of german poets, has been seized upon by mr. john keats, to be done with as might seem good unto the sickly fancy of one who never read a single line either of ovid or of wieland. if the quantity, not the quality, of the verses dedicated to the story is to be taken into account, there can be no doubt that mr. keats may now claim endymion entirely to himself. to say the truth, we do not suppose either the latin or the german poet would be very anxious to dispute about the property of the hero of the "poetic romance." mr. keats has thoroughly appropriated the character, if not the name. his endymion is not a greek shepherd, love of a grecian goddess; he is merely a young cockney rhymster, dreaming a phantastic dream at the full of the moon. costume, were it worth while to notice such a trifle, is violated in every page of this goodly octavo. from his prototype hunt, john keats has acquired a sort of vague idea, that the greeks were a most tasteful people, and that no mythology can be so finely adapted for the purposes of poetry as theirs. it is amusing to see what a hand the two cockneys make of this mythology; the one confesses that he never read the greek tragedians, and the other knows homer only from chapman, and both of them write about apollo, pan, nymphs, muses, and mysteries, as might be expected from persons of their education. we shall not, however, enlarge at present upon this subject, as we mean to dedicate an entire paper to the classical attainments and attempts of the cockney poets. as for mr. keats's "endymion," it has just as much to do with greece as it has with "old tartary the fierce"; no man, whose mind has ever been imbued with the smallest knowledge or feeling of classical poetry or classical history, could have stooped to profane and vulgarise every association in the manner which has been adopted by this "son of promise." before giving any extracts, we must inform our readers, that this romance is meant to be written in english heroic rhyme. to those who have read any of hunt's poems, this hint might indeed be needless. mr. keats has adopted the loose, nerveless versification, and cockney rhymes of the poet of rimini; but in fairness to that gentleman, we must add, that the defects of the system are tenfold more conspicuous in his disciples' work than in his own. mr. hunt is a small poet, but he is a clever man. mr. keats is a still smaller poet, and he is only a boy of pretty abilities, which he has done every thing in his power to spoil.... after all this, however, the "modesty," as mr. keats expresses it, of the lady diana prevented her from owning in olympus her passion for endymion. venus, as the most knowing in such matters, is the first to discover the change that has taken place in the temperament of the goddess. "an idle tale," says the laughter-loving dame, a humid eye, and steps luxurious, when these are new and strange, are ominous. the inamorata, to vary the intrigue, carries on a romantic intercourse with endymion, under the disguise of an indian damsel. at last, however, her scruples, for some reason or other, are all overcome, and the queen of heaven owns her attachment. she gave her fair hands to him, and behold, before three swiftest kisses he had told, they vanish far away!--peona went home through the gloomy wood in wonderment. and so, like many other romances, terminates the "poetic romance" of johnny keats, in a patched-up wedding. we had almost forgotten to mention, that keats belongs to the cockney school of politics, as well as the cockney school of poetry. it is fit that he who holds rimini to be the first poem, should believe the examiner to be the first politician of the day. we admire consistency, even in folly. hear how their bantling has already learned to lisp sedition. there are who lord it o'er their fellow-men with most prevailing tinsel: who unpen their baaing vanities, to browse away the comfortable green and juicy hay from human pastures; or, o torturing fact! who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes. with not one tinge of sanctuary splendour, not a sight able to face an owl's, they still are dight by the blue-eyed nations in empurpled vests, and crowns, and turbans. with unladen breasts, save of blown self-applause, they proudly mount to their spirit's perch, their being's high account, their tiptop nothings, their dull skies, their thrones-- amid the fierce intoxicating tones. of trumpets, shoutings, and belaboured drums, and sudden cannon. ah! how all this hums, in wakeful ears, like uproar past and gone-- like thunder clouds that spake to babylon, and set those old chaldeans to their tasks.-- are then regalities all gilded masks? and now, good-morrow to "the muses' son of promise"; as for "the feats he yet may do," as we do not pretend to say, like himself, "muse of my native land am i inspired," we shall adhere to the safe old rule of _pauca verba_. we venture to make one small prophecy, that his bookseller will not a second time venture £ upon any thing he can write. it is a better and a wiser thing to be a starving apothecary than a starved poet; so back to the shop mr. john, back to plasters, pills, and ointment boxes, &c. but, for heaven's sake, young sangrado, be a little more sparing of extenuatives and soporifics in your practice than you have been in your poetry. z. on shelley [from _blackwood's magazine_, september, ] "prometheus unbound" whatever may be the difference of men's opinions concerning the measure of mr. shelley's poetical power, there is one point in regard to which all must be agreed, and that is his audacity. in the old days of the exulting genius of greece, aeschylus dared two things which astonished all men, and which still astonish them--to exalt contemporary men into the personages of majestic tragedies--and to call down and embody into tragedy, without degradation, the elemental spirits of nature and the deeper essences of divinity. we scarcely know whether to consider the _persians_ or the _prometheus bound_ as the most extraordinary display of what has always been esteemed the most audacious spirit that ever expressed its workings in poetry. but what shall we say of the young english poet who has now attempted, not only a flight as high as the highest of aeschylus, but the very flight of that father of tragedy--who has dared once more to dramatise prometheus--and, most wonderful of all, to dramatise the _deliverance_ of prometheus--which is known to have formed the subject of a lost tragedy of aeschylus no ways inferior in mystic elevation to that of the [greek: desmotaes]. although a fragment of that perished master-piece be still extant in the latin version of attius--it is quite impossible to conjecture what were the personages introduced in the tragedy of aeschylus, or by what train of passions and events he was able to sustain himself on the height of that awful scene with which his surviving _prometheus_ terminates. it is impossible, however, after reading what is left of that famous trilogy,[ ] to suspect that the greek poet symbolized any thing whatever by the person of prometheus, except the native strength of human intellect itself--its strength of endurance above all others--its sublime power of patience. strength and force are the two agents who appear on this darkened theatre to bind the too benevolent titan--_wit_ and _treachery_, under the forms of mercury and oceanus, endeavour to prevail upon him to make himself free by giving up his dreadful secret;-- but _strength_ and _force_, and _wit_ and _treason_, are all alike powerless to overcome the resolution of that suffering divinity, or to win from him any acknowledgment of the new tyrant of the skies. such was this simple and sublime allegory in the hands of aeschylus. as to what had been the original purpose of the framers of the allegory, that is a very different question, and would carry us back into the most hidden places of the history of mythology. no one, however, who compares the mythological systems of different races and countries, can fail to observe the frequent occurrence of certain great leading ideas and leading symbolisations of ideas too--which christians are taught to contemplate with a knowledge that is the knowledge of reverence. such, among others, are unquestionably the ideas of an incarnate divinity suffering on account of mankind--conferring benefits on mankind at the expense of his own suffering;--the general idea of vicarious atonement itself--and the idea of the dignity of suffering as an exertion of intellectual might--all of which may be found, more or less obscurely shadowed forth, in the original [greek: mythos] of prometheus the titan, the enemy of the successful rebel and usurper jove. we might have also mentioned the idea of a _deliverer_, waited for patiently through ages of darkness, and at least arriving in the person of the child of io-- but, in truth, there is no pleasure, and would be little propriety, in seeking to explain all this at greater length, considering, what we cannot consider without deepest pain, the very different views which have been taken of the original allegory by mr. percy bysshe shelley. [ ] there was another and an earlier play of aeschylus, prometheus the fire-stealer, which is commonly supposed to have made part of the series; but the best critics, we think, are of opinion, that that was entirely a satirical piece. it would be highly absurd to deny, that this gentleman has manifested very extraordinary powers of language and imagination in his treatment of the allegory, however grossly and miserably he may have tried to pervert its purpose and meaning. but of this more anon. in the meantime, what can be more deserving of reprobation than the course which he is allowing his intellect to take, and that too at the very time when he ought to be laying the foundations of a lasting and honourable name. there is no occasion for going round about the bush to hint what the poet himself has so unblushingly and sinfully blazoned forth in every part of his production. with him, it is quite evident that the jupiter whose downfall has been predicted by prometheus, means nothing more than religion in general, that is, every human system of religious belief; and that, with the fall of this, he considers it perfectly necessary (as indeed we also believe, though with far different feelings) that every system of human government also should give way and perish. the patience of the contemplative spirit in prometheus is to be followed by the daring of the active demagorgon, at whose touch all "old thrones" are at once and for ever to be cast down into the dust. it appears too plainly, from the luscious pictures with which his play terminates, that mr. shelley looks forward to an unusual relaxation of all moral _rules_--or rather, indeed, to the extinction of all moral feelings, except that of a certain mysterious indefinable _kindliness_, as the natural and necessary result of the overthrow of all civil government and religious belief. it appears, still more wonderfully, that he contemplates this state of things as the ideal summum bonum. in short, it is quite impossible that there should exist a more pestiferous mixture of blasphemy, sedition, and sensuality, than is visible in the whole structure and strain of this poem--which, nevertheless, and notwithstanding all the detestation its principles excite, must and will be considered by all that read it attentively, as abounding in poetical beauties of the highest order--as presenting many specimens not easily to be surpassed, of the moral sublime of eloquence--as overflowing with pathos, and most magnificent in description. where can be found a spectacle more worthy of sorrow than such a man performing and glorying in the performance of such things? his evil ambition,--from all he has yet written, but most of all, from what he has last and best written, his _prometheus_,--appears to be no other, than that of attaining the highest place among those poets,--enemies, not friends, of their species, who, as a great and virtuous poet has well said (putting evil consequence close after evil cause). profane the god-given strength, and _mar the lofty line._ we should hold ourselves very ill employed, however, were we to enter at any length into the reprehensible parts of this remarkable production. it is sufficient to shew, that we have not been misrepresenting the purpose of the poet's mind, when we mention, that the whole tragedy ends with a mysterious sort of dance, and chorus of elemental spirits, and other indefinable beings, and that the spirit of the hour, one of the most singular of these choral personages, tells us: i wandering went among the haunts and dwellings of mankind, and first was disappointed not to see such mighty change as i had felt within expressed in other things; but soon i looked, and behold! thrones were kingless, and men walked one with the other, even as spirits do, etc. * * * * * we cannot conclude without saying a word or two in regard to an accusation which we have lately seen brought against ourselves in some one of the london magazines; we forget which at this moment. we are pretty sure we know who the author of that most false accusation is--of which more hereafter. he has the audacious insolence to say, that we praise mr. shelley, although we dislike his principles, just because we know that he is not in a situation of life to be in any danger of suffering pecuniary inconvenience from being run down by critics, and, _vice versâ_, abuse hunt, keats, and hazlitt, and so forth, because we know that they are poor men; a fouler imputation could not be thrown on any writer than this creature has dared to throw on us; nor a more utterly false one; we repeat the word again--than this is when thrown upon us. we have no personal acquaintance with any of these men, and no personal feelings in regard to any one of them, good or bad. we never even saw any one of their faces. as for mr. keats, we are informed that he is in a very bad state of health, and that his friends attribute a great deal of it to the pain he has suffered from the critical castigation his endymion drew down on him in this magazine. if it be so, we are most heartily sorry for it, and have no hesitation in saying, that had we suspected that young author, of being so delicately nerved, we should have administered our reproof in a much more lenient shape and style. the truth is, we from the beginning saw marks of feeling and power in mr. keats's verses, which made us think it very likely, he might become a real poet of england, provided he could be persuaded to give up all the tricks of cockneyism, and forswear for ever the thin potations of mr. leigh hunt. we, therefore, rated him as roundly as we decently could do, for the flagrant affectations of those early productions of his. in the last volume he has published, we find more beauties than in the former, both of language and of thought, but we are sorry to say, we find abundance of the same absurd affectations also, and superficial conceits, which first displeased us in his writings;--and which we are again very sorry to say, must in our opinion, if persisted in, utterly and entirely prevent mr. keats from ever taking his place among the pure and classical poets of his mother tongue. it is quite ridiculous to see how the vanity of these cockneys makes them overrate their own importance, even in the eyes of us, that have always expressed such plain unvarnished contempt for them, and who do feel for them all, a contempt too calm and profound, to admit of any admixture of any thing like anger or personal spleen. we should just as soon think of being wroth with vermin, independently of their coming into our apartment, as we should of having any feelings at all about any of these people, other than what are excited by seeing them in the shape of authors. many of them, considered in any other character than that of authors are, we have no doubt, entitled to be considered as very worthy people in their own way. mr. hunt is said to be a very amiable man in his own sphere, and we believe him to be so willingly. mr. keats we have often heard spoken of in terms of great kindness, and we have no doubt his manners and feelings are calculated to make his friends love him. but what has all this to do with our opinion of their poetry? what, in the name of wonder, does it concern us, whether these men sit among themselves, with mild or with sulky faces, eating their mutton steaks, and drinking their porter at highgate, hampstead, or lisson green? what is there that should prevent us, or any other person, that happens not to have been educated in the university of little britain, from expressing a simple, undisguised, and impartial opinion, concerning the merits or demerits of men that we never saw, nor thought of for one moment, otherwise than as in their capacity of authors? what should hinder us from saying, since we think so, that mr. leigh hunt is a clever wrong-headed man, whose vanities have got inwoven so deeply into him, that he has no chance of ever writing one line of classical english, or thinking one genuine english thought, either about poetry or politics? what is the spell that must seal our lips, from uttering an opinion equally plain and perspicuous concerning mr. john keats, viz., that nature possibly meant him to be a much better poet than mr. leigh hunt ever could have been, but that, if he persists in imitating the faults of that writer, he must be contented to share his fate, and be like him forgotten? last of all, what should forbid us to announce our opinion, that mr. shelley, as a man of genius, is not merely superior, either to mr. hunt, or to mr. keats, but altogether out of their sphere, and totally incapable of ever being brought into the most distant comparison with either of them. it is very possible, that mr. shelley himself might not be inclined to place himself so high above these men as we do, but that is his affair, not ours. we are afraid that he shares, (at least with one of them) in an abominable system of belief, concerning man and the world, the sympathy arising out of which common belief, may probably sway more than it ought to do on both sides. but the truth of the matter is this, and it is impossible to conceal it were we willing to do so, that mr. shelley is destined to leave a great name behind him, and that we, as lovers of true genius, are most anxious that this name should ultimately be pure as well as great. as for the principles and purposes of mr. shelley's poetry, since we must again recur to that dark part of the subject; we think they are on the whole, more undisguisedly pernicious in this volume, than even in his revolt of islam. there is an ode to liberty at the end of the volume, which contains passages of the most splendid beauty, but which, in point of meaning, is just as wicked as any thing that ever reached the world under the name of mr. hunt himself. it is not difficult to fill up the blank which has been left by the prudent bookseller, in one of the stanzas beginning: o that the free would stamp the impious name, of ----- into the dust! or write it there so that this blot upon the page of fame, were as a serpent's path, which the light air erases, etc., etc. but the next speaks still more plainly: o that the wise from their bright minds would kindle such lamps within the dome of this wide world, that the pale name of priest might shrink and dwindle into the hell from which it first was hurled! this is exactly a versification of the foulest sentence that ever issued from the lips of voltaire. let us hope that percy bysshe shelley is not destined to leave behind him, like that great genius, a name for ever detestable to the truly free and the truly wise. he talks in his preface about milton, as a "republican," and a "bold inquirer into morals and religion." could any thing make us despise mr. shelley's understanding, it would be such an instance of voluntary blindness as this! let us hope, that ere long a lamp of genuine truth may be kindled within his "bright mind"; and that he may walk in its light the path of the true demigods of english genius, having, like them, learned to "fear god and honour the king." the westminster review started in to represent radical opinions, the _westminster_ was associated, in its palmy days, with such "persons of importance" as george eliot, george henry lewes, and j.s. mill, retaining to the present moment an isolated preference for the expression of unconventional, and often _outré_ opinions. it has always been somewhat fanatical and, now that really distinguished writers seldom enter its pages, has become associated, in the general view, with the promotion of fads. john stuart mill ( - ) though mill's principle work was of a highly expert and technical nature, he had the rare power of conveying accurate expressions of sound thoughts in popular language; and he was conspicuous for the moral fervour of his opinions in practical politics. his fascinating autobiography is absolutely sincere, and very copious, in its revelations. it has been said, moreover, that he was "more at pains to conceal his originality" than "most writers are to set forth" this quality: and it was this characteristic which inspired his broad-minded conduct of the _london review_, soon incorporated with the _westminster_, which, after ten years as a contributor, he edited from , and owned from until . here he made "a noble experiment to endeavour to combine opposites, and to maintain a perpetual attitude of sympathy with hostile opinions." it was officially, the organ of utilitarianism; but articles were frequently inserted requiring the editorial _caveat_. it was the friend of liberty in every shape and form. in a philosophic writer whose style was admittedly always literary, it is of special interest to notice that he so frequently chose a volume of poetry to review himself: and no better example of this work can be found than the following critique of tennyson, which, again, may be most profitably compared with gladstone's. it proves that he loved poetry for its own sake. the notice of macaulay's lays further illustrates his interesting _theories_ of poetry. john sterling ( - ) it is the remarkable fate of sterling, leaving behind him no work of permanent distinction--to have been the subject of two biographies by persons of far greater importance than his--archdeacon hare and thomas carlyle. the editorial foot-note affixed to the following review, in which mill describes him as "one of our most valued contributors" provides further evidence of what his contemporaries expected of "poor sterling." "a loose, careless looking, thin figure," says carlyle, "in careless dim costume, sat, in a lounging posture, carelessly and copiously talking. i was struck with the kindly but restless swift-glancing eyes, which looked as if the spirits were all out coursing like a pack of merry eager beagles, beating every bush.... a smile, half of kindly impatience, half of real mirth, often sat on his face." sterling wrote poetry, essays, and stories, largely inspired by capricious enthusiasms. the son of an editor of _the times_, he was, for a short time owner of _the athenaeum_, and also a curate under hare. since carlyle's "extraordinary elegy, apology, eulogium" is itself a classic, particular interest attaches itself to sterling's generous estimate of the man destined to make him immortal. j.s. mill on tennyson [from _the westminster review_, january, ] _poems, chiefly lyrical._ by alfred tennyson. wilson, mo. . it would be a pity that poetry should be an exception to the great law of progression that obtains in human affairs; and it is not. the machinery of a poem is not less susceptible of improvement than the machinery of a cotton mill; nor is there any better reason why the one should retrograde from the days of milton, than the other from those of arkwright.... the old epics will probably never be surpassed, any more than the old coats of mail; and for the same reason; nobody wants the article; its object is accomplished by other means; they are become mere curiosities.... poetry, like charity, begins at home. poetry, like morality, is founded in the precept, know thyself. poetry, like happiness, is in the human heart. its inspiration is of that which is in man, and it will never fail because there are changes in costume and grouping. what is the vitality of the iliad? character; nothing else. all the rest is only read out of antiquarianism or of affectation. why is shakespeare the greatest of poets? because he was one of the greatest of philosophers. we reason on the conduct of his characters with as little hesitation as if they were real living human beings. extent of observation, accuracy of thought, and depth of reflection, were the qualities which won the prize of sovereignty for his imagination, and the effect of these qualities was practically to anticipate, so far as was needful for his purposes, the mental philosophy of a future age. metaphysics must be the stem of poetry for the plant to thrive; but if the stem flourishes we are not likely to be at a loss for leaves, flowers, and fruit. now, whatever theories may have come into fashion and gone out of fashion, the real science of mind advances with the progress of society like all other sciences. the poetry of the last forty years already shows symptoms of life in exact proportion as it is imbued with this science. there is least of it in the exotic legends of southey, and the feudal romances of scott. more of it, though in different ways, in byron and campbell. in shelley there would have been more still, had he not devoted himself to unsound and mystical theories. most of all in coleridge and wordsworth. they are all going or gone; but here is a little book as thoroughly and unitedly metaphysical and poetical in its spirit as any of them; and sorely shall we be disappointed in its author if it be not the precursor of a series of productions which shall beautifully illustrate our speculations, and convincingly prove their soundness. do not let our readers be alarmed. these poems are anything but heavy; anything but stiff and pedantic, except in one particular, which shall be noticed before we conclude; anything but cold and logical. they are graceful, very graceful; they are animated, touching, and impassioned. and they are so, precisely because they are philosophical; because they are not made up of metrical cant and conventional phraseology; because there is sincerity where the author writes from experience, and accuracy whether he writes from experience or observation; and he only writes from experience and observation, because he has felt and thought, and learned to analyse thought and feeling; because his own mind is rich in poetical associations, and he has wisely been content with its riches; and because, in his composition, he has not sought to construct an elaborate and artificial harmony, but only to pour forth his thoughts in those expressive and simple melodies whose meaning, truth, and power, are the soonest recognised, and the quickest felt.... mr. tennyson seems to obtain entrance into a mind as he would make his way into a landscape; he climbs the pineal gland as if it were a hill in the centre of the scene; looks around on all objects with their varieties of form, their movements, their shades of colour, and their mutual relations and influences, and forthwith produces as graphic a delineation in the one case as wilson or gainsborough could have done in the other, to the great enrichment of our gallery of intellectual scenery.... our author has the secret of the transmigration of the soul. he can cast his own spirit into any living thing, real or imaginary.... "mariana" is, we are disposed to think, although there are several poems which rise up reproachfully in our recollection as we say so, altogether, the most perfect composition in the volume. the whole of this poem, of eighty-four lines, is generated by the legitimate process of poetical creation, as that process is conducted in a philosophical mind, from a half sentence in shakespeare. there is no mere samplification; it is all production, and production from that single germ. that must be a rich intellect, in which thoughts thus take root and grow.... a considerable number of the poems are amatory; they are the expression not of heathen sensuality, nor of sickly refinement, nor of fantastic devotion, but of manly love; and they illustrate the philosophy of the passion while they exhibit the various phases of its existence and embody its power.... mr. tennyson sketches females as well as ever did sir thomas lawrence. his portraits are delicate, his likenesses (we will answer for them), perfect, and they have life, character, and individuality. they are nicely assorted also to all the different gradations of emotion and passion which are expressed in common with the descriptions of them. there is an appropriate object for every shade of feeling, from the light touch of a passing admiration, to the triumphant madness of soul and sense, or the deep and everlasting anguish of survivorship.... that these poems will have a rapid and extensive popularity we do not anticipate. their very originality will prevent their being appreciated for a time. but that time will come, we hope, to a not far distant end. they demonstrate the possession of powers, to the future direction of which we look with some anxiety. a genuine poet has deep responsibilities to his country and the world, to the present and future generations, to earth and heaven. he, of all men, should have distinct and worthy objects before him, and consecrate himself to their promotion. it is then he best consults the glory of his art, and his own lasting fame. mr. tennyson has a dangerous quality in that facility of impersonation on which we have remarked, and by which he enters so thoroughly into the most strange and wayward idiosyncracies of other men. it must not degrade him into a poetical harlequin. he has higher work to do than that of disporting himself among "mystics" and "flowing philosophers." he knows that "the poet's mind is holy ground"; he knows that the poet's portion is to be dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, the love of love; he has shown, in the lines from which we quote, his own just conception of the grandeur of the poet's destiny; and we look to him for its fulfilment. it is not for such men to sink into mere verse-makers for the amusement of themselves or others. they can influence the associations of unnumbered minds; they can command the sympathies of unnumbered hearts; they can disseminate principles; they can give those principles power over men's imaginations; they can excite in a good cause the sustained enthusiasm that is sure to conquer; they can blast the laurels of tyrants, and hallow the memories of the martyrs' patriotism; they can act with a force, the extent of which it is difficult to estimate, upon national feelings and character, and consequently upon national happiness. mill on macaulay's "lays" [from _the westminster review_. february, ] it is with the two great masters of modern ballad poetry (campbell and scott) that mr. macaulay's performances are really to be compared, and not with the real ballads or epics of an early age. the "lays," in point of form, are not in the least like the genuine productions of a primitive age or people, and it is no blame to mr. macaulay that they are not. he professes imitation of homer, but we really see no resemblance, except in the nature of some of the incidents, and the animation and vigour of the narrative; and the "iliad," after all, is not the original ballads of the trojan war, but these ballads moulded together, and wrought into the forms of a more civilised and cultivated age. it is difficult to conjecture what the form of the old roman ballad may have been, and certain, that whatever they were, they could no more satisfy the aesthetic requirements of modern culture, than an ear accustomed to the great organs of freyburg or harlem could relish orpheus's hurdy-gurdy, although the airs which orpheus played, if they could be recovered, might perhaps be executed with great effect on the more perfect instrument. the former of mr. macaulay's ballad poetry are essentially modern: they are those of the romantic and chivalrous, not the classical ages, and even in those they are a reproduction, not of the originals, but of the imitations of scott. in this we think he has done well, for scott's style is as near to that of the ancient ballad as we conceive to be at all compatible with real popular effect on the modern mind. the difference between the two may be seen by the most cursory comparison of any real old ballad, "chevy chase," for instance, with last canto of marmion, or with any of these "lays." conciseness is the characteristic of the real ballad, diffuseness of the modern adaptation. the old bard did everything by single touches; scott and mr. macaulay by repetition and accumulation of particulars. they produce all their effect by what they _say_; he by what he _suggested_; by what he stimulated the imagination to paint for itself. but then the old ballads were not written for the light reading of tired readers. to do the work in _their_ way, they required to be brooded over, or had at least the aid of tune and of impassioned recitation. stories which are to be told to children in the age of eagerness and excitability, or sung in banquet halls to assembled warriors, whose daily ideas and feelings supply a flood of comment ready to gush forth on the slightest hint of the poet, cannot fly too swift and straight to the mark. but mr. macaulay wrote to be only read, and by readers for whom it was necessary to do all. these poems, therefore, are not the worse for being un-roman in their form; and in their substance they are roman to a degree which deserves great admiration. mr. macaulay's prose writings had not prepared us for the power which he has here manifested of identifying himself easily and completely, with states of feeling and modes of life alien to modern experience. nobody could have previously doubted that he possessed fancy, but he has added to it the higher faculty of imagination. we have not been able to detect, in the four poems, one idea or feeling which was not, or might not have been roman; while the externals of roman life, and the feelings characteristic of rome and of that particular age, are reproduced with great felicity, and without being made unduly predominant over the universal features of human nature and human life. independently therefore of their value as poems, these compositions are a real service rendered to historical literature; and the author has made this service greater by his prefaces, which will do more than the work of a hundred dissertations in rendering that true conception of early roman history, the irrefragable establishment of which has made niebuhr illustrious, familiar to the minds of general readers. this is no trifling matter, even in relation to present interests, for there is no estimating the injury which the cause of popular institutions has suffered, and still suffers from misrepresentations of the early condition of the roman and plebs, and its noble struggles against its taskmasters. and the study of the manner in which the heroic legends of early rome grew up as poetry and gradually became history, has important bearings on the general laws of historical evidence, and on the many things which, as philosophy advances, are more and more seen to be therewith connected. on this subject mr. macaulay has not only presented, in an agreeable form, the results of previous speculation, but has, though in an entirely unpretending manner, thrown additional light upon it by his own remarks: as where he shows, by incontestible instances, that a similar transformation of poetic fiction into history has taken place on various occasions in modern and sceptical times.... we are more disposed to break a lance with our author on the general merits of roman literature, which, by a heresy not new with him, he sacrifices, in what appears to us a most unfair degree, on the score of its inferior originality to the grecian. it is true the romans had no aeschylus nor sophocles, and but a secondhand homer, though this last was not only the most finished but even the most original of imitators. but where was the greek model of the noble poem of lucretius? what, except the mere idea, did the georgics borrow from hesiod? and whoever thinks of comparing the two poems? where, in homer or the euripides, will be found the original of the tender and pathetic passages in the aeneid, especially the exquisitely told story of dido? there is no extraordinary merit in the "carmen secculare" as we have it, the only production of horace which challenges comparison with pindar; although we are not among those who deem pindar one of the brightest stars in the greek heaven. but from whom are the greater part of horace's _carmina_ borrowed (they should never be termed odes), any more than those of burns or béranger, the analogous authors in modern times? and by what greek minor poems are they surpassed? we say nothing of catullus, whom some competent judges prefer to horace. does the lyric, then, or even the epic poetry of the romans, deserve no better title than that of "a hot-house plant, which, in return for assiduous and skilful culture, yielded only scanty and sickly fruits?" the complete originality and eminent merit of their satiric poetry, mr. macaulay himself acknowledges. as for prose, we give up cicero as compared with demosthenes, but with no one else; and is livy less original, or less admirable, than herodotus? tacitus may have imitated, even to affectation, the condensation of thucydides, as milton imitated the greek and hebrew poets; but was the mind of the one as essentially original as that of the other? is the roman less an unapprochable master, in his peculiar line, that of sentimental history, than the grecian in his? and what greek historian has written anything similar or comparable to the sublime peroration of the _life of agricola_? the latin genius lay not in speculation, and the romans did undoubtedly borrow all their philosophical principles from the greeks. their originality _there_, as is well said by a remarkable writer in the most remarkable of his works,[ ] consisted in taking these principles _au serieux_. they _did_ what the others talked about. zeno, indeed, was not a roman; but poetus thrasea and marcus antoninus were. [ ] mr. maurice, in the essay on the history of moral speculation and culture, which forms the article "moral and metaphysical philosophy" in the _encyclopaedia metropolitana._ john sterling on carlyle [from _london and westminster review_ october, ] all countries at all times require, and england perhaps at the present not less than others, men having a faith at once distinct and large, the expression of what is best in their times, and having also the courage to proclaim it, and take their stand upon it.... but in our day such visionaries are less and less possible. the spread of shallow but clear knowledge, like the cold snow-water issuing from the glaciers, daily chills and disenchants the hearts of millions once credulous. daily, therefore, does it become more probable that millions will follow in the track of those who are called their betters. thus will they find in the world nothing but an epicurean stye, to be managed, with less dirt and better food, by patent steam-machinery; but still a place for swine, though the swine may be washed, and their victuals more equally divided. is it not then strange that in such a world, in such a country, and among those light-hearted edinburgh reviewers, a man should rise and proclaim a creed; not a new and more ingenious form of words, but a truth to be embraced with the whole heart, and in which the heart shall find as he has found, strength for all combats, and consolation, though stern not festal, under all sorrows? amid the masses of english printing sent forth every day, part designed for the most trivial entertainment, part black with the narrowest and most lifeless sectarian dogmatism, part, and perhaps the best, exhibiting only facts and theories in physical science, and part filled with the vulgarest economical projects and details, which would turn all life into a process of cookery, culinary, political, or sentimental--how few writings are there that contain like these a distinct doctrine as to the position and calling of man, capable of affording nourishment to the heart, and support to the will, and in harmony at the same time with the social state of the world, and with the most enlarged and brightened insight which human wisdom has yet attained to? we have been so little prepared to look for such an appearance that it is difficult for us to realize the conception of a genuine coherent view of life thus presented to us in a book of our day, which shall be neither a slight compendium of a few moral truisms, flavoured with a few immoral refinements and paradoxes, such as constitute the floating ethics and religion of the time; nor a fierce and gloomy distortion of some eternal idea torn from its pure sphere of celestial light to be raved about by the ignorant whom it has half-enlightened, and half made frantic. but here, in our judgment--that is, in the judgment of one man who speaks considerately what he fixedly believes--we have the thought of a wide, and above all, of a deep soul, which has expressed in fitting words, the fruits of patient reflection, of piercing observation, of knowledge many-sided and conscientious, of devoutest awe and faithfullest love.... the clearness of the eye to see whatever is permanent and substantial, and the fervour and strength of heart to love it as the sole good of life, are, in our view, mr. carlyle's pre-eminent characteristics, as those of every man entitled to the fame of the most generous order of greatness. not to paint the good which he sees and loves, or see it painted, and enjoy the sight; not to understand it, and exult in the knowledge of it; but to take his position upon it, and for it alone to breathe, to move, to fight, to mourn, and die--this is the destination which he has chosen for himself. his avowal of it and exhortation to do the like is the object of all his writings. and, reasonably considered, it is no small service to which he is thus bound. for the real, the germinal truth of nature, is not a dead series of physical phenomena into the like of which all phenomena are cunningly to be explained away. this pulseless, rigid iron frame-work, on which the soft soil of human life is placed, and above which its aërial flowers and foliage rise, does not pass with him for the essential and innermost principle of all. it is rather that which, being itself poorest, the poorest of faculties can apprehend. as physical mechanism, it is that which is most palpable, and undeniable by any, because it is that which lies nearest the nothingness whence it has been hardly rescued, and is therefore, most akin to minds in whose meanness of structure or culture, even human existence might seem scarce better than nothingness. he knows, few in our nation so well, that of a world of new machinery, the highest king and priest would be the neatest clockwork figure. and in such a world, a being feeling ever towards or somewhat beyond what he can weigh and measure, and looking up to find above himself that which is too high for him to understand, would be an anomaly as lawless and incredible as the wildest fabled monster, the minotaur or the chimera, the titan--the sphynx itself--nay a more delirious riddle than any that in dreams it proposes to us. on the other hand, neither is for him the solid, abiding, inexhaustible, that merely which is received as such by the popular acquiescence. it must needs be a truth which the spirit, cleared and strengthened by manifold knowledge and experience, and above all by steadfast endeavour, can rest in and say: this i mean; not because it is told me, were my informants all the schools of rabbins or a hierarchy of angels; but because i have looked into it, tried it, found it healthful and sufficient, and thus know that it will stand the stress of life. we may be right or wrong in our estimate of mr. carlyle, but we cannot be mistaken in supposing that on this kind of anvil have all truly great men been fashioned, and of metal thus honest and enduring. further it must be said that, true as is his devotion to the truth, so flaming and cordial is his hatred of the false, in whatever shapes and names delusions may show themselves. affectations, quackeries, tricks, frauds, swindlings, commercial or literary, baseless speculations, loud ear-catching rhetoric, melodramatic sentiment, moral drawlings and hyperboles, religious cant, clever political shifts, and conscious or half-conscious fallacies, all in his view, come under the same hangman's rubric,--proceed from the same offal heart. however plausible, popular, and successful, however dignified by golden and purple names, they are lies against ourselves, against whatever in us is not altogether reprobate and infernal. his great argument, theme of his song, spirit of his language, lies in this, that there is a work for man worth doing, which is to be done with the whole of his heart, not the half or any other fraction. therefore, if any reserve be made, any corner kept for something unconnected with this true work and sincere purpose, the whole is thereby vitiated and accurst. so far as his arm reaches he is undoing whatever in nature is holy: ruining whatever is the real creation of the great worker of all. this truth of purpose is to the soul what life is to the body of man; that which unites and organises the mass, keeping all the parts in due proportion and concord, and restraining them from sudden corruption into worthless dust.... anyone who should take up the writings themselves with no other preconception than that which we have attempted to give him, would doubtless be startled at the strangeness of the style which prevails more or less throughout them. they are not careless, headstrong, passionate, confused; but they bear a constant look of oddity which seems at first mere wilful wantonness, and which we only afterwards find to be the discriminating stamp of original and strong feeling. this-- this feeling, rooted in profound susceptibility and matured into a central vivifying power--is, we should say, the author's most extraordinary distinction. for it is not the ostentatious, impetuous sentiment, which calls, a sufficient audience being by, on heaven and earth for sympathy, and would wish for that of tartarus too, as an additional acknowledgment of its sublime sincerity. here, on the contrary, the feeling is not that which the man is proud of, and would fain exhibit. he shrinks from the profession, nay from the sense of it; even painfully labours to trifle, and be at ease, that he may hide from others, and may for himself forget, the thorny fagot load of his own emotions. yet make them known he must; for they are not those of some private personal grief or passion, from which he may escape into literature or science, and leave his pains and longings behind him; but his sensibilities are burning with a slow, immense fire, kindled by the very theme on which he writes, and compelling him to write. the greatness and weakness, the infinite hopes and unquenchable reality of human life; the aching pressure of the body and its wants on the myriads of millions in whom celestial force sleeps and dreams of hell; the sight of follies, frauds, cruelties, and lascivious luxury in the midst of a race then endowed and thus suffering; and the unconquerable will and thought with which the few work out the highest calling of all men; these it is, and not self-indulging distresses and theatrical aspirations of his own, which boil and storm within. therefore does he speak with the solid strength and energy, which gives so serious and rugged an aspect to his sentences; while, perpetually checking himself, from a wise man's shame at excessive emotion, and from the knowledge that others will but half sympathise with him, he adds to his most weighty utterances a turn of irony which relieves the excessive strain.... add to this, that mr. carlyle's resolution to convey his meaning at all hazards, makes him seize the most effectual and sudden words in spite of usage and fashionable taste; and that, therefore, when he can get a brighter tint, a more expressive form, by means of some strange--we must call it--carlylism; english, scotch, german, greek, latin, french, technical, slang, american, or lunar, or altogether superlunar, transcendental, and drawn from the eternal nowhere--he uses it with a courage which might blast an academy of lexicographers into a hades, void even of vocables.... here must end our remarks on the admirable writings of a great man. could it be hoped, that by what has been said, any readers, and especially any thinkers, will be led to give them the attention they require, but also deserve, in this there would be ample repayment, even were there not at all events a higher reward, for the labour, which is not a slight one, of forming and assorting distinct opinions on a matter so singular and so complex. for few bonds that unite human beings are purer or happier than a common understanding and reverence of what is truly wise and beautiful. this also is religion. standing at the threshold of these works, we may imitate the saying of the old philosopher to the friends who visited him on their return from the temples--let us enter, for here too are gods. fraser's magazine william makepeace thackeray ( - ) there can be no occasion to enlarge upon this generous tribute of one of the greatest of our victorian novelists to another. considering how inevitably the critic is driven to compare these two, if not to set one up against the other, we can experience no feeling but pleasure and pride in humanity, before the evidence of their mutual appreciation. _the cornhill_ "in memoriam" article of charles dickens may well stand beside this burst of glowing enthusiasm. we have retained, by way of illustrating our general subject, a paragraph from the earlier part of the article, in which thackeray falls foul of reviewers in general, for characteristics from which he himself was singularly free. charles kingsley ( - ) the brilliant versatility of kingsley's work will prepare us, in some measure, for his virile impatience, here revealed, with elements in the romantic revival of poetry among his contemporaries, which were an offence to his "muscular" morality. "there are certain qualities which may be called moral in all his work, evincing a literary faculty of the highest kind. always instructive without being exactly instructed, always argumentative without being very guarded in argument, he yet displays a marvellously contagious enthusiasm for his own creeds, and surrounds his own ideals with an atmosphere of passionate nobility. we forgive the partisanship for the sincerity of the partisan." * * * * * alexander smith ( - ) was a poet and essayist of some distinction; though a. h. clough also criticises his exclusive devotion to the "writers of his own immediate time"; and calls him "the latest disciple of the school of keats." the volume of essays entitled _dreamthorp_ "entitles him to a place among the best writers of english prose." anonymous there is a similarity, and a difference, between this summary of christmas literature and thackeray's. the personal criticism lacks his special geniality, revealing rather a tone which would have perfectly suited blackwood or the _quarterly_. lytton was a favourite subject of abuse to his contemporaries. thackeray on dickens [from "a box of novels," _fraser's magazine_, february, ] mr. titmarsh, in switzerland, to mr. yorke ...this introduction, then, will have prepared you for an exceedingly humane and laudatory notice of the packet of works which you were good enough to send me, and which, though they doubtless contain a great deal that the critic would not write (from the extreme delicacy of his taste and the vast range of his learning) also contain, between ourselves, a great deal that the critic _could_ not write if he would ever so; and this is a truth which critics are sometimes apt to forget in their judgments of works of fiction. as a rustical boy, hired at twopence a week, may fling stones at the blackbirds and drive them off and possibly hit one or two, yet if he get into the hedge and begin to sing, he will make a wretched business of the music, and labin and colin and the dullest swains of the village will laugh egregiously at his folly; so the critic employed to assault the poet.... but the rest of the simile is obvious, and will be apprehended at once by a person of your experience. the fact is, that the blackbirds of letters--the harmless, kind singing creatures who line the hedge-sides and chirp and twitter as nature bade them (they can no more help singing, these poets, than a flower can help smelling sweet), have been treated much too ruthlessly by the watch-boys of the press, who have a love for flinging stones at the little innocents, and pretend that it is their duty, and that every wren or sparrow is likely to destroy a whole field of wheat, or to turn out a monstrous bird of prey. leave we these vain sports and savage pastimes of youth, and turn we to the benevolent philosophy of maturer age. * * * * * and now there is but one book left in the box, the smallest one, but oh! how much the best of all. it is the work of the master of all the english humourists now alive; the young man who came and took his place calmly at the head of the whole tribe, and who has kept it. think of all we owe mr. dickens since these half-dozen years, the store of happy hours that he has made us pass, the kindly and pleasant companions whom he has introduced to us, the harmless laughter, the generous wit, the frank, manly, human love which he has taught us to feel! every month of these years has brought us some kind token from this delightful genius. his books may have lost in art, perhaps, but could we afford to wait? since the days when the _spectator_ was produced by a man of kindred mind and temper, what books have appeared that have taken so affectionate a hold of the english public as these? they have made millions of rich and poor happy; they might have been locked up for nine years, doubtless, and pruned here and there, and improved (which i doubt) but where would have been the reader's benefit all this time, while the author was elaborating his performance? would the communication between the writer and the public have been what it is now--something continual, confidential, something like personal affection? i do not know whether these stories are written for future ages; many sage critics doubt on this head. there are always such conjurors to tell literary fortunes; and, to my certain knowledge, boz, according to them, has been sinking regularly these six years. i doubt about that mysterious writing for futurity which certain big wigs prescribe. snarl has a chance, certainly. his works, which have not been read in this age, _may_ be read in future; but the receipt for that sort of writing has never as yet been clearly ascertained. shakespeare did not write for futurity, he wrote his plays for the same purpose which inspires the pen of alfred bunn, esquire, viz., to fill his theatre royal. and yet we read shakespeare now. le sage and fielding wrote for their public; and through the great dr. johnson put his peevish protest against the fame of the latter, and voted him "a dull dog, sir,--a low fellow," yet somehow harry fielding has survived in spite of the critic, and parson adams is at this minute as real a character, as much loved by us as the old doctor himself. what a noble, divine power of genius this is, which, passing from the poet into his reader's soul, mingles with it, and there engenders, as it were, real creatures; which is as strong as history, which creates beings that take their place besides nature's own. all that we know of don quixote or louis xiv we got to know in the same way--out of a book. i declare i love sir roger de coverley quite as much as izaak walton, and have just as clear a consciousness of the looks, voice, habit, and manner of being of the one as of the other. and so with regard to this question of futurity; if any benevolent being of the present age is imbued with a desire to know what his great-great-grandchild will think of this or that author--of mr. dickens especially, whose claims to fame have raised the question--the only way to settle it is by the ordinary historic method. did not your great-great-grandfather love and delight in don quixote and sancho panza? have they lost their vitality by their age? don't they move laughter and awaken affection now as three hundred years ago? and so with don pickwick and sancho weller, if their gentle humours and kindly wit, and hearty benevolent natures, touch us and convince us, as it were, now, why should they not exist for our children as well as for us, and make the twenty-fifth century happy, as they have the nineteenth? let snarl console himself, then, as to the future. as for the _christmas carol_, or any other book of a like nature which the public takes upon itself to criticise, the individual critic had quite best hold his peace. one remembers what buonaparte replied to some austrian critics, of much correctness and acumen, who doubted about acknowledging the french republic. i do not mean that the _christmas carol_ is quite as brilliant or self-evident as the sun at noonday; but it is so spread over england by this time, that no sceptic, no _fraser's magazine_,--no, not even the godlike and ancient _quarterly_ itself (venerable, saturnian, big-wigged dynasty!) could review it down. "unhappy people! deluded race!" one hears the cauliflowered god exclaim, mournfully shaking the powder out of his ambrosial curls, "what strange new folly is this? what new deity do you worship? know ye what ye do? know ye that your new idol hath little latin and less greek? know ye that he has never tasted the birch at eton, nor trodden the flags of carfax, nor paced the academic flats of trumpington? know ye that in mathematics, or logic, this wretched ignoramus is not fit to hold a candle to a wooden spoon? see ye not how, from describing law humours, he now, forsooth, will attempt the sublime? discern ye not his faults of taste, his deplorable propensity to write blank verse? come back to your ancient, venerable, and natural instructors. leave this new, low and intoxicating draught at which ye rush, and let us lead you back to the old wells of classic lore. come and repose with us there. we are your gods; we are the ancient oracles, and no mistake. come listen to us once more, and we will sing to you the mystic numbers of _as in presenti_ under the arches of the _pons asinorum_." but the children of the present generation hear not; for they reply, "rush to the strand, and purchase five thousand more copies of the _christmas carol_." in fact, one might as well detail the plot of the _merry wives of windsor_ or _robinson crusoe_, as recapitulate here the adventures of scrooge the miser, and his christmas conversion. i am not sure that the allegory is a very complete one, and protest, with the classics, against the use of blank verse in prose; but here all objections stop. who can listen to objections regarding such a book as this? it seems to me a national benefit, and to every man or woman who reads it a personal kindness. the last two people i heard speak of it were women; neither knew the other, or the author, and both said, by way of criticism, "god bless him!" a scotch philosopher, who nationally does not keep christmas, on reading the book, sent out for a turkey, and asked two friends to dine--this is a fact! many men were known to sit down after perusing it, and write off letters to their friends, not about business, but out of their fulness of heart, and to wish old acquaintances a happy christmas. had the book appeared a fortnight earlier, all the prize cattle would have been gobbled up in pure love and friendship, epping denuded of sausages, and not a turkey left in norfolk. his royal highness's fat stock would have fetched unheard of prices, and alderman bannister would have been tired of slaying. but there is a christmas for too; the book will be as early then as now, and so let speculators look out. as for tiny tim, there is a certain passage in the book regarding that young gentleman, about which a man should hardly venture to speak in print or in public, any more than he would of any other affections of his private heart. there is not a reader in england but that little creature will be a bond of union between the author and him; and he will say of charles dickens, as the woman just now, "god bless him!" what a feeling is this for a writer to be able to inspire, and what a reward to reap. m. a. t. charles kingsley on alexander smith and alexander pope [from _fraser's magazine_, october, ] _poems_, by alexander smith. london, bogue. on reading this little book, and considering all the exaggerated praise and exaggerated blame which have been lavished on it, we could not help falling into many thoughts about the history of english poetry for the last forty years, and about its future destiny. great poets, even true poets, are becoming more and more rare among us. there are those even who say that we have none; an assertion which, as long as mr. tennyson lives, we shall take the liberty of denying. but, were he, which heaven forbid, taken from us, whom have we to succeed him? and he, too, is rather a poet of the sunset than of the dawn--of the autumn than of the spring. his gorgeousness is that of the solemn and fading year; not of its youth, full of hope, freshness, gay and unconscious life. like some stately hollyhock or dahlia of this month's gardens, he endures while all other flowers are dying; but all around is winter--a mild one, perhaps, wherein a few annuals or pretty field weeds still linger on; but, like all mild winters, especially prolific in fungi, which, too, are not without their gaudiness, even their beauty, although bred only from the decay of higher organisms, the plagiarists of the vegetable world.... "what matter, after all?" one says to oneself in despair, re-echoing mr. carlyle. "man was not sent into this world to write poetry. what we want is truth--what we want is activity. of the latter we have enough in all conscience just now. let the former need be provided for by honest and righteous history, and as for poets, let the dead bury their dead." ... and yet, after all, man will write poetry, in spite of mr. carlyle: nay, beings who are not men, but mere forked radishes, will write it. man is a poetry-writing animal. perhaps he was meant to be one. at all events, he can no more be kept from it than from eating. it is better, with mr. carlyle's leave, to believe that the existence of poetry indicates some universal human hunger, whether after "the beautiful," or after "fame," or after the means of paying butchers' bills, and accepting it as a necessary evil which must be committed, to see that it be committed as well, or at least a little ill, as possible. in excuse of which we may quote mr. carlyle against himself, reminding him of a saying in goethe once bepraised by him in print,--"we must take care of the beautiful for the useful will take care of itself." and never, certainly, since pope wrote his _dunciad_, did the beautiful require more taking care of, or evince less capacity for taking care of itself, and never, we must add, was less capacity for taking care of it evinced by its accredited guardians of the press than at this present time, if the reception given to mr. smith's poem is to be taken as a fair expression of "the public taste." now, let it be fairly understood, mr. alexander smith is not the object of our reproaches: but mr. smith's models and flatterers. against him we have nothing whatever to say; for him, very much indeed.... what if he has often copied.... he does not more than all schools have done, copy their own masters.... we by no means agree in the modern outcry for "originality." ... as for manner, he does sometimes, in imitating his models, out-herod herod. but why not? if herod be a worthy king, let him be by all means out-heroded, if any man can do it. one cannot have too much of a good thing. if it be right to bedizen verses with metaphors and similes which have no reference, either in tone or in subject, to the matter in hand, let there be as many of them as possible. if a saddle is a proper place for jewels, then let the seat be paved with diamonds and emeralds, and runjeet singh's harness maker be considered as a lofty artist, for whose barbaric splendour mr. peat and his melton customers are to forswear pigskin and severe simplicity--not to say utility, and comfort. if poetic diction be different in species from plain english, then let us have it as poetical as possible, as unlike english: as ungrammatical, abrupt, insolved, transposed, as the clumsiness, carelessness, or caprice of man can make it. if it be correct to express human thought by writing whole pages of vague and bald abstract metaphyric, and then trying to explain them by concrete concetti; which bear an entirely accidental and mystical likeness to the notion which they are to illustrate, then let the metaphysic be as abstract as possible, the concetti as fanciful and far-fetched as possible. if marino and cowley be greater poets than ariosto and milton, let young poets imitate the former with might and main, and avoid spoiling their style by any perusal of the too-intelligible common sense of the latter. if byron's moral (which used to be thought execrable) be really his great excellence, his style (which used to be thought almost perfect) unworthy of this age of progress, then let us have his moral without his style, his matter without his form; or--that we may be sure of never falling for a moment into his besetting sin of terseness, grace, and completeness--without any form at all. if poetry, in order to be worthy of the nineteenth century, ought to be as unlike as possible to homer or sophocles, virgil or horace, shakespeare or spenser, dante or tasso, let those too idolised names be rased henceforth from the calendar; let the _ars poetica_, be consigned to flames by mr. calcraft, and bartinus scriblerus's _art of sinking_ placed forthwith on the list of the committee of the council for education, that not a working man in england may be ignorant that, whatsoever superstitions about art may have haunted the benighted heathens who built the parthenon, _nous avons changés tout cela_. in one word, if it be best and most fitting to write poetry in the style in which almost everyone has been trying to write it since pope and plain sense went out, and shelley and the seventh heaven came in; let it be so written: and let him who most perfectly so "sets the age to music," be presented by the assembled guild of critics, not with the obsolete and too classical laurel, but with an electro-plated brass medal, bearing the due inscription, _ars est nescire artem_. and when, in twelve months' time, he finds himself forgotten, perhaps descried, for the sake of the next aspirant, let him reconsider himself, try whether, after all, the common sense of the many will not prove a juster and a firmer standing-ground than the sentimentality and bad taste of the few, and read alexander pope. in pope's writings, whatsoever he may not find, he will find the very excellences after which our young poets strive in vain, produced by their seeming opposites, which are now despised and discarded; naturalness produced by studious art; daring sublimity by strict self-restraint; depth by clear simplicity; pathos by easy grace; and a morality infinitely more merciful, as well as more righteous, than the one now in vogue among poetasters, by honest faith in god.... yes, pope knew, as well as wordsworth and our "naturalisti," that no physical fact was so mean or coarse as to be below the dignity of poetry--when in its right place. he could draw a pathos and sublimity out of the dirty inn-chamber, such as wordsworth never elicited from tubs and daffodils--because he could use them according to the rules of art, which are the rules of sound reason and of true taste.... the real cause of the modern vagueness is rather to be found in shallow and unsound culture, and in that inability, or carelessness about seeing any object clearly, which besets our poets just now; as the cause of antique clearness lies in the nobler and healthier manhood, in the severer and more methodic habits of thought, the sounder philosophic and critical training which enabled spenser and milton to draw up a state paper, or to discourse deep metaphysics, with the same manful possession of their subject which gives grace and completeness to the _penseroso_ or the _epithalmion_. and if our poets have their doubts, they should remember, that those to whom doubt and enquiry are real and stern, are not inclined to sing about them till they can sing poems of triumph over them. there has no temptation taken our modern poets save that which is common to man--the temptation of wishing to make the laws of the universe and of art fit them, as they do not feel inclined to make themselves fit the laws, or care to find them out.... the "poetry of doubt," however pretty, would stand us in little stead if we were threatened with a second armada. it will conduce little to the valour, "virtues," manhood of any englishman to be informed by any poet, even in the most melodious verse, illustrated by the most startling and pan-cosmic metaphors, "see what a highly organised and peculiar stomach-ache i have had! does it not prove indisputably that i am not as other men are?" what gospel there can be in such a message to any honest man who has either to till the earth, plan a railroad, colonise australia, or fight the despots, is hard to discover. hard indeed to discover how this most practical, and therefore most epical of ages, is to be "set to music," when all those who talk about so doing persist obstinately in poring, with introverted eyes, over the state of their own digestion, or creed. what man wants, what art wants, perhaps what the maker of the both wants, is a poet who shall begin by confessing that he is as other men are, and sing about things which concern all men, in language which all men can understand. this is the only road to that gift of prophecy which most young poets are nowadays in such a hurry to arrogate to themselves.... there is just now as wide a divorce between poetry and the commonsense of all time, as there is between poetry and modern knowledge. our poets are not merely vague and confused, they are altogether fragmentary-- _disjecta membra poetarum_; they need some uniting idea. and what idea? our answer will probably be greeted with a laugh. nevertheless we answer simply. what our poets want is faith. there is little or no faith nowadays. and without faith there can be no real art, for art is the outward expression of firm, coherent belief.... in the meanwhile, poets write about poets, and poetry, and guiding the age, and curbing the world, and waking it, and thrilling it, and making it start, and weep, and tremble, and self-conceit only knows what else; and yet the age is not guided, or the world curbed, or thrilled, or waked, or anything else, by them. why should it be? curb and thrill the world? the world is just now a most practical world; and these men are utterly unpractical. the age is given up to physical science: these men disregard and outrage it in every page by their false analogies.... let the poets of the new school consider carefully wolfe's "sir john moore," campbell's "hohenlinden," "mariners of england," and "rule britannia," hood's "song of the shirt" and "bridge of sighs," and then ask themselves, as men who would be poets, were it not better to have written any one of these glorious lyrics than all which john keats has left behind him; and let them be sure that, howsoever they may answer the question to themselves, the sound heart of the english people has already made its choice, and that when that beautiful "hero and leander," in which hood has outrivalled the conceit-mongers at their own weapons, by virtue of that very terseness, clearness, and manliness which they neglect, has been gathered to the limbo of the crashawes and marines, his "song of the shirt" and his "bridge of sighs," will be esteemed by great new english nations far beyond the seas, for what they are--two of the most noble lyric poems ever written by an english pen. if our poetasters talk with wordsworth of the dignity and pathos of the commonest human things, they will find them there in perfection; if they talk about the cravings of the new time, they will find them there. if they want the truly sublime and awful, they will find them there also. but they will find none of their own favourite concetti; hardly even a metaphor; no taint of this new poetic diction into which we have now fallen, after all our abuse of the far more manly and sincere "poetic diction" of the eighteenth century; they will find no loitering by the way to argue and moralise, and grumble at providence, and show off the author's own genius and sensibility; they will find, in short, two real works of art, earnest, melodious, self-forgetful, knowing clearly what they want to say, saying it in the shortest, the simplest, the calmest, the most finished words. saying it--rather taught to say it. for if that "divine inspiration of poets," of which the poetasters make such rash and irreverent boastings, have, indeed, as all ages have held, any reality corresponding to it, it will rather be bestowed on such works as these, appeals from an unrighteous man to a righteous god, than on men whose only claim to celestial help seems to be that mere passionate sensibility, which our modern draco once described when speaking of poor john keats, as "an infinite hunger after all manner of pleasant things, crying to the universe, 'oh, that thou wert one great lump of sugar, that i might suck thee!'" anonymous novels for christmas, [from _fraser's magazine_, january, ] if[ ] against the inroads of the evangelical party the orthodox church has need of a defender, it hardly would wish, we should think, to be assisted _tali auxilio_. mrs. trollope has not exactly the genius which is best calculated to support the church of england, or to argue upon so grave a subject as that on which she has thought proper to write. [ ] _the vicar of wrexhill_. by mrs. trollope. london, . with a keen eye, a very sharp tongue, a firm belief, doubtless, in the high church doctrines, and a decent reputation from the authorship of half-a-dozen novels, or other light works, mrs. trollope determined on no less an undertaking than to be the champion of oppressed orthodoxy. these are feeble arms for one who would engage in such a contest, but our fair mrs. trollope trusted entirely in her own skill, and the weapon with which she proposed to combat a strong party is no more nor less than this novel of _the vicar of wrexhill_. it is a great pity that the heroine ever set forth on such a foolish errand; she has only harmed herself and her cause (as a bad advocate always will), and had much better have remained home, pudding-making or stocking-mending, than have meddled with matters which she understands so ill. in the first place (we speak it with due respect for the sex), she is guilty of a fault which is somewhat too common among them; and having very little, except prejudice, on which to found an opinion, she makes up for want of argument by a wonderful fluency of abuse. a woman's religion is chiefly that of the heart, and not of the head. she goes through, for the most part, no tedious process of reasoning, no dreadful stages of doubt, no changes of faith: she loves god as she loves her husband--by a kind of instinctive devotion. faith is a passion with her, not a calculation; so that, in the faculty of believing, though they far exceed the other sex, in the power of convincing they fall far short of them. oh! we repeat once more, that ladies would make puddings and mend stockings! that they would not meddle with religion (what is styled religion, we mean), except to pray to god, to live quietly among their families, and move lovingly among their neighbours! mrs. trollope, for instance, who sees so keenly the follies of the other party--how much vanity there is in bible meetings--how much sin even at missionary societies--how much cant and hypocrisy there is among those who desecrate the awful name of god, by mixing it with their mean interests and petty projects--mrs. trollope cannot see that there is any hypocrisy or bigotry on her part. she, who designates the rival party as false, and wicked, and vain--tracing all their actions to the basest motives, declaring their worship of god to be only one general hypocrisy, their conduct at home one fearful scene of crime, is blind to the faults on her own side. always bitter against the pharisees, she does as the pharisees do. it is vanity, very likely, which leads these people to use god's name so often, and to devote all to perdition who do not coincide in their peculiar notions. is mrs. trollope less vain than they when she declares, and merely _declares_, her own to be the real creed, and stigmatises its rival so fiercely? is mrs. trollope serving god, in making abusive licencious pictures of those who serve him in a different way? once, as mrs. trollope has read--it was a long time ago!--there was a woman taken in sin; the people brought her before a great teacher of truth, who lived in those days. shall we not kill her? said they; the laws command that all adulteresses be killed. we can fancy a mrs. trollope in the crowd, shouting, "oh, the wretch! oh, the abominable harlot! kill her, by all means--stoning is really too good for her!" but what did the divine teacher say? he was quite as anxious to prevent the crime as any mrs. trollope of them all; but he did not even make an allusion to it--he did not describe the manner in which the poor creature was caught--he made no speech to detail the indecencies which she committed, or to raise the fury of the mob against her--he said "let the man who is without sin himself throw the first stone!" whereupon the pharisees and mrs. trollope slunk away, for they knew they were no better than she. there was as great a sin in his eyes as that of the poor erring woman--it was the sin of pride. mrs. trollope may make a licentious book, of which the heroes and heroines are all of the evangelical party; and it may be true, that there are scoundrels belonging to that party as to every other; but her shameful error has been in fixing upon the evangelical _class_ as an object of satire, making them necessarily licentious and hypocritical, and charging everyone of them with the vices which belong to only a very few of all sects.... there are some books, we are told, in the libraries of roman catholic theologians, which, though written for the most devout purposes, are so ingeniously obscene as to render them quite dangerous for common eyes. the groom, in the old story, had never learned the art of greasing horses' teeth, to prevent their eating oats, until the confessor, in interrogating him as to his sins, asked him the question. the next time the groom came to confess, he _had_ greased the horses' teeth. it was the holy father who taught him, by the very fact of warning him against it. by which we mean, that there are some scenes of which it is better not to speak at all. our fair moralist, however, has no such squeamishness. she will show up these odious evangelicals; she will expose them and chastise them, wherever they be. so have we seen, in that beautiful market in thames street, whither the mariners of england bring the glittering produce of their nets--so have we seen, we say, in billingsgate, a nymph attacking another of her sisterhood. how keenly she detects and proclaims the number and enormity of her rival's faults! how eloquently she enlarges upon the gin she has drunk, the children she has confided to the parish, the watchmen whose noses she has broken, and the bridewells which she has visited in succession! no one can but admire the lady's eloquence and talent in conducting the case for the prosecution; no one will, perhaps, doubt the guilt of the hapless object on whom her wrath is vented. but, with all her rage for morality, had not that fair accused have better left the matter alone? that torrent of slang and oath, o nymph! falls ill from thy lips, which should never open but for a soft word or a smile; that accurate description of vice, sweet orator [-tress or-trix]! only shows that thou thyself art but too well acquainted with scenes which thy pure eyes should never have beheld. and when we come to the matter in dispute--a simple question of mackerel--o, mrs. trollope! why, why should you abuse other people's fish, and not content yourself with selling your _own_.... there can be little doubt as to the cleverness of this novel, but, coming from a women's pen, it is most odiously and disgustingly indecent. as a party attack, it is an entire failure; and as a representation of a very large portion of english christians, a shameful and wicked slander. bulwer's "ernest maltravers" to talk of _ernest maltravers_ now, is to rake up a dead man's ashes. the poor creature came into the world almost still-born, and, though he has hardly been before the public for a month, is forgotten as much as _rienzi_ or the _disowned_. what a pity that mr. bulwer will not learn wisdom with age, and confine his attention to subjects at once more grateful to the public and more suitable to his own powers! he excels in the _genre_ of paul de kock, and is always striving after the style of plato; he has a keen perception of the ridiculous and, like liston or cruikshank, and other comic artists, persists that his real vein is the sublime. what a number of sparkling magazine-papers, what an outpouring of fun and satire, might we have had from neddy bulwer, had he not thought fit to turn moralist, metaphysician, politician, poet, and be edward lytton, heaven--knows--what bulwer, esquire and m.p., a dandy, a philosopher, a spouter at radical meetings. we speak feelingly, for we knew the youth at trinity hall, and have a tenderness even for his tomfooleries. he has thrown away the better part of himself--his great inclination for the low, namely; if he would but leave off scents for his handkerchief, and oil for his hair; if he would but confine himself to three clean shirts a week, a couple of coats in a year, a beefsteak and onions for dinner, his beaker a pewter-pot, his carpet a sanded floor, how much might be made of him even yet! an occasional pot of porter too much--a black eye, in a tap-room fight with a carman--a night in the watch-house--or a surfeit produced by welsh-rabbit and gin and beer, might, perhaps, redden his fair face and swell his slim waist; but the _mental_ improvement which he would acquire under such treatment-- the intellectual pluck and vigour which he would attain by the stout diet--the manly sports and conversation in which he would join at the coal-hole, or the widow's, are far better for him than the feeble fribble of the reform club (not inaptly called "the hole in the wall"); the windy french dinners, which, as we take it, are his usual fare; and, above all, the unwholesome radical garbage which form the political food of himself and his clique in the house of commons. for here is the evil of his present artificial courses--the humbug required to keep up his position as dandy, politician, and philosopher (in neither of which latter characters the man is in earnest), must get into _his heart_ at last; and then his trade is ruined. a little more politics and plato, and the natural disappears altogether from mr. bulwer's writings: the individual man becomes as undistinguishable amidst the farrago of philosophy in which he has chosen to envelope himself, as a cutlet in the sauces of a french cook. the idiosyncracy of the mutton perishes under the effects of the adjuncts: even so the moralising, which may be compared to the mushrooms, of mr. bulwer's style; the poetising, which may be likened unto the flatulent turnips and carrots; and the politics, which are as the gravy, reeking of filthy garlic, greasy with rancid oil;--even so, we say, pursuing this savoury simile to its fullest extent, the natural qualities of young pelham--the wholesome and juicy _mutton of the mind_, is shrunk and stewed away. or, to continue in this charming vein of parable, the author of _pelham_ may be likened to beau tibbs. tibbs, as we all remember, would pass for a pink of fashion, and had a wife whom he presented to the world as a paragon of virtue and _ton_, and who was but the cast-off mistress of a lord. mr. bulwer's philosophy is his mrs. tibbs; he thrusts her forward into the company of her betters, as if her rank and reputation never admitted of a question. to all his literary undertakings this goddess of his accompanies him; what a cracked, battered truly she is! with a person and morals that would suit vinegar yard, and a chastity that would be hooted in drury lane. the morality which mr. bulwer has acquired in his researches, political and metaphysical, is of the most extraordinary nature. for one who is always preaching of truth of beauty, the dulness of his moral sense is perfectly ludicrous. he cannot see that the hero into whose mouth he places his favourite metaphysical gabble--his dissertations about the stars, the passions, the greek plays, and what not--his eternal whine about what he calls the good and the beautiful--is a fellow as mean and paltry as can be well imagined; a man of rant, and not of action; foolishly infirm of purpose, and strong only in desire; whose beautiful is a tawdry strumpet, and whose good would be crime in the eyes of an honest man. so much for the portrait of ernest maltravers: as for the artist, we cannot conceive a man to have failed more completely. he wishes to paint an amiable man, and he succeeds in drawing a scoundrel: he says he will give us the likeness of a genius, and it is only the picture of a _humbug_. ernest maltravers is an eccentric and enthusiastic young man, to whom we are introduced upon his return from a german university. fond of wild adventure and solitary rambles, we find him upon a heath, wandering alone, tired, and benighted. the two first chapters of the book are in mr. bulwer's very best manner; the description of the lone hut to which the lad comes--the ruffian who inhabits it--the designs which he has upon the life of his new guest, and the manner in which his daughter defeats them, are told with admirable liveliness and effect. the young man escapes, and with him the girl who had prevented his murder. both are young, interesting, and tender hearted; she loves but him, and would die of starvation without him. ernest maltravers cannot resist the claim of so unprotected a creature; he hires a cottage for her, and a writing-master. he is a young man of genius, and generous dispositions; he is a christian, and instructs the ignorant alice in the awful truth of his religion; moreover he is deep in poetry, philosophy, and the german metaphysics. how should such a christian instruct an innocent and beautiful child, his pupil? what should such a philosopher do? why seduce her, to be sure! after a deal of namby-pamby platonism, the girl, as mr. bulwer says, "goes to the deuce." the expression is as charming as the morality, and appears amidst a quantity of the very finest writing about the good and the beautiful, youth, love, passion, nature and so forth. it is curious how rapidly one turns from good to bad in this book. how clever the descriptions are! how neatly some of the minor events and personalities are hit off! and yet, how astonishingly vile and contemptible the chief part of it is!--that part, we mean, which contains the adventures of the hero, and, of course, the choice reflections of the author. the declamations about virtue are endless, as soon as maltravers appears upon the scene; and yet we find him committing the agreeable little _faux pas_ of which we have just spoken. in one place, we have him making violent love to another man's wife; in another place, raging for blood like a tiger and swearing for revenge.... it is curious and painful to read mr. bulwer's [philosophy], and to mark the easy vanity with which virtue is assumed here, self-knowledge arrogated, and a number of windy sentences, which really possess no meaning, are gravely delivered with all the emphasis of truth and the air of profound conviction. "i have learned," cries our precious philosopher, "to lean on my own soul, and not look eleswhere [transcriber's note: sic] for the reeds that a wind can break!" and what has he learned by leaning on his own soul? is it to be happier than others? or to be better? not he!--he is as wretched and wicked a dog as any unhung. he "leans on his own soul," and makes love to the countess and seduces alice darvell. a ploughboy is a better philosopher and moralist than this mouthing maltravers, with his boasted love of mankind (which reduces itself to a very coarse love of _woman_kind), and his scorn of "the false gods and miserable creeds" of the world, and his soul "lifting its crest to heaven!" a catholic whipping himself before a stone-image, a brahmin dangling on a hook, or standing on one leg for a year, has a higher notion of god than this ranting fool, who is always prating about his own perfections and his divine nature; the one is humble, at least, though blind; the other is proud of his very imperfections and glories in his folly. what does this creature know of virtue, who finds it _by leaning on his own soul_, forsooth? what does he know of god, who, in looking for him, can see but himself, steeped in sin, bloated and swollen with monstrous pride, and strutting before the world and the creator as a maker of systems, a layer down of morals, and a preacher of beauty and truth?... [some of the] characters are excellently drawn; how much better than "_their lips spake of sentiment, and their eyes applied it_!" how soon these philosophers begin ogling! how charmingly their unceasing gabble about beauty and virtue is exemplified in their actions! mr. bulwer's philosophy is like a french palace--it is tawdry, shady, splendid; but, _gare aux nez sensibles_! one is always reminded of the sewer. "their lips spoke sentiment, and their eyes applied it." o you naughty, naughty mr. bulwer! william john fox the dedicatory inscription in the volume of _the monthly repository_, in which the following review appears, will indicate--in a few words--the motives inspiring the editor, w. j. fox, in his journalistic career:-- "to the working people of great britain and ireland; who, whether they produce the means of physical support and enjoyment, or aid the progress of moral, political, and social reform and improvement, are fellow-labourers for the well-being of the entire community." * * * * * _pauline_ was published, when browning was , at his aunt's expense. it secured only _one_ favourable notice, here printed; while the author and his sister deliberately destroyed the unsold copies. w. j. fox on browning [from _the monthly repository_, ] _pauline; a fragment of a confession_. london, saunders & otley. the most deeply interesting adventures, the wildest vicissitudes, the most daring explorations, the mightiest magic, the fiercest conflicts, the brightest triumphs, and the most affecting catastrophes, are those of the spiritual world.... the knowledge of mind is the first of sciences; the records of its formation and workings are the most important of histories; and it is eminently a subject for poetical exhibition. the annals of a poet's mind are poetry. nor has there ever been a genuine bard, who was not himself more poetical than any of his productions. they are emanations of his essence. he himself is, or has been, all that he truly and touchingly, _i.e._, poetically, describes. wordsworth, indeed, never carried a pedlar's pack, nor did byron ever command a pirate ship, or coleridge shoot an albatross; but there were times and moods in which their thoughts intently realised, and identified themselves with the reflective wanderer, the impetuous corsair, and the ancient mariner. they felt _their_ feelings, thought _their_ thoughts, burned with _their_ passions, dreamed _their_ dreams, and lived their lives, or died their deaths. in relation to his creations, the poet is the omnific spirit in whom they have their being. all their vitality must exist in his life. he only, in them, displays to us fragments of himself. the poem, in which a great poet should reveal the whole of himself to mankind would be a study, a delight, and a power, for which there is yet no parallel; and around which the noblest creations of the noblest writers would range themselves as subsidiary luminaries. these thoughts have been suggested by the work before us, which, though evidently a hasty and imperfect sketch, has truth and life in it, which gave us the thrill, and laid hold of us with the power, the sensation of which has never yet failed us as a test of genius. whoever the anonymous author may be, he is a poet. a pretender to science cannot always be safely judged of by a brief publication, for the knowledge of some facts does not imply the knowledge of other facts; but the claimant of poetic honours may generally be appreciated by a few pages, often by a few lines, for if they be poetry, he is a poet. we cannot judge of the house by the brick, but we can judge of the statue of hercules by its foot. we felt certain of tennyson, before we saw the book, by a few verses which had straggled into a newspaper; we are not less certain of the author of pauline. pauline is the recipient of the confessions: the hero is as anonymous as the author, and this is no matter, for _poet_ is the title both of the one and the other. the confessions have nothing in them which needs names: the external world is only reflected in them in its faintest shades; its influences are only described after they have penetrated into the intellect. we have never read anything more purely confessional. the whole composition is of the spirit, spiritual. the scenery is in the chambers of thought: the agencies are powers and passions; the events are transitions from one state of spiritual existence to another. and yet the composition is not dreamy; there is on it a deep stamp of reality. still less is it characterised by coldness. it has visions that we love to look upon, and tones that touch the inmost heart till it responds. the poet's confessions are introduced with an analysis of his spiritual constitution, in which he is described as having an intense consciousness of individuality, combined with a sense of power, a self-supremacy, and a "principle of restlessness which would be all, have, see, know, taste, feel all"; of this essential self, imagination is described as the characteristic quality; an imagination, steady and unfailing in its power. a "yearning after god," or supreme and universal good, unconsciously cherished through the earlier stages of the history, keeps this mind from utterly dissipating itself; and, which seems to us the only point in which the coherence fails, there is added an unaptness for love, a mere perception of the beautiful, the perception being felt more precious than its object.... and now when he has run the whole toilsome yet giddy round and arrived at the goal, there arises, even though that goal be religion, or because it is religion, a yearning after human sympathies and affections, which would not have assorted with any state or moment of the previous experience; he could not have loved before; at one time it would have been only a fancy, a cold, and yet perhaps extravagant imagining; at another, a low and selfish passion. some souls are purified _by_ love, others are purified _for_ love. othello needed not desdemona to listen to his tale of disastrous chances; they were only external perils, rapid by elevated station; but the mind that has gone through more than his vicissitudes, been in deeper dangers, and deadlier struggles, even when it rests at last in a far higher repose and dignity, yearns for some one who will "seriously incline" to listen to the "strange eventful history," one who will sympathise and soothe, who will receive the confession, and give the absolution of heaven its best earthly ratification, that of a pure and loving heart. the poem is addressed to pauline; with her it begins, and ends; and her presence is felt throughout, as that of a second conscience, wounded by evil, but never stern, and incorporate in a form of beauty, which blends and softens the strong contrasts of different portions of the poem, so that all might be murmured by the breath of affection. the author cannot expect such a poem as this to be popular, to make a "hit," to produce a "sensation." the public are but slow in recognising the claims of tennyson whom in some respects he resembles; and the common eye scarcely yet discerns among the laurel-crowned, the form of shelley, who seems (how justly, we stop not now to discuss), to have been the god of his early idolatory. whatever inspiration may have been upon him from that deity, the mysticism of the original oracles has been happily avoided. and whatever resemblance he may bear to tennyson (a fellow worshipper probably at the same shrine) he owes nothing of the perhaps inferior melody of his verse to an employment of archaisms which it is difficult to defend from the charge of affectation. but he has not given himself the chance for popularity which tennyson did, and which it is evident that he easily might have done. his poem stands alone, with none of those light but taking accompaniments, songs that sing themselves, sketches that everybody knows, light little lyrics, floating about like humming birds, around the trunk and foliage of the poem itself; and which would attract so many eyes, and delight so many ears, that will be slow to perceive the higher beauty of that composition, and to whom a sycamore is no sycamore, unless it be "musical with bees." thomas de quincey ( - ) de quincey has been said to have "taken his place in our literature as the author of about magazine articles," and, though chiefly remembered by his _confessions of an opium eater_ and by his wonderful experiments in "impassioned prose," there can be no question that his critical work occupied much of his attention, and was nearly always original. in many respects his point of view was perverse, and towards his contemporaries occasionally spiteful; while his tendency to dwell upon disputed points was apt to obscure the general impression. * * * * * it is interesting to compare his unmeasured condemnation of pope with kingsley's eulogy: since both were, more or less, directly inspired by the contrast of eighteenth century correctness to the poetical gospel of the lake poets. from the two articles we can obtain a fair and emphatic statement of "both sides of the case." de quincey on pope [from _tait's edinburgh magazine_, may, ] whom shall we pronounce a fit writer to be laid before an auditory of working-men, as a model of what is just in composition--fit either for conciliating their regard to literature at first or afterwards for sustaining it? the qualifications for such a writer are apparently these two; first, that he should deal chiefly with the elder and elementary affections of man, and under those relations which concern man's grandest capacities; secondly, that he should treat his subject with solemnity, and not with sneer--with earnestness, as one under a prophet's burden of impassioned truth, and not with the levity of a girl hunting a chance-started caprice. i admire pope in the very highest degree; but i admire him as a pyrotechnic artist for producing brilliant and evanescent effects out of elements that have hardly a moment's life within them. there is a flash and a startling explosion, then there is a dazzling coruscation, all purple and gold; the eye aches under the suddenness of a display that, springing like a burning arrow out of darkness, rushes back into the darkness with arrowy speed, and in a moment is all over. like festal shows, or the hurrying music of such shows-- it _was_, and it is not. untruly, therefore, was it ever fancied of pope, that he belonged by his classification to the family of the drydens. dryden had within him a principle of continuity which was not satisfied without lingering upon his own thoughts, brooding over them, and oftentimes pursuing them through their unlinkings with the _sequaciousness_ (pardon a coleridgian word) that belongs to some process of creative nature, such as the unfolding of a flower. but pope was all jets and tongues of flame; all showers of scintillation and sparkle. dryden followed, genially, an impulse of his healthy nature. pope obeyed, spasmodically, an overmastering febrile paroxysm. even in these constitutional differences between the two are written and are legible the corresponding necessities of "utter falsehood in pope, and of loyalty to truth in dryden." strange it is to recall this one striking fact, that if once in his life dryden might reasonably have been suspected of falsehood, it was in the capital matter of religion. he _ratted_ from his protestant faith; and according to the literal origin of that figure he _ratted_; for he abjured it as rats abjure a ship in which their instinct of divination has deciphered a destiny of ruin, and at the very moment when popery wore the promise of a triumph that might, at any rate, have lasted his time. dryden was a papist by apostacy; and perhaps, not to speak uncharitably, upon some bias from self-interest. pope, on the other hand, was a papist by birth, and by a tie of honour; and he resisted all temptations to desert his afflicted faith, which temptations lay in bribes of great magnitude prospectively, and in persecutions for the present that were painfully humiliating. how base a time-server does dryden appear on the one side! on the other, how much of a martyr should we be disposed to pronounce pope! and yet, for all that, such is the overruling force of a nature originally sincere, the apostate dryden wore upon his brow the grace of sincerity, whilst the pseudo-martyr pope, in the midst of actual fidelity to his church, was at his heart a traitor--in the very oath of his allegiance to his spiritual mistress had a lie upon his lips, scoffed at her while kneeling in homage to her pretensions, and secretly forswore her doctrines while suffering insults in her service. the differences as to truth and falsehood lay exactly where by all the external symptoms they ought _not_ to have lain. but the reason for this anomaly was that to dryden sincerity had been a perpetual necessity of his intellectual nature, whilst pope, distracted by his own activities of mind, living in an irreligious generation, and beset by infidel friends, had early lost his anchorage of traditional belief; and yet, upon honourable scruple of fidelity to the suffering church of his fathers, he sought often to dissemble the fact of his own scepticism, which often he thirsted ostentatiously to parade. through a motive of truthfulness he became false. and in this particular instance he would, at any rate, have become false, whatever had been the native constitution of his mind. it was a mere impossibility to reconcile any real allegiance to his church with his known irreverence to religion. but upon far more subjects than this pope was habitually false to the quality of his thoughts, always insincere, never by any accident in earnest, and consequently many times caught in ruinous self-contradiction. is that the sort of writer to furnish an advantageous study for the precious leisure, precious as rubies, of the toil-worn artisan. the root and pledge of this falseness in pope lay in a disease of his mind, which he (like the roman poet horace) mistook for a feature of praeter-natural strength; and this disease was the incapacity of self-determination towards any paramount or abiding _principles_. horace, in a well-known passage, had congratulated himself upon this disease as upon a trophy of philosophical emancipation: nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri, quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes: which words pope translates, and applies to himself in his english adaptation of this epistle-- but ask not to what doctors i apply-- sworn to no master, of no sect am i. as drives the storm, at any door i knock; and house with montaigne now, and now with locke. that is, neither one poet nor the other having, as regarded philosophy, any internal principle of gravitation or determining impulse to draw him in one direction rather than another, was left to the random control of momentary taste, accident, or caprice; and this indetermination of pure, unballasted levity both pope and horace mistook for a special privilege of philosophic strength. others, it seems, were chained and coerced by certain fixed aspects of truth, and their efforts were over-ruled accordingly in one uniform line of direction. but _they_, the two brilliant poets, fluttered on butterfly wings to the right and the left, obeying no guidance but that of some instant and fugitive sensibility to some momentary phasis of beauty. in this dream of drunken eclecticism, and in the original possibility of such an eclecticism, lay the ground of that enormous falsehood which pope practised from youth to age. an eclectic philosopher already, in the very title which he assumes, proclaims his self-complacency in the large liberty of error purchased by the renunciation of all controlling principles. having served the towing-line which connected him with any external force of guiding and compulsory truth, he is free to go astray in any one of ten thousand false radiations from the true centre of rest. by his own choice he is wandering in a forest all but pathless, --ubi passim pallantes error recto de tramite pellit; and a forest not of sixty days' journey, like that old hercynian forest of caesar's time, but a forest which sixty generations have not availed to traverse or familiarise in any one direction.... _here_ would be the most advantageous and _remunerative_ station to take for one who should undertake a formal exposure of pope's hollow-heartedness; that is, it would most commensurately reward the pains and difficulties of such an investigation. but it would be too long a task for this situation, and it would be too polemic. it would move through a jungle of controversies.... instead of this i prefer, as more amusing, as less elaborate, and as briefer, to expose a few of pope's _personal_ falsehoods, and falsehoods as to the notorieties of _fact_. truth speculative often-times, drives its roots into depth, so dark that the falsifications to which it is liable, though detected, cannot always be exposed to the light of day--the result is known, but not therefore seen. truth personal, on the other hand, may easily be made to confront its falsifier, not with reputation only, but with the visible _shame_ of refutation. such shame would settle upon _every_ page of pope's satires and moral epistles, oftentimes upon every couplet, if any censor, armed with an adequate knowledge of the facts, were to prosecute the inquest. and the general impression from such an inquest would be, that pope never delineated a character, nor uttered a sentiment, nor breathed an aspiration, which he would not willingly have recast, have retracted, have abjured or trampled underfoot with the curses assigned to heresy, if by such an act he could have added a hue of brilliancy to his colouring or a new depth to his shadows. there is nothing he would not have sacrificed, not the most solemn of his opinions, nor the most pathetic memorial from his personal experience, in return for a sufficient consideration, which consideration meant always with _him_ poetic effect. it is not, as too commonly is believed, that he was reckless of other people's feelings; so far from _that_, he had a morbid _facility_ in his kindness; and in cases where he had no reason to suspect any lurking hostility, he showed even a paralytic benignity. but, simply and constitutionally, he was incapable of a sincere thought or a sincere emotion. nothing that ever he uttered, were it even a prayer to god, but he had a fancy for reading it backwards. and he was evermore false, not as loving or preferring falsehood, but as one who could not in his heart perceive much real difference between what people affected to call falsehood, and what they affected to call truth. the end none generously made available by the internet archive.) in the track of the book-worm by irving browne: thoughts, fancies and gentle gibes on collecting and collectors by one of them. done into a book at the roycroft printing shop at east aurora, new york, u. s. a. mdcccxcvii copyrighted by the roycroft printing shop of this edition but five hundred and ninety copies were printed and types then distributed. each copy is signed and numbered and this book is number irving browne chapters. . objects of collection . who have collected . diverse tastes . the size of books . binding . paper . women as collectors . the illustrator . book-plates . the book-auctioneer . the book-seller . the public librarian . does book collecting pay . the book-worm's faults . poverty as a means of enjoyment . the arrangement of books . enemies of books . library companions . the friendship of books ballads. . how a bibliomaniac binds his books . the bibliomaniac's assignment of binders . the failing books . suiting paper to subject . the sentimental chambermaid . a woman's idea of a library . the shy portraits . the snatchers . the stolid auctioneer . the prophetic book . the book-seller . the public librarian . the book-worm does not care for nature . how i go a-fishing . the book-thief . the smoke traveler . the fire in the library . cleaning the library . ode to omar . my dog . my clocks . a portrait . my schoolmate . my shingle . solitaire . my friends the books to book-worms all, of high or low degree, whate'er of madness be their stages, and just as well unknown as known to me, i dedicate these trifling pages, in hope that when they turn them o'er they will not find the track a bore. the track of the book-worm. i. objects of collection. philosophers have made various and ingenious but incomplete attempts to form a succinct definition of the animal, man. at first thought it might seem that a perfect definition would be, an animal who makes collections. but one must remember that the magpie does this. yet this definition is as good as any, and comes nearer exactness than most. what has not the animal man collected? clocks, watches, snuff-boxes, canes, fans, laces, precious stones, china, coins, paper money, spoons, prints, paintings, tulips, orchids, hens, horses, match-boxes, postal stamps, miniatures, violins, show-bills, play-bills, swords, buttons, shoes, china slippers, spools, birds, butterflies, beetles, saddles, skulls, wigs, lanterns, book-plates, knockers, crystal balls, shells, penny toys, death-masks, tea-pots, autographs, rugs, armour, pipes, arrow heads, locks of hair and key locks, and hats (jules verne's "tale of a hat"), these are some of the most prominent subjects in search of which the animal man runs up and down the earth, and spends time and money without scruple or stint. but all these curious objects of search fall into insignificance when compared with the ancient, noble and useful passion for collecting books. one of the wisest of the human race said, the only earthly immortality is in writing a book; and the desire to accumulate these evidences of earthly immortality needs no defense among cultivated men. ii. who have collected books. the mania for book-collecting is by no means a modern disease, but has existed ever since there were books to gather, and has infected many of the wisest and most potent names in history. euripides is ridiculed by aristophanes in "the frogs" for collecting books. of the roman emperor, gordian, who flourished (or rather did not flourish, because he was slain after a reign of thirty-six days) in the third century, gibbon says, "twenty-two acknowledged concubines and a library of sixty thousand volumes attested the variety of his inclinations." this combination of uxorious and literary tastes seems to have existed in another monarch of a later period--henry viii.--the seeming disproportion of whose expenditure of , pounds for jewels in three years, during which he spent but pounds for books and binding, is explained by the fact that he was indebted for the contents of his libraries to the plunder of monasteries. henry printed a few copies of his book against luther on vellum. cicero, who possessed a superb library, especially rich in greek, at his villa in tusculum, thus describes his favorite acquisitions: "books to quicken the intelligence of youth, delight age, decorate prosperity, shelter and solace us in adversity, bring enjoyment at home, befriend us out-of-doors, pass the night with us, travel with us, go into the country with us." petrarch, who collected books not simply for his own gratification, but aspired to become the founder of a permanent library at venice, gave his books to the church of st. mark; but the greater part of them perished through neglect, and only a small part remains. boccaccio, anticipating an early death, offered his library to petrarch, his dear friend, on his own terms, to insure its preservation, and the poet promised to care for the collection in case he survived boccaccio; but the latter, outliving petrarch, bequeathed his books to the augustinians of florence, and some of them are still shown to visitors in the laurentinian library. from boccaccio's own account of his collection, one must believe his books quite inappropriate for a monastic library, and the good monks probably instituted an auto da fe for most of them, like that which befell the knightly romances in "don quixote." perhaps the naughty story-teller intended the donation as a covert satire. the walls of the room which formerly contained montaigne's books, and is at this day exhibited to pilgrims, are covered with inscriptions burnt in with branding-irons on the beams and rafters by the eccentric and delightful essayist. the author of "ivanhoe" adorned his magnificent library with suits of superb armor, and luxuriated in demonology and witchcraft. the caustic swift was in the habit of annotating his books, and writing on the fly-leaves a summary opinion of the author's merits; whatever else he had, he owned no shakespeare, nor can any reference to him be found in the nineteen volumes of swift's works. military men seem always to have had a passion for books. to say nothing of the literary and rhetorical tastes of cæsar, "the foremost man of all time," frederick the great had libraries at sans souci, potsdam, and berlin, in which he arranged the volumes by classes without regard to size. thick volumes he rebound in sections for more convenient use, and his favorite french authors he sometimes caused to be reprinted in compact editions to his taste. the great conde inherited a valuable library from his father, and enlarged and loved it. marlborough had twenty-five books on vellum, all earlier than . the hard-fighting junot had a vellum library which sold in london for , pounds, while his great master was not too busy in conquering europe not only to solace himself in his permanent libraries, and in books which he carried with him in his expeditions, but to project and actually commence the printing of a camp library of duodecimo volumes, without margins, and in thin covers, to embrace some three thousand volumes, and which he had designed to complete in six years by employing one hundred and twenty compositors and twenty-five editors, at an outlay of about , pounds. st. helena destroyed this scheme. it is curious to note that napoleon despised voltaire as heartily as frederick admired him, but gave fielding and le sage places among his traveling companions; while the bibliomaniac appears in his direction to his librarian: "i will have fine editions and handsome bindings. i am rich enough for that." the main thing that shakes one's confidence in the correctness of his literary taste is that he was fond of "ossian." julius cæsar also formed a traveling library of forty-four little volumes, contained in an oak case measuring by by inches, covered with leather. the books are bound in white vellum, and consist of history, philosophy, theology, and poetry, in greek and latin. the collector was sir julius cæsar, of england, and this exquisite and unique collection is in the british museum. the books were all printed between and . southey brought together fourteen thousand volumes, the most valuable collection which had up to that time been acquired by any man whose means and estate lay, as he once said of himself, in his inkstand. time fails me to speak of erasmus, de thou, grotius, goethe, bodley; hans sloane, whose private library of fifty thousand volumes was the beginning of that of the british museum; the cardinal borromeo, who founded the ambrosian library at milan with his own forty thousand volumes, and the other great names entitled to the description of bibliomaniac. we must not forget sir richard whittington, of feline fame, who gave pounds to found the library of christ's hospital, london. the fair sex, good and bad, have been lovers of books or founders of libraries; witness the distinguished names of lady jane gray, catherine de medicis, and diane de poictiers. it only remains to speak of the great opium-eater, who was a sort of literary ghoul, famed for borrowing books and never returning them, and whose library was thus made up of the enforced contributions of friends--for who would have dared refuse the loan of a book to thomas de quincey? the name of the unhappy man would have descended to us with that of the incendiary of the temple of diana at ephesus. but the great thomas was recklessly careless and slovenly in his use of books; and burton, in the "book-hunter," tells us that "he once gave in copy written on the edges of a tall octavo 'somnium scipionis,' and as he did not obliterate the original matter, the printer was rather puzzled, and made a funny jumble between the letter-press latin and the manuscript english." i seriously fear that with him must be ranked the gentle elia, who said: "a book reads the better which is our own, and has been so long known to us that we know the topography of its blots and dog's ears, and can trace the dirt in it to having read it at tea with buttered muffins, or over a pipe, which i think is the maximum." and yet a great degree of slovenliness may be excused in charles because, according to leigh hunt, he once gave a kiss to an old folio chapman's "homer," and when asked how he knew his books one from the other, for hardly any were lettered, he answered: "how does a shepherd know his sheep?" the love of books displayed by the sensual henry and the pugnacious junot is not more remarkable than that of the epicurean and sumptuous lucullus, to whom pompey, when sick, having been directed by his physician to eat a thrush for dinner, and learning from his servants that in summer-time thrushes were not to be found anywhere but in lucullus' fattening coops, refused to be indebted for his meal, observing: "so if lucullus had not been an epicure, pompey had not lived." of him the veracious plutarch says: "his furnishing a library, however, deserved praise and record, for he collected very many and choice manuscripts; and the use they were put to was even more magnificent than the purchase, the library being always open, and the walks and reading rooms about it free to all greeks, whose delight it was to leave their other occupations and hasten thither as to the habitation of the muses." it is not recorded that socrates collected books--his wife probably objected--but we have his word for it that he loved them. he did not love the country, and the only thing that could tempt him thither was a book. acknowledging this to phædrus he says: "very true, my good friend; and i hope that you will excuse me when you hear the reason, which is, that i am a lover of knowledge, and the men who dwell in the city are my teachers, and not the trees or the country. though i do indeed believe that you have found a spell with which to draw me out of the city into the country, like a hungry cow before whom a bough or a bunch of fruit is waved. for only hold up before me in like manner a book, and you may lead me all round attica, and over the wide world. and now having arrived, i intend to lie down, and do you choose any posture in which you can read best." iii. diverse tastes. it is fortunate for the harmony of book-collectors that they do not all desire the same thing, just as it was fortunate for their young state that all the romans did not want the same sabine woman. otherwise the helenic battle of the books would be fiercer than it is. thus there are bibliomaniacs who reprint rare books from their own libraries in limited numbers; authors, like walpole, who print their own works, and whose fame as printers is better deserved than their reputation as writers; like thackeray, who design the illustrations for their own romances, or, like astor, who procure a single copy of their novel to be illustrated at lavish expense by artists; amateurs who bind their own books; lunatics who yearn for books wholly engraved, or printed only on one side of the leaf, or greek books wholly in capitals, or others in the italic letter; or black-letter fanciers; or tall copy men; or rubricists, missal men, or first edition men, or incunabulists. one seeks only ancient books; another limited editions; another those privately printed; a fourth wants nothing but presentation copies; yet another only those that have belonged to famous men, and still another illustrated or illuminated books. there is a perfectly rabid and incurable class, of whom the most harmless are devoted to pamphlets; another, rather more dangerous, to incorrect or suppressed editions; and a third, stark mad, to play-bills and portraits. one patronizes the drama, one poetry, one the fine arts, another books about books and their collectors; and a very recherche class devote themselves to works on playing-cards, angling, magic, or chess, emblems, dances of death, or the jest books and facetiæ. finally, there are those unhappy beings who run up and down for duplicates, searching for every edition of their favorite authors. in very recent days there has arisen a large class who demand the first editions of popular novelists like dickens, thackeray and hawthorne, and will pay large prices for these issues which have no value except that of rarity. i can quite understand the enthusiasm of the collector over the beautiful first editions of the greek and latin classics, or for the first "paradise lost," or even for the ugly first folio "shakespeare," and why he should prefer the comparatively rude first walton's angler to pickering's edition, the handsomest of this century, with its monumental title page. but why a first edition of a popular novel should be more desirable than a late one, which is usually the more elegant, i confess i cannot understand. it is one of those things which, like the mystery of religion, we must take on trust. so when a bookseller tells me that a copy of the first issue of "the scarlet letter" has sold for seventy-five dollars, and that a copy of the second, with the same date, but put out six months later, is worth only seventy-five cents, i open my eyes but not my purse, especially when i consider that the second is greatly superior to the first on account of its famous preface of apology, and when i read of some one's bidding $ for a copy of poe's worthless "tamerlane," i am flattered by the reflection that there is one man in the world whom i believe to be eighteen hundred and seventy-five times as great a fool as i am! iv. the size of books. were i a despotic ruler of the universe i would make it a serious offense to publish a book larger than royal octavo. books should be made to read, or at all events to look at, and in this view comfort and ease should be consulted. any one who has ever undertaken to read a huge quarto or folio will sympathize with this view. the older and lazier the book-worm grows the more he longs for little books, which he can hold in one hand without getting a cramp, or at least support with arms in an elbow chair without fatigue. darwin remorselessly split big books in two. mr. slater says in "book collecting:" "when the library at sion college took fire the attendants, at the risk of their lives, rescued a pile of books from the flames, and it is said that the librarian wept when he found that the porters had taken it for granted that the value of a book was in exact proportion to its size." few of us, i suspect, ever read our family bible, and all of us probably groan when we lift out the unabridged dictionary. the "century dictionary" is a luxury because it is published in small and convenient parts. i cannot conceive any good in a big book except that the ladies may use it to press flowers or mosses in, or the nurses may put it in a chair to sit the baby on at table. i have heard of a gentleman who inherited a mass of folio volumes and arranged them as shelves for his smaller treasures, and of another who arranged his -mos on a stand made up of the seventeen volumes of pinkerton's "voyages" and denon's "egypt" for shelves. what reader would not prefer a dainty little elzevir to the huge folio, cæsar's "commentaries," even with the big bull in it, and the wicker idol full of burning human victims? what can be more pleasing than the modern quantin edition of the classics? or, to speak of a popular book, take the "pastels in prose," the most exquisite book for the price ever known in the history of printing. the small book ought however to be easily legible. the health and comfort of the human eye should be consulted in the size of the type. nothing can be worse in this regard than the pickering diamond classics, if meant to be read; and it seems that there are too many of them to be intended as mere curiosities of printing. let us approve the exit of the folio and the quarto, and applaud the modern tendency toward little and handy volumes. large paper however is a worthy distinction when the subject is worth the distinction and the edition is not too large. nothing raises the gorge of the true book-worm more than to see an issue on large paper of a row of histories, for example; and the very worst instance conceivable was a large paper webster's "unabridged dictionary" issued some years ago. the book thus distinguished ought to be a classic, or peculiar for elegance, never a series, or stereotyped, the first struck off, and the issue ought not to be more than from fifty to one hundred copies; any larger issue is not worth the extra margin bestowed, and no experienced buyer will tolerate it. but if all these conditions are observed, the large paper copies bear the same relation to the small that a proof before letters of a print holds to the other impressions. large margins are very pleasant in a library as well as in wall street, and much more apt to be permanent. there are some favorite books of which the possessor longs in vain for a large copy, as for instance, the pickering "walton and cotton." a great deal of fun is made of the book-worm because of his desire for large paper and of his insistence on uncut edges, but his reasons are sound and his taste is unimpeachable. the tricks of the book-trade to catch the inexperienced with the bait of large paper are very amusing. "strictly limited" to so many copies for england and so many for america, say a thousand in all, or else the number is not stated, and always described as an edition de luxe, and its looks are always very repulsive. but the bait is eagerly bitten at by a shoal of beings anxious to get one of these rarities--a class to one of whom i once found it necessary to explain that "uncut edges" does not mean leaves not cut open, and that he would not injure the value of his book by being able to read it, and was not bound to peep in surreptitiously like a maid-servant at a door "on the jar." i once knew a satirical book-worm who issued a pamphlet, "one hundred copies on large paper, none on small." there is no just distinction in an ugly large-paper issue, and sometimes it is not nearly so beautiful as the small, especially when the latter has uncut edges. the independence of the collector who prefers the small in such circumstances is to be commended and imitated. too great inequality in uncut edges is also to be shunned as an ugliness. it seems that some french books are printed on paper of two different sizes, the effect of which is very grotesque, and the device is a catering to a very crude and extravagant taste. v. binding. the binding of books for several centuries has held the dignity of a fine art, quite independent of printing. this has been demonstrated by exhibitions in this country and abroad. but every collector ought to observe fitness in the binding which he procures to be executed. true fitness prevails in most old and fine bindings; seldom was a costly garb bestowed on a book unworthy of it. but in many a luxurious library we see a modern binding fit for a unique or rare book given to one that is comparatively worthless or common. not to speak of bindings that are real works of art, many collectors go astray in dressing lumber in purple and fine linen--putting full levant morocco on blockhead histories and such stuff that perishes in the not using. it is a sad spectacle to behold a unique binding wasted on a book of no more value than a backgammon board. there are of course not a great many of us who can afford unique bindings, but those who cannot should at least observe propriety and fitness in this regard, and draw the line severely between full dress and demi-toilette, and keep a sharp eye to appropriateness of color. i have known several men who bound their books all alike. nothing could be worse except one who should bind particular subjects in special styles, pace mr. ellwanger, who, in "the story of my house," advises the book-worm to "bind the poets in yellow or orange, books on nature in olive, the philosophers in blue, the french classics in red," etc. i am curious to know what color this pleasant writer would adopt for the binding of his books by military men, such for example as "major walpole's anecdotes." (p. ). ambrose fermin didot recommended binding the "iliad" in red and the "odyssey" in blue, for the greek rhapsodists wore a scarlet cloak when they recited the former and a blue one when they recited the latter. the churchmen he would clothe in violet, cardinals in scarlet, philosophers in black. i have imagined how a bibliomaniac binds his books. i'd like my favorite books to bind so that their outward dress to every bibliomaniac's mind their contents should express. napoleon's life should glare in red, john calvin's gloom in blue; thus they would typify bloodshed and sour religion's hue. the prize-ring record of the past must be in blue and black; while any color that is fast would do for derby track. the popes in scarlet well may go; in jealous green, othello; in gray, old age of cicero, and london cries in yellow. my walton should his gentle art in salmon best express, and penn and fox the friendly heart in quiet drab confess. statistics of the lumber trade should be embraced in boards, while muslin for the inspired maid a fitting garb affords. intestine wars i'd clothe in vellum, while pig-skin bacon grasps, and flat romances, such as "pelham," should stand in calf with clasps. blind-tooled should be blank verse and rhyme of homer and of milton; but newgate calendar of crime i'd lavishly dab gilt on. the edges of a sculptor's life may fitly marbled be, but sprinkle not, for fear of strife, a baptist history. crimea's warlike facts and dates of fragrant russia smell; the subjugated barbary states in crushed morocco dwell. but oh! that one i hold so dear should be arrayed so cheap gives me a qualm; i sadly fear my lamb must be half-sheep. no doubt a book-worm so far gone as this could invent stricter analogies and make even the binder fit the book. so we should have the bibliomaniac's assignment of binders. if i could bring the dead to day, i would your soul with wonder fill by pointing out a novel way for bibliopegistic skill. my walton, trautz should take in hand, or else i'd give him o'er to hering; matthews should make the gospels stand a solemn warning to the erring. the history of the inquisition, with all its diabolic train of cruelty and superstition, should fitly be arrayed by payne. a book of dreams by bedford clad, a papal history by de rome, should make the sense of fitness glad in every bibliomaniac's home. as our first mother's folly cost her sex so dear, and makes men grieve, so milton's plaint of eden lost would be appropriate to eve. hayday would make "one summer" be doubly attractive to the view; while general wolfe's biography should be the work of pasdeloup. for lives of dwarfs, like thomas thumb, petit's the man by nature made, and when munchasen strikes us dumb it is by means of gascon aid. thus would i the great binders blend in harmony with work before 'em, and so riviere i would commend to turner's "liber fluviorum." after all, whether one can afford a three-hundred or a three-dollar binding, the gentle elia has said the last word about fitness of bindings when he observed: "to be strong-backed and neat-bound is the desideratum of a volume; magnificence comes after. this, when it can be afforded, is not to be lavished on all kinds of books indiscriminately. "where we know that a book is at once both good and rare--where the individual is almost the species, 'we know not where is that prometian torch that can its light relumine;' "such a book for instance as the 'life of the duke of newcastle' by his duchess--no casket is rich enough, no casing sufficiently durable, to honor and keep safe such a jewel. "to view a well arranged assortment of block-headed encyclopoedias (anglicana or metropolitanas), set out in an array of russia and morocco, when a tithe of that good leather would comfortably reclothe my shivering folios, would renovate parcelsus himself, and enable old raymond lully to look like himself again in the world. i never see these impostors but i long to strip them and warm my ragged veterans in their spoils." there spoke the true book-worm. what a pity he could not have sold a part of his good sense and fine taste to some of the affluent collectors of this period! doubtless an experienced binder could give some amusing examples of mistakes in indorsing books with their names. one remains in my memory. a french binder, entrusted with a french translation of "uncle tom's cabin," in two volumes, put "l'oncle" on both, and numbered them "tome ," "tome ." charles cowden-clarke tells of his having ordered leigh hunt's poems entitled "foliage" to be bound in green, and how the book came home in blue. that would answer for the "blue grass" region of kentucky. i have no patience with those disgusting realists who bind books in human or snake skin. in his charming book on the law reporters, mr. wallace says of desaussures' south carolina reports: "when these volumes are found in their original binding most persons, i think, are struck with its peculiarity. the cause of it is, i believe, that it was done by negroes." what the "peculiarity" is he does not disclose. but book-binding seems to be an unwonted occupation for negro slaves. it was not often that they beat skins, although their own skins were frequently beaten. vi. paper. it is a serious question whether the art of printing has been improved except in facility. is not the first printed book still the finest ever printed? but in one point i am certain that the moderns have fallen away, at least in the production of cheap books, and that is in the quality and finish of the paper. not to speak of injurious devices to make the book heavy, the custom of calendering the paper, or making it smooth and shiny, practised by some important publishers, is bad for the eyes, and the result is not pleasant to look at. it is like the glare of the glass over the framed print. it is said to be necessary to the production of the modern "process" pictures. even here however there is a just mean, for some of the modern paper is absurdly rough, and very difficult for a good impression of the types. modern paper however has one advantage: mr. blades, in his pleasant "enemies of books," tells us "that the worm will not touch it," it is so adulterated. one hint i would give the publishers--allow us a few more fly leaves, so that we may paste in newspaper cuttings, and make memoranda and suggestions. it is predicted by some that our nineteenth century books--at least those of the last third--will not last; that the paper and ink are far inferior to those of preceding centuries, and that the destroying tooth of time will work havoc with them. no doubt the modern paper and the modern ink are inferior to those of the earlier ages of printing, when making a book was a fine art and a work of conscience, but whether the modern productions of the press will ultimately fade and crumble is a question to be determined only by a considerable lapse of time, which probably no one living will be qualified to pronounce upon. take for what they are worth my sentiments respecting the failing books. they say our books will disappear, that ink will fade and paper rot-- i sha'n't be here, so i don't care a jot. the best of them i know by heart, as for the rest they make me tired; the viler part may well be fired. oh, what a hypocritic show will be the bibliomaniac's hoard! cheat as hollow as a backgammon board. just think of lamb without his stuffing, and the iconoclastic howells, who spite of puffing is destitute of bowels. 'twould make me laugh to see the stare of mousing bibliomaniac fond at pages bare as overreach's bond. those empty titles will displease the earnest student seeking knowledge,-- barren degrees, like these of western college. that common stuff, "excelsior," in poetry so lacking, i care not for-- 'tis only fit for packing. it has occurred to me that publishers might appeal to bibliomaniacal tastes by paying a little more attention to their paper, and i have thrown a few suggestions on this point into rhyme, so that they may be readily committed to memory: suiting paper to subject. printers the paper should adapt unto the subject of the book, thus making buyers wonder-rapt before they at the contents look. thus beerbohm's learned book on eggs on a laid paper he should print, but motley's "dutch republic" begs rice paper should its matter hint. that curious problem of what man inhabited the iron mask than whatman paper never can a more suggestive medium ask. the "book of dates," by mr. haydon, should be on paper calendered; that swift on servants be arrayed on a hand-made paper is inferred. though angling-books have never been accustomed widely to appear on fly-paper, 'twould be no sin to have them wormed from front to rear. the good that authors thus may reap i'll not pursue to tedium, but hint, for books on raising sheep buckram is just the medium. vii. women as collectors. women collect all sorts of things except books. to them the book-sense seems to be denied, and it is difficult for them to appreciate its existence in men. to be sure, there have been a few celebrated book-collectors among the fair sex, but they have usually been rather reprehensible ladies, like diane de poictiers and madame pompadour. probably aspasia was a collector of mss. lady jane grey seems to have been a virtuous exception, and she was cruelly "cropped." i am told that there are a few women now-a-days who collect books, and only a few weeks ago a lady read, before a woman's club in chicago, a paper on the collection and adornment of books, for which occasion a fair member of the club solicited me to write her something appropriate to read, which of course i was glad to do. but this was in chicago, where the women go in for culture. in thirty years' haunting of the book-shops and print-shops of new york, i have never seen a woman catching a cold in her head by turning over the large prints, nor soiling her dainty gloves by handling the dirty old books. women have been depicted in literature in many different occupations, situations and pleasures, but in all the literature that i have read i can recall only one instance in which she is imagined a book-buyer. this is in "the sentimental journey," and in celebrating the unique instance let me rise to a nobler strain and sing a song of the sentimental chambermaid. when you're in paris, do not fail to seek the quai de conti, where in the roguish parson's tale, upon the river front he bespoke the pretty chambermaid too innocent to be afraid. on this book-seller's mouldy stall, crammed full of volumes musty, i made a bibliophilic call and saw, in garments rusty, the ancient vender, queer to view, in breeches, buckles, and a queue. and while to find that famous book, "les egaremens du coeur," i dilligently undertook, i suddenly met her; she held a small green satin purse, and spite of time looked none the worse. i told her she was known to fame through ministerial mentor, and though i had not heard her name, that this should not prevent her from listening to the homage due to one to sentiment so true. she blushed; i bowed in courtly fashion; in pockets of my trousers then sought a crown to vouch my passion, without intent to rouse hers; but i had left my purse 'twould seem-- and then i woke--'twas but a dream! the heart will wander, never doubt, though waking faith it keep; that is exceptionally stout which strays but in its sleep; and hearts must always turn to her who loved, "les egaremens du coeur." m. uzanne, in "the book-hunter in paris," avers that "the woman of fashion never goes book-hunting," and he puts the aphorism in italics. he also says that the occasional woman at the book-stalls, "if by chance she wants a book, tries to bargain for it as if it were a lobster or a fowl." also that the book-stall keepers are always watchful of the woman with an ulster, a water-proof, or a muff. these garments are not always impervious to books, it seems. the imitative efforts of women at "extra-illustrating" are usually limited to buying a set of photographs at rome and sticking them into the cracks of "the marble faun," and giving it away to a friend as a marked favor. poor hawthorne! he would wriggle in his grave if he could see his fair admirers doing this. mr. blades certainly ought to have included women among the enemies of books. they generally regard the husband's or father's expenditure on books as so much spoil of their gowns and jewels. we book-men are up to all the tricks of getting the books into the house without their knowing it. what joy and glee when we successfully smuggle in a parcel from the express, right under our wife's nose, while she is busy talking scandal to another woman in the drawing-room! the good creatures make us positively dishonest and endanger our eternal welfare. how we "hustle around" in their absence, when the embargo is temporarily raised; and when the new purchases are detected, how we pretend that they are old, and wonder that they have not seen them before, and rattle away in a fevered, embarrassed manner about the scarcity and value of the surreptitious purchases, and how meanly conscious we are all the time that the pretense is unavailing and the fair despots see right through us. god has given them an instinct that is more than a match for our acknowledged superior intellect. and the good wife smiles quietly but satirically, and says, in the form in that case made and provided, "my dear, you'll certainly ruin yourself buying books!" with a sigh that agitates a very costly diamond necklace reposing on her shapely bosom; or she archly shakes at us a warning finger all aglow with ruby and sapphire, which she has bought on installments out of the house allowance. fortunate for us if the library is not condemned to be cleaned twice a year. these beloved objects ought to deny themselves a ring, or a horse, or a gown, or a ball now and then, to atone for their mankind's debauchery in books; but do they? they ought to encourage the bibliomania, for it keeps their husbands out of mischief, away from "that horrid club," and safe at home of evenings. the book-worm is always a blameless being. he never has to hie to canada as a refuge. he is "absolutely pure," like all the baking powders. the gentle addison, in "the spectator," thus described a woman's library: "the very sound of a lady's library gave me a great curiosity to see it; and as it was some time before the lady came to me, i had an opportunity of turning over a great many of her books, which were ranged together in a very beautiful order. at the end of the folios (which were finely bound and gilt) were great jars of china placed one above another in a very noble piece of architecture. the quartos were separated from the octavos by a pile of smaller vessels, which rose in a delightful pyramid. the octavos were bounded by tea-dishes of all shapes, colors, and sizes, which were so disposed on a wooden frame that they looked like one continued pillar indented with the finest strokes of sculpture, and stained with the greatest variety of dyes. that part of the library which was designed for the reception of plays and pamphlets, and other loose papers, was inclosed in a kind of square, consisting of one of the prettiest grotesque works that i ever saw, and made up of scaramouches, lions, mandarins, monkeys, trees, shells, and a thousand other odd figures in china ware. in the midst of the room was a little japan table with a quire of gilt paper upon it, and on the paper a silver snuff-box made in shape of a little book. i found there were several other counterfeit books upon the upper shelves, which were carved in wood, and served only to fill up the number, like fagots in the muster of a regiment. i was wonderfully pleased with such a mixed kind of furniture as seemed very suitable both to the lady and the scholar, and did not know at first whether i should fancy myself in a grotto or in a library". if so great a favorite with the fair sex could say such satirical things of them, i may be permitted to have my own idea of a woman's idea of a library. i do not care so much for books, but libraries are all the style, with fine "editions de luxe" one's formal callers to beguile; with neat dwarf cases round the walls, and china teapots on the top, the empty shelves concealed by falls of india silk that graceful drop. a few rare etchings greet the view, like "harmony" and "harvest moon;" an artist's proof on satin too by what's-his-name is quite a boon. my print called "jupiter and jo" is very rarely seen, but then another copy i can show inscribed with "jupiter and ." a fisher boy in marble stoops on pedestal in window placed, and one of rogers' lovely groups is through the long lace curtains traced. and then i make a painting lean upon a white and gilded easel, illustrating that famous scene of joseph andrews and lady teazle. of course my shelves the works reveal of plutarch, rollin, and of tupper, while bowdler's shakespeare and "lucille" quite soothe one's spirits after supper. and when i visited dear rome i bought a lot of photographs, and had them mounted here at home, and though my dreadful husband laughs, i've put them in "the marble faun," and envious women vainly seek at scribner's shop, from early dawn, to find a volume so unique. and monthly here, in deep surmise, minerva's bust above us frowning, a club of women analyze the works of ibsen and of browning. in the charming romance, "realmah," the noble african prince prescribes monogamy to his subjects, but he allows himself three wives; one is a state wife, to sit by his side on the throne, help him receive embassadors, and preside at court dinners; another a household wife, to rule the kitchen and the homely affairs of the palace; the third is a love-wife, to be cherished in his heart and bear him children. why would it not be fair to the book-worm to concede him a book-wife, who should understand and sympathize with him in his eccentricity, and who should care more for rare and beautiful books than for diamonds, laces, easter bonnets and ten-button gloves? in regard to women's book-clubs, a recent writer, mr. edward sanford martin, in "windfalls of observation," observes: "if a man wants to read a book he buys it, and if he likes it he buys six more copies and gives (not all the same day, of course) to six women whose intelligence he respects. but if a club of fifteen girls determine to read a book, do they buy fifteen copies? no. do they buy five copies? no. do they buy--no, they don't buy at all; they borrow a copy. it doesn't lie in womankind to spend money for books unless they are meant to be a gift for some man." mr. martin is a little too hard here, for i have been told of such clubs which sometimes bought one copy. to be sure they always bully the bookseller into letting them have it at cost on account of the probable benefit to his trade. but it is true that no normally organized woman will forego a dollar's worth of ribbon or gloves for a dollar's worth of book. i have sometimes read aloud to a number of women while they were sewing, but i do it no more, for just as i got to a point where you ought to be able to hear a pin drop, i always have heard some woman whisper, "lend me your eighty cotton." a story was told me of the first meeting of a browning club in a large city in ohio. my informant was a young lady from the east, who was present, and my readers can safely rely on the correctness of the narration. the club was composed of young ladies from sixteen to twenty-five years of age, all of the "first families." it was thought best to take an easy poem for the first meeting, and so one of them read aloud, "the last ride together". after the reading there was a moment's silence, and then one observed that she would like to know whether they took that ride on horseback or in a "buggy." another silence, and then an artless young bud ventured the remark that she thought it must have been in a buggy, because if it was on horseback he could not have got his arm around her. i once thought of sending this anecdote to mr. browning, but was warned that he was destitute of the sense of humor, especially at his own expense, and so desisted. "ah, that our wives could only see how well the money is invested in these old books, which seem to be by them, alas! so much detested." but the wives are not always unwise in their opposition to their husband's book-buying. there is nothing more pitiful than to see the widow of a poor clergyman or lawyer trying to sell his library, and to witness her disappointment at the shrinkage of value which she had been taught and accustomed to regard as so great. a woman who has a true and wise sympathy with her husband's book-buying is an adored object. i recollect one such, who at her own suggestion gave up the largest and best room in her house to her husband's books, and received her callers and guests in a smaller one--she also received her husband's blessing. viii. the illustrator. the popular notion of the illustrator, as the term is used by the book-worm, is that he buys many valuable books containing pictures and spoils them by tearing the pictures out, and from them constructs another valuable book with pictures. we smile to read this in the newspapers. if it were strictly true it would be a very reprehensible practice. but generally the books compelled to surrender their prints to the illustrator are good for nothing else. to lament over them is as foolish as to grieve over the grape-skins out of which has been pressed the luscious johannisburger, or to mourn over the unsightly holes which the porcelain-potter has made in the clay-bank. even among book-worms the illustrator, or the "grangerite," as the term of reproach is, has come in for many hard knocks in recent years. john hill burton set the tune by his merry satire in "the book-hunter," in which he portrays the grangerite illustrating the pious watts' stanzas, beginning, "how doth the little busy bee." in his first edition mr. burton mentioned among "great writers on bees," whose portrait would be desirable, aristarchus, meaning probably aristomachus. this mistake is not corrected in the last edition, but the name is omitted altogether. mr. beverly chew "drops into poetry" on the subject, and thus apostrophises the grangerite: "ah, ruthless wight, think of the books you've turned to waste, with patient skill." mr. henri pere du bois thus describes the ordinary result: "of one hundred books extended by the insertion of prints which were not made for them, ninety-nine are ruined; the hundredth book is no longer a book; it is a museum. an imperfect book, built with the spoils of a thousand books; a crazy quilt made of patches out of gowns of queens and scullions." so burton compares the grangerite to genghis kahn. mr. lang declares the grangerites are "book ghouls, and brood, like the obscene demons of arabian superstition, over the fragments of the mighty dead." i would like to show mr. lang how i have treated his "letters to dead authors" and "old friends" by illustration. he would probably feel, with Æsop's lawyer, that "circumstances alter cases," although he says "no book deserves the honor". so a reviewer in "the nation" stigmatises grangerism as "a vampire art, maiming when it does not murder" (i did not know that vampires "maim" their victims) "and incapable of rising beyond canibalism" (not that they feed on one another, but when critics get excited their metaphors are apt to become mixed). "g. w. s.," of the new york "tribune," speaks of the achievement of the illustrators as "colossal vulgarities." mr. percy fitzgerald observes: "the pitiless grangerite slaughters a book for a few pictures, just as an epicure has had a sheep killed for the sweetbread". these are very choice hard words. there is much extravagance, but some justice in all this criticism. as a question of economics i do not find any great difference between a book-worm who spends thousands of dollars in constructing one attractive book from several not attractive, and one who spends a thousand dollars in binding a book, or for an example of a famous old binder. if there is any difference it is in favor of the grangerite, who improves the volume for the intelligent purposes of the reader, as against the other who merely caters to "the lust of the eye". i am willing to concede that the grangerite is sometimes guilty of some gross offenses against good taste and good sense. the worst of these is when he extends the text of the volume itself to a larger page in order to embrace large prints. this is grotesque, for it spoils the very book. he is also blamable when he squanders valuable prints and time and patience on mere book lumber, such as long rows of histories; and when he stuffs and crams his book; and when his pictures are not of the era of the events or of the time of life of the persons described; and when they are too large or too small to be in just proportion to the printed page; and when the book is so heavy and cumbersome that no one can handle it with comfort or convenience. above all he is blamable, in my estimation, when he entrusts the selection of prints to an agent. such agency is frequently very unsatisfactory, and at all events the illustrator misses the sport of the hunt. few men would entrust the furnishing or decorating of a house, the purchase of a horse, or the selection of a wife to a third person, and the delicate matter of choosing prints for a book is essentially one to be transacted in person. the danger of any other procedure in the case of a wife was illustrated by cromwell's agency for henry eighth in the affair of anne of cleves, the "flanders mare." but when it is properly done, it seems to me that the very best thing the book-worm ever does is to illustrate his books, because this insures his reading them, at least with his fingers. not always, for a certain chronicler of collections of privately illustrated books in this country narrates, how "relying upon the index" of a book, which he illustrated, he inserted a portrait of sam johnson, the famous, whereas "the text called for sam johnson, an eccentric dramatic writer," etc. his binder, he says, laughed at him for being ignorant that there "two sam johnsons" (there are four in the biographical dictionaries, one of whom was an early president of king's college in new york). but if done personally and conscientiously it is a means of valuable culture. as one of the oldest survivors of the genus illustrator in this country, i have thus assumed to offer an apology and defense for my much berated kind. and now let me make a few suggestions as to what seems to me the most suitable mode of the pursuit. in illustrating there seem to be two methods, which may be described as the literal or realistic, and imaginative. the first consists simply in the insertion of portraits, views and scenes appropriate to the text. a pleasing variety may be imparted to this method by substituting for a mere portrait a scene in the life of the celebrity in question. for example, if charles v. and titian are mentioned together, it would be interesting to insert a picture representing the historical incident of the emperor picking up and handing the artist a brush which he had dropped--and one will have an interesting hunt to find it. but i am more an adherent of the romantic school, which finds excellent play in the illustration of poetry. for example, in the poem, "ennui," in "the croakers," for the line, "the fiend, the fiend is on me still," i found, after a search of some years, a picture of an imp sitting on the breast of a man in bed with the gout. in the same stanza are the lines, "like a cruel cat, that sucks a child to death," and for this i have a print from a children's magazine, of a cat squatting on the breast of a child in a cradle. now i would like "a madagascar bat," which rhymes to "cat" in the poem. "and like a tom-cat dies by inches," is illustrated by a picture of a cat caught by the paw in a steel trap. "simon" was "a gentleman of color," the favorite pastry cook and caterer of new york half a century ago--before the days of mr. ward mcallister. "the croaker" advises him to "buy an eye-glass and become a dandy and a gentleman." this is illustrated by a rare and fine print of a colored gentleman, dressed in breeches, silk stockings, and ruffled shirt, scanning an overdressed lady of african descent through an eye-glass. "the ups and downs of politics" is illustrated by a cruikshank print, the upper part of which shows a party making an ascension in a balloon and the lower part a party making a descent in a diving-bell, and entitled "the ups and downs of life." to illustrate the phrase, "seeing the elephant," take the print of pyrrhus trying to frighten his captive, fabricus, by suddenly drawing the curtains of his tent and showing him an elephant with his trunk raised in a baggage-smashing attitude. for "the croakers" there are apt illustrations also of the following queer subjects: korah, dathan and abiram; miss atropos, shut up your scissors; albany's two steeples high in air, reading cobbett's register, bony in his prison isle, giant wife, beauty and the beast, fly market, tammany hall, the dove from noah's ark, rome saved by geese, cæsar offered a crown, cæsar crossing the rubicon, dick ricker's bust, sancho in his island reigning, the wisest of wild fowl, reynold' beer house, a mummy, a chimney sweep, the arab's wind, pygmalion, danae, highland chieftain with his tail on, nightmare, shaking quakers, polony's crazy daughter, bubble-blowing, first pair of breeches, banquo's ghost, press gang, fair lady with the bandaged eye, a warrior leaning on his sword, a warrior's tomb, a duel, and a street flirtation. as the charm of illustrating consists in the hunt for the prints, so the latter method is the more engrossing because the game is the more difficult to run down. portraits, views and scenes are plenty, but to find them properly adaptable is frequently difficult. some things which one would suppose readily procurable are really hard to find. for example, it was a weary chase to get a treadmill, and so of a drum-major, although the latter is now not uncommon: and although i know it exists, i have not attained unto a bastinado. sirens and mermaids are rather retiring, and when vedder depicted the sea-serpent he conferred a boon on illustrators. "god's scales," in which the mendicant weighs down the rich man, is a rarity. milton leaving his card on galileo in prison is among my wants, although i have seen it. as to scarce portraits, let me sing a song of the shy portraits. oh, why do you elude me so-- ye portraits that so long i've sought? that somewhere ye exist, i know-- indifferent, good, and good for naught. lucrezia, of the poisoned cup, why do you shrink away by stealth? to view your "mug" with you i'd sup, and even dare to drink your health. oh! why so coy, godiva fair? you're covered by your shining tresses, and i would promise not to stare at sheerest of go-diving dresses. come out, old bluebeard; don't be shy! you're not so bad as froude's great hero; xantippe, fear no law gone by when scolds were ducked in ponds at zero. not mealy-mouthed was mrs. behn, and prudish was satiric jane, but equally they both shun men, as if they bore the mark of cain. george barrington, you may return to country which you "left for good;" psalmanazar, i would not spurn your language when 'twas understood. jean grolier, you left many books-- they come so dear i must ignore 'em-- but there's no evidence of your looks for us surviving "amicorum." this country's overrun by grangers-- i'm ignorant of their christian names but my afflicted eyes are strangers to one i want whom men call james. there's heber, man of many books-- you're far more modest than the bishop; i'm curious to learn your looks, and care for nothing shown at his shop. and oh! that wondrous, pattern child! his truthfulness, no one can match it; dear little george! i'm almost wild to find a wood-cut of his hatchet. show forth your face, anonymous, whose name is in the books i con most frequently; so famous thus, will you not come to me anon? by way of jest i have inserted an anonymous portrait opposite an anonymous poem, and was once gravely asked by an absent-minded friend if it really was the portrait of the author. one however will probably look in vain for portraits of "quatorze" and "quinze," for which a print seller of new york once had an inquiry, and i have been told of a collector who returned arlington because of the cut on his nose, and ogle because of his damaged eye. but there is more sport in hunting for a dodo than a rabbit. it is also a pleasant thing to lay a picture occasionally in a book without setting out to illustrate it regularly, so that it may break upon one as a surprise when he takes up the book years afterward. it is a grateful surprise to find in ruskin's "modern painters" a casual print from roger's "italy," and in hamerton's books some sporadic etchings by rembrandt or hayden. it is like discovering an unexpected "quarter" in the pocket of an old waistcoat. for example, in "with thackeray in america," mr. eyre crowe tells how the second number of the first edition of "the newcomes" came to the author when he was in paris, and how he found fault with doyle's illustration of the games of the charterhouse boys. he says: "the peccant accessory which roused the wrath of the writer was the group of two boys playing at marbles on the left of the spectator. 'why,' said the irate author, 'they would as soon thought of cutting off their heads as play marbles at the charterhouse!' this woodcut was, i noticed, suppressed altogether in subsequent editions." now in my copy--not being the possessor of the first edition--i have made a reference to mr. crowe's passage, and supplied the suppressed cut from an early american copy which cost me twenty-five cents. how many of the first edition men know of the interesting fact narrated by mr. crowe? the illustrator ought always at least to insert the portrait of the author whenever it has been omitted by the publisher. second: what to illustrate. the illustrator should not be an imitator or follower, but should strive after an unhackneyed subject. a man is not apt to marry the woman who flings herself at his head; he loves the excitement of courting; and so there is not much amusement in utilizing common pictures, but the charm consists in hunting for scarce ones. it is very natural to tread in others' tracks, and easy, because the market affords plenty of material for the common subjects. shakespeare and walton and boswell's johnson, and a few other things of that sort, have been done to death, and there is fairer scope in something else. biographies of painters, elia's essays, sir thomas browne's "religio medici" and "urn burial," "childe harold," horace, virgil, the life of bayard, or of vittoria colonna, or philip sidney, and sappho are charming subjects, and not too common. a ponderous or voluminous work lends itself less conveniently to the purpose than a small book in one or two volumes. great quartos and folios are mere mausoleums or repositories for expensive prints, too huge to handle, and too extensive for any one ever to look through, and therefore they afford little pleasure to the owners or their guests. an illustrated shakespeare in thirty volumes is theoretically a very grand object, but i should never have the heart to open it, and as for histories, i should as soon think of illustrating a dictionary. walton is a lovely subject, but i would adopt a small copy and keep it within two or three volumes. after all there is nothing so charming as a single little illustrated volume, like "ballads of books," compiled by brander matthews; andrew lang's "letters to dead authors," or "old friends," friswell's "varia," the "book of death," "melodies and madrigals," "the book of rubies," winter's "shakespeare's england." a gentleman who published, a good many years ago, a monograph of privately illustrated books in this country, spoke of the work that i had done in this field, and criticised me for my "apparent want of method," "eccentricity," "madness," "vagaries," "omnivorousness," and "lack of speciality or system," and finally, although he blamed me for having illustrated pretty much everything, he also blamed me for not having illustrated any "biographical works." this criticism seems not only inconsistent, but without basis, for one man may not dictate to another what he shall prefer to illustrate for his own amusement, any more than what sort of a house or pictures he shall buy or what complexion or stature his wife shall have. the author also did me the honor to spell my name wrong, and did the famous greek amatory poet the honor of mentioning among my illustrated work, "odes to anacreon." would that i could find that book! i offer these suggestions with diffidence, and with no intention to impose my taste upon others. if the illustrator can get or make something absolutely unique he is a fortunate man. for example, i know one, stigmatized as eccentric, who has illustrated a printed catalogue of his own library with portraits of the authors, copies of prints in the books, and duplicates of engraved title-pages; also one who has illustrated a collection in print or in manuscript of his own poems; also one who has illustrated a life of hercules, written by himself, printed by one of his own family, and adorned with prints from antique gems and other subjects; and even a lawyer who has illustrated a law book written by himself, in which he has found place for prints so diverse and apparently out of keeping as jonah and the whale, john brown, a man pacing the floor in a nightgown with a crying baby, a "darkey" shot in a melon-patch, an elephant on the rampage, cupid, hudibras writing a letter, joanna southcote, launce and his dog, a dog catching a boy going over a wall, dr. watts, robinson crusoe, barnum in the form of a hum-bug, jacob hall the rope dancer, lord mayor's procession, raphael discoursing to adam, gathering sea-weed, artemus ward, a whale ashore, a barber-shop, gilpin's ride, king lear, st. lawrence on his gridiron, charles lamb, terpsichore, and a child tumbling into a well. the owner of such a book may be sure that it is unique, as the man was certain his coat of arms was genuine, because he made it himself. third: the illustrator should not be in a hurry. there are three singular things about the hunt for pictures. one is, the moment you have your book bound, no matter how many years you may have waited, some rare picture you wanted is sure to turn up. hence the reluctance of the illustrator to commit himself to binding, a reluctance only paralleled by that of the lover to marry the woman he had courted for ten years, because then he would have no place to spend his evenings. (i have had books "in hand" for twenty years). another is, when you have found your rare picture you are pretty certain to find one or two duplicates. prints, like accidents or crimes, seem to come in cycles and schools. i have known a man to search in vain in thirty print-shops in london, and coming home find what he wanted in a new york print-shop, and two copies at that. the third is, that you are continually coming very near the object without quite attaining it. thus one may get lady godiva alone, and the effigy of peeping tom on the corner of an old house at coventry, but to procure the whole scene is, so far as i know, out of the question. it would seem that mr. anthony comstock has put his ban on it. so one will find it difficult to get "god's scales," in which wealth and poverty are weighed against each other, but i have had other scales thrust at me, such as those in which the emblems of love are weighed against those of religion, and a king against a beggar, but even the latter is not the precise thing, for in these days there are poor kings and rich beggars. one opinion in which all illustrators agree seems sound, and that is, that photographs are not to be tolerated. photography is the most misrepresentative of arts. but an exception may be indulged in the case of those few celebrities who are too modest to allow themselves to be engraved, and of whom photography furnishes the only portraiture. a photographic copy of a rare portrait in oil is also admissible. some also exclude wood-cuts. i am not such a purist as that. they are frequently the only means of illustrating a subject, and small and fine wood-cuts form charming head and tail pieces and marginal adornments. one who eschews wood-cuts must forego such interesting little subjects as washington and his little hatchet, god's scales, the skeleton in the closet, and many of those which i have particularized. i flatter myself that i have made the margins of a good many books very interesting by means of small wood-cuts, of which our modern magazines provide an abundant and exquisite supply. these furnish a copious source of specific illustration. with their zeal illustrators are sometimes apt to be anachronistic. every book ought to be illustrated in the spirit and costume of its time. the book should not be stuffed too full of prints; let a better proportion be preserved between the text and the illustrations than falstaff observed between his bread and his sack. the prints should not be so numerous as to cause the text to be forgotten, as in the case of a tedious sermon. probably nearly every collector expects that his treasures will be dispersed at his death, if not sooner. but it is a serious question to the illustrator, what will become of these precious objects upon which he has spent so much time, thought and labor, and for which he has expended so much money. he never cares and rarely knows, and if he knows he never tells, how much they have cost, but he may always be certain that they will never fetch their cost. let us not indulge in any false dreams on this subject. the time may have been when prints were cheap and when the illustrator may have been able to make himself whole or even reap a profit, but that day i believe has gone by. one can hardly expect that his family will care for these things; the son generally thinks the book-worm a bore, and the wife of one's bosom and the daughter of one's heart usually affect more interest than they feel, and if they kept such objects would do so from a sense of duty alone, as the ancient romans preserved the cinerary urns of their ancestors. for myself, i have often imagined my grandson listlessly turning over one of my favorite illustrated volumes, and saying, "what a funny old duffer grandad must have been!" such a book-club, as the "grolier," of new york, is a fortunate avenue of escape from these evils. there one might deposit at least some of his peculiar treasures, certain that they would receive good care, be regarded with permanent interest, and keep alive his memory. to augment his books by inserting prints is ordinarily just the one thing which the book-worm can do to render them in a deeper sense his own, and to gain for himself a peculiar proprietorship in them. generally he cannot himself bind them, but by this means he may render himself a coadjutor of the author, and place himself on equal terms with the printer and the binder. after he has illustrated a favorite book once, it is an enjoyable occupation for the book-worm to do it over again, in a different spirit and with different pictures. "second thoughts are best," it has been said, and i have more than once improved my subject by a second treatment. there is another form of illustration, of which i have not spoken, and that is the insertion of clippings from magazines and newspapers in the fly leaves. sometimes these are of intense interest. my own dickens, thackeray and hawthorne, in particular have their porticoes and posterms plentifully supplied with material of this sort. the latest contribution of this kind is to "martin chuzzlewit," and consists in the information that a western american "land-shark" has recently swindled people by selling them swamp-lots, attractively depicted on a map and named eden. in my pepys i have laid mr. lang's recent letter to the diarist. so on a fly leaf of hawthorne's life it is pleasing to see a cut of his little red house at lenox, now destroyed by fire. ix. book-plates. a rather modern form of book-spoliation has arisen in the collection of book-plates. these are literally derived "ex libris," and the business cannot be indulged, as a general thing, without in some sense despoiling books. it cannot be denied that it is a fascinating pursuit. so undoubtedly is the taking of watches or rings or other "articles of bigotry or virtue," on the highway. but somehow there is something so essentially personal in a book-plate, that it is hard to understand why other persons than the owners should become possessed by a passion for it. many years ago when burton, the great comedian, was in his prime, he used to act in a farce called "toodles"--at all events, that was his name in the play--and he was afflicted with a wife who had a mania for attending auctions and buying all kinds of things, useful or useless, provided that they only seemed cheap. one day she came home with a door-plate, inscribed, "thompson"--"thompson with a p," as toodles wrathfully described it; and this was more than toodles could stand. he could not see what possible use there could ever be in that door-plate for the toodles family. in those same days, there used to be displayed on the door of a modest house, on the east side of broadway, in the city of new york, somewhere about eighth street, a silver door-plate inscribed, "mr. astor." this appertained to the original john jacob. in those days i frequently remarked it, and thought what a prize it would be to mrs. toodles or some collector of door-plates. now i can understand why one might acquire a taste for collecting book-plates of distinguished men or famous book-collectors, just as one collects autographs; but why collect hundreds and thousands of book-plates of undistinguished and even unknown persons, frequently consisting of nothing more than family coats-of-arms, or mere family names? i must confess that i share to a certain extent in mr. lang's antipathy to this species of collecting, and am disposed to call down on these collectors shakespeare's curse on him who should move his bones. but i cannot go with mr. lang when he calls these well-meaning and by no means mischevious persons some hard names. in some localities it is quite the vogue to take off the coffin-plate from the coffin--all the other silver "trimmings," too, for that matter--and preserve it, and even have it framed and hung up in the home of the late lamented. there may be a sense of proprietorship in the mourners, who have bought and paid for it, and see no good reason for burying it, that will justify this practice. at all events it is a family matter. the coffin plate reminds the desolate survivors of the person designated, who is shelved forever in the dust. but what would be said of the sense or sanity of one who should go about collecting and framing coffin-plates, cataloguing them, and even exchanging them? book-worms penetrate to different distances in books. some go no further than the title page; others dig into the preface or bore into the table of contents; a few begin excavations at the close, to see "how it comes out." but that worm is most easily satisfied who never goes beyond the inside of the front cover, and passes his time in prying off the book-plates. i think i have heard of persons who collect colophons. these go to work in the reverse direction, and are even more reprehensible than the accumulators of book-plates, because they inevitably ruin the book. a book-plate is appropriate, sometimes ornamental, even beautiful, in its intended place in the proprietor's book. out of that, with rare exceptions, it strikes one like the coffin-plate, framed and hanging on the wall. it gives additional value and attractiveness to a book which one buys, but it ought to remain there. if one purchases books once owned by a, b and c--undistinguished persons, or even distinguished--containing their autographs, he does not cut them out to form a collection of autographs. if the name is not celebrated, the autograph has no interest or value; if famous, it has still greater interest and value by remaining in the book. so it seems to me it should be in respect to book-plates. let mr. astor's door-plate stay on his front door, and let the energetic mrs. toodles content herself in buying something less invididual and more adaptable. a book-plate really is of no value except to the owner, as the man says of papers which he has lost. it cannot be utilized to mark the possessions of another. in this respect it is of inferior value to the door-plate, for possibly another mr. astor might arise, to whom the orignal door-plate might be sold. a boston newspaper tells of a peddler of door-plates who contracted to sell a salem widow a door-plate; and when she gave him her name to be engraved on it, gave only her surname, objecting to any first name or initials, observing: "i might get married again, and if my initials or first name were on the plate, it would be of no use. if they are left off, the plate could be used by my son." thus much about collecting book-plates. one word may be tolerated about the character of one's own book-plate. to my taste, mere coats-of-arms with mottoes are not the best form. they simply denote ownership. they might well answer some further purpose, as for example to typify the peculiar tastes of the proprietor in respect to his books. a portrait of the owner is not objectionable, indeed is quite welcome in connection with some device or motto pertaining to books and not to mere family descent. but why, although a collector may have a favorite author, like hawthorne or thackeray, for example, should he insert his portrait in his book-plate, as is often done? mr. howells would writhe in his grave if he knew that somebody had stuck thackeray's portrait or scott's in "silas lapham," and those calvinists who think that the "scarlet letter" is wicked, would pronounce damnation on the man who should put the gentle hawthorne's portrait in a religious book. to be sure, one might have a variety of book-plates, with portraits appropriate to different kinds of books--napoleon's for military, calvin for religious, walton's for angling and a composite portrait of howells-james for fiction of the photographic school; but this would involve expense and destroy the intrinsic unity desirable in the book-plate. so let the portrait, if any, be either that of the proprietor or a conventional image. if i were to relax and allow a single exception it would be in favor of dear charles lamb's portrait in "fraser's," representing him as reading a book by candle light. (for the moment this idea pleases me so much that i feel half inclined to eat all my foregoing words on this point, and adopt it for myself. at any rate, i hereby preempt the privilege.) i have referred to mr. lang's antipathy to book-plate collectors, and while, as i have observed, he goes to extravagant lengths in condemning their pursuit, still it may be of interest to my readers to know just what he says about them, and so i reproduce below a ballad on the subject, with (the material for) which he kindly supplied me when i solicited his mild expression of opinion on the subject: the snatchers. the romans snatched the sabine wives; the crime had some extenuation, for they were leading lonely lives and driven to reckless desperation. lord elgin stripped the grecian frieze of all its marbles celebrated, so our art-students now with ease consult the figures overrated. napoleon stole the southern pictures and hung them up to grace the louvre; and though he could not make them fixtures, they answered as an art-improver. bold men ransack an egyptian tomb, and with the mummies there make free; such intermeddling with time's womb may aid in archeology. so cruncher dug up graves in haste, to sell the corpses to the doctors; this trade was not against his taste, though misses "flopped," and vowed it shocked hers. the modern snatcher sponges leaves and boards of books to crib their labels; most petty, trivial of thieves, surpassing all we read in fables. he pastes them in a big, blank book to show them to some rival fool, and i pronounce him, when i look, an almost idiotic ghoul. x. the book-auctioneer. there is one figure that stands in a very unpleasant relation to books. if anybody has any curiosity to know what i consider the most undesirable occupation of mankind, i will answer candidly--that of an auctioneer of private libraries. it does not seem to have fallen into disrepute like that of the headsman or hangman, and perhaps it is as unpleasantly essential as that of the undertaker. but it generally thrives on the unhappiness of those who are compelled to part with their books, on the rivalries of the rich, and the strifes of the trade. it was urged against mr. cleveland, on his first canvass for the presidency, that when he was sheriff he had hanged a murderer. for my own part, i admired him for performing that solemn office himself rather than hiring an underling to do it. but if he had been a book-auctioneer, i might have been prejudiced against him. not so ignoble and inhuman perhaps as that of the slave-seller, still the business must breed a sort of callousness which is abhorrent to the genial book-worm. how i hate the glib rattle of his tongue, the mouldiness of his jests and the transparency of his puffery! i should think he would hate himself. it must be worse than acting hamlet or humpty dumpty a hundred consecutive nights. dante had no punishment for the book-worm in hell, if i remember right, but if he deserved any pitiless reprobation, it would be found in compelling him to cry off books to all eternity. grant that the auctioneer is a person of sensibility and acquainted with good books, then his calling must give him many a pang as he observes the ignorance and carelessness of his audience. it is better and more fitting that he should know little of his wares. he ought to be well paid for his work, and he is--no man gets so much for mere talk except the lawyer, and perhaps not even he. i do not so much complain of his favoritism. when there is something especially desirable going, i frequently fail to catch his eye, and my rival gets the prize. but in this he is no worse than the speaker. on the other hand he sometimes loads me up with a thing that i do not want, and in possession of which i would be unwilling to be found dead, pretending that i winked at him--a species of imposition which it is impolitic to resent for fear of being entirely ignored. these discretionary favors are regarded as a practical joke and must not be declined. but what i do complain of is his commercial stolidity, surpassing that of charles surface when he sold the portraits of his ancestors. the "bete noir" of the book trade is the stolid auctioneer. let not a sad ghost from the scribbling host revisit this workaday sphere; he'll find in the sequel all talents are equal when they come to the auctioneer. not a whit cares he what the book may be, whether missal with glorious show, a folio shakespeare, or an elzevir, or a tupper, or e. p. roe. without any qualms he knocks down the psalms, or the chaste imitatio, and takes the same pains to enhance his gains with a ribald boccaccio. he rattles them off, not stopping to cough, he shows no distinction of person; one minute's enough for similar stuff like shelley and ossian macpherson. a paradise lost is had for less cost than a bulky "fifteener" in greek, and addison's prose quite frequently goes for a tenth of a worthless "unique." this formula stale of his will avail for an epitaph meet for his rank, when dropping his gavel he falls in the gravel, "do i hear nothing more?--gone--to--? i speak feelingly, but i think it is pardonable. i once went through an auction sale of my own books, and while i lost money on volumes on which i had bestowed much thought, labor and expense, i made a profit on gibbon's "decline and fall" in tree-calf. i do not complain of the loss; what i was mortified by was the profit. but the auctioneer was not at all abashed; in fact he seemed rather pleased, and apparently regarded it as a feather in his cap. i have always suspected that the shameless purchaser was silas wegg. xi. the bookseller. considering his importance in modern civilization, it is singular that so little has been recorded of the bookseller in literature. shakespeare has a great deal to say of books of various kinds, but not a word, i believe, of the bookseller. it is true that ursa major gave a mitigated growl of applause to the booksellers, if i recollect my boswell right, and he condescended to write a life of cave, but bookseller in his view meant publisher. it is true that charles knight wrote a book entitled "shadows of the old booksellers," but here too the characters were mainly publishers, and his account of them is indeed shadowy. the chief thing that i recall about any of the booksellers thus celebrated is that tom davies had "a pretty wife," which is probably the reason why doctor johnson thought tom would better have stuck to the stage. so far as i know, the most vivid pen-pictures of booksellers are those depicting the humble members of the craft, the curb-stone venders. they are much more picturesque than their more affluent brethren who are used to the luxury of a roof. rummaging over the contents of an old stall, at a half book, half old iron shop in ninety-four alley, leading from wardour street to soho, yesterday, i lit upon a ragged duodecimo, which has been the strange delight of my infancy; the price demanded was sixpence, which the owner (a little squab duodecimo of a character himself) enforced with the assurance that his own mother should not have it for a farthing less. on my demurring to this extraordinary assertion, the dirty little vender reinforced his assertion with a sort of oath, which seemed more than the occasion demanded. "and now," said he, "i have put my soul to it." pressed by so solemn an asseveration, i could no longer resist a demand which seemed to set me, however unworthy, upon a level with his nearest relations; and depositing a tester, i bore away the battered prize in triumph. --essays of elia. monsieur uzanne, who has treated of the elegancies of the fan, the muff, and the umbrella, has more recently given the world a quite unique series of studies among the bookstalls and the quays of paris--"the book hunter in paris"--and this too one finds more entertaining than any account of quaritch's or putnam's shop would be. i must bear witness to the honesty and liberality of booksellers. when one considers the hundreds of catalogues from which he has ordered books at a venture, even from across the ocean, and how seldom he has been misled or disappointed in the result, one cannot subscribe to a belief in the dogma of total depravity. i remember some of my booksellers with positive affection. they were such self-denying men to consent to part with their treasures at any price. and as a rule they are far more careless than ordinary merchants about getting or securing their pay. to be sure it is rather ignoble for the painter of a picture, or the chiseller of a statue, or the vender of a fine book, to affect the acuteness of tradesmen in the matter of compensation. the excellent bookseller takes it for granted, if he stoops to think about it, that if a man orders a caxton or a grolier he will pay for it, at his convenience. it was this unthinking liberality which led a new york bookseller to give credit to a distinguished person--afterwards a candidate for the presidency--to a considerable amount, and to let the account stand until it was outlawed, and his sensibilities were greviously shocked, when being compelled to sue for his due, his debtor pleaded the statute of limitations! his faith was not restored even when the acute buyer left a great sum of money by his will to found a public library, and the legacy failed through informality. i have only one complaint to make against booksellers. they should teach their clerks to recognize the book-worm at a glance. it is very annoying, when i go browsing around a book-shop, to have an attendant come up and ask me, who have bought books for thirty years, if he can "show me anything"--just as if i wanted to see anything in particular--or if "anybody is waiting on me"--when all i desire is to be let alone. some booksellers, i am convinced, have this art of recognition, for they let me alone, and i make it a rule always to buy something of them, but never when their employees are so annoyingly attentive. i do not object to being watched; it is only the implication that i need any assistance that offends me. it is easy to recognize the book-worm at a glance by the care with which he handles the rare books and the indifference with which he passes the standard authors in holiday bindings. once i had a bookseller who had a talent for drawing, which he used to exercise occasionally on the exterior of an express package of books. one of these wrappings i have preserved, exhibiting a pen-and-ink drawing of a war-ship firing a big gun at a few small birds. perhaps this was satirically intended to denote the pains and time he had expended on so small a sale. but i will now immortalize him. the most striking picture of a bookseller that i recall in all literature is one drawn by m. uzanne, in the charming book mentioned above, which i will endeavor to transmute and transmit under the title of the prophetic book. "la croix," said the emperor, "cease to beguile; these bookstalls must go from my bridges and quays; no longer shall tradesmen my city defile with mouldering hideous scarecrows like these." while walking that night with the bibliophile, on the quai malaquais by the rue de saints peres, the emperor saw, with satirical smile, enkindling his stove, in the chill evening air, with leaves which he tore from a tome by his side, a bookseller ancient, with tremulous hands; and laying aside his imperial pride, "what book are you burning?" the emperor demands. for answer pere foy handed over the book, and there as the headlines saluted his glance, napoleon read, with a stupefied look, "account of the conquests and victories of france." the dreamer imperial swallowed his ire; pere foy still remained at his musty old stand, till france was environed by sword and by fire, and germans like locusts devoured the land. doubtless the occupation of bookseller is generally regarded as a very pleasant as well as a refined one. but there is another side, in the estimation of a true book-worm, and it is not agreeable to him to contemplate the life of the book-seller. he stands surrounded by rare tomes which find with him their transient homes, he knows their fragrant covers; he keeps them but a week or two, surrenders then their charming view to bibliomaniac lovers. an enviable man, you say, to own such wares if but a day, and handle, see and smell; but all the time his spirit shrinks, as wandering through his shop he thinks he only keeps to sell. the man who buys from him retains his purchase long as life remains, and then he doesn't mind if his unbookish eager heirs, administering his affairs, shall throw them to the wind. or if in life he sells, in sooth, 'tis parting with a single tooth, a momentary pain; booksellers, like sir walter's jew, must this keen suffering renew, again and yet again. and so we need not envy him who sells us books, for stark and grim remains this torture deep. this universalistic hell-- throughout this life he's bound to sell; he has, but cannot keep. xii. the public librarian. there is one species of the book-worm which is more pitiable than the bookseller, and that is the public librarian, especially of a circulating library. he is condemned to live among great collections of books and exhibit them to the curious public, and to be debarred from any proprietorship in them, even temporary. but the greater part this does not grieve a true book-worm, for he would scorn ownership of a vast majority of the books which he shows, but on the comparatively rare occasions when he is called on to produce a real book (in the sense of bibliomania), he must be saddened by the reflection that it is not his own, and that the inspection of it is demanded of him as a matter of right. i have often observed the ill concealed reluctance with which the librarian complies with such a request; how he looks at the demandant with a degree of surprise, and then produces the key of the repository where the treasure is kept under guard, and heaving a sigh delivers the volume with a grudging hand. it was this characteristic which led me in my youth, before i had been inducted into the delights of bibliomania and had learned to appreciate the feelings of a librarian, to define him as one who conceives it to be his duty to prevent the public from seeing the books. i owe a good old librarian an apology for having said this of him, and hereby offer my excuses to one whose honorable name is recorded in the book of life. much is to be forgiven to the man who loves books, and yet is doomed to deal out books that perish in the using, which no human being would ever read a second time nor "be found dead with." these are the true tests of a good book, especially the last. shelley died with a little Æschylus on his person, which the cruel waves spared, and when tennyson fell asleep it was with a shakespeare, open at "cymbeline." one may be excused for reading a good deal that he never would re-read, but not for owning it, nor for owning a good deal which he would feel ashamed to have for his last earthly companion. but now for my tribute to the public librarian. his books extend on every side, and up and down the vistas wide his eye can take them in; he does not love these books at all, their usefulness in big and small he counts as but a sin. and all day long he stands to serve the public with an aching nerve; he views them with disdain-- the student with his huge round glasses, the maiden fresh from high school classes, with apathetic brain; the sentimental woman lorn, the farmer recent from his corn, the boy who thirsts for fun, the graybeard with a patent-right, the pedagogue of school at night, the fiction-gulping one. they ask for histories, reports, accounts of turf and prize-ring sports, the census of the nation; philosophy and science too, the fresh romances not a few, also "degeneration." "they call these books!" he said, and throws them down in careless heaps and rows before the ticket-holder; he'd like to cast them at his head, he wishes they might strike him dead, and with the reader moulder. but now as for the shrine of saint he seeks a spot whence sweet and faint a leathery smell exudes, and there behind the gilded wires for some loved rarity inquires which common gaze eludes. he wishes omar would return that vulgar mob of books to burn, while he, like virgil's hero, would shoulder off this precious case to some secluded private place with temperature at zero. and there in that seraglio of books not kept for public show, he'd feast his glowing eyes, forgetting that these beauties rare, morocco-clad and passing fair, are but the sultan's prize. but then a tantalizing sense invades expectancy intense, and with extorted moan, "unhappy man!" he sighs, "condemned to show such treasure and to lend-- i keep, but cannot own!" xiii. does book collecting pay. we now come to the sordid but serious consideration whether books are a "good investment" in the financial sense. the mind of every true book-worm should revolt from this question, for none except a bookseller is pardonable for buying books with the design of selling them. booksellers are a necessary evil, as purveyors for the book-worm. i regard them as the old woman regarded the thirty-nine articles of faith; when inquired of by her bishop what she thought of them, she said, "i don't know as i've anything against them." so i don't know that i have anything against booksellers, although i must concede that they generally have something against me. as no well regulated man ever grudges expense on the house that forms his home, or on its adornment, and rarely cares or even reflects whether he can get his money back, so it is with the true bibliomaniac. he never intends to part with his books any more than with his homestead. then again the use and enjoyment of books ought to count for something like interest on the capital invested. many times, directly or indirectly, the use of a library is worth even more than the interest on the outlay. it is singular how expenditure in books is regarded as an extravagance by the business world. one may spend the price of a fine library in fast or showy horses, or in travel, or in gluttony, or in stock speculations eventuating on the wrong side of his ledger, and the money-grubbing community think none the worse of him. but let him expend annually a few thousands in books, and these sons of mammon pull long faces, wag their shallow heads, and sneeringly observe, "screw loose somewhere," "never get half what he has paid for them," "too much of a book-worm to be a sharp business man." a man who boldly bets on stocks in wall street is a gallant fellow, forsooth, and excites the admiration of the business community (especially of those who thrive on his losses) even when he "comes out at the little end of the horn." as ruskin observes, we frequently hear of a bibliomaniac, never of a horse-maniac. it is said there is a private stable in syracuse, new york, which has cost several hundred thousand dollars. the owner is regarded as perfectly sane and the building is viewed with great pride by the public, but if the owner had expended as much on a private library his neighbors would have thought him a lunatic. if a man in business wants to excite the suspicion of the sleek gentlemen who sit around the discount board with him, or yell like lunatics at the stock exchange with him, or talk with him about the tariff or free silver, or any other subject on which no two men ever agree unless it is for their interest, let it leak out that he has put a few thousand dollars into a mazarine bible, or a caxton, or a first folio shakespeare or some other rare book. no matter if he can afford it, most of his associates regard him as they do a bedlamite who goes about collecting straws. fortunate is he if his wife does not privately call on the family attorney and advise with him about putting a committee over the poor man. but if we must regard book-buying in a money sense, and were to admit that books never sell for as much as they cost, it is no worse in respect to books than in respect to any other species of personal property. what chattel is there for which the buyer can get as much as he paid, even the next day? when it is proposed to transform the seller himself into the buyer of the same article, we find that the bull of yesterday is converted into the bear of to-day. circumstances alter cases. i have bought a good many books and "objects of bigotry and virtue," and have sold some, and the nearest i ever came to getting as much as i paid was in the case of a rare print, the seller of which, after the lapse of several years, solicited me to let him have it again, at exactly what i paid for it, in order that he might sell it to some one else at an advance. i declined his offer with profuse thanks, and keep the picture as a curiosity. so i should say, as a rule, that books are not a good financial investment in the business sense, and speaking of most books and most buyers. give a man the same experience in buying books that renders him expert in buying other personal property, the mere gross objects of trade, and let him set out with the purpose of accumulating a library that shall be a remunerative financial investment, and he may succeed, indeed, has often succeeded, certainly to the extent of getting back his outlay with interest, and sometimes making a handsome profit. but this needs experience. just as one must build at least two houses before he can exactly suit himself, so he must collect two libraries before he can get one that will prove a fair investment in the vulgar sense of trade. i dare say that one will frequently pay more for a fine microscope or telescope than he can ever obtain for it if he desires or is pressed to sell it, but who would or should stop to think of that? the power of prying into the mysteries of the earth and the wonders of the heavens should raise one's thoughts above such petty considerations. so it should be in buying that which enables one to converse with shakespeare or milton or scan the works of raphael or durer. when the pioneer on the western plains purchases an expensive rifle he does not inquire whether he can sell it for what it costs; his purpose is to defend his house against indians and other wild beasts. so the true book-buyer buys books to fight weariness, disgust, sorrow and despair; to loose himself from the world and forget time and all its limitations and besetments. in this view they never cost too much. and so when asked if book-collecting pays, i retort by asking, does piety pay? "honesty is the best policy" is the meanest of maxims. honesty ought to be a principle and not a policy; and book-collecting ought to be a means of education, refinement and enjoyment, and not a mode of financial investment. xiv. the book-worm's faults. this is not a case of "snakes in iceland," for the book-worm has faults. one of his faults is his proneness to regard books as mere merchandise and not as vehicles of intellectual profit, that is to say, to be read. too many collectors buy books simply for their rarity and with too little regard to the value of their contents. the circassian slave-dealer does not care whether his girls can talk sense or not, and too many men buy books with a similar disregard to their capacity for instructing or entertaining. it seems to me that a man who buys books which he does not read, and especially such as he cannot read, merely on account of their value as merchandise, degrades the noble passion of bibliomania to the level of a trade. when i go through such a library i think of what christ said to the traders in the temple. another fault is his lack of independence and his tendency to imitate the recognized leaders. he is too prone to buy certain books simply because another has them, and thus even rare collections are apt to fall into a tiresome routine. the collector who has a hobby and independence to ride it is admirable. let him addict himself to some particular subject or era or "ana," and try to exhaust it, and before he is conscious he will have accumulated a collection precious for its very singularity. it strikes me that the best example of this idea that i have ever heard of is the attempt, in which two collectors in this country are engaged, to acquire the first or at least one specimen of every one of the five hundred fifteenth century printers. if this should ever succeed, the great libraries of all the world would be eager for it, and the undertaking is sufficiently arduous to last a lifetime. sometimes out of this fault, sometimes independently of it, arises the fault by which book collecting degenerates into mere rivalry--the vulgar desire of display and ambition for a larger or rarer or costlier accumulation than one's neighbor has. the determination not to be outdone does not lend dignity or worth to the pursuit which would otherwise be commendable. during the late civil war in this country the chaplain of a regiment informed his colonel, who was not a godly person, that there was a hopeful revival of religion going on in a neighboring and rival regiment, and that forty men had been converted and baptized. "dashed if i will submit to that," said the swearing colonel: "adjutant, detail fifty men for baptism instantly!" so mr. roe, hearing that mr. doe has acquired a caxton or other rarity of a certain height, and absolutely flawless except that the corners of the last leaf have been skillfully mended and that six leaves are slightly foxed, cannot rest night or day for envy, but is like the troubled sea until he can find a copy a sixteenth of an inch taller, the corners of whose leaves are in their pristine integrity, and over whose brilliant surface the smudge of the fox has not been cast, and then how high is his exaltation! not that he cares anything for the book intrinsically, but he glories in having beaten doe. now if any speaks to him of doe's remarkable copy, he can draw out his own and create a surprise in the bosom of doe's adherent. the laurels of miltiades no longer deprive him of rest. he has overcome in this trivial and childish strife concerning size and condition, and he holds the champion's belt for the present. he not only feels big himself but he has succeeded in making doe feel small, which is still better. i don't know whether there will be any book-collecting in mr. bellamy's utopia, but if there is, it will not be disfigured by such meanness, but collectors will go about striving to induce others to accept their superior copies and everything will be as lovely as in heine's heaven, where geese fly around ready cooked, and if one treads on your corn it conveys a sensation of exquisite delight. it has been several times remarked by moralists that human nature is selfish. one of course does not expect another to relinquish to him his place in a "queue" at a box-office or his turn at a barber's shop, but in the noble and elegant pursuit of book-collecting it would be well to emulate the politeness of the french at fontenoy, and hat in hand offer our antagonist the first shot. but i believe the only place where the book-worm ever does that is the auction room. i no sooner come into the library, but i bolt the door to me, excluding lust, ambition, avarice, and all such vices, whose nurse is idleness, the mother of ignorance, and melancholy herself, and in the very lap of eternity, among so many divine souls, i take my seat with so lofty a spirit and sweet content, that i pity all our great ones and rich men that know not this happiness. --heinsius. the modern book-worm is not the simple and absent-minded creature who went by this name a century ago or more. he is no mere antiquarian, dryasdust or dominie sampson, but he is a sharp merchant, or a relentless broker, or a professional railroad wrecker, or a keen lawyer, or a busy physician, or a great manufacturer--a wide awake man of affairs, quite devoid of the conventional innocency and credulity which formerly made the name of book-worm suggestive of a necessity for a guardian or a committee in lunacy. no longer does he inquire, as becatello inquired of alphonso, king of naples, which had done the better--poggius, who sold a livy, fairly writ in his own hand, to buy a country home near florence, or he, who to buy a livy had sold a piece of land? no longer is the scale turned in the negotiation of a treaty between princes by the weight of a rare book, as when cosimo dei medici persuaded king alphonso of naples to a peace by sending him a codex of livy. no longer does the book-worm sit in his modest book-room, absorbed in his adored volumes, heedless of the waning lamp and the setting star, of hunger and thirst, unmindful of the scent of the clover wafted in at the window, deaf to the hum of the bees and the low of the kine, blind to the glow of sunsets and the soft contour of the blue hills, and the billowy swaying of the wheat field before the gentle breath of the south. no longer can it be said that the book-worm does not care for nature. i feel no need of nature's flowers-- of flowers of rhetoric i have store; i do not miss the balmy showers-- when books are dry i o'er them pore. why should i sit upon a stile and cause my aged bones to ache, when i can all the hours beguile with any style that i would take? why should i haunt a purling stream, or fish in miasmatic brook? o'er euclid's angles i can dream, and recreation find in hook. why should i jolt upon a horse and after wretched vermin roam, when i can choose an easier course with fox and hare and hunt at home? why should i scratch my precious skin by crawling through a hawthorne hedge, when hawthorne, raking up my sin, stands tempting on the nearest ledge? no need that i should take the trouble to go abroad to walk or ride, for i can sit at home and double quite up with pain from akenside. the modern book-worm deals in sums of six figures; he keeps an agent "on the other side;" he cables his demands and his decisions; his name flutters the dovecotes in the auction-room; to him is proffered the first chance at a rarity worth a king's ransom; too busy to potter in person with such a trifle as the purchase of a mazarine bible, he hires others to do the hunting and he merely receives the game; the tiger skin and the elephant's tusk are laid at his feet to order, but he misses all the joy and ardor of the hunt. how different is all this from sir thomas urquhart's account of his own library, of which he says: "there were not three works therein which were not of mine own purchase, and all of them together, in the order wherein i had ranked them, compiled like to a complete nosegay of flowers, which in my travels i had gathered out of the gardens of sixteen several kingdoms." another fault of the book-worm is the affectation of collecting books on subjects in which he takes no practical interest, simply because it is the fashion or the books are intrinsically beautiful. many a man has a fine collection on angling, for example, who hardly knows how to put a worm on a hook, much less attach a fly. i fear i am one of these hypocritical creatures, for this is how i go a-fishing. tis sweet to sit in shady nook, or wade in rapid crystal brook, impervious in rubber boots, and wary of the slippery roots, to snare the swift evasive trout or eke the sauntering horn-pout; or in the cold canadian river to see the glorious salmon quiver, and them with tempting hook inveigle, fit viand for a table regal; or after an exciting bout to snatch the pike with sharpened snout; or with some patient ass to row to troll for bass with motion slow. oh! joy supreme when they appear splashing above the water clear, and drawn reluctantly to land lie gasping on the yellow sand! but sweeter far to read the books that treat of flies and worms and hooks, from pickering's monumental page, (late rivalled by the rare dean sage), and major's elder issues neat, to burnand's funny "incompleat." i love their figures quaint and queer, which on the inviting page appear, from those of good dame juliana, who lifts a fish and cries hosanna, to those of stothard, graceful quaker, of fishy art supremest maker, whose fisherman, so dry and neat, would never soil a parlor seat. i love them all, the books on angling, and far from cares and business jangling, ensconced in cosy chimney-corner, like the traditional jack horner, i read from walton down to lang, and hum that song the milkmaid sang. i get not tired nor wet nor cross, nor suffer monetary loss-- if fish are shy and will not bite, and shun the snare laid in their sight-- in order home at night to bring a fraudulent, deceitful string, and thus escape the merry jeers of heartless piscatory peers; nor have to listen to the lying of fishermen while fish are frying, who boast of draughts miraculous which prove too large a draught on us. i spare the rod, and rods don't break; nor fish in sight the hook forsake; my lines ne'er snap like corset laces; my lines are fallen in pleasant places. and so in sage experience ripe, my fishery is but a type. xv. poverty as a means of enjoyment in collecting. poor collectors are not only not at a disadvantage in enjoyment, but they have a positive advantage over affluent rivals. if i were rich, probably i should not throw my money away just to experience this superiority, but it nevertheless exists. i do not envy, but i commiserate my brother collector who has plenty of money. he who only has to draw his check to obtain his desire fails to reach the keenest bliss of the pursuit. if diamonds were as common as cobble stones there would be no delight in picking them up. to constitute a bibliomaniac in the true sense, the love of books must combine with a certain limitation of means for the gratification of the appetite. the consciousness of some extravagance must be always present in his mind; there must be a sense of sacrifice in the attainment; in a rich man the disease cannot exist; he cannot enter the kingdom of the bibliomaniac's heaven. there is the same difference of sensation between the acquirement of books by a wealthy man and by him of slender purse, that there is between the taking of fish in a net and the successful result of a long angling pursuit after one especially fat and evasive trout. when a prince kills his preserved game, with keepers to raise it for him and to hand him guns ready loaded, so that all he has to do is to squint and pull the trigger, this is not hunting; it is mere vulgar butchery. what knows he of the joys of the tramper in the forest, who stalks the deer, or scares up smaller game, singly, and has to work hard for his bag? we read in dibdin's sumptuous pages of the celebrated contest between the duke of devonshire and the marquis of blandford for the possession of the valdarfar decameron; we read with admiration, but we also read of the immortal battle of elia with the little squab-keeper of the old book-stall in ninety-four alley, over the ownership of a ragged duodecimo for a sixpence; we read with affection. so we read leigh hunt's confession that when he "cut open a new catalogue of old books, and put crosses against dozens of volumes in the list, out of the pure imagination of buying them, the possibility being out of the question." poverty hath her victories no less renowned than wealth. to haunt the book-stores, there to see a long-desired work in luxurious and tempting style, reluctantly to abandon it for the present on account of the price; to go home and dream about it, to wonder, for a year, and perchance longer, whether it will ever again greet your eyes; to conjecture what act of desperation you might in heat of passion commit toward some more affluent man in whose possession you should thereafter find it; to see it turn up again in another book-shop, its charms slightly faded, but yet mellowed by age, like those of your first love, met in later life--with this difference, however, that whereas you crave those of the book more than ever, you are generally quite satisfied with yourself for not having, through the greenness of youth, yielded untimely to those of the lady; to ask with assumed indifference the price, and learn with ill-dissembled joy that it is now within your means; to say you'll take it; to place it beneath your arm, and pay for it (or more generally order it "charged"); to go forth from that room with feelings akin to those of ulysses when he brought away the palladium from troy; to keep a watchful eye on the parcel in the railway coach on your way home, or to gloat over the treasures of its pages, and wonder if the other passengers have any suspicion of your good fortune; and finally to place the volume on your shelf, and thenceforth to call it your own--this is indeed a pleasure denied to the affluent, so keen as to be akin to pain, and only marred by the palling which always follows possession and the presentation of your book-seller's account three months afterwards. xvi. the arrangement of books. there was a time when i loved to see my books arranged with a view to uniformity of height and harmony of color without respect to subjects. that time i regard as my vealy period. that was the time when we admired "somnambula," and when the housewife used to have all the pictures hung on the same level, and to buy vases in pairs exactly alike and put them on either side of the parlor clock, which was generally surmounted by a prancing saracen or a weaving penelope. granting that a collection is not extensive enough to demand a strict arrangement by subjects, i like to see a little artistic confusion--high and low together here and there, like a democratic community; now and then some giants laid down on their sides to rest; the shelves not uniformly filled out as if the owner never expected to buy any more, and alongside a dainty angler a book in red or blue cloth with a white label--just as childred in velvet and furs sit next a newsboy, or a little girl in calico with a pigtail at sunday school, or as beggars and princes kneel side by side on the cathedral pavement. it is good to have these "swell" books rub up against the commoners, which though not so elegant are frequently a great deal brighter. at a country funeral i once heard the undertaker say to the bearers, "size yourselves off." there is no necessity or artistic gain in such a ceremony in a library, and a departure from stiff uniformity is quite agreeable. then i do not care to have the book cases all of the same height, nor even of the same kind of wood, nor to have them all "dwarfs," with bric-a-brac on the top. i would rather have more books on top. in short, it is pleasant to have the collection remind one in a way of topsy--not that it was "born," but "growed" and is expected to grow more. there is a modern notion of considering a library as a room rather than as a collection of books, and of making the front drawing-room the library, which is heretical in the eyes of a true book-worm. this is probably an invention of the women of the house to prevent any additions to the books without their knowledge, and to discourage book-buying. we have surrendered too much to our wives in this; they demand book cases as furniture and to serve as shelves, without any regard to the interior contents or whether there are any, except for the color of the bindings and the regularity of the rows. all of us have thus seen "libraries" without books worthy the name, and book-cases sometimes with exquisite silk curtains, carefully and closely drawn, arousing the suspicion that there were no books behind them. my ideal library is a room given up to books, all by itself, at the top or in the rear of the house, where "company" cannot break through and say to me, "i know you are a great man to buy books--have you seen that beautiful limited holiday edition of ben hur, with illustrations?" xvii. enemies of books. mr. blades regards as "enemies of books" fire, water, gas, heat, dust and neglect, ignorance and bigotry, the worm, beetles, bugs and rats, book-binders, collectors, servants and children. he does not include women, borrowers, or thieves. perhaps he considers them rather as enemies of the book-owners. the worm is not always to be considered an enemy to authors, although he may be to books. james payn, in speaking of the recent discovery, in the british museum, of a copy on papyrus of the humorous poems of the obscure greek poet, herodles, says: "the humorous poems of herodles possess, however, the immense advantage of being 'seriously mutilated by worms'; wherever therefore an hiatus occurs, the charitable and cultured mind will be enabled to conclude that (as in the case of a second descent upon a ball supper) the 'best things' have been already devoured." it was doubtless to guard against thieves that the ancient books were chained up in the monasteries, but the practice was effectual also against borrowers. de bury, in his "philobiblon" has a chapter entitled "a provident arrangement by which his books may be lent to strangers," in which the utmost leniency is to lend duplicate books upon ample security. not to adopt the harsh judgment of an ancient author, who says, "to lend a book is to lose it, and borrowing but a hypocritical pretense for stealing," we may conclude, in a word, that to lend a book is like the presidency of the united states, to be neither desired nor refused. collectors are not so much exposed to the ravages of thieves as book-sellers are, and a book-thief ought to be regarded with leniency for his good taste and his reliance on the existence of culture in others. after all, it is one's own fault if he lends a book. one should as soon think of lending one of his children, unless he has duplicate or triplicate daughters. it would be difficult to foretell what would happen to a man who should propose to borrow a rare book. perhaps death by freezing would be the safest prediction. although grolier stamped "et amicorum" on his books, that did not mean that he would lend them, but only that his friends were free of them at his house. it is amusing to note, in mr. castle's monograph on book-plates, how many of them indicate a stern purpose not to lend books. mr. gosse regards book-plates as a precaution not only against thieves, but against borrowers. he observes of the man who does not adopt a book-plate: "such a man is liable to great temptations. he is brought face to face with that enemy of his species, the borrower, and does not speak with him in the gate. if he had a book-plate he would say, 'oh! certainly i will lend you this volume, if it has not my book-plate in it; of course one makes it a rule never to lend a book that has.' he would say this and feign to look inside the volume, knowing right well that this safeguard against the borrower is there already." one may make a gift of a book to a friend, but there is as much difference between giving a book and lending one as there is between indorsing a note and giving the money. i have considerable respect for and sympathy with a good honest book-thief. he holds out no false hopes and makes no false pretences. but the borrower who does not return adds hypocrisy and false pretences to other crime. he ought to be committed to the state prison for life, and put at keeping the books of the institution. in a buried temple in cnidos, in , mr. newton found rolls of lead hung up, on which were inscribed spells devoting enemies to the infernal gods for sundry specified offenses, among which was the failure to return a borrowed garment. on which agnes repplier says: "would that it were given to me now to inscribe, and by inscribing doom, all those who have borrowed and failed to return our books; would that by scribbling some strong language on a piece of lead we could avenge the lamentable gaps on our shelves, and send the ghosts of the wrong-doers howling dismally into the eternal shades of tartarus." i have spoken of a certain amount of sympathy as due from a magnanimous book-owner toward a pilferer of such wares. this is always on the condition that he steals to add to his own hoard and not for mere pecuniary gain. the following is suggested as a christian mode of dealing with the book-thief. ah, gentle thief! i marked the absent-minded air with which you tucked away my rare book in your pocket. 'twas past belief-- i saw you near the open case, but yours was such an honest face i did not lock it. i knew you lacked that one to make your set complete, and when that book you chanced to meet you recognized it. and when attacked by rage of bibliophilic greed, you prigged that small quantin ovide, although i prized it. i will not sue, nor bring your family to shame by giving up your honored name to heartless prattle. i'll visit you, and under your unwary eyes secrete and carry off the prize, my ravished chattel. it greatly rejoices me to observe that mr. blades does not include tobacco among the enemies of books. in one sense tobacco may be ranked as a book-enemy, for self-denial in this regard may furnish a man with a good library in a few years. i have known a very pretty collection made out of the ordinary smoke-offerings of twenty years. undoubtedly there are libraries so fine that smoking in them would be discountenanced, but mine is not impervious to the pipe or cigar, and i entertain the pleasing fancy that tobacco-smoke is good for books, disinfects them, and keeps them free from the destroying worm. as i do not myself smoke, i like to see my friends taking their ease in my book-room, with the "smoke of their torment ascending" above my modest volumes. i know how they feel, without incurring the expense, and so to them i indite and dedicate the smoke traveller. when i puff my cigarette, straight i see a spanish girl, mantilla, fan, coquettish curl, languid airs and dimpled face, calculating fatal grace; hear a twittering serenade under lofty balcony played; queen at bull-fight, naught she cares what her agile lover dares; she can love and quick forget. let me but my meerschaum light, i behold a bearded man, built upon capacious plan, sabre-slashed in war or duel, gruff of aspect but not cruel, metaphysically muddled, with strong beer a little fuddled, slow in love and deep in books, more sentimental than he looks, swears new friendships every night. let me my chibouk enkindle,-- in a tent i'm quick set down with a bedouin lean and brown, plotting gain of merchandise, or perchance of robber prize; clumsy camel load upheaving, woman deftly carpet weaving; meal of dates and bread and salt, while in azure heavenly vault throbbing stars begin to dwindle. glowing coal in clay dudheen carries me to sweet killarney, full of hypocritic blarney; huts with babies, pigs and hens mixed together; bogs and fens; shillalahs, praties, usquebaugh, tenants defying hated law, fair blue eyes with lashes black, eyes black and blue from cudgel-thwack,-- so fair, so foul, is erin green. my nargileh once inflamed, quick appears a turk with turban, girt with guards in palace urban, or in house by summer sea slave-girls dancing languidly; bow-string, sack and bastinado, black boats darting in the shadow; let things happen as they please, whether well or ill at ease, fate alone is blessed or blamed. with my ancient calumet i can raise a wigwam's smoke, and the copper tribe invoke,-- scalps and wampum, bows and knives, slender maidens, greasy wives, papoose hanging on a tree, chieftains squatting silently, feathers, beads and hideous paint, medicine-man and wooden saint,-- forest-framed the vision set. my cigar breeds many forms-- planter of the rich havana, mopping brow with sheer bandanna; russian prince in fur arrayed; paris fop on dress parade; london swell just after dinner; wall street broker--gambling sinner; delver in nevada mine; scotch laird bawling "auld lang syne;" thus raleigh's weed my fancy warms. life's review in smoke goes past. fickle fortune, stubborn fate, right discovered all too late, beings loved and gone before, beings loved but friends no more, self-reproach and futile sighs, vanity in birth that dies, longing, heart-break, adoration,-- nothing sure in expectation save ash-receiver at the last. in the early history of new england, when the town of deerfield was burned by the indians, captain dunstan, who was the father of a large family, deeming discretion the better part of valor, made up his mind to run for it and to take one child (as a sample, probably), that being all he could safely carry on his horse. but on looking about him, he could not determine which child to take, and so observing to his wife, "all or none," he set her and the baby on the horse, and brought up the rear on foot with his gun, and fended off the redskins and brought the whole family into safety. such is the tale, and in the old primer there was a picture of the scene--although i do not understand that it was taken from the life, and the story reflects small credit on the character of the aborigines for enterprise. i have often conjectured which of my books i would save in case of fire in my library, and whether i should care to rescue any if i could not bring off all. perhaps the problem would work itself out as follows: the fire in the library. twas just before midnight a smart conflagration broke out in my dwelling and threatened my books; confounded and dazed with a great consternation i gazed at my treasures with pitiful looks. "oh! which shall i rescue?" i cried in deep feeling; i wished i were armed like briareus of yore, while sharper and sharper the flames kept revealing the sight of my bibliographical store. "my lamb may remain to be thoroughly roasted, my crabbe to be broiled and my bacon to fry, my browning accustomed to being well toasted, and waterman taylor rejoicing to dry." at hazard i grasped at the rest of my treasure, and crammed all pockets with dainty eighteens; i packed up a pillow case, heaping good measure, and turned me away from the saddest of scenes. but slowly departing, my face growing sadder, at leaving old favorites behind me so far, a feminine voice from the foot of the ladder cried, "bring down my cook-book and harper's bazar!" it has been hereinbefore intimated that women may be classed among the enemies of books. there is at least one time of the year when every book-worm thinks so, and that is the dread period of house-cleaning--sometimes in the spring, sometimes in the autumn, and sometimes, in the case of excessively finical housewives, in both. that is the time looked forward to by him with apprehension and looked back upon with horror, because the poor fellow knows what comes of cleaning the library. with traitorous kiss remarked my spouse, "remain down town to lunch to-day, for we are busy cleaning house, and you would be in minnie's way." when i came home that fateful night, i found within my sacred room the wretched maid had wreaked her spite with mop and pail and witch's broom. the books were there, but oh how changed! they startled me with rare surprises, for they had all been rearranged, and less by subjects than by sizes. some volumes numbered right to left, and some were standing on their heads, and some were of their mates bereft, and some behind for refuge fled. the women brave attempts had made at placing cognate books together;-- they looked like strangers close arrayed under a porch in stormy weather. she watched my face--that spouse of mine-- some approbation there to glean, but seeing i did not incline to praise, remarked, "i've got it clean." and so she had--and also wrong; she little knew--she was but thirty-- i entertained a preference strong to have it right, though ne'er so dirty. that wife of mine has much good sense, to chide her would have been inhuman, and it would be a great expense to graft the book-sense on a woman. such are my reflections when i consider a fire in my own little library. but when i regard the great and growing mass of books with which the earth groans, and reflect how few of them are necessary or original, and how little the greater part of them would be missed, i sometimes am led to believe that a general conflagration of them might in the long run be a blessing to mankind, by the stimulation of thought and the deliverance of authors from the influence of tradition and the habit of imitation. when i am in this mood i incline to think that much is ode to omar. omar, who burned (or did not burn) the alexandrian tomes, i would erect to thee an urn beneath sophia's domes. so many books i can't endure-- the dull and commonplace, the dirty, trifling and obscure, the realistic race. would that thy exemplary torch could bravely blaze again, and many manufactories scorch of book-inditing men. the poets who write "dialect," maudlin and coarse by turns, most ardently do i expect thou'lt wither up with burns. all the erratic, yawping class condemn with judgment stern, walt whitman's awful "leaves of grass" with elegant swinburne. of commentators make a point, the carping, blind, and dry; rend the "baconians" joint by joint, and throw them on to fry. especially i'd have thee choke law libraries in sheep with fire derived from ancient coke, and sink in ashes deep. destroy the sheep--don't save my own-- i weary of the cram, the misplaced diligence i've shown-- but kindly spare my lamb. fear not to sprinkle on the pyre the woes of "esther waters"; they'll only make the flame soar higher, and warn eve's other daughters. but 'ware of howells and of james, of trollope and his rout; they'd dampen down the fiercest flames and put your fire out. xviii. library companions. as a rule i do not care for any constant human companion in my library, but i do not object to a cat or a small dog. that picture of montaigne, drawn by himself, amusing his cat with a garter, or that other one of doctor johnson feeding oysters to his cat hodge, is a very pleasing one. in my library hangs durer's picture of st. jerome in his cell, busy with his writing, and a dog and a lion quietly dozing together in the foreground. as i am no saint i have never been able to keep a lion in my library for any great length of time, but i have maintained a dog there. lamb even contended that his books were the better for being dog's-eared, but i do not go so far as that. nor do i pretend that his presence will prevent the books from becoming foxed. here is a portrait of my dog. he is a trifling, homely beast, of no use, or the very least; to shake imaginary rat or bark for hours at china cat; to lie at head of stairs and start, like animated, woolly dart, upon a non-existent foe; or on hind legs like monkey go, to beg for sugar or for bone; never content to be alone; to bask for hours in the sun. rolled up till head and tail are one; usurping all the softest places and keeping them with doggish graces; to sneak between the housemaid's feet and scour unnoticed on the street; wag indefatigable tail; cajole with piteous human wail; to dance with dainty dandy air when nicely parted is his hair, and look most ancient and dejected when it has been too long neglected; to sleep upon my book-den rug and dream of battle with a pug; to growl with counterfeited rabies; to be more trouble than twin babies;-- these are the qualities and tricks that in my heart his image fix; and so in cursory, doggerel rhyme i celebrate him in his time, nor wait his virtues to rehearse in cold obituary verse. there is one other speaking companion that i would tolerate in my library, and that is a clock. i have a number of clocks in mine, and if it were not for their unanimous and warning voice i might forget to go to bed. perhaps my reader would like to hear an account of my clocks. five clocks adorn my domicile and give me occupation, for moments else inane i fill with their due regulation. four of these clocks, on each lord's day, as regular as preaching, i wind and set, so that they may the flight of time be teaching. my grandfather's old clock is chief, with foolish moon-faced dial; procrastination is a thief it always brings to trial. its height is as the tallest men, its pendulum beats slow, and when its awful bell booms ten, young men get up and go. another clock is bronze and gilt, penelope sits on it, and in her fingers holds a quilt-- how strange 'tis not a bonnet! memorial of those weary years when she the web unravelled, while ithacus choked down his fears and slow from ilium travelled. ceres upon the third, with spray of grain, in classic gown, seems sadly to recall the day proserpine sank down, with scarcely time to say good-bye, unto the world of dis; and keeps account, with many a sigh, of harvest time in this. another clock is rococo, of louis sept or seize, with many a dreadful furbelow an artist's hair to raise, suggestions of a giddy court, with fan and boufflant bustle, when silken trains made gallant sport and o'er the floor did rustle. the fourth was brought, in foolish trust from alpland far away, a baby clock, and so it must be tended every day. importunate and trivial thing! thou katydid of clocks! defying all my skill to bring right time from out thy box. with works of wood and face of brass on which queer cherubs play, the tedious hours thou well dost pass, and none thy chirp gainsay. among the silent companions in my study are the effigies of the four greatest geniuses of modern times in the realms of literature, art, music and war--a print of shakespeare; one of michael angelo's corrugated face with its broken nose; a bust of beethoven, resembling a pouting lion; and a print of napoleon at st. helena, representing him dressed in a white duck suit, with a broad-brimmed straw hat, and sitting looking seaward, with those unfathomable eyes, a newspaper lying in his lap. unhappy faces all except the first--his cheerful, probably because he has effected an arrangement with an otherwise idle person, named bacon, to do all his work for him. but there is another portrait, at which i look oftener, the original of which probably takes more interest in me, but is unknown to every visitor to my study. i myself have not seen her in half a century. i call it simply a portrait. a gentle face is ever in my room, with features fine and melancholy eyes, though young, a little past life's freshest bloom, and always with air of sad surmise. a great white cap almost conceals her hair, a collar broad falls o'er her shoulders slender; the fashion of a bygone age an air of quaintness to her simple garb doth render. those hazel eyes pursue me as i move and seem to watch my busy toiling pen; they hold me with an anxious yearning love, as if she dwelt upon the earth again. my mother's portrait! fifty years ago, when i was but a heedless happy boy, the influence of her being ceased to flow, and she laid down life's burden and its joy. and now as i sit pondering o'er my books, so vainly seeking a receding rest, i read the wonder in her steadfast looks: "is this my son who lay upon my breast?" and when for me there is an end of time, and this unsatisfying work is done, if i shall meet thee in thy peaceful clime, young mother, wilt thou know thy gray-haired son? there is one other work of art which adorns my library--a medallion by a dear friend of mine, an eminent sculptor, the story of which i will put into his mouth. he calls the face my schoolmate. the snows have settled on my head but not upon my heart, and incidents of years long fled from out my memory start. my hand is cunning to contrive the shapes my brain invents, and keep in marble forms alive that which my soul contents; and i have wife, and children tall, grandchildren cluster near, and sweet the applause of men doth fall on my undeafened ear. but still my mind will backward turn for half a century, and without reasoning will yearn for sight or news of thee, thou playmate of my boyhood days, when life was all aglow, when the sweetest thing was thy girlish praise, as i drew thee o'er the snow to the old red school-house by the road, where we learned to spell and read, when thou wert all my fairy load and i was thy prancing steed. oh! thou wert simple then and fair. artless and unconstrained, with quaintly knotted auburn hair from which the wind refrained, and from thine earnest steady eyes shone out a nature pure, formed by kind heaven, a man's best prize, to love and to endure. oh! art thou still in life and time, or hast thou gone before? and hath thy lot been like to mine, or pinched and bare and sore? and didst thou marry, or art thou still of the spinster tribe? perchance thou art a widow now, steeled against second bribe? do grandsons round thy hearthstone play, or dost thou end thy race? and could that auburn hair grow gray, and wrinkles line thy face? i cannot make thee old and plain-- i would not if i could-- and i recall thee without stain, simply and sweetly good; and i have carved thy pretty head and hung it on my wall, and to all men let it be said, i like it best of all; for on a far-off snowy road, before i had learned to read, thou wert all my fairy load and i was thy prancing steed! i have reserved my queerest library companion till the last. it is not a book, although it is good for nothing but to read. it is not an autograph, although it is simply the name of an individual. it is my office sign which i have cherished, as a memento of busier days. some singular reflections are roused when i gaze at my shingle. my shingle is battered and old, no longer deciphered with ease, so i've taken it in from the cold, and fastened it up on a frieze. a long generation ago, with feelings of singular pride i regarded its glittering show, and pointed it out to my bride. companions of youth have grown few, its loves and aversions are faint; no spirit to make friends anew-- an old enemy seems like a saint. my clients have paid the last fee for passage in charon's sad boat, imposing no duty on me save to utter this querelous note; and still as i toil in life's mills, in loneliness growing profound, to attend on the proof of their wills and swear that their wits were quite sound! so i work with the scissors and pen, and to show of old courage a spark, i must utter a jest now and then, like whistling of boys in the dark. i tack my old friend on the wall, so that infantile grandson of mine may not think, if my life he recall, that i died without making a sign. when at court on the great judgment day with penitent suitors i mingle, may my guilt be washed cleanly away, like that on my faded old shingle! of course my chief occupation in my library is reading and writing. to be sure, i do a good deal of thinking there. but there is another occupation which i practice to a great extent, which does not involve reading or writing at all, nor thinking to any considerable degree. that is playing solitaire. i play only one kind of this and that i have played for many years. it requires two packs of cards, and requires building on the aces and kings, and so i have them tacked down on a lap-board to save picking out and laying down every time. this particular game is called "st. elba," probably because napoleon did not play it, and it can be "won" once in about sixty trials. i do not care for card-playing with others, but i have certain reasons for liking solitaire. i like to play cards with a man of sense, and allow him to play with me, and so it has grown a delight intense to play solitaire on my knee. i love the quaint form of the sceptered king, the simplicity of the ace, the stolid knave like a wooden thing, and her majesty's smirking face. diamonds, aces, and clubs and spades-- their garb of respectable black a moiety brilliant of red invades, as they mingle in motley pack. independent of anyone's signal or leave, relieved from the bluffing of poker, i've no apprehension of ace up a sleeve, and fear no superfluous joker. i build up and down; all the cards i hold, and the game is always fair, for i am honest, and so is my old companion at solitaire. let kings condescend to the lower grades, queens glitter with diamonds rare, knaves flourish their clubs, and peasants wield spades, but give me my solitaire. xix. the friendship of books. to many peaceful men of the legal robe the companionship of books is inexpressibly dear. what a privilege it is to summon the greatest and most charming spirits of the past from their graves, and find them always willing to talk to us! how delightful to go to our well-known book-shelves, lay hands on our favorite authors--even in the dark, so well do we know them--take any volume, open it at any page, and in a few minutes lose all sense and remembrance of the real world, with its strife, its bitterness, its disappointments, its hollowness, its unfaithfulness, its selfishness, in the pictures of an ideal world! the real world, do we say? which is the real world, that of history or that of fiction? in this age of historic doubt and iconoclasm, are not the heroes of our favorite romances much more real than those of history? captain ed'ard cuttle, mariner, is much more real to us than captain joseph cook; cooper's two admirals than the great nelson; leather-stocking than the yellow-haired custer; henry esmond than any of the pretenders; hester prynne and becky sharp than catherine of russia or aspasia or lucrezia; sidney carton than philip sidney. even the kings and heroes who have lived in history live more vividly for us in romance. we know the crooked richard and the crafty louis xi. most familiarly, if not most accurately, through shakespeare and scott; and where in history do we get so haunting a picture of the great napoleon and waterloo as in victor hugo's wondrous but inaccurate chapter? happy is the man who has for his associates david, solomon, job, paul, and john, in spite of the assaults of modern criticism upon the scriptures! no one can shake our faith in don quixote, although the accounts of the knight "without fear and without reproach" are so short and vague. there is no doubt about the travels of christian, although those of stanley may be questioned. the vicar of wakefield is a much more actual personage than peter who preached the crusades. sir roger de coverley and his squire life are much more probable to us than sir william temple in his gardens. there is no character in romance who has not or might not have lived, but we are thrown into grave doubts of the saintly washington and the devilish napoleon depicted three quarters of a century ago. we cast history aside in scepticism and disgust; we cling to romance with faith and delight. "the things that are seen are temporal; the things that are not seen are eternal." so let the writer hereof sing a song in praise of my friends the books. friends of my youth and of my age within my chamber wait, until i fondly turn the page and prove them wise and great. at me they do not rudely glare with eye that luster lacks, but knowing how i hate a stare, politely turn their backs. they never split my head with din, nor snuffle through their noses, nor admiration seek to win by inartistic poses. if i should chance to fall asleep, they do not scowl or snap, but prudently their counsel keep till i have had my nap. and if i choose to rout them out unseasonably at night, they do not chafe nor curse nor pout, but rise all clothed and bright. they ne'er intrude with silly say, they never scold nor worry; they ne'er suspect and ne'er betray, they're never in a hurry. anacreon never gets quite full, nor horace too flirtatious; swift makes due fun of johnny bull, and addison is gracious. saint-simon and grammont rehearse their tales of court with glee; for all their scandal i'm no worse,-- they never peach on me. for what i owe montaigne, no dread to meet him on the morrow; and better still, it must be said, he never wants to borrow. paul never asks, though sure to preach, why i don't come to church; though dr. johnson strives to teach, i do not fear his birch. my dickens never is away whene'er i choose to call; i need not wait for thackeray in chill palatial hall. i help to bring amelia to, who always is a-fainting; i love the oxford graduate who explains great turner's painting. my memory is full of graves of friends in days gone by; but time these sweet companions saves,-- these friends who never die! so here endeth "in the track of the book-worm." printed by me, elbert hubbard, at the roycroft shop in east aurora, n. y., u. s. a., and completed this twenty-sixth day of june, mdcccxcvii. chats in the book-room of this book only one hundred and fifty copies were privately printed for the author, on arnold's unbleached handmade paper, in the month of january ---of which this is _no. _ [illustration: h.n. pym] [illustration: _walker and boutall ph. fc._] chats in the book-room by horace n. pym editor of caroline fox's journals; a mother's memoir; a tour round my book-shelves, etc. etc. _with portrait by molly evans, and two photogravures of the book-room_ "if any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories, be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is one of your familiar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict him."--sir matthew hale. privately printed for the author in the year by ballantyne, hanson & co. _to_ _my dearly loved son_ _julian tindale pym_ _i dedicate these "chats in the book-room," to which i ask him to extend that noble "patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill," which gilds and elevates his life._ h. n. p. christmas, foxwold chase, . table of contents "_youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers, sits by the raked-up ashes of the past, spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers, that warm its creeping life-blood till the last._" o. w. holmes. page introduction chat i. on richard corney grain--his home qualities--his love for children--his benevolence--his power of pathos--his letter on a holiday chat ii. on a portrait of general wolfe--on the use of portraits in country-houses--on a sale at christie's--a curious story about a curious sale chat iii. on holiday trips--across the atlantic--some humours of the voyage--some stories told in the gun-room chat iv. on a private visit to newgate prison--in execution yard--some anecdotes of the condemned chat v. on book-binding--some worthy members of the craft--on over-work and the modern race for wealth--charles dickens on work--a song of the city--anecdote of mr. anstey guthrie chat vi. on an uninvited guest--her illness--her convalescence--her recovery--her gratitude--on texts in bedrooms--a welcoming banner chat vii. on some minor poets--on _vers de société_--on praed, c. s. calverley, locker-lampson, and mr. a. dobson chat viii. on mr. punch and his founders--concerning portraits of jerrold, kenny meadows, and horace mayhew--on mr. sala as a painter--a letter from g. a. sala chat ix. on our schooldays--on bedford, past and present--on r. c. lehmann--a poem by him--a christmas greeting by h. e. luxmoore chat x. on john poole, the author of "paul pry"--his friendship with dickens--his letter to dickens detailing the french revolution of chat xi. on ethie castle--its artistic treasures--a letter from charles ii.--a true family ghost story chat xii. on cardinal manning--dramatic effect at his _academia_--on poets who are never read, or "hardly ever" chat xiii. on a true story, called "jane will return"--on hamilton's "parodies"--an unknown one, by the rev. james bolton chat xiv. on autographs--mr. james payn and his lay-sermons--mrs. charles fox of trebah--her friendship with hartley coleridge--a letter from him--a letter from john bright to caroline fox--mr. ruskin as a mineral collector--five unpublished letters from him chat xv. on mrs. lyne stephens--the story of her early life--thackeray's sketch of her--her art collections--a wonderful sale at christie's--her charities and friendships--her death--her funeral sermon--her portraits "_i come not here your morning hour to sadden, a limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,-- i, who have never deemed it sin to gladden this vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh._" --the iron gate. list of illustrations portrait _to face the title page_ the book-room (first view) _page_ the book-room (second view) " introduction. "_some of your griefs you have cured, and the sharpest you still have survived; but what torments of pain you endured, from evils that never arrived!_" a few years ago a little inconsequent volume was launched on partial acquaintance, telling of some ordinary books which line our friendly shelves, of some kindly friends who had read and chatted about them, some old stories they had told, and some happy memories they had awakened. when those acquaintances had read the little book, they asked, like oliver, for more. a rash request, because, unlike oliver, they get it in the shape of another "olla podrida" of book-chat, picture-gossip, and perchance a stray "chestnut." their good-nature must be invoked to receive it, like c. s. calverley's sojourners-- "who when they travel, if they find that they have left their pocket-compass, or murray, or thick boots behind, they raise no rumpus." chat no. . "_lie softly, leisure! doubtless you, with too serene a conscience drew your easy breath, and slumbered through the gravest issue; but we, to whom our age allows scarce space to wipe our weary brows, look down upon your narrow house, old friend, and miss you._" --austin dobson. since we made our last "tour round the book-shelves," death has removed one of the kindest friends, and most genial companions, of the book-room. in richard corney grain, foxwold has lost one of its pleasantest and most welcome guests, and it is doubtful, well as the public cared for and appreciated his genius, if it knew or suspected how generous a heart, and how wide a charity, moved beneath that massive frame. when rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon thing for dick grain to dedicate them to the solace and amusement of some hospital or children's home, where, with a small cottage piano, he would, moving from ward to ward, give the suffering patients an hour's freedom from their pain, and some happy laughs amid their misery. one day, after a series of short performances in the different parts of one of our large london hospitals, he was about to sing in the accident ward, when the secretary to the hospital gravely asked him "not to be too funny in this room, for fear he'd make the patients burst their bandages!" dick grain was never so happy, so natural, or so amusing as when, of his own motion, he was singing to a nursery full of children in a country house. those who knew him well were aware that, delightful as were all his humorous impersonations, he had a graver and more impressive side to his lovable and admirable character, and that he would sometimes, when sure he would be understood, sing a pathetic song, which made the tears flow as rapidly as in others the smiles had been evoked. who that heard it will forget his little french song, supposed to be sung by one of the first napoleon's old guard for bread in the streets. he sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice a song of victory, breaking off in the middle of a line full of the sound of battle to cough a hacking cough, and beg a sous for the love of god! subjoined is one of his friendly little notes, full of the quiet happy humour that made him so welcome a guest in every friend's house. hothfield place, ashford, kent. "my dear pym, i shall be proud to welcome you and mrs. pym on wednesday the th, but why st. george's hall? why not go at once to a play and not to an entertainment? plays at night. entertainments in the afternoon. besides, we are so empty in the evenings now, the new piece being four weeks overdue. anyhow, i hope to see you at weymouth street on nov. th, at any hour after my work, say . or . , and so on, every quarter of an hour. "i am dwelling in the halls of the great, waited on by powdered menials, who rather look down on me, i think, and hide my clothes, and lay things out i don't wish to put on, and button my collar on to my shirt, and my braces on to my----, and when i try to throw the braces over my shoulders i hit my head with the buckle, and get my collar turned upside down, and tear out the buttons in my endeavours to get it right; and they fill my bath so full, that the displacement caused by my unwieldy body sends quarts of water through the ceiling on to the drawing-room--the red drawing-room. piano covered with the choicest products of eastern towns. luckily the party is small, so we only occupy the dragon's blood room, so perhaps they won't notice it. but a truce to fooling till nov. .--yours sincerely, r. corney grain." _nov. , ._ he was one of the most gifted, warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism was all upon the surface, and was never unkind, the big heart beat true beneath. his premature death has eclipsed the honest gaiety of this nation--"he should have died hereafter." chat no. . "_sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife! to all the sensual world proclaim, one crowded hour of glorious life, is worth an age without a name._" --old mortality. a picture hangs at foxwold of supreme interest and beauty, being a portrait of general wolfe by gainsborough. its history is shortly this--painted in bath in , probably for miss lowther, to whom he was then engaged, and whose miniature he was wearing when death claimed him; it afterwards became the property of mr. gibbons, a picture collector, who lived in the regent's park in london, descending in due course to his son, whose widow eventually sold it to thomas woolner, the r.a. and sculptor; it was bought for foxwold from mrs. woolner in . the great master has most wonderfully rendered the hero's long, gaunt, sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full of coming sorrow and present ill-health. his cocked hat and red coat slashed with silver braid are brilliantly painted, whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued by a touch of powder. one especial interest that attends this picture in its present home is, that within two miles of foxwold he was born, and passed some youthful years in the picturesque little town of westerham, his birthplace, and that his short and wonderful career will always be especially connected with squerryes court, then the property of his friend george warde, and still in the possession of that family. until recently no adequate or satisfactory life of wolfe existed, but mr. a. g. bradley has now filled the gap with his beautiful and affecting monograph for the macmillan series of english men of action: a little book which should be read by every english boy who desires to know by what means this happy land is what it is. in country houses the best decoration is portraits, portraits, and always portraits. in the town by all means show fine landscape and sea-scape--heathery hills and blue seas--fisher folks and plough boys--but when from your windows the happy autumn fields and glowing woods are seen, let the eye returning to the homely walls be cheered with the answer of face to face, human interests and human features leading the memory into historic channels and memory's brightest corners. how pleasant it is in the room where, in the spirit, we now meet, to chat beneath the brilliant eyes of r. b. sheridan, limned by sir joshua, or to note with a smile the dignified importance of fuseli, painted by harlow, or to turn to the last portrait of sir joshua reynolds, painted by himself, and of which picture mr. ruskin once remarked, "how deaf he has drawn himself." of the fashion in particular painters' works, christie's rooms give a most instructive object-lesson. it is within the writer's memory when romneys could be bought for £ apiece, and now that they are fetching thousands, the wise will turn to some other master at present neglected, and gather for his store pictures quite as full of beauty and truth, and whose price will not cause his heirs to blaspheme. a constant watchful attendance at christie's is in itself a liberal education, and it seldom happens that those who know cannot during its pleasant season find "that grain of gold" which is often hidden away in a mass of mediocrity. and then those clever, courteous members of the great house are always ready to give the modest inquirer the full benefit of their vast knowledge, and, if necessary, will turn to their priceless records, and guide the timid, if appreciative, visitor into the right path of selection. what a delightful thing it is to be present at a field-day in king street. the early lunch at the club--the settling into a backed-chair at the exactly proper angle to the rostrum and the picture-stand. (the rostrum, by the way, was made by chippendale for the founder of the house.) at one o'clock the great mr. woods winds his way through the expectant throng, and is promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps of which are as promptly tucked in and the business and pleasure of the afternoon begins. mr. woods, dominating his audience "as some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm," gives a quick glance round the big room, now filled with well-known faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is often priceless. sir william agnew rubs shoulders with lord rosebery, and sir t. c. robinson whispers his doubts of a picture to a trustee of the national collection; old mr. vokins extols, if you care to listen, the old english water-colourists, to many of whom he was a good friend, and mr. george redford makes some notes of the best pictures for the press; but mr. woods' quiet incisive voice demands silence as lot is offered with little prefix, and soon finds a buyer at a moderate price. the catalogues, which read so pleasantly and convey so much within a little space, are models of clever composition, beginning with items of lesser interest and carefully leading up to the great attractions of the afternoon, which fall to the bid of thousands of guineas from some great picture-buyer, amidst the applause of the general crowd. a pure romney, a winsome gainsborough, a golden turner, or a corot full of mystery and beauty, will often evoke a round of hand-clapping when it appears upon the selling-easel, and a swift and sharp contest between two or three well-known connoisseurs will excite the audience like a horse-race, a fencing bout, or a stage drama. the history of christie's is yet to be written, notwithstanding mr. redford's admirable work on "art sales," and when it is written it should be one of the most fascinating histories of the nineteenth century; but where is the horace walpole to indite such a work? and who possesses the necessary materials? one curious little history i can tell concerning a sale in recent years of the z---- collection of pictures and _objets d'art_, which will, to those who know it not, prove "a strange story." a former owner, distinguished by his social qualities and position, in a fit of passion unfortunately killed his footman. the wretched victim had no friends, and was therefore not missed, and the only person, besides his slayer, aware of his death, and how it was caused, was the butler. the crime was therefore successfully concealed, and no inquiries made. but after a little time the butler began to use his knowledge for his own personal purposes. putting the pressure of the blackmailer upon his unhappy master, he began to make him sing, by receiving as the price of his silence, first a fine picture or two, then some rare china, followed by art furniture, busts, more pictures, and more china, until he had well-nigh stripped the house. still, like the daughter of the horse-leech, crying, "give, give!" he made his nominal master assign to him the entire estates, reserving only to himself a life interest, which, in his miserable state of bondage, did not last long. the chief butler on his master's death took his name and possessions, ousting the rightful heirs; and after enjoying a wicked, but not uncommon, prosperity with his stolen goods for some years, he also died in the odour of sanctity, and went to his own place. his successors, hearing uneasy rumours, determined to be rid of their tainted inheritance; so placed all the pictures and pretty things in the sale-market, and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten property. chat no. . "_where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat, wary of the weather, and steering by a star? shall it be to africa, a-steering of the boat, to providence, or babylon, or off to malabar._" --r. l. stevenson. the best holiday for an over-worked man, who has little time to spare, and who has not given "hostages to fortune," is to sail across the herring-pond on a cunarder or white star hotel, and so get free from newspapers, letters, visitors, dinner-parties, and all the daily irritations of modern life. those grand atlantic rollers fill the veins with new life, the tired brain with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle days slip away all too soon, after which a short stay in new york or boston city, and then back again. the study of character on board is always pleasant and instructive, and sometimes a happy friendship is begun which lasts beyond the voyage. then, again, the cliques into which the passengers so naturally fall, is funny to watch. the reading set, who early and late occupy the best placed chairs, and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous literature, and are only roused therefrom by the ringing summons to meals; then there is the betting and gambling set, who fill card and smoking room as long as the rules permit, coming to the surface now and then for breath, and to see what the day's run has been, or to organise fresh sweepstakes; then there is often an evangelical set, who gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted, and sing hymns, and address in fervid tones the sinners around them; then there are the gossips (most pleasant folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians, those who dress three times a day, and those who dress hardly at all: and so the drama of a little world is played before a very appreciative little audience. i remember on such a journey being greatly interested in the study of a delightful rugged old scotch engineer, whose friendship i obtained by a genuine admiration for his devotion to his engines, and his belief in their personality. it was his habit in the evening, after a long day's run, to sit alongside these throbbing monsters and play his violin to them, upon which he was a very fair performer, saying, "they deserved cheering up a bit after such a hard day's work!" this was a real and serious sentiment on his part, and inspired respect and an amused admiration on ours. the humours of one particular voyage which i have in my memory, were delightfully intensified by the presence on board of a very charming american child, called flossie l----, about fourteen years old, who by her capital repartees, acute observation, and pretty face, kept her particular set of friends very much alive, and made all who knew her, her devoted slaves and admirers. her remark upon a preternaturally grave person, who marched the deck each day before our chairs, "that she guessed he had a lot of laughter coiled up in him somewhere," proved, before the voyage was over, to be quite true. it was this gentleman who, one morning, solemnly confided to a friend that he was a little suspicious of the drains on board! americanisms, which are now every one's property, were at this time--i am speaking of twenty years ago--not so common, and glided from flossie's pretty lips most enchantingly. to be told on a wet morning, with half a gale of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat and gum-boots" to meet the elements, was at that day startling, if useful, advice. she professed a serious attachment for a new york cousin, aged sixteen, "because," she said, "he is so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars, reads novels, and runs away when offered candy." her quieter moments on deck were passed in reading 'dombey and son,' which, when finished, she pronounced to be all wrong, "only one really nice man in the book--carker--and he ought to have married floey." mr. hugh childers, then first lord of the admiralty, was a passenger on board our boat, and having with infinite kindness and patience explained to the child our daily progress with a big chart spread on the deck and coloured pins, was somewhat startled to see her execute a _pas seul_ over his precious map and disappear down the nearest gangway, with the remark, "my sakes, mr. childers, how terribly frivolous you are!" she had a youthful brother on board, who, one day at dinner, astonished his table by coolly saying, as he pointed to a most inoffensive old lady dining opposite to him, "steward, take away that woman, she makes me sick!" a stout and amiable friend of flossie's, who shall be nameless in these blameless records, on coming in sight of land assumed, and i fear did it very badly, some emotion at the first sight of her great country, only to be crushed by her immediate order, given in the sight and hearing of some hundred delighted passengers, "sailor, give this trembling elephant an arm, i guess he's going to be sick!" luckily for him the voyage was practically over, but for its small remnant he was known to every one on board as the trembling elephant. one day a pleasant little american neighbour at dinner touched one's sense of humour by naïvely saying, "if you don't remove that nasty little boiled hen in front of you, i know i must be ill." then there was a dull and solemn prig on board, who at every meal gave us, unasked, and _apropos des bottes_, some tremendous facts and statistics to digest, such as the number of shrimps eaten each year in london, or how many miles of iron tubing go to make the saltash bridge. finding one morning on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy of whitaker's almanack and a volume of mayhew's "london labour and the london poor," we recognised the source of his elucidations, and promptly consigned his precious books to a watery grave. of that voyage, so far as he was concerned, the rest was silence. upon remarking to an american on board that the gentleman in question was rather slow, he brought down a nasmyth hammer with which to crack his nut by saying, "slow, sir; yes, he's a big bit slower than the hour hand of eternity!" i remember on another pleasant voyage to boston meeting and forming lasting friendship with the late judge abbott of that city, whose stories and conversation were alike delightful. he spoke of a rival barrister, who once before the law courts, on opening his speech for the defence of some notorious prisoner, said, "gentlemen, i shall divide my address to you into three parts, and in the first i shall confine myself to the _facts_ of this case; secondly, i shall endeavour to explain the _law_ of this case; and finally, i shall make an all-fired rush at your passions!" it was judge abbott who told me that when at the bar he defended, and successfully, a young man charged with forging and uttering bank-notes for large values. after going fully into the case, he was entirely convinced of his client's innocence, an impression with which he succeeded in imbuing the court. after his acquittal, his client, to mark his extreme sense of gratitude to his counsel's ability, insisted upon paying him double fees. the judge's pleasure at this compliment became modified, when it soon after proved that the said fees were remitted in notes undoubtedly forged, and for the making of which he had just been tried and found "not guilty!" speaking one day of the general ignorance of the people one met, he very aptly quoted one of beecher ward's witty aphorisms, "that it is wonderful how much knowledge some people manage to steer clear of." another quotation of his from the same ample source, i remember especially pleased me. speaking of the morbid manner in which many dwelt persistently on the more sorrowful incidents and accidents of their lives, he said, "don't nurse your sorrows on your knee, but spank them and put them to bed!" on one visit to the states i took a letter of special commendation to the worthy landlord of the parker house hotel in boston. on arriving i delivered my missive at the bar, was told the good gentleman was out, was duly allotted excellent rooms, and later on sat down with an english travelling companion to an equally excellent dinner in the ladies' saloon. in the middle of our repast we saw a small jewish-looking man wending his way between the many tables in, what is literally, the marble hall, towards us. standing beside our table, and regarding us with the benignant expression of an archbishop, he carefully, though unasked, filled and emptied a bumper of our well-iced pommery greno, saying, "now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my name's parker!" upon a first visit to america few things are more striking than the originality and vigour of some of the advertisements. one advocating the use of some hair-wash or cream pleased us greatly by the simple reason it gave for its purchase, "that it was both elegant and chaste." another huge placard represented our queen victoria arrayed in crown, robes, and sceptre, drinking old jacob townsend's sarsaparilla out of a pewter pint-pot. i also saw a most elaborate allegorical design with life-size figures, purporting to induce you to buy and try somebody's tobacco. i remember that a tall yankee, supposed to represent passion, was smoking the said tobacco in a very fiery and aggressive manner, that with one hand he was binding youth and folly together with chains, presumably for refusing him a light, whilst with the other he chucked vice under the chin, she having apparently been more amenable and polite. to note how customs change, i one day in new york entered a car in the broadway, taking the last vacant seat. a few minutes, and we stopped again to admit a stout negress laden with her market purchases. the car was hot, and i was glad to yield her my seat, and stand on the cooler outside platform. she took it with a wide grin, saying with a dramatic wave of her dusky paw, "you, sir, am a gentleman, de rest am 'ogs!" a speech which would not so many years ago have probably cost her her life at the next lamppost. a washington doctor once told me the following little story, which seems to hold a peculiar humour of its own. a country lad and lassie, promised lovers, are in new york for a day's holiday. he takes her into one of those sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and pastry shops which abound, and asks her tenderly what she'll have? she thinks she'll try a brandied peach. the waiter places a large glass cylinder holding perhaps a couple of dozen of them on their table, so that they may help themselves. these peaches, be it known, are preserved in a spirituous syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed, and are very expensive. to the horror of the young man, the girl just steadily worked her way through the whole bottleful. having accomplished this feat without turning a hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a delicate would-be sarcastic note, asks with effusion, if she won't try another peach? to which the girl coyly answers, "no thank you, i don't like them, the seeds scratch my throat!" as is well known, most of the waiters and servants in american hotels are irish. dining with a dear old canadian friend at the windsor hotel in new york, we were particularly amused by the quaint look and speech of the irish gentleman who condescended to bring us our dinner. he had a face like an unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling merry little blue eyes. not feeling well, i had prescribed for myself a water diet during the meal, and hoped my guest would atone for my shortcomings with the wine. after he had twice helped himself to champagne, the while i modestly sipped my seltzer, my waiter's indignation at what he supposed was nothing less than base treachery, found vent in the following stage-aside to me: "hev an oi, sorr, on your frind, he's a-gaining on ye!" chat no. . "_give them strength to brook and bear, trial pain, and trial care; let them see thy saving light; be thou 'watchman of their night.'_" --sabbath evening song. armed with a special order of the then lord mayor, sir robert nicholas fowler, i sallied forth one lovely blue day in june, and timidly rang the little brass bell beside the little green door giving into newgate prison. the gaol is now only used to house the prisoners on the days of trial, and for executions on the days of expiation; at other times, save for the presence of a couple of warders, it is entirely empty, and empty it was on this my day of call. presenting my mandate to the very civil warder who replied to my summons, i was (he having to guard the door) handed to his colleague's care, to be shown the mysteries of this great silent tomb, lying so gloomily amid the city's stir. the first point of interest was the chapel, with that terribly suggestive chair, standing alone in the centre of the floor opposite the pulpit, on which the condemned used to sit the sunday before his dreadful death, and, the observed of all the other prisoners, heard his own funeral sermon preached--a refinement of cruelty difficult to understand in this very christian country. then followed a visit to the condemned cells, two in number, and which are situated far below the level of the outside street. they are small square rooms with whitewashed walls, enlivened by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen texts; in each is a fixed truckle bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat on either side. the warder in attendance stated that he had passed many nights in them with condemned prisoners, and had rarely found his charges either restless or unable to sleep well, long, and calmly! there is an old story told of a murderer, about whose case some doubt was raised, and to whom the prison chaplain, as he lay under sentence of death, lent a bible. in due course a free pardon arrived, and as the prisoner left the gaol, he turned to the chaplain saying, "well, sir, here's your bible; many thanks for the loan of it, and i only hope i shall never want it again." then we visited the pinioning room; this process is carried out by strapping on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat, with buckles at the back and outside sockets for the arms and wrists. while putting on one of these, i found the leather was cold and damp; it then occurred to me, with some horror, that it was still moist with the death-sweat of the executed. the scaffold stands alone across one of the yards, in a little wooden building not inappropriately like a butcher's shop. when used, the large shutter in front is let down, and the interior is seen to consist of a heavy cross-beam on two uprights, a link or two of chain in the middle, a very deep drop, with padded leather sides to deaden the sound of the falling platform, a covered space on one side for the coffin, and on the other a strong lever, such as is used on railways to move the points, and which here draws the bolt, releasing the platform on which the culprit stands; a high stool for the victim, should he prove nervous or faint--and that is all the furniture and fittings of this gruesome building. the dark cell is perhaps the most dreadful part of this peculiarly ghastly show, and after being shut in it for a few minutes, which seemed hours, one fully understood its terrific taming power over the most rebellious prisoners: you are literally enveloped in a sort of velvety blackness that can be felt, which, with the absolute and awful silence, seemed to force the blood to the head and choke one. upon asking the warder to tell us something of the idiosyncrasies of the more celebrated criminals he had known, he stated that wainright the murderer was the most talkative, vain, and boastful person he had seen there, that his craving for tobacco was curiously extreme, and he was immensely gratified when the governor of the prison promised him a large cigar the night before his execution. the promise kept, he walked up and down the yard with the governor, detailing with unctuous pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions, like another pepys. "but," added my informant, "the pleasantest, cheeriest man we ever had to hang in my time was dr. lampson, full of fun and anecdote, with nice manners that made him friends all round. he was outwardly very brave in facing his fate, and yet, as he walked to the scaffold, those behind him saw all the back muscles writhing, working, and twitching like snakes in a bag, and thus belying the calm face and gentle smile in front. ah! we missed him very much indeed, and were very sorry to lose him. a real gentleman he was in every way!" it was pleasant, and a vast relief after this strange experience, to emerge suddenly from this dream of mad, sad, bad things into the roar of the city streets, to see the blue sky, and find men's faces looking once again pleasantly into our own; but, nevertheless, newgate should be seen by the curious, and those who can do so without coercion, before it disappears. chat no. . "_to all their dated backs he turns you round: these aldus printed, those du sueil has bound._" --pope. it is the present fashion to extol the old bookbinders at the expense of the living, and for collectors to give fabulous prices for a volume bound by de thou, geoffroy tory, philippe le noir, the two eves (nicolas and clovis), le gascon, derome, and others. beautiful, rare, and interesting as their work is, i venture to say that we have modern bookbinders in england and france who can, and do, if you give them plenty of time and a free hand as to price, produce work as fine, as original, as closely thought out, as beautiful in design, material, and colour, as that of any of the great masters of the craft of olden days. for perfectly simple work of the best kind, examine the bindings of the late francis bedford; and his name reminds me of a curious freak of the late duke of portland in relation to this art. he subscribed for all the ordinary newspapers and magazines of the day, and instead of consigning them to the waste-paper basket when read, had them whole bound in beautiful crushed morocco coats of many colours by the said bedford; then he had perfectly fitting oaken boxes made, lined with white velvet, and fitted with a patent bramah lock and duplicate keys, each box to hold one volume, the total cost of thus habiting this literary rubbish being about £ a volume. bedford kept a special staff of expert workmen upon this curious standing order until the duke died. by his will he, unfortunately, made them heirlooms, otherwise they would have sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles liking to have possessed a volume with so odd a history. soon after the duke's death i went over the well-known house in cavendish square with my kind friend mr. woods of king street, and he showed me piles of these boxes, each containing its beautifully bound volume of uselessness. but to return to our sheepskins. i would ask, where can you see finer workmanship than mr. joseph w. zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting covers? he once produced two lovely pieces of softly tanned, vellum-like leather of the purest white colour, and asked if i knew what they were. after some ineffectual guesses, he stated that the one with the somewhat coarser texture was a man's skin, and the finer specimen a woman's. the idea was disagreeable, and i declined to purchase or to have any volumes belonging to my simple shelves clothed in such garments. an english bookbinder who made a name in his day was hayday; he flourished (as the biographical dictionaries are fond of saying) in the beginning of the present reign. i possess samuel rogers' "poems" and "italy," in two quarto volumes, bound by him very charmingly. in this size turner's drawings, which illustrate these two books, are shown to admiration, and alone galvanise these otherwise dreary works. hayday was succeeded by one mansell, who also did some good work; but i think domestic affliction beclouded his later years, and affected his business, as i have lost sight of him for some years. among other english bookbinders of the present day i would name tout, whose simple, quaker-like work, with grolier tooling, is worth seeing. mackenzie was, in his day, a good old scotch binder; but the treasure i have personally found and introduced to many, is my excellent friend mr. birdsall of northampton. his specialty is supposed to be in vellum bindings, which material he manipulates with a grace and finish very satisfactory to see. he can make the hinges of a vellum-bound book swing as easily as a friend's door. he spares no time, thought, or trouble in working out suitable designs for the books entrusted to his care. for instance, i possess benjamin d'israeli's german grammar, used by him when a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved, he specially cast a brass stamp, with d'israeli's crest, which, impressed adown the back and on the panels, correctly finishes this interesting memento. then, again, when he had beau brummell's "life" to work upon, he used dies representing a poppy, as an emblem flower, a money-bag, very empty, and a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these show thought, as well as a pleasant fancy, and greatly add to the interest of the completed binding. i have some work by m. marius michel, the great french binder, whose show-cases in the faubourg-saint-germain, in paris, were a treat to examine. he was kind enough to let me one fine day select and take therefrom two volumes of e. a. poe's works translated and noted by beaudelaire, beautifully clothed by him; and he, at the same visit, gave me an autograph copy of his "l'ornamentation des reliures modernes," with which, when i returned to england, i asked mr. birdsall to do what he could. set a binder to catch a binder, was in this case our motto, and mr. birdsall has, i think, fairly caught out his great rival, although i have not yet had an opportunity of taking m. michel's opinion upon the englishman's work. * * * * * one of the leading characteristics of the present day is its craze for work, unceasing work, work early and late, work done with a rush, destroying nerves, and rendering repose impossible. "late taking rest and eating the bread of carefulness" do not go together, the bread being as a rule anything but carefully consumed. r. l. stevenson somewhere says, "so long as you are a bit of a coward, and inflexible in money matters, you fulfil the whole duty of man," and perhaps this is the creed of the present race of over-workers. in the city of london we see this hasting to be rich brought to the perfection of a fine art (with a capital f and a capital a). charles dickens, who always resolved the wit of every question into a nutshell, makes eugene wrayburn, in "our mutual friend," strenuously object to being always urged forward in the path of energy. "there's nothing like work," said mr. boffin; "look at the bees!" "i beg your pardon," returned eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but will you excuse my mentioning that i always protest against being referred to the bees? ... i object on principle, as a two-footed creature, to being constantly referred to insects and four-footed creatures. i object to being required to model my proceedings according to the proceedings of the bee, or the dog, or the spider, or the camel. i fully admit that the camel, for instance, is an excessively temperate person; but he has several stomachs to entertain himself with, and i have only one." ... "but," urged mr. boffin, "i said the bee, they work." "yes," returned eugene disparagingly, "they work, but don't you think they overdo it? they work so much more than they need--they make so much more than they can eat--they are so incessantly boring and buzzing at their one idea till death comes upon them--that don't you think they overdo it?" some time since i cut from the pages of the _st. james' gazette_ the following "cynical song of the city," which pleasantly sets forth the present craze for work, and again proves, like dickens' bee, that we rather overdo it:-- "through the slush and the rain and the fog, when a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom, to the city we jolt and we jog on foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom; to labour a few years, and then have done, a capital prospect at twenty-one! there's a wife and three children to keep, with chances of more in the offing; we've a house at earl's court on the cheap, and sometimes we get a day's golfing. well! sooner or later we'll have better fun; the heart is still hopeful at thirty-one. the boy's gone to college to-day, the girls must have ladylike dresses; thank goodness we're able to pay-- the business has had its successes; we must grind at the mill for the sake of our son. besides, we're still youngish at forty-one. it has come! we've a house in the shires, we're one of the land-owning gentry, the children have all their desires, but _we_ must do more double-entry; we must keep things together, no time left for fun, ah! had we been twenty--not fifty--one! a baronet! j.p.! d.l.! but it means harder work, little pleasure; we must stick to the city as well, though we're tired and longing for leisure. we shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done, as rich as the bank, though we can't chew a bun, and the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won at seventy--eighty--or ninety-one." * * * * * guests at foxwold are given the opportunity, when black monday arrives, of catching a most unearthly and uneasily early train, which involves their rising with anything but a lark, swallowing a hurried breakfast, a mounting into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon after eight, and then being puffed away through south-eastern tunnels to the busy hum of those unduly busy men of whom we speak. to catch this early train, which means that you "leave the warm precincts of your cheerful bed, nor cast one longing lingering look behind," some of our friends most justly object, preferring the early calm, the well-considered uprisal, the dawdled breakfast, and the ladies' train at the maturer hour of . . our dear friend, mr. anstey guthrie, having firmly and most wisely declined the early train and any consequent worm, one very chilly morn, as the early risers were starting for the station, appeared at his chamber window awfully arrayed in white, and muttering with the fervour of another john bradford, "there goes anstey guthrie--but for the grace of god," plunged back into his rapidly cooling couch, "and left the world to darkness and to us." chat no. . "_it's idle to repine, i know; i'll tell you what i'll do instead, i'll drink my arrowroot, and go to bed._"--c. s. c. my good and kind old friend robert baxter, who now rests from his labours, was, during his long active life in westminster (dispensing law to the rich and sharing its profits with the poor), one of the most charitable and hospitable of men. occasionally, however, even his goodness was taxed with such severity, as to somewhat try his patience. the once well-known mrs. x---- of a----, a philanthropic but foolish old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited, at his house in queen's square, suffering from the first symptoms of rheumatic fever. calmly establishing herself in the best guest-chamber, and surrounded by the necessary maid, nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind host's dwelling into a private hospital for many weeks. when at last she reached the stage of convalescence, and was allowed to take daily outings and airings, mr. baxter's capital old butler, sage, had the privilege of carrying the fair but weighty invalid downstairs to the carriage, and upstairs to her rooms once, and often twice, a day. no small effort for any man's strength, however athletic he might be, and sage, be it conceded, was a moderate giant. the weeks dragged themselves away, and at last the welcome date for a final flitting to her own home arrived. sage felt that he had well earned an extraordinary douceur for all his labours, and was not therefore surprised when the good lady on leaving slipped into his willing hand a suggestive looking folded-up blue slip of paper instead of the more limited gold. retiring to his pantry to satisfy his very natural curiosity as to the amount of the vail so fully deserved, his feelings may be imagined, but not described, when he found that instead of the expected cheque, it was what, in evangelical circles, is called a leaflet, bearing on its face the following appropriate and cheerful text: "thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee!" whilst upon the subject of misapplied texts, another instance, touched with a pleasant humour, occurs to me. many years ago i visited for the first time an old friend and his wife in their pleasant country house. upon being shown into what was evidently one of the best guest-chambers, i was intensely delighted to find over the mantelpiece the following framed text, in large illuminated letters: "occupy till i come!" unprepared to make so long a stay, i left on the monday morning following, and have no doubt the generous invitation still remains to welcome the coming guest. another story of a like nature was told us by mr. anstey guthrie, and is therefore worth repeating. he once saw a long procession of happy school-children going to some feast, headed by a band of music and a standard-bearer. the latter was staggering beneath an immense banner, on which was painted the lion of saint mark's, rampant, with mouth, teeth, and claws ready and rapacious; underneath was the singularly appropriate and happy legend, "suffer little children to come unto me." another capital story from the same source, which time cannot wither, nor custom stale, is, that at some small english seaside resort a spirited and generous townsman has presented a number of free seats for the parade, each one adorned with an iron label stating that "mr. jones of this town presented these free seats for the public's use, the sea is his, and he made it." [illustration] chat no. "_where are my friends? i am alone; no playmate shares my beaker: some lie beneath the churchyard stone, and some--before the speaker: and some compose a tragedy, and some compose a rondo; and some draw sword for liberty, and some draw pleas for john doe._" --w. m. praed. "_all analysis comes late._"--aurora leigh. the difficulty which has existed since lord tennyson's dramatic death, of choosing a successor to the laureateship, has partly arisen from the presence of so many minor poets, and the absence, with one remarkable exception, of any monarch of song. the exception is, of course, mr. swinburne, who stands alone as the greatest living master of english verse. the objections to his appointment may, in some eyes, have importance, but time has sobered his more erratic flights, leaving a large residuum of fine work, both in poetry and prose, which would make him a worthy successor to any of those gone before. of the smaller fry, it is difficult to prophesy which will hereafter come to the front, and what of their work may live. as oliver wendell holmes so pathetically says:-- "deal gently with us, ye who read! our largest hope is unfulfilled; the promise still outruns the deed; the tower, but not the spire we build. our whitest pearl we never find; our ripest fruit we never reach; the flowering moments of the mind, lose half their petals in our speech." the late lord lytton (owen meredith) was very unequal in all he produced. perhaps the following ballad from his volume of "selected poems," published in by longmans, is one of the best and most characteristic he has written:-- the wood devil. . "in the wood, where i wander'd astray, came the devil a-talking to me, o mother! mother! but why did ye tell me, and why did they say, that the devil's a horrible blackamoor? he black-faced and horrible? no, mother, no! and how should a poor girl be likely to know that the devil's so gallant and gay, mother? so gentle and gallant and gay, with his curly head, and his comely face, and his cap and feather, and saucy grace, mother! mother! ii. and 'pretty one, whither away? and shall i come with you?' said he. o mother! mother! and so winsome he was, not a word could i say, and he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me, and he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till i kiss'd him again, and o, not till he left me i knew to my pain 'twas the devil that led me astray, mother! the devil so gallant and gay, with his curly head, and his comely face, and his cap and feather, and saucy grace, mother! mother!" mr. edmund gosse's work is always scholarly and well thought out, framed in easy, pleasant english. in some of his poems he reminds one of the "autocrat of the breakfast table." his song of the "wounded gull" is very like dr. holmes, both in subject and treatment:-- "the children laughed, and called it tame! but ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing hung by its side; the gull was lame, a suffering and deserted thing. with painful care it downward crept; its eye was on the rolling sea; close to our very feet, it stept upon the wave, and then--was free. right out into the east it went too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek; slowly it steered, in wonderment to find its enemies so meek. calmly it steered, and mortal dread disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume; it could but die, and being dead, the open sea should be its tomb. we watched it till we saw it float almost beyond our furthest view; it flickered like a paper boat, then faded in the dazzling blue. it could but touch an english heart to find an english bird so brave; our life-blood glowed to see it start thus boldly on the leaguered wave." a few fortunate persons possess copies of mr. gosse's catalogue of his library, and it is, i rejoice to say, on the foxwold shelves. it is a most charming work, reflecting on every page, by many subtle touches, the refined humour and wide knowledge of the collector. mr. austin dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf as follows:-- "i doubt your painful pedants who can read a dictionary through; but he must be a dismal dog, who can't enjoy this catalogue!" of the little mutual admiration and log-rolling society, whose headquarters are in vigo street, no serious account need be taken. time will deal with these very minor poets, and whether kindly or not, time will prove. they may possibly be able to await the verdict with a serene and confident patience--and so can we. an exception may perhaps be made for some of mr. arthur symon's "silhouettes," as the following extract will show:-- "emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air, eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile, come to me out of the past, and i see her there as i saw her once for a while. emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright, fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook, and still i hear her telling us tales that night, out of boccaccio's book. there, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall, leaning across the table, over the beer, while the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball, as the midnight hour drew near. there with the women, haggard, painted, and old, one fresh bud in a garland withered and stale, she, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told tale after shameless tale. and ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled, paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun, and the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child, or ever the tale was done. o my child, who wronged you first, and began first the dance of death that you dance so well? soul for soul: and i think the soul of a man shall answer for yours in hell." mr. austin dobson and the late mr. locker-lampson are perhaps the finest writers of _vers de société_ since praed; whilst in the broader school of humour c. s. calverley, mr. dodgson (of "alice in wonderland" fame), and the late james kenneth stephen, stand alone and unchallenged; and mr. watson, if health serve, will go far; and so with some pathetic words of one of these moderns we will end this somewhat aimless chat:-- "my heart is dashed with cares and fears, my song comes fluttering and is gone; oh, high above this home of tears, eternal joy,--sing on." chat no. . "_punch! in the presence of the passengers._" within the past year certain gentle disputes and friendly discussions as to the origin of _punch_, and who its first real editor was, and whether or no henry mayhew evolved it with the help of suitable friends in a debtor's prison, remind us that foxwold possesses some rather curious "memories" of this famous paper. these disputes should now be put to rest for ever by mr. spielmann's exhaustive "history of mr. punch," which, it may safely be supposed, appeared with some sort of authority from "mr. punch" himself. one of our "odds and ends" is a kit-kat portrait in oil of horace mayhew, "ponny," excellent both as a likeness and a work of art, which should eventually find hanging space in the celebrated _punch_ dining-room. there is also a pencil drawing of him, in which "the count," as he was called, is dressed in the smartest fashion of that day, and crowned with a d'orsay hat, resplendent, original, and gay. he made a rather unhappy marriage late in his life, and found that habits from which he was not personally free showed themselves rather frequently in his wife's conduct. one day, in a state of emotion and whisky and water, he pressed mark lemon's hand, and, bursting into tears, murmured, "my dear friend, she drinks! she drinks!!" "all right," was the editor's cheery reply, "my dear boy; cheer up, so do you!" near by hangs a characteristic pencil sketch of douglas jerrold, who, if small, was no hunchback (as has been lately stated), but was a very neatly made, active little man, with a grand head covered with a profusion of lightish hair, which he had a trick of throwing back, like a lion's mane, and a pair of bright piercing blue eyes. there is an engraving of a bust of him prefixed to his life (written by his son, blanchard jerrold), which well conveys the nobility of the well-set head. then comes a capital drawing of kenny meadows in profile, and a thoroughly characteristic irish phiz it is. these pencil portraits are all from the gifted hand of mr. george augustus sala, and formerly belonged to horace mayhew himself. mr. sala, as is now well known by means of his autobiography, was once an artist and book-illustrator, and foxwold is the proud possessor of the only picture in oil extant from his brush. it is called "saturday night in a gin-palace": it is full of a hogarthian power, and by its execution, drawing, and colour shows that had mr. sala made painting his profession instead of literature, he would have gone far and fared well. the little picture is signed "g. a. sala," and was found many years ago in an old house in brompton, when the present owner secured it for a moderate sum, and then wrote to mr. sala asking if the picture was authentic. a reply was received by the next post, in the beautiful handwriting for which he is famous, and runs as follows:--- mecklenburgh square, w.c., _tuesday, twenty-fifth june _. "dear sir, i beg to acknowledge receipt of your courteous and (to me) singularly interesting note. "yes, the little old oil-picture of the 'gin-palace bar' is mine sure enough. i can remember it as distinctly as though it had been painted yesterday. great casks of liquor in the background; little stunted figures (including one of a dustman with a shovel) in the foreground. details executed with laborious niggling minuteness; but the whole work must be now dingy and faded to almost total obscuration, since i remember that in painting it i only used turpentine for a medium, the spirit of which must have long since 'flown,' and left the pigment flat or 'scaly.' "the thing was done in paris six-and-twenty years ago (ap. ), and being brought to london, was sold to the late adolphus ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing firm of ackermann & co., strand (premises now occupied by e. rimmel, the perfumer), for the sum of five pounds. i hope that you did not give more than a few shillings for it, for it was a vile little daub. i was at the time when i produced it an engraver and lithographer, and i believe that mr. ackermann only purchased the picture with a view to encourage me to 'take up' oil-painting. but i did not do so. i 'took up' literature instead, and a pretty market i have brought my pigs to! at all events, _you_ possess the only picture in oil extant from the brush of yours very faithfully, george augustus sala." _to_ h. n. pym, esq. when mr. sala afterwards called to see the picture, he altered his mind as to its being "a vile little daub," and found the colours as fresh and bright as when painted. we greatly value it, if only as the cause of a lasting friendship it started with the artist. his own portrait by vernet, in pen and ink, now graces our little gallery; it is a back view, taken amidst his books, and a most characteristic and excellent likeness of this accomplished and versatile gentleman.[ ] one of our guest-chambers is solemnly dedicated to the honour and glory of "mr. punch," and on its walls hang some original oil sketches by john leech, drawings by charles keene, mr. harry furniss, randolph caldecote, mr. bernard partridge, mr. anstey guthrie, and mr. du maurier; whilst kindly caricatures of some of the staff, and a print of the celebrated dinner-table, signed by the contributors, complete the decoration of a very cheery little room. footnote: [ ] whilst these pages are passing through the press, george augustus sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. an unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles, physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life in gloom: as mr. bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor of this volume, "it is so sad when the autumn of such a life is tempestuous."--_december , ._ chat no. "_then be contented. thou hast got the most of heaven in thy young lot; there's sky-blue in thy cup! thou'lt find thy manhood all too fast--- soon come, soon gone! and age at last, a sorry breaking-up._" --thomas hood. it was my good fortune some short time since to revisit that most educational of english towns, bedford, and having many years ago had the extreme privilege of being a bedford schoolboy, i was able to draw a comparison between then and now. in the good old days these admirable schools were managed in the good old way--plenty of classics, plenty of swishing, plenty of cricket and boating, and plenty of holidays. we sometimes turned out boys who afterwards made their mark in the big world, and the school registers are proud to contain the names of such men as burnell, the oriental scholar, who out-knowledged even sir william jones in this respect; colonel fred. burnaby, brave soldier and attractive travel writer; inverarity, the lion-hunter and crack shot; sir henry hawkins, stern judge and brilliant wit, and many others of like degree. nor must we forgot that john bunyan here learnt sufficient reading and writing to enable him in after years to pen his marvellous book during his imprisonment in bedford gaol, which was then situated midway on the bridge over the river ouse. in that wonderful monument to the courage and enterprise of mr. george smith (kindest of friends and best of publishers), "the national dictionary of biography," the record is frequent of men who owed their education and perhaps best chance in the life they afterwards made a success, to bedford school, but,-- "long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted, as when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred, yet still with their music is memory haunted, and oft in my dreams are their melodies heard." but if the good old school was a success in those bygone days, what must be said for it now, when, under the napoleon-like administration of its present chief, the school-house has been rebuilt in its own park, upon all the best and latest known principles of comfort and sanitation, where a boy can, besides going through the full round of usual study, follow the bent of his own peculiar taste, and find special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing or music, chemistry or wood-carving, ambulance work or drawing from the figure; whilst the beautiful river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields and football yards are crowded, and the bathing stations are a constant joy? truly the present generation of bedford boys are much blessed in their surroundings; and whilst they remember with gratitude the pious founder, sir william harper, should strive to do credit to his name and memory by the exercise of their powers in the battle of after-life, having received so thorough and broad-minded a training in the happy and receptive days of their youth. bedford town is now one of the most strikingly attractive in england, with its fine river embankment, its grand old churches, its statues erected to the memory of the "inspired tinker," bunyan, and the prison philanthropist, howard, both of whom lived about a mile or so from the town, the former at elstow, the latter at cardington. it was very good and heart-restoring to revisit the hospitable old school with its pleasant surroundings and to find, as robert louis stevenson says, that,-- "home from the indies, and home from the ocean, heroes and soldiers they all shall come home; still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion, turning and churning that river to foam." * * * * * since printing our last little "tour round the bookshelves," in which we ventured to include some capital lines by our evergreen and many-sided friend rudolf chambers lehmann, he has again added to the interest of our visitors' book under the following circumstances. guests and home-birds were all resting after the exhausting idleness of an easter holiday when they were suddenly aroused from their day-dreams by loud cries of "fire!" accompanied by the sound of horses and chariots approaching the house at full speed. on looking out, like sister anne or a pretty page, we were able to assuage our guests' natural alarm by explaining that the local fire brigade were practising upon our vile bodies and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger did not. on their ultimately retiring, satisfied with their mock efforts, and fortified by beer, our welcome guest wrote with his usual flying pen the following characteristic lines to commemorate their visit:-- "fire! fire!!" (an easter monday incident.) "a day of days, an april day; cool air without, and cloudless sun; within, upon the ordered tray, cakes, and the luscious sally-lunn. since pym has walked, and guthrie climbed to rob some feathered songster's nest, their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed-- pour, lady, pour, and let them rest. but hark! what sound disturbs their tea, and clatters up the carriage drive? a dinner guest? it cannot be; no, no, the hour is only five. what sight is this the fates disclose, that breaks upon our startled view? two horses, countless yards of hose, nine firemen, and an engine too. where burns the fire? tush, 'tis but sport; the horses stop, the men descend, take hoses long, and hoses short, and fit them deftly end to end. attention! lo their chieftain calls-- they run, they answer to their names, and hypothetic water falls in streams upon imagined flames. well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done; accept, the peril past, our thanks; though all your toil was only fun, and air was all that filled your tanks: no, not for nought you came and dared, return in peace, and drink your fill; it was, as mrs. pym declared, 'a highly interesting drill.'" _april , ._ another poet whose pen sometimes gilds our modest record of angels' visits, is a well-beloved cousin, harry luxmoore by name, at eton known so well. his christmas greeting for shall here appear, and prove to him how deep is foxwold's affectionate obligation for wishes so delightfully expressed:-- "glooms overhead a frozen sky, rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth, yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie, and somewhere sleeps the coming birth. folded in root and grain is lying, the bud, the bloom we soon may see, and in the old year now a-dying is hid the new year that shall be. o what if snows be deep? so shrouded matures the soil with promise rife and sap, for all the skies be clouded, ripens at heart a lustier life. then welcome winter--while we shiver strength harbours deeper, and the blast of sounder, manlier force the giver strips off betimes our withered past. come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower, come weal, come woe, as best may be, still may the new year's hidden dower be good for you and horace, and all the little ones, and good for me." chat no. . "_my ears are deaf with this impatient crowd: their wants are now grown mutinous and loud._" --dryden. the following graphic account of the rising in paris in was written by john poole to charles dickens, and was recently found amongst the papers of mrs. john forster, the widow of the well-known writer, dickens' friend and biographer, and is, i think, worthy of print. john poole was a sometime celebrated character, having written that evergreen play "paul pry," as well as "little pedlington," and other humorous works mostly now forgotten. as he grew old poverty came to bear him company, and was only prevented from causing him actual suffering by the usual generosity of dickens and other members of that charmed circle, further aided by a small government grant, obtained for him by the same faithful friend from lord john russell. the letter is addressed to charles dickens, esq., no. devonshire terrace, york gate, regent's park, london, and deals with the celebrated uprisal of the french mob, when a force of , regulars and nearly , national guards was massed round paris to resist it. the carnage was terrible, some persons being killed on both sides, and , insurgents made prisoners. it was only by general cavaignac's firmness and tactful management under lamartine's directions, that the mob was reduced and the republican government established. the general was afterwards nearly elected president of the french republic, receiving , , votes, but prince louis napoleon beat him, and, as history tells, held the reins in various capacities for the next twenty eventful years. poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness, gives a remarkably clear impression of the scene as it appeared in his orbit. dickens, on receiving it, evidently sent it the round of his friends, and it then remained in john forster's possession until his death. "(paris), _saturday, jul _. "my dear dickens, i wrote to you through the embassy on the nd june, giving you an address for the three last dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue of the ex-king's wine; and on the th i sent you a word in a letter to macready. dombeys not yet arrived, and i shall wait no longer to acknowledge their arrival (as i have been doing), but at once proceed to give you a few lines. since the day of my writing to you i have lived four years: friday (the rd), saturday, sunday, monday, each a year. "the proceedings of the three days of february were mere child's-play compared with these. never shall i forget them, for they showed me scenes of blood and death. friday morning the '_rappel_' was beat--always a disagreeable hint. presently i heard discharges of musketry, then they beat the '_générale._' my _concierge_ ran into my room, and, with a long white face, told me the mob had erected huge barricades in the faubourg-saint-denis, and above, down to the porte st. denis, and that tremendous fighting was going on there. (the porte st. denis bears marks of the fray.) 'then, madame blanchard,' i said, 'as you seem to be breaking out again, i shall take a _sac-de-nuit_, and say adieu to you till you shall have returned to your good behaviour.'--'but monsieur could not get away for love or money--the insurgents have possession of the chemin de fer, and had torn up the rails as far as st. denis.' this was what she had been told, so i went out to ascertain the fact. "impossible to approach that quarter, and difficult to turn the corner of a street without interruption--groups of fifteen, twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all about. towards evening matters seemed rather more tranquil, and between six and seven o'clock i contrived (though not easily) to make my way to sestels, in the rue st. honoré (one of the very best of the second-rate restaurateurs in paris, 'which note'). the large saloon was filled with men in uniform, national guards chiefly, and only two women there. i was there about an hour, and in that time three dead bodies were carried past on covered litters. it was thought the disturbances were pretty well over, as a powerful body of troops had been ordered down to the scene of action. "at about eight o'clock i went out for the purpose of making a visit in the rue d'enghien, but found the whole width of the boulevard montmartre, which, as you know, leads to the boulevard st. denis, defended by a compact body of national guards--impassable! between nine and ten o'clock three regiments of cavalry, with cannon--a long, long procession--marched in the direction of the scene of insurrection. this was a comforting sight, and as such everybody seemed to consider it, and i went home. and this was midsummer eve!--walpurgis night! "the next day, saturday, midsummer day, i never shall forget! sleep had been hopeless--the night had been disturbed by the frequent beating of the '_générale_' and the cry '_aux armes!_' every now and then i looked up at the sky, expecting to see it red from some direful conflagration. day came, and soon the firing of musketry was heard, now from the direction of the faubourg-saint-antoine, now from the faubourg-saint-marceaux. then came the heavy booming of cannon--death in every echo! from twelve till nearly one, and again after a pause, it was dreadful. (i cannot make 'fun' of this, like the facetious correspondent of the _morning post_. who is he? surely he must be an ex-reporter for the cobourg play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house quotations. i am utterly disgusted and revolted at the tasteless levity with which he describes scenes of blood and destruction and death, and so treats of matters, all of which require grave and sober handling. and then he describes, as an eye-witness, things which, happen though they did, i am certain he could not have been present to see.) "well, as we were soon to be in a state of siege, and strictly confined to home, i can tell you nothing but what i saw here on this very spot. one event is a remembrance for life. in this house lived general de bourgon, one of what they call the 'old africans.' in the course of the morning general korte (another of them) called on him, and said, 'i dare say cavaignac has plenty to do. i will go and ask him if we can be of any service to him. if we can, i will send for you, so keep yourself in the way.' he was in paris 'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so he sent blanchard (the _concierge_) to the _manège_, which is in the next street, to inquire whether they had a horse that would 'stand fire.' yes; but they would not let it go out. the next message intimated that they must send it, or it would be taken by force. at about two o'clock, going out, i met, coming out of his apartments on the second floor (i, you know, am on the fourth), general de bourgon, in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and his sister-in-law--the latter a very beautiful woman, somewhat in the style of mrs. norton. as usual, we exchanged _bon-jours_ in passing. i went as far as the boulevard at the end of the street. there was a strong guard at the 'hôtel des affaires Étrangères,' and there i was stopped. an officer of the national guard asked me whether i was proceeding in the direction of my residence. answering in the negative, he said (but with great courtesy), 'then, sir, i advise you to return; it is in your interest i do so; besides' (pointing in the direction where was heard a heavy firing), 'd'ailleurs, monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour de promenade.' "i returned, and tried by the place vendôme, but about half-way up the rue de la paix was again stopped. after loitering about for an hour, and unable to get anything in the shape of positive information, i returned home. shortly after three i saw the general de bourgon in full uniform, and on horseback. he proceeded a few paces, stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers adjusted, and then, followed by an orderly, went off at a brisk trot. soon afterwards a guard was placed in the middle and at each end of this street; no one was allowed to loiter, or to quit it but with good reason, and only then was passed on by one sentinel to the next, so from that moment i was not out of the house till monday morning. "at about half-past six the street--usually a noisy one--being perfectly still, i heard the measured tramp of feet approaching from the direction of the boulevard. i went to the window, and saw about fifteen or eighteen soldiers, some bearing, and the rest guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a wounded officer. he was bare-headed, his black stock had been removed, his coat thrown wide open, and over his left thigh was spread a soldier's grey greatcoat. to my horror the procession stopped at this door. it was the general brought home desperately wounded! i ran down and saw him brought up to his apartment, crying out with agony at every shake he received on the winding, slippery staircase. on the following friday (the th), at eleven o'clock at noon, after severe suffering, he died. in the course of the day i saw him; his neck was uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had been making a sketch of him)--he looked like one in placid contemplation. previously to the fatal result, at one of my frequent visits of inquiry, i saw madame de bourgon (the sister-in-law). she replied mournfully, but without apparent emotion, 'we are in hopes they will be able to perform the amputation to-morrow.' (they could not.) 'but see! he has passed his life, as it were, on the field of battle--twelve years in africa--and to fall in this way! but it was his duty to go out.' "'and, madame, how is she?' "'eh, mon dieu, monsieur! how would you have her be? but a soldier's wife must be prepared for these things.' "(she, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the general's brother, colonel de bourgon.) his friend, general korte, too, was wounded, but not dangerously. "in all the african campaigns only two generals were killed, in these street fights six! but the insurgents fought at tremendous advantage. on that said saturday afternoon two incidents occurred, trifling if you will, but they struck me. a large flight of crows passed over, taking a direction towards the prison of st. lazare, showing that fighting was murderous; and a rainbow (one of the most beautiful i ever saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof of the opposite houses. beneath it seemed to come the noise of the fight; the sign of peace and the sounds of war and death. mrs. norton could make a verse or two out of this. this was midsummer's day! "our midsummer night's dreams were not pleasant, believe me. no--there was no sleep on that night--a night of terrible anxiety. paris was in a state of siege--no one allowed to be out of the house, nor a window permitted to be opened. all night was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel under my very window--'sentinelle prenez garde à vous.' i can hardly describe by words the peculiar tone in which this was uttered, but the syllable 'nelle' was accented, and the word 'vous' was uttered briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark. this was given _fortissimo_--repeated by the next _forte_--beyond him, _piano_--further on, _pianissimo_--till it returned, louder and louder, and then died away again, and so on, and on, and on till daybreak. then was beat the '_rappel_'--then the '_générale_'--then again the firing. "this was sunday morning, and from five o'clock till ten at night was not the happiest, but the longest day of my life. any sort of occupation was out of the question. each hour appeared a day. impossible to get out, or to receive a visit, or to send a message, or to procure any reliable information as to what was going on, or how or when these doings were likely to end. all was doubt, uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable. the only information to be procured was from the bearers of some wounded men as they passed now and then to the ambulance (the temporary hospital established at the church of the assumption). but no two accounts were alike. i was suffering deep anxiety concerning a good kind french family of my acquaintance, living within a five minutes' walk of this place. 'could i by any possibility procure a commissionaire to carry a note for me? i'll give him five francs (the hire being ten sous).' 'not, sir,' said my _concierge_, 'if you would give a hundred!' the poor general wanted some soldiers from the barracks (next to the assumption) to carry an order for him. after great difficulty the wife of the _concierge_ was allowed to go and fetch one; but she was searched for ammunition by the first sentinel, and then passed on thus and back again from one to another. no post in--no letters--no newspapers. at length, at a month's end, night came. that night like the last--'sentinelle prenez garde à vous,' &c. &c. "on monday morning ( th), after a sleepless night--for, for any means we had of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents might at any moment be expected to attack this quarter, a quarter marked down by them for fire and pillage--at about eight o'clock, i lay down on a sofa and slept soundly till ten; i awoke, and was struck by the appalling silence! this is a noisy street. always from about seven in the morning till late in the day one's head is distracted by the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these are now added the cries of the vendors of cheap newspapers), the passage of carriages and carts of all descriptions, street-singers, organ-grinders endless, the screeching of parrots and barking of dogs exposed for sale by a _grocer_ on the opposite side of the way, together with the swarming of his and his neighbour's dirty children--all was hushed; not a footfall, 'not (a line that is not often applicable here) a drum was heard.' yes, i repeat it, this universal silence was appalling! not a person, save the still guards on duty, was to be seen. the shops were all closed, and, but for this circumstance, it seemed like a sunday! strange! (and i find it was the same with many other persons to whom i have mentioned the circumstance) i was uncertain during these anxious days as to the day of the week. at about eleven o'clock the _concierge_ came to tell me that the insurrection was at an end. in less than an hour there was heard a sharp fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction of the faubourg-saint-antoine. the insurgents had strengthened themselves at that point (she came to say), but that, so far as she could learn, general cavaignac had at length resolved, by bombarding the _quartier_, to suppress the insurrection before the day should end. _and he did!_ "frequently during the day parties of tired soldiers, scarcely able to walk, passed on their way from the scene of action to their barracks or their bivouac; wounded men were every now and then brought to the ambulance close by--one a cuirassier, who, as the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and just raised his hand in sign of recognition, which fell again at his side; and, most striking of all, bands of prisoners from among the insurgents!! among them such hideous faces! scarcely human! no one knows whence they come. like the stormy petrel, they only are seen in troubled times. i saw some such in the days of february, but never before, nor afterwards, till now. imagine o. smith, well "made-up" for one of the bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody melodramas--a parisian dandy compared with some of these. some of them naked to the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard matted and of incalculable growth, bloodshot eyes, scowling ferocious brutes, their tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder--creatures to look at and shudder! and into their hands was paris and its peaceable honest inhabitants threatened to fall. with this i end. ever, my dear dickens, cordially and sincerely yours, john poole. "i began this on saturday, and have been writing it, as best as i can, till now, tuesday, three o'clock. pray acknowledge the receipt when or if you receive it. this is a general letter to you all. if forster thinks any paragraph of this worthy the _examiner_, he may use it. why does not the rogue write to me? has he, or can he have, taken huff at anything? though i cannot imagine why or at what. but _nobody_ writes to me. i can and will, some day, tell you a comic incident connected with all this, but it would not have been in keeping with the rest of this letter. paris is now quiet, but very dull." chat no. . "_all round the house is the jet black night; it stares through the window-pane; it crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, and it moves with the moving flame._ _now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum, with the breath of the bogie in my hair; and all round the candle the crooked shadows come and go marching along up the stair._ _the shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, the shadow of the child that goes to bed-- all the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp, with the black night overhead._" --r. l. stevenson. on the beautiful rocks of red head, near arbroath, and surrounded by the glamour of sir walter scott's "antiquary," which was written in the alongside village of auchmithie, and the plot and incidents of which are principally placed here, stands ethie castle, the scotch home of the earls of northesk, and once one of the many residences of cardinal beaton, whose portrait by titian hangs in the hall. many of the quaint old rooms have secret staircases at the bed-heads leading to rooms above or below, and forming convenient modes of escape if the occupants of the middle chambers were threatened with sudden attack. there are also some dungeon-like rooms below, with walls of vast thickness, and "squints" through which to fire arrows or musket-balls. the castle has been greatly improved and partly restored by its last owner, without removing or destroying any of its characteristic points. searching, when a guest there some years ago, amongst the literary and other curious remains, which add a great charm to this most interesting house, the writer was impressed with the following characteristic letter from charles ii. to the then lord northesk, which he was permitted to copy, and now to print. the letter is curious, as showing the evident belief that the king held in his divine right to interfere with his subjects' affairs. it is a holograph, beautifully written in a small clear hand --- not unlike that of w. m. thackeray --- and has been fastened with a seal, still unbroken, no larger than a pea, but which nevertheless contains the crown and complete royal arms, and is a most beautiful specimen of seal-engraving. it would be interesting to know if this seal still exists amongst the curiosities at windsor castle:--- whitehall, _ nov. _. "my lord northesk, i am so much concerned in my l^d balcarriess that, hearing he is in suite of one of your daughters, i must lett you know, you cannot bestow her upon a person of whose worth and fidelity i have a better esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend to you and your lady, your franck compliance with his designe, and as i do realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to do him good as occasion offers, as well for his father's sake as his owne, so if you and your lady condescend to his pretension, and use him kindly in it, i shall take it very kindly at your hands, and reckon it to be done upon the accounte of your affectionate frinde, charles r." _for the_ earle of northesk. looking at the fine portrait of the recipient of this royal request, which hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting expression of the otherwise handsome face, it is not difficult to presume that he somewhat resented this interference with his domestic plans. no copy of lord northesk's reply exists, but its contents may be guessed by the second letter from whitehall, this time written by lord lauderdale:-- whitehall, _ jany. _. "my lord, yesterday i received yours of the th instant, and, according to your desire, i acquainted the king with it. his majesty commanded me to signify to you that he is satisfied. for as he did recommend that marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to both parties, so he did not intend to lay any constraint upon you. therfor he leaves you to dispose of your daughter as you please. this is by his majesty's command signified to your lordship by, my lord, your lordship's most humble servant, lauderdale." earl northesk. as, however, the marriage eventually did take place, let us hope that the young couple arranged it themselves, without any further expression of royal wishes by the evidently well-meaning, if somewhat imperative, king. ethie has, of course, its family legends and ghosts--what old scotch house is without them?--but the following, which i am most kindly permitted to repeat, is so curious in its modern confirmation, that it is well worth adding to the store of such weird narratives. many years ago, it is said that a lady in the castle destroyed her young child in one of the rooms, which afterwards bore the stigma of the association. eventually the room was closed, the door screwed up, and heavy wooden shutters were fastened outside the windows. but those who occupied the rooms above and below this gruesome chamber would often hear, in the watches of the night, the pattering of little feet over the floor, and the sound of the little wheels of a child's cart being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity connected with this sound being, that one wheel creaked and chirruped as it moved. years rolled by, and the room continued to bear its sinister character until the late lord northesk succeeded to the property, when he very wisely determined to bring, if possible, the legend to an end, and probe the ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious base. consequently he had the outside window shutters removed, and the heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then, with some members of his family present, ordered the door to be forced back. when the room was open and birds began to sing, it proved to be quite destitute of furniture or ornament. it had a bare hearth-stone, on which some grey ashes still rested, and by the side of the hearth was a child's little wooden go-cart on four solid wooden wheels! turning to his daughter, my lord asked her to wheel the little carriage across the floor of the room. when she did so, it was with a strange sense of something uncanny that the listeners heard one wheel creak and chirrup as it ran! since then the baby footsteps have ceased, and the room is once more devoted to ordinary uses, but the ghostly little go-cart still rests at ethie for the curious to see and to handle. many friends and neighbours yet live who testify to having heard the patter of the feet and the creak of the little wheel in former days, when the room was a haunted reality, but now the "little feet no more go lightly, vision broken!" [illustration] chat no. "_i work on, through all the bristling fence of nights and days, which hedge time in from the eternities._" --mrs. browning. the late cardinal manning always felt a great interest in our parish of brasted. in former times it formed part of hever chase, the property of sir thomas boleyn (the father of queen anne boleyn), who lived at hever castle, about four miles from brasted, a fine tudor specimen of domestic architecture, which is now somewhat jealously shown to the public on certain days. hever castle is the original of bovor castle, immortalised by mr. burnand in his wonderful "happy thoughts." the cardinal's father, who was at one time an opulent city merchant, and sometime governor of the bank of england, owned the estate of combe bank, formerly the english location of the argyll family, whose duke sat in the house of lords, until quite a recent date, as baron sundridge, the name of the adjacent village. in sundridge church are some family busts of the argylls by mrs. dawson damer, who stayed much at combe bank, and who lies buried with all her graving and sculpting tools in sundridge churchyard. the cardinal and his elder brother, charles manning, passed some youthful years in this house, and when financial trouble overtook their father, and he was obliged to part with the property, it became the ever-present desire and day-dream of the elder son to succeed in life and repurchase the place. he succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a very long and happy one; but he never became the owner of combe bank, the hope to do so only fading with his life. he owned, or leased, a pleasant old house at littlehampton; and if his brother, the cardinal, was in need of rest, he would lend it to him, when the cardinal's method of relaxation was to go to bed in a sea-looking room, and, with window open, read, write, and contemplate for some three or four days and nights, and then arise refreshed like a giant, and return to the manifold duties waiting for him in town. the cardinal's home in london was formerly the guard's institute in the vauxhall bridge road, which, failing in its first intention, was purchased as the palace for the then newly-elected cardinal-archbishop of westminster. it proved to be rather a dreary, draughty, uncomfortable abode, but having the advantage of a double staircase and some large reception rooms, was useful for the clerical assemblies he used to invoke. i had the privilege, without being a member of his church, of being allowed to attend the meetings of the _academia_ which the cardinal held every now and then during the london season. his friends would gather in one of the big rooms a little before eight in the evening, and sit in darkened circles around a small centre table, before which a high-backed carved chair stood. the entire light for the apartment proceeded from two big silver candlesticks on the table. as the clock chimed eight, the cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and skull-cap, would glide into the room, and standing before the episcopal chair, murmur a short latin prayer, after which the discussion of the evening would begin; when all that wished had had their little say, the cardinal replied to the points raised by the various speakers, and closed the debate; after which he held a sort of informal reception, welcoming individually every guest. no one but a rembrandt could give the beautiful effect of the half-lights and heavy black shadows of this striking gathering, with its centre of colour and light in the tall red figure of the cardinal, his noble face and picturesque dress forming a mind-picture which can never fade from the memory. the strong theatrical effect, combined with the real simplicity of the scene, the personal interest of many of those who took part in the discussion, the associations with the past, the speculation whither the innovation of the installation of a roman catholic archbishop in westminster was tending, giving the observer bountiful food for much solemn thought. upon our book-shelves repose four volumes of the cardinal's sermons, preached when a member of the church of england, and archdeacon of chichester. they were bought at bishop wilberforce's sale, who was the cardinal's brother-in-law, and contain the autograph of william wilberforce, the bishop's eldest brother. upon the same shelf will be found a copy of "parochial sermons" by john henry newman, vicar of st. mary the virgin's, oxford. this volume formerly belonged to bishop stanley, and came from the library of his celebrated son, arthur penrhyn stanley, sometime dean of westminster. * * * * * a good book might be written by one who is duly qualified on "the poets who are not read." it would not be flattering to the ghosts of many of the departed great, but there is so much assumption on the part of the general reader, that he knows them all, has read them all, and generally likes them all, which if examined into closely would prove a snare and a delusion, that one is tempted to administer some gentle interrogatories upon the subject. first and foremost, then, who now reads byron? his works rest on the shelves, it is true, but are they ever opened, except to verify a quotation? does the general reader of this time steadily go through "childe harold," "don juan," and his other splendid works. not death but sleep prevails, from which perchance one day he may awake and again enjoy his share of fame and favour. it is the fashion with many persons to express the utmost sympathy with and acute knowledge of the work of robert browning, but we doubt if many of these could pass a civil service examination in the very poems they name so glibly. he is so hard to understand without time and close study, that few have the inclination to give either in these days of pressure, worry, and rush. upon neglected shelves cowper and crabbe lie dusty and unopened--the only person who read crabbe in these days was the late edward fitzgerald; and it is a small class apart that still looks up to wordsworth. the stars of keats and shelley, it is true, are just now in the ascendant, and may so remain for a little while. it is difficult and dangerous, we are told, to prophesy unless we know, but our private opinion is that lord tennyson's fame has been declining since his death, and that a large portion of his poems and all his plays will die, leaving a living residuum of such splendid work as "maud," "in memoriam," and some of his short poems. america has furnished us with dr. oliver wendell holmes, whose charm and finish is likely to continue its hold upon our imagination; then there is the quaker poet whittier, who will probably only live in a song or two; and longfellow, whose popularity has a long time since declined. he once wrote a sort of novel or romance called "hyperion," which showed his reading public for the first time that he was possessed of a gentle humour, which does not often appear in his poems. for instance, one of his characters, by name berkley, wishing to console a jilted lover, says-- "'i was once as desperately in love as you are now; i adored, and was rejected.' "'you are in love with certain attributes,' said the lady. "'damn your attributes, madam,' said i; 'i know nothing of attributes.' "'sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you have been drinking.' "so we parted. she was married afterwards to another, who knew something about attributes, i suppose. i have seen her once since, and only once. she had a baby in a yellow gown. i hate a baby in a yellow gown. how glad i am she did not marry me." the fate of most poets is to be cut up for dictionaries of quotations, for which amiable purpose they are often admirably adapted. chat no. . _"she will return, i know she will, she will not leave me here alone._" staying many years ago in a pleasant country-house, whilst walking home after evening church my host remarked, as we passed in the growing darkness a house from which streamed a light down the path from the front door, "ah! jane has not yet returned." the phrase sounded odd, and when we were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room, he that evening told me the following story, which, however, then stopped midway, but to which i am now able to add the sequel. a certain john manson (the name is, of course, fictitious), an elderly wealthy city bachelor, married late in life a young girl of great beauty, and with no friends or relations. she found her husband's country home, in which she was necessarily much alone, very dull, and she thought that he was hard and unsympathising when he was at home; whereas, although a curt, reserved manner gave this impression, he was really full of love for, and confidence in his young wife, and inwardly chafed at and deplored his want of power to show what his real feelings were. the misunderstanding between them grew and widened, like the poetical "rift within the lute," and soon after the birth of her child, a girl, she left her home with her baby, merely leaving a few lines of curt farewell, and was henceforth lost to him. his belief in her honesty never wavered; and night after night, with his own hand, he lighted and placed in a certain hall-window a lamp which thus illuminated the path to the door, saying, "jane will return, poor dear; and it's sure to be at night, and she'll like to see the light." years passed by, and jane made no sign, the light each evening shining uselessly; and still a stranger to her home, she died, leaving her daughter, now a beautiful girl of twenty, and marvellously like what her mother was when she married. the husband, unaware of the death of his wife, himself came to lay him for the last beneath his own roof-tree, and still his one cry was, "jane will return." it seemed as if he could not pass in peace from this world's rack until it was accomplished--when, lo! a miracle came to pass; for the daughter arrived one evening with a letter from her mother, written when she was dying, and asking her husband's forgiveness, and the light still beamed from the beacon window. the old man was only semi-conscious, and mistaking his child for her mother, with a strong voice cried out, "i knew you'd come back," and died in the moment of the joy of her supposed return. by a curious coincidence, since writing this true story, which was told to me in , some of the incidents, in an altered form, have found a place in mr. ian maclaren's popular book, "beside the bonnie brier bush." it would be interesting to know from whence he drew his inspiration, and whether his story should perchance trace back to a common ancestor in mine. * * * * * a few years ago mr. walter hamilton published, in six volumes, the most complete collection of english parodies ever brought together. amongst others, he gave a vast number upon the well-known poem by charles wolfe of "not a drum was heard." page after page is covered with them, upon every possible subject; but the following one, written by an "american cousin" many years ago, and which was not accessible to mr. hamilton, is perhaps worth repeating and preserving. he called it "the mosquito hunt," and it runs as follows, if my memory serves me faithfully, i having no written note of it:-- "not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum, as around our chamber we hurried, in search of the insect whose trumpet and drum our delectable slumber had worried. we sought for him darkly at dead of night, our coverlet carefully turning, by the shine of the moonbeam's misty light, and our candle dimly burning. about an hour had seemed to elapse, ere we met with the wretch that had bit us; and raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps, which made the mosquito's quietus. quickly and gladly we turned from the dead, and left him all smash'd and gory; we blew out the candle, and popped into bed, and determined to tell you the story!" chat no. . "_the welcome news is in the letter found, the carrier's not commissioned to expound: it speaks itself._" --dryden. a pleasant hour may perhaps be passed in searching through the family autograph-box in the book-room. its contents are varied and far-fetched. a capital series of letters from that best and most genial of correspondents, james payn, are there to puzzle, by their very difficult calligraphy, the would-be reader. mr. payn, a dear friend to foxwold, is now a great invalid, and a brave sufferer, keeping, despite his pain, the same bright spirit, the same brilliant wit, and delighting with the same enchanting conversation. out of all his work, there is nothing so beautiful as his lay-sermons, published in a small volume called "some private views;" and but a little while since he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most affecting study, called "the backwater of life;" it has only up to the present time appeared in the _cornhill magazine_, but will doubtless be soon collected with other work in a more permanent form. it is a pathetic picture of how suffering may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and courage. as mr. leslie stephen well says in his brother's life, "for such literature the british public has shown a considerable avidity ever since the days of addison. in spite of occasional disavowals, it really loves a sermon, and is glad to hear preachers who are not bound by the proprieties of the religious pulpit. some essayists, like johnson, have been as solemn as the true clerical performer, and some have diverged into the humorous with charles lamb, or the cynical with hazlitt."[ ] in mr. payn's lay-sermons we have the humour and the pathos, the tears being very close to the laughter; and they reflect in a peculiarly strong manner the tender wit and delicate fancy of their author. but to return to our autograph-box. here we find letters from such varied authors as josef israels, the dutch painter, hubert herkomer, w. b. richmond, mrs. carlyle, wilkie collins, dean stanley, and a host of other interesting people. perhaps a few extracts, where judicious and inoffensive, may give an interest to this especial chat. the late mrs. charles fox of trebah was in herself, both socially and intellectually, a very remarkable woman. born in the lake country, and belonging to the society of friends, she formed, as a girl, many happy friendships with the wordsworths, the southeys, the coleridges, and all that charmed circle of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings and doings are so full of interest, and so dearly cherished. these friendships she continued to preserve after her marriage, and when she had exchanged her lovely lake home for an equally beautiful and interesting one on the cornish coast, first at perran and afterwards at trebah. one of her special friendships was with hartley coleridge, who indited several of his sonnets to his beautiful young friend. the subjoined letter gives a pleasant picture of his friendly correspondence, and has not been included in the published papers by his brother, the rev. derwent coleridge, who edited his remains. "dear sarah, if a stranger to the fold of happy innocents, where thou art one, may so address thee by a name he loves, both for a mother's and a sister's sake, and surely loves it not the less for thine. dear sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee that i should choose the quaint disguise of verse, and, like a mimic masquer, come before thee to tell my simple tale of country news, or,--sooth to tell thee,--i have nought to tell but what a most intelligencing gossip would hardly mention on her morning rounds: things that a newspaper would not record in the dead-blank recess of parliament. yet so it is,--my thoughts are so confused, my memory is so wild a wilderness, i need the order of the measured line to help me, whensoe'er i would attempt to methodise the random notices of purblind observation. easier far the minuet step of slippery sliding verse, than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose. since you have left us, many a beauteous change hath nature wrought on the eternal hills; and not an hour hath past that hath not done its work of beauty. when december winds, hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves, shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night, 'twas sweet, for watchers such as i, to mark how bright, how very bright, the stars would shine through the deep rifts of congregated clouds; how very distant seemed the azure sky; and when at morn the lazy, weeping fog, long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake, whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun shed on the western hills his rosiest beams, i thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale had lost one heart that could have felt its peace, one eye that saw its beauties, and one soul that made its peace and beauty all her own. one morn there was a kindly boon of heaven, that made the leafless woods so beautiful, it was sore pity that one spirit lives, that owns the presence of eternal god in all the world of nature and of mind, who did not see it. low the vapour hung on the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers the lower regions of the mountainous round; but every summit, and the lovely line of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky boldly defined. the cloudless sun dispelled the hazy masses, and a lucid veil but softened every charm it not concealed. then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side-- young oak, yet laden with sere foliage; larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top and spiney garb of horizontal boughs; the veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined, as if some dæmon dwelt within its trunk, and shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd the holly and the yew, that never fade and never smile; these, and whate'er beside, or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood, clothe the bleak strong girth of silverhow (you know the place, and every stream and brook is known to you) by ministry of frost, were turned to shapes of orient adamant, as if the whitest crystals, new endow'd with vital or with vegetative power, had burst from earth, to mimic every form of curious beauty that the earth could boast, or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes, frozen in an instant----" "so much for verse, which, being execrably bad, cannot be excused, except by friendship, therefore is the fitter for a friendly epistle. there's logic for you! in fact, my dear lady, i am so much delighted, not to say flattered, by your wish that i should write to you, that i can't help being rather silly. it will be a sad loss to me when your excellent mother leaves grasmere; and to-morrow my friend archer and i dine at dale end, for our farewell. but so it must be. i am always happy to hear anything of your little ones, who are such very sweet creatures that one might almost think it a pity they should ever grow up to be big women, and know only better than they do now. among all the anecdotes of childhood that have been recorded, i never heard of one so characteristic as jenny-kitty's wish to inform lord dunstanville of the miseries of the negroes. bless its little soul! i am truly sorry to hear that you have been suffering bodily illness, though i know that it cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. i hope little derwent did not disturb you with his crown; i am told he is a lovely little wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine. i hope he will see his way better with them. derwent has never answered my letter, but i complain not; i dare say he has more than enough to do.[ ] thank you kindly for your kindness to him and his lady. i hope the friendship of friends will not obstruct his rising in the church, and that he will consult his own interest prudently, paying court to the powers that be, yet never so far committing himself as to miss an opportunity of ingratiating himself with the powers that may be. let him not utter, far less write, any sentence that will not bear a twofold interpretation! for the present let his liberality go no further than a very liberal explanation of the words consistency and gratitude may carry him; let him always be honest when it is his interest to be so, and sometimes when it may appear not to be so; and never be a knave under a deanery or a rectory of five thousand a year! my best remembrances to your husband, and kisses for juliet and jenny-kitty, though she did say she liked mr. barber far better than me. i can't say i agree with her in that particular, having a weak partiality for your affectionate friend, hartley coleridge." another friend of the fox family was the late john bright, and the following letter to the now well-known caroline fox of penjerrick will be read with interest:-- torquay, _mo._ , . "my dear friend, i hope the 'one cloud' has passed away. i was much pleased with the earnestness and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask thee for a copy of it, but was afraid to give thee the trouble of writing it out for me. "for myself, i have endeavoured only to speak when i have had something to say which it seemed to me ought to be said, and i did not feel that the sentiment of the poem condemned me. "we had a pleasant visit to kynance cove. it is a charming place, and we were delighted with it. we went on through helston to penzance: the day following we visited the logan rock and the land's end, and in the afternoon the celebrated mount--the weather all we could wish for. we were greatly pleased with the mount, and i shall not read 'lycidas' with less interest now that i have seen the place of the 'great vision.' we found the hotel to which you kindly directed us perfect in all respects. on friday we came from penzance to truro, and posted to st. columb, where we spent a night at mr. northy's--the day and night were very wet. next day we posted to tintagel, and back to launceston, taking the train there for torquay. "we were pressed for time at tintagel, but were pleased with what we saw. "here, we are in a land of beauty and of summer, the beauty beyond my expectation, and the climate like that of nice. yesterday we drove round to see the sights, and w. pengelly and mr. vivian went with us to kent's cavern, anstey's cove, and the round of exquisite views. we are at cash's hotel, but visit our friend susan midgley in the day and evening. to-morrow we start for street, to stay a day or two with my daughter helen, and are to spend sunday at bath. we have seen much and enjoyed much in our excursion, but we shall remember nothing with more pleasure than your kindness and our stay at penjerrick. "elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate remembrance of you, and in the hope that thy dear father did not suffer from the 'long hours' to which my talk subjected him. when we get back to our bleak region and home of cold and smoke, we shall often think of your pleasant retreat, and of the wonderful gardens at penjerrick. believe me, always sincerely thy friend, john bright." _to_ caroline fox, penjerrick, falmouth. there are few men whose every uttered word is regarded with greater respect and interest than mr. ruskin. it is well known that he has always been a wide and careful collector of minerals, gems, and fine specimens of the art and nature world. one of his various agents, through whom at one time he made many such purchases, both for himself and his oxford and sheffield museums, was mr. bryce wright, the mineralogist, and to him are addressed the following five letters:-- brantwood, coniston, lancashire, _ nd may ' _. "my dear wright, i am very greatly obliged to you for letting me see these opals, quite unexampled, as you rightly say, from that locality--but from that locality _i_ never buy--my kind is the opal formed in pores and cavities, throughout the mass of that compact brown jasper--this, which is merely a superficial crust of jelly on the surface of a nasty brown sandstone, i do not myself value in the least. i wish you could get at some of the geology of the two sorts, but i suppose everything is kept close by the diggers and the jews at present. "as for the cameos, the best of the two, 'supposed' (by whom?) to represent isis, represents neither egyptian nor oxonian isis, but only an ill-made french woman of the town bathing at boulogne, and the other is only a 'minerve' of the halles, a _petroleuse_ in a mob-cap, sulphur-fire colour. "i don't depreciate what i want to buy, as you know well, but it is not safe to send me things in the set way 'supposed' to be this or that! if you ever get any more nice little cranes, or cockatoos, looking like what they're supposed to be meant for, they shall at least be returned with compliments. "i send back the box by to-day's rail; put down all expenses to my account, as i am always amused and interested by a parcel from you. "you needn't print this letter as an advertisement, unless you like! ever faithfully yours, j. ruskin." brantwood, _ rd may_. "my dear wright, the silver's safe here, and i want to buy it for sheffield, but the price seems to me awful. it must always be attached to it at the museum, and i fear great displeasure from the public for giving you such a price. what is there in the specimen to make it so valuable? i have not anything like it, nor do i recollect its like (or i shouldn't want it), but if so rare, why does not the british museum take it. ever truly yours, j. ruskin." brantwood, _wednesday_. "my dear wright, i am very glad of your long and interesting letter, and can perfectly understand all your difficulties, and have always observed your activity and attention to your business with much sympathy, but of late certainly i have been frightened at your prices, and, before i saw the golds, was rather uneasy at having so soon to pay for them. but you are quite right in your estimate of the interest and value of the collection, and i hope to be able to be of considerable service to you yet, though i fear it cannot be in buying specimens at seventy guineas, unless there is something to be shown for the money, like that great native silver! "i have really not been able to examine the red ones yet--the golds alone were more than i could judge of till i got a quiet hour this morning. i might possibly offer to change some of the locally interesting ones for a proustite, but i can't afford any more cash just now. ever very heartily yours, j. ruskin." brantwood, _ rd nov. or th (?), friday_. "dear wright, my telegram will, i hope, enable you to act with promptness about the golds, which will be of extreme value to me; and its short saying about the proustites will, i hope, not be construed by you as meaning that i will buy them also. you don't really suppose that you are to be paid interest of money on minerals, merely because they have lain long in your hands. "if i sold my old arm-chair, which has got the rickets, would you expect the purchaser to pay me forty years' interest on the original price? your proustite may perhaps be as good as ever it was, but it is not worth more to me or sheffield because you have had either the enjoyment or the care of it longer than you expected! "but i am really very seriously obliged by the _sight_ of it, with the others, and perhaps may make an effort to lump some of the new ones with the gold in an estimate of large purchase. i think the gold, by your description, must be a great credit to sheffield and to me; perhaps i mayn't be able to part with it! ever faithfully yours, j. ruskin." herne hill, s.e., _ may ' _. "my dear bryce, i can't resist this tourmaline, and have carried it off with me. for you and regent street it's not monstrous in price neither; but i must send you back your (pink!) apatite. i wish i'd come to see you, but have been laid up all the time i've been here--just got to the pictures, and that's all. yours always, (much to my damage!) j. r." footnotes: [ ] "life of sir t. fitzjames stephen," by his brother, leslie stephen. smith, elder & co., . [ ] the rev. derwent coleridge was at the time keeping a school at helston, which was within an easy distance of perran, where mrs. fox was at this time living. chat no. . "_scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair, or wise beyond what other women are._" --dryden. an oval picture that hangs opposite sheridan's portrait is a fine presentment of the marquis de ségur, by vanloo. the marquis was born in , and eventually became a marshal of france, and minister of war to louis xvi. after his royal master's execution he fell into very low water, and it was only by his calm intrepidity in very trying circumstances that he escaped the guillotine. his memoirs have from time to time appeared, generally under the authority of some of his descendants. this interesting portrait belonged to the family of de ségur, and was parted with by the present head of the house to the late mrs. lyne stephens, who gave it to us. the history of this admirable woman is deeply interesting in every detail. she was the daughter of colonel duvernay, a member of a good old french family, who was ruined by the french revolution of . born at versailles in the year , her father had the child named yolande marie louise; and she was educated at the conservatoire in paris, where they soon discovered her wonderful talent for dancing. this art was encouraged, developed, and trained to the uttermost; and when, in due time, she appeared upon the ballet stage, she took the town by storm, and at once came to the foremost rank as the well-known mademoiselle duvernay, rivalling, if not excelling, the two ellsslers, cerito, and taglioni. she made wide the fame of the cachucha dance, which was specially rearranged for her; and the world was immediately deluged with her portraits, some good, some bad, many very apocryphal, and many very indifferent. in one of w. m. thackeray's wonderful "roundabout papers," which perhaps contain some of the most beautiful work he ever gave us, he thus recalls, in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone, his recollections of the great _danseuse_. "in william iv.'s time, when i think of duvernay dancing in as the bayadère, i say it was a vision of loveliness such as mortal eyes can't see nowadays. how well i remember the tune to which she used to appear! kaled used to say to the sultan, 'my lord, a troop of those dancing and singing girls called bayadères approaches,' and to the clash of cymbals and the thumping of my heart, in she used to dance! there has never been anything like it--never." after a few years of brilliant successes she retired from the stage she had done so much to grace and dignify, and married the late mr. stephens lyne stephens, who in those days, and after his good old father's death, was considered one of the richest commoners in england. he died in , after a far too short, but intensely happy, married life; and having no children, left his widow, as far as was in his power, complete mistress of his large fortune. they were both devoted to art, and being very acute connoisseurs, had collected a superb quantity of the best pictures, the rarest old french furniture, and the finest china. the bulk of these remarkable collections was dispersed at christie's in a nine-days'-wonder sale in , and proved the great attraction of the season, buyers from paris, new york, vienna, and berlin eagerly competing with london for the best things. some of the more remarkable prices are here noted, as being of permanent interest to the art-loving world, and testifying how little hard times can affect the sale of a really fine and genuine collection. as a rule, the prices obtained were very far in excess of those paid for the various objects, in many cases reaching four and five times their original cost. a pair of mandarin vases sold for guineas. the beautiful sèvres oviform vase, given by louis xv. to the marquis de montcalm, guineas. a pair of sèvres blue and gold jardinières, - / inches high, guineas. a clock by berthoud, guineas. a small upright louis xvi. secretaire, guineas. another rather like it, guineas. a marble bust of louis xiv., guineas. three sèvres oviform vases, from lord pembroke's collection, guineas. a single oviform sèvres vase, guineas. a pair of sèvres vases, guineas. a very beautiful sedan chair, in italian work of the sixteenth century, guineas. a clock by causard, guineas. a louis xv. upright secretaire, guineas. "dogs and gamekeeper," painted by troyon, guineas. "the infanta," a full-length portrait by velasquez, guineas. a bust of the infanta, also by velasquez, guineas. "faith presenting the eucharist," a splendid work by murillo, guineas. "the prince of orange hunting," by cuyp, guineas. "the village inn," by van ostade, guineas. a fine specimen of terburg's work, guineas. a portrait by madame vigée le brun, guineas. a lovely portrait by nattier, guineas. watteau's celebrated picture of "la gamme d'amour," guineas. a pair of small lancret's illustrations to la fontaine brought respectively guineas and guineas. drouais' superb portrait of madame du barry, guineas; and a small head of a girl by greuze sold for guineas. small pieces of china of no remarkable merit, but bearing a greatly enhanced value from belonging to this celebrated collection, obtained wonderful prices. for example:-- a sang-de boeuf crackle vase, - / inches high, guineas. a pair of china kylins, guineas. a circular pesaro dish, guineas. a pair of sèvres dark blue oviform vases, guineas. three sèvres vases, guineas. two small panels of old french tapestry, guineas. another pair, guineas. a circular sèvres bowl, inches in diameter, guineas. the ormolu ornaments of the time of louis xiv. brought great sums; for instance-- an ormolu inkstand sold for guineas. a pair of wall lights, guineas. a pair of ormolu candlesticks, guineas. another pair, guineas. a pair of ormolu andirons, guineas. little tables of louis xv. period also sold amazingly. an oblong one, - / inches wide, guineas. an upright secretaire, guineas. a small louis xvi. chest of drawers, guineas. a pair of louis xvi. mahogany cabinets, guineas. a pair of louis xvi. bronze candelabra brought guineas; and an ebony cabinet of the same time fetched the extraordinary price of guineas; and a little louis xv. gold chatelaine sold for guineas. the grand total obtained by this remarkable sale, together with some of the plate and jewels, amounted to £ , ! for thirty-four years, as a widow, mrs. lyne stephens administered, with the utmost wisdom and the broadest generosity, the large trust thus placed in her most capable hands. building and restoring churches for both creeds (she being catholic and her late husband protestant); endowing needy young couples whom she considered had some claim upon her, if only as friends; further adding to and completing her art collections, and finishing and beautifying her different homes in norfolk, paris, and roehampton. generous to the fullest degree, she would warmly resent the least attempt to impose upon her. an amusing instance of this occurred many years ago, when one of her husband's relations, considering he had some extraordinary claim upon the widow's generosity, again and again pressed her for large benevolences, which for a season he obtained. getting tired of his importunity, she at last declined to render further help, and received in reply a very abusive letter from the claimant, which wound up by stating that if the desired assistance were not forthcoming by a certain date, the applicant would set up a fruit-stall in front of her then town-house in piccadilly, and so shame her into compliance with his request. she immediately wrote him a pretty little letter in reply, saying, "that it was with sincere pleasure she had heard of her correspondent's intention of pursuing for the first time an honest calling whereby to earn his bread, and that if his oranges were good, she had given orders that they should be bought for her servants' hall!" during the franco-german war of she remained in paris in her beautiful home in the faubourg-saint-honoré, and would daily sally forth to help the sufferings which the people in paris were undergoing. no one will ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice she then made. her men-servants had all left to fight for their country, and she was alone in the big house, with only two or three maids to accompany her. during the commune she continued her daily walks abroad, and was always recognised by the mob as a good frenchwoman, doing her utmost for the needs of the very poor. her friend, the late sir richard wallace, who was also in paris during these troubles, well earned his baronetcy by his care of the poor english shut up in the city during the siege; but although mrs. lyne stephens' charity was quite as wide and generous as his, she never received, nor did she expect or desire it, one word of acknowledgment or thanks from any of the powers that were. she died at lynford, from the result of a fall on a parquet floor, on the nd september , aged , full of physical vigour and intellectual brightness, and still remarkable for her personal beauty; finding life to the last full of many interests, but impressed by the sadness of having outlived nearly all her early friends and contemporaries. she lingered nearly three weeks after the actual fall, during which her affectionate gratitude to all who watched and tended her, her bright recognition when faces she loved came near, her quick response to all that was said and done, were beautiful and touching to see, and very sweet to remember. her last words to the writer of these lines when he bade her farewell were, "my fondest love to my beloved julian;" our invalid son at foxwold, for whom she always evinced the deepest affection and sympathy. in her funeral sermon, preached by canon scott, himself an intimate friend, in the beautiful church she had built for cambridge, to a crowded and deeply sympathetic audience, he eloquently observed: "greatly indeed was she indebted to god; richly had she been endowed with gifts of every kind; of natural character, of special intelligence, of winning attractiveness, which compelled homage from all who came under the charm of her influence; with the result of widespread renown and unbounded wealth.... therefore it was that the blessing of god came in another form--by the discipline of suffering and trial. there was the trial of loneliness. soon bereft, as she was, of her husband, of whose affection we may judge by the way in which he had laid all he possessed at her feet; french and catholic, living amongst those who were not of her faith or nation, though enjoying their devoted friendship. with advancing years, deprived by death even of those intimate friends, she was lonely in a sense throughout her life.... nor must it be omitted that her great gift to cambridge was not merely an easy one out of superfluous wealth, but that it involved some personal sacrifice. friends of late had missed the sight of costly jewels, which for years had formed a part of her personal adornment. what had become of a necklace of rarest pearls, now no longer worn?--they had been sacrificed for the erection of this very church." again, in a pastoral letter by the roman catholic bishop of northampton to his flock, dated the th of november , he says: "we take occasion of this our advent pastoral, to commend to your prayers the soul of one who has recently passed away, mrs. lyne stephens. her innumerable works of religion and charity during her life, force us to acknowledge our indebtedness to her; she built at her sole cost the churches of lynford, shefford, and cambridge, and she gave a large donation for the church at wellingborough. it was she who gave the presbytery and the endowment of lynford, the rectory at cambridge, and our own residence at northampton. by a large donation she greatly helped the new episcopal income fund, and she was generous to the holy father on the occasion of his first jubilee. our indebtedness was increased by her bequests, one to ourselves as the bishop, one for the maintenance of the fabric of the cambridge church, another for the boy's home at shefford, and a fourth to the clergy fund of this diocese. her name has been inscribed in our _liber vitæ_, among the great benefactors whether living or dead, and for these we constantly offer up prayers that god may bless their good estate in life, and after death receive them to their reward." to the inmates of foxwold she was for nearly a quarter of a century a true and loving friend, paying them frequent little visits, and entering with the deepest sympathy into the lives of those who also loved her very dearly. the house bears, through her generosity, many marks of her exquisite taste and broad bounty, and her memory will always be fragrant and beautiful to those who knew her. there are three portraits of her at roehampton. the first, as a most winsome, lovely girl, drawn life-size by a great pastellist in the reign of louis philippe; the second, as a handsome matron, in the happy years of her all too short married life; and the last, by carolus duran, was painted in paris in . this has been charmingly engraved, and represents her as a most lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey hair and large violet eyes, very wide apart. she was intellectually as well as physically one of the strongest women, and she never had a day's illness, until her fatal accident, in her life. her conversation and power of repartee was extremely clever and brilliant. a shrewd observer of character, she rarely made a mistake in her first estimate of people, and her sometimes adverse judgments, which at first sight appeared harsh, were invariably justified by the history of after-events. her charity was illimitable, and was always, as far as possible, concealed. a simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted, generous woman, her death has created a peculiar void, which will not in our time be again filled:-- "for some we loved, the loveliest and the best, that from his vintage, rolling time hath prest, have drunk their cup, a round or two before, and one by one crept silently to rest." the index "_studious he sate, with all his books around, sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound; plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there; then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair._" --pope. america. humours of a voyage to, . baxter, robert. his hospitality, . bedford town and schools, . binders and their work, . bradley, a. g. life of wolfe, . bright, john. letter from, . calverley, c. s., . charles ii. and lord northesk, . christie's. a sale at, . christie's. lyne stephens sale, . coleridge, hartley. letter from, . combe bank, . craze, modern. for work, . cunarder. on board a, . "cynical song of the city," . dickens. on over-work, . dobson, austin, . ethie castle and its ghost story, . fox, caroline. john bright's letter to, . fox, mrs. charles, of trebah, . fox, mrs. charles, and hartley coleridge, . foxwold and its early train, . french revolution of , . gainsborough's portrait of wolfe, . ghost story at ethie, . gosse, edmund. poem by, . grain, r. corney. sketch of, . " " his charity, . " " letter from, . guthrie, anstey. bon-mot of, . hamilton's parodies, . holmes, oliver wendell, . humours of an atlantic voyage, . "jane will return." a true story, . jerrold, douglas. drawing of, . laureateship, the, . lehmann, r. c. poem by, . letter from john bright, . " " hartley coleridge, . " " charles ii., . " " r. corney grain, . " " lord lauderdale, . letter from john poole, . " " john ruskin, . " " g. a. sala, . longfellow. extract from, . lyne stephens, mrs., . " " sketch of her life, . " " her art collections, . " " thackeray's sketch of her, . " " her death, . " " her funeral sermon, . " " great sale at christie's, . lytton, robert, lord. poem by, . manning, cardinal, . manning, charles john, . mayhew, horace, . meadows, kenny. drawing of, . newgate. visit to, . northesk, lord, and charles ii., . parody. an unknown one, . payn, mr. james. his lay-sermons, . poets who are not read, . poole, john. letter from, . portland, duke of, and his books, . portraits of mrs. lyne stephens, . _punch._ memorials of, . " portraits of writers to, . reynolds, sir joshua. portrait by, . ruskin, john. letters from, . sala, g. a. letter from, . " " picture by, . sales at christie's, , . schools, bedford, . ségur, marquis de. portrait of, . sheridan, r. b. portrait of, . stevenson, r. l., . stories. american, . scott, canon. sermon by, . symon, arthur. poem by, . texts, inappropriate, , , . thackeray's description of mrs. lyne stephens, . westerham. birthplace of wolfe, . wolfe, general. portrait of, . woods, mr. thomas h., . work, modern. craze for, . z---- sale of pictures, . * * * * * the reader (_loquiter_). "_glad of a quarrel, straight i clap the door; sir, let me see your works and you no more!_" --pope. +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | in this etext the caret ^ represents a superscript character. | | | | minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. | | | | punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant | | form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. | | | | ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. | | | | mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved to the beginning of | | the chat in which they occurred. the list of illustrations | | paginations were not corrected. | | | | other corrections: | | | | -- page : 'hotel des affaires Étrangers,' changed to 'hôtel des | | affaires Étrangères,' | | -- page : caligraphy changed to calligraphy. | +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ [ transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation; changes (corrections of spelling and punctuation) made to the original text are listed at the end of this file. italic text has been marked with _underscores_. bold text has been marked with =equals signs=. greek text has been transliterated and marked with +plus signs+. ] the story of books the useful knowledge library plant life. by grant allen. architecture. by p. l. waterhouse. the stars. by g. f. chambers, f.r.a.s. the solar system. by george f. chambers, f.r.a.s. forest and stream. by james rodway. the mind. by prof. j. m. baldwin. the religions of the world. by the rev. e. d. price, f.g.s. extinct civilizations of the east. by robert e. anderson, m.a., f.a.s. the chemical elements. by m. m. pattison muir, m.a. a piece of coal. by e. a. martin. the earth in past ages. by h. g. seeley, f.r.s. bird-life. by w. p. pycraft. geographical discovery. by joseph jacobs. primitive man. by edward clodd. thought and feeling. by frederick ryland, m.a. the british race. by john munro. germ life. by h. w. conn. animal life. by b. lindsay. cotton plant. by f. wilkinson, f.g.s. eclipses. by g. f. chambers, f.r.a.s. electricity. by j. munro. weather. by g. f. chambers, f.r.a.s. wild flowers. by rev. prof. henslow. london: hodder and stoughton [illustration: early printers at work.] the story of books by gertrude burford rawlings author of "the story of the british coinage" hodder and stoughton publishers, london contents chap. page i. introductory ii. the preservation of literature iii. books and libraries in classical times iv. books in mediæval times v. libraries in mediæval times vi. the beginning of printing vii. who invented moveable types? viii. gutenberg and the mentz press ix. early printing x. early printing in italy and some other countries xi. early printing in england xii. early printing in scotland xiii. early printing in ireland xiv. book bindings xv. how a modern book is produced postscript index illustrations early printers at work frontispiece page page from the book of kells part of page from the book of kells page from the lindisfarne gospels page from the biblia pauperum type of the mentz indulgence page from the mazarin bible type of the mazarin bible type of the subiaco lactantius type of the aldine virgil, type of caxton's dictes or sayengis of the philosophres, westminster, boys learning grammar caxton's device type of wynkyn de worde's higden's polychronicon, london, myllar's device title page of o'kearney's irish alphabet and catechism upper cover of melissenda's psalter the story of books chapter i introductory the book family is a very old and a very noble one, and has rendered great service to mankind, although, as with other great houses, all its members are not of equal worth and distinction. but since books are so common nowadays as to be taken quite as matters of course, probably few people give any thought to the long chain of events which, reaching from the dim past up to our own day, has been necessary for their evolution. yet if we look round on our bookshelves, whether we measure their contents by hundreds or by thousands, and consider how mighty is the power of these inanimate combinations of "rag-paper with black ink on them," and how all but limitless their field of action, it is but a step further to wonder what the first books were like. given the living, working brain to fashion thoughts and create fancies, to whom did it first occur to write a book, what language and characters and material did he use, when did he write, and what did he write about? and although these questions can never be answered, an attempt to follow them up will lead the inquirer into many fascinating bye-ways of knowledge. it is not, however, the purpose of these pages to deal at length with the ancient history of the _manuscript_ book, but, after briefly noticing the chief links which connect the volumes of to-day with primeval records, to present to the reader a few of the many points of interest offered by the modern history of the _printed_ book. * * * * * =the beginning of writing.=--books began with writing, and writing began at the time when man first bethought himself to make records, so that the progenitor of the beautiful handwriting and no less beautiful print of the civilised world is to be looked for in the rude drawing which primeval man scratched with a pointed flint on a smooth bone, or on a rock, representing the beast he hunted, or perhaps himself, or one of his fellows. the exact degree of importance he attached to these drawings we cannot hope to discover. they may have been cherished from purely æsthetic motives, or they may have served, at times, a merely utilitarian end and acted, perhaps, as memoranda. however this may be, these early drawings are the germs from which sprang writing, the parent of books, and liberator of literature, that great force of which a book is but the vehicle. how these drawings were gradually changed into letters, in other words, the story of the alphabet, has been already told in this series by mr edward clodd, and therefore we need not deal further with the subject here. writing once learned, and alphabets once formulated, the machinery for making books, with the human mind as its mainspring, was fairly in motion. "certainly the art of writing," says carlyle, "is the most miraculous of all things man has devised.... with the art of writing, of which printing is a simple, an inevitable and comparatively insignificant corollary, the true reign of miracles for mankind commenced." that these words only express the feeling of our far away ancestors, a cursory glance into the mythology of various peoples will prove. for wherever there is a tradition respecting writing, that tradition almost invariably, if not always, connects the great invention with the gods or with some sacred person. the egyptians attributed it to thoth, the babylonians and assyrians to nebo, the buddhists to buddha, the greeks to hermes. the scandinavians honoured odin as the first cutter of the mysterious runes, and the irish derived their ogham from the sacred ogma of the tuatha de danaan. and it is noteworthy how, from time immemorial, writing, and the making of books, have been considered high and honourable accomplishments, and how closely they have ever been connected with the holy functions of priesthood. * * * * * =materials for writing and books.=--the early forms of books were various, and, to modern eyes, more or less clumsy. wood or bark was one of the oldest substances used to receive writing. stone was no doubt older still, but stone inscriptions are outside our subject. the early greeks and romans employed tablets of soft metal, and wooden leaves coated with wax, when they had anything to write, impressing the characters with a stilus. thus pausanius relates that he saw the original copy of hesiod's _works and days_ written on leaden tablets. the wooden leaves, when bound together at one side, foreshadowed the form of book which is now almost universal, and were called by the romans _caudex_, or _codex_ (originally meaning a tree-stump), in distinction to the _volumen_, which was always a parchment or papyrus roll. the oldest manuscript in existence, however, is on papyrus, which, as is well known, was the chief writing-material of the ancient world. although the discovery that skins of animals, when properly prepared, formed a convenient and durable writing-material, was made at a very early date, the papyrus held its own as the writing-material of literary egypt, greece, and rome, until about the fourth or fifth century of our era. the books of babylonia and assyria took the form of thick clay tablets of various sizes. the wedge-shaped characters they bore were made by impressing the wet, soft clay with a triangular-pointed instrument of wood, bone, or metal. the tablet was then baked, and as recent discoveries prove, rendered exceedingly durable. it is a matter of conjecture as to whether the form of the original documents of the old testament was that of the babylonian tablets, or of the egyptian papyrus rolls, or of rolls of parchment. perhaps all three were employed by the various biblical writers at different times. it is stretching a point, perhaps, to include among writing materials the tablets of bamboo bark which bore the earliest chinese characters, since the inscriptions were carved. the chinese, however, soon discarded such primitive uses, and the paper which is so indispensable to-day was invented by them at a very early date, though it remained unknown to europe until the arabs introduced it about the tenth century, a.d. one of the earliest extant writings on paper is an arabic "treatise on the nourishment of the human body," written in a.d., but it seems to have been printing which really brought paper into fashion, for paper manuscripts are rare compared with those of parchment and vellum. chapter ii the preservation of literature it is easier to find the beginning of writing than the beginning of literature. although we know for certain that the ancient nations of the world had books and libraries, that they preserved traditions, stored records and knowledge, and assisted memory by means of their tablets, their monuments, and their papyri, we shall probably never know when the art of writing was first applied to strictly literary purposes, and still less likely is it that we shall ever discover when works of the imagination were first recorded for the edification of mankind. it is not very rash, however, to assume that as soon as the art had developed the ancients put it to much the same uses as we do, except, perhaps, that they did not vulgarise it, and no one wrote who had not something to write about. but we are not without specimens of antique literatures. egypt has preserved for us many different specimens of her literary produce of thousands of years ago--historical records, works of religion and philosophy, fiction, magic, and funeral ritual. assyria has bequeathed to us hundreds of the clay books which formed the great royal library at nineveh, books of records, mythology, morals, grammar, astronomy, astrology, magic; books of reference, such as geographical tables, lists of temples, plants, birds, and other things. in the old testament we have all that now remains of israelitish writings, and the early literatures of china and india are also partly known to us. after these the writings of greece and rome are of comparatively recent origin, and moreover, they are nearer to us in other respects besides the merely chronological. the literature of greece, dating from the far homeric age, grew up a strong and beautiful factor in greek life, and rome, drawing first her alphabet and then her literature from the land before which she stooped, even while she conquered it, passed them on as an everlasting possession to the peoples of the western world. the fact of the literary pre-eminence of greece partly helps to explain why greek manuscripts form the bulk of the early writings now extant. in considering how early literature has been preserved, therefore, we are hardly concerned with egyptian papyri or cuneiform tablets, but with the writings of greece and rome, or writings produced under greek or roman influence. and it is curious that while the libraries and books of older nations have survived in comparatively large numbers, there should be no greek literary manuscripts older than about b.c., and even these are very fragmentary and scarce. the earliest latin document known is dated a.d., and is an unimportant wax tablet from pompeii. for this lack of early documents many causes are responsible, and those who remember that it is not human beings only who suffer from the vicissitudes inseparable from existence will wonder, not that we have so few ancient writings in our present possession, but that we have any. the evidence of many curious and interesting discoveries of manuscripts made from time to time goes to show that accident, rather than design, has worked out their preservation, and that the civilised world owes its present store of ancient literature more to good luck than good management, to use a handy colloquialism. it is true, of course, that in early days there were many who guarded books as very precious things, but in times of wars and tumults people would naturally give little thought to such superfluities. fire and war have been the agencies most destructive of books, in the opinion of the author of _philobiblon_, but carelessness and ignorance, wanton destruction and natural decay, are also accountable for some part of the great losses which have wasted so large a share of the literary heritage, and although we are deeply indebted to monastic work for the transmission of classic lore as well as of christian compositions, we can hardly conclude that the monkish scribes wrote solely for the benefit of posterity. their immediate purpose, no doubt, and naturally so, was much narrower, and identified the service of god with the enrichment of their houses. besides, they did not hesitate to erase older writings in order that they might use the parchment again for their own, whenever it suited them to do so. before noting some of the ways by which ancient literature has come down to the present day, let us for a moment transport ourselves into the past, and see how a wealthy roman lover of letters would set about gathering a collection of books. having no lack of means, all that is best in the literary world will be at his service. he will first take care that the works of every greek writer which can possibly be obtained, as well as those of roman authors, are represented in his library by well-written papyrus rolls containing good, correct texts. if he can obtain old manuscripts or original autographs of famous writers, so much the better; but whereas ordinary volumes will cost him comparatively little, on these he must expend large sums. if a book on which he has set his heart is not to be purchased, he may be able to obtain the loan of it, so that it may be transcribed for him by his _librarius_ or writing-slave. if he can neither borrow nor purchase what he desires, he may commission the bookseller to send for it to alexandria, where there is an unrivalled store of books and many skilled scribes ready to make copies of them. but it is not easy to estimate with any degree of certainty the quantity of literary material available, say, at the time of the establishment of the first public library in rome, which was probably about b.c. books were common and booksellers flourished. greek and roman writings were preserved on papyrus, not neglected or lost, and the various parts of what we now call the old testament probably existed in the hebrew synagogues. we may, perhaps, assume that the roman book collector, did he choose to take the necessary trouble, might add to his collection some of the writings of ancient egypt. but no doubt greek and latin authors only are of value in his eyes. at this point it is dangerous to speculate further, and we must leave the imaginary roman, and, advancing to our own time, where we are on surer ground, ask what remnants of old records and literature have come down to us, and how have they been preserved? it will be disappointing news, perhaps, to those to whom the facts are fresh, that no original manuscript of any classical author, and no original manuscript of any part of the bible, old testament or new, has yet come to light. nothing is known of any of these documents except through the medium of copies, and in some cases very many copies indeed intervene between us and the original. for instance, the oldest homeric manuscript known, with the exception of one or two fragments, is not older than the first century b.c., and the most ancient biblical manuscript known, a fragment of a psalter, is assigned to the late third or early fourth century a.d. the earliest new testament manuscript extant, the first leaf of a book of st matthew's gospel, is also no older than the third century. it is curious, too, that no ancient greek manuscripts have been found either in greece or italy excepting some rolls discovered in the ruins of herculaneum. one reason for this is no doubt the fact that when roman armies assailed athens and other greek cities they despoiled them not only of their statues and works of art, but of their books as well. these went to furnish the libraries of rome, though it is probable that certain of them found their way back to greece in company with some of rome's own literary produce when constantine set up his capital and founded a library at byzantium. another means by which greek manuscripts left the country was afforded by the eagerness of ptolemy ii. to extend the great library of alexandria, to which end he bought books in all parts of greece, and particularly in athens and rhodes. the roman libraries did not survive the onslaughts of the barbarians, who seem to have carried out a very thorough work of destruction in the eternal city. but it is not unlikely that in some cases books, among other portable treasures, were carried away when their owners sought refuge in less troubled localities, such as constantinople or alexandria. still, the fact remains that the contents of the roman libraries have disappeared, and that for the ancient manuscripts now in our possession we are indebted to the tombs, the temples, the monasteries, and the sands of egypt. sometimes--to show the strange adventures of some of these manuscripts--the cartonnage cases in which mummies of the later period were enclosed, were made of papyrus documents, which apparently had been treated as waste paper and put to all sorts of undignified uses. the two oldest classical papyri known, consisting of fragments of plato's _phoedo_ and of the _antiope_ of euripides, were recovered from mummy-cases, and are supposed to date from the third century b.c. other important greek texts which have been preserved by egypt are aristotle's _constitution of athens_, the _mimes_ of herodas, the _odes_ of bacchylides, the _gospel_ and _apocalypse_ of peter, the book of enoch, &c. but here we have to take into consideration a new and important factor in literary as in other matters--the spread of christianity. with such obvious exceptions as the cuneiform records, or the egyptian writings, and similar remains, the bulk of the manuscripts (as manuscripts, not as compositions) is the work of (christian) religious houses, and it is easy to see that we owe much to the labours of the monks and ecclesiastics who have transmitted to us not only the earliest and most valuable works of the church's own writers, but also the chief part of the literature of greece and rome. as mr falconer madan says in his _books in manuscript_, "the number and importance of the mss. of virgil and the four gospels is greater than of any other ancient authors whatever," and it is safe to assume that all these gospel mss., and perhaps all the virgil mss. also, were the handiwork of churchmen. as an example of the manuscript treasures yielded by egypt may be instanced the find at behnesa, a village standing on the site of the roman city of oxyrhynchus, one of the chief centres of early christianity in egypt. here, in , mr b. p. grenfell and mr a. s. hunt, searching for papyri on behalf of the egypt exploration fund, lighted upon one of the richest hunting-grounds yet discovered. the result of their excavations was that about boxes of manuscripts were brought to england, while of the best rolls were left at the cairo museum. i am unable to give the size of the boxes, but professor flinders petrie's statement that "the publication of this great collection of literature and documents will probably occupy a decade or two, and will place our knowledge of the roman and early christian age on a new footing," will testify to the extent and importance of the find. in this collection the document which excited most interest was a papyrus leaf bearing some scraps of greek, to which the name of +logia iÊsou+, or sayings of our lord, has been given. this leaf is at present assigned to a date between and a.d. the logia are eight in number, and while three of them are closely similar to certain passages in the gospels, the rest are new. another valuable document was the fragment of st matthew's gospel alluded to above, which, written in the third century, is a hundred years older than any new testament manuscript hitherto known. classical documents also were found in great numbers, and included a new _ode_ of sappho, which, however, is unfortunately imperfect. it was transcribed probably about the third century a.d. many coptic, syriac, and arabic manuscripts have been recovered from the numerous monasteries of palestine, asia minor, and egypt. several travellers who have managed to overcome the suspicion of the monks and their unwillingness to open their literary hoards to strangers, or to part with any of the volumes, have found immense numbers of books hidden under dust and rubbish in vaults and cellars or stowed away in chests, where they were probably thrust at some time when danger threatened them. books written in these monasteries themselves in earlier days, or brought thither from other monasteries further east, have thus lain forgotten or neglected for centuries, or, if they were noticed at all, it was only that they might be put to some ignoble use. thus some were found acting as covers to two large jars which had formerly held preserves. "i was allowed to purchase these vellum manuscripts," says the author of _monasteries of the levant_, "as they were considered to be useless by the monks, principally, i believe, because there were no more preserves in the jars." in another case some large volumes were found in use as footstools to protect the bare feet of the monks from the cold stone floor of their chapel. as we have already seen, christian scribes not only preserved the writings of the fathers of the church, as well as the holy scriptures, but also directed much of their attention to the classic works of poetry and philosophy. in every monastery from ireland to asia minor, from seville to jerusalem, the work of transcribing and transmitting sacred and secular literature was carried on, and had we at the present day one half of the fruits of this labour we should be rich indeed. but we have also seen that many causes have contributed to the destruction of old writings, of which carelessness and ignorance are by no means the least. the well-known story of tischendorf's discovery of the oldest copy of the new testament in existence,[ ] in a basket of fuel at a monastery near mount sinai is but a single example, and that a modern one, of the dangers to which these ancient books were liable, and to which they too often fell victims. the danger was long ago recognised, however, and a canon of the third council of constantinople, held in a.d., enacted "that nobody whatever be allowed to injure the book of the old and new testament, or those of our holy preachers and doctors, nor to cut them up, nor to give them to dealers in books, or perfumers, or any other person to be erased, except they have been rendered useless by moths or water or in some other way. he who shall do any such thing shall be excommunicated for one year." the same council also ordered the burning of heretical books. [ ] the codex sinaiticus, now at st petersburg. with the revival of learning in the fourteenth century there came an awakened interest in ancient writings. they were eagerly sought for in the monasteries of europe, and the learned of italy were especially instrumental in recovering the neglected classical works. it has been said that almost all the classical authors were discovered or rediscovered either in italy or through the researches of italians. petrarch, with whose name the renaissance is inseparably associated, and a contemporary of our richard de bury, took great pains to form a collection of the works of cicero, whose _epistles_ he was fortunate enough to rescue from destroying oblivion. he tells us that when he met strangers, and they asked him what he desired from their country, he would reply, "nothing, but the works of cicero." he also sent money to france, germany, spain, greece, and england that these books might be bought for him, and if while travelling he came across any ancient monastery he would turn aside and explore its book treasures. poggio bracciolini, a learned italian of the fifteenth century, has also made himself famous by his ardent pursuit of the remains of classical literature, and by aiding the interest in them which the renaissance had awakened. he searched europe for manuscripts to such good purpose that he unearthed a valuable text of quintilian's _institutes_, "almost perishing at the bottom of a dark neglected tower," in the monastery of st gall, and recovered many other classical writings by his industry, including some of the _orations_ of cicero; lucretius; manilius, and others. he also rescued the writings of tertullian. we may perhaps believe that even by this time the surviving treasures of the old storehouses of literature have not yet been all brought to light. renan discovered in the large collection of manuscripts still preserved in the monastery of monte casino in italy, some unpublished pages of abelard's _theologia christiana_, and other valuable finds besides, and it is quite possible that many more surprises are awaiting an enterprising and diligent searcher. but although the monasteries had so large a share in the work of the preservation of literature, the monks themselves wrought harm as well as good, for in their zeal to record sacred compositions they frequently destroyed older and often more valuable documents by scraping off the original writing and substituting other. this was done for economy's sake, when writing material was costly, and parchments thus treated are known as palimpsests. owing to this reprehensible practice, many literary treasures have been irretrievably lost. our anglo-saxon literature, for instance, is not represented by any contemporary copies. the anglo-norman writers had a contempt for the old english manuscripts, and turned them into palimpsests without the slightest idea that there could be any value in them, and attached far more importance to the writing they themselves were about to make. thus it happens that we are in the same position with regard to anglo-saxon literature as with regard to classical authors. no original documents exist, and it is known to us solely through copies, single copies, in most cases. beowulf, for instance, is represented only by a manuscript of the first half of the eleventh century, and caedmon by a manuscript of the tenth century. with the invention and spread of the knowledge of printing, however, the risk of loss was greatly reduced. such ancient writings as came into the printer's hands were given a fresh lease of life which in many cases was of indefinite length, or rather, of practically eternal duration. but the fact of being printed was not invariably a safeguard. some of the works of the early printers have disappeared completely, and many are represented only by single copies. the strange history of the british museum copy of the famous _book of st albans_, will serve to show the vicissitudes with which the relics of the past have to contend in their journey down the ages. at the end of the last century the library of an old lincolnshire house was overhauled by someone who disdainfully turned out of it all unbound books, and had them destroyed. a few of the condemned books, however, were begged by the gardener. among them was the book of st albans. at the gardener's death his son threw away some of the rescued volumes, but kept the "book." at the son's death, his widow sold such books as he had left, to a pedlar, for the sum of ninepence. the pedlar re-sold them to a chemist in gainsborough for shop-paper, but observing the strange wood-cuts in the "book," the chemist offered it to a stationer for a guinea. the stationer would not purchase, but said he would display it in his window as a curiosity. here it attracted attention, and five pounds was offered for it by a gentleman in the neighbourhood. the stationer, finding the volume an object of desire, gave the chemist two pounds for it and eventually sold it to a bookseller for seven guineas. of this bookseller the right hon. thomas grenville bought it for seventy pounds, and bequeathed it to the british museum with the rest of his magnificent library. this story i give on the authority of mr blades, who also, to instance the way in which books travel about and turn up in odd places, relates that a brother of bishop heber's, who had been for years seeking for a book printed by colard mansion, but without success, one day received a fine copy from the bishop, who had bought it from a native on the banks of the ganges. chapter iii books and libraries in classical times in literary greece and rome, so far as we can tell from the somewhat meagre information handed down to us, literature was pursued for her own sake, and filthy lucre did not enter into the calculations of authors, who appear to have been satisfied if their works met with the approval of those who were competent to judge of them. literature walked alone, and had not as yet entered into partnership with commerce. the writing of books for pecuniary profit is a wholly modern development, and even now it is more often an aspiration than a realisation. in those days, when an author desired to make known a work, he would read it aloud to an invited party of friends. this reading of original compositions became in time a common item of the programme provided by a host for the entertainment of his guests, and it is not difficult to imagine that such a custom was often subjected to grave abuse, from the guests' point of view. later, the private reading developed into the public lecture. lectures of this kind became very frequent in rome, and we are told that it was looked upon as a sort of festival when a fashionable author announced a reading. but we are also told that some of the audience often treated a lecturer of mediocre merit with scant courtesy, entering late and leaving early, and frequently they who applauded most were those who had listened least. the public reading is recorded of a poem composed by nero. it was read to the people on the capitol, and the manuscript, which was written in letters of gold, was afterwards deposited in the temple of jupiter capitolinus. if a work happened to attract attention by reason of its author's reputation or its own merit, it was copied by students or others who had heard and admired it. this was the only way in which literary productions could be dispersed and made known to the public at large, or a collection of books be gathered together. as the literary taste developed, those who were sufficiently wealthy kept slaves whose sole business it was to copy books, which books might be either the original works of their master, who by this means disseminated his compositions, or the works of others, for the benefit of their master's library. these slaves, being of necessity well educated and skilful scribes, were purchased at high prices and held in great esteem by their owners. but obviously it was only the rich who could command such service, and ordinary folk had to resort to the bookseller. the booksellers of athens and rome were those who made copies of books, or employed slaves to make them, and sold or let them on hire to those who had need of them. the author had no voice in these matters. there was nothing to prevent anyone who borrowed or otherwise got possession of his work from making copies of the manuscript if he chose, and making money from the copies if he could. "copyright" was a word unknown in those days, and for centuries after. the booksellers advertised their wares by notices affixed to the door-posts of their shops, giving the names of new or desirable works, and sometimes read these works aloud to their friends and patrons. their shops were favourite places of resort for persons of leisure and literary tastes. copyists of books retained a high place in the order of things literary until the introduction of printing, and without their labours we should know nothing of ancient literature, seeing that no original manuscript of any classical author has survived. and apart from its purely literary value, which is variable, the work of the early mediæval scribes in many instances reaches a high artistic standard, and exhibits marvellous skill in an accomplishment now numbered among the lost arts. on the subject of libraries, as on all literary matters in ancient times, hardly any solid information is available. but we know that egypt was to the fore in this respect as in so many others. yet of all the collections of books which, since they are frequently alluded to in the inscriptions, she undoubtedly possessed, stored in her kings' palaces and her temple archives, there is only one which is mentioned in history, and that by a single historian. according to diodorus siculus, this library was made by osymandyas, who was king of egypt at a date which has not been precisely determined. he tells us that its entrance exhibited the inscription: "place of healing for the soul," or, as it has been variously rendered, "balsam for the soul," or, "dispensary of the mind." although doubt has been thrown on the perfect accuracy of the historian in introducing the name of osymandyas in this connection, modern egyptologists have identified the plan of the library with a hall of the great "palace temple" of rameses ii., the "ramesium" or "memnonium" at thebes. the door-jambs of this hall utter their own testimony to its ancient use, for they bear the figures of thoth, the god of writing, and saf, a goddess who is accompanied by the titles "lady of letters" and "presider over the hall of books." astle, in _the origin and progress of writing_, says that the books and colleges of egypt were destroyed by the persians, but matter, on the other hand, in _l'École d'alexandrie_, declares that the temple archives were in existence in the greek and roman periods. probably astle's statement is not intended to be as sweeping as it appears. babylonia and assyria also had their libraries. according to professor sayce (_the higher criticism and the monuments_) they were "filled with libraries, and the libraries with thousands of books." the royal library already referred to as furnishing so rich a treasure of cuneiform tablets, was begun by sennacherib, who reigned - b.c., and completed by assur-bani-pal, who reigned about - b.c. there were libraries, too, in palestine, in early days, but we know nothing of them. they may have been archives or places where records were kept, rather than libraries as we understand the term. the name of kirjath-sepher, a city near hebron, means "city of books," and survives from pre-israelitish times. by the jews, records and "the book of the law" were preserved in the temple. almost as scanty are the accounts of the libraries of ancient greece. the tyrant pisistratus, - b.c., has been credited, traditionally, with the establishment in athens of the first public library, but although he encouraged letters and the preservation of literature there is no good reason for accepting the tradition as authentic. but of all libraries those of alexandria were the largest and most celebrated, and yet, notwithstanding their eminence, the accounts relating to them are confused and contradictory. alexandria, which, although situated in egypt, was a greek and not an egyptian city, was founded by alexander the great in b.c., and rapidly rose to a high position. its buildings, its learning, its luxury, and its books, became world-famous. the first library was established by ptolemy soter, a ruler of literary tastes, about b.c., and was situated in that part of the city known as the bruchium. copyists were employed to transcribe manuscripts for the benefit of the institution, and it is said that under ptolemy euergetes all books brought into egypt were seized and sent to the library to be transcribed. the copies were returned to the owners, whose wishes were evidently not consulted, in place of the originals, which went to enrich the store in the great library. ptolemy philadelphus is said to have supplemented soter's library by another, which was lodged in the temple of serapis, but it has been conjectured, with more probability, that the serapeum collection began with the temple archives, to which the ptolemies made additions from time to time; these additions, as some have affirmed, including part of aristotle's library. but here, also, contradictions are encountered, and it seems impossible to say exactly whether this statement refers to aristotle's autograph writings, or to copies of them, or to manuscripts of other authors' works formerly in his possession. it was ptolemy philadelphus, we are told by galen, who gave the athenians fifteen talents, a great convoy of provisions, and exemption from tribute, in exchange for the autographs and originals of the tragedies of Æschylus, sophocles, and euripides. two other libraries also helped to make up the glory of alexandria; one in the sebasteum, or temple of augustus, and one in connection with the museum. the latter, however, was a much later foundation. the museum or university itself, had been instituted by ptolemy soter, and though it was quite distinct from the library which is associated with his name, there was doubtless some relationship between the two. her museum and libraries, and the encouragement she offered to learning, combined to set alexandria at the head of the literary world, and to make her "the first great seat of literary hellenism" (jebb). she was also the centre of the book industry, that is, of the reproduction of books, as distinguished from their first production. this was owing in a large measure to the number of professional copyists attracted by the facilities afforded to them, and to the fact that the papyrus trade had its headquarters here. another famous library of this period was that of the kings of pergamus, founded by attalus i., who reigned from to b.c. between pergamus and alexandria there was vigorous competition. in the end, however, alexandria had the satisfaction of seeing her rival completely humbled, for antony presented the books of pergamus, stated to have been about two hundred thousand in number, to cleopatra, who added them to alexandria's treasures. at least, so says plutarch, but plutarch's authority for the statement was calvisius, whose veracity was not above suspicion. how the enormous accumulation of manuscripts gathered by alexandria came to perish so utterly is not clear. the romans accidentally fired the bruchium when they reduced the city, but according to several accounts there were still a goodly number of books remaining at the time of the saracen invasion in a.d. the story of the caliph omar's reply to a plea for the preservation of the books is well known. "if they contain anything contrary to the word of god," he is reported to have said, "they are evil; if not, they are superfluous," and forthwith he had them distributed among the four thousand baths of the city, which they provided with fuel for six months. but several authorities doubt this story, and assert that long before omar's time the alexandrian libraries had ceased to exist. though very far from being as full as could be wished, the accounts of libraries in rome are more numerous than any relating to libraries in other parts of the ancient world. besides the collections of books made by private persons, which in one or two instances were generously opened to the public by the owner, there were the imperial libraries, and the more strictly public libraries. among the emperors whose names are especially associated with the gathering and preservation of books are augustus, tiberius and trajan. julius cæsar had formed a scheme for the establishment of a public library, but it is not clear whether it was ever carried out or no. domitian, to replace the library in the capitol, which had been destroyed, sent scholars abroad to collect manuscripts and to copy some of those at alexandria. under constantine the roman public libraries numbered twenty-nine, and were very frequently lodged in the temples. last in point of date come the libraries of byzantium, the city which the emperor constantine in a.d. made the capital of the eastern portion of the empire, and named after himself. he at once began to gather books there, and his successors followed his example. thus various libraries were established, and those which survived the fires which occurred from time to time in the city, existed until its capture by the turks in . on this occasion, and also after the assault by the crusaders in , the libraries probably suffered. it is said, too, by some that leo iii. wantonly destroyed a large number of books, but the assertion cannot be proved. among the lost treasures of constantinople was "the only authentic copy" of the proceedings of the council of nice, held in a.d. to deal with the arian heresy. the ultimate fate of the imperial library at constantinople yet remains a problem. some are of opinion that it was destroyed by amurath iv., and that none but comparatively unimportant arabic and other oriental manuscripts make up the sultan's library. some believe that, in spite of repeated assertions to the contrary on the part of turkish officials and others, there somewhere lies a secret hoard, neglected and uncared for, perhaps, but nevertheless existent, of ancient and valuable greek manuscripts. the seraglio has usually been considered to be the repository of this hoard, and access to the seraglio is very difficult and almost impossible to obtain. in the year professor carlyle, during his travels in the east, took enormous pains and used every means in his power to reach the bottom of the mystery surrounding the seraglio treasures. he was assured by every turkish officer whom he consulted on the subject that no greek manuscripts existed there; and when by dint of influence in high quarters and much patience and perseverance he at length gained permission to examine the seraglio library, he found that it consisted chiefly of arabic manuscripts, and contained not a single greek, latin, or hebrew writing. the library, or such part of it as the professor was shown, was approached through a mosque, and consisted of a small cruciform chamber, measuring only twelve yards at its greatest width. one arm of the cross served as an ante-chamber, and the other three contained the book-cases. the books were laid on their sides, one on the other, the ends outward. their titles were written on the edges of the leaves. the result of the professor's researches went to confirm the belief held by so many that no greek manuscripts had survived. on the other hand, the jealousy and suspicion of the turks would render it at least possible that despite the apparent straightforwardness with which mr carlyle was treated, there were stores of manuscripts which were kept back from him. a final touch of mystery was given to this fascinating subject by a tradition concerning a certain building in constantinople which had been closed up ever since the time of the turkish conquest in the fifteenth century. of the existence of this building professor carlyle was certain. the tradition asserted that it contained many of the former possessions of the greek emperors, and among these possessions professor carlyle expected that the remains of the imperial library would be found, if such remains existed. of other libraries of olden times, such as those of antioch and ephesus, or those in private possession in the country houses of italy and gaul, and which perished at the hands of the barbarians, it is not necessary to speak more fully. it is sufficient to point out that they existed, and that though we possess few details as to their furniture or arrangement, we are justified in concluding that the latter, at any rate, were luxuriously appointed. it must not be inferred, however, that all the books which disappeared from these various centres were of necessity destroyed. many, and particularly some of the byzantine manuscripts, were dispersed over europe, and survive to enrich our libraries and museums of to-day. chapter iv books in mediÆval times the books of the middle ages are a special subject in themselves, since they include all the illuminated manuscripts of ireland, england and the continent. we can therefore do little more than indicate their historical place in the story of books. we have only to look at a mediæval illuminated manuscript to understand how books were regarded in those days, and with what lavish expenditure of time and skill the quaint characters were traced and the ornaments designed and executed. and having looked, we gather that books, being rare, were appreciated; and being sacred, were reverenced; and that it was deemed a worthy thing to make a good book and to make it beautiful. sometimes the monkish artist's handiwork had a result not foreseen by him, for we read that when st boniface, the saxon missionary who gave his life to the conversion of germany, wrote to ask the abbess eadburga for a missal, he desired that the colours might be gay and bright, "even as a glittering lamp and an illumination for the hearts of the gentiles." it is easy to imagine how the brilliant pages would attract the colour-loving barbarians, and prepare the way for friendly advances. it is probable that the custom of ornamenting books with drawings was derived from the egyptians by the greeks, and from the greeks by the romans, among whom decorated books were common, although they are known to us chiefly by means of copies preserved in byzantine and italian manuscripts of a more recent period. these, and a few examples dating from the time of constantine, exhibit a style evidently derived from classical models. a survey of mediæval books properly begins with the early irish manuscripts, which stand at the head of a long and glorious line stretching, chronologically, from the seventh century of our era to the fifteenth. although it is not known where the art was born to which these wonderful productions of celtic pen-craft owe their origin, it is ireland, nevertheless, which has provided us with the earliest and finest examples of this work, the marvels of skill and beauty which, summed up, as it were, in the book of kells, the book of durrow, and others, set the irish manuscripts beyond imitation or rivalry. [illustration: page from the book of kells (_reduced._)] [illustration: part of page from the book of kells (_exact size._)] most of these books are psalters, or gospels, in latin, while the remainder consist of missals and other religious compilations, and of them all the book of kells is the most famous. it was written in the seventh century, and probably indicates the highest point of skill reached by the irish artist-scribes, or as regards its own particular style of ornamentation, by any artist-scribes whatever. it is a book of the gospels written (in latin) on vellum, and the size of the volume, of the writing, and of the initial letters is unusually large. the leaves measure ½ x ½ inches. the illustrations represent various incidents in the life of christ, and portraits of the evangelists, accompanied by formal designs. ornamentation is largely introduced into the text, and the first few words of each gospel are so lavishly decorated and have initial letters of such size that in each case they occupy the whole of a page. the book just described was preserved at kells until the early part of the seventeenth century. it then passed into archbishop ussher's possession, and finally into the library of trinity college, dublin, where it is now treasured. of course it is impossible to give here a reproduction of a page of this marvellous book in its proper size and colours. our illustrations, however, may convey a little idea of the accuracy and minuteness of the work, which, it is hardly necessary to say, was done entirely by hand, and will serve as a text for a brief summary of the chief features of irish book art. the design here shown is composed of a diagonal cross set in a rectangular frame, having in each angle a symbol of one of the four evangelists. the colours in this design, as reproduced by professor westwood in his _miniatures and ornaments of anglo-saxon and irish manuscripts_, principally consist of red, dark and light mauve, green, yellow, and blue-grey. the animals depicted are quaint, but not ridiculous, and the figure of st matthew, in the upper angle of the cross, though stiff and ungraceful, is less peculiar than other figures in the book. the irish artist was always more successful in designing and executing geometrical systems of ornamentation than in representing living figures. the interlacing, which forms a large part of the design under consideration, is a characteristic of celtic work. the regularity with which the bands pass under and over, even in the most complicated patterns, is very remarkable, and errors are rarely to be detected. the spirals which occupy the four panels at the ends and sides of the frame are also typical of this school of art. the firmness and accuracy of their drawing testify to the excellent eyesight as well as to the steady hand and technical skill of the artist. the prevailing feature of celtic ornament as shown in illuminated manuscripts is the geometrical nature of the designs. the human figure when introduced into the native irish books is absurdly grotesque, for its delineation seems to have been beyond the artist's skill, or, more correctly, to have lain in another category, and to have belonged to a style distinct from that in which he excelled. at a later period, figure drawing became a marked characteristic of english decorated manuscripts, and english artists attained to a high degree of skill in this branch of their art. bright colours were employed in the irish manuscripts, but gold and silver are conspicuous by their absence, and did not appear in the manuscripts of these islands until celtic art had been touched by continental influence. the tradition that the book of kells was written by the great st columba himself, reminds us that at this period nearly all books were the handiwork of monks and ecclesiastics, and in all monasteries the transcribing of the scriptures and devotional works was part of the established order of things. columba, we know, was a famous scribe, and took great pleasure in copying books. he is said to have transcribed no less than three hundred volumes, and all books written by him were believed to be miraculously preserved from danger by water. as an instance of this, adamnan relates the following story:-- "a book of hymns for the office of every day in the week, and in the handwriting of st columba, having slipt, with the leathern satchel which contained it, from the shoulder of a boy who fell from a bridge, was immersed in a certain river in the province of the lagenians (leinster). this very book lay in the water from the feast of the nativity of our lord till the end of the paschal season, and was afterwards found on the bank of the river" uninjured, and as clean and dry as if it had never been in the water at all. "and we have ascertained as undoubted truth," continues adamnan, "from those who were well informed in the matter, that the like things happened in several places with regard to books written by the hand of st columba;" and he adds that the account just given he received from "certain truthful, excellent, and honourable men who saw the book itself, perfectly white and beautiful, after a submersion of so many days, as we have stated." by irish missionaries the art of book writing was taught to britain, chiefly through the school of lindisfarne, where was produced the famous lindisfarne gospels, or book of st cuthbert. this magnificent work, which is one of the choicest treasures of the british museum, was as highly esteemed by its contemporaries as by ourselves, though perhaps not for quite the same reasons. tradition has it that when lindisfarne was threatened by the northmen and the monks had to fly, they took with them the body of st cuthbert, in obedience to his dying behest, and this book. they attempted to seek refuge in ireland, but their boat had scarcely reached the open sea when it met a storm so violent that through the pitching of the little vessel the book fell overboard. sorrowfully they put back, but during the night st cuthbert appeared to one of the monks and ordered him to seek for the book in the sea. on beginning their search, they found that the tide had ebbed much further than it was wont to do, and going out about three miles they came upon the holy book, not a whit the worse for its misadventure. "by this," says the old historian, "were their hearts refreshed with much joy." and the book was afterwards named in the priory rolls as "the book of st cuthbert, which fell into the sea." [illustration: page from the lindisfarne gospels (_reduced._)] this notable volume is an excellent example of celtic book art in the beginning of its transition stage, a stage which marks the approach to the two schools which were the result of the combination of celtic and continental influences in the hands of intelligent and skilful anglo-saxon scribes--the hiberno-saxon and the english schools. it contains the four gospels written in latin, and arranged in double columns, each gospel being preceded by a full-page formal design of celtic work and a full-page portrait of the evangelist. the conjunction of these two distinct styles of ornament forms one of the chief points of interest in the book. the formal designs of interlaced, spiral, and key patterns, so characteristic of celtic work, show its near kinship to the irish books, while the portraits prove an almost equally close connection with roman and byzantine models. there is reason to believe that the classical element is due to the influence of an italian or byzantine book or books brought to lindisfarne by theodore, archbishop of canterbury, and his friend adrian, an italian abbot, when the archbishop visited the island for the purpose of consecrating aidan's church. the lindisfarne gospels accompanied st cuthbert's body to durham in , but rather more than a century later was restored to lindisfarne, and remained there until the monastery which had replaced st aidan's foundation was dissolved at the reformation. it is then lost sight of until it reappears in the famous cotton library, with which it is now possessed by the nation. the english school of illumination had its chief seat at winchester. its work is characterised by its figure drawing, and while the foliage ornament introduced, together with the gold which was largely used in the winchester manuscripts, indicate continental influence, the interlaced and other patterns are derived from the irish school. of this class of manuscript the benedictional of Æthelwold, in the duke of devonshire's library, may serve as a typical example. it was written for Æthelwold, bishop of winchester, by his chaplain godemann, towards the end of the tenth century. were it practicable to offer the reader a reproduction of one of its pages, it would be seen that it exactly illustrates what has just been said. its figure drawing and foliated ornamentation are among its most striking features. the norman conquest opened up the english school of art more widely to continental influence, with the result that towards the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth centuries the english manuscripts were unsurpassed by any in europe. as a typical specimen of the illuminations of this period, we may with propriety select one which has been described by sir edward maunde thompson as "the very finest of its kind," and "probably unique in its combination of excellence of drawing, brilliance of illumination, and variety and extent of subjects." it is a psalter dating from the fourteenth century, and known as queen mary's psalter, because a customs officer of the port of london, who intercepted it as it was about to be taken out of the country, presented it to the queen in . this magnificent book is now in the british museum. during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries a large number of bibles and psalters were written, and made up the greater part of the book-output of the larger monasteries, to which we are indebted for all our fine pieces of manuscript work. indeed, most of the decorated manuscripts of this period are occupied with the scriptures, services, liturgies, and other matters of the kind, and on such the best work was lavished. later, however, the growing taste for romances and stories induced a corresponding tendency to decorate these secular manuscripts too, and some very fine work of this class was produced, especially in france. the books of the chronicles of england and of france, written in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, were also largely adorned with painted miniatures. nearly all the writing of europe was done in the religious houses. in most of the larger monasteries there was a scriptorium, or writing-room, where bibles, psalters, and service books, and patristic and classical writings were transcribed, chronicles and histories compiled, and beautiful specimens of the illuminator's art carefully, skilfully, and lovingly executed. books, however, were not only written in the monasteries, but read as well. the rule of st benedict insisted that the steady reading of books by the brethren should form part of the daily round. archbishop lanfranc, also, in his orders for the english benedictines, directed that once a year books were to be distributed and borrowed volumes to be restored. for this purpose, the librarian was to have a carpet laid down in the chapter house, the monks were to assemble, and the names of those to whom books had been lent were to be read out. each in turn had to answer to his name, and restore his book, and he who had neglected to avail himself of his privilege, and had left his book unread, was to fall on his face and implore forgiveness. then the books were re-distributed for study during the ensuing year. this custom was generally followed by all the monasteries of lanfranc's time. richard aungervyle, bishop of durham, born in at bury st edmund's, and therefore usually known as richard de bury, gives a vivacious picture of the attitude of a book-lover of the middle ages in his _philobiblon_, or _lover of books_. he there sings the praises of books, and voices their lament over their ill-treatment by degenerate clerks and by the unlearned. he also tells how he gathered his library, which was then the largest and best in england. _philobiblon_ is written in vigorous and even violent language, and is worth quoting. books, according to this extravagant eulogy, are "wells of living water," "golden urns in which manna is laid up, or rather, indeed, honeycombs," "the four-streamed river of paradise, where the human mind is fed, and the arid intellect moistened and watered." "you, o books, are the golden vessels of the temple, the arms of the clerical militia, with which the missiles of the most wicked are destroyed, fruitful olives, vines of engedi, fig-trees knowing no sterility, burning lamps to be ever held in the hand." then the books are made to utter their plaint because of the indignity to which they are subjected by the degenerate clergy. "we are expelled from the domiciles of the clergy, apportioned to us by hereditary right, in some interior chamber of which we had our peaceful cells; but, to their shame, in these nefarious times we are altogether banished to suffer opprobrium out of doors; our places, moreover, are occupied by hounds and hawks, and sometimes by a biped beast: woman, to wit ...; wherefore this beast, ever jealous of our studies, and at all times implacable, spying us at last in a corner, protected only by the web of some long-deceased spider, drawing her forehead into wrinkles, laughs us to scorn, abuses us in virulent speeches, points us out as the only superfluous furniture in the house, complains that we are useless for any purpose of domestic economy whatever, and recommends our being bartered away forthwith for costly head dresses, cambric, silk, twice-dipped purple garments, woollen, linen, and furs." after this terrible picture of feminine ignorance and malevolence, it is refreshing to turn to the achievements of the pious diemudis, by way of contrast. diemudis was a nun of wessobrunn in bavaria, who lived in the eleventh century. nuns are not often referred to as writers, but of this lady it is recorded that she wrote "in a most beautiful and legible character" no less than thirty-one books, some of which were in two, three, and even six volumes. these she transcribed "to the praise of god, and of the holy apostles peter and paul, the patrons of this monastery." although the greater part of the book-writing of this time was done in the monasteries and by monks and ecclesiastics, there were also secular professional writers, a class who had followed this occupation from very early days. they consisted of antiquarii, librarii, and illuminators, though sometimes the functions of all three were performed by one person. they were employed chiefly by the religious houses, to assist in the transcription and restoration of their books, and by the lawyers, for whom they transcribed legal documents. the antiquarii were the highest in rank, for their work did not consist merely of writing or copying, but included the restoration of faulty pages, the revision of texts, the repair of bindings, and other delicate tasks connected with the older and more valuable books which could not be entrusted to the librarii or common scribes. on the whole, the production of books was more of an industry in those days than we should believe possible, unless we admit that the dark ages were not quite as dark as they have been painted. "there was always about us in our halls," says richard de bury, who no doubt was a munificent patron of all scribes and book-workers, "no small assemblage of antiquaries, scribes, bookbinders, correctors, illuminators, and generally of all such persons as were qualified to labour in the service of books." books of a great size were frequently monuments of patience and industry, and sometimes half a lifetime was devoted to a single volume. books therefore fetched high prices, though they were not always paid for in money. in the prior of st swithun's, winchester, gave the canons of dorchester in oxfordshire, for bede's homilies and st augustine's psalter, twelve measures of barley, and a pall on which was embroidered in silver the history of st birinus' conversion of the saxon king cynegils. a hundred years later a bible "fairly written," that is, finely written, was sold in this country for fifty marks, or about £ . at this period a sheep cost one shilling. in the time of richard de bury a common scribe earned a halfpenny a day. about some of the expenses attending the production of an _evangeliarium_, or book of the liturgical gospels, included thirteen and fourpence for the writing, four and threepence for the illuminating, three and fourpence for the binding, and tenpence a day for eighteen weeks, in all fifteen shillings, for the writer's "commons," or food. the book-writers or copyists became, later, the booksellers, very much as they did in old rome. sometimes they both wrote and sold the books, and sometimes the sellers employed the writers to write for them, or the writers employed the sellers to sell for them. publishers as yet did not exist. practically the only method of publication known consisted of the reading of a work on three days in succession before the heads of the university, or other public judges, and the sanctioning of its transcription and reproduction. the booksellers were called "stationers," either because they transacted their business at open stalls or stations, or perhaps from the fact that _statio_ is low latin for _shop_; and since they were also the vendors of parchment and other writing-materials, the word "stationer" is still used to designate those who carry on a similar trade to-day. as early as there was already formed in london a society or brotherhood "of the craft of writers of text-letter," and "those commonly called 'limners,'" or illuminators, for in that year they petitioned the lord mayor for permission to elect wardens empowered to see that the trades were honourably pursued and to punish those of the craft who dealt disloyally or who rebelled against the wardens' authority. this petition was granted. by the company of stationers was established, and it is highly probable that this was only the brotherhood of text-writers and limners under the more general designation. the well-known names of paternoster row, amen corner, ave maria lane, and creed lane still remain to show us where the london stationers who sold the common religious leaflets and devotional books of the day had their stalls, close to st paul's cathedral, and in some cases even against the walls of the cathedral itself, and where, too, the makers of beads and paternosters plied their trade. and londoners at least will not need to be reminded that at this very moment paternoster row is almost entirely inhabited by sellers of books, religious and otherwise. there is also a queer open-air stall on the south side which serves to carry on the ancient tradition of the place. societies similar to that of the text-writers and limners of london also existed on the continent, and especially at bruges, in which city literature and book-production flourished under the patronage of philippe le bon, duke of burgundy, who himself gave constant employment to numerous writers, copyists, translators, and illuminators in the work of building up his famous library. the members of the guild of st john the evangelist in bruges represented no less than fifteen different trades or professions connected with books and writing. they included: booksellers, printsellers, painters of vignettes, painters, scriveners and copiers of books, schoolmasters and schoolmistresses, illuminators, printers, bookbinders, curriers, cloth shearers, parchment and vellum makers, boss carvers, letter engravers, figure engravers. of course, the printers here mentioned would at first be block-printers only, as will be shown presently. and it is worth noticing that in all this long list, which cannot be called at all exclusive, there is no mention of authors. the mediæval booksellers were not all permitted to ply their trade in their own way. since the supply of books for the students depended on them, the universities of paris, oxford, and elsewhere deemed it their duty to keep them under control, having in view the maintenance of pure texts and the interests of the students, at whose expense the booksellers were not to be permitted to fatten. by the rules of the university of paris the bookseller was required to be a man of wide learning and high character, and to bind himself to observe the laws regarding books laid down by the university. he was forbidden to offer any transcript for sale until it had been examined and found correct; and were any inaccuracy detected in it by the examiner, he was liable to a fine or the burning of the book, according to the magnitude of his error. the price of books was also fixed by the university, and the vendor forbidden to make more than a certain rate of profit on each volume. again, the bookseller could not purchase any books without the sanction of the university, for fear that he might be the means of disseminating heretical or immoral literature. later, it was made obligatory on him to lend out books on hire to those who could not afford to buy them, and to expose in his shop a list of these books and the charges at which they were to be had. the poor booksellers, thus hedged about with restrictions, often joined some other occupation to that of selling manuscripts in order to make both ends meet, but when this practice came to the notice of the university they were censured for degrading their noble profession by mixing with it "vile trades." but presumably no such rules as the above hampered the booksellers of non-university towns, such as london. the control assumed by the universities over the book trade presently extended to interference with original writings and a censorship of literature. with the introduction of printing and the consequent increase of books and of the facilities for reproducing them this censorship was taken up by the church. ecclesiastical censorship, however, was not the outcome of the universities' assumption of control over the book trade. it sprang from the jealousy of the clergy, who opposed the spread of knowledge among the people--some, perhaps, because they knew that knowledge in ignorant hands is dangerous, and others because they feared their own prestige might suffer. this feeling existed before printing, though printing brought it to a head. for instance, in the penalty in this country for reading the scriptures in the vernacular was forfeiture of land, cattle, body, life, and goods by the offenders and their heirs for ever, and that they should be condemned for heretics to god, enemies to the crown, and most errant traitors to the land. they were refused right of sanctuary, and if they persisted in the offence or relapsed after a pardon were first to be hanged for treason against the king and then burned for heresy against god. thus the clergy upheld and encouraged a censorship of the press. as early as conrad de homborch, a cologne printer, had issued a bible accompanied by canons, etc., which was "allowed and approved by the university of cologne," and in the archbishop of mentz issued a mandate forbidding the translation into the vulgar tongue of greek, latin, and other books, without the previous approbation of the university. finally, in , a bull of leo x. required bishops and inquisitors to examine all books before they came to be printed, and to suppress any heretical matter. the vicar of croydon, preaching at st paul's cross about the time of the spread of the art of printing, is said to have declared that "we must root out printing or printing will root out us." but an ecclesiastical censorship over the english press was not established until , when an injunction issued by queen elizabeth provides that, because of the publication of unfruitful, vain, and infamous books and papers, "no manner of person shall print any manner of boke or paper ... except the same be first licenced by her maiestie ... or by .vi. of her privy counsel, or be perused and licensed by the archbysshops of cantorbury and yorke, the bishop of london," etc. the injunction extended also to "pampheletes, playes, and balletes," so that "nothinge therein should be either heretical, sedicious, or vnsemely for christian eares." classical authors, however, and works hitherto commonly received in universities and schools were not touched by the injunction. chapter v libraries in mediÆval times during the rule of the arabs in northern africa and in spain, thousands of manuscripts were gathered together in their chief cities, such as cairo and cordova, and many arabic-spanish and moorish writings have been preserved in the escurial library, though a large part of this library was burnt in . with these exceptions, the collections of books belonging to the various religious houses were practically the only libraries of early mediæval times. these collections, to begin with, were very small; so small, indeed, that there was no need to set apart a special room for them. library buildings were not erected till the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, when the accumulation of books rendered them necessary, and those which are found in connection with old foundations will always prove to have been added later. it is said, however, that gozbert, abbot of st gall in the ninth century, who founded the library there by collecting what was then the large number of four hundred books, allotted them a special room over the scriptorium. but as a rule the books were kept in the church, and then, as the number increased, in the cloisters. the cloister was the common living-room of the monks, where they read and studied, and carried out most of their daily duties. the books were either stored in presses, though no such press remains to show us upon what pattern they were built, or in recesses in the wall, probably closed by doors. two of these recesses may be seen in the cloisters at worcester. in cistercian houses, says mr j. w. clark, to whose rede lecture ( ) i am indebted for these details, this recess developed "into a small square room without a window, and but little larger than an ordinary cupboard. in the plans of clairvaux and kirkstall this room is placed between the chapter-house and the transept of the church; and similar rooms, in similar situations, have been found at fountains, beaulieu, tintern, netley, etc." the books were placed on shelves round the walls. when the cloister windows came to be glazed, so as to afford better protection from the weather for the persons and things within the cloister, they were occasionally decorated with allusions to the authors of the books in the adjacent presses. sometimes _carrells_ were set up in the cloister, a carrell being a sort of pew, in which study could be conducted with more privacy than in the open cloister. the carrell was placed so that it was closed at one end by one of the cloister windows and remained open at the other. examples still survive at gloucester. the arrangement of the libraries which were subsequently added to most of the larger monasteries in the fifteenth century is unknown, as none of the furniture or fittings seem to have come down to the present day either in this country or in france or italy. but mr clark thinks that the collegiate libraries will give us the key to the plan of the monastic libraries, since the rules relating to the libraries of oxford and cambridge were framed on those which obtained in the "book-houses" of the religious foundations. from these collegiate libraries we gather that it was customary to chain the books, so that they might be accessible to all and yet secure from those who might wish to appropriate them temporarily or otherwise. the shelf to which the volumes were fastened took the form or an "elongated lectern or desk," at which the reader might sit. pembroke college and queens' college, cambridge, had desks of this type, which was also in use on the continent. in some places the desks were modified by the addition of shelves above or below. mr falconer madan, in his _books in manuscript_, quotes the following account, which he translates from the latin register of titchfield abbey, written at the end of the fourteenth century, and which shows the care and method with which the books were kept: "the arrangement of the library of the monastery of tychefeld is this:--there are in the library of tychefeld four cases (_columnæ_) in which to place books, of which two, the first and second, are in the eastern face; on the southern face is the third, and on the northern face the fourth. and each of them has eight shelves (_gradus_), marked with a letter and number affixed on the front of each shelf.... so all and singular the volumes of the said library are fully marked on the first leaf and elsewhere on the shelf belonging to the book, with certain numbered letters. and in order that what is in the library may be more quickly found, the marking of the shelves of the said library, the inscriptions in the books, and the reference in the register, in all points agree with each other. anno domini, mcccc." then is shown the order in which the books lie on the shelves. briefly, the sequence of subjects and books is as follows:--bibles, bibles with commentary, theology, lives of saints, sermons, canon law, commentaries on canon law, civil law, medicine, arts, grammar, miscellaneous volumes, logic and philosophy, english law, eighteen french volumes, and a hundred and two liturgical volumes. titchfield abbey owned altogether over a thousand volumes. the monastic librarian, as we should call him, was known as the _armarius_, since he had charge of the _armaria_ or book-presses. he frequently united this office to that of precentor or leader of the choir, for at first the service-books were his chief care. it was his business to make the catalogue, to examine the volumes from time to time to see that mould or book-worms or other dangers were not threatening them, to give out books for transcription, and to distribute the various writing-materials used in the scriptorium or writing-room. he had also to collate such works as were bound to follow one text, such as bibles, missals, monastic rules, etc. to these duties he often added that of secretary to the abbot and to the monastery generally. many catalogues of monastic libraries are extant, and several belonging to continental foundations were compiled at a very early period. of the library of st gall, founded by the abbé gozbert in , a contemporary catalogue still exists. the st gall library contained four hundred volumes, a large number for those days, and, moreover, was provided with a special room, a chamber over the scriptorium. it is not easy to see why in this and other cases of the co-existence of a library and a scriptorium one room was not made to do duty for both. but to return to the catalogues. another early example is that of the abbey of clugni, in france, made in , and forming part of an inventory of the abbey property. the benedictine abbey of reichenau, on the rhine, had four catalogues compiled in the ninth century--two of the books in the library, one of certain transcriptions made and added thereto, and one of additions to the library from other sources. among english monastic book-lists, there is one of whitby abbey, which appears to have been made in , and the library of glastonbury abbey, which excited the wonder and admiration of leland, and which was started by st dunstan round a nucleus of a few books formerly brought to the abbey by irish missionaries, was catalogued in or . catalogues of the books at canterbury (christ church and st augustine's monastery), peterborough, durham, leicester, ramsey, and other foundations are also known, and these, with the notices of leland, form our only sources of information as to these various literary storehouses. as regards their contents, the scriptures, missals, service-books, and similar manuscripts formed the larger part of the monastic libraries, but besides these they included copies of patristic and classical works, devotional and moral writings, lives of saints, chronicles, books on medicine, grammar, philosophy, logic, and, later, romances and fiction were admitted into this somewhat austere company. the catalogue of the "boc-house" of the monastery of st augustine at canterbury, written towards the close of the fifteenth century, names many romantic works, including the _four sons of aymon_, _guy of warwick_, _the book of lancelot_, _the story of the graal_, _sir perceval de galois_, _the seven sages_, and others, and of some of these there is more than one copy. books were frequently lent to other monasteries, or to poor clerks and students. it was considered a sacred duty thus to share the benefits of the books with others; but sometimes the custodians of the precious volumes, aware of the failures of memory to which book-borrowers have ever been peculiarly liable, were so averse from running the risk of lending that the libraries were placed under anathema, and could not be lent under pain of excommunication. but the selfishness and injustice of such a practice being recognised, it was formally condemned by the council of paris in , and the anathemas annulled. anathemas were also pronounced against any who should steal or otherwise alienate a book from its lawful owners. but as even in mediæval days there were those who loved books better than honesty, the loan of a volume was accompanied by legal forms and ceremonies, and the borrower, whatever his station or character, had to sign a bond for the due return of the work, and often to deposit security as well. thus, when about the dean of york presented several bibles for the use of the students of oxford, he did so on condition that those who used them should deposit a cautionary pledge. again, in , john de pontissara, bishop of winchester, borrowed from the convent of st swithun the _bibliam bene glossatum_, i.e. the bible with annotations, and gave a bond for its return. and in , when books had become much more common, no less a person than the king of france, desiring to borrow some arabian medical works from the faculty of medicine at paris, had not only to deposit some costly plate as security, but to find a nobleman to act as surety with him for the return of the books, under pain of a heavy forfeit. many of the great monastic libraries owed their origin to the liberality of one donor, usually an ecclesiastic. among other libraries destroyed by the danes was the fine collection of books at wearmouth monastery, made by benedict biscop, the first english book collector, who was so eager in the cause of books that he is said to have made no less than five journeys to rome in order to search for them. part of his library was given to the abbey at jarrow, and shared the same fate as the books at wearmouth. one of the earliest english libraries was that of christ church, _i.e._ the cathedral, at canterbury. on the authority of the canterbury book, a fifteenth century manuscript preserved at cambridge, this library began with the nine books said to have been brought from rome by st augustine. these nine books were a bible in two volumes, a psalter, a book of gospels, the lives of the apostles, the lives of the martyrs, and an exposition of the gospels and epistles. this collection was enriched by the magnificent scriptural and classical volumes brought from the continent by archbishop theodore in the seventh century. under archbishop chicheley, in the fifteenth century, this library was provided with a dwelling of its own, built over the prior's chapel, and containing sixteen bookcases of four shelves each. at this time a catalogue was already in existence, made by prior eastry at the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth century, and records about three thousand volumes. the monastery of st mary's at york owned a library which was founded by archbishop egbert. egbert's pupil alcuin, whom charlemagne charged with the care of the educational interests of his empire, soon after taking up his residence at st martin's at tours, desired the emperor to send to britain for "those books which we so much need; thus transplanting into france the flowers of britain, that the garden of paradise may not be confined to york, but may send some of its scions to tours." richard de bury, the famous old book collector or bibliomaniac to whom reference has already been made, bequeathed his books, which outnumbered all other collections in this country, to the university of oxford, where they were housed in durham college, which he had endowed. he has left an interesting account of how he gathered his treasures, which may fitly be quoted here. aided by royal favour, he tells us, "we acquired a most ample facility of visiting at pleasure and of hunting as it were some of the most delightful coverts, the public and private libraries both of the regulars and the seculars.... then the cabinets of the most notable monasteries were opened, cases were unlocked, caskets were unclasped, and astonished volumes which had slumbered for long ages in their sepulchres were roused up, and those that lay hid in dark places were overwhelmed with a new light.... thus the sacred vessels of science came into the power of our disposal, some being given, some sold, and not a few lent for a time." the embassies with which he was charged by edward iii. gave him opportunity for hunting continental coverts also. "what a rush of the flood of pleasure rejoiced our hearts as often as we visited paris, the paradise of the world!... there, in very deed, with an open treasury and untied purse-strings, we scattered money with a light heart, and redeemed inestimable books with dirt and dust." richard de bury also furthered his collection by making friends of the mendicant friars, and "allured them with the most familiar affability into a devotion to his person, and having allured, cherished them for the love of god with munificent liberality." the affability and liberality of the good bishop attained their object, and the devoted friars went about everywhere, searching and finding, and whenever he visited them, placed the treasures of their houses at his disposal. although the mendicant orders were originally forbidden property of any kind, this rule was afterwards greatly relaxed, especially as regards books, and in richard de bury's time the friars had amassed large libraries and were well-known as keen collectors. in france it was not an uncommon practice for a monastery to levy a tax on its members or its dependent houses for the increase of its library, and in several houses it was customary for a novice to present writing materials at his entry and a book at the conclusion of his novitiate. as early as the close of the eleventh century marchwart, abbot of corvey in north germany, made it a rule that every novice on making his profession should add a book to the library. the monastic libraries met their doom at the time of the reformation and of the suppression of the religious houses. nearly all the books at oxford, including the gifts of richard de bury, were burnt by the mob, and under elizabeth the royal commissioners ordered the destruction of all "capes, vestments, albes, missals, books, crosses, and such other idolatrous and superstitious monuments whatsoever." since those who ought to have been more enlightened classed missals and books among idolatrous and superstitious monuments, it is not to be wondered at that the ignorant and undiscriminating mob should glory in their wanton destruction. books that escaped the fire or the fury of the mob were put to various uses as waste paper. they were employed for "scouring candlesticks and cleaning boots," for the wrapping up of the wares of "grocers and soap-sellers," and were exported by shiploads for the use of continental bookbinders. on the continent, too, fire, wars, plunder, and suppression dispersed or destroyed many of the monastic collections. a comparatively recent instance of book destruction caused by the fury of the rabble is afforded by the great losses undergone by bristol cathedral library in the riots which took place in connection with the passing of the reform bill. the palace was set on fire, and the library, which was lodged in the chapter-house, was brought out and most of the volumes hurled into the flames. others were thrown into the river, into ditches, and about the streets, and although about eleven hundred were subsequently recovered from second-hand clothes dealers and marine stores, only two copies and one set remained intact. as a natural consequence of the revival of learning in the fourteenth century, private libraries began to increase in size and in number, and the collection of books was no longer left to monks and priests. king john of france gathered a little library, some say of only twenty volumes, which laid the foundation of the great royal library, now the bibliothèque nationale. these he bequeathed to his son, charles v., who increased the number to nine hundred, for his known fondness for books and reading obtained for him presentation volumes from many of his subjects. his books included works of devotion, astrology, medicine, law, history, and romance, with a few classical authors. most of them were finely written on vellum, and sumptuously bound in jewelled and gold-bedecked covers. they were lodged in three rooms in the louvre, in a tower called "la tour de la libraire." these rooms had wainscots of irish [bog?] oak, and ceilings of cypress "curiously carved." according to henault, the library of the louvre was sent to england by the duke of bedford while regent of france, and only a few volumes afterwards found their way back to paris. one of the finest libraries of this period was possessed by philippe le bon, duke of burgundy. it contained nearly two thousand volumes, mostly magnificent folios clothed in silk and satin, and ornamented with gold and precious stones. books were now the fashion, the fashionable possessions, the fashionable gifts, among those who were wealthy enough to afford them. louis de bruges, seigneur de la gruthyse, was another famous collector, whose books were no less splendid in their size, beauty and costliness, than those of the duke of burgundy. his collection was afterwards added to the royal library, and some of its treasures still exist in the bibliothèque nationale. the rich and cultured of italy were also busily collecting books and forming libraries. a library was made by cardinal bessarion at a cost of thirty thousand sequins, and afterwards became the property of the church of st mark at venice. venice already possessed a small collection of books given to it by petrarch, but the gift was so little thought of that it lay neglected in the palazzo molina until some of the volumes had crumbled to powder, and others had petrified, as it were, through the damp. of english collectors of this period richard de bury was the most famous. as has already been stated, he possessed the largest number of books in the country, and these he bequeathed to the university of oxford. the aungervyle library, as it was called, was destroyed at the reformation. guy de beauchamp, earl of warwick, also had a very fine collection. he preferred romances, however, to theology or law, and his library contained many such works. at his death he bequeathed it to the abbey of bordesley, in worcestershire. the english kings had not as yet paid much attention to books. eleven are mentioned in the wardrobe accounts as belonging to edward i., and not until the time of henry vii. was any serious consideration given to the formation of the royal library. among the more famous continental book collectors of a later period were matthias corvinus, king of hungary, and frederick, duke of urbino. the library of the king of hungary perhaps excelled all others in its size and splendour. it is said to have contained nearly fifty thousand volumes, but only a comparatively small number survived the barbarous attack of the turks, who stole the jewels from the bindings and destroyed the books themselves. the duke of urbino's library was scarcely less magnificent, and was distinguished by its completeness. all obtainable works were represented, and no imperfect copies admitted. the duke had thirty-four transcribers in his service. after the monastic libraries had been destroyed, and when old ideas were beginning to give place to new, the restrictions formerly placed on the reading of the scriptures by the people at large were withdrawn. in an injunction, dated , elizabeth ordered that the people were to be exhorted to read the bible, not discouraged, and she directed the clergy to provide at the parish expense a book of the whole bible in english within three months, and within twelve months a copy of erasmus' paraphrases upon the gospels, also in english. these books were to be set up in the church for the use and reading of the parishioners. the chain is not mentioned in the injunction, but was probably adopted as a matter of course. chained books in churches thus became common, and besides the bible, very generally included copies of fox's _book of martyrs_ and jewel's _apology for the church of england_. the chained books at st luke's, chelsea, consist of a vinegar bible, a prayer book, the homilies, and two copies of the _book of martyrs_. the custom of chaining books, as we have seen, was followed in the college libraries, and obtained also in church libraries in england and on the continent. among the still existing libraries whose books are thus secured are those of hereford cathedral and wimborne minster in england, and the church of st wallberg at zutphen, in holland. the last, however, was not always chained, and thereby hangs a tale. once upon a time the devil, having a spite against the good books of which it was composed, despoiled it of some of its best volumes. the mark of his cloven hoof upon the flagged floor gave the clue to the identity of the thief, whereupon the custodians of the books had them secured by chains sprinkled with holy water, by which means the malice of the evil one was made of none effect. chapter vi the beginning of printing the germs of the invention which, in spite of carlyle's somewhat slighting reference, has proved itself hardly less momentous in the world's history than the conception of the idea of writing, are to be found in the stamps with which the ancients impressed patterns or names upon vases or other objects, or in the device and name-bearing seals which were in common use among the nations of antiquity. but these stamps and seals could be used only to impress some plastic material, not to make ink or other marks upon paper; and for the first example of printing, as we understand the word, we must look to china, where, it is said, as early as the sixth century, a.d., engraved wooden plates were used for the production of books. the chinese, however, kept their invention to themselves, or at any rate it spread no further than japan, until many years later; and although in the tenth century the knowledge of printing was carried as far as egypt, europeans seem to have made the discovery for themselves, quite independently of help from the east, both as regards block-printing and the use of moveable type. in europe, as in china, the first printing was done by means of a block, that is, a slab of wood on which the design was carved in relief, and from which, when inked, an impression could be transferred to paper or other material. this process is known as block-printing, and in europe was principally used for the production of illustrations, the text, which came to be added later, being accessory and subordinate to the picture. the first european block-prints are pictures of saints, roughly printed on a leaf of paper and usually rudely coloured. heinecken, whose _idée general d'une collection complette d'estampes_ ( ) is still a standard work, is of opinion that pictures of this class were first executed by the old makers of playing-cards, and that the playing-cards themselves were printed from wood and not drawn separately by hand. in this case the cards should rank as the earliest examples of block-printing, or wood-engraving. heinecken has not been alone in entertaining this opinion, but, on the other hand, there are some who consider that the portraits represent the first woodcuts, and that the early playing-cards were drawn and painted by hand. the single-leaf portraits of saints were produced chiefly, or perhaps solely, in germany, and examples are now rare. it is curious that most of those which have survived to the present day have been found in german religious houses, pasted inside the covers of old books, and thus shielded from the destruction to which their fragile nature rendered them liable. one specimen, which has the reputation of being the earliest extant with which a date can be connected, is the well-known st christopher, which represents the saint carrying the child christ over a stream, after an old legend. this specimen bears the date , and was discovered pasted in the cover of a mediæval manuscript in the monastery at buxheim, in swabia, and is now in the john rylands library at manchester. the date, however, may be only that of the engraving of the block, and not the year of printing. a theory was put forward by mr h. f. holt, at the meeting of the british archaeological association in , that this st christopher, so far from being the earliest known specimen of printing of any sort, belonged to a period subsequent to the invention of typography, and that the date refers only to the jubilee year of the saint, and not to the execution of the print. he also held that the block-books, to which we refer below, were not the predecessors of type-printed books, as they are usually considered to be, but merely cheap substitutes for the costly works of the early printers. but these theories, though not disproved, do not receive the support of bibliographers in general. another early woodcut is the brussels print, which is in the royal library at brussels. it is ostensibly dated , but although this date is accepted by some, it has most probably been tampered with, and therefore the position of the print is at least doubtful. it is of flemish origin, and represents the virgin and child, accompanied by ss. barbara, catharine, veronica and margaret. other prints exist which are not dated, and it is quite possible that some of these may be older than the st christopher, though no definite statements as to their date can be made. it is certain, however, that the art of block-printing was known in the closing years of the fourteenth century, and that it was practised thenceforward until about , that is, some years after the invention of typography. in many manuscripts of the period, printed illustrations were inserted by means of blocks, either to save time, or because the scribe's skill did not extend to drawings. these early woodcuts were the forerunners of the better known block-books, which also, according to heinecken, were at first the work of the card-makers. block-books consisted of prints accompanied by a descriptive or explanatory text, both text and illustration being printed from the same block. since they were intended for the moral instruction of those whose education did not fit them for the study of more elaborate works, they generally deal with scriptural and religious subjects. the earliest of all the block-books was the _biblia pauperum_, or "bible of the poor," so called because it was designed for the edification of persons of unlearned minds and light purses, who could neither have afforded the high prices demanded for ordinary manuscript copies, nor have read such copies had they owned them. the _biblia pauperum_, however, exactly met their want. it is not so much a book to read, as a book to look at. it has a text, it is true, but the text is subordinate to the pictures. the _biblia pauperum_ is on paper, as paper was cheaper than vellum and considered quite good enough for the purpose. one side only of each leaf was printed, two pages being printed from one block, and the sheets folded once and arranged in sequence, not "quired" or "nested." the resulting order was that of two printed pages face to face, followed by two blank pages face to face. the illustrations are of scenes from sacred history, and portraits of biblical personages, accompanied by explanatory latin or german texts in gothic characters. the original designer and compiler of this favourite block-book is unknown, but he certainly worked on lines laid down by some much older author and artist, for manuscript works of similar nature existed at least as early as the beginning of the fourteenth century. the earliest known instance of a composition of the kind, however, is a series of enamels on an antependium or altar-frontal in the st leopold chapel at klosterneuburg, near vienna, which originally contained forty-five pictures dealing with biblical subjects, arranged in the same order as in the _biblia pauperum_, and which were executed by nicolas de verdun, in . some attribute the inception of the _biblia pauperum_ to ansgarius, first bishop of hamburg, in the ninth century, others to wernher, a german monk of the twelfth century, but it seems unlikely that the point will ever be decided. the _biblia pauperum_ is usually supposed to have been first printed xylographically in holland, and type-printed editions were issued later from bamberg, paris and vienna. to modern eyes the illustrations of this book are strange and wonderful indeed. "the designer certainly had no thought of irreverence," says de vinne, "but many of the designs are really ludicrous. some of the anachronisms are: gideon arrayed in plate-armour, with mediæval helmet and visor and turkish scimitar; david and solomon in rakish, wide-brimmed hats bearing high, conical crowns; the translation of elijah in a four-wheeled vehicle resembling the modern farmer's hay-wagon. slouched hats, puffed doublets, light legged breeches and pointed shoes are seen in the apparel of the israelites who are not represented as priests or soldiers. some houses have italian towers and some have moorish minarets, but in none of the pictures is there an exhibition of pointed gothic architecture." [illustration: page from the biblia pauperum (second edition).] our illustration gives a reduced representation of a page from the second edition of the _biblia pauperum_, dating from about . the middle panel shows christ rising from the tomb, and the wonder and fear of the roman guards; the left-hand panel shows samson carrying off the gates of the city of gaza, and the right-hand panel the disgorging of jonah by the whale. the upper part of the text shows how that samson and jonah were types of christ, and the four little figures represent david, jacob, hosea, and siphonias (zephaniah), the texts on the scrolls being quotations from their words. the accompanying rhymes are as follows:-- obsessus turbis: sampson valvas tulit urbis. quem saxum texit: ingens tumulum jesus exit. de tumulo christe: surgens te denotat iste. (in the midst of crowds, samson removes the gates of the city. the anointed jesus, whom the stone covered, rises from the tomb. this man [jonah] rising from the tomb, denotes thee, o christ!) another very popular block-book, of german origin, was the curious compilation known as _ars moriendi_--the art of dying--or, as it is sometimes called, _temptationes demonis_, or temptation of demons. it describes how dying persons are beset by all manner of temptations, the final triumph of the good, and the sad end of the wicked, with suitable emotions on the part of the attendant angels, and the hideous demons by which the temptations are personified. this work was greatly in vogue in the fifteenth century, and after the invention of type-printing was reproduced in various parts of france, italy, germany and holland. the only block-book without illustrations was the _donatus de octibus partibus orationis_, or donatus on the eight parts of speech, shortly known as donatus. it was _the_ latin grammar of the period, and was the work of donatus, a famous roman grammarian of the fourth century. large numbers were printed both from blocks and from type, but xylographic fragments are scarce, and none are known of any date before the second half of the fifteenth century. yet it is believed that probably more copies of this work were printed than of any other block-book whatever. besides its lack of illustrations, the xylographic donatus is unique among block-books from the fact that it was printed on vellum and not on paper, and (another unusual feature) on both sides of the leaf. vellum was dear, and had to be made the most of, and no doubt was used only because a paper book would have fared badly at the hands of the schoolboys. only one block-book is known to have been printed in france, and that is _les neuf preux_, or the nine champions. the nine champions are divided into three groups: first, classical heroes--hector, alexander and julius cæsar; next, biblical heroes--joshua, david and judas maccabæus; and lastly, heroes of romance--arthur, charlemagne and godefroi of boulogne. the portraits of these celebrities are accompanied by verses. this block-book dates from about . other block-books were the _speculum humanæ salvationis_, _the apocalypse of st john_, _the book of canticles_, _defensorium inviolatæ virginitatis beatæ mariæ virginis_, _mirabilia romæ_; various german almanacks, and a _planetenbuch_, this last representing the heavenly bodies and their influence on human life. the last of the block-books, so far as is known, was the _opera nova contemplativa_, which was executed at venice about . from one point of view the _speculum humanæ salvationis_, or mirror of salvation, is the most curious of its kind. it is looked upon as the connecting link between block-books proper and type-printed books. its purpose seems to have been to afford instruction in the facts and lessons of the christian religion, beginning with the fall of satan. it is founded on an old and once popular manuscript work sometimes ascribed to brother john, a benedictine monk of the thirteenth or fourteenth century. four so-called "editions" of the _speculum_ are known, two of which are in latin rhyme, and two in dutch prose, all four having many points in common and standing apart from the later and dated editions afterwards produced in germany, holland, and france. in these early copies the body of the work consists of a text printed from moveable types, with a block-printed illustration at the head of each page. but one of the latin editions is remarkable for having twenty pages of the text printed from wood blocks. how and why these xylographic pages appear in a book whose remaining forty-two pages are printed from types is a mystery. they are inserted at intervals among the other leaves, and for this and other reasons it is considered improbable that they were printed from blocks originally intended for a block-book, to help to eke out a not very plentiful stock of type. moreover, no entirely xylographic _speculum_ exists to lend colour to such a theory. the time and place of origin of the _speculum_ are unknown, and bibliographers are not agreed as to the order in which the several "editions" appeared. but such evidence as exists points to holland as the home of the printed _speculum_, and those who believe that coster of haarlem invented typography, credit him with having produced it. block-books are nearly all of german, dutch, or flemish workmanship. as a rule the illustrations are roughly coloured by hand. the method by which they were printed is generally supposed to have been that of laying a dampened sheet of paper on the inked block, and rubbing it with a dabber or frotton until the impression was worked up. but de vinne, in his _history of printing_, says that there are practical reasons against the correctness of this view, and considers it more probable that a rude hand-press was used. those who wish to see some modern examples of block-printing may be referred to the books printed by the late william morris at the celebrated kelmscott press at hammersmith. the title-pages and initial words of these volumes were executed by means of wood blocks, and are as beautiful examples of block-printing as the texts of the works they adorn are of typography. all the kelmscott printing, whose history, though most interesting, is nevertheless outside the present subject, was done by hand presses. chapter vii who invented moveable types? the wood-block, however, was merely a stepping-stone to the greatest of all events in the history of printing, the invention of moveable types; that is, of letters formed separately, which, after being grouped into words, and sentences, and paragraphs, could be redistributed and used again for all sorts of books. here once more our chinese friends were ahead of the rest of the world, for, more than four centuries before german printers existed, picheng, a chinese smith, had shown his countrymen how to print from moveable types made of burnt clay. but the process which was to prove of such untold value to those who employed the simple roman alphabet was almost useless to the chinese, since the immense number of their characters rendered the older method the less tedious and cumbersome of the two. in china and japan, therefore, the use of moveable types was of short duration. in europe, however, when the art of printing from moveable types once became known, the case was very different. once upon a time, as a magnate of the city of haarlem was walking in a wood near the city, he idly cut some letters on the bark of a beech tree. it then suddenly occurred to him that these letters might be impressed upon paper; whereupon he made some impressions of them for the amusement of his grandchildren. this, we have learned from our youth up, is how the art of printing came to be discovered. but unfortunately, this legend is not to be relied upon. as a matter of fact, the first inventor of printing is unknown, and even as regards moveable types it is impossible to say with absolute certainty when or by whom the idea was first conceived. daunon, in his _analyse des opinions diverses sur l'origine de l'imprimerie_, tells us that no less than fifteen towns claim to be the birthplace of printing, and that a still larger number of persons have been put forward as its inventors, from saturn, job, and charlemagne downwards. the arguments for or against the pretensions of saturn, job, and charlemagne, and, indeed, of the majority of the personages whose names have been mentioned in this connection, do not call for notice. for although the first printer is not known, many believe that they can point him out with tolerable certainty, and in the fierce battle which has raged round the question of the identity of the inventor of moveable types, two names alone have been used as the respective war-cries of the opposing armies. one is johann gutenberg of mentz, and the other, laurenz coster of haarlem. although the balance of opinion is now, and always has been, in favour of gutenberg, the battle has been long and furious. the diligence of the disputants in collecting data in support of their theories has been equalled only by the vigour and ferocity with which some of their number have maintained their opinions. each side has charged the other with forging evidence, and ink and abuse have been freely poured out in the cause of typographical truth. yet though sought for during several centuries, no conclusive proof has been discovered by either side; typographical truth remains in her well, and the identity of the inventor of moveable types seems almost as hard to determine as that of the man in the iron mask or the writer of the letters of junius. the partisans of coster have been as eminent and as able as those of gutenberg, and thus the unlearned enquirer finds it difficult to declare for one rather than the other, without investigating for himself all the ins and outs of this involved subject. even then, without some previous bias in one or the other direction, he would probably find himself halting between two opinions. such an investigation is obviously out of the question here, and even were it practicable it could hardly be lipped that where so many doctors disagree our modest effort would produce any valuable result. we shall therefore do no more than briefly set forth some of the chief arguments on either side as fairly as may be, but without attempting an exhaustive examination of the evidence, first, however, declaring ourselves as followers of the majority and partisans of gutenberg, by way of sheet anchor. those who advocate the claims of holland against germany largely base their belief on the existence of various printed books and fragments of dutch origin, undated, and affording no clue to the time and place at which they were printed, or to their printer, whether coster or another. it is much more likely, they say, that these were the first rude attempts at typography, and that they gave the idea to the mentz printers, who forthwith improved upon it, than that the mentz printers should have given the idea to the dutch, who, so far from improving upon it, produced these clumsy imitations of fine german work. and mr hessels, who made a complete examination of the evidence in favour of gutenberg, was unable to say either that gutenberg invented type-printing, or that he did not invent it. on the other hand, "it is certainly possible," say the writers of the _guide to the british museum_, "that actual printing may have been previously executed in holland; although, to our minds, the improbability of the printers who are asserted to have produced _donatus_ and the _speculum_ from moveable types ten years before gutenberg having produced nothing but the like kind of work for nearly twenty years after him outweighs all the arguments which have been advanced in support of their claim. it is at all events certain that, without some very direct and positive evidence on the other side, mankind will continue to regard gutenberg as the parent of the art, and mainz as its birthplace." within recent years a claim for the honour of the invention has been put forward on behalf of quite another part of the world. some early fifteenth century documents discovered at avignon make unmistakable references to printing, and not to xylography, and from them we learn that procopius waldfoghel, a silver-smith of prague, was engaged in printing at avignon in , and had undertaken to cut a set of hebrew types for a jew whom he had previously instructed in the art of printing. no specimens of his work are known, and it is therefore impossible to say exactly to what process these records refer, but it has been conjectured that it may have been some method of stamping letters from cut type, and not from cast type by means of a press. since coster is the hero of the well-known story quoted above, and since as regards our present purpose there is less to be said of him than of gutenberg, we will briefly recapitulate what is known about him, and the foundations on which his fame as a typographer rests, before dealing more at length with gutenberg and the mentz press. it does not seem easy to account for the existence of what the partisans of gutenberg contemptuously term the coster legend. it has been conjectured, somewhat plausibly, that haarlem's jealousy of the superiority and fame of mentz and its printers began very early, and arose from the narrow vanity of those haarlemers who imagined that the first printing press in haarlem must necessarily be the first printing press in the world. however this may be, the legend arose, and waxed strong, and many believed in it. laurenz janssoen, or coster, was born in haarlem about . he is said to have held various high offices, such as sheriff, treasurer, officer of the city guard, and especially that of coster to the great church of haarlem. coster means sacristan or sexton, but the position was one of far greater honour than is now associated with it. but another account, which is supported by all the available records, represents him as a tallow-chandler, and subsequently as an innkeeper, and if he had anything at all to do with the great church, it was only that he supplied it with candles. but whether chandler or coster, nothing is heard of him as a printer until , more than a hundred years after his alleged success in printing from types--in itself a strange fact, since if coster were the inventor, why were the mentz printers allowed to appropriate all the credit to themselves, unchallenged by coster's kinsfolk or countrymen, and supported by the opinions of sixty-two writers, including caxton, the chronicler fabian, trithemius, and the compilers of the cologne and nuremberg chronicles? it is true that "few sometimes may know when thousands err," but silence is no proof of truth, and if coster's representatives possessed the truth, how came they to withhold it from a deluded world? although coster is not named till , the claims of haarlem to be the birthplace of printing had been put forward (for the first time) some years earlier by jan van zuyren in a work on the invention of typography, of which only a fragment remains. the claims of haarlem, he says, "are at this day fresh in the remembrance of our fathers, to whom, so to express myself, they have been transmitted from hand to hand from their ancestors." thus, though probably writing in all good faith, van zuyren bases his statements on nothing better than tradition. "the city of mentz," he goes on to say, "without doubt merits great praise for having been the first to publish to the world, in a becoming garb, an invention which she received from us, for having perfected and embellished an art as yet rude and imperfect.... it is certain that the foundations of this splendid art were laid in our city of haarlem, rudely, indeed, but still the first." coornhert, an engraver, and a partner of van zuyren, repeats the same statements, and on the same basis, in the preface to a translation of cicero which he published in , but is acute enough to see that the case for haarlem is nearly hopeless. "i am aware," he says, "that in consequence of the blameable neglect of our ancestors, the common opinion that this art was invented at mentz is now firmly established, that it is in vain to hope to change it, even by the best evidence and the most irrefragable proof." he proceeds to declare his conviction of the justice of haarlem's claim, because of "the faithful testimonies of men alike respectable from their age and authority, who not only have often told me of the family of the inventor, and of his name and surname, but have even described to me the rude manner of printing first used, and pointed out to me with their fingers the abode of the first printer. and therefore, not because i am jealous of the glory of others, but because i love truth, and desire to pay all tribute to the honour of our city which is justly her due, i have thought it incumbent upon me to mention these things." yet it is strange that he did not think it incumbent upon him to mention the name and surname of the inventor, since he had been told them so often. hadrian junius, said to have been the most learned man in holland after erasmus, is the first to give to the world the fully-developed legend of coster. this he does in his _batavia_, which was finished in and published posthumously twenty years later. it is he who first mentions coster by name, and gives the story of the walk in the woods. he relates how coster devised block-printing, and calling in the help of his son-in-law, thomas peter, produced the block-book _speculum humanæ salvationis_, and then advanced to types of wood, then to types of lead, and finally to types of lead and tin combined. prospering in his new art, he engaged numerous workmen, one of whom, probably named johann faust, as soon as he had mastered the process of printing and of casting type, stole his master's types and other apparatus one christmas eve, and fled to amsterdam, thence to cologne, and finally to mentz. for all this junius also adduces no better authority than hearsay, but nevertheless it is his statements which have brought coster to the front and given him such reputation as he now enjoys. no books bearing coster's name are known, though this in itself is no argument against him, for the name of gutenberg himself is not found in any of his own productions. it is not only highly improbable that coster was the first printer, but also doubtful whether he printed anything at all. but those who think otherwise consider that the idea of printing occurred to him about or , and that he executed, among other books, the _biblia pauperum_, the _speculum_, the _ars moriendi_, and _donatus_. the people of holland still retain their faith in coster. statues have been erected, medals struck, tablets put up, and holidays observed in his honour. chapter viii gutenberg and the mentz press johann or hans gutenberg was born at mentz in or about the year . his father's name was gensfleisch, but he is always known by his mother's maiden name of gutenberg or gutemberg. it was customary in germany at that time for a son to assume his mother's name if it happened that she had no other kinsman to carry it on. of gutenberg's early life, of his education or profession, we know nothing. but we know that his family, with many of their fellow-citizens, left mentz when gutenberg was about twenty years of age, on account of the disturbed state of the city. they probably went to strasburg, but this is uncertain. in gutenberg's name appears among others in an amnesty, granted to such of the mentz citizens as had left the city, by the elector conrad iii., but apparently he continued to live in strasburg. two years later he visited mentz, probably about a pension granted by the magistrates to his widowed mother. this is practically all that is known of the earlier part of gutenberg's life. it is curious that nearly all the recorded information concerning gutenberg is in connection either with lawsuits or with the raising of money. from the contracts for borrowing or repaying money into which he entered, we gather that he was always hard pressed, and that his invention ran away with a good deal of gold and paid back none. gutenberg cast his bread on the waters, and it is we who have found it. the first known event of his life which directly concerns our subject is a lawsuit brought against him by georg dritzehn. mr hessels implies, though he does not actually state, that he suspects the authenticity of the records of this trial. but no proof of their falsity can be adduced, and the integrity of the documents otherwise remains unquestioned. they cannot now, however, be subjected to further examination, for they were burnt in at the time of the siege of strasburg. the action in question was brought against gutenberg in by georg dritzehn, the brother of one andres dritzehn, deceased, for the restitution of certain rights which he considered due to himself as his brother's heir. from the testimony of the witnesses as set down in the records of the trial, we gather that gutenberg had entered into partnership with hans riffe, andres dritzehn, and andres heilmann; and one of the witnesses deposed that dritzehn, on his death-bed, asserted that gutenberg had concealed "several arts from them, which he was not obliged to show them." this did not please them, so they made a fresh arrangement with gutenberg and further payments into the exchequer, to the end that gutenberg "should conceal from them none of the arts he knew." again, lorentz beildeck testified that after andres dritzehn's death, gutenberg sent him to claus, andres' brother, to tell him "that he should not show to anyone the press which he had under his care," but that "he should take great care and go to the press and open this by means of two little buttons whereby the pieces would fall asunder. he should, thereupon, put those pieces in or on the press, after which nobody could see or comprehend anything." besides this, hans niger von bischoviszheim said that andres dritzehn applied to him for a loan, and when witness asked him his occupation, answered that he was a maker of looking-glasses. later on, a pilgrimage "to aix-la-chapelle about the looking-glasses" is mentioned. by these records, from mr hessels' translation of which the above quotations are taken, two things at least are made clear. first, that gutenberg was in possession of the knowledge of an art unknown to his companions, which he was desirous of keeping to himself, and which those not in the secret wished to learn; and secondly, that a press containing some important and mysterious "pieces," which was not to be exhibited to outsiders until the pieces had been separated, played a prominent part in this secret work. the "looking-glasses," apparently, were imaginary, and intended for the misleading of too curious enquirers. but it has been ingeniously suggested that the word _spiegel_, or looking-glass, was a cryptic reference to the _spiegel onser behoudenisse_, or _mirror of salvation_, and that gutenberg and his assistants were engaged in preparing the printed _speculum_ for sale at the forthcoming fair held on the occasion of the pilgrimages to aix-la-chapelle in . this part of his plan, however, was frustrated by the postponement of the fair for a year. it is hardly to be doubted that the researches privately conducted in the deserted convent of st arbogastus, where gutenberg dwelt, concerned the great invention usually linked with his name. were this probability an absolute certainty, then strasburg might successfully dispute with mentz the title of birthplace of the art of printing. but to what stage gutenberg carried his labours in the old convent, or how far he proceeded towards the goal of his ambition, is not known, though it has been conjectured that possibly he and those in his confidence got as far as the making of matrices for types, and that perhaps even the types used for the earliest extant specimens of type-printing were cast there, although not used until gutenberg had returned to mentz. on the other hand, there are many who think that matrices and punches are due to the ingenuity of peter schoeffer, to whom reference is made below. when gutenberg left strasburg for mentz is not known, but he was in the latter city in , as is testified by a deed relating to a loan which he had raised. his constant pecuniary difficulties resulted in his entering into partnership, in , with the goldsmith johann fust, or faust, a rich burgher of mentz, who contributed large loans towards the working expenses, and was evidently to share in the profits of the press. fust or faust, the printer of mentz, has sometimes been identified with the faust of german legend. the dealings in the black art related of the one have also been ascribed to the other by various story-tellers, some of whom say that in paris faust the printer narrowly escaped being burnt as a wizard for selling books which looked like manuscripts, and yet were not manuscripts. the first printed letters, it should be observed, were exactly copied from the manuscript letters then in vogue. the first really definite recorded event in the history of gutenberg's printing was a lawsuit brought against him by fust, in , when gutenberg had to give an account of the receipts and expenditure relating to his work, and to hand over to fust all his apparatus in discharge of his debt. the partnership was of course dissolved, gutenberg left mentz, and fust continued the printing assisted by peter schoeffer. schoeffer was a servant of fust's, who had further associated himself with the establishment by marrying fust's daughter, and to him some attribute the improvement of the methods then employed by devising matrices and punches for casting metal types. it has even been suggested that this device of his, communicated to fust, induced the latter to rid himself of gutenberg by demanding repayment of his advances when gutenberg was unable to meet the call, and that having gained possession of his partner's apparatus, he was able, with the help of schoeffer and his inventions, to carry on the work to his own profit and glory. but it is difficult to know whether to look upon fust as a grasping and treacherous money-lender, or as a prudent and enterprising man of business. however this may be, at the time of the lawsuit the work of years was already perfected, printing with moveable types was now an accomplished thing, and the great mazarin bible, if not finished, was at any rate on the point of completion. the earliest extant specimens of printing from types, however, are assigned to the year . these are some letters of indulgence issued by pope nicholas v. to the supporters of the king of cyprus in his war with the turks. they consist of single sheets of vellum, printed on one side only, and measuring _c._ x inches. they fall into two classes, of each of which there were various issues; that is to say, ( ) those containing thirty lines, and ( ) those containing thirty-one lines. the thirty-line indulgence is printed partly in the type used for the mazarin bible. the thirty-one-line indulgence is partly printed in type which is the same as that used for books printed by albrecht pfister at bamberg, and for a bible which disputes with the mazarin bible the position of the first printed book. who printed these indulgences is not certainly known. both emanated from the mentz press, and it is not unreasonable to believe that both were executed by gutenberg, since the mazarin bible is most probably his work, and since the types used by pfister were perhaps at one time possessed by gutenberg. still, the point is not clear, and the more general view is that they were the work of two different printers. some attribute the thirty-line indulgence to schoeffer, on the ground that some of its initial letters are reproduced in an indulgence of known to be of schoeffer's workmanship. yet there seems no reason why schoeffer in should not have made use of gutenberg's types--indeed, it is very probable that he had every chance of doing so, as may be seen from the above account of the dissolution of partnership between gutenberg and fust. [illustration: type of the mentz indulgence ( -line, _exact size_).] those who assign the thirty-line specimen to schoeffer consider the thirty-one-line specimen to be gutenberg's work. "and though we have no proof of this," says mr e. gordon duff, who holds this view, "or indeed of gutenberg's having printed any book at all, there is a strong weight of circumstantial evidence in his favour." it may be taken for granted, then, although proof is wanting, that gutenberg printed at least one of these indulgences, and perhaps both. in any case, these are the first productions of the printing-press to which a definite date can be assigned. some of them have a printed date, and in other copies the date has been inserted in manuscript. the earliest specimens of each class belong to the year . the next production of the mentz press, as is generally believed, is the beautiful volume known as the gutenberg bible, or the mazarin bible, because it was a copy in the library of cardinal mazarin which first attracted attention and led bibliographers to enquire into its history. it illustrates a most remarkable fact--that is, the extraordinary degree of perfection to which the art of printing attained all but simultaneously with its birth. even though we cannot tell how long gutenberg experimented before producing this book, it is none the less amazing that as a specimen of typographic art the mazarin bible has never been excelled even by the cleverest printers and the most modern and elaborate apparatus. it was probably not begun before , the year when gutenberg and fust joined forces, and was completed certainly not later than . this latter date is fixed by a colophon written in the second volume of the copy in the bibliothèque nationale at paris, which informs us that "this book was illuminated, bound, and perfected by heinrich cremer, vicar of the collegiate church of st stephen in mentz, on the feast of the assumption of the blessed virgin, in the year of our lord . thanks be to god. hallelujah." a similar note is affixed to the first volume. it is believed by competent authorities that this and all very early printed books were printed one page at a time, owing to an inadequate supply of type, a process exceedingly slow and productive of numerous small variations in the text. the work of printing the mazarin bible was in all probability interrupted to allow of the execution of the more immediately needed letters of indulgence, in certain parts of which, as we have said, some of the types used in the mazarin bible are employed. we must not omit to mention here another bible issued from mentz about this time. it has thirty-six lines to a column, and is therefore known as the thirty-six line bible, in distinction to the forty-two line or mazarin bible. it exhibits a larger type, and is regarded by some as the first book printed at the mentz press, and, for all that can be proved to the contrary, it is so. although the point is still undecided, this volume may at any rate be safely regarded as contemporary with the mazarin bible. [illustration: page from the mazarin bible (_reduced_).] the mazarin bible is in latin, and printed in the characters known as gothic, or black letter. these were closely modelled on the form of the handwriting used at that time for bibles and kindred works. it is in two volumes, and each page, excepting a few at the beginning, has two columns of forty-two lines, and each is provided with rubrics, inserted by hand, while the small initials of the sentences have a touch of red, also put in by hand. some copies are of vellum, others of paper. but henceforward the use of vellum declines. [illustration: type of the mazarin bible (_exact size_).] the mazarin bible is usually considered to be the joint work of gutenberg and fust. mr winter jones has conjectured that the metal types used in early printing were cut by the goldsmiths, and that fust's skill, as well as his money, were pressed into gutenberg's service. but if, as some have thought, fust provided money only, while gutenberg was the working partner, then fust would hardly have been concerned in its actual production until , when he and gutenberg separated. even then--supposing the book to have been still unfinished--it is quite possible that schoeffer did the work. but no one is able to decide the exact parts played by those three associated and most noted printers of mentz; conjecture alone can allot them. gutenberg returned to mentz in , and made a fresh start, aided financially by dr conrad homery. here again we are confronted with a want of direct evidence, and can point to no books as certainly being the work of gutenberg. but there are good reasons for believing that under this new arrangement he printed the _catholicon_, or latin grammar and dictionary, of john of genoa; the _tractatus racionis et conscientiæ_ of matthæus de cracovia; _summa de articulis fidei_ of aquinas; and an indulgence of . there is a colophon to the _catholicon_ which may possibly have been written by gutenberg, which runs as follows:-- "by the assistance of the most high, at whose will the tongues of children become eloquent, and who often reveals to babes what he hides from the wise, this renowned book, the _catholicon_, was printed and perfected in the year of the incarnation , in the beloved city of mentz (which belongs to the illustrious german nation, whom god has consented to prefer and to raise with such an exalted light of the mind and free grace, above the other nations of the earth), not by means of reed, stile, or pen, but by the admirable proportion, harmony, and connection of the punches and types." a metrical doxology follows. a few other and smaller works have also been believed to have been executed by gutenberg at this time, but with no certainty. in gutenberg was made one of the gentlemen of the court to adolph ii., count of nassau and archbishop of mentz, and presumably abandoned his printing on acceding to this dignity. in or gutenberg died, and thus ends the meagre list of facts which we have concerning the life and career of the first printer. to nearly every question which we might wish to ask about gutenberg and his work, one of two answers has to be given--"it is not known," or "perhaps." he does not speak for himself, and none of his personal acquaintance, or his family, if he had any, speak for him. we have no reason to believe that his work brought him any particular honour, and certainly it brought him no wealth. it has been suggested, however, that the post offered to him by the archbishop was in recognition of his invention, since there is no other reason apparent why the dignity was conferred. but we may well conclude this account of gutenberg with de vinne's words, that "there is no other instance in modern history, excepting, possibly, shakespeare, of a man who did so much and said so little about it." fust, the former partner of gutenberg, died in , leaving a son to succeed him in the partnership with schoeffer, and schoeffer died about . of his three sons (all printers), the eldest, johann, continued to work at mentz until about . the most notable books issued by fust and schoeffer were the psalter of , and the latin bible of . the bible of is the first bible with a date. the psalter of is famous as being the first printed psalter, the first printed book with a date, the first example of printing in colours, the first book with a printed colophon, and the first printed work containing musical notes, though these last are not printed but inserted by hand.[ ] the colour printing is shown by the red and blue initials, but by what process they were executed has been the subject of much discussion. they are generally supposed to have been added after the rest of the page had been printed, by means of a stamp. the colophon is written in the curious latin affected by the early printers, and mr pollard offers the following as a rough rendering:-- "the present book of psalms, adorned with beauty of capitals, and sufficiently marked out with rubrics, has been thus fashioned by an ingenious invention of printing and stamping, and to the worship of god diligently brought to completion by johann fust, a citizen of mentz, and peter schoffer of gernsheim, in the year of our lord, , on the vigil of the feast of the assumption." [ ] the first printed musical notes appear in de gerson's _collectorium super magnificat_, printed at esslingen in by conrad fyner. these two printers also produced, in , an edition of the _de officiis_ of cicero, which shares with the _lactantius_, printed in the same year at subiaco, near rome, by sweynheim and pannartz, the honour of exhibiting to the world the first greek types, and with the same printers' cicero _de oratore_, that of being the first printed latin classic, unless an undated _de officiis_, printed at cologne by ulrich zel about this time, is the real "first." chapter ix early printing wherever typography originated, it was from mentz that it was taught to the world. the disturbances in that city in drove many of its citizens from their homes, and the german printers were thus dispersed over europe. within a little more than twenty years from the time of the first issue from the mentz printing-press, other presses were established at strasburg, bamberg, cologne, augsburg, nuremberg, spires, ulm, lubeck, and breslau; basle, rome, venice, florence, naples, and many other italian cities; paris and lyons; bruges; and, in , at westminster. before the end of the fifteenth century eighteen european countries were printing books. italy heads the list with seventy-one cities in which presses were at work, germany follows with fifty, france with thirty-six, spain with twenty-six, holland with fourteen; and after these england's four printing-places--westminster, london, oxford, and st albans--make a somewhat small show. some other countries, however, had but one printing-town. with the possible exception of holland, england and scotland are the only countries which are indebted to a native and not (as in every case save that of ireland) to a german for the introduction of printing. the early printers were more than mere workmen. they were usually editors and publishers as well. some of them were associated with scholars who did the editorial work: sweynheim and pannartz, for instance, the first to set up a press in italy, had the benefit of the services of the bishop of aleria, and their rival, ulric hahn, enjoyed for a while the assistance of the celebrated campanus. aldus manutius, too, the founder of the aldine press at venice, though himself a literary man and a learned editor, availed himself of the help of several greek scholars in the revising and correcting of classical texts. the exact relations of these editors to the printers, however, is not known. the english printer, caxton, who also was a scholar, usually, though not invariably, edited his publications himself. the first printers were also booksellers, and sold other people's books as well as their own. several of their catalogues or advertisements still exist. the earliest known book advertisements are some issued by peter schoeffer, one, dating from about , giving a list of twenty-one books for sale by himself or his agents in the several towns where he had established branches of his business, and another advertising an edition of st jerome's _epistles_ published by schoeffer at mentz in . an advertisement by caxton is also extant, and being short, as well as interesting, may be quoted here. it is as follows:-- if it plese ony man spirituel or temporel to bye ony pyes,[ ] of two and thre comemoracios of salisburi vse enpryntid after the forme of this preset lettre whiche ben wel and truly correct, late hym come to westmonester in to the almonesrye at the reed pale and he shal haue them good chepe. supplico stet cedula. [ ] the pye, or pica, directed how saints'-days falling in lent, easter, whitsuntide, and the octave of trinity, were to be observed with respect to the "commemorations" of these seasons. the date of this notice is about or . other extant examples of early advertisements are those of john mentelin, a strasburg printer, issued about , and of antony koburger, of nuremberg, issued about ten years later. in koburger advertised the nuremberg chronicle. early printed books exhibit a very limited range of subject, and were hardly ever used to introduce a new contemporary writer. theology and jurisprudence in germany, and the classics in italy, inaugurated the new invention, and lighter fare was not served to the patrons of printed literature until a later date. italy made the first departure, and took up history, romance, and poetry. france began with the classics, and then neglected them for romances and more popular works, but at the same time became noted for the beautifully illuminated service-books produced at paris and rouen, and which supplied the clergy of both france and england. england, who received printing twelve years after italy and seven years after france, made more variety in her books than any. caxton's productions consist of works dealing with subjects of wider interest, even if less learned and improving--romances, chess, good manners, _Æsop's fables_, the _canterbury tales_, and the _adventures of reynard the fox_. from what sort of type the bible usually considered to be the first printed book was produced is not known. some competent authorities think that wooden types were used. others are in favour of metal, and like the late mr winter jones, scout the notion of wooden types and consider them "impossible things." but skeen, in his _early typography_, declares that hard wood would print better than soft lead, such as blades hints that caxton's types were made of, and to illustrate the possibility of wooden types prints a word in gothic characters from letters cut in boxwood. the objections made to types of this nature are that they would be too weak to bear the press, could never stand washing and cleaning, and would swell when wet and shrink when dried. some have thought that the early types were made by stamping half-molten metal with wooden punches, and so forming matrices from which the types were subsequently cast. as we have already noticed in connection with the mazarin bible, the forms of the types were copied from the gothic or black letter characters in which bibles, psalters, and missals were then written. when roman type was first cut is uncertain. the "r" printer of strasburg, whose name is unknown, and whose works are dated only by conjecture, may have been the first to use it. it was employed by sweynheim and pannartz in , and by the first printers in paris and venice. it was brought to the greatest perfection by nicolas jenson, a frenchman working in venice. caxton never employed it, and it was not introduced into england until . in that year richard pynson, a london printer and a naturalised englishman, though norman by birth, used some roman type in portions of the _sermo fratris hieronymi de ferrara_, and in he produced _oratio ricardi pacaei_, which was entirely printed in these characters. had the idea of the title-page, in the modern sense of the term, a very obvious idea, as it seems to us, occurred to the first printers, we should not have to sharpen our wits on the hundred and one doubtful points with which the subject of early bibliography bristles. to-day, the title-page not only introduces the book itself, but declares the name of the writer and the publisher, and the time and place of publication. but during the first sixty years of printing title-pages were rare, and the old methods followed by the scribes in writing their manuscript books still obtained. the subject matter began with "incipit" or "here beginneth," etc., according to the language in which the work was written, and such information as the printer considered it desirable to impart was contained in the colophon, or note affixed to the end of the book. more often than not these colophons are irritatingly reticent, and withhold the very thing we want to know. at other times they are informing, and in some cases amusing. dr garnett has suggested that as a literary pastime some one might do worse than collect fifteenth-century colophons into a volume, for the sake of their biographical and personal interest, but i am not aware that his idea has been carried out. two colophons have already been quoted here, the first printed colophon (see p.  ) and one which is possibly from the pen of gutenberg (see p.  ). a quaint specimen found in a volume of cicero's _orationes philippicæ_, printed at rome by ulrich hahn, about , descends to puns. it is in latin verse, and supposed by some to have been written by cardinal campanus, who edited several of hahn's publications. it informs the descendants of the geese who saved the capitol, that they need have no more fear for their feathers, for the art of ulrich the _cock_ (german _hahn_ = latin _gallus_ = english _cock_) will provide a potent substitute for quills. a colophon to cicero's _epistolæ familiares_, printed at venice in by joannes de spira, declares with pardonable pride that he had printed two editions of three hundred copies in four months. the first book with any attempt at a title-page is the _sermo ad populum predicabilis_, printed at cologne in by arnold therhoernen, but a full title-page was not generally adopted till fifty years later. the first english title-page is very brief, and reads as follows:-- a passing gode lityll boke necessarye & behouefull agenst the pestilence. this gode lityll boke, written by canutus, bishop of aarhaus, was printed in london about by machlinia. a later development of the title-page was a full-page woodcut, headed by the name of the work, as in the =kynge richarde cuer du lyon=, printed in by wynkyn de worde. the same woodcut does duty in another of the same printer's books for robert the devil. early title-pages in latin sometimes render the names of familiar places of publication in a very unfamiliar form. london may appear as augusta trinobantum, edinburgh as aneda, dublin as eblana. some towns are easily recognised by their latin names, such as roma or venetiæ; others are less obvious, such as moguntia, or mentz; lutetia, or paris; argentina, or strasburg. several places had more than one latin form of name. london, for example, was also londinum, and edinburgh, edemburgem. pagination, or numbering of the pages, was first introduced by arnold therhoernen, in the same book in which he gives us the first title-page, and to which reference has already been made. he did not place the figures at the top corner, however, but in the centre of the right hand margin. the practice of printing the first word of a leaf at the foot of the leaf preceding, as a guide for the arrangement of the sheets, was first employed by vindelinus de spira, of venice, in the _tacitus_ which he printed about . chapter x early printing in italy and some other countries the new invention found more favour in italy than in any other country, for more presses were established there than anywhere else. the printers, however, were all germans, and before about german typographers were at work in twenty-seven italian cities. they kept the secrets of their trade well to themselves, and not till was any printing executed by an italian. in may of that year the _de medicinis universalibus_ of mesua was executed at venice by clement of padua, who accomplished the truly wonderful feat of teaching himself how to print. another italian, joannes phillipus de lignamine, printed at rome some time before july , , and it is therefore uncertain whether he or clement of padua was the first native printer of italy. the first press established in italy was that set up in the benedictine monastery of st scholastica at subiaco, a few miles from rome, by two german typographers, conrad sweynheim and arnold pannartz. there they issued cicero's _de oratore_ in , the first book printed in italy. in their petition to the pope, referred to below, they say that they had printed a _donatus_, presumably before the cicero, but no such work is known, and some have thought it was only a block-book. in the same year they issued the works of lactantius, "the christian cicero," the first dated book executed in italy. it is also one of the earliest books to adopt a more elaborate punctuation than the simple oblique line and full stop in general use. the _lactantius_ has a colon, full stop, and notes of admiration and interrogation. both these books are printed in a pleasing type which is neither gothic nor roman, but midway between the two. [illustration: type of the subiaco lactantius (_exact size._)] two years later sweynheim and pannartz removed to rome, where their countryman, ulric hahn, was already at work, and prosecuted their business with so much energy, and apparently so little prudence or regard to the works of other printers, that at the end of five years they had printed no less than , sheets which they could not sell, and were in such financial straits that they petitioned the pope for assistance for themselves and their families. whether they obtained it is unknown, but the partnership was soon after dissolved, and the name of pannartz alone appears in books of and . when these two printers died is uncertain. venice was the next city of italy to take up the new art. there, in , joannes de spira, or john of spires, executed cicero's _epistolæ ad familiares_. he obtained a privilege from the venetian senate with regard to his productions, and, more than that, a monopoly of book-printing in venice for five years. he died, however, less than a year later, and his monopoly with him. his brother vindelinus carried on his work, and was succeeded by nicolas jenson, a frenchman, who, from a technical point of view, was perhaps the most skilful and artistic of early typographers. the most famous printer of venice, however, and the most famous printer of italy, and perhaps of the world, is aldus manutius, born in , but his fame rests less on his actual printing, which, though good, is not unequalled, than upon the efforts he made for popularising literature, and bringing cheap, yet well-produced books within the reach of the many. he saw that the works printed in such numbers by the venetian printers, who paid attention to quantity and cheapness and altogether ignored the quality of their productions, were faulty and corrupt, and that textually as well as typographically there was room for improvement. he applied himself to the study of the classics, above all to the greek, hitherto neglected or published through latin translations, and secured the assistance of many eminent scholars, and then, having obtained good texts, turned his thoughts to type and format. the types he cast for his first book, lascaris' _greek grammar_, were superior to the greek types then in use. next he designed a new roman type, modelled, so it is said, upon the handwriting of petrarch. it called forth admiration, and won fame under the name of the "aldino" type. its use has continued to the present day, and it is known to almost everyone as _italic_. it was cut by francesco de bologna, who was probably identical with francesco raibolini, that painter-goldsmith who signed himself on his pictures as _aurifex_, and on his gold-work as _pictor_. the advantage of the aldino type, at the time of its invention, when type was large and required a comparatively great deal of space, was that its size and form permitted the printed matter to be much compressed, while losing nothing in clearness. the book for which it was used could be made smaller, and printed more cheaply. in aldus inaugurated his new type by issuing a _virgil_ printed throughout in "aldino." it occupied two hundred and twenty-eight leaves, and was of a neat and novel shape, measuring just six by three and a half inches. this book, which was sold for about two shillings of our money, marks aldus as the pioneer of cheap literature--literature not for the wealthy alone, but for all who loved books. a proof of the popularity of the new departure is afforded by the fact that the _virgil_ was immediately forged, that is to say, reproduced in a number of exceedingly inferior copies, by an unknown printer of lyons. [illustration: type of the aldine virgil, (_exact size._)] the aldine mark, which appears on aldus' edition of dante's _terze rime_ in , and on nearly all the numerous works subsequently issued from this famous press, is a dolphin twined about an anchor, and the name aldvs divided by the upper part of the anchor. this device continued to be used after the death of aldus manutius in by his descendants, who carried on the work of the press until . france was somewhat late in availing herself of the advantages offered by the new art, although peter schoeffer had had a bookseller's shop in paris. in , guillaume fichet, rector of the sorbonne, invited three german printers--ulric gering, michael friburger and martin cranz--to come and set up a printing-press at the sorbonne. the first work they produced there was the _epistolæ_ of gasparinus barzizius. for this and a few other volumes they used a very beautiful roman type, but after the closing of the sorbonne press in they established other presses elsewhere in paris and adopted a gothic character similar to that of the contemporary french manuscripts, and therefore more likely to be popular with french readers. the first work printed in the french language, however, is believed to have been executed, chiefly, at any rate, by an englishman, probably at bruges, five years later, that is, about . the book was _le recueil des histoires de troyes_, the englishman was william caxton. caxton also printed at the same place, and about the year , the first book in the english language--a translation of _le recueil_. in both these works he may have been assisted by colard mansion, believed by some to have been his typographical tutor, though so eminent an authority as mr blades holds that _le recueil_ was printed by mansion alone, and that caxton had no hand in it. as with so many other questions concerning early typography, there seems to be no means of deciding the point. the first work in french which was issued in paris was the _grands chroniques de france_, printed by pasquier bonhomme in . holland and the low countries can show no printed book with a date earlier than , while the celebrated city of haarlem's first dated book was produced ten years later. but printing was very possibly practised in these countries at an earlier period, and some undated books exist which those who ascribe the invention of typography to holland consider to have been executed by dutch printers before any german books had been given to the world. those who stand by germany of course think otherwise. in the year just named-- --nycolaum ketelaer and gerard de leempt produced peter comestor's _historia scholastica_ at utrecht, and alost and louvain also started printing. the types of john veldener, the first louvain printer, have a great resemblance to those used by caxton, and have led some to believe that veldener supplied caxton with the types he first used at westminster. about the same time, colard mansion, noted for his association either as teacher or assistant with caxton, is supposed to have introduced printing into bruges. his first dated book was a _boccaccio_ of , and he continued to print until , when he issued a fine edition, in french, of ovid's _metamorphoses_. after this nothing more is known of him. blades thinks that his printing brought him financial ruin, and suggests that he may have joined his old friend caxton at westminster, and helped him in his work, but this is only conjecture. we have already seen that it was from colard mansion's press that the first printed books in the english and french languages were produced. the first brussels press was established by the brethren of the common life, a community who had hitherto made a speciality of the production of manuscript books. at what date they began to print in brussels is uncertain, but their first dated book, the _gnotosolitos sive speculum conscientiae_, is of the year . the brethren also had an earlier press at marienthal, near mentz, and subsequently set up others at rostock, nuremberg, and gouda. the elzevirs belong to a somewhat later period than that with which we are concerned in these chapters, but a name so famous in bibliographical annals as theirs cannot well be passed over. the first of the elzevirs was louis, a native of louvain, who in established a book-shop in leyden, gained the patronage of the university, and opened an important trade with foreign countries. certain of his sons and successors became printers as well as booksellers, and produced work of the highest excellence. some of them opened shops or set up presses at amsterdam, the hague, and utrecht, and also established agencies or branches elsewhere, and extended their trade all over europe. the history of the partnerships between different members of the family, and of the sixteen hundred and odd publications which they printed or sold, is a complicated subject upon which there is no need to enter here. the last of the elzevirs, a degenerate great-great-grandson of the first louis elzevir, was abraham elzevir of leyden, who died in , leaving no heir, and at whose decease the press and apparatus were sold. chapter xi early printing in england the first name on the list of early english printers, it is hardly necessary to say, is that of caxton. in his _life and typography of william caxton_, the late mr blades has told all there is to be known of caxton's life, and a great deal about caxton's work; and although as regards the latter half of the subject there are authorities who dissent from some of the theories he advances, mr blades' monograph remains the standard work on the matter of england's first printer and the recognised source of information concerning him and his books. but notwithstanding mr blades' industry and learning, our knowledge of the early part of caxton's life is very scanty, and is derived mainly from what caxton himself tells us in the prologue to his first literary production, the english translation of the french romance by le fevre, entitled _le recueil des histoires de troyes_, or, anglicised, _the recuyell of the histories of troye_. speaking of his boldness in undertaking the work, he refers to the "symplenes and vnperfightness that i had in both langages, that is to wete in frenshe and in englissh, for in france was i neuer, and was born & lerned myn englissh in kente in the weeld where i doubte not is spoken as brode and rude englissh as is in ony place of englond." he was born probably in or , and further than this we know nothing of him till his apprenticeship to robert large, a london mercer. large died before caxton's term of apprenticeship expired, and the next we hear of young caxton is that he was living on the continent, probably at bruges. at the time he wrote the prologue from which quotation has just been made, that is about , he had been for thirty years "for the most parte in the contres of braband, flanders, holand, and zeland." yet notwithstanding so long a residence in the low countries, he describes himself as "mercer of ye cyte of london." as a wool merchant in bruges he prospered, and in time rose to be governor of the company of merchant adventurers, or "the english nation," and in that capacity probably dwelt at the _domus angliæ_, the company's headquarters in bruges. in , and while holding this honourable and important position, he began his translation of _le recueil_, but soon laid it aside, unfinished. two years later he took it up again, but by this time he had resigned the governorship, and was engaged in the service of the duchess of burgundy, sister of edward iv. of england. when or why he took this position, and in what capacity he served the duchess, is not known, but it was her influence which brought about the completion of his literary work and indirectly caused the subsequent metamorphosis of the mercer into the typographer. in the prologue to _the recuyell_ he relates that the duchess commanded him to finish the translation which he had begun, and this lady's "dredefull comandement," he says, "y durste in no wyse disobey because y am a servant vnto her sayde grace and resseiue of her yerly ffee and other many goode and grete benefetes." _the recuyell of the histories of troye_, when finished, immediately found favour in the eyes of the english dwellers in bruges, who, rejoiced to have the favourite romance of the day in their own tongue, demanded more copies than one pair of hands could supply. so because of the weariness and labour of writing, and because of his promise to various friends to provide them with the book, "i haue practysed & lerned," he tells us, "at my grete charge and dispense, to ordeyne this said book in prynte after the maner & forme as ye may here see, and is not wreton with penne and ynke, as other bokes ben, to thende that every man may haue them attones." where caxton gained his knowledge of printing is a matter of dispute. mr blades holds that he was taught by colard mansion, the first printer of bruges, others that he learned at cologne. mr blades adduces in support of his view the similarity of the types of mansion and caxton, the reproduction in caxton's work of various peculiarities to be observed in mansion's, the improbability that caxton would have travelled to cologne to get what was already at hand in the city where he lived, and the absence in his work "of any typographical link between him and the mentz school." for the cologne theory wynkyn de worde, who carried on the work of caxton's printing-office at westminster after the latter's death, supplies some foundation in his edition of bartholomæus _de proprietatibus rerum_, where he says: "and also of your charyte call to remembraunce the soule of william caxton, the first prynter of this boke in laten tongue at coleyn, hymself to avaunce, that every well-disposed man may thereon loke." as usual there is something to be said on both sides, but leaving this debateable ground we will only add that the _recuyell of the histories of troye_, translated by himself from the french, is generally considered to be the first book printed by caxton, perhaps with mansion's help, and probably at bruges, and in or about the year . it is also the first printed book in english. it was followed about by the french version of the same work, and by the famous _game and play of the chesse moralised_. this was once believed to be the first book printed on english soil, but it is now assigned to caxton's press on the continent, probably at bruges. about caxton returned to england, and set up his press at westminster. it has been asserted that he worked in the scriptorium, but it is not known that westminster abbey ever had a scriptorium. others have thought that he printed in some other part of the abbey. his office, however, was situated in the almonry, in the abbey precincts, and was called the red pale, but it is now impossible to identify the place where it stood. in caxton produced _the dictes or sayengis of the philosophres_, the first book, so far as is known, ever printed in england. [illustration: type of caxton's dictes or sayengis of the philosophres, westminster, (_exact size._)] the westminster printer was patronised by the king and by the mighty of the land, and also by the duchess of burgundy, and with his pen, as well as with his press, he sought to supply the books and literature which the taste of the time demanded. "the clergy wanted service-books," says mr blades, "and caxton accordingly provided them with psalters, commemorations and directories; the preachers wanted sermons, and were supplied with the 'golden legend,' and other similar books; the 'prynces, lordes, barons, knyghtes & gentilmen' were craving for 'joyous and pleysaunt historyes' of chivalry, and the press at the 'red pale' produced a fresh romance nearly every year." from his arrival at westminster about until his death about --the date is not exactly known--caxton was continually occupied in translating, editing, and printing, though beyond the prologues, epilogues, and colophons to his various publications he composed little himself, his principal work being the addition of a book to higden's _polychronicon_, bringing that history down to . his translations number twenty-two. the long list of his printed works includes a _horæ_, printed about , and now represented only by a fragment, which is of great interest as being probably the earliest english-printed service-book extant. it was found in the cover of another old book, and is now in the bodleian library. other books printed by caxton were the _canterbury tales_; _boethius_; _parvus et magnus catho_, a mediæval school-book, the third edition of which contains two woodcuts, probably the earliest produced in england; _the historye of reynart the foxe_, translated from the dutch by caxton; _a book of the chesse moralysed_, a second edition of the _game and play of the chesse_, printed by caxton abroad; _the cronicles of englond_; _the pylgremage of the sowle_, believed to have been translated from the french by lydgate; gower's _confessio amantis_; _the knyght of the toure_, translated by caxton from the french; _the golden legend_, consisting of lives of saints compiled by caxton from french and latin texts; _the fables of esope_, etc., translated by caxton from the french; chaucer's _book of fame_; _troylus and creside_; malory's _morte d'arthur_; _the book of good manners_, translated by caxton from the french of jacques legrand; _statutes of henry vii._, in english, the "earliest known volume of printed statutes"; _the governal of helthe_, from the latin, author and translator unknown, the "earliest medical work printed in english"; _divers ghostly matters_, including tracts on the seven points of true love and everlasting wisdom, the twelve profits of tribulation, and the rule of st benet; _the fifteen oes and other prayers_, printed by command of "our liege ladi elizabeth ... quene of englonde, and of the ... pryncesse margarete," and the "prouffytable boke for mannes soule and right comfortable to the body and specyally in aduersitee and trybulacyon, whiche boke is called _the chastysing of goddes chyldern_." between seventy and eighty different books, besides indulgences and other small productions, are attributed to caxton's press, and the works just named will serve to give an idea of their diversity and range. some of the most popular were printed more than once; of the _golden legend_, for example, three editions are known, and of the _dictes or sayings_, the _horæ_, and _parvus et magnus catho_, and several others, two editions are known. there is also a strong probability that many of caxton's productions have been lost altogether, since thirty-eight of those yet extant are represented either by single copies or by fragments. [illustration: boys learning grammar, from caxton's "catho" and "mirrour of the world."] caxton, according to mr blades, used six different founts of gothic type, but mr e. gordon duff, in his _early english printing_, credits him with eight founts. his books are all printed on paper, with the exception of a copy of the _speculum vitæ christi_ in the british museum, and one of the _doctrinal of sapyence_, in the royal library at windsor castle. the well-known device of caxton was not used by him till . it is usually understood to stand for w.c. , but its exact meaning is not known. blades believes that it refers to the date of printing of _the recuyell_, the first product of caxton's typographical skill. [illustration: caxton's device.] in , three or four years after caxton had settled at westminster, john lettou, a foreigner of whom little is known, established the first london printing-press.[ ] his workmanship was particularly good, and he was the first in this country to print two columns to the page. he subsequently took into partnership william de machlinia, and according to the colophon of their _tenores novelli_ the office of these two printers was located in the church of all saints', but this piece of information is too vague to assist in the identification of the spot. machlinia is afterwards found working alone in an office near the flete bridge. his later books were printed in holborn. [ ] it is hardly necessary to remind the reader that at this period westminster was quite distinct from london. a well-known name is that of wynkyn de worde, a native of holland, and at one time assistant to caxton. at caxton's death he became master of the red pale, and issued a number of books "from caxton's house in westminster," including reprints of several of caxton's publications. he made use of some modified forms of caxton's device, but he also had a device of his own, which first appears in the _book of courtesye_ printed some time before . he printed, among other works, the _golden legend_, the _book of courtesye_, bonaventura's _speculum vitæ christi_, higden's _polychronicon_, which appeared in and is the first english book with printed musical notes; bartholomæus' _de proprietatibus rerum_, which appeared about and is the first book printed on english-made paper, and which has already been noticed as the authority for supposing that caxton learned printing at cologne; the _boke of st albans_, the _chronicles of england_, _morte d'arthur_, _the canterbury tales_, etc., etc. he also issued a host of sermons, almanacs, and other minor works. [illustration: type of wynkyn de worde's higden's polychronicon, london, (_exact size._)] in wynkyn de worde moved from caxton's house in westminster to the sign of the sun, in fleet street, and presently opened another place of business at the sign of our lady of pity, in st paul's churchyard. about a year after caxton had established himself at the red pale, and had issued the _dictes or sayengis_, and two years before the city of london had attained to the dignity of a printing-press, typography began to be practised at oxford, but by whom is not known, though very possibly by theodore rood of cologne. the first oxford book was the _exposicio in simbolum apostolorum_ of st jerome, a work which happens to be dated , and has thereby led some to assign to oxford the credit of having printed the first book in this country. but that date is now acknowledged to be a printer's error for . a similar misprint led to a similar error as to the first book printed in venice. the _decor puellarum_, executed by nicolas jenson, purports to have appeared in , and thus was at one time supposed to be the first book printed in venice, but the date is now recognised as a misprint for , which leaves john of spires the first venetian printer and his _epistolæ familiares_ of cicero, , the first venetian printed book. cambridge was more than forty years later than oxford in providing herself with a printing-press. in the same year that london began to print appeared the first books from the press at the abbey of st albans, namely, _augustini dacti elegancie_, and the _nova rhetorica_ of saona. as both were printed in it is uncertain which is the earlier. this press was probably started in , but of the printer nothing is known, except that when wynkyn de worde reprinted the _chronicles of england_ from a copy printed at st albans, he refers to him as the st albans "scole mayster." the famous _bokys of haukyng and huntyng, and also of cootarmuris_, commonly known as the book of st albans, written by the accomplished juliana berners, prioress of the neighbouring nunnery of sopwell, was printed at the monastery in , and reprinted ten years later by wynkyn de worde. chapter xii early printing in scotland scotland was one of the last of the countries of europe to appreciate the advantages of typography so far as to possess herself of a printing-press. she was also, as we have pointed out in a previous chapter, the only one, save england, and possibly holland, to have the art of printing brought to her by one of her own sons and not by a foreigner. the first scottish printer was andrew myllar, an edinburgh bookseller, who imported books from england and from france, and who, in the latter country, learned how to print. two books are extant which were printed for him on the continent, probably at rouen by laurence hostingue, and these are worth noticing. the first may speak for itself, through its colophon, of which the following is a translation:--"the book of certain 'words equivocal,' in alphabetical order, along with an interpretation in the english tongue, has been happily finished. which andrew myllar, a scotsman, has been solicitous should be printed, with admirable art and corrected with diligent care, both in orthographic style, according to the ability available, and cleared from obscurity. in the year of the christian redemption, one thousand five hundred and fifth." the second book is an _expositio sequentiarum_, or book of sequences, of the salisbury use, printed in . [illustration: myllar's device.] in myllar was taken into partnership by walter chepman, and fortified by a royal privilege these two set up the first scottish printing-press, with plant and types and workmen brought by myllar from france. chepman furnished the capital and myllar the knowledge. their press was situated at the foot of blackfriars wynd in the southgate in edinburgh. the privilege sets forth that myllar and chepman have "at our instance and request, for our plesour, the honour and proffit of our realme and liegis, takin on thame to furnis and bring hame ane prent, with all stuff belangand tharto, and expert men to use the sammyn for imprenting within our realme the bukis of our lawis, actis of parliament, cronicles, mess bukis," etc. it is believed that the favour and encouragement shown to myllar and chepman by the king was the result of the influence of william elphinstone, bishop of aberdeen, who had prepared a breviary, _breviarum aberdonense_, which he wished to be used by his countrymen to the exclusion of the salisbury missal, and that the real purpose of the promotion of the first printing-press in scotland was the printing of this work. for the privilege goes on to say: "and alis it is divisit and thocht expedient be us and our consall, that in tyme cuming mess bukis, efter our awin scottis use, and with legendis of scottis sanctis, as is now gaderit and ekit be ane reverend fader in god, and our traist consalour williame bischope of abirdene and utheris, be usit generaly within al our realme alssone as the sammyn may be imprentit and providet, and that na maner of sic bukis of salusbery use be brocht to be sauld within our realme in tym cuming." anyone infringing this decree was to be punished and the books forfeited. but the earliest work of the southgate press consisted of literature of a lighter sort, and, when dated at all, is dated , while the breviary did not make its appearance till later. these early productions, which survive only in fragments, included _the porteous of noblenes_, _the knightly tale of golagros and gawane_, _sir eglamoure of artoys_, _the maying or disport_ of chaucer, and several others. _the maying or disport_ of chaucer is the most perfect specimen remaining, and its exact date can be ascertained from its colophon, which reads as follows:-- heir endis the maying and disport of chaucer. imprentit in the southgait of edinburgh be walter chepman and androw myllar the fourth day of aprile the yhere of god m.ccccc. and viii yheris. the _maying and disport_ is better known as the _complaynt of a lover's life_, or the _complaynt of the black knight_. * * * * * strange to say, we hear no more of myllar after this. but chepman comes forward again in connection with the breviary (though it is uncertain whether he was its printer), and probably printed some other books which have been lost. the breviary is a small octavo in two volumes, the first of which appeared in and the other in . it is printed in red and black gothic characters. the conclusion of the latin colophon to the second volume may be rendered as follows:-- "printed in the town of edinburgh, by the command and at the charge of the honourable gentleman walter chepman, merchant in the said town, on the fourth day of june in the year of our lord ." the next scottish printer, so far as is known, was a certain john story, though only an _office of our lady of pity_, accompanied by a legend on the subject of the relics of st andrew, remains to testify to us of his existence. it was printed "by command of charles steele," and dr dickson dates it at (perhaps) about . rather more than twenty years later, thomas davidson became king's printer in edinburgh. his only dated work was _the nevv actis and constitvtionis of parliament maid be the rycht excellent prince iames the fift kyng of scottis _. the title-page of this book consists of a large woodcut of the scottish arms, above which is the title in four lines printed in roman capitals. this book also displays all three forms of type--black letter, roman, and italic. its colophon, which is printed in italics, is as follows:-- _imprentit in edinburgh, be thomas davidson, dweling abone the nether bow, on the north syde of the gait, the aucht day of februarii, the zeir of god. . zeris._ but there is some of davidson's undated work which is earlier than this, though it is not known for certain when he began to print. of these undated publications, _ad serenissimum scotorum regem iacobum quintum de suscepto regni regimine a diis feliciter ominato strena_ is notable as affording the earliest example of the use of roman type by a scottish printer, for its title is printed in these characters. only one copy is known, and that is in the british museum. opinions differ as to its date, but the majority assign it to the year . davidson's most important production, however, was his beautiful folio edition of bellenden's translation of hector boece's work, _the hystory and croniklis of scotland_. this, says dr dickson, is "an almost unrivalled specimen of early british typography. it is one of those gems which the earlier period of the art so frequently produced, but which no future efforts of the press have surpassed or even equalled." it has a title-page similar to that of the _nevv actis_, but the title itself is printed in handsome red gothic characters. dr dickson, to whose learned _annals of scottish printing_ (completed, on account of the author's ill-health, by mr j. p. edmond) i am indebted for the details of early scottish typography given above, assigns this book to the year . having seen the printing-press fairly set to work in scotland, it will not be necessary here to notice its later productions. but before closing the chapter it will be interesting to observe that edinburgh was the place of publication of the first work printed in the gaelic language. this was bishop carswell's translation of the scottish prayer-book, which was printed in by roibeard (robert) lekprevik. it is in the form of gaelic common at that time to both scotland and ireland, and therefore as regards language it forestalls the _irish alphabet and catechism_, dublin, , to which reference is made below. the type of carswell's prayer-book, however, is roman. the following is a translation of its title-page, made by dr m'lauchlan:-- forms of prayer and administration of the sacraments and catechism of the christian faith, here below. according as they are practised in the churches of scotland which have loved and accepted the faithful gospel of god, on having put away the false faith, turned from the latin and english into gaelic by mr john carswell minister of the church of god in the bounds of argyll, whose other name is bishop of the isles. no other foundation can any man lay save that which is laid even jesus christ. cor. . printed in dún edin whose other name is dún monaidh the th day of april , by roibeard lekprevik. lekprevik, whose first work, so far as is known, was produced in , printed not only in edinburgh, but also in stirling and st andrews, at different times. chapter xiii early printing in ireland in heading a chapter "early printing in ireland," one is somewhat reminded of the celebrated chapter on snakes. as a matter of fact, however, there is no real analogy. ireland was very slow to adopt the printing-press, and made little use of it when she did adopt it, yet it would not be quite accurate to say that there was no early printing in ireland. but it can truthfully be said that ireland's early printing was late--late, that is, compared with that of other countries. the first typographical work known to have been produced in ireland is the book of common prayer--the first prayer-book of edward vi.--which was printed in dublin in by humfrey powell. powell was a printer in holborn conduit in , and in went to dublin and set up as king's printer. a "proclamation ... against the rebels of the o'conors.... imprynted at dublyn, by humfrey powell, th august, ," seems to be the only other known specimen of his dublin printing. the colophon of the first book printed on irish ground is as follows:-- imprinted by humfrey powell, printer to the kynges maiestie, in his hyghnesse realme of ireland, dwellyng in the citee of dublin in the great toure by the crane. _cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum_ anno domini m.d.li. this prayer-book is exceedingly rare. the british museum possesses no copy, but has to content itself with photographs showing the title, colophon, etc., of that in the library of trinity college, dublin. emanuel college, cambridge, has one which formerly belonged to archbishop sancroft. cotton, in his _typographical gazetteer_, says that powell's prayer-book is most creditable to the early irish press. it is in the english language, and printed in black letter. the first book printed in the gaelic language, though in roman type, has already been spoken of. the first gaelic type was exhibited to the world in a tiny volume of fifty-four pages printed at dublin in , and entitled _irish alphabet and catechism_. this was compiled by john o'kearney, and contained the elements of the irish language, the catechism, some prayers, and archbishop parker's articles of the christian rule. the following is a facsimile of the title-page to which a translation is added:-- irish alphabet and catechism. precept or instruction of a christian, together with certain articles of the christian rule, which are proper for everyone to adopt who would be submissive to the ordinance of god and of the queen in this kingdom; translated from latin and english into irish by john o'kearney. awake, why sleepest thou, o lord? arise, cast us not off for ever. ps. xliv. ver. . printed in irish in the town of the ford of the hurdles, at the cost of master john usher, alderman, at the head of the bridge, the th day of june . with the privilege of the great queen. [illustration: title-page of o'kearney's irish alphabet and catechism (_slightly reduced_)] this book was produced by john o'kearney, sometime treasurer of st patrick's cathedral, and his friend nicholas walsh, chancellor of st patrick's and afterwards bishop of ossory, and the john usher who defrayed the expense was then collector of customs of the port of dublin. its appearance was considered a momentous event by those concerned with it, for great benefits were anticipated for the irish people as soon as "their national tongue and its own dear alphabet" were reduced to print, as o'kearney states at some length in the preface. he also tells us that the types from which this volume was printed were provided "at the cost of the high, pious, great, and mighty prince elizabeth." in this connection it is worth while to notice two extant records, one among the state papers (irish series) and the other among the acts of the privy council. from the first, made some time in december , we gather that queen elizabeth had already paid £ . s. d. "for the making of carecters for the testament in irishe," and that this testament was not yet in the press. the second (august ) states that the new testament was translated into irish by walsh and o'kearney, but "never imprynted, partlie for want of proper characters and men of that nacion and language skillful in the mystery of pryntyng," and partly on account of the cost. i can find no other record of the provision of a fount of irish types at the queen's expense, and having no more definite information at hand on this point, and taking into consideration the contents of the book--an irish alphabet, and directions for reading irish, and a catechism, etc. (by way of exercise?)--its diminutive size and the imperfection of its print, i venture the suggestion that o'kearney's work was printed as a trial of the new types given by the queen and intended for printing the new testament. this view is supported by the first words of the preface: "here, o reader, you have the first value and fruit of that great instructive work, which i have been producing and devising for you for a long time, that is, the faithful and perfect type of the gaelic tongue." the conclusion seems to be that the types were inadequate for the larger work, and that for some reason there was a difficulty about supplying more or finding anyone to undertake the printing. the preface further says, after requesting corrections and amendments as regards the typography: "and it is not alone that i am asking you to give this kind friendly correction to the printing, but also to the translation or rendering made of this catechism put forth as far back as of the age of the lord and [which] is now more correct and complete, with the principal articles of the christian faith associated therewith." this has led some to think that there was an earlier edition of the _alphabet and catechism_. but it seems plain that o'kearney refers to the catechism only, not to the whole book, and equally plain that the work, whatever it was, was not printed in irish type, or there would have been no special occasion to glorify the _alphabet and catechism_. since nothing is known of the _catechism_ of , it is very possible that it existed only in manuscript and never went to press. i have gone into this matter of the _irish alphabet and catechism_ of somewhat at length, because i am not aware that it has ever yet received detailed attention. the quotations i have given from the preface are from an anonymous manuscript translation inserted in the british museum copy. o'kearney's _irish alphabet and catechism_ is so rare that only three copies are known to exist: one being in the british museum, one in the bodleian library, and one in the library of lincoln cathedral. the fount of types from which it was printed was not quite correct; for instance, the small roman "a" is used, and an "h" is introduced, a letter foreign to the gaelic alphabet. during the seventeenth century, and even later, most of the irish books were sent to be printed on the continent or in england. several books by irish authors, chiefly catechisms, works on the language, and dictionaries, bear the names of louvain, antwerp, rome or paris, such as the _catechism_ of bonaventure hussey, printed at louvain in , and reprinted at antwerp in and . chapter xiv book bindings a book as we know it is usually contained in a case or cover intended primarily for its protection. the fastening together of the different sections of the book, and the providing it with a cover, and, incidentally, the decoration of that cover, come under the head of bookbinding, or bibliopegy, as the learned call it. the process of binding consists of two parts: first, the arrangement of the leaves and sections in proper order, their preparation for sewing by beating or pressing, the stitching of them together, and the fastening of them into the cover. this is called "forwarding." the other half of the work is the lettering and decoration of the cover, and is called "finishing." with the decoration of the cover only can we concern ourselves here. the art of binding books is far older than the art of printing. the first known attempt to provide a cover by way of protection for a document was made by the workman who devised a clay case for the clay tablet-books of babylonia, but this is as far from our notion of bookbinding as the tablets themselves are from our notion of books. nor do the roman bindings, which consisted of coloured parchment wrappers, come much nearer the modern conception. the ivory cases of the double-folding wax tablets or diptychs, too, of the second and third centuries, a.d., are also outside the pale, strictly speaking, but they deserve mention on account of the beautiful carving with which they are decorated, and on which some of the finest byzantine art was expended. one of the earliest bookbinders or book-cover decorators whose name has come down to us was dagæus, an irish monk, and a clever worker in metals. among the many beautiful objects in metal wrought in the old irish monasteries were skilfully designed covers and clasps for the books which were so highly prized in the "isle of saints." nor were covers alone deemed sufficient protection from wear and tear. satchels, or polaires, such as that mentioned in adamnan's story of the miraculous preservation of st columba's hymn-book, were in common use for conveying books from place to place. very few specimens now remain, but there is one at corpus christi college, cambridge, containing an irish missal, and another, which is preserved at trinity college, dublin, together with the _book of armagh_, to which it belongs, is thus described by the rev. t. k. abbott, in the _book of trinity college_:-- "an interesting object connected with the _book of armagh_ is its leather satchel, finely embossed with figures of animals and interlaced work. it is formed of a single piece of leather, in. long and ½ broad, folded so as to make a flat-sided pouch, in. high, ¾ broad, and ¼ deep. part of it is doubled over to make a flap, in which are eight brass-bound slits, corresponding to as many brass loops projecting from the case, in which ran two rods, meeting in the middle, where they were secured by a lock. in early times, in irish monastic libraries, books were kept in such satchels, which were suspended by straps from hooks in the wall. thus it is related in an old legend that 'on the night of longaradh's death all the book-satchels in ireland fell down.'" in ireland, too, specially valuable volumes were enclosed in a book-shrine, or cumhdach; and although, like the satchels, these cumhdachs are not bindings in the proper sense of the word, yet since they were intended for the same purpose as bindings, that is, the protection of the book, it will not be out of place to speak of them here. the use of bookshrines in ireland was very possibly the survival of an early custom of the primitive church. it seems to have been applied chiefly, if not always, to books too precious or sacred to be read. we are told that a psalter belonging to the o'donels was fastened up in a case that was not to be opened; and were it ever unclosed, deaths and disasters would ensue to the clan. if borne by a priest of unblemished character thrice round their troops before a battle, it was believed to have the power of granting them victory, provided their cause were a righteous one. cumhdachs were also used in scotland, but no scottish examples have survived. the oldest cumhdach now existing is one in the museum of the royal irish academy, which was made for the ms. known as molaise's gospels, at the beginning of the eleventh century. it is of bronze, and ornamented with silver plates bearing gilt patterns. another book-shrine, made for the stowe missal a little later, is of oak, covered with silver plates, and decorated with a large oval crystal in the middle of one side. the book of kells once had a golden cumhdach, we are told, or, more correctly, perhaps, a cumhdach covered with gold plates; but when the book was stolen from the church of kells in it was despoiled of its costly case, with which the robbers made off, leaving the most precious part of their booty, the book itself, lying on the ground hidden by a sod. one of the earliest bookbinders in this country was a bishop, ethilwold of lindisfarne, who bound the great book of the gospels that his predecessor eadfrid had written. for the same book billfrið the anchorite made a beautiful metal cover, gilded and bejewelled. the lindisfarne gospels still exists, but the cover which now contains it, though costly, is quite new. like most ancient book covers the original one has been lost, or destroyed for the sake of its valuable material. among the earlier mediæval bindings those of the byzantine school of art rank very high. they were exceedingly splendid, for gold was their prevailing feature, and jewels and enamel were also lavished upon them. the ordinary books of the middle ages were usually bound in substantial oak boards covered with leather, and often having clasps, corners, and protecting bosses of metal. in the twelfth century the english leather bindings produced at london, winchester, durham and other centres, were pre-eminent. miss prideaux instances some books which were bound for bishop pudsey, and which are now in the cathedral library of durham, as "perhaps the finest monuments of this class of work in existence." the sides of these volumes are blind-tooled; that is, the designs are impressed by means of dies or tools with various patterns and representations of men and of fabulous creatures, but not gilded. certain volumes, however, were treated with particular honour, either at the expense of a wealthy and book-loving owner, or for the purpose of presentation to some great personage, and for these sumptuous bindings the materials employed were various and costly. a latin psalter which was written for melissenda, wife of fulk, count of anjou and king of jerusalem, has a very wonderful french binding. the covers are of wood, and each bears a series of delicate ivory carvings of byzantine work. the upper cover shows incidents in the life of david, and symbolical figures, and the lower cover scenes representing the works of mercy, with figures of birds and animals. rubies and turquoises dotted here and there help to beautify the ivory. this book is in the british museum. [illustration: upper cover of melissenda's psalter (_reduced_).] another specimen in the same collection may be taken as an example of the use of enamel as a decoration for bindings. this is a latin manuscript of the gospels of ss. luke and john, which is enclosed in wooden boards bound in red leather. in the upper cover is a sunk panel of limoges enamel on copper gilt, representing christ in glory. the work is of the thirteenth century. these enamelled bindings were often additionally decorated with gold and jewels. a curious little modification of the ordinary leather binding was sometimes made in the case of small devotional works. the leather of the back and sides was continued at the bottom in a long tapering slip, at the end of which was a kind of button, so that the book might be fastened to the dress or girdle. slender chains were often used for the same purpose. about the time of the invention of printing, leather bindings began to be decorated with gold tooling. tooling is the name given to the designs impressed upon the leather with various small dies so manipulated as to make a connected pattern. when the impressions are gilded the dull leather is brightened and beautified in proportion to the skill and taste expended by the workman. the art of gold tooling is believed to have originated in the east, and to have been brought to italy by venetian traders, or, as it has also been suggested, through the manuscripts which were dispersed at the fall of constantinople. in any case, it was in italy that it was first adopted and brought to perfection, and other european countries learned the art from italian craftsmen. chief among the early italian gilt bindings are those made of the finest leathers and inscribed tho. maioli et amicorvm. nothing whatever is known of thomasso maioli, except that he had a large library and spared no expense in clothing his books in bibliopegic purple and fine linen. what maioli appears to have been among italian book-collectors, jean grolier, vicomte d'aguisy, was among french bibliophiles. he held for a time the post of treasurer of the duchy of milan, and while in italy he collected books for his library and made the acquaintance of aldus manutius. many of the aldine books are dedicated to him, for aldus occasionally stood in need of financial aid and found in grolier a generous and practical patron of literature. some of the famous bindings which distinguish grolier's books were executed in italy, others in france, where italian bookbinders were then teaching their art to the native workmen. they display the same style of design that decorates the books of maioli, and maioli's benevolent inscription too, grolier adapted to his own use, and stamped upon certain of his books io. grolierii et amicorvm. the exact signification of these words is obscure. at first sight they might appear to refer delicately to the joy with which the owner of the book would place it at the disposal of his friends, but this does not accord with what is known of the character of book-lovers. perhaps their only meaning is that maioli and grolier were at all times ready to please their friends and to gratify themselves by exhibiting their treasures. but since several copies of the same work are known to have been bound for grolier--for instance, five copies of the aldine virgil--it has been suggested that he occasionally made presents of his books, though he drew the line at lending them. grolier's copy of the _de medicina_ of celsus, which is in the british museum, is bound in a somewhat different style from that usually associated with his name. it is in brown leather; blind-tooled except for some gold and coloured roundels in different parts of the device. in the centre of both covers is a medallion in colours, that on the upper cover representing curtius leaping into the abyss in the forum, and that on the lower cover representing the defence of the bridge by horatius. this is an italian binding. although it was italy who first improved upon the usual methods of mediæval binding, and from her that france took lessons in this new and better way of clothing books, it was france who was destined to bring the art to its highest excellence. having learned her lesson, she perfected herself in it, and the workmen of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, such as geoffroy tory, nicholas, clovis, and robert eve, and le gascon, carried french bookbinding into the very first rank, where it may be considered to remain to this day. some of the finest french examples extant are those which were executed for henry ii. and diana of poitiers, duchess of valentinois. both were ardent bibliophiles, and both indulged in very sumptuous bindings for their books. some of the chief treasures in our great libraries to-day are the beautiful volumes which henry presented to the duchess, and which are ornamented with the royal lilies of france, accompanied by the bows and arrows and crescents which were diana's own badges and the initials of the king and the duchess. catherine de medicis also was an enthusiastic book collector, which may surprise those who think that a person who is devoted to books is necessarily harmless. some of her books she brought to france as part of her dowry, others she acquired by fair means or foul as was most convenient, and to their bindings she paid particular attention and kept a staff of bookbinders in her employ. to such a pitch of extravagance did the bibliophiles of the period go in the binding of their books, that in henry iii. of france decreed that ordinary citizens should not use more than four diamonds to the decoration of one book, and the nobility not more than five. the king himself, however, was as extravagant as any of his subjects, at any rate as regards the designs he favoured. many of his books are clad in black morocco, bearing representations of skulls, cross-bones, tears, and other melancholy emblems. he developed his taste for these strange decorations, it is said, when, as duke of anjou, he loved and lost mary of clèves. the early printers at first executed their own bookbinding, but presently left it to the stationers. it was generally only the larger works which they thought worth covering, and the small ones were simply stitched. antony koburger, of whom mention has already been made, bound his own books and ornamented them in a style peculiarly his own. caxton bound his according to the prevailing fashion, with leather sides, plain or blind-tooled with diagonal lines, forming diamond-shaped compartments in each of which is stamped a species of dragon. about the sixteenth century it became fashionable to have one's books "full goodly bound in pleasant coverture of damask, satin, or else of velvet pure," as a writer of the time expresses it, and this style naturally lent itself to the needleworked decoration. this decoration was especially favoured in england, and the ladies of the period executed some very fine pieces of embroidery as "pleasant covertures" for their books, using coloured silks and gold and silver thread on velvet or other material. one of the earliest embroidered bindings covers a description of the holy land, written by martin brion, and dedicated to henry viii. it is of crimson velvet, with the english arms enclosed in the garter, between two h's, and the tudor rose in each corner, and it is worked in silks, gold thread, and seed pearls. queen elizabeth is said to have preferred embroidered bindings to those of leather, and to have been very skilful in working them. the copy of _de antiquitate britannicæ ecclesiæ_, which the author, archbishop parker, presented to the queen, has a cover which is very elaborately embroidered indeed. it is of contemporary english work, and is thus described in the british museum _guide to the printed books exhibited in the king's library_:-- "green velvet, having as a border a representation of the paling of a deer park, embroidered in gold and silver thread; the border on the upper cover enclosing a rose bush bearing red and white roses, surrounded by various other flowers, and by deer; the lower cover has a similar border, but contains deer, snakes, plants and flowers; the whole being executed in gold and silver thread and coloured silks. on the back are embroidered red and white roses." embroidered bindings remained in fashion during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and plain velvet, too, was often used, sometimes with gold or silver mounts. the old royal library, which was given to the nation by george ii., contains a large number of sumptuous bookbindings; and that our sovereigns were not unmindful of the welfare of their literary treasures may also be gathered from various entries in the wardrobe books and from other documents. thus, we read that edward iv. paid alice clavers, "for the makyng of xvj. laces and xvj. tassels for the garnysshing of divers of the kinge's bookes ijs. viijd."; and "piers bauduyn, stacioner, for bynding gilding and dressing of a booke called _titus livius_ xxs., for binding gilding and dressing of a booke of the _the holy trinity_ xvjs.," and so on. again, in the bill delivered to henry viii. by thomas berthelet, his majesty's printer and binder, are found such entries as these:-- "item delyvered to the kinge's highnes the vj. day of january a psalter in englische and latine covered with crimoysyn satyne, s." "item delyvered to the kinge's hyghnes for a little psalter, takyng out of one booke and settyng in an other in the same place, and for gorgeous binding of the same booke xijd.; and to the goldesmythe for taking off the claspes and corners and for setting on the same ageyne xvjd." among the various styles which may be classed as fancy bindings may be instanced the seventeenth century tortoise-shell covers with silver mounts and ornaments, which have a very handsome effect, and the mosaic decoration of the same period. this mosaic decoration was made by inlaying minute pieces of differently coloured leathers, and finishing them with gold tooling. it was work which called for great dexterity in manipulation, and in skilful hands the result was very pretty and graceful. even from this slight sketch it will be seen that bookbindings have always presented unlimited opportunities for originality on the part of the worker, as regards both design and material. wood and leather, gold and silver, ivory and precious stones, coloured enamels, impressed papier-mâché, gold-tooled leather and embroidered fabric, pasteboard and parchment, have all been pressed into the service, and the subject of bookbindings is a fascinating branch of book history. but from their nature bindings are difficult to describe in an interesting manner, and words can hardly do justice to them without the aid of facsimile illustrations. the ordinary bindings of to-day are practically confined to two styles, the cloth and the leather, and those combinations of leather and cloth or leather and paper which make the covers of half-bound and quarter-bound volumes. cloth binding, the binding of the nineteenth century, is an english invention, and came into use in . on the continent books are still issued in paper covers and badly stitched, on the assumption that if worth binding at all, they will be bound by the purchaser as he pleases. but although the english commercial cloth binding is often charged for far too highly, no one can deny its convenience, and its superiority over the paper undress of foreign works. moreover, it is the homely, everyday garb of the great majority of our favourite volumes, and though, no doubt, it is delightful to possess books sumptuously bound, book-lovers of less ambition, or of lighter purses than those who can command such luxuries, are not very much to be pitied. there is something characteristic about a book in a cloth cover which it loses when it dons the livery of its owner's library. cloth is not only more varied in texture, but admits of greater freedom and variety of design than does leather, so there is something to be said in its favour in spite of the contention that direct handicraft is preferable to handicraft which works through a machine, and that one of a batch of bindings printed by the thousand is not to be compared with a single specimen of tooled leather which has cost a pair of human hands hours of careful toil. the little libraries with which so many of us have to be contented owe their bright and cheerful appearance to the cloth covers of the books, in which each book stands out with modest directness, wearing its individuality instead of losing it in a crowd of neighbours dressed exactly like itself. in a series uniformly bound, however, a family likeness is not only admissible, but pleasing. it gives an idea of unison among, perhaps, widely differing individuals. but the unison which is becoming to a family makes a community monotonous. on the other hand, something stronger than cloth is necessary when books are to be subjected to special wear and tear, and desirable when a volume is to be particularly honoured or when the library it is to enter is large and important. protection is the first purpose of a binding, and endurance its first quality, and the experience of centuries has shown that the walls in the fairy-tale were right when they said, "gilding will fade in damp weather, to endure, there is nothing like leather." in which, perhaps, the book-lover will see a parable. for, after all, the book is the thing, and the cover a mere circumstance, and those who wish to make books merely pegs to hang bindings upon deserve to have no books at all. yet it is right that though the binding should not be raised above the book, it should be worthy of the book, and much of the cheap and good literature which is now within the reach of all who care to stretch out their hands for it, is clothed in a manner to which no exception can be taken on any score. those who have not realised how charming some of the modern bookbindings can be, should consult the winter number of _the studio_ for - . chapter xv how a modern book is produced a description of the methods by which a modern book is produced has to begin at the second stage of the proceedings. the processes of the first stage, including the writing of the book and the arrangements between the publisher and the author, differ, of course, in individual cases. the processes of the second stage, however, are common to a large proportion of the books produced at the present day, though it will be easily understood that they can be dealt with but summarily in this chapter, and that as regards detail much variation is possible. the second stage in the history of a modern book may be said to begin with the overhauling which the manuscript receives at the hands of the printer's "reader," who goes over it with the view of instructing the compositor regarding capitals, punctuation, chapter headings and other details. although these are considered minor and merely clerical details which are frequently neglected or misused in writing, it is essential that they be carefully attended to in print. many examples can be given of amusing misprints and alterations of meaning caused by even such a trifle as the misplacing of a comma. when this overhauling is completed the manuscript is ready to be sent to the composing room where the types are set up. from experience the printer knows that many authors get a different impression of what they have written when they see it in type from what they had when they read it in manuscript, and it frequently happens that alterations on proof are very numerous in consequence. when either from this or any other cause numerous alterations are anticipated, the matter is first set up in long slips called "galleys," and not put at once into page form. as soon as a few of those galleys are composed an impression called a "proof" is taken from the types so set, and this proof is passed to a reader whose duty is to see that a correct copy is made of the manuscript, and that the spelling is accurate and the punctuation good. this is a work commanding considerable intelligence and experience, as the number of types required for a printed page is very great, and even the most expert compositor cannot avoid mistakes. this marked proof is returned to the compositor to make the necessary corrections. fresh proofs are got till no further errors are detected, when a final proof is pulled and sent to the author, who makes such alterations as he may desire. when the corrected proofs are returned by the author they are given to the compositor, who makes the required alterations in the type. after this a revised proof is submitted. when the author is satisfied that the reading is as he wishes he returns the proofs, and the galleys are now made into page form. if it is not expected that the author will make many changes the types are arranged in page shape before any proofs are shown to him, and the work goes through somewhat more quickly. when the types are divided into pages they are placed in sets or "formes," each forme being secured in an iron frame called a "chase," which can be conveniently moved about. each chase is of a size to enclose as many pages as will cover one side of the sheet of paper to be used in printing. fifty years ago only one or two sizes of paper were made, and the size of sheet generally used for books was that which allowed eight pages of library size on one side, hence called "octavo" size, or when folded another way allowed twelve pages, hence "twelvemo" or "duodecimo." other sizes occasionally used are called "sixteenmo" or "sextodecimo," "eighteenmo" or "octodecimo," etc. with larger sized printing machines now driven by steam or electricity, there is greater variety in the size of formes and papers used in printing. in all cases, however, the number of pages laid down for one side of paper must divide by four. the pages are set in the chase in special positions, so that when the sheet is printed on both sides and folded over and over for binding they will appear in proper sequence. when only a small edition of a book is wanted the printing is generally done direct from the types, but when a large number of copies is required or frequent editions are expected, stereotype or electrotype plates are made. by this means the types are released for further use and other advantages obtained. stereotype plates are cakes of white metal carrying merely the face of the types, and were formerly made by taking from the types a mould of plaster of paris. they are now formed by beating or pressing a prepared pulp of papier-mâché into the face of the lettering. the mould thus obtained is dried and hardened by heat, then molten metal is run into it of requisite thickness. this plate after being properly dressed is fitted on a block equal in height to the type stem, and takes the place in the frame or chase that would have been occupied by the types. the process of stereotyping is fairly quick and economical, but electrotypes are better suited for higher class work and are much more durable. in this process an impression is taken from the type on a surface of wax heated to the necessary degree of plasticity. when the wax mould has cooled and hardened it is placed in a galvanic current, where a thin coat of copper is deposited on its face. this coat is then detached from the mould and backed with white metal to give it the requisite body and stiffness and the electrotype is now, like the stereotype, a metal plate which can be fixed on a block and secured in a frame ready for the printing machine. it is outside the scope of this work to describe minutely the marvellous machinery used in printing. it is interesting to know that the first printers had no machine but a screw handpress by which they laboriously worked off their books page by page, and that even so late as the middle of the nineteenth century all books with scarcely an exception were printed at handpresses which enabled two men to throw off about two hundred and fifty copies of a comparatively small-sized sheet in the hour. now the machines commonly in use, attended by only a man and a lad, throw off from a thousand to fifteen hundred copies in an hour of a sheet four or even eight times the old size. books are almost universally printed on what is called the flat-bed machine, so-called because the types or plates are placed on an iron table which with them travels to and fro under a series of revolving rollers constantly being fed with a supply of ink which they transfer to the types or plates. immediately these get beyond the inking rollers they pass under a revolving cylinder with a set of grippers attached, which open and shut with each revolution. these grippers take hold of the sheet of paper and carry it round with the cylinder. when it comes in contact with the types or plates travelling underneath, the impression or print is made. some machines complete the printing of the sheet on both sides at one operation. in others the sheet is reversed and is printed on the other side by passing through a second time. in either case the sheet forms only a section of a book; the complete volume is made up of a number of these sections, folded and collated in proper order in the bindery. there they are sewn together and fixed in the case or cover. for illustrated books the pictures were formerly produced by engraving on wood, but they are now chiefly photographed from the artist's drawing on a light sensitive film spread on a metal plate, and etched in by acids. in whatever way produced, when printed with the text they are always relief blocks which are placed in proper position in the chase alongside the types or plates. coloured illustrations are produced by successive printings. special illustrations are frequently produced separately by other processes and inserted in the volume by the binder. machines of a different construction, such as the rotary press, and capable of a very much higher rate of production, are in use for printing newspapers and periodicals with a large circulation, but these do not properly come into consideration when telling how a modern book is made. [_the above chapter has been kindly contributed by the printers of this volume._ _g. b. r._] author's postscript. in our endeavour to note the chief points in the history of books, and in considering the manifold interests which are bound up with their bodies, we have had to neglect their minds. to have tried even to touch upon the vast subject of literature in our story would have been as futile as an attempt to transport the ocean in a thimble. for literature consists of all that is transferable of human knowledge and experience, all that is expressible of human thought on whatever matter in heaven or earth has been dreamed of in man's philosophy. and though our aggregate of knowledge be small, it is vastly beyond the comprehension of one individual being. of the influence of books, and their manifold uses, also, this is not the place to speak. moreover, even had the theme been unheeded by abler pens, no one who loves books needs to be told to how many magic portals they are the keys, while he who loves them not would not understand for all the telling in the world. index a. aberdeen breviary, - . advertisements, early booksellers', . alcuin, , . aldus manutius, , , , . aleria, bp. of, . alexandria, , - . alost, . alphabet, the, . amsterdam, . antiquarii, . antwerp, . arabs, the, . assyria, , , . assyrians, . augsburg, . aungervyle, r. (_see_ richard de bury). ave maria lane, . avignon, . b. babylonia, , , . babylonians, . bamberg, , , . basle, . benedict biscop, . beowulf, . berthelet, thomas, . bible, the, . ---- mazarin or gutenberg, - . ---- thirty-six-line, . ---- mentz, , . biblia pauperum, - , . bibliothèque nationale, , . bindings, , . block-books, , . block-printing, . bonhomme, pasquier, . book of durrow, . ---- kells, - . ---- st albans, , , . ---- st cuthbert (_see_ lindisfarne gospels). book, production of modern, . bookbinding, - . books, adventures of, . ---- beginning of, . ---- chained, , , . ---- heretical, . ---- in classical times, . ---- in monasteries, - , , . ---- not to be destroyed, . ---- ornamenting of, . ---- prices of, , . ---- sizes of, . booksellers, , , - . bordesley abbey, . breslau, . brethren of the common life, . breviary, aberdeen, - . bruges, , , , , - . brussels, . "brussels" print, . byzantium, , . c. caedmon, . cambridge, , , , . campanus, , . canterbury, , , . carrells, . carswell's prayer-book, . catalogues, early booksellers', . ---- monastic library, - . catechism, irish alphabet and, , - . caxton, , - , - , , . censorship, ecclesiastical, , . ---- university, . chelsea, . chepman, walter, . china, , , . clairvaux abbey, . clement of padua, , . clugni, abbey of, . cologne, , , . colophons, . copyists, , , , , , , . copyright, . corvey, abbot of, . coster, laurenz, , - . cranz, martin, . creed lane, . cumhdachs, , . d. davidson, thomas, . dictes or sayengis, , . diemudis, . donatus, , , . dorchester, . dublin, , - , , . durham, , , . e. edinburgh, , , , , , , . egypt, , , , , , - , . electrotype plates, printing from, . elizabeth, queen, , , , . elzevirs, the, , . england, , , , , . f. faust or fust, , , , , , . fichet, guillaume, . florence, . fountains abbey, . france, , , , , , , , , . friburger, michael, . g. game and playe of the chesse, , . gering, ulric, . germany, , , , , , , , . glastonbury abbey, . gloucester, . greece, , , , , , , . greeks, the, . grolier, jean, , . guild of st john the evangelist, . gutenberg, - , - , , . h. haarlem, - , - , . hahn, ulric, , , , . herculaneum, . hereford cathedral, . holborn, , . holland, , , , , , , , , , . hostingue, laurence, , . i. illuminators, , , . ireland, , , , , . irish alphabet and catechism, , , . italy, , , , , , , , , , , . italic type, . j. japan, , . jenson, nicolas, , , . junius, hadrian, . k. kelmscott press, . ketelaer, nycolaum, . kirkstall abbey, . klosterneuburg, . koburger, antony, , . l. lanfranc, . latin document, earliest, . latin names of towns, . leempt, gerard de, . lettou, john, . leicester, . lekprevik, roibeard, , . leland, . leyden, . libraries, ancient, - . ---- collegiate, . ---- monastic, - . librarii, , . lignamine, j. p. de, . lindisfarne gospels, - , . lincoln cathedral, , . literature, anglo-saxon, . ---- beginning of, . ---- of greece, , , . literatures, antique, . london, , , , , , , , , . louvain, , , . lubeck, . lyons, , . m. machlinia, william de, , . maioli, thomasso, , . mansion, colard, , , , . manuscript, oldest biblical, . ---- oldest homeric, . ---- oldest new testament, , . manuscripts, arabic, . ---- arabic-spanish, . ---- byzantine, . ---- classical, , . ---- coptic, . ---- of four gospels, . ---- greek, , , . ---- hiberno-saxon, . ---- illuminated, - . ---- irish, , - , . ---- italian, . ---- moorish, . ---- printed illustrations in, . ---- syriac, . ---- winchester, . ---- of virgil, . marienthal, . mentelin, john, . mentz, , , , , , , - , , , , , . monasteries, books in, - , , . monastic writing, , , , , , , , . morris, william, . musical notes printed, , . myllar, andrew, - . n. naples, . netley abbey, . new testament, , . nineveh, . nuremberg, , , . o. o'kearney, john, , - . old testament, , , . omar, caliph, . oxford, , , , , , , . oxyrhynchus, . p. paternoster row, , . palestine, . palimpsests, . pannartz (_see_ sweynheim). papyrus, . paris, , , , , , , , , . ---- council of, . philobiblon, , , . peterborough, . petrarch, , , . pfister, albrecht, , . poggio bracciolini, . powell, humfrey, . printed illustrations in mss., . printers as editors and publishers, . ---- as booksellers, . ---- as bookbinders, . printing, , - . ---- in colours, . ---- machines for, , , . psalter, melissenda's, - . ---- mentz, , . ---- queen mary's, . publication, mediæval, . publishers, , . pye or pica, . pynson, richard, . r. "r" printer, . ramsey abbey, . reichenau abbey, . richard de bury, , , , , , . romans, . rome, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . rood, theodore, . rostock, . rouen, , . royal library of england, , . ---- of france, . s. satchels or polaires, , . schoeffer, peter, , , , , . scandinavians, . scotland, , , . seraglio library, , . sopwell, . spain, , . speculum humanæ salvationis, - , , , . spira, john de, , , . ---- vindelinus de, , . spires, . ---- john of (_see_ spira). st albans, , , . st andrews, . st boniface, . st columba, , . "st christopher" print, . st gall, abbey of, , . st paul's cathedral, . stationers, , . ---- company of, . stereotype plates, printing from, . stirling, . story, john, . strasburg, , , , , , , , . subiaco, , . sweynheim and pannartz, , , , , . t. tablets, , , . the hague, . theodore, abp., , . therhoernen, arnold, , . tintern abbey, . titchfield abbey, , . title-page, - . tooling, . type or types, aldino, , . ---- caxton's, . ---- early, . ---- gaelic or irish, , - . ---- gothic, , . ---- greek, . ---- italic, . ---- moveable, - . ---- roman, , . ---- subiaco, . ---- scottish printers', , . ---- wood and metal, , . u. ulm, . usher, john, . utrecht, , . v. veldener, john, . venice, , , , , , , , . vienna, . virgil, aldine, , , . w. waldfoghel, procopius, . walsh, nicholas, , . westminster, , , - , . whitby, . wimborne minster, . winchester, , , , . woodcuts, early english, . worcester, . writers of text letter, . writing, , . wynkyn de worde, , , . z. zel, ulric, . zutphen, . turnbull and spears, printers, edinburgh. [ transcriber's note: the following is a list of corrections made to the original. the first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. type of mentz indulgence type of the mentz indulgence canon of the third council of constantinople, held in , a.d., enacted canon of the third council of constantinople, held in a.d., enacted the result of the professor's researches went to confirm the belief held the result of the professor's researches went to confirm the belief held writings were transscribed, chronicles and histories compiled, and writings were transcribed, chronicles and histories compiled, and manner of person shall print any manner of boke or paper .. except the manner of person shall print any manner of boke or paper ... except the at which the reader might sit. pembroke college and queen's college, at which the reader might sit. pembroke college and queens' college, of tychefield four cases (_columnæ_) in which to place books, of which of tychefeld four cases (_columnæ_) in which to place books, of which klosterneuberg, near vienna, which originally contained forty-five klosterneuburg, near vienna, which originally contained forty-five half of the fifteen century. yet it is believed that probably more half of the fifteenth century. yet it is believed that probably more established at strasburg, bamberg, cologne, augsberg, nuremberg, established at strasburg, bamberg, cologne, augsburg, nuremberg, debateable ground we will only add that the _recuyell of the historyes debateable ground we will only add that the _recuyell of the histories first english book with printed musical notes; bartholomæus _de first english book with printed musical notes; bartholomæus' _de in the english tongue, has been happily finished. which androw myllar, a in the english tongue, has been happily finished. which andrew myllar, a fourth day of apile the yhere of god m.ccccc. and viii yheris. fourth day of aprile the yhere of god m.ccccc. and viii yheris. [illustration: title-page of okearney's irish alphabet and catechism [illustration: title-page of o'kearney's irish alphabet and catechism hooks in the wall. thus it is related in an old legend that "on the hooks in the wall. thus it is related in an old legend that 'on the down." down.'" augsberg, . augsburg, . klosterneuberg, . klosterneuburg, . psalter, melissanda's, - . psalter, melissenda's, - . speculum humanæ salvationis, - , , . speculum humanæ salvationis, - , , , . tooling, , tooling, . ] the enemies of books by william blades _revised and enlarged by the author_ second edition london elliot stock, paternoster row transcriber's note: ae, l, e, <_:>, oe, <_/_>, ' , and n "larsen" encodes. es = superscripted e ( th cent. english on p needs proofed!) <oe > denotes words in 'olde englishe font' "emphasis" _italics_ have a * mark. footnotes [#] have not been re-numbered, they are moved to eoparagraph. greek letters are encoded in <gr > brackets, and the letters are based on adobe's symbol font. contents. chapter i. fire. libraries destroyed by fire.--alexandrian.--st. paul's destruction of mss., value of.--christian books destroyed by heathens.--heathen books destroyed by christians.--hebrew books burnt at cremona.--arabic books at grenada.--monastic libraries.--colton library.--birmingham riots.--dr. priestley's library.--lord mansfield's books.--cowper. --strasbourg library bombarded.--offor collection burnt.--dutch church library damaged.--library of corporation of london. chapter ii. water. heer hudde's library lost at sea.--pinelli's library captured by corsairs.--mss. destroyed by mohammed ii--books damaged by rain.--woffenbuttel.--vapour and mould.--brown stains.--dr. dibdin.--hot water pipes.--asbestos fire.--glass doors to bookcases. chapter iii. gas and heat. effects of gas on leather.--necessitates re-binding.--bookbinders.--electric light.--british museum.--treatment of books.--legend of friars and their books. chapter iv. dust and neglect. books should have gilt tops.--old libraries were neglected.--instance of a college library.--clothes brushed in it.--abuses in french libraries.--derome's account of them.--boccaccio's story of library at the convent of mount cassin. chapter v. ignorance and bigotry. destruction of books at the reformation.--mazarin library.--caxton used to light the fire.--library at french protestant church, st. martin's-le-grand.--books stolen.--story of books from thonock hall.--boke of st. albans.--recollet monks of antwerp.--shakespearian "find."--black-letter books used in w.c.--gesta romanorum.--lansdowne collection.--warburton.--tradesman and rare book.--parish register.--story of bigotry by m. muller.--clergymen destroy books.--patent office sell books for waste. chapter vi. the bookworm. doraston.--not so destructive as of yore.--worm won't eat parchment.--pierre petit's poem.--hooke's account and image.--its natural history neglected.--various sorts--attempts to breed bookworms.--greek worm.--havoc made by worms.--bodleian and dr. bandinel.--"dermestes."--worm won't eat modern paper.--america comparatively free.--worm-hole at philadelphia. chapter vii. other vermin. black-beetle in american libraries.--germanica.--bug bible.--lepisma. --codfish.--skeletons of rats in abbey library, westminster.--niptus hololeucos.--tomicus typographicus.--house flies injure books. chapter viii. bookbinders. a good binding gives pleasure.--deadly effects of the "plough" as used by binders.--not confined to bye-gone times.--instances of injury.--de rome, a good binder but a great cropper.--books "hacked."--bad lettering--treasures in book-covers.--books washed, sized, and mended.--"cases" often preferable to re-binding. chapter ix. collectors. bagford the biblioclast.--illustrations torn from mss.--title-pages torn from books.--rubens, his engraved titles.--colophons torn out of books.--lincoln cathedral--dr. dibdin's nosegay.--theurdanck.--fragments of mss.--some libraries almost useless.--pepysian.--teylerian.--sir thomas phillipps. chapter x. servants and children. library invaded for the purpose of dusting.--spring clean.---dust to be got rid of.--ways of doing so.--carefulness praised.--bad nature of certain books--metal clasps and rivets.--how to dust.--children often injure books.--examples.--story of boys in a country library. postscriptum. anecdote of book-sale in derbyshire. conclusion. the care that should be taken of books.--enjoyment derived from them. illustrations. servant using a "caxton" to light the fire --- _frontispiece_, pirates throwing library over-board ---------- page friars and their ass-load -------------------- brushing clothes in a college library -------- bookworms ------------------------------------ rats destroying books ------------------------ household fly-damage ------------------------- boys rampant in library ---------------------- the enemies of books. chapter i. fire. there are many of the forces of nature which tend to injure books; but among them all not one has been half so destructive as fire. it would be tedious to write out a bare list only of the numerous libraries and bibliographical treasures which, in one way or another, have been seized by the fire-king as his own. chance conflagrations, fanatic incendiarism, judicial bonfires, and even household stoves have, time after time, thinned the treasures as well as the rubbish of past ages, until, probably, not one thousandth part of the books that have been are still extant. this destruction cannot, however, be reckoned as all loss; for had not the "cleansing fires" removed mountains of rubbish from our midst, strong destructive measures would have become a necessity from sheer want of space in which to store so many volumes. before the invention of printing, books were comparatively scarce; and, knowing as we do, how very difficult it is, even after the steam-press has been working for half a century, to make a collection of half a million books, we are forced to receive with great incredulity the accounts in old writers of the wonderful extent of ancient libraries. the historian gibbon, very incredulous in many things, accepts without questioning the fables told upon this subject. no doubt the libraries of mss. collected generation after generation by the egyptian ptolemies became, in the course of time, the most extensive ever then known; and were famous throughout the world for the costliness of their ornamentation, and importance of their untold contents. two of these were at alexandria, the larger of which was in the quarter called bruchium. these volumes, like all manuscripts of those early ages, were written on sheets of parchment, having a wooden roller at each end so that the reader needed only to unroll a portion at a time. during caesar's alexandrian war, b.c. , the larger collection was consumed by fire and again burnt by the saracens in a.d. . an immense loss was inflicted upon mankind thereby; but when we are told of , , or even , of such volumes being destroyed we instinctively feel that such numbers must be a great exaggeration. equally incredulous must we be when we read of half a million volumes being burnt at carthage some centuries later, and other similar accounts. among the earliest records of the wholesale destruction of books is that narrated by st. luke, when, after the preaching of paul, many of the ephesians "which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men: and they counted the price of them, and found it , pieces of silver" (acts xix, ). doubtless these books of idolatrous divination and alchemy, of enchantments and witchcraft, were righteously destroyed by those to whom they had been and might again be spiritually injurious; and doubtless had they escaped the fire then, not one of them would have survived to the present time, no ms. of that age being now extant. nevertheless, i must confess to a certain amount of mental disquietude and uneasiness when i think of books worth , denarii--or, speaking roughly, say l , ,[ ] of our modern money being made into bonfires. what curious illustrations of early heathenism, of devil worship, of serpent worship, of sun worship, and other archaic forms of religion; of early astrological and chemical lore, derived from the egyptians, the persians, the greeks; what abundance of superstitious observances and what is now termed "folklore"; what riches, too, for the philological student, did those many books contain, and how famous would the library now be that could boast of possessing but a few of them. [ ] the received opinion is that the "pieces of silver" here mentioned were roman denarii, which were the silver pieces then commonly used in ephesus. if now we weigh a denarius against modern silver, it is exactly equal to ninepence, and fifty thousand times ninepence gives l , . it is always a difficult matter to arrive at a just estimate of the relative value of the same coin in different ages; but reckoning that money then had at least ten times the purchasing value of money now, we arrive at what was probably about the value of the magical books burnt, viz.: l , . the ruins of ephesus bear unimpeachable evidence that the city was very extensive and had magnificent buildings. it was one of the free cities, governing itself. its trade in shrines and idols was very extensive, being spread through all known lands. there the magical arts were remarkably prevalent, and notwithstanding the numerous converts made by the early christians, the <gr 'efesia grammata>, or little scrolls upon which magic sentences were written, formed an extensive trade up to the fourth century. these "writings" were used for divination, as a protection against the "evil eye," and generally as charms against all evil. they were carried about the person, so that probably thousands of them were thrown into the flames by st. paul's hearers when his glowing words convinced them of their superstition. imagine an open space near the grand temple of diana, with fine buildings around. slightly raised above the crowd, the apostle, preaching with great power and persuasion concerning superstition, holds in thrall the assembled multitude. on the outskirts of the crowd are numerous bonfires, upon which jew and gentile are throwing into the flames bundle upon bundle of scrolls, while an asiarch with his peace-officers looks on with the conventional stolidity of policemen in all ages and all nations. it must have been an impressive scene, and many a worse subject has been chosen for the walls of the royal academy. books in those early times, whether orthodox or heterodox, appear to have had a precarious existence. the heathens at each fresh outbreak of persecution burnt all the christian writings they could find, and the christians, when they got the upper hand, retaliated with interest upon the pagan literature. the mohammedan reason for destroying books--"if they contain what is in the koran they are superfluous, and if they contain anything opposed to it they are immoral," seems, indeed, _mutatis mutandis_, to have been the general rule for all such devastators. the invention of printing made the entire destruction of any author's works much more difficult, so quickly and so extensively did books spread through all lands. on the other hand, as books multiplied, so did destruction go hand in hand with production, and soon were printed books doomed to suffer in the same penal fires, that up to then had been fed on mss. only. at cremona, in , , books printed in hebrew were publicly burnt as heretical, simply on account of their language; and cardinal ximenes, at the capture of granada, treated , copies of the koran in the same way. at the time of the reformation in england a great destruction of books took place. the antiquarian bale, writing in , thus speaks of the shameful fate of the monastic libraries:-- "a greate nombre of them whyche purchased those superstycyouse mansyons (_monasteries_) reserved of those librarye bookes some to serve their jakes, some to scoure theyr candelstyckes, and some to rubbe theyr bootes. some they solde to the grossers and sope sellers, and some they sent over see to yes booke bynders, not in small nombre, but at tymes whole shyppes full, to yes, wonderynge of foren nacyons. yea yes. universytees of thys realme are not alle clere in thys detestable fact. but cursed is that bellye whyche seketh to be fedde with suche ungodlye gaynes, and so depelye shameth hys natural conterye. i knowe a merchant manne, whych shall at thys tyme be namelesse, that boughte yes contentes of two noble lybraryes for forty shyllynges pryce: a shame it is to be spoken. thys stuffe hathe heoccupyed in yes stede of greye paper, by yes, space of more than these ten yeares, and yet he bathe store ynoughe for as manye years to come. a prodygyous example is thys, and to be abhorred of all men whyche love theyr nacyon as they shoulde do. the monkes kepte them undre dust, yes, ydle-headed prestes regarded them not, theyr latter owners have most shamefully abused them, and yes covetouse merchantes have solde them away into foren nacyons for moneye." how the imagination recoils at the idea of caxton's translation of the metamorphoses of ovid, or perhaps his "lyf of therle of oxenforde," together with many another book from our first presses, not a fragment of which do we now possess, being used for baking "pyes." at the great fire of london in , the number of books burnt was enormous. not only in private houses and corporate and church libraries were priceless collections reduced to cinders, but an immense stock of books removed from paternoster row by the stationers for safety was burnt to ashes in the vaults of st. paul's cathedral. coming nearer to our own day, how thankful we ought to be for the preservation of the cotton library. great was the consternation in the literary world of when they heard of the fire at ashburnham house, westminster, where, at that time, the cotton mss. were deposited. by great exertions the fire was conquered, but not before many mss. had been quite destroyed and many others injured. much skill was shown in the partial restoration of these books, charred almost beyond recognition; they were carefully separated leaf by leaf, soaked in a chemical solution, and then pressed flat between sheets of transparent paper. a curious heap of scorched leaves, previous to any treatment, and looking like a monster wasps' nest, may be seen in a glass case in the ms. department of the british museum, showing the condition to which many other volumes had been reduced. just a hundred years ago the mob, in the "birmingham riots," burnt the valuable library of dr. priestley, and in the "gordon riots" were burnt the literary and other collections of lord mansfield, the celebrated judge, he who had the courage first to decide that the slave who reached the english shore was thenceforward a free man. the loss of the latter library drew from the poet cowper two short and weak poems. the poet first deplores the destruction of the valuable printed books, and then the irretrievable loss to history by the burning of his lordship's many personal manuscripts and contemporary documents. "their pages mangled, burnt and torn, the loss was his alone; but ages yet to come shall mourn the burning of his own." the second poem commences with the following doggerel:-- "when wit and genius meet their doom in all-devouring flame, they tell us of the fate of rome and bid us fear the same." the much finer and more extensive library of dr. priestley was left unnoticed and unlamented by the orthodox poet, who probably felt a complacent satisfaction at the destruction of heterodox books, the owner being an unitarian minister. the magnificent library of strasbourg was burnt by the shells of the german army in . then disappeared for ever, together with other unique documents, the original records of the famous law-suits between gutenberg, one of the first printers, and his partners, upon the right understanding of which depends the claim of gutenberg to the invention of the art. the flames raged between high brick walls, roaring louder than a blast furnace. seldom, indeed, have mars and pluto had so dainty a sacrifice offered at their shrines; for over all the din of battle, and the reverberation of monster artillery, the burning leaves of the first printed bible and many another priceless volume were wafted into the sky, the ashes floating for miles on the heated air, and carrying to the astonished countryman the first news of the devastation of his capital. when the offor collection was put to the hammer by messrs sotheby and wilkinson, the well-known auctioneers of wellington street, and when about three days of the sale had been gone through, a fire occurred in the adjoining house, and, gaining possession of the sale rooms, made a speedy end of the unique bunyan and other rarities then on show. i was allowed to see the ruins on the following day, and by means of a ladder and some scrambling managed to enter the sale room where parts of the floor still remained. it was a fearful sight those scorched rows of volumes still on the shelves; and curious was it to notice how the flames, burning off the backs of the books first, had then run up behind the shelves, and so attacked the fore-edge of the volumes standing upon them, leaving the majority with a perfectly untouched oval centre of white paper and plain print, while the whole surrounding parts were but a mass of black cinders. the salvage was sold in one lot for a small sum, and the purchaser, after a good deal of sorting and mending and binding placed about , volumes for sale at messrs. puttick and simpson's in the following year. so, too, when the curious old library which was in a gallery of the dutch church, austin friars, was nearly destroyed in the fire which devastated the church in , the books which escaped were sadly injured. not long before i had spent some hours there hunting for english fifteenth-century books, and shall never forget the state of dirt in which i came away. without anyone to care for them, the books had remained untouched for many a decade-damp dust, half an inch thick, having settled upon them! then came the fire, and while the roof was all ablaze streams of hot water, like a boiling deluge, washed down upon them. the wonder was they were not turned into a muddy pulp. after all was over, the whole of the library, no portion of which could legally be given away, was _lent for ever_ to the corporation of london. scorched and sodden, the salvage came into the hands of mr. overall, their indefatigable librarian. in a hired attic, he hung up the volumes that would bear it over strings like clothes, to dry, and there for weeks and weeks were the stained, distorted volumes, often without covers, often in single leaves, carefully tended and dry-nursed. washing, sizing, pressing, and binding effected wonders, and no one who to-day looks upon the attractive little alcove in the guildhall library labelled <oe "bibliotheca ecclesiae londonino-belgiae"> and sees the rows of handsomely-lettered backs, could imagine that not long ago this, the most curious portion of the city's literary collections, was in a state when a five-pound note would have seemed more than full value for the lot. chapter ii. water. next to fire we must rank water in its two forms, liquid and vapour, as the greatest destroyer of books. thousands of volumes have been actually drowned at sea, and no more heard of them than of the sailors to whose charge they were committed. d'israeli narrates that, about the year , heer hudde, an opulent burgomaster of middleburgh, travelled for years disguised as a mandarin, throughout the length and breadth of the celestial empire. everywhere he collected books, and his extensive literary treasures were at length safely shipped for transmission to europe, but, to the irreparable loss of his native country, they never reached their destination, the vessel having foundered in a storm. in died the famous maffei pinelli, whose library was celebrated throughout the world. it had been collected by the pinelli family for many generations and comprised an extraordinary number of greek, latin, and italian works, many of them first editions, beautifully illuminated, together with numerous mss. dating from the th to the th century. the whole library was sold by the executors to mr. edwards, bookseller, of pall mall, who placed the volumes in three vessels for transport from venice to london. pursued by corsairs, one of the vessels was captured, but the pirate, disgusted at not finding any treasure, threw all the books into the sea. the other two vessels escaped and delivered their freight safely, and in - the books which had been so near destruction were sold at the great room in conduit street, for more than l , . these pirates were more excusable than mohammed ii who, upon the capture of constantinople in the th century, after giving up the devoted city to be sacked by his licentious soldiers, ordered the books in all the churches as well as the great library of the emperor constantine, containing , manuscripts, to be thrown into the sea. in the shape of rain, water has frequently caused irreparable injury. positive wet is fortunately of rare occurrence in a library, but is very destructive when it does come, and, if long continued, the substance of the paper succumbs to the unhealthy influence and rots and rots until all fibre disappears, and the paper is reduced to a white decay which crumbles into powder when handled. few old libraries in england are now so thoroughly neglected as they were thirty years ago. the state of many of our collegiate and cathedral libraries was at that time simply appalling. i could mention many instances, one especially, where a window having been left broken for a long time, the ivy had pushed through and crept over a row of books, each of which was worth hundreds of pounds. in rainy weather the water was conducted, as by a pipe, along the tops of the books and soaked through the whole. in another and smaller collection, the rain came straight on to a book-case through a sky-light, saturating continually the top shelf containing caxtons and other early english books, one of which, although rotten, was sold soon after by permission of the charity commissioners for l . germany, too, the very birth-place of printing, allows similar destruction to go on unchecked, if the following letter, which appeared about a year ago ( ) in the _academy_ has any truth in it:-- "for some time past the condition of the library at wolfenbuttel has been most disgraceful. the building is in so unsafe a condition that portions of the walls and ceilings have fallen in, and the many treasures in books and mss. contained in it are exposed to damp and decay. an appeal has been issued that this valuable collection may not be allowed to perish for want of funds, and that it may also be now at length removed to brunswick, since wolfenbuttel is entirely deserted as an intellectual centre. no false sentimentality regarding the memory of its former custodians, leibnitz and lessing, should hinder this project. lessing himself would have been the first to urge that the library and its utility should be considered above all things." the collection of books at wolfenbuttel is simply magnificent, and i cannot but hope the above report was exaggerated. were these books to be injured for the want of a small sum spent on the roof, it would be a lasting disgrace to the nation. there are so many genuine book-lovers in fatherland that the commission of such a crime would seem incredible, did not bibliographical history teem with similar desecrations.[ ] [ ] this was written in , since which time a new building has been erected. water in the form of vapour is a great enemy of books, the damp attacking both outside and inside. outside it fosters the growth of a white mould or fungus which vegetates upon the edges of the leaves, upon the sides and in the joints of the binding. it is easily wiped off, but not without leaving a plain mark, where the mould-spots have been. under the microscope a mould-spot is seen to be a miniature forest of lovely trees, covered with a beautiful white foliage, upas trees whose roots are embedded in the leather and destroy its texture. inside the book, damp encourages the growth of those ugly brown spots which so often disfigure prints and "livres de luxe." especially it attacks books printed in the early part of this century, when paper-makers had just discovered that they could bleach their rags, and perfectly white paper, well pressed after printing, had become the fashion. this paper from the inefficient means used to neutralise the bleach, carried the seeds of decay in itself, and when exposed to any damp soon became discoloured with brown stains. dr. dibdin's extravagant bibliographical works are mostly so injured; and although the doctor's bibliography is very incorrect, and his spun-out inanities and wearisome affectations often annoy one, yet his books are so beautifully illustrated, and he is so full of personal anecdote and chit chat, that it grieves the heart to see "foxey" stains common in his most superb works. in a perfectly dry and warm library these spots would probably remain undeveloped, but many endowed as well as private libraries are not in daily use, and are often injured from a false idea that a hard frost and prolonged cold do no injury to a library so long as the weather is dry. the fact is that books should never be allowed to get really cold, for when a thaw comes and the weather sets in warm, the air, laden with damp, penetrates the inmost recesses, and working its way between the volumes and even between the leaves, deposits upon their cold surface its moisture. the best preventative of this is a warm atmosphere during the frost, sudden heating when the frost has gone being useless. our worst enemies are sometimes our real friends, and perhaps the best way of keeping libraries entirely free from damp is to circulate our enemy in the shape of hot water through pipes laid under the floor. the facilities now offered for heating such pipes from the outside are so great, the expense comparatively so small, and the direct gain in the expulsion of damp so decided, that where it can be accomplished without much trouble it is well worth the doing. at the same time no system of heating should be allowed to supersede the open grate, which supplies a ventilation to the room as useful to the health of the books as to the health of the occupier. a coal fire is objectionable on many grounds. it is dangerous, dirty and dusty. on the other hand an asbestos fire, where the lumps are judiciously laid, gives all the warmth and ventilation of a common fire without any of its annoyances; and to any one who loves to be independent of servants, and to know that, however deeply he may sleep over his "copy," his fire will not fail to keep awake, an asbestos stove is invaluable. it is a mistake also to imagine that keeping the best bound volumes in a glass doored book-case is a preservative. the damp air will certainly penetrate, and as the absence of ventilation will assist the formation of mould, the books will be worse off than if they had been placed in open shelves. if security be desirable, by all means abolish the glass and place ornamental brass wire-work in its stead. like the writers of old cookery books who stamped special receipts with the testimony of personal experience, i can say "probatum est." chapter iii. gas and heat. what a valuable servant is gas, and how dreadfully we should cry out were it to be banished from our homes; and yet no one who loves his books should allow a single jet in his library, unless, indeed he can afford a "sun light," which is the form in which it is used in some public libraries, where the whole of the fumes are carried at once into the open air. unfortunately, i can speak from experience of the dire effect of gas in a confined space. some years ago when placing the shelves round the small room, which, by a euphemism, is called my library, i took the precaution of making two self-acting ventilators which communicated directly with the outer air just under the ceiling. for economy of space as well as of temper (for lamps of all kinds are sore trials), i had a gasalier of three lights over the table. the effect was to cause great heat in the upper regions, and in the course of a year or two the leather valance which hung from the window, as well as the fringe which dropped half-an-inch from each shelf to keep out the dust, was just like tinder, and in some parts actually fell to the ground by its own weight; while the backs of the books upon the top shelves were perished, and crumbled away when touched, being reduced to the consistency of scotch snuff. this was, of course, due to the sulphur in the gas fumes. i remember having a book some years ago from the top shelf in the library of the london institution, where gas is used, and the whole of the back fell off in my hands, although the volume in other respects seemed quite uninjured. thousands more were in a similar plight. as the paper of the volumes is uninjured, it might be objected that, after all, gas is not so much the enemy of the book itself as of its covering; but then, re-binding always leaves a book smaller, and often deprives it of leaves at the beginning or end, which the binder's wisdom has thought useless. oh! the havoc i have seen committed by binders. you may assume your most impressive aspect--you may write down your instructions as if you were making your last will and testament--you may swear you will not pay if your books are ploughed--'tis all in vain--the creed of a binder is very short, and comprised in a single article, and that article is the one vile word "shavings." but not now will i follow this depressing subject; binders, as enemies of books, deserve, and shall have, a whole chapter to themselves. it is much easier to decry gas than to find a remedy. sun lights require especial arrangements, and are very expensive on account of the quantity of gas consumed. the library illumination of the future promises to be the electric light. if only steady and moderate in price, it would be a great boon to public libraries, and perhaps the day is not far distant when it will replace gas, even in private houses. that will, indeed, be a day of jubilee to the literary labourer. the injury done by gas is so generally acknowledged by the heads of our national libraries, that it is strictly excluded from their domains, although the danger from explosion and fire, even if the results of combustion were innocuous, would be sufficient cause for its banishment. the electric light has been in use for some months in the reading room of the british museum, and is a great boon to the readers. the light is not quite equally diffused, and you must choose particular positions if you want to work happily. there is a great objection, too, in the humming fizz which accompanies the action of the electricity. there is a still greater objection when small pieces of hot chalk fall on your bald head, an annoyance which has been lately ( ) entirely removed by placing a receptacle beneath each burner. you require also to become accustomed to the whiteness of the light before you can altogether forget it. but with all its faults it confers a great boon upon students, enabling them not only to work three hours longer in the winter-time, but restoring to them the use of foggy and dark days, in which formerly no book-work at all could be pursued.[ ] [ ] . the system in use is still "siemens," but, owing to long experience and improvements, is not now open to the above objections. heat alone, without any noxious fumes, is, if continuous, very injurious to books, and, without gas, bindings may be utterly destroyed by desiccation, the leather losing all its natural oils by long exposure to much heat. it is, therefore, a great pity to place books high up in a room where heat of any kind is as it must rise to the top, and if sufficient to be of comfort to the readers below, is certain to be hot enough above to injure the bindings. the surest way to preserve your books in health is to treat them as you would your own children, who are sure to sicken if confined in an atmosphere which is impure, too hot, too cold, too damp, or too dry. it is just the same with the progeny of literature. if any credence may be given to monkish legends, books have sometimes been preserved in this world, only to meet a desiccating fate in the world to come. the story is probably an invention of the enemy to throw discredit on the learning and ability of the preaching friars, an order which was at constant war with the illiterate secular clergy. it runs thus:--"in the year , two minorite friars who had all their lives collected books, died. in accordance with popular belief, they were at once conducted before the heavenly tribunal to hear their doom, taking with them two asses laden with books. at heaven's gate the porter demanded, 'whence came ye?' the minorites replied 'from a monastery of st. francis.' 'oh!' said the porter, 'then st. francis shall be your judge.' so that saint was summoned, and at sight of the friars and their burden demanded who they were, and why they had brought so many books with them. 'we are minorites,' they humbly replied, 'and we have brought these few books with us as a solatium in the new jerusalem.' 'and you, when on earth, practised the good they teach?' sternly demanded the saint, who read their characters at a glance. their faltering reply was sufficient, and the blessed saint at once passed judgment as follows:--'insomuch as, seduced by a foolish vanity, and against your vows of poverty, you have amassed this multitude of books and thereby and therefor have neglected the duties and broken the rules of your order, you are now sentenced to read your books for ever and ever in the fires of hell.' immediately, a roaring noise filled the air, and a flaming chasm opened in which friars, and asses and books were suddenly engulphed." chapter iv. dust and neglect. dust upon books to any extent points to neglect, and neglect means more or less slow decay. a well-gilt top to a book is a great preventive against damage by dust, while to leave books with rough tops and unprotected is sure to produce stains and dirty margins. in olden times, when few persons had private collections of books, the collegiate and corporate libraries were of great use to students. the librarians' duties were then no sinecure, and there was little opportunity for dust to find a resting-place. the nineteenth century and the steam press ushered in a new era. by degrees the libraries which were unendowed fell behind the age, and were consequently neglected. no new works found their way in, and the obsolete old books were left uncared for and unvisited. i have seen many old libraries, the doors of which remained unopened from week's end to week's end; where you inhaled the dust of paper-decay with every breath, and could not take up a book without sneezing; where old boxes, full of older literature, served as preserves for the bookworm, without even an autumn "battue" to thin the breed. occasionally these libraries were (i speak of thirty years ago) put even to vile uses, such as would have shocked all ideas of propriety could our ancestors have foreseen their fate. i recall vividly a bright summer morning many years ago, when, in search of caxtons, i entered the inner quadrangle of a certain wealthy college in one of our learned universities. the buildings around were charming in their grey tones and shady nooks. they had a noble history, too, and their scholarly sons were (and are) not unworthy successors of their ancestral renown. the sun shone warmly, and most of the casements were open. from one came curling a whiff of tobacco; from another the hum of conversation; from a third the tones of a piano. a couple of undergraduates sauntered on the shady side, arm in arm, with broken caps and torn gowns--proud insignia of their last term. the grey stone walls were covered with ivy, except where an old dial with its antiquated latin inscription kept count of the sun's ascent. the chapel on one side, only distinguishable from the "rooms" by the shape of its windows, seemed to keep watch over the morality of the foundation, just as the dining-hall opposite, from whence issued a white-aproned cook, did of its worldly prosperity. as you trod the level pavement, you passed comfortable--nay, dainty--apartments, where lace curtains at the windows, antimacassars on the chairs, the silver biscuit-box and the thin-stemmed wine-glass moderated academic toils. gilt-backed books on gilded shelf or table caught the eye, and as you turned your glance from the luxurious interiors to the well-shorn lawn in the quad., with its classic fountain also gilded by sunbeams, the mental vision saw plainly written over the whole "the union of luxury and learning." surely here, thought i, if anywhere, the old world literature will be valued and nursed with gracious care; so with a pleasing sense of the general congruity of all around me, i enquired for the rooms of the librarian. nobody seemed to be quite sure of his name, or upon whom the bibliographical mantle had descended. his post, it seemed, was honorary and a sinecure, being imposed, as a rule, upon the youngest "fellow." no one cared for the appointment, and as a matter of course the keys of office had but distant acquaintance with the lock. at last i was rewarded with success, and politely, but mutely, conducted by the librarian into his kingdom of dust and silence. the dark portraits of past benefactors looked after us from their dusty old frames in dim astonishment as we passed, evidently wondering whether we meant "work"; book-decay--that peculiar flavour which haunts certain libraries--was heavy in the air, the floor was dusty, making the sunbeams as we passed bright with atoms; the shelves were dusty, the "stands" in the middle were thick with dust, the old leather table in the bow window, and the chairs on either side, were very dusty. replying to a question, my conductor thought there was a manuscript catalogue of the library somewhere, but thought, also, that it was not easy to find any books by it, and he knew not at the minute where to put his hand upon it. the library, he said, was of little use now, as the fellows had their own books and very seldom required th and th century editions, and no new books had been added to the collection for a long time. we passed down a few steps into an inner library where piles of early folios were wasting away on the ground. beneath an old ebony table were two long carved oak chests. i lifted the lid of one, and at the top was a once-white surplice covered with dust, and beneath was a mass of tracts--commonwealth quartos, unbound--a prey to worms and decay. all was neglect. the outer door of this room, which was open, was nearly on a level with the quadrangle; some coats, and trousers, and boots were upon the ebony table, and a "gyp" was brushing away at them just within the door--in wet weather he performed these functions entirely within the library--as innocent of the incongruity of his position as my guide himself. oh! richard of bury, i sighed, for a sharp stone from your sling to pierce with indignant sarcasm the mental armour of these college dullards. happily, things are altered now, and the disgrace of such neglect no longer hangs on the college. let us hope, in these days of revived respect for antiquity, no other college library is in a similar plight. not englishmen alone are guilty, however, of such unloving treatment of their bibliographical treasures. the following is translated from an interesting work just published in paris,[ ] and shows how, even at this very time, and in the centre of the literary activity of france, books meet their fate. [ ] le luxe des livres par l. derome. vo, paris, . m. derome loquitur:-- "let us now enter the communal library of some large provincial town. the interior has a lamentable appearance; dust and disorder have made it their home. it has a librarian, but he has the consideration of a porter only, and goes but once a week to see the state of the books committed to his care; they are in a bad state, piled in heaps and perishing in corners for want of attention and binding. at this present time ( ) more than one public library in paris could be mentioned in which thousands of books are received annually, all of which will have disappeared in the course of years or so for want of binding; there are rare books, impossible to replace, falling to pieces because no care is given to them, that is to say, they are left unbound, a prey to dust and the worm, and cannot be touched without dismemberment." "all history shows that this neglect belongs not to any particular age or nation. i extract the following story from edmond werdet's histoire du livre."[ ] [ ] "histoire du livre en france," par e. werdet. vo, paris, . "the poet boccaccio, when travelling in apulia, was anxious to visit the celebrated convent of mount cassin, especially to see its library, of which he had heard much. he accosted, with great courtesy, one of the monks whose countenance attracted him, and begged him to have the kindness to show him the library. 'see for yourself,' said the monk, brusquely, pointing at the same time to an old stone staircase, broken with age. boccaccio hastily mounted in great joy at the prospect of a grand bibliographical treat. soon he reached the room, which was without key or even door as protection to its treasures. what was his astonishment to see that the grass growing in the window-sills actually darkened the room, and that all the books and seats were an inch thick in dust. in utter astonishment he lifted one book after another. all were manuscripts of extreme antiquity, but all were dreadfully dilapidated. many had lost whole sections which had been violently extracted, and in many all the blank margins of the vellum had been cut away. in fact, the mutilation was thorough. "grieved at seeing the work and the wisdom of so many illustrious men fallen into the hands of custodians so unworthy, boccaccio descended with tears in his eyes. in the cloisters he met another monk, and enquired of him how the mss. had become so mutilated. 'oh!' he replied, 'we are obliged, you know, to earn a few sous for our needs, so we cut away the blank margins of the manuscripts for writing upon, and make of them small books of devotion, which we sell to women and children." as a postscript to this story, mr. timmins, of birmingham, informs me that the treasures of the monte cassino library are better cared for now than in boccaccio's days, the worthy prior being proud of his valuable mss. and very willing to show them. it will interest many readers to know that there is now a complete printing office, lithographic as well as typographic, at full work in one large room of the monastery, where their wonderful ms. of dante has been already reprinted, and where other fac-simile works are now in progress. chapter v. ignorance and bigotry. ignorance, though not in the same category as fire and water, is a great destroyer of books. at the reformation so strong was the antagonism of the people generally to anything like the old idolatry of the romish church, that they destroyed by thousands books, secular as well as sacred, if they contained but illuminated letters. unable to read, they saw no difference between romance and a psalter, between king arthur and king david; and so the paper books with all their artistic ornaments went to the bakers to heat their ovens, and the parchment manuscripts, however beautifully illuminated, to the binders and boot makers. there is another kind of ignorance which has often worked destruction, as shown by the following anecdote, which is extracted from a letter written in by m. philarete chasles to mr. b. beedham, of kimbolton:-- "ten years ago, when turning out an old closet in the mazarin library, of which i am librarian, i discovered at the bottom, under a lot of old rags and rubbish, a large volume. it had no cover nor title-page, and had been used to light the fires of the librarians. this shows how great was the negligence towards our literary treasure before the revolution; for the pariah volume, which, years before, had been placed in the invalides, and which had certainly formed part of the original mazarin collections, turned out to be a fine and genuine caxton." i saw this identical volume in the mazarin library in april, . it is a noble copy of the first edition of the "golden legend," , but of course very imperfect. among the millions of events in this world which cross and re-cross one another, remarkable coincidences must often occur; and a case exactly similar to that at the mazarin library, happened about the same time in london, at the french protestant church, st. martin's-le-grand. many years ago i discovered there, in a dirty pigeon hole close to the grate in the vestry, a fearfully mutilated copy of caxton's edition of the canterbury tales, with woodcuts. like the book at paris, it had long been used, leaf by leaf, in utter ignorance of its value, to light the vestry fire. originally worth at least l , it was then worth half, and, of course, i energetically drew the attention of the minister in charge to it, as well as to another grand folio by rood and hunte, . some years elapsed, and then the ecclesiastical commissioners took the foundation in hand, but when at last trustees were appointed, and the valuable library was re-arranged and catalogued, this "caxton," together with the fine copy of "latterbury" from the first oxford press, had disappeared entirely. whatever ignorance may have been displayed in the mutilation, quite another word should be applied to the disappearance. the following anecdote is so _apropos_, that although it has lately appeared in no. of _the antiquary_, i cannot resist the temptation of re-printing it, as a warning to inheritors of old libraries. the account was copied by me years ago from a letter written in , by the rev. c. f. newmarsh, rector of pelham, to the rev. s. r. maitland, librarian to the archbishop of canterbury, and is as follows:-- "in june, , a pedlar called at a cottage in blyton and asked an old widow, named naylor, whether she had any rags to sell. she answered, no! but offered him some old paper, and took from a shelf the 'boke of st. albans' and others, weighing lbs., for which she received _d_. the pedlar carried them through gainsborough tied up in string, past a chemist's shop, who, being used to buy old paper to wrap his drugs in, called the man in, and, struck by the appearance of the 'boke,' gave him _s_. for the lot. not being able to read the colophon, he took it to an equally ignorant stationer, and offered it to him for a guinea, at which price he declined it, but proposed that it should be exposed in his window as a means of eliciting some information about it. it was accordingly placed there with this label, 'very old curious work.' a collector of books went in and offered half-a-crown for it, which excited the suspicion of the vendor. soon after mr. bird, vicar of gainsborough, went in and asked the price, wishing to possess a very early specimen of printing, but not knowing the value of the book. while he was examining it, stark, a very intelligent bookseller, came in, to whom mr. bird at once ceded the right of pre-emption. stark betrayed such visible anxiety that the vendor, smith, declined setting a price. soon after sir c. anderson, of lea (author of ancient models), came in and took away the book to collate, but brought it back in the morning having found it imperfect in the middle, and offered l for it. sir charles had no book of reference to guide him to its value. but in the meantime, stark had employed a friend to obtain for him the refusal of it, and had undertaken to give for it a little more than any sum sir charles might offer. on finding that at least l could be got for it, smith went to the chemist and gave him two guineas, and then sold it to stark's agent for seven guineas. stark took it to london, and sold it at once to the rt. hon. thos. grenville for seventy pounds or guineas. "i have now shortly to state how it came that a book without covers of such extreme age was preserved. about fifty years since, the library of thonock hall, in the parish of gainsborough, the seat of the hickman family, underwent great repairs, the books being sorted over by a most ignorant person, whose selection seems to have been determined by the coat. all books without covers were thrown into a great heap, and condemned to all the purposes which leland laments in the sack of the conventual libraries by the visitors. but they found favour in the eyes of a literate gardener, who begged leave to take what he liked home. he selected a large quantity of sermons preached before the house of commons, local pamphlets, tracts from to , opera books, etc. he made a list of them, which i found afterwards in the cottage. in the list, no. was 'cotarmouris,' or the boke of st. albans. the old fellow was something of a herald, and drew in his books what he held to be his coat. after his death, all that could be stuffed into a large chest were put away in a garret; but a few favourites, and the 'boke' among them remained on the kitchen shelves for years, till his son's widow grew so 'stalled' of dusting them that she determined to sell them. had she been in poverty, i should have urged the buyer, stark, the duty of giving her a small sum out of his great gains." such chances as this do not fall to a man's lot twice; but edmond werdet relates a story very similar indeed, and where also the "plums" fell into the lap of a london dealer. in , the recollet monks of antwerp, wishing to make a reform, examined their library, and determined to get rid of about , volumes--some manuscript and some printed, but all of which they considered as old rubbish of no value. at first they were thrown into the gardener's rooms; but, after some months, they decided in their wisdom to give the whole refuse to the gardener as a recognition of his long services. this man, wiser in his generation than these simple fathers, took the lot to m. vanderberg, an amateur and man of education. m. vanderberg took a cursory view, and then offered to buy them by weight at sixpence per pound. the bargain was at once concluded, and m. vanderberg had the books. shortly after, mr. stark, a well-known london bookseller, being in antwerp, called on m. vanderberg, and was shown the books. he at once offered , francs for them, which was accepted. imagine the surprise and chagrin of the poor monks when they heard of it! they knew they had no remedy, and so dumbfounded were they by their own ignorance, that they humbly requested m. vanderberg to relieve their minds by returning some portion of his large gains. he gave them , francs. the great shakespearian and other discoveries, which were found in a garret at lamport hall in by mr. edmonds, are too well-known and too recent to need description. in this case mere chance seems to have led to the preservation of works, the very existence of which set the ears of all lovers of shakespeare a-tingling. in the summer of , a gentleman with whom i was well acquainted took lodgings in preston street, brighton. the morning after his arrival, he found in the w.c. some leaves of an old black-letter book. he asked permission to retain them, and enquired if there were any more where they came from. two or three other fragments were found, and the landlady stated that her father, who was fond of antiquities, had at one time a chest full of old black-letter books; that, upon his death, they were preserved till she was tired of seeing them, and then, supposing them of no value, she had used them for waste; that for two years and a-half they had served for various household purposes, but she had just come to the end of them. the fragments preserved, and now in my possession, are a goodly portion of one of the most rare books from the press of wynkyn de worde, caxton's successor. the title is a curious woodcut with the words "gesta romanorum" engraved in an odd-shaped black letter. it has also numerous rude wood-cuts throughout. it was from this very work that shakespeare in all probability derived the story of the three caskets which in "the merchant of venice" forms so integral a portion of the plot. only think of that cloaca being supplied daily with such dainty bibliographical treasures! in the lansdowne collection at the british museum is a volume containing three manuscript dramas of queen elizabeth's time, and on a fly-leaf is a list of fifty-eight plays, with this note at the foot, in the handwriting of the well-known antiquary, warburton: "after i had been many years collecting these manuscript playes, through my own carelessness and the ignorance of my servant, they was unluckely burned or put under pye bottoms." some of these "playes" are preserved in print, but others are quite unknown and perished for ever when used as "pye-bottoms." mr. w. b. rye, late keeper of the printed books at our great national library, thus writes:-- "on the subject of ignorance you should some day, when at the british museum, look at lydgate's translation of boccaccio's 'fall of princes,' printed by pynson in . it is 'liber rarissimus.' this copy when perfect had been very fine and quite uncut. on one fine summer afternoon in it was brought to me by a tradesman living at lamberhurst. many of the leaves had been cut into squares, and the whole had been rescued from a tobacconist's shop, where the pieces were being used to wrap up tobacco and snuff. the owner wanted to buy a new silk gown for his wife, and was delighted with three guineas for this purpose. you will notice how cleverly the british museum binder has joined the leaves, making it, although still imperfect, a fine book." referring to the carelessness exhibited by some custodians of parish registers, mr. noble, who has had great experience in such matters, writes:-- "a few months ago i wanted a search made of the time of charles i in one of the most interesting registers in a large town (which shall be nameless) in england. i wrote to the custodian of it, and asked him kindly to do the search for me, and if he was unable to read the names to get some one who understood the writing of that date to decipher the entries for me. i did not have a reply for a fortnight, but one morning the postman brought me a very large unregistered book-packet, which i found to be the original parish registers! he, however, addressed a note with it stating that he thought it best to send me the document itself to look at, and begged me to be good enough to return the register to him as soon as done with. he evidently wished to serve me--his ignorance of responsibility without doubt proving his kindly disposition, and on that account alone i forbear to name him; but i can assure you i was heartily glad to have a letter from him in due time announcing that the precious documents were once more locked up in the parish chest. certainly, i think such as he to be 'enemies of books.' don't you?" bigotry has also many sins to answer for. the late m. muller, of amsterdam, a bookseller of european fame, wrote to me as follows a few weeks before his death:-- "of course, we also, in holland, have many enemies of books, and if i were happy enough to have your spirit and style i would try and write a companion volume to yours. now i think the best thing i can do is to give you somewhat of my experience. you say that the discovery of printing has made the destruction of anybody's books difficult. at this i am bound to say that the inquisition did succeed most successfully, by burning heretical books, in destroying numerous volumes invaluable for their wholesome contents. indeed, i beg to state to you the amazing fact that here in holland exists an ultramontane society called 'old paper,' which is under the sanction of the six catholic bishops of the netherlands, and is spread over the whole kingdom. the openly-avowed object of this society is to buy up and to destroy as waste paper all the protestant and liberal catholic newspapers, pamphlets and books, the price of which is offered to the pope as 'deniers de st. pierre.' of course, this society is very little known among protestants, and many have denied even its existence; but i have been fortunate enough to obtain a printed circular issued by one of the bishops containing statistics of the astounding mass of paper thus collected, producing in one district alone the sum of l , in three months. i need not tell you that this work is strongly promoted by the catholic clergy. you can have no idea of the difficulty we now have in procuring certain books published but , , or years ago of an ephemeral character. historical and theological books are very rare; novels and poetry of that period are absolutely not to be found; medical and law books are more common. i am bound to say that in no country have more books been printed and more destroyed than in holland. w. muller." the policy of buying up all objectionable literature seems to me, i confess, very short-sighted, and in most cases would lead to a greatly increased reprint; it certainly would in these latitudes. from the church of rome to the church of england is no great leap, and mr. smith, the brighton bookseller, gives evidence thus:-- "it may be worth your while to note that the clergy of the last two centuries ought to be included in your list (of biblioclasts). i have had painful experience of the fact in the following manner. numbers of volumes in their libraries have had a few leaves removed, and in many others whole sections torn out. i suppose it served their purpose thus to use the wisdom of greater men and that they thus economised their own time by tearing out portions to suit their purpose. the hardship to the trade is this: their books are purchased in good faith as perfect, and when resold the buyer is quick to claim damage if found defective, while the seller has no redress." among the careless destroyers of books still at work should be classed government officials. cart-loads of interesting documents, bound and unbound, have been sold at various times as waste-paper,[ ] when modern red-tape thought them but rubbish. some of them have been rescued and resold at high prices, but some have been lost for ever. [ ] nell gwyn's private housekeeping book was among them, containing most curious particulars of what was necessary in the time of charles i for a princely household. fortunately it was among the rescued, and is now in a private library. in a very interesting series of blue books was commenced by the authorities of the patent office, of course paid for out of the national purse. beginning with the year the particulars of every important patent were printed from the original specifications and fac-simile drawings made, where necessary, for the elucidation of the text. a very moderate price was charged for each, only indeed the prime cost of production. the general public, of course, cared little for such literature, but those interested in the origin and progress of any particular art, cared much, and many sets of patents were purchased by those engaged in research. but the great bulk of the stock was, to some extent, inconvenient, and so when a removal to other offices, in , became necessary, the question arose as to what could be done with them. these blue-books, which had cost the nation many thousands of pounds, were positively sold to the paper mills as wastepaper, and nearly tons weight were carted away at about l per ton. it is difficult to believe, although positively true, that so great an act of vandalism could have been perpetrated, even in a government office. it is true that no demand existed for some of them, but it is equally true that in numerous cases, especially in the early specifications of the steam engine and printing machine, the want of them has caused great disappointment. to add a climax to the story, many of the "pulped" specifications have had to be reprinted more than once since their destruction. chapter vi. the bookworm. there is a sort of busy worm that will the fairest books deform, by gnawing holes throughout them; alike, through every leaf they go, yet of its merits naught they know, nor care they aught about them. their tasteless tooth will tear and taint the poet, patriot, sage or saint, not sparing wit nor learning. now, if you'd know the reason why, the best of reasons i'll supply; 'tis bread to the poor vermin. of pepper, snuff, or 'bacca smoke, and russia-calf they make a joke. yet, why should sons of science these puny rankling reptiles dread? 'tis but to let their books be read, and bid the worms defiance." j. doraston. a most destructive enemy of books has been the bookworm. i say "has been," because, fortunately, his ravages in all civilised countries have been greatly restricted during the last fifty years. this is due partly to the increased reverence for antiquity which has been universally developed--more still to the feeling of cupidity, which has caused all owners to take care of volumes which year by year have become more valuable--and, to some considerable extent, to the falling off in the production of edible books. the monks, who were the chief makers as well as the custodians of books, through the long ages we call "dark," because so little is known of them, had no fear of the bookworm before their eyes, for, ravenous as he is and was, he loves not parchment, and at that time paper was not. whether at a still earlier period he attacked the papyrus, the paper of the egyptians, i know not--probably he did, as it was a purely vegetable substance; and if so, it is quite possible that the worm of to-day, in such evil repute with us, is the lineal descendant of ravenous ancestors who plagued the sacred priests of on in the time of joseph's pharaoh, by destroying their title deeds and their books of science. rare things and precious, as manuscripts were before the invention of typography, are well preserved, but when the printing press was invented and paper books were multiplied in the earth; when libraries increased and readers were many, then familiarity bred contempt; books were packed in out-of-the-way places and neglected, and the oft-quoted, though seldom seen, bookworm became an acknowledged tenant of the library, and the mortal enemy of the bibliophile. anathemas have been hurled against this pest in nearly every european language, old and new, and classical scholars of bye-gone centuries have thrown their spondees and dactyls at him. pierre petit, in , devoted a long latin poem to his dis-praise, and parnell's charming ode is well known. hear the poet lament:-- "pene tu mihi passerem catulli, pene tu mihi lesbiam abstulisti." and then-- "quid dicam innumeros bene eruditos quorum tu monumenta tu labores isti pessimo ventre devorasti?" while petit, who was evidently moved by strong personal feelings against the "invisum pecus," as he calls him, addresses his little enemy as "bestia audax" and "pestis chartarum." but, as a portrait commonly precedes a biography, the curious reader may wish to be told what this "bestia audax," who so greatly ruffles the tempers of our eclectics, is like. here, at starting, is a serious chameleon-like difficulty, for the bookworm offers to us, if we are guided by their words, as many varieties of size and shape as there are beholders. sylvester, in his "laws of verse," with more words than wit, described him as "a microscopic creature wriggling on the learned page, which, when discovered, stiffens out into the resemblance of a streak of dirt." the earliest notice is in "micrographia," by r. hooke, folio, london, . this work, which was printed at the expense of the royal society of london, is an account of innumerable things examined by the author under the microscope, and is most interesting for the frequent accuracy of the author's observations, and most amusing for his equally frequent blunders. in his account of the bookworm, his remarks, which are rather long and very minute, are absurdly blundering. he calls it "a small white silver-shining worm or moth, which i found much conversant among books and papers, and is supposed to be that which corrodes and eats holes thro' the leaves and covers. its head appears bigg and blunt, and its body tapers from it towards the tail, smaller and smaller, being shap'd almost like a carret.... it has two long horns before, which are streight, and tapering towards the top, curiously ring'd or knobb'd and brisled much like the marsh weed called horses tail.... the hinder part is terminated with three tails, in every particular resembling the two longer horns that grow out of the head. the legs are scal'd and hair'd. this animal probably feeds upon the paper and covers of books, and perforates in them several small round holes, finding perhaps a convenient nourishment in those husks of hemp and flax, which have passed through so many scourings, washings, dressings, and dryings as the parts of old paper necessarily have suffer'd. and, indeed, when i consider what a heap of sawdust or chips this little creature (which is one of the teeth of time) conveys into its intrals, i cannot chuse but remember and admire the excellent contrivance of nature in placing in animals such a fire, as is continually nourished and supply'd by the materials convey'd into the stomach and fomented by the bellows of the lungs." the picture or "image," which accompanies this description, is wonderful to behold. certainly r. hooke, fellow of the royal society, drew somewhat upon his imagination here, having apparently evolved both engraving and description from his inner consciousness.[ ] [ ] not so! several correspondents have drawn my attention to the fact that hooke is evidently describing the "lepisma," which, if not positively injurious, is often found in the warm places of old houses, especially if a little damp. he mistook this for the bookworm. entomologists even do not appear to have paid much attention to the natural history of the "worm." kirby, speaking of it, says, "the larvae of crambus pinguinalis spins a robe which it covers with its own excrement, and does no little injury." again, "i have often observed the caterpillar of a little moth that takes its station in damp old books, and there commits great ravages, and many a black-letter rarity, which in these days of bibliomania would have been valued at its weight in gold, has been snatched by these devastators," etc., etc. as already quoted, doraston's description is very vague. to him he is in one verse "a sort of busy worm," and in another "a puny rankling reptile." hannett, in his work on book-binding, gives "aglossa pinguinalis" as the real name, and mrs. gatty, in her parables, christens it "hypothenemus cruditus." the, rev. f. t. havergal, who many years ago had much trouble with bookworms in the cathedral library of hereford, says they are a kind of death-watch, with a "hard outer skin, and are dark brown," another sort "having white bodies with brown spots on their heads." mr. holme, in "notes and queries" for , states that the "anobium paniceum" has done considerable injury to the arabic manuscripts brought from cairo, by burckhardt, and now in the university library, cambridge. other writers say "acarus eruditus" or "anobium pertinax" are the correct scientific names. personally, i have come across but few specimens; nevertheless, from what i have been told by librarians, and judging from analogy, i imagine the following to be about the truth:-- there are several kinds of caterpillar and grub, which eat into books, those with legs are the larvae of moths; those without legs, or rather with rudimentary legs, are grubs and turn to beetles. it is not known whether any species of caterpillar or grub can live generation after generation upon books alone, but several sorts of wood-borers, and others which live upon vegetable refuse, will attack paper, especially if attracted in the first place by the real wooden boards in which it was the custom of the old book-binders to clothe their volumes. in this belief, some country librarians object to opening the library windows lest the enemy should fly in from the neighbouring woods, and rear a brood of worms. anyone, indeed, who has seen a hole in a filbert, or a piece of wood riddled by dry rot, will recognize a similarity of appearance in the channels made by these insect enemies. among the paper-eating species are:-- . the "anobium." of this beetle there are varieties, viz.: "a. pertinax," "a. eruditus," and "a. paniceum." in the larval state they are grubs, just like those found, in nuts; in this stage they are too much alike to be distinguished from one another. they feed on old dry wood, and often infest bookcases and shelves. they eat the wooden boards of old books, and so pass into the paper where they make long holes quite round, except when they work in a slanting direction, when the holes appear to be oblong. they will thus pierce through several volumes in succession, peignot, the well-known bibliographer, having found volumes so pierced in a straight line by one worm, a miracle of gluttony, the story of which, for myself, i receive "_cum grano salis_." after a certain time the larva changes into a pupa, and then emerges as a small brown beetle. . "oecophora."--this larva is similar in size to that of anobium, but can be distinguished at once by having legs. it is a caterpillar, with six legs upon its thorax and eight sucker-like protuberances on its body, like a silk-worm. it changes into a chrysalis, and then assumes its perfect shape as a small brown moth. the species that attacks books is the oecophora pseudospretella. it loves damp and warmth, and eats any fibrous material. this caterpillar is quite unlike any garden species, and, excepting the legs, is very similar in appearance and size to the anobium. it is about half-inch long, with a horny head and strong jaws. to printers' ink or writing ink he appears to have no great dislike, though i imagine that the former often disagrees with his health, unless he is very robust, as in books where the print is pierced a majority of the worm-holes i have seen are too short in extent to have provided food enough for the development of the grub. but, although the ink may be unwholesome, many grubs survive, and, eating day and night in silence and darkness, work out their destiny leaving, according to the strength of their constitutions, a longer or shorter tunnel in the volume. in december, , mr. birdsall, a well-known book-binder of northampton, kindly sent me by post a fat little worm, which had been found by one of his workmen in an old book while being bound. he bore his journey extremely well, being very lively when turned out. i placed him in a box in warmth and quiet, with some small fragments of paper from a boethius, printed by caxton, and a leaf of a seventeenth century book. he ate a small piece of the leaf, but either from too much fresh air, from unaccustomed liberty, or from change of food, he gradually weakened, and died in about three weeks. i was sorry to lose him, as i wished to verify his name in his perfect state. mr. waterhouse, of the entomological department of the british museum, very kindly examined him before death, and was of opinion he was oecophora pseudospretella. in july, , dr. garnett, of the british museum, gave me two worms which had been found in an old hebrew commentary just received from athens. they had doubtless had a good shaking on the journey, and one was moribund when i took charge, and joined his defunct kindred in a few days. the other seemed hearty and lived with me for nearly eighteen months. i treated him as well as i knew how; placed him in a small box with the choice of three sorts of old paper to eat, and very seldom disturbed him. he evidently resented his confinement, ate very little, moved very little, and changed in appearance very little, even when dead. this greek worm, filled with hebrew lore, differed in many respects from any other i have seen. he was longer, thinner, and more delicate looking than any of his english congeners. he was transparent, like thin ivory, and had a dark line through his body, which i took to be the intestinal canal. he resigned his life with extreme procrastination, and died "deeply lamented" by his keeper, who had long looked forward to his final development. the difficulty of breeding these worms is probably due to their formation. when in a state of nature they can by expansion and contraction of the body working upon the sides of their holes, push their horny jaws against the opposing mass of paper. but when freed from the restraint, which indeed to them is life, they cannot eat although surrounded with food, for they have no legs to keep them steady, and their natural, leverage is wanting. considering the numerous old books contained in the british museum, the library there is wonderfully free from the worm. mr. rye, lately the keeper of the printed books there, writes me "two or three were discovered in my time, but they were weakly creatures. one, i remember, was conveyed into the natural history department, and was taken into custody by mr. adam white who pronounced it to be anobium pertinax. i never heard of it after." the reader, who has not had an opportunity of examining old libraries, can have no idea of the dreadful havoc which these pests are capable of making. i have now before me a fine folio volume, printed on very good unbleached paper, as thick as stout cartridge, in the year , by peter schoeffer, of mentz. unfortunately, after a period of neglect in which it suffered severely from the "worm," it was about fifty years ago considered worth a new cover, and so again suffered severely, this time at the hands of the binder. thus the original state of the boards is unknown, but the damage done to the leaves can be accurately described. the "worms" have attacked each end. on the first leaf are distinct holes, varying in size from a common pin hole to that which a stout knitting-needle would make, say, < / > to < / > inch. these holes run mostly in lines more or less at right angles with the covers, a very few being channels along the paper affecting three or four sheets only. the varied energy of these little pests is thus represented:-- on folio are holes. on folio are holes. " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " these leaves being stout, are about the thickness of inch. the volume has leaves, and turning to the end, we find on the last leaf holes, made by a breed of worms not so ravenous. thus, from end | from end. on folio are holes. | on folio is hole. " " " | " " " it is curious to notice how the holes, rapidly at first, and then slowly and more slowly, disappear. you trace the same hole leaf after leaf, until suddenly the size becomes in one leaf reduced to half its normal diameter, and a close examination will show a small abrasion of the paper in the next leaf exactly where the hole would have come if continued. in the book quoted it is just as if there had been a race. in the first ten leaves the weak worms are left behind; in the second ten there are still forty-eight eaters; these are reduced to thirty-one in the third ten, and to only eighteen in the fourth ten. on folio only six worms hold on, and before folio two of them have given in. before reaching folio , it is a neck and neck race between two sturdy gourmands, each making a fine large hole, one of them being oval in shape. at folio they are still neck and neck, and at folio the same. at folio the oval worm gives in, the round one eating three more leaves and part way through the fourth. the leaves of the book are then untouched until we reach the sixty-ninth from the end, upon which is one worm hole. after this they go on multiplying to the end of the book. i have quoted this instance because i have it handy, but many worms eat much longer holes than any in this volume; some i have seen running quite through a couple of thick volumes, covers and all. in the "schoeffer" book the holes are probably the work of anobium pertinax, because the centre is spared and both ends attacked. originally, real wooden boards were the covers of the volume, and here, doubtless, the attack was commenced, which was carried through each board into the paper of the book. i remember well my first visit to the bodleian library, in the year , dr. bandinel being then the librarian. he was very kind, and afforded me every facility for examining the fine collection of "caxtons," which was the object of my journey. in looking over a parcel of black-letter fragments, which had been in a drawer for a long time, i came across a small grub, which, without a thought, i threw on the floor and trod under foot. soon after i found another, a fat, glossy fellow, so long ---, which i carefully preserved in a little paper box, intending to observe his habits and development. seeing dr. bandinel near, i asked him to look at my curiosity. hardly, however, had i turned the wriggling little victim out upon the leather-covered table, when down came the doctor's great thumb-nail upon him, and an inch-long smear proved the tomb of all my hopes, while the great bibliographer, wiping his thumb on his coat sleeve, passed on with the remark, "oh, yes! they have black heads sometimes." that was something to know--another fact for the entomologist; for my little gentleman had a hard, shiny, white head, and i never heard of a black-headed bookworm before or since. perhaps the great abundance of black-letter books in the bodleian may account for the variety. at any rate he was an anobium. i have been unmercifully "chaffed" for the absurd idea that a paper-eating worm could be kept a prisoner in a paper box. oh, these critics! your bookworm is a shy, lazy beast, and takes a day or two to recover his appetite after being "evicted." moreover, he knew his own dignity better than to eat the "loaded" glazed shoddy note paper in which he was incarcerated. in the case of caxton's "lyf of oure ladye," already referred to, not only are there numerous small holes, but some very large channels at the bottom of the pages. this is a most unusual occurrence, and is probably the work of the larva of "dermestes vulpinus," a garden beetle, which is very voracious, and eats any kind of dry ligneous rubbish. the scarcity of edible books of the present century has been mentioned. one result of the extensive adulteration of modern paper is that the worm will not touch it. his instinct forbids him to eat the china clay, the bleaches, the plaster of paris, the sulphate of barytes, the scores of adulterants now used to mix with the fibre, and, so far, the wise pages of the old literature are, in the race against time with the modern rubbish, heavily handicapped. thanks to the general interest taken in old books now-a-days, the worm has hard times of it, and but slight chance of that quiet neglect which is necessary to his, existence. so much greater is the reason why some patient entomologist should, while there is the chance, take upon himself to study the habits of the creature, as sir john lubbock has those of the ant. i have now before me some leaves of a book, which, being waste, were used by our economical first printer, caxton, to make boards, by pasting them together. whether the old paste was an attraction, or whatever the reason may have been, the worm, when he got in there, did not, as usual, eat straight through everything into the middle of the book, but worked his way longitudinally, eating great furrows along the leaves without passing out of the binding; and so furrowed are these few leaves by long channels that it is difficult to raise one of them without its falling to pieces. this is bad enough, but we may be very thankful that in these temperate climes we have no such enemies as are found in very hot countries, where a whole library, books, bookshelves, table, chairs, and all, may be destroyed in one night by a countless army of ants. our cousins in the united states, so fortunate in many things, seem very fortunate in this--their books are not attacked by the "worm"--at any rate, american writers say so. true it is that all their black-letter comes from europe, and, having cost many dollars, is well looked after; but there they have thousands of seventeenth and eighteenth century books, in roman type, printed in the states on genuine and wholesome paper, and the worm is not particular, at least in this country, about the type he eats through, if the paper is good. probably, therefore, the custodians of their old libraries could tell a different tale, which makes it all the more amusing to find in the excellent "encyclopaedia of printing,"[ ] edited and printed by ringwalt, at philadelphia, not only that the bookworm is a stranger there, for personally he is unknown to most of us, but that his slightest ravages are looked upon as both curious and rare. after quoting dibdin, with the addition of a few flights of imagination of his own, ringwalt states that this "paper-eating moth is supposed to have been introduced into england in hogsleather binding from holland." he then ends with what, to anyone who has seen the ravages of the worm in hundreds of books, must be charming in its native simplicity. "there is now," he states, evidently quoting it as a great curiosity, "there is now, in a private library in philadelphia, a book perforated by this insect." oh! lucky philadelphians! who can boast of possessing the oldest library in the states, but must ask leave of a private collector if they wish to see the one wormhole in the whole city! [ ] "american encyclopaedia of printing": by luther ringwalt. vo. philadelphia, . chapter vii. other vermin. besides the worm i do not think there is any insect enemy of books worth description. the domestic black-beetle, or cockroach, is far too modern an introduction to our country to have done much harm, though he will sometimes nibble the binding of books, especially if they rest upon the floor. not so fortunate, however, are our american cousins, for in the "library journal" for september, , mr. weston flint gives an account of a dreadful little pest which commits great havoc upon the cloth bindings of the new york libraries. it is a small black-beetle or cockroach, called by scientists "blatta germanica" and by others the "croton bug." unlike our household pest, whose home is the kitchen, and whose bashfulness loves secrecy and the dark hours, this misgrown flat species, of which it would take two to make a medium-sized english specimen, has gained in impudence what it has lost in size, fearing neither light nor noise, neither man nor beast. in the old english bible of , we read in psalm xci, , "thou shalt not nede to be afraied for eny bugges by night." this verse falls unheeded on the ear of the western librarian who fears his "bugs" both night and day, for they crawl over everything in broad sunlight, infesting and infecting each corner and cranny of the bookshelves they choose as their home. there is a remedy in the powder known as insecticide, which, however, is very disagreeable upon books and shelves. it is, nevertheless, very fatal to these pests, and affords some consolation in the fact that so soon as a "bug" shows any signs of illness, he is devoured at once by his voracious brethren with the same relish as if he were made of fresh paste. there is, too, a small silvery insect (lepisma) which i have often seen in the backs of neglected books, but his ravages are not of much importance. nor can we reckon the codfish as very dangerous to literature, unless, indeed, he be of the roman obedience, like that wonderful ichthiobibliophage (pardon me, professor owen) who, in the year , swallowed three puritanical treatises of john frith, the protestant martyr. no wonder, after such a meal, he was soon caught, and became famous in the annals of literature. the following is the title of a little book issued upon the occasion: "vox piscis, or the book-fish containing three treatises, which were found in the belly of a cod-fish in cambridge market on midsummer eve, ad ." lowndes says (see under "tracey,") "great was the consternation at cambridge upon the publication of this work." rats and mice, however, are occasionally very destructive, as the following anecdote will show: two centuries ago, the library of the dean and chapter of westminster was kept in the chapter house, and repairs having become necessary in that building, a scaffolding was erected inside, the books being left on their shelves. one of the holes made in the wall for a scaffold-pole was selected by a pair of rats for their family residence. here they formed a nest for their young ones by descending to the library shelves and biting away the leaves of various books. snug and comfortable was the little household, until, one day, the builder's men having finished, the poles were removed, and--alas! for the rats--the hole was closed up with bricks and cement. buried alive, the father and mother, with five or six of their offspring, met with a speedy death, and not until a few years ago, when a restoration of the chapter house was effected, was the rat grave opened again for a scaffold pole, and all their skeletons and their nest discovered. their bones and paper fragments of the nest may now be seen in a glass case in the chapter house, some of the fragments being attributed to books from the press of caxton. this is not the case, although there are pieces of very early black-letter books not now to be found in the abbey library, including little bits of the famous queen elizabeth's prayer book, with woodcuts, . a friend sends me the following incident: "a few years since, some rats made nests in the trees surrounding my house; from thence they jumped on to some flat roofing, and so made their way down a chimney into a room where i kept books. a number of these, with parchment backs, they entirely destroyed, as well as some half-dozen books whole bound in parchment." another friend informs me that in the natural history museum of the devon and exeter institution is a specimen of "another little pest, which has a great affection for bindings in calf and roan. its scientific name is niptus hololeucos." he adds, "are you aware that there was a terrible creature allied to these, rejoicing in the name of tomicus typographus, which committed sad ravages in germany in the seventeenth century, and in the old liturgies of that country is formally mentioned under its vulgar name, 'the turk'?" (see kirby and spence, seventh edition, , p. .) this is curious, and i did not know it, although i know well that typographus tomicus, or the "cutting printer," is a sad enemy of (good) books. upon this part of our subject, however, i am debarred entering. the following is from w. j. westbrook, mus. doe., cantab., and represents ravages with which i am personally unacquainted: "dear blades,--i send you an example of the 'enemy'-mosity of an ordinary housefly. it hid behind the paper, emitted some caustic fluid, and then departed this life. i have often caught them in such holes.' / / ." the damage is an oblong hole, surrounded by a white fluffy glaze (fungoid?), difficult to represent in a woodcut. the size here given is exact. chapter viii. bookbinders. in the first chapter i mentioned bookbinders among the enemies of books, and i tremble to think what a stinging retort might be made if some irate bibliopegist were to turn the scales on the printer, and place him in the same category. on the sins of printers, and the unnatural neglect which has often shortened the lives of their typographical progeny, it is not for me to dilate. there is an old proverb, "'tis an ill bird that befouls its own nest"; a curious chapter thereupon, with many modern examples, might nevertheless be written. this i will leave, and will now only place on record some of the cruelties perpetrated upon books by the ignorance or carelessness of binders. like men, books have a soul and body. with the soul, or literary portion, we have nothing to do at present; the body, which is the outer frame or covering, and without which the inner would be unusable, is the special work of the binder. he, so to speak, begets it; he determines its form and adornment, he doctors it in disease and decay, and, not unseldom, dissects it after death. here, too, as through all nature, we find the good and bad running side by side. what a treat it is to handle a well-bound volume; the leaves lie open fully and freely, as if tempting you to read on, and you handle them without fear of their parting from the back. to look at the "tooling," too, is a pleasure, for careful thought, combined with artistic skill, is everywhere apparent. you open the cover and find the same loving attention inside that has been given to the outside, all the workmanship being true and thorough. indeed, so conservative is a good binding, that many a worthless book has had an honoured old age, simply out of respect to its outward aspect; and many a real treasure has come to a degraded end and premature death through the unsightliness of its outward case and the irreparable damage done to it in binding. the weapon with which the binder deals the most deadly blows to books is the "plough," the effect of which is to cut away the margins, placing the print in a false position relatively to the back and head, and often denuding the work of portions of the very text. this reduction in size not seldom brings down a handsome folio to the size of quarto, and a quarto to an octavo. with the old hand plough a binder required more care and caution to produce an even edge throughout than with the new cutting machine. if a careless workman found that he had not ploughed the margin quite square with the text, he would put it in his press and take off "another shaving," and sometimes even a third. dante, in his "inferno," deals out to the lost souls various tortures suited with dramatic fitness to the past crimes of the victims, and had i to execute judgment on the criminal binders of certain precious volumes i have seen, where the untouched maiden sheets entrusted to their care have, by barbarous treatment, lost dignity, beauty and value, i would collect the paper shavings so ruthlessly shorn off, and roast the perpetrator of the outrage over their slow combustion. in olden times, before men had learned to value the relics of our printers, there was some excuse for the sins of a binder who erred from ignorance which was general; but in these times, when the historical and antiquarian value of old books is freely acknowledged, no quarter should be granted to a careless culprit. it may be supposed that, from the spread of information, all real danger from ignorance is past. not so, good reader; that is a consummation as yet "devoutly to be wished." let me relate to you a true bibliographical anecdote: in , a certain lord, who had succeeded to a fine collection of old books, promised to send some of the most valuable (among which were several caxtons) to the exhibition at south kensington. thinking their outward appearance too shabby, and not knowing the danger of his conduct, he decided to have them rebound in the neighbouring county town. the volumes were soon returned in a resplendent state, and, it is said, quite to the satisfaction of his lordship, whose pleasure, however, was sadly damped when a friend pointed out to him that, although the discoloured edges had all been ploughed off, and the time-stained blanks, with their fifteenth century autographs, had been replaced by nice clean fly-leaves, yet, looking at the result in its lowest aspect only--that of market value--the books had been damaged to at least the amount of l ; and, moreover, that caustic remarks would most certainly follow upon their public exhibition. those poor injured volumes were never sent. some years ago one of the most rare books printed by machlinia--a thin folio--was discovered bound in sheep by a country bookbinder, and cut down to suit the size of some quarto tracts. but do not let us suppose that country binders are the only culprits. it is not very long since the discovery of a unique caxton in one of our largest london libraries. it was in boards, as originally issued by the fifteenth-century binder, and a great fuss (very properly) was made over the treasure trove. of course, cries the reader, it was kept in its original covers, with all the interesting associations of its early state untouched? no such thing! instead of making a suitable case, in which it could be preserved just as it was, it was placed in the hands of a well-known london binder, with the order, "whole bind in velvet." he did his best, and the volume now glows luxuriously in its gilt edges and its inappropriate covering, and, alas! with half-an-inch of its uncut margin taken off all round. how do i know that? because the clever binder, seeing some ms. remarks on one of the margins, turned the leaf down to avoid cutting them off, and that stern witness will always testify, to the observant reader, the original size of the book. this same binder, on another occasion, placed a unique fifteenth century indulgence in warm water, to separate it from the cover upon which it was pasted, the result being that, when dry, it was so distorted as to be useless. that man soon after passed to another world, where, we may hope, his works have not followed him, and that his merits as a good citizen and an honest man counterbalanced his de-merits as a binder. other similar instances will occur to the memory of many a reader, and doubtless the same sin will be committed from time to time by certain binders, who seem to have an ingrained antipathy to rough edges and large margins, which of course are, in their view, made by nature as food for the shaving tub. de rome, a celebrated bookbinder of the eighteenth century, who was nicknamed by dibdin "the great cropper," was, although in private life an estimable man, much addicted to the vice of reducing the margins of all books sent to him to bind. so far did he go, that he even spared not a fine copy of froissart's chronicles, on vellum, in which was the autograph of the well-known book-lover, de thou, but cropped it most cruelly. owners, too, have occasionally diseased minds with regard to margins. a friend writes: "your amusing anecdotes have brought to my memory several biblioclasts whom i have known. one roughly cut the margins off his books with a knife, hacking away very much like a hedger and ditcher. large paper volumes were his especial delight, as they gave more paper. the slips thus obtained were used for index-making! another, with the bump of order unnaturally developed, had his folios and quartos all reduced, in binding, to one size, so that they might look even on his bookshelves." this latter was, doubtless, cousin to him who deliberately cut down all his books close to the text, because he had been several times annoyed by readers who made marginal notes. the indignities, too, suffered by some books in their lettering! fancy an early black-letter fifteenth-century quarto on knighthood, labelled "tracts"; or a translation of virgil, "sermons"! the "histories of troy," printed by caxton, still exists with "eracles" on the back, as its title, because that name occurs several times in the early chapters, and the binder was too proud to seek advice. the words "miscellaneous," or "old pieces," were sometimes used when binders were at a loss for lettering, and many other instances might be mentioned. the rapid spread of printing throughout europe in the latter part of the fifteenth century caused a great fall in the value of plain un-illuminated mss., and the immediate consequence of this was the destruction of numerous volumes written upon parchment, which were used by the binders to strengthen the backs of their newly-printed rivals. these slips of vellum or parchment are quite common in old books. sometimes whole sheets are used as fly-leaves, and often reveal the existence of most valuable works, unknown before--proving, at the same time, the small value formerly attached to them. many a bibliographer, while examining old books, has to his great puzzlement come across short slips of parchment, nearly always from some old manuscript, sticking out like "guards" from the midst of the leaves. these suggest, at first, imperfections or damage done to the volume; but if examined closely it will be found that they are always in the middle of a paper section, and the real reason of their existence is just the same as when two leaves of parchment occur here and there in a paper volume, viz.: strength--strength to resist the lug which the strong thread makes against the middle of each section. these slips represent old books destroyed, and like the slips already noticed, should always be carefully examined. when valuable books have been evil-entreated, when they have become soiled by dirty hands, or spoiled by water stains, or injured by grease spots, nothing is more astonishing to the uninitiated than the transformation they undergo in the hands of a skilful restorer. the covers are first carefully dissected, the eye of the operator keeping a careful outlook for any fragments of old mss. or early printed books, which may have been used by the original binder. no force should be applied to separate parts which adhere together; a little warm water and care is sure to overcome that difficulty. when all the sections are loose, the separate sheets are placed singly in a bath of cold water, and allowed to remain there until all the dirt has soaked out. if not sufficiently purified, a little hydrochloric or oxalic acid, or caustic potash may be put in the water, according as the stains are from grease or from ink. here is where an unpractised binder will probably injure a book for life. if the chemicals are too strong, or the sheets remain too long in the bath, or are not thoroughly cleansed from the bleach before they are re-sized, the certain seeds of decay are planted in the paper, and although for a time the leaves may look bright to the eye, and even crackle under the hand like the soundest paper, yet in the course of a few years the enemy will appear, the fibre will decay, and the existence of the books will terminate in a state of white tinder. everything which diminishes the interest of a book is inimical to its preservation, and in fact is its enemy. therefore, a few words upon the destruction of old bindings. i remember purchasing many years ago at a suburban book stall, a perfect copy of moxon's mechanic exercises, now a scarce work. the volumes were uncut, and had the original marble covers. they looked so attractive in their old fashioned dress, that i at once determined to preserve it. my binder soon made for them a neat wooden box in the shape of a book, with morocco back properly lettered, where i trust the originals will be preserved from dust and injury for many a long year. old covers, whether boards or paper, should always be retained if in any state approaching decency. a case, which can be embellished to any extent looks every whit as well upon the shelf! and gives even greater protection than binding. it has also this great advantage: it does not deprive your descendants of the opportunity of seeing for themselves exactly in what dress the book buyers of four centuries ago received their volumes. chapter ix. collectors. after all, two-legged depredators, who ought to have known better, have perhaps done as much real damage in libraries as any other enemy. i do not refer to thieves, who, if they injure the owners, do no harm to the books themselves by merely transferring them from one set of bookshelves to another. nor do i refer to certain readers who frequent our public libraries, and, to save themselves the trouble of copying, will cut out whole articles from magazines or encyclopaedias. such depredations are not frequent, and only occur with books easily replaced, and do not therefore call for more than a passing mention; but it is a serious matter when nature produces such a wicked old biblioclast as john bagford, one of the founders of the society of antiquaries, who, in the beginning of the last century, went about the country, from library to library, tearing away title pages from rare books of all sizes. these he sorted out into nationalities and towns, and so, with a lot of hand-bills, manuscript notes, and miscellaneous collections of all kinds, formed over a hundred folio volumes, now preserved in the british museum. that they are of service as materials in compiling a general history of printing cannot be denied, but the destruction of many rare books was the result, and more than counter-balanced any benefit bibliographers will ever receive from them. when here and there throughout those volumes you meet with titles of books now either unknown entirely, or of the greatest rarity; when you find the colophon from the end, or the "insigne typographi" from the first leaf of a rare "fifteener," pasted down with dozens of others, varying in value, you cannot bless the memory of the antiquarian shoemaker, john bagford. his portrait, a half-length, painted by howard, was engraved by vertue, and re-engraved for the bibliographical decameron. a bad example often finds imitators, and every season there crop up for public sale one or two such collections, formed by bibliomaniacs, who, although calling themselves bibliophiles, ought really to be ranked among the worst enemies of books. the following is copied from a trade catalogue, dated april, , and affords a fair idea of the extent to which these heartless destroyers will go:-- "missal illuminations. fifty different capital letters _on_ vellum; _all in rich gold and colours. many inches square: the floral decorations are of great beauty, ranging from the xiith to xvth century. mounted on stout card-board_. in nice preservation, l _s_. these beautiful letters have been cut from precious mss., and as specimens of early art are extremely valuable, many of them being worth _s_. each." mr. proeme is a man well known to the london dealers in old books. he is wealthy, and cares not what he spends to carry out his bibliographical craze, which is the collection of title pages. these he ruthlessly extracts, frequently leaving the decapitated carcase of the books, for which he cares not, behind him. unlike the destroyer bagford, he has no useful object in view, but simply follows a senseless kind of classification. for instance: one set of volumes contains nothing but copper-plate engraved titles, and woe betide the grand old dutch folios of the seventeenth century if they cross his path. another is a volume of coarse or quaint titles, which certainly answer the end of showing how idiotic and conceited some authors have been. here you find dr. sib's "bowels opened in divers sermons," , cheek by jowl with the discourse attributed falsely to huntington, the calvinist, "die and be damned," with many others too coarse to be quoted. the odd titles adopted for his poems by taylor, the water-poet, enliven several pages, and make one's mouth water for the books themselves. a third volume includes only such titles as have the printer's device. if you shut your eyes to the injury done by such collectors, you may, to a certain extent, enjoy the collection, for there is great beauty in some titles; but such a pursuit is neither useful nor meritorious. by and by the end comes, and then dispersion follows collection, and the volumes, which probably cost l each in their formation, will be knocked down to a dealer for l , finally gravitating into the south kensington library, or some public museum, as a bibliographical curiosity. the following has just been sold (july, ) by messrs. sotheby, wilkinson and hodge, in the dunn-gardinier collection, lot :-- "titlepages and frontispieces. _a collection of upwards of_ engraved titles and frontispieces, english and foreign (_some very fine and curious) taken from old books and neatly mounted on cartridge paper in vol, half morocco gilt. imp. folio_." the only collection of title-pages which has afforded me unalloyed pleasure is a handsome folio, published by the directors of the plantin museum, antwerp, in , just after the purchase of that wonderful typographical storehouse. it is called "titels en portretten gesneden naar p. p. rubens voor de plantijnsche drukkerij," and it contains thirty-five grand title pages, reprinted from the original seventeenth century plates, designed by rubens himself between the years and , for various publications which issued from the celebrated plantin printing office. in the same museum are preserved in rubens' own handwriting his charge for each design, duly receipted at foot. i have now before me a fine copy of "coclusiones siue decisiones antique dnor' de rota," printed by gutenberg's partner, schoeffer, in the year . it is perfect, except in a most vital part, the colophon, which has been cut out by some barbaric "collector," and which should read thus: "pridie nonis januarii mcccclxxvij, in civitate moguntina, impressorie petrus schoyffer de gernsheym," followed by his well-known mark, two shields. a similar mania arose at the beginning of this century for collections of illuminated initials, which were taken from mss., and arranged on the pages of a blank book in alphabetical order. some of our cathedral libraries suffered severely from depredations of this kind. at lincoln, in the early part of this century, the boys put on their robes in the library, a room close to the choir. here were numerous old mss., and eight or ten rare caxtons. the choir boys used often to amuse themselves, while waiting for the signal to "fall in," by cutting out with their pen-knives the illuminated initials and vignettes, which they would take into the choir with them and pass round from one to another. the dean and chapter of those days were not much better, for they let dr. dibdin have all their caxtons for a "consideration." he made a little catalogue of them, which he called "a lincolne nosegaye." eventually they were absorbed into the collection at althorp. the late mr. caspari was a "destroyer" of books. his rare collection of early woodcuts, exhibited in at the caxton celebration, had been frequently augmented by the purchase of illustrated books, the plates of which were taken out, and mounted on bristol boards, to enrich his collection. he once showed me the remains of a fine copy of "theurdanck," which he had served so, and i have now before me several of the leaves which he then gave me, and which, for beauty of engraving and cleverness of typography, surpasses any typographical work known to me. it was printed for the emperor maximilian, by hans schonsperger, of nuremberg, and, to make it unique, all the punches were cut on purpose, and as many as seven or eight varieties of each letter, which, together with the clever way in which the ornamental flourishes are carried above and below the line, has led even experienced printers to deny its being typography. it is, nevertheless, entirely from cast types. a copy in good condition costs about l . many years since i purchased, at messrs. sotheby's, a large lot of ms. leaves on vellum, some being whole sections of a book, but mostly single leaves. many were so mutilated by the excision of initials as to be worthless, but those with poor initials, or with none, were quite good, and when sorted out i found i had got large portions of nearly twenty different mss., mostly horae, showing twelve varieties of fifteenth century handwriting in latin, french, dutch, and german. i had each sort bound separately, and they now form an interesting collection. portrait collectors have destroyed many books by abstracting the frontispiece to add to their treasures, and when once a book is made imperfect, its march to destruction is rapid. this is why books like atkyns' "origin and growth of printing," o, , have become impossible to get. when issued, atkyns' pamphlet had a fine frontispiece, by logan, containing portraits of king charles ii, attended by archbishop sheldon, the duke of albermarle, and the earl of clarendon. as portraits of these celebrities (excepting, of course, the king) are extremely rare, collectors have bought up this o tract of atkyns', whenever it has been offered, and torn away the frontispiece to adorn their collection. this is why, if you take up any sale catalogue of old books, you are certain to find here and there, appended to the description, "wanting the title," "wanting two plates," or "wanting the last page." it is quite common to find in old mss., especially fifteenth century, both vellum and paper, the blank margins of leaves cut away. this will be from the side edge or from the foot, and the recurrence of this mutilation puzzled me for many years. it arose from the scarcity of paper in former times, so that when a message had to be sent which required more exactitude than could be entrusted to the stupid memory of a household messenger, the master or chaplain went to the library, and, not having paper to use, took down an old book, and cut from its broad margins one or more slips to serve his present need. i feel quite inclined to reckon among "enemies" those bibliomaniacs and over-careful possessors, who, being unable to carry their treasures into the next world, do all they can to hinder their usefulness in this. what a difficulty there is to obtain admission to the curious library of old samuel pepys, the well-known diarist. there it is at magdalene college, cambridge, in the identical book-cases provided for the books by pepys himself; but no one can gain admission except in company of two fellows of the college, and if a single book be lost, the whole library goes away to a neighbouring college. however willing and anxious to oblige, it is evident that no one can use the library at the expense of the time, if not temper, of two fellows. some similar restrictions are in force at the teylerian museum, haarlem, where a lifelong imprisonment is inflicted upon its many treasures. some centuries ago a valuable collection of books was left to the guildford endowed grammar school. the schoolmaster was to be held personally responsible for the safety of every volume, which, if lost, he was bound to replace. i am told that one master, to minimize his risk as much as possible, took the following barbarous course:--as soon as he was in possession, he raised the boards of the schoolroom floor, and, having carefully packed all the books between the joists, had the boards nailed down again. little recked he how many rats and mice made their nests there; he was bound to account some day for every single volume, and he saw no way so safe as rigid imprisonment. the late sir thomas phillipps, of middle hill, was a remarkable instance of a bibliotaph. he bought bibliographical treasures simply to bury them. his mansion was crammed with books; he purchased whole libraries, and never even saw what he had bought. among some of his purchases was the first book printed in the english language, "the recuyell of the histories of troye," translated and printed by william caxton, for the duchess of burgundy, sister to our edward iv. it is true, though almost incredible, that sir thomas could never find this volume, although it is doubtless still in the collection, and no wonder, when cases of books bought twenty years before his death were never opened, and the only knowledge of their contents which he possessed was the sale catalogue or the bookseller's invoice. chapter x. servants and children. reader! are you married? have you offspring, boys especially i mean, say between six and twelve years of age? have you also a literary workshop, supplied with choice tools, some for use, some for ornament, where you pass pleasant hours? and is--ah! there's the rub!--is there a special hand-maid, whose special duty it is to keep your den daily dusted and in order? plead you guilty to these indictments? then am i sure of a sympathetic co-sufferer. dust! it is all a delusion. it is not the dust that makes women anxious to invade the inmost recesses of your sanctum--it is an ingrained curiosity. and this feminine weakness, which dates from eve, is a common motive in the stories of our oldest literature and folk-lore. what made fatima so anxious to know the contents of the room forbidden her by bluebeard? it was positively nothing to her, and its contents caused not the slightest annoyance to anybody. that story has a bad moral, and it would, in many ways, have been more satisfactory had the heroine been left to take her place in the blood-stained chamber, side by side with her peccant predecessors. why need the women-folk (god forgive me!) bother themselves about the inside of a man's library, and whether it wants dusting or not? my boys' playroom, in which is a carpenter's bench, a lathe, and no end of litter, is never tidied--perhaps it can't be, or perhaps their youthful vigour won't stand it--but my workroom must needs be dusted daily, with the delusive promise that each book and paper shall be replaced exactly where it was. the damage done by such continued treatment is incalculable. at certain times these observances are kept more religiously than others; but especially should the book-lover, married or single, beware of the ides of march. so soon as february is dead and gone, a feeling of unrest seizes the housewife's mind. this increases day by day, and becomes dominant towards the middle of the month, about which period sundry hints are thrown out as to whether you are likely to be absent for a day or two. beware! the fever called "spring clean" is on, and unless you stand firm, you will rue it. go away, if the fates so will, but take the key of your own domain with you. do not misunderstand. not for a moment would i advocate dust and dirt; they are enemies, and should be routed; but let the necessary routing be done under your own eye. explain where caution must be used, and in what cases tenderness is a virtue; and if one eve in the family can be indoctrinated with book-reverence you are a happy man; her price is above that of rubies; she will prolong your life. books must now and then be taken clean out of their shelves, but they should be tended lovingly and with judgment. if the dusting can be done just outside the room so much the better. the books removed, the shelf should be lifted quite out of its bearings, cleansed and wiped, and then each volume should be taken separately, and gently rubbed on back and sides with a soft cloth. in returning the volumes to their places, notice should be taken of the binding, and especially when the books are in whole calf or morocco care should be taken not to let them rub together. the best bound books are soonest injured, and quickly deteriorate in bad company. certain volumes, indeed, have evil tempers, and will scratch the faces of all their neighbours who are too familiar with them. such are books with metal clasps and rivets on their edges; and such, again, are those abominable old rascals, chiefly born in the fifteenth century, who are proud of being dressed in real boards with brass corners, and pass their lives with fearful knobs and metal bosses, mostly five in number, firmly fixed on one of their sides. if the tendencies of such ruffians are not curbed, they will do as much mischief to their gentle neighbours as when a "collie" worries the sheep. these evil results may always be minimized by placing a piece of millboard between the culprit and his victim. i have seen lovely bindings sadly marked by such uncanny neighbours. when your books are being "dusted," don't impute too much common sense to your assistants; take their ignorance for granted, and tell them at once never to lift any book by one of its covers; that treatment is sure to strain the back, and ten to one the weight will be at the same time miscalculated, and the volume will fall. your female "help," too, dearly loves a good tall pile to work at and, as a rule, her notions of the centre of gravity are not accurate, leading often to a general downfall, and the damage of many a corner. again, if not supervised and instructed, she is very apt to rub the dust into, instead of off, the edges. each volume should be held tightly, so as to prevent the leaves from gaping, and then wiped from the back to the fore-edge. a soft brush will be found useful if there is much dust. the whole exterior should also be rubbed with a soft cloth, and then the covers should be opened and the hinges of the binding examined; for mildew will assert itself both inside and outside certain books, and that most pertinaciously. it has unaccountable likes and dislikes. some bindings seem positively to invite damp, and mildew will attack these when no other books on the same shelf show any signs of it. when discovered, carefully wipe it away, and then let the book remain a few days standing open, in the driest and airiest spot you can select. great care should be taken not to let grit, such as blows in at the open window from many a dusty road, be upon your duster, or you will probably find fine scratches, like an outline map of europe, all over your smooth calf, by which your heart and eye, as well as your book, will be wounded. "helps" are very apt to fill the shelves too tightly, so that to extract a book you have to use force, often to the injury of the top-bands. beware of this mistake. it frequently occurs through not noticing that one small book is purposely placed at each end of the shelf, beneath the movable shelf-supports, thus not only saving space, but preventing the injury which a book shelf-high would be sure to receive from uneven pressure. after all, the best guide in these, as in many other matters, is "common sense," a quality which in olden times must have been much more "common" than in these days, else the phrase would never have become rooted in our common tongue. children, with all their innocence, are often guilty of book-murder. i must confess to having once taken down "humphrey's history of writing," which contains many brightly-coloured plates, to amuse a sick daughter. the object was certainly gained, but the consequences of so bad a precedent were disastrous. that copy (which, i am glad to say, was easily re-placed), notwithstanding great care on my part, became soiled and torn, and at last was given up to nursery martyrdom. can i regret it? surely not, for, although bibliographically sinful, who can weigh the amount of real pleasure received, and actual pain ignored, by the patient in the contemplation of those beautifully-blended colours? a neighbour of mine some few years ago suffered severely from a propensity, apparently irresistible, in one of his daughters to tear his library books. she was six years old, and would go quietly to a shelf and take down a book or two, and having torn a dozen leaves or so down the middle, would replace the volumes, fragments and all, in their places, the damage being undiscovered until the books were wanted for use. reprimand, expostulation and even punishment were of no avail; but a single "whipping" effected a cure. boys, however, are by far more destructive than girls, and have, naturally, no reverence for age, whether in man or books. who does not fear a schoolboy with his first pocket-knife? as wordsworth did not say:-- "you may trace him oft by scars which his activity has left upon our shelves and volumes. * * * he who with pocket-knife will cut the edge of luckless panel or of prominent book, detaching with a stroke a label here, a back-band there." _excursion iii, _. pleased, too, are they, if, with mouths full of candy, and sticky fingers, they can pull in and out the books on your bottom shelves, little knowing the damage and pain they will cause. one would fain cry out, calling on the shade of horace to pardon the false quantity-- "magna movet stomacho fastidia, si puer unctis tractavit volumen manibus." _sat. iv_. what boys can do may be gathered from the following true story, sent me by a correspondent who was the immediate sufferer:-- one summer day he met in town an acquaintance who for many years had been abroad; and finding his appetite for old books as keen as ever, invited him home to have a mental feed upon "fifteeners" and other bibliographical dainties, preliminary to the coarser pleasures enjoyed at the dinner-table. the "home" was an old mansion in the outskirts of london, whose very architecture was suggestive of black-letter and sheep-skin. the weather, alas! was rainy, and, as they approached the house, loud peals of laughter reached their ears. the children were keeping a birthday with a few young friends. the damp forbad all outdoor play, and, having been left too much to their own devices, they had invaded the library. it was just after the battle of balaclava, and the heroism of the combatants on that hard-fought field was in everybody's mouth. so the mischievous young imps divided themselves into two opposing camps--britons and russians. the russian division was just inside the door, behind ramparts formed of old folios and quartos taken from the bottom shelves and piled to the height of about four feet. it was a wall of old fathers, fifteenth century chronicles, county histories, chaucer, lydgate, and such like. some few yards off were the britishers, provided with heaps of small books as missiles, with which they kept up a skirmishing cannonade against the foe. imagine the tableau! two elderly gentlemen enter hurriedly, paterfamilias receiving, quite unintentionally, the first edition of "paradise lost" in the pit of his stomach, his friend narrowly escaping a closer personal acquaintance with a quarto hamlet than he had ever had before. finale: great outburst of wrath, and rapid retreat of the combatants, many wounded (volumes) being left on the field. postscriptum. although, strictly speaking, the following anecdote does not illustrate any form of real injury to books, it is so racy, and in these days of extravagant biddings so tantalizing, that i must step just outside the strict line of pertinence in order to place it on record, it was sent to me, as a personal experience, by my friend, mr. george clulow, a well-known bibliophile, and "xylographer" to "ye sette of ye odde volumes." the date is . he writes:-- "_apropos_ of the gainsborough 'find,' of which you tell in 'the enemies of books,' i should like to narrate an experience of my own, of some twenty years ago: "late one evening, at my father's house, i saw a catalogue of a sale of furniture, farm implements and books, which was announced to take place on the following morning at a country rectory in derbyshire, some four miles from the nearest railway station. "it was summer time--the country at its best--and with the attraction of an old book, i decided on a day's holiday, and eight o'clock the next morning found me in the train for c----, and after a variation in my programme, caused by my having walked three miles west before i discovered that my destination was three miles east of the railway station, i arrived at the rectory at noon, and found assembled some thirty or forty of the neighbouring farmers, their wives, men-servants and maid-servants, all seemingly bent on a day's idling, rather than business. the sale was announced for noon, but it was an hour later before the auctioneer put in an appearance, and the first operation in which he took part, and in which he invited my assistance, was to make a hearty meal of bread and cheese and beer in the rectory kitchen. this over, the business of the day began by a sundry collection of pots, pans, and kettles being brought to the competition of the public, followed by some lots of bedding, etc. the catalogue gave books as the first part of the sale, and, as three o'clock was reached, my patience was gone, and i protested to the auctioneer against his not selling in accordance with his catalogue. to this he replied that there was not time enough, and that he would sell the books to-morrow! this was too much for me, and i suggested that he had broken faith with the buyers, and had brought me to c---- on a false pretence. this, however, did not seem to disturb his good humour, or to make him unhappy, and his answer was to call 'bill,' who was acting as porter, and to tell him to give the gentleman the key of the 'book room,' and to bring down any of the books he might pick out, and he 'would sell 'em.' i followed 'bill,' and soon found myself in a charming nook of a library, full of books, mostly old divinity, but with a large number of the best miscellaneous literature of the sixteenth century, english and foreign. a very short look over the shelves produced some thirty black letter books, three or four illuminated missals, and some book rarities of a more recent date. 'bill' took them downstairs, and i wondered what would happen! i was not long in doubt, for book by book, and in lots of two and three, my selection was knocked down in rapid succession, at prices varying from _s_. _d_. to _s_. _d_., this latter sum seeming to be the utmost limit to the speculative turn of my competitors. the _bonne bouche_ of the lot was, however, kept back by the auctioneer, because, as he said, it was 'a pretty book,' and i began to respect his critical judgment, for 'a pretty book' it was, being a large paper copy of dibdin's bibliographical decameron, three volumes, in the original binding. suffice it to say that, including this charming book, my purchases did not amount to l , and i had pretty well a cart-load of books for my money--more than i wanted much! having brought them home, i 'weeded them out,' and the 'weeding' realised four times what i gave for the whole, leaving me with some real book treasures. "some weeks afterwards i heard that the remainder of the books were literally treated as waste lumber, and carted off to the neighbouring town, and were to be had, any one of them, for sixpence, from a cobbler who had allowed his shop to be used as a store house for them. the news of their being there reached the ears of an old bookseller in one of the large towns, and he, i think, cleared out the lot. so curious an instance of the most total ignorance on the part of the sellers, and i may add on the part of the possible buyers also, i think is worth noting." how would the reader in this year of grace, , like such an experience as that? conclusion. it is a great pity that there should be so many distinct enemies at work for the destruction of literature, and that they should so often be allowed to work out their sad end. looked at rightly, the possession of any old book is a sacred trust, which a conscientious owner or guardian would as soon think of ignoring as a parent would of neglecting his child. an old book, whatever its subject or internal merits, is truly a portion of the national history; we may imitate it and print it in fac-simile, but we can never exactly reproduce it; and as an historical document it should be carefully preserved. i do not envy any man that absence of sentiment which makes some people careless of the memorials of their ancestors, and whose blood can be warmed up only by talking of horses or the price of hops. to them solitude means _ennui_, and anybody's company is preferable to their own. what an immense amount of calm enjoyment and mental renovation do such men miss. even a millionaire will ease his toils, lengthen his life, and add a hundred per cent. to his daily pleasures if he becomes a bibliophile; while to the man of business with a taste for books, who through the day has struggled in the battle of life with all its irritating rebuffs and anxieties, what a blessed season of pleasurable repose opens upon him as he enters his sanctum, where every article wafts to him a welcome, and every book is a personal friend! index. _academy, the_, . acanis eruditus, , . acts of the apostles, quoted, . aglossa pinguinalis, . albermarle (duke of), portrait by logan, . althorp library, . anderson (sir c.), . anobium paniceum, , . anobium pertinax, , , , . antiquary, the, . antwerp, monks at, , . asbestos fire, . ashburnham house, westminster, . asiarch, an, . athens, bookworm from, . atkyns' origin and growth of printing, . auctioneer, story of, . austin friars, . bagford (john), the biblioclast, r: . balaclava, battle of, . bale, the antiquary, . bandinel (dr.), , . beedham, b., . bible, the first printed, burnt at strasbourg, . -- the "bug" edition, . bibliophile, pleasures of a, . bibliotaph, a, . bibliotheca ecclesiae londino-belgicae, . binder's creed, . -- plough, . binding, care to be taken of, . -- quality of good, . bird (rev. -), . birdsall (mr.), bookbinder, . birmingham riots, . black-beetles, enemies of books, . black-letter books in united states, . blatta germanica, . boccaccio, - . bodleian, hookworms at, . bookbinders as enemies of books, . books, absurd lettering, . -- burnt at carthage; at ephesus, . -- burnt in fire of london, . -- burnt by saracens, . -- captured by corsairs, . -- cleaning of, . -- deprived of title pages, , . books destroyed at the reformation, si. -- dried in an attic, . -- examination of old covers, . -- how to dust them, . -- injured by hacking, i x i. -- lost at sea, , . -- margin reduced to size, . -- mildew in, . -- from monasteries destroyed, . -- restoration when injured, . -- restored after a fire, . -- scarce before printing, . -- sold to a cobbler, , . -- too tight on shelves, . -- their claims to be preserved, . -- used to bake "pyes," . -- which scratch one another, . book-sale in derbyshire, . bookworm, the, - . -- attempt to breed, - . -- from greece, . -- in paper box, . -- in united states, . bookworms' progress through books, . -- race by, . bosses on books, . boys injuring books, . -- in library, story of, . brighton, black letter fragments, . british museum, boccaccio's fall of princes, . british museum free from the "worm," . -- burnt book exhibited at, . brown spots in books, . bruchium, . burckhardt's arabic mss., . "bug" bible, . burgundy (duchess of), . cambridge market, . caskets (the three), shakspeare, . caspari (mr.), a collector, . cassin (convent of mount), . caxton, william, . --his use of waste leaves, . --canterbury tales, used to light a fire, . -- golden legend, ditto, . --lyf of oure ladye, . caxtons saturated by rain, . --spoilt in binding, . --discovered in british museum, . charles ii, portrait by logan, . chasles (philarete), . child tearing books, . children as enemies of books, . choir boys injuring mss., . christians burnt heathen mss., . early, . clarendon (earl of), portrait by logan, . clasps on books, injury from, . clergymen as biblioclasts, . clulow (mr. george), . coal fires objectionable in libraries, . codfish, book eaten by a, . cold injures books, . collectors as enemies of books, . college quadrangle, . colophon in schoeffer's book, . colophons (collections of), i is. commonwealth quartos, . communal libraries in france, . cotton library; partially burnt, . cowper, the poet, on burnt libraries, . crambus pinguinalis, . cremona, books destroyed at, . croton bug, . damp, an enemy of books, . dante, . -- the inferno, . derbyshire, book sale in, . dermestes vulpinus, . de rome, the binder, , , . de thou, . devil worship, . devon and exeter museum, . diana, temple of, . dibdin (dr.), . --sale of his decameron, . --his books, . d'israeli (b.), . doraston (j.), poem on bookworne, , . dust, an enemy of books, . -- and neglect in a library, - , . dusting books-how to do it, . dutch church burnt, . -- library at guildhall, . ecclesiastical commissioners, . edmonds (mr.), bookseller, . edward iv, . edwards (mr.), bookseller, . electric light in british museum, . ephesus, . "eracles," . "evil eye," the, . "excursion, the," . fire, an enemy of books, - . -- of london, . flint (weston), account of black-beetles in new york libraries, . folklore, ancient, . "foxey" books, . francis (st.) and the friars, . french protestant church, . frith (john), . froissart's chronicles, . frost in a library, . garnett (dr.), . gas injurious, - , gatty's (mrs.) parables, . german army at strasburg, u. gesta romanorum, . gibbon, the historian, . glass cases preservative of books, . golden legend, by caxton, . gordon riots, . government officials as biblioclasts, . grenville (rt. hon. thos.), . guildford, library at school, . guildhall, london, library at, . gutenberg, . -- documents concerning, burnt, , gwyn, nell, housekeeping book of, . "gyp" brushing clothes in a library, . hannett, on bookbinding, . havergal (rev. f. t.), . heathens burnt christian mss., . heating libraries, . hebrew books burnt, . hereford cathedral library, . hickman family, . histories of troy, . holme (mr.), . hooke (r.), his micrographia, - . horace's satires, . hot water pipes for libraries, . house-fly, an enemy of books, . hudde, heer, a story of, . hwqhrey's history of writing, . hypothenemus eruditus, . ignorance and bigotry, p- . illuminated letters fatal to books, . -- initials, collections of, . indulgence of th century spoilt by a binder, . inquisition in holland, . kirby and spence on entomologists, , . knobs of metal on bindings, . koran, the, . lamberhurst, . lamport hall, . lansdowne collection of mss., . latterbury, copy of, at st. martin's, . leather destroyed by gas, . lepisma, . -- mistaken for bookworm, . libraries burnt: by caesar, . --- at dutch church, . --- at strasbourg, . neglected in england, , , . at alexandria, . of the ptolemies) . library journal, the, . lincoln cathedral mss., . lincolne nosegaye, . london institution, . lubbock (sir j.), . luke's, st., account of destruction of books, . luxe des livres, . luxury and learning, . machlinia, book printed by, . magdalene college, cambridge, . maitland (rev. s. r.), . mansfield (lord), ij. ms. plays burnt, . manuscripts, fragments of, . margins of books cut away, , . maximilian (the emperor), . mazarin library, caxton in, . metamorphoses of ovid, by caxton, . micrographia, by r. hooke, . middleburgh, . mildew in books, . minorite friars, . missal illuminations, sale of, . mohammed's reason for destroying books, . mohammed ii throws books into the sea, . monks at monte cassino, . mould in books, . mount cassin, library at, . moxon's mechanic exercises, . muller (m.), of amsterdam, . newmarsh (rev. c. f.), . niptus hololeucos, . noble (mr.), on parish registers, . notes and queries, . oak chest, . oecophora pseudospretella, . offer collection of bunyans, . on, priests of, . overall (mr.), librarian at guildhall, . ovid, metamorphoses by caxton, . oxenforde, lyf of therle, . paper improperly bleached, . papyrus, . paradise lost, . parchment, slips of, in old books, . parish registers, carelessness, . parnell's ode, . patent office, destruction of literature at, . paternoster row, io. paul, st., . pedlar buying old books, , . peignot and hookworms, . pepys (samuel), his library, . petit (pierre), poem on bookworm, . philadelphia, wormhole at, . phillipps (sir thos.), . pieces of silver or denarii, . pinelli (maffei), library of, . plantin museum, . policemen in ephesus, . portrait collectors, . priestley (dr.), library burnt, , . printers, the first, . printers' marks, collection of, . -- ink and bookworms, . probrue (mr.), . ptolemies, the egyptian, . puttick and simpson, . pynson's fall of princes, . queen elizabeth's prayer-book, . quaint titles, collections of, . quadrangle of an old college described) . rain an enemy to books, . rats eat books, . recollet monks of antwerp, . -recuyell of the historyes of troye, . reformation, destruction of books at, . restoration of burnt books, . richard of bury, . ringwalt's encyclopaedia, . rivets on books, . rood and hunte, . rot caused by rain, . royal society, london, . rubens' engraved titles in plantin museum, . -- autograph receipts, . ruins of fire at sotheby and wilkinson's, . rye (w. b.), , . st. albans, boke of, . st. martin's-le-grand, french church, . st. paul's cathedral, books burnt in vaults of, . sale catalogues, extracts from, . schoeffer (p.), . schonsperger (hans), . schoolmaster and endowed library, . scorched book at british museum, . scrolls of magic, . serpent worship, . servants and children as enemies of books, - . shakesperian discoveries, . "shavings" of binders, . sheldon (archbishop), portrait by logan, . sib's bowels opened, . smith (mr.), brighton bookseller, . sotheby and wilkinson, . -- fire at their rooms, . spring clean, horrors of, . stark (mr.), bookseller, - . stealing a caxton, . steam press, . strasbourg, siege of, . sun-light of gas, , . sun worship, . sylvester's laws of verse, . taylor, the water-poet, . teylerian museum, haarlem, . theurdanck, prints in, . thonock hall, library of, . timmins (mr.), . title-pages, collections sold, . -- volumes of, . title-pages, old dutch, . tomicus typographus, iox. utramontane society, called "old paper," , unitarian library, , universities destroy books, . value of books burnt by st. paul, . vanderberg (m.), . vermin book-enemies, - . pox piscis, . washing old books, x . water an enemy of books, - . waterhouse (mr.), si. werdet (edmond), , . westbrook (w. j.), . westminster chapter-house, . -- skeletons of rats, . white (adam), . wolfenbuttel, library at, . woodcuts, a caxton celebration, . wynken de worde, fragment, . ximenes (cardinal) destroys copies of the koran, . dorothy dixon solves the conway case by dorothy wayne author of dorothy dixon wins her wings dorothy dixon and the mystery plane dorothy dixon and the double cousin the goldsmith publishing company chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright, the goldsmith publishing company made in u. s. a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ to ruth kirby she says my books are "neat".... ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i out of luck ii to the rescue iii in the conway house iv visitors v the motive vi cornered vii raven rocks viii the chimney ix over the top x ol' man river xi mr. john j. joyce xii voices from below xiii the way out xiv the lion's den xv in the toils xvi the book xvii the test ------------------------------------------------------------------------ dorothy dixon solves the conway case chapter i out of luck above the speeding airplane, lowering black of approaching night and storm; below, the forest, grim and silent, swelling over ridges, dipping into valleys, crestless waves on a dark green ocean. "we can't make it, betty." dorothy dixon, at the controls, spoke into the mouthpiece of her headphone set. betty mayo, in the rear cockpit, glanced overside and shuddered. "but you can't land on those trees!" she cried shrilly. "we'll crash--you know that!" "maybe we will--and maybe we won't!" returned dorothy, gritting her teeth. "keep your eyes peeled for a pond or a woodlot--anywhere you think we can land." "what--what's the matter?" called back her friend, steadying her wobbly nerves with an effort. "matter enough. we're nearly out of gas--running on reserve fuel now. when the rain starts, it'll be pitch dark in no time." "oh, dorothy--do try to stay up! we can't crash and be killed--that's what it will mean if you try to land here!" "betty, be-have, will you? this is my funeral." the pilot in her anxiety, had struck upon an unhappy choice of words. "oh, you must do something--this is terrible--" the frenzied girl in the rear cockpit almost shrieked. dorothy ripped off her headphone set. she could no longer allow her attention to be distracted by betty's excited whimpering. the small amphibian, flying low, topped a crag-scarred ridge. at the foot of the cliff she saw a tiny woodland meadow. action in the air must be automatic. there is never time to reason. with the speed of legerdemain the young pilot sent her plane into a steep right bank and pushed down hard on the left rudder pedal. the result was a sideslip, the only maneuver by which the amphibian could possibly be piloted into the woodlot. tilted sideways at an angle that brought a scream from terrified betty, the heavy mass of wood and metal dropped like a plummet toward the earth. this was too much for little miss mayo. convinced that her friend had lost control of the plane, she closed her eyes and prayed. with uncanny accuracy, considering the rainswept gloom, dorothy recovered just at the proper instant. hard down rudder brought the longitudinal axis of the plane into coincidence with its actual flight path again. at the same time she brought the up aileron into play, thereby preventing the bank from increasing. then as the amphibian shot into a normal glide, she leveled the wings laterally by use of ailerons and rudder. their speed was still excessive, so for a split second or two, dorothy leveled off and fishtailed the plane. that is, she kicked the rudder alternately right and left, thereby swinging the nose from side to side, and did so without banking and without dropping the nose to a steeper angle. taking the greatest possible care that her plane was in straight flight prior to the moment of contact with the ground, she gave it a brief burst of the engine, obviating any possibility of squashing on with excessive force. the airplane landed well back on the tail, rolled forward over the bumpy ground and came to a stop at the very edge of the little meadow, nose on to the line of trees and underbrush. dorothy switched off the ignition, snapped out of her safety belt and turned round. "hail, hail, the gang's all here," she said cheerfully. "wake up, betty! we've come to the end of the line." betty opened her eyes and looked about in startled amazement. "why--why we didn't crash, after all!" "certainly not," snorted dorothy. "d'you think i'd let _wispy_ mash up my best friend? come on, dry your eyes. good thing it's so dark and none of the boys are with us. you'd be a fine sight," she teased. "i think _will-o-the-wisp_ is a silly name for a plane." betty's remark was purposely irrelevant. she wanted to change the subject. "then don't think about it. turn your mind upon the answer of that dear old song, 'where do we go from here?'" "where are we?" betty could be practical enough when her nerves were not tried too severely. "mmm!" murmured her friend. "that's the question. i'm not quite sure, but i think we're on the new york state reservation over on pound ridge. a good ten miles or more from home, anyway." "if we're on the reservation we're certainly out of luck," sighed betty. "it's a terribly wild place--nothing but rocks and ridges and woods and things. they keep it that way on purpose." "nice for picnics on sunny days, i guess," affirmed dorothy. "but not so good on a rainy night, eh? here, put on this slicker before you're wet through. then get down. we've got to move out of here." betty stood up, caught the coat dorothy threw into the cockpit, and after slipping into it, she stared fearfully about. "what are you waiting for?" dorothy inquired from below. "i'm going to stay where i am," announced miss mayo in a quavering voice. "it's safer." "how safe?" dorothy turned on her flash light. its moving beam brought into bold relief the jungle of scrub oak and evergreens that walled the little pasture. "listen, dorothy! i remember father saying that they preserved game on the pound ridge reservation. there are sure to be bears and--and other things in these woods. turn off the light--quick--they'll be attracted to us if we show a light--" "bears--your grandmother!" said dorothy's mocking voice and the light flashed full on betty. "don't be so silly. come down here at once!" "no, i won't. i'm going to stay up here. i--i'm sure it's safer." "then you can be 'safer' by yourself. if you think i'm going to stick around this woodlot all night, you've got another guess coming. snap out of it, won't you, betty?" "but you wouldn't leave me all alone out here!" "watch me." the light began to move away from the plane. "i'll come--i'll come with you, dorothy--wait!" the light came back and betty scrambled to the ground in a fever of haste. "now, then, stop being a goop and take this flash," directed dorothy. "hold it on the plane so i can see. we've got to make _wispy_ secure, before we get under way." "i s'pose you get that navy lingo from bill bolton." betty felt rather peevish now. "you talk just like him ever since he taught you to fly." "i wish he was here now," retorted her friend, and climbed into the cockpit. "here--take these wheel blocks and stop grouching. and for goodness' sake, please don't wobble that light! i want to get these cockpit covers on before everything is flooded." a few minutes later she climbed down again and after adjusting the wheel blocks, took the flashlight from betty. "all set?" she inquired briskly. "got your knitting and everything? 'cause it's time we were moving." betty began to cry. "i think you're mean--of course i want to get out of here, but--but you n-needn't--" dorothy put her arm about the smaller girl's shoulders. "there, there," she comforted, "cheer up. i won't be cross any more. here's a hanky, use it and come along. gee, i wish this rain would stop! it's coming down in bucketfuls." "i'm sorry, too, for sniveling," said betty meekly. she made a strenuous effort to be brave as they walked away from the dark shape of the plane. "but don't you think you'd better get out your revolver, dorothy? honestly, you know, we're likely to run into anything out here in these woods." dorothy burst into a peal of laughter. "bless you, honey," she chuckled. "i don't carry a gun when i go calling--or any other time if i can help it. we'll get out of this all right, don't worry. i should have looked at the gas before we left home, but i thought there was plenty to take us over to peekskill and back. _wispy_ eats the stuff--that's the answer!" they stumbled along on the outskirts of the woodlot, dorothy keeping her light swinging from side to side before them. "but i thought you _always_ carried a gun--" insisted betty, her mind still on the same track--"you ought to, after all you went through with those bank robbers and then the gang of diamond smugglers!" "well, you've got to have a license to tote a revolver--i'll admit i've carried 'em now and then--but not to a tea!" replied her friend. "do try and help me now, to find a way out of this place." "but maybe there is no way out. we can't climb those cliffs, and this meadow's hemmed in by the woods. oh, dear, i wish i knew where we are!" "i'm not certain," mused dorothy, more to herself than to her companion, "but i think i caught sight of the fire tower on the ridge just before we sideslipped. that would mean that this meadow is on the eastern edge of the reservation--and that there's a road on the hill across from the ridge. there must be a trail of some kind leading in here. they could never get the hay out or the cattle in, otherwise; this place must be used for something." they trudged along, keeping the trees on their left until the farther end of the meadow was reached. as they rounded the corner the light from the flash brought into view a narrow opening in the trees and undergrowth. "what did i tell you?" sang out dorothy. "there's our trail! this certainly is a lucky break!" "where do you suppose it goes?" betty's question was lacking in enthusiasm. "oh, it's the tunnel from the grand central to the new waldorf-astoria," said dorothy, squinting in the darkness. "i'm going to take a room with a bath. you can have one, too, if you're good!" betty stumbled into a jagged wheel rut and sat down suddenly. "oh, my goodness!" she moaned. "my new pumps are ruined--and these nice new stockings are a mass of runs from those nasty brambles!" "humph! just think how lucky you are to be alive," suggested dorothy callously. "look--we're coming into another meadow. yes--and there's a light--must be a house up there on the hill." "what if they won't let us in?" wailed betty. they were heading across the meadow, now, toward the hill. dorothy stopped and turned the flashlight on her friend. "you certainly are a gloom!" she declared angrily. "do you think i'm enjoying this? _my_ shoes and stockings are ruined, too, and this ducky dress i'm crazy about has a rip in the skirt a yard long. it will probably be worse by the time we get through the brush on that hillside. but there's absolutely no use in whining about it--and there's not a darned thing to be scared of. is that clear to you, betty?" she paused, and then went on more gently. "come on, old thing, you'll feel much better when we've found a place to get warm and dry." "i know you think i'm an awful baby." betty tried her best to make her voice sound cheerful, but her attempt was not a brilliant success. "but i'm just not brave, that's all," she went on, "and i do feel perfectly terrible." "i know. you're not used to this kind of an outing, and i am, more or less. but i can see how it would upset you. here's a stone fence. give me your hand, i'll help you over. fine! now save your breath for the hill. we've got a stiff climb ahead of us." for the next fifteen or twenty minutes they fought their way up the steep slope through a veritable jungle of thickets and rock. in spite of frequent rests on the boulders that dotted the hillside, both girls were exhausted by the time they came to another delapidated stone wall that acted as a low barrier between the brush and an over-grown apple orchard. through the gnarled trunks, they could dimly see the shape of the house whence came the light. dorothy sat down on top of the wall, and pulled betty to a place beside her. then she switched off her flash. "some drag, that!" her breath came in labored gasps. betty was too weary to make any reply. for a time they sat, silently. then dorothy slid painfully off the wall into the orchard. "you stay here, betty. i'm going over to the house and reconnoiter." "say! you don't go without me!" betty sprang down with sudden determination. "then walk carefully and don't make any noise." a tone of startled surprise came into betty's voice. "what--what are you afraid of, dorothy?" she whispered excitedly. "not a thing, silly. but there may be watch dogs--and i want to get some idea of the people who live in that dump before i ask 'em for hospitality. i've got myself into trouble before this, going it blind. i know it pays to be careful. if you must come with me, you must, i suppose. but walk behind me--and don't say another word." she stalked off through the orchard with betty close at her heels. as they neared the house, which seemed to be badly in need of repair, it was plain that the light came from behind a shaded window on the ground floor. dorothy stopped to ponder the situation. a shutter hanging by one hinge banged dully in the wind and a stream of rain water was shooting down over the window from a choked leader somewhere above. she felt a grip on her arm. "let's don't go in there," whispered betty. "it's a perfectly horrid place, i think." "it doesn't look specially cheerful," admitted dorothy. "but there may not be another house within a couple of miles. there's a porch around on the side. maybe we can see into the room from there." together they moved cautiously through the rank grass and weeds to the edge of the low veranda. there was no railing and the glow from two long french windows gave evidence that the floor boards were warped and rotting. the howl of the wind and driving rain served to cover the sound of their movements as they tiptoed across the porch to the far window. both shades were drawn, but this one lacked a few inches of reaching the floor. both girls lay flat on their stomachs and peered in. quick as a flash, dorothy clapped her hands over betty's mouth, smothering her sudden shriek of terror. chapter ii to the rescue the cold, wet wind of late september howled around the house. dorothy wished she had brought a revolver. "stop it! betty, stop!" she hissed and forced her friend to crawl backward over the rough boards to the edge of the porch. "stay here, and don't make a sound. do you want them out after us? for goodness' sake, take a grip on yourself! i'm going back to the window and--not another peep out of you while i'm gone!" with this warning, she slithered away before betty could voice an objection. lying flat before the window once more with her face almost level with the floor, she stared into the room. the scene had not changed. nor had the three principals of the drama being enacted on the other side of the pane moved from their positions. a sudden gust tore loose the shutter at the back of the house, sending it crashing down on some other wooden object with terrific racket. "must have hit the cellar doors," thought dorothy. the man with the cigar, who stood before the cold fireplace stopped talking. she saw him cock his head to one side and listen. the bald-headed man in the leather armchair kept his revolver levelled on the room's third occupant, and snapped out a question. with a shrug, the man by the fireplace went on speaking. he was a dapper person, flashily dressed in a black and white shepherd's plaid suit which contrasted disagreeably with the maroon overcoat worn open for comfort. dorothy took a dislike to him at first sight. not withstanding his mincing gestures, the man had the height and build of a heavyweight prizefighter. now he leaned forward, emphasizing with a pudgy forefinger the point of his oratory which was directed toward the third member of the party. dorothy uttered an impatient exclamation. she could not hear a word. the roaring storm and the closed windows prevented her from catching even the rumble of their voices. she continued to gaze intently upon the prisoner, a well set up youth of eighteen or nineteen, curly-haired and intelligent looking. her sympathy went out at once to this young fellow. he was bound hand and foot to the chair in which he sat. a blackened eye and his shirt, hanging in ribbons from his shoulders, told of a fight. then she spied an overturned table, books and writing materials scattered over the rumpled rug. "whew!" she whistled softly. "he staged a little battle for 'em, anyway, i'll bet!" she smiled as she noticed that the youth's opponents had likewise suffered. for the bald-headed man held a bloodstained handkerchief to his nose, while the other's overcoat was ripped from collar to hem and he nursed a jaw that was evidently tender. the room which lay beneath her scrutiny offered a decided contrast to the unkempt exterior of the house. the walls were completely lined with bookcases, reaching from ceiling to floor. the shelves must have held thousands of volumes. essentially a man's library, the furnishings were handsome, though they had evidently seen better days. in reply to a question barked at him from the dapper prize fighter, the young prisoner shook his head in a determined negative. the big man spat out an invective. this time the boy smiled slightly, shook his head again. with a roar of fury that was audible to the watching girl outside, the prize fighter-bully strode over to his victim and struck him across the mouth. that brutal action decided dorothy. she wormed her way backward off the porch. betty was still crouched where she had left her. she sprang up and caught her friend's arm. "isn't it terrible?" she whispered tensely. "he's such a good-looking boy, too--don't tell me they've killed him or anything?" without speaking, dorothy led her around to the back of the house. "no, they haven't killed him," she answered when they had reached the shelter of the apple orchard. "this is no movie thriller. but something pretty serious is going on in there. now tell me--are you going to pull yourself together and be of some help? because if you're not, you can climb one of these trees and stay there until it's all over. that's the only safe place i know of--and even up there you'll get into trouble if you start screaming again!" "well, i really couldn't help it, dorothy. he was such a darling looking boy and--" "my goodness--what have his looks got to do with it? he's in a peck of trouble--that's the principal thing. i want to help him." "oh, so do i!" asserted betty eagerly. "i'll be good, honest i will." "obey orders?" "do my best." "o.k. then. i'm going round front. those blackguards must have come in a car--and i'm going to find it." "but you can't leave me here alone--" "there you go again, silly! i'm not going to drive away in the car. i've got another plan. listen! there's a cellar door, somewhere back of the house i guess. it's one of the flat kind that you pull up to open. i heard that shutter slam down on it." "i suppose you want me to open it?" "bullseye!" "you needn't be so superior," betty's tone was aggrieved. "what'll i do if it's locked?" "oh, people 'way out in the country never lock their cellar doors," dorothy's tone was impatient, her mind three jumps ahead. "but suppose this one is?" "wait there until i come back. hurry now--there's no telling what's going on in that room. so long--i'll be with you in a few minutes. if you hear a crash, _don't scream_!" she raced away and as she reached the corner of the side porch, a quick glance over her shoulder told her that betty was marching resolutely toward the cellar door. this time dorothy skirted the porch and toward the front of the house she came upon a weed-grown drive which swept in a quarter circle toward the road some fifty yards away. a limousine was parked before the entrance to the house. it was empty. dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. she hurried past the car and found that the drive ran round the farther side of the house, out to a small garage at the back. the garage doors were open, and inside she spied an ancient ford. for some reason the sight of the ford seemed to perturb her. she stood a while in deep thought. then as an idea struck home, she drew forth her flash light and sent its beam traveling over the interior of the garage. she did not take the precaution of closing the doors. the library was on the other side of the house and there was little danger of her light being seen. suddenly she uttered a cry of satisfaction. her light had brought into view about a dozen gasoline tins stacked in a corner. she lifted them one by one--all were empty. she hunted about and presently unearthed a short piece of rubber hose from under the seat of the automobile. "first break tonight!" she said to herself. "here's hoping the luck lasts!" a few minutes later, if anyone had been watching, they would have seen a girl in a slicker, her dark curly hair topped by an aviation helmet, leave the garage carrying two gasoline tins. these she took to the orchard and deposited them behind a couple of apple trees. her next movements were more puzzling. she walked back to the garage and around that little building to the side away from the main house. again her flash light was brought into play. this time she focussed it on the land to the side and rear and saw that the low wall which partly encompassed the orchard ended at the back of the garage. there was no obstruction between the drive at the side of the house and a rough field that sloped sharply down the valley whence she and betty had come. then she realized that the house and orchard lay on a plateau-like rise of land which jutted out into the valley from the main ridge, the ground dropping steeply on three sides. "well, the scenery couldn't be sweeter!" remarked dorothy. "now, i hope to goodness they've left the keys." it was blowing half a gale now, and rain in crystal rods drove obliquely through the flash light's gleam. she switched off the light and stuffed it into a pocket of her dripping slicker and beat her way against the storm toward the house. here she found the limousine, and hastened on toward the side porch. lying flat at the window once more, she saw that a fire had been started in the fireplace. the dapper person crouched before it, holding an iron poker between the burning logs. dorothy realized on the instant the fiendish torture those beasts were planning. she jumped to her feet and tiptoeing over the boards, raced for the car. her hand, fumbling on the dash, brought a faint jangle from a bunch of keys-- "break number three!" she cried and slipped behind the steering wheel. as she switched on the ignition she brought her right foot down on the starter and when the powerful engine purred she fed it more gas and let in the clutch. the car rolled forward and she swung it round the corner of the house toward the garage, with her thumb pressed down hard on the button of the horn. "that'll bring them out!" she chuckled and slipping into high sent the car hurtling off the drive, headed for the field beyond the garage. an instant later she dropped off the running board while the limousine raced into the field and down the steep hillside to the valley below--and destruction. at the same moment dorothy heard shouts from the house and footsteps pounding on the gravel. she wasted no time peering after the car. turning on her heel, she flew round the garage and over to the rear of the house. the cellar door was open, betty was standing on the top step. "down you go!" panted dorothy. "take this flash and switch on the light--quick!" a slight shove sent betty stumbling down the stone flight and dorothy followed more slowly, bringing down the wide door over her head. "the light, betty, the light!" she cried. "b-but we can't go into the house--those men--" "never mind the men--do as you're told. i can't find the lock on this door in the dark. where are you, anyway?" "right here," said a small voice and the flash light gleamed. dorothy shot home the bolt and took the torch into her own hand. "come on!" without waiting to see if her order was obeyed, she ran to the stairs that led up to the first floor. at the top of the short flight, she found a closed door. she opened it and stepped into the kitchen, with betty at her elbow. locking the door behind them, she flashed her light about the room, then walked over to a table and pulled out the drawer. "here--take this!" betty stepped back as a large kitchen knife was thrust in her direction. "take it!" commanded dorothy and again the smaller girl unwillingly did as she was told. "but--but you can't mean we're going to fight them with knives," she spluttered, "why, dorothy--i just couldn't--" "don't talk rot!" dorothy's tone was caustic. "please cut the argument, now--i know what i'm doing!" betty trotted at her heels as she crossed the kitchen toward the front of the house, passed through a swinging door into the dining room. an arched doorway to their right, brought the hall into view, and beyond it, another door stood open, leading into the lighted library, where they saw its single occupant still tied to his chair. "go in there and cut him loose," directed dorothy. she pushed betty into the room and raced for the open front door. she heard the sound of voices from the drive as she neared the end of the hall. she could see the figures of two men just beyond the front steps. just as her hand reached the door handle, they turned in her direction and the black night was seared with the sharp red flash from an automatic. chapter iii in the conway house with the detonation of the gun in her ears, dorothy flung herself against the door and slammed it shut. her hand fumbled for the key, found it and sent the bolt shooting into place. about the house the rain-lashed wind howled and moaned like some wild thing in torment. her heart was pumping and her breath came in choking gasps. leaning against the solid oak door she pressed her ear to a panel. the noise of the storm muffled all other sound, but she thought she could detect the mumble of men's voices just outside the door. it was impossible to catch the words, of course, but the mere sound told the girl that they were standing on the small front porch. to her right was a sitting room. she hurried into it. a quick flash of her torch showed two windows facing the drive. she tried the catches. they were unlocked. she fastened them and ran out of the room, down the hall to the rear. the light from the library threw the staircase into silhouette. dorothy started for the dining room, but stopped short as the young man whom she had sent betty in to free, bounded into the hall. "hello!" he cried. "do you know where they are?" dorothy pointed toward the front door. "right out there!" "good! i'll fix 'em!" he raced up the stairs and she heard him running toward the front of the house. "betty!" she called. "come here!" "what is it?" answered that young lady's voice from the library. "george told me to stay in this room." "_george?_" exploded dorothy. she ran to the door and looked in. betty was toasting her soaking pumps from a chair before the fire. she turned her head when dorothy appeared and beckoned toward the blaze. "yes--george conway," she explained smilingly. "he owns this house, you see." dorothy's fingers pressed the wall switch and the electric lights went out. "well, you _are_ a fast worker--" was her comment. "dash over to those windows and see that they're fastened. then pile some of these chairs and tables in front of the french doors--anything will do, just so it's heavy. hurry--and when you've finished, go into the hall and stay there." betty stared through the darkness. "but george says--" "i don't care _what_ george says! the hall is the safest place right now." "well, why can't you help me?" grumbled betty. "suppose those awful men come before i've--" "they won't if you snap to it. i'm off to fasten the windows in the rest of the house." this last was thrown over her shoulder as she tore across to the dining room. after making the rounds in there she went into the kitchen. here she found a window open and the back door unlocked. it took her but a moment to remedy this, and she was passing back to the dining room when there came a terrific crash and reverberation from the floor above, followed by screams and curses from outside. she went out into the hall and another report from above shook the windows in their frames. betty, wild-eyed with fright, rushed into the bright arc of dorothy's flash light. "what on earth is it?" she cried in very evident alarm. "shotgun," said dorothy tersely. "if those yells meant anything, i guess we can take it that somebody's been hit." then she noticed that betty's left hand held an open compact, while in her right she clutched a small rouge puff. her ash-gold hair which she wore long had become unknotted and hung halfway down her back. her petite figure drooped with weariness. "gracious, betty! how in the wide world did you ever get rouge on the end of your nose? you're a sight!" "well, you turned out the light--" miss mayo's tone was indignant, as she rubbed the end of her nose with a damp handkerchief. "i think i'll run upstairs and spruce up a bit." dorothy looked at her and laughed. "come on up with me," suggested betty. "you don't look so hot yourself." "no, you run along and pander to your vanity, my child. when you've finished, why don't you go into the kitchen and make us a batch of fudge--that would be just the thing!" "why so sarcastic?" betty raised her delicate eyebrows. "well--what do you think we've run into--a college houseparty or something?" "oh, i think you're mean," betty pouted. "but you do choose the queerest times to spiff up!" "do you think those men will try to get in again!" betty's blue eyes widened. "if i didn't know that your head was a fluffball--but what's the use. run along now. it sounds as if george were coming down. hurry up--you might meet him on the stairs!" "cat!" said betty and flew. dorothy went to the door and listened. if the two men were still outside, they gave no sign of their presence. nothing came to her ears through the panels but the howl of the storm. then she heard footsteps running down the stairs from the second story and switched her flashlight on george. he carried a double barreled shotgun in the hollow of his arm. "howdy!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "you know, i can never thank you girls enough for all you've done. gosh! you're a couple of heroes, all right--i mean heroines. when i saw betty--i mean, miss mayo," he amended quickly with an embarrassed grin, "come sprinting into the library and begin to cut me loose, why i just couldn't believe my eyes!" "some wonderworker, isn't she?" dorothy contrived to look awestruck, but there was no malice in her amused tone. "you said it--she's a whizbang! and she told me you two came in an airplane. i've never met a girl aviator before. i guess she's a second dorothy dixon--you must have read what the newspapers said about that girl!" he shook his head admiringly. "betty sure has nerve!" "she has, indeed!" dorothy kept her face straight with an effort. "but tell me--what did you do to that crew outside?" "plugged 'em--clean. got a bead on them through a front window." "what? you--killed them? buckshot, at that distance?" george chuckled. "not buckshot--rock salt. use it for crows, you know. it stings like the dickens." "i'll bet it does!" dorothy's laugh was full-throated and hearty. "what's become of them?" she asked when she could speak. "they beat it around the house to the garage. do you know what happened to their car?" "yes. it ran away--down the lots to the bottom of the valley. and between you and me and the hatrack, i don't think it will ever run any more." "gee whiz!" chuckled george. "who'd ever think a little thing like betty would have the pluck to pull a stunt like that!" "who would?" said dorothy and joined in the laugh. "well, as long as their car is out of the running, they'll probably try to steal my flivver." george tapped his gun significantly, "but i'll put a crimp in that. they've got to pass the dining room windows to get out of here." "you needn't bother--the ford won't move." "sure it will." george stopped short in the doorway and turned toward her. "that car of mine runs like a watch." "but not without gas," explained dorothy. "i drained the tank into a couple of tins." "you did?" "sure thing. parked the tins in your orchard. they'll never find 'em." "say!" exclaimed george. "you must be almost as good as betty that is, i mean--" "who's taking my name in vain?" miss mayo was tripping blithely downstairs. "you two seem to be finding a lot to talk about." george stared at her. "say, you certainly look swell when you're dolled up." "well, it's the best i can do now," deprecated betty. "i borrowed a pair of your slippers though--woolly ones. that is, i s'pose they're yours?" "glad to have you wear 'em." george's eyes were still glued to betty's pretty face when dorothy broke in. "look here, we'll have to get down to business. george--listen to me. betty won't melt, you know--" "oh, i think you're terrible--" interrupted betty. her friend paid no attention, but kept on talking to george. "do you really think they've gone?" he nodded. "i'm pretty sure they have--that is, for the present. you can't do a whole lot when your hide is full of salt. i'll bet they're kiting down the road right now. maybe they'll stop in at the robinson's or somewhere and get a lift to stamford or ridgefield or wherever they came from. they may have some pals about here, of course. i sort of gathered that they weren't working on their own--that there was somebody in back of them." "well, at least we can count on a breather. let's go in the library and turn on the light. i'm tired of standing about in this hall and i want to dry out by the fire." in the library, george pushed a couple of easy chairs before the comforting blaze. dorothy cast aside her slicker and helmet and dropped into one of them. she kicked off her sodden shoes and stretching her legs toward the warmth, drew forth a comb and proceeded to make herself neat. george perched on the arm of betty's chair, and the two stared at the flames without speaking. at last dorothy put her comb away, turned to george and broke the silence. "it's none of my particular business, of course, but would you mind telling me the reason for all this rough house? why did those men attack you and tie you up--what were they doing around here?" george shook his head slowly. "hanged if i know," he said. "you don't know? but they seemed to be asking you questions--from what i could see through the window, it looked that way." "that's right. but--but--well, you two girls are real sportsmen. you've pulled me out of an awful mess. heaven knows i appreciate what you've done, but i just can't have you running any further risk on my account, miss--" "dixon," supplied betty. "i forgot you hadn't been introduced." george leaned forward. "do you come from new canaan?" he shot out. "of course, we live there," said betty. "and i want you to know that dorothy is my best friend. we're seniors at the new canaan high--if that interests you." "so _you're_ dorothy dixon, the flyer!" he exploded. "suffering monkeys! i didn't know i was entertaining a celebrity. why, you're the girl i was talking about--who--" "here, here--don't make me blush," laughed dorothy. "but don't you see? your being dorothy dixon makes all the difference in the world." dorothy's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown. "i don't get you," she said. "i really don't know what you're talking about." "why, if what the newspapers say is true, you simply eat up this gangster stuff--a whiz at solving all kinds of mysteries." "nice lady-like reputation, what?" she mocked. "well, that's all right with me. because now--i have no hesitancy in telling you all i know about this queer business. you'll probably know just what to do--and you'll be a wonderful help." "how about me?" betty was a direct little person and seemed at no pains to disguise her feelings. "i don't think you're a bit polite, george!" "oh, i feel differently about you--" stammered that young man, then stopped short and looked painfully embarrassed. dorothy thought it time she took matters into her own hands. "don't be silly, betty, george knows how clever you are!" she flashed a mischievous glance at her friend, then went on in a serious tone. "and of course we're keen to hear all about it, george, and we'll do anything we can to help you. but your story will keep a while longer. i hope you don't mind my mentioning such a prosaic thing--but do you happen to have anything to eat in the house?" "oh, my gosh! of course i have--" he threw a glance at the clock and jumped to his feet. "it's nearly eight o'clock. you girls must be starved! sit right here and i'll bring supper in a jiffy. i was just about to eat mine when those two thugs dropped in and put an end to it for the time being." "i'll help you," offered betty, hopping out of her chair. "that's a good plan," decreed dorothy. "while you're starting things in the kitchen, i'd like to use the phone, if i may." "there it is, on that table in the corner," said george. "hop to it. i'll drive you home later in the flivver." "thanks, but i've got to have gas for my plane. we'll talk it over at supper, shall we?" she took up the telephone and the others hurried from the room. presently she joined them in the kitchen. "i called up your mother, betty, and told her you were spending the night with me," she announced. "dad is away, so i got hold of bill bolton and he'll be over here in about twenty minutes." "oh, fine--" began betty and stopped short as an electric bell on the wall buzzed sharply. for a moment they stared at it in startled silence. then george spoke. "somebody's ringing the door bell," he said slowly. chapter iv visitors "you girls stay in here--i'll go," continued george, his hand on the swinging door to the dining room. "no, you shan't!" betty sprang before him, blocking his way. "don't make such a fuss," said dorothy. "somebody's got to go. come here!" her long arm shot out and betty was held in a light embrace that seemed as unbending as tempered steel. "stop wriggling," she commanded. "this is george's job. did you leave your gun in the library, george?" "yes. i'll pick it up on the way." "better not do that. maybe it's one of your neighbors." "haven't any. none of the people around here come to see me." the bell buzzed loudly again, and continued to do so. someone was keeping a finger pressed on the button beside the front door. "i have a plan," dorothy announced suddenly. "betty, you stay here, and--" "and have them break in the back door while you two are in the front hall? no thanks--i'm coming with you, that's all." dorothy did not stop to argue. she hurried into the dining room and across the hall to the library, followed by the others. "look here," she whispered, picking up the shotgun. "slip on your jacket, george. that shirt will show anyone you've been in a fight. betty and i will go into the front sitting room. it's dark in there. turn on the hall light and open the door as though everything were all right, and you expected a friend. if it is someone you know, they won't see us in the sitting room. if it isn't--and they try to start something, jump back so you're out of line from the door to that room ... and i'll fill 'em full of salt!" "swell idea! a regular flank attack!" enthused the young man, struggling into his coat. "all set?" he switched on the hall light. the girls ran into the sitting room. dorothy stood in the dark with the shotgun pointed toward the hall and saw him turn the key and pull open the door. "good evening, george," whined a high-pitched voice. "mind if i come in for a minute or two?" "walk in, mr. lewis. bad night, isn't it?" george's face showed surprise but he swung the door wide and closed it with a bang as a tall figure, leaning heavily on a cane, shuffled into the lighted hallway. the man's bent back, rounded shoulders and the rather long white hair that hung from beneath the wide brim of his soft black hat, all bespoke advanced age. immensely tall, even with his stoop, the old man towered over george, who was all of six feet himself. although the night was not cold, he was buttoned to the chin in a long fur coat. dorothy caught sight of piercing black eyes beneath tufted white eyebrows. the long, cadaverous, clean shaven face was a network of fine wrinkles. "what say?" he cupped a hand behind his ear. "i said it was a bad night to be out in," shouted george. "what can i do for you?" "yes, that's it, my lad--there's something i--yes, it's a bad night--bad storm. listen, george!" "yes, sir." "what say?" "i'm listening, mr. lewis." "well, listen then." the sharp eyes peered up and down the hall. dorothy moved further back into the dark room. "your father had a lot of books, george--a very fine library." "yes, he had." "what say?" "i said he had." the old man shook his head. his high voice became querulous. "i know he's dead," he snorted. "i'm talking about his books." "they are not for sale," said george. "bless you--i don't want to buy 'em. but there's one i want to borrow." "which one is that?" "what say?" george's reply _sotto voce_ was not polite. he was getting impatient. "i want to borrow a book called aircraft power plants; it's by a man named jones." dorothy pricked up her ears. "all right," shouted george. "i'll try to find it." "what say? listen, george! speak distinctly, if you can. i'm not deaf--just a little hard of hearing. don't mumble--you talk as though your mouth was full of hot potato. that's a bad eye you've got--been in a fight?" george ignored this last. "listen--" he said, then stopped, controlling a desire to giggle as he realized his plagiarism. "come into the library, mr. lewis. i'll try to find the book for you." he took the old man by the arm and led him down the hall. betty crept over to dorothy. "do you know who he is?" she asked in a low tone. "mr. lewis, i gathered," said dorothy, straining her ears to catch the muffled sounds coming from the library. "_he_ talked loud enough,--quite an old gentleman, isn't he?" "old skinflint, you mean." "you've seen him before?" "certainly. i've seen him at our house. daddy knows him--says he's made a fortune, foreclosing mortgages and loaning money at high rates of interest. he's terribly rich, though you'd never know it by his looks." "that's interesting--wonder what he wants with george?" "came to borrow a book--that's plain enough." "almost too plain, if you want my opinion," dorothy said thoughtfully. "there's no use guessing at this stage of the game." "what are you talking about?" "oh, nothing much. can you hear what they're saying in the next room?" "they seem to be having an argument--but it's not polite to listen--" "polite, your grandmother! i'd listen if i could--but all i get is a mumble-jumble. i vote we go back to the kitchen. i want my supper. i'll feel better when i've eaten. this house gives me the jim-jams for some reason." "me, too," betty admitted ungrammatically. "fancy being alarmed at the sound of a doorbell!" "my word--and likewise cheerio!" dorothy turned the flash on her friend. "how do you get that way, betty? been reading the british poets or something?" betty blinked in the glare. "turn it off. no, i haven't. don't you remember the movies last night? the english duke in that picture--" she broke off suddenly and caught at dorothy's arm. "listen--dot, listen!" she whispered. from the rear of the house came a muffled pounding. dorothy shook her off. "i'll dot you a couple, if you take liberties with my name," she snapped. "and for goodness' sake, don't hold on to me that way, and stop that listen stuff! this isn't an earthquake--somebody's at the back door, and i'm going to see who it is!" "but suppose those men have come back?" "they're too well salted down," dorothy flung back at her. "i _fancy_ you'd better stay in here--if you're _alarmed_!" she crossed the hall to the dining room again and hurried through the kitchen with betty close on her trail. that young person apparently preferred to chance it rather than be left alone. dorothy went at once to the back door. "who's there?" she called, as the knocking broke out again. "it's bill bolton," returned a muffled voice. "is that you, dorothy?" she drew back the bolt and flung the door open. "hello, bill!" she hailed. "you're just in time for supper." a tall, broadshouldered young fellow wearing golf trousers and an old blue sweater which sported a navy "n" came into the room. he was bareheaded and his thick, close-cropped thatch of hair was brown. when he smiled, bill bolton was handsome. a famous ace and traveller at seventeen, this friend of dorothy's had not been spoiled by notoriety. his keen gray eyes twinkled goodnaturedly as he spoke to dorothy. "well, i should say you look pretty much at home," he grinned. "but then you have a faculty of landing on your feet. and how's betty tonight? thought i'd find you girls in a tight fix and here you are--getting up a banquet. terry walters was over at my house when you rang up, so he came with me. he's outside, playing second line defense. all sereno here, i take it?" "quiet enough now," dorothy admitted, "though it was a bit hectic, to say the least, a while back. call terry in, will you? i'm going to do some scrambled eggs and bacon now." she reached for a bowl and began to crack eggs and break them into it. bill stuck his head out the door and whistled. a moment later, a heavy set, round faced lad of sixteen made his appearance in the doorway. under his arm he carried a repeating rifle. "h'lo, everybody," he breezed, resting his rifle against the wall. "this is some surprise,--bill and i were all set to play the heavy heroes and we find you making fudge!" "not fudge," corrected betty. "honest-to-goodness food! dorothy and i haven't had a single thing to eat since lunch, except a lettuce sandwich and some cake at helen ritchie's tea over at peekskill this afternoon. we're getting supper now." "_we?_" dorothy's tone was richly sarcastic. "then, old dear, suppose you do some of the getting. i think i heard the front door shut just now, so that means that old mr. lewis has shoved off. you can go into the dining room and set the table.--bill, you're a good cook--how about starting the coffee? terry, be a sport and cut some bread--you might toast it while you're about it!" "whew!--some efficiency expert!" terry winked at bill. "where do they keep the bread box in this house, anyway?" "barks her orders like a c.p.o. doesn't she?" laughed bill, opening the coffee tin. then he drew forth a wax-paper wrapped loaf from an enameled container, held it up: "here's your bread, terry--catch!" the door from the dining room swung open and george came in. "well, george!" dorothy turned to the others. "here is our host," she explained and introduced him all round. "it's certainly white of you fellows to hustle over here," he said as he shook hands. "i appreciate it." "oh, don't mention it," grinned bill. "we seem to be rather late for the excitement." "well, if it hadn't been for betty and dorothy--" began george. "you'd have pulled yourself out all right," interrupted the latter young lady. "look here, supper's nearly ready, and since i've set everybody else to work, suppose i give you a job, too? take betty into the dining room and show her how to set the table, and you'll be a fine help." "say, it's great, the way you've pitched in here--did you have a hard time finding things?" "no, not at all. except--" here dorothy looked stern, "i don't approve of your housekeeping methods--i had to scour the frying pan twice, sir, do you realize that?" george hung his head. "gee, i guess i'm pretty careless, but--" the cook giggled: "mercy, you look downcast. i was only kidding, george. i think you're a fine housekeeper, honestly, i do. now you get a wiggle on with the table, please. these eggs are nearly finished. they'll be ruined if we have to wait." when the two had disappeared, dorothy dished the scrambled eggs into a warm plate and turned to bill and terry. "he thinks betty ran this job," she informed them. "they've got a crush on each other, i guess. so don't put him wise, will you?" "mum's the word," smiled bill, while terry nodded. "far be it from me to mess up love's young dream." "don't be silly," retorted dorothy. "but you know, betty's a darling. i had to be terribly cross with her all the time, just to keep her bucked up. but she's my best friend and i'm crazy about her." "she is nervous and high-strung, i know," supplemented terry. "i'll bet you had a sweet time with her." "not so bad. have you boys had supper?" "oh, yes, some time ago," answered bill. "that's good. i didn't want to use up all george's food. i'll let you have some coffee, though--that is, if you're good and don't kid those two in the other room." "cross-my-heart-hope-to-die-if-i-do." bill's face was solemn. "likewise me," declaimed terry. "i must have my coffee." "table's set," announced betty, popping in to the kitchen, closely followed by george. "eggs are finished and the bacon's fried," returned dorothy. "how about the coffee, bill?" "perfect--though i sez so." "_and_ the toast!" terry was busy buttering the last slice. "you know, lovers used to write sonnets on their lady's eyebrows--now, if they'd seen this toast!" dorothy shook her head at him. "that will be about all from you. come along, all of you--everything smells so good, and i'm simply ravenous." it was a merry party that gathered about the old mahogany dining table. bill began by teasing dorothy about her lack of foresight that sent her up on a flight without enough gas. she returned his banter with interest: the others joined in and for a time everybody was wisecracking back and forth. george was the first to bring the conversation back to current events. "i don't know mr. lewis very well," he replied in answer to a question of betty's. "he was a friend of my father's--at least father had business dealings with him. i thought i'd never get rid of the old boy tonight." "did you find the book he wanted?" asked dorothy. "jones' aircraft power plants, wasn't it?" "some book, too!" affirmed bill. "have you read it, conway?" "didn't know i owned it. the book--in fact, the whole library, was my father's. about all he saved from the wreck. when i couldn't find the book for old lewis, what do you think he said?" "'listen!'" dorothy's voice mimicked perfectly the old gentleman's querulous tones. everyone burst into laughter. "yes, he said that," george told her, "and a whole lot more." "i hate riddles," cried betty. "do tell us--" "why, he wanted to buy the entire library--and when i turned him down, he made me an offer on the house providing entire contents went with it!" betty laughed. "a good low price, i'll bet. mr. lewis is a terrible old skinflint." "i thought so, too, until he made me this offer." "do you mind saying how much?" dorothy never hesitated to come to the point. "twenty-five thousand dollars!" "seems like a lot of money to me!" was bill's comment. "a lot of money! i should say so." george cried excitedly. "why, this place isn't worth more than eight--possibly ten thousand dollars at the outside." "i smell a rat," said terry, "or to put it more politely, the old boy's offer has something doggoned stinking crooked mixed up in it." "to add to our cultured brother's oratory," said bill, "there certainly seems to be something pretty darned putrid in the kingdom of denmark!" "a whole lot nearer home, if you ask me," broke in dorothy.--"that old man--" "just a moment," begged bill. "your deductions, miss dixon, are always noteworthy. in fact, at times, the press of our glorious country has frequently referred to you as miss sherlock holmes, but--" "cut the comedy, bill!" broke in the object of this effusion. "what is it you're driving at?" "simply, as i was saying when so rudely interrupted, that your deductions and ideas on this business may be aland a yard wide, but except for what you shot at me over the telephone, both terry and i are wading about in a thick pea soup fog, so to speak. suppose you give us your account of these mysterious happenings. that should put us 'hep' to the situation, and then george can tell us his end of the story, why he got tied up by these blokes and all that." george did not appear cheerful. "but i don't know--" he protested. "haven't the slightest idea." "so dorothy said over the phone. but perhaps if you start far enough back--give us the story of your life, as it were--we may be able to dig out a motive." "at times you show positively human intelligence, bill!" dorothy yawned, without apology. "well, here goes! maybe if bill will let me get a few words in edgewise, i may forget i'm so sleepy!" chapter v the motive "and then i opened the back door and found you standing there, bill. phew!" dorothy ended with a sigh. "it's almost more of an effort in the telling than it was in the doing!" "i wouldn't believe it if i didn't know it was true," declared terry solemnly. "you've the great gift of stating things clearly, terry," remarked bill bolton. "in other words, why must you put in your foot every time you open your mouth? dorothy, my girl, you said your piece nicely." "i'm not your girl, thank heaven! if i was at all interested, i'd certainly burst into tears. please don't try to be humorous--it's painful, positively painful." "i guess i'd better begin my story," george decided diplomatically. "or somebody's likely to start throwing things. where do you want me to start?" "like this," volunteered terry, setting his empty coffee cup on its saucer. "'i was born an orphan at the age of four, of poor but dishonest parents....'" "'and until the age of thirteen and three-quarters, could only walk sideways with my hair parted in the middle,'" came george's quick follow up. "he's all right," decreed bill. "let him speak his piece, gang--this is going to be good." "of all the conceited nerve!" exclaimed dorothy. "do shut up and give george a chance," broke in betty heatedly. "i want to hear about it--and this is a serious matter, i--" "now you're the one who's stopping him," accused her chum. "for goodness' sake, get going, george--we've got to drive to new canaan some time tonight." "all right," said george. "if you people don't find it interesting, well, you've brought it on yourselves. surprising as it may seem, i was born at the usual age at 'hilltop,' that big whitehouse on the ridge, overlooking the other side of the reservation. father, you know, was an inventor. he was always an extremely reticent man and i realized as i grew older that he was very much of a recluse. he never spoke to mother and me about his inventions, but they must have brought him a good income. we kept up that big place and had plenty of servants, although we entertained very little. after i got through the nursery stage, i had a french governess and later a tutor. mother and i were great pals. she must have been a busy woman, for she superintended the running of our model farm and dairy, but she was never too occupied with her duties but what she had time to romp and play with me. i know now that she must have led a very lonely life. "my father spent nine-tenths of the time in his laboratory and workshop. he did not encourage friends or acquaintances and he never went anywhere with mother. he had but one hobby, his work, and although i know he was very fond of us, the work came first. even later, when i grew up, he never seemed like the fathers of other fellows i knew. it was his reticence and absolute absorption in those inventions of his that kept us practically strangers. "five years ago last spring, when i was twelve, mother died. her heart had never been strong--her going took the only person i really loved away from me." george was unable to go on for a moment, and betty caught his hand under the table and held it. the tenderhearted little girl was very near to tears. george smiled manfully, then went on with his recital. "sorry," he apologized for his show of feeling, "i never quite got over losing mother. my governess had been replaced by a tutor a couple of years before this, but now father decided i was to go to boarding school. so i was packed off to lawrenceville, a homesick, lonely little kid if there ever was one. i'd never been thrown with boys of my own age before--i guess i was pretty much of a young prig--but as the poet says, 'i soon learned different.' "during the holidays i used mostly to come back to hilltop. father never made a kick if i brought fellows back with me. we had the run of the place, which he kept up just as it had been when mother was alive. one thing was understood though: he must not be annoyed by my guests. there were saddle horses, for he rode regularly every morning before breakfast; cars to drive, and he also belonged to the club over at bedford, although i don't think he had ever seen the place. he gave me plenty of money to spend and always allowed me to accept invitations from other fellows to visit at their homes. altogether i had a pretty good time. the only trouble was that father never took any real interest in me. i was lucky enough to get my 'l' at football, but he never came down to lawrenceville--not even to see a game." "i've got your number, now!" cried terry, interrupting him. "you're stoker conway! i thought i'd seen you before. say, bill, this guy is too modest. 'lucky to make his letter,' i don't think! conway captained the lawrenceville team last season. my cousin, ed durham (they call him bull durham down there) played left tackle. i went down with dad and uncle harry last fall to see the princeton freshman-lawrenceville game." "i remember your telling about it," said dorothy. "somebody, i think, made a sixty-yard run for a touchdown." "i'll bet george did it," piped up betty. "he certainly did! and let me tell you, angelface, that your boy friend was the fastest halfback lawrenceville or any other school has seen in years. all american stuff--that's what he is. hard luck you didn't get to college this year, old man." "can't always have what we want," remarked george philosophically. "who won the game?" asked bill. "the one you saw, terry?" "why, lawrenceville, of course. smeared 'em--outplayed those freshies from start to finish and did it with a lighter team. thirty-three to nothing--think of it!" dorothy turned toward george. "stoker conway--i like that name, 'stoker.' how did you get it?" george grinned. "i was a grubby little mutt--my first term at lawrenceville. somebody pasted the name on me, and it stuck." "three celebrities at one table," sighed terry. "i knew we had two with us to-night--but a third! it's just too much. betty, you and i have just got to do something to make ourselves famous. there's practically no hope for me, i admit, but you will probably become a movie queen, when you're old enough--ash-gold hair and a baby doll face are all the rage on the screen!" "oh, i don't know," hit back betty, ignoring the laughter caused by this left handed compliment. "how about the fame you won in the diamond smuggling case? you got plenty of newspaper publicity then." this sally turned the laugh on terry, for as the three others knew, he had played anything but an heroic part in that episode. but terry was a jolly soul and his hearty laugh at his own expense joined with the others. "lay off, betty!" he cried, "that was one below the belt. what do you bet i spot the motive in this mysterious case of stoker's?" "see here, will you pipe down?" bill expostulated. "all you will spot is your clothes. keep quiet and quit waving your arms--you nearly upset my coffee. how can any of us learn anything unless you give stoker a chance to get on with his story?" terry suppressed a retort and george hurried into the breach. "here goes on the second installment, then," he said. "and it will probably interest you all to know i'm pretty near the end. let's see--where was i?" "last fall, at lawrenceville," prompted dorothy. "you couldn't get your father to come down there." george nodded. "yes, that's right. he never would come--not even when i graduated last june. i wrote him specially about it, but, well, he was having his own troubles about that time. before i came home i passed my finals for princeton. it was on the books that i'd go there this fall. "only i didn't," continued young conway rather solemnly. "father met me at the bedford station in the flivver when i came back. on the way up here he told me that reverses in business had forced him to sell hilltop. i knew, of course, that business conditions were pretty bad all over the country. but he looked ill and he had aged terribly since i'd seen him during the easter holidays. i was much more worried about his physical condition, he seemed so played out, so feeble. but when we drove into the yard and i saw this down-at-the-heels old house--well, i certainly got another shock." "it must have been terribly hard," sympathized betty. "especially after living all your life in the big place on the hill." "a bit of a comedown," acknowledged george, "but i don't want any of you to think i was ashamed of the place. if father had to live here, it was good enough for me. i felt so sorry for him, though. he'd never been much of a mixer, as i said, but when he did talk to a fellow he was certainly interesting, full of pep and vitality--and a sure hog for work. now all that was changed. he had no workshop or laboratory here. all day long and half the night he would sit reading in the library across the hall. if i spoke to him, he would answer 'yes' or 'no' to a question--but never volunteered anything on his own account. he seemed more like a man stunned--a man who realizes his life is a failure and no longer cares to go on. "the woman down the road who cooks and keeps the house clean told me he had moved in here the early part of april and that during the time before i came back, he had been exactly as i found him. "i wanted to get a job in the city. even though i couldn't get him to talk about his affairs, i knew he couldn't have very much money, living in a ramshackle place like this. but though i wanted to get out and earn some money, i realized i must stay with him for the time being--and i'm glad i did. father passed away in his sleep the night of july fourth. the doctor said it was his heart--like mother. "well, i guess that's about all of it. when the will was read i found that he'd left me everything. it amounted to two thousand dollars in cash, and this house and the sixteen acres that go with it. i stuck on here for the rest of the summer, trying to get the place in better shape; gave the house a couple of coats of paint, re-shingled parts of the roof, and have done as much as i could. i'm trying to sell the place, you know, and the agent told me i could never do it unless it was put in better condition. it looks pretty bad still, but i've worked like a dog. "and i forgot to say, that mr. lewis bought hilltop from father. he drops in here every once in a while for a chat. i know he's got a reputation for being a skinflint, but i sort of like the old man, anyway." dorothy, who had been absent-mindedly rolling bread pills on the table cloth, threw him a sharp glance. "what happened tonight, before we came?" she asked. "why, i was just about to get my supper, when the bell rang. i opened the door and those two guys jumped me." "not very subtle, were they? what do you suppose they were after?" bill looked inquiringly at george. "well, this is the funny part of it all. they said they'd come for the letter father had left for me to read after his death--" "and you didn't give it to them?" "i'd never even heard of such a letter. i told them so." "and they wouldn't believe you, eh?" "they thought i was bluffing, of course." "but how on earth--did they say anything about the contents of the letter?" this question came from dorothy. "no. simply that they wanted it--and they knew i must have it. what i can't understand is how they could be so sure that a letter exists--even if i'd known about it, i wouldn't have given it to them--but it's all as clear as mud to me." "has mr. lewis ever spoken to you about it?" "never." "have you any reason to suppose that your father might have left a letter for you--any idea that he might have had an important message to convey to you in that way?" "not the slightest. you see, i--" "look here," broke in terry. "do you think it possible that old lewis knew that your father wrote you that letter--and believes that it's in this house? he might have hired those thugs to get it from you, then when he found out they failed, he hopped over here himself and made that offer to buy your place, in order to get hold of it? there may be something valuable contained in it, and he wants to get it at any cost." "too crude," declared dorothy with a shake of her head. "perhaps he does want to buy it--but i doubt if he has anything to do with those holdup fellows. mr. lewis may be close but i'm sure he's a clever man. the very fact that he came here so soon after the fracas clears his skirts of trying to hold up stoker. as i say, he may want to get hold of the letter himself, but i'm dead sure he's not the nigger in this particular woodpile." "then who is?" terry wanted to know. "tell us that, and you'll win the fame you're after," chuckled betty. "just a moment," bill was speaking again. "if old lewis is as clever as you think he is, dorothy, then the smart thing for him to do would be exactly what he _has_ done!" "how's that?" "well, if he did hire those lads, he might figure that by coming over here, stoker'd begin to believe he was the man behind the gun. _but_, he might have realized that on second thought, stoker would discount the idea, for the very reason you have done so." "gosh!" exploded terry. "that's a stumper, bill. what are we going to do about it?" "that's the question--_can_ we do anything?" dorothy flicked a bread pill across the table. chapter vi cornered "there's one thing about it," bill bolton told the others seated at the supper table. "this letter that mr. conway is supposed to have written to stoker is at the bottom of all this queer business." "but that doesn't get us anywhere, does it?" objected terry. "we must find out what that letter's about. get hold of the underlying motive, you know." "say, you got that out of a detective story--'underlying motive'--i know you did." betty shook an accusing finger at him. "well, what of it? that's the thing we've got to do--and i guess it doesn't matter how you say it." "enter doctor watson!" bill grinned and winked at dorothy. "look out for your laurels, miss sherlock holmes!" "oh, come on--this isn't any jazz number," she returned with spirit. "what's your big idea, terry?" "why, hunt for the letter of course. when we find it, we'll have the--ahem!--underlying motive as well." "maybe. who's going to do the hunting?" "all of us. we'll each take a room, and--" dorothy laughed. "you're some organizer. suppose you start in with the library. it won't take you more than a week to go through all the books in that room!" "but listen, dorothy--" "don't be absurd. we'll have a hunt tomorrow, if you want. but betty and i have got to get home now--and anyway, i know where that letter is." the four about the table stared at her in unfeigned amazement. "_where?_" they cried in chorus. "i'll give each of you three guesses," she went on mischievously. "oh, don't be horrid," pleaded betty. "you know we're absolutely up a tree--" chimed in george. "come on and tell," invited bill. "how did you find out?" added terry. "simply by keeping my eyes and ears open," retorted the object of this wordy bombardment, "and by knowing that two and two make four, not sometimes, but all the time. every one of you has heard as much about this as i have tonight, and every one, excepting stoker, has kidded me because i found out some things about the bank robbery and that smuggling gang this summer. now you won't even take the trouble to think for yourselves. the whereabouts of that letter is clear enough; to be able to put our hands on it, is something quite different." "well, i apologize for us all," bill leaned across the table, "we were only kidding you--weren't we, betty?" "why, of course--she knows that, she's only trying to--" "come on, dorothy," terry coaxed her with a grin. "the letter is--?" george asked soberly. dorothy pursed her lips, then smiled. "in your father's copy of jones' aircraft power plants," she replied calmly. "find that book, which mr. lewis was so keen to locate that he offered to buy this house in order to get it--and you'll have the letter." "i believe you're right," conceded bill, "you generally are--but that book is going to take some finding, or i've got another guess coming." "if there really is a letter and it's in the book," said george, "mr. lewis must have hired those men." "not necessarily," returned dorothy, "but i'll admit it's possible." george's face wore a puzzled frown. "what i can't understand is why outsiders should know about this letter, when i have never heard of it." "and if your father really wrote a letter to you, and they knew it--why did they wait nearly three months before they tried to steal it?" bill shook his head. "it's beyond me." "and why did they start in using strong arm stuff right off the bat?" terry propounded this question to the table at large. "well, i think it is the most mysterious thing i ever heard of," said betty, struggling to stifle a yawn. dorothy stood up. "well, we can't talk about it any longer tonight. betty and i must be getting home." she turned to bill. "did you bring some extra gas for _wispy_?" she asked. "from the sound of things outside, the storm seems to be pretty well over. i don't want to leave the plane in that woodlot all night. some tramp might come across her and bust something." "i've brought enough gas to fly back to new canaan and then some. i'll go with you in the plane." "how about me?" betty looked surprised, yet oddly hopeful. "terry'll drive you home," said bill. george looked disappointed, but voiced no objection to the plan, and betty merely shrugged. dorothy spoke up quickly. "no, i think you'd better stay here tonight, terry. somebody ought to stay here with george ... pardon me, stoker! but as it's sunday to-morrow, there's no school to get up early for, and stoker can drive betty over to my house and come back here. bill and i will bring her over after breakfast and we can see what we can do to locate that letter." "good plan," agreed young conway enthusiastically. "i'll be back in less than an hour." "but who's going to wash all these dishes?" grumbled terry. "not afraid to stay here, are you?" said dorothy. "oh, if you put it that way i'll wash them," he retorted. "you do 'em tonight, and we'll do 'em tomorrow--but we really must be going now." ten minutes later, betty and george chugged out of the drive in his flivver. terry parked bill's car in back of the house, then he helped his friend to lift out the three large tins of gasoline they had brought with them from new canaan. "i'll take two," announced bill, "and you'll have to tote the other one, dorothy." "hadn't i better carry it down the hill?" suggested terry. "it's kind of heavy." "no, thanks, i can manage it all right." she lifted the can by its handle. "it's not so heavy. your job is to stay in the house. as it is, i hate leaving you here alone." terry waved them off. "i'll be all right," he scoffed. "i think we've got those guys buffaloed--for the time being, anyway." "keep your rifle handy," advised bill, "and don't open up to anyone except stoker." "you bet i won't." "good night, then--" "and good luck," added dorothy, switching on her flash. "good night, both of you--see you in the morning." he watched their light travel into the orchard and turned back to the empty house. dorothy and bill reached the rear wall of the orchard and came to a stop. although the storm had passed and with it the driving rain, heavy cloud formations obscured the stars. "better hop over the fence, dorothy," said bill, "then i'll pass these containers across to you. gee whiz! it sure is some black night. you came up this way, didn't you?" "yep." dorothy's voice came from the other side where her light was flashing. "hand over the cans. that's right." bill joined her and picked up his load again. "the ground slopes down to the valley from here," she said. "drops would be a better word, i guess. it goes down like the side of a roof. watch your step! this wet grass is slippery as ice." "i've found that out," said bill, sitting down suddenly. "which way is that woodlot trail from here?" he got to his feet. the tins had saved him from a bad tumble. "off to the right--down in the valley." "then let's steer off that way. take this hill on the oblique. it's easier walking. by the way, which side of the river have you got the bus parked?" "river? what river? i didn't know there was one." "well, there is. stone hill river, it's called. if you didn't cross it going up to stoker's house, the plane must be on this side." "you've got a master mind," she retorted and her light went out. "what's the matter?" "followed your example, and sat down." the light flashed on again. "aren't hurt, are you?" "don't be personal," she laughed. "how did you know there was a river down in the valley?" "why, i brought a map of the reservation with me--studied it on the way over while terry drove. we'd never have found that dirt road stoker's house is on otherwise. part of it is really in the reservation, you see. the concrete road from poundridge village that runs to south salem parallels it about a quarter of a mile to the east." "route ," said dorothy, walking carefully for fear of slipping again. "i know that road. ever been in the reservation, bill?" "no--have you?" "when i was a little girl, we used to drive over, for picnics sometimes. i don't remember much about it, though, except that it's a terribly wild place--all rocks and ridges and forest. it covers miles. the state has cut trails and keeps them open, otherwise the woods have been left in their virgin state." "there are cabins, too, the map calls them shelters," bill informed her. "the state rents them to camping parties. well, it's quite wild enough to suit me right here. how are you making out?" dorothy was leading the way with her light. "fine, thanks. i'm on the level again." "glad to hear that you are," chuckled bill. "silly! i mean i'm on fairly level ground again. and look what i've found." her light flashed to the left and came to rest on the wreck of a seven passenger closed car. "good enough!" exclaimed bill. "those thugs won't do any more riding in that bus. see how the car smashed that big tree--it must have torn down the hill like greased lightning!" they deposited their gasoline tins on the grass and inspected the mass of twisted metal more closely. "hello!" ejaculated dorothy. "someone's been here before us." "how do you figure that?" "the license plates have been removed. i know they were on the car when i sent it down here. i was in such a rush i forgot to take the number, worse luck!" "too bad--now we won't be able to trace the owner." "oh, yes, we will. unless we've got an unusually clever mind bucking us, i'll bet we can trace it through the factory number and the number of the engine. give me a hand, bill. let's get the hood up." "master mind number two," grunted bill when dorothy's flash was turned on the motor. "him and me both, eh? the number plate has been removed, and the one on the engine chiseled off. those lads must have had a lovely time doing it, with their hides full of salt." dorothy switched off her light with a click. "_they_ never came down here, in their condition," she said decisively. "it must have been somebody else--probably the man who is back of them--or others of that gang." "old lewis?" "i don't know. of course, he himself couldn't have done this--" "yes, he's a bit too old to come traipsing down to this valley all alone in the dark." "too bad we've showed our light on the hill and around here just now," she said slowly. "you think they may still be in the offing?" "i hope not. chances are they don't know about the plane." "you'd better go back to the house," he advised. "i can lash two of these tins together and sling them over my shoulder. if there's going to be a shindy, you'll be better off up the hill with terry." "thanks a lot," said dorothy. "if there's going to be trouble, we'll go it together. anyway, you'd never be able to find the trail to the woodlot in the dark. it's great of you to suggest carrying on without me, but it just can't be done." "you sure are a good sport, dorothy." bill picked up his tins. "where do we go from here?" "follow me. and the less noise we make, the better." with bill close on her heels, she led across the clearing toward the dark line of trees on their left, winding her way around rocky out-croppings and stunted bushes that made traveling in the dark a difficult proceeding. "think you can find the cart road?" she heard him whisper. "it's black as your hat without the flash." "sure can," she replied cheerfully. "all we have to do is to turn right at the woods and follow them up the valley until we come to it. quiet, now--if anybody's, watching, we may be able to get by them in the dark." they had gone another twenty yards or so, when dorothy stopped suddenly and caught at bill's arm. "there's somebody behind that big rock to the left!" she whispered fiercely. "i'm sure i saw something move." "you sure did, young lady," announced a gruff voice close to their right. "tell your girl friend not to make a fuss, mr. conway. my men are all around you." a tall figure, hardly more than a blur in the darkness, stepped from behind a tree and came toward them. chapter vii raven rocks bill bolton dropped one of the gasoline tins he was carrying and grasping the other with both hands, hurled its heavy bulk at the stranger. the tin caught the man full in the chest. as he staggered back, dorothy felt herself seized from behind. a quick twist and pull sent her antagonist hurtling off to the right. it was not for nothing she had put in long hours mastering the complicated throws and holds of jiu jitsu, that strenuous art of japanese wrestling. she freed herself in time to see bill crash his fist into the face of a third man. "come on!" he yelled, and they raced for the line of trees. but their troubles were not over yet. straight ahead and directly in their path, another dark figure was leaping toward them. there was no time to dodge--to swerve. bill dove at the man, stopping him short and bringing him to the ground with a clean tackle just above his knees. the force of contact was terrific. for the fraction of a second neither the tackler nor his opponent moved. then as dorothy, trembling with excitement, bent over them, bill scrambled to his feet. "are you hurt, bill?" the girl's voice was breathless with concern. "no--only winded--" he gasped. "be all right--in a minute." dorothy gripped him by the arm and they trotted forward again, gradually increasing their speed as bill regained his breath. from behind them came the calls and angry shouts of their pursuers. all at once, the inky black blur of the woods loomed before them. "keep along the edge of this pasture toward the wood road," dorothy whispered quickly. "i'm going to start a false trail. maybe we can fool them. you get your breath--join you in a minute or two." she sprang into the underbrush, crashing over low bushes, snapping dead twigs and branches under foot with all the clatter of a terrified cow in a cane brake. then the noise stopped as suddenly as it started, and bill was surprised to hear her light footsteps at his heels. "i want 'em to think we're hiding in there," she explained hurriedly. "can you run now?" "you bet!" they sped along the edge of the wood, spurred by the thought that the ruse would delay their pursuers and perhaps throw them off the trail altogether. from their rear came the sound of a rough voice issuing commands. men were beating the underbrush, cursing in the darkness. both dorothy and bill had got their second wind and were running much more easily now. then dorothy tripped on the uneven ground and would have fallen had not bill thrust out a steadying hand. "thanks," she said jerkily as she ran. "look over my shoulder. lights back there." "wonder they didn't use 'em before," was bill's only comment. dorothy slowed down to a fast walk and bill also slackened his pace. "we must be nearly there," she panted, "though since we had to drop the gasoline, there doesn't seem much use hiking over to the plane." bill nodded in the darkness. "think we'd better get back to the house?" "yes; they'll never see us, especially now that they've got their flashlights going--that glare will blind them. i vote we keep on along the valley until we pass the wood road, then swing across this pasture again and up the hill till we strike the road. that will take us back to the conway place and--" "look!" bill's exclamation arrested her, but his warning was unnecessary. far above, a sudden rift in the clouds brought a full moon into view. the woods, the open pasture and the steep hill down which they had traveled almost blindly a few minutes before were now bathed in clear, silvery light as bright as day. as they dashed forward again, a shout from behind told them they had been seen. "stop or we'll fire!" "there's the trail, bill--it's our only chance!" men were calling to each other behind them and she caught the sound of heavy feet pounding along in their wake. as she and bill turned into the wood road and sped down its winding stretches under the arch of intertwining boughs, a revolver cracked several times in quick succession. overhead, the bullets went screaming through the branches. "shooting high to scare us," wheezed bill. "'fraid we're running into a dead end." "maybe not--this moonlight won't last--clouds too heavy." dorothy wasted no more breath in speech. her every effort was centered in keeping up with the long legged young fellow who seemed to cover the ground so easily and at such an amazing rate of speed. presently they swept out of the wagon-trail and into the glaring moonlight of the woodlot. shouts and calls from their pursuers but a short distance behind now, lent wings to their feet. at the far end of the open space, dorothy's amphibian lay parked where she had left it. "not that way!" warned bill and caught her arm as she started to swing toward the airplane. "straight ahead!" there was no time for argument. dorothy swerved and dashed across the lot, following his lead. straight ahead lay a narrow belt of woods which ended abruptly in precipitous cliffs towering upward almost perpendicularly for several hundred feet to the top of the ridge. what bill's plan might be, she could not guess. those sheer palisades certainly could not be scaled. what could his objective be? if they turned up or down the valley the enemy would be sure to hear them tracking through the thick underbrush. and there would be no chance of outflanking the pursuit, for the men were between them and the conway house. she and bill were trapped at last--trapped by walls of rock and the encompassing passing ring of the enemy. they reached the farther edge of the field where a hurried glance behind showed them that the men were plunging out of the wood road. then the moon, perhaps ashamed of the trouble he had brought them, swam away behind another cloud formation, and once again the world was sunk in darkness. bill's fingers gripped her hand. "follow me. walk carefully and hold your arm before your face. it's a case of feel our way till we get used to the gloom--and there's no sense in losing an eye." he led onward through the wood and although dorothy could see nothing but an opaque blackness before her eyes, bill never hesitated in his stride. with his hand behind his back, he pulled her forward as though guided by an uncanny knowledge of invisible obstructions in their path. "how do you do it?" she marveled. "don't tell me you can actually see to dodge these branches and tree trunks?" she heard him chuckle. "not _see_--feel. i learned the trick in the florida swamps last summer. osceola, chief of the seminoles, taught me." "oh, yes! he's a wonder in the woods. how is it done?" "tell you sometime. here we are--at the stone hill river. you'll have to get your feet wetter, i'm afraid, but it's only a small stream, not deep. we turn right, here." "golly, it's cold!" dorothy splashed into the water behind him. "brrr--i know it. lift your feet high or you'll fall over these boulders. and please try to make as little noise as possible." from the direction of the woodlot came a prodigious crashing and threshing. the pursuit had gained the woods. "noise!" she said scornfully, floundering along in his wake. "those thugs can't hear me--they're making too much racket themselves. i suppose, bill, you're working on a plan, but what it can be is a mystery to me." "you mean--where we're bound for?" "yes. we can't get back to the big pasture and the hill up to stoker's house. they'll head off any play of that kind." "i know that. stand still a minute, i want to listen." "but bill--" "sh--yes, that must be it!" "must be what?" there was impatience in dorothy's tone. "the waterfall i was trying to find." "you don't mean to tell me you're planning to crawl behind a waterfall and hide! honestly, bill, i--" "oh, nothing like that," he answered coolly, "the fall isn't big enough." "look here, will you _please_--" "all right, calm yourself. we haven't much time but i guess they've lost our trail for the time being. on the way over here in the car, terry told me something of the lay of the land. he's crazy about hiking, you know, and mountain climbing. he's walked all over the reservation and he knows it like his own back yard." "yes, yes, what of it?" "well, terry told me that there is just one possible way to get out of this stony hill river valley on this side. that is, unless one goes a mile or two up or down the valley. there are entrances to the reservation at either end--dirt roads that cross from the concrete turnpike over to this ridge above us." "but there is a way out?" "yes. a sort of trail up the cliffs. it's not marked on the map of the reservation. terry found it last summer. pretty tough going even in daylight, i guess." "but how on earth can we find it in the dark?" "terry told me that a smaller stream flowed into this creek at just about this point, and that it drops into the river gully by way of a low waterfall. it was the sound of that fall i was listening for. hear it just over there to the right?" "what's the next move?" "we turn our backs on the waterfall, and cross this stream. the trail starts in a kind of open chimney in the foot of the cliffs. the map calls these young precipices raven rocks, by the way. if you think it is too dangerous, we can let those chaps catch us. they'll probably let us go soon enough. they're trailing the wrong party, though they haven't realized it. what do you say?" bill's tone was non-committal. "i know, they took you for stoker conway. but don't you see, bill--" her tone was firm, "they must not find out their mistake. while they're tracking us, they will leave the conway house alone, and that'll give terry and stoker a chance to hunt for the book and the letter." bill's reply was flippant, but there was a note of relief in his voice. "chance to get a good night's rest, you mean!" "they're not going to bed--" dorothy pulled her companion toward the opposite bank of the stream. "terry told me so." "thank goodness we're out of that," she exclaimed a moment later as they climbed the steep side of the gully. "if there's anything colder than a trout stream, i've yet to find it. i'm soaked nearly to my waist--how about you?" "ditto. we'll be warm enough presently--just as soon as we hit raven rocks." "wish we had raven's wings--we could use 'em!" "listen!" bill stopped suddenly in his tracks. "don't _say_ that," she whispered--"reminds me of old man lewis!" "they're coming this way. i guess they got tired of beating the woods for us. take my hand again. we've got to find that chimney." they went perhaps ten paces more when bill brought up short again. "here's the cliff--wait where you are--be back in a minute." he drew his fingers from her clasp and she heard him move off. standing in utter darkness she could hear the men splashing toward them along the shallow river bed, and still others tramping through the woods with flashing lights that moved nearer every second. not once did her alert mind question the advisability of trying to scale raven rocks on a coal-black night. not once did she waste a thought on the danger of that perilous enterprise. dorothy dixon never counted the cost when it was to help a friend. her entire attention was centered on their pursuers. who they were, or why they sought george and his letter were points of little consequence now. all that mattered was that they be kept on their search for as many hours as possible. presently they would come abreast and their lights would pick her out at the foot of the cliff. the sopping skirt of her frock sagged about her knees, dank and clammy beneath her slicker. she gathered it in her hands and squeezed what water she could from it, more for want of something to do than for any other reason. no longer could she hear bill stumbling about. what could have happened to him? the lights were only a dozen yards away now. in another minute or two their glare would pick her up for a certainty. for the first time that evening, dorothy became fidgety. bill had told her to remain here. that was an order, and must be obeyed. but--oh! if bill would only come! chapter viii the chimney then on her right she heard a soft rustling, immediately followed by a low call: "dorothy, where are you?" the words brought her joyous relief. "coming!" she replied in a cautious whisper, and with her left hand feeling the almost sheer wall, she hurried toward bill's voice. from the darkness he grasped her hand and spoke close to her ear. "i've located the chimney, dorothy." "good! i was getting worried. is it far away?" "no. only a few steps." "what kept you so long, bill?" "had to find the rope." "what rope?" they were moving now in the direction from which he had come. "the one terry hid in a niche of the rocks. talk of hunting needles in a--" "but do we need it?" "couldn't risk the climb without it. you've never done any mountain scaling--i have." "well, what's the dope?" they had stopped and bill took her arm. "here--let me knot this end around your waist. first, ditch the slicker, though. you won't be able to climb in that. i'll take care of it for the present." he took her coat and she felt him make the rope secure. "i'm tied to the other end," he told her. "but what'll you do about my slicker, bill? if we ever get to the top of the ridge, i'll need it." bill was busy and didn't answer for a moment. then--"your coat and mine are rolled up and lashed to my back," he explained. "i'm going first. i know more about this kind of thing than you, and my reach is longer. may have to pull you up the hard places. don't be afraid to put weight on the rope when i give the word. but if you slip--yell." he did not say that a slip on her part would in all probability pull him with her to crash on the rocky ground below. bill bolton did not believe in being an alarmist, but she understood just the same. "thanks, i'll do my best, bill." "start climbing." his voice came from above her head and she felt a jerk on the rope. "this chimney is a fissure in the cliff, and it slants slightly upward, thank goodness. reach above and get handholds on the rock projections first. then pull yourself up, until you find a foothold. when you put your weight on your feet, press your legs against the side walls. that will keep you from slipping. take it easy and rest as much as you like. this kind of thing can only be done slowly." "i'm coming," dorothy said quietly and she pressed her body into the niche she could not see. "that's the stuff! i'll rest while you climb. and while you're doing it, i'll keep the rope taut and out of your way." dorothy was silent. groping in the darkness above her head, her fingers came in contact with a rough projection. it was little more than a small knob in the rocky side of the chimney, but she managed to get a firm grip on it with her right hand. her left found another projection slightly lower on the other side. she exerted all her strength and slithered upward. drawing her knees up she sought rests for her feet on the sides, but the rock seemed absolutely smooth. for an instant she was at a loss. then remembering bill's advice, she pressed her legs against the chimney walls and pushed. that her body moved upward so easily came as a surprise. it was hard to realize that sheer walls would give such a purchase. almost at once her shoulders were above the hand holds and she could raise herself by pressing downward until her left knee was planted on the same projection that she had gripped with that hand. braced firmly against the rock, she looked for higher hand holds, found them and soon was able to get her left foot on to the place where her knee had been. with her weight on that foot, it became a simple matter to plant her right in the opposite niche. straightening her body, she lay forward against the slanting cliff and rested. "go ahead, bill," she called in a low voice as soon as she could speak. "o.k., kid," came the prompt reply from overhead. "on my way." pressed against the wet rockface she could hear the scrape of his boots and the heavy breathing of muscular strain. her own thin soled shoes were sodden from the wet of the woods and pasture. worse still, the leather was bursting at the sides. and this climb would probably complete their ruin. by the time she reached the top, they would be beyond walking in at all. never again would she board her plane shod in pumps. "come along!" bill interrupted her soliloquy, and using the same tactics as before she continued to climb. the first drops of rain she had felt at the bottom of the cliff now increased to a steady downpour. dorothy became soaked to the skin. water from her leather helmet ran down her forehead, forcing her to keep her eyes closed most of the time. the cliff, wet and slippery from the preceding storm, was soon slick as a greased slide. twice she lost her foothold and would have fallen had not her sharp cry warned bill in time. how he managed to stick to his precarious perch and bear her weight on the rope until she found a grip on the rock again was more than she could fathom. each time she slipped her heart almost stopped beating. and the horrible emptiness at the pit of her stomach made her feel deathly ill. but she never wholly lost her nerve. climbing, then resting, she kept steadily on. but her strenuous exertions and the almost continuous strain on muscles ordinarily little used was wearing down her vitality. would this terrible climbing in the dark never end, she thought. her whole body ached, her arms and legs felt heavy as lead. wearily she raised her right hand seeking another hold. when she felt bill's fingers grasp her own, she started. the shock very nearly caused her to lose balance. "now your other paw," said his well-known voice somewhere above in the gloom. "that's the way--up you come." then before she really understood what was happening, dorothy was dragged higher until she was seated beside bill on a narrow ledge. his right arm held her tightly. he was puffing like a grampus. she wriggled and wiped the water and perspiration from her eyes with a wet, clammy hand. "sit tight--old girl," bill's words came in little jerks. "i know you're used to altitudes in a plane, but this is different. i guess you'll get a shock when you look below, so--steady." dorothy opened her eyes and was glad of his supporting arm. far below, at the foot of the cliff, pinpoints of light moved hither and yon, puncturing the darkness. "they know we're somewhere up here," he said softly. "heard you when you slipped, i dare say. well, we'll take some finding--and that's no lie," he chuckled. "why--i--i--had no idea we'd come so far," she stammered. "those lights look miles away." "three or four hundred feet, that's all." "funny--it makes me almost dizzy to look down there. you're right--it is different from flying altitude. bill, do you think they'll find the chimney?" "maybe. but they're not likely to try to use it--not tonight, anyway." "why not? we did it." "we were sure of a way up--they aren't. and i don't imagine they bargained for any blind climb up cliffs like these in the rain and darkness. they wouldn't mind slugging one of us with a sand bag, but when it comes to real danger, they'd count themselves out." "gee," dorothy giggled nervously. "i wish i'd been able to!" "count yourself out? well, i don't blame you, kid. nerve-wracking isn't the name for it. but you certainly stood up well. do you feel able to go on now?" "yes, i suppose so." her reply was rather weak. "then we'd better get under way. terry said the chimney was the worst of it and we are through with that now. it ends at this ledge." he helped her to her feet. "brrr--that wind is cold on wet clothes. if we don't get moving, we'll cop a dose of pneumonia, sure as shooting!" "you're a nice, thoughtful fella, bill," dorothy smiled grimly in his direction. "trouble is your thoughtfulness is oddly strenuous at times. is there much farther to go?" "we're more than half way," he assured her, "and from now on you'll get more walking than climbing." dorothy wanted to laugh but was too tired to do so. "lead on, macduffer," she cried gamely. "i'm lame, halt and blind, but i'll do my best to follow my chief!" "atta girl," he commended. "give us your paw again, we can travel better that way." "we'll travel, all right--that is, unless our friend terry is a dyed-in-the-wool fabricator." "hopefully not, as they say in the fatherland," he chuckled. he caught her hand in his and they started on a climb up the steep hill that ran back from the ledge. as bill had predicted, the going here was not nearly so difficult as it had been in the chimney. so far as dorothy could tell, the cliffs, which were covered with a grass-grown rubble, sloped in at this point, and at a much easier angle of ascent. whereas the chimney was almost perpendicular, here, by bending forward and aiding progress with occasional handholds on bushes and rocky outcroppings, it was possible to do more than merely creep forward. a slip, of course, would be dangerous. it would be hard to stop rolling, once started down the incline; and unless a bush or a boulder were conveniently in the way, a bound over the ledge would be inevitable--and then oblivion. she did not like to think about it. bill guided her up the incline and did so with uncanny accuracy, considering the darkness, and the fact that he had not travelled this trail before. she came to the conclusion that the worst was over, when he stopped abruptly. "sit down and take it easy," he advised. "this is where i've got to see what we're doing." "surely you're not going to show a light?" she asked in alarm, and sank down on the rocky ground. "have to," was his quick reply. "those guys below us know we're up here, so what does it matter?" "but i thought we were almost at the top." "almost, but not quite. look at that!" a beam of light shot upward from his torch, and turning her head, she saw a sight that sent her heart down to the very tips of her ragged, soaking pumps. they had indeed come to the top; but merely to the top of this steep hillside of bushes and rubble. where this ended, a few feet away, the naked rock towered almost perpendicular. forty feet or more from its base this wall jutted sharply outward, half that distance again. she sprang to her feet, an exclamation of dismay on her lips. this rock canopy above their heads, this absolutely unscalable barrier to their hopes extended in both directions so far as the eye could see. bill, who had moved several feet downhill, was flashing his light back and forth along the rugged edge of this roof of rock beneath which she stood. "how far does it go?" she asked in a small voice. "according to terry," he replied, "right to where the cliffs end--both ways--and without a break or a tunnel. but you can't walk along underneath very far, because this slant we are on is only forty or fifty yards wide. beyond it in either direction there's a sheer drop." "then--we're out of luck." her tone was entirely hopeless. bill laughed shortly. "where terry got down, we can get up--but it's not going to be easy--and that's sure fire!" chapter ix over the top "well! if you know the way out, why don't you say so?" dorothy flared in exasperation. "what?" returned bill vaguely. he was walking across the side of the hill, keeping beneath the end of the rocky overhang forty feet above his head. the light from his electric torch swept along the edge of this seemingly unsurmountable obstruction. then it darted out and upward as if to pierce the dripping night above. "did you speak?" he amended, looking back at her. "thought i heard you say something, but couldn't quite catch it." his voice was as sincere as the words he had just uttered, but dorothy's reply was caustic. "i said why keep the secret to yourself? all this stuff about how terry got down and we are supposed to get up is keeping me on pins and needles. if terry left a rope ladder or something hanging over the edge last summer, it must be gone by now." "no, he didn't use a rope ladder--" "well, it looks to me as if we'd have to fly up if we ever want to get to the top of this ridge! i don't know whether you're _trying_ to tantalize me--but you're succeeding, all right. for goodness' sake, bill, if you know the answer, tell me." "i'm sorry, dorothy," he called repentantly. he ran up the incline toward her. "i didn't mean to leave you in the soup--i ought to have realized--look, i'm awfully sorry," he repeated in sincere contrition. "oh, that's all right, bill." she was embarrassed now. "i had no business to get so shirty." under the light of the torch, their eyes met in a smile of friendly understanding. "but please tell me what it is you're trying to find?" "why, the tree--i honestly thought i'd told you about it before." "what tree?" she asked patiently. "the one that terry used to get down here. it's our only hope." "but i don't see any tree. if there is one, how is it going to help us?" bill took her hand and gave it a little pat. "come over here with me," he said, and led the way toward the spot where he had been standing. "but bill--there's no tree up there--" "wait until i get the light on it. there you are!" and there was a tree, after all. but instead of pointing toward the heavens like any other tree she had ever seen, this colorado spruce grew sideways out from the top of the cliff. with the exception of a few tufts on the top, its branches grew only on the upper side of the horizontal trunk, giving it more the appearance of a ragged hedge than an honest-to-goodness tree. "i get you," she said slowly. "the tree--and the rope." "aha! young lady, you're not so dumb as you'd sometimes like people to think!" "but is the rope long enough?" "hope so. terry claimed he used it double." "yes?" she said doubtfully. "but will the tree hold us both? you've been a sailor, but i don't think i'm up to climbing a swinging rope, hand over hand after coming up that chimney." she thought for a moment, then went on. "there's only one way i can get up there. you'll have to tie one end of the rope to a stone and sling it over the trunk. when that end drops, we can take out the stone, i'll stick my foot in the loop and--" "bill bolton pulls you up," he ended for her. "that listens well, dorothy, and if the rope was running through a pulley up there, everything would be hunky-dory. as it is, she'll be chafing against a hard, uneven surface. i'd probably pull the tree down, even if i was able to get you off the ground." "but my arms feel dead--right up to my shoulders." "i know, kid. but you can do it, after i fix the rope and you have lashed your end to this big bush here. it's going to be a case of shin for you, not hand over hand climb. although that's not so hard when you know how. like most things, there's a knack to it." "all right. i'll do my best." "you'll make it," he assured her. "if you'll untie that end of the rope from around your waist, i'll hunt up a rock and we'll get busy." presently a heavy stone was fastened to the rope end. "stand clear," sang out bill. then as she stepped back, he swung the stone round and round in a vertical circle, much as a seaman heaves the lead for a sounding. up went the stone and the rope, and dorothy watched with bated breath while she pointed the torch for guidance. she saw it swing over the tree trunk and drop to earth on the farther side. "snappy work, bill," she applauded. "who goes first? you or me?" "this is a case where gentlemen take precedence. i'll go first--and show you a little trick they teach midshipmen at annapolis." he untied the knot which held the stone and bringing the ends together pulled the rope until the lengths on both sides of the trunk were even. "so long," he breezed, "see you anon!" with a hand on either rope he swung himself upward, seemingly without effort. it was as though he were lifting a penny-weight rather than one hundred and seventy-five pounds of solid american bone and muscle. then with a quick movement he twisted the slack ends about his thighs, and the girl was amazed to see him let go both hands and wave. "it's a way we have in the navy," he laughed. "quite a comfortable seat--if you know how. skirts are rather in the way, so i don't advise you to try it. although i must say in parting that you have already parted with the greater part of your skirt." dorothy giggled. "what of it? there's a perfectly good pair of bloomers underneath." she was amused by his fooling, though she suspected he was trying to put heart into her. bill coughed. "finicky persons of british extraction might claim that your last statement was a decided bloomer itself--but i digress--" he went on, in the manner of a barker at a side show. "laydees and gen-tel-men--i wish to state that william bolton, late tiddledywinks champion of the nutmeg state, is about to give his famous impersonation of a monkey on a stick!" his hands grasped the ropes above his head. up came his body, the turns about his thighs providing an apparently comfortable seat or purchase, while his hands shot upward again. the speed with which he went through these movements was remarkable, the swiftness of his passage up the ropes only comparable to an east indian running up a cocoanut palm. before dorothy could believe her eyes, he was sitting astride the tree trunk, hauling up the rope. "that was marvelous!" she called up to him. "some day you'll have to show me how you do it." "o.k.!" she saw now that one end of the rope was coming slowly down again. as it sank nearer, her torch brought to view the fact that it was knotted every few feet. soon she was able to catch the swinging end. "make it fast to that bush," he commanded. she did as she was told and turned to him for further orders. bill pulled the rope taut, then lashed his end about the trunk close to the point where the tree jutted out from the rock. that done he slashed the loose half free with his knife just above the knot. "that gives us a hauling line," she heard him say. "i'll hang on to this end--you knot the other about your waist." she caught the end that he threw down and after fastening it securely about her, peered up at him again. "all right for me to shin up?" she asked, with a hand on the knotted rope that was to act as her ladder to the dizzy height above. "wait till i get back on terra firma--this tree won't stand our combined weights." perhaps a minute elapsed. then she heard his voice again, though she could no longer see him. "come ahead!" he directed. "sing out when you start and let me know if i pull too hard." dorothy switched off the light and slipped the torch down the back of her frock where it was caught in the blouse made by the line about her waist. "ready!" she called and grasping the taut rope, she started to shin up. almost immediately she was helped on her way by a steady pull on the line bill was holding. the going was difficult but the knots held her and kept her from slipping. notwithstanding aching arm and leg muscles, it was surprising how easily she was able to hoist herself upward with the added pull from above. the actual distance to be climbed was not so great, but it seemed unbelievably soon when her hands touched the tree trunk. bill called a warning. "get a good purchase around the rope with your legs, then lift your arms--take hold of the branches on top of the trunk and heave!" she felt a stronger pull on the rope; her hands grasped two upright branches and she was dragged upward and on to the tree. bill caught her under her arms and swung her on to the rock. then he picked her up bodily and carried her back a few yards from the edge of the chasm. "hurray! we're up!" he gasped and let her down on solid ground. dorothy did not reply. for a moment speech was beyond her. she sank down on a boulder. after a little while she untied the rope that belted her and producing the electric torch, handed it to bill. "snap on the light, will you?--while i take stock of the damage. i know i'm a wreck, but it's just as well to learn the worst at once." "rather rumpled," he pronounced as he complied with her request. "good night! you've only got one shoe!" "lost the other coming up the rope. this one is no good either. what's left of it is just a mass of soaking pulp." then she laughed softly as she brushed some spruce needles from her knees and picked a malicious little bit of flint from the palm of one hand. her wet skirt was in ribbons. she saw that her stockings were a mass of ladders now, and she had a suspicion that her knickers were torn. but what did such trifles matter when one was bent upon a great achievement? "pretty bad," she admitted and stood up on one foot. "hand me my slicker, please. this rig is beyond repair--that will keep some of the wind out. gee, it's chilly!" "and wet," he added grimly, as he helped her into the coat. "sorry to have to remind you, dorothy, but we've got to be on our way, again." "i don't think i can go any further, bill." he knew this to be a candid statement of fact, not a complaint. "but we must, dorothy. they are coming after us, you know." "not up this cliff! unless, you mean--" her voice was troubled, "the rope! could you slide down ours and untie that from the bushes, then shin up again?" "i could, but it isn't necessary. they aren't coming that way." "is there another way?" "yes, for them. by the road across the valley and around by either of the entrances to the reservation." "why are you so sure?" "because while i was out on the tree trunk, i saw lights going up the hill. then a car which evidently had been parked down the road from stoker's house, started off toward the boutonville entrance. which means, of course, that they'll motor in on the boutonville road. that crosses the reservation. then all they've got to do is to leave the car at the mouth of the fire tower trail and hike down here along the top of the cliffs. they've cut off any retreat down the cliffs on our part, too. those birds intend to catch us--or rather, they want to get hold of stoker pretty badly. they've left men down in the valley, i saw their lights." "well, it will take them some time to walk over here from the boutonville road," dorothy said wearily. "i'm going to sleep. i've got to." "you can't--not in this rain. and you're soaked through into the bargain." bill's tone was firm. "wait a minute--i've got an idea." dorothy, who was half dozing with her back to the boulder, opened her eyes with an effort. she saw him draw forth a paper from his pocket, unfold it and study it with the aid of the lighted torch. "this is a map of poundridge reservation," he explained. "here's a trail that leads back from raven rocks to the spy rock trail. this end of it must be about a hundred yards along the cliffs to our left, if i've got my bearings right. listen, dorothy! these two trails meet about a mile and a half from here--and close by is a cabin. it's marked shelter no. on the map. once in there we'll be under cover. these shelters are rented to campers during the summer, you know. there's sure to be a fireplace. i'll find the dry wood and we can dry out and get warm." dorothy yawned and shut her eyes again. "no use, bill. i hate to be a short sport--but i'm just all in. chances are we'd find the cabin locked when we got there." bill put the map back in his pocket. "i don't blame you," was what he said. "i'm used to roughing it and i don't feel any too scrumptious myself. but we've got to do something. the gang will be here in less than an hour. but i must admit that i don't see how you're going to walk a mile and a half with only one shoe." he looked down at dorothy. she was fast asleep. chapter x ol' man river "poor kid! she certainly is all in," bill muttered in a tone that was close to despair. what on earth was he going to do now? the wind had stiffened and heavy rain slanted out of the east in an unremitting deluge. both of them were soaked to the skin under their slickers. despite his vigorous cliff-climbing, bill was chilled to that dorothy, huddled against the boulder, was shivering in her sleep. he himself was weary and heavy-eyed. his vitality was at low ebb. but with a sudden exertion of latent will power he got painfully to his feet. he bent over the sleeping girl and taking her by the shoulders shook her back and forth. "wake up, dorothy!" he called. "wake up!" deep in oblivion, she made no answer. bill shook her harder. "leave me 'lone," she murmured drowsily. "want sleep--go 'way!" putting forth his full strength, bill lifted her until she stood leaning against him still sound asleep. bringing her arms up and over his shoulders, he pivoted in a half circle. now that his back was toward her, he bent forward, and catching her legs, drew them over his thighs. dorothy, still oblivious to all that went on, was hoisted up into the position called by small children, "riding piggy-back." though slender, she was well-built and muscular, and he was surprised at her dead weight. with his forearms beneath her knees, clutching the lighted torch with one hand, he moved slowly off with her in the direction of the raven rock trail. after some little trouble he found it, a narrow swath cutting back through the forest at right angles to the top of the cliffs. without hesitation he began to follow the path. overhead the twisted branches met in a natural arch. it seemed even darker below their dripping foliage than in the open on the cliffs, and the feeble ray from his flash light penetrated but a few feet into the yawning black ahead. it was heavy going with dorothy's solid weight on his back. the uneven ground, sodden with rain, was slippery where his feet did not sink in the muddy loam. and at times he was near to falling with his burden. the trail followed a snakelike course. for a time it wound over comparatively level ground, then dipped steeply into a hollow. the girl was becoming heavier by the minute. bill stuck it out until they topped the opposite rise, then let her down. dorothy awoke with a start. "what are you doing?" she cried. "where am i?" "so far as i can make out, we're about half a mile down the raven rock trail," he said slowly. "and--and you carried me all this way?" "piggyback," he replied laconically. "why, bill! you must be nearly dead--" "well, there have been times when i've felt more peppy--" "how could you, bill? why didn't you wake me up?" "tried to--but it just wasn't any use. you couldn't have walked it, anyway--with only one shoe." "oh, yes, i could. but you were sweet to do it, only--" "better climb aboard again," he suggested, ignoring her praise, "we've got all of a mile to go before we get to the cabin." dorothy made a gesture of dissent. "thanks, old dear. i'm going to walk." "well, if you feel up to it--you take my shoes--i'll get along fine without them in this mud." "i'll do nothing of the kind. i've got a better plan. stupid of me not to think of it before. hand over your knife, please." dorothy cut two long strips, six or seven inches wide, from the bottom of her slicker. "i'm going to use these to bind up my feet," she explained and handed back the knife. "wait a minute!" bill seized his own raincoat and cut two wider strips, which he folded into pads. "sit down on that stump, and hold up your hoof," he ordered. "i'll show you how it's done." dorothy hopped to the stump and after seating herself, kicked off her remaining shoe. "there goes the end of a perfect pump," she chuckled. "think i'll keep it for luck," declared bill. she raised her eyebrows and laughed. "some girls might think you were becoming sentimental--you, of all people!" "well?" "well, i know it's only because you were born practical. you want that shoe so as to prevent anyone else from finding it, the men who are chasing us, for instance?" "i never argue with members of the opposite sex--that's why i still enjoy good health." he grinned and pocketed the shoe. "hold up your foot, young lady. it's a lovely night and all that, but we're going to get out of it as soon as possible." he placed one of the folded pads beneath the sole of her foot and wound a strip of slicker about it and the foot bringing the ends together in a knot about her ankle. "now the other," he prompted, and dealt with it in the same way. dorothy stood up and took a trial step or two. "wonderful!" she said. "i could walk to new york in these. they're a lot more comfortable than the shoes i ordinarily wear." "we'll have to patent the idea." "that reminds me, bill," dorothy spoke slowly. they were moving along the trail again. "do you think the letter mr. conway is supposed to have written stoker could possibly have had anything to do with patents?" "what patents?" "oh, i don't know exactly--patents belonging to mr. conway." "you mean--which he left to stoker?" "why, yes. mr. conway was an inventor. he must have patented things." "very probably. but stoker told us that his father's entire estate amounted to the place he's living in and a few thousand dollars. if mr. conway still owned patent rights on his inventions, why weren't they mentioned in the will?" "you think, then, that he sold them before his death?" "looks that way," summed up bill. "anyway, if there were patents, they'd be registered in washington. it wouldn't do anyone any good to steal them." dorothy tramped along beside him. except for the sound of their footsteps squishing in the muddy path and the drip of the rain from wet leaves and branches, the woods were very still. "what can those people be after if it isn't the patents on mr. conway's inventions?" she said in a puzzled tone, after a pause. "search me--what ever it is, the thing must be very valuable. they'd never take all this trouble otherwise." "give us all this trouble, you mean. and here's another riddle, bill. why was hilltop sold?" bill threw her a glance and shrugged. "ask me something real hard," he suggested, "you're the sherlock holmes of this case. i'm only a mighty dumb doctor watson. and i'm no good at problems in deduction, even when my thinkbox is moting properly--which it isn't at present." "but there must have been some good reason for the sale of that property," she persisted. "when stoker went back to lawrenceville after the easter holidays last spring, everything at home was going on just as usual--a big place, servants, cars, horses, plenty of money--everything. then he came back from school in june, and all that everything just wasn't!" "and father had moved into that dump on the stone hill river road with a part-time maid-of-all-work, and that flivver.... deucedly clear and all that! by the way, do they teach english or just plain connecticut yankee at the new canaan high? your use of words at times is more forceful than grammatic." "grammatical for choice. you're not so hot on the oratory yourself, bill. people who live in glass houses, you know--?" "wish we were in one," was his reply. "anything with a fire and a roof that sheds water would suit me just now!" "what are you trying to do, bill, evade my question?" dorothy's nap had done her good. though still weary and stiff, she felt tantalizingly argumentative for all that she was wringing wet and horribly chilly. talking helped to keep up her spirits. just ahead their torch revealed a branching of the path. "the map says we keep to the right," announced bill. "it's only a step over to the spy rock trail now." "glad to hear it--but it seems to me you _are_ trying to evade my questions!" "questions?" he chuckled. "they come too fast and furious. and to be honest, how can you expect me to guess the right answers when you don't know them yourself? you certainly are the one and only human interrogation point tonight." "and you're so helpful," she retorted. "this is the most mysterious affair i've ever been mixed up in." "here we are at the other trail, praise be to allah." "turn to the right?" she asked. "that's it. in about a hundred yards we ought to run on to a path leading off to the left. that leads to shelter no. . the cabin's quite near now, if this map in my pocket's any good." they trudged along the trail and a couple of minutes later in the dim glow from the flash they saw an opening in the trees. "come on," he said, quickening his pace. "we'll be under cover in a jiffy." "we'll probably have to break in." dorothy caught up with him as the path swung round in a quarter circle to the left. "no, we won't," he replied, catching her arm and coming to a halt. at the same time he shut off the electric torch. straight ahead in the darkness they could make out the blur of a small building. through a chink in what they took to be a closed shutter came a thin ray of light. "somebody's got there ahead of us," bill observed more to himself than to dorothy. "what are we going to do?" "do? what can we do but knock them up and ask for shelter?" "i guess you're right," she admitted. "neither of us can go on until we've had rest and a drying out." "that's how i look at it." "we've got to go easy, though. remember what i trotted into with betty at stoker's house?" "where do you get this 'we' stuff?" he said rather gruffly. "here, take this gun and get behind a tree. i'm going over there. if they get nasty when they open up, i'll sidestep--and you can use your own judgment." "i'll use it right now, bill. i'm going to the house with you. don't argue--" she started on along the path. bill caught up with her. "take the automatic, anyway," he shoved the gun into her hand. "shoot through your pocket if you have to. better keep it out of sight. stand to one side just out of the line of light when they open. all set?" "go ahead." dorothy's right hand gripped the revolver in her pocket. she slipped off the safety catch, pointed her forefinger along the snubnosed barrel and let her middle finger rest lightly on the trigger. rat-tat-tat--rat-tat-tat. bill's fist pounded the cabin door. there came a pause. she felt the quickened beats of her heart. rain pounding on the gutterless roof dripped in a steady trickle on her bare head and down her neck. from somewhere nearby came the mournful cry of a hoot owl. bill knocked again. within the little house they heard the sound of footsteps. dorothy stiffened. the bolts of the door were withdrawn, the door opened and dorothy stepped up beside bill. framed in the lighted rectangle was an ancient, white haired negro. he peered out at them from beneath the cotton-tufts of his eyebrows, blinded for the moment by the night. "good evening, uncle. can we come in out of the wet for a little while?" bill's tone held the gentle camaraderie of those brought up by darky servants in the south. "lordy, lordy--white folks, an' drippin' wet!" exclaimed the old fellow, straightening his bent back and smiling pleasantly. "walk right in, capt'in--and you, too, missy. ol' man river ain't got quarters like you is prob'ly useter--but it's dry and it's warm, an' yo-all's sho' is welcome!" chapter xi mr. john j. joyce "thank you, uncle," said bill and motioning dorothy to go first, he stepped across the threshold. the old darky slammed the door shut behind them blotting out the storm, and sent the bolt home. "yo'all go over ter the fire an' drip," he beamed, pointing to the blazing logs in the fireplace of native stone. "lordy, lordy, you chillen is sho' 'nuf half drown'. but we's gwine ter fix dat sho' nuf in a jiffy." while the two warmed their hands at the hearth, he bustled off towards the rear of the cabin and disappeared through a doorway that led into another room. dorothy looked at bill and smiled delightedly. the cabin was primitive though there was a cozy and homelike air about it. the chinks between the bark of the logs which formed the walls were stuffed with dry moss and clay. there was no ceiling to the room. one looked up through the cross beams clear to the gable of the slanting roof. from these sturdy four-by-fours hung half a ham, several bunches of onions, a pair of rubber boots and other oddments. wide boards had been laid across them in a couple of places, evidently to provide holdalls for other paraphernalia. the small room's principal article of furniture was a rustic, handmade table. three stools without backs and an armchair of like manufacture completed the furnishings if one did not count several shining pots and pans that hung on nails driven into the logs and a huge pile of kindling that took up an entire corner. a steaming kettle hung from a crane over the fire and the floor of the room flaunted a large mat woven of brightly colored grasses. "he keeps everything as neat as a new pin," dorothy whispered. "isn't he perfectly sweet?" "wonder how he happens to be here," said bill. "this shelter is state property." "shush--he's coming." the old darky ambled into the room again, grinning from ear to ear. ol' man river, as he called himself, quite evidently enjoyed bestowing hospitality. over one arm he carried a bundle of clothes. "ise mighty thankful dat yo'all come 'long dis evenin'," he exclaimed. "it sho' do get mighty lonesome up in dese hyar woods--speshally on a black night when de rain come an' de wind howl roun' dis cabin. i brought you all some clo's. 'twant much i could find, jes' overalls and shirts, like what ise got on. but dey is dry and dey is as clean an' sweet as soap and rainwater can make 'em." dorothy took the faded blue flannel shirt and overalls he held out to her. "thank you, uncle. you certainly are kind and thoughtful, but it's a shame to use your clean clothes this way." the old man's grin grew wider, his even white teeth gleamed in the wrinkled black of his kindly face. "don' you menshun it, missy. dese clo's ain't nuffin. dey ain't no tellin' what's gwine ter happen ef you don' hop inter de back room an' take off yo' wet things. while yo' gone, de young genneman can change. an' ol' man river, he's gwine ter dish up supper. now, missy, run away or yo'll sho' catch yo' death in dose wet things." dorothy hurried into the back room and closed the door. on a little table she saw an old fashioned oil lamp with a glass base and an unshaded chimney, which cast a cheerful glow of light over a home-made bed which filled one side of the cubicle. as she sat down, she found that instead of a mattress, the bed boasted fir and hemlock boughs, scented and springy to the touch. several khaki-colored army blankets were neatly rolled at the foot of the bed. a row of hooks behind the door and rudely fashioned shelves which extended the breadth of the partition between the two rooms, completed the appointments of ol' man river's bedroom. dorothy saw that the partition did not rise clear to the peak of the roof, but ended at the crossbeams. the sound of bill's voice and the old darky's came over the top, and a most appetizing odor of coffee and frying ham. it was just then that dorothy realized how famished she was. a glance at her wristwatch showed that it was a quarter past midnight. she continued to strip off her wet clothes and the wrappings from her feet. picking up a couple of flour sacks from the stool by the shuttered window, she gave herself a thorough rub down. the home-made towels had been washed until they were soft as linen, and they sent a pleasant glow of returning circulation throughout her tired body. warm and dry once more, she donned the overalls and shirt and drew on a heavy pair of gray wool socks. though the overalls needed turning up and the shirt was too long in the sleeves and more than a trifle wide across her shoulders, it was on the whole a warm and comfortable outfit. she rubbed her short, curly hair dry, then combed it into place before the cracked mirror which stood on the wall shelf. a deft application of powder and rouge from her ever-present compact completed her simple toilet. there came a knock on the door and bill's voice told her that supper was ready. "coming!" she called. picking up the sodden heap of clothes from the floor, she blew out the light, opened the door and marched into the other room. "transformation!" bill saluted her gaily. "how about it, uncle abe? you'd never take her for the same person, would you?" the old man, who was bending over the hearth, turned his head toward her and smiled. "roses," he said, "roses in june!" dorothy laughed outright. "thanks for the compliment, uncle abe, but i'm afraid these roses came out of a compact." she hung her wet clothes over a chair, near to bill's. "den i should'a said, fresh as a rose," the old darky chuckled. "and not half as dewey as when you let us in," added bill. "by the way, dorothy, let me introduce our host, uncle abe lincoln river--known to the world at large as ol' man river, but to his friends he's uncle abe. and the young lady who is parading around in your clothes, uncle, is miss dorothy dixon of new canaan, known to many people as i-will-not-be-called-dot! she looks kind and gentle, but if you value your life, never take her on in a wrestling bout. she's sandow, the terrible greek and the emperor of japan all in one." dorothy waved him aside. "get out of my way, slanderer!" she cried. "i want to shake hands with uncle abe. dry clothes seem to have gone to his head, uncle." the aged negro stood up and took her outstretched hand between his horny palms. "why, i'se read about yo'all when i worked fo' misteh joyce, missy. dey uster let me hab de papers after de folks up dar ter de big house done finished wid 'em. airplanes, robbers, ebbryt'ing!" ol' man river shook his head. "sho' wuz tuk back some ter see what ladies kin do dese days, ma'am!" "well, then you must have read about mr. bolton, here, too? bill bolton, the flyer--?" "dat's so, ma'am. i done heard tell o' dis genneman, too!" he turned his rolling eyes in unfeigned admiration upon bill. bill glared at dorothy. "oho! so you put the spotlight on me, do you?" he cried in pretended anger. but ol' man river motioned toward the table which was set with tin cups and plates and a very much battered metal coffee pot. "supper's ready, missy. i'se sorry i ain't got a cloth. 'p'raps yo'all won't mind dis time. now if yo' an' marse' bill will tak' yo' chairs, i'll serve it up quicker dan whistlin'." "but you've only set two places," protested dorothy. uncle abe wagged his woolly pate. "it ain't right fo' an' ol' niggeh ter sit down wid de quality, missy." "stuff and nonsense! put another cup and plate on the table, bill, and another knife, fork and spoon. uncle abe's going to eat with us, or i won't touch a thing--and believe me, this food looks tempting!" "well, if yo' puts it thataway, ma'am, i will take a bite." uncle abe gave a mellow chuckle. "i sho' duz love ham. de smell of it in de pan fair do make my mouf water!" dorothy took up the hot skillet from the hearth. "i'll put the ham on the plates, uncle abe, if you'll bring over that pan of hot bread you've got warming in the ashes." "not hot bread, dorothy," corrected bill, "--corn pone--real honest-to-goodness corn pone!" "mmmm--" she exclaimed with eyes dancing, "hurry up, uncle abe, i just can't wait!" "dey ain't no butter," explained uncle abe, "but if yo'all puts some o' dis ham gravy over it, i reckon yo'll fin' yo' kin eat it." "ho, that's the best way to eat it!" cried bill. "used to have it that way when i lived at annapolis. if there's anything that tastes better, i've yet to find it. and look, dorothy, we've got molasses to sweeten our coffee! uncle abe sure does set a real southern table." the old man chuckled happily as they sat down to the meal. "marse johnson done give me dat 'lasses," he said as he filled the coffee cups from the battered pot. "he de big boss o' de reservation. i don't mind tellin' yo'all, ma'am, if marse johnson didn't wink at ol' man river a-livin' in dis hyar cabin, dis niggeh sho' would be in a bad way. but dese reservation folks is no white trash. dey knowed 'bout marse joyce turnin' me loose after i'd worked fo' him all dese years. i did odd jobs for 'em dis summer, an' a while back, marse johnson, he 'lowed i could have de cabin, now it's gettin' kinda chilly fo' de ol' man to sleep in de barn." "that was pretty decent of him," remarked bill, with his mouth full of fried ham and hot corn pone. "but who is this mr. joyce you speak of, uncle?" ol' man river wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "dat man's name ez john j. joyce, marse billy. he's got dat big place on de ridge over yonder nexter hilltop, marse conway's ol' home. i worked fo' marse joyce fo' 'bout ten years--eveh sence i come up no'th from virginny where dis ol' niggeh was raised." "and he let you go after you'd worked for him all that time?" cried dorothy, setting down her coffee cup. "i call that rotten mean!" "yaas, ma'am--john j. joyce is sho' a hard man. i wuz one o' de gard'ners on de' 'state. one noon he calls us all up ter de big house. 'men,' he say, standin' on de gall'ry steps, 'times is hard an' they's gwine ter be harder. i'se got ter do my bit fer dis 'ere depresshun like eve'y one else. dat is why i'se a-cuttin' you down from six ter three. de three what am de oldest can clear out. dey ain't wu'th as much ter me.'" "the dirty dog!" bill's face was hot with anger. "i should say so!" dorothy's tone matched bill's in vehemence. uncle abe shook his head. "de good book say, 'him what has, gits, and him what ain't got nuffin' gits dat nuffin' tuk'n away'," he remarked a bit sadly. "but dis hyar niggeh ain't got no complaint, ma'am. ol' man river has sho' got a warm cabin. he ken trap brer rabbit in de woods, and 'times he gits brer possum. marse johnson pays fer a spell o' work once in a while and dat pays foh things he haster buy over to de store. i kinder git de idee, missy, dat dis hyar ol' man is livin' on de top o' de worl'." "well, maybe," answered dorothy, "but i call it doggone mean, just the same. tell me, uncle, outside of being mean and heartless, what sort of man is this john j. joyce?" "waal, you see'd how he done me, missy. jes' git up an' go--didn't say he wuz sorry or nuffin'. he's rich and he's sharp. maybe he's honest, i don't know, but i'se allus thought as how marse conway 'ud done better if he'd er hoed his own 'taters. but i reckon dis niggeh hadn't oughter be crit'sizin' de quality." "quality, nothing!" exploded bill. "mr. conway was all right--at least, george is--but the other fellow is the worst kind of a polecat!" "den yo'all knows marse george?" "yes, uncle, he's a friend of ours," said dorothy. "and he is right up to his neck in trouble just now. anything you can tell us about his father will be a big help." uncle abe pushed his plate away and leaned his elbows on the table. "dey ain't much i kin tell," he announced, "but i'se knowed marse george since he wuz a l'il boy. he wuz allus nice an' friendly with uncle abe." "you say that his father and mr. joyce were friends--that they had dealings of some sort together?" dorothy inquired. "yaas, ma'am. dey wuz pardners in bizness, i reckon. leastways, like you said, dey had dealings togedder." "but if joyce was in business with mr. conway, why didn't stoker mention that?" asked bill of dorothy. "perhaps he didn't know about it, bill. he was away at school, remember, most of the time. and he told us that his father never spoke of his affairs or encouraged him to ask questions." "but it doesn't sound reasonable, dorothy. a fellow must know the name of his father's firm." "that's true, in a way. but maybe there was no firm--of joyce and conway? isn't it possible that mr. joyce may have acted as mr. conway's agent--sold the inventions for him, perhaps? mr. conway was not a business man. he was always too occupied in his laboratory or in his workshop." "dat am de way it wuz, missy," broke in the old darky eagerly. "'times, de gennemen 'ud walk in de garden an' talk while dis hyar niggeh done his weedin' or plantin' or wotnot--neveh done pay 'tenshun ter ol' man river. he don't count fer nuffin' atall. marse conway done make his 'ventions--marse joyce done what he call 'put 'em on de market.' is dat what yo'all wanter know, ma'am?" "yes, thank you, uncle. i believe i'm beginning to see light at last." "blest if i do," commented bill. "joyce couldn't try to steal patents registered in mr. conway's name, could he?" dorothy smiled. "that can wait. it's time we helped uncle abe wash up. then maybe he'll let us have a couple of blankets to spread before the fire. we're dead for sleep and we're keeping him up too." the old fellow started to answer, then cocked his head and lifted a warning hand. "is folks a-follerin' yo' chill'un?" he asked suddenly. "yes," said dorothy, "and they mustn't catch us!" "dey's someone a-comin'," he whispered. "don' yo' say nuffin'. jes do like uncle abe tell yo'all and he fix it so nobody can't find nuffin' hyar!" chapter xii voices from below "take dose clo'es by de fire yonder," directed the sharp-eared old man, "an' go in de back room an' shin up de wall shelves to dese fo'-by fo's oveh our heads. tote de clo'es 'long wid yo' an' lay flat on dem boards. 'times i trap somefin' out er season--dis niggeh's got ter eat--dat dere's mah hidin' place. nobody can't see yo'all, nobody can't fin' yo' dere!" while he talked and the others snatched their half dried things from before the fire, the old darky was clearing the table of dishes. he flung the remains of the meal onto the blazing logs and scooping up the cups and plates, stacked them, dirty as they were, on a shelf. dorothy and bill ran into the back room and scrambled up to the crossbeams. as they crawled along the boards which were laid close together in threes, they saw uncle abe light an ancient corncob, then pick up a tattered newspaper and sit down by the fire. no more had they laid themselves flat on their airy perch with their bundles of damp clothing, than there came a pounding on the cabin door. "who dat?" called out ol' man river without moving from his chair. "open up, do you hear, river? i want to speak to you," barked a voice from out the night. "yaas, suh--comin'!" peering through the cracks between the boards, his guests saw him rise slowly and shuffle to the door. stretched out over the little bed chamber, with their heads close to the partition, they had an unobstructed view of the lighted room beyond. as the boards were laid over the middle of both rooms and ran nearly the length of the cabin, they realized with satisfaction that unless someone stood close to the side wall, it would be impossible to spy them out. uncle abe's oil lamp sent its gleams but a few feet, and the rest of the room and the crossbeams lay in deep shadow which was an added protection to the hidden two. ol' man river drew the bolt and swung open the door. "walk right in, marse joyce," they heard him say. and without waiting for a reply, he hobbled painfully back to his chair before the hearth. three men stamped into the cabin and banged the door shut on the storm. "you're keeping late hours, river," the leader of the party snapped out without preamble. from the tones of his voice, dorothy and bill knew him to be the same man who had spoken to them in the valley meadow, and who bill had downed with the gasoline tin. he was a short, stocky person with a bulldog face and a scrubby toothbrush moustache. he and his companions looked tired and angry. they were also very wet. the speaker walked over to the fire, leaving a track of little pools across the floor. putting his hands over the blaze, he scowled down at uncle abe. "well," he contended disagreeably, "i said you were up late. answer me, can't you?" "so yo' say, marse joyce. so yo' say." uncle abe continued to gaze unconcernedly into the fire as though he had no idea the heavy set man was becoming angrier by the minute. "you black whelp!" he thundered, "what do you mean by bandying words with me?" uncle abe remained silent. "are you deaf?" cried joyce. "tell me what you're sitting up for!" "i'se takin' a warm, suh." "taking a--_warm_?" "yaas, suh. i'se a mis'ry in der feet--rhumytizzem. can't sleep nohow. so i sets an' reads de paper by de fire--an' takes a warm." "oh, you do, do you?" "yaas, suh, i sho' do." "don't answer me back that way, do you hear?" the old darky continued to puff calmly on his corncob. mr. joyce thrust his hands in his pockets and glowered at him. his companions stood silently by, watching uncle abe. "where are your visitors?" he asked suddenly. bill released the safety-catch on his automatic. uncle abe puffed steadily on his pipe, but said nothing. "answer me! where are they?" snarled john j. joyce. "yaas, suh!" the old darky removed the corncob from his mouth and looked up at his late employer. "well, why don't you speak?" "kase yo' done tell me not ter answer a while back." "i tell you to answer me now." mr. joyce glared threateningly into his face. "are you just stubborn, or in your dotage? _where are your visitors?_" the old man spat with great precision on to a glowing cinder. "dey right hyar, marse joyce," he said. "right here? where?" "hyar in dis room, suh. all three o' yo'." "say, are you crazy, or am i?" joyce flung at him. "no, suh, i ain' crazy," returned the old man, and joyce's companions broke into a roar of laughter at this none too subtle gibe. john j. joyce turned on them furiously. "shut up, you two! go into that back room and pull them out!" still guffawing, the men disappeared through the doorway in the partition. "nobody in here!" a voice sang out after a moment. joyce looked bewildered. then he picked up the lamp, walked to the open door and looked into the room. "yank that bed apart!" he ordered. the two lying on the boards above his head heard the men dragging the evergreen boughs off the couch. joyce said not a word when their search was ended, but turned on his heel and returned to the front room, followed by his henchmen. "didn't think yo'd fin' nobody," remarked uncle abe mildly, "if yo' had, i'd sho' bin supprised!" "so you'd been surprised, eh?" john j. joyce had an unpleasant way of repeating words. now he stood over the old man belligerently. "yaas, suh," replied uncle abe with an unconcern he probably did not feel. "i could o' tol' yo' dat dey's nobody in dere. who yo'all a-lookin' fo'?" "what business is that of yours?" the old man remained silent. "if you must know," snarled joyce, "we're looking for a young fellow and a girl." "what dey doin' uphyar in de woods at dis time o' night?" "tryin' to get away from us, i guess," said one of the men. "you keep your trap shut, featherstone," barked joyce. "i'm not paying you to talk. this is my show, not yours." "well, if you talk that way, you can run it by yourself. i'm not your slave. keep a civil tongue in your head, joyce--or i'll go back to the car--and go right now." "that goes with me, too," broke in the second man gruffly. "what d'you take us for--a pair of fools? i wasn't hired to do a marathon the length and breadth of the forest on a soakin' wet night. those kids ain't here--let's go!" "oh, is that so? well now you've had your say, and you'll go--when i get good and ready," sneered joyce in his disagreeable, domineering voice. "but what's the use of hangin' round?" argued the first man. "i'm tired and i'm hungry and i'm soaked to the skin--" "and if i say the word to certain parties, the two of you will be taking a longer journey," snapped their employer, "--a little trip up the river that ends in a chair--a red hot one. shut up, both of you." he turned to uncle abe again. "come, river--out with it," he commanded. "where have that boy and girl gone to?" "how should i know?" uncle abe knocked his pipe out on the hearth. "what fo' yo'all chasin' dese hyar chillun in de woods?" "that's my business. there are fresh tracks leading along the trail right up to your door." "dat may be, suh. day may be. i ain't sayin' dey isn't, marse joyce." he wagged his head solemnly. "i wuz out myse'f e'rlier in de evenin'." "huh! you wouldn't leave two sets of tracks!" "yaas, suh, marse joyce--goin' an' comin'." dorothy, from her perch above, smiled at the old darky's astuteness. their tracks were on the trail, of course, for those who followed to read; but the rain had long ago blurred the outlines. their pursuers could not know in which direction the footprints led. "so you think it was your tracks we followed?" john j. joyce continued to speak in the harsh, bullying tone that made dorothy want to kick him. she realized, nevertheless, that the old darky's last statement was proving a serious facer to his inquisitor. "i ain't a-gwine ter say jes' dat," returned uncle abe. "all i knows is dat i made tracks on de trail. if dey's more'n two pair, dey ain't mine." "what trails were you on?" came the sudden question, and dorothy tingled with excitement as uncle abe hesitated. "lemme see, suh--why, i wuz down de spy rock trail, an' de cross trail. and den i wuz 'long de overlook and de raven rock trails--" "a nice long walk you had on a wet night," sneered the white man. uncle abe was imperturbable. "yaas, suh." "i don't believe a word of it." "dat yo' priv-lige, marse joyce." "well, it doesn't sound likely to me, especially when you say you've rheumatism in your feet." "i'se gotter eat, suh." "what's that got to do with it? there are no stores on these trails. what do you pretend you were doing, anyway?" ol' man river chuckled gently. "baitin' traps." "catch anything?" joyce sneered. "i don't suppose you did." "den you's a mighty bad 'sposer, suh. kaze i done cotch dat der rabbit yonder!" following the direction of his pointed finger, dorothy saw for the first time that a large jackrabbit hung from a crossbeam in a corner. "it's no go, joyce," broke in one of the henchmen. "this nigger doesn't know where those kids are. let's beat it." joyce, who had unbuttoned his coat, fastened it up again. "for once you're right," he admitted truculently. "it's time we got back to the car. that pair have holed in for the night somewhere else. we'll watch the reservation entrances in the morning." "good night, suh, and a pleasant walk!" dorothy had hard work to repress her laughter. she loved this spunky old negro. joyce turned angrily upon him. "you keep a civil tongue in your face, river!" he menaced. "in the first place, this is a state preserve, and poaching is severely punished; and secondly, you have no right to be squatting in this shelter, i--" "pick on someone your size, joyce," advised the man who had spoken before. "this old nigger ain't doin' you nor anyone else any harm. leave him alone." "it's two to one, joyce. come on!" said the other. for a moment dorothy thought there would be a row. joyce looked as though he would burst with rage. but evidently thinking better of it, he turned his back to the fire and strode over to the door. without another word, he opened it and disappeared into the black night. he was followed immediately by the two men. the one who had spoken for abe swung round in the doorway. "i know you're a good hearted old liar, uncle," he whispered. "and if you think a minute you'll know why i know it! don't blame you. joyce has a nasty temper and no matter where those kids are, we'll round 'em up in the morning, anyway. good night!" "'night," returned ol' man river. "pleasant walk, suh!" "yep. the joke's on us," grinned the other and shut the door behind him. bill and dorothy were about to move from their cramped positions when they saw the old man raise a finger to his lips in warning as apparently he studied the glowing embers of the fire. the door suddenly opened and the same man stuck his head in. "you're a sly old fox," he said. "i know you've got those kids hidden somewhere. maybe they're listening for all i know, and i can tell you, uncle, they are getting a rotten deal. joyce calls me featherstone. here's my card. give it to them. g'd-night." a bit of white pasteboard fluttered to the floor as the door slammed. uncle abe got stiffly off his chair, shuffled over to the door and sent the bolt home. then he picked up the card. bill pushed the pile of damp clothing off the boards, then swung himself down to the floor. dorothy was beside him as he turned to catch her. "uncle abe," she said, taking the old man's hand, "you are kind and you're good, and you are very, very brave. bill and i can never properly thank you for all you've done for us tonight." "say no mo' 'bout it," protested uncle abe, when bill put his hand on his shoulder. "look here, uncle abe," he broke in, "you're one of the grandest guys i know. some day perhaps we can even up things a bit. you ran a big risk for us, you know." the old man smiled and blinked at them for a moment. "then, yo'all must be sleepy--i sho' is. you kin take the back room if you will, missy. marse bill an' me's gwine ter hit de hay in here." "who was that man, uncle abe?" asked dorothy, stifling a yawn with the palm of her hand. "what did his card say, i mean?" "spec' he's a deteckative, missy. de card say 'michael michaels, private inquiry agent'." "evidently he's got his eye on joyce," summed up bill. "wonder who he's working for?" "what interests me more just now," said dorothy, "is how mister michael michaels knew we were hidden here." the old man chuckled. "he's sho' 'nuf a smart man, missy. it wuz de tracks on de trail. he know'd i done never make dem tracks. he know'd dey wan't nobody else's but yourn." "how come, uncle?" asked bill. "dat jackrabbit a-hangin' yonder done it, suh." "but what's that rabbit got to do with our tracks?" "marse michaels, he must o' touched dat bunny. den he know'd it wan't never trapped today. dat bunny's stiff ez er hick'ry log!" dorothy and bill burst into laughter. "bet you were scared silly for fear joyce might examine it and realize that you hadn't been out tonight!" said bill. "dat's right, sho' nuf, marse bill." "you know, mr. michaels may be a big help to us," remarked dorothy, yawning unashamedly in their faces this time. "well, i just can't hold my head up any longer. good night, both of you." "good night," returned bill and uncle abe in unison. dorothy took herself off to the back room and bed. chapter xiii the way out the gray light of early morning crept into shelter no. through the open shutters. it brought to view two forms rolled in blankets, sleeping soundly before the dying embers of last night's woodfire. in the back room, dorothy was curled up on the fragrant bed of evergreens, deep in a dreamless slumber. the storm of the evening was gone, leaving in its place a fine, steady drizzle. the air was chill and damp. it bade fair to be another unpleasant day. the hands of a battered alarm clock that stood on the chimney shelf marked quarter to eight, but the sleepers were motionless. then suddenly uncle abe sat up and knuckled the sleep from his eyes. "lordy, lordy!" he grumbled, catching sight of the clock. "dose chillun wuz ter git 'way early an' dis hye'r nigger sleepin' lak de daid. i speck de young missy an' marse bill need der sleep--an' we'll fool marse joyce jus' de same." he got stiffly to his feet, stretched his ancient arms above his head and set about building up the fire. presently bill opened his eyes and yawned. then he threw off his blanket, sat up and sniffed. "bacon--eggs--coffee," he murmured. "good morning, uncle, you sure are an a . up to the minute chef!" hovering over a sizzling frying pan, the old man turned his head and smiled at bill. "mornin', marse bill. yaas, suh, i 'low dat eatin' brekfus' an' gettin' it, too, is de bes' fashion what is." "you said it," grinned bill. "say, i guess we all overslept! well, no use crossing our bridges 'til we come to 'em. any place in this hotel where i can wash and slick up a bit, uncle?" "sho' is, suh. de soap an' de towel an' de bucket an' de basin is over yonder by de do'. when yo'alls done wid dem, p'raps yo'll wake de young missy, an' carry de bucket in yonder?" "sure will," returned bill, "but i'll wake her up first." he went to the door in the partition and banged his fist on the panels. "first call for breakfast in the dining car ahead--" "ummm--" responded a sleepy voice from the back room. "time to get up, dorothy. hop to it, kid!" "i'm awake!" called back that young lady. "o.k. when you're ready, there'll be a pail of water outside your door." "thanks. be with you in a jiffy." bill crossed the room, sloshed water into the tin basin and carried the pail back. while he was immersed in his morning ablutions dorothy's door opened and her hand withdrew the pail. bill had no more than taken a seat at the table, when she put in her appearance. dressed in the overalls, flannel shirt and heavy wool socks of the night before, she looked particularly bright and cheerful. "morning, everybody!" she smiled. "that bed of yours, uncle abe, is the most comfortable one i ever slept on. too bad i had to turn you out of it." "reckon neither marse bill ner me knowed what we wuz a-sleepin' on, missy. i sho' wuz daid ter ebbryt'ing all night long. de flo' ain't discomfertubble, when yo' knows how ter lay on it." "i'm kind of stiff," admitted bill. "but i feel fifty million per cent better. bet i never moved from the time i turned in until the smell of breakfast woke me up." "my!" exclaimed dorothy, peeking into the frying pan. "where did all these swell eggs come from, uncle?" the old darky chuckled. "dat's one o' de two things a white pusson mus'nt never ask no color'd pusson, missy." "and what's the other?" dorothy inquired with twinkling eyes. "where a nigger gits his chickens." all three of them laughed this time and sat down to breakfast. during the meal there was little conversation. both dorothy and bill were frankly hungry and each was silently puzzling a way out of their predicament. uncle abe, always affable, nevertheless, rarely if ever volunteered advice unless called upon. in his mind, to do otherwise would have been a breach of good manners. bill drained his second cup of coffee and met dorothy's look. "got any ideas?" he asked her. she shook her head and pushed her chair back from the table. "no, i haven't," she confessed gravely. "but if i'm any judge of bad character, mr. john j. joyce will keep his promise. too bad we slept so long." "maybe," said bill. "but without that good rest, we'd have been dead ones today. the tough part of it is that joyce's men will be posted at all the reservation entrances now--" "and on the trails around this shelter." "very likely. if we could ditch those guys and hike over to a road, we might get a lift out in somebody's car. lots of people drive in here on sundays." "not in weather like this, bill. no, even if we did persuade someone to give us a lift, we'd be soon seen and stopped." bill suddenly brought his fist down upon the table. "we're a pair of idiots," he declared. "joyce's men won't stop us. they'll be looking for stoker conway and a girl. keep those clothes on you're wearing, and with my old hat, all they'll see is a couple of fellows on a tramp. nobody'd take me for george conway. why, we've got nothing to worry about!" "that's where i differ with you. we most certainly have plenty to worry us." "but how come, dorothy?" "how do we know that friend joyce hasn't got hold of stoker and possibly terry, too?" "then--if he has, he won't want us." "oh, yes, he will. you can bet your boots, mr. joyce isn't letting anyone go whom he may think was mixed up in last night's affair." bill looked surprised. "but joyce can't go on kidnapping people," he argued. "or rather he can't keep on trying to kidnap the whole bunch who were in stoker's house last night, and then hold them indefinitely. even if he caught us all, he couldn't hold us long." "long enough to get what he thinks stoker has got--and make his getaway, if necessary. at least that's how i figure it. if he catches any of us we're not likely to come in personal contact with him. he's too smart to give himself away like that." "possibly you're right. but if he did catch any of us, he'd soon find out that stoker and the rest of the bunch know less about this mysterious something he's after than he does himself!" dorothy smiled. "rather involved, but i think i fathom your meaning. you seem to forget, bill, that when betty and i butted into this thing up at the conway house, a couple of strong-arm men were starting to heat a poker. i don't think mr. joyce's hospitality will prove a pleasant experience if we are caught by him or his men." "well, we've got to get off this reservation--how are we going to do it?" "blest if i know," she admitted candidly. "but we've just got to find a way. and look here, bill--i know you think i'm all steamed up over a trifle--but i honestly believe that whatever joyce is trying to steal from stoker is so enormously valuable that he's determined to risk pretty nearly everything short of murder to gain possession of it!" "i wouldn't put murder past him, either," said bill. "his actions prove he's in deadly earnest," dorothy went on, and then turned to ol' man river, who was peacefully puffing his pipe. "you've heard what we were saying, uncle abe. have you any suggestions to give us?" that ancient colored gentleman removed the corncob from between his teeth and pursed his lips. "waal, yaas, m'am. i reckon marse johnson is de answer to yo' question," he said thoughtfully. "oh, he's the reservation superintendent--you're right, uncle abe--he can do it if anyone can. why didn't we think of him before?" "dat am so, missy. der ain't a-gwine nobody ter stop yo'all long wid marse johnson." "that's a great idea, uncle," applauded bill. "the super's house is right across the reservation from here, if i recall rightly?" "yaas, suh, it am. right down yonder where de boutonville road come out far side ob de reservation t'ard cross river." "think you could pilot us down there and give those guys in the woods the miss?" "i speck dese men ain't gwine ter git familious wid us if yo' foller ol' man river. i'se boun' we-all sho' give 'em de bestes' game er hide an' seek dey ez ever had. it ain't a-gwine be easy, marse bill. but i'll git yo'all down yonder and den you kin carry de young missy home in a kyar. marse johnson, he's got three automerbiles." "i hope it'll be as easy as you say," grinned bill, amused by the old man's earnestness. "i'll make a bundle of miss dorothy's clothes and then the best thing we can do is to get started." "i'se got a pair er sneakers dat you kin wear, missy," uncle abe announced. "dey ain't no count nohow, but dey's got sol's an' dat sho' am better dan walkin' in dose socks." "thanks a lot, uncle, you're such a grand help to us--" she smiled at the old man and he fairly beamed. "i'll love wearing them. but first of all, we'll heat some water and wash dishes. don't look so annoyed, bill. we've got plenty of time, now, and there's nothing more slovenly than letting the dishes go after a meal. we did it because we had to last night, but i intend to leave uncle abe's cabin just as spick and span as we found it. you fetch some water and heat it while uncle abe scrapes the plates. in the meantime i'll straighten up the back room and sweep out the house." dorothy was as good as her word. by the time the dish water was hot, her bed had been made, the cabin swept and generally put to rights. then she brought out the dishpan and washed both the supper and breakfast dishes while bill and uncle abe dried them. "some swell housekeeper," said bill to uncle abe with a grimace, "and she knows how to make the men folks work, too!" "an' dat am ez it should be," declared the old darky solemnly. "de good book say, 'what am food fo' de goose am good eatin' fo' de gander'...." "i don't know whether that's a compliment, or not, uncle," laughed dorothy. "but you see, it didn't take long, and i feel better knowing everything's clean." "is your ladyship ready to go now?" asked bill. "quite ready--thank you so much." "then let's shove off. what you said about stoker and terry a while ago has got me worried, i must admit. i want to get to a telephone just as soon as possible." uncle abe left the cabin first. after scouting about in the cold drizzle for a few minutes, he came back and declared that the way was clear. "i gen'rally goes 'long overlook trail an' down de cross river road ter git er marse johnson's house," explained the old man, once they were outside the cabin. "but dis mornin' we ain't gwine dat-away--t'aint safe. yo' all stick close behin' ol' man river, an' sing out ef he's a-travelin' too fast. dis ain't no easy trail we'se takin'." he struck directly into the woods and for the next hour dorothy never even sighted a path. she soon found out that when uncle abe described this as 'no easy trail,' he was telling the unvarnished truth. dorothy was no alice-sit-by-the-fire. she had been on some stiff hikes before this, but the ancient negro led them up hill and down dale, through the tangled undergrowth or virgin forest dripping wet with rain. and he led them through this wilderness of trees and rocks at a perfectly amazing rate of speed. until dorothy caught her second wind, she was hard put to keep up. if joyce had men out, they never saw them. in fact, except for an occasional bird or small forest animal scuttling away in their advance, they neither saw nor heard any living thing. eventually they climbed the steep side of a wooded ridge and stopped. below them, through the trees dorothy made out woodland meadows, stretching down to a road which ran along their side of the valley. lower down and paralleling the highway, a winding river ran down the vale. lying in broad fields near the river to their left was a large farm house and barns. "cross river road, cross river, and marse johnson's house," announced uncle abe, using a hand and forearm for a pointer. "dat highway yonder what runs inter de cross river road near de house ez de honey holler road. right dar am de cross river entrance, an' right dar ez 'zackly de place whar ol' man joyce's gang am hangin' out." "it's going to be a job to get down there without being seen," remarked bill. "der ain't nobody gwine ter see us," protested the old darky, "kaze soon ex we git ter der open, you an' me an' missy am gwine ter ben' down low an' hug de far side er de stone fences. but we'alls stayed hyar confabbin' long 'nuf. got ter git goin' ag'in." he moved off down the slope, the others following. by dint of doing exactly as he advised, fifteen minutes later found them ringing mr. johnson's doorbell. "dese young people am fren's er mine, miz johnson," uncle abe told the motherly person who opened the door. "step right in," she invited with a smile. "lands sakes, you're drippin' wet. come in by the kitchen range and get dried out. you must be perishin'--" "thanks. may i use your telephone?" inquired bill as he spied a wall instrument in the hall. "of course you can," beamed mrs. johnson. "there's a book on the table there." "thank you, i know the number." "going to call up stoker?" asked dorothy in a low tone. "yes. you and uncle abe go into the kitchen and get warm. i'll be with you in a minute or two." but it was not until a good five minutes later that bill put in his appearance. "everything all right?" demanded dorothy from her seat on a kitchen chair close to the coal range. "i'm afraid not," bill looked worried. "they don't answer the phone." chapter xiv the lion's den "no answer at all?" dorothy inquired anxiously. "that's what i said." bill's tone was a bit gruff. he walked over to the range and warmed his hands at the glowing coals. "what i mean is, could you hear the bell ring in stoker's house?" "oh, yes, the bell rang. but nobody came to the phone." "that's what i wanted to know." "why? i can't see that the ringing of the phone bell makes any difference--" "all the difference," declared dorothy. "never mind why, now. i've just told mrs. johnson that i had to park _wispy_ on the other side of the reservation last night, and that some men over there were very disagreeable and we were forced to accept uncle abe's hospitality for the night." "we think a heap of uncle abe on the reservation," affirmed the superintendent's wife. "and don't you worry about your airplane, miss dixon. we'll see that it don't come to no harm. my husband had to drive over to katonah this morning, but i'll get sam watson on the job. he's in the office right now. sam!" she called, "come in here." a stalwart, broad-shouldered young man walked into the kitchen. his natty uniform marked him a member of the reservation force. "did you want something, mrs. johnson?" "this is miss dorothy dixon of new canaan, and mr.--" she hesitated. "bolton--bill bolton," supplied that young man. "the flyers!" guard watson's honest face wore a broad grin. "heard about you both--who hasn't? pleased to meet you, i'm sure." he shook hands with them and nodded to uncle abe. "it's like this, sam," explained mrs. johnson. "miss dixon run out of gas last night and her airplane is down to the woodlot just below raven rocks in the stone hill river valley. get eddie, that's his beat anyway, and keep an eye on the airplane until these young folks pick it up this afternoon. they had trouble with some tramps over there last evenin' and put up to uncle abe's for the night. pass the word on to the rest of the boys about them dead beats that's botherin' people on the reservation, will you?" "i sure will, mrs. johnson. if they're still around, we'll run 'em off quicker'n greased lightning." "you're very good," smiled dorothy. "we saw a couple of suspicious characters hanging round the cross river entrance when we came over here to headquarters just now." "i'll rout 'em out," sam watson promised. "if they kick up a fuss they'll put in thirty days behind the bars. well, i must be hoppin' it. glad to have met you folks, i'm sure. so long, everybody!" with a stiff salute and a broad smile he was gone. they heard him tramp down the hall and then the front door slammed. "checkmate to j. j. j.," murmured bill. dorothy played chess with her father--"not checkmate--check," she corrected. "by the way, mrs. johnson, i wonder if we can trespass on your good humor still further?" "land's sakes alive! i haven't done nothing for you yet!" the superintendent's wife was busy with hot water and a teapot. "do you happen to have an extra car that we could borrow for a few hours?" "why, sure i have, my dear. but there's no hurry about your leavin', is there? a cup of tea, now, to warm you up and some of these nice crisp crullers i made yesterday? then i'll get you and mr. bolton some dry things to put on and after dinner you can take the car and ride home. how'll that be?" dorothy laughed and shook her head. "you're awfully kind, really, mrs. johnson, but we can't stay. we've got an appointment that just can't be broken." "but your wet clothes, miss dixon?" "thanks for your offer, but we aren't so wet now. i will have a cup of tea if i may, although we only finished breakfast a little while ago." "and don't forget those crisp crullers," protested bill with a grin. "i certainly do love homemade crullers, ma'am." "an' dey ain't nuffin' better 'an de ones miz johnson makes," chuckled uncle abe. "i'se tasted 'em befo' an' dis hyar nigger knows!" mrs. johnson beamed delightedly. "even if i do say so who shouldn't," she remarked modestly, "this batch came out pretty good. but are you sure i can't tempt you to stay for sunday dinner? we're having fish chowder, chicken friccassee, with dumplin's, and a pumpkin pie!" "you sure do make my mouth water," groaned bill. "i only wish we could stop, and meet your husband, mrs. johnson. if you'll keep the invitation open, we'd love to take advantage of it some other time." the good lady passed them their tea and a plate heaped with golden brown crullers. "we'll make it next sunday noon then. our children are all married, with homes of their own. mr. johnson and i miss not having young folks round the house. it'll make it seem like the good old times again, if you come. don't forget now, next sunday." "we'll be here with bells on, mrs. johnson," promised bill. "and we'll try not to look like a couple of tramps then," added dorothy. "you'll always be welcome, no matter what you wear," declared their hostess. "i'll make another pumpkin pie for you." they chatted for ten minutes or so and then bade mrs. johnson goodbye. "uncle abe will take you out to the garage," she said in parting. "take the buick. you'll need a closed car on a day like this." when the kitchen door had shut out the smiling, motherly figure, and they were following the old darky along the drive, dorothy turned to bill. "and they say that new englanders are not hospitable! why, they're the most hospitable people in america if you really know them!" "country people, no matter what part of the united states they live in, are generally friendly. living in cities, where your next door neighbor is a stranger, makes a person suspicious. but i've found that most honest-to-goodness americans will do a lot for a person in trouble." "dere's de kyar, missy," uncle abe interrupted apologetically. "reckon dis hyar ol' nigger'll wish yo'all goodbye an' mo' comferble beds ternight." dorothy caught the old fellow's hand and held it between her own. "uncle abe," she said, looking straight into his shining eyes, "do you really like living up there in the woods, all by yourself?" "waal, dis nigger ain't used ter much, missy," he said slowly, "an' de cabin am a heap better 'an a barn er no roof atall. but, it sho' do get mighty lonesome, 'times." "i bet it does. how would you like to live in quarters over our garage and work for my father? he was saying only a day or so ago that what with driving the cars and all arthur has too much to do around the place. we need a gardener and general handy man. the job is yours if you'll take it--and i don't mind saying i'll feel badly if you don't." ol' man river winked back the tears with a brave effort, although the little wrinkles at the corners of his mouth puckered in a smile. "yo' sho' is good ter dis hyar nigger, missy!" "and you want to come? i won't take no for an answer--" "it do me good fer ter hear you sesso, missy. kaze yo' sho' is de qual'ty and dis hyar ol' nigger never done had no real fambly 'time he come no'th." bill winked at uncle abe. "and if that nocount dixon family don't treat you right, you come right across the road to my house." "spect i'll git 'long tollerbul well on miss dor'thy's side," he chuckled. "well, what's the good word now, dorothy?" bill motioned toward the buick. "it's about time we beat it over to stoker's, don't you think?" "i do think," returned dorothy. "and that's why we aren't going over there." "but surely--" "but nothing. the boys aren't there or they'd have answered the phone. if you hadn't heard the bell ring we could be fairly sure the wire was cut and that they were holding the house in a state of siege, so to speak. now we know they aren't there." bill did not seem impressed. "if that line of reasoning is logical, i'm as cold on the right answer as a water tank in winter. how do you know joyce's men haven't got them tied up in the house?" "because at this stage of the game, joyce would hardly do that and leave them there for their friends to find. and if his men were still in the house, they'd be sure to answer the telephone. you and uncle abe get right into that buick now. we are going to take a run up to mr. john j. joyce's place." bill did not attempt to hide his astonishment. "gee, whiz, dorothy?--you've got a whale of a lot of nerve!" dorothy shrugged and looked steadily at bill. "well, are you game?" for answer he followed her into the car. "pretty much like jumping feet first into the lion's den," he commented, "but considering your middle name is daniel, or ought to be, i dare say we'll have a roaring good time of it!" "stop talking jazz, bill. how about you, uncle abe?" the old man already lounged back on the rear seat. "reverse dis hyar injine inter de drive, miss dor'thy--an' when yo'all turned round i'se gwine ter show yo' where we'se a-gwine." dorothy, smiling over the steering wheel, backed out of the garage and got the buick headed toward the road. "well, uncle?" she prompted. "d'reckly in front of us, way over yonder on de far hill ez er big house." "the white one in the trees?" asked bill. "yaas, suh, de only one any pusson kin see from hyar. dat am hilltop, marse conway's ol' place." "where mr. lewis lives now!" "eggzackly so, ma'am. marse joyce's place ez jus' back er yonder." "bet he calls it, 'the den,'" said bill. uncle abe cackled, "no, suh, marse bill--hee-hee--dat house done called 'nearma'." "near ma?" repeated dorothy in a puzzled tone. "there are some queer indian names in this part of the country, but that's a new one on me." "'tain't injun, missy. dat dere hones' ter goodness 'merican. marse joyce's ol' ma uster lib cross de ridgeroad. dat how he come ter name de house 'near ma'." "that old scurmudgeon! i don't believe it!" cried bill in an explosion of laughter. "dat am de spittin' trufe, marse bill. de ol' lady am daid, but he still call de place nearma jus' de same." "how do we get to it, uncle?" dorothy asked after a moment. "run out de entrance till we come ter de turnpike, missy. den right, long dat road to cross river. from de village yonder we follers de road ter lake waccabuc, but we don't hafter travel dat far." "good enough." the car swung round the side of the house and into the road. "i guess sam got rid of the watchers by the gate--there's nobody at the entrance." they swept into the highroad and on through the pre-revolutionary hamlet of cross river. half a mile further, as they were speeding along the top of a wooded ridge, uncle abe spoke again. "dat stone fence long de road ter de right b'long ter hilltop," he pointed out. "de house am set way back from de road behin' de trees. round de bend ahead yo'all gwine ter see 'nother higher wall, dat starts by three white birches. yonder am where marse joyce's land begins." "and what's on the farther side of the joyce property?" "dere ain't nuffin, missy, 'cept jes' mo' dese hyar woods." "fine! and i suppose, after being up here for nearly ten years, you can find your way about in those woods?" "sho' can, missy. ef dere's er rabbit hole dis nigger a' missed in dem woods, i wanter know." "better and better. you're a marvellous help, uncle abe." "what do you plan to do? park the car near the road, hike back through the woods and cut over toward the house from that side?" bill was not enthusiastic. "just about that." "and when you sight the historic mansion?" "i'm going into the house." "oh, yes, you are..." "oh, yes, i am!" "and how do you expect to do that without being nabbed right off the bat?" "last night you told me i asked too many questions, bill. and uncle abe says 'what's food for the goose is swell eating for the gander...'!" chapter xv in the toils "ef yo'll pahdon my sayin' so, miss do'thy," volunteered uncle abe as the car was run into the underbrush beyond the nearma wall and parked behind a clump of scrub oak and evergreens, "i 'lows as how it sho' would er bin better ter 'proach de house from de odder side. we could er travelled down marse lewis' place and come in dat-a-way. dere's mo' lan'scapin' on dat side." "thanks for the suggestion, uncle," dorothy locked the ignition. "but i think we'll keep just as far away from mr. lewis' property as we can, for the present." "do you think he really is mixed up with j. j. j. in this business?" bill asked her. "can't say--it certainly looks like it--and we'll take no unnecessary chances." "how about the chances we'll take in breaking into nearma?" "i said unnecessary! anyway, i'm the one that's going in there." "but look here, dorothy! do you think i'm going to let you walk into that place alone?" "not alone, old dear. uncle abe is coming with me." "oh, is he? and what am i to do while you're in the house mixing it up with those thugs? do you expect me to stick out here with the car and see that somebody doesn't steal the tires?" dorothy looked amused. bill was annoyed with her and she did not blame him. "you'll have plenty to do, bill." she gave his shoulder a good-natured pat and sprang out of the car. "come on, both of you. i'll explain my plan as we go. lead the way, uncle abe. i want to get to the kitchen door without being seen from the house if possible." uncle abe got out of the car. bill was already beside her. "yo'all foller ol' man river!" said the ancient darky and led into the woods away from the road. "well, what's the dope?" bill's tone was less exasperated now, and side by side they swung in behind the old man. dorothy took his arm. "i guess you think i'm a brainless idiot," she began, "with all my wild schemes--" "well, i don't quite see your idea in going in there alone--but it's your show, so go ahead and explain." "attaboy! now this is the point. i want to do some scouting inside and i'll need you to cover me as it were. uncle abe knows joyce's servants. and mr. joyce is looking for you and me. well, don't you see, if uncle abe brings a stray _boy_ into the kitchen for a bite to eat, it won't seem anything out of the way. in these clothes, i'll never be taken for a girl." "but you won't stay in the kitchen--i know you!" bill was not quite convinced. "perhaps not--what i do inside will depend on circumstances as i find 'em." "humph! and what is my important work to consist of?" "i want you to watch this side of the house. if i need you, i'll open a window and wave. if it happens to be a window on the ground floor, you can get in that way. if i open a second story window, come in through the kitchen. you've got a gun--that ought to be a help." "but--suppose you aren't able to get to a window?" "oh, then wait half an hour; when the time's up run down to cross river in the car and phone the state police and get them up here just as soon as possible." "why not get them up here now?" "because we really haven't got anything to go on. chances are they wouldn't come and i want to be able to pin something good and definite on mr. john j. joyce before we get the police on the job." bill seemed impressed by her reasoning. "i guess you're right. if stoker and terry are in nearma and we can prove it, j. j. j. will have a nice little charge of kidnapping to face." "and i want to get him for grand larceny and conspiracy as well," she returned. "that may sound ambitious, but i want to land that gentleman and his friends on a bunch of counts that will send them to sing sing for a very, very long time." "you and me both. i don't know what joyce's plans are, but after listening to his bark last night, i'll bet they're something pretty rotten. hello!--there's uncle abe beckoning." they caught up with the old darky who was peering through the woods to their right. "yonder's de stone fence, missy," he announced, "an' beyon' am marse joyce's prop'ty. de house am 'bout fifty yards from de fence." "good. bill, you go ahead and lay low behind some of the bushes near the house. uncle abe and i will be along in a minute." "aye, aye, skipper. take care of yourself." with a wave of his hand he climbed the low stone wall and disappeared into the shrubbery on the joyce grounds. dorothy turned to ol' man river. "i suppose you know the cook over there, uncle?" "oh, yaas, ma'am. liza an' me's bin frien's fer ten years." "that's fine. now listen to what i say, because you've got your part to play in this affair and there mustn't be any slipup." for several minutes she talked earnestly to the old negro. "is that all clear?" she ended presently. "yaas, missy. i'll do what yo'all tells me to--but i ain't 'zackly hankerin' fer you to do all dis." dorothy laughed. "neither am i, uncle. but it's just got to be done, you know." they climbed the fence as bill had done and set off in the direction of the house, which soon came into view through the shrubbery and trees. as they drew nearer, dorothy saw that nearma was a large white frame house with green shutters in the conventional new england style. a wide veranda ran along the front of the house and on the far side a massive fieldstone chimney broke the expanse of clapboard between the rows of windows. the drive swung round the front of the building and turned sharply to the rear cutting the wide lawn on the near side. the grounds were beautifully landscaped. on a bright summer's day it must indeed be a lovely spot. just then it looked bleak and drear in the steady autumn downpour. they reached the drive without sighting bill, and followed it to the back of the house. presently uncle abe was knocking on the kitchen door. his second knock was followed by the sound of footsteps and the door opened to disclose an enormously fat negress whose head was bound with a bright red bandanna. the angry glare on her round black face changed to a delighted grin as she recognized her visitor. "lord, lordy," she exclaimed. "if it ain't uncle abe river hisself. come in outer de wet. you sure is a sight fer sore eyes. ain't seen you nohow fer a month er sundays!" liza bustled her callers through an outer pantry into a spacious kitchen. "i wuz over ter cross river," said uncle abe, seating himself in a proffered chair. "an' you is allus so good an 'commydatin', liza, i 'lowed i'd drop in an--" "find out whedder liza would ask you t' dinner," chuckled that good natured person. "reckon you ain't livin' so high now'days in dat der cabin." "yo' sho' is a good guesser," grinned uncle abe. "but i likes ter see ol' frien's an' i wanted speshul ter ax if marse joyce could gimme a spell o' work rakin' leaves er sump'n." liza pursed her lips an shook her head vigorously. "'tain't likely dat man'd give you nothin'," she said darkly. "de goin's on hyar lately is sure terrubul. wat wid all dese strange men in de house an' de young gemmun dey brought in han'cuffed las' night--an' right froo dis hyar kitchen too--i'se jes' 'bout ready ter give notice. but i mustn't say nothin'! who is dis hyar boy wid you, uncle?" dorothy made a quick decision. "not a boy, auntie--a girl," she said quietly. "--and a friend of the young man who was brought here last night." "sakes alive!" exploded the stout cook. "wat's all dis i'm a-hearin'?" "yo'all hearin' de spittin' trufe, liza," chimed in uncle abe earnestly. "miss do'thy am de qual'ty. jes' yo' listen ter wat she say." dorothy waited for no more comment. with a few deft word strokes she painted a vivid picture of last evening's happenings at the conway house. then having aroused a wide-eyed interest in her story, she went on to tell of the adventure in uncle abe's cabin and the morning's experiences. "i am not trying to make trouble between you and mr. joyce," she ended, "but if you will help me to free that young gentleman--he must be either george or terry--you'll be doing a very fine thing and my father will see you come to no harm." "i'se 'spected fo' some time marse joyce wuz er bad man," said liza, "but i ain't askeert of him. wat you want i should do, miss do'thy?" "i just want you to tell me some things, liza. then you go on getting dinner and i'll see what i can do for my friend." "hadn't i better call in marse bill?" "no, not yet. if anything goes wrong in the house i want to have someone on the outside to phone for the police." she turned to liza. "do you know where mr. joyce and his men are now?" "yes, ma'am. marse joyce an' most of 'em done gone somewheres in de big car--left de house 'bout 'n hour ago." "how many are still here?" "two o' dose no-count white men is somewhere in de front part of de house. an' let me tell yo'all if dat white trash comes a-bustin' inter my kitchen agin, dey a-gwine ter git a rollin' pin bounced offen dere skulls!" "if you can't do it, liza--i will--" added uncle abe. "ho--how come i can't do it, abe? you jes' watch dis pickaninny. i'll bust 'em an' bust 'em good!" dorothy giggled. liza's description of herself as a pickaninny had upset her gravity for the moment. "i can see you're both going to be useful. but tell me, auntie--do you know where they're keeping this young man?" "he's in de blue room, missy. i done tote up his breakfas' to de do'. marse joyce give de odder two girls de day off, so i'se cook an' waitress an' chambermaid today. you run along, miss do'thy an' if dose cheap ivory rollers try ter git fresh--jes' holler fo' aunt liza--she'll bust 'em!" dorothy had started for the pantry when uncle abe sprang out of his chair and caught her arm. "'scuse me, missy," he apologized then went on eagerly--"i'se got er idee." "yes? what is it, uncle?" "dey's logs an' dey's kindlin' in der entry, missy. i done seen 'em when we come in. well, miss do'thy, you tote some kindlin'--an' i'll carry a couple er logs an'--" "fine! we'll do it!" dorothy's alert mind had grasped the plan before uncle abe's tongue could give utterance to it. "an' de bes' part of it is, honey," grinned liza, "dat all de rooms on dis flo' has fireplaces an' mos' of dem upstairs too. marse joyce, he's a crank on open fires." dorothy chuckled. "lucky break for us." she took a small armful of kindling that uncle abe held out to her. "yo'all better foller me," said the old darky, "i knows de way 'bout dis house, miss do'thy." he pushed open a swinging door and they slipped into a dining room, panelled in white pine. it was an attractive room and dorothy decided that despite his criminal traits, john j. joyce was a man of taste. uncle abe tiptoed across the room and paused in the doorway to the hall. "we better see who's downstairs befo' we goes up," he whispered, and trotted off along the corridor. he stopped at a closed door near the foot of the staircase and lifted his hand to knock. but before his knuckles had touched the panel, the heavy oak swung inward and they were confronted by the prizefighter whom dorothy had last seen heating a poker in the conway house. "'scuse us, suh. we'se bringin' wood fo' de fire." the big man glared at them for a moment. then apparently satisfied, he stepped aside. "o.k. thought i heard someone snoopin' around. dump those logs in the box and then get out." he paid no more attention to them. slouching stiffly in a big chair before the fire, he became immediately engrossed in the sunday paper. uncle abe dropped the logs into the woodbox, and dorothy knelt on the hearth and piled her kindling beside it. in rising to her feet her head brushed uncle abe's arm, knocking off the soft felt hat bill had loaned her. quick as a flash she retrieved it and thrust it back on her head. "a boy with a girl's bob!" dorothy turned sharply and found herself staring into the muzzle of an automatic. "stand right where you are," barked the big man, as he got up out of his chair. "and you too, dinge--" the revolver swerved for a second in abe's direction. "ol' man river and the girl, of course--we expected you to show up. the laugh's on you, all right. where's your boy friend?" "right here!" bill bolton stepped from behind the heavy window draperies, his revolver trained on the gangster's stomach. "drop that gun--drop it, or i'll drill you!" then as the automatic crashed to the floor, a smile spread over his tanned face. "and this time the laugh is on you, my friend," he added softly. "oh, _yeah_?" came a rasping voice from the hall doorway. "you drop _your_ rod, bo'--and stick 'em up! don't move--you're covered. now laugh that one off--ha-ha!" bill's gun fell to the floor and his hands rose slowly upwards. in the doorway stood the bald man--the other member that dorothy had spied on in the library of the conway house. chapter xvi the book the newcomer limped a couple of paces into the room. his left arm and one leg were swathed in bandages. "what price rock salt?" remarked bill pleasantly, still reaching toward the ceiling. despite her qualms, dorothy could not help smiling. the bald man's face became scarlet with fury. "another crack like that and i'll give you a taste of something harder than rock salt," her roared. "and when i get through with him that guy who was so free with his shotgun last night will wish he'd never been born!" bill ignored this outburst. "that gat was my only weapon," he announced without rancor. "this house is in new york state, so if you want to burn in sing sing, shoot--i'm tired of holding up my arms." he lowered his hands and thrust them into his trousers pockets. the bald man looked daggers but he did not pull the trigger. instead he turned on his partner. "why don't you do something, chick?" he growled. "you know i'm laid up--oughta be in bed right now, for that matter." "say, eddie," complained the burly fellow, "i'm stiff as a board myself--i got peppered all down my back and you know it." "aw, quit yer grousin'. you can still move around. tie 'em up and we'll dump 'em somewhere till the boss gets back." "yeah? an' what do we use fer rope?" eddie scratched his head with the butt of his revolver and hobbled over to an armchair. "stick that gat in yer pocket, chick," he ordered as he lowered himself carefully into the deep cushions. "i've got 'em covered. beat it into the kitchen--that fat dinge in there's got plenty of clothesline. help yerself and tell her i'll come in an' bump her off, if she gets nasty!" chick pocketed his revolver and started to walk stiffly across the room when liza's ample figure appeared in the doorway. in her hands she bore a wooden mixing bowl, brimming with cake batter. the whites of her eyes gleamed dangerously, as she glared at chick; then she waddled into the room and halted just behind eddie's chair. "i done heard what yo'all said jes' now, bald man--" she shook her head slowly from side to side and stared down at the gangster's hairless pate. "seems ter me you was talkin' 'bout bumpin' somebuddy!" with his gun covering the three prisoners, eddie was unable to look up at her. chick undoubtedly hailed liza's appearance as relief from the painful necessity of a walk to the kitchen. he sat down on the edge of a chair opposite eddie and scowled at her sourly. eddie took up the conversation with the angry woman behind him. "that's right, nigger," he chuckled hoarsely. "we want some clothesline, to tie up these here nuisances--an' if you don't cough some up right now--i'll bump you off, see?" "reckon you got your names mixed--" without warning liza brought the solid mixing bowl down upon his unprotected skull. eddie collapsed beneath the forceful blow and as he crumpled to the floor, liza flung the bowl and its contents in chick's face. then with an agility surprising in one so cumbersomely made, she catapulted herself at the astonished ruffian. over went his chair and they crashed in a tangled heap of broken furniture, waving legs and cake batter. bill broke into a roar of laughter, but dorothy wasted no time in being amused at this spectacle. she dove for bill's gun which eddie had not bothered to retrieve. she ran over the struggling pair on the floor and held the muzzle to chick's head. "stop fighting!" she commanded. "stop it at once--" chick sat up and tried to scrape the batter out of his eyes. "i ain't fightin'," he growled, "i'm half blind and i'm fair smothered. an' if me back ain't broke it oughter be! take that mack truck offen my legs--i can't move, much less put up a scrap!" "get up, liza!" dorothy had to smile at the fellow's plight. with bill's help she got the stout negress planted on her feet again. uncle abe stood guard with a poker over eddie. that glum gentleman was heralding his return to consciousness with the most remarkable series of coughing grunts. "this sure is the craziest rough house i ever got mixed up in," laughed bill. "old baldy over there sounds like a french pig rooting for truffles--" dorothy grinned absent-mindedly, her thoughts on the next move to be made. "we'll let dese two pigs burrer an' grunt down cellar," declared liza, straightening her turban and smoothing down her apron. "dere's a empty storeroom down dere--it's got a strong door an' a good bolt, too. gimme a gun, please miss dor'thy. me an' uncle abe can 'tend ter dis white trash." the negress walked over to eddie, who stared about the room, a dazed expression on his face. "git up an' come along." then as eddie continued to look at her vacantly, she picked him up as if he were a baby and draped him over her broad shoulders. "yo'all go first, liza," said uncle abe. he prodded chick with the gun he had taken from her. "him an' me'll be right behin'." dorothy and bill watched the odd procession pass from the room. "whew!" she exclaimed. "that was a hectic five minutes. but how did you happen to be in here?" "got tired of sticking round outside, so slipped in by that window. eddie was asleep at the time, but he woke up right afterward. then you and uncle abe walked in--and you know the rest. say, it must be terry these guys nabbed. wonder what's become of stoker and betty?" "heaven only knows," said dorothy wearily. "i'll go up and let terry out and i think the best thing you can do is to phone the state police. with terry here, we've got enough on mr. john j. joyce to hold him, now." "we sure have. wonder what the j in john j. joyce stands for?" "well, it will stand for jay, jonah and jinx all in one, _if_ you get the police here before he comes back and sets his men free. by the way, i may be going coo-coo with all this, but it seems to me that i keep hearing shots every now and then. there's another--hear it?" "somebody's probably potting bunnies in the woods." bill seemed unconcerned. "i noticed it just after i got in here. beat it upstairs now, and i'll hunt up a telephone." dorothy found the room where terry was held prisoner by the simple expedient of opening each door as she came to it. the fourth door was locked, but the key was on the outside. it was no surprise to her, upon opening it, to see her friend lying on the bed. a quick glance showed dorothy that both windows were barred. terry sprang up with a glad cry. "it's sure good to see _you_!" he gave her a good-natured hug. "how in the world did you manage this?" dorothy told him as briefly as possible. "what i want to know," she said in conclusion, "is how they happened to catch you napping--and what's become of george conway and betty?" "they didn't catch me napping," terry retorted. "you and bill had been gone about an hour and i expected stoker back from taking betty home any minute. a ford drove into the garage, there was a bang on the door and a voice sang out--'let me in. it's george.' well, i opened up and--" "it wasn't george--" supplied dorothy, as usual going straight to the point. "joyce and his men nabbed you, of course. that's plain enough. but where are betty and george?" "search me." bill burst into the room and stood breathless before them. "did you get the police?" asked dorothy. "got headquarters all right. but what do you think's happened?" "spill it, bill. this is no guessing bee," said terry. "the sergeant told me they'd had a phone call from lewis. the old man was frantic. joyce and his gang were trying to break into his house. the whole caboodle from headquarters are up there now, rounding up john j. joyce and company." "that accounts for the shots we heard," cried dorothy. "get on your rubbers, terry. we're going to hike over to mr. lewis's place right now. i want to be in at the finish." "and i," added bill, "want to find out what this mess is about!" they raced downstairs and stopping only long enough to tell liza and uncle abe of this new development, set off for the lewis property adjoining. following hasty directions given them by the darkies, they hurried along a path which led them to a gate in a high wall. the gate was not locked and they continued along the path which crossed the lewis estate. presently the dim shape of a large white house appeared through the mist. "halt!" a gruff voice arrested them as they were about to ascend the steps at the side entrance. a state trooper barred their way. "who are you--and what do you want?" "we are friends of mr. lewis," said dorothy. she explained the circumstances of their arrival. "well, we've just sent joyce and his men to the lockup. the whole crew of 'em. we corralled 'em proper. they'd busted into the house, you know, and it sure would have been a mixup if this fly cop that horned in on the joyce bunch hadn't clapped his gat to joyce's head and held up their game until we got here." "oh, that must have been michael michaels--the private inquiry agent who came to uncle abe's last night," said bill. "we'd like to go in the house, officer." "o.k. with me. there's some kind of a pow-wow goin' on in the living room. i'll take you in there." he opened the door and led them across the square hall into the living room. here they found a surprise awaiting them. "betty! george!" cried dorothy. she flew across the room to her friend. "i'm so glad you're safe. how did you get here?" "oh, darling! it's too exciting for words!" gurgled betty as they hugged each other. "and george was so brave--he--" "mr. lewis and his chauffeur stopped our lizzie last night," broke in stoker. "told us joyce and his men were likely to hold us up down the road. so we left the ford and came over here with mr. lewis. and we've been here ever since." "listen, george!" said that old gentleman, and both girls giggled. "hadn't you better introduce your friends? this young lady in overalls is miss dixon, i take it?" "she certainly is," smiled stoker and performed the necessary introductions. the other men in the room proved to be michael michaels and an inspector of the state police. for a few minutes everybody seemed to be talking at once. bill told george and mr. lewis of his adventures with dorothy, while terry explained his capture by the joyce gang to the inspector and michaels. "listen!" said dorothy and threw a reproving glance at the others' unsuppressed smiles--"will somebody please tell me what mr. joyce has been trying to steal from stoker?" "why, that's so," interjected mr. lewis, "you have no idea, of course--" "no, except that it's probably mixed up with that book, _aircraft power plants_, i think it's called--" the old gentleman looked at her in unfeigned astonishment. "listen, michaels!" he cried. "she says this business is connected with that book. pretty good guess, eh?" "certainly is," returned the detective. "but the book is a mystery in itself, and one we haven't yet solved." "but what _was_ joyce after?" interrupted bill with a show of impatience. "the plans, of course," said stoker conway. "but what plans?" "the plans of my father's new aircraft engine. i knew nothing about it until mr. lewis told me last night." "where are the plans, and what has the book to do with them?" broke in dorothy. "listen, young lady," began mr. lewis, when michaels the detective stopped him with a gesture. "better let me tell them, sir," he suggested. "these young people have a right to know." the old gentleman nodded approval and the detective, after biting off the end of a cigar, continued to talk while the others grouped about him. "about two weeks ago," he said, "mr. lewis called at my new york office. there he told me the following story. six weeks before his death, mr. conway came over here and told mr. lewis that he had perfected plans for an aircraft motor which would develop very high power on a very small consumption of gasoline." "that's just what all the inventors are after now," interposed bill. "why, i should say so!" cried dorothy. "if _wispy's_ motor didn't lap up the gas like a thirsty camel, i'd never have been forced to land in that woodlot yesterday afternoon!" "all very interesting, i'm sure--" terry's voice was sarcastic. "but do let's hear what mr. michaels is trying to tell us!" "that's all right," smiled the detective. "let's see--where was i? oh, yes, the motor: well, the inventor told mr. lewis that his partner and sales agent had ruined him financially, and that now he was convinced that he'd been swindled, and that joyce was a crook. mr. lewis suggested mr. conway take the matter to the courts, and offered to advance money for legal expenses. mr. conway said he hadn't sufficient evidence for a case; that joyce had covered his tracks too well. then he spoke about the plans for this new motor he'd just completed. he said that joyce knew about it and was trying to get control of the thing; but that outside of stealing the plans outright, joyce could do nothing, as the partnership had been dissolved. and at the same time he told mr. lewis that he knew he was suffering from an incurable disease and could live but a few months longer at most." "listen, michaels--let me tell it," interrupted old lewis. "you are wandering all over the place.... your father, george, said that should he have the new motor built, joyce would undoubtedly make trouble, and he, conway, wanted to die in peace. he told me he was going to entrust me with the plans and would send them to me after he had made some slight changes in them. and he said that he would send me his check to cover the expense of building and exploiting the engine. 'after i'm gone, you attend to it for george,' he said. 'that boy has no mechanical ability, and he's too young to market a thing like this motor. joyce or other wolves like him would rob him of it in twenty four hours.' and that, was the last time i saw john conway alive." the old gentleman pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose violently. "he wouldn't see me when i called, nor would he mention the plans over the phone. he died while i was in boston on business. when i got back the next day, i found a package from him waiting for me. of course, i thought it would contain the plans and his check. when i opened it up i found nothing but a book--_aircraft power plants_, by a man named jones. i was naturally surprised, and searched its pages from cover to cover, but found no papers of any kind. i've even read every word of it since then. and its pages have been tested for invisible ink. but i've had my trouble and pains for nothing." "i wonder why father didn't tell me of those plans?" george remarked rather wistfully. "that i can't explain, my boy. as you know now, i thought you had them. either that you had removed them from the book before it left your house, or that your father had changed his mind and given them to you. anyway, i decided to await developments. nothing happened until joyce, who had been in europe since conway's death, returned home a couple of weeks ago. he came to see me and asked me outright if i knew anything about conway's airplane motor plans. i never liked nor trusted joyce, but i saw no harm in telling him the truth. for of course i figured that george must have set the wheels in motion for the sale of the motor long before. joyce could do nothing about it at this late date." "but to my astonishment, the man told me the motor had not been marketed--that he would have heard if any company had bought it. 'either that boy's got the plans,' he said, 'or conway had two copies of the book and sent you the wrong one--' i didn't understand how the book came into it and told him so. 'conway always sent important papers through the mail by placing them between the pages of a book,' he assured me. 'thought they would travel safer that way.' "well, he changed the subject then, and left. i got nervous about what i'd told him, and hired michaels to watch the fellow. michaels dug up a lot of things about joyce, and managed to get himself placed on his staff of roughnecks. if he could have been in two places at once, all this trouble over at the conway house last night would never have come off." dorothy spoke from her place on the couch beside betty. "how did you happen to go there last night?" "i wanted to find out if george really had another copy of the book. later i learned from michaels that joyce's men had tried to torture the boy into telling them where the plans were--and that then he intended to kidnap him. i was on my way over there to warn him when we met on the road. he wanted to put young walters wise, but i was sure the joyce gang wouldn't hurt his friend. i had promised michaels not to go ahead on my own hook until i saw him. perhaps i was wrong, but i did what i thought was best for george's interests. i've heard since that they just about tore the house apart, looking for the other copy of that book!" "do you happen to have the copy that was sent you, here in the house?" asked dorothy. "yes--right here, on the table." michaels handed it to her. dorothy pored over the book for a few minutes, then laid it down. "mr. lewis, do you mind if i take it home with me?" "why, of course not--keep it as long as you wish." "thanks," she smiled. "now, you gentlemen want to plan about what to do with joyce and co., and bill and i have some gas to buy and a plane to fly home. so i'll say _au revoir_ for the present!" chapter xvii the test on a morning some three months later, the private flying field on the bolton place was the mecca of a considerable portion of new canaan's population. the ridge road and the surrounding meadows were jammed with cars that flaunted license plates of a dozen different states. although the december sun shone brightly in a cobalt sky, the crowd shivered and stamped on the frozen ground for the winter air was icy. all eyes were turned upward toward an airplane, high above their heads, which swept the sky in immense, horizontal circles. a small group of people bundled in heavy fur coats stood and chatted by the open doors of the hangar. "i almost wish they'd come down," said george conway. "they must be half-dead for want of sleep, and they've already beaten the world's record by hours. it must be a terrific strain, especially for dorothy." "oh," cried betty mayo. "isn't she marvelous?--and bill, too!" "they're a pair of young idiots!" growled old mr. lewis, whose false teeth were chattering. "but i must admit they're first class sportsmen to stay up all this time for a friend!" "you said it." declared terry walters, and glanced at his wrist watch. "in exactly one minute, they'll have been up one hundred and one hours, without refueling. gosh, it's wonderful! that motor of your father's is some humdinger, stoker!" "why, it's simply adorable!" betty was brimming over with excitement. "and i just can't help being glad that that horrid mr. joyce and his men are being sent to sing sing for years and years and years! it's too--" "here they come!" the crowd yelled and roared and swarmed toward the roped-off enclosure. sure enough--at last the big plane was spiralling downward. it landed lightly on the frozen ground and bowled across the field. the crowd surged in, but there was no sign of life, no movement about the plane. mechanics jerked open the door, and there, side by side, grimy, worn, unkempt, were dorothy dixon and bill bolton, sleeping like children! somehow they were taken into the bolton's house and put to bed, where they continued to sleep for twelve hours, while certain anxious gentlemen waited about, impatiently demanding interviews. the pair eventually looked up from quantities of ham and eggs in the dining room, to greet their visitors. "now, i want to talk business," said the portly man who led the van. "mr. conway will not discuss the matter. he refers me to you--" "oh, you can talk to her," said bill. he motioned to dorothy. "she's run this show from start to finish." "and what," asked the portly gentleman, coming at once to the point, "will you take for that motor, miss dixon?" "hmmm--a hundred hours, without refueling," remarked dorothy, thoughtfully buttering a slice of toast. "i hope you've given that some thought." "i have given it several thoughts. name a price." "a million," said dorothy. "dollars?" bill kicked her under the table. "pounds, certainly," said dorothy. "i went to england last year, and after i learned how to figure their complicated money, i've never been able to unlearn it!" she smiled benignly upon the company. bill nodded. "dorothy's some little bargainer, ain't she?" he said delightedly, with his mouth full. "give you a million dollars," said the portly gentleman. "give up your place," said dorothy, "and let some of these other gentlemen into the game." "a million and a half," said the portly gentleman, edging closer to the table. "make it two million and you win." "done!" "thank you," smiled dorothy. "now please make the check payable to george conway." the gentlemen filed out of the room. "gee, you're a whizbang, dorothy!" bill exploded as soon as they were alone. "some christmas present for stoker!" "you're not so bad yourself," laughed the girl. "that kick of yours was worth just a million dollars!" five minutes later, the kitchen door of the bolton's house was flung open and a black face crowned with an aureole of woolly hair peered in. "has yo'all heard de news, liza?" panted uncle abe in great excitement. "g'wan home, niggah, i'ze busy makin' waffle fo' de chilluns," retorted the bolton's cook. "golly, but dey sure is hungry!" "miss dorothy done sol' dat motah fo' two million dollars. i wuz stickin' roun' outside an' done hear de gen'men talkin' 'bout it." "lan's sakes, but dat a pile er money," said liza pouring batter on to the hot waffle iron. "how come marse bill was able ter build dat engin'? i thought dat de plans was lost?" "you sho' has a one-track mind, liza," uncle abe observed contemptuously. "and dat track spells nuthin' but kitchen. my young missy _found_ dem plans! she beat all dose big detecatives to it!" "do tell! whar was dey?" "in er book, liza." "shucks, i done heard 'bout de book. dey warn't no plans inside it." "huh! dey sho wuz, too!" "whar dey at?" "miss dor'thy done took er knife an' ripped dat book erpart! dat little lady is de quality, an' she sure am smart. de plans was on thin paper, pasted in de back whar de leaves o' de book am sewed togedder." "do tell!" liza shook her head. "but what i nevah did un'erstan' wuz why marse joyce tried ter kidnap de other boys and girls." "liza, you sho' is dumb. it all come out in de trial. firs' marse joyce think marse george know 'bout de plans, so his men try ter make him tell. den when miss dor'thy busted up dat party, he know dat de other chilluns would sho' crab his game if dey wuz let loose ter tell 'bout it." "abe, you is crazy! how dat man goin' ter keep all dose young folks locked in his house while he try to sell dem plans? de police sure find dem befo' he's able ter do dat!" "no. liza, you's wrong agin. marse joyce knew a lot about dem plans. marse conway had done tol' him consider'ble about dem, and marse joyce done tell de rooshians what marse conway tell him. de rooshians say dey give him a heap of money jes' as soon as he build dat engine." "an' marse joyce figured he'd beat it to rooshia jes' as soon as he could put his han's on de plans?" said liza. "dat's right--" nodded the old darky. "you ain't quite ez dumb ez yo' looks, niggah. an' de way marse george is a-hangin' roun' miss betty--" "yo'all talks too much," liza cut him short. "lan' sakes! gossipin' at yo' age! tote dis hyar plate of hot waffles inter der dinin' room. de young folks am hungry!" the end * * * * * dorothy's further adventures will be found in the fourth book of this series, dorothy dixon and the double cousin. on books and the housing of them by william ewart gladstone ( - ) in the old age of his intellect (which at this point seemed to taste a little of decrepitude), strauss declared [ ] that the doctrine of immortality has recently lost the assistance of a passable argument, inasmuch as it has been discovered that the stars are inhabited; for where, he asks, could room now be found for such a multitude of souls? again, in view of the current estimates of prospective population for this earth, some people have begun to entertain alarm for the probable condition of england (if not great britain) when she gets (say) seventy millions that are allotted to her against six or eight hundred millions for the united states. we have heard in some systems of the pressure of population upon food; but the idea of any pressure from any quarter upon space is hardly yet familiar. still, i suppose that many a reader must have been struck with the naive simplicity of the hyperbole of st. john, [ ] perhaps a solitary unit of its kind in the new testament: "the which if they should be written every one, i suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written." a book, even audubon (i believe the biggest known), is smaller than a man; but, in relation to space, i entertain more proximate apprehension of pressure upon available space from the book population than from the numbers of mankind. we ought to recollect, with more of a realized conception than we commonly attain to, that a book consists, like a man, from whom it draws its lineage, of a body and a soul. they are not always proportionate to each other. nay, even the different members of the book-body do not sing, but clash, when bindings of a profuse costliness are imposed, as too often happens in the case of bibles and books of devotion, upon letter-press which is respectable journeyman's work and nothing more. the men of the renascence had a truer sense of adaptation; the age of jewelled bindings was also the age of illumination and of the beautiful miniatura, which at an earlier stage meant side or margin art,[ ] and then, on account of the small portraitures included in it, gradually slid into the modern sense of miniature. there is a caution which we ought to carry with us more and more as we get in view of the coming period of open book trade, and of demand practically boundless. noble works ought not to be printed in mean and worthless forms, and cheapness ought to be limited by an instinctive sense and law of fitness. the binding of a book is the dress with which it walks out into the world. the paper, type and ink are the body, in which its soul is domiciled. and these three, soul, body, and habilament, are a triad which ought to be adjusted to one another by the laws of harmony and good sense. already the increase of books is passing into geometrical progression. and this is not a little remarkable when we bear in mind that in great britain, of which i speak, while there is a vast supply of cheap works, what are termed "new publications" issue from the press, for the most part, at prices fabulously high, so that the class of real purchasers has been extirpated, leaving behind as buyers only a few individuals who might almost be counted on the fingers, while the effective circulation depends upon middle-men through the engine of circulating libraries. these are not so much owners as distributers of books, and they mitigate the difficulty of dearness by subdividing the cost, and then selling such copies as are still in decent condition at a large reduction. it is this state of things, due, in my opinion, principally to the present form of the law of copyright, which perhaps may have helped to make way for the satirical (and sometimes untrue) remark that in times of distress or pressure men make their first economies on their charities, and their second on their books. the annual arrivals at the bodleian library are, i believe, some twenty thousand; at the british museum, forty thousand, sheets of all kinds included. supposing three-fourths of these to be volumes, of one size or another, and to require on the average an inch of shelf space, the result will be that in every two years nearly a mile of new shelving will be required to meet the wants of a single library. but, whatever may be the present rate of growth, it is small in comparison with what it is likely to become. the key of the question lies in the hands of the united kingdom and the united states jointly. in this matter there rests upon these two powers no small responsibility. they, with their vast range of inhabited territory, and their unity of tongue, are masters of the world, which will have to do as they do. when the britains and america are fused into one book market; when it is recognized that letters, which as to their material and their aim are a high-soaring profession, as to their mere remuneration are a trade; when artificial fetters are relaxed, and printers, publishers, and authors obtain the reward which well-regulated commerce would afford them, then let floors beware lest they crack, and walls lest they bulge and burst, from the weight of books they will have to carry and to confine. it is plain, for one thing, that under the new state of things specialism, in the future, must more and more abound. but specialism means subdivision of labor; and with subdivision labor ought to be more completely, more exactly, performed. let us bow our heads to the inevitable; the day of encyclopaedic learning has gone by. it may perhaps be said that that sun set with leibnitz. but as little learning is only dangerous when it forgets that it is little, so specialism is only dangerous when it forgets that it is special. when it encroaches on its betters, when it claims exceptional certainty or honor, it is impertinent, and should be rebuked; but it has its own honor in its own province, and is, in any case, to be preferred to pretentious and flaunting sciolism. a vast, even a bewildering prospect is before us, for evil or for good; but for good, unless it be our own fault, far more than for evil. books require no eulogy from me; none could be permitted me, when they already draw their testimonials from cicero[ ] and macaulay.[ ] but books are the voices of the dead. they are a main instrument of communion with the vast human procession of the other world. they are the allies of the thought of man. they are in a certain sense at enmity with the world. their work is, at least, in the two higher compartments of our threefold life. in a room well filled with them, no one has felt or can feel solitary. second to none, as friends to the individual, they are first and foremost among the compages, the bonds and rivets of the race, onward from that time when they were first written on the tablets of babylonia and assyria, the rocks of asia minor, and the monuments of egypt, down to the diamond editions of mr. pickering and mr. frowde.[ ] it is in truth difficult to assign dimensions for the libraries of the future. and it is also a little touching to look back upon those of the past. as the history of bodies cannot, in the long run, be separated from the history of souls, i make no apology for saying a few words on the libraries which once were, but which have passed away. the time may be approaching when we shall be able to estimate the quantity of book knowledge stored in the repositories of those empires which we call prehistoric. for the present, no clear estimate even of the great alexandrian libraries has been brought within the circle of popular knowledge; but it seems pretty clear that the books they contained were reckoned, at least in the aggregate, by hundreds of thousands.[ ] the form of the book, however, has gone through many variations; and we moderns have a great advantage in the shape which the exterior has now taken. it speaks to us symbolically by the title on its back, as the roll of parchment could hardly do. it is established that in roman times the bad institution of slavery ministered to a system under which books were multiplied by simultaneous copying in a room where a single person read aloud in the hearing of many the volume to be reproduced, and that so produced they were relatively cheap. had they not been so, they would hardly have been, as horace represents them, among the habitual spoils of the grocer.[ ] it is sad, and is suggestive of many inquiries, that this abundance was followed, at least in the west, by a famine of more than a thousand years. and it is hard, even after all allowances, to conceive that of all the many manuscripts of homer which italy must have possessed we do not know that a single parchment or papyrus was ever read by a single individual, even in a convent, or even by a giant such as dante, or as thomas acquinas, the first of them unquestionably master of all the knowledge that was within the compass of his age. there were, however, libraries even in the west, formed by charlemagne and by others after him. we are told that alcuin, in writing to the great monarch, spoke with longing of the relative wealth of england in these precious estates. mr. edwards, whom i have already quoted, mentions charles the fifth of france, in , as a collector of manuscripts. but some ten years back the director of the bibliotheque nationale informed me that the french king john collected twelve hundred manuscripts, at that time an enormous library, out of which several scores were among the treasures in his care. mary of medicis appears to have amassed in the sixteenth century, probably with far less effort, , volumes.[ ] oxford had before that time received noble gifts for her university library. and we have to recollect with shame and indignation that that institution was plundered and destroyed by the commissioners of the boy king edward the sixth, acting in the name of the reformation of religion. thus it happened that opportunity was left to a private individual, the munificent sir thomas bodley, to attach an individual name to one of the famous libraries of the world. it is interesting to learn that municipal bodies have a share in the honor due to monasteries and sovereigns in the collection of books; for the common council of aix purchased books for a public library in .[ ] louis the fourteenth, of evil memory, has at least this one good deed to his credit, that he raised the royal library at paris, founded two centuries before, to , volumes. in it had , volumes. it profited largely by the revolution. the british museum had only reached , when panizzi became keeper in . nineteen years afterward he left it with , , a number which must now have more than doubled. by his noble design for occupying the central quadrangle, a desert of gravel until his time, he provided additional room for , , volumes. all this apparently enormous space for development is being eaten up with fearful rapidity; and such is the greed of the splendid library that it opens its jaws like hades, and threatens shortly to expel the antiquities from the building, and appropriate the places they adorn. but the proper office of hasty retrospect in a paper like this is only to enlarge by degrees, like the pupil of an eye, the reader's contemplation and estimate of the coming time, and to prepare him for some practical suggestions of a very humble kind. so i take up again the thread of my brief discourse. national libraries draw upon a purse which is bottomless. but all public libraries are not national. and the case even of private libraries is becoming, nay, has become, very serious for all who are possessed by the inexorable spirit of collection, but whose ardor is perplexed and qualified, or even baffled, by considerations springing from the balance-sheet. the purchase of a book is commonly supposed to end, even for the most scrupulous customer, with the payment of the bookseller's bill. but this is a mere popular superstition. such payment is not the last, but the first term in a series of goodly length. if we wish to give to the block a lease of life equal to that of the pages, the first condition is that it should be bound. so at least one would have said half a century ago. but, while books are in the most instances cheaper, binding, from causes which i do not understand, is dearer, at least in england, than it was in my early years, so that few can afford it.[ ] we have, however, the tolerable and very useful expedient of cloth binding (now in some danger, i fear, of losing its modesty through flaring ornamentation) to console us. well, then, bound or not, the book must of necessity be put into a bookcase. and the bookcase must be housed. and the house must be kept. and the library must be dusted, must be arranged, should be catalogued. what a vista of toil, yet not unhappy toil! unless indeed things are to be as they now are in at least one princely mansion of this country, where books, in thousands upon thousands, are jumbled together with no more arrangement than a sack of coals; where not even the sisterhood of consecutive volumes has been respected; where undoubtedly an intending reader may at the mercy of fortune take something from the shelves that is a book; but where no particular book can except by the purest accident, be found. such being the outlook, what are we to do with our books? shall we be buried under them like tarpeia under the sabine shields? shall we renounce them (many will, or will do worse, will keep to the most worthless part of them) in our resentment against their more and more exacting demands? shall we sell and scatter them? as it is painful to see how often the books of eminent men are ruthlessly, or at least unhappily, dispersed on their decease. without answering in detail, i shall assume that the book-buyer is a book-lover, that his love is a tenacious, not a transitory love, and that for him the question is how best to keep his books. i pass over those conditions which are the most obvious, that the building should be sound and dry, the apartment airy, and with abundant light. and i dispose with a passing anathema of all such as would endeavour to solve their problem, or at any rate compromise their difficulties, by setting one row of books in front of another. i also freely admit that what we have before us is not a choice between difficulty and no difficulty, but a choice among difficulties. the objects further to be contemplated in the bestowal of our books, so far as i recollect, are three: economy, good arrangement, and accessibility with the smallest possible expenditure of time. in a private library, where the service of books is commonly to be performed by the person desiring to use them, they ought to be assorted and distributed according to subject. the case may be altogether different where they have to be sent for and brought by an attendant. it is an immense advantage to bring the eye in aid of the mind; to see within a limited compass all the works that are accessible, in a given library, on a given subject; and to have the power of dealing with them collectively at a given spot, instead of hunting them up through an entire accumulation. it must be admitted, however, that distribution by subjects ought in some degree to be controlled by sizes. if everything on a given subject, from folio down to mo, is to be brought locally together, there will be an immense waste of space in the attempt to lodge objects of such different sizes in one and the same bookcase. and this waste of space will cripple us in the most serious manner, as will be seen with regard to the conditions of economy and of accessibility. the three conditions are in truth all connected together, but especially the two last named. even in a paper such as this the question of classification cannot altogether be overlooked; but it is one more easy to open than to close--one upon which i am not bold enough to hope for uniformity of opinion and of practice. i set aside on the one hand the case of great public libraries, which i leave to the experts of those establishments. and, at the other end of the scale, in small private libraries the matter becomes easy or even insignificant. in libraries of the medium scale, not too vast for some amount of personal survey, some would multiply subdivision, and some restrain it. an acute friend asks me under what and how many general headings subjects should be classified in a library intended for practical use and reading, and boldly answers by suggesting five classes only: ( ) science, ( ) speculation, ( ) art, ( ) history, and ( ) miscellaneous and periodical literature. but this seemingly simple division at once raises questions both of practical and of theoretic difficulty. as to the last, periodical literature is fast attaining to such magnitude, that it may require a classification of its own, and that the enumeration which indexes supply, useful as it is, will not suffice. and i fear it is the destiny of periodicals as such to carry down with them a large proportion of what, in the phraseology of railways, would be called dead weight, as compared with live weight. the limits of speculation would be most difficult to draw. the diversities included under science would be so vast as at once to make sub-classification a necessity. the ologies are by no means well suited to rub shoulders together; and sciences must include arts, which are but country cousins to them, or a new compartment must be established for their accommodation. once more, how to cope with the everlasting difficulty of 'works'? in what category to place dante, petrarch, swedenborg, burke, coleridge, carlyle, or a hundred more? where, again, is poetry to stand? i apprehend that it must take its place, the first place without doubt, in art; for while it is separated from painting and her other 'sphere-born harmonious sisters' by their greater dependence on material forms they are all more inwardly and profoundly united in their first and all-enfolding principle, which is to organize the beautiful for presentation to the perceptions of man. but underneath all particular criticism of this or that method of classification will be found to lie a subtler question--whether the arrangement of a library ought not in some degree to correspond with and represent the mind of the man who forms it. for my own part, i plead guilty, within certain limits, of favoritism in classification. i am sensible that sympathy and its reverse have something to do with determining in what company a book shall stand. and further, does there not enter into the matter a principle of humanity to the authors themselves? ought we not to place them, so far as may be, in the neighborhood which they would like? their living manhoods are printed in their works. every reality, every tendency, endures. eadem sequitur tellure sepultos. i fear that arrangement, to be good, must be troublesome. subjects are traversed by promiscuous assemblages of 'works;' both by sizes; and all by languages. on the whole i conclude as follows. the mechanical perfection of a library requires an alphabetical catalogue of the whole. but under the shadow of this catalogue let there be as many living integers as possible, for every well-chosen subdivision is a living integer and makes the library more and more an organism. among others i plead for individual men as centres of subdivision: not only for homer, dante, shakespeare, but for johnson, scott, and burns, and whatever represents a large and manifold humanity. the question of economy, for those who from necessity or choice consider it at all, is a very serious one. it has been a fashion to make bookcases highly ornamental. now books want for and in themselves no ornament at all. they are themselves the ornament. just as shops need no ornament, and no one will think of or care for any structural ornament, if the goods are tastefully disposed in the shop-window. the man who looks for society in his books will readily perceive that, in proportion as the face of his bookcase is occupied by ornament, he loses that society; and conversely, the more that face approximates to a sheet of bookbacks, the more of that society he will enjoy. and so it is that three great advantages come hand in hand, and, as will be seen, reach their maximum together: the sociability of books, minimum of cost in providing for them, and ease of access to them. in order to attain these advantages, two conditions are fundamental. first, the shelves must, as a rule, be fixed; secondly, the cases, or a large part of them, should have their side against the wall, and thus, projecting into the room for a convenient distance, they should be of twice the depth needed for a single line of books, and should hold two lines, one facing each way. twelve inches is a fair and liberal depth for two rows of octavos. the books are thus thrown into stalls, but stalls after the manner of a stable, or of an old-fashioned coffee-room; not after the manner of a bookstall, which, as times go, is no stall at all, but simply a flat space made by putting some scraps of boarding together, and covering them with books. this method of dividing the longitudinal space by projections at right angles to it, if not very frequently used, has long been known. a great example of it is to be found in the noble library of trinity college, cambridge, and is the work of sir christopher wren. he has kept these cases down to very moderate height, for he doubtless took into account that great heights require long ladders, and that the fetching and use of these greatly add to the time consumed in getting or in replacing a book. on the other hand, the upper spaces of the walls are sacrificed, whereas in dublin, all souls, and many other libraries the bookcases ascend very high, and magnificent apartments walled with books may in this way be constructed. access may be had to the upper portions by galleries; but we cannot have stairs all round the room, and even with one gallery of books a room should not be more than from sixteen to eighteen feet high if we are to act on the principle of bringing the largest possible number of volumes into the smallest possible space. i am afraid it must be admitted that we cannot have a noble and imposing spectacle, in a vast apartment, without sacrificing economy and accessibility; and vice versa. the projections should each have attached to them what i rudely term an endpiece (for want of a better name), that is, a shallow and extremely light adhering bookcase (light by reason of the shortness of the shelves), which both increases the accommodation, and makes one short side as well as the two long ones of the parallelopiped to present simply a face of books with the lines of shelf, like threads, running between the rows. the wall-spaces between the projections ought also to be turned to account for shallow bookcases, so far as they are not occupied by windows. if the width of the interval be two feet six, about sixteen inches of this may be given to shallow cases placed against the wall. economy of space is in my view best attained by fixed shelves. this dictum i will now endeavor to make good. if the shelves are movable, each shelf imposes a dead weight on the structure of the bookcase, without doing anything to support it. hence it must be built with wood of considerable mass, and the more considerable the mass of wood the greater are both the space occupied and the ornament needed. when the shelf is fixed, it contributes as a fastening to hold the parts of the bookcase together; and a very long experience enables me to say that shelves of from half- to three-quarters of an inch worked fast into uprights of from three-quarters to a full inch will amply suffice for all sizes of books except large and heavy folios, which would probably require a small, and only a small, addition of thickness. i have recommended that as a rule the shelves be fixed, and have given reasons for the adoption of such a rule. i do not know whether it will receive the sanction of authorities. and i make two admissions. first, it requires that each person owning and arranging a library should have a pretty accurate general knowledge of the sizes of his books. secondly, it may be expedient to introduce here and there, by way of exception, a single movable shelf; and this, i believe, will be found to afford a margin sufficient to meet occasional imperfections in the computation of sizes. subject to these remarks, i have considerable confidence in the recommendation i have made. i will now exhibit to my reader the practical effect of such arrangement, in bringing great numbers of books within easy reach. let each projection be three feet long, twelve inches deep (ample for two faces of octavos), and nine feet high, so that the upper shelf can be reached by the aid of a wooden stool of two steps not more than twenty inches high, and portable without the least effort in a single hand. i will suppose the wall space available to be eight feet, and the projections, three in number, with end pieces need only jut out three feet five, while narrow strips of bookcase will run up the wall between the projections. under these conditions, the bookcases thus described will carry above , octavo volumes. and a library forty feet long and twenty feet broad, amply lighted, having some portion of the centre fitted with very low bookcases suited to serve for some of the uses of tables, will receive on the floor from , to , volumes of all sizes, without losing the appearance of a room or assuming that of a warehouse, and while leaving portions of space available near the windows for purposes of study. if a gallery be added, there will be accommodation for a further number of five thousand, and the room need be no more than sixteen feet high. but a gallery is not suitable for works above the octavo size, on account of inconvenience in carriage to and fro. it has been admitted that in order to secure the vital purpose of compression with fixed shelving, the rule of arrangement according to subjects must be traversed partially by division into sizes. this division, however, need not, as to the bulk of the library, be more than threefold. the main part would be for octavos. this is becoming more and more the classical or normal size; so that nowadays the octavo edition is professionally called the library edition. then there should be deeper cases for quarto and folio, and shallower for books below octavo, each appropriately divided into shelves. if the economy of time by compression is great, so is the economy of cost. i think it reasonable to take the charge of provision for books in a gentleman's house, and in the ordinary manner, at a shilling a volume. this may vary either way, but it moderately represents, i think, my own experience, in london residences, of the charge of fitting up with bookcases, which, if of any considerable size, are often unsuitable for removal. the cost of the method which i have adopted later in life, and have here endeavored to explain, need not exceed one penny per volume. each bookcase when filled represents, unless in exceptional cases, nearly a solid mass. the intervals are so small that, as a rule, they admit a very small portion of dust. if they are at a tolerable distance from the fireplace, if carpeting be avoided except as to small movable carpets easily removed for beating, and if sweeping be discreetly conducted, dust may, at any rate in the country, be made to approach to a quantite negligeable. it is a great matter, in addition to other advantages, to avoid the endless trouble and the miscarriages of movable shelves; the looseness, and the tightness, the weary arms, the aching fingers, and the broken fingernails. but it will be fairly asked what is to be done, when the shelves are fixed, with volumes too large to go into them? i admit that the dilemma, when it occurs, is formidable. i admit also that no book ought to be squeezed or even coaxed into its place: they should move easily both in and out. and i repeat here that the plan i have recommended requires a pretty exact knowledge by measurement of the sizes of books and the proportions in which the several sizes will demand accommodation. the shelf-spacing must be reckoned beforehand, with a good deal of care and no little time. but i can say from experience that by moderate care and use this knowledge can be attained, and that the resulting difficulties, when measured against the aggregate of convenience, are really insignificant. it will be noticed that my remarks are on minute details, and that they savor more of serious handiwork in the placing of books than of lordly survey and direction. but what man who really loves his books delegates to any other human being, as long as there is breath in his body, the office of inducting them into their homes? and now as to results. it is something to say that in this way , volumes can be placed within a room of quite ordinary size, all visible, all within easy reach, and without destroying the character of the apartment as a room. but, on the strength of a case with which i am acquainted, i will even be a little more particular. i take as before a room of forty feet in length and twenty in breadth, thoroughly lighted by four windows on each side; as high as you please, but with only about nine feet of height taken for the bookcases: inasmuch as all heavy ladders, all adminicula requiring more than one hand to carry with care, are forsworn. and there is no gallery. in the manner i have described, there may be placed on the floor of such a room, without converting it from a room into a warehouse, bookcases capable of receiving, in round numbers, , volumes. the state of the case, however, considered as a whole, and especially with reference to libraries exceeding say , or , volumes, and gathering rapid accretions, has been found to require in extreme cases, such as those of the british museum and the bodleian (on its limited site), a change more revolutionary in its departure from, almost reversal of, the ancient methods, than what has been here described. the best description i can give of its essential aim, so far as i have seen the processes (which were tentative and initial), is this. the masses represented by filled bookcases are set one in front of another; and, in order that access may be had as it is required, they are set upon trams inserted in the floor (which must be a strong one), and wheeled off and on as occasion requires. the idea of the society of books is in a case of this kind abandoned. but even on this there is something to say. neither all men nor all books are equally sociable. for my part i find but little sociabilty in a huge wall of hansards, or (though a great improvement) in the gentleman's magazine, in the annual registers, in the edinburgh and quarterly reviews, or in the vast range of volumes which represent pamphlets innumerable. yet each of these and other like items variously present to us the admissible, or the valuable, or the indispensable. clearly these masses, and such as these, ought to be selected first for what i will not scruple to call interment. it is a burial; one, however, to which the process of cremation will never of set purpose be applied. the word i have used is dreadful, but also dreadful is the thing. to have our dear old friends stowed away in catacombs, or like the wine-bottles in bins: the simile is surely lawful until the use of that commodity shall have been prohibited by the growing movement of the time. but however we may gild the case by a cheering illustration, or by the remembrance that the provision is one called for only by our excess of wealth, it can hardly be contemplated without a shudder at a process so repulsive applied to the best beloved among inanimate objects. it may be thought that the gloomy perspective i am now opening exists for great public libraries alone. but public libraries are multiplying fast, and private libraries are aspiring to the public dimensions. it may be hoped that for a long time to come no grave difficulties will arise in regard to private libraries, meant for the ordinary use of that great majority of readers who read only for recreation or for general improvement. but when study, research, authorship, come into view, when the history of thought and of inquiry in each of its branches, or in any considerable number of them, has to be presented, the necessities of the case are terribly widened. chess is a specialty and a narrow one. but i recollect a statement in the quarterly review, years back, that there might be formed a library of twelve hundred volumes upon chess. i think my deceased friend, mr. alfred denison, collected between two and three thousand upon angling. of living englishmen perhaps lord acton is the most effective and retentive reader; and for his own purposes he has gathered a library of not less, i believe, than , volumes. undoubtedly the idea of book-cemeteries such as i have supposed is very formidable. it should be kept within the limits of the dire necessity which has evoked it from the underworld into the haunts of living men. but it will have to be faced, and faced perhaps oftener than might be supposed. and the artist needed for the constructions it requires will not be so much a librarian as a warehouseman. but if we are to have cemeteries, they ought to receive as many bodies as possible. the condemned will live ordinarily in pitch darkness, yet so that when wanted, they may be called into the light. asking myself how this can most effectively be done, i have arrived at the conclusion that nearly two-thirds, or say three-fifths, of the whole cubic contents of a properly constructed apartment[ ] may be made a nearly solid mass of books: a vast economy which, so far as it is applied, would probably quadruple or quintuple the efficiency of our repositories as to contents, and prevent the population of great britain from being extruded some centuries hence into the surrounding waters by the exorbitant dimensions of their own libraries. --the end-- footnotes: [footnote : in der alte und der neue glaube] [footnote : xxi, .] [footnote : first of all it seems to have referred to the red capital letters placed at the head of chapters or other divisions of works.] [footnote : cic. pro archia poeta, vii.] [footnote : essays critical and historical, ii. .] [footnote : the prayer book recently issued by mr. frowde at the clarendon press weighs, bound in morocco, less than an once and a quarter. i see it stated that unbound it weighs three-quarters of an ounce. pickering's cattullus, tibullus, and propertius in leather binding, weighs an ounce and a quarter. his dante weighs less than a number of the times.] [footnote : see libraries and the founders of libraries, by b. edwards, , p. . hallam, lit. europe.] [footnote : hor. ep. ii. i. ; persius, i. ; martial, iv. lxxxvii. .] [footnote : edwards.] [footnote : rouard, notice sur la bibliotheque d'aix, p. . quoted in edwards, p. .] [footnote : the director of the bibliotheque nationale in paris, which i suppose still to be the first library in the world, in doing for me most graciously the honors of that noble establishment, informed me that they full-bound annually a few scores of volumes, while they half-bound about twelve hundred. for all the rest they had to be contented with a lower provision. and france raises the largest revenue in the world.] [footnote : note in illustration. let us suppose a room feet by , and a little over feet high. divide this longitudinally for a passage feet wide. let the passage project to inches at each end beyond the line of the wall. let the passage ends be entirely given to either window or glass door. twenty-four pairs of trams run across the room. on them are placed bookcases, divided by the passage, reaching to the ceiling, each feet broad, inches deep, and separated from its neighbors by an interval of inches, and set on small wheels, pulleys, or rollers, to work along the trams. strong handles on the inner side of each bookcase to draw it out into the passage. each of these bookcases would hold octavos; and a room of feet by would receive , volumes. a room of feet by (no great size) would receive , , it would, of course, be not properly a room, but a warehouse.] as fame reports it, with the gods. him frantic hunger wildly drives against a thousand authors' lives: through all the fields of wit he flies; dreadful his head with clustering eyes, with horns without, and tusks within, and scales to serve him for a skin. observe him nearly, lest he climb to wound the bards of ancient time, or down the vale of fancy go to tear some modern wretch below. on every corner fix thine eye, or ten to one he slips thee by. see where his teeth a passage eat: we'll rouse him from his deep retreat. but who the shelter's forced to give? 'tis sacred virgil, as i live! from leaf to leaf, from song to song, he draws the tadpole form along, he mounts the gilded edge before, he's up, he scuds the cover o'er, he turns, he doubles, there he passed, and here we have him, caught at last. insatiate brute, whose teeth abuse the sweetest servants of the muse-- nay, never offer to deny, i took thee in the act to fly. his roses nipped in every page, my poor anacreon mourns thy rage; by thee my ovid wounded lies; by thee my lesbia's sparrow dies; thy rabid teeth have half destroyed the work of love in biddy floyd; they rent belinda's locks away, and spoiled the blouzelind of gay. for all, for every single deed, relentless justice bids thee bleed: then fall a victim to the nine, myself the priest, my desk the shrine. bring homer, virgil, tasso near, to pile a sacred altar here: hold, boy, thy hand outruns thy wit, you reached the plays that dennis writ; you reached me philips' rustic strain; pray take your mortal bards again. come, bind the victim,--there he lies, and here between his numerous eyes this venerable dust i lay from manuscripts just swept away. the goblet in my hand i take, for the libation's yet to make: a health to poets! all their days may they have bread, as well as praise; sense may they seek, and less engage in papers filled with party rage. but if their riches spoil their vein, ye muses, make them poor again. now bring the weapon, yonder blade with which my tuneful pens are made. i strike the scales that arm thee round, and twice and thrice i print the wound; the sacred altar floats with red, and now he dies, and now he's dead. how like the son of jove i stand, this hydra stretched beneath the hand! lay bare the monster's entrails here, and see what dangers threat the year: ye gods! what sonnets on a wench! what lean translations out of french! 'tis plain, this lobe is so unsound, s-- prints, before the months go round. but hold, before i close the scene the sacred altar should be clean. o had i shadwell's second bays, or, tate, thy pert and humble lays! (ye pair, forgive me, when i vow i never missed your works till now,) i'd tear the leaves to wipe the shrine, that only way you please the nine: but since i chance to want these two, i'll make the songs of d'urfey do. rent from the corpse, on yonder pin, i hang the scales that braced it in; i hang my studious morning gown, and write my own inscription down. 'this trophy from the python won, this robe, in which the deed was done, these, parnell, glorying in the feat, hung on these shelves, the muses' seat. here ignorance and hunger found large realms of wit to ravage round; here ignorance and hunger fell, two foes in one i sent to hell. ye poets who my labours see come share the triumph all with me! ye critics, born to vex the muse, go mourn the grand ally you lose!' t. parnell. a moth here he beholds in triumph sit the bane of beauty, sense, and wit; demolished distichs round his head, half lines and shattered stanzas spread, while the insulting conqueror climbs o'er mighty heaps of ruined rhymes, and, proudly mounted, views from high, beneath, the harmonious fragments lie; boasting himself from foes secured, in stanzas lodged, in verse immured. w. king (?) _bibliotheca._ the cure for bookworms there is a sort of busy worm that will the fairest books deform, by gnawing holes throughout them; alike through every leaf they go, yet of its merits naught they know, nor care they aught about them. their tasteless tooth will tear and taint the poet, patriot, sage, or saint, nor sparing wit nor learning: now, if you'd know the reason why, the best of reasons i'll supply-- 'tis bread to the poor vermin. of pepper, snuff, or 'bacca smoke, and russia-calf they make a joke. yet why should sons of science these puny, rankling reptiles dread? 'tis but to let their books be read, and bid the worms defiance. j. f. m. dovaston. royal patronage of books queen charlotte, when discussing books with fanny burney and mrs. delany, during the former's residence at court at windsor, praised the work of a writer who had translated a german book into english, saying 'i wish i knew the translator,' to which miss burney replied, 'i wish the translator knew that!' 'oh,' said the queen,--'it is not--i should not like to give my name, for fear i have judged ill: i picked it up on a stall. oh, it is amazing what good books there are on stalls.' 'it is amazing to me,' said mrs. delany, 'to hear that.' 'why, i don't pick them up myself; but i have a servant very clever; and if they are not to be had at the bookseller's, they are not for me any more than for another.'--from madame d'arblay. _diary._ the treasure do you remember the brown suit, which you made to hang upon you, till all your friends cried shame upon you, it grew so thread-bare--and all because of that folio beaumont and fletcher, which you dragged home late at night from barker's in covent-garden? do you remember how we eyed it for weeks before we could make up our minds to the purchase, and had not come to a determination till it was near ten o'clock of the saturday night, when you set off from islington, fearing you should be too late--and when the old bookseller with some grumbling opened his shop, and by the twinkling taper (for he was setting bed-wards) lighted out the relic from his dusty treasures--and when you lugged it home, wishing it were twice as cumbersome--and when you presented it to me--and when we were exploring the perfectness of it (_collating_ you called it)--and while i was repairing some of the loose leaves with paste, which your impatience would not suffer to be left till daybreak--was there no pleasure in being a poor man? or can those neat black clothes, which you wear now, and are so careful to keep brushed, since we have become rich and finical, give you half the honest vanity, with which you flaunted it about in that over-worn suit--your old corbeau--for four or five weeks longer than you should have done, to pacify your conscience for the mighty sum of fifteen--or sixteen shillings was it?--a great affair we thought it then--which you had lavished on the old folio. now you can afford to buy any book that pleases you, but i do not see that you ever bring me home any nice old purchases now.--c. lamb. _old china._ the most valuable book we ought not to get books too cheaply. no book, i believe, is ever worth half so much to its reader as one that has been coveted for a year at a bookstall, and bought out of saved halfpence; and perhaps a day or two's fasting. that's the way to get at the cream of a book.--j. ruskin. _political economy of art (a joy for ever)._ the readers at the bookstall there is a class of street-readers, whom i can never contemplate without affection--the poor gentry, who, not having wherewithal to buy or hire a book, filch a little learning at the open stalls--the owner, with his hard eye, casting envious looks at them all the while, and thinking when they will have done. venturing tenderly, page after page, expecting every moment when he shall interpose his interdict, and yet unable to deny themselves the gratification, they 'snatch a fearful joy'. martin b----, in this way, by daily fragments, got through two volumes of clarissa, when the stall-keeper damped his laudable ambition, by asking him (it was in his younger days) whether he meant to purchase the work. m. declares that under no circumstances of his life did he ever peruse a book with half the satisfaction which he took in those uneasy snatches. a quaint poetess of our day has moralized upon this subject in two very touching but homely stanzas: i saw a boy with eager eye open a book upon a stall, and read, as he'd devour it all; which when the stall-man did espy, soon to the boy i heard him call, 'you, sir, you never buy a book, therefore in one you shall not look.' the boy passed slowly on and with a sigh he wished he never had been taught to read, then of the old churl's books he should have had no need. of sufferings the poor have many, which never can the rich annoy: i soon perceived another boy, who looked as if he'd not had any food, for that day at least--enjoy the sight of cold meat in a tavern larder. this boy's case, then thought i, is surely harder, thus hungry, longing, thus without a penny, beholding choice of dainty-dressèd meat: no wonder if he wish he ne'er had learned to eat. c. lamb. _detached thoughts on books and reading._ tetrachordon a book was writ of late called tetrachordon; and woven close, both matter, form and style; the subject new: it walked the town awhile, numbering good intellects; now seldom pored on. cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on a title-page is this! and some in file stand spelling false, while one might walk to mile- end green. why is it harder, sirs, than gordon, colkitto, or macdonnel, or galasp? those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek that would have made quintilian stare and gasp. thy age, like ours, o soul of sir john cheek, hated not learning worse than toad or asp; when thou taught'st cambridge, and king edward greek. j. milton. the second-hand catalogue a second-hand bookseller's catalogue is not a mere catalogue or list of saleables, as the uninitiated may fancy. even a common auctioneer's catalogue of goods and chattels suggests a thousand reflections to a peruser of any knowledge; judge then what the case must be with a catalogue of books; the very titles of which run the rounds of the whole world, visible and invisible; geographies--biographies-- histories--loves--hates--joys--sorrows--cookeries--sciences--fashion--and eternity! we speak on this subject from the most literal experience; for often and often have we cut open a new catalogue of old books, with all the fervour and ivory folder of a first love; often read one at tea; nay, at dinner; and have put crosses against dozens of volumes in the list, out of the pure imagination of buying them, the possibility being _out of the question_!-- nothing delights us more than to overhaul some dingy tome, and read a chapter gratuitously. occasionally when we have opened some very attractive old book, we have stood reading for hours at the stall, lost in a brown study and worldly forgetfulness, and should probably have read on to the end of the last chapter, had not the vendor of published wisdom offered, in a satirically polite way, to bring us out a chair--'take a chair, sir; you must be tired.'--j. h. leigh hunt. _retrospective review._ the find do you see this square old yellow book, i toss i' the air, and catch again, and twirl about by the crumpled vellum covers,--pure crude fact secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard, and brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since? examine it yourselves! i found this book, gave a _lira_ for it, eightpence english just, (mark the predestination!) when a hand, always above my shoulder, pushed me once, one day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm, across a square in florence, crammed with booths, buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time; toward baccio's marble,--ay, the basement-ledge o' the pedestal where sits and menaces john of the black bands with the upright spear, 'twixt palace and church,--riccardi where they lived, his race, and san lorenzo where they lie. this book,--precisely on that palace-step which, meant for lounging knaves o' the medici, now serves re-venders to display their ware,-- 'mongst odds and ends of ravage, picture-frames white through the worn gilt, mirror-sconces chipped, bronze angel-heads once knobs attached to chests, (handled when ancient dames chose forth brocade) modern chalk drawings, studies from the nude, samples of stone, jet, breccia, porphyry polished and rough, sundry amazing busts in baked earth, (broken, providence be praised!) a wreck of tapestry, proudly-purposed web when reds and blues were indeed red and blue, now offered as a mat to save bare feet (since carpets constitute a cruel cost) treading the chill scagliola bedward: then a pile of brown-etched prints, two _crazie_ each, stopped by a conch a-top from fluttering forth --sowing the square with works of one and the same master, the imaginative sienese great in the scenic backgrounds--(name and fame none of you know, nor does he fare the worse:) from these.... oh, with a lionard going cheap if it should prove, as promised, that joconde whereof a copy contents the louvre!--these i picked this book from. five compeers in flank stood left and right of it as tempting more-- a dogseared spicilegium, the fond tale o' the frail one of the flower, by young dumas, vulgarized horace for the use of schools, the life, death, miracles of saint somebody, saint somebody else, his miracles, death, and life,-- with this, one glance at the lettered back of which, and 'stall!' cried i: a _lira_ made it mine. here it is, this i toss and take again; small-quarto size, part print part manuscript: a book in shape but, really, pure crude fact secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard, and brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since. give it me back! the thing's restorative i' the touch and sight. r. browning. _the ring and the book._ purchasing an act of piety when providence throws a good book in my way, i bow to its decree and purchase it as an act of piety, if it is reasonably or unreasonably cheap. i _adopt_ a certain number of books every year, out of a love for the foundlings and stray children of other people's brains that nobody seems to care for. look here. he took down a greek lexicon finely bound in calf, and spread it open. do you see that hedericus? i had greek dictionaries enough and to spare, but i saw that noble quarto lying in the midst of an ignoble crowd of cheap books, and marked with a price which i felt to be an insult to scholarship, to the memory of homer, sir, and the awful shade of aeschylus, i paid the mean price asked for it, and i wanted to double it, but i suppose it would have been a foolish sacrifice of coin to sentiment. i love that book for its looks and behaviour. none of your 'half-calf' economies in that volume, sir! and see how it lies open anywhere! there isn't a book in my library that has such a generous way of laying its treasures before you. from alpha to omega, calm, assured rest at any page that your choice or accident may light on. no lifting of a rebellious leaf like an upstart servant that does not know his place and can never be taught manners, but tranquil, well-bred repose. a book may be a perfect gentleman in its aspect and demeanour, and this book would be good company for personages like roger ascham and his pupils the lady elizabeth and the lady jane grey.--o. w. holmes. _the poet at the breakfast-table._ a forced sale i fear that i must sell this residue of my father's books; although the elzevirs have fly-leaves over-written by his hand, in faded notes as thick and fine and brown as cobwebs on a tawny monument of the old greeks--_conferenda haec cum his_-- _corruptè citat_--_lege potiùs_, and so on, in the scholar's regal way of giving judgement on the parts of speech, as if he sate on all twelve thrones up-piled, arraigning israel. ay, but books and notes must go together. and this proclus too, in quaintly dear contracted grecian types, fantastically crumpled, like his thoughts which would not seem too plain; you go round twice for one step forward, then you take it back, because you're somewhat giddy! there's the rule for proclus. ah, i stained this middle leaf with pressing in't my florence iris-bell, long stalk and all: my father chided me for that stain of blue blood,--i recollect the peevish turn his voice took,--'silly girls, who plant their flowers in our philosophy to make it fine, and only spoil the book! no more of it, aurora.' yes--no more! ah, blame of love, that's sweeter than all praise of those who love not! 'tis so lost to me, i cannot, in such beggared life, afford to lose my proclus.... the kissing judas, wolff, shall go instead, who builds us such a royal book as this to honour a chief-poet, folio-built, and writes above, 'the house of nobody': who floats in cream, as rich as any sucked from juno's breasts, the broad homeric lines, and, while with their spondaic prodigious mouths they lap the lucent margins as babe-gods, proclaims them bastards. wolff's an atheist; and if the iliad fell out, as he says, by mere fortuitous concourse of old songs, we'll guess as much, too, for the universe. e. b. browning. _aurora leigh._ the vocation one of the shop-windows he paused before was that of a second-hand book-shop, where, on a narrow table outside, the literature of the ages was represented in judicious mixture, from the immortal verse of homer to the mortal prose of the railway novel. that the mixture was judicious was apparent from deronda's finding in it something that he wanted--namely, that wonderful bit of autobiography, the life of the polish jew, salomon maimon; which, as he could easily slip it into his pocket, he took from its place, and entered the shop to pay for, expecting to see behind the counter a grimy personage showing that nonchalance about sales which seems to belong universally to the second-hand book-business. in most other trades you find generous men who are anxious to sell you their wares for your own welfare; but even a jew will not urge simson's euclid on you with an affectionate assurance that you will have pleasure in reading it, and that he wishes he had twenty more of the article, so much is it in request. one is led to fear that a second-hand bookseller may belong to that unhappy class of men who have no belief in the good of what they get their living by, yet keep conscience enough to be morose rather than unctuous in their vocation.--g. eliot. _daniel deronda._ to my bookseller thou that makst gain thy end, and, wisely well, callst a book good, or bad, as it doth sell, use mine so too: i give thee leave; but crave for the luck's sake it thus much favour have to lie upon thy stall, till it be sought; not offered, as it made suit to be bought; nor have my title-leaf on posts or walls, or in cleft sticks, advanced to make calls for termers, or some clerk-like servingman, who scarce can spell the hard names: whose knight less can. if without these vile arts it will not sell, send it to bucklersbury, there 'twill well. ben jonson. the writer to his book whither thus hastes my little book so fast? to paul's churchyard. what? in those cells to stand, with one leaf like a rider's cloak put up to catch a termer? or lie musty there with rhymes a term set out, or two, before? some will redeem me. few. yes, read me too. fewer. nay, love me. now thou dot'st, i see. will not our english athens art defend? perhaps. will lofty courtly wits not aim still at perfection? if i grant? i fly. whither? to paul's. alas, poor book, i rue thy rash self-love; go, spread thy papery wings: thy lightness cannot help or hurt my fame. t. campion. ad bibliopolam printer or stationer or whate'er thou prove shalt me record to time's posterity: i'll not enjoin thee, but request in love, thou so much deign my book to dignify, as, first, it be not with your ballads mixed next, not at play-houses 'mongst pippins sold: then that on posts by the ears it stand not fixt, for every dull mechanic to behold. last, that it come not brought in pedler's packs, to common fairs, of country, town, or city: sold at a booth 'mongst pins and almanacks; yet on thy hands to lie, thou'lt say 'twere pity; let it be rather for tobacco rent, or butchers-wives, next cleansing-week in lent. h. parrot. _the mastive, or young-whelpe of the olde-dogge._ in bondage to the bookseller nevertheless conceive me not, i pray you, that i go about to lay a general imputation upon all stationers. for to disparage the whole profession were an act neither becoming an honest man to do, nor a prudent auditory to suffer. their mystery, as they not untruly term it, consists of divers trades incorporated together: as printers, book-binders, clasp-makers, booksellers, &c. and of all these be some honest men, who to my knowledge are so grieved, being overborne by the notorious oppressions and proceedings of the rest, that they have wished themselves of some other calling. the printers' mystery is ingenious, painful, and profitable: the book-binders' necessary; the clasp-makers' useful. and indeed, the retailer of books, commonly called a bookseller, is a trade, which, being well governed and limited within certain bounds, might become somewhat serviceable to the rest. but as it is now, for the most part abused, the bookseller hath not only made the printer, the binder, and the clasp-maker a slave to him: but hath brought authors, yea, the whole commonwealth, and all the liberal sciences into bondage. for he makes all professors of art labour for his profit, at his own price, and utters it to the commonwealth in such fashion, and at those rates, which please himself. insomuch, that i wonder so insupportable and so impertinent a thing as a mere bookseller, considering what the profession is become now, was ever permitted to grow up in the commonwealth.--g. wither. _the schollers purgatory._ in paternoster row methinks, oh vain, ill-judging book! i see thee cast a wistful look, where reputations won and lost are in famous row called _paternoster_. incensed to find your precious olio buried in unexplored port-folio, you scorn the prudent lock and key; and pant, well-bound and gilt, to see your volume in the window set of stockdale, hookham, and debrett. go then, and pass that dangerous bourne whence never book can back return; and when you find--condemned, despised, neglected, blamed, and criticized-- abuse from all who read you fall (if haply you be read at all), sorely will you for folly sigh at, and wish for me, and home, and quiet. assuming now a conjurer's office, i thus on your future fortune prophesy:-- soon as your novelty is o'er, and you are young and new no more, in some dark dirty corner thrown, mouldy with damps, with cobwebs strown, your leaves shall be the bookworm's prey; or sent to chandler's shop away, and doomed to suffer public scandal, shall line the trunk, or wrap the candle. m. g. lewis. _the monk._ the elephant and the bookseller the bookseller, who heard him speak, and saw him turn a page of greek, thought, what a genius have i found! then thus addressed with bow profound: 'learned sir, if you'd employ your pen against the senseless sons of men, or write the history of siam, no man is better pay than i am. or, since you're learned in greek, let's see something against the trinity.' when, wrinkling with a sneer his trunk, 'friend', quoth the elephant, 'you're drunk: e'en keep your money, and be wise; leave man on man to criticize: for that you ne'er can want a pen among the senseless sons of men. they unprovoked will court the fray; envy's a sharper spur than pay. no author ever spared a brother; wits are gamecocks to one another.' j. gay. _fables._ literary upholsterers our booksellers here at london disgrace literature by the trash they bespeak to be written, and at the same time prevent everything else from being sold. they are little more or less than upholsterers, who sell _sets_ or _bodies_ of arts and sciences for furniture; and the purchasers, for i am very sure they are not readers, buy only in that view. i never thought there was much merit in reading: but yet it is too good a thing to be put upon no better footing than damask and mahogany.--h. walpole. earl of orford (letter to sir david dalrymple). no furniture so charming as books, even if you never open them or read a single word.--s. smith. _memoirs._ on a miscellany of poems to bernard lintott _'ipsa varietate tentamus efficere ut alia aliis, quaedam fortasse omnibus placeant.'_ _plin. epist._ as when some skilful cook, to please each guest, would in one mixture comprehend a feast, with due proportion and judicious care he fills his dish with different sorts of fare, fishes and fowls deliciously unite, to feast at once the taste, the smell, and sight. so, bernard, must a miscellany be compounded of all kinds of poetry; the muses' olio, which all tastes may fit, and treat each reader with his darling wit. wouldst thou for miscellanies raise thy fame, and bravely rival jacob's mighty name, let all the muses in the piece conspire; the lyric bard must strike the harmonious lyre; heroic strains must here and there be found; and nervous sense be sung in lofty sound; let elegy in moving numbers flow, and fill some pages with melodious woe; let not your amorous songs too numerous prove, nor glut thy reader with abundant love; satire must interfere, whose pointed rage may lash the madness of a vicious age; satire! the muse that never fails to hit, for if there's scandal, to be sure there's wit. tire not our patience with pindaric lays, those swell the piece, but very rarely please; let short-breathed epigram its force confine, and strike at follies in a single line. translations should throughout the work be sown, and homer's godlike muse be made our own; horace in useful numbers should be sung, and virgil's thoughts adorn the british tongue. let ovid tell corinna's hard disdain, and at her door in melting notes complain; his tender accents pitying virgins move, and charm the listening ear with tales of love let every classic in the volume shine, and each contribute to thy great design; through various subjects let the reader range, and raise his fancy with a grateful change. variety's the source of joy below, from whence still fresh revolving pleasures flow. in books and love, the mind one end pursues, and only _change_ the expiring flame renews. where buckingham will condescend to give, that honoured piece to distant times must live; when noble sheffield strikes the trembling strings, the little loves rejoice, and clap their wings; anacreon lives, they cry, the harmonious swain retunes the lyre, and tries his wonted strain, 'tis he--our lost anacreon lives again. but, when the illustrious poet soars above the sportive revels of the god of love, like mars's muse, he takes a loftier flight, and towers beyond the wondering cupid's sight. if thou wouldst have thy volume stand the test, and of all others be reputed best, let congreve teach the listening groves to mourn, as when he wept o'er fair pastora's urn. let prior's muse with softening accents move, soft as the strains of constant emma's love: or let his fancy choose some jovial theme, as when he told hans carvel's jealous dream; prior the admiring reader entertains with chaucer's humour, and with spenser's strains. waller in granville lives; when mira sings, with waller's hand he strikes the sounding strings, with sprightly turns his noble genius shines, and manly sense adorns his easy lines. on addison's sweet lays attention waits, and silence guards the place while he repeats; his muse alike on every subject charms, whether she paints the god of love, or arms: in him pathetic ovid sings again, and homer's _iliad_ shines in his _campaign_. whenever garth shall raise his sprightly song, sense flows in easy numbers from his tongue; great phoebus in his learned son we see, alike in physic, as in poetry. when pope's harmonious muse with pleasure roves amidst the plains, the murmuring streams, and groves, attentive echo, pleased to hear his songs, through the glad shade each warbling note prolongs; his various numbers charm our ravished ears, his steady judgement far out-shoots his years, and early in the youth the god appears. from these successful bards collect thy strains; and praise with profit shall reward thy pains: then, while calf's-leather-binding bears the sway, and sheepskin to its sleeker gloss gives way; while neat old elzevir is reckoned better than pirate hill's brown sheets and scurvy letter; while print-admirers careful aldous choose, before john morphew, or the weekly news; so long shall live thy praise in books of fame, and tonson yield to lintott's lofty name. j. gay. verses to be prefixed before bernard lintott's new miscellany some colinaeus praise, some bleau, others account them but so so; some plantin to the rest prefer, and some esteem old elzevir; others with aldous would besot us; i, for my part, admire lintotus.-- his character's beyond compare, like his own person, large and fair. they print their names in letters small, but lintott stands in capital: author and he with equal grace appear, and stare you in the face. stephens prints heathen greek, 'tis said, which some can't construe, some can't read; but all that comes from lintott's hand, even rawlinson might understand. oft in an aldous, or a plantin, a page is blotted, or leaf wanting: of lintott's books this can't be said, all fair, and not so much as read. their copy cost 'em not a penny to homer, virgil, or to any; they ne'er gave sixpence for two lines to them, their heirs, or their assigns: but lintott is at vast expense, and pays prodigious dear for--sense. their books are useful but to few, a scholar or a wit or two; lintott's for general use are fit. a. pope. to mr. murray strahan, tonson, lintott of the times, patron and publisher of rhymes, for thee the bard up pindus climbs, my murray. to thee, with hope and terror dumb, the unpledged ms. authors come; thou printest all--and sellest some-- my murray. upon thy table's baize so green the last new _quarterly_ is seen,-- but where is thy new magazine, my murray? along thy sprucest bookshelves shine the works thou deemest most divine-- the 'art of cookery', and mine, my murray. tours, travels, essays, too, i wist, and sermons, to thy mill bring grist; and then thou hast the 'navy list', my murray. and heaven forbid i should conclude without 'the board of longitude', although this narrow paper would, my murray. g. gordon, lord byron. to the editor of 'the every-day book' i like you, and your book, ingenuous hone! in whose capacious all-embracing leaves the very marrow of tradition's shown; and all that history--much that fiction--weaves. by every sort of taste your work is graced. vast stores of modern anecdote we find, with good old story quaintly interlaced-- the theme as various as the reader's mind. rome's life-fraught legends you so truly paint-- yet kindly,--that the half-turned catholic scarcely forbears to smile at his own saint, and cannot curse the candid heretic. rags, relics, witches, ghosts, fiends, crowd your page; our father's mummeries we well-pleased behold, and, proudly conscious of a purer age, forgive some fopperies in the times of old. verse-honouring phoebus, father of bright _days_, must needs bestow on you both good and many, who, building trophies of his children's praise, run their rich zodiac through, not missing any. dan phoebus loves your book--trust me, friend hone-- the title only errs, he bids me say: for while such art, wit, reading, there are shown, he swears, 'tis not a work of _every day_. c. lamb. i love everything that is old: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wines.--o. goldsmith. the bannatyne club, or one volume more assist me, ye friends of old books and old wine, to sing in the praises of sage bannatyne, who left such a treasure of old scottish lore as enables each age to print one volume more. one volume more, my friends, one volume more, we'll ransack old banny for one volume more. and first, allan ramsay was eager to glean from bannatyne's _hortus_ his bright evergreen; two light little volumes (intended for four) still leave us the task to print one volume more. one volume more, &c. his ways were not ours, for he cared not a pin how much he left out, or how much he put in; the truth of the reading he thought was a bore, so this accurate age calls for one volume more. one volume more, &c. correct and sagacious, then came my lord hailes, and weighed every letter in critical scales, and left out some brief words, which the prudish abhor, and castrated banny in one volume more. one volume more, my friends, one volume more; we'll restore banny's manhood in one volume more. john pinkerton next, and i'm truly concerned i can't call that worthy so candid as learned; he railed at the plaid and blasphemed the claymore, and set scots by the ears in his one volume more. one volume more, my friends, one volume more, celt and goth shall be pleased with one volume more. as bitter as gall, and as sharp as a razor, and feeding on herbs as a nebuchadnezzar, his diet too acid, his temper too sour, little ritson came out with his two volumes more. but one volume, my friends, one volume more, we'll dine on roast-beef and print one volume more. the stout gothic yeditur, next on the roll, with his beard like a brush, and as black as a coal; and honest greysteel that was true to the core, lent their hearts and their hands each to one volume more. one volume more, &c. since by these single champions what wonders were done, what may not be achieved by our thirty and one? law, gospel, and commerce we count in our corps, and the trade and the press join for one volume more. one volume more, &c. ancient libels and contraband books, i assure ye, we'll print as secure from exchequer or jury; then hear your committee and let them count o'er the chiels they intend in their three volumes more. three volumes more, &c. they'll produce your king jamie, the sapient and sext, and the bob of dumblane and her bishops come next; one tome miscellaneous they'll add to your store, resolving next year to print four volumes more. four volumes more, my friends, four volumes more; pay down your subscriptions for four volumes more. sir w. scott. the booksellers' banquet grave vendors of volumes, best friends of the nine, give ear to my song as to charm you i try; other bards may in vain look for audience like mine, for the muses they chant, for the booksellers i. their notes i have drawn, so 'tis nothing but fair that my notes should be drawn, if they please, at a beck; undaunted i warble--i truly declare my song is most valued when met by a _cheque_. the work we've just finished went off very well; it was set out with _plates_, such as finden, or heath, if even their professional feelings rebel, must praise on account (not in spite) of their teeth. though by fraser cut up, and by murray reviewed, lovegrove's articles all fit insertion have found. we have cleared off our boards, but as business is good, we keep wetted for use, and for pleasure unbound. but here not for pleasure alone are we stored like holiday tomes in our gilding so bright; some care 'tis our duty and wish to afford in the moment of need to a less lucky wight, whose title is lost, and whose covers are torn, when the moth has gnawed through, dust or cobwebs surround, and to lift on the shelf our poor brother forlorn, as a much damaged old folio treasured by lowndes. though his back stock of life may perchance weigh him down, by our aid may the old heavy pressure be moved, and new-titled we start him again on the town, as a second edition revised and improved. and for dealings like this a commission will find, and that of a date that the primest is given, the commission is--strive to do good to mankind, and the place of its dates is no other than heaven. i won't keep the press waiting--my copy is gone, having finished a lay which bob fisher, perhaps, may out of the head of old caxton call one, if not of his _drawing_, yet _dining-room scraps_; but as we all still think of tom talfourd's bill, after sixty years' date, i respectfully beg, as a knight of the quill, here to offer for _nil_, my right in this song as a present to tegg. w. maginn. what a heart-breaking shop but what were even gold and silver, precious stones and clockwork, to the bookshops, whence a pleasant smell of paper freshly pressed came issuing forth, awakening instant recollections of some new grammar had at school, long time ago, with 'master pinch, grove house academy', inscribed in faultless writing on the fly-leaf! that whiff of russia leather, too, and all those rows on rows of volumes, neatly ranged within: what happiness did they suggest! and in the window were the spick-and-span new works from london, with the title-pages, and sometimes even the first page of the first chapter, laid wide open: tempting unwary men to begin to read the book, and then, in the impossibility of turning over, to rush blindly in, and buy it! here too were the dainty frontispiece and trim vignette, pointing like handposts on the outskirts of great cities, to the rich stock of incident beyond; and store of books, with many a grave portrait and time-honoured name, whose matter he knew well, and would have given mines to have, in any form, upon the narrow shelf beside his bed at mr. pecksniff's. what a heart-breaking shop it was!--c. dickens. _martin chuzzlewit._ genteel ornaments if people bought no more books than they intended to read, and no more swords than they intended to use, the two worst trades in europe would be a bookseller's and a sword-cutler's; but luckily for both they are reckoned genteel ornaments.--lord chesterfield. mammon and books all who are affected by the love of books hold worldly affairs and money very cheap, as jerome writes to vigilantius (epist. ): 'it is not for the same man to ascertain the value of gold coins and of writings;' which somebody thus repeated in verse: no tinker's hand shall dare a book to stain; no miser's heart can wish a book to gain; the gold assayer cannot value books; on them the epicure disdainful looks. one house at once, believe me, cannot hold lovers of books and hoarders up of gold. no man, therefore, can serve mammon and books.--r. de bury. _philobiblon._ the poor student in the depth of college shades, or in his lonely chamber, the poor student shrunk from observation. he found shelter among books, which insult not; and studies, that ask no questions of a youth's finances. he was lord of his library, and seldom cared for looking out beyond his domains.--c. lamb. _poor relations._ national expenditure on books i say first we have despised literature. what do we, as a nation, care about books? how much do you think we spend altogether on our libraries, public or private, as compared with what we spend on our horses? if a man spends lavishly on his library, you call him mad--a bibliomaniac. but you never call any one a horse-maniac, though men ruin themselves every day by their horses, and you do not hear of people ruining themselves by their books. or, to go lower still, how much do you think the contents of the book-shelves of the united kingdom, public and private, would fetch, as compared with the contents of its wine-cellars? what position would its expenditure on literature take, as compared with its expenditure on luxurious eating? we talk of food for the mind, as of food for the body: now a good book contains such food inexhaustibly; it is a provision for life, and for the best part of us; yet how long most people would look at the best book before they would give the price of a large turbot for it! though there have been men who have pinched their stomachs and bared their backs to buy a book, whose libraries were cheaper to them, i think, in the end, than most men's dinners are. we are few of us put to such trial, and more the pity; for, indeed, a precious thing is all the more precious to us if it has been won by work or economy; and if public libraries were half as costly as public dinners, or books cost the tenth part of what bracelets do, even foolish men and women might sometimes suspect there was good in reading, as well as in munching and sparkling; whereas the very cheapness of literature is making even wise people forget that if a book is worth reading, it is worth buying. no book is worth anything which is not worth _much_; nor is it serviceable until it has been read, and re-read, and loved, and loved again; and marked, so that you can refer to the passages you want in it, as a soldier can seize the weapon he needs in an armoury, or a housewife bring the spice she needs from her store. bread of flour is good; but there is bread, sweet as honey, if we would eat it, in a good book; and the family must be poor indeed which, once in their lives, cannot, for such multipliable barley-loaves, pay their baker's bill. we call ourselves a rich nation, and we are filthy and foolish enough to thumb each other's books out of circulating libraries!--j. ruskin. _sesame and lilies._ the value of book borrowing i have sent you the philosophy--books you writ to me for; anything that you want of this kind for the advancement of your studies, do but write, and i shall furnish you. when i was a student as you are, my practice was to borrow rather than buy, some sort of books, and to be always punctual in restoring them upon the day assigned, and in the interim to swallow of them as much as made for my turn. this obliged me to read them through with more haste to keep my word, whereas i had not been so careful to peruse them had they been my own books, which i knew were always ready at my dispose.--j. howell. _familiar letters._ accidents to books fortunate are those who only consider a book for the utility and pleasure they may derive from its possession. those students who, though they know much, still thirst to know more, may require this vast sea of books; yet in that sea they may suffer many shipwrecks. great collections of books are subject to certain accidents besides the damp, the worms, and the rats; one not less common is that of the _borrowers_, not to say a word of the _purloiners_!--i. d'israeli. _curiosities of literature._ borrowers of books to one like elia, whose treasures are rather cased in leather covers than closed in iron coffers, there is a class of alienators more formidable than that which i have touched upon; i mean your _borrowers of books_--those mutilators of collections, spoilers of the symmetry of shelves, and creators of odd volumes. there is comberbatch [coleridge], matchless in his depredations! that foul gap in the bottom shelf facing you, like a great eye-tooth knocked out--(you are now with me in my little back study in bloomsbury, reader!)--with the huge switzer-like tomes on each side (like the guildhall giants, in their reformed posture, guardant of nothing), once held the tallest of my folios, _opera bonaventurae_, choice and massy divinity, to which its two supporters (school divinity also, but of a lesser calibre,--bellarmine, and holy thomas), showed but as dwarfs,--itself an ascapart!--_that_ comberbatch abstracted upon the faith of a theory he holds, which is more easy, i confess, for me to suffer by than to refute, namely, that 'the title to property in a book (my bonaventure, for instance), is in exact ratio to the claimant's powers of understanding and appreciating the same'. should he go on acting upon this theory, which of our shelves is safe? the slight vacuum in the left-hand case--two shelves from the ceiling--scarcely distinguishable but by the quick eye of a loser--was whilom the commodious resting-place of browne on urn burial. c. will hardly allege that he knows more about that treatise than i do, who introduced it to him, and was indeed the first (of the moderns) to discover its beauties--but so have i known a foolish lover to praise his mistress in the presence of a rival more qualified to carry her off than himself.--just below, dodsley's dramas want their fourth volume, where vittoria corombona is! the remainder nine are as distasteful as priam's refuse sons, when the fates _borrowed_ hector. here stood the anatomy of melancholy, in sober state.--there loitered the complete angler; quiet as in life, by some stream side.--in yonder nook, john buncle, a widower-volume, with 'eyes closed', mourns his ravished mate. one justice i must do my friend, that if he sometimes, like the sea, sweeps away a treasure, at another time, sea-like, he throws up as rich an equivalent to match it. i have a small under-collection of this nature (my friend's gatherings in his various calls), picked up, he has forgotten at what odd places, and deposited with as little memory as mine. i take in these orphans, the twice-deserted. these proselytes of the gate are welcome as the true hebrews. there they stand in conjunction; natives, and naturalised. the latter seem as little disposed to inquire out their true lineage as i am.--i charge no warehouse-room for these deodands, nor shall ever put myself to the ungentlemanly trouble of advertising a sale of them to pay expenses. to lose a volume to c. carries some sense and meaning in it. you are sure that he will make one hearty meal on your viands, if he can give no account of the platter after it. but what moved thee, wayward, spiteful k., to be so importunate to carry off with thee, in spite of tears and adjurations to thee to forbear, the letters of that princely woman, the thrice noble margaret newcastle?--knowing at the time, and knowing that i knew also, thou most assuredly wouldst never turn over one leaf of the illustrious folio:--what but the mere spirit of contradiction, and childish love of getting the better of thy friend?--then, worst cut of all! to transport it with thee to the gallican land-- unworthy land to harbour such a sweetness, a virtue in which all ennobling thoughts dwelt, pure thoughts, kind thoughts, high thoughts, her sex's wonder! --hadst thou not thy play-books, and books of jests and fancies, about thee, to keep thee merry, even as thou keepest all companies with thy quips and mirthful tales?--child of the green-room, it was unkindly done of thee. thy wife, too, that part-french, better-part englishwoman!--that _she_ could fix upon no other treatise to bear away in kindly token of remembering us, than the works of fulke greville, lord brooke--of which no frenchman, nor woman of france, italy, or england, was ever by nature constituted to comprehend a tittle! _was there not zimmerman on solitude?_ reader, if haply thou art blessed with a moderate collection, be shy of showing it; or if thy heart overfloweth to lend them, lend thy books; but let it be to such a one as s. t. c.--he will return them (generally anticipating the time appointed) with usury; enriched with annotations, tripling their value. i have had experience. many are these precious mss. of his--(in _matter_ oftentimes, and almost in _quantity_ not unfrequently, vying with the originals)--in no very clerky hand--legible in my daniel; in old burton; in sir thomas browne; and those abstruser cogitations of the greville, now, alas! wandering in pagan lands.--i counsel thee, shut not thy heart, nor thy library, against s. t. c.--c. lamb. _the two races of men._ borrowing and lending i own i borrow books with as much facility as i lend. i cannot see a work that interests me on another person's shelf, without a wish to carry it off: but, i repeat, that i have been much more sinned against than sinning in the article of non-return; and am scrupulous in the article of intention.--j. h. leigh hunt. _my books._ wedded to books if people are to be wedded to their books, it is hard that, under our present moral dispensations, they are not to be allowed the usual exclusive privileges of marriage. a friend thinks no more of borrowing a book nowadays, than a roman did of borrowing a man's wife; and what is worse, we are so far gone in our immoral notions on this subject, that we even lend it as easily as cato did his spouse. now what a happy thing ought it not to be to have exclusive possession of a book,--one's shakespeare for instance; for the finer the wedded work, the more anxious of course we should be, that it should give nobody happiness but ourselves. think of the pleasure of not only being with it in general, of having by far the greater part of its company, but of having it entirely to oneself; of always saying internally, 'it is my property'; of seeing it well-dressed in 'black or red', purely to please one's own eyes; of wondering how any fellow could be so impudent as to propose borrowing it for an evening; of being at once proud of his admiration, and pretty certain that it was in vain; of the excitement nevertheless of being a little uneasy whenever we saw him approach it too nearly; of wishing that it could give him a cuff of the cheek with one of its beautiful boards, for presuming to like its beauties as well as ourselves; of liking other people's books, but not at all thinking it proper that they should like ours; of getting perhaps indifferent to it, and then comforting ourselves with the reflection that others are not so, though to no purpose; in short, of all the mixed transport and anxiety to which the exclusiveness of the book-wedded state would be liable; not to mention the impossibility of other people's having any literary offspring from our fair unique, and consequently of the danger of loving any compilations but our own. really, if we could burn all other copies of our originals, as the roman emperor once thought of destroying homer, this system would be worth thinking of. if we had a good library, we should be in the situation of the turks with their seraglios, which are a great improvement upon our petty exclusivenesses. nobody could then touch our shakespeare, our spenser, our chaucer, our greek and italian writers. people might say, 'those are the walls of the library!' and 'sigh, and look, and sigh again'; but they should never get in. no retrospective rake should anticipate our privileges of quotation. our mary wollstonecrafts and our madame de staëls--no one should know how finely they were lettered,--what soul there was in their disquisitions. we once had a glimpse of the feelings which people would have on these occasions. it was in the library of trinity college, cambridge. the keeper of it was from home; and not being able to get a sight of the manuscript of milton's _comus_, we were obliged to content ourselves with looking through a wire-work, a kind of safe, towards the shelf on which it reposed. how we winked, and yearned, and imagined we saw a corner of the all-precious sheets, to no purpose! the feelings were not very pleasant, it is true; but then as long as they were confined to others, they would of course only add to our satisfaction.--j. h. leigh hunt. _wedded to books._ the art of book-keeping how hard, when those who do not wish to lend, that's lose, their books, are snared by anglers--folks that fish with literary hooks; who call and take some favourite tome, but never read it through;-- they thus complete their set at home, by making one at you. behold the bookshelf of a dunce who borrows--never lends: yon work, in twenty volumes, once belonged to twenty friends. new tales and novels you may shut from view--'tis all in vain; they're gone--and though the leaves are 'cut' they never 'come again'. for pamphlets lent i look around, for tracts my tears are spilt; but when they take a book that's bound, 'tis surely extra-guilt. a circulating library is mine--my birds are flown; there's one odd volume left to be like all the rest, a-lone. i, of my spenser quite bereft, last winter sore was shaken; of lamb i've but a quarter left, nor could i save my bacon. my hall and hill were levelled flat, but moore was still the cry; and then, although i threw them sprat, they swallowed up my pye. o'er everything, however slight, they seized some airy trammel; they snatched my hogg and fox one night, and pocketed my campbell. and then i saw my crabbe at last, like hamlet's, backward go; and as my tide was ebbing fast, of course i lost my rowe. i wondered into what balloon my books their course had bent; and yet, with all my marvelling, soon i found my marvell went. my mallet served to knock me down, which makes me thus a talker; and once, while i was out of town, my johnson proved a walker. while studying o'er the fire one day my hobbes amidst the smoke, they bore my colman clean away, and carried off my coke. they picked my locke, to me far more than bramah's patent's worth; and now my losses i deplore without a home on earth. if once a book you let them lift, another they conceal; for though i caught them stealing swift, as swiftly went my steele. hope is not now upon my shelf, where late he stood elated; but, what is strange, my pope himself is excommunicated. my little suckling in the grave is sunk, to swell the ravage; and what 'twas crusoe's fate to save 'twas mine to lose--a savage. even glover's works i cannot put my frozen hands upon; though ever since i lost my foote my bunyan has been gone. my hoyle with cotton went; oppressed, my taylor too must sail; to save my goldsmith from arrest, in vain i offered bayle. i prior sought, but could not see the hood so late in front; and when i turned to hunt for lee, oh! where was my leigh hunt? i tried to laugh, old care to tickle, yet could not tickell touch, and then, alas! i missed my mickle, and surely mickle's much. 'tis quite enough my griefs to feed, my sorrows to excuse, to think i cannot read my reid, nor even use my hughes. to west, to south, i turn my head, exposed alike to odd jeers; for since my roger ascham's fled, i ask 'em for my rogers. they took my horne--and horne tooke, too, and thus my treasures flit; i feel when i would hazlitt view, the flames that it has lit. my word's worth little, wordsworth gone, if i survive its doom; how many a bard i doated on was swept off--with my broome. my classics would not quiet lie, a thing so fondly hoped; like dr. primrose, i may cry, 'my livy has eloped!' my life is wasting fast away-- i suffer from these shocks; and though i've fixed a lock on gray, there's grey upon my locks. i'm far from young--am growing pale-- i see my butter fly; and when they ask about my _ail_, 'tis burton! i reply. they still, have made me slight returns, and thus my griefs divide; for oh! they've cured me of my burns, and eased my akenside. but all i think i shall not say, nor let my anger burn; for as they never found me gay, they have not left me sterne. s. laman blanchard. the book of nature of this fair volume which we world do name, if we the sheets and leaves could turn with care, of him who it corrects, and did it frame, we clear might read the art and wisdom rare: find out his power which wildest powers doth tame, his providence extending everywhere, his justice which proud rebels doth not spare, in every page, no, period of the same. but silly we, like foolish children, rest well pleased with coloured vellum, leaves of gold, fair dangling ribands, leaving what is best, on the great writer's sense ne'er taking hold; or if by chance our minds do muse on aught, it is some picture on the margin wrought. w. drummond. in nature's infinite book of secrecy a little i can read. w. shakespeare. _antony and cleopatra._ the book eternal god! maker of all that have lived here since the man's fall! the rock of ages! in whose shade they live unseen when here they fade! thou knew'st this _paper_ when it was mere seed, and after that but grass; before 'twas dressed or spun, and when made linen, who did _wear_ it then, what were their lives, their thoughts and deeds, whether good _corn_, or fruitless _weeds_. thou knew'st this _tree_, when a green shade covered it, since a _cover_ made, and where it flourished, grew, and spread, as if it never should be dead. thou knew'st this harmless _beast_, when he did live and feed by thy decree on each green thing; then slept, well fed, clothed with this _skin_, which now lies spread a _covering_ o'er this aged book, which makes me wisely weep, and look on my own dust; mere dust it is, but not so dry and clean as this. thou knew'st and saw'st them all, and though now scattered thus, dost know them so. o knowing, glorious spirit! when thou shalt restore trees, beasts and men, when thou shalt make all new again, destroying only death and pain, give him amongst thy works a place who in them loved and sought thy face! h. vaughan. the book of life that life is a comedy oft hath been shown, by all who mortality's changes have known; but more like a volume its actions appear, where each day is a page and each chapter a year. 'tis a manuscript time shall full surely unfold, though with black-letter shaded, or shining with gold; the initial, like youth, glitters bright on its page, but its text is as dark--as the gloom of old age. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons impressed. though the title stands first it can little declare the contents which the pages ensuing shall bear; as little the first day of life can explain the succeeding events which shall glide in its train. the book follows next, and, delighted, we trace an elzevir's beauty, a gutenberg's grace; thus on pleasure we gaze with as raptured an eye, till, cut off like a volume imperfect, we die! then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons impressed. yet e'en thus imperfect, complete, or defaced, the skill of the printer is still to be traced; and though death bend us early in life to his will, the wise hand of our author is visible still. like the colophon lines is the epitaph's lay, which tells of what age and what nation our day, and, like the device of the printer, we bear the form of the founder, whose image we wear. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons impressed. the work thus completed its boards shall enclose, till a binding more bright and more beauteous it shows; and who can deny, when life's vision hath passed, that the dark boards of death shall surround us at last. yet our volume illumed with fresh splendours shall rise, to be gazed at by angels, and read to the skies, reviewed by its author, revised by his pen, in a fair new edition to flourish again. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons impressed. r. thomson. the wind over the chimney see, the fire is sinking low, dusky red the embers glow, while above them still i cower, while a moment more i linger, though the clock, with lifted finger, points beyond the midnight hour. sings the blackened log a tune learned in some forgotten june from a school-boy at his play, when they both were young together, heart of youth and summer weather making all their holiday. and the night-wind rising, hark! how above there in the dark, in the midnight and the snow, ever wilder, fiercer, grander. like the trumpets of iskander, all the noisy chimneys blow! every quivering tongue of flame seems to murmur some great name, seems to say to me, 'aspire!' but the night-wind answers, 'hollow are the visions that you follow, into darkness sinks your fire!' then the flicker of the blaze gleams on volumes of old days, written by masters of the art, loud through whose majestic pages rolls the melody of ages, throb the harp-strings of the heart. and again the tongues of flame start exulting and exclaim: 'these are prophets, bards, and seers; in the horoscope of nations, like ascendant constellations, they control the coming years.' but the night-wind cries: 'despair! those who walk with feet of air leave no long-enduring marks; at god's forges incandescent mighty hammers beat incessant, these are but the flying sparks. 'dust are all the hands that wrought; books are sepulchres of thought; the dead laurels of the dead rustle for a moment only, like the withered leaves in lonely churchyards at some passing tread.' suddenly the flame sinks down; sink the rumours of renown; and alone the night-wind drear clamours louder, wilder, vaguer,-- ''tis the brand of meleager dying on the hearth-stone here!' and i answer,--'though it be, why should that discomfort me? no endeavour is in vain; its reward is in the doing, and the rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.' h. w. longfellow. _wise books._ for half the truths they hold are honoured tombs.--g. eliot. _the spanish gipsy._ a great necromancer alonso of aragon was wont to say of himself that he was a great necromancer, for that he used to ask counsel of the dead: meaning books.--f. bacon, lord verulam. _apophthegmes._ books for magic resolve you, doctors, _bacon_ can by books make storming _boreas_ thunder from his cave, and dim fair _luna_ to a dark eclipse. the great arch-ruler, potentate of hell, trembles, when _bacon_ bids him, or his fiends, bow to the force of his pentageron. what art can work, the frolic friar knows, and therefore will i turn my magic books, and strain out necromancy to the deep. i have contrived and framed a head of brass (i made _belcephon_ hammer out the stuff), and that by art shall read philosophy: and i will strengthen _england_ by my skill, that if ten _caesars_ lived and reigned in _rome_, with all the legions _europe_ doth contain, they should not touch a grasse of english ground: the work that _ninus_ reared at _babylon_, the brazen walls framed by _semiramis_, carved out like to the portal of the sun, shall not be such as rings the _english_ strand from _dover_ to the market place of _rye_. r. greene. _the honourable history of friar bacon and friar bungay._ the secret of strength 'tis a custom with him i' the afternoon to sleep: there thou may'st brain him, having first seized his books; or with a log batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, or cut his wezand with thy knife. remember first to possess his books; for without them he's but a sot, as i am, nor hath not one spirit to command: they all do hate him as rootedly as i. burn but his books. w. shakespeare. _the tempest._ red letters and conjuring smith. the clerk of chatham: he can write and read and cast accompt. cade. o monstrous! smith. we took him setting of boys' copies. cade. here's a villain! smith. has a book in his pocket with red letters in't. cade. nay, then, he is a conjurer. w. shakespeare. _second part of king henry the sixth._ merlin's book _you_ read the book, my pretty vivien! o aye, it is but twenty pages long, but every page having an ample marge, and every marge enclosing in the midst a square of text that looks a little blot, the text no larger than the limbs of fleas; and every square of text an awful charm, writ in a language that has long gone by. so long, that mountains have arisen since with cities on their flanks--_you_ read the book! and every margin scribbled, crost, and crammed with comment, densest condensation, hard to mind and eye; but the long sleepless nights of my long life have made it easy to me. and none can read the text, not even i; and none can read the comment but myself; and in the comment did i find the charm. lord tennyson. _idylls of the king: vivien._ fast and loose fast bind, fast find: my bible was well bound; a thief came fast, and loose my bible found: was't bound and loose at once? how can that be? 'twas loose for him, although 'twas bound for me. j. taylor. read the scriptures read the scriptures, which hyperius holds available of itself; 'the mind is erected thereby from all worldly cares, and hath much quiet and tranquillity.' for, as austin well hath it, 'tis _scientia scientiarum, omni melle dulcior, omni pane suavior, omni vino hilarior_: 'tis the best nepenthe, surest cordial, sweetest alterative, presentest diverter: for neither as chrysostom well adds, 'those boughs and leaves of trees which are plashed for cattle to stand under, in the heat of the day, in summer, so much refresh them with their acceptable shade, as the reading of the scripture doth recreate and comfort a distressed soul, in sorrow and affliction.' paul bids us 'pray continually'; _quod cibus corpori, lectio animae facit_, saith seneca, 'as meat is to the body, such is reading to the soul.' 'to be at leisure without books is another hell, and to be buried alive.' cardan calls a library the physic of the soul; 'divine authors fortify the mind, make men bold and constant'; and (as hyperius adds) 'godly conference will not permit the mind to be tortured with absurd cogitations.'--r. burton. _the anatomy of melancholy._ to the holy bible o book! life's guide! how shall we part, and thou so long seized of my heart? take this last kiss; and let me weep true thanks to thee before i sleep. thou wert the first put in my hand when yet i could not understand, and daily didst my young eyes lead to letters, till i learnt to read. but as rash youths, when once grown strong, fly from their nurses to the throng, where they new consorts choose, and stick to those till either hurt or sick; so with the first light gained from thee ran i in chase of vanity, cried dross for gold, and never thought my first cheap book had all i sought. long reigned this vogue; and thou cast by, with meek, dumb looks didst woo mine eye, and oft left open would'st convey a sudden and most searching ray into my soul, with whose quick touch refining still, i struggled much. by this mild art of love at length thou overcam'st my sinful strength, and having brought me home, didst there show me that pearl i sought elsewhere,-- gladness, and peace, and hope, and love, the secret favours of the dove; her quickening kindness, smiles, and kisses, exalted pleasures, crowning blisses, fruition, union, glory, life, thou didst lead to, and still all strife. living, thou wert my soul's sure ease, and dying mak'st me go in peace:-- thy next effects no tongue can tell; farewell, o book of god! farewell! h. vaughan. on buying the bible 'tis but a folly to rejoice or boast how small a price thy well-bought pen'worth cost: until thy death thou shalt not fully know whether thy purchase be good cheap, or no; and at that day, believe 't, it will appear if not extremely cheap, extremely dear. f. quarles. _divine fancies._ 'i read only the bible' read the most useful books, and that regularly, and constantly. steadily spend all the morning in this employ, or, at least, five hours in four-and-twenty. 'but i read only the bible.' then you ought to teach others to read only the bible, and, by parity of reason, to hear only the bible. but if so, you need preach no more. 'just so,' said george bell. 'and what is the fruit? why, now he neither reads the bible, nor anything else. this is rank enthusiasm.' if you need no book but the bible, you are got above st. paul. he wanted others too. 'bring the books,' says he, 'but especially the parchments,' those wrote on parchment. 'but i have no taste for reading.' contract a taste for it by use, or return to your trade.--j. wesley. _minutes of some late conversations._ a man of one book i want to know one thing,--the way to heaven; how to land safe on the happy shore. god himself has condescended to teach me the way. for this very end he came from heaven. he hath written it down in a book. o give me the book! at any price, give me the book of god. i have it: here is knowledge enough for me. let me be _homo unius libri_. here then i am, far from the busy ways of men. i sit down alone; only god is here. in his presence i open, i read his book.... and what i thus learn, that i teach.--j. wesley. _preface to sermons._ homo unius libri when st. thomas aquinas was asked in what manner a man might best become learned, he answered, 'by reading one book.' the _homo unius libri_ is indeed proverbially formidable to all conversational figurantes.--r. southey. _the doctor._ the scriptures: what are they? i remember he alleged many a scripture, but those i valued not; the scriptures, thought i, what are they? a dead letter, a little ink and paper, of three or four shillings price. alas! what is the scripture? give me a ballad, a news-book, george on horseback, or bevis of southampton; give me some book that teaches curious arts, that tells of old fables; but for the holy scriptures i cared not.--j. bunyan. _sighs from hell._ 'the pilgrim's progress' i know of no book, the bible excepted, as above all comparison, which i, according to my judgement and experience, could so safely recommend as teaching and enforcing the whole saving truth according to the mind that was in christ jesus, as the _pilgrim's progress_. it is, in my conviction, incomparably the best _summa theologiae evangelicae_ ever produced by a writer not miraculously inspired. this wonderful work is one of the few books which may be read repeatedly at different times, and each time with a new and different pleasure. i read it once as a theologian--and let me assure you that there is great theological acumen in the work--once with devotional feelings--and once as a poet. i could not have believed beforehand that calvinism could be painted in such exquisitely delightful colours.... the _pilgrim's progress_ is composed in the lowest style of english, without slang or false grammar. if you were to polish it, you would at once destroy the reality of the vision. for works of imagination should be written in very plain language; the more imaginative they are the more necessary it is to be plain.--s. t. coleridge. _table talk._ no book like the bible i would have you every morning read a portion of the holy scriptures, till you have read the bible from the beginning to the end: observe it well, read it reverently and attentively, set your heart upon it, and lay it up in your memory and make it the direction of your life: it will make you a wise and a good man. i have been acquainted somewhat with men and books, and have had long experience in learning, and in the world: there is no book like the bible for excellent learning, wisdom, and use; and it is want of understanding in them that think or speak otherwise.--sir m. hale. _a letter to one of his sons, after his recovery from the smallpox._ to a family bible what household thoughts around thee, as their shrine, cling reverently!--of anxious looks beguiled, my mother's eyes, upon thy page divine, each day were bent--her accents gravely mild, breathed out thy love: whilst i, a dreamy child, wandered on breeze-like fancies oft away, to some lone tuft of gleaming spring-flowers wild, some fresh-discovered nook for woodland play, some secret nest: yet would the solemn word at times, with kindlings of young wonder heard, fall on my wakened spirit, there to be a seed not lost:--for which, in darker years, o book of heaven! i pour, with grateful tears, heart blessings on the holy dead and thee! felicia d. hemans. the book of books no man was a greater lover of books than he [shelley]. he was rarely to be seen, unless attending to other people's affairs, without a volume of some sort, generally of plato or one of the greek tragedians. nor will those who understand the real spirit of his scepticism, be surprised to hear that one of his companions was the bible. he valued it for the beauty of some of its contents, for the dignity of others, and the curiosity of all; though the philosophy of solomon he thought too _epicurean_, and the inconsistencies of other parts afflicted him. his favourite part was the book of job, which he thought the grandest of tragedies. he projected founding one of his own upon it; and i will undertake to say, that job would have sat in that tragedy with a patience and profundity of thought worthy of the original. being asked on one occasion, what book he would save for himself if he could save no other? he answered, 'the oldest book, the bible.'--j. h. leigh hunt. _my books._ a very priceless thing precious temporal things are growing [in these years of peace]; priceless spiritual things. we know the shakespeare dramaturgy; the rare-ben and elder-dramatist affair; which has now reached its culmination. yes; and precisely when the wit-combats at the mermaid are waning somewhat, and our shakespeare is about packing up for stratford,--there comes out another very priceless thing; a correct translation of the bible; that which we still use. priceless enough this latter; of importance unspeakable! reynolds and chadderton petitioned for it, at the hampton-court conference, long since; and now, in , by labour of reynolds, chadderton, dr. abbot, and other prodigiously learned and earnest persons, 'forty-seven in number,' it comes out beautifully printed; dedicated to the dread sovereign; really in part a benefit of his to us. and so we have it here to read, that book of books: 'barbarous enough to rouse, tender enough to assuage, and possessing how many other properties,' says goethe;--possessing this property, inclusive of all, add we, that it is written under the eye of the eternal; that it is of a sincerity like very death; the truest utterance that ever came by alphabetic letters from the soul of man. through which, as through a window divinely opened, all men could look, and can still look, beyond the visual air-firmaments and mysterious time-oceans, into the light-sea of infinitude, into the stillness of eternity; and discern in glimpses, with such emotions and practical suggestions as there may be, their far-distant, longforgotten home.--t. carlyle. _historical sketches._ material for poesy what can we imagine more proper for the ornaments of wit and learning in the story of deucalion than in that of noah? why will not the actions of samson afford as plentiful matter as the labours of hercules? why is not jephthah's daughter as good a woman as iphigenia? and the friendship of david and jonathan more worthy celebration than that of theseus and pirithous? does not the passage of moses and the israelites into the holy land yield incomparably more poetic variety than the voyages of ulysses or aeneas? are the obsolete, threadbare tales of thebes and troy half so stored with great, heroical, and supernatural actions (since verse will needs find or make such) as the wars of joshua, of the judges, of david, and divers others?... all the books of the bible are either already most admirable and exalted pieces of poesy, or are the best material in the world for it.--a. cowley. _preface to davideis._ sacred and profane writers let those who will, hang rapturously o'er the flowing eloquence of plato's page, repeat, with flashing eye, the sounds that pour from homer's verse as with a torrent's rage; let those who list, ask tully to assuage wild hearts with high-wrought periods, and restore the reign of rhetoric; or maxims sage winnow from seneca's sententious lore. not these, but judah's hallowed bards, to me are dear: isaiah's noble energy; the temperate grief of job; the artless strain of ruth and pastoral amos; the high songs of david; and the tale of joseph's wrongs, simply pathetic, eloquently plain. sir aubrey de vere. a standard for language it is your lordship's observation, that if it were not for the bible and common prayer book in the vulgar tongue, we should hardly be able to understand anything that was written among us a hundred years ago; which is certainly true: for those books, being perpetually read in churches, have proved a kind of standard for language, especially to the common people.... as to the greatest parts of our liturgy, compiled long before the translation of the bible now in use, and little altered since, these seem to be in as great strains of true sublime eloquence as are anywhere to be found in our language.--j. swift. _a proposal for correcting, improving and ascertaining the english tongue_ (letter to the earl of oxford). the grand mine of diction ... he [the translator of homer] will find one english book and one only, where, as in the _iliad_ itself, perfect plainness of speech is allied with perfect nobleness; and that book is the bible. no one could see this more clearly than pope saw it: 'this pure and noble simplicity,' he says, 'is nowhere in such perfection as in the scripture and homer': yet even with pope a woman is a 'fair', a father is a 'sire', and an old man a 'reverend sage', and so on through all the phrases of that pseudo-augustan, and most unbiblical, vocabulary. the bible, however, is undoubtedly the grand mine of diction for the translator of homer; and, if he knows how to discriminate truly between what will suit him and what will not, the bible may afford him also invaluable lessons of style.--m. arnold. _on translating homer._ the english of the bible who will say that the uncommon beauty and marvellous english of the protestant bible is not one of the great strongholds of heresy in this country? it lives on in the ear, like a music that never can be forgotten, like the sound of church bells which the convert hardly knows how he can forgo. its felicities seem often to be almost things rather than mere words. it is part of the national mind, and the anchor of the national seriousness.... nay, it is worshipped with a positive idolatry, in extenuation of whose grotesque fanaticism its intrinsic beauty pleads availingly with the man of letters and the scholar. the memory of the dead passes into it. the potent traditions of childhood are stereotyped in its verses. the power of all the griefs and trials of a man is hidden beneath its words. it is the representative of his best moments, and all that there has been about him of soft, and gentle, and pure, and penitent, and good, speaks to him for ever out of his english bible. it is his sacred thing which doubt never dimmed and controversy never soiled. in the length and breadth of the land there is not a protestant, with one spark of religiousness about him, whose spiritual biography is not his saxon bible.--f. w. faber. _the interest and characteristics of the lives of the saints._ the bible and burns search scotland over, from the pentland to the solway, and there is not a cottage-hut so poor and wretched as to be without its bible; and hardly one that, on the same shelf, and next to it, does not treasure a burns. have the people degenerated since their adoption of this new manual? has their attachment to the book of books declined? are their hearts less firmly bound, than were their fathers', to the old faith and the old virtues? i believe he that knows the most of the country will be the readiest to answer all these questions, as every lover of genius and virtue would desire to hear them answered.... extraordinary ... has been the unanimity of his critics. while differing widely in their estimates of his character and _morale_, they have, without a single exception, expressed a lofty idea of his powers of mind and of the excellence of his poetry. here, as on the subject of shakespeare, and on scarcely any other, have whigs and tories, infidels and christians, bigoted scotchmen and bigoted sons of john bull, the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the prosaic and the enthusiastic lovers of poetry, the strait-laced and the morally lax, met and embraced each other.--j. g. lockhart. _life of burns._ the big ha'-bible the cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, they round the ingle form a circle wide; the sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, the big ha'-bible, ance his father's pride: * * * * * the priest-like father reads the sacred page, how abram was the friend of god on high; or moses bade eternal warfare wage with amalek's ungracious progeny; or how the royal bard did groaning lie beneath the stroke of heaven's avenging ire; or job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry; or rapt isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. r. burns. _the cotter's saturday night._ 'of the imitation of christ' she read on and on in the old book, devouring eagerly the dialogues with the invisible teacher, the pattern of sorrow, the source of all strength; returning to it after she had been called away, and reading till the sun went down behind the willows. with all the hurry of an imagination that could never rest in the present, she sat in the deepening twilight forming plans of self-humiliation and entire devotedness; and, in the ardour of first discovery, renunciation seemed to her the entrance into that satisfaction which she had so long been craving in vain. she had not perceived--how could she until she had lived longer?--the inmost truth of the old monk's outpourings, that renunciation remains sorrow, though a sorrow borne willingly. maggie was still panting for happiness, and was in ecstasy because she had found the key to it. she knew nothing of doctrines and systems--of mysticism or quietism; but this voice out of the far-off middle ages was the direct communication of a human soul's belief and experience, and came to maggie as an unquestioned message. i suppose that is the reason why the small old-fashioned book, for which you need only pay sixpence at a bookstall, works miracles to this day, turning bitter waters into sweetness; while expensive sermons and treatises, newly issued, leave all things as they were before. it was written down by a hand that waited for the heart's prompting; it is the chronicle of a solitary, hidden anguish, struggle, trust and triumph--not written on velvet cushions to teach endurance to those who are treading with bleeding feet on the stones. and so it remains to all time a lasting record of human needs and human consolations: the voice of a brother who, ages ago, felt and suffered and renounced--in the cloister, perhaps, with serge gown and tonsured head, with much chanting and long fasts, and with a fashion of speech different from ours--but under the same silent far-off heavens, and with the same passionate desires, the same strivings, the same failures, the same weariness.--g. eliot. _the mill on the floss._ literary geography _scotland._ the globe we inhabit is divisible into two worlds; one hardly less tangible, and far more known than the other,--the common geographical world, and the world of books; and the latter may be as geographically set forth. a man of letters, conversant with poetry and romance, might draw out a very curious map, in which this world of books should be delineated and filled up, to the delight of all genuine readers, as truly as that in guthrie or pinkerton. to give a specimen, and begin with scotland,--scotland would not be the mere territory it is, with a scale of so many miles to a degree, and such and such a population. who (except a patriot or cosmopolite) cares for the miles or the men, or knows that they exist, in any degree of consciousness with which he cares for the never-dying population of books? how many generations of men have passed away, and will pass, in ayrshire or dumfries, and not all the myriads be as interesting to us as a single burns? what have we known of them, or shall ever know, whether lairds, lords, or ladies, in comparison with the inspired ploughman? but we know of the bards and the lasses, and the places which he has recorded in song; we know the scene of 'tam o' shanter's' exploit; we know the pastoral landscapes ... and the scenes immortalized in walter scott and the old ballads; and, therefore, the book-map of scotland would present us with the most prominent of these. we should have the border, with its banditti, towns, and woods; tweedside, melrose, and roslin, 'edina,' otherwise called edinburgh and auld reekie, or the town of hume, robertson, and others; woodhouselee, and other classical and haunted places; the bower built by the fair hands of 'bessie bell' and 'mary gray'; the farm-houses of burns's friends; the scenes of his loves and sorrows; the land of 'old mortality', of the 'gentle shepherd', and of 'ossian'. the highlands, and the great blue billowy domains of heather, would be distinctly marked out, in their most poetical regions; and we should have the tracks of ben jonson to hawthornden, of 'rob roy' to his hiding-places, and of 'jeanie deans' towards england. abbotsford, be sure, would not be left out; nor the house of the 'antiquary'--almost as real a man as his author. nor is this all: for we should have older scotland, the scotland of james the first, and of 'peeblis at the play', and gawin douglas, and bruce, and wallace; we should have older scotland still, the scotland of ariosto, with his tale of 'ginevra', and the new 'andromeda', delivered from the sea-monster at the isle of ebuda (the hebrides); and there would be the residence of the famous 'launcelot of the lake', at berwick, called the joyeuse garde, and other ancient sites of chivalry and romance; nor should the nightingale be left out in 'ginevra's' bower, for ariosto has put it there, and there, accordingly, it is and has been heard, let ornithology say what it will; for what ornithologist knows so much of the nightingale as a poet? we would have an inscription put on the spot--'here the nightingale sings, contrary to what has been affirmed by white and others.' this is the scotland of books, and a beautiful place it is. i will venture to affirm, sir, even to yourself, that it is a more beautiful place than the other scotland, always excepting to an exile or a lover. _england._ book-england, on the map, would shine as the albion of the old giants; as the 'logres' of the knights of the round table; as the scene of amadis of gaul, with its _island_ of windsor; as the abode of fairies, of the druids, of the divine countess of coventry, of guy, earl of warwick, of 'alfred' (whose reality was a romance), of the fair rosamond, of the _arcades_ and _comus_, of chaucer and spenser, of the poets of the globe and the mermaid, the wits of twickenham and hampton court. fleet street would be johnson's fleet street; the tower would belong to julius caesar; and blackfriars to suckling, vandyke, and the _dunciad_. chronology and the mixture of truth and fiction, that is to say, of one sort of truth and another, would come to nothing in a work of this kind; for, as it has been before observed, things are real in proportion as they are impressive. and who has not as 'gross, open, and palpable' an idea of 'falstaff' in eastcheap, as of 'captain grose' himself, beating up his quarters? a map of fictitious, literary, and historical london, would, of itself, constitute a great curiosity. _ireland._ swift speaks of maps, in which they place elephants for want of towns. here would be towns and elephants too, the popular and the prodigious. how much would not swift do for ireland, in this geography of wit and talent! what a figure would not st. patrick's cathedral make! the other day, mention was made of a 'dean of st. patrick's' _now living_; as if there was, or ever could be, more than one dean of st. patrick's! in the irish maps we should have the saint himself driving out all venomous creatures (what a pity that the most venomous retain a property as absentees!); and there would be the old irish kings, and o'donoghue with his white horse, and the lady of the 'gold wand' who made the miraculous virgin pilgrimage, and all the other marvels of lakes and ladies, and the round towers still remaining to perplex the antiquary, and goldsmith's 'deserted village', and goldsmith himself, and the birthplaces of steele and sterne, and the brief hour of poor lord edward fitzgerald, and carolan with his harp, and the schools of the poor latin boys under the hedges, and castle rackrent, and edgeworth's-town, and the giant's causeway, and ginleas and other classical poverties, and spenser's castle on the river mulla, with the wood-gods whom his pipe drew round him.--j. h. leigh hunt. _the world of books._ on 'coryat's crudites' tom coryat, i have seen thy crudities, and, methinks, very strangely brewed--it is with piece and patch together glued--it is and how, like thee, ill-favoured hued--it is in many lines i see that lewd--it is and therefore fit to be subdued--it is within thy broiling brain-pan stewed--it is and 'twixt thy grinding jaws well chewed--it is within thy stomach closely mewed--it is and last, in court and country spewed--it is but now by wisdom's eye that viewed--it is they all agree that very rude--it is with foolery so full endued--it is that wondrously by fools pursued--it is as sweet as gall's amaritude--it is and seeming full of pulchritude--it is but more to write, but to intrude--it is and therefore wisdom to conclude--it is. j. taylor. _the world's eighth wonder._ literature for desolate islands i've thought very often 'twould be a good thing in all public collections of books, if a wing were set off by itself, like the seas from the dry lands, marked _literature suited to desolate islands_, and filled with such books as could never be read save by readers of proofs, forced to do it for bread,-- such books as one's wrecked on in small country taverns, such as hermits might mortify over in caverns, such as satan, if printing had then been invented, as a climax of woe, would to job have presented, such as crusoe might dip in, although there are few so outrageously cornered by fate as poor crusoe; * * * * * i propose to shut up every doer of wrong with these desperate books, for such term, short or long, as by statute in such cases made and provided, shall be by you wise legislators decided. j. r. lowell. _a fable for critics._ i have sometimes heard of an iliad in a nutshell; but it has been my fortune to have much oftener seen a nutshell in an iliad.--j. swift. _a tale of a tub._ books for the salon i am sure that if madame de sablé lived now, books would be seen in her salon as part of its natural indispensable furniture; not brought out, and strewed here and there when 'company was coming', but as habitual presences in her room, wanting which, she would want a sense of warmth and comfort and companionship. putting out books as a sort of preparation for an evening, as a means for making it pass agreeably, is running a great risk. in the first place, books are by such people, and on such occasions, chosen more for their outside than their inside. and in the next, they are the 'mere material with which wisdom (or wit) builds'; and if persons don't know how to use the material, they will suggest nothing. i imagine madame de sablé would have the volumes she herself was reading, or those which, being new, contained any matter of present interest, left about, as they would naturally be. i could also fancy that her guests would not feel bound to talk continually, whether they had anything to say or not, but that there might be pauses of not unpleasant silence--a quiet darkness out of which they might be certain that the little stars would glimmer soon. i can believe that in such pauses of repose, some one might open a book, and catch on a suggestive sentence, might dash off again into a full flow of conversation. but i cannot fancy any grand preparations for what was to be said among people, each of whom brought the best dish in bringing himself; and whose own store of living, individual thought and feeling, and mother-wit, would be infinitely better than any cut-and-dry determination to devote the evening to mutual improvement. if people are really good and wise, their goodness and their wisdom flow out unconsciously, and benefit like sunlight. so, books for reference, books for impromptu suggestion, but never books to serve for texts to a lecture.--elizabeth c. gaskell. _company manners._ far more seemly were it for thee to have thy study full of books, than thy purse full of money.--j. lyly. _euphues._ the library and the grave to sir h. g. sir,--this letter hath more merits than one of more diligence, for i wrote it in bed, and with much pain. i have occasion to sit late some nights in my study (which your books make a pretty library) and now i find that that room hath a wholesome emblematic use: for having under it a vault, i make that promise me that i shall die reading; since my book and a grave are so near.--john donne. _letters to several persons of honour._ the library a glorious court that place, that does contain my books, the best companions, is to me a glorious court, where hourly i converse with the old sages and philosophers. and sometimes, for variety, i confer with kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels; calling their victories, if unjustly got, unto a strict account: and in my fancy, deface their ill-planned statues. can i then part with such constant pleasures, to embrace uncertain vanities? no: be it your care to augment your heap of wealth; it shall be mine to increase in knowledge. lights there for my study! j. fletcher. _the elder brother._ the library as study i like a great library next my study; but for the study itself, give me a small snug place, almost entirely walled with books. there should be only one window in it, looking upon trees. some prefer a place with few, or no books at all--nothing but a chair or a table, like epictetus; but i should say that these were philosophers, not lovers of books, if i did not recollect that montaigne was both. he had a study in a round tower, walled as aforesaid. it is true, one forgets one's books while writing--at least they say so. for my part, i think i have them in a sort of sidelong mind's eye; like a second thought, which is none--like a waterfall, or a whispering wind. i dislike a grand library to study in. i mean an immense apartment, with books all in museum order, especially wire-safed. i say nothing against the museum itself, or public libraries. they are capital places to go to, but not to sit in; and talking of this, i hate to read in public, and in strange company. the jealous silence; the dissatisfied looks of the messengers; the inability to help yourself; the not knowing whether you really ought to trouble the messengers, much less the gentleman in black, or brown, who is, perhaps, half a trustee; with a variety of other jarrings between privacy and publicity, prevent one's settling heartily to work.... a grand private library, which the master of the house also makes his study, never looks to me like a real place of books, much less of authorship. i cannot take kindly to it. it is certainly not out of envy; for three parts of the books are generally trash, and i can seldom think of the rest and the proprietor together. it reminds me of a fine gentleman, of a collector, of a patron, of gil blas and the marquis of marialva; of anything but genius and comfort. i have a particular hatred of a round table (not _the_ round table, for that was a dining one) covered and irradiated with books, and never met with one in the house of a clever man but once. it is the reverse of montaigne's round tower. instead of bringing the books around you, they all seem turning another way, and eluding your hands. conscious of my propriety and comfort in these matters, i take an interest in the bookcases as well as the books of my friends. i long to meddle and dispose them after my own notions.--j. h. leigh hunt. _my books._ come, and take choice of all my library. w. shakespeare. _titus andronicus._ libraries are the wardrobes of literature, whence men, properly informed, might bring forth something for ornament, much for curiosity, and more for use.--g. dyer. the study here, while the night-wind wreaked its frantic will on the loose ocean and the rock-bound hill, rent the cracked topsail from its quivering yard, and rived the oak a thousand storms had scarred, fenced by these walls the peaceful taper shone, nor felt a breath to slant its trembling cone. not all unblessed the mild interior scene where the red curtain spread its falling screen; o'er some light task the lonely hours were passed, and the long evening only flew too fast; or the wide chair its leathern arms would lend in genial welcome to some easy friend, stretched on its bosom with relaxing nerves, slow moulding, plastic, to its hollow curves; perchance indulging, if of generous creed, in brave sir walter's dream-compelling weed. or, happier still, the evening hour would bring to the round table its expected ring, and while the punch-bowl's sounding depths were stirred,-- its silver cherubs, smiling as they heard,-- our hearts would open, as at evening's hour the close-sealed primrose frees its hidden flower. such the warm life this dim retreat has known, not quite deserted when its guests were flown; nay, filled with friends, an unobtrusive set, guiltless of calls and cards and etiquette, ready to answer, never known to ask, claiming no service, prompt for every task. on those dark shelves no housewife hand profanes, o'er his mute files the monarch folio reigns; a mingled race, the wreck of chance and time, that talk all tongues and breathe of every clime, each knows his place, and each may claim his part in some quaint corner of his master's heart. this old decretal, won from kloss's hoards, thick-leaved, brass-cornered, ribbed with oaken boards, stands the grey patriarch of the graver rows, its fourth ripe century narrowing to its close; not daily conned, but glorious still to view, with glistening letters wrought in red and blue. there towers stagira's all-embracing sage, the aldine anchor on his opening page; there sleep the births of plato's heavenly mind, in yon dark tomb by jealous clasps confined. _olim e libris_ (dare i call it mine?) of yale's grave head and killingworth's divine! in those square sheets the songs of maro fill the silvery types of smooth-leaved baskerville; high over all, in close, compact array, their classic wealth the elzevirs display. in lower regions of the sacred space range the dense volumes of a humbler race; there grim chirurgeons all their mysteries teach, in spectral pictures, or in crabbèd speech; harvey and haller, fresh from nature's page, shoulder the dreamers of an earlier age, lully and geber, and the learnèd crew that loved to talk of all they could not do. why count the rest,--those names of later days that many love, and all agree to praise,-- or point the titles, where a glance may read the dangerous lines of party or of creed? too well, perchance, the chosen list would show what few may care and none can claim to know. each has his features, whose exterior seal a brush may copy, or a sunbeam steal; go to his study,--on the nearest shelf stands the mosaic portrait of himself. what though for months the tranquil dust descends, whitening the heads of these mine ancient friends, while the damp offspring of the modern press flaunts on my table with its pictured dress; not less i love each dull familiar face, nor less should miss it from the appointed place; i snatch the book, along whose burning leaves his scarlet web our wild romancer weaves, yet, while proud hester's fiery pangs i share, my old magnalia must be standing _there_! o. w. holmes. the consulting room of a wise man the great consulting room of a wise man is a library. when i am in perplexity about life, i have but to come here, and, without fee or reward, i commune with the wisest souls that god has blessed the world with. if i want a discourse on immortality plato comes to my help. if i want to know the human heart shakespeare opens all its chambers. whatever be my perplexity or doubt, i know exactly the great man to call to me, and he comes in the kindest way, he listens to my doubts and tells me his convictions. so that a library may be regarded as the solemn chamber in which a man can take counsel with all that have been wise and great and good and glorious amongst the men that have gone before him. if we come down for a moment and look at the bare and immediate utilities of a library we find that here a man gets himself ready for his calling, arms himself for his profession, finds out the facts that are to determine his trade, prepares himself for his examination. the utilities of it are endless and priceless. it is too a place of pastime; for man has no amusement more innocent, more sweet, more gracious, more elevating, and more fortifying than he can find in a library.--george dawson. _address at the opening of the birmingham free reference library_, . the library a key to character the first thing, naturally, when one enters a scholar's study or library, is to look at his books. one gets a notion very speedily of his tastes and the range of his pursuits by a glance round his bookshelves. of course, you know there are many fine houses where a library is a part of the upholstery, so to speak. books in handsome binding kept locked under plate-glass in showy dwarf bookcases are as important to stylish establishments as servants in livery, who sit with folded arms, are to stylish equipages. i suppose those wonderful statues with the folded arms do sometimes change their attitude, and i suppose those books with the gilded backs do sometimes get opened, but it is nobody's business whether they do or not, and it is best not to ask too many questions. this sort of thing is common enough, but there is another case that may prove deceptive if you undertake to judge from appearances. once in a while you will come on a house where you will find a family of readers and almost no library. some of the most indefatigable devourers of literature have very few books. they belong to book clubs, they haunt the public libraries, they borrow of friends, and somehow or other get hold of everything they want, scoop out all it holds for them, and have done with it.--o. w. holmes. _the poet at the breakfast-table._ the scent of books i know men who say they had as lief read any book in a library copy as in one from their own shelf. to me that is unintelligible. for one thing, i know every book of mine by its _scent_, and i have but to put my nose between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things. my gibbon, for example, my well-bound eight-volume milman edition, which i have read and read and read again for more than thirty years--never do i open it but the scent of the noble pages restores to me all the exultant happiness of that moment when i received it as a prize. or my shakespeare, the great cambridge shakespeare--it has an odour which carries me yet further back in life; for these volumes belonged to my father, and before i was old enough to read them with understanding, it was often permitted me, as a treat, to take down one of them from the bookcase, and reverently to turn the leaves. the volumes smell exactly as they did in that old time, and what a strange tenderness comes upon me when i hold one of them in hand. for that reason i do not often read shakespeare in this edition.--g. gissing. _the private papers of henry ryecroft._ of his gentleness, knowing i loved my books, he furnished me, from mine own library with volumes that i prize above my dukedom. w. shakespeare. _the tempest._ an episcopal library here, duly placed on consecrated ground, the studied works of many an age are found, the ancient fathers' reverend remains; the roman laws, which freed a world from chains; whate'er of law passed from immortal greece to latin lands, and gained a rich increase; all that blessed israel drank in showers from heaven, or afric sheds, soft as the dew of even. alcuin. a modern library the doctor with himself decreed to nod--or, much the same, to read. he always seemed a wondrous lover of painted leaf and turkey cover, while no regard at all was had to sots in homely russet clad, concluding he must be within a calf, that wore without his skin. but, though his thoughts were fixed to read, the treatise was not yet decreed: uncertain to devote the day to politics or else to play; what theme would best his genius suit, grave morals or a dull dispute, where both contending champions boast the victory which neither lost; as chiefs are oft in story read each to pursue, when neither fled. he enters now the shining dome where crowded authors sweat for room; so close a man could hardly say which were more fixed, the shelves or they. * * * * * to please the eye, the highest space a set of wooden volumes grace; pure timber authors that contain as much as some that boast a brain; that alma mater never viewed, without degrees to writers hewed: yet solid thus just emblems show of the dull brotherhood below, smiling their rivals to survey, as great and real blocks as they. distinguished then in even rows, here shines the verse and there the prose; (for, though britannia fairer looks united, 'tis not so with books): the champions of each different art had stations all assigned apart, fearing the rival chiefs might be for quarrels still, nor dead agree. the schoolmen first in long array their bulky lumber round display; seemed to lament their wretched doom, and heave for more convenient room; while doctrine each of weight contains to crack his shelves as well as brains; since all with him were thought to dream, that flagged before they filled a ream: his authors wisely taught to prize, not for their merit, but their size; no surer method ever found than buying writers by the pound; for heaven must needs his breast inspire, that scribbling filled each month a quire, and claimed a station on his shelves, who scorned each sot who fooled in twelves. w. king. (?) _bibliotheca._ safe and untouched 'in another century it may be impossible to find a collection of the whole [greek tragedies] unless some learned and rich man, like pericles, or some protecting king, like hiero, should preserve them in his library.' 'prudently have you considered how to preserve all valuable authors. the cedar doors of a royal library fly open to receive them: aye, there they will be safe ... and untouched.'--w. s. landor. _pericles and aspasia._ cibber's library next o'er his books his eyes began to roll, in pleasing memory of all he stole, how here he sipped, how there he plundered snug, and sucked all o'er, like an industrious bug. here lay poor fletcher's half-eat scenes, and here the frippery of crucified moliere; there hapless shakespeare, yet of tibbald sore, wished he had blotted for himself before. the rest on outside merit but presume, or serve (like other fools) to fill a room; such with their shelves as due proportion hold, or their fond parents dressed in red and gold; or where the pictures for the page atone and quarles is saved by beauties not his own. here swells the shelf with ogilby the great; there, stamped with arms, newcastle shines complete: here all his suffering brotherhood retire, and 'scape the martyrdom of jakes and fire: a gothic library! of greece and rome well purged, and worthy settle, banks, and broome. but, high above, more solid learning shone, the classics of an age that heard of none; there caxton slept, with wynkyn at his side, one clasped in wood, and one in strong cow-hide; there saved by spice, like mummies, many a year, dry bodies of divinity appear; de lyra there a dreadful front extends, and here the groaning shelves philemon bends. of these twelve volumes, twelve of amplest size, redeemed from tapers and defrauded pies, inspired he seizes; these an altar raise; an hecatomb of pure unsullied lays that altar crowns; a folio commonplace founds the whole pile, of all his works the base; quartos, octavos, shape the lessening pyre; a twisted birthday ode completes the spire. a. pope. _the dunciad._ mr. shandy's library few men of great genius had exercised their parts in writing books upon the subject of great noses: by the trotting of my lean horse, the thing is incredible! and i am quite lost in my understanding, when i am considering what a treasure of precious time and talents together has been wasted upon worse subjects--and how many millions of books in all languages, and in all possible types and bindings, have been fabricated upon points not half so much tending to the unity and peace-making of the world. what was to be had, however, he set the greater store by; and though my father would ofttimes sport with my uncle toby's library--which, by the by, was ridiculous enough--yet at the very same time he did it, he collected every book and treatise which had been systematically wrote upon noses, with as much care as my honest uncle toby had done those upon military architecture.... my father's collection was not great, but, to make amends, it was curious; and consequently he was some time in making it ... he got hold of prignitz--purchased scroderus, andrea paraeus, bouchet's evening conferences, and above all, the great and learned hafen slawkenbergius.... to do justice to slawkenbergius, he has entered the list with a stronger lance, and taken a much larger career in it than any one man who had ever entered it before him--and indeed, in many respects, deserves to be en-niched as a prototype for all writers, of voluminous works at least, to model their books by--for he has taken in, sir, the whole subject--examined every part of it dialectically----then brought it into full day; dilucidating it with all the light which either the collision of his own natural parts could strike--or the profoundest knowledge of the sciences had empowered him to cast upon it--collating, collecting, and compiling--begging, borrowing, and stealing, as he went along, all that had been wrote or wrangled thereupon in the schools and porticoes of the learned: so that slawkenbergius his book may properly be considered, not only as a model--but as a thorough-stitched digest and regular institute of noses, comprehending in it all that is or can be needful to be known about them. for this cause it is that i forbear to speak of so many (otherwise) valuable books and treatises of my father's collecting, wrote either, plump upon noses--or collaterally touching them;----such for instance as prignitz, now lying upon the table before me, who with infinite learning, and from the most candid and scholar-like examination of above four thousand different skulls, in upwards of twenty charnel-houses in silesia, which he had rummaged----has informed us, that the mensuration and configuration of the osseous or bony parts of human noses, in any given tract of country, except crim tartary, where they are all crushed down by the thumb, so that no judgement can be formed upon them--are much nearer alike, than the world imagines.--l. sterne. _tristram shandy._ dominie sampson in the library dominie sampson was occupied, body and soul, in the arrangement of the late bishop's library, which had been sent from liverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts from the seaport at which it was landed. sampson's joy at beholding the ponderous contents of these chests arranged upon the floor of the large apartment, from whence he was to transfer them to the shelves, baffles all description. he grinned like an ogre, swung his arms like the sails of a windmill, shouted 'prodigious' till the roof rung to his raptures. 'he had never,' he said, 'seen so many books together, except in the college library;' and now his dignity and delight in being superintendent of the collection, raised him, in his own opinion, almost to the rank of the academical librarian, whom he had always regarded as the greatest and happiest man on earth. neither were his transports diminished upon a hasty examination of the contents of these volumes. some, indeed, of belles lettres, poems, plays, or memoirs, he tossed indignantly aside, with the implied censure of 'psha', or 'frivolous'; but the greater and bulkier part of the collection bore a very different character. the deceased prelate, a divine of the old and deeply-learned cast, had loaded his shelves with volumes which displayed the antique and venerable attributes so happily described by a modern poet: that weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid; those ample clasps, of solid metal made; the close-pressed leaves unoped for many an age; the dull red edging of the well-filled page; on the broad back the stubborn ridges rolled, where yet the title stands in tarnished gold. books of theology and controversial divinity, commentaries, and polyglots, sets of the fathers, and sermons, which might each furnish forth ten brief discourses of modern date, books of science, ancient and modern, classical authors in their best and rarest forms; such formed the late bishop's venerable library, and over such the eye of dominie sampson gloated with rapture. he entered them in the catalogue in his best running hand, forming each letter with the accuracy of a lover writing a valentine, and placed each individually on the destined shelf with all the reverence which i have seen a lady pay to a jar of old china. with all this zeal his labours advanced slowly. he often opened a volume when half-way up the library-steps, fell upon some interesting passage, and, without shifting his inconvenient posture, continued immersed in the fascinating perusal until the servant pulled him by the skirts to assure him that dinner waited. he then repaired to the parlour, bolted his food down his capacious throat in squares of three inches, answered aye or no at random to whatever question was asked at him, and again hurried back to the library as soon as his napkin was removed, and sometimes with it hanging round his neck like a pinafore-- how happily the days of thalaba went by! sir w. scott. _guy mannering._ me, poor man,--my library was dukedom large enough. w. shakespeare. _the tempest._ the peasant's library on shelf of deal beside the cuckoo-clock, of cottage-reading rests the chosen stock; learning we lack, not books, but have a kind for all our wants, a meat for every mind: the tale for wonder and the joke for whim, the half-sung sermon and the half-groaned hymn. no need of classing; each within its place, the feeling finger in the dark can trace; 'first from the corner, farthest from the wall,' such all the rules, and they suffice for all. there pious works for sunday's use are found; companions for the bible newly bound; that bible, bought by sixpence weekly saved, has choicest prints by famous hands engraved; has choicest notes by many a famous head, such as to doubt have rustic readers led; have made them stop to reason _why_? and _how_? and, where they once agreed, to cavil now. oh! rather give me commentators plain, who with no deep researches vex the brain; who from the dark and doubtful love to run, and hold their glimmering tapers to the sun; who simple truth with nine-fold reason back, and guard the point no enemies attack. bunyan's famed pilgrim rests the shelf upon; a genius rare but rude was honest john: not one who, early by the muse beguiled, drank from her well the waters undefiled; not one who slowly gained the hill sublime, then often sipped and little at a time; but one who dabbled in the sacred springs, and drank them muddy, mixed with baser things. here to interpret dreams we read the rules, science our own! and never taught in schools; in moles and specks we fortune's gifts discern, and fate's fixed will from nature's wanderings learn. of hermit quarle we read, in island rare, far from mankind and seeming far from care; safe from all want, and sound in every limb; yes! there was he, and there was care with him. unbound and heaped, these valued works beside, lay humbler works, the pedlar's pack supplied; yet these, long since, have all acquired a name; the wandering jew has found his way to fame; and fame, denied to many a laboured song, crowns thumb the great and hickerthrift the strong. there too is he, by wizard-power upheld, jack, by whose arm the giant-brood were quelled: his shoes of swiftness on his feet he placed; his coat of darkness on his loins he braced; his sword of sharpness in his hand he took, and off the heads of doughty giants stroke: their glaring eyes beheld no mortal near; no sound of feet alarmed the drowsy ear; no english blood their pagan sense could smell, but heads dropped headlong, wondering why they fell. these are the peasant's joy, when, placed at ease, half his delighted offspring mount his knees. g. crabbe. _the parish register._ the library in the garret books, books, books! i had found the secret of a garret-room piled high with cases in my father's name; piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out among the giant fossils of my past, like some small nimble mouse between the ribs of a mastodon, i nibbled here and there at this or that box, pulling through the gap, in heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, the first book first. and how i felt it beat under my pillow, in the morning's dark, an hour before the sun would let me read! my books! e. b. browning. _aurora leigh._ every library should try to be complete on something, if it were only on the history of pin-heads.--o. w. holmes. _the poet at the breakfast-table._ montaigne's library at home i betake me somewhat the oftener to my library, whence all at once i command and survey all my household. it is seated in the chief entry of my house, thence i behold under me my garden, my base court, my yard, and look even into most rooms of my house. there without order, without method, and by piece-meals i turn over and ransack, now one book and now another. sometimes i muse and rave; and walking up and down i indite and enregister these my humours, these my conceits. it is placed on the third story of a tower. the lowermost is my chapel; the second a chamber with other lodgings, where i often lie, because i would be alone. above it is a great wardrobe. it was in times past the most unprofitable place of all my house. there i pass the greatest part of my life's days, and wear out most hours of the day. i am never there a nights. next unto it is a handsome neat cabinet, able and large enough to receive fire in winter, and very pleasantly windowen. and if i feared not care more than cost (care which drives and diverts me from all business), i might easily join a convenient gallery of a hundred paces long and twelve broad on each side of it, and upon one floor; having already, for some other purpose, found all the walls raised unto a convenient height. each retired place requireth a walk. my thoughts are prone to sleep if i sit long. my mind goes not alone, as if ledges did move it. those that study without books are all in the same case. the form of it is round, and hath no flat side, but what serveth for my table and chair: in which bending or circling manner, at one look it offereth me the full sight of all my books, set round about upon shelves or desks, five ranks one upon another. it hath three bay-windows, of a far-extending, rich and unresisted prospect, and is in diameter sixteen paces void. in winter i am less continually there: for my house (as the name of it importeth) is perched upon an over-peering hillock; and hath no part more subject to all weathers than this: which pleaseth me the more, both because the access unto it is somewhat troublesome and remote, and for the benefit of the exercise which is to be respected; and that i may the better seclude myself from company, and keep encroachers from me: there is my seat, that is my throne. i endeavour to make my rule therein absolute, and to sequester that only corner from the community of wife, of children, and of acquaintance. elsewhere i have but a verbal authority, of confused essence. miserable in my mind is he who in his own home hath nowhere to be to himself; where he may particularly court, and at his pleasure hide or withdraw self.--montaigne. a colloquy in a library i was in my library, making room upon the shelves for some books which had just arrived from new england, removing to a less conspicuous station others which were of less value and in worse dress, when sir thomas entered. you are employed, said he, to your heart's content. why, montesinos, with these books, and the delight you take in their constant society, what have you to covet or desire? _montesinos_ nothing, ... except more books. _sir thomas more_ crescit, indulgens sibi, dirus hydrops. _montesinos_ nay, nay, my ghostly monitor, this at least is no diseased desire! if i covet more, it is for the want i feel and the use which i should make of them. 'libraries,' says my good old friend george dyer, a man as learned as he is benevolent, ... 'libraries are the wardrobes of literature, whence men, properly informed, might bring forth something for ornament, much for curiosity, and more for use.' these books of mine, as you well know, are not drawn up here for display, however much the pride of the eye may be gratified in beholding them; they are on actual service. whenever they may be dispersed, there is not one among them that will ever be more comfortably lodged, or more highly prized by its possessor; and generations may pass away before some of them will again find a reader.... it is well that we do not moralize too much upon such subjects, ... for foresight is a melancholy gift, which bares the bald, and speeds the all-too-swift. but the dispersion of a library, whether in retrospect or in anticipation, is always to me a melancholy thing. _sir thomas more_ how many such dispersions must have taken place to have made it possible that these books should thus be brought together here among the cumberland mountains! _montesinos_ many, indeed; and in many instances most disastrous ones. not a few of these volumes have been cast up from the wreck of the family or convent libraries during the late revolution. yonder acta sanctorum belonged to the capuchines, at ghent. this book of st. bridget's revelations, in which not only all the initial letters are illuminated, but every capital throughout the volume was coloured, came from the carmelite nunnery at bruges. that copy of alain chartier, from the jesuits' college at louvain; that _imago primi saeculi societatis_, from their college at ruremond. here are books from colbert's library; here others from the lamoignon one.... a book is the more valuable to me when i know to whom it has belonged, and through what 'scenes and changes' it has past. _sir thomas more_ you would have its history recorded in the fly-leaf, as carefully as the pedigree of a race-horse is preserved. _montesinos_ i confess that i have much of that feeling in which the superstition concerning relics has originated; and i am sorry when i see the name of a former owner obliterated in a book, or the plate of his arms defaced. poor memorials though they be, yet they are something saved for awhile from oblivion; and i should be almost as unwilling to destroy them, as to efface the _hic jacet_ of a tombstone. there may be sometimes a pleasure in recognizing them, sometimes a salutary sadness.... _sir thomas more_ how peaceably they stand together,--papists and protestants side by side! _montesinos_ their very dust reposes not more quietly in the cemetery. ancient and modern, jew and gentile, mahommedan and crusader, french and english, spaniards and portuguese, dutch and brazilians, fighting their old battles, silently now, upon the same shelf: fernand lopez and pedro de ayala; john de laet and barlaeus, with the historians of joam fernandes vieira; foxe's martyrs and the three conversions of father parsons; cranmer and stephen gardiner; dominican and franciscan; jesuit and _philosophe_ (equally misnamed); churchmen and sectarians; roundheads and cavaliers! here are god's conduits, grave divines; and here is nature's secretary, the philosopher: and wily statesman, which teach how to tie the sinews of a city's mystic body; here gathering chroniclers: and by them stand giddy fantastic poets of each land. here i possess these gathered treasures of time, the harvest of so many generations, laid up in my garners: and when i go to the window, there is the lake, and the circle of the mountains, and the illimitable sky.... never can any man's life have been passed more in accord with his own inclinations, nor more answerably to his own desires. excepting that peace which, through god's infinite mercy, is derived from a higher source, it is to literature, humanly speaking, that i am beholden, not only for the means of subsistence, but for every blessing which i enjoy; ... health of mind and activity of mind, contentment, cheerfulness, continual employments, and therewith continual pleasure. _suavissima vita indies sentire se fieri meliorem_; and this, as bacon has said, and clarendon repeated, is the benefit that a studious man enjoys in retirement. to the studies which i have faithfully pursued, i am indebted for friends with whom, hereafter, it will be deemed an honour to have lived in friendship; and as for the enemies which they have procured to me in sufficient numbers, ... happily i am not of the thin-skinned race, ... they might as well fire small shot at a rhinoceros, as direct their attacks upon me. _in omnibus requiem quaesivi_, said thomas à kempis, _sed non inveni nisi in angulis et libellis_. i too have found repose where he did, in books and retirement, but it was there alone i sought it: to these my nature, under the direction of a merciful providence, led me betimes, and the world can offer nothing which should tempt me from them.--r. southey. _sir thomas more: or, colloquies on the progress and prospects of society. colloquy xiv: 'the library.'_ charles lamb's library his library, though not abounding in greek or latin (which are the only things to help some persons to an idea of literature), is anything but superficial. the depths of philosophy and poetry are there, the innermost passages of the human heart. it has some latin too. it has also a handsome contempt for appearance. it looks like what it is, a selection made at precious intervals from the book-stalls; now a chaucer at nine and twopence; now a montaigne or a sir thomas browne at two shillings; now a jeremy taylor; a spinoza; an old english dramatist, prior, and sir philip sidney; and the books are 'neat as imported'. the very perusal of the backs is a 'discipline of humanity'. there mr. southey takes his place again with an old radical friend: there jeremy collier is at peace with dryden: there the lion, martin luther, lies down with the quaker lamb, sewell: there guzman d'alfarache thinks himself fit company for sir charles grandison, and has his claims admitted. even the 'high fantastical' duchess of newcastle, with her laurel on her head, is received with grave honours, and not the less for declining to trouble herself with the constitutions of her maids.--j. h. leigh hunt. _my books._ stanzas composed in the rev. j. mitford's library o! i methinks could dwell content a spell-bound captive here; and find, in such imprisonment, each fleeting moment dear;-- dear, not to outward sense alone, but thought's most elevated tone. the song of birds, the hum of bees, their sweetest music make; the march winds, through the lofty trees, their wilder strains awake; or from the broad magnolia leaves a gentler gale its spirit heaves. nor less the eye enraptured roves o'er turf of freshest green, o'er bursting flowers, and budding groves, and sky of changeful mien, where sunny glimpses, bright and blue, the fleecy clouds are peeping through. thus soothed, in every passing mood, how sweet each gifted page, rich with the mind's ambrosial food, the muse's brighter age! how sweet, communion here to hold with them, the mighty bards of old. with them--whose master spirits yet in deathless numbers dwell, whose works defy us to forget their still-surviving spell;-- that spell, which lingers in a name, whose every echo whispers fame! could aught enhance such hours of bliss, it were in converse known with him who boasts a scene like this, an eden of his own; whose taste and talent gave it birth, and well can estimate its worth. b. barton. the shrines of the ancient saints the works or acts of merit towards learning are conversant about three objects; the places of learning, the books of learning, and the persons of the learned.... the works touching books are two: first, libraries which are as the shrines where all the relics of the ancient saints, full of true virtue, and that without delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed; secondly, new editions of authors, with more correct impressions, more faithful translations, more profitable glosses, more diligent annotations, and the like.--f. bacon, lord verulam. _of the advancement of learning._ a most horrible infamy never had we been offended for the loss of our libraries, being so many in number, and in so desolate places for the most part, if the chief monuments and most notable works of our excellent writers had been reserved. if there had been in every shire of england but one solempne library, to the preservation of those noble works, and preferment of good learning in our posterity, it had been yet somewhat. but to destroy all without consideration is, and will be, unto england for ever, a most horrible infamy among the grave seniors of other nations. a great number of them which purchased those superstitious mansions, reserved of those library-books, some to serve the jakes, some to scour their candlesticks, and some to rub their boots. some they sold to the grocers and soap-sellers; some they sent over sea to the bookbinders, not in small number, but at times whole ships full, to the wondering of the foreign nations. yea, the universities of this realm are not all clear of this detestable fact. but, cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gains, and shameth his natural country. i know a merchant-man, which shall at this time be nameless, that bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings price; a shame it is to be spoken! this stuff hath he occupied in the stead of gray paper, by the space of more than ten years, and yet he hath store enough for as many years to come!--j. bale. _preface to the laboryouse journey of leland._ libraries for every city i hope it will not be long before royal or national libraries will be founded in every considerable city, with a royal series of books in them; the same series in every one of them, chosen books, the best in every kind, prepared for that national series in the most perfect way possible; their text printed all on leaves of equal size, broad of margin, and divided into pleasant volumes, light in the hand, beautiful, and strong, and thorough as examples of binders' work; and that these great libraries will be accessible to all clean and orderly persons at all times of the day and evening; strict law being enforced for this cleanliness and quietness.--j. ruskin. _sesame and lilies._ the library 'let there be light!' god spake of old, and over chaos dark and cold, and through the dead and formless frame of nature, life and order came. faint was the light at first that shone on giant fern and mastodon, on half-formed plant and beast of prey, and man as rude and wild as they. age after age, like waves, o'erran the earth, uplifting brute and man; and mind, at length, in symbols dark its meanings traced on stone and bark. on leaf of palm, on sedge-wrought roll, on plastic clay and leathern scroll, man wrote his thoughts; the ages passed, and lo! the press was found at last! then dead souls woke; the thoughts of men whose bones were dust revived again; the cloister's silence found a tongue, old prophets spake, old poets sung. and here, to-day, the dead look down, the kings of mind again we crown; we hear the voices lost so long, the sage's word, the sibyl's song. here greek and roman find themselves alive along these crowded shelves; and shakespeare treads again his stage, and chaucer paints anew his age. as if some pantheon's marbles broke their stony trance, and lived and spoke, life thrills along the alcoved hall, the lords of thought await our call! j. g. whittier. the reference library one of the great offices of a reference library is to keep at the service of everybody what everybody cannot keep at home for his own service. it is not convenient to every man to have a very large telescope; i may wish to study the skeleton of a whale but my house is not large enough to hold one; i may be curious in microscopes but i may have no money to buy one of my own. but provide an institution like this and here is the telescope, here is the microscope, and here the skeleton of the whale. here are the great picture, the mighty book, the ponderous atlas, the great histories of the world. they are here always ready for the use of every man without his being put to the cost of purchase or the discomfort of giving them house-room. here are books that we only want to consult occasionally and which are very costly. these are the books proper for a library like this--mighty cyclopaedias, prodigious charts, books that only governments can publish. it is almost the only place where i would avoid cheapness as a plague and run away from mean printing and petty pages with disgust.--george dawson. _address at the opening of the birmingham free reference library_, . in the british museum library the shade deepens as i turn from the portico to the hall and vast domed house of books. the half-hearted light under the dome is stagnant and dead. for it is the nature of light to beat and throb; it has a pulse and undulation like the swing of the sea. under the trees in the woodlands it vibrates and lives; on the hills there is a resonance of light.... it is renewed and fresh every moment, and never twice do you see the same ray. stayed and checked by the dome and book-built walls, the beams lose their elasticity, and the ripple ceases in the motionless pool. the eyes, responding, forget to turn quickly, and only partially see. deeper thought and inspiration quit the heart, for they can only exist where the light vibrates and communicates its tone to the soul. if any imagine they shall find thought in many books, certainly they will be disappointed. thought dwells by the stream and sea, by the hill and in the woodland, in the sunlight and free wind, where the wild dove haunts. walls and roof shut it off as they shut off the undulation of light. the very lightning cannot penetrate here. a murkiness marks the coming of the cloud, and the dome becomes vague, but the fierce flash is shorn to a pale reflection, and the thunder is no more than the rolling of a heavier truck loaded with tomes. but in closing out the sky, with it is cut off all that the sky can tell you with its light, or in its passion of storm. sitting at these long desks and trying to read, i soon find that i have made a mistake; it is not here i shall find that which i seek. yet the magic of books draws me here time after time, to be as often disappointed. something in a book tempts the mind as pictures tempt the eye; the eye grows weary of pictures, but looks again. the mind wearies of books, yet cannot forget that once when they were first opened in youth they gave it hope of knowledge. those first books exhausted, there is nothing left but words and covers. it seems as if all the books in the world--really books--can be bought for £ . man's whole thought is purchaseable at that small price, for the value of a watch, of a good dog. for the rest it is repetition and paraphrase.--r. jefferies. _the life of the fields: the pigeons at the british museum._ the library an heraclea now behold us, ... settled in all the state and grandeur of our own house in russell street, bloomsbury: the library of the museum close at hand. my father spends his mornings in those _lata silentia_, as virgil calls the world beyond the grave. and a world beyond the grave we may well call that land of the ghosts, a book collection. 'pisistratus,' said my father, one evening as he arranged his notes before him, and rubbed his spectacles. 'pisistratus, a great library is an _awful_ place! there, are interred all the remains of men since the flood.' 'it is a burial-place!' quoth my uncle roland, who had that day found us out. 'it is an heraclea!' said my father. 'please, not such hard words,' said the captain, shaking his head. 'heraclea was the city of necromancers, in which they raised the dead. do i want to speak to cicero?--i invoke him. do i want to chat in the athenian market-place, and hear news two thousand years old?--i write down my charm on a slip of paper, and a grave magician calls me up aristophanes.... but it is not _that_ which is awful. it is the presuming to vie with these "spirits elect": to say to them, "make way--i too claim place with the chosen. i too would confer with the living, centuries after the death that consumes my dust."'--e. g. e. l. bulwer-lytton, lord lytton. _the caxtons._ books in a new light i should explain that i cannot write unless i have a sloping desk, and the reading-room of the british museum, where alone i can compose freely, is unprovided with sloping desks. like every other organism, if i cannot get exactly what i want, i make shift with the next thing to it; true, there are no desks in the reading-room, but, as i once heard a visitor from the country say, 'it contains a large number of very interesting works.' i know it was not right, and hope the museum authorities will not be severe upon me if any one of them reads this confession; but i wanted a desk, and set myself to consider which of the many very interesting works which a grateful nation places at the disposal of its would-be authors was best suited for my purpose. for mere reading i suppose one book is pretty much as good as another: but the choice of a desk-book is a more serious matter. it must be neither too thick nor too thin; it must be large enough to make a substantial support; it must be strongly bound so as not to yield or give; it must not be too troublesome to carry backwards and forwards; and it must live on shelf c, d, or e, so that there need be no stooping or reaching too high.... for weeks i made experiments upon sundry poetical and philosophical works, whose names i have forgotten, but could not succeed in finding my ideal desk, until at length, more by luck than cunning, i happened to light upon frost's '_lives of eminent christians_', which i had no sooner tried than i discovered it to be the very perfection and _ne plus ultra_ of everything that a book should be.... on finding myself asked for a contribution to the _universal review_, i went, as i have explained, to the museum, and presently repaired to bookcase no. to get my favourite volume. alas! it was in the room no longer. it was not in use, for its place was filled up already; besides, no one ever used it but myself.... till i have found a substitute i can write no more, and i do not know how to find even a tolerable one. i should try a volume of migne's _complete course of patrology_, but i do not like books in more than one volume, for the volumes vary in thickness, and one never can remember which one took; the four volumes, however, of bede in giles's _anglican fathers_ are not open to this objection, and i have reserved them for favourable consideration. mather's _magnalia_ might do, but the binding does not please me; cureton's _corpus ignatianum_ might also do if it were not too thin. i do not like taking norton's _genuineness of the gospels_, as it is just possible some one may be wanting to know whether the gospels are genuine or not, and be unable to find out because i have got mr. norton's book. baxter's _church history of england_, lingard's _anglo-saxon church_, and cardwell's _documentary annals_, though none of them as good as frost, are works of considerable merit; but on the whole i think arvine's _cyclopaedia of moral and religious anecdote_ is perhaps the one book in the room which comes within measurable distance of frost.... some successor i must find, or i must give up writing altogether, and this i should be sorry to do.--s. butler. _essays on life, art, and science._ on the sight of a great library what a world of wit is here packed up together! i know not, whether this sight doth more dismay, or comfort me: it dismays me, to think that here is so much that i cannot know; it comforts me, to think that this variety yields so good helps, to know what i should. there is no truer word than that of solomon: 'there is no end of making many books.' this sight verifies it. there is no end: it were pity there should. god hath given to man a busy soul; the agitation whereof cannot but, through time and experience, work out many hidden truths: to suppress these, would be no other than injurious to mankind, whose minds like unto so many candles should be kindled by each other. the thoughts of our deliberation are most accurate: these we vent into our papers. what a happiness is it, that, without all offence of necromancy, i may here call up any of the ancient worthies of learning, whether human or divine, and confer with them of all my doubts! that i can, at pleasure, summon whole synods of reverend fathers and acute doctors from all the coasts of the earth, to give their well-studied judgements, in all points of question, which i propose! neither can i cast my eye casually upon any of these silent masters, but i must learn somewhat. it is a wantonness, to complain of choice. no law binds us to read all: but the more we can take in and digest, the better-liking must the mind needs be. blessed be god, that set up so many clear lamps in his church: now, none, but the wilfully blind, can plead darkness. and blessed be the memory of those his faithful servants, that have left their blood, their spirits, their lives, in these precious papers; and have willingly wasted themselves into these during monuments, to give light unto others.--joseph hall. _occasional meditations._ reflections in a library there are more ways to derive instruction from books than the direct and chief one of applying the attention to what they contain. things connected with them, by natural or casual association, will sometimes suggest themselves to a reflective and imaginative reader, and divert him into secondary trains of ideas. in these, the mind may, indeed, float along in perfect indolence and acquire no good; but a serious disposition might regulate them to a profitable result.... even in the most cursory notice of them, when the attention is engaged by no one in particular, ideas may be started of a tendency not wholly foreign to instruction. a reflective person, in his library, in some hour of intermittent application, when the mind is surrendered to vagrant musing, may glance along the ranges of volumes with a slight recognition of the authors, in long miscellaneous array of ancients and moderns. and that musing may become shaped into ideas like these:--what a number of our busy race have deemed themselves capable of informing and directing the rest of mankind! what a vast amount is collected here of the results of the most strenuous and protracted exertions of so many minds! what were in each of these claimants that the world should think as they did, the most prevailing motives? how many of them sincerely loved truth, honestly sought it, and faithfully, to the best of their knowledge, declared it? what might be the circumstances and influences which determined in the case of that one author, and the next, and the next again, their own modes of opinion? and how much have they actually done for truth and righteousness in the world? do not the contents of these accumulated volumes constitute a chaos of all discordant and contradictory principles, theories, representations of facts, and figurings of imaginations? could i not instantly place beside each other the works of two noted authors, who maintain for truth directly opposite doctrines, or systems of doctrine; and then add a third book which explodes them both? i can take some one book in which the prime spirits of the world, through all time, are brought together, announcing the speculations which they, respectively, proclaimed to be the essence of all wisdom, protesting, with solemn censure or sneering contempt, against the dogmas and theories of one another, and conflicting in a huge babel of all imaginable opinions and vagaries.... thus far the instructive reflections which even the mere exterior of an accumulation of books may suggest are supposed to occur in the way of thinking of the _authors_. but the same books may also excite some interesting ideas through their less obvious but not altogether fanciful association with the persons who may have been their _readers_ or _possessors_. the mind of a thoughtful looker over a range of volumes of many dates, and a considerable portion of them old, will sometimes be led into a train of conjectural questions:--who were they that, in various times and places, have had these in their possession? perhaps many hands have turned over the leaves, many eyes have passed along the lines. with what measure of intelligence, and of approval or dissent, did those persons respectively follow the train of thoughts? how many of them were honestly intent on becoming wise by what they read? how many sincere prayers were addressed by them to the eternal wisdom during the perusal? how many have been determined, in their judgement or their actions, by these books? what emotions, temptations, or painful occurrences, may have interrupted the reading of this book, or of that?--j. foster. _introductory essay to doddridge's rise and progress of religion in the soul._ thoughts in a library a great library! what a mass of human misery is here commemorated!--how many buried hopes surround us! the author of that work was the greatest natural philosopher that ever enlightened mankind. his biographers are now disputing whether at one period of his life he was not of unsound mind--but all agree that he was afterwards able to understand his own writings. the author of those numerous volumes was logician, metaphysician, natural historian, philosopher; his sanity was never doubted, and with his last breath he regretted his birth, mourned over his life, expressed his fear of death, and called upon the cause of causes to pity him. his slightest thoughts continued to domineer over the world for ages, until they were in some measure silenced by those works which contain the unfettered meditations of a very great man, who, being more careless than corrupt in the administration of his high office, has gone down to posterity, as 'the wisest, brightest, meanest, of mankind.' for his wisdom has embalmed his meanness. those volumes contain the weighty, if not wise opinions of one who, amidst penury and wretchedness, first learnt to moralize with companions as poor and wretched as himself. even in his latter years, when sought by a monarch, and listened to with submission by all who approached him, his life can scarcely be called a happy one; yet he must have enjoyed some moments of triumph, if not of happiness, in contemplating the severe but well-merited rebuke which he inflicted upon that courtier, who could behold his difficulties with all the indifference that belongs to good breeding, and then thought fit, in the hour of his success, to encumber him with paltry praises. those poems were the burning words of one '... cradled into poetry by wrong, who learnt in suffering what he taught in song.' the slightest foibles of this unhappy man have been brought into odious prominence, for he was the favourite author of his age, and therefore the property of the public. that boyish book absolved its author from a father's cares; and he was one to whom those cares would have been dearest joys, who loved to look upon a poor man's child. listen to the music of his sadness-- 'i see the deep's untrampled floor with green and purple seaweeds strown; i see the waves upon the shore, like light dissolv'd in star-showers, thrown: i sit upon the sands alone, the lightning of the noon-tide ocean is flashing round me, and a tone arises from its measured motion, how sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion!' the sharp arrows of criticism were successfully directed against that next volume, and are said to have been the means of hurrying its author to that world of dreams and shadows, for which, in the critic's opinion, he was so pre-eminently fitted. 'where is the youth, for deeds immortal born, who loved to whisper to the embattled corn, and clustered woodbines, breathing o'er the stream endymion's beauteous passion for a dream?' you already smile, my friend; but to know the heights and the depths, you must turn your attention to those numberless, unread, unheard-of volumes. their authors did not suffer from the severity of the critic or the judge, but were only neglected. if mephistopheles ever requires rest and seclusion--but, hark! is there not a laugh? and that grotesque face in the carved woodwork, how scoffingly it is looking down upon us!--sir a. helps. _thoughts in a cloister._ the true poem on the library let us compare the different ways in which crabbe and foster (certainly a _prose_ poet) deal with a library. crabbe describes minutely and successfully the outer features of the volumes, their colours, clasps, the stubborn ridges of their bindings, the illustrations which adorn them, so well that you feel yourself among them, and they become sensible to touch almost as to sight. but there he stops, and sadly fails, we think, in bringing out the living and moral interest which gathers around a multitude of books, or even around a single volume. this foster has amply done. the speaking silence of a number of books, where, though it were the wide bodleian or vatican, not one whisper could be heard, and yet where, as in an antechamber, so many great spirits are waiting to deliver their messages--their churchyard stillness continuing even when their readers are moving to their pages, in joy or agony, as to the sound of martial instruments--their awaking, as from deep slumber, to speak with miraculous organ, like the shell which has only to be lifted, and 'pleased it remembers its august abodes, and murmurs as the ocean murmurs there'--their power of drawing tears, kindling blushes, awakening laughter, calming or quickening the motions of the life's-blood, lulling to repose, or rousing to restlessness--the meaning which radiates from their quiet countenances--the tale of shame or glory which their title-pages tell--the memories suggested by the character of their authors, and of the readers who have throughout successive centuries perused them--the thrilling thoughts excited by the sight of names and notes inscribed on their margins or blank pages by hands long since mouldered in the dust, or by those dear to us as our life's-blood, who have been snatched from our sides--the aspects of gaiety or of gloom connected with the bindings and the age of volumes--the effects of sunshine playing as if on a congregation of happy faces, making the duskiest shine and the gloomiest be glad--or of shadow suffusing a sombre air over all--the joy of the proprietor of a large library, who feels that nebuchadnezzar watching great babylon, or napoleon reviewing his legions, will not stand comparison with himself seated amid the broad maps, and rich prints, and numerous volumes which his wealth has enabled him to enjoy--all such hieroglyphics of interest and meaning has foster included and interpreted in one gloomy but noble meditation, and his introduction to doddridge is the true 'poem on the library'.--g. gilfillan. _gallery of literary portraits: george crabbe._ the library when the sad soul, by care and grief oppressed, looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest; when every object that appears in view, partakes her gloom and seems dejected too; where shall affliction from itself retire? where fade away and placidly expire? alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain; care blasts the honours of the flowery plain: care veils in clouds the sun's meridian beam, sighs through the grove and murmurs in the stream; for when the soul is labouring in despair, in vain the body breathes a purer air: no storm-tossed sailor sighs for slumbering seas,-- he dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze; on the smooth mirror of the deep resides reflected woe, and o'er unruffled tides the ghost of every former danger glides. thus, in the calms of life, we only see a steadier image of our misery; but lively gales and gently-clouded skies disperse the sad reflections as they rise; and busy thoughts and little cares avail to ease the mind, when rest and reason fail. when the dull thought, by no designs employed, dwells on the past, or suffered or enjoyed, we bleed anew in every former grief, and joys departed furnish no relief. not hope herself, with all her flattering art, can cure this stubborn sickness of the heart: the soul disdains each comfort she prepares, and anxious searches for congenial cares; those lenient cares, which, with our own combined, by mixed sensations ease the afflicted mind, and steal our grief away and leave their own behind; a lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure without regret, nor e'en demand a cure. but what strange art, what magic can dispose the troubled mind to change its native woes? or lead us willing from ourselves, to see others more wretched, more undone than we? this, books can do;--nor this alone; they give new views to life, and teach us how to live; they soothe the grieved, the stubborn they chastise, fools they admonish, and confirm the wise: their aid they yield to all: they never shun the man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone: unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud, they fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd; nor tell to various people various things, but show to subjects, what they show to kings. come, child of care! to make thy soul serene, approach the treasures of this tranquil scene; survey the dome, and, as the doors unfold, the soul's best cure, in all her cares, behold! where mental wealth the poor in thought may find, and mental physic the diseased in mind; see here the balms that passion's wounds assuage; see coolers here, that damp the fire of rage; here alteratives, by slow degrees control the chronic habits of the sickly soul; and round the heart and o'er the aching head, mild opiates here their sober influence shed. now bid thy soul man's busy scenes exclude, and view composed this silent multitude:-- silent they are, but, though deprived of sound, here all the living languages abound; here all that live no more; preserved they lie, in tombs that open to the curious eye. blessed be the gracious power, who taught mankind to stamp a lasting image of the mind!-- beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, their mutual feelings, in the opening spring; but man alone has skill and power to send the heart's warm dictates to the distant friend: 'tis his alone to please, instruct, advise ages remote, and nations yet to rise. in sweet repose, when labour's children sleep, when joy forgets to smile and care to weep, when passion slumbers in the lover's breast, and fear and guilt partake the balm of rest, why then denies the studious man to share man's common good, who feels his common care? because the hope is his, that bids him fly night's soft repose, and sleep's mild power defy; that after-ages may repeat his praise, and fame's fair meed be his, for length of days. delightful prospect! when we leave behind a worthy offspring of the fruitful mind! which, born and nursed through many an anxious day, shall all our labour, all our care repay. yet all are not these births of noble kind, not all the children of a vigorous mind; but where the wisest should alone preside, the weak would rule us, and the blind would guide; nay, man's best efforts taste of man, and show the poor and troubled source from which they flow: where most he triumphs, we his wants perceive, and for his weakness in his wisdom grieve. but though imperfect all; yet wisdom loves this seat serene, and virtue's self approves:-- here come the grieved, a change of thought to find; the curious here, to feed a craving mind; here the devout their peaceful temple choose; and here the poet meets his favouring muse. with awe, around these silent walks i tread; these are the lasting mansions of the dead:-- 'the dead,' methinks a thousand tongues reply; 'these are the tombs of such as cannot die! crowned with eternal fame, they sit sublime, and laugh at all the little strife of time.' hail, then, immortals! ye who shine above, each, in his sphere, the literary jove; and ye the common people of these skies, a humbler crowd of nameless deities; whether 'tis yours to lead the willing mind through history's mazes, and the turnings find; or whether, led by science, ye retire, lost and bewildered in the vast desire; whether the muse invites you to her bowers, and crowns your placid brows with living flowers; or godlike wisdom teaches you to show the noblest road to happiness below; or men and manners prompt the easy page to mark the flying follies of the age: whatever good ye boast, that good impart; inform the head and rectify the heart. lo! all in silence, all in order stand and mighty folios first, a lordly band; then quartos their well-ordered ranks maintain. and light octavos fill a spacious plain: see yonder, ranged in more frequented rows, a humbler band of duodecimos; while undistinguished trifles swell the scene, the last new play and frittered magazine. thus 'tis in life, where first the proud, the great, in leagued assembly keep their cumbrous state; heavy and huge, they fill the world with dread, are much admired, and are but little read: the commons next, a middle rank, are found; professions fruitful pour their offspring round: reasoners and wits are next their place allowed, and last, of vulgar tribes a countless crowd. first, let us view the form, the size, the dress; for these the manners, nay the mind express; that weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid; those ample clasps, of solid metal made; the close-pressed leaves, unclosed for many an age; the dull red edging of the well-filled page; on the broad back the stubborn ridges rolled, where yet the title stands in tarnished gold; these all a sage and laboured work proclaim, a painful candidate for lasting fame: no idle wit, no trifling verse can lurk in the deep bosom of that weighty work; no playful thoughts degrade the solemn style, nor one light sentence claims a transient smile. hence, in these times, untouched the pages lie, and slumber out their immortality: they _had_ their day, when, after all his toil, his morning study, and his midnight oil, at length an author's one great work appeared, by patient hope, and length of days, endeared: expecting nations hailed it from the press; poetic friends prefixed each kind address; princes and kings received the ponderous gift, and ladies read the work they could not lift. fashion, though folly's child, and guide of fools, rules e'en the wisest, and in learning rules; from crowds and courts to wisdom's seat she goes, and reigns triumphant o'er her mother's foes. for lo! these favourites of the ancient mode lie all neglected like the birth-day ode; ah! needless now this weight of massy chain; safe in themselves, the once-loved works remain; no readers now invade their still retreat, none try to steal them from their parent-seat; like ancient beauties, they may now discard chains, bolts, and locks, and lie without a guard. our patient fathers trifling themes laid by, and rolled o'er laboured works the attentive eye; page after page, the much-enduring men explored, the deeps and shallows of the pen; till, every former note and comment known, they marked the spacious margin with their own: minute corrections proved their studious care, the little index, pointing, told us where; and many an emendation showed the age looked far beyond the rubric title-page. our nicer palates lighter labours seek, cloyed with a folio-_number_ once a week; bibles, with cuts and comments, thus go down: e'en light voltaire is _numbered_ through the town: thus physic flies abroad, and thus the law, from men of study, and from men of straw; abstracts, abridgements, please the fickle times, pamphlets and plays, and politics and rhymes: but though to write be now a task of ease, the task is hard by manly arts to please, when all our weakness is exposed to view, and half our judges are our rivals too. amid these works, on which the eager eye delights to fix, or glides reluctant by, when all combined, their decent pomp display, where shall we first our early offering pay?---- to thee, divinity! to thee, the light and guide of mortals, through their mental night; by whom we learn our hopes and fears to guide; to bear with pain, and to contend with pride; when grieved, to pray; when injured, to forgive; and with the world in charity to live. not truths like these inspired that numerous race, whose pious labours fill this ample space; but questions nice, where doubt on doubt arose, awaked to war the long-contending foes. for dubious meanings, learned polemics strove, and wars on faith prevented works of love; the brands of discord far around were hurled, and holy wrath inflamed a sinful world:-- dull though impatient, peevish though devout, with wit disgusting and despised without; saints in design, in execution men, peace in their looks, and vengeance in their pen. methinks i see, and sicken at the sight, spirits of spleen from yonder pile alight; spirits who prompted every damning page, with pontiff pride and still-increasing rage: lo! how they stretch their gloomy wings around, and lash with furious strokes the trembling ground! they pray, they fight, they murder, and they weep,-- wolves in their vengeance, in their manners sheep; too well they act the prophet's fatal part, denouncing evil with a zealous heart; and each, like jonas, is displeased if god repent his anger, or withhold his rod. but here the dormant fury rests unsought, and zeal sleeps soundly by the foes she fought; here all the rage of controversy ends, and rival zealots rest like bosom-friends: an athanasian here, in deep repose, sleeps with the fiercest of his arian foes; socinians here with calvinists abide, and thin partitions angry chiefs divide; here wily jesuits simple quakers meet, and bellarmine has rest at luther's feet. great authors, for the church's glory fired, are, for the church's peace, to rest retired; and close beside, a mystic, maudlin race, lie, 'crums of comfort for the babes of grace.' against her foes religion well defends her sacred truths, but often fears her friends; if learned, their pride, if weak, their zeal she dreads, and their hearts' weakness, who have soundest heads: but most she fears the controversial pen, the holy strife of disputatious men; who the blessed gospel's peaceful page explore, only to fight against its precepts more. near to these seats, behold yon slender frames, all closely filled and marked with modern names; where no fair science ever shows her face, few sparks of genius, and no spark of grace; there sceptics rest, a still-increasing throng, and stretch their widening wings ten thousand strong: some in close fight their dubious claims maintain; some skirmish lightly, fly and fight again; coldly profane, and impiously gay, their end the same, though various in their way. when first religion came to bless the land, her friends were then a firm believing band; to doubt was, then, to plunge in guilt extreme, and all was gospel that a monk could dream; insulted reason fled the grovelling soul, for fear to guide, and visions to control: but now, when reason has assumed her throne, she, in her turn, demands to reign alone; rejecting all that lies beyond her view, and, being judge, will be a witness too: insulted faith then leaves the doubtful mind, to seek for truth, without a power to find: ah! when will both in friendly beams unite, and pour on erring man resistless light? next to the seats, well stored with works divine, an ample space, philosophy! is thine; our reason's guide, by whose assisting light we trace the moral bounds of wrong and right; our guide through nature, from the sterile clay, to the bright orbs of yon celestial way! 'tis thine, the great, the golden chain to trace, which runs through all, connecting race with race; save where those puzzling, stubborn links remain, which thy inferior light pursues in vain:-- how vice and virtue in the soul contend; how widely differ, yet how nearly blend! what various passions war on either part, and now confirm, now melt the yielding heart: how fancy loves around the world to stray, while judgement slowly picks his sober way; the stores of memory, and the flights sublime of genius, bound by neither space nor time;-- all these divine philosophy explores, till, lost in awe, she wonders and adores. from these, descending to the earth, she turns, and matter, in its various form, discerns; she parts the beamy light with skill profound, metes the thin air, and weighs the flying sound; 'tis hers, the lightning from the clouds to call, and teach the fiery mischief where to fall. yet more her volumes teach,--on these we look as abstracts drawn from nature's larger book: here, first described, the torpid earth appears, and next, the vegetable robe it wears; where flowery tribes, in valleys, fields and groves, nurse the still flame, and feed the silent loves; loves, where no grief, nor joy, nor bliss, nor pain, warm the glad heart or vex the labouring brain; but as the green blood moves along the blade, the bed of flora on the branch is made; where, without passion, love instinctive lives, and gives new life, unconscious that it gives. advancing still in nature's maze, we trace, in dens and burning plains, her savage race; with those tame tribes who on their lord attend, and find, in man, a master and a friend: man crowns the scene, a world of wonders new, a moral world, that well demands our view. this world is here; for, of more lofty kind, these neighbouring volumes reason on the mind; they paint the state of man ere yet endued with knowledge;--man, poor, ignorant, and rude; then, as his state improves, their pages swell, and all its cares, and all its comforts, tell: here we behold how inexperience buys, at little price, the wisdom of the wise; without the troubles of an active state, without the cares and dangers of the great, without the miseries of the poor, we know what wisdom, wealth, and poverty bestow; we see how reason calms the raging mind, and how contending passions urge mankind: some, won by virtue, glow with sacred fire; some, lured by vice, indulge the low desire; whilst others, won by either, now pursue the guilty chase, now keep the good in view; for ever wretched, with themselves at strife, they lead a puzzled, vexed, uncertain life; for transient vice bequeaths a lingering pain which transient virtue seeks to cure in vain. whilst thus engaged, high views enlarge the soul, new interests draw, new principles control: nor thus the soul alone resigns her grief, but here the tortured body finds relief; for see where yonder sage arachnè shapes her subtile gin, that not a fly escapes! there physic fills the space, and far around, pile above pile, her learned works abound: glorious their aim--to ease the labouring heart; to war with death, and stop his flying dart; to trace the source whence the fierce contest grew, and life's short lease on easier terms renew; to calm the frenzy of the burning brain; to heal the tortures of imploring pain; or, when more powerful ills all efforts brave, to ease the victim no device can save, and smooth the stormy passage to the grave. but man, who knows no good unmixed and pure, oft finds a poison where he sought a cure; for grave deceivers lodge their labours here, and cloud the science they pretend to clear: scourges for sin, the solemn tribe are sent; like fire and storms, they call us to repent; but storms subside, and fires forget to rage, _these_ are eternal scourges of the age: 'tis not enough that each terrific hand spreads desolation round a guilty land; but, trained to ill, and hardened by its crimes, their pen relentless kills through future times. say ye, who search these records of the dead, who read huge works, to boast what ye have read; can all the real knowledge ye possess, or those (if such there are) who more than guess, atone for each impostor's wild mistakes, and mend the blunders pride or folly makes? what thought so wild, what airy dream so light, that will not prompt a theorist to write? what art so prevalent, what proof so strong, that will convince him his attempt is wrong? one in the solids finds each lurking ill, nor grants the passive fluids power to kill; a learned friend some subtler reason brings, absolves the channels, but condemns their springs; the subtile nerves, that shun the doctor's eye, escape no more his subtler theory; the vital heat, that warms the labouring heart, lends a fair system to these sons of art; the vital air, a pure and subtile stream, serves a foundation for an airy scheme, assists the doctor, and supports his dream. some have their favourite ills, and each disease is but a younger branch that kills from these: one to the gout contracts all human pain, he views it raging in the frantic brain; finds it in fevers all his efforts mar, and sees it lurking in the cold catarrh: bilious by some, by others nervous seen, rage the fantastic demons of the spleen; and every symptom of the strange disease with every system of the sage agrees. ye frigid tribe, on whom i wasted long the tedious hours, and ne'er indulged in song; ye first seducers of my easy heart, who promised knowledge ye could not impart; ye dull deluders, truth's destructive foes; ye sons of fiction, clad in stupid prose; ye treacherous leaders, who, yourselves in doubt, light up false fires, and send us far about;-- still may yon spider round your pages spin, subtile and slow, her emblematic gin! buried in dust and lost in silence, dwell, most potent, grave, and reverend friends--farewell! near these, and where the setting sun displays, through the dim window, his departing rays, and gilds yon columns, there, on either side, the huge abridgements of the law abide; fruitful as vice the dread correctors stand, and spread their guardian terrors round the land; yet, as the best that human care can do, is mixed with error, oft with evil too, skilled in deceit, and practised to evade, knaves stand secure, for whom these laws were made; and justice vainly each expedient tries, while art eludes it, or while power defies. 'ah! happy age,' the youthful poet sings, 'when the free nations knew not laws nor kings; when all were blessed to share a common store, and none were proud of wealth, for none were poor; no wars nor tumults vexed each still domain, no thirst for empire, no desire of gain; no proud great man, nor one who would be great, drove modest merit from its proper state; nor into distant climes would avarice roam, to fetch delights for luxury at home: bound by no ties which kept the soul in awe, they dwelt at liberty, and love was law!' 'mistaken youth! each nation first was rude, each man a cheerless son of solitude, to whom no joys of social life were known, none felt a care that was not all his own; or in some languid clime his abject soul bowed to a little tyrant's stern control; a slave, with slaves his monarch's throne he raised, and in rude song his ruder idol praised; the meaner cares of life were all he knew; bounded his pleasures, and his wishes few: but when by slow degrees the arts arose, and science wakened from her long repose; when commerce, rising from the bed of ease, ran round the land, and pointed to the seas; when emulation, born with jealous eye, and avarice, lent their spurs to industry; then one by one the numerous laws were made those to control, and these to succour trade; to curb the insolence of rude command, to snatch the victim from the usurer's hand; to awe the bold, to yield the wronged redress, and feed the poor with luxury's excess.' like some vast flood, unbounded, fierce, and strong, his nature leads ungoverned man along; like mighty bulwarks made to stem that tide, the laws are formed and placed on every side: whene'er it breaks the bounds by these decreed, new statutes rise, and stronger laws succeed; more and more gentle grows the dying stream, more and more strong the rising bulwarks seem; till, like a miner working sure and slow, luxury creeps on, and ruins all below; the basis sinks, the ample piles decay; the stately fabric shakes and falls away; primeval want and ignorance come on, but freedom, that exalts the savage state, is gone. next, history ranks;--there full in front she lies, and every nation her dread tale supplies; yet history has her doubts, and every age with sceptic queries marks the passing page; records of old nor later date are clear, too distant those, and these are placed too near; there time conceals the objects from our view, here our own passions and a writer's too: yet, in these volumes, see how states arose! guarded by virtue from surrounding foes; their virtue lost, and of their triumphs vain, lo! how they sunk to slavery again! satiate with power, of fame and wealth possessed, a nation grows too glorious to be blessed; conspicuous made, she stands the mark of all, and foes join foes to triumph in her fall. thus speaks the page that paints ambition's race, the monarch's pride, his glory, his disgrace; the headlong course, that maddening heroes run, how soon triumphant, and how soon undone; how slaves, turned tyrants, offer crowns to sale, and each fallen nation's melancholy tale. lo! where of late the book of martyrs stood, old pious tracts, and bibles bound in wood; there, such the taste of our degenerate age, stand the profane delusions of the stage: yet virtue owns the tragic muse a friend, fable her means, morality her end; for this she rules all passions in their turns; and now the bosom bleeds, and now it burns, pity with weeping eye surveys her bowl, her anger swells, her terror chills the soul; she makes the vile to virtue yield applause, and own her sceptre while they break her laws; for vice in others is abhorred of all, and villains triumph when the worthless fall. not thus her sister comedy prevails, who shoots at folly, for her arrow fails; folly, by dulness armed, eludes the wound, and harmless sees the feathered shafts rebound; unhurt she stands, applauds the archer's skill, laughs at her malice, and is folly still. yet well the muse portrays in fancied scenes, what pride will stoop to, what profession means; how formal fools the farce of state applaud, how caution watches at the lips of fraud; the wordy variance of domestic life; the tyrant husband, the retorting wife; the snares for innocence, the lie of trade, and the smooth tongue's habitual masquerade. with her the virtues too obtain a place, each gentle passion, each becoming grace; the social joy in life's securer road, its easy pleasure, its substantial good; the happy thought that conscious virtue gives, and all that ought to live, and all that lives. but who are these? methinks a noble mien and awful grandeur in their form are seen, now in disgrace: what though by time is spread polluting dust o'er every reverend head; what though beneath yon gilded tribe they lie, and dull observers pass insulting by: forbid it shame, forbid it decent awe, what seems so grave, should no attention draw! come, let us then with reverend step advance, and greet--the ancient worthies of romance. hence, ye profane! i feel a former dread, a thousand visions float around my head: hark! hollow blasts through empty courts resound, and shadowy forms with staring eyes stalk round; see! moats and bridges, walls and castles rise, ghosts, fairies, demons, dance before our eyes; lo! magic verse inscribed on golden gate, and bloody hand that beckons on to fate:-- 'and who art thou, thou little page, unfold? say, doth thy lord my claribel withhold? go tell him straight, sir knight, thou must resign the captive queen;--for claribel is mine.' away he flies; and now for bloody deeds, black suits of armour, masks, and foaming steeds; the giant falls; his recreant throat i seize, and from his corslet take the massy keys:-- dukes, lords, and knights in long procession move, released from bondage with my virgin love:-- she comes! she comes! in all the charms of youth, unequalled love and unsuspected truth! ah! happy he who thus, in magic themes, o'er worlds bewitched, in early rapture dreams, where wild enchantment waves her potent wand, and fancy's beauties fill her fairy land; where doubtful objects strange desires excite, and fear and ignorance afford delight. but lost, for ever lost, to me these joys, which reason scatters, and which time destroys; too dearly bought: maturer judgement calls my busied mind from tales and madrigals; my doughty giants all are slain or fled, and all my knights, blue, green, and yellow, dead! no more the midnight fairy tribe i view, all in the merry moonshine tippling dew; e'en the last lingering fiction of the brain, the church-yard ghost, is now at rest again; and all these wayward wanderings of my youth fly reason's power and shun the light of truth. with fiction then does real joy reside, and is our reason the delusive guide? is it then right to dream the syrens sing? or mount enraptured on the dragon's wing? no, 'tis the infant mind, to care unknown, that makes the imagined paradise its own; soon as reflections in the bosom rise, light slumbers vanish from the clouded eyes: the tear and smile, that once together rose, are then divorced; the head and heart are foes. enchantment bows to wisdom's serious plan, and pain and prudence make and mar the man. while thus, of power and fancied empire vain, with various thoughts my mind i entertain; while books my slaves, with tyrant hand i seize, pleased with the pride that will not let them please; sudden i find terrific thoughts arise, and sympathetic sorrow fills my eyes; for, lo! while yet my heart admits the wound, i see the critic army ranged around. foes to our race! if ever ye have known a father's fears for offspring of your own;-- if ever, smiling o'er a lucky line, ye thought the sudden sentiment divine, then paused and doubted, and then, tired of doubt, with rage as sudden dashed the stanza out;-- if, after fearing much and pausing long, ye ventured on the world your laboured song, and from the crusty critics of those days implored the feeble tribute of their praise; remember now the fears that moved you then, and, spite of truth, let mercy guide your pen. what venturous race are ours! what mighty foes lie waiting all around them to oppose! what treacherous friends betray them to the fight! what dangers threaten them!--yet still they write: a hapless tribe! to every evil born, whom villains hate, and fools affect to scorn: strangers they come, amid a world of woe, and taste the largest portion ere they go. pensive i spoke, and cast mine eyes around; the roof, methought, returned a solemn sound; each column seemed to shake, and clouds like smoke, from dusty piles and ancient volumes broke; gathering above, like mists condensed they seem, exhaled in summer from the rushy stream; like flowing robes they now appear, and twine round the large members of a form divine; his silver beard, that swept his aged breast, his piercing eye, that inward light expressed, were seen,--but clouds and darkness veiled the rest. fear chilled my heart: to one of mortal race, how awful seemed the genius of the place! so in cimmerian shores, ulysses saw his parent-shade, and shrunk in pious awe; like him i stood, and wrapt in thought profound, when from the pitying power broke forth a solemn sound:-- 'care lives with all; no rules, no precepts save the wise from woe, no fortitude the brave; grief is to man as certain as the grave: tempests and storms in life's whole progress rise, and hope shines dimly through o'erclouded skies; some drops of comfort on the favoured fall, but showers of sorrow are the lot of _all_: partial to talents, then, shall heaven withdraw the afflicting rod, or break the general law? shall he who soars, inspired by loftier views, life's little cares and little pains refuse? shall he not rather feel a double share of mortal woe, when doubly armed to bear? 'hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind on the precarious mercy of mankind; who hopes for wild and visionary things, and mounts o'er unknown seas with venturous wings: but as, of various evils that befall the human race, some portion goes to all; to him perhaps the milder lot's assigned, who feels his consolation in his mind; and, locked within his bosom, bears about a mental charm for every care without. e'en in the pangs of each domestic grief, or health or vigorous hope affords relief; and every wound the tortured bosom feels, or virtue bears, or some preserver heals; some generous friend, of ample power possessed; some feeling heart, that bleeds for the distressed; some breast that glows with virtues all divine; some noble rutland, misery's friend and thine. 'nor say, the muse's song, the poet's pen, merit the scorn they meet from little men. with cautious freedom if the numbers flow, not wildly high, nor pitifully low; if vice alone their honest aims oppose, why so ashamed their friends, so loud their foes? happy for men in every age and clime, if all the sons of vision dealt in rhyme. go on then, son of vision! still pursue thy airy dreams; the world is dreaming too. ambition's lofty views, the pomp of state, the pride of wealth, the splendour of the great, stripped of their mask, their cares and troubles known, are visions far less happy than thy own: go on! and, while the sons of care complain, be wisely gay and innocently vain; while serious souls are by their fears undone, blow sportive bladders in the beamy sun, and call them worlds! and bid the greatest show more radiant colours in their worlds below: then, as they break, the slaves of care reprove, and tell them, such are all the toys they love.' g. crabbe. the library here, e'en the sturdy democrat may find, nor scorn their rank, the nobles of the mind; while kings may learn, nor blush at being shown how learning's patents abrogate their own. a goodly company and fair to see; royal plebeians; earls of low degree; beggars whose wealth enriches every clime; princes who scarce can boast a mental dime; crowd here together like the quaint array of jostling neighbours on a market day. homer and milton,--can we call them blind?-- of godlike sight, the vision of the mind; shakespeare, who calmly looked creation through, 'exhausted worlds, and then imagined new'; plato the sage, so thoughtful and serene, he seems a prophet by his heavenly mien; shrewd socrates, whose philosophic power xantippe proved in many a trying hour; and aristophanes, whose humour run in vain endeavour to be-'cloud' the sun; majestic aeschylus, whose glowing page holds half the grandeur of the athenian stage; pindar, whose odes, replete with heavenly fire, proclaim the master of the grecian lyre; anacreon, famed for many a luscious line, devote to venus and the god of wine. i love vast libraries; yet there is a doubt if one be better with them or without-- unless he use them wisely, and, indeed, knows the high art of what and how to read. at learning's fountain it is sweet to drink, but 'tis a nobler privilege to think; and oft, from books apart, the thirsting mind may make the nectar which it cannot find. 'tis well to borrow from the good and great; 'tis wise to learn; 'tis godlike to create! j. g. saxe. of libraries: the bodleian what oweth oxford, nay this isle, to the most worthy bodley, whose library, perhaps, containeth more excellent books than the ancients by all their curious search could find?... to such a worthy work all the lovers of learning should conspire and contribute; and of small beginnings who is ignorant what great effects may follow? if, perhaps, we will consider the beginnings of the greatest libraries of europe (as democritus said of the world, that it was made up of atoms), we shall find them but small; for how great soever in their present perfection they are now, these carthages were once magalia. libraries are as forests, in which not only tall cedars and oaks are to be found, but bushes too and dwarfish shrubs; and as in apothecaries' shops all sorts of drugs are permitted to be, so may all sorts of books be in a library. and as they out of vipers and scorpions, and poisoning vegetables, extract often wholesome medicaments, for the life of mankind; so out of whatsoever book, good instructions and examples may be acquired.--william drummond. _of libraries._ on the death of sir thomas bodley one homer was enough to blazon forth in a full lofty style ulysses' praise, caesar had lucan to enrol his worth unto the memory of endless days. of thy deeds, bodley, from thine own pure spring a thousand homers and sweet lucans sing. one volume was a monument to bound the large extent of their deserving pains, in learning's commonwealth was never found so large a decade to express thy strains, which who desires to character aright, must read more books than they had lines to write. yet give this little river leave to run, into the boundless ocean of thy fame; had they first ended i had not begun, sith each is a protogenes to frame so curiously the picture of thy worth that when all's done, art wants to set it forth. peter prideaux (exeter college, ). to be chained with good authors king james, , when he came to see our university of oxford, and amongst other edifices now went to view that famous library, renewed by sir thomas bodley in imitation of alexander at his departure, brake out into that noble speech, 'if i were not a king, i would be a university man: and if it were so that i must be a prisoner, if i might have my wish, i would desire to have no other prison than that library, and to be chained together with so many good authors, _et mortuis magistris_.' so sweet is the delight of study, the more learning they have (as he that hath a dropsy, the more he drinks the thirstier he is) the more they covet to learn, and the last day is _prioris discipulus_; harsh at first learning is, _radices amarae_, but _fructus dulces_, according to that of isocrates, pleasant at last; the longer they live, the more they are enamoured with the muses. heinsius, the keeper of the library at leyden, in holland, was mewed up in it all the year long; and that which to thy thinking should have bred a loathing, caused in him a greater liking. 'i no sooner (saith he) come into the library, but i bolt the door to me, excluding lust, ambition, avarice, and all such vices, whose nurse is idleness, the mother of ignorance, and melancholy herself, and in the very lap of eternity, amongst so many divine souls, i take my seat with so lofty a spirit and sweet content, that i pity all our great ones, and rich men that know not this happiness.' i am not ignorant in the meantime (notwithstanding this which i have said) how barbarously and basely, for the most part, our ruder gentry esteem of libraries and books, how they neglect and contemn so great a treasure, so inestimable a benefit, as aesop's cock did the jewel he found in the dunghill; and all through error, ignorance, and want of education.--r. burton. _the anatomy of melancholy._ an ode addressed to mr. john rouse librarian, of the university of oxford on a lost volume of my poems, which he desired me to replace, that he might add them to my other works deposited in the library. _strophe._ my two-fold book! single in show, but double in contents, neat, but not curiously adorned, which, in his early youth, a poet gave, no lofty one in truth, although an earnest wooer of the muse-- say while in cool ausonian shades or british wilds he roamed, striking by turns his native lyre, by turns the daunian lute, and stepped almost in air,-- _antistrophe._ say, little book, what furtive hand thee from thy fellow-books conveyed, what time, at the repeated suit of my most learnèd friend, i sent thee forth, an honoured traveller, from our great city to the source of thames, caerulian sire! where rise the fountains, and the raptures ring, of the aonian choir, durable as yonder spheres, and through the endless lapse of years secure to be admired? _strophe ii._ now what god, or demigod for britain's ancient genius moved, (if our afflicted land have expiated at length the guilty sloth of her degenerate sons) shall terminate our impious feuds, and discipline, with hallowed voice, recall? recall the muses too, driven from their ancient seats in albion, and well nigh from albion's shore, and with keen phoebean shafts, piercing the unseemly birds, whose talons menace us, shall drive the harpy race from helicon afar? _antistrophe._ but thou, my book, though thou hast strayed, whether by treachery lost or indolent neglect, thy bearer's fault, from all thy kindred books, to some dark cell or cave forlorn, where thou endurest, perhaps the chafing of some hard untutored hand, be comforted-- for lo! again the splendid hope appears that thou mayest yet escape, the gulfs of lethe, and on oary wings mount to the everlasting courts of jove! _strophe iii._ since rouse desires thee, and complains that, though by promise his, thou yet appear'st not in thy place among the literary noble stores, given to his care, but, absent, leavest his numbers incomplete: he, therefore, guardian vigilant of that unperishing wealth, calls thee to the interior shrine, his charge, where he intends a richer treasure far than iön kept (iön, erectheus' son illustrious, of the fair creüsa born) in the resplendent temple of his god, tripods of gold, and delphic gifts divine. _antistrophe._ haste, then, to the pleasant groves, the muses' favourite haunt; resume thy station in apollo's dome, dearer to him than delos, or the forked parnassian hill! exulting go, since now a splendid lot is also thine, and thou art sought by my propitious friend; for there thou shalt be read with authors of exalted note, the ancient glorious lights of greece and rome. _epode._ ye, then, my works, no longer vain, and worthless deemed by me! whate'er this sterile genius has produced expect, at last, the rage of envy spent, an unmolested happy home, gift of kind hermes, and my watchful friend, where never flippant tongue profane shall entrance find, and whence the coarse unlettered multitude shall babble far remote. perhaps some future distant age, less tinged with prejudice, and better taught, shall furnish minds of power to judge more equally. then, malice silenced in the tomb, cooler heads and sounder hearts, thanks to rouse, if aught of praise i merit, shall with candour weigh the claim. w. cowper. _translated from milton._ pindaric ode hail! learning's pantheon! hail, the sacred ark, where all the world of science does embark! which ever shall withstand, and hast so long withstood, insatiate time's devouring flood! hail, tree of knowledge! thy leaves fruit! which well dost in the midst of paradise arise, oxford, the muses' paradise! from which may never sword the blest expel. hail, bank of all past ages, where they lie to enrich with interest posterity! hail, wit's illustrious galaxy, where thousand lights into one brightness spread, hail, living university of the dead! unconfused babel of all tongues, which e'er the mighty linguist, fame, or time, the mighty traveller, that could speak or this could hear! majestic monument and pyramid, where still the shapes of parted souls abide embalmed in verse! exalted souls, which now, enjoy those arts they wooed so well below! which now all wonders printed plainly see that have been, are, or are to be, in the mysterious library, the beatific bodley of the dead! will ye into your sacred throng admit the meanest british wit? ye general council of the priests of fame, will ye not murmur and disdain that i a place amongst ye claim the humblest deacon of her train? will ye allow me the honourable chain? the chain of ornament, which here your noble prisoners proudly wear? a chain which will more pleasant seem to me than all my own pindaric liberty. will ye to bind me with these mighty names submit like an apocrypha with holy writ? whatever happy book is chainèd here, no other place or people needs to fear; his chain's a passport to go everywhere. as when a seat in heaven is to an unmalicious sinner given, who casting round his wondering eye does none but patriarchs and apostles there espy, martyrs who did their lives bestow and saints who martyrs lived below, with trembling and amazement he begins to recollect his frailties past and sins, he doubts almost his station there, his soul says to itself, 'how came i here?' it fares no otherwise with me when i myself with conscious wonder see amidst this purified elected company; with hardship they and pain did to their happiness attain. no labours i or merits can pretend; i think, predestination only was my friend. ah! if my author had been tied like me, to such a place and such a company, instead of several countries, several men, and business, which the muses hate! he might have then improved that small estate which nature sparingly did to him give, he might perhaps have thriven then, and settled upon me, his child, somewhat to live; it had happier been for him, as well as me. for when all, alas, is done, we books, i mean you books, will prove to be the best and noblest conversation. for though some errors will get in, like tinctures of original sin, yet sure we from our father's wit draw all the strength and spirits of it, leaving the grosser parts for conversation, as the best blood of man's employed on generation. a. cowley. on sir thomas bodley's library, the author being then in oxford boast not, proud golgotha, that thou canst show the ruins of mankind and let us know how frail a thing is flesh! though we see there but empty skulls, the rabbins still live here. they are not dead, but full of blood again, i mean the sense, and every line a vein. triumph not o'er their dust; whoever looks in here, shall find their brains all in their books. nor is't old palestine alone survives, athens lives here, more than in plutarch's lives. the stones which sometimes danced unto the strain of orpheus, here do lodge his muse again. and you the roman spirits, learning has made your lives longer than your empire was. caesar had perished from the world of men, had not his sword been rescued by his pen. rare seneca! how lasting is thy breath! though nero did, thou could'st not bleed to death. how dull the expert tyrant was, to look for that in thee, which livèd in thy book! afflictions turn our blood to ink, and we commence, when writing, our eternity. lucilius here i can behold, and see his counsels and his life proceed from thee. but what care i to whom thy letters be? i change the name, and thou dost write to me; and in this age, as sad almost as thine, thy stately consolations are mine. poor earth! what though thy viler dust enrolls the frail enclosures of these mighty souls? their graves are all upon record; not one but is as bright and open as the sun, and though some part of them obscurely fell and perished in an unknown, private cell, yet in their books they found a glorious way to live unto the resurrection-day! most noble bodley! we are bound to thee for no small part of our eternity. thy treasure was not spent on horse and hound, nor that new mode, which doth old states confound. thy legacies another way did go, nor were they left to those would spend them so. thy safe, discreet expense on us did flow; walsam is in the midst of oxford now. thou hast made us all thine heirs; whatever we hereafter write, 'tis thy posterity. this is thy monument! here thou shalt stand till the times fail in their last grain of sand. and wheresoe'er thy silent relics keep, this tomb will never let thine honour sleep. still we shall think upon thee; all our fame meets here to speak one letter of thy name. thou canst not die! here thou art more than safe, where every book is thy large epitaph. h. vaughan. the bodleians of oxford above all thy rarities, old oxenford, what do most arride and solace me, are thy repositories of mouldering learning, thy shelves-- what a place to be in is an old library! it seems as though all the souls of all the writers, that have bequeathed their labours to these bodleians, were reposing here, as in some dormitory, or middle state. i do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. i could as soon dislodge a shade. i seem to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage; and the odour of their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the first bloom of those sciential apples which grew amid the happy orchard.--c. lamb. _oxford in the vacation._ the bodleian: a dead sea of books few places affected me more than the libraries, and especially the bodleian library, reputed to have half a million printed books and manuscripts. i walked solemnly and reverently among the alcoves and through the halls, as if in the pyramid of embalmed souls. it was their life, their heart, their mind, that they treasured in these book-urns. silent as they are, should all the emotions that went to their creation have utterance, could the world itself contain the various sound? they longed for fame? here it is--to stand silently for ages, moved only to be dusted and catalogued, valued only as units in the ambitious total, and gazed at, occasionally, by men as ignorant as i am, of their name, their place, their language, and their worth. indeed, unless a man can link his written thoughts with the everlasting wants of men, so that they shall draw from them as from wells, there is no more immortality to the thoughts and feelings of the soul than to the muscles and the bones. a library is but the soul's burial-ground. it is the land of shadows. yet one is impressed with the thought, the labour, and the struggle, represented in this vast catacomb of books. who could dream, by the placid waters that issue from the level mouths of brooks into the lake, all the plunges, the whirls, the divisions, and foaming rushes that had brought them down to the tranquil exit? and who can guess through what channels of disturbance, and experiences of sorrow, the heart passed that has emptied into this dead sea of books?--henry ward beecher. _star papers._ a college library a churchyard with a cloister running round and quaint old effigies in act of prayer, and painted banners mouldering strangely there where mitred prelates and grave doctors sleep, memorials of a consecrated ground! such is this antique room, a haunted place where dead men's spirits come, and angels keep long hours of watch with wings in silence furled. early and late have i kept vigil here; and i have seen the moonlight shadows trace dim glories on the missal's blue and gold, the work of my scholastic sires, that told of quiet ages men call dark and drear, for faith's soft light is darkness to the world. f. w. faber. merton library quaint gloomy chamber, oldest relic left of monkish quiet, like a ship thy form, stranded keel upward by some sudden storm; now that a safe and polished age hath cleft locks, bars and chains, that saved thy tomes from theft, may time, a surer robber, spare thine age, and reverence each huge black-lettered page, of real boards and gilt-stamped leather reft. long may ambitious students here unseal the secret mysteries of classic lore; though urged not by that blind and aimless zeal with which the scot within these walls of yore transcribed the bible without breaking fast, toiled through each word and perished at the last. j. b. norton. oxford nights about the august and ancient _square_, cries the wild wind; and through the air, the blue night air, blows keen and chill: else, all the night sleeps, all is still. now, the lone _square_ is blind with gloom: now, on that clustering chestnut bloom, a cloudy moonlight plays, and falls in glory upon _bodley's_ walls: now, wildlier yet, while moonlight pales, storm the tumultuary gales. o rare divinity of night! season of undisturbed delight: glad interspace of day and day! without, a world of winds at play: within, i hear what dead friends say. blow, winds! and round that perfect _dome_, wail as you will, and sweep, and roam: above _saint mary's_ carven home, struggle, and smite to your desire the sainted watchers on her spire: or in the distance vex your power upon mine own _new college_ tower: you hurt not these! on me and mine, clear candlelights in quiet shine: my fire lives yet! nor have i done with _smollett_, nor with _richardson_: with, gentlest of the martyrs! _lamb_, whose lover i, long lover, am: with _gray_, whose gracious spirit knew the sorrows of art's lonely few: with _fielding_, great, and strong, and tall; _sterne_, exquisite, equivocal; _goldsmith_, the dearest of them all: while _addison's_ demure delights turn _oxford_, into _attic_, nights. still _trim_ and _parson adams_ keep me better company, than sleep: dark sleep, who loves not me; nor i love well her nightly death to die, and in her haunted chapels lie. sleep wins me not: but from his shelf brings me each wit his very self: beside my chair the great ghosts throng, each tells his story, sings his song: and in the ruddy fire i trace the curves of each _augustan_ face. i sit at _doctor primrose'_ board: i hear _beau tibbs_ discuss a lord. mine, _matthew bramble's_ pleasant wrath; mine, all the humours of the _bath_. _sir roger_ and the _man in black_ bring me the _golden ages_ back. now white _clarissa_ meets her fate, with virgin will inviolate: now _lovelace_ wins me with a smile, _lovelace_, adorable and vile. i taste, in slow alternate way, letters of _lamb_, letters of _gray_: nor lives there, beneath oxford towers, more joy, than in my silent hours. dream, who love dreams! forget all grief: find, in sleep's nothingness, relief: better my dreams! dear, human books, with kindly voices, winning looks! enchaunt me with your spells of art, and draw me homeward to your heart: till weariness and things unkind seem but a vain and passing wind: till the grey morning slowly creep upward, and rouse the birds from sleep: till _oxford_ bells the silence break, and find me happier, for your sake. then, with the dawn of common day, rest you! but i, upon my way, what the fates bring, will cheerlier do, in days not yours, through thoughts of you! l. johnson. on the library at cambridge in that great maze of books i sighed, and said,-- 'it is a grave-yard, and each tome a tomb; shrouded in hempen rags, behold the dead, coffined and ranged in crypts of dismal gloom,-- food for the worm and redolent of mould, traced with brief epitaph in tarnished gold.'-- ah, golden-lettered hope!--ah, dolorous doom! yet, mid the common death, when all is cold, and mildewed pride in desolation dwells, a few great immortalities of old stand brightly forth;--not tombs but living shrines, where from high saint or martyr virtue wells, which on the living yet works miracles, spreading a relic wealth, richer than golden mines. j. m. the soul's viaticum books looked on as to their readers or authors do at the very first mention challenge pre-eminence above the world's admired fine things. books are the glass of council to dress ourselves by. they are life's best business: vocation to these hath more emolument coming in than all the other busy terms of life. they are fee-less councillors, no delaying patrons, of easy access, and kind expedition, never sending away empty any client or petitioner. they are for company the best friends; in doubts, counsellors; in damp, comforters; time's perspective; the home traveller's ship, or horse, the busy man's best recreation; the opiate of idle weariness; the mind's best ordinary; nature's garden and seed-plot of immortality. time spent, needlessly, from them is consumed, but with them twice gained. time captivated and snatched from thee by incursions of business, thefts of visitants, or by thy own carelessness lost, is by these redeemed in life; they are the soul's viaticum; and against death its cordial. in a true verdict, no such treasure as a library.--b. whitelocke. notes page . _lamb._--the extracts from the works of charles lamb are from the oxford edition, edited by t. hutchinson. not content with 'grace' before milton and shakespeare, lamb suggests elsewhere (see p. ) a solemn service. p. . _petrarch._--when the love-sick petrarch retired from avignon to vaucluse, in , his only companions were his books; for his friends rarely visited him, alleging that his mode of life was unnatural. petrarch replied as in the text, which is quoted from mrs. s. dodson's _life_. on another occasion, however, petrarch wrote: 'many have found the multitude of their books a hindrance to learning, and abundance has bred want, as sometimes happens. but if the many books are at hand, they are not to be cast aside, but to be gleaned, and the best used; and care should be taken that those which might have proved seasonable auxiliaries do not become hindrances out of season.' see leigh hunt's reference on page to petrarch as 'the god of the bibliomaniacs'. p. . _waller._--carlyle, aged , wrote to robert mitchell that, lacking society, he found 'books are a ready and effectual resource'. 'it is lawful,' he added, 'for the solitary wight to express the love he feels for those companions so steadfast and unpresuming--that go or come without reluctance, and that, when his fellow-animals are proud or stupid or peevish, are ever ready to cheer the languor of his soul, and gild the barrenness of life with the treasures of bygone times.' walter pater, in _appreciations: style_, observes that 'different classes of persons, at different times, make, of course, very various demands upon literature. still, scholars, i suppose, and not only scholars but all disinterested lovers of books, will always look to it, as to all other fine art, for a refuge, a sort of cloistral refuge, from a certain vulgarity in the actual world. a perfect poem like _lycidas_, a perfect fiction like _esmond_, the perfect handling of a theory like newman's _idea of a university_, has for them something of the uses of a religious "retreat".' p. . _chesterfield._--folio, a book whose sheets are folded into two leaves; quarto, sheets folded into four leaves, abbreviated into to; octavo, sheets folded into eight leaves, vo; duodecimo, sheets folded into twelve leaves, mo. the first three words come to us from the italian, through the french; the last is from the latin _duodecim_. p. . _southey._-- better than men and women, friend, that are dust, though dear in our joy and pain, are the books their cunning hands have penned, for they depart, but the books remain.... when others fail him, the wise man looks to the sure companionship of books.--r. h. stoddard. p. . _southey_ ('a heavenly delight').--see p. . p. . _southey_ ('the best of all possible company').--castanheda died in , barros in , osorio (da fonseca) in . they were portuguese historians. p. . _emerson._ there comes emerson first, whose rich words, every one, are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on.--j. r. lowell. p. . _whittier._--the poet explains that the 'lettered magnate' was his friend fields (james thomas, - ), who edited the _atlantic monthly_. among fields's friends were leigh hunt, barry cornwall, miss mitford, and dickens. longfellow's 'auf wiedersehen' was written 'in memory of j. t. f.', and whittier himself wrote some elegiac verse after his death. it may be noted that elzevir was the name of a famous family of dutch printers, whose books were chiefly issued between and . louis elzevir (? - ) was the first to make the name famous. p. . _roscoe._--the sale of roscoe's library, necessary on account of financial failure, took place in august and september . this roscoe is the historian of the medici. washington irving quotes roscoe's sonnet in his reference to the incident. p. . _longfellow._--these valedictory lines were written in december . in the following year longfellow died. p. . _jonson._--goodyer or goodier (spelt goodyere by herrick) was the friend of donne and of many other literary men, and he wrote verses on his own account. his father, sir henry goodyer, was the patron of michael drayton. p. . _sheridan._--written to dean swift, then in london. p. . _tupper._--'next to possessing a true, wise, and victorious friend seated by your fireside, it is blessed to have the spirit of such a friend embodied--for spirit can assume any embodiment--on your bookshelves. but in the latter case the friendship is all on one side. for full friendship your friend must love you, and know that you love him.'--george macdonald. compare c. s. c.'s parody on page ; and goethe's statement that he only hated parodies 'because they lower the beautiful, noble, and great'. p. . _de bury._--richard de bury was born near bury st. edmunds in , his father being sir richard aungervile. he had a distinguished career at oxford, and was the tutor of edward iii. sent as ambassador to the papal court at avignon, he formed a friendship with petrarch (see pp. and ). while bishop of durham, he was for a short time lord chancellor and also treasurer of england. he finished the _philobiblon_ less than three months before he died, in . thomas fuller says that he had more books than all the other english bishops in that age put together. he had a library at each of his residences, and mr. e. c. thomas tells us, on the authority of william de chambre, that wherever he was residing so many books lay about his bedchamber that it was hardly possible to stand or move without treading upon them. all the time he could spare from business was devoted either to religious offices or to books, and daily at table he would have a book read to him. the _philobiblon_ was printed first at cologne in , then ten years later at spires, and in at paris. the first edition printed in england appeared in , and it was a product of the oxford press. it was not until that any english translation was published. this, although the name was not divulged in the book, was the work of john bellingham inglis. more than half a century passed before another translation was made--that of mr. thomas, who personally examined or collated twenty-eight mss. inglis's translation, according to his successor, is a work of more spirit than accuracy, but it is the spirit that quickeneth, and it is the volume which i have used. p. . _addison._--ovid, _met._ xv. : --which nor dreads the rage of tempests, fire, or war, or wasting age.--welsted. fielding says in _tom jones_:--'i question not but the ingenious author of the _spectator_ was principally induced to prefix greek and latin mottoes to every paper, from the same consideration of guarding against the pursuit of those scribblers who, having no talents of a writer but what is taught by the writing-master, are yet not more afraid nor ashamed to assume the same titles with the greatest genius, than their good brother in the fable was of braying in the lion's skin. by the device, therefore, of his motto, it became impracticable for any man to presume to imitate the _spectators_, without understanding at least one sentence in the learned languages.' 'no praise of addison's style,' lord lytton declares, 'can exaggerate its merits. its art is perfectly marvellous. no change of time can render the workmanship obsolete. his manner has that nameless urbanity in which we recognize the perfection of manner--courteous, but not courtier-like; so dignified, yet so kindly; so easy, yet so high-bred. its form of english is fixed--a safe and eternal model, of which all imitation pleases--to which all approach is scholarship--like the latin of the augustan age.' so much for style. for the rest hazlitt remarks that 'it is the extremely moral and didactic tone of the _spectator_ which makes us apt to think of addison (according to mandeville's sarcasm) as "a parson in a tie-wig"'. how often history repeats itself. p. . _dodd._--his _beauties of shakespeare_, published in , is still well known. dodd was hanged for forgery, despite many efforts, including those of dr. johnson, on his behalf. p. . _hunt._--the periods referred to by leigh hunt are 'the dark ages, as they are called', and 'the gay town days of charles ii, or a little afterwards'. in the first the essayist imagines 'an age of iron warfare and energy, with solitary retreats, in which the monk or the hooded scholar walks forth to meditate, his precious volume under his arm. in the other, i have a triumphant example of the power of books and wit to contest the victory with sensual pleasure:--rochester staggering home to pen a satire in the style of monsieur boileau; butler, cramming his jolly duodecimo with all the learning that he laughed at; and a new race of book poets come up, who, in spite of their periwigs and petit-maîtres, talk as romantically of "the bays" as if they were priests of delphos.' in chapman's translation of homer occur the words: 'the fortresses of thorniest queaches.' a queach is a thick bushy plot, or a quickset hedge. you will see hunt--one of those happy souls which are the salt of the earth, and without whom this world would smell like what it is--a tomb. shelley. _letter to maria gisborne._ p. . _lamb._-- what youth was in thy years, what wisdom in thy levity, what truth in every utterance of that purest soul! few are the spirits of the glorified w. s. landor. encumbered dearly with old books, thou, by the pleasant chimney nooks, didst laugh, with merry-meaning looks, thy griefs away.--lionel johnson. p. . _burton._--compare the remark of the 'hammock school' reviewers in mr. g. k. chesterton's _the napoleon of notting hill_--'next to authentic goodness in a book (and that, alas! we never find) we desire a rich badness.' p. . _channing._--an address introductory to the franklin lectures delivered at boston, . channing's influence increased after his death, which occurred in . in the seventies nearly , copies of his _complete works_ were circulated in america and europe. p. . _hunt._--the novel _camilla_ is madame d'arblay's; the entire passage relating to the oxford scholar's books is given on page . petrarch is quoted on pages and . p. . _landor._--see 'old-fashioned verse' on p. . p. . _burton._--lord byron is reported by moore to have said: 'the book, in my opinion, most useful to a man who wishes to acquire the reputation of being well read, with the least trouble, is burton's _anatomy of melancholy_, the most amusing and instructive medley of quotations and classical anecdotes i ever perused. but a superficial reader must take care, or his intricacies will bewilder him. if, however, he has patience to go through his volumes, he will be more improved for literary conversation than by the perusal of any twenty other works with which i am acquainted, at least in the english language.' dr. johnson, while admitting that the _anatomy_ is a valuable work, suggests that it is overloaded with quotation. but he adds, 'it is the only book that ever took me out of bed two hours sooner than i wished to rise.' p. . _southey._--'southey's appearance is _epic_; and he is the only existing entire man of letters. all the others have some pursuit annexed to their authorship'.--lord byron. ye, loved books, no more shall southey feed upon your precious lore, to works that ne'er shall forfeit their renown, adding immortal labours of his own.--wordsworth. (inscription for a monument in crosthwaite church). p. . _montaigne._--michel eyquem, seigneur de montaigne, began to write his essays in his château at montaigne in périgord in , at the age of thirty-nine. the essays were published in , and five editions had appeared before his death in . _the essayes of michael lord of montaigne_ translated by john florio were first published in . the translator was born in london about , and he died in . it is this translation from which my excerpts are given, and it is the only book known to have been in shakespeare's library; the volume contains his autograph, and is now in the british museum. emerson classes montaigne in his _representative men_ as the sceptic. he calls to mind that gibbon reckoned, in the bigoted times of the period, but two men of liberality in france--henry iv and montaigne--and adds, 'though a biblical plainness, coupled with a most uncanonical levity, may shut his pages to many sensitive readers, yet the offence is superficial.... i know not anywhere the book that seems less written. it is the language of conversation transferred to a book.' p. . _denham._--dominico mancini wrote the _libellus de quattuor virtutibus_, published in paris, . p. . _johnson._--the excerpts from johnson and from boswell's _life_ are taken, where possible, from dr. birkbeck hill's oxford edition. p. . _rabelais._--the translation is that of peter anthony motteux ( - ) and of sir thomas urquhart ( - ). it may be remembered that pantagruel on his travels found in paris 'the library of st. victor, a very stately and magnificent one, especially in some books which were there', of which the repertory or catalogue is given. a few of the titles are:--_the pomegranate of vice_, _the henbane of the bishops_, _the crucible of contemplation_, _the flimflams of the law_, _the pleasures of the monachal life_, _sixty-nine fat breviaries_, and _the chimney-sweeper of astrology_. some of the titles are too 'rabelaesian', or what some booksellers call 'curious', to print. a certain number of the books appear to have actually existed outside the author's imagination. p. . _herrick._--these are, of course, separate poems, scattered fruit of the _hesperides_. see also the note on page . 'absyrtus-like': an allusion, of course, to the story of medea, who took her brother absyrtus with her when she fled with jason. being nearly overtaken by her father, medea murdered absyrtus, and strewed the road with pieces of his body so that the pursuit might be stayed. p. . _daniel._--this sonnet was prefaced to the second edition of florio's _montaigne_ ( ), and is often ascribed to the translator; but the weight of criticism credits the authorship to daniel. mr. locker-lampson was tempted to write a couple of verses for the fly-leaf of the rowfant montaigne, which not only belonged to shakespeare, but was also given by pope to gay and enjoyed by johnson: for me the halycon days have passed, i'm here and with a dunce at last. see note on previous page. p. . _milton._--milton's prose masterpiece was printed, in a modified form, by mirabeau, under the title _sur la liberté de la presse_, imité de l'anglais, de milton. p. . _leighton._-- methinks in that refulgent sphere that knows not sun or moon, an earth-born saint might long to hear one verse of 'bonnie doon'.--o. w. holmes. p. . _hazlitt._--'because they both wrote essays and were fond of the elizabethans,' mr. augustine birrell says, 'it became the fashion to link hazlitt's name with lamb's. hazlitt suffered by the comparison.' p. . _hunt._--the poet is wordsworth and the lines 'oh that my name' are found in 'personal talk'. see page . p. . _carlyle._--in _the hero as priest_ carlyle wrote of luther's written works: 'the dialect of these speculations is now grown obsolete for us; but one still reads them with a singular attraction. and indeed the mere grammatical diction is still legible enough; luther's merit in literary history is of the greatest; his dialect became the language of all writing. they are not well written, these four-and-twenty quartos of his; written hastily, with quite other than literary objects. but in no books have i found a more robust, genuine, i will say noble faculty of a man than in these. a rugged honesty, homeliness, simplicity; a rugged sterling sense and strength. he flashes-out illumination from him; his smiting idiomatic phrases seem to cleave into the very secret of the matter. good humour too, nay, tender affection, nobleness, and depth: this man could have been a poet too! he had to _work_ an epic poem, not write one.' beneath the rule of men entirely great the pen is mightier than the sword. behold the arch-enchanter's wand!--itself a nothing.-- but taking sorcery from the master-hand to paralyse the caesars, and to strike the loud earth breathless!--take away the sword-- states can be saved without it! lytton. _richelieu_, act ii, sc. ii. p. . _macaulay._--'macaulay is like a book in breeches.'--sydney smith. p. . _maurice._--the first ptolemy founded the famous alexandrian library which is supposed to have been partly destroyed by christian fanatics in a.d., the arabs in completing the work of destruction. p. . _fuller._--'fuller's language!' coleridge writes: 'grant me patience, heaven! a tithe of his beauties would be sold cheap for a whole library of our classical writers, from addison to johnson and junius inclusive. and bishop nicolson!--a painstaking old charwoman of the antiquarian and rubbish concern! the venerable rust and dust of the whole firm are not worth an ounce of fuller's earth!' the rest of this essay will be found on page . the learned man referred to in the last paragraph is erasmus. p. . _browne._--pineda in _monarchica ecclesiastica_ mentions , authors. see the note above on maurice. p. . _addison._--'the multiplication of readers is the multiplication of loaves. on the day when christ created that symbol, he caught a glimpse of printing. his miracle is this marvel. behold a book. i will nourish with it five thousand souls--a million souls--all humanity. in the action of christ bringing forth the loaves, there is gutenberg bringing forth books. one sower heralds the other.... gutenberg is for ever the auxiliary of life; he is the permanent fellow-workman in the great work of civilization. nothing is done without him. he has marked the transition of the man-slave to the free man. try and deprive civilization of him, you become egypt.'--victor hugo on shakespeare. p. . _de quincey._--'the few shelves which would hold all the true classics extant might receive as many more of the like as there is any chance that the next two or three centuries could produce, without burthening the select and leisurely scholar with a sense of how much he had to read.'--c. patmore. _principle in art: william barnes._ p. . _temple._--sir william temple's historic dispute with wotton and bentley, in which he had the assistance of charles boyle, afterwards earl of orrery, provoked swift's _battle of the books_. compare boileau's _la lutrin_. p. . _swift._--'"the battle of the books" is the fancy of a lover of libraries.'--leigh hunt. the royal library at st. james's alluded to was one of the nine privileged libraries which received copies of new books under the copyright act of anne. the privilege passed to the british museum in , when george ii made over the royal collection to the nation. p. . _bacon._--sir william temple in his _essay on the ancient and modern learning_ (pp. , , ) concludes 'with a saying of alphonsus sirnamed the wise, king of aragon: that among so many things as are by men possessed or pursued in the course of their lives, all the rest are bawbles, besides old wood to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to converse with, and old books to read'. p. . _goldsmith._--horace walpole wrote to the rev. william cole (letter ; oxford edition): 'there is a chapter in voltaire that would cure anybody of being a great man even in his own eyes. it is the chapter in which a chinese goes into a bookseller's shop, and marvels at not finding any of his own country's classics.' p. . _hazlitt._--'william hazlitt, i believe, has no books, except mine; but he has shakespeare and rousseau by heart.'--leigh hunt. p. . _hazlitt._--hazlitt wrote this essay in florence, on his honeymoon, and it opens with a quotation from sterne: 'and what of this new book, that the whole world make such a rout about?' lord byron had died in the previous year, . 'laws are not like women, the worse for being old.'--the duke of buckingham's speech in the house of lords in charles the second's time (hazlitt's note). p. . _dudley._--rogers is reported to have said, 'when a new book comes out i read an old one.' p. . _macaulay._--pyrgopolynices (plautus: _miles gloriosus_); thraso (terence: _eunuch_); bobadil (ben jonson: _every man in his humour_); bessus (beaumont and fletcher: _a king and no king_); pistol (_the merry wives of windsor_); parolles (_all's well that ends well_); nephelococcygia (aristophanes: _the birds_--the cuckoos' town in the clouds); lilliput (swift: _gulliver's travels_--the pygmies' country). p. . _ascham._--thomas blundeville wrote some lines in praise of roger ascham's latin grammar:-- of english books as i could find, i have perused many a one: yet so well done unto my mind, as this is, yet have i found none. the words of matter here do rise, so fitly and so naturally, as heart can wish or wit devise, in my conceit and fantasy. the words well chosen and well set, do bring such light unto the sense: as if i lacked i would not let to buy this book for forty pence. this was published in . p. . _wither._--bevis of hampton, a hero of early mediaeval romance. the story has been published by the early english text society. compare 'the common rabble of scribblers and blur-papers which nowadays stuff stationers' shops.'--montaigne. p. . _fuller._--the other portion of this essay will be found on page . arius montanus was the court chaplain of philip ii of spain, and he personally superintended the printing of the _biblia polyglotta_ ( vols., - ), the most famous of the books printed by christophe plantin. the printing office is one of the sights of antwerp, whose council bought the property from plantin's descendants in for £ , . compare also: 'evil books corrupt at once both our manners and our taste.'--fielding. p. . _addison._--addison 'takes off the severity of this speculation' with an anecdote of an atheistical author who was sick unto death. a curate, to comfort him, said he did not believe any besides the author's particular friends or acquaintance had ever been at the pains of reading his book, or that anybody after his death would ever inquire after it. 'the dying man had still so much the frailty of an author in him, as to be cut to the heart with these consolations; and without answering the good man, asked his friends about him (with a peevishness that is natural to a sick person) where they had picked up such a blockhead?' it seems that the author recovered, 'and has since written two or three other tracts with the same spirit, and very luckily for his poor soul with the same success.' p. . _milton._--'for he [pliny the elder] read no book which he did not make extracts from. he used to say that "no book was so bad but some good might be got out of it."'--pliny the younger. p. . _baxter._--'richard, richard, dost thou think we will let thee poison the court? richard, thou art an old knave. thou hast written books enough to load a cart, and every book as full of sedition as an egg is full of meat.'--judge jeffreys' address at baxter's trial. p. . _athenian mercury._--an 'answer to correspondents'--the question 'whether 'tis lawful to read romances?' being asked in _the athenian mercury_. this, the first popular periodical published in this country, was started in , and written by john dunton, r. sault, and samuel (the father of john) wesley; the last number appeared in , and dunton collected into three volumes the most valuable questions and answers under the title of _the athenian oracle_. gray's wish was to be always lying on sofas, reading 'eternal new novels of crébillon and marivaux'. p. . _cobbett._--cobbett attacks dr. johnson, because in a pamphlet he urged war on the american colonies; burke, because in another pamphlet he urged war on revolutionary france. 'the first war lost us america, the last cost us six hundred millions of money, and has loaded us with forty millions a year of taxes.' p. . _more._--tom hickathrift, who killed a giant at tylney, norfolk, with a cartwheel. he dates from the conquest, and was made governor of thanet. p. . _austen._--_cecilia_ and _camilla_, both by mme. d'arblay; _belinda_, by miss edgeworth. 'she [diana] says of romance: "the young who avoid that region escape the title of fool at the cost of a celestial crown."'-george meredith. _diana of the crossways._ p. . _herschel._--'the most influential books, and the truest in their influence, are works of fiction.'--r. l. stevenson. p. . _burton._--'they lard their lean books with the fat of others' works.'--burton. p. . _milton._--south said that _eikon basilike_ was 'composed with such an unfailing majesty of diction, that it seems to have been written with a sceptre rather than a pen'. milton condemns the king for having 'so little care of truth in his last words, or honour to himself, or to his friends, or sense of his afflictions, or of that sad hour which was upon him, as immediately before his death to pop into the hand of that grave bishop [juxon] who attended him, for a special relic of his saintly exercises, a prayer stolen word for word from the mouth of a heathen woman praying to a heathen god; and that in no serious book, but the vain amatorious poem of sir philip sidney's _arcadia_'. p. . _dryden._--hazlitt, who could not 'much relish ben jonson', describes him as 'a great borrower from the works of others, and a plagiarist even from nature; so little freedom is there in his imitations of her, and he appears to receive her bounty like an alms'. j. a. symonds, stating that jonson 'held the prose writers and poets of antiquity in solution in his spacious memory', points out that such looting on his part of classical treasuries of wit and wisdom was accounted no robbery in his age. p. . _sheridan._--churchill has the same thought in _the apology_: like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, defacing first, then claiming for their own. p. . _pattison._--matthew arnold, in the preface to _literature and dogma_ ( ), points out that 'to read to good purpose we must read a great deal, and be content not to use a great deal of what we read. we shall never be content not to use the whole, or nearly the whole, of what we read, unless we read a great deal.' p. . _mitford._--'every abridgement of a good book is a stupid abridgement.'--montaigne. p. . _tennyson._--j. j. jusserand, in the first annual shakespeare lecture before the british academy (july , ), used eloquent language which might be said to justify bibliographies:--'books, like their authors, have their biography. they live their own lives. some behave like honourable citizens of the world of thought, do good, propagate sound views, strengthen heart and courage, assuage, console, improve those men to whose hearths they have been invited. others corrupt or debase, or else turn minds towards empty frivolities. in proportion to their fame, and to the degree of their perenniality, is the good or evil that they do from century to century, eternal benefactors of mankind or deathless malefactors. posted on the road followed by humanity, they help or destroy the passers-by; they deserve gratitude eternal, or levy the toll of some of our life's blood, leaving us weaker; highwaymen or good samaritans. some make themselves heard at once and continue to be listened to for ever; others fill the ears for one or two generations, and then begin an endless sleep; or, on the contrary, long silent or misunderstood, they awake from their torpor, and astonished mankind discovers with surprise long-concealed treasures like those trodden upon by the unwary visitor of unexplored ruins.' p. . _helps._--'my desire is ... that mine adversary had written a book.'--the author of job, ch. . 'curll, pope's victim and accomplice ... hit on one of those epoch-making ideas which are so simple when once they are conceived, so difficult, save for the loftiest genius, in their first conception. it occurred to him that, in a world governed by the law of mortality, men might be handsomely entertained on one another's remains. he lost no time in putting his theory into action. during the years of his activity he published some forty or fifty separate _lives_, intimate, anecdotal, scurrilous sometimes, of famous and notorious persons who had the ill-fortune to die during his lifetime.... his books commanded a large sale, and modern biography was established.'--sir w. raleigh. _six essays on johnson._ it is related in _the percy anecdotes_ that 'a gentleman calling on archbishop tillotson observed in his library one shelf of books of various forms and sizes, all richly bound, finely gilt and lettered. he inquired what favourite authors these were that had been so remarkably distinguished by his grace. "these," said the archbishop, "are my own personal friends; and what is more i have made them such (for they were avowedly my enemies), by the use i have made of those hints which their malice had suggested to me. from these i have received more profit than from the advice of my best and most cordial friends; and therefore you see i have rewarded them accordingly."' p. . _disraeli._--compare emerson: 'there is properly no history, only biography; and carlyle: 'history is the essence of innumerable biographies.' 'those that write of men's lives,' says montaigne, 'forasmuch as they amuse and busy themselves more about counsels than events, more about that which cometh from within than that which appeareth outward; they are fittest for me.' p. . _glanvill._--an original fellow of the royal society, and in many ways an interesting divine, probably best known in these days through matthew arnold's 'scholar-gypsy', whose story is told in _the vanity of dogmatizing_ ( ), from which this quotation and that on page are made. p. . _jonson._--the poem 'to the memory of my beloved master william shakespeare, and what he hath left us' appeared in . p. . _jonson._--this was printed in the first folio of shakespeare's works, , on the page opposite the droeshout portrait. p. . _milton._--these lines were printed anonymously in the second folio shakespeare, , and, it is believed, this was milton's first appearance as a poet. p. . _dryden._--this was printed under the engraving in tonson's folio edition of _paradise lost_ ( ). mr. f. a. mumby, in _the romance of bookselling_, recalls that in moseley's first edition of milton's poems there was an atrocious portrait of the poet by william marshall. milton wrote four lines in greek, which the artist, innocent of that language, gravely cut into the plate, lines that dr. masson has thus translated: that an unskilful hand had carved this print you'd say at once, seeing the living face; but, finding here no jot of me, my friends, laugh at the botching artist's mis-attempt. p. . _fletcher._--the subject of this poem was giles fletcher, the author of _christ's victory and triumph_, 'equally beloved of the muses and graces.' p. . _crashaw._--from _the flaming heart_. 'his masterpiece, one of the most astonishing things in english or any literature, comes without warning at the end of _the flaming heart_. for page after page the poet has been playing on some trifling conceit ... and then in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, without warning of any sort, the metre changes, the poet's inspiration catches fire, and then rushes up into the heaven of poetry the marvellous rocket of song: "live in these conquering leaves," &c. the contrast is perhaps unique as regards the colourlessness of the beginning and the splendid colour of the end. but contrasts like it occur all over crashaw's work.'--professor saintsbury. _history of elizabethan literature._ as an interesting example of crashaw's conceits it may be noted that, when alluding to mary magdalene, he speaks of her eyes as 'portable and compendious oceans.' p. . _voltaire._--the philosopher also remarks, in the same article, that 'there is hardly a single philosophical or theological book in which heresies and impieties may not be found by misinterpreting, or adding to, or subtracting from, the sense'. p. . _carlyle._--abelard, born , died , is less known now as a famous teacher at the university of paris than as the lover of héloise. p. . _trapp and browne._--when george i sent a present of some books, in november , to the university of cambridge, he sent at the same time a troop of horse to oxford. this inspired dr. trapp and provoked the rejoinder from sir william browne. p. . _earle._--mr. a. s. west, in his edition of earle's _microcosmographie; or a piece of the world discovered; in essayes and characters_, says: 'the critic supposed that _omneis_ was the original form of the accusative plural of _omnis_, and that the forms _omnes_ and _omnis_ had taken its place. in order to adhere to the older spelling "he writes _omneis_ at length". _quicquid_ is cited as an instance of pedantry because the ordinary man wrote the word as _quidquid_, and doubtless so pronounced it. the critic's gerund may be described as "inconformable" because it resists attraction--remains a gerund and does not become a gerundive. or earle may have had in view passages in which the gerund of transitive verbs with _est_ govern an object.' p. . _goldsmith._--'when dr. johnson is free to confess that he does not admire gray's _elegy_, and macaulay to avow that he sees little to praise in dickens and wordsworth, why should not humbler folks have the courage of their opinions?' such is the question asked by james payn in the _nineteenth century_ (march ), his article being entitled 'sham admiration in literature'. mr. payn noted that 'curiously enough, it is women who have the most courage in the expression of their literary opinions', instancing the authoress of _jane eyre_, who 'did not derive much pleasure from the perusal of the works of the other jane [austen]', and harriet martineau, who confessed to him that she could see no beauties in _tom jones_. 'there is no ignorance more shameful than to admit as true that which one does not understand: and there is no advantage so great as that of being set free from error.'--xenophon. _memorabilia._ p. . _fielding._--'what a master of composition fielding was! upon my word, i think the _oedipus tyrannus_, _the alchemist_, and _tom jones_, the three most perfect plots ever planned.... how charming, how wholesome, fielding always is!'--s. t. coleridge. _table talk._ p. . _erasmus._--the translation is the work of nathaniel bailey, lexicographer and schoolmaster, who died in . desiderius and erasmus are latin and greek for gerhard 'the beloved', the name of the scholar's father. p. . _colton._--compare r. b. sheridan's: 'easy writing's curst hard reading.' p. . _bacon._--mr. a. s. gaye, in the new clarendon press edition of the _essays_, points out that on almost every page the reader will find quotations from the bible and from the greek and latin classics, especially tacitus, plutarch, cicero, virgil, seneca, and ovid, besides frequent allusions to biblical, classical, and mediaeval history. 'it is also remarkable that the quotations are more often than not inaccurate, not only in words but in sense.... bacon furnished in himself an exception to the rule which he laid down in his essay "of studies"; for though "reading" made him "a full man", "writing" did not make him "an exact man".' p. . _boswell._--one of mrs. piozzi's anecdotes of dr. johnson is that he asked 'was there ever yet anything written by mere man that was wished longer by its readers excepting _don quixote_, _robinson crusoe_, and the _pilgrim's progress_?' johnson declared that the work of cervantes was the greatest in the world, 'speaking of it, i mean, as a book of entertainment.' p. . _emerson._--shakespeare's phrase: _taming of the shrew_, act i, sc. i. p. . _emerson._--o. w. holmes applies the proverb to the bible. 'what you bring away from the bible depends to some extent on what you carry to it.' p. . _calverley._--see tupper's lines on page . the allusions are, of course, to the creations of bulwer-lytton. p. . _gibbon._--f. w. robertson's opinion is worth recording: 'it is very surprising to find how little we retain of a book, how little we have really made our own, when we come to interrogate ourselves as to what account we can give of it, however we may seem to have mastered it by understanding it. hundreds of books read once have passed as completely from us as if we had never read them; whereas the discipline of mind got by writing down, not copying, an abstract of a book which is worth the trouble, fixes it on the mind for years, and, besides, enables one to read other books with more attention and more profit.' p. . _hamilton._--'this assumes that the book to be operated on is your own, and perhaps is rather too elaborate a counsel of perfection for most of us.'--lord morely. p. . _addison._--hor. _ars poet._ . :-- when the sentiments and manners please, and all the characters are wrought with ease, your tale, though void of beauty, force, and art, more strongly shall delight and warm the heart; than where a lifeless pomp of verse appears, and with sonorous trifles charms our ears.--francis. butler, writing of 'a small poet' (_characters_), says: 'there was one that lined a hat-case with a paper of benlowe's poetry: prynne bought it by chance, and put a new demicastor into it. the first time he wore it he felt a singing in his head, which within two days turned to a vertigo.' a 'demicastor' is a hat. p. . _scott._--mr. w. j. courthope, in his warton lecture on english poetry before the british academy, read on october , , observes that 'the best illustration of historic change in "romantic" temper is perhaps to be found in a comparison of cervantes' account of the character of don quixote [see p. ] with walter scott's representation of the romanticism of the hero of _waverley_. don quixote's "fancy", says cervantes, "grew full of what he used to read about in his books, enchantments, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves, agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so possessed his mind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read of was true, that to him no history in the world had more reality in it." ... "my intention," says scott, "is not to follow the steps of the inimitable cervantes in describing such total perversion of intellect as misconstrues the objects actually presented to the senses, but the more common aberration from sound judgement, which apprehends occurrences indeed in their reality, but communicates to them a tincture of its own romantic colouring."' scott expatiates at length on waverley's reading in the third chapter of his novel. p. . _boswell._--macaulay writes in his review of southey's edition of _the pilgrim's progress_: 'doctor johnson, all whose studies were desultory, and who hated, as he said, to read books through, made an exception in favour of _the pilgrim's progress_. that work was one of the two or three works which he wished longer. it was by no common merit that the illiterate sectary extracted praise like this from the most pedantic of critics and the most bigoted of tories.' boswell relates that dr. johnson 'had a peculiar facility in seizing at once what was valuable in any book, without submitting to the labour of perusing it from beginning to end.' p. . _chandos._--the authorship of _horae subsecivae_ is not absolutely known, but it is attributed to james i's favourite courtier. it was published in , the year before chandos died. p. . _waller._--'a library well chosen cannot be too extensive, but some there are who amass a great quantity of books, which they keep for show, and not for service. of such persons, louis xi of france aptly enough observed, that "they resembled _hunch-backed_ people, who carried a great burden, which _they never saw_".'--w. keddie. _cyclopaedia_. p. . _coleridge._--the most deadly thing that coleridge wrote was when he classed the patrons of the circulating libraries as lower in the scale than that reading public nine-tenths of whose reading is confined to periodicals and 'beauties, elegant extracts and anas [anecdotes]'. p. . _boswell._--dr. birkbeck hill points out that boswell alludes to this opinion in one of his letters, modestly adding: 'i am afraid i have not read books enough to be able to talk from them.' johnson particularized langton as talking from books, 'and garrick would if he talked seriously.' p. . _s. smith._--bettinelli, a scholar and a jesuit ( - ), who attacked the reputation of dante and petrarch. coventry patmore wrote: 'if you want to shine as a diner-out, the best way is to know something which others do not know, and not to know many things which everybody knows. this takes much less reading, and is doubly effective, inasmuch as it makes you a really good, that is, an interested listener, as well as a talker.'--(_on obscure books._) p. . _colton._--'methinks 'tis a pitiful piece of knowledge that can be learnt from an index and a poor ambition to be rich in the inventory of another's treasure.'--j. glanvill. _the vanity of dogmatizing._ p. . _cervantes._--a whole chapter is devoted to the destruction of don quixote's library. (part i, chap, vi.) the books that, condemned by the priest, were passed into the housekeeper's hands and thence into the fire were:--_adventures of esplandian_; _amadis of greece_; _don olivante de laura_; _florismarte of hyrcania_; _the knight platir_; _the knight of the cross_; _bernardo del carpio_; _roncesvalles_; _palmerin de oliva_; _diana_, called the second, by salmantino; _the shepherd of iberia_; _the nymphs of henares_; and _the curse of jealousy_. the priest, however, put by for further examination or determined to save: _amadis de gaul_; _the mirror of chivalry_, and 'all other books that shall be found treating of french matters'; _palmerin of england_; _don belianis_; _tirante the white_; _diana_, of montemayor, and its continuation by gil polo; _ten books of the fortune of love_; _the shepherd of filida_; _the treasure of divers poems_ (de padilla); _book of songs_, by lopez maldonado; _galatea_, by cervantes; _araucana_; _austriada_; _monserrate_; and the _tears of angelica_. the curious reader will find these volumes traced in the admirable notes in j. fitzmaurice-kelly's edition of _don quixote_ in 'the world's classics'. cervantes, mr. fitzmaurice-kelly says, devoured in his wandering youth, 'those folios of chivalrous adventures which he, and he alone, has saved from the iniquity of oblivion'. the early association of barabbas and books will be noticed. it is the translation by charles jervas, first published in , which is here employed. _the renowned romance of amadis of gaul_, by vasco lobeira, which was expressly condemned by montaigne (see p. ), was translated from the spanish version of garciodonez de montalvo by southey. p. . _ruskin._--as mr. frederic harrison points out, 'books are no more education than laws are virtue; and, just as profligacy is easy within the strict limits of law, a boundless knowledge of books may be found with a narrow education.' p. . _e. b. browning._--this letter was written to 'orion' horne three years before mrs. browning's marriage in , when she was thirty-seven. compare matthew arnold in the preface to _literature and dogma_ ( ): 'nothing can be truer than what butler says, that really, in general, no part of our time is more idly spent than the time spent in reading. still, culture is indispensably necessary, and culture is reading; but reading with a purpose to guide it, and with system.' p. . _maurice._--this is better than sydney smith's attitude expressed in the question, 'who reads an american book, or goes to an american play, or looks at an american picture or statue?' p. . _blackie._--'reading is seeing by proxy--is learning indirectly through another man's faculties, instead of directly through one's own faculties; and such is the prevailing bias, that the indirect learning is thought preferable to the direct learning, and usurps the name of cultivation.'--herbert spencer. _the study of sociology._ p. . _montaigne._--'montesquieu used to say that he had never known a pain or a distress which he could not soothe by half an hour of a good book.'--lord morley. p. . _davies._-- what is the end of fame? 'tis but to fill a certain portion of uncertain paper ... to have, when the original is dust, a name, a wretched picture, and worse bust. lord byron, _don juan_. p. . _hall._--'hard students are commonly troubled with gouts, catarrhs, rheums, cachexia, bradiopepsia, bad eyes, stone and colic, crudities, oppitations, vertigo, winds, consumptions, and all such diseases as come by overmuch sitting; they are most part lean, dry, ill-coloured, spend their fortunes, lose their wits, and many times their lives, and all through immoderate pains, and extraordinary studies.'--r. burton. _the anatomy of melancholy._ p. . _lytton._--'i look upon a library as a kind of mental chemist's shop, filled with the crystals of all forms and hues which have come from the union of individual thought with local circumstances or universal principles.'--o. w. holmes. _the professor at the breakfast-table._ p. . _walpole._--mr. augustine birrell in _obiter dicta: the office of literature_ writes that the author's office is to make the reader happy:-- 'cooks, warriors, and authors must be judged by the effects they produce: toothsome dishes, glorious victories, pleasant books--these are our demands.... 'literature exists to please--to lighten the burden of men's lives; to make them for a short while forget their sorrows and their sins, their silenced hearths, their disappointed hopes, their grim futures--and those men of letters are the best loved who have best performed literature's truest office.' p. . _chaucer._--the book referred to is ovid's _metamorphoses_. p. . _digby._--sir kenelm digby's 'observations' are generally printed with _religio medici_, although in a letter to sir t. browne, who had written to him on the subject, he explained that the hastily set down notes did not merit the press, and would 'serve only for a private letter, or a familiar discourse with lady-auditors'. to sir thomas browne, 'a library,' says coleridge, 'was a living world, and every book a man, absolute flesh and blood.' p. . _boswell._--'who is he that is now wholly overcome with idleness, or otherwise involved in a labyrinth of worldly cares, troubles, and discontents, that will not be much lightened in his mind by reading of some enticing story, true or feigned, where as in a glass he shall observe what our forefathers have done, the beginnings, ruins, ends, falls of commonwealths, private men's actions displayed to the life, &c. plutarch therefore calls them _secundas mensas et bellaria_, the second courses and junkets, because they were usually read at noblemen's feasts.'--r. burton. _anatomy_. p. . _rabelais._-- whence is thy learning? hath thy toil o'er books consumed the midnight oil?--j. gay. p. . _wilson._--this is often taken to be an antique. as a matter of fact, mr. john wilson, a london bookseller, stated to mr. austin dobson that he wrote the lines as a motto for one of his second-hand catalogues. wilson, mr. dobson tells us, was amused at the vogue the lines eventually obtained. p. . _chaucer._--this is the earlier version, and to be preferred to the later, in which the passage ends: farwel my book and my devocioun! wel unethe=scarcely any. p. . _tickle._--'written in a fit of the gout.' 'and laid the storm,' &c.: the advice given to augustus by athenodorus the stoic philosopher. see shakespeare's _love's labour's lost_, act v, sc. i. holofernes 'teaches boys the horn-book'. p. . _richardson._--in his preface to _pamela_ richardson claims to give 'practical examples worthy to be followed in the most critical and affecting cases by the modest virgin, the chaste bride, and the obliging wife'. the heroine becomes mrs. b----, and billy is the first-born. locke's treatise was published in , or forty-seven years before richardson's novel, and the philosopher observes 'that most children's constitutions are either spoiled, or at least harmed, by _cockering and tenderness_'. 'mr. b.' recommended better than he knew. p. . _johnson_ ('at large in the library').--ruskin gives the same advice. see p. . p. . _gibbon._--the _autobiography_, in sir archibald alison's opinion, is 'the most perfect account of an eminent man's life, from his own hand, which exists in any language'. p. . _landor._--see the poem to wordsworth on p. . p. . _hunt._--the friend referred to was shelley. p. . _dickens._--of this passage, forster says in the _life of dickens_, 'it is one of the many passages in _copperfield_ which are literally true.... every word of this personal recollection had been written down as fact, some years before it found its way into _david copperfield_; the only change in the fiction being his omission of the name of a cheap series of novelists then in course of publication, by means of which his father had become happily the owner of so large a lump of literary treasure in his small collection of books.' apropos of defoe, macaulay, who could not 'understand the mania of some people about defoe', admitted that 'he certainly wrote an excellent book--the first part of _robinson crusoe_ ... my delight before i was five years old'. p. . _hazlitt._--it is reported (dibdin relates in _bibliomania_) that a certain man, of the name of similis, who fought under the emperor hadrian, became so wearied and disgusted with the number of troublesome events which he met with in that mode of life, that he retired and devoted himself wholly to leisure and reading, and to meditations upon divine and human affairs, after the manner of pythagoras. in this retirement, similis was wont frequently to exclaim that '_now_ he began to _live_': at his death he desired the following inscription to be placed upon his tomb. here lies similis; in the seventieth year of his age but only the seventh of his life. in a note it is stated that 'this story is related by dion cassius and from him told by spizelius in his _infelix literarius_'. p. . _donne._--this is the title given by donne's editors, but is nonsense. grosart explains that pindar's instructress was corinna the theban, and that lucan's 'help' is probably his helpmeet--argentaria polla, his wife who survived him. p. . _dante._--this is the famous passage in canto v referring to paolo and francesca.--(cary's translation.) p. . _moore._-- for where is any author in the world teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? shakespeare. _love's labour's lost_, act iv. sc. iii. p. . _more._--warton thinks it probable that sir thomas more--'one of the best jokers of the age'--may have written this epigram, which he considers the first pointed epigram in our language. but by some the lines are credited to henry howard, earl of surrey, who is memorable, among other things, for introducing the sonnet from italy into england, a distinction which he shares with wyatt. p. . _moore._--'mamurra was a dogmatic philosopher, who never doubted about anything, except who was his father; bombastus, one of the names of the great scholar and quack paracelsus. st. jerome was scolded by an angel for reading cicero, as gratia tells the story in his _concordantia discordantium canonum_, and says, that for this reason bishops were not allowed to read the classics'. p. . _scott._--the roxburgh club was inaugurated on the day of the sale of the duke of roxburgh's library in in order to print for members rare books or manuscripts. the club had numerous offspring, including the bannatyne club (see p. , and the note thereon). the duke of roxburgh's library, which was celebrated for its caxtons, sold for £ , . p. . _e. b. browning._-- here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough, a flask of wine, a book of verse--and thou beside me singing in the wilderness-- and wilderness is paradise enow. e. fitzgerald. _omar khayyám._ p. . _macaulay._--'neither we nor divinity require much learning in women; francis, duke of brittany, son to john v, when he was spoke unto for a marriage between him and isabel, a daughter of scotland, and some told him she was meanly brought up, and without any instruction of learning, answered he loved her the better for it, and that a woman was wise enough if she could but make a difference between the shirt and doublet of her husband's.'--montaigne. p. . _ruskin._--compare johnson's advice on page . p. . _addison._--virgil _aeneid_, vii. : unused to spinning, in the loom unskilled.--dryden. the _virgil_ of ogilby, or ogilvy, originally a dancing-master, was published in , and was the first complete english translation (ogilby is mentioned by pope, see page ); _cassandra_, _cleopatra_, _astraea_, _the grand cyrus_ and _clelia_ were french romances translated into english. sidney called his pastoral romance _the countess of pembroke's arcadia_; sherlock's _discourse on death_ passed through forty editions; _the fifteen comforts_, a translation of a french satirical work of the fifteenth century; sir richard baker's _chronicle of the kings of england from the time of the romans' government unto the death of king james_ ( ); mrs. manley was tried for libelling the nobility in her _secret memoirs and manners of several persons of quality of both sexes from the new atlantis_ ( ); the fielding referred to is beau fielding, tried at the old bailey in for a bigamous marriage with the duchess of cleveland. in addison's time, dr. johnson wrote, 'in the female world, any acquaintance with books was distinguished only to be censured.' p. . _addison._--hor. _ep._ ii. : what would you have me do, when out of twenty i can please not two?-- one likes the pheasant's wing, and one the leg; the vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg; hard task, to hit the palate of such guests.--pope. the _vindication_ was the work of charles leslie, the non-juror; _pharamond_, a romance dealing with the frankish empire, by la calprenède; _cassandra_ is wrong--the french work, also by la calprenède, was _cassandre_ (the son of antipater); _all for love_, dryden's play; _sophonisba_, by lee; _the innocent adultery_, the second name of sotherne's _the fatal marriage_; _mithridates_ was by lee, who also wrote _the rival queens, or the death of alexander the great_, and _theodosius_; _aureng-zebe_, dryden's tragedy. (t. arnold's _addison_: clarendon press). p. . _sheridan._--the first reference to a circulating library given in the _oxford english dictionary_ is an advertisement, june , --'proposals for erecting a public circulating library in london.' joseph knight, in the oxford edition of sheridan's _plays_, annotates this passage fully. dillingham, sending his latin translation of herbert's _porch_ to sancroft, says: 'i know that if these should be once published, it would be too late then to prevent, if not to correct a fault; i therefore shall take it as a great kindness if you will please to put on your critical naile, and to give your impartial censure on these papers while they are yet in the tireing roome; and i shall endeavour to amend them with one great or more lesser blotts.' sancroft replies: 'i greedily took your original in one hand, and your copy in the other, of which i had suffered one nayl (though it pretends not to be a critical one) to grow ever since you bespoke its service.' compare herrick:-- be bold, my book, nor be abashed, or fear the cutting thumb-nail, or the brow severe; but by the muses swear, all here is good, if but, well read or ill read, understood. blonds=blond laces, produced from unbleached silk. all the works mentioned have been identified. the _innocent adultery_ is the alternative title of sotherne's _fatal marriage_; _the whole duty of man_ was by allestree, once provost of eton; the 'admirable mrs. chapone', an admirer of richardson, and a contributor to the _rambler_; 'under the most repulsive exterior that any woman ever possessed she concealed very superior attainments and extensive knowledge'; fordyce was johnson's friend, and his sermons were specially addressed to young women. p. . _chaucer._--holwe=hollow; courtepy=short upper coat of a coarse material; fithele=fiddle; sautrye=psaltery; hente=borrow; yaf=gave; scoleye=to attend school; sentence=sentiment; souninge in=conducing to. p. . _brant._--sebastian brant's _narrenschiff_, published in , at basle, was the first printed book that treated of contemporaneous events and living persons, instead of old german battles and french knights. barclay's translation, professor max müller points out, 'was not made from the original but from locher's latin translation. it reproduces the matter, but not the marrow of the original satire ... in some parts his translation is an improvement on the original.' _the ship of fools_ in its original form, and in numerous translations, had an enormous success, edition after edition being printed. aparayle=apparatus. p. . _young._--t--n=tonson. p. . _ferriar._--the first edition of this poem was issued as a quarto pamphlet in . it is reprinted in the second volume of the second edition of ferriar's _illustrations of sterne, and other essays_, , with some additional lines. 'he, whom chief the laughing muses own' is aristophanes; the lines that follow refer to the fire of london. d--n=dryden. 'on one of these occasions [a book-auction] a succession of valuable fragments of early english poetry brought prices so high and far beyond those of ordinary expensive books in the finest condition, that it seemed as if their imperfections were their merit; and the auctioneer, momentarily carried off with this feeling, when the high prices began to sink a little, remonstrated thus, "going so low as thirty shillings, gentlemen,--this curious book--so low as thirty shillings--and _quite imperfect_!"'--j. h. burton. _the book-hunter._ ferriar mentions incidentally most of the famous printers of olden time. aldine editions were those printed by aldo manuzio and his family in venice from to . the elzevir family became famous on account of its duodecimos. p. . _beresford._--_bibliosophia; or book-wisdom_, by the rev. j. beresford, was written as 'a feeling remonstrance against the _prose_ work, lately published by the reverend t. f. dibdin under the title of _bibliomania; or book-madness_', quoted in successive pages. p. . _d'israeli._--the verse is imitated from the latin of 'henry rantzau, a danish gentleman, the founder of the great library at copenhagen, whose days were dissolved in the pleasures of reading', who 'discovers his taste and ardour in the following elegant effusion'. p. . _d'israeli._--'an allusion and pun which occasioned the french translator of the present work an unlucky blunder: puzzled no doubt by my _facetiously_, he translates "mettant comme on l'a _très judicieusement_ fait observer, l'entendement humain sous la clef". the book, and the author alluded to, quite escaped him.'--i. d'israeli. _curiosities of literature: the bibliomania, note._ p. . _dibdin._--magliabechi was born at florence, october , . 'he had never learned to read; and yet he was perpetually poring over the leaves of old books that were used in his master's shop. a bookseller, who lived in the neighbourhood, and who had often observed this, and knew the boy could not read, asked him one day "what he meant by staring so much on printed paper?" magliabechi said that he did not know how it was, but that he loved it of all things. the consequence was that he was received, with tears of joy in his eyes, into the bookseller's shop; and hence rose, by a quick succession, into posts of literary honour, till he became librarian to the grand duke of tuscany.' p. . _longfellow._--bayard taylor, born , died . the allusion is to the famous monument of the emperor maximilian in the franciscan church, or hofkirche, at innsbruck, where a kneeling figure of maximilian is surrounded by statues of his contemporaries and ancestors. the emperor is buried actually at wiener-neustadt. taylor published _prince deukalion: a lyrical drama_, in . p. . _browning._--sibrandus schafnaburgensis 'is apparently', mrs. orr says, without adding to our store of knowledge, 'the name of an old pedant who has written a tiresome book.' p. . _de bury._--j. h. burton, in _the book-hunter_, tells the following story:--it was thomson, i believe, who used to cut the leaves with his snuffers. perhaps an event in his early career may have soured him of the proprieties. it is said that he had an uncle, a clever active mechanic, who could do many things with his hands, and contemplated james's indolent, dreamy, 'feckless' character with impatient disgust. when the first of _the seasons_--_winter_ it was, i believe--had been completed at press, jamie thought, by a presentation copy, to triumph over his uncle's scepticism, and to propitiate his good opinion he had the book handsomely bound. the old man never looked inside, or asked what the book was about, but turning it round and round with his fingers in gratified admiration, exclaimed: 'come, is that really our jamie's doin' now? weel, i never thought the cratur wad hae had the handicraft to do the like!' p. . _h. coleridge._--see roscoe's poem to his books on parting with them, p. . p. . _dibdin._--'there are shrewd books, with dangerous frontispieces set to sale; who shall prohibit them? shall twenty licensers?'--milton. _areopagitica._ p. . _burns._--mr. andrew lang states that burns saw a splendidly bound but sadly neglected copy of shakespeare in the library of a nobleman in edinburgh, and he wrote these lines on the ample margin of one of its pages, where they were found long after the poet's death. p. . _parnell._--'it was supposed that a binding of russian leather secured books against insects, but the contrary was recently demonstrated at paris by two volumes pierced in every direction. the first bookbinder in paris, bozerian, told me he knew of no remedy except to steep the blank leaves in muriatic acid.'--pinkerton's _recollections of paris_. parnell's poem is translated from theodore beza. 'smith was very comical about a remedy of lady holland's for the bookworms in the library at holland house, having the books washed with some mercurial preparation. he said it was sir humphry davy's opinion that the air would become charged with the mercury, and that the whole family would be salivated, adding, "i shall see allen some day, with his tongue hanging out, speechless, and shall take the opportunity to stick a few principles into him."'--_bon-mots_ of sydney smith, edited by w. jerrold. john allen, m.d., was the librarian, described by byron as 'the best informed and one of the ablest men i know--a perfect magliabechi; a devourer, a _heluo_ of books'. his scepticism earned him the title of 'lady holland's atheist'. p. . _king._--this is from j. nichols's collection of poems, vol. iii, _bibliotheca_, and is ascribed 'upon conjecture only' to dr. w. king. _see_ p. . p. . _d'arblay._--macaulay notes that miss burney 'describes this conversation as delightful; and, indeed, we cannot wonder that, with her literary tastes, she should be delighted at hearing in how magnificent a manner the greatest lady in the land encouraged literature'. the conversation took place at windsor in december, . p. . _lamb._--walter pater says of charles lamb: 'he was a true "collector", delighting in the personal finding of a thing, in the colour an old book or print gets for him by the little accidents which attest previous ownership. wither's _emblems_, "that old book and quaint," long-desired, when he finds it at last, he values none the less because a child had coloured the plates with his paints.' p. . _milton._--'the call for books was not in milton's age what it is in the present. to read was not then a general amusement; neither traders, nor often gentlemen, thought themselves disgraced by ignorance. the women had not then aspired to literature nor was every house supplied with a closet of knowledge.'--dr. johnson. p. . _browning._--the statue referred to is that of giovanni delle bande nere, father of cosimo de' medici, in the piazza san lorenzo. the imaginative sienese is ademollo; the 'frail one of the flower' will be recognized as _la dame aux camélias_. browning 'translates' the title-page of his 'find' thus:-- a roman murder-case: position of the entire criminal cause of guido franceschini, nobleman, with certain four the cutthroats in his pay, tried, all five, and found guilty and put to death by heading or hanging as befitted ranks, at rome on february twenty two, since our salvation sixteen ninety eight: wherein it is disputed if, and when, husbands may kill adulterous wives, yet 'scape the customary forfeit.' p. . _eliot._-- i often wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell. e. fitzgerald. _rubaiyát of omar khayyám._ p. . _lewis._--this is a portion of an imitation of horace. _ep._ , bk. i. p. . _gay._--the authorship of this and the following poem cannot be decided definitely, but it is presumed that they were written by gay and pope respectively, and they have been so credited in the text. p. . _lamb._--this appeared originally in _the london magazine_, and was reprinted by hone in _the every-day book_. it was in hone's _table book_ that lamb's extracts from the elizabethan dramatists were published. p. . _goldsmith._--see bacon, on p. , and the note thereon. p. . _scott._--sir walter was the first president of the bannatyne club, and he wrote these lines for the anniversary dinner in . the club had been founded in the previous year with the object of printing works on the history and antiquities of scotland. bannatyne himself, whose name was given to the club, achieved immortality by copying out nearly all the ancient poetry of scotland in , at a time when the country was ravaged by plague, and the records of scottish literature were also in danger of destruction. of the other names mentioned here, ritson had written a vegetarian book. the 'yeditur' was the name given by lord eldon to james sibbald. 'greysteel' was a romance that david herd sought in vain, and it gave him his nickname. p. . _maginn._--sung at the booksellers' annual dinner, blackwall, june , . fraser, whose name lives in his magazine, died in the following year. it is very tempting to give more passages about booksellers but i must refrain as it would be foreign to the purpose of this volume, and the subject has been recently treated with great fullness and greater ability by mr. frank a. mumby in _the romance of bookselling_. p. . _de bury._--'would it not grieve a man of a good spirit to see hobson finde more money in the tayles of jades than a scholler in bookes?'--_the pilgrimage to parnassus._ hobson, the carrier, celebrated by milton, is the hero of 'hobson's choice'. p. . _lamb._--'the motto i proposed for the [_edinburgh_] _review_ was: tenui musam meditamur avena--"we cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal."'--sydney smith. p. . _ruskin._--mark pattison said that nobody who respected himself could have less than , volumes, and that this number of octavo volumes could be stacked in a bookcase feet by feet and inches deep. he complained that the bookseller's bill in the ordinary middle-class family is shamefully small, and he thought it monstrous that a man who is earning £ , a year should spend less than £ a week on books. 'a shilling in the pound to be spent on books,' is lord morley's comment, 'by a clerk who earns a couple of hundred pounds a year, or by a workman who earns a quarter of that sum, is rather more, i think, than can be reasonably expected.' p. . _lamb._--comberbatch was the name in which coleridge enlisted in the dragoons. _the life and opinions of john buncle, esq._, was by thomas amory. leigh hunt describes buncle as 'a kind of innocent henry viii of private life'. charles lamb, who at last grew tired of lending his books, threatened to chain wordsworth's poems to his shelves, adding:--'for of those who borrow, some read slow; some mean to read, but don't read; and some neither read nor mean to read, but borrow to leave you an opinion of their sagacity. i must do my money-borrowing friends the justice to say that there is nothing of this caprice or wantonness of alienation in them. when they borrow my money they never fail to make use of it.'--sir t. n. talfourd. p. . _shakespeare._--also in a later scene of the same play:--'thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used; and, contrary to the king, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. it will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no christian ear can endure to hear.' p. . _wesley._--'next morning he was still better: ... he desired to be drawn into the library, and placed by the central window, that he might look down upon the tweed. here he expressed a wish that i should read to him, and when i asked from what book, he said--"need you ask? there is but one."'--j. g. lockhart. _life of sir walter scott._ 'it is our _duty_ to live among books, especially to live by one book, and a very old one.'--john henry newman in _tracts for the times_. p. . _de vere._--addison speaks of horace and pindar as showing, when confronted with the psalms, 'an absurdity and confusion of style,' and 'a comparative poverty of imagination'. coleridge has left on record his opinion that, 'after reading isaiah or st. paul's epistle to the hebrews, homer and virgil are disgustingly tame to me, and milton himself scarcely tolerable.' milton's own words may be recalled: 'there are no songs comparable to the songs of sion; no orations equal to those of the prophets.' p. . _swift._--compare cowper in _hope_:-- in her own light arrayed, see mercy's grand apocalypse displayed! the sacred book no longer suffers wrong, bound in the fetters of an unknown tongue; but speaks with plainness, art could never mend, what simplest minds can soonest comprehend. macaulay described the bible as 'a book which, if everything else in our language should perish, would alone suffice to show the whole extent of its beauty and power'. p. . _arnold._--wordsworth's opinion was that the prophetic and lyrical parts of the bible formed 'the great storehouse of enthusiastic and meditative imagination'. p. . _faber._--professor huxley wrote in the _contemporary review_, in his famous article on 'the school boards':--'consider the great historical fact that, for three centuries, this book has been woven into the life of all that is best and noblest in english history; that it has become the national epic of britain, and is familiar to noble and simple, from john-o'-groat's house to land's end, as dante and tasso were once to the italians; that it is written in the noblest and purest english, and abounds in exquisite beauties of mere literary form; and, finally, that it forbids the veriest hind who never left his village to be ignorant of the existence of other countries and other civilizations, and of a great past, stretching back to the furthest limits of the oldest nations in the world.' p. . _eliot._--maggie tulliver, during the home troubles caused by her father's bankruptcy, receives a present of books, among which is the _imitation of christ_. p. . _gaskell._--the essay by mrs. gaskell, first published in _household words_ in , was suggested by an article by victor cousin on madame de sablé in the _revue des deux mondes_. madame was a habitual guest at the hôtel rambouillet and friend of the duchess de longueville; her crowning accomplishment was the ability _tenir un salon_. p. . _alcuin._--born at york in , alcuin was the adviser of charlemagne, whose court, under the englishman's direction became a centre of culture. after fifteen years of court life at aix-la-chapelle alcuin retired to tours, where he died in . his english name is given as ealwhine. the catalogue refers to the library of egbert, archbishop of york. the translator is d. mcnicoll. p. . _king._--this is an extract from a poem of , lines preserved in vol. iii of nichols's _poems_, where it is said to be probably by dr. w. king. it first appeared in . see p. . p. . _pope._--for the fate of the bonfire the reader is referred to the _dunciad_ itself. pope explains that 'this library is divided into three parts; the first consists of those authors from whom he (the hero, i.e. colley cibber) stole, and whose works he mangled; the second, of such as fitted the shelves, or were gilded for show, or adorned with pictures; the third class our author calls solid learning, old bodies of divinity, old commentaries, old english printers, or old english translations; all very voluminous, and fit to erect altars to dulness'. tibbald, or theobald, wrote _shakespear restored_; ogilby, poet and printer, is mentioned by addison on p. ; the duchess of newcastle was responsible for eight folios of poetical and philosophical works; settle, the hero's brother laureate 'for the city instead of the court'; banks, his rival in tragedy; broome, 'a serving man of ben jonson'; de lyra or harpsfield, whose five volumes of commentaries in folio were printed in ; philemon holland, 'the translator general of his age'; cibber's birthday ode as laureate. william caxton ( - ), of course, printed, at bruges, the first book printed in english--the _recuyell of the historyes of troye_--in . his printing press in westminster was set up two years later. wynkyn de worde, his servant and successor, started business on his own account in . p. . _sterne._--'sterne has generally concealed the sources of his curious trains of investigation, and uncommon opinions, but in one instance he ventured to break through his restraint by mentioning bouchet's _evening conferences_, among the treasures of mr. shandy's library.... i have great reason to believe that it was in the skelton library some years ago, where i suspect sterne found most of the authors of this class. i entertain little doubt, that from the perusal of this work, sterne conceived the first precise idea of his _tristram_, as far as anything can be called precise, in a desultory book, apparently written with great rapidity.' this quotation is from ferriar's _illustrations of sterne_, which was published in . he seemed, sir walter scott wrote, 'born to trace and detect the various mazes through which sterne carried on his depredations upon ancient and dusty authors.' ferriar wrote the following lines addressed to sterne:-- sterne, for whose sake i plod through miry ways, of antique wit and quibbling mazes drear, let not thy shade malignant censure fear, though aught of borrowed mirth my search betrays. long slept that mirth in dust of ancient days, (erewhile to guise or wanton valois dear;) till waked by thee in skelton's joyous pile, she flung on tristram her capricious rays; but the quick tear that checks our wondering smile, in sudden pause or unexpected story, owns thy true mastery--and le fever's woes, maria's wanderings, and the prisoner's throes, fix thee conspicuous on the throne of glory. p. . _scott._--the modern poet is crabbe, and the context will be found on p. ; thalaba is the name of southey's hero. p. . _montaigne._--in another essay montaigne tells us that his library for a country library could pass for a very fair one. p. . _southey._--this extract is from southey's _sir thomas more_; a book of colloquies between southey himself, under the name of montesinos, and the apparition of sir t. more: who tells him that 'it is your lot, as it was mine, to live during one of the grand climacterics of the world', and that, 'i come to you, rather than to any other person, because you have been led to meditate upon the corresponding changes whereby your age and mine are distinguished, and because ... there are certain points of sympathy and resemblance which bring us into contact.' the colloquies are upon such subjects as the feudal and manufacturing systems, the reformation, prospects of europe, infidelity, trade. chartier was the french poet whose 'eternal glory' it was 'to have announced the mission of jeanne d'arc'. 'here are god's conduits,' &c., is from the first of donne's _satires_. p. . _barton._--the rev. john mitford ( - ) formed a large library at benham, where he also devoted himself to gardening. p. . _bale._--'i was called to london to wait upon the duke of norfolk, who having at my sole request bestowed the arundelian library on the royal society, sent to me to take charge of the books and remove them.... i procured for our society, besides printed books, near mss., some in greek, of great concernment. the printed books being of the oldest impressions are not the less valuable; i esteem them almost equal to mss. amongst them are most of the fathers printed at basle, before the jesuits abused them with their expurgatory indexes; there is a noble ms. of vitruvius. many of these books had been presented by popes, cardinals, and great persons, to the earls of arundel and dukes of norfolk; and the late magnificent earl of arundel bought a noble library in germany, which is in this collection. i should not, for the honour i bear the family, have persuaded the duke to part with these, had i not seen how negligent he was of them, suffering the priests and everybody to carry away and dispose of what they pleased, so that abundance of rare things are irrecoverably gone.'--j. evelyn (_diary_, august , .) p. . _whittier._--sung at the opening of the library at haverhill, mass. p. . _helps._--pope's _essay on man_: if parts allure thee, think how bacon shined, the wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind. the other allusions are to johnson, byron, shelley, and keats. p. . _crabbe._--it is explained by crabbe that while composing 'the library' he 'was honoured with the notice and assisted by the advice of the right honourable edmund burke: part of it was written in his presence, and the whole submitted to his judgement; receiving, in its progress, the benefit of his correction'. the poem was published in . p. . _saxe._--aristophanes' _the clouds_, ridiculing socrates. p. . _drummond._--of sir thomas bodley old anthony wood says: 'though no writer, worth the remembrance, yet hath he been the greatest promoter of learning that hath yet appeared in our nation.' it may be recalled that r. de bury had a fine idea, although it did not fructify, to wit:--'we have for a long time held a rooted purpose in the inmost recesses of our mind, looking forward to a favourable time and divine aid, to found, in perpetual alms, and enrich with the necessary gifts, a certain hall in the revered university of oxford, the first nurse of all the liberal arts; and further to enrich the same, when occupied by numerous scholars, with deposits of our books, so that the books themselves and every one of them may be made common as to use and study, not only to the scholars of the said hall, but through them to all the students of the aforesaid university for ever.' p. . _cowper._--'this ode,' cowper states, 'is rendered without rhime, that it might more adequately represent the original, which, as milton himself informs us, is of no certain measure. it may possibly for this reason disappoint the reader, though it cost the writer more labour than the translation of any other piece in the whole collection.' p. . _cowley._-- who now reads cowley? if he pleases yet, his moral pleases, not his pointed wit. forgot his epic, nay, pindaric art! but still i love the language of his heart.--pope. p. . _j. m._--it cannot escape observation that bodley and his library has been a much more fruitful theme than the university of cambridge. this is the only poem on the latter subject which i have been able to find; it is quoted in edwards's _memoirs of libraries_. leigh hunt has related his experiences in the library of trinity college 'when the keeper of it was from home'; see p. . p. . _whitelocke._--the authorship of this fine testimony is attributed to whitelocke, but i have not traced it, by j. k. hoyt and anna l. ward. index of authors mentioned, alluded to, or quoted in the text and notes abelard, , . accius, . addison, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . aelian, , . aeschylus, , , , . aëtius, . agrippa, cornelius, . akenside, . alcott, . alcuin, , . alison, . allestree, , . alphonsus (alonso), of aragon, , , , , . amory, , . anacreon, , , , . andrewes, . antimachus, . aquinas, st. thomas, , , , . arblay d', , , , , . ariosto, , , , . aristophanes, , , , , , , , . aristotle, , , , , , , , , , , , . armstrong, . arnobius, . arnold, m., , , , . arnold, t., . arvine, . ascham, , , , , , . augustine, st., , , , , . aurelius, marcus, , . austen, jane, , . avicenna, . aylmer, . bacon, francis, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . bailey, n., . bailey, p. j., . baker, , . bale, . banks, , . barclay, , . barnes, . barros, , . barrow, . barton, . baxter, , , , , . bayle, , , . bayly, . beaconsfield. _see_ disraeli. beattie, . beaumont, . beaumont and fletcher, , , , , , . bede, , . beecher, . bellarmine, , , . benlowe, . bentley, , . beresford, , , . bettinelli, , . beza, , , . birrell, , . blackie, . blackmore, . blanchard, , . blount, . blundeville, . boccaccio, , , . boerhaave, . boileau, , . bonaventura, . boston, . boswell, , , , , , , . bouchet, , , . boyle, . brant, , . brontë, c., . brooke, lord. _see_ greville. broome, , , . browne, sir t., , , , , , , , , . browne, sir w., , . browning, e. b., , , , , , , . browning, r., , , . bruce, . bruscambille, . brydges, g., lord chandos, , . buchanan, . buckingham. _see_ sheffield. bulwer. _see_ lytton. bunyan, , , , , , , , , . burke, , , , , , . burns, , , , , . burton, j. h., , , , , . burton, r., , , , , , , , , , , , , . bury, r. de, , , , , , , . butler, j., , , , . butler, s., , , . butler, s., . byron, , , , , , , , , , , , , . caesar, , , . calprenède, la, , , . calverley, , . camden, . campbell, . campion, . cardan, . cardwell, . carlyle, , , , , , , , . cary, . castanheda, , . catullus , . cervantes, , , , , , , , , , , , , . chandos. _see_ brydges. channing, , , , . chapman, , , , . chapone, , . charles (king), , . charron, . chartier, , . chaucer, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . chesterfield. _see_ stanhope. chesterton, . chrysostom, st., . churchill, . churchyard, . cibber, , , . cicero, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . clarendon, , . cobbett, , , . cokain (cokayne), . coke, , . coleridge, h., . coleridge, s. t., , , , , , , , , , , , . collier, , . colman, . colton, , , , , . comines, . congreve, . cook, eliza, . corderius, . cornwall, barry. _see_ procter. coryat, . cotton, . courthope, . cousin, . cowley, , , , , , , , . cowper, , , , , , , . coxe, . crabbe, , , , , , , , . crashaw, , , , . crébillon, . cross, mary ann. _see_ eliot. culpepper, . cureton, . curll, . cyprian, . dalton, . daniel, , , , , . dante, , , , , , , . davenant, . davies, . davila, . davy, , , . dawson, , . debrett, . defoe, , , , , , , . de lyra, , . democritus, . demosthenes, . denham, , . dennis, . de quincey, , , . descartes, . despreaux, . d'estrades, . dibdin, , , , , . dickens, , , , . digby, , . dillingham, . dillon, w., earl of roscommon, . dion cassius, . disraeli, b., earl of beaconsfield, , , . d'israeli, i., , , , , . dobson, . dodd, , . doddridge, , . dodson, . donne, , , , , , . dovaston, . drayton, , . drinkwater, . drummond, , , , . dryden, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . du bartas, . du bellay, . dudley, earl of. _see_ ward. dumas, , . dunton, . d'urfé, . d'urfey, , , . dyer, . ealwhine. _see_ alcuin. earle, , , , , . edgeworth, maria, , , . edwards, . eliot, george, , , , . elliott, . emerson, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . enfield, . ennius, , . epictetus, , . erasmus, , , , , . ernesti, . euclid, , , . euripides, . evelyn, . faber, , . fabricius, , . farquhar, , . felix, m., . ferriar, , , . fielding, h., , , , , , , , , , , . fielding, r., , . fields, , . fitzgerald, e., , . fitzgerald, lord e., . fitzmaurice-kelly, . fletcher, g., , . fletcher, j., , , . _see also_ beaumont and fletcher. fletcher, p., . florio, . foote, . fordyce, , . forster, . foster, , , , . fox, , . foxe, , . francis, . franklin, . frascatorius, . froissart, , . frost, , . fuller, , , , , , . galen, , . garnett, . garrick, , . garth, , . gaskell, , . gassendi, . gay, , , , , , , , , . gaye, . geber, . gibbon, , , , , , , , . giles, . gilfillan, . gilpin, . gissing, , . glanvill, , , , . glover, . godwin, , . goethe, , , , . goldsmith, , , , , , , , , , , . goodyer, , . gower, , . granville, . gratia, . gray, , , , , . greene, . greville, , . guiccardini, . hafiz, . hailes, lord, . hale, . hales, . hall, john, , . hall, joseph, , , , . haller, . hamilton, . hare, a. w. and j. c., , , , , , . harington, . harper, . harpsfield, , . harrison, . harvey, , . hazlitt, , , , , , , , , , , , . hedericus, . helps, , . helvicus, . hemans, . herbert, g., , , , . herd, , . herodotus, , , . herrick, , , , , , . herschel, , . hervey, . hesiod, . hilarius, . hill, . hill, birkbeck, . hippocrates, , , . hobbes, , , . hoffmann, . hogg, , . holland, , . holmes, , , , , , , , , , , . home, . homer, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . hone, . hood, , . hookham, . horace, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . horne, , . howard, h., earl of surrey, . howell, , , . howitt, . hoyle, , . hughes, . hugo, . hume, , , , , . hunt, leigh, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . huxley, . hyperius, . inglis, . irving, . isocrates, , . jackson, . jago, . jefferies, , . jenyns, . jerome, st., , , , , . jerrold, d., . jerrold, w., . jervas, . johnson, l., , . johnson, s., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . jonson, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . josephus, , . julian, . jusserand, . juvenal, , , . keats, , , , . keble, . keddie, . kempis, , . killigrew, . king, , , , . kingsley, , , . knight, . kotzebue, . kyd, . lactantius, . la ferte, . la fontaine, . lamb, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . landor, , , , , , , , , , . lang, . lardner, . law, , . lee, , , . leighton, . le sage, , . leslie, , . l'estrange, . lewis, , . lingard, . livy, , . lobeira, , , , . locke, , , , , , , , , , . locker-lampson, . lockhart, , . longfellow, , , , , . lorenzini, . lovelace, . lowe, r., ld. sherbrooke, . lowell, , , . lucan, , , , , . lucilius, . lucretius, , . lully, , . luther, , , . lyly, , , . lysias, . lytton, , , , , , , , , , , , . m., j., . macaulay, , , , , , , , , , , , . maccreery, . macdonald, . mackenzie, . macpherson, . maginn, . magliabechi, , , , . maimon, . malebranche, . mallet, , . malone, , . malory, . mamurra, , . mancini, . manley, mary, , . mariana, . marivaux, . marlowe, . martial, , . martineau, h., . marvell, , , . massinger, , . masson, . mather, , . maurice, , , , . mcnicoll, . mede, . meleager, . menander, . meredith, . messala, . michaelis, . mickle, . middleton, . midwinter, . migne, . mill, . milman, . milton, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . mirandola, . mitford, , . molière, , , . montagu, . montaigne, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . montalvo, . montesquieu, . montgomery, . moore, , , , , . more, hannah, , , . more, sir t., , , , . moreri, . morley, lord, , , . motteux, . müller, . mumby, , . musaeus, . newcastle, duchess of, , , , , . newman, , . newton, , . nichols, , . nicolson, . norris, . norton, caroline, . norton, j., . norton, j. b., . ogilby, , , , . ogle, . o'keefe, . oldham, . olivet, . orford. _see_ walpole. oribasius, . orpheus of thrace, . orr, mrs. s., . ortelius, . osorio, , . overbury, . ovid, , , , , , , , , , . paccuvius, . paley, . papinian, . paracelsus, , , , . paraeus, . parnell, , , . parrot, . parsons, . pascal, . pasquin, . pastorini, . pater, , . patmore, , . pattison, , . payn, , . paynter, . peacham, , . peacock, . peignot, . pembroke, , . penn, . percy, . persius, . petrarch, , , , , , . petronius arbiter, . philips, . pindar, , , , , . pineda, , . pinkerton, , , . piozzi, mrs., . plato, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . plautus, , , , , . pliny, , , . plutarch, , , , , , . pollock, . polydore, . pope, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . praed, . pregnitz, , . prideaux, . prior, , , , , , . proclus, , . procter, a. a., . procter, b. w., . propertius, . prynne, . ptolemy, . pulci, . pye, . quarles, , . quintilian, , . rabelais, , , , , , , , . racine, . radcliffe, ann, . raleigh, . ramsay, . rantzau, . rawlinson, . regiomontanus, . reid, . richardson, , , , , , , . ritson, , . rive, . robertson, f. w., , . robertson, w., , . rochefoucauld, . rochester. _see_ wilmot. rogers, , , . roscoe, , . roscommon. _see_ dillon. rosenmuller, . ross, . rossi, . rousseau, . rowe, . ruskin, , , , , , , . sacheverell, . saintsbury, . sallust, . sannazarius, . sappho, , . savage, . saxe, . scaliger, . schiller, , . schoettgenius, . scott, michael, . scott, sir w., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . scotus, . scroderus, . scudéry, . selden, , , , . seneca, , , , , , , , , , , . settle, , . sewell, . shadwell, . shaftesbury, . shakespeare, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . sheffield, , . shelley, , , , , , , , . sherbrooke. _see_ lowe. sheridan, c., . sheridan, r. b., , , , , . sheridan, t., , . sherlock, , . shirley, , , . sibbald, , . siddons, mrs., . sidney, , , , , , , , . silius italicus, . skelton, . slawkenbergius, . smith, adam, , . smith, alex., , . smith, s., , , , , , . smollett, , , , , , , , . socrates, , . sophocles, , . sotherne, , . . south, , , , , , . southey, , , , , , , , , , , , . spencer, . spenser, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . spinoza, , . spizelius, . sprat, . staël, de, mme., . stanhope, , , , , , . steele, , , , , , . stephen, . sterne, , , , , , , , , , , . stevenson, , . stirling-maxwell. _see_ norton, c. stockdale, . stoddard, . sturm, . suckling, , , . surrey, e. of. _see_ howard. swift, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . sydenham, . sylvester, . symonds, , . tacitus, . talfourd, . tasso, , , . tate, . taylor, bayard, , . taylor, , , , , . taylor, j., , , , . temple, , , , , , , . tennyson, , , , . terence, , , , . teresa, st., . thackeray, , , , , . theocritus, , . theophrastus, , . thomas, e. c, . thomson, j., , , , , . thomson, r., . thurloe, . tibbald (theobald), , . tibullus, . tickle, , , . tillotson, , . tooke, , . trapp, , . trench, . tully. _see_ cicero. tupper, , . turner, . urquhart, . valcarenghus, . varro, , . vaughan, , , , . verburgius, . vere, , . verulam. _see_ bacon. victorinus, . virgil, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . vitruvius, , . voltaire, , , , , , , , . vossius, . walker, . wall, . waller, , , , , , . walpole, , , , , , . walton, , . warburton, . ward, . ward, j. w., . warton, . watts, . webster, , . welsted, . wesley, , . west, . west, a. s., . white, g., . whitelocke, , . whittier, , , , . wierus, . wilkins, . wilmot, , . wilson, , . wingate, . wirgmann, . wither, , , , , . wolff, . wood, . wollstonecraft, m., . wordsworth, , , , , , , , , , , , , . wotton, . wyatt, . xenophon, , , . young, , . zimmerman, . the printed book, its history, illustration, and adornment, _from the days of gutenberg to the present time._ by henri bouchot, of the national library, paris. _translated and enlarged by_ edward c. bigmore. with one hundred and eighteen illustrations of facsimiles of early typography, printers' marks, copies of book illustrations, and specimens of bindings of all ages. new york: scribner and welford, and , broadway. . preface. considering that this short study can claim to be nothing more than a rapid and somewhat summary survey of the history of the book, it eschews all controversial matter, nor does it pretend to convey much fresh information to those already possessing a special knowledge of the subject. it is rather a condensed, but at the same time, it may be hoped, a useful, compendium of the thousand unknown or now forgotten essays, involving endless contradictory statements, that have been issued on this theme. the mere enumeration of such works would simply suffice to fill a volume. we have accordingly no intention to attempt a bibliography, satisfying ourselves with the modest avowal of having found so many documents in all languages, that the very abundance has been at least as embarrassing to us as the lack of materials may have been to others. the book appealing in its present form to a special public interested more in artistic than in purely typographical topics, our attention has been more particularly given to the illustrators, the designers, engravers, etchers, and so forth. such graphic embellishment seemed to us of more weight than the manufacture of the paper, the type-casting, the printing properly so called. this technical aspect of the subject has been very briefly dealt with in a separate chapter, and has also been enlarged upon in the early section. to the binding also we have devoted only a single chapter, while fully conscious that a whole volume would not have sufficed merely to treat the subject superficially. at the same time, we would not have the reader conclude from all this that our book abounds in omissions, or has overlooked any important features. the broad lines, we trust, have been adhered to, while each section has been so handled as to give a fair idea of the epoch it deals with. this is the first attempt to comprise within such narrow limits an art and an industry with a life of over four centuries, essaying to describe its beginnings and its history down to our days, without omitting a glance at the allied arts. the engravings selected for illustration have, as far as possible, been taken from unedited materials, and have been directly reproduced by mechanical processes, while fifteen new illustrations, having special relation to the history of the book in england, have been added to this edition, which is also considerably enlarged in the text on the same subject. contents. chapter i. page .. to origin of the book--engravers in relief--the st. christopher of --origin of the xylographs--the xylographs, _donatus_, and _speculum_--the laurent coster legend--from block books to movable characters--john gaensefleisch, called gutenberg--the strasbourg trial--gutenberg at mayence--fust and schoeffer--the letters of indulgence--the bible--the "catholicon"--the mayence bible--causes of the dispersion of the first mayence printers--general considerations. chapter ii. to the book and the printers of the second generation--the german workmen dispersed through europe--caxton and the introduction of printing into england--nicholas jenson and his supposed mission to mayence--the first printing in paris; william fichet and john heinlein--the first french printers; their installation at the sorbonne and their publications--the movement in france--the illustration of the book commenced in italy--the book in italy; engraving in relief and metal plates--the book in germany: cologne, nuremberg, basle--the book in the low countries--french schools of ornament of the book; books of hours; booksellers at the end of the fifteenth century--literary taste in titles in france at the end of the fifteenth century--printers and booksellers' marks--the appearance of the portrait in the book--progress in england--caxton and his followers. chapter iii. to french epics and the renaissance--venice and aldus manutius--italian illustrators--the germans; _theuerdanck_, schäufelein--the book in other countries--french books at the beginning of the century, before the accession of francis i.--geoffroy tory and his works--francis i. and the book--robert estienne--lyons a centre of bookselling; holbein's dances of death--school of basle--alciati's emblems and the illustrated books of the middle of the century--the school of fontainebleau and its influence--solomon bernard--cornelis de la haye and the _promptuaire_--john cousin--copper plate engraving and metal plates--woériot--the portrait in the book of the sixteenth century--how a book was illustrated on wood at the end of the century--influence of plantin on the book; his school of engravers--general considerations--progress in england--coverdale's bible--english printers and their work--engraved plates in english books. chapter iv. to tendencies of the regency of marie de medicis--thomas de leu and leonard gaultier--j. picart and claude mellan--lyons and j. de fornazeris--the book at the beginning of the seventeenth century in germany, italy, and holland--crispin pass in france--the elzevirs and their work in holland--sebastian cramoisy and the imprimerie royale--illustration with callot, della bella, and abraham bosse--the publishers and the hotel de rambouillet--the reign of louis xiv.; antoine vitré syndic at his accession--his works and mortifications; the polyglot bible of le jay--art and illustrators of the grand century--sébastien leclerc, lepautre, and chauveau--leclerc preparing the illustration and decoration of the book for the eighteenth century--the book in england in the seventeenth century. chapter v. the book in the eighteenth century the regency--publishers at the beginning of the eighteenth century--illustrators in france; gillot--the school of watteau and boucher--cars--the younger cochin; his principal works in vignettes--french art in england; gravelot--eisen--choffard--the _baisers_ of dorat; the _contes_ of la fontaine--the publisher cazin and the special literature of the eighteenth century--the younger moreau and his illustrations--the revolution--the school of david--duplessis-bertaux--the book in germany; chodowiecki--in england; boydell and french artists--caslon and baskerville--english books with illustrations--wood engraving in the eighteenth century; the papillons--printing offices in the eighteenth century. chapter vi. the book in the nineteenth century the didots and their improvements--the folio racine--the school of didot--fine publications in england and germany--literature and art of the restoration--romanticism--wood engraving--bewick's pupils, clennell, etc.--the illustrators of romances--the generation of --the book in our days in europe and america. chapter vii. types, impression, paper, ink chapter viii. bookbinding the binding of the first printed books--ancient german bindings--binding in the time of louis xii.--italian bindings--aldus--maioli--grolier--francis i.--henry ii. and diane de poitiers--catherine de medicis--henry iii.--the eves--the "fanfares"--louis xiii.--le gascon--florimond badier--louis xiv.--morocco leathers--cramoisy--the bindings of the time of louis xiv.--the regency--pasdeloup--the deromes--dubuisson--thouvenin--lesné--the nineteenth century--english binders--roger payne--francis bedford. chapter ix. libraries index the printed book. chapter i. .. to . origin of the book--engravers in relief--the st. christopher of --origin of the xylographs--the xylographs, _donatus_, and _speculum_--the laurent coster legend--from block books to movable characters--john gaensefleisch, called gutenberg--the strasbourg trial--gutenberg at mayence--fust and schoeffer--the letters of indulgence--the bible--the catholicon--the mayence bible--causes of the dispersion of the first mayence printers--general considerations. like its forerunner, painting, the book has ever been the most faithful reflection of the times when it was written and illustrated. natural and genuine from the first, and simply embellished with crude illustrations, it assumed in the sixteenth century the grand airs of the renaissance, gay or serious according to circumstances, decked in what were then called _histoires_--that is to say, wonderful engravings--and daintily printed in gothic, roman, or choice italic characters. but at the close of the century it had already abandoned _wood_ for line engravings, heightening its mysticism or its satire at the whim of passing politics and religious wranglings. then, under the influence of the painters and courtiers of the _grand monarque_, it becomes completely transformed, donning the peruke, so to speak, indulging in allegory and conventionalities, pompous and showy, tricking itself out in columns and pilasters instead of the old arabesques and scroll work of the renaissance, thus continuing amid the coquetries of the regency, the pastorals and insipidities of the following reigns, until at last it suddenly assumes with the heroes of the revolution the austere mien and airs of classic art. the book has always been as closely connected with the manners of our predecessors as art itself. the artist submits more than he thinks to the tendency of his surroundings; and if he at times makes his taste appreciated, it is because he has more or less received his first influence from others. in the sixteenth century the fashion of emblematic representation placed under the portrait of gaston de foix a figure of a young plant in full bloom; and the inscription in latin was "nascendo maturus"--"mature at birth." the book deserves the same device; from its first day up to now it is a marvel of simplicity and harmony. the tentative efforts which preceded the discovery of printing were but few; it may be said that from the moment that gutenberg conceived the idea of separating the characters, of arranging the words in the forme, of inking them, and of taking a proof on paper, the book was perfect. at best we see in following times some modifications of detail; the art of printing was mature, mature from its birth. but before arriving at the movable type placed side by side, and forming phrases, which appears to us to-day so simple and so ordinary, many years passed. it is certain that long before gutenberg a means was found of cutting wood and metal in relief and reproducing by application the image traced. signs-manual and seals were a kind of printing, inasmuch as the relief of their engraving is impressed upon a sheet by the hand. but between this simple statement and the uncritical histories of certain special writers, attributing the invention of engraving to the fourteenth century, there is all the distance of legendary history. remembering that the numerous guilds of _tailleurs d'images_, or sculptors in relief, had in the middle ages the specialty of carving ivories and of placing effigies on tombs, it can be admitted without much difficulty, that these people one day found a means of multiplying the sketches of a figure often asked for, by modelling its contour in relief on ivory or wood, and afterwards taking a reproduction on paper or parchment by means of pressure. when and where was this discovery produced? we cannot possibly say; but it is certain that playing cards were produced by this means, and that from the year popular figures were cut in wood, as we know from the st. christopher of that date belonging to lord spencer. it is not our task to discuss this question at length, nor to decide if at first these reliefs were obtained on wood or metal. it is a recognised fact that the single sheet with a printed figure preceded the xylographic book in which text and illustration were cut in the same block. this process did not appear much before the second quarter of the fifteenth century, and it was employed principally for popular works which were then the universal taste. the engraving also was nothing more than a kind of imposition palmed off as a manuscript; the vignettes were often covered with brilliant colours and gold, and the whole sold as of the best quality. the first attempts at these little figures in relief discovered by the image-makers and diffused by the makers of playing cards were but indifferent. the drawing and the cutting were equally unskilful, as may be seen in the facsimiles given by m. h. delaborde in his _histoire de la gravure_. an attempt had been made to put some text at the foot of the st. christopher of , and the idea of giving more importance to the text was to the advantage of the booksellers. at the mercy of the writers who fleeced them, obliged to recoup themselves by the exaggerated prices of the most ordinary books, they hoped to turn engraving to account in order to obtain on better terms the technical work needed for their trade. at the epoch of the st. christopher, in , several works were in vogue in the universities, the schools, and with the public. among the first of these was the latin syntax of Ælius donatus on the eight parts of speech, a kind of grammar for the use of young students, as well as the famous _speculum_, a collection of precepts addressed to the faithful, which were copied and recopied without satisfying the demand. [illustration: fig. .--part of a _donatus_ taken from a xylograph, the original of which is preserved in the bibliothèque nationale.] to find a means of multiplying these treatises at little cost was a fortune to the inventor. it is to be supposed that many artisans of the time attempted it; and without doubt it was the booksellers themselves, mostly mere dealers, who were tempted to the adventure by the sculptors and wood-cutters. but none had yet been so bold as to cut in relief a series of blocks with engravings and text to compose a complete work. that point was reached very quickly when some legend was engraved at the foot of a vignette, and it may be thought that the _donatus_ was the most ancient of books so obtained among the "incunabuli," as we now call them, a word that signifies origin or cradle. the first books then were formed of sheets of paper or parchment, laboriously printed from xylographic blocks, that is to say wooden blocks on which a _tailleur d'images_ had left in relief the designs and the letters of the text. he had thus to trace his characters in reverse, so that they could be reproduced as written; he had to avoid faults, because a phrase once done, well or ill, lasted. it was doubtless this difficulty of correction that gave the idea of movable types. if the cutter seriously erred, it was necessary to cancel altogether the faulty block. this at least explains the legend of laurent coster, of haarlem, who, according to hadrian junius, his compatriot, discovered by accident the secret of separate types while playing with his children. and if the legend of which we speak contains the least truth, it must be found in the sense above indicated, that is in the correction of faults, rather than in the innocent game of a merchant of haarlem. however, we shall have occasion to return to the subject of these remarks. it should be well established that engraving in relief on wood alone gave the idea of making xylographic blocks and of composing books. movable type, the capital point of printing, the pivot of the art of the book, developed itself little by little, according to needs, when there was occasion to correct an erroneous inscription; but, in any case, its origin is unknown. doubtless to vary the text, means were found to replace entire phrases by other phrases, preserving the original figures; and thus the light dawned upon these craftsmen, occupied in the manufacture and sale of their books. according to hadrian junius, laurent janszoon coster (the latter name signifying "the discoverer") published one of the celebrated series of works under the general title of _speculum_ which was then so popular (the mystic style exercising so great an attraction on the people of the fifteenth century), the _speculum humanæ salvationis_. written before the middle of the fifteenth century, made popular by manuscripts, in spite of its fantastic latinity and of its false quantities, this ascetic and crude poem was easy of access to the xylographists. junius, as we see, attributes to laurent coster the first impression of the _speculum_, no longer the purely xylographic impression of the _donatus_ from an engraved block, but that of the more advanced manner in movable types. in point of fact, this book had at least four editions, similar in engravings and body of letters, but of different text. it must then be admitted that the fount was dispersed, and typography discovered, because the same cast of letters could not be adapted to different languages. on the other hand, the vignettes do not change, indicating sufficiently the mobility of the types. in comparison to what may be seen in later works, the illustrations of the _speculum_ are by no means bad; they have the appearance, at once naïve and picturesque, of the works of van eyck, and not at all of the style of the german miniaturists; properly illuminated and gilded, they lent themselves to the illusion of being confounded with the _histoyres_, drawn by the hand, and this is what the publisher probably sought. all the xylographic works of the fifteenth century may be classed in two categories: the xylographs, rightly so called, or the block books, such as the _donatus_, and the books with movable types, like the _speculum_, of which we speak. this mystic and simple literature of pious works for the use of people of modest resources found in printing the means of more rapid reproduction. then appeared the _biblia pauperum_, one of the most celebrated and the most often reproduced, and the _ars moriendi_, a kind of dialogue between an angel and a devil at the bedside of a dying person, which, inspired no doubt by older manuscripts, retained for a long time in successive editions the first tradition of its designs. on labels displayed among the figures are found inscribed the dialogue of the demons and angels seeking to attach to themselves the departing soul, the temptations of satan on the subject of faith, and the responses of the angel on the same subject. [illustration: fig. .--xylographic figure from the _ars moriendi_, copied in reverse in the _art au morier_.] we can see what developments this theme could lend to the mysticism of the fifteenth century. composed in eleven designs, the _ars moriendi_ ran up to eight different editions. from the middle to the end of the fifteenth century, the text was in latin, then in french, under the title _l'art au morier_. in the french edition will be found the blocks that served for the second impression of the work. about , more than fifty years after the first essays, the _ars moriendi_ enjoyed so much vogue that it employed all the resources of typography as much as in its earliest days. the original subjects, copied in a very mediocre manner, adorned the text, which was composed in gothic letters, with a new and more explicit title: _tractatus brevis ac valde utilis de arte et scientia bene moriendi_ ( to, s.l.n.d.), but the order is inverted, figure of the xylograph becoming no. of the edition of . the _ars memorandi_, another xylographic work, of which the subject, taken from the new testament, was equally well adapted to the imagination of the artists, had also a glorious destiny. the work originally comprised thirty blocks, the fifteen blocks of text facing the fifteen engravings. the designs represented the attributes of each of the evangelists, with allegories and explanatory legends. thus, in that which relates to the apostle matthew, no. represents the birth and genealogy of jesus christ, no. the offerings of the magi, no. the baptism of st. john, no. the temptation of christ, no. the sermon on the mount, no. the parable of the birds. the angel that supports the whole is the emblem of st. matthew the evangelist. [illustration: fig. .--figure of the school of martin schongauer, taken from the _rationarium evangelistarum_ of , and copied from the corresponding plate of the _ars memorandi_.] this mnemonic treatment of the gospels began with symbols of which we have no means of finding the origin, but which without doubt were employed many centuries earlier. however that may be, their success was as great as that of the already-quoted works. in a german publisher put forth an imitation, under the title of _rationarium evangelistarum_; and this time the copier of the illustrations, retaining the tradition of the first xylographers, no less reveals an artist of the first order, at least a pupil of martin schongauer. some of the conceptions of the _rationarium_ recall exactly the engravings of the great german master, among others that of the infant jesus (plate ), which nearly approaches the style of the infant jesus of schongauer; besides, the principal figures leave but little doubt on the subject. the same wings are on the angels and on the eagles, the same coiffures on the human characters, often the same attitudes. from the preceding can be judged the extraordinary favour these productions enjoyed. from their origin they were diffused through the whole of europe, and attracted the attention of excellent artists. nevertheless their beginnings were difficult. the movable types used, cut separately in wood, were not constituted to give an ideal impression. we can understand the cost that the execution of these characters must have occasioned, made as they were one by one without the possibility of ever making them perfectly uniform. progress was to substitute for this irregular process types that were similar, identical, easily produced, and used for a long time without breaking. following on the essays of laurent coster, continuous researches bore on this point; but as the invention was said to be his, and it being of importance to him not to divulge it, so that he should not lose his profit, much time was lost over it in his workshop without much success. here history is somewhat confused. hadrian junius positively accuses one of laurent coster's workmen of having stolen the secrets of his master and taken flight to mayence, where he afterwards founded a printing office. according to junius, the metal type was the discovery of the dutchman, and the name of the thief was john. who was this john? was it john gaensefleisch, called gutenberg, or possibly john fust? but it is not at all apparent that gutenberg, a gentleman of mayence, exiled from his country, was ever in the service of the dutch inventor. as to fust, we believe his only intervention in the association of printers of mayence was as a money-lender, from which may be comprehended the unlikelihood of his having been with coster, the more so as we find gutenberg retired to strasbourg, where he pursued his researches. there he was, as it were, out of his sphere, a ruined noble whose great knowledge was bent entirely on invention. doubtless, like many others, he may have had in his hands one of the printed works of laurent coster, and conceived the idea of appropriating the infant process. in he was associated with two artisans of the city of strasbourg, ostensibly in the fabrication of mirrors, which may be otherwise understood as printing of _speculums_, the latin word signifying the same thing. these men needed to surround themselves with precautions; printing was as yet only a practical means of multiplying manuscripts, to impose a little on the innocent, and fortune awaited him who, without saying anything, made this invention serve him. the following will prove this, as well as its tendency. a legal document discovered in by wencker and schoepflin in the pfennigthurm of strasbourg, and afterwards translated into french by m. leon de laborde, makes us at length acquainted with the work of gutenberg and of his associates andrew dritzehen and andrew heilmann. apparently these three men were, as we have said, _spiegelmacher_, that is makers of mirrors. they had jointly entered into a deed by the terms of which, if one of the partners died in the course of their researches, his heirs would have no rights beyond an indemnity corresponding to the amount invested by him. it happened that andrew dritzehen did die, and that one of his brothers aspired to occupy his place in the partnership. the dead man left debts behind him; he had squandered his florins by hundreds in his experiments. gutenberg having offered to pay the amounts expended, the heirs of dritzehen, who wanted more, summoned him before the courts to show why he should not make place for them in the work of experiments and making of mirrors. the witnesses in their testimony before the court told what they knew of the inventions of the partnership. one among them deposed that after the death of dritzehen, gutenberg's servant went to the workshop and begged nicholas dritzehen, brother of the deceased, to displace and break up four formes placed in a press. a second testified that the works of andrew had cost him at the least three hundred florins, an enormous sum for those days. other witnesses painted gutenberg in a curious light: they made him out to be a savage, a hermit, who concealed from his associates certain arts of which the deed stipulated nothing. one fact proved that the experiments referred to the manufacture of metallic characters. a goldsmith, named dünne, maintained that he had received more than a hundred florins for printing material "das zu dem trucken gehoret." "trucken!"--"typography!" the word was found, and from that day usage has consecrated it. before , then, john gaensefleisch, or gutenberg, was devoted to the art of reproduction of texts, and had consecrated his life and feeble resources to it. three problems presented themselves to him. he wanted types less fragile than wooden types and less costly than engraving. he wanted a press by the aid of which he could obtain a clear impression on parchment or paper. he desired also that the leaves of his books should not be anopistograph, or printed only on one side. there were many unknown things to vex his soul, of which he himself alone could have a presentiment. until then, and even long after, the xylographs were printed _au frotton_ or with a brush, rubbing the paper upon the forme coated with ink, thicker than ordinary ink. he dreamed of something better. in the course of his work john gutenberg returned to mayence. the idea of publishing a bible, the book of books, had taken possession of his heart. the _spiegelmacher_ of strasbourg was on the road to loss. the cutting of his types had ruined him, and on his arrival in his native town, his stock in trade, transported by him, was of no great weight: some boxes of type, an inconvenient forme, and perhaps an ordinary press, a wine-maker's press, with a wooden screw. the idea of using this unwieldy instrument for the impression of his formes had already occurred to him; but would not the _frotton_ serve still better? the force of the blow from the bar would break the miserable type, the raised parts of which could not resist the repeated strokes. in this unhappy situation, gutenberg made the acquaintance of a financier of mayence, named fust, who was in search of a business, and who put a sum of eleven hundred florins at his disposal to continue his experiments. unfortunately this money disappeared, it melted away, and the results obtained were absolutely ludicrous. it is certain that john fust did not enter on the engagement without protecting himself. from the first he bound his debtor in a contract for six per cent. interest, besides a share in the profits. in addition he stipulated repayment in case of failure. gutenberg, improvident, as is the way of inventors, had signed away all that he possessed to procure funds. it is presumed, besides, that during the continuance of his investigations, he composed some current books with the resources at his disposal, that served a little to lighten his debts. but the printing house of the zum jungen at mayence was far from shining in the world, because the association of fust concerned itself only with the publication of a bible, and not at all with the _speculums_ and _donatuses_ that were so much in vogue at this time. besides, the money-lender made a point of pressing his debtor, and did not allow him any leisure to labour outside the projected work. about this time a third actor enters on the scene. peter schoeffer, of gernsheim, a writer, introduced into the workshop of gutenberg to design letters, benefited by the abortive experiments, and taking up the invention at its deadlock, conducted it to success. john of tritenheim, called trithemius, the learned abbot of spanheim, is the person who relates these facts; but as he got his information from schoeffer himself, too much credence must not be given to his statements. besides, schoeffer was not at all an ordinary artisan. if we credit a strasbourg manuscript written by his hand in , he was a student of the "most glorious university of paris." in the workshop of gutenberg, his industrious and inventive intellect found a fecund mine, and this caligraphist dreamt of other things than shaping letters for the use of wood engravers. gutenberg, arrested in his career by the wants of life, the worries of business, and perhaps also the fatigues of his labours, may have let the new-comer know something of his experiences. one cannot know, but it is certain that, shortly after, john fust was so fascinated by schoeffer, so attracted by his youth and his application, that he resolved to put new capital into the business. he did more: to permanently attach him, he gave him his grand-daughter in marriage, not his daughter, as was thought until m. auguste bernard rectified this mistake. we have now come to , the year preceding the first dated monument of printing in movable types: _the letters of indulgence_. it may be acknowledged that the sudden affection of fust for his workman depended on some interested motive, and not at all on attraction of the heart. had this former student of the university of paris found the means of rapidly founding metallic types, the search for which had cost gutenberg many sleepless nights? had he completed it by applying to it the matrix and punch which had then and for centuries served the makers of seals and the money-coiners? perhaps, as was most probable, the two associates had agreed, and putting their experiences together, had conquered hitherto insurmountable difficulties. the year witnessed the diffusion throughout christendom of letters of indulgence, accorded by pope nicholas v., who wished to aid in funds the king of cyprus against the turks. these circular letters, scattered by thousands to every corner of the world, employed numerous copyists. arrived at mayence, the distributers found a workshop ready prepared to furnish copies in the shortest possible time. they set to work and brought together all the type they possessed, cast or engraved, to set up these famous letters. among the impressions was that of which we give a reproduction, which belongs to the edition called that of thirty-one lines. the original was delivered for a consideration to josse ott von mospach on the st of december, . it is not without interest, for the history of the book and of printing, to note here that these letters of indulgence, the clandestine traffic in which was largely accelerated by rapidity of production and the small cost of each copy, formed one of the causes of the religious reform of martin luther. they afforded a means of raising money, and were so generally resorted to that in the register of the hotel de ville of paris preserved in the archives nationales (h ) it may be seen that the sheriffs requested the pope to allow them to employ them in the reconstruction of the bridge at the hotel de ville. the ice once broken, fust and schoeffer found it hard to nourish a useless mouth. for them gutenberg was more of a hindrance than a profit, and they sought brutally to rid themselves of him. fust had a most easy pretext, which was to demand purely and simply from his associate the sums advanced by him, and which had produced so little. gutenberg had probably commenced his bible, but, in face of the claims of fust, he had to abandon it altogether, types, formes, and press. [illustration: fig. .--letters of indulgence, from the so-called edition of thirty-one lines, printed at mayence in the course of .] in november, , he had retired to a little house outside the city, where he tried his best, by the aid of foreign help, to establish a workshop, and to preserve the most perfect secrecy. relieved of his company, fust and schoeffer were able to take up the impression of the bible and to complete it without him. if matters did so happen, and schoeffer had not the excuse that he had previously discovered the casting of type, there is but one word to designate his conduct: robbery, and moral robbery, the worst of all. but what can be said to-day of these people? one thing is certain: that the bible of schoeffer, commenced by gutenberg or not, put on sale by fust and schoeffer alone about the end of or beginning of , proves to be the first completed book. retired to his new quarters, gutenberg was taking courage, so as not to appear too much behindhand, but the reconstitution of his workshop cost him enormous time. and, besides, he missed the letter-maker schoeffer, his own gothic letters, engraved on steel with a punch, not having the same elegance. when his work appeared, it could not sustain comparison. the bible of schoeffer was more compact, the impression was more perfect, the ink better, the type less irregular. the original inventor, in his business with fust, made an unhappy competition for himself. we give here a fragment of this celebrated book, a kind of mute witness of the science and mortifications of the first printer. it is now called the mazarine bible, from the fact that the copy in the mazarin library was the first to give evidence concerning it. the book was put on sale at the end of or beginning of , for a manuscript note of a vicar of st. stephen at mayence records that he finished the binding and illuminating of the first volume on st. bartholomew's day, , and the second on the th of august. st. bartholomew's day is the th of june, and not the th of august, as the catalogue of the bibliothèque nationale has it. [illustration: fig. .--fragment of the mazarine bible, printed in two columns. beginning of the text in the second column; original size.] all these remarks show that the printers did not proclaim themselves, and were making pseudo-manuscripts. they did not make known their names or address. the rubricators sided with them, for many of the copies are illuminated with as much care and beauty as if they were the finest manuscripts. there is no record extant of the number of copies printed, but it was done on both vellum and paper. copies are by no means uncommon, most of the great libraries having one, and many are in private collections. one is shown among the typographical monuments in the king's library of the british museum, and there is a finely illuminated copy in the show-room of the bibliothèque nationale. from its very great importance as the first book that is known to have been printed, its value has a constant increase. of the copies recently sold, one at the perkins sale in on vellum sold for £ , , another on paper at the same sale fetched £ , , while one on paper in the syston park library sold in december, , for £ , . it has been asserted that the copies on paper were the first issued by gutenberg and his partners, and those on vellum subsequently printed by fust and schoeffer, after they had obtained possession of the inventor's stock. but so many copies absolutely similar in aspect, and of so regular a style, put in the market from day to day by fust and schoeffer, gave rise to protests from the caligraphists. criticism always attends upon success, but having obtained the result, the two associates did not hesitate to proclaim themselves the printers of the bible. on the publication of the psalter, which followed the bible at a year's interval, they gave their names and added a date, , the first instance of a date being recorded in a book. this second work was of so skilful a typography, that it might have been shown as the work of an expert penman; the faults remarked in the letters of indulgence are no longer seen; type had attained perfection; in two years printing had reached its culminating point. in spite of his disappointments, gutenberg did not rest idle. if he had seen his two enemies rob him of his claim of priority in the invention, he had to show that, reduced to his own exertions and to the restricted means furnished him by charitable people, he also could print well. two years after the bible a dated book, composed in gothic letters, appeared at mayence; this was the _catholicon_ of john balbus, of genoa. it had not yet occurred to these first printers to exercise their art otherwise than on religious works. it is admitted by general opinion that the _catholicon_ issued from the press of gutenberg; on the other hand, m. bernard believes that it ought to be attributed to a printer of eltvil, who published in a vocabulary called the _vocabularium ex quo_ with the same types. the former theory may be sustained by the words of the colophon of the book, which is a sort of hymn to god and a recognition of the city of mayence without any mention of the name of the printer. now in the situation in which gutenberg found himself, in the face of his rivals, had he not some claim to regard the great discovery as his own? but if m. bernard is mistaken, and if our supposition has no foundation, what a beautiful act of humility, what a noble idea of his character, gutenberg gives us in writing, "with the aid of the most high, who releases the tongues of infants and often reveals to babes that which is sealed to learned men, this admirable book the _catholicon_ was finished in the year of the incarnation of our saviour mcccclx. in the mother-country of mayence, famous city of germany, which god, in his clemency, has deigned to render the most illustrious and the first of cities; and this book was perfected without the usual help of pen or style, but by the admirable linking of formes and types"! [illustration: fig. .--colophon of the _catholicon_, supposed to have been printed by gutenberg in .] the history of these men, it is easy to understand, has to be regarded with caution, people of so little consequence then that the authentic documents relating to them have for ever disappeared. if we except that of the pfennigthurm of strasbourg, of which we have before spoken, and the deed of claim for money from fust to gutenberg dated , we are forced to quote from authors living long afterwards, who submitted, without knowing better, to the miserable errors of oral tradition. it is nearly always the same with men who have occupied a large place in the history of art; posterity only knows of their genius at the time when no one knows anything of them. for gutenberg the situation was still more terrible; a rival, peter schoeffer, survived him, and he did not for his own reputation care to preserve his rival's memory; and if, as is believed, gutenberg left pupils and heirs, henry bechtermuncze, ulrich zell, and weigand spyes, his misfortune is crowned by bechtermuncze being now reputed to be the printer of the _catholicon_, of which we have just given the history. even albert pfister, one of his workmen, dismissed at the end of his work, having obtained from his master some rejected types, was presumed later to have invented printing. we find this artisan established at bamberg about , composing bibles in movable types, the first known being that published in . but albert pfister showed that he was not at all an inventor by the mediocrity of his work, and more by the old types that he used. if he had known the secret of engraving the punches, he would have cast new letters and have given a better aspect to his work. [illustration: fig. .--colophon of the bible printed in by fust and schoeffer, which is the first dated bible. there are two different editions with this signature. the above is from the second edition.] in these statements all is supposition and contradiction. that which is certain--and the dates are there to prove it--is the enormous progress in the productions of peter schoeffer. in he published his third book, durand's _rationale divinorum officiorum_, in folio. as in the psalter, schoeffer employed initial letters printed in red, which the rival workshop could not do in the _catholicon_, the rubrics of which are painted by hand, as in manuscripts. in time he put forth a second edition of the psalter, always with fust's name joined to his own. a great number of types were broken at the beginning, but he dreamed of doing yet better. in he gave the _constitutiones_ of pope clement v., with a gloss and commentaries by john andré; here was the first example of a process much employed in manuscripts, but of which the typographical composition was very difficult. again, in a new latin bible issued from their workshops in two folio volumes. it is the first dated edition. the first volume has two hundred and forty-two folios in double columns, the second two hundred and thirty-nine. it commences with an epistle of st. jerome, and on the last leaf of the second volume is the colophon on the preceding page. this book, one of the first worthy of the name, and which is called by preference the mayence bible, appeared in one of the most troubled epochs that the episcopal city had had to go through. subject to its archbishops, who were at the head of all the lay lords and fighting men, the city found itself in the prey of two prelates of equal title who refused to give way to one another: thierry of isembourg and adolph of nassau-wiesbaden. adolph surprised mayence on the th october, , pursuing his adversary, who scaled the walls with a rope to escape quicker, and the city was sacked and pillaged from its foundations. in the middle of this turmoil, what became of the obscure persons who were then the printers of the bible? doubtless their insignificance saved them from disaster, but as it was long before peace was re-established, and the entire edition of their last volume could not be kept back, we incline to believe that they were for a time going about the country as itinerant booksellers. paris was to them a well-indicated point of travel--paris, toward which all german commerce tended. the university where peter schoeffer was instructed in letters, and that truly passed for the first in europe, appeared to them a market of the first order. if we may believe walchius (_decas fabularum generis humani_: strasbourg, , to, p. ), john fust himself went to that city, where he put books on sale from sixty crowns a copy, then fifty, then forty, according to the prevailing system in matters of discount. fust was above all things a merchant; he led it to be believed that he had the marvellous establishment of a copyist beyond the rhine, and he had disposed of many copies, when the corporate scribes of the university, becoming aware of the imposition, cried out furiously and declared it a diabolical invention. we may now take this tale of walchius as a fable, as the registers of parliament, on being consulted, rest silent on the proceedings instituted against the "magician" of mayence. only we must not lose sight of the fact that the booksellers had their masters, their syndicate, if we may use the modern word, charged to prohibit fraudulent publications. they were too much interested in the suppression of printed books to judge the matter coldly. the parliament had nothing to see to in this. the revolution of mayence had otherwise great results, which were not affected by these minor reverses. the printing workshops, or at least the successors of gutenberg, began to be dispersed, and fust and schoeffer having established a school of printers in the city, their trade was no longer secret. deprived of their liberties by the new archbishop, many of them expatriated themselves. we shall take occasion later to name some of these exiles, through whom the art of printing spread itself almost simultaneously throughout the world: to cologne and strasbourg, to italy and spain, without reckoning holland, france, switzerland, and the country around mayence. we have before named the episcopal city of bamberg; it had the singular fortune to be the second city to possess a printing office, but it disappeared as quickly as it was established, with albert pfister, without leaving the least trace; we do not find printing there again before , more than twenty years later. gutenberg was dead before . he was interred in the church of the récollets of mayence, by the pious care of a friend, who attributed the invention of printing to him on his tomb. we may begin to comprehend the influence of this man upon the discovery of which all the world was then talking, but the troubles of the archiepiscopal city hampered the respective merit of the inventors. peter schoeffer and john fust were not much affected by the political crisis. after two years' suspension, they reappeared with a cicero, _de officiis_, , quarto, always at work and always surpassing themselves. this time they freely gave up religious publications, and, still more extraordinary, they employed greek types. such is, detached from the incredible contradictions of writers on art, and sketched solely on its main lines, the origin of printing as it is established at this day. first came the image engraved in relief, which we have not gone to china to find, with some of our predecessors. upon this image were often cut, by the same economical process, legends of explanation that presented the idea of imitation of manuscript; and the xylographs appeared with or without illustrations. then from the correction of errors in these books followed the discovery of movable characters. this wooden type, possible when it was used with a _frotton_ for printing, would quickly break under the press, the idea of which was gained from the common press of the wine-makers. then a kind of metallic type had to be found which would run in a mould struck by a punch. this punch was not invented for the purpose; it served previously for the makers of coins and seals. the fabrication of type from the matrix was a simple adoption. the lead thrown into the matrix gave the desired type. thus were made the first books, of which we have briefly related the composition. as to the proportion of glory due to each one of the first printers, it is necessary equally, to guard against error on one side or the other. we have sought to separate from the heap of publications probable opinions or those based on certain documents. that the origin of the _donatus_, the block books, was dutch would be puerile to deny, because, on one side, the engravings on blocks are surely of the school of van eyck, and, on the other hand, ulrich zell, who inspired the "cologne chronicle" of , assigned positively to holland the cradle of the _donatus_. at any rate, it was a pupil of gutenberg, a question we have discussed. after that we will trouble ourselves but little about laurent coster. the name makes no difference in a matter of this kind. as to gutenberg, we have not been able to go as far as m. e. dutuit, who in his _manuel a'estampes_ (vol. i., p. , etc.) doubts gutenberg's right to the title of inventor. it is stated that in a letter of william fichet, prior of the sorbonne, of whom we shall have more to say presently, to robert gaguin, which m. a. claudin found at the beginning of a work entitled _gasparim pergamensis orthographiæ liber_, published in , nearly twenty years after the first work at mayence, gutenberg is proclaimed the inventor of printing. without any other, this testimony of a _savant_ who was the first to bring the german printers to paris appears to us well nigh irrefutable. as to john fust and his grandson by marriage, peter schoeffer, they are so well defended by their works, that there is no more to say here; doubtless grave presumptions arise as to the delicacy of their conduct with gutenberg, but we are not so bold as to censure them beyond measure. we know nothing precise either of the time or of the men. let us now imagine humble workmen, the most simple of _gens de mestiers_, to employ the french expression then in use, shut up in a kind of dark workshop, like a country forge, formed in little groups of two or three persons, one designing and the other cutting the wood, having near them a table, on which is held the engraved block after its reliefs have been rubbed with sombre ink, who afterwards, by means of the _frotton_, apply the damped paper to the raised parts of the block; we shall have without much stretch of thought all the economy of the xylographic impression. if we add to this primitive workshop the matrix in which the types are cast, the box in which they are distributed, the forme on which they are arranged to compose the pages, and a small hand-press, with blacker ink and paper damped to permit the greasy ink to take better, we have a picture of the work-room of gutenberg, fust, and schoeffer, and of the first printers with movable types. thus typography was born of painting, passing in its infancy through wood-cutting, revolutionising ideas and somewhat the world. but the mighty power of the new art was not confined to itself; it extended the circle of engraving, which till then had suffered from the enormous difficulties of reproduction. as if the time were ripe for all these things, nearly at the moment when the first printers were distinguishing themselves by serious works, a florentine goldsmith accidentally discovered the cutting of cast metal.[a] what would have become of this new process if the presses of gutenberg had not brought their powerful assistance to the printing of engravings? it will be found then that printing rendered a hundredfold to engraving for that which it received from it and bore it along with its own rapid advance. then reappeared, following the new processes, the figures somewhat abandoned by the mayence workmen during the period of transformation. our object is to speak at length of the book ornamented and illustrated according to the means of relief-cutting or casting; to demonstrate the influence of painting, of sculpture, of art, on the production of the book; and thus to help the reader at the same time to understand the almost sudden and irresistible development of typography, and to mention its foremost representatives. [footnote a: the opinion that finiguerra was the unconscious inventor of casting engravings is now abandoned.] chapter ii. to . the book and the printers of the second generation--the german workmen dispersed through europe--caxton and the introduction of printing into england--nicholas jenson and his supposed mission to mayence--the first printing in paris; william fichet and john heinlein--the first french printers; their installation at the sorbonne and their publications--the movement in france--the illustration of the book commenced in italy--the book in italy; engraving in relief and metal plates--the book in germany: cologne, nuremberg, basle--the book in the low countries--french schools of ornament of the book; books of hours; booksellers at the end of the fifteenth century--literary taste in titles in france at the end of the fifteenth century--printers and booksellers' marks--the appearance of the portrait in the book--progress in england--caxton and his followers. considering the influence of printing on the book trade of the fifteenth century, as referred to in the preceding pages, the dealers in manuscripts were not disposed to give way at the first blow. an entire class of workmen would find themselves from day to day without employment if the new art succeeded; these were the copyists, miserable scribes, who for meagre remuneration frequented the shops of the merchants, where they transcribed manuscripts by the year. before printing the publication of books was so effected, and the booksellers were rather intermediaries between the copyist and the buyer, than direct dealers having shops and fittings complete. it is evident that they would not provide themselves with these costly books long in advance without being sure of disposing of them. small as was the remuneration of the writers, it was much to them; and they were naturally the first to protest against the new invention. at the same time, their opposition and that of the booksellers was soon overcome, swamped, and choked by the growing crowd of printers. then, as always happens in similar cases, in place of fighting against the current, most of the former workers in manuscript followed it. the writers designed letters for engraving in wood, the booksellers sold the printed works, and some of the illuminators engraved in relief or cast their _histoyres_. for a long time these last continued to decorate books with the ornamental drawings with which they had adorned the manuscripts, and so contributed to form the fine school of illustrators who carried their art to so high a point from the end of the fifteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--imprint of arnold ther hoernen, printer, of mayence.] as previously related, the revolution of mayence caused the flight of a crowd of artisans who found their liberty suddenly compromised by the conqueror. the want of money at this time always brought a diminution of patronage, and working printers have been at all times tenacious of their privileges. it so happened that their guild, in place of remaining established at mayence many years longer, was, as it were, turned out, scattered to the four cardinal points by the dispersion of its members, and scattered many years before the natural time. in point of fact, in the common order of things, a workman here and there quits the principal workshop to try the world. he makes his way timidly, unconscious apostle of a marvellous art. if he succeeds, he gathers some pupils round him; if he fails, no trace of him remains; in any case invention propagates itself more gradually. with printing it was a thunderclap. hardly had it made its appearance when the exodus commenced. the greater part of the mayence men went to italy: to subiaco and to rome, arnold pannartz, conrad sweynheim, ulrich hahn; to venice, john of spire, vendelin of spire, christopher valdarfer, bernard pictor (of augsburg), erhardt ratdolt, peter loslein; to ferrara, andrew belfort; to foligno, john neumeister; henry alding tried sicily; andrew vyel, of worms, printed at palermo. lambert palmart was at valencia, in spain, in ; nicholas spindeler at barcelona; peter hagenbach at toledo; not far from mayence--that is, at cologne--ulrich zell, a pupil of gutenberg, who dated his first work . it was arnold ther hoernen who numbered a book with arabic figures; it was koelhof who first used signatures to indicate to the binder the order of the sheets; it was at eltvil that henry bechtermuncze, as we have already said, printed his _vocabularium_ in german, with the types of the _catholicon_; at basle, berthold rüppel, of hanau, was the first established in that city which after mayence did the most for printing; at nuremberg, koburger, who took nearly the first rank among his contemporaries, set as many as twenty-four presses to work, and was named by badius the prince of printers. and how matters went on! for instance, the very year that followed the death of gutenberg, monks, the brothers of the common life of marienthal, in the rheingau, themselves published a copy of the indulgences accorded by adolph of nassau, archbishop of mayence. before , presses were everywhere in germany: at prague, augsburg, ulm, lubeck, essling, etc. it is to be remarked that the mayence men did not turn towards holland. is it that they found there the descendants of laurent coster firmly established in their workshops? must the coexistence, the simultaneous advance, of the invention in germany and in the low countries be admitted? it is a secret for us and for many others, but we know for certain that flemish printers were established at utrecht in , at delft, bruges, gouda, zwoll, antwerp, and brussels. at louvain there was besides john of westphalia, who published in a work of peter crescens, and several other works. colard mansion was printing at bruges about ; and was employed by william caxton, who had been for some years trading as a merchant in the low countries, to print the "recuyell of the histories of troy," by raoul le fevre, which caxton had translated into english at the command of queen margaret. this was issued in , and was the first book printed in the english language. in or caxton returned to england with a fount of types, which he had employed mansion to cut and cast for him, and established himself as a printer in the precincts of westminster abbey. in he produced the first book printed in england, "the dictes and sayings of the philosophers," followed by a large number of important works, many of them written or translated by caxton himself. thus was typography firmly established in england; and caxton's immediate successors, wynken de worde, richard pynson, william machlinia, have had a glorious roll of followers, which has never been broken to this day. from westminster the art spread in england to oxford, where theodoricus rood, from cologne, printed an _exposicio sancti jeronimi_ in ; and to st. albans in by a printer who has never been identified, and who produced the famous "chronicle" and "boke of st. albans." the invasion, we see, had been most rapid. in less than fifteen years, every important city had followed the movement, and was ready to establish printing offices. if we may credit a certain controverted document, charles vii. had on the rd of october, , sent to mayence one of the best medal engravers of the mint of tours to study the process of which marvels were spoken: "the rd of october, , the king having learned that messire guthenberg, living at mayence, in the country of germany, a dexterous man in carving and making letters with a punch, had brought to light the invention of printing by punches and types, desirous of inquiring into such a treasure, the king has commanded the generals of his mints to nominate persons well instructed in the said cutting and to send them secretly to the said place to inform themselves of the said mode and invention, to understand and learn the art of them, in order to satisfy the said lord king; and it was undertaken by nicholas jenson, who took the said journey to bring intelligence of the said art and of the execution of it in the said kingdom, which first has made known the said art of impression to the said kingdom of france" (bibliothèque de l'arsenal, hf , pp. , ). nicholas jenson on his return met with a cool reception from louis xi., who did not continue the works of his father. it may be supposed that this coolness was the cause of his expatriating himself and retiring to a place where his industry could be better exercised. ten years after the above mission we find him established at venice, his art of engraver of letters joined to that of printer. his eusebius, translated by trapezuntius, and his justinian, were composed in with such marvellous and clear types that from that day the best typographers have imitated his founts. in spite of its success, he did not confine himself to these letters, but he made use also of gothic, in which he printed by preference pious books. [illustration: fig. .--imprint of nicholas jenson to a justinian, printed in at venice. this type has prevailed up to now.] in spite of the attempts of jenson in the name of the king of france--that is, if these attempts ever took place in the manner indicated above--the invention was not known to have commended itself to the powerful university of paris. in general, and especially for the introduction of innovations in that learned body, it was necessary to fight, to strike without much chance of success, save in case of having acquaintance in the place. we have seen john fust, obliged suddenly to retake the road to germany, in a fair way to find himself taxed with sorcery, not an inconsiderable matter. for others the sale of unauthorised books had had most unhappy consequences unless the parliament intervened. so ten years had passed since the journey of jenson, and ten or twelve since the first manifestations of typography at mayence, without the diabolical discovery finding admittance to the sorbonne. a still more extraordinary thing, a cologne printer issued about a small folio in gothic type, thirty-one long lines to a page, which was a work written in french. the _histoires de troyes_ of raoul le fevre, chaplain of the dukes of burgundy, first found a publisher in germany, and soon after another in england, before a single press was definitely installed at paris. as we have said of peter schoeffer, numerous german students were in the university, where they pursued their studies, and frequently remained later as masters. it has been found that in a former student of leipzig named john heinlein, a native of stein, in the diocese of spire, entered as regent of the college of burgundy, from whence he passed to the sorbonne in , the year of the troubles in mayence. after the manner of latinising names so common at that time, he called himself lapidanus, from the name of his native place, which means stone in german. heinlein met in paris a savoyard, william fichet, born in at petit bornand, who became an associate of the sorbonne about , and finally rector in . these two men were great friends, and their particular instincts attracted them to men of elevated studies. they divined at once the enormous help printing would bring to their work. besides, it grieved them to see through the whole of france, especially in touraine, german colporteurs carrying on their trade under cover of other commerce, a practice from which the most grave inconveniences might result. it occurred to them that to prevent fraud they would themselves create a printing establishment; but if they deliberated on it, it must have been in secret, for the registers of the sorbonne are silent on their enterprise. if fichet conceived the idea, it may be believed that, from his german origin, heinlein put it into execution. m. philippe thinks that he was formerly at basle. in all probability it was from that city he tried to obtain his workmen. in six years had elapsed since the craftsmen were dispersed and fled from mayence. at all events, it was from basle that ulrich gering, michael freyburger, and martin krantz, printers recommended to the two sorbonnists, departed, and in due course arrived in paris. of these three men, who were the first to establish a printing office on the french side of the rhine, ulrich gering was a student as well as a printer, so was freyburger, originally of colmar. krantz was a letter-founder, and the only real workman of the three companions. we have often regretted with regard to these men, as also to gutenberg, fust, and schoeffer, that no really authentic portrait has transmitted their features to us. every one will recall the fur cap and loose pantaloons of the mediocre statue at mayence, but there is really no portrait of gutenberg. as to gering, m. philippe, in his _histoire de l'origine de l'imprimerie à paris_, publishes a grotesque figure muffled in the ruff of the sixteenth century, after a picture preserved at lucerne, but for which much cannot be said. lacaille, in his _histoire de l'imprimerie_, gives a full-length portrait of gering, said to be taken from a painting in the college montagu. the workshop of the three germans was set up within the walls of the sorbonne--_in ædibus sorbonnicis_--in . there they set to work at once, their printing establishment consisting simply of a room, none too light, a table, a press, and formes. krantz doubtless struck the types chosen by the sorbonnists, for there were then in use two sorts of letters: german gothic and roman. they kept to the roman, as being more round and clear; and as soon as they obtained matrices and cast their type, they entered on their task with ardour. [illustration: fig. .--"letters" of gasparin of bergamo. first page of the first book printed at paris, in .] the tendencies of fichet and heinlein were not towards transcendent theology, but rather towards the literature of the ancients and contemporary rhetorical works. besides, it may be said, considering that men are far from perfect, fichet counted on making the authorised presses serve his own purpose. we find him publishing a treatise on rhetoric in quarto in ; meantime he supervised the work confided to his artists. they commenced with a large volume of "letters" of gasparin of bergamo, which was set up in quarto with the roman type, the form of which had been accepted. at the end of the work, the impression of which cost much time--possibly a year--the three printers placed a quatrain in latin distichs, which is at once a statement of identity and a promise for the future. [illustration: fig. .--colophon in distichs in the "letters" of gasparin of bergamo, first book printed at paris, at the office of the sorbonne.] if we try to apportion to each of the three printers his share in the making of the book, it may be supposed that the intellectual part of the composition and the correction fell to freyburger and gering, while the heavier work of founding, placing in formes, and press work fell to krantz. this essay, satisfactory as it appeared, was far from perfection. the first parisian printers had multiplied abbreviations and irregular contractions, and enormous difficulties and inevitable faults ensued. further, either they had more than one punch, or the leaden matrix was deformed, for the characters frequently differ. at the same time, we must commend them for having used the _æ_ and _[oe]_, which were uniformly written _e_ in the manuscripts, thus giving rise to errors without number. their punctuation was the comma, semicolon, and full stop. [illustration: fig. .--_rhetorique_ of fichet, printed at paris in . the marginal ornaments are drawn by hand.] fichet and heinlein had become the modest librarians of the sorbonne, and this new employment gave them greater facilities for surveillance. the printing office did not remain inactive. it issued successively the "orthography" of gasparin of bergamo, the "letters" of phalaris, two books of Æneas sylvius, the "conspiracy of catiline" of sallust, the "epitome of titus livius" of florus, and finally the "rhetorics" of william fichet, which, if we may credit a letter addressed to bessarion, was finished in . following came the "letters" of bessarion, the _elegantia latinæ linguæ_ of valla, the first folio volume from the sorbonne presses; and others, thirteen volumes in - and seventeen in . at the end of the workshop was somewhat broken up, fichet having left for rome and heinlein preaching in germany. the three printers had shown by their works that they were in earnest; besides, they had from the first gratuitously distributed copies among the nobles, who, being accustomed to pay highly for manuscripts, did not fail to note the difference. the associates then resolved to quit the sorbonne and create an establishment for themselves; their patrons being no longer there to sustain them in case of failure, and in giving up their presses and types it may be judged that they were not without anxiety on that point. their oldest dated book, the _manipulus curatorum_ of montrochet, was also the first that they printed in their new quarters, at the sign of the "golden sun" in the rue st. jacques. they remained united up to the year , when gering alone printed at the "golden sun," but he obtained associates, george mainyal in and berthold rembold in , who lived with him in the rue de la sorbonne, where he established himself on leaving the rue st. jacques. ulrich gering died on the rd of august, , after a half-century of work. the movement inaugurated by the sorbonne was promptly followed. german workmen opened their shops nearly everywhere in france; then the french themselves scattered. at lyons in a frenchman was established, the same at angers, caen, metz, troyes, besançon, and salins. but in the central provinces we find henry mayer at toulouse, john neumeister at albi; in the east metlinger at dijon; and michael wensler, of basle, at macon, among others, about . we have now arrived at an epoch of greater efforts. the lyons printers used ornamental letters, from which were developed engravings in the book. since the block books illustration had been neglected, as the means were wanting to distribute the plates here and there in the forme; schoeffer still employed initial letters in wood very like vignettes. john fust was now dead, but peter schoeffer continued to print without intermission. if we search for the precise epoch in which illustration appeared in the history of the book, we shall perhaps have to go back to the time of albert pfister, printer of bamberg, who issued in an edition of the "fables of ulrich bohner" with a hundred and one figures on wood. this may be said to be the unconscious combination of xylography with typography, a kind of transformation of old elements to new things without other importance; art had no place in this adaptation. up to this time germany had not, in its school of painters or miniaturists, men capable of giving a personal impulse to ornament. in the german editions of the block books the influence of van eyck had made itself felt very sensibly, and the flemish had preserved their supremacy on this point; on the other hand, the german printers who went to seek their fortune in italy fell into the middle of a circle admirably prepared to receive them and to communicate their ideas to them. it is believed that the first book printed in italy with woodcuts in the text and with an ascertained date is the work of a german established at rome, ulrich hahn, in . an account in the _annuaire du bibliophile_, which, being without citation of authority, we quote for what it is worth, relates that ulrich hahn was established as a printer at vienna about , but was driven thence by the publication of a pamphlet against the burgomaster of the city, and was attracted to rome by torquemada, who confided to him the impression of his work the _meditationes_. hahn was an engraver, as were also most of his _confrères_ at that time--that is, he cut in relief designs to be intercalated in the text--and passavant relates that the designs of the _meditationes_ were from compositions of fra angelico, who died in . be that as it may, the book, the printing of which was finished on st. sylvester's day, , is the first known with engravings, and only three copies of it exist: one at vienna, one at nuremberg, and one in lord spencer's library; it is composed in gothic type in folio. [illustration: fig. .--wood engraving of matteo pasti for valturius' _de re militari_: verona, .] illustration found a true artist at verona, matteo pasti, who furnished designs for a volume on military art by valturius, printed in roman characters in folio, at the expense of john of verona, and dedicated to sigismond pandolfi. pasti's eighty-two figures are simple outlines, and we here reproduce one of the principal--an archer shooting at a butt. published in , the volume of valturius followed soon after the _meditationes_, but the engravings enable us to see how the italian process, consisting mostly of lines without shadows, differed from the dutch and german. one thing to be remarked here is the purity of the design, in spite of the roughness of the engraving; we see in these figures italian art at its height, despite the somewhat coarse translation of the wood-cutter. at venice the german inventors had reaped their harvest. at the end of the fifteenth century, fifty years after the invention of typography, the printing offices and booksellers' shops were counted by hundreds. it was in this city that for the first time a title with frontispiece carrying indication of the contents, the place, the date, and the name of the printer, was given to the book. we give here this ornamental title, placed before a _calendario_ of john de monteregio, printed by pictor, loslein, and ratdolt in , folio. the german erhardt ratdolt was probably the promoter of these innovations. he soon afterwards published the first geometrical book with figures, the "elements of euclid," , folio; in the same year he produced the _poeticon astronomicum_ of hyginus, previously printed at ferrara, with illustrations on wood of excellent design, but laboriously and unskilfully engraved. yet the art of the book could not remain mediocre in this city, where the artists were creating marvels. john of spire and afterwards nicholas jenson, the emigrant from france, of whom we have spoken above, had created, after italian manuscripts, that roman letter, the primitive type of which has come down to our time very little retouched. at the death of jenson in , his materials passed into the hands of andrew d'asola, called andrea torresani, who did not allow the good traditions of his master to die, and who produced among others a book bearing signatures, catchwords, and paging ("letters of st. jerome," ). torresani was the father-in-law of aldus manutius, who was to be for ever illustrious in the art of printing at venice, and raised his art to the highest perfection. [illustration: fig. .--title-page of the _calendario_, first ornamental title known. printed in at venice.] but if decoration by means of relief blocks found a favourable reception in italy and, above all, a group of artists capable of carrying it to success, there were at the same time other experiments conceived in a different way. the discovery of maso finiguerra gave to the art a new process of reproduction, and printing presses had now to render possible and practicable the working of engraved plates. in order to make that which follows comprehensible, we enter into a few technical details, the whole subject having been so admirably and fully treated by mm. delaborde and duplessis. in the engraved wood block, as in the printing type, it is a projection in the wood or metal which, being inked and passed under a press, leaves on paper its lines in black. naturally then the intercalation of an engraving of this kind in typographical composition is made without difficulty, and the impression of both is taken at once. on the other hand, a line engraving is obtained from incised lines on a plate of copper; that is, an instrument called a burin traces the lines, which are filled with greasy ink. these incised lines only are inked. the surface of the plate is cleaned off to avoid smudging. the sheet of paper destined for the impression has then to be made very pliable, so that at the striking of the press it runs, so to speak, to find the ink in the lines and hold it. it is therefore impossible to take a text from relief characters at the same time as an engraved plate. [illustration: fig. .--engraving on metal by baccio baldini for _el monte santo di dio_, in .] however, this kind of reproduction, which, contrary to that from wood, allowed of half-tints or toning down, attracted in good time the workers at the book. it appeared to them possible to reconcile the two printings by the successive passage of the same sheet of paper through the press, to receive at first the impression from the type and afterwards to find the ink deposited in the incisions in the copper. the first manifestation of this new method of illustration was made at florence, the home of line engraving, by nicholas di lorenzo in , for the work of antonio bettini, of siena, called _el monte santo di dio_. here the artists were never known. common opinion has it that baccio baldini borrowed from sandro botticelli the subjects of his plates. italian engraving always seeks its source in pollajuolo, botticelli, and baldini. it is not the simple work of a niellist, but it had not yet reached perfection either in the work or in the impression; the illustrations of the _monte santo_ are proof of this, as are also those of the _dante_, by baldini, in , for the same nicholas di lorenzo. from this we reproduce the misers. [illustration: fig. .--metal engraving by baccio baldini from the dante of .] at this epoch engravings from the burin were taken with a pale ink, the composition of which is very different from the fine black ink of schoeffer as well as of the old italian printers. and besides in most cases the proofs were obtained with the _frotton_, like the ancient block books, an eminently defective process. the press was not yet well adapted to the delicate work of line engraving, and the workmen, who did not apply the plates until after the text was printed, preferred not to risk the loss of their sheets by the use of inappropriate presses. these, with the insignificant attempts made by the germans in ,[a] are the beginnings of the process of line engraving in the ornamentation of the book. in fact, the process failed to take its due position for want of a more convenient mode of working. relief engraving had got ahead; with it the sheets used for the impression did not require working more than once to register the figures with the text; in a word, the labour was not so great. a century had to pass before line engraving completely dethroned the vignette on wood, a century in which the latter attained its height, and showed what able artisans could make of a process apparently the least flexible. [footnote a: _breviarium ecclesie herbipolensis_: et. dold., , folio, copper plate engravings.] not to leave italy, which had the honour of making the book with engraved illustrations known to the world, we pass by some years, during which arnold bucking gave at rome a _cosmographia_ of ptolemy, , with incised plates, which is the first printed atlas that was produced, whilst as regards ordinary publications there appeared in all parts classical and italian works, such as cicero, virgil, tacitus, pliny, eusebius, among the ancients, and dante, petrarch, boccaccio, etc., among moderns. among the editions of dante, we may cite that of peter of cremona, dated th november, , with one engraving to each canto, of which the earlier are after botticelli, and perhaps drawn by him directly on the wood. passavant believes these figures to be cut in relief in the metal. on some of the plates there is a signature, a gothic b, the signification of which leaves a free field for conjecture, and perhaps for error. copies of this book with the complete series of twenty plates are extremely rare; one in the hamilton palace library sold in may, , for £ ; the royal library of berlin recently agreed to pay £ , for a proof set of the plates. [illustration: fig. .--plate from the _hypnerotomachia poliphili_, printed by aldus manutius, in .] as we shall see later apropos of german vignettes of the same period, the characteristic of italian engraving was sobriety, the complete absence of useless work and the great simplicity of the human figure. this special manner will be found in the famous edition of the _hypnerotomachia poliphili_ of francis colonna, printed in by aldus, copied sixty years later by a french printer, and lately reproduced in reduced size. [illustration: fig. .--plate from bonino de bonini's dante, at brescia, in .] the italian illustrators, whether they were working in wood, or, as some writers have it, in metal, adroitly brought their figures forward by contrasting some rudimentary work in the persons with the more accentuated and often stippled ground, which formed a dark background. this was also the ordinary process in their ornaments, among the most interesting of which are the borders of the plates to an edition of dante by bonino de bonini, brescia, , of which a specimen is here reproduced. if we return from italy, which then took the lead, to germany, a school of _formschneiders_ is found about the year at augsburg, whose secluded workshops were of no benefit to the booksellers. these ill-advised artisans went still further. apparently furious to see printing so widely spread as to render their bad woodcuts difficult to get rid of, they united in a body to interdict gunther zainer and schüssler from putting engravings into their books. they must nevertheless have come to an ultimate arrangement, for zainer printed in a book on chess by jacopo da cessole, with vignettes. he was one of the few german printers who employed roman characters in place of the gothic of peter schoeffer. at cologne in arnold ther hoernen published a work entitled _fasciculus temporum_, with small illustrations engraved on wood. a bible without date contains most interesting illustrations. as to the celebrated _todtentantz_, or "dance of death," published about , it contains forty-one relief plates of the most ordinary kind, the same as in the "chronicle of cologne" of , of which the figures, though less german, less distorted, are worth little compared with those of the nuremberg books, more german, but more artistic. [illustration: fig. .--the creation of woman, plate from the _schatzbehalter_, engraved after michael wolgemuth.] at nuremberg, antony koburger, called by badius the prince of booksellers, directed an immense establishment, employing more than a hundred workmen, without counting smaller houses at basle and lyons. koburger was a capable and a fortunate man. he had at first put forth a bible very indifferently illustrated with the cuts of the cologne bible, but he had before him something better than copying others. michael wohlgemuth, born at nuremberg in , was then in the full vigour of his talent. to his school the young albert dürer came to study; and as he was able to draw on wood as well as to engrave on copper and paint on panel, koburger was attracted to him, and engaged him to make a set of illustrations for a book. the projected work was the _schatzbehalter_, a sort of ascetic compilation, without interest, without arrangement. michael wohlgemuth set to work; and, thanks to the ability of his engravers, of whom william pleydenwurff was probably one, koburger was able to put the book on sale in the course of in three hundred and fifty-two folios of two columns. without being perfection, the designs of wohlgemuth, very german, very striking, present the vigour and merit of the future school of nuremberg. the figure is no longer a simple line, in the manner of the block books, but a combination of interlaced cuttings, intended to imitate colour. those representing the creation of eve and the daughter of jephthah are here reproduced. in the search for harmony between the text and engravings of this curious work, we shall find grace and gaiety laid aside, on the other hand a freedom and boldness that interest and permit us to appreciate at their value the nuremberg artists and koburger, the printer. in fact, the german artists are more individual, each one taken by himself, than the italian illustrators could be, condemned as they were to the hierarchical commonplace and to a certain form of idealism into which the art of italy entered little by little. the german painters, naturalists and believers, presented their heroes in the image of that robust nature that was before their eyes. it was in this rude and unpolished spirit that michael wohlgemuth decorated the _schatzbehalter_; he also composed the designs for the "nuremberg chronicle" of dr. hartman schedel, printed by koburger in . [illustration: fig. .--the daughter of jephthah, plate taken from the _schatzbehalter_, engraved after michael wolgemuth.] with dürer, at the latter end of the fifteenth century, the book was no more than a pretext for engravings. thausing, his biographer, says that the great artist felt the necessity of designing an apocalypse at rome at the time that luther was premeditating his religious revolution in face of the worldly splendours of the pontifical court. the "apocalypse," published in in latin, with gothic characters, was an album of fifteen large wood engravings. the four horsemen is the best of these plates, and the boldest; but in this gross fancy, in these poor halting old hacks, the fantastic and grand idea which the artist meant to convey can hardly be seen. it may be said the genius of dürer was little adapted to vignettes, however large they were, and did not easily lend itself to the exigencies of a spun-out subject. the title of his "apocalypse" is of its kind a curious example of german genius, but, in spite of its vigour, it does not please like an italian headpiece or like a french or flemish frontispiece. the other works of dürer published in the fifteenth century, "the life of the virgin" and "the passion," were also sets of prints that received a text in the sixteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--title of the "apocalypse," by albert dürer, printed in . first edition, without text.] [illustration: fig. .--title of sebastian brandt's "ship of fools," printed in at basle by bergman de olpe.] [illustration: fig. .--the _bibliomaniac_. engraving from the "ship of fools."] for the rest of his illustrations dürer belongs to the sixteenth century, and we shall have occasion to recur to his works. at present it remains to speak of a curious work printed at basle by bergman de olpe in , which appears to be the first comic conception of fifteenth century artists: the _navis stultifera_, or "ship of fools," of sebastian brandt. this work of the school of basle lacks neither originality nor vigour. at the time when it was published its success was immense, from the strange tricks of its clowns, with fools' caps, with which every page was adorned. alas! the best things fall under the satire of these jesters, even the book and the lover of books, if we may judge by the sarcasms against useless publications volleyed by the personage here reproduced. "i have the first place among fools.... i possess heaps of volumes that i rarely open. if i read them, i forget them, and i am no wiser." brunet sees in these humorous caricatures more art than is really to be found in them. their value is owing more to their spirit and humour than to any other artistic merit. even the engraving is singularly fitted to the subject, with its peculiar cutting, somewhat executed in hairlines. the designer was certainly not a holbein, but he is no longer the primitive artisan of the first german plates, and his freedom is not displeasing. we have before spoken, apropos of engraving by the burin in italy, of the small share of germany in the essay at illustration by that means, and we do not see a real and serious attempt in the two little coats of arms in copper plate in the _missale herbipolense_, printed in . the flemish had not taken any great flights in the midst of this almost european movement. the school of burgundy, whose influence was felt in all the surrounding countries, had lost its authority in consequence of the progress realized at mayence. without doubt the great flemish artists were there, but they were honoured painters, and their inclination did not descend to seeking the booksellers beyond making them offers of service. besides, the first of these, officially established in flanders, were two germans, john of westphalia and john veldener, of cologne, who established themselves in the university of louvain in , three years after the first paris printers. john of westphalia, who took his own portrait for his mark, edited the _fasciculus temporum_, a book which had enormous success in the fifteenth century. at haarlem, in spite of the block books attributed to laurent coster, illustration was backward. about , a dutch translation of the _malheurs de troye_ of le fevre was put on sale. this french book was published at cologne before france possessed the smallest typographical workshop. at bruges colard mansion illuminated the cuts of his _metamorphoses_ of ovid in . simple engraving appeared to him far remote from manuscripts of which the vogue had not yet passed away. at zwoll peter van os, the publisher, cut up and used the xylographic plates of the _biblia pauperum_, while the master _à la navette_, john of cologne, an artist in the best sense of the word, was ornamenting certain popular publications with his designs. at utrecht veldener came from louvain to establish a workshop. he published for the second time a _fasciculus_ in ; he created a style of decoration with flowers and leaves, which shortly after developed into the trade of _rahmenschneiders_. antwerp had attracted gerard de leeu from gouda, and he produced the romance of _belle vienne_. schiedam had an inventive engraver who illustrated an edition of the _chevalier delibéré_ of oliver de la marche, in folio, with gothic letters, after , as we read in the colophon:-- "cet traittié fut parfait l'an mil quatre cens quatre vings et trois ainsi que sur la fin d'avril que l'yver est en son exil, et que l'esté fait ses explois. au bien soit pris en tous endrois de ceulx à qui il est offert par celui qui _tant a souffert_, la marche." the french language, bright and harmonious, thus found hospitality in other countries. for many examples of french books published abroad, we cannot cite one german work printed in france. spreading from the north to the south, typography had from its two principal centres at paris and lyons. after the success of the three germans at the sorbonne, events took their own course. in peter cæsaris and john stol, two students who had been instructed by gering and krantz, founded the second establishment in paris, at the sign of the "soufflet vert;" and they printed classical works. ten years later appeared antony vérard, simon vostre, and pigouchet, the first of whom gave to french bookselling an impulse that it has not since lost; but before them pasquier-bonhomme published his _grandes chroniques_ in , three volumes folio, the oldest in date of books printed at paris in french. the french school of illustration was at its most flourishing point at the end of the fifteenth century, but solely in miniature and ornamentation by the pencil. the charming figures of the manuscripts had at this time a flemish and naturalistic tendency. the most celebrated of the great artists in manuscripts, john foucquet, could not deny the source of his talent nor the influence of the van eyck school, yet the touch remained distinctly personal. he had travelled, and was not confined to the art circles of a single city, as were so many of the earliest painters of flanders. he had gone through italy, and from thence he transported architectural subjects for his curious designs in the _heures_ of etienne chevalier, now at frankfort; a precious fragment of it is preserved in the national library of paris. side by side with this undoubted master, whose works are happily known, lived a more modest artist: john perréal, called john of paris, painter to charles viii., louis xii., and anne of brittany. in joining with these two masters, to serve as a transition between foucquet and perréal, john bourdichon, designer to the kings of france from louis xi. to francis i., we obtain already a not despicable assemblage of living forces. without doubt these men were not comparable either with the admirable school of flanders, or the germans of nuremberg, or the masters of italy; but, moderate as we may deem their merit, they did their tasks day by day, painting miniatures, colouring coats of arms, rendering to the kings, their masters, all the little duties of devoted servants without conceit, and preparing, according to their means, the great artistic movement in france of the seventeenth century. that these men, leaving the brush for the pencil, devoted themselves to design figures on wood, is undeniable. it is said that one of them followed charles viii. to the italian wars, and probably sketched the battles of the campaign as they took place. now in the books published at this epoch in france we meet with vignettes which so very nearly approach miniatures, that we can easily recognise in them french taste and finish. such are, for example, the illustrations of the _mer des histoires_, printed by le rouge in , where suppleness of design is blended in some parts with extraordinary dexterity in engraving. nevertheless, others leave something to be desired; they maim the best subjects by their unskilful line and their awkwardness of handling. were not these engravers on wood printers themselves: the commins, guyot marchants, pierre lecarrons, jean trepperels, and others? we are tempted to see in certain shapeless work the hasty and light labour of an artisan hurried in its execution. as mentioned above, the part taken by the booksellers in the making of the plates does not make our supposition in itself appear inadmissible. [illustration: fig. .--mark of philip pigouchet, french printer and wood engraver of the fifteenth century.] printing had been established about twenty years in paris when philip pigouchet, printer and engraver on wood, began to exercise his trade for himself or on account of other publishers. formerly bookseller in the university, he transported his presses to the rue de la harpe, and took for his mark the curious figure here reproduced. at this moment a veritable merchant, simon vostre, conceived the idea of putting forth books of hours, until then disdained in france, and of publishing them in fine editions with figures, borders, ornaments, large separate plates, and all the resources of typography. the trials made at venice and naples between and warranted the enterprise. entering into partnership with pigouchet, the two were able on the th of april, , to place on sale the _heures à l'usaige de rome_, octavo, with varied ornaments and figures. the operation having succeeded beyond their hopes, thanks to the combination of the subjects of the borders, subjects that could be turned and re-turned in all ways so as to obtain the greatest variety, simon vostre reapplied himself to the work, and ordered new cuts to augment the number of his decorations. passavant's idea is commonly received that the engraving was in relief on metal; the line in it is very fine, the background stippled, and the borders without scratches. wood could not have resisted the force of the press; the reliefs would have been crushed, the borders rubbed and broken. in all the successive editions hard work and wear are not remarked, and we are forced to admit the use of a harder material than the pear or box-wood of ordinary blocks. according to his wants, simon vostre designed new series of ornaments. among them were histories of the saints, biblical figures, even caricatures against churchmen, after the manner of the old sculptors, who thought that sin was rendered more horrible in the garb of a monk. then there were the dance of death and sibyls, allying sacred with profane, even the trades, all forming a medley of little figures in the margins, in the borders, nestled among acanthus leaves, distorted men, fantastic animals, and saints piously praying. the middle ages live again in these bright and charming books, french in their style, imbued with good sense and perfect toleration. [illustration: fig. .--border in four separate blocks in the _heures à l'usaige de rome_, by pigouchet, for simon vostre, in . small figures from the "dance of death."] the book rose under simon vostre and philip pigouchet to the culminating point of ornamentation. here design and engraving improve and sustain each other. it is not only the stippled backgrounds of the borders that please the eye. and who was this unknown designer, this painter of bold conceptions, whose work is complete in little nothings? however, the large full-page figures have not always an originality of their own, nor the french touch of the borders. thus that of the passion here reproduced is inspired line for line by the german, martin schongauer. are we to suppose, that duplicates of blocks passed between france and germany, or was a copy made by a french designer? it is difficult to say. still the coincidence is not common to all the missals of the great parisian bookseller. the death of the virgin here reproduced is an evident proof of it. it forms part of the book, and is a truly french work. [illustration: fig. .--plate copied from schongauer's carrying of the cross, taken from the _heures_ of simon vostre.] [illustration: fig. .--the death of the virgin, plate taken from the _heures_ of simon vostre, printed in . the border is separate.] it may be said that from the artistic association of philip pigouchet and simon vostre was born the art of illustration of the book in france; they worked together for eighteen years, in steady collaboration, and, as far as we know, without a cloud. at vostre's commencement in he lived in the rue neuve notre dame, at the sign of "st. jean l'evangeliste;" and in he was still there, having published more than three hundred editions of the missal, according to the use of the several cities. contemporary with simon vostre, another publisher was giving a singular impulse to the book by his extreme energy, true taste, and the aid of first-class artists. antony verard, the most illustrious of the old french booksellers, was a writer, printer, illuminator, and dealer. born in the second half of the fifteenth century, he established himself in paris on the pont notre dame, both sides of which were then covered with shops, and about commenced his fine editions with a "decameron" in french by laurent de premierfait. m. renouvier remarks in his notice of verard that his first books were not good, the plates were often unskilful, and were probably borrowed or bought from others; this may be very well understood in a beginner whose modest resources did not permit bold enterprises; the figures were in most cases groundworks for miniatures, outlines and sketches rather than vignettes. [illustration: fig. .--border of the _grandes heures_ of antony verard: paris, (?).] antony verard was accustomed to take a certain number of fine copies on vellum or paper of each book published by him, in which authorised painters added miniatures and ornaments. it is curious now to find what the cost to one of the great lords of the court of charles viii. was of one of these special copies in all the details of its impression, and we find it in a document published by m. senemaud in a provincial journal (_bulletin de la société archéologique de la charente_, , part , p. ), which enables us at the same time to penetrate into a printing office of a great french publisher of the fifteenth century. according to this document, verard did not disdain to put his own hand to the work, even to carrying the book to the house of his patron if he were a man of consequence. it is an account of charles de valois-angoulême, father of francis i. he was then living at cognac; and he ordered verard to print separately for him on vellum the romance of tristan, the "book of consolation" of boetius, the _ordinaire du chrétien_, and _heures en françois_, each with illuminations and binding. in the detail of expenses verard omits nothing. he reckons the parchment at three sous four deniers the sheet, the painted and illuminated figures at one écu the large and five sols the small. we give here the outline of one of the plates of the tristan, ordered by the duc d'angoulême, reduced by two-thirds, and from it it may be judged that the profession of the illuminator, even for the time, was by no means brilliant. the binding was in dark-coloured velvet, with two clasps with the arms of the duke, which cost sixty sous each. the work finished, verard took the route for cognac, carrying the precious volumes. he was allowed twenty livres for carriage; and this brings the total to livres sous, equivalent to £ to £ of present money. [illustration: fig. .--plate from the tristan published by antony verard, a copy of which was illuminated for charles of angoulême.] verard had preceded simon vostre in the publication of books of hours, but his first volume dated was not successful for the want of borders and frontispieces. at the most he had introduced figures intended for illumination, which, as well as the vignettes, were cut in wood. in , the same year that simon vostre commenced his publications, verard put forth, by "command of the king our lord," the book called the _grandes heures_, which is in quarto, gothic letter, without paging, twenty lines to the full page. this _grandes heures_ contained fourteen engravings, large borders in four compartments, smaller subjects and initials rubricated by hand. he also published more than two hundred editions between and , and among them the _mystère de la passion_, with eighty figures; the _grandes chroniques_, in three folio volumes, printed by john maurand; the _bataille judaïque_ of flavius josephus; the _legende dorée_ of voragine, all books for which he called to his aid rubricators, illuminators, and miniaturists. from the first he had two shops where he put his productions on sale: one on the pont notre dame, the other at the palace of justice, "au premier pilier devant la chapelle où l'on chante la messe de messeigneurs les présidents." from , when the pont notre dame was burned, verard transported his books to the carrefour st. severin. at his death in he was living in the rue neuve notre dame, "devant nostre-dame de paris." [illustration: fig. .--page of the _grandes heures_ of antony verard: paris, fifteenth century.] besides verard, vostre, and pigouchet, many others will be found who imitated them in the publication of books of hours. the first was john du pré, who published a paris missal in , and who was at once printer and bookseller. like pigouchet, du pré printed books of hours on account of provincial publishers, without dreaming of the competition he was creating for himself. the encroachments of the publishers upon one another, the friendly exchanges, the loans of plates and type, form one of the most curious parts of the study of the book. thielman kerver, a german, also began to put forth books of hours in in paris, ornamenting them with borders and figures on wood, and modelling his work completely upon that of simon vostre. but after having imitated him, he was associated with him in the publication and sale of the paris missal; the competition of these men was evidently an honest one, or the sale of pious works was sufficient to maintain all engaged in it. established on the pont st. michel, at the sign of the "unicorn," he sold his stock to gilles remacle about the beginning of the sixteenth century. thielman kerver in his own works shows himself as the rival of simon vostre. the hardouins, who followed the same profession, do not appear to have attained the success of their predecessors; and, excepting in the _heures à l'usage de rome_, published in by gilles hardouin on the pont au change, at the sign of the "rose," they servilely imitated them. there was also among the disciples of vostre william eustache, bookseller to the king, "tenant la boutique dedans la grant salle du palais du costé de messeigneurs les présidens, ou sur les grans degrés du costé de la conciergerie à l'ymage st. jean levangeliste." eustache made use of the work of pigouchet and kerver, not to mention the printers of the end of the fifteenth century. we have named the principal, the fortunate ones; but what becomes of the crowd of other publishers whose hopes vanished before the success of vostre and verard? there were denis meslier, with his quarto _heures de bourges_, and vincent commin, bookseller of the rue neuve notre dame, who thus appealed to his customers:-- "qui veult en avoir? on en treuve a tres grand marché et bon pris a la rose, dans la rue neuve de nostre-dame de paris." [illustration: fig. .--plate from a book of hours of simon vostre, representing the massacre of the innocents.] there were also robin chaillot, laurent philippe, and a hundred others whose names have died with them or are only preserved on the torn pages of their works. [illustration: fig. .--dance of death, said to be by verard. the pope and the emperor.] [illustration: fig. .--dance of death of guyot marchant in . the pope and the emperor.] but if books of this kind found vogue and a large sale at this epoch, the dealers did not keep to pious publications only. by a singular mixture of the sacred and the profane, the bookmen put on sale on their stalls the "decameron" of boccaccio as well as the "hours of the immaculate virgin," and the purchasers thought fit to make the acquaintance of the one as well as the other. besides, the end of the fifteenth century had its literary preferences, its alluring titles, its attractive frontispieces. at the commencement of the present century double titles--"atala; or, the child of mystery;" "waverley; or, sixty years since"--were common, although now out of fashion. since then came books of travels--_voyages au pays des milliards_, etc. in the fifteenth century, and even since the fourteenth, a series of titles was in public favour. there was first the _débats_, or "dialogues:" _débat de la dame et de l'escuyer_, paris, , folio; "dialogue of dives and pauper," london, richard pynson, ; and many other eccentric titles. there came also thousands of _complaintes_, a kind of lay in verse or prose; _blasons_, light pieces describing this or that thing; _doctrinals_, that had nothing to do with doctrine. and among the most approved subjects, between the piety of some and the gaiety of others, the dances of death established themselves firmly, showing, according to the hierarchy of classes then prevalent, death taking the great ones of the earth, torturing equally pope, emperor, constable, or minstrel, grimacing before youth, majesty, and love. long before printing appeared, the dances of death took the lead; they were some consolation for the wretched against their powerful masters, the revenge of the rabble against the king; they may be seen painted, sculptured, illuminated, when engraving was not there to multiply their use; they may be seen largely displayed on walls, sombre, frightful, at dresden, leipzig, erfurt, berne, lucerne, rouen, amiens, and chaise-dieu. it was the great human equality, attempted first by the french, then by the inimitable holbein. we can imagine the impression these bitter ironies made on the oppressed and disdained lower classes. the first "dance of death" was produced by guyot marchant in , in ten leaves and seventeen engravings, in folio, with gothic characters. marchant describes himself as "demeurant en champ gaillart à paris le vingt-huitiesme jour de septembre mil quatre cent quatre-vingtz et cinq." the book must have gone off rapidly, for it was republished in the following year, with additions and new engravings. french illustration was already moving forward, as may be judged by the reproductions here given from the folio edition of . pope and emperor, glory and power, are led and plagued by death, hideous death, with open body and frightful grin. we could wish that the tendencies and processes of what may be called the second generation of printers were well understood. in a few years they surmounted the difficulties of their art, and made the book a model of elegance and simplicity. the smallest details were cared for, and things apparently the most insignificant were studied and rendered practical. speaking of titles, an enormous progress was here made in the publications of the end of the century. in italy the subjects of decoration ordinarily formed a framework for the front page, wherein were included useful indications. the most ancient specimen of this kind has already been referred to. a model of this species is the "st. jerome," published at ferrara by lorenzo rossi, of valenza, in , folio; the title, much adorned, is in gothic letters; the engraved initial is very adroitly left in outline, so as not to burden or break the text. in germany there was already the appearance of bad taste and prodigality, the letters crossing each other, the gothic type covered with bizarre appendices, the titles intricate; later they became illegible even for the germans. [illustration: fig. .--typographical mark of thielman kerver.] in france the first page gave the most circumstantial indications of the contents of the work, the name and abode of the printer and bookseller. often these titles were ornamented with movable frameworks, printed in gothic, sometimes in two colours, which necessitated two printings, one for the black and one for the red ink. the mark of the printer or publisher generally appeared, and it was nearly always a charming work. these french marks were all more or less treated heraldically; that is to say, the initials occupy a shield, sustained by supporters and cut with extreme care. the first was that of fust and schoeffer at mayence, of admirable simplicity and grace. in france this early specimen of the trade mark took with simon vostre and verard the shape of delicate illustrations, finely designed and carefully engraved; but the custom of allusive marks did not prevail, as we shall have occasion to see, until the sixteenth century. the mark of pigouchet has already been given; that of thielman kerver is conceived in the same principles of taste and art. the sign of his house being the "unicorn," kerver took as supporters to his shield two unicorns _affrontées_. in these colophons are found philosophic aphorisms, satirical remarks, marvels of poetry. a certain bookseller paid court to the powerful university, which dispensed glory and riches to the poor tradesmen by buying many books. andrew bocard engraved on his mark this flattery as a border:-- "honneur au roy et à la court, salut à l'université dont nostre bien procède et sourt. dieu gart de paris la cité!" the germans introduced into their colophons some vainglorious notices. arnold ther hoernen, already mentioned, who printed the _theutonista_ at cologne in , boasted in it of having corrected it all with his own hands. jean treschel, established at lyons in , proclaims himself a german, because the germans were the inventors of an art that he himself possessed to an eminent degree. he prided himself on being what we may call a skilled typographer; "virum hujus artis solertissimum," he writes without false modesty. at times, in the colophons of his books, he attempted latin verse, the sapphic verse of horace, of a playful turn, to say that his work was perfected in . "arte et expensis vigilique cura treschel explevit opus hoc joannes, mille quingentos ubi christus annos sex minus egit. jamque lugduni juvenes, senesque, martias nonas celebres agebant magna reginæ quia prepotenti festa parabant." [illustration: fig. .--frontispiece to terence, published by treschel at lyons in . the author writing his book.] the portrait is another element of illustration, the figure of the author prefixed to his work. it had already been a custom in the manuscripts to paint on the first leaf of the work the likeness of him who composed it, frequently in the act of presenting his book to some noble patron; and in this way is often preserved the only known portrait of either patron or author. printing and engraving rendered these effigies more common, the portraits of one often served for another, and the booksellers used them without very much scruple. as we shall see later, this became in the sixteenth century a means of illustrating a book plainly, but only at the time when the portrait, drawn or painted, commenced to be more widely used. previously the _clichés_ of which we speak went everywhere, from the italians to the french, from Æsop to accursius; these uncertain physiognomies began with the manuscript romances of chivalry, from whence they were servilely copied in typography. from the first the italians mixed the ancient and the modern. thus in a _breviarium_, printed in , there is an engraved portrait of paul florentin. on the same principle, the portrait of burchiello, an early italian poet, was later reproduced in england as a likeness of william caxton. in france the author is often represented writing, and it was so up to the middle of the sixteenth century. in an edition of _des cas des nobles hommes_, by jean dupré, in , boccaccio is represented seated, having before him his french translator, laurent de premierfait. this plate is one of the oldest representations of authors in french books. in the _roman de la rose_, first edition of paris and lyons, in folio, probably published by william leroy about , william de lorris, the author, is shown in his bed:-- "une nuyt comme je songeoye, et de fait dormir me convient, en dormant un songe m'advint...." [illustration: fig. .--woodcut from caxton's "game and playe of the chesse."] there is also a portrait of alain chartier in his _faits_, printed in . in the terence of treschel, of lyons, in , we see a grammarian of the fifteenth century in a furnished room of the time occupied in writing at a desk; this is guy jouvenal, of mans, the author of the commentary. [illustration: fig. .--the knight, a woodcut from caxton's "game and playe of the chesse."] while this good work was progressing so nobly in france, italy, and germany, the typographers of england were by no means idle, although the illustration of the book in the fifteenth century was not there so forward. william caxton had produced over sixty works, the colophons of many of them revealing much of the personal life and character of the first english printer. some of them were ornamented with woodcuts; we reproduce two from the "game and playe of the chesse," printed in folio, about . the first represents a king and another person playing at chess; the smaller cut is a representation of the knight, who is thus described in caxton's own words: "the knyght ought to be maad al armed upon an hors in suche wise that he have an helme on his heed and a spere in his right hond, and coverid with his shelde, a swerde and a mace on his left syde, clad with an halberke and plates tofore his breste, legge harnoys on his legges, spores on his heelis, on hys handes hys gauntelettes, hys hors wel broken and taught, and apte to bataylle, and coveryd with hys armes." the other caxton block which we reproduce is a representation of music from the "mirrour of the world," a thin folio volume of one hundred leaves printed in , with thirty-eight woodcuts. these specimens will serve to show the rudimentary character of english wood engraving in the fifteenth century. no authentic portrait of caxton is known, and the one that is generally accepted is really a portrait of an italian poet, burchiello, taken from an octavo edition of his work on tuscan poetry, printed ; this was copied by faithorne for sir hans sloane as the portrait of caxton, and was reproduced by ames in his "typographical antiquities," . lewis prefixed the portrait here given to his "life of mayster willyam caxton," , which is a copy of faithorne's drawing with some alterations. john lettou and william machlinia issued various statutes and other legal works. [illustration: fig. .--music, a woodcut from caxton's "mirrour of the world."] [illustration: fig. .--william caxton, from rev. j. lewis' "life."] [illustration: fig. .--mark of wynken de worde.] wynken de worde continued printing up to , and issued over four hundred works. he used no less than nine different marks, all of them bearing caxton's initials, evidencing the regard of the pupil for his master; the mark which we reproduce is one of rare occurrence. richard pynson began in , and continued well into the sixteenth century, and was one of the first of the "privileged" printers, authorised to issue the legal and parliamentary publications. one of the marks used by him is here reproduced. julian notary began in . the only style of illustration used by any of these early printers was the woodcut, and of this there was very little beyond the title-page and printer's mark. the artistic form of the book originated on the continent, but england was not slow to adopt it and fashion it to her own ends. [illustration: fig. .--mark of richard pynson.] thus was printing spread abroad, carrying with it to the countries where it was established the rules of an unchangeable principle; but, according to its surroundings, it was so transformed in a few years that its origin was no longer recognised. it was light in italy, heavy in germany, gay in france. painting, of which it was accidentally the issue, returned to it under the form of illustration a short time after its first and fruitful essays. the gothic character, generally used in germany, continued in france with the vostres, the verards, and others up to the middle of the sixteenth century, although the first artisans before this used roman type; it was also the prevailing type used in english books. in italy it was jenson, a frenchman, who gave to the matrix the alphabet preserved to the present time; and it was the venetians and florentines who learned before all others the art of judicious ornamentation of the book. the french came very near perfection, thanks to their printers and booksellers, at the end of the century; and the germans found illustrious artists to scatter their compositions in their large, heavy works. [illustration] chapter iii. to . french epics and the renaissance--venice and aldus manutius--italian illustrators--the germans: _theuerdanck_, schäufelein--the book in other countries--french books at the beginning of the century, before the accession of francis i.--geoffroy tory and his works--francis i. and the book--robert estienne--lyons a centre of bookselling; holbein's dances of death--school of basle--alciati's emblems and the illustrated books of the middle of the century--the school of fontainebleau and its influence--solomon bernard--cornelis de la haye and the _promptuaire_--john cousin--copper plate engraving and metal plates--woériot--the portrait in the book of the sixteenth century--how a book was illustrated on wood at the end of the century--influence of plantin on the book; his school of engravers--general considerations--progress in england--coverdale's bible--english printers and their work--engraved plates in english books our simple division into chapters will be understood without difficulty as not corresponding exactly with the most momentous epochs in the history of the book in france and abroad. doubtless it would be easy for france alone to find some limits and to furnish scholastic formulæ by which contemporary publishers might be grouped. but in order to present, as in a synoptical table, an essential and abridged sketch of the book in all european countries, it appeared to us more convenient to begin with the confused and tangled notions by centuries and to unfold in our review the characteristic facts of each country conjointly. moreover, after the sixteenth century neither italy nor germany could compare with france, which, less fortunate, perhaps, at the beginning than her neighbours, surpassed them in all the pride of her genius. the commencement of the sixteenth century found the french army in italy, under the command of louis xii. marching from glory to glory, the french successively saw pisa, capua, and naples, and that which has since been called the renaissance displayed itself little by little to the conquerors. at venice was living aldus pius manutius, then the greatest printer of the entire world. aldus was proprietor of the celebrated printing office of nicholas jenson, through his father-in-law, andrea torresani, of asola, who acquired it on the death of the french printer; and he had in a few years reached a position in which he was without a rival. we have seen that he composed, at the end of the fifteenth century, the admirable volume _hypnerotomachia_, the renown of which became universal. aldus was fifty-two years of age, having been born in ; and his learning was increased by daily intercourse with learned italians, among them the celebrated pico de la mirandola. his establishment at venice in had for its object the creation of a chair in greek, in which language he was well instructed from his youth. occupied with the idea of issuing editions of the principal greek writers, which up to then remained in manuscript, he engaged himself in the formation of a printing office. he first published the _herone et leandro_ of musæus in , quarto, in a greek character apparently designed by him, and perhaps engraved by francisco da bologna; then the greek grammar of constantine lascaris, with the date of ; and the works of aristotle in five folio volumes. at the time of the italian wars aldus was making a revolution in typography, by producing more practical sizes and finer characters, which would permit a volume of the smallest height to contain the matter of a folio printed with large type. legend says that the new letters were copied exactly from the handwriting of petrarch, inclining like all cursive writing; the name of _italic_ was given to this character, which was also called _aldine_, from its inventor. it was engraved by francisco da bologna. aldus published in octavo size, with this kind of letter, an edition of virgil in , then a horace, a juvenal, a martial, and a petrarch in the same year. the following year, , he gave an edition of the _terze rime_ of dante, and for the first time took as his typographical mark an anchor encircled by a dolphin.[a] [footnote a: tory in his _champfleury_ explains thus the mark of aldus and his device, which was in greek the "make haste slowly" of boileau: "the anchor signifies tardiness, and the dolphin haste, which is to say that in his business he was moderate."] [illustration: fig. .--the anchor and dolphin, mark of aldus manutius, after the original in the _terze rime_ of , where it appears for the first time.] his marriage with the daughter of andrea torresani, of asola, brought together into his possession two printing houses. the burden became too heavy for manutius to think henceforth of publishing by himself. besides, the wars did not allow him any repose, of which he bitterly complained in his prefaces. he attracted learned greek scholars, who supervised, each one in his specialty, the works in progress, and founded a society, an aldine academy, in which the greatest names of the epoch were united. aldus conveys the perfect idea of a great printer of those times, doing honour to celebrated men, in spite of business preoccupations and of the annoyance caused by the war. it is said that erasmus, passing through venice, called on him, and not making himself known, was badly received by the powerful printer. all at once, at the name of the distinguished visitor, aldus, overwhelmed for an instant, rose in great haste and showed him how highly he appreciated men of letters. the war finished by ruining this state of affairs. in aldus quitted venice to travel, and on his return found it poorer than when he went away. andrea d'asola, his father-in-law, came to his aid; but the great printer had received his death-blow; and in spite of the activity which he brought to the new establishment, he further declined until , when he expired, leaving an inextricable confusion to his son paul. he had early abandoned illustration for the scientific and useful in his publications; besides, the size of book chosen by him did not admit of plates; but other publishers employed artists in the ornamentation of the book. lucantonio giunta, the most celebrated among them, was printer and engraver, a striking example of the affinity of the two trades from their origin. in lucantonio zonta, as he then spelt his name, published a roman breviary in large quarto, with twelve engravings in the lombardo-venetian manner, signed "l. a.," in very good style. the same artist-publisher cut a portrait of virgil for an edition of that poet about . furthermore, giunta did not alone illustrate the book from his own office. other designers lent him their assistance. we find evidence of this in the bible printed by him in in small octavo. [illustration: fig. .--mark of lucantonio giunta, of venice.] the most meritorious of the artists of venice at this time was john andrea, known as guadagnino. he designed the vignettes for florus's epitome of livy, printed at venice for melchior sessa and peter of ravenna ( , folio); in he copied the plates of dürer's _apocalypse_ for that of alexander paganini, of venice. a venetian work which signalised the beginning of the sixteenth century was the _trionfo di fortuna_ of sigismond fanti, of ferrara, printed by agostino da portese in . venice was the home of titian, and at the present time the great artist was at the height of his glory. in two brothers, nicholas and dominic dal gesù, published a translation of the celebrated "golden legend" of voragine. the plates which were added to the work were manifestly inspired by the school of the venetian master. unhappily the engravers have not always equalled the genius of the drawings. to resume, the city of venice was, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, one of the most prolific in publishers and artists of talent. since the first establishments of the germans, typography had successively employed in venice nicholas jenson, a frenchman, inventor of the roman character; erhard ratdolt, the first to employ illustration there; and aldus manutius, scholar and printer, whose progress in printing elevated that art to the highest rank among human discoveries; there were also remarkable engravers and draughtsmen, among others guadagnino and giunta, besides the anonymous masters of the school of titian. the part of venice in the movement, then, was great, but it may be explained by the riches of its citizens, the extent of its commerce, and the genius it possessed. if we now return from venice to the north, to milan, the school of leonardo da vinci will make itself apparent in the book. in order of date we will mention the _mysterii gesta beatæ veronicæ virginis_, published by gotardo de ponte , small quarto, with figures in the style of luini, and vitruvius in italian by cesariano. on the testimony of the author, the wood engravings in a book of fra luca pacioli, _de divina proportione_, are attributed to leonardo da vinci. m. delaborde does not believe this, but m. passavant does. [illustration: fig. .--title of the _theuerdanck_. the flourishes of the letters are printed.] in germany, nuremberg continued, with albert dürer and the artists of his school, to furnish book illustrations at the beginning of the century. the master reprinted his valuable engravings of the "life of the virgin" in , and also the "apocalypse." but after him the art commenced to decline; a hundred years later nothing remained of the honour and glory gained by germany in the commencement. among the most interesting of the nuremberg publications is a chivalric poem by melchior pfinzfing, composed for the marriage of maximilian and mary of burgundy. as m. delaborde in his _débuts de i'imprimerie_ well remarks, this is not a book destined for sale by a bookseller; it is a work of art destined by an emperor for his friends, and he saw that it was an unapproachable work. [illustration: fig. .--plate taken from the _theuerdanck_, representing maximilian and mary of burgundy. engraved on wood after schäufelein.] bold strokes, majestic letters, intertwined ornaments, are here multiplied. three persons worked upon it for five years; these were, peutinger says, hans leonard schäufelein, the painter, jost necker, the engraver, and schönsperger, the printer of augsburg, who quitted his native city for nuremberg. when they were able to take a proof, craftsmen were unwilling to believe it to be a book composed in movable characters; they were sure, on the contrary, that it was a true xylograph, cut in wood; and, in fact, from the title here reproduced, the error was excusable. this work, which is now called the _theuerdanck_, from the name of the hero of the romance, is ornamented with a number of wood engravings, numbered by arabic figures. we reproduce one of the last plates, in which theuerdanck--maximilian--is introduced to the queen--mary of burgundy. the designs of schäufelein recall very nearly the work of albert dürer, his master; but, as we said of him, these works, heavy and dull, although very clever, do not always suit as vignettes. again, our criticism does not extend so much to the _theuerdanck_, whose letters, excessively ornamented and much flattened, furnish a framework more suitable for the engravings than would a more slender character, which would be completely overshadowed by the german plate. when we have mentioned the _passional christi_ of lucas cranach, published by j. grünenberg at wittemberg in --twenty-six mediocre wood engravings--we shall have cited the most important of the interesting and rare volumes published in germany at the commencement of the sixteenth century. the netherlands, spain, and england were working, but without great success. in the low countries plantin and his gigantic enterprises may be recalled. in spain the taste had not yet developed itself; and although the drawing of illustrations may be careful enough, the wood-cutting is pitiable. we will mention the seneca of toledo in , and the "chronicle of aragon" in . of england we will speak later. in france, on the contrary, we find an enormous commerce in books at the commencement of the sixteenth century. all the publishers mentioned in the preceding chapter were still living, and they were feeling the effects of the french conquests in italy. the dithyrambic literature then inaugurated, and which had its origin under louis xii., exercised a bad influence equally upon the printers and decorators of the book. doubtless the composition of the text and engravings was done hastily, for the great people did not like to wait for this kind of history. _le vergier d'honneur_, written by octavian de st. gelais and andry de la vigne, was thus published about the end of the fifteenth century and ornamented with hasty vignettes, probably at the expense of antoine verard. upon the accession to the throne of louis xii., claude de seyssel, his master of council, composed _les louenges du roy louis xii._, and soon after translated it from latin into french for the same verard, who printed it in . the taste for historical works induced the publishers to produce _la mer des histoires_, which had already been published in the fifteenth century; thielman kerver put forth the "compendium" of robert gaguin in on account of durand gerlier and john petit. the french version of this work was given in by galliot du pré, with vignettes, and afterwards under the name of _mirouer historial_, by renaud chaudière in , by nyverd, and others; the same with the _rozier historial_, with figures, in and . among the most popular works was the _illustrations de la gaule et singularitez de troye_, by john le maire de belges, printed in paris and ornamented. in it was published by geoffroy de marnef, in by john and gilbert de marnef, by regnault, by philip le noir, and others, always in the gothic characters which prevailed in france at the beginning of the sixteenth century. we give from the curious book of john le maire an interesting woodcut representing queen anne of brittany as juno, in which we can without much difficulty see a remarkable sketch by a bourdichon or a perréal. the truly french style of this figure leaves no doubt as to its origin. at the same time, it may possibly have been inspired by the virgin of a german master, say one of , judging from the accessories, and even from the pose. this engraving will be found in the edition of of gilbert de marnef, in gothic letter, quarto. on the reverse are the arms and device of john le maire de belges. [illustration: fig. .--vignette taken from the _illustrations de la gaule et singularitez de troye_. queen anne of brittany as juno.] the time that elapsed from the death of louis xi. until the accession of francis i.--that is to say, from to --was, to employ an old expression, the golden age of french printing and illustration. under charles viii. and louis xii. the designers on wood were not yet affected by the neighbouring schools; neither the accentuated italian influence nor the german processes had reached them; they did in their own way that which came to them, and they did it in their own fashion and habit, without foreign influence. further, the kings did not ignore them, and louis xii. preserved to the printers of the university all their rights and privileges in a magniloquent ordinance, in which the art of typography was extolled in the highest terms. it restores to them all the advantages that they had lost. it recites, "in consideration of the great benefit that has come to our kingdom by means of the art and science of printing, the invention of which seems more divine than human, which, thanks to god, has been invented and found in our time by the help and industry of booksellers, by which our holy catholic faith has been greatly augmented and strengthened, justice better understood and administered, and divine service more honourably and diligently made, said, and celebrated, ... by means of which our kingdom precedes all others," etc., etc. (blois, th april, ). certainly louis made the best of himself and his kingdom in this preamble, but it must be recognised that france already held a predominant rank in the new industry, and that beyond the italians she had no fear of serious rivalry. the school of ornamentists made constant progress. before the books of hours, the booksellers contented themselves with miserable blocks, placed side by side, forming a framework of good and bad together; but after simon vostre, verard, and the others they were singularly refined. the borders, at least in the books of hours, had become the principal part of the book; they had in them flowers, architectural, complicated, and simple subjects, all of perfect taste and extreme elegance; and, as we have observed in the representation of anne of brittany in the _illustrations de la gaule_, the figure subjects were no longer mechanical, commonplace, and tiresome blocks, but, on the contrary, more often works specially designed and engraved by artists of merit. [illustration: fig. .--title of the _entree d'eléonore d'autriche a paris_, by guillaume bochetel. printed by geoffroy tory in may, , quarto.] geoffroy tory, born at bourges in , continued after vostre and verard the onward march of illustration of the book. he was a sort of encyclopædist, who knew and foresaw everything, but with a singularly subtler and finer genius than his predecessors. there is now very little doubt that at first tory was an engraver and printer. moreover, he published with jean petit one of his first volumes, the geography of pomponius mela, printed by gilles de gourmont in . tory was then an erudite and diffusive commentator. later he published a book with poor engravings (_valerii probi grammatici opusculum_, ), waiting until his good star should place him on the right road. he had for his mark, say the bibliographers, the cross of lorraine [symbol: double cross], small enough to be lost in the ornamentation of his plates. really this sign is found in tory's mark--the "pot cassé"--the broken jar--and also sometimes in the letter g, which was his ordinary signature. this opinion, which we will not try to contradict in a popular work like this, appears to us to err, as others used this mark, as may be judged from the essentially different touches of engravings bearing the cross of lorraine, and particularly those of woériot in the middle of the century. if m. a. bernard[a] may be credited, geoffroy tory cultivated all the sciences with equal success. for our purpose, suffice it to recognise his right to one of the first places in the art of decoration of books of hours. doubtless his travels in italy had contributed to modify his taste and to detach him a little from the sober and simple manner that then characterised french engraving; but he nevertheless preserved the indelible traces of the origin of his art, in the same way as some people cannot correct their provincial accent. the _heures de la vierge_, which he designed, and which he had engraved about , on account of simon de colines, is marvellously surrounded by ornaments, until then unknown in france; at the same time, and in spite of other tendencies, it is purely a french work, and the specimen given here is a convincing proof. [footnote a: _geoffroy tory, peintre et graveur, premier imprimeur royal, réformateur de l'orthographe et de la typographie_: paris, , vo.] [illustration: fig. .--full page of the _heures_ of simon de colines, by tory.] [illustration: fig. .--_heures_ of geoffroy tory. the circumcision.] [illustration: fig. .--_heures_ of simon de colines, with the mark of the cross of lorraine.] geoffroy tory composed a curious book, as poetic as learned, in which he studied at once the form of the letter from the typographic and the emblematic point of view, and also the french orthography of the time. he tells us himself that he was brought to commence this book on the fête-day of the kings, , when, after a frugal repast, he was, he says, "dreaming on my bed and revolving my memory, thinking of a thousand little fancies, serious and mirthful, among which i thought of some antique letters that i had made for monseigneur the treasurer for war, master jehan grolier, councillor and secretary of our lord the king, amateur of fine letters and of all learned personages." tory called his book _champfleury, auquel est contenu l'art et science de la deue proportion des lettres ... selon le corps et le visage humain_, and he published it himself in small folio, putting upon it the sign of gilles de gourmont, in . at heart tory had been fascinated by the theories of dürer on the proportions of the human body; and he says, "the noble german painter albert dürer is greatly to be praised that he has so well brought to light his art of painting in designing geometrical forms, the ramparts of war, and the proportions of the human body." he wished to indicate the true measure of letters to his contemporaries, "the number of points and turns of the compass that each one requires." the most amusing part of this curious treatise is his short academical preface, where, under a playful form, the great publisher studies the orthography of his time, and exclaims against the forgers of new words, the latinisers of the language, "the skimmers of latin, jesters and gibberers, ... who mock not only their shadows, but themselves." the entire passage was copied by rabelais, nearly literally, and it indicates that its author was possessed of good sense, which, unhappily, all his contemporaries were not. for the technical part, he added to his theories a number of designs of geometrical letters, but he was carried away, after the fashion of the time, by greek and roman models, perhaps a little further than he meant, losing himself in the midst of idle dissertations. to these geometrical engravings he added small and charming figures, said to be by jean perréal, as well as emblematical letters of the nature of the y which is here given, with explanatory text and commentary. to him this y had two branches: one of virtue and one of vice; that of virtue shows palms, crowns, a sceptre, and a book; that of vice birches, a gallows, and fire. [illustration: fig. .--emblematical letter y, taken from the _champfleury_ of geoffroy tory.] with the importance that cannot be denied to his works, geoffroy tory founded a school; and it was from his workshop that the plates came for the book of paulus jovius on the dukes of milan, published by robert estienne in , quarto. the portraits of the dukes in this work have been attributed to tory himself, but he died in , and there is not the least indication that he engraved these sixteen portraits with his own hand sixteen years before their publication. besides, our doubts as to the cross of lorraine being the exclusive signature of tory, as has been believed, lead us to think it the collective mark of a workshop, as we meet it on works long after the death of the master. as a proof, the mark is found on the engravings of _l'entrée du roi à paris_ in , which cannot be taken as a posthumous work of tory, for these engravings had their origin at a certain and special date. but in spite of the absence of the monogram, the admirable block from the diodorus siculus of antoine macault might, from its design and engraving, be considered as by tory himself. holbein, who, about the same time, designed a somewhat similar scene, the king of france seated on a throne receiving poison from the hands of death, never did anything better. within the scanty proportions of the design, all the figures are portraits. duprat, montmorency and the three sons of the king may be recognised; macault, on the left, is reading his translation to a circle of nobles and men of letters. this admirable page is one of the truest and most skilful of the monuments of french engraving; it is equal to the best inventions of holbein, and it marks the culminating point of the illustration of the book before the exaggerations of the school of fontainebleau. geoffroy tory was not the publisher. the diodorus siculus, doubtless prepared two or three years before, was not published until , in quarto, with his ordinary mark of the "pot cassé." [illustration: fig. .--macault reading to francis i. his translation of diodorus siculus. wood engraving attributed to tory.] we have now arrived through him at the reign of francis i., who was called the father of letters, and who for various reasons favoured the arts. doubtless grand paintings and the decoration of the royal palaces interested him more than vignettes in books and the efforts of printers; but, at the same time, books occupied him. he studied much, and in his travels accumulated many volumes. an account in the french national archives shows that claude chappuis, his librarian, packed entire cases, which were sent to dauphiné at the time of the wars of piedmont, the carriage costing twenty livres tournois. francis had, moreover, following sudden impulses, curious fits of wantonness and mischief. it was perceived a little later that the doctrines of luther were propagated by the book; and the sorbonne was up in arms, on the pretence of imposing its own expurgated text of the bible on the publishers and tolerating no other. theodore beza, enemy of the sorbonnists, said with regard to this (we translate the antique french literally), "our great doctors with cherubic visage have forbidden men to see the holy bible in vulgar language, of which every one has knowledge, because, they say, the desire of knowing everything engenders nothing but error, fear, and care. _arguo sic_, if they so, for its abuse, wish to take away this book, it is clear also that it is their duty to put away the wine with which each of them makes himself drunk." [illustration: fig. .--robert estienne, after the engraving in the _chronologie collée_.] this piece is only cited to show to what lengths matters had gone, thanks to printing. it is very certain that all the pamphlets, placards, and other horrors published to raise religious warfare, did not aid in the progress of the book. the king was not always disinterested on the technical question; books merited encouragement, at least as much as castigation, and besides, as time passed, they gradually transformed men and ideas. in spite of apparent severities, was not the king himself a little touched by contact with the new religion, like his sister marguerite, or his sister-in-law, renée of ferrara? however that may be, he twice showed himself a resolute partisan of the celebrated robert estienne, son-in-law and associate of simon de colines, whose works in point of erudition and typography assumed day by day more importance. robert estienne had the great honour of being chosen from all his contemporaries by king francis as the royal printer. this prince had ordered to be engraved for him by claude garamond, after the design of ange vergèce, the first cutter of matrices of his time, a special greek character in three sizes, which was used in to compose the "ecclesiastical history" of eusebius. these are the famous royal types--_typi regii_--as estienne did not fail to indicate on the title-pages of his works. it has been said since that francis i. founded the royal printing house, but the truth is that estienne kept these characters in his own office for use in the royal editions; they may now be seen in the imprimerie nationale at paris. robert estienne married the daughter of josse badius, of asch--badius ascencianus, one of the first parisian typographers of the time. we reproduce the mark of badius, representing the interior of a printing house, and shall return in a special chapter to the functions of these workshops. meantime it appears proper to present to the reader a printing office of the time of robert estienne and geoffroy tory. [illustration: fig. .--printing office of josse badius at the commencement of the sixteenth century.] robert estienne does not appear to have concerned himself much about the decoration of the book. the purity of the text and the characters were essentials with him, erudition, and not art. he published many works in latin and greek, among them the _thesaurus_, a great latin dictionary published in , also a bible, with notes by vatable, revised by leon de juda. from that came trouble. leon de juda was a partisan of zwingli; the sorbonne accused the bible of leaning towards the huguenots; francis i. took the part of estienne, but when that prince died estienne fled to geneva, where he was accused of having imported the royal types. the truth was that he simply imported the matrices. [illustration: fig. .--portrait of nicholas bourbon. wood engraving of the commencement of the sixteenth century.] at this time everything served for the decoration of the book: portraits, blazons, topographical plates, costumes, and emblems. small portraits engraved on wood usually ornamented the works of the poets, like that of nicholas bourbon, for example, marvel of truth and skill. the blocks of frontispieces in the folios were multiplied; large initial letters, ingeniously engraved and stippled, like that at the commencement of this chapter, were used. jacques kerver reproduced in for himself, and with plates made for him, the famous _songe de poliphile_, published by aldus in . the widow of the publisher denis janot, jeanne de marnef, published one of the most delightful books of the time, _l'amour de cupidon et de psyche_ of apuleius, with delicious figures in wood after italian engravings. many more could be named in the extraordinary profusion of charming books. [illustration: fig. .--king and death. vignette from the "dance of death" by holbein.] without entering into detail, something must be said of lyons, then a most extensive and prosperous centre of bookselling. lyons had the signal honour of publishing first in france the celebrated cuts of the "dance of death" of holbein, the basle painter. doubtless treschel, the printer, was not the first, as a copy of a german edition is known, because in the lyons edition the cuts are worn and broken. however, the cabinet d'estampes of paris has some of the figures of the dance with a german text, probably printed by froben at basle. treschel's title was _les simulachres et historiées faces de la mort autant elegamment pourtraictes que artificiellement imaginées_, and the volume in quarto was printed by frelon. the _icones veteris testamenti_, which preceded the publication of the "dance of death," had also been printed at basle before lyons. with holbein, as with geoffroy tory, we arrive at the zenith of illustration and marvellous skill of the engraver. if we were to institute comparisons, it was hans lutzelburger who cut the blocks after the designs of the basle master, but, contrary to what generally happens, the translator reaches almost to the height of his model; the line is perfection itself, it is precise and intelligent, simple, and, above all, explicit. if the work of lutzelburger be admitted, it must also be admitted that holbein designed his cuts before , date of the death of the basle engraver; but it was precisely before that holbein lived in basle, and it was after he had travelled. we will add nothing to the universal praise of the book of treschel, of lyons; everything has been written of holbein, and repetitions are unnecessary. we would ask the reader to compare the francis i. of tory and the king in holbein's "dance of death;" there is a certain family resemblance between the two cuts, which is a singular honour for tory. at the commencement of the century basle had a school of _formschneiders_ working for export. besides the numerous products used at lyons, it had also a trade in wood blocks, which, having been used, were afterwards sold. among these exchanges of engravings were many plates of brandt's "ship of fools," sold in to galliot du pré, publisher, of paris, who used them in the _eloge de la folie_ of erasmus. the reign of francis i. saw a great advance in the national art of illustration. the arrival at the court of italian artists of the decadence, such as rosso and primaticcio, produced a revolution in taste. the exaggerated slightness of the figures brought by these artists from beyond the alps was considered as of supreme distinction; in their twisted draperies and mannered poses was seen a precious beauty that tempted the ready intelligence of the court of france. the simple and ingenuous figures of the old french artists were ranked among the refuse of another age, and their compositions were regarded with contempt, and deemed antique. the rage for emblems and for allegories and mythological figures generally was well suited to these eccentric and bizarre inventions. from another side, an entire class of artists or artisans, book illustrators first, then enamellers and jewellers, made use of these italian models, with which the king encumbered his galleries, and which, at great expense, covered the walls of fontainebleau. one can understand what these skilful men made of such a movement and of so thoughtless an infatuation. the publishers saw the demand, and composed works of which the sale was assured by the subjects that they furnished to other designers. this explains the quantity of alciati's "emblems" and ovid's "metamorphoses" published at lyons and paris, and copied and recopied a hundred times by the art industries of the time. without it the enormous success of mediocre productions, as the "emblems," for example, in which the meaning of the enigma or rebus cannot always be seized, is ill understood. it was alciati who made this literature the fashion. he was a sort of epicurean and miserly jurisconsult, who had as many lords and masters on earth, as the kings and princes who liked to bid against each other to engage him. he had quitted italy, seduced by the offers of francis i., but when sforza paid him a larger sum, he returned, giving as reason for his vacillation that the sun had to travel the earth and warm it by its rays; this was an emblematic answer, for his emblems had all the coarse, sceptical humour which not a few had then already discovered. at most these philosophical aphorisms, if we take them seriously, have their droll side in that their author often practised the reverse of his teaching. a miser, he abuses the avaricious; flying his country for the love of gain, he blames those to whom "a better condition is offered by strangers." yet he is sometimes logical and consistent, as when he assures us that "poverty hinders the success of intelligence," and when, finally, lover of good cheer, he died of indigestion in . [illustration: fig. .--page of the "metamorphoses" of ovid, by petit bernard. edition of .] his book of "emblems" had a vogue that lasted until the seventeenth century, and repetitions were infinitely multiplied: at paris by wechel in ; at lyons by hans de tornes, of suabia, one of the greatest lyons publishers; by roville, also one of the first lyons publishers, and by bonhomme; at venice by the alduses; in fact, everywhere, translated into french, spanish, and italian. bernard salomon, called _le petit bernard_, born at lyons, was one of the designers of the school of fontainebleau--that is to say, of the franco-italian school of which we have spoken above--who furnished many of the engravings for books printed at lyons. he illustrated the edition of alciati's "emblems" published by bonhomme in ; and designed skilful little plates, which, with the text, were surrounded by a border from the workshop of geoffroy tory, for ovid's "metamorphoses," published by hans de tornes in . bernard had all the defects and all the qualities of those of his time, from john cousin to the least of them; he was a primaticcio on a small scale, but agreeably so. his designs for the new testament were also very careful, but in them more than elsewhere the manner and the affectation of the school of fontainebleau are apparent. [illustration: fig. .--portraits of madeleine, queen of scotland, and of marguerite, duchess of savoy, after the originals of cornelis of lyons.] [illustration: fig. .--portraits of francis, dauphin, and of charles, duke of angoûleme, after the originals of cornelis of lyons. woodcuts taken from roville's _promptuaire des médailles_.] the workshops of the second city of france, we see, had at this time attained considerable importance; but before the books of which we shall speak, roville published two anonymous books, one _l'entrée du roi henri ii. à lyon_, in , ornamented with very graceful woodcuts, the other the _promptuaire des médailles_, comprising a series of charming portraits under the pretence of reproductions from the antique. the designs of the _entrée_ are often attributed to john cousin, as it is a rule with certain amateurs to give a known name to a work; but it must be remembered that lyons then had celebrated artists, petit-bernard, alluded to above, and cornelis de la haye, of whom we have more to say; and it is not necessary to go to paris or to rome to find the author of these illustrations. [illustration: fig. .--captain of foot from the _entree de henri ii. à lyon_ ( ).] cornelis de la haye was a painter who executed nearly the same work as francis clouet in paris, portraits on panel, in a clear and harmonious tone, then much the fashion. during a journey of the king, he had, if brantôme may be credited, portrayed the entire court, keeping the sketches for himself. ten or fifteen years after, catherine de medicis, passing through lyons, saw these portraits and highly praised them, recognising the old costumes, astonished at the courtiers of the day, whom she had never seen in such dress. this artist is now known, thanks to various works that have been found, among others two portraits of the sons of francis i., preserved by gaignières, who attributed them resolutely to cornelis, doubtless on the faith of inscriptions that have disappeared. both of them were engraved on wood at lyons and published in roville's book the _promptuaire des médailles_, mentioned above, with small differences of detail altogether insignificant. it is not impossible then that cornelis designed these portraits, and that they were drawn on wood after the cabinet models spoken of by brantôme. the delicate figures of the _promptuaire_ are the work of a master; and the differences mentioned are those of the artist, not of the copyist, who would not be permitted to change anything. it is the first time, we believe, that these comparisons have been made; they will perhaps help the learned lyonnais to pierce the mystery, but in any case our suppositions are more honourable to cornelis de la haye than the fancies of robert dumesnil (_peintre-graveur français_, tome vi., p. ). to judge by the four little medallions here reproduced, the art of engraving on wood was rarely more skilful than in these portraits. it would not be astonishing if a man like cornelis had designed the figures of the _entrée de henri ii._ in any case, why should we choose john cousin instead of petit-bernard? at this time, we know, the kings carried in their suite their ordinary painters; but we do not know that john cousin followed the court to lyons in . he did not hold an official position, like clouet. this artist produced well-authenticated works; one of them is signed, and leaves no doubt: the _livre de perspective de jehan cousin senonois, maistre painctre_, published in by jean le royer, printer to the king for mathematics. this profession of printer for mathematics had its difficulties of engraving, for le royer tells us in his preface that he had himself finished the plates commenced by albin olivier. in another practical treatise, entitled _livre de portraiture_, published in , john cousin is styled _peintre géometrien_. it is beyond doubt that this master produced for many works figures and ornaments, but what were the books? the manner was then to repeat the engraved borders of titles, the _passe-partout_, in the centre of which the text was printed. cousin designed many of these title-pages on wood; that of the _livre de portraiture_ affords a curious element of comparison; but he was not by any means the inventor. in was sold at antwerp a book printed from engraved plates after john vriedman, by gerard juif, which is simply a collection of engravings for title-pages for the use of publishers. [illustration: fig. .--title of john cousin's _livre de portraiture_, published in by le clerc. (the spot on the title is in the original, preserved among the prints of the bibliothèque nationale.)] it is about this time that metal plates may be seen in conjunction with wood engraving in the illustration of the book, and the best artists attached their names to important publications of this kind. we have explained in a former chapter in what this process is least convenient in the impression of a book. in fact, two successive printings, that of the plates and that of the text, were additional trouble and a frequent cause of errors; but wood-cutting was somewhat abandoned in the middle of the sixteenth century, especially for separate plates, and engraved plates took a considerable importance under different artistic influences. the first was the facility of engraving a metal plate compared to the difficulty of cutting a wood block. it thus naturally happened that the artists of the burin wished to employ their art in illustration, and taste was soon drawn to the new process. in france the first volume of this kind was printed in by topie de pymont in folio: the _pérégrinations en terre sainte_ of bernard de breydenbach, with figures on engraved plates copied from the mayence edition of . since this manner was abandoned until about , as much for the reasons given above as for others, we only meet with a stray plate now and again, which remains as a bait, and relates to nothing. under the reign of henri ii. the smallness of the volumes did not always admit of wood engravings, and the artists in metal found a footing among illustrators; they made attempts, such as that of the _histoire de jason_ of réné boivin in , which came out under charles ix. in a charming volume of engraved plates by p. woériot. the "emblems" of georgette de montenay were also in the burlesque style of alciati, but they had an advantage, as the author assures us:-- "alciat fist des emblèmes exquis, lesquels, voyant de plusieurs requis, désir me prist de commencer les miens, lesquels je croy estre premiers chrestiens." this orthodoxy does not make them more intelligible, but the engravings of woériot, unskilful as they are, import an element of interest which surpasses the rest. it was always at lyons, the rival and often the master of paris in typography, that the author printed his work. by the privilege dated , five years before publication, we see that it is permitted to peter woériot, engraver of the duke of lorraine, to portray, engrave, and cut in copper the said figures called emblems for the time and term of five years ( th october, ). peter woériot sometimes signed his prints with the small lorraine cross adopted by geoffroy tory's workshop, as may be seen in our engraving. copper plate engraving had by this time established itself, and the works that were so illustrated spread themselves. du cerceau published his admirable collection of _plus beaux bastiments de france_ in folio - , which had numerous plans and views of the royal and princely castles. thevet put forth his _cosmographie universelle_ and his _hommes illustres_, the latter adorned with skilfully engraved portraits. in paris the publishers mamert patisson, who married the widow of robert estienne and took his mark, adrien le roy, and robert ballard, published the celebrated _ballet comique de la royne faict aux nopces de monsieur le duc de joyeuse_, composed by balthasar de beaujoyeux, valet de chambre to henri iii.; and in this book, in which were put hasty etchings, the king displayed all his immodesty and depravity. the book has often had the unconscious mission of transmitting to posterity the unworthiness of its author or of its heroes. from this time the book has left its golden age to enter into the boastings of courtiers and political abstractions. [illustration: fig. .--engraving by p. woériot for georgette de montenay's _emblèmes_.] among the publications opposed to the government of the time, the two associates james tortorel and john perrissin, of lyons, had published a celebrated collection of plates on the religious wars that stained the reign of charles ix. with blood. at first engraved on metal, these plates were worn out, and were gradually replaced by others engraved on wood, on which several artists worked, among them james le challeux and also john de gourmont, one of the most celebrated wood-cutters of the sixteenth century. this was a work composed of single leaves in folio size, which had an extraordinary sale among the religious people of the time. at the same time, illustration on wood did not stand still. the portraits of authors diffused by the pencil of clouet and his school were commonly put at the head of their works. we cannot say whether clouet himself designed the portraits of tiraqueau and of taillemont in ; of du billon, the author of the _fort inexpugnable_, in ; papon and ambroise paré in ; grevin, ramus, and others; but the precision of these physiognomies recalls the peculiar manner of the french artists of the sixteenth century. the "poems" of ronsard in contains a series of very clever portraits, among them that of muret, his commentator, one of the most perfect of its kind. christopher de savigny, author of the _tableaux accomplis de tous les arts liberaux_, published by john and francis de gourmont in , is represented at full length in the frontispiece of his work, offering the book to the duc de nevers, to whom it is dedicated. this plate in folio, probably engraved by john de gourmont, is the best finished that we have seen. the work of savigny, forgotten as it may be now, had a great reputation in its own time; and bacon took from it the idea of his "advancement of learning." speaking of the duc de nevers, it will not be without interest to our readers to mention here a manuscript found by us in the bibliothèque nationale, which enables us to give an account of the work then necessary for the publication of an illustrated book. in the duke arranged for the impression of an apologetic book, of which no trace remains; and his _intendant_ writes a long letter to him on the subject of composition and bindings. it was necessary that the work should be produced quickly, bound and gilt, for presents. the _intendant_ thinks calf will be the most expeditious covering. "it would be much the best to use black or red calf, ... well gilt above, and not vellum, which is a thin parchment that quickly shrinks." the statements of this man of business show that five proofs of each sheet were taken for typographical correction, and that twelve full days were wanted for the binding. the most interesting part of this memoir is that which treats of the engraving on wood of the portrait. the plate was designed by an artist who had afterwards gone away; it was not satisfactory, but the ornaments would pass. the _intendant_ proposes to "fix a little piece of wood in the block that could be drawn upon." here we see correction by elimination. the pear-wood on which the original figure was engraved was to be cut out, and a square of boxwood substituted, "forasmuch as in this task the pear-wood, which is the successful, well-cut block, is the wood that is harder." [illustration: fig. .--portrait of christopher plantin, printer of antwerp. engraved by wierix.] the portrait of the duchesse de nevers was better, yet the pear-wood had given way under the work. "that of madame is more passable. nevertheless, there is still something to say to one eye. the wood cannot carry the subtlety of the line." here, in a few clear and explicit lines by a man of the time, we see the economy of a publication of the sixteenth century, at a time when wood engraving was declining, to give place to engraving on metal, which was soon to reign supreme, through the most important book house of the century: the plantins of antwerp. christopher plantin, like jenson, came originally from tours. after having learned his art with macé at caen, he went to paris, from which the wars soon drove him. he left for the low countries, and there philip ii. nominated him as chief printer--"architypographus." established at antwerp in , he surrounded himself, as had the estiennes and alduses, with most of the learned and literary men of his time, among them justus lipsius, to whom balzac attributed the latin prefaces signed by plantin. it is certain that he was neither an estienne nor an aldus. his artistic probity caused him to submit the proofs of his works to strangers, with promise of recompense for faults indicated; the estiennes employed the same system. plantin, not to be behind any of his contemporaries in typographical perfection, brought from france the celebrated type-founder william lebé, and charged him to furnish a special fount.[a] under the orders of philip ii., he printed the celebrated polyglot bible, in eight folio volumes, absolutely perfect in its execution; unfortunately the spanish government, having advanced funds in the course of publication, prosecuted him with the utmost rigour to obtain repayment. this very nearly shut up his printing house, but he took courage and overcame his difficulties, until he became, in , the year of his death, the principal publisher of flanders. his mark was a hand holding a compass, with the motto "labore et constantia." [footnote a: in the bibliothèque nationale is a copy of an octavo _album de caractères_, in which lebé has written, "this gloss, made in paris ( ) by me, is my fourteenth letter, and the text is made on the pattern of the preceding one for size, but of a better art; and from this was printed the great bible of antwerp by plantin, to whom i sold a fount" (folio ). on folio he wrote, "i do not know whence came this small hebrew that i received from plantin to make a smaller one for him. he sent me this half-sheet, and i have not seen at venice another part."] [illustration: fig. .--plantin's mark.] plantin died at the age of seventy-four, leaving a prosperous business to be divided between his three daughters. his first house at antwerp employed seventeen presses even at the time when he was in trouble, and he had branches at paris and leyden, of less consequence. his second daughter married moretus, and to him descended the antwerp workshop; he and his descendants continued the printing house until recently; the house of the great printer and publisher is now a typographical museum. the plantin printing office--"officina plantiniana"--was as well managed by its descendants as by himself. the fashion of engraving in metal spread itself before the death of the head of the house, and his successors continued it. the principal engravers with the burin of the low countries were employed by them: wierix, galle, pass, mallery, van sichern; it was a real school of illustration, that created by degrees a precious and sustained style, not without influence on the artists of that epoch. it was from this particular manner that came thomas de leu and leonard gaultier in france; and from antwerp came those small religious figures that have lasted to our time in their incomprehensible mysticism. the title-pages of the plantin printing office inaugurated the _passe-partout_ engraved by the burin, overloaded and complicated, of which the seventeenth century took advantage. to tell the truth, these elaborate displays, blackened by ink, do not accord well with the titles; and there is a long distance between this decadence and the books ornamented with wood blocks by the italians and french of the commencement of the century. exception must be made in favour of rubens, who designed many of these titles. the heavy and squat architecture of the time was least of all appropriate to these decorations, which wanted grace. it passed from plantin into france through the engravers; it went to rome with martin de vos and john sadeler; it imposed itself everywhere; and from that day to this it has not ceased. at the time of which we write it had taken its flight in france, and spread itself in europe with extraordinary success. engraving in relief, holding its own until then, gave way little by little before this invasion. when henri iv. mounted the throne wood engraving had finished its upward movement, it still remained in the _canards_, or popular pieces sold at low prices, but it is easy to see what these hasty vignettes are worth. [illustration: fig. .--frontispiece of a book from plantin's printing office. metal engraving.] we have now seen the history of the book and its decoration in the sixteenth century in france: at first french epics in italy, books of hours, romances of chivalry; then about , with the reign of henri ii., the religious pamphlets commenced, bookselling spread itself; the strife between illustrations on metal plates and those in relief assumed shape, it continued under henri iii., and terminated abruptly by the victory of the first at the extreme end of the century. with political passions, printing had become a weapon of warfare, which it will never cease to be. they knew in the sixteenth century what perfidious accusations or excessive praises were worth. the book followed the fate of its author. if the writer was burned, so was his book. witness the _christianismi restitutio_ of the catholic servetus, printed at vienne, in dauphiné, and consigned to the flames with its author at geneva in . a single copy was saved from the fire, and is now preserved in the bibliothèque nationale; it is the identical copy annotated by colladon, the accuser of the unhappy servetus, and still bears traces of fire on its leaves. typography and the illustration of the book in england in the sixteenth century did not make the same progress as in france and italy. much good work was done, but it was mostly with foreign material. type was obtained from french and dutch founders, and most of the woodcuts had the same origin. in the early part of the century most of the publications were translations of popular foreign books, such as voragine's "golden legend," caxton's translations of cicero, boetius, etc. too many restrictions and privileges obtained to encourage or allow of the establishment of an english school, which was to come later with the spread of wealth and education. books were mostly printed in gothic type, or "black letter," and the woodcuts were of the coarsest kind. an exception was the beautiful prayer-book of john day, , known as queen elizabeth's prayer-book, from the fine portrait of the queen, which we reproduce, on the previous page; but in this the woodcuts were designed by albert dürer and hans holbein. pynson was the first to use roman type in england, in the _oratio in pace nuperrimâ_, , quarto; and the first english bible in roman type was printed at edinburgh in . it is thought that until about printers were their own type-founders, as no record exists of founding as a separate trade until that time. [illustration: fig. .--portrait of queen elizabeth from the "book of christian praiers," printed by john day, .] the greatest achievement of the sixteenth century in england was the printing of the first english bible, in coverdale's translation, in , folio, but even this was printed abroad, the latest investigation giving it to van meteren at antwerp. the woodcuts in it are by hans sebald beham; we reproduce one representing cain killing abel. tyndall had previously printed abroad an english new testament. another importation was brandt's "shyp of folys," printed by pynson, , and john cawood, , the woodcuts in both being copied from the originals before referred to. [illustration: fig. .--woodcut from coverdale's bible, . cain killing abel.] folio was the size usually adopted, and in this size the series of chronicles appeared: arnold, printed abroad in ; fabian, in ; froissart, by pynson, in two volumes, - ; harding, by grafton, ; hall, by the same, ; holinshed, in two volumes, . in the same size chaucer was first given to the world entire by t. godfrey in , and many times reprinted, and sir thomas more in . polemical and religious treatises were mostly printed in quarto, as were the poets: spenser's _faerie queene_, in ; langland's _pierce plowman_, in ; and sidney's _arcadia_, in . plays were also printed in quarto, in which shape at the end of the century some of shakespeare's single plays were issued. from the great perfection to which the liturgies, or books of hours, had been brought by vostre, verard, and others in france, it is not perhaps extraordinary that the service books for english use should have been mostly printed abroad. those for salisbury and york were produced at paris, rouen, and antwerp. a salisbury primer in english was printed by john kyngston and henry sutton in , and wynken de worde printed a york manual in . the first english common prayer book, known as edward vi.'s, was printed by grafton in , who also printed in henry viii.'s primer in latin and english. edward's book is curious as having on the last page a royal order as to the price at which it was to be sold: "no maner of persone shall sell the present booke vnbounde aboue the price of two shillynges and two pence. and bound in forell for ii_s._ x_d._, and not aboue. and the same bound in shepes lether for iii_s._ iii_d._, and not aboue. and the same bounde in paste or in boordes, in calues lether, not aboue the price of iiii_s._ the pece." cranmer's catechism was printed by nicholas hill in , with twenty-nine woodcuts by hans holbein, one of which we reproduce, representing christ casting out devils. translations from the classics were popular, and in the second half of the century arose that passion for voyage and travel which has so largely contributed to the wealth and extension of england. this was begun by eden's translation of peter martyr's "decades of the new world; or, west india," london, , quarto, followed by hakluyt's "principall navigations, voyages, and discoveries," , folio. many accounts of single voyages and discoveries were issued, and the taste thus created culminated in the establishment of the east india company in the last year of the century. the first specimen of copper plate engraving for books in england is a frontispiece to galen's _de temperamentis_, printed at cambridge , and the number of books containing copper plates engraved before is extremely limited, the most notable being portraits of queen elizabeth, lord leicester, and lord burleigh in archbishop parker's bible of ; saxton's atlas, , the first atlas in england; harrington's translation of ariosto, , with forty-seven engraved plates. [illustration: fig. .--woodcut by hans holbein from cranmer's catechism, .] the first printer at cambridge was john siberch, . peter of treves established himself at southwark in . among his productions is a higden's _polychronicon_, , folio. john oswen printed at ipswich , and among the english towns in which printers established themselves in the century were york, canterbury, tavistock, norwich, and worcester. the establishment of the reformed church, and the diffusion of education among the people which followed, created an original english school of literature in the sixteenth century, and this gave employment and great impetus to typography in england, so that by the time we reach the end of the century we find a great improvement in the art of the book, to be carried to still greater perfection in the next. [illustration] chapter iv. to . tendencies of the regency of marie de medicis--thomas de leu and leonard gaultier--j. picart and claude mellan--lyons and j. de fornazeris--the book at the beginning of the seventeenth century in germany, italy, and holland--crispin pass in france--the elzevirs and their work in holland--sebastian cramoisy and the imprimerie royale--illustration with callot, della bella, and abraham bosse--the publishers and the hotel de rambouillet--the reign of louis xiv., antoine vitré syndic at his accession--his works and mortifications; the polyglot bible of le jay--art and illustrators of the grand century--sébastien leclerc, lepautre, and chauveau--leclerc preparing the illustration and decoration of the book for the eighteenth century--the book in england in the seventeenth century. [illustration: fig. .--letter engraved by a. bosse.] now we have arrived at a critical epoch, in which the science of the old printers transformed itself gradually into commerce, in which taste lost itself under the influence of religious architecture. the title of the book represents the portico of a cathedral, with columns, mitred saints, and crosses, of little decorative aspect. figures on copper plates replaced the foliage and arabesques of the older booksellers. through the plantins and their imitators, the architectural passion was far spread. it inundated france, ran through germany and italy, and reigned pre-eminent in holland. literary taste also underwent change; manners were no longer those of the sixteenth century: bold, free, and gay; from the religious wars a certain hypocrisy arose; bombast replaced the natural; the gods were preparing, as a contemporary said, to receive louis and his spirit. it is not that artists were wanting at the opening of the seventeenth century who could, in giving scope to their talent, show themselves worthy successors of those who went before them. unhappily the booksellers no longer had a loose rein; they had the rope, for they were hung or burned at the least infraction of political or religious propriety. yet the reign of henri iv. was relatively an easier period for the artisans of the book, in which they were less confined to the strict terms of excessive regulations; but after this prince severity increased, and during the year a new law was promulgated punishing with death the printers or distributers of prohibited books. doubtless the books that were thus secretly sold, and prohibited in defence of good manners, were neither _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of typography nor art. the author threw off the indecencies by which he hoped to make profit and fame, regardless of type or illustration. but during the regency of marie de medicis, it was not only the authors of a bad standard that were in danger of being hung; the printer or seller of the pamphlet or book of a reputed heterodox author was also hung, and it became difficult to steer safely among the prohibitions. enormous numbers of works were made with frontispieces decorated with colonnades and mitred saints, and bearing high-sounding titles of sound orthodoxy. a somewhat gross mysticism, from the office of plantin, formed the most solid stock of every respectable dealer. [illustration: fig. .--title of the _metanealogie_, engraved by leonard gaultier.] under henri iv. and the minority of louis xiii., two french illustrators received from the school of antwerp their inspiration for the ornament of the book. thomas de leu, probably from flanders, was allied with the old parisian painter and engraver of celebrated portraits, antoine caron, in furnishing the engraved plates for the _images de plate peinture des deux philostrates, sophistes grecs_, paris, claude cramoisy, , folio; and leonard gaultier, his contemporary, collaborated with jaspar isaac and other artists in the book. leonard gaultier contributed most to spread in france the plantinian style, and his somewhat cold but characteristic talent suited this art more than that of any one else then could. he was an engraver of portraits, now rare and valuable, in the style of wierix or thomas de leu; but, at the demand of publishers and booksellers, he composed other plates, at first historical figures representing the royal family and the nobles for the publisher leclerc, in a simple and true manner; he also designed pious figures, recording a miracle or representing the ceremonies of a jubilee and other devotional things. but he made his great success in the composition of frontispieces to theological and pious works, printed for nearly all the booksellers. leonard gaultier had a fashion of his own with pilasters and grecian columns, under which he boldly placed entire councils of cardinals and bishops; witness the heading of the _bibliotheca veterum patrum_, into which he crowded nearly forty figures. he united also with a certain grace the sacred and the profane, placing among ideal saints the sinning fine ladies of the time, with their large collarettes and jewels falling on naked breasts. the work of andrew valladier, chaplain of the king, entitled _métanéalogie sacrée_, published by peter chevallier in , was adorned with a title of this particular kind, in which gaultier had no rival, and which preserves the precision of flemish masters in the detail of ornaments of the toilet. he was one of the first to work for sebastian cramoisy, printer and publisher, who had established his shop in the rue st. jacques at the sign of the "stork." we shall have occasion to speak of him later in connection with the royal printing house, of which he was the first director; he is mentioned now because in leonard gaultier engraved for him the frontispiece of _l'aigle français_, a collection of sermons by thomas girault. the publisher used the same plate in for the sermons of raymond de hézèque. besides the publications of sebastian cramoisy and chevallier, leonard gaultier adorned also those of nicholas buon and many other publishers of the time in paris and lyons. with such a profusion of works emanating from a single artist, without reckoning those which were produced in great quantity by men of less note, wood engraving was dead. at most it dared to put a wood block of a printer's mark on a title; more ordinarily this mark was not alone sufficient, and showed the disdain in which taste then held wood-cutting. thus goes fashion, heedless of the most elementary rules of art. to put type within an engraved title, or to ornament a printed text with engravings, is a heresy of principle that was established in the eighteenth century, by the strength of its cleverness and talent. but at the beginning of the seventeenth, in spite of leonard gaultier or thomas de leu, these overloaded titles, overpowering the opening of the book, offend the eye by their excessive blackness, and incontestably make us regret the admirable frontispiece on wood of the preceding century. this is all the ornament, properly so called, of the reign of louis xiii. leonard gaultier composed also small vignettes for an edition of homer, but they are mediocre and unskilful, and it must be said that there were others following the same path. john picart made a frontispiece with architecture and figures for the _histoire de la maison de châtillon-sur-marne_ for account of sebastian cramoisy. a cold and hard artist he was, the rival of gaultier, and one of the most employed of the vignette engravers of paris. there was also jaspar isaac, a mediocre craftsman, but who could design clever titles, among them that of the continuation of the _annales_ of baronius for the publisher denis de la noue. then claude mellan, whose great and clever talent did not disdain second-rate works, in which he gave free play to his burin. it must be said, however, that his bold touch did not well accommodate itself to reduced spaces, and that he was not working in the field necessary to his inventive powers. we mention his portrait of louis xiv. at the head of the _code louis xiv._; the title of the _perfection du chrestien_, in which is included a portrait of cardinal richelieu, a. vitré, , folio; that of the _instruction du dauphin_ for cramoisy, ; that of the works of st. bernard for the royal printing house; and, perhaps the best of all, the _poésies_ of pope urban viii., of which we here give a copy. [illustration: fig. .--title engraved by claude mellan for urban viii.'s _poésies_, printed at the royal printing house, in .] lyons did not remain far behind in the movement, but how changed from its great reputation of the sixteenth century! j. de fornazeris engraved the frontispieces to justus lipsius, published by horace cardon in . peter favre and audran imitated them. c. audran designed for claude landry the _theologia naturalis_ of theophilus reynaud, and the bookseller picquet ordered from him the title for the _annales minorum_ in . everywhere taste was modelled on the works of the capital, to name only the principal centres, rouen, rheims, sens, down to venes, a small town of tarn, where william de nautonnier published in his curious book _mécométrie_, whose frontispiece was bordered by views of cities, with an equestrian portrait of king henry. and if we pass to germany, we find mayence with mediocre engravings for titles according to the formula and process used elsewhere, the title of the _droit civil_ of aymar vailius, that of the works of st. bonaventura in for the bookseller antoine hiérat, and that of the _viridarium virtutûm_, rather cleverly treated by the burin in . what a period had passed since gutenberg, fust, and schoeffer! there was still one yves schoeffer at mayence, but only the name lived; nothing more remained of the old printers of the other century. it was the same at bamberg, cologne, nuremberg, and basle, in all the cities that made the honour of typography and the book in former times. cologne was neither better nor worse favoured than others. the booksellers boetzer, kinck, and de binghy had passable engravings for their titles; and the commentaries of salmeron may be mentioned, with portraits from the german originals of the fifteenth century. at nuremberg there was a curious specimen treating of natural history by basil besler, in which the artist gives the interior of a zoological cabinet of the time; but the blocks and the typography of the city of koburger are wanting. basle held its own later in relief engraving. meantime there was a mediocre set of the dance of death on copper, published by miegen, . at jena and frankfort-on-the-main were prosperous printing houses, but engravings and ornamentation were neglected. frankfort employed the frontispiece in the _traité du commerce_ of sigismond scaccia, published by zuner in ; it was divided into compartments, in which the bourse, the exchange, and the port of the city were represented. it is scarcely necessary to mention the italian cities which followed the movement. venice from the middle of the sixteenth century had used engraved frontispieces, among which was that of domenic zenoi for the _portraits des hommes illustres_ of nicholas valegio. in the same city james piccini worked for account of sgava in , but he was equally at the service of roman publishers, for whom he designed a number of titles. along with him frederic greuter adorned the publications of alexander zanetti, not without talent, but without individuality. bologna, brescia, florence, and naples, had no original sentiment; they followed indifferently the manner of the day. in holland, artists were rather numerous. the family of the passes designed vignettes for books, and engraved frontispieces, admirably studied and composed. the clear and truly personal style of their works places their illustrations in the first rank among those of their time. they had, at the same time, the genius that created and the intelligent burin that faithfully translated an idea. they imagined with art the scenes that they depicted without at all copying their predecessors. from , the date of the publication of the _hortus deliciarum_, one of their best works, up to about , they were in holland, at arnheim and at amsterdam. in we find one of them, the most celebrated, crispin the younger, designing figures for the _manège royal_ of pluvinel, published by angelier in paris, and for another edition, with folding plates, in for william lenoir, at the sign of the "white rose crowned." this magnificent work, in which the king, louis xiii., is represented receiving lessons from the rider pluvinel, had a third and more complete reimpression in with another publisher, michael nivelle. here we see the dutch accredited in france, in paris, in the city then the most ready to understand and pay for the works of eminent artists. in gombauld published an _endymion_--boileau later associated gombauld with other poets to declare him a maker of pitiable sonnets--nicholas buon, the bookseller named above, undertook the publication, and employed pass, leonard gaultier, and j. picart to furnish plates in octavo size. heavy and black as were these vignettes, they do not the less make a good appearance in the edition of the forgotten poet; and it is due to truth to recognise how much pass was above his collaborators. the following year, , he engraved the _dionysiaques_ of nonus, for robert fouet, and the _roman des romans_ of du verdier, comprising more than ten engravings, in a very free and bold manner. the _berger extravagant_ and the _académie de l'espée_ came in , among numerous others. [illustration: fig. .--title of pluvinel's _manège royal_, engraved by crispin pass in .] to speak truly, crispin pass did not devote himself entirely to parisian publishers; he always preserved interests in flanders so as to return there from time to time; but he did not find in his own country the ready and assured sales of paris. still the city of leyden had then one of the most renowned workshops of typography; the elzevirs had commenced to make a good place for themselves among the printers of europe by the extreme correctness of their editions, the distinctness of their work, and their marvellous art in the taste and economy of the book. in reality, the sizes and characters of their books were very small, but if the smallness of the page did not allow room for vignette or ornament, they bore a certain practical elegance that was not without charm. the origin of the printing house was due to louis elzevir, who published in an edition of eutropius at leyden. he left sons, who associated themselves together, and founded a house which was unrivalled. [illustration: fig. .--title of the _imitation_ of the elzevirs.] bonaventure elzevir, grandson of louis, was the most illustrious of this family, so remarkably devoted to its art. he took abraham as partner, and together they put forth those little latin classics in duodecimo of which the value is now so great. among others, pliny issued from their presses in the year , in three volumes, virgil in , and cicero in . to-day amateurs, above all those afflicted with bibliomania, hunt for unbound elzevirs, because they have full margins. from about to these volumes were composed of paper of rather small size, making a page of a hundred and thirty to a hundred and thirty-three millimetres; from onwards the paper was larger, and the page from about a hundred and thirty-five to a hundred and thirty-seven. one must be a book-lover to understand the interest attaching to these figures, and employ his entire activity in the discovery of these undiscoverable books, which are concealed as soon as they are met with. one of the most esteemed of their works is the _de imitatione_ of thomas à kempis, printed by john and daniel elzevir about , and known as the edition without date. but as the association of john and daniel is known to have lasted from to , the date appears to be very plausible. we reproduce the entire title of this typographical _bijou_, which merited a cleverer engraver. the rarest of all the numerous elzevirs, possibly by reason of the popularity of its subject, is the _pastissier françois_, louis and daniel elzevir, amsterdam, , of which m. morgand had an uncut copy, measuring a hundred and forty-three millimetres, in . the benzon copy sold in for three thousand two hundred and fifty-five francs. it is to be remarked that the elzevirs frequently avoided dating or even signing their books, for reasons easy to comprehend. publishing numerous works, they were afraid of compromising themselves in the eyes of the powerful, and they let them go forth without any trade mark. these artists in typography were, besides, the most prudent and subtle of men. working at a time when bookselling had become an acknowledged commerce, and a trade requiring all the skill and resources of others, they wisely availed themselves of these, gathering for themselves honour and profit without having done more than seize their opportunity. employing the characters of claude garamond, of james sanlecques, and the papers of angoulême, m. didot thence claims them as french publishers. in france the elzevirs had no rivals; but a fashion was introduced from the end of the sixteenth century of associating together publishers in the production of important and costly books. there were, among others, the company of the "grand navire" in , of the "source" in , and of the "soleil" in . in several publishers united and founded a second company of the "grand navire." these were the two cramoisys, sebastian and gabriel, denis béchet, john branchu, denis moreau, claude sonnius, and denis thierry. the associates took a ship as their mark, but without putting their names on the masts, as the original company of the "grand navire" had done. they published, at common expense and divided profits, great works, of which each one of them had the right of sale, but of course reserving to themselves the right to publish such others as they pleased. sebastian cramoisy passes as the chief, the moral director of another company, formed to publish the fathers of the church, with the royal types, a company affiliated to the "grand navire" and signed in by denis moreau, gille morel, stephen richer, claude sonnius, and gabriel cramoisy. but as regards their personal works, if they had neither the perfection nor the aspect of those of froben, aldus, the estiennes, or even of plantin, they at least surpassed the french books of the time. formerly syndic of the corporation in , twenty-nine years before the constitution of the "grand navire," cramoisy was besides sheriff of paris, and he exercised his trade in a shop in the rue st. jacques which had been that of father nivelle, the _doyen_ of booksellers, who died in at the age of eighty years. the position of cramoisy made it natural for cardinal de richelieu to fix his eyes on him for the direction of the royal printing house. this establishment, founded by the king in , was installed within the louvre, in a long series of rooms which formed a workshop without rival in the world. sublet des noyers was named superintendent, trichet du fresne corrector; and under this triple direction the presses commenced to work. the first book was the _imitation de jésus-christ_, dated , folio, a fine book enough, but not to be compared to the elzevir editions. the types used in this book are attributed to claude garamond, founder of the sixteenth century, to whom are due the greek types of francis i. with the royal printing house, as often happens with state enterprises, the cost was great, and the return nothing. only a few years after its foundation it had swallowed up nearly , livres, a very heavy sum for a badly balanced treasury; it had produced sixty or seventy volumes of moderate value; and after cramoisy the management was so little in earnest that it turned the workshops into a stable, called "the little stable of the king," at the commencement of the eighteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--plate taken from the _lumière du cloistre_. copper plate by callot.] to return to the artists of the book under louis xiii. and cardinal richelieu, we must go back a little, before the foundation of the royal printing house, and we shall find the french school of illustration at a time when callot was giving it a vigorous lift and trying to do away with its affected and hard style. it must be acknowledged that callot was not a vignettist, a special designer; his art aimed higher, and ordinarily succeeded better; yet he did not disdain frontispieces, and made them for the _coustumier de lorraine_, the _harpalice_ of bracciolini, and for a crowd of others of which the enumeration would be tedious. certain of his works passed into italy, where they raised a little the debased level of the book. then he adorned several works with etchings, among them the _lumière du cloistre_, published by francis langlois . it was one of the symbolic and sententious works with which the public taste is never satiated, and a kind of guide for the priest. at the bottom of the little etching here given, representing birds falling from a tree, we read,-- "ses petits hors du nid le courbeau jette en bas, lorsque par leur blancheur ils lui sont dissemblables. le bon prélat de mesme au cloistre n'admet pas ceux qui n'ont rien d'esgal à ses moeurs vénérables." callot also made another set of emblems on the life of the virgin mary, and published in a series of prints in quarto for the tragedy of _soliman_ of bonarelli, for the account of cecconnelli. france imposed herself on fallen italy, she got her works dispersed there, and if an engraver arose there, he did not disdain to consecrate himself to france. witness della bella, who went from italy to france, where he was taken under the protection of cardinal richelieu. it was about the time of the establishment of the royal printing house, and it was expected that employment would be found at once for him. callot was the model chosen by the young italian artist, and this choice might have been less happy. della bella took from his master the philosophic vein, the drollery of design, which he exercised at first in humorous frontispieces, among others that of scarron's works, where nine fish-women, taking the place of the muses, dance around the poet. but he passed from gay and pleasant to severe, and made large pages of architecture for serious titles. in he designed the plates for the large and undigested volume of valdor on louis xiii., published by antoine estienne at the royal printing house. his success was not there; della bella was a painter of groups, of ornaments, of subjects somewhat heavy and overdrawn, but which, after numerous transformations, opened a new way to the vignettists of the eighteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--title of the _manière universelle_, by desargues, in , by abraham bosse.] with abraham bosse the decoration of the book took a considerable extension. numerous and charming ornamented letters, heads of pages, and tailpieces appear. there are few artists that have done so much as he for graceful illustration and harmony between the vignette and the printed page. his prodigious fecundity made him attempt every style; and after the gaieties of the print in which he laughed with his contemporaries, he adopted a grave air to trace more severe subjects on copper. however, the book entitled _la manière universelle_, by desargues, with numerous geometrical figures and an agreeable frontispiece, bearing the dedication to the seigneur de noyers, superintendent of the royal printing house, was a critical work, in which bosse, under a serious standard, did not spare an enemy. we do not bear ill-will to the artist, however, for the following year he published fourteen plates for the suetonius printed at the louvre. he successively designed plates for the _histoire de st. louis_, numerous vignettes for pious books, figures for the _pucelle_ of chapelain and for the _larcins de la fortune_. he was always himself, refined and ingenious, whether in the most barren or the most complicated subjects. [illustration: fig. .--print by abraham bosse representing the booksellers of the palace under louis xiii.] he has left us in a celebrated print a representation of a bookseller's shop of his time. it is for us an interesting page, in which is shown simply and rather naïvely the picturesque side of these stores, with the dealer and his wife selling new works to their customers. the shop is compact, and very much like the open-air stalls of to-day; posting-bills above the shelves indicate the "new books;" and if the inscriptions given by bosse be credited, the palace dealer offered his books with singular eclecticism: boccaccio, aretin, the _astrée_ of d'urfé, the bible, and machiavelli. in the hands of the woman is seen the romance _marianne_: "icy les cavaliers les plus adventureux en lisant les romans s'animent à combattre; et de leur passion les amants langoureux flattent les mouvements par des vers de théâtre," says the text of bosse. what was commonly done then is still done, shopping and rummaging the stalls, and those of the palace were attractive. if we credit sauval, the great number of booksellers, in the middle of the century, was due to the wits of the hotel de rambouillet. the passion for novelty, for recent works, had produced that quantity of publishers, he says, that we have seen on the pont neuf, and that we still see to-day at the palace and the university, but of which the number is so multiplied in all these places that in the palace they count more than other dealers; and as to the neighbourhood of the university, they are obliged, in order to lodge the rest, to extend the ancient bounds from st. yves to the river (sauval, _antiquités de paris_, viii., ). in fact, each year saw an increase in the number of publishers in corporation, with syndicate and adjuncts. under the reign of louis xiii., the single year had fifty to take rank, and among them antoine vitré, who was to become the most illustrious of his contemporaries. but, as there were no more than six printers, it may be inferred that all the rest were booksellers, in the true sense of the word, of those who encumbered afterwards the great _salle_ of which sauval speaks. antoine vitré was syndic in may, , on the accession of louis xiv. he had four adjuncts. with him the book marked the solemn style that the commencement of the century had given to it. royal printer for the oriental languages from , he undertook a syriac work, the first that was attempted in paris. the project of a polyglot bible gave him the idea of acquiring for the king the oriental manuscripts and matrices of savary de brèves. the king left to him the care of negotiating the business, but did not reimburse him without numerous difficulties, in the midst of which the printer was made to lose the means of conveniently continuing his trade. the advocate le jay charging himself with the enormous expenses necessitated by the polyglot bible, it was composed in the hope that cardinal richelieu would pay the cost. he was willing to do so, but required that his name should figure on the book; and as le jay, an independent man, formally opposed it, vitré met with ill-will from the minister, which increased from day to day. in the impression was finished, but le jay was ruined, and if we admire the paper, the type, and the extraordinary size of the nine volumes of the polyglot bible, we find in it so many faults, errors, and misprints that it has fallen to nearly nothing, hardly being worth its binding. there were terrible mortifications in the business, and vitré had to submit to them more than any one. nevertheless he did not let his presses stand still, and he published successively arabic, turkish, and persian works. his action against the savary heirs, as representing the king, in the acquisition mentioned above, continued also after the impression of the bible, and hindered his progress. he struggled on; and the assembly of clergy, of which he was the printer, sought to help him out of his difficulties. the matter being once terminated, the cardinal being dead, and vitré having been named by colbert director of the royal printing house in place of cramoisy, he died in his turn, and was later accused of having destroyed the types and matrices of the polyglot bible, so that they should not be used after him. this fable, long accredited, has since been ascertained to be false, for the punches and matrices passed to the royal library, thence to the royal printing house, reorganised in . antoine vitré, in spite of his misfortunes, was a great personage. he was painted by champagne and engraved by morin, as was richelieu himself. the portrait was reproduced in the book of m. delaborde, _la gravure_ (p. ). such was the man whom we meet at the beginning of the reign of louis xiv. as syndic of booksellers; and it was by no means a sinecure, a canonry giving honour and profit, quite the other way. with the draconian rules on the subject, the syndic assumed a heavy burden towards the king, as well as towards his kinsmen. religious quarrels envenomed questions, and the revocation of the edict of nantes was to have for its immediate corollary new and more severe royal ordinances. the reign of louis xiv. saw the zenith of engraving with the burin, but not that of printing or illustration. doubtless it would be puerile to pretend that typography had not made any material progress; it had done so in engraving and in composition; work was done more quickly, because the presses had been made more perfect. but the wise harmony of the old printers, their sure taste, even in their old irregular blocks, was no longer there to form a graceful and charming whole, which is to modern precision as a picture by van eyck is to a chromo-lithograph. under louis xiv., titles became regular, following, as we have said above, and modelling themselves on, the affected and peruked people who read them. all art entered on this path of sublimity and grandeur. the painter le brun is the highest exponent of this false olympus, where an heroic pose became necessary for the most humble movements. made popular by engraving by pesne, audran, poilly, edelinck, and a hundred others, this tendency overran everything: art and industry, painting and tapestry, illustration and typography itself. all was grand, in reverse of other times, when all was small and mean. the embellishments of the book were full of gods in perukes and goddesses in armour, louis xiv. as apollo, as the sun illuminating the world. "nec pluribus impar" was not the device of one man; it was the mighty and glorious cry of a whole people, from great to small, from the sublime painter to the modest printer. ordinarily these exaggerations are not useful to the arts. here they were. but, for the matter that specially occupies us, it does not appear that the book was much advanced. it approached a marvellous epoch of a delicate and graceful art; but it did not find its form; it dragged painfully after the plantinian works, heavily throwing its etchings and burins in the middle of texts, gross and in bad taste. yet taste in literature had an onward tendency; molière and la fontaine produced on their contemporaries the effect that in our day the naturalists have produced on the romanticists; but this was not for long. majesty recovered its rights with bossuet, boileau, and the others. [illustration: fig. .--tailpiece of sébastien leclerc for the _promenade de st. germain_.] sébastien leclerc was one of the rare artists of the end of the seventeenth century who dreamed of the vignette in the midst of this invasion of pompous commonplace. successor of callot in manner, induced by the publishers, he began this style with a romance of la calprenède, and continued with the _promenade de st. germain_ of louis le laboureur, bailie of montmorency, of whom boileau said such curious things. this is one of the rarest books of leclerc, and we reproduce one of the pages, with a charming tailpiece, which comes very near those of the eighteenth century. there was, moreover, a charm in this ingenious designer; he adorned the works of his contemporaries with graceful vignettes and decorations full of suppleness. it may be believed, besides, that he did not remain behind his _confrères_ in figure composition or allegorical and divine emblems. his art did not throw off the errors of the existing school; he was content not to copy any one and to make his works truly his own. such were, for example, the vignettes of the _histoire de turenne_, where the heads of the chapters, the ornamented letters, and the tailpieces, harmoniously agree, and make the book, a little heavy in impression, a most agreeable work. leclerc then found himself ready to design vignettes for the works of racine for the publisher, claude barbin, another name frequently encountered in boileau. the title of vol. ii. merits attention. the same year of this last publication, , sébastien leclerc illustrated the "metamorphoses" of ovid for benserade, the engraving of which cost the king more than , livres. thus adorned, the book had not a bad appearance, but a satirist of the time, hardin very probably, made on it this quatrain:-- "mais quant à moi j'en trouve tout fort beau: papier, dorure, images, caractère, hormis les vers qu'il fallait laisser faire a la fontaine." it may be imagined what an engraver could produce working from and dying in , that is, a life of work the longest that could be hoped for. leclerc was the absolute contemporary of the king. he died, like him, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, leaving work widely scattered among books, funeral orations, and placards. after the example of callot and bosse, he did not disdain satire. one of his prettiest vignettes served to illustrate some pamphlet of richesource against the journalists of his time; it represents a dandy of about offering his gazette. by the side of this unrivalled antagonist it is permitted to place lepautre, twenty years older than leclerc, but whose studies had been principally on architecture. in the moments that he left his special work he devoted himself to frontispieces and vignettes; nevertheless, although he had before him the charming designs of leclerc, he confined himself to a cold and hard manner, keeping, besides, as much as possible to titles, in which his particular talent could find scope. he designed also the chartreux missal of , the _gallia christiana_ after marot, the _dioptrique oculaire_ of p. chérubin, engraved by edelinck, and a thousand other works of small repute. [illustration: fig. .--small figure of sébastien leclerc for richesource's pamphlet.] very different was francis chauveau, who, without having the delicacy of sébastien leclerc or his art of arrangement, treated at least with grace little figures and illustrations. certainly there is an enormous distance between these correct and commonplace engraved plates and the delightful wood engravings of the time of geoffroy tory, for example. but, be their worth what it may, they suited very well; and even with molière they did not make such a bad figure. chauveau was associated with many of the works of leclerc, who caused him often to be less heavy, inasmuch as leclerc corrected in engraving many of his compositions. it was so with molière, and still more with racine in the plate of the _plaideurs_, in which chauveau revealed himself a precursor of the eighteenth century. unhappily he did not always follow this manner. successively, and with various luck, he illustrated _alaric_, _andromaque_, and the "metamorphoses" of ovid for benserade, with leclerc; the _pucelle_ of chapelain, and the _tragédies_ of racine, to which le brun did not disdain to put his hand. in short, the connecting link between the beginning of the seventeenth and that of the eighteenth century in the development of illustration is sébastien leclerc. he had known the artists of the first period; he was to see at his death appear one of the precursors of the vignettists of the following century, claude gillot. thanks to him, overburdened titles and unskilful vignettes underwent a gradual transformation. in the delicacy and tenuity of his designs may be seen the dominant note of the eighteenth century, coquetry, and choffard is divined. he was nearly the only one who did not fall into the exaggerations of the engravers of the time; he kept beside them without touching them, and preciously preserved his own well-accentuated personality. by the smallness and slenderness of his figures, leclerc recalls somewhat the school of fontainebleau; but he is above all the reflection of callot, a lorrainer like himself. in holland, a frenchman, bernard picart, son of stephen and pupil of leclerc, was making a great name as an illustrator. he established himself as a print-seller at amsterdam at the sign of "l'etoile," and successively designed vignettes for many works, among others the boileau of . his vignettes and tailpieces, without possessing either the spirit of leclerc or the grace of the eighteenth century, express an ingenious and inventive art that had broken with the strained traditions of preceding epochs. from these two artists the decoration of the book rapidly advanced. the form is found, and charming designers are not wanting to apply it. the troubled state of england during the greater part of the seventeenth century no doubt accounts for the fact that the art of the book made but very little progress. theological controversies, the persecutions by the puritans, and, above all, the great civil war and its antecedents and results, gave rise to a flood of publications of an ephemeral kind, which from their nature were hurriedly produced; and there was little room for pure literature and art. in the early part of the century, under the influence which elizabeth left, and which james fostered, some important works were issued, with finely engraved illustrations; but wood engraving declined further and further, until it was artistically dead, to be revived in the next century. the works of the numerous poets and dramatists were printed in quarto, and collected editions of them in folio. thus were issued the works of shakespeare, first collected by jaggard and blount, , folio, with an engraved portrait by droeshout, the faithfulness of which was vouched in an opposite page of verse signed by ben jonson. "don quixote" first appeared in an english dress in - , published by e. blount in quarto; and jaggard, blount's partner in the shakespeare, published boccaccio's "decameron," in two volumes folio, . among other notable works of the early part of the century were drayton's "polyolbion," ; chapman's homer, - , folio, three volumes; lord bacon, whose essays and other single publications appeared in the seventeenth, to be collected as his "works" in the next century; and william prynne, whose _histrio mastrix_, , so offended charles i. by its references to the queen and the court ladies, that the author had to undergo a severe and degrading punishment. many of these works were illustrated with meritorious engravings on steel and copper by w. hollar, p. lombart, w. marshall, hole, w. pass, w. faithorne, and r. vaughan. so that here were all the materials for the foundation of an english school, to be cruelly broken up shortly afterwards by the distractions of civil warfare. in robert barker first printed the authorised version of the holy bible, which has been more often reprinted than any other book, and which exists to this day as the great standard of the english language. the taste for books of travel which arose in the last century was largely increased by the voyages and discoveries of the english in north america and the subsequent puritan exodus there. these early accounts of virginia and new england, many of which are tracts of a few leaves only, now command fabulous prices. the great collection of voyages under the name of "purchas: his pilgrimes," was printed in five folio volumes, - , while de bry, hulsius, and linschoten were enriching the world with their collections of travels, printed in germany and holland. all of these works were adorned with finely engraved plates, those to "purchas" being engraved by elstrack, and, besides, it had a famous map of the world, engraved by hondius. the controversial spirit engendered by the religious quarrels of the century and by the great civil war gave incessant work to the printers; and the many tracts and pamphlets thus produced were frequently illustrated by rude and coarse woodcuts, of no value from an artistic point of view, but curious from the indications they afford of the costumes and manners of the time. the first edition of walton's "angler" was printed by r. marriott in , mo, with plates in the text, engraved on steel by lombart. butler's "hudibras" appeared in - , and milton's "paradise lost" in , quarto. fuller's "worthies of england" was printed , folio. we have roughly mentioned the principal english books of the century, and next approach the revival of literature and art in the eighteenth century. [illustration] chapter v. the book in the eighteenth century. the regency--publishers at the beginning of the eighteenth century--illustrators in france; gillot--the school of watteau and boucher--cars--the younger cochin; his principal works in vignettes--french art in england; gravelot--eisen--choffard--the _baisers_ of dorat; the _contes_ of la fontaine--the publisher cazin and the special literature of the eighteenth century--the younger moreau and his illustrations--the revolution--the school of david--duplessis-bertaux--the book in germany; chodowiecki--in england; boydell and french artists--caslon and baskerville--english books with illustrations--wood engraving in the eighteenth century; the papillons--printing offices in the eighteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--letter by cochin for the _mémoires d' artillerie_ of suvirey de st. remy.] like experience has shown us in our time, but in another manner, the beginning of the eighteenth century produced, in the manners and tastes of the french, an unconscious but tenacious reaction. it seemed as if the conceptions of romanticism had lasted long enough, and that the cycle of middle age chevaliers had passed away, and that a return to what is called nature was effected in literature and art. at the death of louis xiv., olympus and its gods, majestic poses and suns, had become wearisome. by a little half-open door, gaiety escaped from its prison and fled. for the book that door was the hand of sébastien leclerc. the ancient school was replaced. constrained during three quarters of a century, french manners began to be joyous under the regency of the duc d'orleans. if the representatives of another age still lived, if rigaud always painted his portraits in peruke, there were new-comers, enlivened by the new fashions, less solemn and more bewitching. le brun was then far in the past, and as amusing to the ladies of the regency as are now to us the fashions of the second empire. the book, after its manner, followed the movement, and gradually found the elements of its decoration in the tendencies of the day. small sizes were multiplied, types showed elegance, and vignettes became more and more agreeable and intellectual. amateurs had their _ex-libris_ engraved. the smallest pamphlets were covered with ornamental letters, vignettes, and tailpieces, already very clever. costume also, in its shorter and lighter form, gave to designers a means of agreeably composing a page of illustration and disseminating fancy in the figures. these revolutions worked themselves simply from day to day, as taste became more pronounced and exacting. the commerce of the book was still extending from the end of the preceding century; and if the number of printers was limited and arrested by certain somewhat hard laws, production in paris was enormous. among regulations that weighed most heavily on publishers figured the obligation put upon them by the ordinance of to deposit eight copies of illustrated books. in the king issued other regulations to affirm the rights of the university against the corporation, forcing the masters to assist in a body at the processions of the sorbonne and to offer on the day of the purification a candle to the rector. in spite of this ordinance, more religious than useful to commerce, the fashion of vignettes increased. the principal shops were searched, as they are still, for novelties; the rue st. jacques and the quai des augustins, where they were grouped, were resorted to. the most important booksellers in were coignard, the barbous--who essayed afterwards, with lengley dufresnoy, to copy the elzevirs,--cavalier, robustel, fournier, ballard, and d'houry. of the two last, d'houry printed the calendars, and ballard had the privilege for music. another, leonord, published the books of the dauphin. at these and other publishers', recent works were examined, those who did not buy gave their advice and took ideas, and so fashion slowly formed itself. it was thus that houdart de la motte published with g. dupuis in a collection of fables, with illustrations of claude gillot, which was the talk at the booksellers'. in this book all was original: the author, who had had, five years before, the eccentric idea of translating the iliad without knowing a word of greek; the text, a kind of imitation of la fontaine, without salt or savour; the size, quarto, admirably printed by dupuis, in the rue st. jacques, with plates by coypel, massé, and, above all, the charming vignettes of gillot, the most pleasing and clever of all his collaborators, a sort of callot fallen into the eighteenth century, and who ought to take the first place by birthright. gillot has been called, not without reason, "the last pagan of the renaissance;" and this pagan had the honour to give us watteau. [illustration: fig. .--vignette by gillot for the _chien et le chat_, fable by houdart de la motte, in .] the count de caylus tells the story. gillot had quitted the pencil for the etching needle on seeing the work of his pupil. he had no reason to complain; his pictures were of no value, and his prints gave other artists the idea of imitating them. the whole french school of the eighteenth century may have had its origin in this forgotten book, illustrated by the master of watteau. in fact, in the manner of the little etching here given we may easily perceive the coquetry and affectation that were later the dominant tone of vignettes. for, it may well be said, the graceful, feminine, and arch manner of which we speak was, above all, conventional and false. in opposition to the designers and engravers of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth century, who reproduced naturally scenes of daily life in ideal conceptions, it came, through the moral education of the artists, that they put forth the ideal in the most ordinary things of life. shepherds were no longer the gross, rustic peasants that we find in primitive flemish paintings or in the "hours" of simon vostre; they were coxcombs, pomaded and adorned with ribbons, playing the bagpipes, and making love to the shepherdesses of the court. at first it was watteau who influenced all the engravers in the pretty and the smart; boucher did the rest; and fatally the book followed, and followed impetuously, surpassing, if possible, the painted works. if the severe poses, the grave touch, of the preceding century are no longer found, they often go a little far in the contrary sense. it may be well said here that the arts are ordinarily the result of the manners of an epoch. the system of law was not without influence on the entire eighteenth century, by the terrible manner in which he upset fortunes, awoke appetites, gave rein to aspirations hitherto held in check. claude gillot, the designer, was one of the first victims of the scotch banker; he lost his fortune on the exchange; but who may say what his artistic ambition dreamed of in the midst of all these disorders? one thing is certain: that watteau, his pupil, broke off very short with the style of the seventeenth century. laurent cars was the engraver who multiplied the compositions of boucher, and made them the fashion. he engraved also, after the painter of shepherds and nymphs, illustrations to molière, the most agreeable that there are for style and spirit. in engraving certain works of lemoyne, cars did not completely desert the ancient school. he appears at the beginning of the eighteenth century as if divided between two manners each equally possible to him. the work of these engravers was almost exclusively in etching, biting with acid a copper plate covered with varnish, on which the drawing was made by means of a point. this process, always previously used for sketches, served also for finishing vignettes, which up to then had been finished by the burin. the suppleness of the work was greater, and the artist remained more himself than he could be with the stiff cutting instrument of the seventeenth century. the sizes of books had not yet all come to octavo or duodecimo. the works of molière published by prault in in six volumes quarto, under the direction of marc antoine joly, give the idea of an important work, not at all of theatrical pieces. to tell the truth, these somewhat exaggerated dimensions allow artists more room for illustration; later, when smaller forms predominated, text and engravings were so compressed that they were not always clear and readable to every eye; but the quarto was not graceful, it was not in harmony with the finikin, the pastoral pieces, then presented, and it had to disappear as a current size in illustrated publications. the class of artisans employed on the book is not identical in the eighteenth century with that of printers and publishers. in the beginning, as we have seen, the cutters of wood blocks and the printers were often the same people, preparing their characters or their blocks, and afterwards putting them under the press. large printing offices had very quickly changed that. each particular work had its special workman. typography had its type-founders, compositors, forwarders, inkers, and pressmen. in the eighteenth century this was complicated by designers, engravers, plate-printers, and these different professions occupied themselves on the book in manipulating the sheets in their turn. in the midst of this crowd, the designers and engravers, esteemed as was their collaboration, were not the most honoured. their homes often reflected the effect of their life as clever artists, quick to spend the money earned during the week; and we shall have occasion to name some of the more miserable among them. the booksellers, on the contrary, had become great personages. in the preceding chapter we have seen cramoisy and vitré, to name only them, acquire the greatest honours, the latter painted by philip de champagne, with many others lords of the court. in the eighteenth century there were brunet, ballard, mariette, chardon, didot, and a host of others, during the time of watteau, boucher, and cars, of which we shall shortly speak; and these several publishers had houses of their own, and furnished shops and printing offices with the best apparatus. saved from falling into negligences by royal regulations on printing, they composed with admirable characters, on paper of the first order, imperishable works; and, usual consequence of their high situation, they paid the artists badly charged with their work. it would be long and tedious to enter into this matter in detail. they made progress by slow degrees, and in good time they marvellously united copper plate engraving to printed text, so marvellously, that in comparing their works to the wood blocks of the sixteenth century, it may be asked which of the two styles is superior in elegance and good taste. [illustration: fig. .--vignette for _daphnis et chloe_ by cochin, for coustelier's edition.] one of the ancestors of this group of vignettists was the younger cochin, who had engraved the plate of the monks in the fables of houdart, illustrated by gillot. cochin, in spite of his passion for allegory and his very marked taste for affectation, gave, it may be said, with the designer-engraver st. aubin, an enormous impulse to the art of adorning books. from the beginning of his career he worked for the publishers, composing frontispieces, ornamented letters, and tailpieces, or transferring to copper the drawings of others. singular type of artist, besides, educated, well brought up, epicurean and spendthrift, friend of great lords, and protected by madame de pompadour. when he travelled in italy with her young brother abel poisson, cochin did everything, was ready at the least request, inventing curious menus, giving representations of fêtes, and yet finding the time to decorate books and design vignettes profusely. he worked chiefly for jombert, a sort of learned bookseller, king's printer for the artillery, who dates from july, . jombert was visited by painters. he gave little private soirées, which cochin attended, and where he daily made numerous friends. it was in this house, of so special a character, and, it may be said, so little artistic at first sight, that cochin invented his best frontispieces, among them that of the _calcul différentiel_, that of the _astronomie physique_, and the plates of the _méthode de dessin_, after boucher. he was one of the first to produce engraved titles, with which the publisher prault ornamented his dainty volumes, and which were imitated, up to the end of the eighteenth century, by all the illustrators who followed. in that to the works of madame deshoulières the letter itself is engraved. since then the open letter has been copied in typography. these vignettes were used many times by publishers, sometimes simply effacing the inscription, sometimes reproducing the original design by a different artist. the boy with the swan had decorated in a "jerusalem delivered" in italian, by the same publisher, prault; it was then engraved by aveline. fessard engraved the second plate, which is here reproduced. [illustration: fig. .--title-page engraved by fessard after cochin for the works of madame deshoulières, .] nearly all the frontispieces of the book with vignettes of the eighteenth century preserve this arrangement: an ornamented and draped border, with garlands of roses, symbols, and cupids, in the middle the title, in red and black, composed in open letter, often a scroll with the address of the publisher, but rarely a mark. it was the time of little winged cupids, goddesses, and gods. the goddesses were the favourites of the kings, madame de pompadour or the princesses, but rarely the virtuous marie leczinska, too homely and too much ignored to tempt the artists; the kings or the princes were the gods. after jombert, prault, and coustellier, cochin worked for françois didot, syndic of the printers, for whom he prepared a set of illustrations to molière. unfortunately didot died in , and the project fell with him. of the work of cochin there only remains the set of _tartufe_ etchings in octavo. in the vortex into which he was plunged, he successively illustrated the works of rousseau, published at brussels, quarto; those of boileau, published by david and durand, octavo; and henault's "history of france," in the same size, with numerous vignettes. one of these should be noted in a book treating of printing; it is that in which cochin pretends to show to his contemporaries the interior of a workshop in . without doubt the sketch of this print was taken in one of the houses frequented by him--at jombert's, didot's, or david and durand's--for that room in which compositors are working and printed sheets drying was not an invention of cochin, and served to reproduce a printing office of the eighteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--vignette taken from p. corneille's _théâtre_, by gravelot.] with cochin soon worked a number of designers and aqua-fortists, too prudent to lose the opportunity. the fashion arrived for books beribboned, festooned, and flowered. hubert françois gravelot had carried to london this style of new works, which he knew how to decorate, in his manner, better than any one, with letters, figures, and tailpieces. he did not engrave much himself, leaving this work to lesser artists, and contenting himself with subtle invention and graceful subjects. with eisen, cochin, and moreau, he is the french artist in the sense of the time, free, bold, and ingenious, but perhaps a little out of place in england. he published his plates to the "decameron" in , one of the most curious of his sets of plates, and a hundred various vignettes. on his return to france he designed the _théâtre_ of p. corneille, from which the _galerie de palais_ is here reproduced, on account of the illustration of bookselling which it gives. in the large _salon_ of the palace was still, as in the time of abraham bosse, a place where shops were fitted up and the new books discussed. side by side with the dressmakers and merchants of every category, the bookseller offers to his customer the recent products of parisian presses. certain works were sold under cover and not shown; there is here something to pique the curiosity of unoccupied young men who strolled about and prolonged their stay in the galleries. [illustration: fig. .--border designed by choffard in .] eisen has a simplicity, a good taste, and a special and singularly perfect economy of artistic effect combined with typography. it appears hard that the designer had no consultative voice in the choice of impression and disposition of the book. the union of the two forces, the vignette and the composition, is so close that it may be believed one was made for the other, neither venturing to assert itself. in the pretty and elaborate inventions of the artists reigned a lackadaisical affectation that was delightfully becoming; the rock-work, which it still had, suited admirably the borders of the first page. the _lettres d'une peruvienne_ has a very agreeable title, but little different, on the whole, from that of madame deshoulières, by cochin. it is the same with the _lettres turques_, published at amsterdam in , and generally in all the frontispieces signed by him. as to the other decorations of the book, there were also a number of ingenious artists, confusing cupids and flowers, imposing blazons, delighting in playing with accumulated difficulties. under this assuredly involuntary but real direction, publications attained proportions of luxury and coquetry until then unknown. the volume of _baisers_ of dorat would not have lived but for eisen and the delightful fancies with which he adorned it. at the same time, we find choffard, another designer and etcher of much repute, and sought after by the booksellers. under his pencil the vignette became a _chef-d'oeuvre_, the tailpiece was a delightful compound of judicious and sportive ornament, the taste for which grew more and more. from delicate foliage are suspended roses, shepherds' pipes, lyres, and zithers. with the zephyrs scrolls or ribbons float, carried by winged cupids. the initial letters are real pictures, of such fineness and precision that the difficulties of their reproduction prevent us from putting them before the reader. when the _fermiers généraux_, those great amateur financiers of the last century, conceived the idea of an edition of the _contes_ of la fontaine at their expense, their eyes naturally fell upon the artists best prepared to illustrate the inimitable fancies of the great poet, eisen and choffard. the first had for his task the composition of the plates, choffard the general decoration. ficquet was added for the portrait of the _bonhomme_ la fontaine--ficquet, whose specialty in this _genre_ was dazzling in its delicacy and spirit; diderot wrote a short introduction; the composition was confided to a printer of the first order, and it was put on sale by barbou. [illustration: fig. .--vignette by eisen for the quiproquo in the contes of la fontaine, in the edition of the fermiers généraux.] it is not a book to be recommended from a moral point of view, but the typographical art, joined to that of designers and engravers, never obtained a more complete success: the size in octavo, the impression clear, united with the dimensions of the plates in a harmonious elegance, well calculated to please the three rich personages and the joyous amateurs to whom the _contes_ address themselves. true, eisen has dressed the greater part of the characters in the costume of his time, which is a little hurtful to one's feelings to-day; it may be imagined, however, that it was la fontaine who was mistaken, so that these delicate, risky tales appear to be created for the seigneurs of the time of louis xv. all the special literature sought for then by rich people had not the value of the _contes_. there was at rheims a person, who has to-day become the _mode_, as he was in the time of louis xvi., who sold under cover a quantity of licentious books of the better kind, adorned with figures by eisen, marillier, or cochin; this was cazin, an artist in his way, but whose good name suffered under a scandalous trial. an order of the council of state in enjoined him to cease his trade in the place royale at rheims, where he sold his particular merchandise. it appears that the sentence was not without appeal, for we find cazin at paris about . he was one of those who were ruined by the revolution, after he had popularised the editions known as _petits formats_, printed by valade, of paris. [illustration: fig. .--card of the publisher prault, uncle by marriage of moreau le jeune.] we have come to the most beautiful illustrated books of the eighteenth century, and to the illustrious artists of whom we shall speak in good time should be added the younger moreau and st. aubin, the former nephew by marriage of the publisher prault, and therefrom a decorator of the book, the other thrown by gravelot into full work, and rapidly becoming the most subtle and adroit of the etchers of the time. moreau did not wait long after his marriage before setting to work. he began with ornaments destined for the _histoire de france_ of president henault; then he composed, in his own personal manner, titles and tailpieces for his uncle. in the book he is the propagator of garlands of roses, which he grouped with an ideal grace; he twined them in the borders of his frontispieces, and put them judiciously in his tailpieces. he excelled in inventing subjects referring to the text which were not commonplace ornaments suitable for anything. the tailpiece on p. , taken from the works of molière, brings forcibly to mind the _médecin malgre lui_, with its wood-cutter unmercifully beaten with sticks and muffled in a scientific robe. it is the same with other illustrations, that cannot be displaced from the position assigned to them by the artist without disappointment. [illustration: fig. .--tailpiece from the _médecin malgre lui_, by moreau le jeune.] the year , which saw the publication by de bret of the works of molière, may perhaps be considered as that in which the french book of the eighteenth century reached its culminating point. m. de laborde, first valet de chambre of the king and governor of the louvre, published with de lormel, printer to the academy of music, his celebrated collection of _chansons_, dedicated to the young dauphiness marie antoinette, and partly illustrated by the younger moreau. the work is exquisite, of powerful yet simple grace. the sentimental note of the century was struck in it, the insipid love of shepherdesses there tenderly sighed, and the designer has delightfully rendered this arch side of the pastoral song. our task does not permit us to linger over the works of this prodigious and charming artist, but we must mention his inimitable plates to j. j. rousseau, the finest and most agreeable of his compositions and vignettes, also his _chef-d'oeuvre_, the _histoire du costume_. [illustration: fig. .--vignette of the "pardon obtenu," designed by moreau le jeune, for laborde's _chansons_, in .] as evidencing the activity of french artists of the book in the eighteenth century, we cite the number of works illustrated by the respective artists enumerated in the last edition of m. h. cohen's valuable _guide de l'amateur de livres à gravures du xviii^e siècle_:-- aliamet, . audran, . aveline, . baquoy, . basan, . binet, . borel, . boucher, . bovinet, . cars, . chedel, . chenu, . choffard, . cochin, . coypel, . dambrun, . delaunay, n., . delignon, . delvaux, . duclos, . duflos, . dunker, . duplessis-bertaux, . eisen, . elluin, . fessard, e., . ficquet, . flipart, . fokke, . folkema, . fragonard, . freudeberg, . gaucher, . ghendt, . godefroy, . gravelot, . grignion, . gutenberg, . halbou, . helman, . ingouf, . langlois, . le barbier, . le bas, . lebran, . leclerc, . legrand, . lemire, . lempereur, . leveau, . longueil, . marillier, . martinet, . masquelier, . massard, . monnet, . monsiau, . moreau, . née, . pasquier, . patas, . pauquet, . petit, . picart, . ponce, . prévost, . prud'hon, . queverdo, . rigaud, . roger, . romanet, . rousseau, . st. aubin, . scotin, . sève, . simonet, . tardieu, . tilliard, . trière, . doubtless some of these ascriptions are for frontispieces only, but as a list of the principal book illustrators of the time, and as showing the measure of their popularity, this table is of much interest. with the revolution the decline of the book arrives, as that of all the arts. moreau, friend of david, had become affected by the new ideas and the burlesque renaissance of greek and roman art. he made his apology on the altar of the gods, and engraved portraits on wood to punish himself for having painted the elegancies of fallen tyrants. at this game, nerve, as well as suppleness, was lost; and if he had had only the artistic knack of the revolution, his daughter, married to charles vernet, could not have written of him, "that which can be most admired is, at the same time, the fecundity and flexibility of moreau's talent, that marvellous facility of conceiving a picturesque scene and disposing it in an interesting and truthful manner in the least extended space." this was true before, but after? in spite of his passion for the ideas and men of the revolution, moreau found himself at the end of his resources. renouard, the publisher, received him as he had received st. aubin, to whom he advanced sum after sum to prevent him dying of hunger. like most of his contemporaries, moreau, pressed by want, "took, quitted, and retook the cuirass and the hair-shirt." he had drawn for everybody: for louis xvi., for the republic, for napoleon i. the worst of it is that after his designs for ovid, molière, and rousseau, dating from the reign of louis xvi., he should have done them again in , , and . the difference was great, even probably for his publishers, renouard and dupréel. it does not appear that the pontiff of the new school, david, knew of his distress; and moreau succumbed in to a cancerous scirrhus of the right arm, forgotten and in the greatest misery. we have passed a little quickly to the end of the century because it is of no importance to name each of the publishers and artists, but only to sketch briefly their tastes or their manner. we have not dwelt long on the engravers so called, because of their number; but their dexterity remains proverbial; they handled etching with extreme suppleness, and often interpreted the drawings of illustrators in remitting them to the needle. many of these, not to say all, made use themselves of the etching needle, st. aubin for example, who knew how to give to the work of others his personal mark and distinction. [illustration: fig. .--title designed by moreau le jeune in for the publisher prault.] the revolution passed over some among those that it ruined, and, as stated above, they followed the movement, and lost themselves in the school of david. it was duplessis-bertaux who, after having furnished to cazin, the publisher, vignettes for his _recueil des meilleurs contes en vers_, , and many other books, after having worked for didot, devoted himself to patriotic engraving and to the reproduction of scenes of the revolution. when he published his _tableaux historiques_, in three volumes folio, adorned with nearly two hundred large plates, it was under the consulate, that is to say far from the time when the work was begun. renouvier assures us, with his exclusive disdain for the eighteenth century, that duplessis-bertaux was a mystifier, and that his scenes of the revolution were a hoax, "in the kind of spirit in vogue under the directory." the truth is that the artist, in place of being a cheerful callot, as might be thought from his manner of engraving, so like that of the lorraine artist, was imbued with the emphatic and exaggerated impressions of the first republic, its _sans-culottes_ in the poses of the sabines and its _tricoteuses_ apeing penelope. the immense artistic advance made in france in the eighteenth century in the manufacture and illustration of the book made itself felt throughout europe. in germany, chodowiecki, born at dantzic of a family of apothecaries, developed his talent from ornamenting the boxes of his father, and from to he designed numerous plates for books and almanacs, a little heavy in engraving, but singularly clever in composition. there were a few others also designing, and kilian, folkema, and ridinger produced some fine engravings, but the book did not make so much progress in germany as in france and england. in england a vast improvement was manifested. fine types were cast by baskerville and caslon; printing machines were perfected. the illustration of books by engraved plates was in the first half of the century almost entirely done by foreigners, but an english school was arising, which attained perfection in the latter half of the eighteenth and first half of the nineteenth century. wood engraving also, which, with the exception of blocks for head and tailpieces, had become almost a lost art, was revived by bewick, to become later one of the chief adornments of the book. before english printers obtained their best founts of type from holland, but the establishment of the caslon foundry rendered them independent. william caslon, the first great english type-founder, was born , and died . the foundry still exists, pre-eminent in the beauty of its characters. baskerville established a foundry about , and printed at birmingham with his own types a number of extremely beautiful books. the impetus given to fine printing by these two men rapidly spread itself, and laid the foundation of the perfection which english book-making reached. as mentioned above, gravelot illustrated many english books in the early part of the century. he designed a set of plates to shakespeare in mo, , and another in quarto, , besides numerous frontispieces and other plates in all kinds of books. among other foreigners who engraved for english publishers were grignion, kip, van der gucht, houbraken, and bartolozzi. bartolozzi, who was very prolific in the production of engraved plates, may perhaps be called the founder of that great english school of engraving which arose with the establishment of the royal academy in and the encouragement given by alderman boydell. houbraken and vertue engraved a set of fine portraits in folio for rapin's "history of england," ; william hogarth designed plates for butler's "hudibras," ; and among other curiosities of english engraving before were sturt's edition of the common prayer, entirely engraved on copper plates, , and an edition of horace entirely engraved by pine, . that the taste for illustrated books soon grew to be great is evidenced by the publication of such expensive works as boydell's edition of shakespeare, in nine volumes folio, commenced in , and adorned with a hundred plates from pictures specially commissioned by the spirited publisher; claude's _liber veritatis_, with three hundred engravings by richard earlom , sir robert strange's engravings of fifty historical prints about , collections of views in great britain by kip, buck, and boydell; holbein's "collection of portraits" , a hundred and fifty plates to shakespeare engraved by s. and e. harding , all of which cost great sums to produce, and greatly contributed to the elevation of public taste. among the artists of the latter half of the century who contributed to the decoration of the book are thomas stothard, whose very beautiful designs, extending into the next century, excelled those of all his contemporaries in their grace and spirit; robert smirke, best known by his plates for shakespeare, "don quixote," and "gil blas;" burney; and richard westall. it may be said generally that the english books of the eighteenth century were of a more solid character than the french, although english art, especially in the decoration of the book, owes much to french initiation. it is curious to read now the opinion of a contemporary french engraver on english art. choffard, in the preface to basan's _dictionnaire_ , wrote, "they" (the english), "having been supported by some foreign talent, are trying to create talent among themselves; but they have not seized the flame of genius that vivifies all art in france." [illustration: fig. .--tailpiece engraved on wood by john baptist papillon (before ).] however, what had become of engraving by cutting in reverse, the figure in relief, from which printing could be done? it had, we may think, nearly disappeared in the midst of the continued invasion of the burin and etching. it only appeared from time to time in head and tailpieces, remaining purely typographical and lost in other decorations. there were always wood engravers, not very clever, capable only of working simple lines without charm. one of them resolved to resuscitate the art, and made various attempts about the end of the reign of louis xiv. and beginning of that of louis xv. he was named john papillon, and was born at st. quentin in . his experiments did not go beyond a book of prayers, with thirty-six figures in relief after sébastien leclerc. his son, john baptist, succeeded him, and continued to engrave without ceasing subjects of ornament, letters, often tailpieces, of a good style upon the whole, and taking an excellent place in an elaborate book. unfortunately, grace had fled; the processes that the practitioners exhibited one after the other were lost; and the papillons reconstituted, we may say, a vanished art. john baptist also published in a theoretical treatise on wood engraving, abounding in historical errors, but in which something to learn may be found if taken with discernment. he says in his preface, "now that excellent work is done on copper, wood engraving is neglected, and the use lost of designing and cutting the shadows of the pencil on the wood block; most of those who work in it have neither design nor taste, and only follow their own ideas; it is not astonishing that only very mediocre pieces come from their hands, to say nothing stronger; the profound ignorance of nearly all who meddle with it contrives more and more to destroy the beauties of this art in which many people find neither pleasure nor grace. to obviate all this, if it be possible to me, i have undertaken to give my precepts and observations to those who wish to apply themselves to my engraving." it was probably the essays of papillon that provoked curious experiments on the part of other wood engravers. duplat, at the beginning of this century, proposed to prepare a relief on stone, and as this would be broken under pressure, he invented a mould; that is to say, he took a leaden matrix from the stone cutting, and ran a resistant metal into this mould, thus obtaining a relief similar to the stone. renouard, the publisher, made the trials; and the younger moreau made the designs. moreau become an essayer of processes in ! one of the plates of la fontaine's _fables_, published by renouard in , in two volumes, mo, is here reproduced. [illustration: fig. .--experiment in engraving in relief by moreau le jeune for renouard's edition of la fontaine's _fables_.] it appears, however, that the publisher was thwarted by bad printing. the printers of didot or mame, much as they consecrated all their care to it, did not yet know perfect workmanship; they put the most intense blacks into fine sheets. the great publishers trusted that better days would leave to more clever men the task of perfecting the invention. [illustration: fig. .--portrait of thomas bewick.] wood engraving owes its revival and almost perfection in england to thomas bewick, who published his first work in , his "general history of quadrupeds" , and his "birds" . in these works he not only depicted his subjects with the most scrupulous fidelity, but in the tailpieces of the several chapters he drew the most quaint, humorous, and faithful representations of country life. he, with his brother, john bewick, and their pupils, among whom was luke clennell, had an influence upon english art and the decoration of the book in england which exists to our day. not alone with us, for he may be said to have repaid the debt which we owed to france for her illustrated books of the eighteenth century by stimulating the art of wood engraving, which was practised by tony johannot and the other illustrators of the nineteenth century. to return to the eighteenth century, with which this chapter is specially occupied, we have said that the royal printing house, after various fortunes, still existed; and in it worked, for better or for worse, at the louvre. according to the budget of that year, it cost the king , livres, of which the director had , . there were, on the other hand, a certain number of official printing offices, that of war, for example, which was devoted entirely to the work of the ministry. it was situated at versailles, and was created in . it is told of louis xv. that, being one day in this workshop, he found a pair of spectacles, left as if in inadvertence on a printed sheet. as his sight was weakening, he took the spectacles and looked through them. the sheet was a hyperbolical eulogium composed, as if at random, by the director bertier, in honour of the king. louis xv., having read the dithyramb, replaced the spectacles, and quietly said, "they are too strong; they make objects too large." who would believe that at the end of the century of voltaire and rousseau a craftsman would be found desirous of leading back the typographical art to its cradle, and of making xylographs again, under the name of polytypes? a german was the original who conceived the plan. he obtained an order of council for the establishment of his presses in , but the same council suppressed them st november, . his process was to substitute for movable characters a plate of fixed letters, and probably engraved. another eccentricity of typography at the end of the century was the introduction of "logography" by john walter, the proprietor and printer of the _times_ newspaper, which consisted in casting whole the words in most common use, in place of separate letters. the system had soon to be abandoned, but the early numbers of the _times_, which was started january st, , were printed on it. in the eighteenth century there was a printing establishment for each of the constituted bodies; the king, the queen, the princes, each had their own. the royal lottery occupied a special printing house. the young inmates of the blind asylum worked under the direction of m. clousier, royal printer. louis xvi. authorised the celebrated haüy, their master, to allow them to print; and in they composed an essay on the education of the blind. pierre françois didot was in printer to the prince, afterwards louis xviii.; and he published the _aventures de télémaque_, in two quarto volumes, from this special printing office. the english colonies in north america early established printing there, their first book, the "book of psalms," known as the bay psalm book, being dated . by the middle of the eighteenth century literature held a strong position in the colonies, the greater part of it being, as might be expected, english; but the revolution and subsequent establishment of the united states created a national american literature, which has flourished to this day. among the printers of north america in the eighteenth century, the most famous was the celebrated philosopher dr. benjamin franklin, who served his apprenticeship to the printing press in london. he returned to america in , and worked as a printer with his brother at philadelphia. [illustration] chapter vi. the book in the nineteenth century. the didots and their improvements--the folio racine--the school of didot--fine publications in england and germany--literature and art of the restoration--romanticism--wood engraving--bewick's pupils, clennell, etc.--the illustrators of romances--the generation of --the book in our days in europe and america. political imitators had not been found for the french revolution in all the neighbouring countries of europe, but its greco-roman art established itself, and by degrees was introduced into the studios of painters and the printing offices. prud'hon, gerard, girodet, and later desenne, without counting the younger moreau and his contemporaries of the older regime, rallied to the new study, forming a school of illustrators and vignettists with which the publishers could resolutely advance. england followed suit with flaxman, west, fuseli, barry, and a crowd of others. among the publishers the powerful family of the didots took first rank, and its members, at once type-founders, printers, booksellers, and _savants_ of the first order, were the best fitted to direct an artistic and literary movement. when napoleon crowned himself emperor of the french, the elders of the family had already brought about a number of perfections and discoveries in their profession by which their workshops had profited. françois ambroise, who died in the year of the empire, had given an exact proportion to types, a free and elegant turn, but perhaps too regular and precise to be agreeable. he had also invented a press called the _presse à un coup_, in which the impression was taken by a single pull instead of being produced by a series of successive strikings. his brother, pierre françois, spoken of in the preceding chapter, was a type-founder and paper-maker at essones, and counted among his official titles "printer to the comte de provence," as françois ambroise was to the comte d'artois. of these two branches equally faithful to typography, pierre didot, son of françois ambroise, became the head on the death of his father. born in , he had studied his art with passion, and had merited the installation of his workshops in the louvre, where he published a celebrated collection known as the louvre editions, the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of which was the works of racine. the splendid execution of this book, in three large folio volumes, was a true typographical revolution. never in any country had scrupulous perfection of detail been joined to so masterly a knowledge of disposition and form of characters. the great artists of the davidian school had the honour of seeing their drawings reproduced as illustrations, and those named above designed the fifty-seven plates with which the edition was adorned. pierre didot displayed a great affectation in only printing two hundred and fifty copies of his irreproachable and marvellous work, of which a hundred had proofs of the plates before letters. published by subscription, the ordinary edition was issued at , francs, and with proofs , francs. to these superb works firmin didot, his brother, added ingenious discoveries. struck with certain difficulties of printing as well as of correction, he imagined the welding together of the types of a forme, when once obtained without faults, so as to avoid the trouble of new composition. this process, useless for books of small number, had a capital importance in the case of reimpressions of popular and successful works. he named this method stereotype, and from he published a racine in mo by this method; but the originality of the method, which he was the first to call stereotype, ended with its name, for the process had already been discovered by william ged, a goldsmith of edinburgh, in , the first book produced in this manner being an edition of sallust, printed in , vo, "non typis mobilibus ut vulgo fieri solet, sed tabellis seu laminis fusis, excudebat." this admirably directed house, we may indeed say this school of typography, formed with renouard, claye, rignoux, and others, the greater number of the french publishers of the middle of the century. when the czar alexander went to paris, he wished to do honour to the greatest french practitioners in the science of printing, in the persons of the brothers pierre and firmin didot. but these were not the only ones. the sons of pierre françois, henri and pierre françois ii.--the latter specially applied himself to paper-making, under the name of didot st. leger--followed in the footsteps of their father and uncle. pierre françois made at essones an excellent paper, which he brought to the perfection of making it in endless rolls, such as are made to-day for rotary machines. bernardin de st. pierre retired to essones about the end of the last century, and there married the daughter of pierre françois ii. it is a curious coincidence that the same village contained at once the man whose works at the beginning of the century had so extraordinary a success and the great family of printers who had given definitive impetus to typographical work. it was in this tranquil circle that the author of "paul and virginia," at the age of sixty, sought repose; that the publication of his book was resolved upon with all the luxury due to its success, with admirable type and with plates by prud'hon and others. he added to it the _chaumière indienne_, written in , on the eve of the terror, which is one of the most delicate novels of the time. the homely and sweet literature of bernardin de st. pierre, the heroic inventions of girodet, gerard, and chaudet in the greek or roman style, the clever but severe typography of the didots--such is the composition of the book at the beginning of the century, and also its avowed tendency and good taste. under louis xv. the nymphs carried panniers; polyeucte had peruke and sword. it would be unbecoming not to give juno or venus the head-dress adopted in paintings and vignettes. at the time which now occupies us fashion in clothing directed designers also. the hair of goddesses was _à la titus_; the waist was under the arms; golden circles were on the brow. simple mortals walked naked on the roads, with plumed casques and superb shields. there were heroes putting forth their disproportioned arms, others raising their eyes to heaven in impossible attitudes. such were all the vignettes, from girodet to the humblest, the last, the most forgotten. it happens, by an oddity of which the cause is vainly sought, that this classic and revolutionary school of david identifies itself so well with the napoleonic epoch, then with the people of the restoration, that it seems expressly made for them. at the same time, under louis xviii. and charles x. the romans and greeks had not the bold carriage of their early days; they became more citizenised, and assumed the air of the national guards of the kingdom of which later an excessive use was made. england also had a splendid series of publishers and printers. from boydell, harding, the murrays, fisher; from bulmer, bensley, strahan, the whittinghams, and hansard, to our day, there has been an unbroken and constantly increasing line of clever, practical men, adorning the professions to which they devoted their energies, often realising that fortune which properly directed energies command. in the first half of the century a vast number of splendidly printed books were issued, ornamented in the most lavish manner with beautiful illustrations, engraved on steel or copper plates, and with delicate woodcuts. book illustration in england may be said now to have reached perfection. when the banker-poet samuel rogers wished to bring out an illustrated edition of his works, he employed the two most capable artists of the time, thomas stothard and j. m. w. turner; and they produced an admirable series of designs, which were exquisitely engraved by finden, goodall, and pye. the work was printed by t. davidson, in two volumes, octavo: the "italy" in and the "poems" in ; these two volumes, from the perfect harmony of the typography and illustration and their combined beauty, may be referred to as the perfection of book-making. a very charming series of volumes is found in the "annuals," "keepsakes," "amulets," and similar annual publications, illustrated with beautiful steel plates by the best engravers. the splendidly printed and illustrated bibliographical works of dr. t. f. dibdin may also be mentioned. they extend to several volumes, and were printed by bulmer and his successors nicoll and t. bensley, illustrated by engraved plates and woodcuts by f. c. lewis and others. h. g. bohn, besides the fine series known as "bohn's libraries," numbering over six hundred volumes, in every branch of literature, art, and science, published many finely illustrated books, and as a bookseller had the largest stock of his day. charles knight did marvels in popularising literature in his day. william pickering published a long series of very beautiful books, and in conjunction with charles whittingham, printer, of the far-famed chiswick press, revived the aldine or old-faced types; one of the most beautiful of his publications was sir harris nicolas's edition of walton's "angler," in two volumes, imperial octavo, with a very fine set of steel plates, designed by stothard and engraved by augustus fox and w. j. cooke, besides engraved vignettes and representations of fish drawn by inskipp. in germany perhaps the most remarkable achievement of the century is the extraordinary series of volumes of english authors, now ( ) numbering , , issued by baron tauchnitz, of leipzig, which, although eminently popular in their character, are well and tastefully printed. among the most notable of the printing and publishing houses of germany, many of them combining the two trades, are j. g. cotta, dating from ; breitkopf and härtel, dating from ; justus perthes, founded ; t. o. weigel, ; f. a. brockhaus, ; b. g. teubner, ; w. drugulin, ; j. j. weber, , etc. germany has advanced with england and france in fine typography and illustration in their several kinds. the modern school of book illustration in germany undoubtedly has its origin in the influence given to it by the designs of the artist adolph menzel, amongst which a series of two hundred illustrations to the works of frederick the great, engraved on wood by the vogels, unzelman and müller, show him to be one of the most powerful and accurate draughtsmen of the century. to return to france, a new literature arose that was to react against the greek full of gallicisms; but the movement, in reversing the ancient state of things, in wishing to replace antiquity by the middle ages, old romans by old french, completely changed the physiognomy of the book. the engraved vignette and the copper plate of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were to lose their supremacy and to give way to etching and wood engraving, also a revival of the middle ages. [illustration: fig. .--wood engraving by clennell after west, for the diploma of the highland society.] it is not sufficiently known that wood engraving, after the unfortunate attempts of papillon in france, was restored in england by thomas bewick, who founded a school, of which, at the commencement of our century, clennell and the brothers thompson were members. one of the thompsons went to france about the middle of the restoration, doubtless with the hope of profiting by his art, and he offered to the print department of the national library the diploma of the highland society, a large folio wood block, very adroit and very curiously cut, after the drawing of the celebrated benjamin west, and copied from clennell's original block of the same subject. m. duchesne, then keeper of the prints, speaks of this last process as of an apparition: "this print makes apparent the long-neglected and often reappearing art of wood engraving, which, though it could never equal copper engraving, nevertheless merits the attention of amateurs when a capable hand is exercised upon it." it was, we see, a curiosity then, this relief cutting, of which the resurrection was to give an enormous impulse to the book from the facilities of printing and the economies realised by the possibility of intercalation in periodicals. in fact, metal printing necessitated so much trouble, more for engraving than for the impression. with wood blocks surrounded by type the ordinary press sufficed. the _magasin pittoresque_, which was commenced in , and the success of which from the first was very great, was born of these new combinations. before it the _messager boiteux_ of strasbourg and other popular almanacs progressed very well with their illustrations on wood. a kind of firm of engravers, at the head of which were best and andrew, undertook the illustrations of the _magasin pittoresque_. in a few years progress was immense, other publications came into existence, and a definitive return was made to the vignette in relief. the french illustrated paper preceded our _illustrated london news_ by nine years. lavish use was now made of wood engraving, which had thus been suddenly revived in the very midst of the new romantic effervescence, amid a war of books, which, in order to please, had above all to captivate the eye, reacting at once against the spirit and the art of the restoration. never before had artists to such an extent taken active part in a purely literary warfare. all the fantastic tendencies of young france were embodied in the lame and halting lines of the time and similar wretched doggerel. doubtless the leaders of the school did not go quite so far, and their reputation even suffered from such theories; but, as always happens in such cases, the disciples outstripped their masters. [illustration: fig. .--vignette by devéria for the _fiancé de la tombe_.] the brothers johannot were the first to join in the fray, under the flag of the poets and others of the romantic school, such as victor hugo, de vigny, paul lacroix, george sand, and devéria, most ruthless of illustrators. the last-named had designed vignettes on wood, of all others, for baour-lormian, that is to say for the foe of the new ideas, at once the interpreter of ossian and the bourgeois bard, full of fire and fury against everything in turn. the _légendes, ballades, et fabliaux_, illustrated by devéria in , although a sort of compromise with the lovesick swains of mediæval times, did not escape the shafts of ridicule. in the midst of this movement the book became democratic; it was printed on sugar-paper for reading-rooms and scullery maids. the generation of romancists diffused its paper-covered works, printing a thousand copies and selling five hundred with great difficulty. poets publishing five hundred were happy with a sale of two hundred and fifty. unheard-of titles were then needed to catch the eye, ridiculous and ghastly frontispieces to tickle the fancy of the riffraff. paul lacroix called himself the "bibliophile jacob," and invented surprising headpieces and foolish designs. and then, as in the fifteenth century, as in the old times, certain signs become popular with the reading public. in the place of the doctrinals, complaints, and disputes, so common in the titles of those epochs, new fancies spring up and have their day. eccentric devices recommend romantic trash, in which the assassin's dagger, blood, and the horrors of the tomb have replaced the insipid fantasies of the fallen regime. pétrus borel, the werewolf, a sort of historic ghoul prowling about the graveyards, enjoyed a monopoly, as it were, of the ghastly titles and contents of this charnel-house literature; it was for his _champavert_, published in , that gigoux composed a kind of bluebeard surrounded by female skeletons, that opened the eyes of publishers to his value as a vignettist. although he threw himself soul and body into the romantic movement, the young artist did not alone design subjects called "abracadabrants," following the neologism of the time, any more than the booksellers only published romances. an attempt was made, by publishing them in parts, to still further popularise the old writers at all harmonising with the current taste. the publisher paulin thus issued the _gil blas_ of le sage, with illustrations in the text by the younger gigoux, of which the best was hoped. the history of this celebrated enterprise has been written by the artist himself in the curious _causeries_ published recently by him, fifty years after his work on gil blas; and this interesting view of an epoch already far distant gives us in a few words the ordinary economy of these popular impressions in parts. [illustration: fig. .--vignette by john gigoux for _gil blas_.] it appears that paulin, publisher in the rue de seine, not being very well off, had associated himself with a man of business named dubochet, who had before made an enormous fortune with gas. the two represented fifteen thousand to twenty thousand francs, and they ordered a hundred drawings on wood from the young artist. he set to work with precaution, for dubochet was hard to please, without knowing much about the business, and fined the engravers for the least faults. gigoux set himself to give his compositions in simple line, without complicated shadows, so as to allow the wood-cutters to preserve a free outline. it was nearly the same thing as the process of the old artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, of vostre and holbein: true engraving in relief. the success of the first sheets was extraordinary; new vignettes were ordered from gigoux; in place of a hundred they wanted three hundred, then four hundred; then at the end of the work they counted six hundred at least. money filled the chests of the firm, but when the artist claimed a small share of the benefits, they laughed in his face. properly speaking, it was the first serious attempt at illustration by the recovered method of engraving in relief, but it was not the only one. curmer, the publisher of the rue richelieu, prepared a bible in and several other volumes, among which were the "paul and virginia" and the _chaumière indienne_ of bernardin de st. pierre. he had also collected around him a circle of artists that included wattier, devéria, and meissonier, who was the most perfect and correct of the designers on wood. meissonier designed very soberly, without effects of light, little scenes admirably cut by an engraver named lavoignat, a master in the largest sense of the word. curmer wrote in in the preface to one of his books, "we hope we have raised a monument to wood engraving. it is easy to judge of the resources presented by this art. we are compelled to have recourse to england to accomplish our work. peace to willing publishers!" [illustration: fig. .--vignette by daumier for the _cholera à paris_.] curmer acknowledges the importance of english specialists in this new process for vignettes, and the willing publishers were not wanting; they came from all parts. he himself did not stop on the way; he continued his work on a large scale; and charles blanc was able to say of him later, as well as of furne, "he desired to illustrate books for everybody, as the great booksellers of the last century had illustrated their rare editions for a small number of privileged persons." but he did not always confine himself to wood engraving; he also employed etching and lithography. these, requiring separate printing, did not make intercalation with the text any easier than engraving with the burin; but they served to illustrate periodicals, the _charivari_ and _l'artiste_, as well as some books, where they replaced the engraved plates of the preceding century. at the same time, the latter process was not altogether neglected; about it was revived, and steel was used in place of copper, as it better resisted repeated impressions. the publisher furne, while he employed wood engraving, adorned with separate plates on steel his better publications. for him worked raffet, one of the romanticists enamoured of the napoleonic epic, which he had popularised, with charlet and bellangé, by the pencil, wood, and lithography. raffet had transferred upon wood, as if in play, the three hundred and fifty-one vignettes of the _histoire de napoléon_, by de norvins, which would to-day suffice for the glory and reputation of many artists. in fact, the analytical and inductive spirit of the artist led him to leave nothing to the chances of inspiration and commonplace of illustration. he laboriously reconstituted, fragment by fragment, the physiognomy of the "old army;" and imbued with the perfect science of detail, he allowed his pencil full play in bold and luminous inventions, where may be seen again, with their peculiar appearance, the heroes of other days, the soldiers of the rhine and italy, of austerlitz and waterloo. a truly lively period was that of , a living and unthinking generation. by the side of those great artists of whom we have spoken, and who will be more admired some day, there were the fantasists traviès and daumier, who adorned the illustrated journals with innumerable sketches, and grandville and gavarni, one caricaturing animals in a celebrated book, _les animaux peints par eux-mêmes_, which is more than a _chef-d'oeuvre_; the other coolly studying the vices and faults of his time, with the precision of an anatomist, in _les anglais peints par eux-mêmes_ of labedollière, in the _diable à paris_, without counting a thousand other works which his penetrating imagination produced. [illustration: fig. .--vignette by gavarni for _paris marié_.] presently photography came, which was to reverse completely the conditions of illustration of the book by the numerous means of reproduction to which it gave birth. then wood engraving entered on a new phase, a complete transformation of its ordinary terms, under the influence of gustave doré. little by little it had been attempted to render in relief that which engraved plates only had hitherto done. black, half-tints, lowered tones, were tried where formerly a simple line, bold and spirited, signified everything. the house of hachette, founded by one of the normal teachers of the liberal movement, at the beginning of the century, was, together with lahure, the promoter of relief so inclusive and practical. the numerous periodicals of these publishers spread the taste afar. england, for its part, entered on the road, followed by america and germany. to-day wood engravings have reached perfection, finesse, and suppleness; but they are not, properly speaking, engravings on wood. [illustration: fig. .--balzac writing his _contes drôlatiques_. vignette by gustave doré.] [illustration: fig. .--wood block by bewick, from his "fables," . the fox and the goat.] we have seen that french publishers were largely indebted to english wood engravers for their blocks. the school that was established by bewick and his pupils made enormous progress. from the "fables," published in , we reproduce an illustration as also a specimen from the second volume of the "british birds." luke clennell was one of the most distinguished of bewick's pupils; and he made some excellent blocks, among them the illustrations to an edition of rogers's "poems" ( ), engraved from pen-and-ink drawings by thomas stothard. it was stothard's opinion that wood engraving best reproduced pen-and-ink drawings. other pupils of bewick were j. jackson, john thompson, who engraved harvey's beautiful illustrations to milton and henderson's "history of wines," s. williams, orrin smith, robert branston, and c. nesbit. the most prolific and perhaps the most popular book-illustrator of the century in england, was george cruikshank, who engraved most of his own designs on wood, steel, or with the etching needle; the catalogue of his works by mr. g. w. reid, formerly keeper of the prints in the british museum, occupies three quarto volumes. the designs of "phiz," as h. k. browne called himself, largely contributed to the popularity of the works of charles dickens; and the mere mention of richard doyle and john leech will recall the palmy days of _punch_, although both of these artists did excellent work in book illustration. from the days of the bewicks to the present wood engraving has formed the most widely used means of illustration in england and the united states. its adaptability to the printing machine renders it admirably suited to the production of books in large numbers and at low expense. without it we could not have our _graphics_ and _illustrated news_, nor the floods of cheap but splendidly illustrated magazines which are appearing on both sides of the atlantic. true, many of these blocks are due to the "processes" which photography has made available, but they are nevertheless the outcome of wood engraving. we cannot leave this subject without mentioning the admirable "treatise on wood engraving," by w. a. chatto, with numerous illustrations, published originally by h. g. bohn in and since reprinted. [illustration: fig. .--wood block from bewick's "british birds." the common duck.] [illustration: fig. .--wood engraving by clennell, after stothard, for rogers's poems, .] in our days the great paris publishers have returned to the books of the eighteenth century, ornamented with vignettes on copper; many of them purely and simply imitate by photographic processes the pretty editions of eisen and moreau, but they do not merit the name which they bear. as to those whose specialty is handsome books with figures by contemporary artists, those who always are in the front, as the mames, quantins, hachettes, plons, jouausts, of france; the longmans, murrays, macmillans, kegan pauls, cassells, and chattos of england; the harpers, scribners, lippincotts, and houghtons of the united states, they are to us what the ancients of whom we have spoken were to their contemporaries. now the processes of illustration are without number: wood, metal, heliogravure, phototype, and others. and if the mechanical means, if the heliogravures, have at present the importance claimed, they by no means add to the intrinsic value of wood engravings, but to the rapidity and economy of their manufacture. the book, the true book, has nothing to do with all these inventions, and may well confine itself to the burin or the relief block. but as regards the book, properly so called, it never was the object of more excessive care or of more unfortunate precipitation. it may be remarked that works least destined to live in the libraries, those thousands of lame pamphlets on questions of small provincial erudition or the cap-and-sword romances, are ordinarily the best and most carefully printed, in opposition to other more important works composed in heads of nails and on worn-out paper. there are in reading-rooms a good number of pamphlets that will not be found in fifty years, and will be worth their weight in banknotes, even if dirty and tattered, on account of their intrinsic value. [illustration] chapter vii. types, impression, paper, ink. after this summary, and necessarily very compressed, sketch of the general history of the book, it will not be without importance to place some technical information before the reader, to explain as clearly as possible the function of the presses, the practical side of typography, from the engraving of the character and the founding of types up to the binding, taking by the way composition, impression, and collation. many of these operations have been already sketched in the preceding part of our work; we have spoken of engraving of the punch, of impression, of the thousand details that constitute the typographic art, and the knowledge of which is so little diffused. we return to it now, with more method, on the different subjects, and shall try to point out the principal features. we have seen in our first chapter what patient researches the discovery necessitated for the mayence printers in the founding of the character in matrix. true, the punch and the matrix had existed from time immemorial for coins and seals. to engrave in relief a punch of material hard enough to strike a resisting metal, and to run into the space obtained by this blow a melted alloy, which took at its extremity the same form as the punch had given, is, in a few words, the whole economy of the process. for the engraving of the punches a sort of burin of tempered steel was used, which scooped out the part intended to remain white in the letter. from the beginning the printers themselves engraved their own characters. the most ancient, whose constant preoccupation was the imitation of manuscript, copied the gothic letter of ordinary writing. soon afterwards, jenson, the french refugee at venice, designed a round letter, like that of sweynheim and pannartz, the roman publishers, in ; and his type, absolutely perfect, is used to this day. in france the introducers of the invention in paris also imitated the roman, but multiplied abbreviations until they became tedious. we can imagine what the engraving of a character could be where so few letters stood alone, where lines abridged the nasals; the words _pro_, _pre_, figured as in manuscripts; the sign signified _cum_ or _con_ in latin or french words, without reckoning a thousand other rigorous usages. this truly perplexing profusion of signs as well as the want of precision and clearness in the letter enables us now to recognise the first parisian _incunabula_.[a] [footnote a: see above, figs. , , .] the first english printers used gothic or black letter. caxton brought his first fount from cologne, but that which he made afterwards for himself was of the same character. wynkyn de worde, pynson, and their successors used the same style; and for official publications and bibles the black letter was used up to the seventeenth century. [illustration: fig. .--type-founder in the middle of the sixteenth century. engraving by jost amman.] but the art of the founder-engraver was destined to specialise itself. there were artisans in this branch, and among them in france, in the fifteenth century, simon de collines, who engraved good roman characters about . later was claude garamond, of paris, who died about , a pupil of geoffroy tory, the most celebrated of all of them; tory definitely proscribed the gothic character, of which vostre and verard had made constant use. garamond worked in this way, producing with microscopical precision new letters, among others those of robert estienne, the most marvellous and the most distinct. it was he who was charged by francis i. to form the celebrated royal greek types. he assisted in getting up the _champfleury_ of geoffroy tory. on his death william lebé succeeded him, and inherited his punches. lebé engraved by preference hebrew characters, of which he made a specialty. his travels to rome and venice had given him a singular value in his art; and when he died about the end of the century, he was incontestably the first cutter of oriental characters in the whole world. philip ii. of spain had begged him to engrave the letters of the bible of which plantin had undertaken the impression, and francis i. had charged him to make types for the estiennes. at the commencement of the seventeenth century we find james sanlecque, pupil of lebé, and his son. during this period several women succeeded their husbands as type-founders. in the eighteenth century philip grandjean, an artist who was royal printer to louis xiv., was keeper of the foundry afterwards united, in , to the royal printing house; fournier succeeded the lebés, then p. s. fournier the younger, who engraved with great success. in our days we have seen above the didots themselves working their punches; and one of them, henri, founded microscopical characters for a la rochefoucauld about the middle of the nineteenth century. we have referred to english type-founders of the eighteenth century in chapter v. the type, or character used in printing, is a composition of lead and pure antimony, which, melted, form a resisting and at the same time supple mixture. lead alone would be crushed, and the first printers often suffered in making their experiments. the proportion of the mixture is four of lead to one of antimony. the matrix is combined in such manner that the _eye_--that is to say, the part of the character intended to produce the impression--and also the shank intended to hold the letter are cast together. the letters, once founded according to their different forms, are afterwards disposed in boxes with compartments, or "cases." these cases serve to classify the character by letters, italics, capitals, lower case, punctuations, accents, etc. as we have said, the relation of letters among themselves in the composition of a language is called the "fount." for example, it is certain that the italian employs the letter _a_ more than _b_, the letter _a_ appearing in nearly every word; a compositor to compose in this language should therefore have more of _a_ than of _b_. the relation between these two letters and all the others is the "fount." in french the proportion of a fount is about , _a_ for _b_, , _c_, , _d_, , _e_, etc. the fount varies with the languages. in english the proportion is , _a_ to , _b_, , _c_, , _d_, etc. before there were in all twenty different "bodies" of letters that bore fantastic names. the "parisienne" was the smallest size, and the "grosse nonpareille" the largest. in the sixteenth century a character called "civilité" was invented. it sought to imitate fine cursive writing. in the last century this idea was reproduced, and the "bâtarde coulée," which did not have great success, was made. in english types, joseph moxon in had eleven sizes; caslon in had thirty-eight. [illustration: specimen of imposition] when a printer wishes to compose a work, he first decides in which body he will print it. his choice made, he places in the compositors' "cases"--that is, in the boxes placed before each one of his workmen--the chosen character, with its italics, capitals, signs, etc. then he gives them the "copy," that is to say the manuscript of the author to be reproduced. the compositors take a "galley" according to the size of the book; and, letter by letter, by running their fingers through the different cases, they place side by side the words laboriously composed, and necessarily presenting their reverse, so that they will show their proper face when printed. the composition terminated, the process of "imposition" takes place. this is the disposition by pages in an iron chase, in such manner that the sheet of paper shall be printed on both sides, the pages exactly following one another. it will be seen by the specimen on the preceding page that if the two sheets be brought together, page of ii. will fall exactly opposite page of i, page opposite page , and so on. nothing is easier than this combination for folio, quarto, or octavo sizes, but as the smaller sizes are multiplied even to mo, tables are necessary to prevent error. the imposition is completed by building up the composition in a chase by means of pieces of metal called "furniture," which regulate the margins. when the whole is in proper place, it is squeezed up and adjusted by means of sunk reglets. the chase may now be placed under the press without fear of the characters falling out or getting mixed. a pressman takes a "proof" after having rubbed the relief of the characters with ink, and on this proof are corrected the author's or compositor's faults by indications in the margin by understood signs. by this amended proof the compositor amends his faults one by one: leaves out superfluous characters, puts turned characters straight, spaces or draws closer the lines, etc. the corrections finished, the time has come to print. in the time of geoffroy tory this operation was made as we shall explain; it was the same before and the same after. two pressmen have tempered with water the tympan, or more elastic part of the carriage, against which will be directed in good time the blow from the type; they have also damped the paper intended for the impression, so that it may retain the greasy ink with which the characters are charged; then the formes are washed before putting them under the press. in the figure which we reproduce, which dates from about , we see the workshop of jodocus badius, of asch, father-in-law of two celebrated printers, vascosan and robert estienne. the press rolls--that is to say, the formes--have been placed in the "carriage," or movable chase, which, coming forward, receives the sheet of paper and the ink, and returns under the press to receive the blow of the "bar." in the room, lighted by two windows, the compositors work. in front one works at the bar, while his comrade distributes the ink on the "balls." these balls are leather pads, on which the greasy ink, made of lampblack and oil, is spread, to more easily rub the forme after each blow. ordinarily the inker had two functions: he prepared the ink, distributed it, and kept his eye on the printed sheets to correct faults, blots, and difference of tint. here the workman is simply occupied by the balls. printed sheets and prepared paper are on a table by the side of the press. this press is composed of the rolling chase, the tympan, and the "frisket," a smaller tympan, which work against one another. the tympan, we have said above, receives directly the blow. and it was so for nearly four centuries; the mechanical means of our days have a little changed the work, but the principle is always the same. [illustration: fig. .--mark of jodocus badius of asch, representing the interior of a printing office about . engraving _à la croix de lorraine_.] towards the end of the sixteenth century, a press cost about a hundred and twenty-seven crowns, with its diverse utensils, as may be seen in an unpublished piece analysed by dr. giraudet, of tours, in a very interesting pamphlet: _une association d'imprimeurs et de libraires de paris réfugiés à tours au xvi^e siècle_. the workshop of jamet métayer, of tours, cost a rent of eighty-three crowns--about twenty pounds of current money. workmen were then paid by the "day;" and it came to be one of the expressions then so much used in manual labour, corresponding to the sum of the least work of a good workman. m. ladevèze, printer, thought that the "day" represented the work of about twenty thousand roman or cicero letters employed by a compositor. with us the "day" of compositors and pressmen is differently calculated. the latter have to take a certain number of sheets. the sheet, composition and press work, cost nearly seven crowns, or nearly two pounds. jamet métayer paid twenty crowns for four sheets in italics; he demanded three months for the work. the primitive presses were wooden screw presses, and they so remained until the beginning of this century, when lord stanhope, a celebrated electrician, author, and politician, perfected them and gave his name to a new machine. his improvement consisted in that the bar was no longer fixed to the vice, but to a cylinder outside. a counter-weight brought back the platen at each blow. pierre didot had previously made metal platens. in the use of the stanhope press commenced in france. england had, besides, taken a preponderating place in typographical invention. the printer of the _times_, john walter, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, seeking to publish his journal quicker, associated himself with craftsmen who constructed mechanical presses for him. the didots lost no time, and themselves made improvements. in , the presses of the _constitutionnel_, thanks to the application of steam, produced twenty thousand papers an hour. in our time there are machines that print only on one side, as well as double machines, printing both sides at once. the rotary machines, with endless paper, take thirty-five thousand impressions an hour. in the newspaper machines of marinoni, the great inventor, the paper is unrolled, printed, cut, and folded without leaving the machine, and falls into a place from which it is taken ready for the subscriber. the latest perfection of the printing press is the walter press and the rotary machine of r. hoe and co., of new york, extensively used throughout the world. the elaborate book has little to do with these marvellous processes, although in its turn it largely benefits by the improvement of the printing machine. it is apart from our purpose to speak at length on the manufacture of paper. it is certain that it was well made before the invention of printing, for most of the accounts of the fifteenth century are written on linen paper, very resisting and well sized. later on rags were used in this manufacture; and here, in a few words, is how paper was made in the mould, or "hand-made" before the invention of machinery for the purpose:-- [illustration: fig. .--paper-making. workman engaged on the tub with the frame of wires. engraving by jost amman.] the rags, having been thoroughly cleansed, were put into vats, where they were worked up under a beating press until they were reduced to pulp. this pulp was thrown into hot water and stirred until the mixture was uniformly made. then a mould of fine wire cloth, fixed upon a wooden frame, and having a "deckle" to determine the size of the sheet, was taken; in the middle of this frame was disposed, also in brass wire, a factory mark, intended to appear in white in the sheet of paper, and called the "water mark." this mould was dipped into the vat of pulp and drawn out again. after gently shaking it to and fro in a horizontal position, the fibres of the pulp became so connected as to form one uniform fabric; and the water escaped through the wires. the deckle was then removed from the mould, and the sheet of paper turned off upon a felt, in a pile with many others, a felt intervening between each sheet, and the whole subjected to great pressure, in order to absorb the superfluous water. after being dried and pressed without the felts, the sheets were dipped into a tub of size and again pressed to remove surplus size. this primitive method of paper-making is represented in fig. , and the same principle is still in use for the production of hand-made paper. machinery has effected many improvements and economies in the production of woven paper. china and japan have their special paper manufacture. in japan the material employed is the bark of the _morus papifera sativa_. [illustration: balance used by jenson, at venice.] according to their fineness, size, and weight, papers have received different names, proceeding from the water mark. faust at mayence used paper marked with a bull's head. jenson at venice used a balance of which the form varied. this latter came from a mill which furnished vicenza, perugia, and rome. jenson used, besides a crown, a cardinal's hat. the bull's head underwent transformations, it had stars and roses, and was special to germany, and it may sometimes be found in italy. the wires and bridges served to determine the size of a book. looking at a folio leaf against the light, the wires will be seen to be horizontal, and the bridges vertical. in quarto they will be reversed, the paper having been folded in four instead of in two. the bridges become horizontal. they return to the vertical in octavo, and so on. as for ink, it was from the beginning a composition of lampblack and oil of different quality and nature, mixed with resin to obtain a greater and quicker dryness. ink for engravings was more carefully made. for coloured inks various powders are mixed with the oil and resin, and a title in red and black has to go through the press twice: once for the red and once for the black. from the above it can be understood that illustrations in relief can easily be introduced into the composition, whether in combination with text or in separate pages. another question presents itself: did the old printers employ casting, or did they print directly from the wood block itself? in other words, the block having been cut, did they make with it a mould into which melted metal could be poured to obtain a more resistant relief? the fact is difficult to elucidate. it appears to-day that simon vostre, verard, and others printed relief engravings on metal, but were they cut directly or obtained by casting, as they are now? it cannot be determined yet. chapter viii. bookbinding. the binding of the first printed books--ancient german bindings--binding in the time of louis xii.--italian bindings--aldus--maioli--grolier--francis i.--henri ii. and diane de poitiers--catherine de medicis--henri iii.--the eves--the "fanfares"--louis xiii.--le gascon--florimond badier--louis xiv.--morocco leathers--cramoisy--the bindings of the time of louis xiv.--the regency--pasdeloup--the deromes--dubuisson--thouvenin--lesné--the nineteenth century--english binders--roger payne--francis bedford. leading the reader now towards the final perfection of the book: printing, which had stirred up and reversed so many things, created, so to speak, the art of binding. previously the binder was simply a workman sewing together the leaves of a manuscript, with no science or device but to clasp the whole together solidly with cord and string. as luxury increased the old binder was no longer thought of. on the wooden boards which closed the book, jewellers encrusted their wares, lavishing ivory and precious stones to the taste of the amateur or the bookseller. generally these works covered books of precious miniatures, the _horoe_, or manuscripts that were deemed worthy of such magnificent clothing, rarely copies without importance. printing at once disordered the tribe of copyists as well as the binders did jewellers. the demand increasing, rich bindings were soon abandoned, and each bookseller applied himself to the work, or at least covered in his own house books intended for sale. the fashion was not then to expose for sale, as now, unbound books. purchasers wanted an article easy to handle, and which they were not obliged to return for ulterior embellishment. so to the public were presented the works laboriously composed by gutenberg, schoeffer, and fust, somewhat after the manner of manuscripts, which they pretended to imitate, with their solid wooden boards covered with pig or calfskin. at the four corners, copper nails, with large heads, prevented rubbing against the shelves of the bookcase, for at that time books were ranged on their sides, and not as they are to-day. we must return to the bibliomaniac of the "ship of fools" to get an idea of these depositories; before him may be seen ranged on a desk large folios, with nails on their sides, in the shelves, so defying the dust, in place of being placed upright on their edges, which rendered them liable to spots and stains. (see fig. .) unhappily the wooden sides had in themselves a germ of destruction, the worm, capable first of reducing the sides to powder and then ravaging the body of the work, the ligatures and cords. certain preparations destroy the insect, but the precaution often has no effect, and it is thus that the disappearance of volumes formerly so abundant, but almost impossible to find now, may be explained. [illustration: fig. .--bookbinder's shop in the sixteenth century. engraving by jost amman.] from the beginning the operations of the binder were what they still are, except for improvements. they consist in the collation of the sheets of a book, folding them, beating them to bring them together and give them cohesion, and sewing them, first together, then on the cords or strings, which form the five or six bands seen on the backs. primitively these cords were united to the wooden boards, and over both was placed a resistant skin, on which from relief or metal engravings were struck the most pleasing decorative subjects. pigskin, white and fine, lent itself, especially among the germans, to these fine editions; and although they were issued in great number, the wooden boards have not permitted them all to exist in our time. the most ancient that we are able to cite are german works of the time of louis xi.; they are very strong and coarse. the cords in them form an enormous and massive projection. the inside of the board was often without lining of paper or stuff. in the case of fine editions a sombre velvet was sometimes used, such as verard used to bind the books of the father of francis i., as we have before said. art did not enter into these works of preservation until about the end of the fifteenth century, with arms and emblems. at the beginning of the sixteenth century, some bindings were ornamented for louis xii. and the queen, anne de bretagne; but not more than five or six specimens remain. they are of coarse aspect. the workman who tooled the binding here reproduced from the curious example of m. dutuit, of rouen, has thrown his subjects one upon another. arms, porcupines, ermines, are treated so as to be confusing, and form a medley that is not pleasing. in recalling the delightful borders of vostre and pigouchet, contemporaries of this mediocre work, it is astonishing to see the degree of inferiority reached by a profession that should be inspired by graceful subjects of decoration. [illustration: fig. .--binding for louis xii. collection of m. dutuit, of rouen.] it happened that france again found in italy masters capable of revealing secrets of composition and arrangement to enable her to strike out a new road. the italian wars would not have had these artistic results if it had not been for the enormous sums that they swallowed up. the curious part of the enterprise was that a war treasurer, a financier, employed by the french kings in these expeditions, through his relations of taste and friendship with the alduses of venice, brought to france the love of sumptuous bindings, of editions superbly clothed. he was named jean grolier, that bibliophile of the sixteenth century, who was, above all others, even king francis, the first to appreciate the art of binding. it is not too much to say art, for if better had not been done before, it may safely be said that nothing better has been done since; and the books of grolier remain as the most perfect and most admirable types of this kind of decoration. born of an italian family established at lyons, where most of his relatives did a great business, jean grolier had the good fortune to succeed his father, stephen grolier, treasurer of the duke of milan. he became in his turn minister of finances, and was called to accompany the kings in their expeditions in italy. the situation of the treasurers during these campaigns was important; they handled the pence levied with great trouble in the cities of france "for making war." many abused their trust, and were punished, and among others the lallemants, whom documents show us to have been in connection with grolier, and who suffered, with semblançay, the most terrible trials of the time. italian art gave then a free course in the decoration of books. of the interior we have spoken in our first chapters on the wood engravings; for the exterior, the cover of the volume, foliage, golden flowers worked with a hot iron, and polychromatic compartments obtained by coloured pastes were multiplied. thus was produced on the outside that which it was not sought to obtain on the inside, the variation of tints so select among the italians, and so forsaken since the invention of printing. in the midst of these literary men was a lover of books and fine connoisseur who, not content with choosing the best editions, such as those of ferrara, venice, and basle, bound them superbly, with compartments of admirable tone, and had his name and device inscribed on the sides in the fashion of the time. he was named thomas maioli, and following the custom of the amateurs of the time, he offered the enjoyment of his library to his friends. "tho. maioli et amicorum," he inscribed, as did later grolier, as also did others, but he somewhat modified the enthusiasm of his friendship by a sceptical device, "ingratis servire nephas," which might very well be the cry of the owner of books betrayed by his borrowers. maioli did not alone use these devices; he had also a macaronic phrase of which the sense is not very clear: "inimici mei mea michi, non me michi." he also sometimes used his monogram, which was composed of all the letters of his name. the relations of grolier with this unknown and mysterious bibliophile, whose name is not always found outside his volumes, are not doubtful. brunet possessed a volume that had belonged to maioli and had passed through the hands of grolier. what better proof could be wished of the communion of ideas and tastes between the two collectors? but these amateurs were not alone. beside them were princes and great lords, lay and ecclesiastic. from the commencement of the sixteenth century bookbinding had received an enormous impulse from the tastes and the predilections for these lofty fancies. and it cannot be ascribed to the simple skill of the workmen experimenting in that line. in the century that saw italian artists occupied in making designs for mounted plates and painting beautiful ladies, the courtesans of venice could not be alarmed at finding them painting models for bindings, with compartments of varied tone and style. maioli affected white on a dark background, that is to say on a background of dark leather. he made scrolls of foliage in white or clear paste with a very happy effect. this was the time when grolier travelled in italy, in the suite of the french, and when he began his collections. he had adopted as his heraldic emblem the gooseberry bush, which in french came very near to his name--_groseillier_; and his motto was "nec herba nec arbor" ("neither tree nor herb"), explicative of the moderation of his wealth. he was soon in connection with the alduses, and through them with the principal learned men and binders of the time, for it was not in the offices of the manutiuses that could be found workmen, like those of the chamber of accounts in france, obliged to swear that they did not know how to read. the master was not hindered by details of difference of language, and it followed that his workmen understood greek and latin, for he often gave them instruction in those languages. how far off these erudite and conscientious workmen appear to-day! following the fashion, grolier put his name on the upper side of his books--"jo. grolierii et amicorum"--in gold letters, and on the other side a pious motto, the sense of which was a hope often uttered by the financiers of the sixteenth century, imprisoned and hung every instant: "portio mea, domine, sit in terra viventium." generally all the grolier books which came from the alduses have the name on the upper side and the motto on the other side; the title was placed above the name, and often disposed in rows. some large volumes had the cover ornamented with an architectural design, like the jamblichus of the libri collection, which had on the front the façade of a temple, with the title in rows on the door. this volume was printed by aldus in , and probably decorated by him for the account of the great french amateur. jean grolier is said to have himself designed some of the subjects of his ornaments, and their perfection indicates an active and enlightened supervision. on his return to france, where he had a house near the porte de bucy, he was put in relation with geoffroy tory, the artist best fitted to understand him, and who was at once painter, engraver, printer, and binder. it was there that, in the leisure of his financial functions, between two projects of revictualling the forts of outre seine and yonne, grolier invented combinations, sought interlacings, and laid out foliage. tory himself teaches us these works in combination. he invented antique letters for grolier, he tells us in his _champfleury_. it was for him, too, that he interwove so finely his compartments for binding, and that he reproduced the delightful ornaments of his books of hours in golden scrolls. as we have said, grolier placed his titles on the sides of his books on account of the arrangement of the works on the shelves of the library where they were laid. for this reason also the back was neglected, and no ornament used upon it; thick and heavy with its projecting bands, without decoration between the bands, this part of the bound volume was a kind of waste in a splendidly cultivated garden. the profusion of books brought about a revolution. there was no longer room to place on their sides the innumerable books that were produced; they were then placed on their edges, as now, and the back also was decorated. for this the bands were made to disappear, and replaced by decorative subjects in compartments like the sides. then with grolier the bands reappeared, and the title was placed between them, as it still is. the books of grolier have been divided, according to their production, in four or five principal classes, in which they may always be placed. first were the works ornamented in compartments, gilt, with scrolls in full gold; then the same with the scrolls _azurés_, that is to say equally gilt, but having parallel lines like the _azure_ of heraldry. following comes the school of geoffroy tory, with gilt compartments in the style of the great french decorator; last the polychromatic bindings, in which, by the aid of colour or mastic, the alternating tones are mixed. grolier also had some mosaic bindings, composed of little pieces of leather connected by incrustation or paste, pure italian bindings; but these were not numerous, especially if compared with those conceived in the manner of geoffroy tory. one of these latter works is here reproduced from one of the beautiful books in the collection of m. dutuit. this copy has the back flat, and the interlacings of the decoration are most complicated and clever. [illustration: fig. .--binding for grolier in the collection of m. dutuit.] grolier got his levant moroccos through the dealers of venice, to make sure of the material he employed. born in , the treasurer-general of outre seine lived until . in an original manuscript shows him much occupied with finance at over eighty-four years of age; but his passion for bindings had cooled down, for few books signed with his name are found the manufacture of which could descend to the son of henri ii. after great trials, after having seen semblançay suffer at montfaucon, john lallemand beheaded, and himself having come nearly to losing life and fortune at one blow, grolier passed away quietly in his house, having collected most of the fine books of the time and many curious medals. christopher de thou, his friend and _confrère_ in the love of books, had saved his reputation before the parliament of paris. after his death his library was transported to the hotel de vic, and from there dispersed in , a hundred years after. thus from italian art came french binding, still remaining original. the kings did not fail to follow the movement, and even to anticipate it, thanks to the means at their disposal. we have seen francis i. at work with the energy of an artisan at least; but geoffroy tory was his principal inspirer, and who knows but that he was the chief operative for the prince, as for the great financier? [illustration: fig. .--binding for francis i., with the arms of france and the salamander.] [illustration: fig. .--mark of guyot marchant, printer and bookbinder. he published the _danse macabre_ of .] we have said that louis xii. knew nothing of fine bindings. during his travels in italy he had received presentation copies of magnificently covered books, and among others that of _faustus andrelinus_, that was bound in calf in honour of the king. he, who was so little expert in fine arts, purchased the entire library of the sire de la gruthuse, and substituted his own emblems for those of the high and mighty lord. francis i., with innate sentiment for masterpieces and the powerful protection he had given them, did not allow the experiments of grolier to pass unnoticed. the king did not desire to be behind the treasurer, and the workmen were put to the task. he adopted the salamander, which emblem he used on his castles and furniture and the liveries of his people; he lavished it also on the sides of his books. on the side the "f" is often seen crowned, then the emblem of france and the collar of st. michael. in the binding of which a facsimile is here given, geoffroy tory has singularly inspired the gilder, if he did not himself make the design. for it must not be thought that this work is done at a single blow by means of an engraved plate or a block. on the contrary, every line is impressed by the hot tool that the workman applies by hand to the gold laid on in advance, making it, so to speak, enter into the skin or morocco. there is the art; blocks serve only for commercial bindings, quickly impressed and intended for ordinary purchasers. [illustration: fig. .--binding for henri ii., with the "h" and crescents.] under the reign of francis i. the binders were the booksellers, as verard and vostre were. the king was ordinarily served by a publisher named pierre roffet, and he frequently figures in accounts that have been preserved. roffet not only bound, but it appears that he rebound books to patterns which the king desired. philip lenoir and guyot marchant were also royal workmen. the latter, whose mark is here reproduced, frequently added to it the saints crispin and crispinian, patrons of the leather-dressers, who prepared the leather for the binder. [illustration: fig. .--binding for henri ii. (mazarine library)] the discoveries of grolier did not allow the binders much time to be idle. thousands of volumes were then destroyed to make the boards for sides. from this many discoveries are made in our days by pulling to pieces sixteenth century work, unknown playing cards, and early printed works. to mention only one example, twenty leaves of the "perspective" of viator were discovered in the national library of paris. the board thus formed was covered indifferently with sheepskin, parchment, calf, morocco, or goatskin; the books were sewn on raised or sunk bands, according to the owner's taste; the edges were gilt, sometimes gauffered, and designs often impressed upon them to match those of the sides. in large folios wooden boards were still used, more solid, and protected from rubbing by nails in relief. but the inside of the cover was as yet only covered with paper. leather linings were very uncommon. the reign of henri ii. increased yet more the importance of bindings; it was the time when grolier collected, and clever artists came from all parts. geoffroy tory had given the best models for letters and interlacings. the queen, catherine, derived from her parents the taste for decoration in gold and colours, and patronised the artists called by her from the court of florence; and the favourite, diane de poitiers, duchess of valentinois, rivalled her in luxury and expenditure. henri ii. in the decoration of his castles, as well as his books, introduced equivocal emblems, of which the signification may be doubtful, but those of his mistress may be recognised, not those of the legitimate queen. he interlaced two reversed "d's" by an "h," in the form shown in the border on the preceding page. strictly speaking, we ought to see there two "c's" back to back; but as we find the "d" on all the bindings displaying the arms of diana, there can be no doubt, and queen catherine doubted less than anybody. other emblems of diana are to be found in the arcs and crescents that are plentifully displayed. the library of diana was large, owing to the king not hesitating to take valuable books from the public collections for her. two centuries after her death it was dispersed, and the greater part of the books belonging to the national collections were restored on the deaths of those who then purchased them. hence the largest number of the bindings of henri ii. and diana of poitiers will be found in the national library of paris. [illustration: fig. .--italian binding for catherine de medicis, with the initials "c. c."] queen catherine also had special patterns with a monogram identical with the double "d" mentioned above, but the branches of the "c" were a little longer than the branches of the "h;" she also used a "k" on the sides of her books. the specimen which we reproduce is a purely italian work. from kings and queens the fashion passed to the great lords, it having come to the kings and queens from a private individual. the constable anne de montmorency adorned his bindings with a cross and spread eagle. among the amateurs of binding of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries using distinctive marks, we may mention philip desportes, the poet, who used two [phi] enlaced, as did also superintendent fouquet in the seventeenth century. the brothers dupuy adopted the double [delta], arranged as a star. colbert had a curled snake (_coluber_ for colbert!), the gondis two masses of arms, madame de pompadour three towers, etc. fouquet beside the [phi] used a squirrel on some of his bindings. [illustration: fig. .--binding with the arms of mansfeldt, with _azure_ scroll work, from the didot collection.] in germany, count mansfeldt adopted the ornamental style with arms, of which a specimen is here given; and marc laurin de watervliet also decorated and dedicated his books to his friends, using the motto "virtus in arduo." among the lords of the french courts who favoured polychromatic ornament and bold compositions were the young valois, louis de sainte maure, marquis of nesle, and henri de guise, called "le balafré." charles ix. had his emblems and devices, the double "c" crowned the legend "pietate et justitia," but his brother, henri iii., loved the decoration of books more than he did. the passion of the king for miniatures which he cut out of books is known; this passion for golden things he repeated on bindings, for which he chose special designs. henri iii. was an amateur of dances of death; he visited cemeteries, attended funerals, and took a death's-head for his emblem. this emblem was not his invention; long before him marot had addressed an epigram to a lady in which he brought love and death into close conjunction. however that may be, the king chose skeletons and penitents' tears to ornament his books. he also tolerated diamonds, although he absolutely prohibited them in the clothing of ladies or fixed the number _pro rata_ with the rank of the authorised person. there was in this prince a singular mixture of taste and artistic acuteness by the side of a mania or hallucination which was reflected on the most intimate objects of his apparel or of his furniture. thus if we find, at the end of the sixteenth century, a death's-head on the sides or the back of a volume, the binding is of the period of henri iii. the binders of his time are known by the mention that is made of them in the royal accounts; the eves were the most celebrated among all of them. nicholas eve was charged with the binding of the statutes of the order of st. esprit, with which the king gratified his friends. mention of this work is found in the clairambault manuscripts, where we read, "to nicholas eve, washer and binder of books and bookseller to the king, forty-seven and a half escus for washing, gilding, and squaring the edges of forty-two books of statutes and ordinances of the order, bound and covered with orange levant morocco, enriched on one side with the arms of the king, fully gilt, and on the other of france and poland, with monograms at the four corners, and the rest flames, with orange and blue ribbons," etc. [illustration: fig. .--sixteenth century binding, called _à la fanfare_. in the dutuit collection.] louise de lorraine, wife of henri iii., counted for little in the life of her husband; nevertheless she had a certain number of books decorated with their united escutcheons. the bindings attributed to eve were decorated all over the sides and back with interlacing patterns of geometrical character, the spaces between the parallel lines and in the middle of the figures left at first quite blank, but afterwards filled in with palm branches and wreaths of foliage; to these delicate and elaborate yet brilliant toolings have been given the name of bindings _à la fanfare_. this designation requires explanation, and is a good example of the grotesque style adopted by modern amateurs in their appellations. [illustration: fig. .--le gascon binding.] the fine work of that time prepared for the coming in the seventeenth century--about --of the works of le gascon, or at least for the artist with whom in our days are connected the works of the reign of louis xiii. under henri iv. the fleur-de-lys occupied most of the covers of the royal books, from vellum to levant morocco; works in this class had nothing very remarkable. the first years of louis xiii. revealed a new process, inspired by the eves. le gascon embroidered delightfully on the fanfare ornaments; showing the fibres of the leaves, he made a new kind of ornament, consisting of minute gold dots elaborated into lines and curves of singular brilliancy and elegance. of this style, called _pointillé_, we give a specimen from the collection of m. dutuit. the fashion had arrived all at once; lace, banished from clothing by severe edicts, found a refuge on the covering of books. the times were hard then for binders; they were constrained to live in the university and to employ only its workmen. a binder was never his own gilder; he employed the _gaufreurs_ of shoe-leather, more expert and bolder, to gild his leather. among these artisans was one named pigorreau, whom the edict found living in the midst of publishers and working for them; he was compelled to choose either to remain bootmaker or become bookseller; he chose the latter, against the syndics of the trade, against every one, and he made enemies for himself. he revenged himself by turning the masters into ridicule in a placard. [illustration: fig. .--le gascon binding for cardinal mazarin.] le gascon was probably the assumed name of an artist in this style. the _guirlande de julie_, worked by him for mademoiselle de rambouillet, gave him great honour in the special circle of this little literary court. it was the fashion then for poor authors to put a fine covering on their works and to offer them to the great for their own profit. tallement des reaux notably signalises the poet laserre, who displayed his luxury in irreproachable bindings. and then the farmers of the revenue, successors of grolier in financial trusts, formed libraries for pure fashion, never opening the volumes covered for them in sumptuous attire. if we may believe sauval, author of the _antiquités de paris_, they went further, and on covers without books inscribed imaginary titles and fantastic squibs to mislead their visitors. the bookcase being carefully closed, it was difficult to discover the imposition. sauval writes, "in place of books, they are content with covers of levant morocco, on the backs of which, in gold letters, are inscribed the names of the most celebrated authors. a binder of the university assured me that not long since he and his _confrères_ had made them for a single financier to the amount of , crowns!" the works of le gascon will be found more among great personages than with the so-called collectors, which gives value to their grace and charm. the king's brother gaston possessed them, then mazarin, an example from whose library is here reproduced. on this binding le gascon worked gilt compartments and elaborate arabesques; in the middle of the sides are the arms of the cardinal and his pretentious device: "arma julii ornant franciam!"--"the arms of jules the ornament of france!" in spite of the profusion of subjects, nothing could better please the eye or indicate a man of taste. but if le gascon be a legendary personage, he had an imitator or rival, very near to him, named florimond badier, whose works had at least the advantage of being signed. at the bottom of the inside cover of an inlaid morocco binding in the national library at paris is the inscription "florimond badier fec., inv." the analogy between this work and those known as le gascon's is palpable; inside and outside, the cover is stippled with small tools (_au petit fer_) in the same manner. florimond badier was not appointed bookseller until , and so could not have composed earlier bindings attributed to le gascon, but this resemblance of style evidences the existence of a parisian school, the adepts of which copied one another, as they do nowadays. the work was soon simplified; pallets and wheel-shaped tools were invented to produce that which was improperly called _dentelle_; this mechanical work was done by a wheel-shaped tool, previously heated, on gold in sized leaves, on which it impressed its projections. with louis xiv. the passion for gilding increased. charming festoons were designed, but they were soon abused, and inundated the libraries. on the sides were seen rising suns, arms, and golden garlands. cramoisy directed the royal bindings, the king having devoted large sums to the purchase of levant leathers. in the director of works ordered red moroccos; in he received twenty-two dozen skins, amounting, with the expenses of transport, to , livres tournois. successive supplies were made, and were used for the royal library, sixty-nine dozen in , forty-six dozen in , and three hundred and thirty-three dozen in , costing the king more than , livres. on these admirably dressed skins, which, in spite of incessant use, still remain now as in their first days, the king caused to be applied, according to the size, tools of borders, having in the middle the arms of france, with the collar of st. esprit. among the binders mentioned in the very useful work of m. j. j. guiffrey on the expenditure of louis xiv., we find gilles dubois, who died before ; levasseur, binder of huet, bishop of avranches; la tour, mérins or mérius, who died before ; and also ruette, the reputed inventor of marbled paper for fly-leaves of books: to him the bindings of the chancellor de séguier, with their ornament of the golden fleece, and of madame de séguier, are attributed. it was probably these men who decorated the books of the brothers dupuy, fouquet, and colbert, marvellous works of solidity, if not always of elegance, which have resisted all assaults. unhappily, in many instances the mechanical _dentelle_ overburdened the work, and gave it a commonplace regularity. in the condé, colbert, and perhaps even madame de longueville's collections, there are many specimens of this kind with two or three filleted borders. we have come to an epoch when the difficulties resulting from confusion between the booksellers' and binders' trades began to be understood. the revocation of the edict of nantes had implicitly prepared a crowd of measures and rules in all branches of national industry. it was a good occasion to prevent the artisans of binding unduly parading themselves as booksellers and selling merchandise of which they understood nothing; louis xiv. interfered, and separated the two communities. the binders then became the _relieurs-doreurs_ of books; they had their own organisation, but remained subject to the university; the heads of the fraternity were called the "guards." the principal arrangements of the regulation of were: the members of the corporation had the sole right to bind books, from the elegant volume to registers of blank paper. five years of apprenticeship and three of companionship were necessary to obtain the brevet of freedom and to hold a shop. moreover, it was indispensable to read and write. one regulation ordained that the workman should be "able to bind and ornament ordinary books or others, to render them perfect and entire, to sew the sheets at most two together with thread and real bands, with joints of parchment, and not paper, and in case of infraction the said books were to be remade at the expense of the offender, who was besides condemned to a penalty of thirty livres for each volume." their establishment was confined to the quarter from the rue st. andré des arts to the place maubert; they regulated the sale of calfskin and of tools; in a word, they were surrounded by precautions by which the production remained always under the supervision of the masters and completely satisfied the client. this calculating policy was, in fact, a close imitation of the royal ordinance of . [illustration: fig. .--mosaic binding of the eighteenth century for the _spaccio de la bestia trionfante_.] the mosaic bindings used from the end of the reign of louis xiv. were an application of pared leathers of colours different from the background, pasted on to the side. the binders of the regency composed a great number, attributed now to pasdeloup, as all the crayons of the sixteenth century are called clouets, and all the panels on wood holbeins. it is not that there was great originality in these works, or a particular art; more often the workman did no more than transcribe le gascon or eve or the older binders, and accommodated the processes of these artists to the fashion of his time. in this style we may cite the _spaccio de la bestia trionfante_, printed at paris , for which the binder designed a cover of doubtful taste and, above all, an undeniable want of proportion. the tendency was then to flowers occupying three-fourths of the page, to compartments too large, to open pomegranates, like the _spaccio_ here reproduced. if pasdeloup had discovered these mediocre combinations, he could not be proclaimed the regenerator of a fallen art. the bastard style of these works may be compared to their mosaics, constructed of pieces; it is a little of everything, and together it is nothing. however, in the midst of the quantity of mediocre things, some pleasing decoration is from time to time met with; the design of a volume with the arms of the regent and his wife, mademoiselle de blois, wants neither elegance nor taste; without being perfection, it has better proportion and balance. [illustration: fig. .--mosaic binding of the eighteenth century, with the arms of the regent. m. morgand's collection.] we should, however, hesitate to give names to all these works. besides pasdeloup, there were the deromes, abandoning a little the mosaics, devising flowers and _dentelles_ in combination, and no longer the simple products of the fillet. they formed a dynasty; and if the pasdeloups were at least twelve, there were fourteen deromes all booksellers and binders from the reign of louis xiv. the most celebrated was james anthony, who died in . peter paul dubuisson was not only a binder; he was a designer. he invented heraldic ornaments, and composed models of gilding tools, in which his contemporaries emulated him. he was intimate with the delicate vignettist eisen, and the counsels of an artist of this value could not but be useful to him. it is an extraordinary thing that in this world of celebrated printers, amateur financiers, and notable painters and engravers, not a single man can be met to give a real impulse to the art of which we speak, and to prevent the dull continuance of experiments on the whole so poor. doubtless the _dentelles_ of derome had a certain air of gaiety, to which the books of the eighteenth century accommodated themselves perfectly; the tools of dubuisson produce most pleasing designs; but the old, the great binders, had altogether disappeared. besides, derome massacred without pity the rarest works. he loved edges very regularly cut, and he did not fail to hew down margins opposed to his taste. he sawed books as well; that is to say, in place of sewing the sheets on to projecting bands, he made a groove in the back, in which the cord was embedded. the books have no resistance. to these celebrated names of french binders of the eighteenth century we may add le monnier, who worked for the orleans princes; tessier, his successor; laferté, who decorated the small volumes of the duc de la vallière as chamot covered the large ones; in chamot was royal binder. there was also pierre engerrand, then biziaux, an original, who worked for madame de pompadour and beaumarchais. boyet, or boyer, worked ( - ) in the style of le gascon, with the same minute tooling, but simpler in character. duseuil put very elaborate and delicate tooling on his covers from about to . the revolution effaced many of the fine works which displayed the symbols "of a royalty justly detested," and mercier wrote certain wicked little poems against binding. lesné was the poet of bookbinding, and he invented the process of plain calf without boards. certainly from grolier to lesné there were numerous changes, so numerous that, in spite of the nude calf, it may be said that the art was nearly dead. in our days it has a little recovered. amateurs have found new names, and often artists, to patronise: trautz-bauzonnet, capé, duru, lortic, marius michel, in france; bedford, rivière, zaehnsdorf, pratt, in england; matthews, bradstreet, smith, in the united states; and many others. unhappily, fortune does not permit every one to furnish his library luxuriously; the true connoisseur searches rather for groliers, eves, and le gascons, than concerns himself about modern workmanship. whatever may be its value, it is only fit to clothe the works of the time. a book published by lemerre and bound by petit is in true character, but a fifteenth or sixteenth century book passed under the hands of trautz-bauzonnet himself will be very much like an ancient enamel in a modern frame newly gilt. bookbinding in england has, with very few exceptions, never attained the artistic excellence reached in france. from the earliest times to the present day servile imitations of foreign work only are seen. the one purely original english binder is roger payne, who from about worked for thirty or forty years in london, performing with his own hands every stage of the work, even to cutting his own tools. the result was good, solid work, with perfectly original and often very beautiful decoration, appropriate to the character of the work itself. his favourite style was drooping lines of leaf ornaments in the borders and geometrical patterns in small tools. after him came charles lewis, who was an artist in the true sense of the word, and, coming down to our own time, francis bedford, who, never pretending to originality, copied the best designs of the old french and italian binders. his full calf books, with handsomely tooled backs, are models of solidity and taste; and his decorations on the sides of morocco-bound books are always in good taste, and often of great elegance. the binders of the present day, perhaps for lack of patronage, seem to have abandoned originality; and although much excellent work is done, it is no more than a copy of the eves, le gascon, derome, and the older artists. parallel with the luxurious bindings with which we have been exclusively occupied, there has always been the commercial work, prepared in advance. liturgical works, above all, are sold in this form. books in the grolier style or other grand personages were worked from a pattern engraved in relief, leaving nothing to the caprice of the artist, by being applied to the side by a press. this process is termed blocking. germany made use of this process principally; also vostre, verard, and tory employed the same means. even the interlacings and the capricious arabesques of grolier were imitated by means of a fixed plate, parts of which were finished by hand to make it appear a complete work of imagination and handicraft. [illustration] chapter ix. libraries. art, science, and literature took refuge in convents before the invention of printing, and libraries did not count many books. according to daily wants, the monastery scribes copied the treatises lent by neighbouring houses, and the collection was thus painfully made during many centuries. two or three hundred works constituted ordinary collections; the powerful abbeys found in their staff the means of enriching their libraries, as we have said, but they were the privileged ones. excepting kings and some princes, few people possessed a library. the great expense of transcription, the want of facility for procuring originals, and the enormous price of manuscripts left no hope to bibliophiles of moderate fortune. typography, on the contrary, having multiplied books and put at relatively modest prices reproductions formerly inaccessible, private collections commenced. we have had occasion to speak before of grolier and maioli; they were the most illustrious, but not the only ones. at first a public library was an unknown thing. the richest and the most easily got together, that of the king of france, was private. since john the good in france the acquisitions were numerous, and gutenberg's invention contributed to augment the stock of volumes everywhere. charles viii. and louis xii. found or took in their expeditions in italy, and were able to add to the original nucleus, many rare editions, especially from the sforzas at pavia, who had marvels without number. brought together at blois, under the care of john de labarre, the royal library did not yet occupy a very large space, in spite of its increase. under charles v. the number of books was about a thousand; about or they were nearly doubled, and the printed books did not number more than two hundred. so restricted, the royal library travelled with the other treasures of the crown; francis i. transported it from blois to fontainebleau, and even parts of it to the italian wars, as related above. in its new quarters the royal collection, in spite of the successive accessions of the books of john d'angoulême, grandfather of the king, and of those of the dukes of orleans, counted but , manuscripts and a hundred and nine printed books on the shelves. the king, ambitious in literature no less than in arts, nominated an illustrious _savant_, guillaume budé, to the office of master of his library; and this qualification was maintained by his successors until the fall of the royal power. with budé commenced the system of continuous acquisitions. the treasury was liberally opened to vendors of rarities. at this time the books, placed upon their sides, one upon another, gave no idea of a modern library, with its volumes ranged on end, having their titles between the bands of the back. in speaking of grolier, we remarked that the sides of a binding alone had importance on account of their place on the shelves; it was the same with francis i. under henri ii. the fontainebleau collection was somewhat pillaged for diana of poitiers, but, as a corrective for this dilapidation, the king adopted a measure, since preserved, which substituted for acquisitions a regular and uninterrupted supply; this was the contribution by publishers to the library of one bound copy on vellum of all the works printed under privilege. the ordinance was made in ; the successors of henri ii. had only this means of increasing the number of their volumes, with the exception that charles ix. expended a large sum in the purchase of grolier's collection of medals. such was the working of the royal library for about a half-century, but the idea of making it public had not come. diffused as was then the passion for books, it had not yet been democratised to the point of being understood by the people. amateurs and lovers of reading formed special collections in their houses, at times rivalling that of the king. then the fashion was no more to lay the books on their sides, but they were now ranged to allow room for new acquisitions. henri iv., who had not his great-uncle's predilection for fontainebleau, commanded the removal to paris of the books buried in the castle. he added to them those of catherine de medicis coming from marshal strozzi; and as the college of clermont had become vacant by the dispersion of the jesuits, he lodged the library in in one of the rooms of that establishment, under the care of james augustus de thou, master of the library. we now see the royal collection brought to paris, which it has never quitted; but before its definitive installation, before it was made public, it passed through a century, during which additions were made, purchases increased, and the number of manuscripts and printed books augmented in enormous proportions. henri iv. desired to place it near the court, to avoid pillage and to have the chief librarian near to him. the return of the jesuits in upset the first establishment a little; the college of clermont was evacuated; the books were transported to the cordeliers and distributed in rooms on the ground and first floors, whence the names of upper and lower libraries. there was a mass of volumes very little used, for the public did not enjoy them, and the king held them as his own; but the time was near when the collection was to take a very serious step under the influence of the brothers dupuy in , and afterwards of jerome bignon. always shut up in the incommodious chambers of the cordeliers, the library contained , volumes, manuscript and printed, perhaps less than some private libraries; after the dupuys it had at least , printed books. mazarin was the first to comprehend the natural use of collections of books: publicity. his private library, placed before in his magnificent house in the rue richelieu, where later was definitively lodged the royal library, was opened to readers every tuesday, from eight to eleven and two to five. dispersed in , at the fall of the cardinal, it was later reconstituted, and in less than ten years afterwards the former minister was able to open it in its new quarters, the college of the four nations, where it is still. while the mazarin library was administering liberally to the wants of the public, that of the king remained closely shut up in the rooms of the cordeliers. colbert, influenced by this state of things, offered two houses in the rue vivienne to the king, where the books could find a more convenient lodging, and allow room for increase. the removal was made in . the royal collection for fifty-five years was lodged only a few steps from its final resting-place, the hotel de nevers. so was called at the end of the seventeenth century the splendid mansion of mazarin, situated near the porte de richelieu, in the street of the same name, whence his books had been previously torn and sold to all the dealers. divided into two parts at the death of the cardinal in , the palace fell, one part to the duc de mazarin, the other to the duc de nevers, his nephews. at first the king dreamed, under the advice of louvais, of acquiring the land in the neighbourhood of the rue vivienne and of elevating a monument for his library, for the thought of putting the hotel de nevers to this use had not then occurred to him; but the duc de mazarin having alienated his part of the palace in favour of the company of the indies, abbé bignon, then royal librarian, perceived the part he could play from that fact. thanks to the administration of colbert and the liberalities of the king, the collection had been augmented threefold. at the time of the removal to the rue vivienne, nicolas clément worked at the classifying and cataloguing of , volumes. he distributed them into methodical classes, and devoted nine years-- to --to his work. but this first unravelling was soon insufficient. less than four years after, he commenced a new inventory in twenty-one volumes, which occupied thirty years, having been finished in the course of march, . this time the numbers amounted to , printed volumes; his twenty-three principal divisions, containing all the letters of the alphabet, are very nearly preserved up to our day. in the question of publishing this enormous work was agitated, and on this point clément had a curious correspondence with a learned dane named frederick bostgaard; he also, in a celebrated pamphlet, _idée d'une nouvelle manière de dresser le catalogue d'une bibliothèque_, indicated practical observations; he resolved this arduous question for important collections by difference of sizes; but his project was not executed, although favoured from the first by abbé bignon. as the collection was not available for workers, the work of clément had only a relative importance. a councillor of the prince of waldeck, a german of the name of nemeitz, who travelled in france in the beginning of the eighteenth century, having seen it in the houses of the rue vivienne, says that the library occupied then twenty-six rooms and contained , volumes in all; it was shown voluntarily to strangers, but not to the public. nemeitz gives some other curious particulars as to the libraries of paris (_séjour à paris:_ leyde, , vo). the bank of law, that had been lodged for some time in the hotel de nevers, alienated by the heirs of mazarin, soon disappeared with the ruin of his system. as we have said above, bignon appreciated the importance of the neglected palace for commodiously lodging the royal collections. this was in . the collection was about to be subdivided into four sections, or, as they were then called in the administrative style, four distinct departments: manuscripts, printed books, titles, and engraved plates. the master of the library pressed the regent to profit by the occasion, to which he agreed. in the month of september the removal commenced, and from the rue vivienne, the royal library, the first in the world and the most valuable, as naudé says, entered the former palace of the cardinal, which it was never to quit again. we approach the epoch when this great scientific establishment was to quit its private character and to open its doors to the learned of all countries. in it was decided to print the catalogue of some divisions only: theology, canonical law, public law, and _belles lettres_. this resolution coincided precisely with the opening of the doors which took place in , in which year appeared the first volume of the catalogue comprising the sacred scriptures. at the end of the eighteenth century the royal library was finally established; the printed books then comprised about , volumes, and access was had by a staircase leading to six grand saloons, which were surrounded by galleries. from this moment the rooms became too small. at the revolution the number of books had increased to , , and projects of enlargement commenced, to be continued to our time; but, in spite of these proposals, the surface occupied by the library has remained the same since the time of louis xv. enlargements and alterations have been made year after year on the same ground without much new construction. but how the treasures have been augmented to this time! if the printed books at the revolution represented a little more than , volumes, to-day they exceed two millions; the prints number two and a half millions; the medals, , ; the manuscripts, something over , . if we have thus brought the summary history of the national library of paris to our days, it was to avoid mixing it with other matters. we have entered into such detail regarding it as is fitting for the most important library in the world. we now return to the seventeenth century. at the time when henri iv. carried from fontainebleau to paris the nucleus of volumes that was to have so brilliant a destiny, the passion for books had singularly spread itself in france. we have already spoken of mazarin; after him cardinal richelieu designed to open his private collection to the public, and in his will he manifested his clearly held intention. he went further in his last wishes: he prescribed the daily sweeping and dusting of the precious collection, and its augmentation by a thousand livres tournois each year. the great personages of the time were not behind; and sauval says that in the seventeenth century there were , or , private libraries in paris, numbering , , volumes. in the provinces there were few public libraries. the communities and learned societies, the jesuits and other religious houses, and the universities had collections at orleans a library was opened for germans, and the students of that country were able to work at their ease under the supervision of two librarians. at the end of the eighteenth century the number of libraries had increased in large proportions; the amateurs had made their influence felt. the book was not sought only for what it contained, but also for its exterior clothing. only the great libraries open to everybody remained eclectic, and provided a little of everything. besides the royal library, there were in paris a great number of other collections, which the revolutionary storm upset and often destroyed. that of st. germain des près was burnt in . that of st. geneviève, founded in , had benefited by celebrated donations, among others those of the cardinals de berulle and de la rochefoucauld; the arsenal, created by the marquis de paulmy, was successively enriched by important acquisitions, among which was the collection of the duc de la vallière. these collections still exist, and are open to the public, as also are the national library, the mazarine, the sorbonne, the museum, the school of fine arts, the city of paris, the institute, the louvre, and the several scientific faculties. the provinces have not been behind in the movement. many of the great cities contain a considerable number of books easily accessible, among them the libraries of bordeaux and rouen, amounting to , volumes; troyes and besançon, , , etc. few important centres have less than , . these collections have been generally composed of those of the religious establishments, closed by the revolution. in our time public libraries are augmented by the legal deposit, gifts of the state, legacies of private persons, and purchases. the legal deposit in france relates almost exclusively to the national library, and proceeds from the measures taken by henri ii. in . each french printer has now to deposit a certain number of copies of the works that he issues, and these volumes go to swell the number of books in the rue de richelieu. at the rate of , a year, the time is easily anticipated and very near when the space will be found insufficient. some measures will have to be taken. germany, the cradle of printing, was not favoured in the beginning. it had, however, in the seventeenth century, in wolfenbüttel, a little town in the duchy of brunswick, a curious collection of books, in a detached building, of which the engraver merian has preserved for us the physiognomy; it contained nearly , volumes, an enormous number for the time. the rather low rooms were shelved all round; in the middle were cases of the height of a man, also filled with books; the readers helped themselves, and were seated for working. the exterior of the building, without being sumptuous, was isolated and detached. in our time this collection includes the bible, glass, and inkstand of luther and his portrait by lucas cranach. another curious library, dating from the beginning of the seventeenth century, is that of the city of leyden. an engraving by woudan shows its state in , with its classifications and divisions. the books were ranged in cases provided with breast-high desks. the books were placed with the edges in front, and not as now, and were so attached that they could only be consulted in their place. each body of shelving contained a series of authors: theology, philosophy, mathematics, history, medicine, law, and literature. the room, of square shape, was lighted by windows right and left. between the bays were portraits, views of cities, and maps. on the right, in a shrine, was enclosed the legacy of joseph scaliger. communication was less liberal than at wolfenbüttel; the readers were obliged to take the books from the shelves themselves and read them standing before the desks. in england, the celebrated oxford library should be mentioned, augmented and restored in by sir thomas bodley, ambassador of queen elizabeth. the generous overtures of this rich gentleman met with unanimous approbation. he offered to the library of the university the volumes collected by him during his travels on the continent, whose value exceeded £ , . the first stone of a new building was laid in , but from the collection was open to readers in a provisional locality. david loggan, the engraver, has preserved for us interior views of the bodleian of the seventeenth century. the rooms are disposed in the form of the letter h, with pavilions to east and west, united by a gallery. the books were and are still in the body of the library, placed against the walls, with tables and immovable seats. the volumes were not displaced; they were consulted in their own place. each room had two floors, with access to the second by stairs. in london it was hans sloane who had the idea of founding a great collection by offering to the state for £ , his collection of books, which was valued at £ , . created in by an act of parliament, the british museum, as it was named, was quickly augmented by many private libraries, among which was the library of printed books and manuscripts collected by the kings of england from henry vii. to william iii., which was added in the reign of george ii. the very extensive and valuable library of george iii., , volumes, was added by george iv. the harleian collection added , volumes, and robert cotton his manuscripts. to-day the printed books amount to , , , and are only surpassed by the national library of france as well in number of books as in number of readers. this immense collection increases at a great rate, one source being the compulsory deposit of a copy of every new book in order to secure copyright. donations and legacies are constantly being made, and an annual sum for purchases is voted by parliament. besides the copy deposited by publishers in the british museum, the law of copyright compels the deposit of four other copies, which go to augment the collections of the bodleian library of oxford, the university library of cambridge, and the libraries of edinburgh and dublin. if we search among the cities of europe where establishments of this kind are most honoured, berlin will take the third place with , printed books and , manuscripts, preserved in the imperial library. the building, constructed between and , owes its special form to frederick ii., who desired that it should take the form of a chest of drawers. on the façade an inscription in the latin tongue, but conceived in german spirit, indicates that here is a spiritual refectory--_nutrimentum spiritus_. following come munich, with , printed books; vienna , ; dresden, , ; then the universities: leipzig, whose library, founded in and reorganised in , contains , books and , manuscripts; heidelberg; göttingen, etc. in italy, florence keeps, in the national library, , volumes, proceeding from various amateurs, and formed since . the collection of the goldsmith magliabecchi, that was open to readers since , has been transported there. besides this library, florence possesses the celebrated laurentian, created by cosmo de medicis in the middle of the fifteenth century, where are united more than , manuscripts of an incalculable value. milan has at the brera a collection of , printed books and , medals, and at the ambrosian, due to cardinal frederick borromeo, , printed books and , manuscripts. rome possesses a dozen collections and celebrated deposits. the vatican, not numerous, is most choice; the importance of its manuscripts is known to the entire world, but only a part of the , printed books are catalogued. the library of victor emmanuel, formerly of the jesuits, amounts to about , volumes. at venice the splendid monument called the antiqua libraria di st. marco has changed its destination; constructed in the sixteenth century and commenced by sansovino for a library, it is now a royal palace. this city has lost that which had made its glory, and its collections are very modest in our days. the magnificent educational establishments in the form of public libraries provided in the united states deserve special mention. nearly every city has its public library, supported by a small tax; and many large libraries are wholly supported by private munificence. the first to be established was founded in by benjamin franklin in philadelphia, and still exists as the library company; many important bequests have been made to it, the latest being £ , by dr. richard rush. the library now numbers , volumes. the congressional library of washington, besides its annual income from government, receives by deposit for copyright a copy of every work published in the united states; it now has , volumes. the astor library and the lenox library of new york were both founded and endowed by the families whose name they bear; the former has , volumes, the latter , . the city of chicago recently fell heir to the magnificent sum of over one million sterling for the establishment of a library of reference, and new york was benefited by the late mr. tilden to the extent of £ , for a public library. when we have named the libraries of st. petersburg and moscow for russia, stockholm for sweden, and the escurial for spain, we shall have mentioned very hastily the most important establishments in the world. for more than four centuries the love of books has preserved and fortified itself, and increases each day. if we were to endeavour to approximately imagine the number of printed books diffused, we should be frightened at it. it is by miles that to-day are counted the shelves of the national library or of the british museum; and each year the production is accelerated, as is also the number of readers. the end. index. albi, first printer at, . alciati, books of emblems, . alding, henry, printer in sicily, . aldus manutius, son-in-law of torresani, ; printer in venice, , , ; books for grolier, . america, north, printing in, . antwerp, early printing at, ; plantin, . _ars memorandi_, block book, . _ars moriendi_, block book, . asola, andrew d', successor of jenson, . audran, c., engraver, . augsburg, _formschneiders_ at, . badier, florimond, bookbinder, . badius, jodocus, printer in paris, , . baldini, designs for early italian books, . ballard, printer for music, . bamberg, early printing at, , . barcelona, first printer, . bartolozzi, engraver, . baskerville, printer of birmingham, . basle, first printer, ; school of engraving, . beaujoyeux, balthasar de, _ballet comique_, . bechtermuncze, henry, pupil of gutenberg, , . bedford, francis, bookbinder, . belfort, andrew, printer at ferrara, . berlin, imperial library of, . bernard, _le petit_, designer, . bewick, thomas, engraver, , , , . bible, gutenberg's, , ; of , the mayence, ; first english, ; authorised version, ; the polyglot, plantin's, ; richelieu's, . _biblia pauperum_, block book, . bignon, jerome, royal librarian, . binding, early, . biziaux, bookbinder, . blind asylum, printers in , . bocard, andrew, printer in paris, . bodleian library, . bohn, h. g., publisher, . bologna, francisco da, engraver of type, . bonhomme, printer in lyons, . book, the, earliest forms of, , . books of hours, , ; for english use, . booksellers of paris, , , , . bosse, abraham, engraver, . botticelli, plates to dante, . boucher, designer, . bourdichon, john, artist, . boydell, alderman, publisher, . boyet, bookbinder, . brandt's "ship of fools," . british museum, library, . brothers of common life, printers, , . browne, h. k., book illustrator, . bruges, early printing at, , . buckinck, arnold, printer at rome, printed the first atlas, . budé, guillaume, royal librarian, . cæsaris, peter, and john stol, second paris printers, . callot, engraver, . cambridge, first printing at, . cars, laurent, engraver, . cases for type, . caslon, william, type-founder, . catherine de medicis, bindings for, . "catholicon," the, of , printed by gutenberg, . caxton, william, first english printer, , , . cazin, publisher, . cerceau, _bastiments de france_, , . chaillot, robin, publisher in paris, . challeux, james le, wood engraver, . chamot, bookbinder, . _champfleury_, geoffroy tory's, , . characters, variety of, . charles vii. sends jenson to mayence, . charles viii., royal library, . charles ix., bindings for, . charles of angoulême, books specially printed for him, . chauveau, francis, engraver, . chess, caxton's book on, . chodowiecki, engraver, . choffard, engraver, , . clement v., _constitutiones_, , printed by schoeffer, . clément, nicholas, royal librarian, . clennell, luke, wood engraver, , , . cochin the younger, engraver, . colbert, bindings for, , . collines, simon de, type-founder, . cologne, first printer, . "cologne chronicle," . colonna, francis, poliphilus of, , ; in french, , . colophons, use of, by early printers, . commin, vincent, bookseller in paris, . companies of printers in france, . copper plate engraving, ; in england, . coster, laurent, alleged inventor of printing, , . cousin, john, designs for books, . cramoisy, sebastian, printer of paris, , ; director of bindings for louis xiv., . cranach, lucas, his _passional christi_, . cranmer's catechism, , . cruikshank, george, book illustrator, . curmer, publisher of paris, . dances of death, , , , . dante, , with engraved plates, ; , with botticelli plates, ; , printed by bonnini, . day, john, printer, . della bella, engraver, . deromes, bookbinders, . desportes, philip, bindings for, . devéria, engraver, . dibdin, t. f., bibliographical works, . didot, françois, printer of paris, . didot, pierre f., printer of paris, , . didot family, , . dijon, first printer at, . diodorus siculus, geoffroy tory's edition, . donatus, the latin syntax of, , . doré, gustave, influence on illustration, . doyle, richard, book illustrator, . dritzehen, andrew, associate of gutenberg, . dubois, gilles, bookbinder, . dubuisson, peter paul, bookbinder, . duchesne on wood engraving, . duplat, relief engraving on stone, . duplessis-bertaux, engraver, . du pré, john, printer of books of hours, . dupuy brothers, bindings for, , ; royal librarians, . durand's _rationale_, , printed by schoeffer, . dürer, albert, pupil of wohlgemuth, ; "apocalypse," , ; influence on geoffroy tory, . duseuil, bookbinder, . eisen, engraver, . eltvil, first printer, . elzevirs, printers at leyden, . emblems, books of, , . england, bookbinding in, ; public libraries, . english books, in the fifteenth century, ; in the sixteenth century, ; seventeenth century, ; eighteenth century, ; nineteenth century, , ; school of engraving eighteenth century, . engraved plates, first book with, ; in france, , . engravers, employed by plantin, ; in relief, the first, . engraving, introduction of metal plates for, ; the process, ; in the books of hours, . erasmus, visit to aldus, . estienne, robert, printer in paris, , . etching, process of, . eustache, william, printer of books of hours, . eve, nicholas, bookbinder, . ferrara, first printer, . fichet, william, ascribes invention of printing to gutenberg, . flemish, illustration, ; printers, early, , . florence, national library of, . foligno, first printer, . fontainebleau school of engraving, . fornazeris, j. de, engraver, . foucquet, john, artist, . fount of type, . fouquet, superintendent, bindings for, , . fournier, type-engraver, . france, early printing in, . francis i., father of letters, ; bindings for, ; royal library, . frankfort, books of the seventeenth century, . franklin, benjamin, printer at philadelphia, ; founded first american public library, . french book illustration, , , , , ; provinces, public libraries of, . fresne, trichet du, corrector of royal printing house, . furne, publisher of paris, . fust, john, _et seq_.; in partnership with gutenberg, . garamond, claude, type-founder, , , . gaultier, leonard, engraver, , . gavarni, designer, . ged, william, inventor of stereotype, . gering, freyburger, and crantz, first printers in paris, . german books, in the seventeenth century, ; eighteenth century, ; nineteenth century, . german public libraries, . gigoux, john, vignettist, . gillot, claude, engraver, , . giunta, lucantonio, printer at venice, . gondi, bindings for, . gourmont, john de, wood engraver, . grandjean, philip, royal printer, . grandville, designer, . gravelot, hubert francis, engraver, , . grolier, john, bindings for, . guadagnino, artist of venice, . guise, henri de, "le balafré," bindings for, . gutenberg, john, _et seq_.; at mayence, ; death of, . haarlem, book illustration at, . hachette, publisher of paris, . hagenbach, peter, printer at toledo, . hahn, ulrich, printer at rome, ; printed first illustrated book in italy, . hardouins, printers of books of hours, . haye, cornelis de la, painter, . heilmann, andrew, associate of gutenberg, . heinlein and fichet introduce printing into paris, . henri ii., _entrée à lyon_, , ; bindings for, ; royal library, . henri iii., bindings for, . henri iv., royal library, . hoe printing machines, . holbein, "dance of death," , ; cranmer's catechism, . holland, artists in the seventeenth century, . illustrations, first, in books, ; in the sixteenth century, . imposition, process of, . ink, composition of, . ipswich, first printer, . isaac, jasper, engraver, . italian, books in the seventeenth century, ; influence on french illustration, ; on bindings, . italic type introduced, . italy, public libraries of, . jenson, nicholas, sent to mayence to learn type-founding, ; printer at venice, , . johannot brothers, engravers, . john of cologne, master _à la navette_, . jombert, printer of paris, . junius, hadrian, narrator of the coster legend, , . kerver, thielman, printer of books of hours, , . knight, charles, publisher, . koburger, first printer at nuremberg, , . koelhof, first printer to use signatures, . labarre, john de, royal librarian, . laborde, _chansons_, . laferté, bookbinder, . la fontaine, the _contes_, . la marche, oliver de, his _chevalier delibéré_, . laserre, luxury in bindings for, . la tour, bookbinder, . lavoignat, wood engraver, . lebé, william, type-founder, , . le brun, painter, . leclerc, sébastien, engraver, . leech, john, book illustrator, . leeu, gerard de, printer at antwerp, . le gascon bindings, . le jay and the polyglot bible, . le maire, john, _illustrations de la gaule_, . le monnier, bookbinder, . lenoir, philip, bindings for francis i., . lepautre, engraver, . lesné, poet of bookbinding, . letters of indulgence, the first printed, . lettou, john, early english printer, . leu, thomas de, engraver, , . levasseur, bookbinder, . lewis, charles, bookbinder, . leyden, the elzevirs at, ; public library of, . libraries, . library, national, of paris, . lipsius, justus, employed by plantin, . logography, invention of, . lorenzo, nicholas di, printer of _el monte santo di dio_, first book with engraved plates, . loslein, peter, printer at venice, . louis xii., ordinance on printing, ; bindings for, , ; royal library, . louis xiv., bindings for, ; regulations for bookbinders, . louvain, printer in , . lutzelburger, hans, engraver of "dance of death," . lyons, first printing at, ; in the sixteenth century, ; seventeenth century, . machlinia, william, early english printer, , . macon, first printer at, . _magasin pittoresque_, . mainyal, george, associate of gering, . maioli, thomas, bindings for, . mansfeldt, count, bindings for, . mansion, colard, printer at bruges, , . manuscripts, influence of printing upon, . manutius. see aldus. marchant, guyot, his "dance of death," ; bindings for francis i., . marinoni printing press, . marnef, geoffroy and gilbert, french printers, . mayence, revolution at, in , ; printing in the seventeenth century, . mayer, henry, printer at toulouse, . mazarin, cardinal, bindings for, ; his library, . meissonier, designer on wood, . mellan, claude, engraver, . menzel, adolph, book illustrator, . _mer des histoires_, , , . mérius, bookbinder, . meslier, denis, publisher in paris, . metal plates used for illustration, . metlinger, printer at dijon, . milan, printing in the sixteenth century, ; public libraries of, . montenay, georgette de, his emblems, . monteregio, _calendario_, first book with title-page, . montmorency, anne de, bindings for, . moreau the younger, engraver, . moretus, printer of antwerp, . mosaic bindings, . motte, houdart de la, his "fables," . necker, jost, engraver of the _theuerdanck_, . neumeister, john, printer at albi, . neumeister, john, printer at foligno, . nevers, duc de, book published in , . notary, julian, early english printer, . noyers, sublet de, superintendent of royal printing house, . nuremberg, first printer, ; books of the sixteenth century, ; chronicle, , ; books of the seventeenth century, . orleans, public library at, . os, peter van, his _biblia pauperum_, . oswen, john, first printer at ipswich, . oxford, first printer, ; bodleian library, . palermo, first printer, . palmart, lambert, printer at valencia, , . pannartz, arnold, printer at rome, . paper, manufacture of, . papillons, wood engravers, . paris, fust's visit to, ; first book printed at, ; public libraries of, . pasdeloup, bookbinder, . pasquier-bonhomme, printer in paris, . pass family, engravers, . pasti, matteo, designs for valturius, . paulin, publisher of paris, . payne, roger, bookbinder, . perréal, john, artist, . pfinzfing, _theuerdanck_, . pfister, albert, printer of bamberg, . philippe, laurent, publisher in paris, . photography, use in illustration, . picart, bernard, engraver, . picart, john, engraver, . piccini, engraver, . pickering, william, publisher, . pictor, bernard, printer of venice, . pigouchet, philip, printer of paris, , . plantin, christopher, printer of antwerp, . pluvinel, _manège royal_, . poitiers, diane de, bindings for, . poliphilus, printed by aldus, , ; by kerver, , . polytypes, invention of, . pompadour, madame de, bindings for, . portraits as illustrations, , , . prault, publisher of paris, . prayer-book, queen elizabeth's, ; edward vi's., . presses, printing, . press work, process of, . printers' marks, . prohibitions on printers, , . _promptuaire des médailles_, printed by roville, . psalter of , the first dated book, . ptolemy, , first printed atlas, . pynson, richard, early english printer, , , . racine, works, the louvre edition, . raffet, wood engraver, . ratdolt, erhardt, printer at venice, ; printed first title-page, , . rembold, berthold, associate of gering, . richelieu, cardinal, his library, . roffet, peter, bindings for francis i., . rogers, samuel, his poetical works, . roman character, , . rome, first printers, ; public libraries of, . rood, theod., first printer at oxford, . roville, printer of lyons, , . royal printing house in paris, , . royer, john le, printer for mathematics, , . ruette, bookbinder, . rüppel, berthold, first printer at basle, . st. albans, first printer, . st. aubin, designer and engraver, , . st. pierre, bernardin de, and the didots, . salomon, bernard, designer, . sanlecque, james, type-founder, . schäufelein, designs for the _theuerdanck_, . schiedam, early printing at, . schoeffer, peter, associate of gutenberg and fust, . schongauer, martin, influence on french art, . schönsperger, printer of augsburg, . séguier, bindings for, . siberch, john, first printer at cambridge, . sicily, first printer, . sizes of books, , . sloane, sir hans, founder of the british museum, . smirke, robert, book illustrator, . southwark, first printer at, . spain, book illustration in, . _speculum humanæ salvationis_, . spindeler, nicholas, printer at barcelona, . spire, john and vendelin of, printers at venice, . spyes, weigand, pupil of gutenberg, . stanhope press, . steel plates for illustrations, . stereotype, invention of, . stothard, thomas, book illustrator, , , . strasbourg, gutenberg's retreat to, . sweynheim, conrad, printer at rome, . _tailleurs d'images_ of the middle ages, . tauchnitz, baron, publisher of leipzig, . tessier, bookbinder, . ther-hoenen, arnold, first printer using arabic numerals for pages, , , . _theuerdanck_, printed at nuremberg, . thevet, books with plates, . thompson brothers, wood engravers, . thou, james augustus de, royal librarian, . titian, influence on book illustration, . title-page, the first, , ; illustrated, , . toledo, first printer, . tornes, hans de, printer in lyons, . torresani, andrea, succeeded jenson, . tortorel and perrissin, plates on the religious wars, . tory, geoffroy, printer and engraver, , , . toulouse, first printer, . travel, books of, , . treschel, john, printer at lyons, , . treves, peter of, first printer at southwark, . trithemius, account of peter schoeffer, . turner, j. m. w., designs for rogers' works, . type-founding, , . united states, printing in, ; public libraries in, . utrecht, early printers at, , . valdarfer, christopher, printer at venice, . valencia, first printer, . valladier, andrew, _métanéologie_, . valturius, _de re militari_, , . veldener, john, printer at louvain, . venice, first printers, ; first title-page printed at, ; sixteenth century work, ; seventeenth century, ; libraries of, . verard, antony, printer in paris, , ; his books of hours, . versailles, printing office of the minister for war, . vinci, leonardo da, influence on book illustration, . vitré, antoine, publisher of paris, . voragine, "golden legend," venice, , . vostre, simon, printer in paris, ; his books of hours, . vyel, andrew, printer at palermo, . walchius, story of fust's visit to paris, . walter, john, printer of the _times_, , . water marks in paper, . watervliet, marc laurin de, bindings for, . watteau, engraver, . wechel, printer in paris, . wensler, michael, printer at macon, . westminster, caxton first printer at, . westphalia, john of, printer at louvain, , , . whittingham, charles, printer, . woériot, peter, engraver of emblems, . wohlgemuth, michael, designs for the _schatzbehalter_, . wolfenbüttel, public library of, . woodcuts, first book printed with, . wood engraving, revival of, , , . wynken de worde, early english printer, , . xylographs of the fifteenth century, . zainer, gunther, printer at augsburg, . zell, ulrich, pupil of gutenberg, , , . zwoll, book illustration at, . transcriber's note in this text version, symbols and greek letters in the text are replaced by their name, enclosed in square brackets, e.g. [phi], [double cross]. in addition, oe ligatures are replaced with the letters oe, and superscripts are introduced with the caret character, e.g. xviii^e [** transcriber's notes: superscripts have been represented using regular characters, e.g. "ye th". the [oe] ligature has been replaced with simply an oe. **] ballads of books [illustration] [illustration] ballads of books chosen by brander matthews [illustration] new york dodd, mead and company _copyright, _ by george j. coombes printed by the university press, cambridge, u. s. a. to frederick locker poet and lover of books _come and take a choice of all my library_ titus andronicus, iv. [illustration] [illustration] prefatory note. _______________ the poets have ever been lovers of books; indeed, one might ask how should a man be a poet who did not admire a treasure as precious and as beautiful as a book may be. with evident enjoyment, keats describes a viol, bowstrings torn, cross-wise upon a glorious folio of anacreon; and it was a glorious folio of beaumont and fletcher which another english poet (whose most poetic work was done in prose) "dragged home late at night from barker's in covent garden," and to pacify his conscience for the purchase of which he kept to his overworn suit of clothes for four or five weeks longer than he ought. charles lamb was a true bibliophile, in the earlier and more exact sense of the term; he loved his ragged volumes as he loved his fellow-men, and he was as intolerant of books that are not books as he was of men who were not manly. he conferred the dukedom of his library on coleridge, who was no respecter of books, though he could not but enrich them with his marginal notes. southey and lord houghton and mr. locker are english poets with libraries of their own, more orderly and far richer than the fortuitous congregation of printed atoms, a mere medley of unrelated tomes, which often masquerades as the library in the mansions of the noble and the wealthy. shelley said that he thought southey had a secret in every one of his books which he was afraid the stranger might discover: but this was probably no more, and no other, than the secret of comfort, consolation, refreshment, and happiness to be found in any library by him who shall bring with him the golden key that unlocks its silent door. mr. lowell has recently dwelt on the difference between literature and books: and, accepting this distinction, the editor desires to declare at once that as a whole this collection is devoted rather to books than to literature. the poems in the following pages celebrate the bric-a-brac of the one rather than the masterpieces of the other. the stanzas here garnered into one sheaf sing of books as books, of books valuable and valued for their perfection of type and page and printing,--for their beauty and for their rarity,--or for their association with some famous man or woman of the storied past two centuries and a half ago drummond of hawthornden prefixed to the 'varieties' of his friend persons a braggart distich:-- this book a world is; here, if errors be, the like, nay worse, in the great world we see. the present collection of varieties in verse has little or naught to do with the great world and its errors: it has to do chiefly, not to say wholly, with the world of the bookmen--the little world of the book-lover, the bibliophile, the bibliomaniac--a mad world, my masters, in which there are to be found not a few poets who cherish old wine and old wood, old friends and old books, and who believe that old books are the best of old friends. books, books again, and books once more! these are our theme, which some miscall mere madness, setting little store by copies either short or tall, but you, o slaves of shelf and stall! we rather write for you that hold patched folios dear, and prize "the small rare volume, black with burnished gold." as mr. austin dobson sang on the threshold of mr. lang's delightfully discursive little book about the 'library.' the editor has much pleasure in thanking the poets who have allowed him to reprint their poems in these pages; and he acknowledges a double debt of gratitude to the friends who have written poems expressly for this collection. encouraged by their support, and remembering that he is not a contributor to his own pages, the editor ventures to conclude his harmless necessary catalogue of the things contained and not contained within these covers, by quoting herrick's address to his book:-- be bold, my book, nor be abash'd, or fear, the cutting thumb-nail, or the brow severe; but by the muses swear, all here is good, if but well read, or ill read, understood. brander matthews. new york, _november_, . [illustration] [illustration] =proem.= _ballade of the bookworm._ _deep in the past i peer, and see a child upon the nursery floor, a child with book, upon his knee, who asks, like oliver, for more! the number of his years is iv, and yet in letters hath he skill, how deep he dives in fairy-lore! the books i loved, i love them still!_ _one gift the fairies gave me: (three they commonly bestowed of yore) the love of books, the golden key that opens the enchanted door; behind it bluebeard lurks and o'er and o'er doth jack his giants kill, and there is all aladdin's store,-- the books i loved, i love them still!_ _take all, but leave my books to me! these heavy creels of old we love we fill not now, nor wander free, nor wear the heart that once we wore; not now each river seems to pour his waters from the muse's hill; though something's gone from stream and shore, the books i love, i love them still!_ _envoy!_ _fate, that art queen by shore and sea, we bow submissive to thy will, ah grant, by some benign decree, the books i loved--to love them still._ a. lang. [illustration] [illustration] =contents.= page _prefatory note_ v proem. [ ]_ballade of the bookworm_ (a. lang) ix edward d. anderson. _the baby in the library_ francis bennoch. _my books_ laman blanchard. _the art of book-keeping_ anne c. l. botta. _in the library_ h. c. bunner. [ ]_my shakspere_ robert burns. _the bookworms_ catullus. [ ]_to his book_ (translated by a. lang) beverly chew. _old books are best_ thomas s. collier. [ ]_the forgotten books_ helen gray cone. _an invocation in a library_ samuel daniel. _concerning the honor of books_ isaac d'israeli. _lines_ austin dobson. _my books_ _to a missal of the thirteenth century_ _the book-plate's petition_ henry drury. _over the threshold of my library_ maurice f. egan. _the chrysalis of a bookworm_ evenus. _epigram_ (translated by a. lang) john ferriar. _the bibliomania_ f. fertiault. _triolet to her husband_ (translated by a. lang) william freeland. _a nook and a book_ edmund gosse. [ ]_the sultan of my books_ thomas gordon hake. _our book-shelves_ robert herrick. _to his book_ _to his book_ horace. [ ]_to his books_ (translated by austin dobson) leigh hunt. _sonnet_ willis fletcher johnson. _my books_ ben jonson. _to my bookseller_ _to sir henry goodyere_ charles lamb. _in the album of lucy barton_ a. lang. _ballade of the book-hunter_ _ballade of true wisdom_ _ballade of the bookman's paradise_ _the rowfant books_ _the rowfant library_ _ghosts in the library_ george parsons lathrop. [ ]_the book battalion_ walter learned. [ ]_on the fly-leaf of a book of old plays_ robert leighton. _too many books_ frederick locker. [ ]_from the fly-leaf of the rowfant montaigne_ henry wadsworth longfellow. _my books_ lord lytton. _the souls of books_ cosmo monkhouse. [ ]_de libris_ arthur j. munby. [ ]_ex libris_ [ ]_on an inscription_ caroline norton. _to my books_ f. m. p. _'desultory reading'_ thomas parnell. _the bookworm_ samuel minturn peck. _among my books_ walter herries pollock. [ ]_a ruined library_ bryan waller procter (barry cornwall). _my books_ william roscoe. _to my books on parting with them_ lord rosslyn. _among my books_ john godfrey saxe. _the library_ clinton scollard. _in the library_ frank dempster sherman. _the book-hunter_ robert southey. _the library_ robert louis stevenson. _picture-books in winter_ richard henry stoddard. _companions_ richard thomson. _the book of life_ charles tennyson turner. _on certain books_ henry vaughan. _to his books_ samuel waddington. [ ]_literature and nature_ john greenleaf whittier. _the library_ tomas yriarte. _the country squire_ anonymous. _old books_ _appendix._ george crabbe. _the library_ a final word. [ ]_the collector to his library_ (austin dobson) [illustration] [ ] the poems thus marked were written or translated for the present collection. =ballads of books= ballads of books. the baby in the library. edward d. anderson. _from 'wide-awake' for may, ._ within these solemn, book-lined walls, did mortal ever see a critic so unprejudiced, so full of mirthful glee? just watch her at that lower shelf: see, there she's thumped her nose against the place where webster stands in dignified repose. such heavy books she scorns; and she considers vapereau, and beeton, too, though full of life, quite stupid, dull, and slow. she wants to take a higher flight, aspiring little elf! and on her mother's arm at length she gains a higher shelf. but, oh! what liberties she takes with those grave, learnèd men; historians, and scientists, and even "rare old ben!" at times she takes a spiteful turn, and pommels, with her fists, de quincey, jeffrey, and carlyle, and other essayists. and, when her wrath is fully roused, and she's disposed for strife, it almost looks as if she'd like to take macaulay's 'life.' again, in sympathetic mood, she gayly smiles at gay, and punches punch, and frowns at sterne in quite a dreadful way. in vain the sermons shake their heads: she does not care for these; but catches, with intense delight, at all the tales she sees. where authors chance to meet her views, just praise they never lack; to comfort and encourage them, she pats them on the back. my books. francis bennoch. _from the 'storm and other poems.' ._ i love my books as drinkers love their wine; the more i drink, the more they seem divine; with joy elate my soul in love runs o'er, and each fresh draught is sweeter than before. books bring me friends where'er on earth i be,-- solace of solitude,--bonds of society! i love my books! they are companions dear, sterling in worth, in friendship most sincere; here talk i with the wise in ages gone, and with the nobly gifted of our own. if love, joy, laughter, sorrow please my mind, love, joy, grief, laughter in my books i find. the art of book-keeping. laman blanchard. _from his 'poetical works.' ._ how hard, when those who do not wish to lend, that's lose, their books, are snared by anglers--folks that fish with literary hooks; who call and take some favorite tome, but never read it through,-- they thus complete their set at home, by making one at you. behold the bookshelf of a dunce who borrows--never lends: yon work, in twenty volumes, once belonged to twenty friends. new tales and novels you may shut from view--'tis all in vain; they're gone--and though the leaves are "cut" they never "come again." for pamphlets lent i look around, for tracts my tears are spilt; but when they take a book that's bound, 'tis surely extra-gilt. a circulating library is mine--my birds are flown; there's one odd volume left to be like all the rest, a-lone. i, of my spenser quite bereft, last winter sore was shaken; of lamb i've but a quarter left, nor could i save my bacon. my hall and hill were levelled flat, but moore was still the cry; and then, although i threw them sprat, they swallowed up my pye. o'er everything, however slight, they seized some airy trammel; they snatched my hogg and fox one night, and pocketed my campbell. and then i saw my crabbe at last, like hamlet's, backward go; and, as my tide was ebbing fast, of course i lost my rowe. i wondered into what balloon my books their course had bent; and yet, with all my marvelling, soon i found my marvell went. my mallet served to knock me down, which makes me thus a talker; and once, while i was out of town, my johnson proved a walker. while studying o'er the fire one day my hobbes amidst the smoke, they bore my colman clean away, and carried off my coke. they picked my locke, to me far more than bramah's patent's worth; and now my losses i deplore without a home on earth. if once a book you let them lift, another they conceal; for though i caught them stealing swift, as swiftly went my steele. hope is not now upon my shelf, where late he stood elated; but, what is strange, my pope himself is excommunicated. my little suckling in the grave is sunk to swell the ravage; and what 'twas crusoe's fate to save 'twas mine to lose--a savage. even glover's works i cannot put my frozen hands upon; though ever since i lost my foote my bunyan has been gone. my hoyle with cotton went; oppressed, my taylor too must sail; to save my goldsmith from arrest, in vain i offered bayle. i prior sought, but could not see the hood so late in front; and when i turned to hunt for lee, oh! where was my leigh hunt. i tried to laugh, old care to tickle, yet could not tickell touch; and then, alas! i missed my mickle, and surely mickle's much. 'tis quite enough my griefs to feed, my sorrows to excuse, to think i cannot read my reid, nor even use my hughes. to west, to south, i turn my head, exposed alike to odd jeers; for since my roger ascham's fled, i ask 'em for my rogers. they took my horne--and horne tooke, too, and thus my treasures flit; i feel, when i would hazlitt view, the flames that it has lit. my word's worth little, wordsworth gone, if i survive its doom; how many a bard i doated on was swept off--with my broome. my classics would not quiet lie, a thing so fondly hoped; like dr. primrose, i may cry, "my livy has eloped!" my life is wasting fast away-- i suffer from these shocks; and though i've fixed a lock on gray, there's gray upon my locks. i'm far from young--am growing pale-- i see my butter fly; and when they ask about my _ail_, 'tis burton! i reply. they still have made me slight returns, and thus my griefs divide; for oh! they've cured me of my burns, and eased my akenside. but all i think i shall not say, nor let my anger burn; for as they never found me gay, they have not left me sterne. in the library. anne c. l. botta. _from her collected 'poems.' ._ speak low--tread softly through these halls; here genius lives enshrined,-- here reign, in silent majesty, the monarchs of the mind. a mighty spirit-host, they come from every age and clime; above the buried wrecks of years they breast the tide of time. and in their presence-chamber here they hold their regal state, and round them throng a noble train, the gifted and the great. o child of earth, when round thy path the storms of life arise, and when thy brothers pass thee by with stern, unloving eyes,-- here shall the poets chant for thee their sweetest, loftiest lays; and prophets wait to guide thy steps in wisdom's pleasant ways. come, with these god-anointed kings be thou companion here, and in the mighty realm of mind thou shalt go forth a peer. my shakspere. h. c. bunner. _written expressly for this collection._ with bevelled binding, with uncut edge, with broad white margin and gilded top, fit for my library's choicest ledge, fresh from the bindery, smelling of shop, in tinted cloth, with a strange design-- buskin and scroll-work and mask and crown, and an arabesque legend tumbling down-- "the works of shakspere" were never so fine. fresh from the shop! i turn the page-- its "ample margin" is wide and fair-- its type is chosen with daintiest care; there's a "new french elzevir" strutting there that would shame its prototypic age. fresh from the shop! o shakspere mine, i've half a notion you're much too fine! there's an ancient volume that i recall, in foxy leather much chafed and worn; its back is broken by many a fall, the stitches are loose and the leaves are torn; and gone is the bastard-title, next to the title-page scribbled with owners' names, that in straggling old-style type proclaims that the work is from the corrected text left by the late geo. steevens, esquire. the broad sky burns like a great blue fire, and the lake shines blue as shimmering steel, and it cuts the horizon like a blade-- but behind the poplar's a strip of shade-- the great tall lombardy on the lawn. and lying there in the grass, i feel the wind that blows from the canada shore, and in cool, sweet puffs comes stealing o'er, fresh as any october dawn. i lie on my breast in the grass, my feet lifted boy-fashion, and swinging free, the old brown shakspere in front of me. and big are my eyes, and my heart's a-beat; and my whole soul's lost--in what?--who knows? perdita's charms or perdita's woes-- perdita fairy-like, fair and sweet. is any one jealous, i wonder, now, of my love for perdita? for i vow i loved her well. and who can say that life would be quite the same life to-day-- that love would mean so much, if she had not taught me its a b c? the grandmother, thin and bent and old, but her hair still dark and her eyes still bright, totters around among her flowers-- old-fashioned flowers of pink and white; and turns with a trowel the dark rich mould that feeds the blooms of her heart's delight. ah me! for her and for me the hours go by, and for her the smell of earth-- and for me the breeze and a far love's birth, and the sun and the sky and all the things that a boy's heart hopes and a poet sings. fresh from the shop! o shakspere mine, it wasn't the binding made you divine! i knew you first in a foxy brown, in the old, old home, where i laid me down, in the idle summer afternoons, with you alone in the odorous grass, and set your thoughts to the wind's low tunes, and saw your children rise up and pass-- and dreamed and dreamed of the things to be, known only, i think, to you and me. i've hardly a heart for you dressed so fine-- fresh from the shop, o shakspere mine! the bookworms. _burns saw a splendidly bound but sadly neglected copy of shakspere in the_ robert burns. _library of a nobleman in edinburgh, and he wrote these lines on the ample margin of one of its pages, where they were found long after the poet's death._ through and through the inspired leaves, ye maggots, make your windings; but oh, respect his lordship's taste, and spare the golden bindings. catullus to his book. qvoi dono lepidvm novvm libellvm. caius valerius catullus. _translated by a. lang expressly for this collection._ my little book, that's neat and new, fresh polished with dry pumice stone, to whom, cornelius, but to you, shall _this_ be sent, for you alone-- (who used to praise my lines, my own)-- have dared, in weighty volumes three, (what labors, jove, what learning thine!) to tell the tale of italy, and all the legend of our line. so take, whate'er its worth may be, my book,--but lady and queen of song, this one kind gift i crave of thee, that it may live for ages long! old books are best. to j. h. p. beverly chew. _from the 'critic' of march , ._ old books are best! with what delight does "faithorne fecit" greet our sight on frontispiece or title-page of that old time, when on the stage "sweet nell" set "rowley's" heart alight! and you, o friend, to whom i write, must not deny, e'en though you might, through fear of modern pirate's rage, old books are best. what though the prints be not so bright, the paper dark, the binding slight? our author, be he dull or sage, returning from that distant age so lives again, we say of right: old books are best. the forgotten books. thomas s. collier. _written expressly for this collection._ hid by the garret's dust, and lost amid the cobwebs wreathed above, they lie, these volumes that have cost such weeks of hope and waste of love. the theologian's garnered lore of scripture text, and words divine; and verse, that to some fair one bore thoughts that like fadeless stars would shine; the grand wrought epics, that were born from mighty throes of heart and brain,-- here rest, their covers all unworn, and all their pages free from stain. here lie the chronicles that told of man, and his heroic deeds-- alas! the words once "writ in gold" are tarnished so that no one reads. and tracts that smote each other hard, while loud the friendly plaudits rang, all animosities discard, where old, moth-eaten garments hang. the heroes that were made to strut in tinsel on "life's mimic stage" found, all too soon, the deepening rut which kept them silent in the page; and heroines, whose loveless plight should wake the sympathetic tear, in volumes sombre as the night sleep on through each succeeding year. here phyllis languishes forlorn, and strephon waits beside his flocks, and early huntsmen wind the horn, within the boundaries of a box. here, by the irony of fate, beside the "peasant's humble board," the monarch "flaunts his robes of state," and spendthrifts find the miser's hoard. days come and go, and still we write, and hope for some far happier lot than that our work should meet this blight-- and yet--some books must be forgot. an invocation in a library. helen gray cone. _from 'oberon and puck.' ._ o brotherhood, with bay-crowned brows undaunted, who passed serene along our crowded ways, speak with us still! for we, like saul, are haunted: harp sullen spirits from these later days! whate'er high hope ye had for man your brother, breathe it, nor leave him, like a prisoned slave, to stare through bars upon a sight no other than clouded skies that lighten on a grave. in these still alcoves give us gentle meeting, from dusky shelves kind arms about us fold, till the new age shall feel her cold heart beating restfully on the warm heart of the old: till we shall hear your voices, mild and winning steal through our doubt and discord, as outswells at fiercest noon, above a city's dinning, the chiming music of cathedral bells: music that lifts the thought from trodden places, and coarse confusions that around us lie, up to the calm of high, cloud-silvered spaces, where the tall spire points through the soundless sky. concerning the honor of books. _this sonnet, prefixed to the second edition of florio's montaigne, , is_ samuel daniel. _generally attributed to the translator, but the best critics now incline to the belief that it is by his friend, daniel._ since honor from the honorer proceeds, how well do they deserve, that memorize and leave in books for all posterity the names of worthies and their virtuous deeds; when all their glory else, like water-weeds without their element, presently dies, and all their greatness quite forgotten lies, and when and how they flourished no man heeds; how poor remembrances are statues, tombs, and other monuments that men erect to princes, which remain in closèd rooms, where but a few behold them, in respect of books, that to the universal eye show how they lived; the other where they lie! lines. isaac d'israeli. _imitated from rantzau, the founder of the library at copenhagen._ golden volumes! richest treasures! objects of delicious pleasures! you my eyes rejoicing please, you my hands in rapture seize! brilliant wits, and musing sages, lights who beamed through many ages, left to your conscious leaves their story, and dared to trust you with their glory; and now their hope of fame achieved! dear volumes! you have not deceived! my books. austin dobson. _from 'at the sign of the lyre.' ._ they dwell in the odor of camphor, they stand in a sheraton shrine, they are "warranted early editions," these worshipful tomes of mine;-- in their creamy "oxford vellum," in their redolent "crushed levant," with their delicate watered linings, they are jewels of price, i grant;-- blind-tooled and morocco-jointed, they have bedford's daintiest dress, they are graceful, attenuate, polished, but they gather the dust, no less;-- for the row that i prize is yonder, away on the unglazed shelves, the bulged and the bruised _octavos_, the dear and the dumpy twelves,-- montaigne with his sheepskin blistered, and howell the worse for wear, and the worm-drilled jesuits' horace, and the little old cropped molière,-- and the burton i bought for a florin, and the rabelais foxed and flea'd,-- for the others i never have opened, but those are the ones i read. to a missal of the thirteenth century. austin dobson. _from 'at the sign of the lyre.' ._ missal of the gothic age, missal with the blazoned page, whence, o missal, hither come, from what dim scriptorium? whose the name that wrought thee thus, ambrose or theophilus, bending, through the waning light, o'er thy vellum scraped and white; weaving 'twixt thy rubric lines sprays and leaves and quaint designs: setting round thy border scrolled buds of purple and of gold? ah!--a wondering brotherhood, doubtless, round that artist stood, strewing o'er his careful ways little choruses of praise; glad when his deft hand would paint strife of sathanas and saint, or in secret coign entwist jest of cloister humorist. well the worker earned his wage, bending o'er the blazoned page! tired the hand and tired the wit ere the final _explicit_! not as ours the books of old-- things that steam can stamp and fold; not as ours the books of yore-- rows of type, and nothing more. then a book was still a book, where a wistful man might look, finding something through the whole, beating--like a human soul. in that growth of day by day, when to labor was to pray, surely something vital passed to the patient page at last; something that one still perceives vaguely present in the leaves; something from the worker lent; something mute--but eloquent! the book-plate's petition. by a gentleman of the temple. austin dobson. _published originally in 'notes and queries,' january , ._ while cynic charles still trimm'd the vane 'twixt _querouaille_ and _castlemaine_, in days that shocked john evelyn, my first possessor fix'd me in. in days of _dutchmen_ and of frost, the narrow sea with james i crossed; returning when once more began the age of _saturn_ and of anne. i am a part of all the past; i knew the georges, first and last; i have been oft where else was none save the great wig of addison; and seen on shelves beneath me grope the little eager form of pope. i lost the third that own'd me when french noailles fled at dettingen; the year james wolfe surpris'd quebec, the fourth in hunting broke his neck; the day that william hogarth dy'd, the fifth one found me in cheapside. this was a _scholar_, one of those whose _greek_ is sounder than their _hose_; he lov'd old books, and nappy ale, so liv'd at streatham, next to thrale. 'twas there this stain of grease i boast was made by dr. johnson's toast. (he did it, as i think, for spite; my master called him _jacobite_!) and now that i so long to-day have rested _post discrimina_, safe in the brass-wir'd book-case where i watched the vicar's whit'ning hair must i these travell'd bones inter in some _collector's_ sepulchre! must i be torn from hence and thrown with _frontispiece_ and _colophon_! with vagrant _e_'s, and _i_'s and _o_'s, the spoil of plunder'd _folios_! with scraps and snippets that to me are naught but _kitchen company_! nay, rather, friend, this favor grant me; tear me at once; _but don't transplant me_. cheltenham, _sept. , ._ over the threshold of my library. _quoted from the supplement of dibdin's_ henry drury. _'bibliomania,' where the original latin lines may be found._ from mouldering abbey's dark scriptorium brought, see vellum tomes by monkish labor wrought; nor yet the comma born, papyri see, and uncial letters' wizard grammary: view my _fifteeners_ in their ragged line; what ink! what linen! only known long syne-- entering where aldus might have fixed his throne, or harry stephens coveted his own. the chrysalis of a bookworm. maurice f. egan. _from 'songs and sonnets.' ._ i read, o friend, no pages of old lore, which i loved well, and yet the flying days, that softly passed as wind through green spring ways and left a perfume, swift fly as of yore, though in clear plato's stream i look no more, neither with moschus sing sicilian lays, nor with bold dante wander in amaze, nor see our will the golden age restore. i read a book to which old books are new, and new books old. a living book is mine-- in age, three years: in it i read no lies-- in it to myriad truths i find the clew-- a tender, little child: but i divine thoughts high as dante's in its clear blue eyes. epigram. evenus (the grammarian). _rendered into english by a. lang in the 'library.' ._ pest of the muses, devourer of pages, in crannies hat lurkest, fruits of the muses to taint, labor of learning to spoil; wherefore, o black-fleshed worm! wert thou born for the evil thou workest? wherefore thine own foul form shap'st thou with envious toil? the bibliomania. hic, inquis, veto quisquam fuit oletum. pinge duos angues. pers. _sat._ i. l. . john ferriar. "_an epistle to richard heber, esq." manchester, april, _. what wild desires, what restless torments seize the hapless man, who feels the book-disease, if niggard fortune cramp his gen'rous mind and prudence quench the spark by heaven assign'd! with wistful glance his aching eyes behold the princeps-copy, clad in blue and gold, where the tall book-case, with partition thin, displays, yet guards the tempting charms within: so great facardin view'd, as sages[ ] tell, fair crystalline immur'd in lucid cell. not thus the few, by happier fortune grac'd, and blest, like you, with talents, wealth, and taste, who gather nobly, with judicious hand, the muse's treasures from each letter'd strand. for you the monk illum'd his pictur'd page, for you the press defies the spoils of age; faustus for you infernal tortures bore, for you erasmus[ ] starv'd on adria's shore. the folio-aldus loads your happy shelves, and dapper elzevirs, like fairy elves, shew their light forms amidst the well-gilt twelves: in slender type the giolitos shine, and bold bodoni stamps his roman line. for you the louvre opes its regal doors, and either didot lends his brilliant stores: with faultless types, and costly sculptures bright, ibarra's quixote charms your ravish'd sight: laborde in splendid tablets shall explain thy beauties, glorious, tho' unhappy spain! o, hallowed name, the theme of future years, embalm'd in patriot-blood, and england's tears, be thine fresh honors from the tuneful tongue, by isis' stream which mourning zion sung! but devious oft' from ev'ry classic muse, the keen collector meaner paths will choose: and first the margin's breadth his soul employs, pure, snowy, broad, the type of nobler joys. in vain might homer roll the tide of song, or horace smile, or tully charm the throng; if crost by pallas' ire, the trenchant blade or too oblique, or near, the edge invade, the bibliomane exclaims, with haggard eye, "no margin!" turns in haste, and scorns to buy. he turns where pybus rears his atlas-head, or madoc's mass conceals its veins of lead. the glossy lines in polish'd order stand, while the vast margin spreads on either hand, like russian wastes, that edge the frozen deep, chill with pale glare, and lull to mortal sleep.[ ] or english books, neglected and forgot, excite his wish in many a dusty lot: whatever trash _midwinter_ gave to day, or _harper's_ rhiming sons, in paper gray, at ev'ry auction, bent on fresh supplies, he cons his catalogue with anxious eyes: where'er the slim italics mark the page, _curious and rare_ his ardent mind engage. unlike the swans, in tuscan song display'd, he hovers eager o'er oblivion's shade, to snatch obscurest names from endless night, and give cokain or fletcher[ ] back to light. in red morocco drest he loves to boast the bloody murder, or the yelling ghost; or dismal ballads, sung to crouds of old, now cheaply bought for thrice their weight in gold. yet to th' unhonor'd dead be satire just; some flow'rs[ ] "smell sweet and blossom in their dust." 'tis thus ev'n shirley boasts a golden line, and lovelace strikes, by fits, a note divine. th' unequal gleams like midnight-lightnings play, and deepen'd gloom succeeds, in place of day. but human bliss still meets some envious storm; he droops to view his paynters' mangled form: presumptuous grief, while pensive taste repines o'er the frail relics of her attic shrines! o for that power, for which magicians vye. to look through earth, and secret hoards descry! i'd spurn such gems as marinel[ ] beheld, and all the wealth aladdin's cavern held, might i divine in what mysterious gloom the rolls of sacred bards have found their tomb: beneath what mould'ring tower, or waste champain, is hid menander, sweetest of the train: where rests antimachus' forgotten lyre, where gentle sappho's still seductive fire; or he,[ ] whom chief the laughing muses own, yet skill'd with softest accents to bemoan sweet philomel[ ] in strains so like her own. the menial train has prov'd the scourge of wit, ev'n omar burnt less science than the spit. earthquakes and wars remit their deadly rage, but ev'ry feast demands some fated page. ye towers of julius,[ ] ye alone remain of all the piles that saw our nation's stain, when harry's sway opprest the groaning realm, and lust and rapine seiz'd the wav'ring helm. then ruffian-hands defaced the sacred fanes, their saintly statues and their storied panes; then from the chest, with ancient art embost, the penman's pious scrolls were rudely tost; then richest manuscripts, profusely spread, the brawny churls' devouring oven fed: and thence collectors date the heav'nly ire that wrapt augusta's domes in sheets of fire.[ ] taste, tho' misled, may yet some purpose gain, but fashion guides a book-compelling train.[ ] once, far apart from learning's moping crew, the travell'd beau display'd his red-heel'd shoe, till orford rose, and told of rhiming peers, repeating _noble_ words to polish'd ears;[ ] taught the gay croud to prize a fluttering name, in trifling toil'd, nor "blush'd to find it fame." the letter'd fop, now takes a larger scope, with classic furniture, design'd by hope, (hope whom upholst'rers eye with mute despair, the doughty pedant of an elbow-chair;) now warm'd by orford, and by granger school'd, in paper-books, superbly gilt and tool'd, he pastes, from injur'd volumes snipt away, his _english heads_, in chronicled array. torn from their destin'd page (unworthy meed of knightly counsel, and heroic deed) not faithorne's stroke, nor field's own types can save [ ] the gallant veres, and one-eyed ogle brave. indignant readers seek the image fled, and curse the busy fool, who _wants a head_. proudly he shews, with many a smile elate, the scrambling subjects of the _private plate_; while time their actions and their names bereaves, they grin for ever in the guarded leaves. like poets, born, in vain collectors strive to cross their fate, and learn the art to thrive. like cacus, bent to tame their struggling will, the tyrant-passion drags them backward still: ev'n i, debarr'd of ease, and studious hours, confess, mid' anxious toil, its lurking pow'rs. how pure the joy, when first my hands unfold the small, rare volume, black with tarnish'd gold! the eye skims restless, like the roving bee, o'er flowers of wit, or song, or repartee, while sweet as springs, new-bubbling from the stone, glides through the breast some pleasing theme unknown. now dipt in rossi's[ ] terse and classic style, his harmless tales awake a transient smile. now bouchet's motley stores my thoughts arrest, with wond'rous reading, and with learned jest. bouchet[ ] whose tomes a grateful line demand, the valued gift of stanley's lib'ral hand. now sadly pleased, through faded rome i stray, and mix regrets with gentle du bellay;[ ] or turn, with keen delight, the curious page, where hardy pasquin[ ] braves the pontiff's rage. but d----n's strains should tell the sad reverse, when business calls, invet'rate foe to verse! tell how "the demon claps his iron hands," "waves his lank locks, and scours along the lands." through wintry blasts, or summer's fire i go, to scenes of danger, and to sights of woe. ev'n when to margate ev'ry cockney roves, and brainsick-poets long for shelt'ring groves, whose lofty shades exclude the noontide glow, while zephyrs breathe, and waters trill below,[ ] me rigid fate averts, by tasks like these, from heav'nly musings, and from letter'd ease. such wholesome checks the better genius sends, from dire rehearsals to protect our friends: else when the social rites our joys renew, the stuff'd portfolio would alarm your view, whence volleying rhimes your patience would o'er-come, and, spite of kindness, drive you early home. so when the traveller's hasty footsteps glide near smoking lava on vesuvio's side, hoarse-mutt'ring thunders from the depths proceed, and spouting fires incite his eager speed. appall'd he flies, while rattling show'rs invade, invoking ev'ry saint for instant aid: breathless, amaz'd, he seeks the distant shore, and vows to tempt the dang'rous gulph no more. [ ] _sages_, count hamilton, in the 'quatre facardins,' and mr. m. lewis, in his 'tales of romance.' [ ] see the 'opulentia sordida,' in his 'colloquies,' where he complains feelingly of the spare venetian diet. [ ] it may be said that quintilian recommends margins; but it is with a view to their being occasionally occupied: debet vacare etiam locus, in quo notentur quæ scribentibus solent extra ordinem, id est ex aliis quam qui sunt in manibus loci, occurrere. irrumpunt enim optimi nonnunquam sensus, quos neque inserere oportet, neque differre tutum est. 'instit.' lib. x. c. . he was therefore no _margin-man_, in the modern sense. [ ] _fletcher._ a translator of martial. a very bad poet, but _exceedingly scarce_. [ ] only the actions of the just smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. shirley. perhaps shirley had in view this passage of persius,-- nunc non é tumulo, fortunataque favilla nascentur violæ? 'sat.' i. l. . [ ] 'faërie queene.' [ ] aristophanes. [ ] see his exquisite hymn to the nightingale in his =ornithes=. [ ] gray. [ ] the fire of london. [ ] cloud-compelling jove.--pope's 'iliad.' [ ] . . . gaudent prænomine molles auriculæ. juvenal. [ ] _the gallant veres and one-eyed ogle._ three fine heads, for the sake of which, the beautiful and interesting 'commentaries' of sir francis veres have been mutilated by the collectors of english portraits. [ ] generally known by the name of james nicius erythræus. the allusion is to his 'pinacotheca.' [ ] 'les serées de gillaume bouchet,' a book of uncommon rarity. i possess a handsome copy by the kindness of colonel stanley. [ ] 'les regrets,' by joachim du bellay, contain a most amusing and instructive account of rome in the sixteenth century. [ ] 'pasquillorum tomi duo.' [ ] errare per lucos, æmænæ, quos et aquæ subeunt et auræ. horat. triolet to her husband. f. fertiault. _rendered into english by a. lang in the 'library.' ._ books rule thy mind, so let it be! thy heart is mine, and mine alone. what more can i require of thee? books rule thy mind, so let it be! contented when thy bliss i see, i wish a world of books thine own. books rule thy mind, so let it be! thy heart is mine, and mine alone. a nook and a book. william freeland. _from 'a birth song and other poems.' ._ give me a nook and a book, and let the proud world spin round; let it scramble by hook or by crook for wealth or a name with a sound. you are welcome to amble your ways, aspirers to place or to glory; may big bells jangle your praise, and golden pens blazon your story! for me, let me dwell in my nook, here by the curve of this brook, that croons to the tune of my book, whose melody wafts me forever on the waves of an unseen river. give me a book and a nook far away from the glitter and strife; give me a staff and a crook, the calm and the sweetness of life; let me pause--let me brood as i list, on the marvels of heaven's own spinning-- sunlight and moonlight and mist, glorious without slaying or sinning. vain world, let me reign in my nook, king of this kingdom, my book, a region by fashion forsook; pass on, ye lean gamblers for glory, nor mar the sweet tune of my story! the sultan of my books. there is many a true word spoken in doggerel.--_czech folk-song._ edmund gosse. _written for the present collection._ come hither, my wither, my suckling, my dryden! my hudibras, hither! my heinsius from leyden! dear play-books in quarto, fat tomes in brown leather, stray never too far to come back here together! books writ on occult and heretical letters, i, i am the sultan of you and your betters. i need you all round me; when wits have grown muddy, my best hours have found me with you in my study. i've varied departments to give my books shelter; shelves, open apartments for tomes helter-skelter; there are artisans' flats, fit for common editions,-- i find them, as that's fit, good wholesome positions. but books that i cherish live under glass cases; in the waste lest they perish i build them oases; where gas cannot find them, where worms cannot grapple, those panes hold behind them, my eye and its apple. and here you see flirting fine folks of distinction: unique books just skirting the verge of extinction; old texts with one error and long notes upon it; the 'magistrates' mirror' (with nottingham's sonnet); tooled russias to gaze on, moroccos to fondle, my denham, in blazon, my vellum-backed vondel, my marvell,--a copy was never seen taller,-- my jones's 'love's poppy,' my dear little waller; my sandys, a real jewel! my exquisite, 'adamo!' my dean donne's 'death's duel!' my behn (naughty madam o!); ephelia's! orinda's! ma'am pix and ma'am barker!-- the rhymsters you find, as the morals grow darker! i never upbraid these old periwigged sinners, their songs and light ladies, their dances and dinners; my book-shelf's a haven from storms puritanic,-- we sure may be gay when of death we've no panic! my parlor is little, and poor are its treasures; all pleasures are brittle, and so are my pleasures; but though i shall never be beckford or locker, while fate does not sever the door from the knocker, no book shall tap vainly at latch or at lattice (if costumed urbanely, and worth our care, that is): my poets from slumber shall rise in morocco, to shield the new comer from storm or sirocco. * * * * * i might prate thus for pages, the theme is so pleasant; but the gloom of the ages lies on me at present; all business and fear to the cold world i banish. hush! like the ameer, to my harem i vanish! our book-shelves. thomas gordon hake. _from the 'state' of april , ._ what solace would those books afford, in gold and vellum cover, could men but say them word for word who never turn them over! books that must know themselves by heart as by endowment vital, could they their truths to us impart not stopping with the title! line after line their wisdom flows, page after page repeating; yet never on our ears bestows a single sound of greeting. as thus they lie upon the shelves, such wisdom in their pages, do they rehearse it to themselves, or rest like silent sages? one book we know such fun invokes, as well were worth the telling: must it not chuckle o'er the jokes that it is ever spelling? and for the holy bible there, it greets us with mild teaching; though no one its contents may hear, does it not go on preaching? to his book. robert herrick. _prefixed to 'hesperides.' ._ while thou didst keep thy candor undefiled, dearly i loved thee, as my first-born child; but when i sent thee wantonly to roam from house to house, and never stay at home; i brake my bonds of love, and bade thee go, regardless whether well thou sped'st or no, on with thy fortunes then, whate'er they be; if good i'll smile, if bad i'll sigh for thee. to his book. robert herrick. make haste away, and let one be a friendly patron unto thee; lest, rapt from hence, i see thee lie torn for the use of pastery; or see thy injured leaves serve well to make loose gowns for mackerel; or see the grocers, in a trice, make hoods of thee to serve out spice. to his books. _imitated by austin dobson from the_ q. horatius flaccus. _'epistles,' i. , for the present collection._ for mart and street you seem to pine with restless glances, book of mine! still craving on some stall to stand, fresh pumiced from the binder's hand. you chafe at locks, and burn to quit your modest haunt and audience fit, for hearers less discriminate. i reared you up for no such fate. still, if you _must_ be published, go; but mind, you can't come back, you know! "what have i done?"--i hear you cry, and writhe beneath some critic's eye; 'what did i want?'--when, scarce polite, they do but yawn, and roll you tight. and yet, methinks, if i may guess (putting aside your heartlessness in leaving me, and this your home), you should find favor, too, at rome. that is, they'll like you while you're young. when you are old, you'll pass among the great unwashed,--then thumbed and sped, be fretted of slow moths, unread, or to ilerda you'll be sent, or utica, for banishment! and i, whose counsel you disdain, at that your lot shall laugh amain, wryly, as he who, like a fool, pushed o'er the cliff his restive mule. stay, there is worse behind. in age they e'en may take your babbling page in some remotest "slum" to teach mere boys the rudiments of speech! but go. when on warm days you see a chance of listeners, speak of me. tell them i soared from low estate, a freedman's son, to higher fate (that is, make up to me in worth what you must take in point of birth); then tell them that i won renown in peace and war, and pleased the town; paint me as early gray, and one little of stature, fond of sun, quick-tempered, too,--but nothing more. add (if they ask) i'm forty-four, or was, the year that over us both lollius ruled and lepidus. sonnet. _found by mr. alexander ireland in_ leigh hunt. _the london 'examiner' of december , , and not anywhere included in the poet's collected works._ were i to name, out of the times gone by, the poets dearest to me, i should say, pulci for spirits, and a fine, free way; chaucer for manners, and close, silent eye; milton for classic taste, and harp strung high; spenser for luxury, and sweet, sylvan play; horace for chatting with, from day to day; shakspere for all, but most society. but which take with me, could i take but one? shakspere, as long as i was unoppressed with the world's weight, making sad thoughts intenser; but did i wish, out of the common sun, to lay a wounded heart in leafy rest, and dream of things far off and healing,--spenser. my books. willis fletcher johnson. _from the boston 'transcript.'_ on my study shelves they stand, well known all to eye and hand, bound in gorgeous cloth of gold, in morocco rich and old. some in paper, plain and cheap, some in muslin, calf, and sheep; volumes great and volumes small, ranged along my study wall; but their contents are past finding by their size or by their binding. there is one with gold agleam, like the sangreal in a dream, back and boards in every part triumph of the binder's art; costing more, 'tis well believed, than the author e'er received. but its contents? idle tales, flappings of a shallop's sails! in the treasury of learning scarcely worth a penny's turning. here's a tome in paper plain, soiled and torn and marred with stain, cowering from each statelier book in the darkest, dustiest nook. take it down, and lo! each page breathes the wisdom of a sage: weighed a thousand times in gold, half its worth would not be told, for all truth of ancient story crowns each line with deathless glory. on my study shelves they stand; but my study walls expand, as thought's pinions are unfurled, till they compass all the world. endless files go marching by, men of lowly rank and high, some in broadcloth, gem-adorned, some in homespun, fortune-scorned; but god's scales that all are weighed in heed not what each man's arrayed in! to my bookseller. _this is from the third of the poet's books_ ben jonson. _of epigrams. bucklersbury was the street most affected by grocers and apothecaries._ thou that mak'st gain thy end, and wisely well, call'st a book good, or bad, as it doth sell, use mine so too; i give thee leave; but crave, for the luck's sake, it thus much favor have, to lie upon thy stall, till it be sought; not offered, as it made suit to be bought; nor have my title-leaf on posts or walls, or in cleft-sticks, advanced to make calls for termers, or some clerk-like serving-man, who scarce can spell thy hard names; whose knight less can. if without these vile arts it will not sell, send it to bucklersbury, there 't will well. to sir henry goodyere. _this is the eighty-sixth of the poet's first book of epigrams, and, like its immediate_ ben jonson. _predecessor, it was addressed to a gentleman bound in bonds of friendship to many of the men of genius of his time._ when i would know thee, goodyere, my thought looks upon thy well-made choice of friends and books; then do i love thee, and behold thy ends in making thy friends books, and thy books friends: now must i give thy life and deed the voice attending such a study, such a choice; where, though 't be love that to thy praise doth move, it was a knowledge that begat that love. in the album of lucy barton. charles lamb. _written in for the daughter of his friend bernard barton._ little book, surnamed of _white_, clean as yet and fair to sight, keep thy attribution right. never disproportioned scrawl; ugly blot, that's worse than all; on thy maiden clearness fall! in each letter, here designed, let the reader emblemed find neatness of the owner's mind. gilded margins count a sin, let thy leaves attraction win by the golden rules within; saying fetched from sages old; laws which holy writ unfold, worthy to be graved in gold: lighter fancies not excluding; blameless wit, with nothing rude in, sometimes mildly interluding, amid strains of graver measure: virtue's self hath oft her pleasure in sweet muses' groves of leisure. riddles dark, perplexing sense; darker meanings of offence; what but _shades_--he banished hence. whitest thoughts in whitest dress, candid meanings, best express mind of quiet quakeress. ballade of the book-hunter. a. lang. _from 'ballades in blue china.' ._ in torrid heats of late july, in march, beneath the bitter _bise_, he book-hunts while the loungers fly,-- he book-hunts, though december freeze; in breeches baggy at the knees, and heedless of the public jeers, for these, for these, he hoards his fees,-- aldines, bodonis, elzevirs. no dismal stall escapes his eye, he turns o'er tomes of low degrees, there soiled romanticists may lie, or restoration comedies; each tract that flutters in the breeze for him is charged with hopes and fears, in mouldy novels fancy sees aldines, bodonis, elzevirs! with restless eyes that peer and spy, sad eyes that heed not skies nor trees, in dismal nooks he loves to pry, whose motto evermore is _spes_! but ah! the fabled treasure flees; grown rarer with the fleeting years, in rich men's shelves they take their ease, aldines, bodonis, elzevirs! envoy. prince, all the things that tease and please, fame, love, wealth, kisses, cheers, and tears, what are they but such toys as these-- aldines, bodonis, elzevirs? ballade of true wisdom. a. lang. _from 'ballades in blue china.' ._ while others are asking for beauty or fame, or praying to know that for which they should pray, or courting queen venus, that affable dame, or chasing the muses the weary and gray, the sage has found out a more excellent way,-- to pan and to pallas his incense he showers, and his humble petition puts up day by day, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. inventors may bow to the god that is lame, and crave from the light of his stithy a ray; philosophers kneel to the god without name, like the people of athens, agnostics are they; the hunter a fawn to diana will slay, the maiden wild roses will wreathe for the hours,-- but the wise man will ask, ere libation he pay, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. oh grant me a life without pleasure or blame (as mortals count pleasure who rush through their day with a speed to which that of the tempest is tame). oh grant me a house by the beach of a bay, where the waves can be surly in winter, and play with the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers! and i'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. envoy. gods, give or withhold it! your "yea" and your "nay" are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours: but life _is_ worth living, and here we would stay for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. ballade of the bookman's paradise. a. lang. _from 'rhymes à la mode.' ._ there _is_ a heaven, or here, or there,-- a heaven there is, for me and you, where bargains meet for purses spare, like ours, are not so far and few. thuanus' bees go humming through the learned groves, 'neath rainless skies, o'er volumes old and volumes new, within that bookman's paradise! there treasures bound for longepierre keep brilliant their morocco blue, there hookes' 'amanda' is not rare, nor early tracts upon peru! racine is common as rotrou, no shakspere quarto search defies, and caxtons grow as blossoms grew, within that bookman's paradise! there's eve,--not our first mother fair,-- but clovis eve, a binder true; thither does bauzonnet repair, derome, le gascon, padeloup! but never come the cropping crew, that dock a volume's honest size, nor they that "letter" backs askew, within that bookman's paradise! envoy. friend, do not heber and de thou, and scott, and southey, kind and wise, _la chasse au bouquin_ still pursue within that bookman's paradise? the rowfant books. _ballade en guise de rondeau, written for_ a. lang. _the catalogue of mr. frederick locker's books._ the rowfant books, how fair they show, the quarto quaint, the aldine tall, print, autograph, portfolio! back from the outer air they call, the athletes from the tennis ball, this rhymer from his rod and hooks,-- would i could sing them, one and all,-- the rowfant books! the rowfant books! in sun and snow they're dear, but most when tempests fall; the folio towers above the row as once, o'er minor prophets,--saul! what jolly jest books, and what small "dear dumpy twelves" to fill the nooks. you do not find on every stall the rowfant books! the rowfant books! these long ago were chained within some college hall; these manuscripts retain the glow of many a colored capital; while yet the satires keep their gall, while the pastissier puzzles cooks, theirs is a joy that does not pall,-- the rowfant books! envoy. the rowfant books,--ah, magical as famed armida's golden looks, they hold the rhymer for their thrall,-- the rowfant books! the rowfant library. a. lang. _written for the catalogue of mr. frederick locker's books._ i mind me of the shepherd's saw, for, when men spoke of heaven, quoth he, "it's everything that's bright and braw, but _bourhope's_ good enough for me." among the green deep bosomed hills that guard st. mary's loch it lies, the silence of the pastures fills that yeoman's homely paradise! enough for him his mountain lake, his glen the burn goes singing through; and _rowfant_, when the thrushes wake, might well seem paradise to you! for all is old, and tried, and dear, and all is fair, and all about the brook that murmurs from the mere is dimpled with the rising trout. and when the skies of shorter days are dark, and all the paths are mire, how kindly o'er your _books_ the blaze sports from the cheerful study fire; o'er quartos, where our fathers read entranced, the book of shakspere's play, o'er all that poe has dreamed of dread, and all that herrick sang of gay! rare first editions, duly prized, among them dearest far i rate the tome where _walton's_ hand revised his magical receipts for bait. happy, who rich in toys like these forgets a weary nation's ills, who, from his study window sees the circle of the sussex hills! but back to town my muse must fly, and taste the smoke, and list to them who cry the news, and seem to cry (with each gladstonian victory), _woe, woe unto jerusalem!_[ ] [ ] during the general election, november, . ghosts in the library. a. lang. _from 'longman's magazine,' july, ._ suppose, when now the house is dumb, when lights are out, and ashes fall,-- suppose their ancient owners come to claim our spoils of shop and stall, ah me! within the narrow hall how strange a mob would meet and go, what famous folk would haunt them all, octavo, quarto, folio! the great napoleon lays his hand upon this eagle-headed n, that marks for his a pamphlet banned by all but scandal-loving men,-- a libel from some nameless den of frankfort--_arnaud, à la sphère_, wherein one spilt, with venal pen, lies o'er the loves of molière.[ ] another shade--he does not see "boney," the foeman of his race-- the great sir walter, this is he with that grave homely border face. he claims his poem of the chase that rang benvoirlich's valley through; and _this_, that doth the lineage trace and fortunes of the bold buccleuch;[ ] for these were his, and these he gave to one who dwelt beside the peel, that murmurs with its tiny wave to join the tweed at ashestiel. now thick as motes the shadows wheel, and find their own, and claim a share of books wherein ribou did deal, or roulland sold to wise colbert.[ ] what famous folk of old are here! a royal duke comes down to us, and greatly wants his elzevir, his pagan tutor, lucius.[ ] and beckford claims an amorous old heathen in morocco blue;[ ] and who demands eobanus but stately jacques auguste de thou![ ] they come, the wise, the great, the true, they jostle on the narrow stair, the frolic countess de verrue, lamoignon, ay, and longepierre, the new and elder dead are there-- the lords of speech, and song, and pen, gambetta,[ ] schlegel,[ ] and the rare drummond of haunted hawthornden.[ ] ah, and with those, a hundred more, whose names, whose deeds, are quite forgot: brave 'smiths' and 'thompsons' by the score, scrawled upon many a shabby 'lot.' this play-book was the joy of pott[ ]-- pott, for whom now no mortal grieves. our names, like his, remembered not, like his, shall flutter on fly-leaves! at least in pleasant company we bookish ghosts, perchance, may flit; a man may turn a page, and sigh, seeing one's name, to think of it. beauty, or poet, sage, or wit, may ope our book, and muse awhile, and fall into a dreaming fit, as now we dream, and wake, and smile! [ ] 'histoire des intrigues amoureuses de molière et de celles de sa femme. (a la sphère.) a francfort, chez frédéric arnaud, mdcxcvii.' this anonymous tract has actually been attributed, among others, to racine. the copy referred to is marked with a large n in red, with an eagle's head. [ ] 'the lady of the lake,' . 'the lay of the last minstrel,' . "to mrs. robert laidlaw. peel. from the author." [ ] 'dictys cretensis.' apud lambertum roulland. lut. paris. . in red morocco, with the arms of colbert. [ ] 'l. annæi senecæ opera omnia.' lug. bat., apud elzevirios. . with book-plate of the duke of sussex. [ ] 'stratonis epigrammata.' altenburgi, . straton bound up in one volume with epictetus! from the beckford library. [ ] 'opera helii eobani hessi.' yellow morocco, with the first arms of de thou. include a poem addressed "lange, _decus meum_." quantity of penultimate "eobanus" taken for granted, _metri gratiâ_. [ ] 'la journée du chrétien.' coutances, . with inscription, "léon gambetta. rue st. honoré. janvier , ." [ ] villoison's 'homer.' venice, . with tessier's ticket and schlegel's book-plate. [ ] 'les essais de michel.' seigneur de montaigne. "pour françois le febvre de lyon, ." with autograph of gul. drummond, and _cipresso e palma_. [ ] "the little old foxed molière," once the property of william pott, unknown to fame. the book battalion. george parsons lathrop. _written for the present collection._ wherever i go, there's a trusty battalion that follows me faithfully, steady, and true; their force, when i falter, i safely may rally on, knowing their stoutness will carry me through: some fifteen hundred in order impartial, so ranged that they tell what they mean by their looks. of all the armies the world can marshal there are no better soldiers than well-tried books. dumb in their ranks on the shelves imprisoned, they never retreat. give the word, and they'll fire! a few with scarlet and gold are bedizened, but many muster in rough attire; and some, with service and scars grown wizened, seem hardly the mates for their fellows in youth; yet they, and the troops armed only with quiz and light laughter, all battle alike for the truth. here are those who gave motive to sock and to buskin; with critics, historians, poets galore; a cheaply uniformed set of ruskin, which ruskin would hate from his heart's very core; molière (' ), an old calf-bound edition, "_de pierre didot l'aîné, et de firmin didot_." which, meek and demure, with a sort of contrition, is masking its gun-lights, with fun all aglow; and smollett and fielding, as veterans battered-- cloth stripped from their backs, and their sides out of joint, their pictures of life all naked and tattered being thus applied to themselves with a point; and six or eight books that i wrote myself, to look at which, even, i'm half afraid; they brought me more labor and pleasure than pelf, and are clamoring still because they're not paid. but these raw levies remain still faithful, because they know that volumes old stand by me, although their eyes dim and wraithful remind me they seldom at profit were sold. so i say, be they splendid or tatterdemalion, if only you know what they mean by their looks, you will never find a better battalion of soldiers to serve you than well-tried books. on the fly-leaf of a book of old plays. walter learned. _written for the present collection._ at cato's-head in russell street these leaves she sat a-stitching; i fancy she was trim and neat, blue-eyed and quite bewitching. before her, in the street below, all powder, ruffs, and laces, there strutted idle london beaux to ogle pretty faces; while, filling many a sedan chair with hoop and monstrous feather, in patch and powder london's fair went trooping past together. swift, addison, and pope, mayhap they sauntered slowly past her, or printer's boy, with gown and cap for steele, went trotting faster. for beau nor wit had she a look, nor lord nor lady minding; she bent her head above this book, attentive to her binding. and one stray thread of golden hair, caught on her nimble fingers, was stitched within this volume, where until to-day it lingers. past and forgotten, beaux and fair; wigs, powder, all out-dated; a queer antique, the sedan chair; pope, stiff and antiquated. yet as i turn these odd old plays, this single stray lock finding, i'm back in those forgotten days and watch her at her binding. too many books. robert leighton. _from 'reuben, and other poems.' _ i would that we were only readers now, and wrote no more, or in rare heats of soul sweated out thoughts when the o'er-burden'd brow was powerless to control. then would all future books be small and few, and, freed of dross, the soul's refinèd gold; so should we have a chance to read the new, yet not forego the old. but as it is, lord help us, in this flood of daily papers, books, and magazines! we scramble blind as reptiles in the mud, and know not what it means. is it the myriad spawn of vagrant tides, whose growth would overwhelm both sea and shore, yet often necessary loss, provides sufficient and no more? is it the broadcast sowing of the seeds, and from the stones, the thorns and fertile soil, only enough to serve the world's great needs rewards the sower's toil? is it all needed for the varied mind? gives not the teeming press a book too much-- not one, but in its dense neglect shall find some needful heart to touch? ah, who can say that even this blade of grass no mission has--superfluous as it looks? then wherefore feel oppressed and cry, alas, there are too many books! from the fly-leaf of the rowfant montaigne (florio, ). frederick locker. _written for the present collection._ of yore, when books were few and fine, will shakspere cut these leaves of mine, but when he passed i went astray till bought by pope, a gift for gay. then, later on, betwixt my pages a nose was poked--the bolt-court sage's. but though the fame began with rawleigh, and had not dwindled with macaulay, though still i tincture many tomes like lowell's pointed sense, and holmes', for me the halcyon days have past-- i'm here, and with a dunce at last. my books. henry wadsworth longfellow. _written in december, ._ sadly as some old mediæval knight gazed at the arms he could no longer wield, the sword two-handed and the shining shield suspended in the hall, and full in sight, while secret longings for the lost delight of tourney or adventure in the field came over him, and tears but half concealed trembled and fell upon his beard of white, so i behold these books upon their shelf, my ornaments and arms of other days; not wholly useless, though no longer used, for they remind me of my other self, younger and stronger, and the pleasant ways, in which i walked, now clouded and confused. the souls of books. edward bulwer, lord lytton. _from 'earlier poems.'_ i. sit here and muse!--it is an antique room-- high-roof'd, with casements, through whose purple pane unwilling daylight steals amidst the gloom, shy as a fearful stranger. there they reign (in loftier pomp than waking life had known), the kings of thought!--not crown'd until the grave. when agamemnon sinks into the tomb, the beggar homer mounts the monarch's throne! ye ever-living and imperial souls, who rule us from the page in which ye breathe, all that divide us from the clod ye gave!-- law--order--love--intelligence--the sense of beauty--music and the minstrel's wreath!-- what were our wanderings if without your goals? as air and light, the glory ye dispense becomes our being--who of us can tell what he had been, had cadmus never taught the art that fixes into form the thought-- had plato never spoken from his cell, or his high harp blind homer never strung? kinder all earth hath grown since genial shakspere sung! ii. hark! while we muse, without the walls is heard the various murmur of the laboring crowd, how still, within those archive-cells interr'd, the calm ones reign!--and yet they rouse the loud passions and tumults of the circling world! from them, how many a youthful tully caught the zest and ardor of the eager bar; from them, how many a young ambition sought gay meteors glancing o'er the sands afar-- by them each restless wing has been unfurl'd, and their ghosts urge each rival's rushing car! they made yon preacher zealous for the truth; they made yon poet wistful for the star; gave age its pastime--fired the cheek of youth-- the unseen sires of all our beings are,-- iii. and now so still! this, cicero, is thy heart; i hear it beating through each purple line. this is thyself, anacreon--yet, thou art wreath'd, as in athens, with the cnidian vine. i ope thy pages, milton, and, behold, thy spirit meets me in the haunted ground!-- sublime and eloquent, as while, of old, "it flamed and sparkled in its crystal bound;"[ ] these _are_ yourselves--your life of life! the wise, (minstrel or sage) _out_ of their books are clay; but _in_ their books, as from their graves, they rise, angels--that, side by side, upon our way, walk with and warn us! hark! the world so loud, and they, the movers of the world, so still! what gives this beauty to the grave? the shroud scarce wraps the poet, than at once there cease envy and hate! "nine cities claim him dead, through which the living homer begg'd his bread!" and what the charm that can such health distil from wither'd leaves--oft poisons in their bloom? we call some books immoral! _do they live?_ if so, believe me, time hath made them pure. in books, the veriest wicked rest in peace-- god wills that nothing evil shall endure; the grosser parts fly off and leave the whole, as the dust leaves the disembodied soul! come from thy niche, lucretius! thou didst give man the black creed of nothing in the tomb! well, when we read thee, does the dogma taint? no; with a listless eye we pass it o'er, and linger only on the hues that paint the poet's spirit lovelier than his lore. none learn from thee to cavil with their god; none commune with thy genius to depart without a loftier instinct of the heart. thou mak'st no atheist--thou but mak'st the mind richer in gifts which atheists best confute-- fancy and thought! 'tis these that from the sod lift us! the life which soars above the brute ever and mightiest, breathes from a great poet's lute! lo! that grim merriment of hatred;[ ]--born of him,--the master-mocker of mankind, beside the grin of whose malignant spleen, voltaire's gay sarcasm seems a smile serene,-- do we not place it in our children's hands, leading young hope through lemuel's fabled lands?-- god's and man's libel in that foul yahoo!-- well, and what mischief can the libel do? o impotence of genius to belie its glorious task--its mission from the sky! swift wrote this book to wreak a ribald scorn on aught the man should love or priest should mourn-- and lo! the book, from all its ends beguil'd, a harmless wonder to some happy child! [ ] 'comus.' [ ] 'gulliver's travels.' iv. all books grow homilies by time; they are temples, at once, and landmarks. in them, we who _but_ for them, upon that inch of ground we call "the present," from the cell could see no daylight trembling on the dungeon bar; turn, as we list, the globe's great axle round, and feel the near less household than the far! traverse all space, and number every star, there is no past, so long as books shall live! a disinterr'd pompeii wakes again for him who seeks yon well; lost cities give up their untarnish'd wonders, and the reign of jove revives and saturn:--at our will rise dome and tower on delphi's sacred hill; bloom cimon's trees in academe;[ ]--along leucadia's headland, sighs the lesbian's song; with Ægypt's queen once more we sail the nile, and learn how worlds are barter'd for a smile:-- rise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming o'er, ope but that page--lo, babylon once more! [ ] plut. in 'vit. cim.' v. ye make the past our heritage and home: and is this all? no; by each prophet-sage-- no; by the herald souls that greece and rome sent forth, like hymns, to greet the morning star that rose on bethlehem--by thy golden page, melodious plato--by thy solemn dreams, world-wearied tully!--and, above ye all, by this, the everlasting monument of god to mortals, on whose front the beams flash glory-breathing day--our lights ye are to the dark bourne beyond; in you are sent the types of truths whose life is the to-come; in you soars up the adam from the fall; in you the future as the past is given-- ev'n in our death ye bid us hail our birth;-- unfold these pages, and behold the heaven, without one gravestone left upon the earth? de libris. cosmo monkhouse. _written for the present collection._ true--there are books and books. there's gray, for instance, and there's bacon; there's longfellow, and monstrelet, and also colton's 'lacon,' with 'laws of whist' and those of libel, and euclid, and the mormon bible. and some are dear as friends, and some we keep because we need them; and some we ward from worm and thumb, and love too well to read them. my own are poor, and mostly new, but i've an elzevir or two. that as a gift is prized, the next for trouble in the finding; this aldine for its early text, that plantin for the binding; this sorry herrick hides a flower, the record of one perfect hour. but whether it be worth or looks we gently love or strongly, such virtue doth reside in books we scarce can love them wrongly; to sages an eternal school, a hobby (harmless) to the fool. nor altogether fool is he who orders, free from doubt, those books which "no good library should ever be without," and blandly locks the well-glazed door on tomes that issue never more. less may we scorn his cases grand, where safely, surely linger fair virgin fields of type, unscanned and innocent of finger. there rest, preserved from dust accurst, the first editions--and the worst. and least of all should we that write with easy jest deride them, who hope to leave when "lost to sight" the best of us inside them, dear shrines! where many a scribbler's name has lasted--longer than his fame. ex libris. arthur j. munby. _written for the present collection._ man that is born of woman finds a charm in that which he is born of. she it is who moulds him with a frown or with a kiss to good or ill, to welfare or to harm: but, when he has attain'd her soft round arm and drawn it through his own, and made her his, he through her eyes beholds a wider bliss, as sweet as that she gives him, and as warm. what bliss? we dare not name it: her fond looks are jealous too; she hardly understands, girt by her children's laughter or their cries, the stately smooth companionship of books: and yet to her we owe it, to her hands and to her heart, that books can make us wise. on an inscription. "_edward danenhill: book given him by joseph wise, april ye th, ,"_ arthur j. munby. _was the inscription in a copy of carew's 'poems' ( ). written for the present collection._ a man unknown this volume gave, so long since, to his unknown friend, ages ago, their lives had end, and each in some obscurest grave lies mixt with earth: none now would care to ask or who or what they were. but, though these two are underground, their book is here, all safe and sound; and he who wrote it (yea, and more than a whole hundred years before) he, the trim courtier, old carew, and all the loves he feign'd or knew, have won from aphrodite's eye some show of immortality. 'tis ever thus; by nature's will the gift outlasts the giver still; and love itself lives not so long as doth a lover's feeblest song. but doubly hard is that man's case, for whom and for his earnest rhymes neither his own nor after-times have any work, have any place: who through a hundred years shall find no echoing voice, no answering mind; and, when this tann'd and tawny page has one more century of age, and others buy the book anew, because they care for old carew, not one who reads shall care or know what name was his, who owns it now: but all he wrote and all he did shall be in such oblivion hid as hides the blurr'd and broken stones that cover his forgotten bones. to my books. caroline norton. _from the 'dream and other poems.' ._ silent companions of the lonely hour, friends, who can never alter or forsake, who for inconstant roving have no power, and all neglect, perforce, must calmly take, let me return to you; this turmoil ending which worldly cares have in my spirit wrought, and, o'er your old familiar pages bending, refresh my mind with many a tranquil thought; till, haply meeting there, from time to time, fancies, the audible echo of my own, 't will be like hearing in a foreign clime my native language spoke in friendly tone, and with a sort of welcome i shall dwell on these, my unripe musings, told so well. 'desultory reading.' f. m. p. _from the london 'spectator' of january , ._ o finest essence of delicious rest! to bid for some short space the busy mill of anxious, ever-grinding thought be still; and let the weary brain and throbbing breast be by another's cooling hand caressed. this volume in my hand, i hold a charm which lifts me out of reach of wrong or harm. i sail away from trouble; and most blessed of every blessing, can myself forget: can rise above the instance low and poor into the mighty law that governs yet. this hingèd cover, like a well hung door, shuts out the noises of the jangling day, these fair leaves fan unwelcome thoughts away. the bookworm. thomas parnell. _translated from the latin of theodore beza._ come hither, boy, we'll hunt to-day the bookworm, ravening beast of prey, produc'd by parent earth, at odds, as fame reports it, with the gods. him frantic hunger wildly drives against a thousand authors' lives: through all the fields of wit he flies; dreadful his head with clustering eyes, with horns without, and tusks within, and scales to serve him for a skin. observe him nearly, lest he climb to wound the bards of ancient time, or down the vale of fancy go to tear some modern wretch below. on every corner fix thine eye, or ten to one he slips thee by. see where his teeth a passage eat: we'll rouse him from his deep retreat. but who the shelter's forc'd to give? 'tis sacred virgil, as i live! from leaf to leaf, from song to song he draws the tadpole form along, he mounts the gilded edge before, he's up, he scuds the cover o'er, he turns, he doubles, there he past, and here we have him, caught at last. insatiate brute, whose teeth abuse the sweetest servants of the muse-- nay, never offer to deny, i took thee in the fact to fly. his rose nipt in every page, my poor anacreon mourns thy rage; by thee my ovid wounded lies; by thee my lesbia's sparrow dies; thy rabid teeth have half destroy'd the work of love in biddy floyd; they rent belinda's locks away, and spoil'd the blouzelind of gay. for all, for every single deed, relentless justice bids thee bleed: then fall a victim to the nine myself the priest, my desk the shrine. bring homer, virgil, tasso near, to pile a sacred altar here: hold, boy, thy hand outruns thy wit, you reach'd the plays that dennis writ; you reach'd me philips' rustic strain; pray take your mortal bards again. come, bind the victim,--there he lies, and here between his numerous eyes this venerable dust i lay from manuscripts just swept away. the goblet in my hand i take, for the libation's yet to make: a health to poets! all their days may they have bread, as well as praise; sense may they seek, and less engage in papers fill'd with party rage. but if their riches spoil their vein, ye muses, make them poor again. now bring the weapon, yonder blade with which my tuneful pens are made. i strike the scales that arm thee round, and twice and thrice i print the wound; the sacred altar floats with red, and now he dies, and now he's dead. how like the son of jove i stand, this hydra stretch'd beneath the hand! lay bare the monster's entrails here, and see what dangers threat the year: ye gods! what sonnet on a wench! what lean translations out of french! 'tis plain, this lobe is so unsound, s--prints, before the months go round. but hold, before i close the scene the sacred altar should be clean. o had i shadwell's second bays, or, tate, thy pert and humble lays! (ye pair, forgive me, when i vow i never miss'd your works till now,) i'd tear the leaves to wipe the shrine, that only way you please the nine: but since i chance to want these two, i'll make the songs of durfey do. rent from the corps, on yonder pin, i hang the scales that brac'd it in; i hang my studious morning gown, and write my own inscription down. "this trophy from the python won, this robe, in which the deed was done, these, parnell, glorying in the feat hung on these shelves, the muses seat. here ignorance and hunger found large realms of wit to ravage round; here ignorance and hunger fell two foes in one i sent to hell. ye poets who my labors see come share the triumph all with me! ye critics, born to vex the muse, go mourn the grand ally you lose!" among my books. samuel minturn peck. _from 'cap and bells.' ._ among my books--what rest is there from wasting woes! what balm for care! if ills appall or clouds hang low, and drooping, dim the fleeting show, i revel still in visions rare. at will i breathe the classic air, the wanderings of ulysses share; or see the plume of bayard flow among my books. whatever face the world may wear-- if lillian has no smile to spare, for others let her beauty blow, such favors i can well forego; perchance forget the frowning fair among my books. a ruined library. walter herries pollock. _written for the present collection._ "imperious cæsar dead and turn'd to clay might stop a hole to keep the wind away." here the live thought of buried cæsar's brain has served a lazy slut to lay the train that lights a dunce's fire. here homer's seen all torn or crumpled in the pettish spleen of some spoilt urchin. here a leaf from glanvil is reft to mark a place in 'on the anvil.' here, too, a heavy-blotted shakspere's page holds up an inky mirror to the age; here looking round you're but too sure to see a heart-breaking wreck from the 'via jacobæa;' here some rare pamphlet, long a-missing, lurks in an odd volume of 'lord bacon's works;' here may you find a stillingfleet or blair usurp the binding of a lost voltaire; and here a tattered boyle doth gape ungently upon a damp-disfigured 'life of bentley.' here half a rabelais jostles for position the quarter of a 'spanish inquisition;' here young's 'night thoughts' lie mixed with swinburne's 'ballads' 'mid scraps of works on poisons and on salads; and here a rent and gilt-edged sterne doth lack a ray of sun that falls upon a bulging thackeray; here--but the tale's too sad at length to tell how a book-heaven's been turned to a book-hell. my books. bryan waller procter. _from 'an autobiographical_ (barry cornwall.) _fragment.' ._ all round the room my silent servants wait,-- my friends in every season, bright and dim; angels and seraphim come down and murmur to me, sweet and low, and spirits of the skies all come and go early and late; all from the old world's divine and distant date, from the sublimer few, down to the poet who but yester-eve sang sweet and made us grieve, all come, assembling here in order due. and here i dwell with poesy, my mate, with erato and all her vernal sighs, great clio with her victories elate, or pale urania's deep and starry eyes. o friends, whom chance and change can never harm, whom death the tyrant cannot doom to die, within whose folding soft eternal charm i love to lie, and meditate upon your verse that flows, and fertilizes whereso'er it goes, whether.... to my books on parting with them. _the sale of the famous roscoe library, made necessary by reverses in business,_ william roscoe. _took place in august and september, ._ as one who, destined from his friends to part, regrets his loss, yet hopes again erewhile, to share their converse and enjoy their smile, and tempers as he may affliction's dart,-- thus, loved associates! chiefs of elder art! teachers of wisdom! who could once beguile my tedious hours, and lighten every toil, i now resign you; nor with fainting heart; for pass a few short years, or days, or hours. and happier seasons may their dawn unfold, and all your sacred fellowship restore; when, freed from earth, unlimited its powers, mind shall with mind direct communion hold, and kindred spirits meet to part no more. among my books. francis st. clair-erskine, _from 'sonnets.' ._ earl of rosslyn. alone, 'midst living works of mighty dead, poets and scholars versed in history's lore, with thoughts that reached beyond them and before, i dream, and leave their glorious works unread; their greatness numbs me both in heart and head. i cannot weep with petrarch, and still more i fail when i would delve the depths of yore, and learn old truths of modern lies instead; the shelves frown on me blackly, with a life that ne'er can die, and helpless to begin, i can but own my weakness, and deplore this waste, this barren brain, ah! once so rife with hope and fancy. pardon all my sin, great ghosts that wander on the eternal shore. the library. _one of the excerpts from 'occasional_ john godfrey saxe. _poems' included in his 'complete poems.'_ here, e'en the sturdy democrat may find, nor scorn their rank, the nobles of the mind; while kings may learn, nor blush at being shown, how learning's patents abrogate their own. a goodly company and fair to see; royal plebeians; earls of low degree; beggars whose wealth enriches every clime; princes who scarce can boast a mental dime; crowd here together like the quaint array of jostling neighbors on a market day. homer and milton,--can we call them blind?-- of godlike sight, the vision of the mind; shakspere, who calmly looked creation through, "exhausted worlds, and then imagined new;" plato the sage, so thoughtful and serene, he seems a prophet by his heavenly mien; shrewd socrates, whose philosophic power xantippe proved in many a trying hour; and aristophanes, whose humor run in vain endeavor to be-"cloud" the sun; majestic Æschylus, whose glowing page holds half the grandeur of the athenian stage; pindar, whose odes, replete with heavenly fire, proclaim the master of the grecian lyre; anacreon, famed for many a luscious line devote to venus and the god of wine. i love vast libraries; yet there is a doubt if one be better with them or without,-- unless he use them wisely, and indeed, knows the high art of what and how to read, at learning's fountain it is sweet to drink, but 'tis a nobler privilege to think; and oft from books apart, the thirsting mind may make the nectar which it cannot find, 't is well to borrow from the good and great; 't is wise to learn; 't is godlike to create! in the library. clinton scollard. _from 'with reed and lyre.' ._ from the oriels one by one, slowly fades the setting sun; on the marge of afternoon stands the new-born crescent moon. in the twilight's crimson glow dim the quiet alcoves grow. drowsy-lidded silence smiles on the long deserted aisles; out of every shadowy nook spirit faces seem to look. some with smiling eyes, and some with a sad entreaty dumb; he who shepherded his sheep on the wild sicilian steep, he above whose grave are set sprays of roman violet; poets, sages--all who wrought in the crucible of thought. day by day as seasons glide on the great eternal tide, noiselessly they gather thus in the twilight beauteous, hold communion each with each, closer than our earthly speech, till within the east are born premonitions of the morn! the book-hunter. frank dempster sherman. _from the 'century magazine,' november, ._ a cup of coffee, eggs, and rolls sustain him on his morning strolls: unconscious of the passers-by, he trudges on with downcast eye; he wears a queer old hat and coat, suggestive of a style remote; his manner is preoccupied,-- a shambling gait, from side to side. for him the sleek, bright-windowed shop is all in vain,--he does not stop. his thoughts are fixed on dusty shelves where musty volumes hide themselves,-- rare prints of poetry and prose, and quaintly lettered folios,-- perchance a parchment manuscript, in some forgotten corner slipped, or monk-illumined missal bound in vellum with brass clasps around; these are the pictured things that throng his mind the while he walks along. a dingy street, a cellar dim, with book-lined walls, suffices him. the dust is white upon his sleeves; he turns the yellow, dog-eared leaves with just the same religious look that priests give to the holy book. he does not heed the stifling air if so he find a treasure there. he knows rare books, like precious wines, are hidden where the sun ne'er shines; for him delicious flavors dwell in books as in old muscatel; he finds in features of the type a clew to prove the grape was ripe. and when he leaves this dismal place, behold, a smile lights up his face! upon his cheeks a genial glow,-- within his hand boccaccio, a first edition worn with age, "firenze" on the title-page. the library. robert southey. _written at keswick in ._ my days among the dead are past; around me i behold, where'er these casual eyes are cast, the mighty minds of old; my never-failing friends are they, with whom i converse day by day. with them i take delight in weal, and seek relief in woe; and while i understand and feel how much to them i owe, my cheeks have often been dedew'd with tears of thoughtful gratitude. my thoughts are with the dead, with them i live in long-past years, their virtues love, their faults condemn; partake their hopes and fears, and from their lessons seek and find instruction with an humble mind. my hopes are with the dead, anon my place with them shall be, and i with them shall travel on through all futurity; yet leaving here a name, i trust, that will not perish in the dust. picture-books in winter. robert louis stevenson. _from 'a child's garden of verses.' ._ summer fading, winter comes-- frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, window robins, winter rooks, and the picture story-books. water now is turned to stone nurse and i can walk upon; still we find the flowing brooks and the picture story-books. all the pretty things put by, wait upon the children's eye sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, in the picture story-books. we may see how all things are, seas and cities, near and far, and the flying fairies' looks, in the picture story-books. how am i to sing your praise, happy chimney-corner days, sitting safe in nursery nooks, reading picture story-books? companions. a french writer (whom i love well) speaks of three kinds of companions, men, women, and books. sir john davys. richard henry stoddard. _from the 'atlantic monthly,' june, ._ we have companions, comrade mine: jolly good fellows, tried and true, are filling their cups with the rhenish wine, and pledging each other, as i do you. never a man in all the land but has, in his hour of need, a friend, who stretches to him a helping hand and stands by him to the bitter end. if not before, there is comfort then, in the strong companionship of men. but better than that, old friend of mine, is the love of woman, the life of life, whether in maiden's eyes it shine, or melts in the tender kiss of wife; a heart contented to feel, not know, that finds in the other its sole delight; white hands that are loath to let us go, the tenderness that is more than might! on earth below, in heaven above, is there anything better than woman's love? i do not say so, companion mine, for what, without it, would i be here? it lightens my troubles, like this good wine, and, if i must weep, sheds tear for tear! but books, old friends that are always new, of all good things that we know are best; they never forsake us, as others do, and never disturb our inward rest. here is truth in a world of lies, and all that in man is great and wise! better than men and women, friend, that are dust, though dear in our joy and pain, are the books their cunning hands have penned, for they depart, but the books remain; through these they speak to us what was best in the loving heart and the noble mind: all their royal souls possessed belongs forever to all mankind! when others fail him, the wise man looks to the sure companionship of books. the book of life. _a bibliographical melody, printed in_ richard thomson. _ at the press of john johnson, as a gift to the members of the roxburghe club._ that life is a comedy oft hath been shown, by all who mortality's changes have known; but more like a volume its actions appear, where each day is a page and each chapter a year. 'tis a manuscript time shall full surely unfold, though with black-letter shaded, or shining with gold; the initial, like youth, glitters bright on its page, but its text is as dark--as the gloom of old age. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons imprest. though the title stands first it can little declare the contents which the pages ensuing shall bear; as little the first day of life can explain the succeeding events which shall glide in its train, the book follows next, and, delighted, we trace an elzevir's beauty, a guttemberg's grace; thus on pleasure we gaze with as raptured an eye, till, cut off like a volume imperfect, we die! then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons imprest. yet e'en thus imperfect, complete, or defaced, the skill of the printer is still to be traced; and though death bend us early in life to his will, the wise hand of our author is visible still. like the colophon lines is the epitaph's lay, which tells of what age and what nation our day, and, like the device of the printer, we bear the form of the founder, whose image we wear. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons imprest. the work thus completed its boards shall inclose, till a binding more bright and more beauteous it shows; and who can deny, when life's vision hath past, that the dark boards of death shall surround us at last. yet our volume illumed with fresh splendors shall rise, to be gazed at by angels, and read to the skies, reviewed by its author, revised by his pen, in a fair new edition to flourish again. then life's counsels of wisdom engrave on thy breast, and deep on thine heart be her lessons imprest. on certain books. charles tennyson turner. _from 'sonnets.' ._ faith and fixt hope these pages may peruse, and still be faith and hope; but, o ye winds! blow them far off from all unstable minds, and foolish grasping hands of youth! ye dews of heaven! be pleased to rot them where they fall, lest loitering boys their fancies should abuse, and they get harm by chance, that cannot choose; so be they stain'd and sodden, each and all! and if, perforce, on dry and gusty days, upon the breeze some truant leaf should rise, brittle with many weathers, to the skies, or flit and dodge about the public ways-- man's choral shout, or organ's peal of praise shall shake it into dust, like older lies. to his books. henry vaughan. _from 'silex scintillans: sacred poems and pious ejaculations.' ._ bright books: perspectives on our weak sights, the clear projections of discerning lights, burning in shining thoughts, man's posthume day, the track of fled souls in their milkie way, the dead alive and busy, the still voice of enlarged spirits, kind heaven's white decoys! who lives with you lives like those knowing flowers which in commerce with light spend all their hours; which shut to clouds, and shadows nicely shun, but with glad haste unveil to kiss the sun. beneath you all is dark and a dead night, which whoso lives in wants both health and sight. by sucking you, the wise, like bees, do grow healing and rich, though this they do most slow, because most choicely; for as great a store have we of books as bees, of herbs, or more; and the great task to try, then know, the good, to discern weeds, and judge of wholesome food, is a rare scant performance. for man dies oft ere 'tis done, while the bee feeds and flies. but you were all choice flowers; all set and drest by old sage florists, who well knew the best; and i amidst you all am turned to weed! not wanting knowledge, but for want of heed. then thank thyself, wild fool, that would'st not be content to know what was too much for thee! literature and nature. samuel waddington. _written for the present collection._ 'mid cambrian heights around dolgelly vale, what time we scaled great cader's rugged pile, or loitered idly where still meadows smile beside the mawddach-stream, or far cynfael-- nor tome, nor rhythmic page, nor pastoral tale, our summer-sated senses would beguile; or lull our ears to melody, the while the voiceful rill ran lilting down the dale. in london town once more--behold, once more the old delight returns! 'mid heights how vast, in milton's verse, through what dim paths we wind; how keats's canvas glows, and wordsworth's lore, as tarn or torrent pure, by none surpass'd, sheds light and love--unfathomed, undefined. the library. john greenleaf whittier. _sung at the opening of the library at haverhill, mass._ "let there be light!" god spake of old, and over chaos dark and cold, and through the dead and formless frame of nature, life and order came. faint was the light at first that shone on giant fern and mastodon, on half-formed plant and beast of prey, and man as rude and wild as they. age after age, like waves o'erran the earth, uplifting brute and man; and mind, at length, in symbols dark its meanings traced on stone and bark. on leaf of palm, on sedge-wrought roll, on plastic clay and leathern scroll, man wrote his thoughts; the ages passed, and lo! the press was found at last! then dead souls woke; the thoughts of men whose bones were dust revived again; the cloister's silence found a tongue, old prophets spake, old poets sung. and here, to-day, the dead look down, the kings of mind again we crown; we hear the voices lost so long, the sage's word, the sibyl's song. here greek and roman find themselves alive along these crowded shelves; and shakspere treads again his stage, and chaucer paints anew his age. as if some pantheon's marbles broke their stony trance, and lived and spoke, life thrills along the alcoved hall, the lords of thought awake our call. the country squire. tomas yriarte. _an anonymous translation of one of the 'literary fables.'_ a country squire, of greater wealth than wit (for fools are often blessed with fortune's smile), had built a splendid house, and furnished it in splendid style. "one thing is wanting," said a friend; "for, though the rooms are fine, the furniture profuse, you lack a library, dear sir, for show, if not for use." "'tis true; but 'zounds!" replied the squire with glee, "the lumber-room in yonder northern wing (i wonder i ne'er thought of it) will be the very thing. "i'll have it fitted up without delay with shelves and presses of the newest mode and rarest wood, befitting every way a squire's abode." "and when the whole is ready, i'll dispatch my coachman--a most knowing fellow--down to buy me, by admeasurement, a batch of books in town." but ere the library was half supplied with all its pomps of cabinet and shelf, the booby squire repented him, and cried unto himself:-- "this room is much more roomy than i thought; ten thousand volumes hardly would suffice to fill it, and would cost, however bought, a plaguy price." "now as i only want them for their looks, it might, on second thoughts, be just as good, and cost me next to nothing, if the books were made of wood." "it shall be so, i'll give the shaven deal a coat of paint--a colorable dress, to look like calf or vellum, and conceal its nakedness." "and, gilt and lettered with the author's name, whatever is most excellent and rare shall be, or seem to be ('tis all the same), assembled there." the work was done; the simulated hoards of wit and wisdom round the chamber stood, in binding some; and some, of course, in _boards_, where all were wood. from bulky folios down to slender twelves the choicest tomes, in many an even row displayed their lettered backs upon the shelves, a goodly show. with such a stock as seemingly surpassed the best collection ever formed in spain, what wonder if the owner grew at last supremely vain? what wonder, as he paced from shelf to shelf, and conned their titles, that the squire began, despite his ignorance, to think himself a learned man? _let every amateur, who merely looks to backs and binding, take the hint, and sell his costly library--for painted books would serve as well._ old books. _from the appendix of 'how to read_ anon. _a book in the best way.' new york, n. d._ i must confess i love old books! the dearest, too, perhaps most dearly; thick, clumpy tomes, of antique looks, in pigskin covers fashioned queerly. clasped, chained, or thonged, stamped quaintly too, with figures wondrous strange, or holy men and women, and cherubs, few might well from owls distinguish duly. i love black-letter books that saw the light of day at least three hundred long years ago; and look with awe on works that live, so often plundered. i love the sacred dust the more it clings to ancient lore, enshrining thoughts of the dead, renowned of yore, embalmed in books, for age declining. fit solace, food, and friends more sure to have around one, always handy, when sinking spirits find no cure in news, election brawls, or brandy. in these old books, more soothing far than balm of gilead or nepenthè, i seek an antidote for care-- of which most men indeed have plenty. "five hundred times at least," i've said-- my wife assures me--"i would never buy more old books;" yet lists are made, and shelves are lumbered more than ever. ah! that our wives could only see how well the money is invested in these old books, which seem to be by them, alas! so much detested. there's nothing hath enduring youth, eternal newness, strength unfailing, except old books, old friends, old truth, that's ever battling--still prevailing. 't is better in the past to live than grovel in the present vilely, in clubs, and cliques, where placemen hive, and faction hums, and dolts rank highly. to be enlightened, counselled, led, by master minds of former ages, come to old books--consult the dead-- commune with silent saints and sages. leave me, ye gods! to my old books-- polemics yield to sects that wrangle-- vile "parish politics" to folks who love to squabble, scheme, and jangle. dearly beloved old pigskin tomes! of dingy hue--old bookish darlings! oh, cluster ever round my rooms, and banish strifes, disputes, and snarlings. =appendix= ________________ the library by george crabbe the library. _in want and danger, the unknown poet sent this poem to edmund_ george crabbe. _burke, who saw its merit, befriended its author, and procured its publication._ when the sad soul, by care and grief oppressed, looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest, when every object that appears in view partakes her gloom and seems dejected too; where shall affliction from itself retire? where fade away and placidly expire? alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain; care blasts the honors of the flowery plain; care veils in clouds the sun's meridian beam, sighs through the grove, and murmurs in the stream; for when the soul is laboring in despair, in vain the body breathes a purer air: no storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas-- he dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze; on the smooth mirror of the deep resides reflected woe, and o'er unruffled tides the ghost of every former danger glides. thus, in the calms of life, we only see a steadier image of our misery; but lively gales and gently clouded skies disperse the sad reflections as they rise; and busy thoughts and little cares avail to ease the mind, when rest and reason fail. when the dull thought, by no designs employed, dwells on the past, or suffered or enjoyed, we bleed anew in every former grief, and joys departed furnish no relief. not hope herself, with all her flattering art, can cure this stubborn sickness of the heart: the soul disdains each comfort she prepares, and anxious searches for congenial cares; those lenient cares, which, with our own combined, by mixed sensations ease th' afflicted mind, and steal our grief away, and leave their own behind; a lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure without regret, nor e'en demand a cure. but what strange art, what magic can dispose the troubled mind to change its native woes? or lead us, willing from ourselves, to see others more wretched, more undone than we? this books can do;--nor this alone; they give new views to life, and teach us how to live; they soothe the grieved, the stubborn they chastise, fools they admonish and confirm the wise: their aid they yield to all: they never shun the man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone: unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud, they fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd; nor tell to various people various things, but show to subjects what they show to kings. come, child of care! to make thy soul serene, approach the treasures of this tranquil scene; survey the dome, and, as the doors unfold, the soul's best cure, in all her cares behold! where mental wealth the poor in thought may find, and mental physic the diseased in mind; see here the balms that passion's wounds assuage; see coolers here, that damp the fire of rage; here alteratives, by slow degrees control the chronic habits of the sickly soul; and round the heart, and o'er the aching head, mild opiates here their sober influence shed. now bid thy soul man's busy scenes exclude, and view composed this silent multitude:-- silent they are--but though deprived of sound, here all the living languages abound; here all that live no more; preserved they lie, in tombs that open to the curious eye. blest be the gracious power, who taught mankind to stamp a lasting image of the mind! beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, their mutual feelings, in the opening spring; but man alone has skill and power to send the heart's warm dictates to the distant friend; 'tis his alone to please, instruct, advise ages remote, and nations yet to rise. in sweet repose, when labor's children sleep, when joy forgets to smile and care to weep, when passion slumbers in the lover's breast, and fear and guilt partake the balm of rest, why then denies the studious man to share man's common good, who feels his common care? because the hope is his that bids him fly night's soft repose, and sleep's mild power defy, that after-ages may repeat his praise, and fame's fair meed be his, for length of days. delightful prospect! when we leave behind a worthy offspring of the fruitful mind! which, born and nursed through many an anxious day, shall all our labor, all our care repay. yet all are not these births of noble kind, not all the children of a vigorous mind; but where the wisest should alone preside, the weak would rule us, and the blind would guide; nay, man's best efforts taste of man, and show the poor and troubled source from which they flow; where most he triumphs we his wants perceive, and for his weakness in his wisdom grieve. but though imperfect all; yet wisdom loves this seat serene, and virtue's self approves:-- here come the grieved, a change of thought to find; the curious here to feed a craving mind; here the devout their peaceful temple choose; and here the poet meets his favoring muse. with awe, around these silent walks i tread; these are the lasting mansions of the dead:-- "the dead!" methinks a thousand tongues reply; "these are the tombs of such as cannot die! crowned with eternal fame, they sit sublime, and laugh at all the little strife of time. hail, then, immortals! ye who shine above, each, in his sphere, the literary jove; and ye, the common people of these skies, a humbler crowd of nameless deities; whether 't is yours to lead the willing mind through history's mazes, and the turnings find; or, whether led by science, ye retire, lost and bewildered in the vast desire, whether the muse invites you to her bowers, and crowns your placid brows with living flowers! or godlike wisdom teaches you to show the noblest road to happiness below; or men and manners prompt the easy page to mark the flying follies of the age; whatever good ye boast, that good impart; inform the head and rectify the heart. lo, all in silence, all in order stand, and mighty folios, first a lordly band; then quartos their well-ordered ranks maintain, and light octavos fill a spacious plain: see yonder, ranged in more frequented rows, a humbler band of duodecimos; while undistinguish'd trifles swell the scene, the last new play and frittered magazine. thus 't is in life, where first the proud, the great, in leagued assembly keep their cumbrous state: heavy and huge, they fill the world with dread, are much admired, and are but little read: the commons next, a middle rank, are found; professions fruitful pour their offspring round; reasoners and wits are next their place allowed, and last, of vulgar tribes a countless crowd. first, let us view the form, the size, the dress: for these the manners, nay the mind, express: that weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid; those ample clasps of solid metal made; the close-pressed leaves, unclosed for many an age; the dull red edging of the well-filled page; on the broad back the stubborn ridges rolled, where yet the title stands in tarnished gold; these all a sage and labored work proclaim, a painful candidate for lasting fame: no idle wit, no trifling verse can lurk in the deep bosom of that weighty work; no playful thoughts degrade the solemn style, nor one light sentence claims a transient smile. hence, in these times, untouched the pages lie, and slumber out their immortality: they _had_ their day, when, after all his toil, his morning study, and his midnight oil, at length an author's one great work appeared, by patient hope, and length of days endeared: expecting nations haled it from the press; poetic friends prefixed each kind address; princes and kings received the pond'rous gift, and ladies read the work they could not lift. fashion, though folly's child, and guide of fools, rules e'en the wisest, and in learning rules; from crowds and courts to wisdom's seat she goes, and reigns triumphant o'er her mother's foes. for lo! these favorites of the ancient mode lie all neglected like the birthday ode. ah! needless now this weight of massy chain, safe in themselves, the once-loved works remain; no readers now invade their still retreat, none try to steal them from their parent seat; like ancient beauties, they may now discard chains, bolts, and locks, and lie without a guard. our patient fathers trifling themes laid by, and rolled, o'er labored works, th' attentive eye: page after page the much enduring men explored the deeps and shallows of the pen: till, every former note and comment known, they marked the spacious margin with their own; minute corrections proved their studious care; the little index, pointing, told us where; and many an emendation showed the age looked far beyond the rubric title-page. our nicer palates lighter labors seek, cloyed with a folio-_number_ once a week; bibles, with cuts and comments, thus go down: e'en light voltaire is _numbered_ through the town: thus physic flies abroad, and thus the law, from men of study, and from men of straw; abstracts, abridgments, please the fickle times, pamphlets and plays, and politics and rhymes: but though to write be now a task of ease, the task is hard by manly arts to please, when all our weakness is exposed to view, and half our judges are our rivals too. amid these works, on which the eager eye delights to fix, or glides reluctant by, when all combined, their decent pomp display, where shall we first our early offering pay?-- to thee, divinity! to thee, the light and guide of mortals, through their mental night; by whom we learn our hopes and fears to guide; to bear with pain, and to contend with pride; when grieved, to pray; when injured, to forgive; and with the world in charity to live. not truths like these inspired that numerous race, whose pious labors fill this ample space; but questions nice, where doubt on doubt arose, awaked to war the long-contending foes. for dubious meanings, learned polemics strove, and wars on faith prevented works of love; the brands of discord far around were hurled, and holy wrath inflamed a sinful world:-- dull though impatient, peevish though devout, with wit, disgusting and despised without; saints in design, in execution men, peace in their looks, and vengeance in their pen. methinks i see, and sicken at the sight, spirits of spleen from yonder pile alight; spirits who prompted every damning page, with pontiff pride, and still increasing rage: lo! how they stretch their gloomy wings around, and lash with furious strokes the trembling ground! they pray, they fight, they murder, and they weep, wolves in their vengeance, in their manners sheep; too well they act the prophet's fatal part, denouncing evil with a zealous heart; and each, like jonah, is displeased if god repent his anger, or withold his rod. but here the dormant fury rests unsought, and zeal sleeps soundly by the foes she fought; here all the rage of controversy ends, and rival zealots rest like bosom friends: an athanasian here, in deep repose, sleeps with the fiercest of his arian foes; socinians here with calvinists abide, and thin partitions angry chiefs divide; here wily jesuits simple quakers meet, and bellarmine has rest at luther's feet. great authors, for the church's glory fired, are for the church's peace to rest retired; and close beside, a mystic, maudlin race, lie "crumbs of comfort for the babes of grace." against her foes religion well defends her sacred truths, but often fears her friends; if learned, their pride, if weak, their zeal she dreads, and their hearts' weakness, who have soundest heads. but most she fears the controversial pen, the holy strife of disputatious men; who the blest gospel's peaceful page explore, only to fight against its precepts more. near to these seats behold yon slender frames, all closely filled and marked with modern names; where no fair science ever shows her face, few sparks of genius, and no spark of grace; there sceptics rest, a still increasing throng, and stretch their widening wings ten thousand strong; some in close fight their dubious claims maintain; some skirmish lightly, fly, and fight again; coldly profane, and impiously gay, their end the same, though various in their way. when first religion came to bless the land, her friends were then a firm believing band; to doubt was then to plunge in guilt extreme, and all was gospel that a monk could dream; insulted reason fled the grov'lling soul, for fear to guide and visions to control: but now, when reason has assumed her throne, she, in her turn demands to reign alone; rejecting all that lies beyond her view, and, being judge, will be a witness too: insulted faith then leaves the doubtful mind, to seek for truth, without a power to find: ah! when will both in friendly beams unite, and pour on erring man resistless light! next to the seats, well stored with works divine, an ample space, philosophy! is thine; our reason's guide, by whose assisting light we trace the moral bounds of wrong and right; our guide through nature, from the sterile clay, to the bright orbs of yon celestial way! 't is thine, the great, the golden chain to trace, which runs through all, connecting race with race save where those puzzling, stubborn links remain, which thy inferior light pursues in vain:-- how vice and virtue in the soul contend; how widely differ, yet how nearly blend; what various passions war on either part, and now confirm, now melt the yielding heart: how fancy loves around the world to stray, while judgment slowly picks his sober way; the stores of memory and the flights sublime of genius, bound by neither space nor time;-- all these divine philosophy explores, till, lost in awe, she wonders and adores. from these, descending to the earth, she turns, and matter, in its various forms, discerns; she parts the beamy light with skill profound, metes the thin air, and weighs the flying sound; 't is hers the lightning from the clouds to call, and teach the fiery mischief where to fall. yet more her volumes teach--on these we look abstracts drawn from nature's larger book; here, first described, the torpid earth appears, and next, the vegetable robe it wears; where flowery tribes in valleys, fields, and groves, nurse the still flame, and feed the silent loves; loves where no grief, nor joy, nor bliss, nor pain, warm the glad heart or vex the laboring brain; but as the green blood moves along the blade, the bed of flora on the branch is made; where, without passion, love instinctive lives, and gives new life, unconscious that it gives. advancing still in nature's maze, we trace, in dens and burning plains, her savage race with those tame tribes who on their lord attend, and find in man a master and a friend; man crowns the scene, a world of wonders new, a moral world, that well demands our view. this world is here; for, of more lofty kind, these neighboring volumes reason on the mind; they paint the state of man ere yet endued with knowledge;--man, poor, ignorant, and rude; then, as his state improves, their pages swell, and all its cares, and all its comforts tell: here we behold how inexperience buys, at little price, the wisdom of the wise; without the troubles of an active state, without the cares and dangers of the great, without the miseries of the poor, we know what wisdom, wealth, and poverty bestow; we see how reason calms the raging mind, and how contending passions urge mankind: some, won by virtue, glow with sacred fire; some, lured by vice, indulge the low desire; whilst others, won by either, now pursue the guilty chase, now keep the good in view; forever wretched, with themselves at strife, they lead a puzzled, vexed, uncertain life; for transient vice bequeaths a lingering pain, which transient virtue seeks to cure in vain. whilst thus engaged, high views enlarge the soul, new interest draws, new principles control: nor thus the soul alone resigns her grief, but here the tortured body finds relief; for see where yonder sage arachnè shapes her subtle gin, that not a fly escapes! there physic fills the space, and far around, pile above pile her learned works abound: glorious their aim--to ease the laboring heart; to war with death, and stop his flying dart; to trace the source whence the fierce contest grew; and life's short lease on easier terms renew; to calm the frenzy of the burning brain; to heal the tortures of imploring pain; or, when more powerful ills all efforts brave, to ease the victim no device can save, and smooth the stormy passage to the grave. but man, who knows no good unmixed and pure, oft finds a poison where he sought a cure; for grave deceivers lodge their labors here, and cloud the science they pretend to clear; scourges for sin, the solemn tribe are sent; like fire and storms, they call us to repent; but storms subside, and fires forget to rage. _these_ are eternal scourges of the age: 't is not enough that each terrific hand spreads desolation round a guilty land; but trained to ill, and hardened by its crimes, their pen relentless kills through future times, say, ye, who search these records of the dead-- who read huge works, to boast what ye have read, can all the real knowledge ye possess, or those--if such there are--who more than guess, atone for each impostor's wild mistakes, and mend the blunders pride or folly makes? what thought so wild, what airy dream so light, that will not prompt a theorist to write? what art so prevalent, what proofs so strong, that will convince him his attempt is wrong? one in the solids finds each lurking ill, nor grants the passive fluids power to kill; a learned friend some subtler reason brings, absolves the channels, but condemns their spring; the subtile nerves, that shun the doctor's eye, escape no more his subtler theory; the vital heat, that warms the laboring heart, lends a fair system to these sons of art; the vital air, a pure and subtile stream, serves a foundation for an airy scheme, assists the doctor and supports his dream. some have their favorite ills, and each disease is but a younger branch that kills from these; one to the gout contracts all human pain; he views it raging in the frantic brain; finds it in fevers all his efforts mar, and sees it lurking in the cold catarrh; bilious by some, by others nervous seen, rage the fantastic demons of the spleen; and every symptom of the strange disease with every system of the sage agrees. ye frigid tribe, on whom i wasted long the tedious hours, and ne'er indulged in song; ye first seducers of my easy heart, who promised knowledge ye could not impart; ye dull deluders, truth's destructive foes; ye sons of fiction, clad in stupid prose; ye treacherous leaders, who, yourselves in doubt, light up false fires, and send us far about;-- still may yon spider round your pages spin, subtile and slow, her emblematic gin! buried in dust and lost in silence, dwell, most potent, grave, and reverend friends--farewell! near these, and where the setting sun displays, through the dim window, his departing rays, and gilds yon columns, there, on either side, the huge abridgments of the law abide; fruitful as vice, the dread correctors stand, and spread their guardian terrors round the land; yet, as the best that human care can do is mixed with error, oft with evil too, skilled in deceit, and practised to evade, knaves stand secure, for whom these laws were made, and justice vainly each expedient tries, while art eludes it, or while power defies. "ah! happy age," the youthful poet sings, "when the free nations knew not laws nor kings, when all were blest to share a common store, and none were proud of wealth, for none were poor, no wars nor tumults vexed each still domain, no thirst of empire, no desire of gain; no proud great man, nor one who would be great, drove modest merit from its proper state; nor into distant climes would avarice roam, to fetch delights for luxury at home: bound by no ties which kept the soul in awe, they dwelt at liberty, and love was law!" "mistaken youth! each nation first was rude, each man a cheerless son of solitude, to whom no joys of social life were known, none felt a care that was not all his own; or in some languid clime his abject soul bowed to a little tyrant's stern control; a slave, with slaves his monarch's throne he raised, and in rude song his ruder idol praised; the meaner cares of life were all he knew; bounded his pleasures, and his wishes few; but when by slow degrees the arts arose, and science wakened from her long repose; when commerce, rising from the bed of ease, ran round the land, and pointed to the seas; when emulation, born with jealous eye, and avarice, lent their spurs to industry; then one by one the numerous laws were made, those to control, and these to succor trade; to curb the insolence of rude command, to snatch the victim from the usurer's hand; to awe the bold, to yield the wronged redress, and feed the poor with luxury's excess." like some vast flood, unbounded, fierce, and strong, his nature leads ungoverned man along; like mighty bulwarks made to stem that tide, the laws are formed and placed on every side; whene'er it breaks the bounds by these decreed, new statutes rise, and stronger laws succeed; more and more gentle grows the dying stream, more and more strong the rising bulwarks seem; till, like a miner working sure and slow, luxury creeps on, and ruins all below; the basis sinks, the ample piles decay; the stately fabric shakes and falls away; primeval want and ignorance come on, but freedom, that exalts the savage state, is gone. next history ranks;--there full in front she lies, and every nation her dread tale supplies; yet history has her doubts, and every age with sceptic queries marks the passing page; records of old nor later date are clear, too distant those, and these are placed too near; there time conceals the objects from our view, here our own passions and a writer's too: yet, in these volumes, see how states arose! guarded by virtue from surrounding foes; their virtue lost, and of their triumphs vain, lo! how they sunk to slavery again! satiate with power, of fame and wealth possessed, a nation grows too glorious to be blest; conspicuous made, she stands the mark of all, and foes join foes to triumph in her fall. thus speaks the page that paints ambition's race, the monarch's pride, his glory, his disgrace; the headlong course that maddening heroes run, how soon triumphant, and how soon undone; how slaves, turned tyrants, offer crowns to sale, and each fallen nation's melancholy tale. lo! where of late the book of martyrs stood, old pious tracts, and bibles bound in wood; there, such the taste of our degenerate age, stand the profane delusions of the stage: yet virtue owns the tragic muse a friend, fable her means, morality her end; for this she rules all passions in their turns, and now the bosom bleeds, and now it burns; pity with weeping eye surveys her bowl, her anger swells, her terror chills the soul; she makes the vile to virtue yield applause, and own her sceptre while they break her laws; for vice in others is abhorred of all, and villains triumph when the worthless fall. not thus her sister comedy prevails, who shoots at folly, for her arrow fails; folly, by dulness armed, eludes the wound, and harmless sees the feathered shafts rebound; unhurt she stands, applauds the archer's skill, laughs at her malice, and is folly still. yet well the muse portrays, in fancied scenes, what pride will stoop to, what profession means; how formal fools the farce of state applaud; how caution watches at the lips of fraud; the wordy variance of domestic life; the tyrant husband, the retorting wife; the snares for innocence, the lie of trade, and the smooth tongue's habitual masquerade. with her the virtues to obtain a place, each gentle passion, each becoming grace; the social joy in life's securer road, its easy pleasure, its substantial good; the happy thought that conscious virtue gives, and all that ought to live, and all that lives. but who are these? methinks a noble mien and awful grandeur in their form are seen, now in disgrace: what though by time is spread polluting dust o'er every reverend head; what though beneath yon gilded tribe they lie, and dull observers pass insulting by: forbid it shame, forbid it decent awe, what seems so grave, should no attention draw! come, let us then with reverend step advance, and greet--the ancient worthies of romance. hence, ye profane! i feel a former dread, a thousand visions float around my head: hark! hollow blasts through empty courts resound, and shadowy forms with staring eyes stalk round; see! moats and bridges, walls and castles rise, ghosts, fairies, demons, dance before our eyes; lo! magic verse inscribed on golden gate; and bloody hand that beckons on to fate:-- "and who art thou, thou little page, unfold? say, doth thy lord my claribel withhold? go tell him straight, sir knight, thou must resign the captive queen;--for claribel is mine." away he flies; and now for bloody deeds, black suits of armor, masks, and foaming steeds; the giant falls; his recreant throat i seize, and from his corselet take the massy keys:-- dukes, lords, and knights in long procession move, released from bondage with my virgin love:-- she comes! she comes! in all the charms of youth, unequalled love, and unsuspected truth! ah! happy he who thus, in magic themes, o'er worlds bewitched, in early rapture dreams, where wild enchantment waves her potent wand, and fancy's beauties fill her fairy land; where doubtful objects strange desires excite, and fear and ignorance afford delight. but lost, for ever lost, to me these joys, which reason scatters, and which time destroys; too dearly bought: maturer judgment calls my busied mind from tales and madrigals; my doughty giants all are slain or fled and all my knights--blue, green, and yellow--dead! no more the midnight fairy tribe i view, all in the merry moonshine tippling dew; e'en the last lingering fiction of the brain, the churchyard ghost is now at rest again; and all these wayward wanderings of my youth fly reason's power, and shun the light of truth. with fiction then does real joy reside, and is our reason the delusive guide? is it then right to dream the sirens sing? or mount enraptured on the dragon's wing? no; 't is the infant mind, to care unknown, that makes th' imagined paradise its own; soon as reflections in the bosom rise, light slumbers vanish from the clouded eyes: the tear and smile, that once together rose, are then divorced; the head and heart are foes: enchantment bows to wisdom's serious plan, and pain and prudence make and mar the man. while thus, of power and fancied empire vain, with various thoughts my mind i entertain; while books, my slaves, with tyrant hand i seize, pleased with the pride that will not let them please, sudden i find terrific thoughts arise, and sympathetic sorrow fills my eyes; for, lo! while yet my heart admits the wound, i see the critic army ranged around. foes to our race! if ever ye have known a father's fears for offspring of your own; if ever, smiling o'er a lucky line, ye thought the sudden sentiment divine, then paused and doubted, and then, tired of doubt, with rage as sudden dashed the stanza out;-- if, after fearing much and pausing long, ye ventured on the world your labored song, and from the crusty critics of those days implored the feeble tribute of their praise; remember now the fears that moved you then, and, spite of truth, let mercy guide your pen. what vent'rous race are ours! what mighty foes lie waiting all around them to oppose! what treacherous friends betray them to the fight! what dangers threaten them:--yet still they write: a hapless tribe! to every evil born, whom villains hate, and fools affect to scorn: strangers they come, amid a world of woe, and taste the largest portion ere they go. pensive i spoke, and cast mine eyes around; the roof, methought, returned a solemn sound; each column seemed to shake, and clouds, like smoke, from dusty piles and ancient volumes broke; gathering above, like mists condensed they seem, exhaled in summer from the rushy stream; like flowing robes they now appear, and twine round the large members of a form divine; his silver beard, that swept his aged breast, his piercing eye, that inward light expressed, were seen--but clouds and darkness veiled the rest. fear chilled my heart: to one of mortal race, how awful seemed the genius of the place! so in cimmerian shores, ulysses saw his parent-shade, and shrunk in pious awe; like him i stood, and wrapped in thought profound, when from the pitying power broke forth a solemn sound:-- "care lives with all; no rules, no precepts save the wise from woe, no fortitude the brave; grief is to man as certain as the grave: tempests and storms in life's whole progress rise, and hope shines dimly through o'erclouded skies. some drops of comfort on the favored fall, but showers of sorrow are the lot of _all_: partial to talents, then, shall heaven withdraw th' afflicting rod, or break the general law? shall he who soars, inspired by loftier views, life's little cares and little pains refuse? shall he not rather feel a double share of mortal woe, when doubly armed to bear? "hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind on the precarious mercy of mankind; who hopes for wild and visionary things, and mounts o'er unknown seas with vent'rous wings; but as, of various evils that befall the human race, some portion goes to all; to him perhaps the milder lot's assigned who feels his consolation in his mind. and, locked within his bosom, bears about a mental charm for every care without. e'en in the pangs of each domestic grief, or health or vigorous hope affords relief; and every wound the tortured bosom feels, or virtue bears, or some preserver heals; some generous friend of ample power possessed; some feeling heart, that bleeds for the distressed; some breast that glows with virtues all divine; some noble rutland, misery's friend and thine. "nor say, the muse's song, the poet's pen, merit the scorn they meet from little men. with cautious freedom if the numbers flow, not wildly high, nor pitifully low; if vice alone their honest aims oppose, why so ashamed their friends, so loud their foes? happy for men in every age and clime, if all the sons of vision dealt in rhyme. go on, then, son of vision! still pursue thy airy dreams; the world is dreaming too. ambition's lofty views, the pomp of state, the pride of wealth, the splendor of the great, stripped of their mask, their cares and troubles known, are visions far less happy than thy own: go on! and, while the sons of care complain, be wisely gay and innocently vain; while serious souls are by their fears undone, blow sportive bladders in the beamy sun, and call them worlds! and bid the greatest show more radiant colors in their worlds below: then, as they break, the slaves of care reprove, and tell them, such are all the toys they love. [illustration] =a final word.= _the collector to his library._ _brown books of mine, who never yet have caused me anguish or regret,-- save when some fiend in human shape has set your tender sides agape, or soiled with some unmanly smear the whiteness of your page sincere, or scored you with some phrase inane, the bantling of his idle brain,-- i love you: and because must end this commerce between friend and friend, i do beseech each kindly fate-- to each and all i supplicate-- that you whom i have loved so long may not be vended "for a song,"-- that you, my dear desire and care, may 'scape the common thoroughfare, the dust, the eating rain, and all the shame and squalor of the stall. rather i trust your lot may touch some croesus--if there should be such-- to buy you, and that you may so from croesus unto croesus go till that inevitable day when comes your moment of decay._ _this, more than other good, i pray._ austin dobson. [illustration] book repair and restoration _only a thousand copies of this book are printed and type distributed._ [illustration: inlaid levant binding] book repair and restoration a manual of practical suggestions for bibliophiles _including some translated selections_ from essai sur l'art de restaurer les estampes et les livres, par a. bonnardot, paris by mitchell s. buck author of "syrinx," "ephemera," "the songs of phryne," translator of "lucian's dialogues of the hetaerai," etc. philadelphia nicholas l. brown mcmxviii copyright, by nicholas l. brown _printed july _ _foreword_ _the following chapters contain suggestions partly gathered from the experience of others and partly evolved for myself in caring for my own books. although many "books about books" have already been written, there is still, i think, a place for this one. i have designed it especially for the bibliophile who enjoys "fussing" over his books and who receives, in seeing them in good condition and repair through his own efforts, an echo of the pleasure he receives from reading them._ _in translating from bonnardot, i have taken the liberty of abridging or paraphrasing, at times, the chapters which i have included here, not only to confine the subjects a little more closely but also to present his essential suggestions as concisely as possible. his book, copies of which are very scarce, was first issued in an edition of four hundred copies in and re-issued, with revisions, in . it has not since been reprinted nor, so far as i have been able to learn, has it been translated into english, either wholly or in part._ contents foreword: page _chapter i_ general restoration: page _chapter ii_ removing stains: page _chapter iii_ rebacking: page _chapter iv_ repairing old binding: page _chapter v_ rebinding: page _chapter vi_ the book shelves: page _chapter vii_ book buying: page _chapter viii_ the greek and latin classics: page index: page list of illustrations inlaid levant binding: _frontispiece_ re-lining back: page vellum bindings: page original sheep binding ( ) rebacked: page cutting for rebacking: page cutting for rebacking: page loosening leather for rebacking: page setting new back: page binding head-cap: page folder: page iron: page modern levant binding: page solander slip-case: page leather slip-covers: page slip-cover: page kelmscott press book: page black letter virgil: page chapter i _general restoration_ to consider first a few simple processes of ordinary restoration, let us assume that a rare book in its original cloth or boards, in a more or less damaged condition but not to the point of necessitating rebinding, has just been received. the first operation required is to carefully clean off the binding with a soft cloth, wipe off the end papers, which often have a coating of dust, especially when the covers do not fit closely, and, if the top is gilt, wipe that carefully also. an "uncut" top is freed from dust by brushing with a soft brush. the book is then collated to make sure that every page is in place and, if there are plates, that no plate is missing. this operation, it is perhaps needless to say, should by all means be done before purchasing, unless the book comes from a reliable dealer to whom an imperfect copy could be returned. if, in collating an old book, the amateur discovers that page follows immediately after page , he need not necessarily be alarmed, as mistakes in pagination and even in the numbering of signatures are very common in books printed a century or more ago. in such cases, the "catch words" which generally appear at the bottom of the pages, or else the text itself, should be examined to see whether the page, without regard for its number, is really in its proper place or not. each page is then examined for dirt or finger marks, which can almost always be removed, the quality of the paper permitting, with a soft pencil-eraser or bread crumbs. marginal notes, especially in contemporary hands, are much better left alone; they are often of considerable value and, when neatly and not excessively done, rather add to the interest of the volume without detracting from its value to any great extent. on which subject bonnardot has quite a little to say, in the chapter on _stains_ included in this volume. presentation inscriptions in the autograph of the author or of some one intimately connected with him of course greatly increase the interest and value of the book. names written on title-pages can often be effaced by the process elsewhere described, but these should not be disturbed until they have been thoroughly investigated. a name which at the moment seems totally unfamiliar may sometimes be found of special interest inscribed in the particular volume in which it is found. as an ordinary illustration of this, might be mentioned a copy of edwin arnold's "gulistan" bearing on the half-title the inscription "to dear mrs. stone from tama." this author had, at one time, married a japanese girl, and a little investigation revealed that her name was tama kurokawa. her inscription, of course, remains undisturbed, as it adds a distinctly personal note to the volume. but alas! the john diddles and william bubbles who have for centuries scribbled their odious names over fair title-pages, with never the grace to make themselves immortal and their autographs a find! writing in the year , richard de bury remarks, "when defects are found in books, they should be repaired at once. nothing develops more rapidly than a tear, and one which is neglected at the moment must later be repaired with usury." bearing in mind these words of wisdom while examining each page of the book, pencil notes should be made on a slip of paper of any pages needing repairs, also of any places between the signatures where the back is "shaken" exposing the stitching and lining. checking off from this list, advisable repairs should then be made. the edges of any tears should be neatly joined with paste. to do this, a clean sheet of white paper should be placed under the torn part and the edges of the tear lightly coated with ordinary white paste. these edges are then pressed together by means of another sheet of white paper pressed above, both the upper and under sheets being gently moved several times to prevent them from sticking to the torn edges. paste used in this way dries in a few minutes and holds firmly if the edges of the tear are a bit rough. if the page is separated by a clean cut, it may be necessary to apply a strip of thin tissue to hold the edges together. the same general method may be used for inlaying pieces torn from the margins, perhaps by the careless use of a paper cutter in the hands of the original owner. paper of the same weight and tint as the torn page is secured, placed under the lacuna, and the outlines of the missing part traced off with a sharp pencil. the piece to be inlaid is then cut, following the traced outline but leaving a little margin, and pasted in position, the outer edge being cut even with the general edge of the leaf when the inlay is dry.[ ] white paper for inlaying may be tinted with water-colors to match the old paper. the best method, however, of imitating the yellowish tone of old paper is to stain the inlay with potassium permanganate. this is a dark purple crystal which is used in extremely weak solution in warm water. if a sheet of paper is to be tinted for inlaying or to replace, perhaps, a missing fly-leaf, it is laid in the solution for a few seconds, then removed and the excess purple tone thoroughly washed off under running water. the paper will then be found tinted a pale, yellowish brown, the tone of which may be varied by the strength of the solution and the length of time the paper remains in it. coffee, licorice or tobacco may also be used, with good results. the pages all in order and repair, the next operation is to repair the "shaken" back. perhaps there is no ill to which old books, especially modern issues in their original bindings, are more subject. the damage known as "broken" back usually means a book practically broken in half, the break, in old calf bindings, usually extending through to the outside of the back. the "shaken" back on the contrary, has merely separated between the signatures, exposing, between the inside sheets, the lining of the back. cheaply bound books seldom remain solid between the signatures, especially when they are printed on heavy, unyielding paper. the damage arises partly from the drying out of the glue in the back and partly from careless handling by readers. books should always be opened gently and never forced open to absolutely flatten out the pages unless the binding is known to be entirely safe and firm. the breaks between signatures are repaired and the old glue at these points softened by means of bookbinders' paste. for this, a solid, satisfactory and fairly elastic substitute can be made by mixing about equal parts of good liquid glue and ordinary white library paste of the kind which comes in tubes. with a long pin, slightly bent on the point, this mixture is laid in the open crack between the signatures, care being taken to distribute it evenly the whole length of the book and to thoroughly cover the exposed inside of the back lining. an excess of paste must be avoided, as it would spread out on the inside margins of the leaves when the book is closed to dry. when all the broken places are mended, the book is closed and placed under a slight pressure for a few hours. where the book is bound with a "spring back," that is to say, with a back which springs apart when the book is opened, leaving a space between the outside back and the actual back of the signatures where they are stitched, a further strengthening of the back may be desirable. this strengthening can be obtained by "lining up" the inside back with a new strip of paper. to do this, cut a strip of medium weight japan vellum--which is the best paper for the purpose--a few inches more than twice the height of the book and in width equal to the inside back. one end of this, with the corners clipped so it will not catch, is inserted between the outside and inside backs of the book and slipped through until it projects about an inch at the bottom of the book. (fig. a.) the part of the strip left exposed at the top is then well coated on the inside face with the paste mentioned above and pulled into the book, against the inside back or lining, by means of the end projecting at the bottom. the surplus of the strip at top and bottom is then cut off, two short slips of paper temporarily inserted at top and bottom to prevent the new lining adhering to the outside back, and a firm hand pressure applied all over the back to force the new lining into close union with the old on the backs of the signatures. the book is then set aside to dry, under a light pressure, after which the two slips of paper inserted at top and bottom are pulled out. [illustration: fig. a] any slight necessary exterior repairs should then be made--loose bits of cloth or paper at worn corners or along the edges of the boards pasted down, and any tears at the top of back above the head-band reenforced from the inside with strips of cloth or paper. the outside of a soiled cloth binding often may be cleaned by means of a soft pencil-eraser. if this is done, the cloth should afterward be freshened by a thin coat of sizing. if these operations are carefully and thoroughly carried out, the book should then be in a solid and satisfactory condition and capable of standing any reasonable amount of wear. chapter ii _removing stains_ translated from bonnardot [illustration: vellum bindings ( and )] before discussing the means of attacking stains which may blemish a book or a precious print, i am going to say that, in certain cases, it might be very desirable to allow them to remain. if i possessed, for example, a missive addressed to charles ix during the night of saint bartholomew, and stained with bloody finger-prints, i would take great care not to disturb these marks which, supposing their authenticity established, would increase tenfold the value of the autograph. if the custodian of the laurentian library at florence should efface, from his longus manuscript, paul louis courier's puddle of ink, he would commit an act of vandalism, for that ink stain is a literary celebrity.[ ] to speak of more ordinary examples: one often finds on a book or print, a signature or inscription which may sometimes be an autograph well worth preservation.[ ] i very rarely efface signatures or the notes of early, unknown owners; i find it pleasanter to respect these souvenirs of the past. in the same way, some curious objects have certain defects which, i think, add to their interest. for example, a statuette of the virgin, in silver or ivory, of which the features and hands are half effaced by the frequent contact of pious lips. restore such worn parts, and the sentiment is stripped from a relic of past ages. it is far better to leave untouched such scars, which attest the antique piety of the cloister. a vellum book of hours of the fifteenth century, worn and soiled through prayer, has, to my mind, acquired a venerable patina. here, a spot of yellow wax; there, the head of a saint blemished by the star-print from a tear of devotion: are not these stains which should be respected? on the other hand, a blot of ink or an oily smear point only to carelessness and should be removed. about the year , i was invited by m. a. farrens, a skilful restorer of old books, to see in his work-shop a dance macabre in quarto, imprinted on paper, at paris, toward the end of the fifteenth century; a rare volume which he was restoring for m. techner. the portions already cleaned and restored, compared with those still untouched, excited my admiration. the numerous worm holes, the torn places, had disappeared through an application of paper-paste, so well joined, so well blended in the mass, that i could hardly detect the boundaries of the restorations. the letters and wood-cuts suffering from lacunae had been reformed with great skill on a new foundation. the soiled surfaces of the pages had entirely disappeared before i know not what scraping or chemical action. in a word, m. farrens was putting into use every secret of restoration to give again to this volume its original lustre. ah well! today, i confess, that if i possessed this book in the dilapidated state in which i saw it, i would leave it just as it stood, and limit myself to the indispensable repair of a new and solid binding. its worn and soiled condition came, very probably, from the frequent and pious turning of its pages, in that monachal perseverance of prayer of which our century knows nothing. its shocking and decrepit condition had, to my eyes, a secret in harmony with all books of the kind, which, from each page, recall to us our insignificance. no doubt many amateurs will not agree with me in this; some, perhaps, will declare i have arrived at a monstrous degree of cynicism for a bibliophile. however, i will supply the means of restoring at least a part of their original freshness to books and old prints badly treated by time or by the indifference of their earlier possessors. when a print is soiled with spots or foreign color, especially in the most interesting places, one can hardly lay it away in a portfolio without making some attempt to remove or reduce the strange tints which appear on it. this is the part of my present work most difficult to discuss, while being the most useful. my simple notions of chemistry are not always sufficient and perhaps, some day, some chemist especially trained in analysis and decomposition may, with advantage, rewrite this portion of my work. i will at least record, however, a large number of satisfactory results which i have obtained and even repeated on fragments of proofs on unsized paper, this last being the most unfavorable of all conditions.[ ] the first difficulty comes when the nature of the spot is not easily recognized. this yellow spot which resists both washing and bleaching, may perhaps be formed by some greasy body or by some metallic oxide, and one must proceed carefully on any hypothesis which may be formed. in such cases, where experiments must be tried, it is necessary to know some chemical substance which can be first applied, to the end that, if the spot persists, the chemicals used in attempting its removal will not, at least, render it impervious to further efforts. it is not possible to set positive rules for this. i have tried indifferently the action of an acid before that of an alkali, and vice versa. only, i have been careful, before renewing any experiments to soak the print for several hours in cold water to stop the action of any chemicals already used and to annul their traces and effects. the first attempt to make upon a spot of unknown origin, is to soak the print for several hours in cold water and then rub the spot gently with a finger or a small brush. it sometimes happens, especially when the paper has been well made and well sized, that the spot will yield to this gentle rubbing, slide off and disappear. when the spot becomes thick and pasty, it is at least weakened even if it does not come off. this is, in any case, a necessary first operation. but it should be carried out with care, in order not to injure the surface of the print. before soaking a print in water or chemicals, it is best to clip a few small shreds from the margin and soak these in a small glass test-tube to note the effect.[ ] it sometimes happens that there appears on a page or print a single spot which it is desirable to remove without going to the trouble and risk of soaking the whole sheet. a spot on the corner offers few obstacles; the part is simply dipped in a vessel containing the proper solution. if the spot is in the middle of the sheet, i usually make use of a shallow porcelain cup having sides slanted in toward the centre, such as is used for water-colors. by means of such a cup, any part of a sheet can be brought into contact with the solution. the chemical may also be applied directly to the spot by means of a small brush. m. de fontelle advises the use of blotting paper from which a hole, a little larger than the spot, has been cut. this is placed over the spot and the chemical liquid dropped in. the blotter around the spot will absorb the excess liquid without offering any obstacle to the operation. in operations upon single spots, the action of the chemicals always extends a little beyond the spot itself and often leaves a bleached line which is in disagreeable contrast with the other parts of the sheet. this may be retinted with dark licorice or some suitable color in more or less concentrated solution, mixed sometimes with a little common ink. this is applied with a small brush, care being taken not to overlap the solution on the unbleached portion of the sheet beyond the bleached line.[ ] _removing stains of various kinds_ grease. grease spots, especially when very recent, can sometimes be drawn out by an absorbent powder such as impalpable clay or chalk. the spotted leaf is enclosed between two tins or boards, both sides of the spot well dusted with the powder, and the book closed tightly and set aside for several hours. some kinds of grease absorb more slowly than others. if this operation is unsuccessful, alcohol, ether or benzine may be tried.[ ] a weak solution of pure or caustic potash operates very rapidly. if the ink on the page or print is turned gray by this, it may be restored by a wash of acid in very weak solution. white of yellow wax. these spots yield promptly to pure turpentine, especially in a warm bath. when the spots thicken, they are lifted off with a scraper, or blotting paper may be applied, pressed down with a heated iron. stearine. wax tapers are today replaced by a kind of liquid grease, stearine, spots of which give paper a disagreeable transparency. these dissolve in warm alcohol or boiling water, but the spot remains stiff and the brilliance of the ink is reduced. the greater part of the stearine spot may be removed by the same process indicated for wax. sealing wax. resin and resinous varnish. all dry resins yield to a warm alcohol bath. the thick part is removed as above. sealing wax colored red, blue, etc., leaves a corresponding tint which is very tenacious. tar, pitch, etc. these spots are rarely encountered. they give way to warm turpentine or cold benzine. if a dark trace remains, it sometimes may be removed by oxalic acid if the spot has not been burned by the hot tar. whenever turpentine is used on any spots, it should always be the purest obtainable. egg yellow. this is always mixed with a little albumen, a matter which thickens in boiling water and can be drawn from the paper, along with the yellow. if the paper is smooth and well sized, all will disappear under a sponge in a bath of hot water. there sometimes remains a yellowish trace. to remove this, apply with a brush chlorated lime and then very weak hydrochloric acid. mud. this may be removed simply with a wet sponge or in a warm water bath. where the paper is rough and absorbent, soap jelly should be used. if a dark trace remains, it usually will yield to oxalic acid or cream of tartar. ink. ordinary writing ink is easily decomposed because its principal constituent is a vegetable matter, oakgall, mixed with a little iron oxide. this gives way rather promptly to an application of sorrel salt dissolved in boiling water. the water must be boiling to secure prompt action. even better success may be obtained by the use of pure oxalic acid, which is an extraction from sorrel salt of which it is the base.[ ] chinese ink cannot be dissolved but sometimes may be washed from a smooth page by means of a damp sponge. marking ink may be removed with chloride of lime. fruit juice. stains from fruit may be removed by chlorine or cream of tartar. in some cases, water alone is sufficient. blood. these stains may be bleached by chloride of lime. as this must be applied for at least twenty minutes, it is better to use it as a damp paste. there will remain a yellow trace which will give way to a weak acid. fecal matters or urine. for such spots, try soap and water. if this is unsuccessful try successively chlorine, alkalis, oxalic acid and hydrochloric acid, soaking the page for an hour in water between each operation. transferred impressions. frequently the characters of a book, bound before the ink is completely dry, offset, while in press, an impression in grayish tones upon the opposite pages or upon the faces of inserted prints. these transferred impressions may sometimes be removed by rubbing with an eraser made of bread crumbs or by soap-jelly, which should be left on for some time and then washed off. i have no doubt neglected to describe more than one kind of spot which an amateur may find. by analogous reasoning, however, he may find for himself the proper remedies to use. if the spot seems to be of a vegetable or animal nature, he should use chlorine and sulfuric acid; if metallic, diluted hydrochloric acid; if oily or greasy, essence of turpentine, ether, alkaline solutions or benzine. bleaching.[ ] soaking a print in cold water for about twenty-four hours often suffices to brighten and clear it; but if, after a long soaking, it still remains darkened to the point of detracting from the clarity of the engraving, one will need to use chemicals in order to obtain a suitable bleaching. chloride of lime may be used for this purpose. this is a fine, dry powder which softens when allowed to absorb moisture from the atmosphere. about fifty grammes of this are placed in a bottle about two-thirds full of water, and thoroughly shaken. when the solution clears by the excess of matter depositing on the bottom of the bottle, the clear liquid is carefully poured off. another solution, which will be weaker, may be made by pouring more water into the bottle. the clear solution is diluted with about twenty times its quantity of pure water, for use. it is better to dilute too much, and add more of the solution later, if necessary, than to dilute too little. the solution will not injure the black ink of an impression, but if too concentrated, it will make the paper brittle. after using this solution, the print should be placed in a bath of weak acid, and then left to soak for several hours in clear water. chapter iii _rebacking_ [illustration: original sheep binding ( rebacked)] it often happens that books are purchased in old sheep, calf, or even morocco bindings with the hinges so broken that the boards are either entirely off or held only by weakened cords. such books may be properly entrusted to a good binder for rebinding in substantial leather. it is sometimes preferable, however, merely to reback such books, not only in order to preserve the old leather sides, which are generally in much better condition than the back and often possessed of a very attractive patina, but also to save the wear and slight trimming to which the book would necessarily be subject in rebinding. it is inadvisable to reback with calf or any very perishable leather. a good quality morocco should be used. in rebacking books bound in old calf or sheep, a smooth-grain brown morocco, such as that known to the trade as spanish morocco, will be found satisfactory and a fair match for the old leather, both in color and surface texture. the first operation in rebacking is to treat the old leather with a softening substance, such as vaseline, to prevent the old leather from breaking while it is being worked on. the vaseline should be rubbed well into the covers, left on for about half an hour, and the excess then wiped off with a soft cloth. vaseline is also used in the same way to assist in the preservation of old leather bindings still in good repair. it is not entirely satisfactory, as it soon dries out. the best composition for preserving leather is one suggested by mr. douglas cockerell, made by mixing about two ounces of castor oil with one ounce of paraffin wax. the oil is heated and the wax, shredded, melted into it. as the mixture cools it is stirred with a splinter of wood. if this is thoroughly done, the resulting mixture will be a whitish jelly. a thin coat of this is applied to the leather, especially around the hinges, and well rubbed in with the palm of the hand. any excess is then wiped off and the book polished with a very soft white rag. this mixture is best used while still hot, a little being soaked into a woolen cloth, by means of which it is rubbed on the binding. if leather bindings could be given this treatment about once a year their life would be greatly increased. after the leather of the old book to be rebacked has been treated, a cut is made down each side of the back, through the leather close to the broken hinge. (fig. a.) care should be taken not to cut through the cords which are set into the boards at this point. if the back is furnished with a leather label in a fair state of preservation, this label should be cut around and lifted off to be used again on the new back. [illustration: fig. a] all the leather on the back and over the hinges, up to the cut above mentioned, should then be lifted or scraped off. as a majority of old books are bound with the leather glued directly to the lining of the back, a certain amount of the old glue, according to its condition, scraped smooth, should be left on the lining. while old calf backs are generally so dry that they must be scraped off in pieces, it is sometimes possible, when the back is of more solid leather, to remove the old back; with the label and gilding, in one piece. if this can be done, the inside of the old back should be scraped and this back pasted on again over the new leather back. this is, of course, preferable, as by this means more of the characteristics of the old cover are preserved. [illustration: fig. b] when the back is clear of leather, a small cut about half an inch long is made at the top and bottom of each side, at the ends of, and at right angles to, the first cut; from the ends of the short cuts, the leather is again cut at right angles over the top and bottom edges of the boards. (fig. b.) as these points, near the top and bottom of the inside hinges, the end-papers pasted on the inside of the boards are lifted for a short distance so that all the old leather under them can be removed. the head-bands should then be examined to see that they are firmly in place and any missing band replaced, the new band being simply glued to the back lining. [illustration: fig. c] a sharp, thin knife is then run under the leather of the sides, following the first long cut, loosening this leather from the boards for about half an inch back from the cut, this distance equalling the short cuts at top and bottom. (fig. c.) the book is now ready for the new back. this is cut from the leather to be used, in width equal to the distance over the back and hinges plus a trifle less than half an inch on each side, and in height to project half an inch beyond the top and bottom of the book. this leather is then pared thin on the inside for about half an inch all around the edge. paring requires careful work and a sharp knife, otherwise the piece may not be pared thin enough to set smoothly, or may be cut through and ruined. [illustration: fig. d] the back lining of the book itself, and the inside of the new back, are then given a medium thin coat of paste, and the leather set evenly in place. the side edges of the back are slipped under the leather of the sides where this leather was loosened from the boards following the first, long cut, and pasted directly on the boards. (fig. d.) by this time the paste on the top and bottom ends of the back will be dry. these are given another coat of paste, one at a time, and turned under upon themselves, starting in the middle, the corners being carried over the edges of the boards and securely pasted down inside where the end papers have been pushed back. the top, beyond the boards, is tucked in behind the head-band. when the top and bottom of the back have been treated in this way, they are then flattened with a folder and the edges of the hinges are bent in to form the head-cap finish observable on almost any book bound by hand in leather. (fig. e.) the tops of the head-bands may require a slight touch of paste so that the leather turned over upon them will stay in place. [illustration: fig. e] the inside end papers, where they were lifted at the top and bottom near hinges, are then pasted down over the corners of the new back which are folded in at these points, and the leather lifted from the sides is pasted down over the side edges of the new back where these are pasted directly on the boards. new inside hinges of paper or cloth may be added, if required; but if these are to go in they are best set in place before the new back is pasted on. the new back being in place, it might be given a certain amount of finish. if the book is sewn on outside cords, these will show as raised bands on the back, and the new leather is, of course, moulded over these when it is first set in place. in such a case, a satisfactory, plain finish can be obtained by moulding these bands distinctly. this is done by running the edge of the folder in the angle at each side of each band with a see-saw motion. experiment will show how this may give a smooth, polished line on each side of the bands if it is thoroughly done with fair pressure while the leather is still moist from the paste on the inside. before attempting any such operations, however, the outside of the new back must be washed entirely free from any spots of paste. an additional "blind" line may be made at top and bottom across the back, by bending over the back a straight piece of vellum to serve as a guide to the folder. a smooth back without bands may be finished with a series of double or single lines put on in this manner, care being taken that the line of the vellum guide is at right angles to the side edges of the back. the back of the old label, if this is to be used again, is then scraped and the label pasted on in its proper place between bands; or a new label, properly lettered in gilt, may be ordered from a binder. the entire work, when almost dry, should be pressed over with a hot flat-iron to press down any irregularities, the edges of the cut leather on the sides, and the top and bottom finish over head-bands. the iron must be well warmed rather than hot. if too hot, it will lift the surface of the leather. the book should then be placed under pressure to dry. for the operation of rebacking one needs only a sharp, thin knife, a ruler or straight edge, a bone folder and a small flat-iron in the way of tools. a small press is desirable, but not necessary. the folder, which may be purchased from a dealer in bookbinders' supplies, will be furnished with square ends; one of these ends should be sawed off on an angle and smoothed with a file to give a pointed end, which will be found very useful. (fig. f.) the flat-iron should be wedge-shaped, about four inches long, with straight, rounded edges. [fig. g.] irons of this kind may be found in toy shops, and will be found extremely useful and easy to handle in all small repair operations. [illustration: fig. f] [illustration: fig. g] to the above tools may be added, if desired, one or two small tooling irons of simple design for blind tooling. such irons are used just hot enough to hiss very slightly when touched with a wet cloth, and are pressed firmly and evenly on the leather for two or three seconds to leave a good impression. books bound in boards, with cloth or paper backs, may be rebacked with cloth, parchment, or even with heavy paper in facsimile of the original back. in the latter case, it is advisable to line the back with a strip of japan vellum, which should extend over upon the boards under the new paper back. parchment is often satisfactory and requires no paring, but must be handled carefully when damp from paste, or it will stretch out of shape. chapter iv _repairing old bindings_ translated from bonnardot [illustration: modern levant binding] not having the secret of that special, certain skill which produces flexible and artistic bindings, i am obliged to advise amateurs who wish to see their books reclad in princely mantles, to apply to our able parisian binders. but i can give, from my own experience, some good suggestions to amateurs on the manner of cleaning, repairing and freshening ordinary morocco bindings, and also, under certain conditions, those sumptuous moroccos of the levant, the mere perfume of which fascinates all true-born bibliophiles. cleaning the cover. it is possible, without being obliged to touch the boards of a book, to clean and repair the covering, either entirely or in spots. to accomplish this, i know some methods which are simple and practical, although, of course, too imperfect to restore to an ancient binding all the brightness and vigor of its youth. a rather mature prima-donna may, perhaps, within certain limits, soften the ravages of time; but, when observed closely, the lines on her face cannot be concealed. and this is also the case with the coquettish old bindings of which i speak. morocco or calf which has become soiled by constant handling may be cleaned with a fine sponge dipped in a jelly of white soap. if there are spots of oil or grease, this soap will not suffice; it will be necessary to use black soap, or perhaps a weak solution of some alkali, such as potash or ammonia. in using such alkalis, it is best to first try them on some odd pieces of leather of the same color or upon some part of the bindings not likely to be noticed, because certain colors in leather are apt to decompose or change their tint under the action of an alkali. it has been observed that alkalis tend to darken the leather, more or less; therefore, after employing them, a little acidified water must be applied to neutralize their effect. also that morocco should be moistened only very slightly, as, otherwise, the surface grain may be smoothed away. one might begin by trying benzine; this liquid will not attack any color or, at least, only a color formed principally of fatty or resinous substances. benzine does not act like an alkali; it does not saponify the greasy body, but it dissolves it as water dissolves a salt, a gum or gelatine. it must be used quickly, as it evaporates much more rapidly than ammonia, which itself is considered volatile. the latter will mix with water, but benzine combines only with alcohol. thus benzine, like all other essential oils, operates only as a dissolvent and, after having been applied, either pure or mixed with alcohol, upon the book cover, it must be wiped off with a soft cloth before it evaporates, so that the particles of grease which it has dissolved, but not decomposed, will not sink again into the leather and later reappear on its surface. the best method, after having poured some drops of the liquid upon one side of the book, is to turn this side toward the ground. in this position the benzine, charged with part of the greasy substance, will run down and accumulate upon the lowest edge of the cover, from which it can quickly be wiped off with the substances it holds in solution. perhaps an even better method of operation may be discovered. this manner of employing benzine, alcohol or turpentine as dissolvents for the greasy body is equally applicable for removing oily spots from prints, and i recommend it to the reader for experiment. when grease is removed with alkaline water, it is useless to proceed in this manner; the soapy substance which forms on the leather after rubbing should be removed with a damp sponge, after which the book should be dried in the air and then placed under pressure. fresh spots of oil or grease may sometimes be removed by impalpable powders of some clay-like nature, absorbent and slightly alkaline. a spot of ordinary black ink upon morocco, sheepskin, calf or smooth parchment, loses its color when touched with a few drops of sorrel salt or oxalic acid; but i will repeat here the advice already given that these substances may alter certain colors and that it is best to first try them on extra pieces of leather. if the tint lightens or changes only slightly, the spot can be retoned and brightened simply with properly mixed water-colors, after having neutralized, with an alkali, the traces of the acid. the yellowish spot which remains after the black ink has disappeared is not very noticeable upon brown or yellowish skins, but on vellum or parchment it is more or less apparent. how can this be removed? for if one is obliged to prolong the action of the oxalic acid on the iron oxide which causes it, this portion of the skin not only loses its gloss, but also becomes subject to a more or less rapid process of dissolution.[ ] when the spots are of chinese ink, old or recent, and have sunk into the texture, as sometimes happens, they resist all known agents. most of the old bindings which have been long exposed for sale on the parapets of our quays, have been at one moment roasted by an ardent sun and at the next distended by a damp atmosphere; they have, therefore, contracted "skin troubles" more or less curable according to the duration of their ordeal. the gentler regimen of the bookshelves, placed in a room where the temperature is more nearly uniform, sometimes suffices to restore their warped covers; but when the surface of the leather has fallen off in scales, carrying away the gold tooling, it is better, if they are worthy of it, to deliver them to the binder for new covers; that is, of course, when the paper, the essential organ of their existence, is not musty beyond recovery. if the paper is in bad shape, the book is lost or, at least, is beyond giving pleasure to a bibliophile; it resembles a very old man attacked by an incurable disease; it is useful only for reference. some books, placed in less rude conditions, have only the skin stripped here and there by contact with rougher neighbors trimmed with nails or clasps, with hard boards or with wicker-work, but movement against these objects might ruin an entire library in a single day. the library of the louvre, it might be mentioned, was being moved last spring to a new location, by means of these wicker baskets so formidable despite the straw or oakum with which they were lined. some of my own books have passed several times through this fatal ordeal and have suffered greatly from it. now when i change my residence i use, with rather tardy precaution, well-planed boxes. books slightly roughened, their bloom destroyed simply by friction, may be freshened and restored to an aspect of health to conceal, up to a certain point, the wear of their old coverings. with an old glove one may spread over their surface a little flour paste or fairly thick starch to which a little alum might be added. this is smeared quickly over the back, sides and edges of the boards, and the surplus wiped off with a soft cloth. this carries away any dust which may have been deposited and also soilings which soften in the moisture.[ ] after this operation, there will remain on the volume a thin coating of gelatine or of gluten (the viscous part of the starch). before this has entirely dried, it should be thoroughly wiped over with the palm of the hand. any scraped portions of the leather will have a dull appearance and will sometimes show darker than other parts of the cover. the edges of stripped or broken spots may be refastened to the cover by means of the starch sizing. the corners which, nearly always, will be found worn or bent, may be straightened and strengthened. in a word, if the cover cannot be restored to pass as new, it may at least be rendered more presentable and made to contrast more favorably with other books it may meet upon the shelf. after a washing with starch, as after cleaning with alkalis, it often happens that the covers of a book are dulled. their polish, where the bloom has not been worn away, can be restored by rubbing with a piece of flannel moistened with a few drops of very siccative varnish (purchased from art dealers or dealers in bookbinders' materials). most amateurs and binders know this inexpensive way of restoring a certain lustre to faded and erupted, if one may use that expression, bindings. if i have spoken rather in detail, it is for the sake of amateurs still inexperienced or living in a small, provincial town. as these latter probably would not know where to procure varnish, i offer the recipe of m. f. mairet, which indicates the proportions for a large quantity but which may be divided by ten. in the thirty-ninth part of his "essay upon binding" he says: dissolve eight ounces of sandarach (resin), two ounces of mastic in drops, eight ounces of gum-lac in tablets and two ounces of venetian turpentine, in three litres (quarts) of spirits of wine at a temperature of thirty-six to forty degrees.[ ] crush the gums and, to completely dissolve them, place the bottle which contains them in the wine, in hot water, shaking it from time to time. this varnish can be preserved in the bottle in which it is made, keeping the bottle tightly corked. when one wishes to use the varnish, the bottle should not be shaken because of the deposit which forms. i will here make a recommendation analogous to that of m. le normand; it is desirable to place the glass bottle in a basin containing warm water before placing it in the very hot water, as otherwise it may break. also, instead of shaking the bottle, the contents may be stirred with a glass rod. this is how m. mairet describes the use of his varnish; with a very soft brush, the varnish is spread over the covers of the book without putting it on the gilding. when it is nearly dry, it is polished with a piece of white cloth slightly moistened with olive oil. it should first be rubbed gently, then with more force as the varnish dries. for complete success it is essential that the covers be perfectly dry[ ] and without the slightest dampness. instead of using this varnish, one may give a fair polish which, however, is not so enduring, by coating with the liquid known as "glaire." this is made from the white of an egg beaten up with a little water and alcohol.[ ] one might also try a glaze made with hide glue or gum-arabic. the lustre of white vellum or of calf, when they have not been badly rubbed by use, may be restored by rubbing with an agate burnisher, a polished bone or a curved iron slightly warmed. sometimes, before polishing, according to m. le normand, the covers should be rubbed with flannel holding a little tallow or walnut oil.[ ] great care should be taken in polishing morocco, whether genuine or imitation, in order that the grain which contributes so much to its beauty may not be rubbed away. the surface of sheep also, which is a very delicate leather, is easily stripped. to polish leathers such as these, binders' varnish or, at least, the glaire mentioned above, should be used. repairing holes and broken surfaces. we will now consider any serious wounds which go deeper than the surface of the leather. one often sees covers of calf, sheep or morocco deeply stripped or even pierced like the coats of diogenes and ruy-blas; the back, the sides and corners, especially the lower ones, broken away even to the point of exposing the boards. this is a state of cynicism which calls for some remedy; the simple smearing on of starch is powerless to heal such damages. it is often possible to restore missing fragments by means of new pieces of the same kind and tint of leather. i will assume that the amateur possesses a collection of odd scraps of morocco, brown calf, old vellum, etc., removed with more or less right from books whose pages have been unfortunately ruined, to be devoted to more humiliating uses. these should be searched for a suitable piece; sometimes this is found. the essential point is to match the grain of the leather. when the tint is too light, it can easily be darkened with water-colors; when it is too dark, one must search further. one may, however, lighten a little piece of calf which is too dark by means of very weak acid. suppose the desired patch found. the hole or broken place in the cover is cleaned and the edge cut sharp to prevent further tearing, and in this is set a piece from the patch, cut exactly to fit. if the amateur has not time to do this careful mosaic patching, he may, with a small, thin blade, raise the edges of the leather about the hole and, applying paste or glue directly to the board, slip in a patch piece which has been roughly cut a little larger than the hole and pared thin around the edges. the edges of the hole should then be moistened with paste and firmly pressed down into place over the patch. a patch made in this way is less agreeable to the eye than when made by the first process, for by this latter method there always remains a sort of raised pad which accents the form of the hole. let us consider now the repair of bruises, more or less deep, caused by rough contact with some hard, sharp or rough body. when the stripped parts are still hanging to the cover, they should be straightened out and pressed back into place after being given a light coat of thick starch paste. but if the stripped parts corresponding to the bruise are missing, how shall the furrow, which reveals a spongy appearance, be brought up level with the surface of the cover? with a corresponding patch inserted in the fissure? this is an operation, i think, very difficult to carry out, and it is simpler to cut the furrow into a definite hole if one wishes to proceed in this way. let us try and imagine some kind of putty for such repairs. i do not wish to write hastily of any method of procedure for the fabrication of bruised leather, but it seems to me that a paste or putty formed of powdered or shredded leather, boiled with a little flour paste, would answer our purpose. with this one could fill up the furrow and then, when the paste has dried, scrape off the excess surface and burnish the dried inlay. this method should answer very well, but there is still another which i have tried, although it is not so delicate. i employed flour paste mixed simply with spanish white.[ ] with this, i puttied up my book like a picture in process of being retouched. i even succeeded, with this paste, in imitating the grain of the morocco. i tinted the patches by applying color mixed with gum. but this sort of repair is only applicable to parts of the cover away from the edges; in the neighborhood of the hinges, this unelastic paste will break loose or, at least, render the book difficult to open. i experimented also with gutta-percha. this brownish substance has the property, at a certain temperature (towards seventy degrees)[ ] of melting and adhering to the leather and, on cooling, recovers its natural, semi-elastic state. but after having been melted at a fire or, if the season is right, by sunlight through a lens, it turns brown and will not harmonize in tint except with very dark calf, and i have found no method of lightening it. we will now speak of repairing and patching the cover in those parts which serve as hinges. this is an operation practicable only when a substance very thin and supple can be found. i have succeeded in restoring this part of a book by using a strip of gold-beaters skin, slipped between the back and the side and fastened, on one part, to the edge of the side and, on the other, to the boards lining the back. i then gave to this skin a tint corresponding to that of the cover. the break remained visible; i only reconnected the parts so that the book could be opened and closed.[ ] would one succeed better by using a thin piece of rubber? i have never tried this, but this substance, i believe, could not be obtained in very thin sheets except by being considerably stretched, a process which would soon destroy the elasticity which is its essential quality. perhaps the broken hinges of a dark calf book could be joined without great difficulty by means of the liquefied gutta-percha mentioned above. i have sometimes repaired the corners of a volume with more or less success. in cases where the damage was slight, after having loosened the paper on the inside of the cover at the corner, either with, or without, moistening it, i pushed back the damaged skin for a short distance, then glued upon the board over the corner a fragment of leather of the same kind and tint, pared thin, then pressed down the rough edges and fashioned the new corner by moistening the leather. then, having replaced the broken edges of the original leather, i recolored the patch to an exact match.[ ] when the leather at the corner is entirely dilapidated an entirely new corner of triangular form should be supplied, pasted down level with the leather on the cover, which has been cut away smoothly where the new corner is joined on. if the corner of the board is itself tattered, it can be stiffened by the use of paste or glue, thoroughly soaked in and left to dry. a little spanish white might be added to the paste to give it more solidity. but when the angle of the corner is entirely rounded, weakened and demolished by use, it should be renewed by incorporating an entirely new corner on the board. to fasten this securely, the edge of the board should be cut across at an angle of forty-five degrees, then split, and the upper half cut away for a short distance back. the new triangular piece for the corner is also notched underneath to correspond so that the two patches will superimpose and exactly fit. here one makes use of strong paste or glue. this operation is not difficult but it requires time and patience, for a considerable amount of leather must be raised from the board and then replaced. if one is not endowed with patience, it is better to turn this work over to a binder, otherwise one will work to no purpose and will damage his book instead of restoring it. repairing edges. to remove a spot of ink or color from the edges of a book, the substance described for similar operations on pages or prints may be used. however, there is this distinction; here one is not concerned with the surface of a single sheet but with a great many page-edges one after another. if the edges to be cleaned are not placed under pressure, the liquids, penetrating between them, will stain the pages themselves. if, however, the ink itself has thus spread into the pages, it might be desirable to send the dissolving liquid over the same route. in this case, it will be necessary to efface from each page the moisture following the application of the remedy, and this requires careful work. if, on the contrary, the spot soils merely the surface of the edges, the volume should be placed under pressure in such a position that the edges to be cleaned stand vertical; then, with a small brush, the necessary liquid may be applied. the spot removed (supposing that it is of a nature which may be decomposed) it is necessary, in some cases, to restore the general tint of the edges; this is not a very difficult matter, at least when they are not marbled. when the edges are gilt, the gold is not usually attacked and naturally resists the action of the chemical agents; the ink or other spot can thus be removed without necessitating the restoration of the gold afterward. a spot may sometimes be removed with a dampened sponge.[ ] even chinese ink, a black which will not decompose, is often susceptible to this gentle procedure by means of which it may be wiped away. let us now suppose that the edges are free from spots but that they are faded, and partly discolored. it is easy enough to brighten the colors if they are not too complicated; i will add; and provided the pages are not unequal, with some advanced and some drawn back, destroying the general level, for, in this case, it is necessary to begin by repairing the back without separating the volume; an almost impossible operation.[ ] the color brightened, it may be repolished with an agate burnisher while the edges are held closely pressed together. if edges, not colored, but gilt, have been damaged here and there by use, perfect restoration is impracticable. a new patch of gold applied over the worn spot contrasts in freshness and polish with the rest of the surface and, at the points where it necessarily overlaps the perfect parts, the excess gold remains noticeable. undoubtedly, the best procedure is to have the whole surface regilded by a professional gilder. if one has gone to the trouble of brightening the edges, one may desire to complete the restoration by renewing the head-bands. i have never had patience enough to make a head-band, a kind of needle-work which belongs particularly to the bookbinders' trade. the amateur should have recourse to a binder for this or, if he wishes to attempt the work himself, consult any of the books published on binding. restoring the gilding.[ ] it is sometimes necessary to brighten, patch and partially replace the gilt ornaments of a precious book. in cleaning a book, as i have described above, with soap-jelly or starch paste, the gold is not affected if the operation is carried out according to directions; on the contrary, one lifts from the gold the deposit of dirt which deadens its brilliancy. but if it has been, at some points, destroyed by the breaks in the leather, it is necessary, in order to restore the gold, to refinish the leather at the broken point. here a considerable difficulty presents itself, and it is necessary to find a filler which will serve as a base. gutta-percha will not answer at such points, except for cold gilding, as the application of a warm gilding iron would liquefy it. the only satisfactory solution is to inlay with leather. i have sometimes succeeded in restoring missing spots of gilding by the simple employment of gilt paint, laid with a fine brush upon the properly prepared patch, imitating carefully each missing part of the ornamentation. this kind of joining, however, lacks brilliance and solidity; wiping with a damp sponge is sufficient to effect it; but it may be given a little more permanency by a coat of binders' varnish. i can suggest a less imperfect method of procedure. where there are thin lines or figures such as circles to join, the amateur can do this with home-made tools. such tools may be made of small brass wire, some straight edges and others curved like gouges.[ ] he should also have small dots of various sizes, circular or oval in profile. with these simple elements, most line designs may be patched. the ground properly prepared, the warm iron tool to be used is applied upon fragments of gold-leaf. the iron should be a little hotter than boiling water; otherwise it will not fix the gold in place. if too hot, it will burn the leather. gilders test the heat of an iron by touching it with a wet finger, and are able to tell, by the sizzle and amount of vapor given off, whether the degree of heat is right. a more simple method, for the amateur, is to try the iron on a fragment of leather.[ ] the excess of gold not pressed in by the iron may be wiped off with a fragment of woolen cloth. if it is necessary to restore a complicated ornament upon an ancient and very precious binding, special irons must be cut, using the tooling still in place as a guide. with patience and skill, one may fashion these for himself. the required ornamentation is traced from another spot where it is still intact on the binding, with a brush holding resin varnish or wax. this tracing, which naturally leaves an imprint in reverse, is applied to a piece of copper, and the design retouched on the copper with the same varnish or wax.[ ] the other faces of the cube or cylinder of copper used are coated, and the copper placed in a bath of azotic acid. the acid will eat the metal not protected as above, leaving the ornament standing out in relief, something after the manner of a stereotype plate. or, the electro-chemical procedure of stereotyping may be used to the same end. by the aid of a form obtained in some such manner as the above, it is possible to restore the effaced ornaments, provided that the leather is prepared to receive and hold the gold. let me note in passing that it is difficult for inexperienced amateurs to set gold smoothly; only long practice will make this possible. necessarily, the very thin gold leaf always covers and reaches beyond the spot to be tooled. it is essential that the iron be pressed exactly upon the spot intended to receive it, which is very difficult to accomplish. moreover, the gold must be kept smooth and fresh over the entire impression. perhaps one might substitute for the gold leaf a coat of gold powder spread over the design, which should be coated with albuminous paste (glaire) to hold the powder. one sometimes wishes, also, to rectify a defective title or erroneous date on the binding. the simplest method is to stamp the desired lettering or date on an odd bit of leather, which is then applied to the book. the amateur may do this himself if he has the necessary letter, a form to hold them, and a certain amount of skill. suppose a case where, in a title anciently gilt and which one wishes to preserve, there is a single letter or a single character to change. it is first necessary to efface the letter or character to be replaced. to do this, it is touched with a drop of alcohol; on wiping it, the varnish which may have covered the gold is removed. if the gold resists thorough rubbing, chemical compositions may be tried. i would not advise, however, the use of aqua-regia, the infallible dissolvent of gold, because it would disorganize the leather. i think that a drop of mercury, applied hot upon a letter by means of an iron or sunrays through a lens, would absorb and amalgamate the metallic particles. in any case, there would still remain a moulded impression which might be removed, i think, by swelling the leather at that spot by means of a jet of steam applied through a very narrow glass tube.[ ] the impression effaced, or at least reduced, one may proceed to replace the corrected letter. for this, a letter or figure matching the others in size and character must be secured. sometimes it is necessary for the amateur to make this himself. this can be done by securing a fragment of rolled copper and, with the aid of small pincers, fashioning the profile of the desired letter on its edge. the thickness of the metal would form the thickness of the letter's face; strokes required slender may be pared with a knife. with a little care and skill, the desired character may be produced. the bit of metal is then set in a handle of plaster or clay, which is allowed to dry and harden. transferring ancient covers. is it possible to transfer the covers of works richly bound, but valueless inside, to the boards of other books more precious in their text and more deserving of the transferred binding? some of our binders have replied in the affirmative. many a volume has retained virginal the splendour of its original binding simply because the text has been tiresome and insipid. in this class appear certain volumes of indigestible theology, "sacred works and not to be touched," as voltaire remarked, and those odes of court-flattery, insipidly rhymed in doggerel, in aristocratic liveries, addressed to high personages who paid for them but who never read them. from books of such sorts, one may, without remorse, lift the precious coverings. however, to make use of them, it is necessary that all their dimensions correspond with the new volumes on which it is proposed to place them. the old books in good condition are easily despoiled when there is no need to be careful of the cording, the fly leaves or the boards. the process requiring the most time is that of scraping away the dry paste which adheres here and there to the inside of the leather after its removal. i have re-covered more than one quarto in covers of gold tooled vellum lifted from books of the same format. when the back was too narrow or too wide, i replaced this part, but then the cover was formed of three pieces. when the back was of the right width, i effaced the old title, generally lettered in ink, by means of sorrel-salt, and inscribed the new title in the same place but with chinese ink. where the old title happened to be gilt, i covered it with a new piece of skin, finding it too laborious to efface all the letters by the process mentioned above. let us suppose it is necessary to replace upon a rare volume, changing only the boards, the old contemporary binding which covered it. if the skin is worn on the edges and corners and at the hinges, removing it without injury from the old boards is a very delicate operation. however, it may be done, even without moistening the leather, by using the skill and patience which both come from practice. our binders, in cases where expense has not been in consideration, have executed more than one feat of this kind. only, nearly always, they are obliged to renew the parts injured by use and the end papers. they apply, here and there, to the new boards bits of leather matching the tint of the old, reset the preserved cover, still charged with the rich ornaments which constitute its value and, upon the portions renewed, restore the gilding after the model of that which they have before them. more than one binder has succeeded, with great skill, in placing upon a new foundation the splendid cover of a very rare book without being obliged to go to the regrettable extreme of a second sewing and trimming. it is even possible, with the exercise of great care, to clean the sheets, one by one, and repair the torn and missing places, without separating the book; but one can see that such restorations are a matter of expense and not suitable except for books of considerable value. i believe that there exist in paris binders of sufficient skill to replace a cover "in octavo," transposing it without injury to the volume and without leaving the least trace of this difficult operation. chapter v _rebinding_ [illustration: solander slip-case] in chapter thirteen of his _essai_, bonnardot remarks: "when one sees upon the table in a public shop, a rare book roughly sewn, ignobly deteriorated and, especially, badly cut down, either too much or unevenly, one may believe that it has passed, at some period, through the hands of a provincial bookbinder or of one of our parisian binders of the lower order, who consider it proper to wrap up a typographical monument of the louis xii period in a way to strike off about nineteen-twentieths of its value. "i know of no species of vandals worse, more primitive or more irresponsible than these botchers. but one can see how they are sometimes impelled, in spite of a natural taste, to commit these ravages. after considerable discussion, a person may offer them about centimes ($ . ), more or less, for a piece of work which, if done with care, should well be worth eight or ten times that amount. the natural and inevitable punishment caused by this penny-pinching, is the almost total depreciation of a book placed in the care of an easy-going bibliophile who, with a light heart condemns his old friend to a binding limited in price to centimes. "the provincial bookbinder whose work, with its dirty, warped boards, simpers under a covering of sheep still hairy and spotted with patches of ink, is in much the same class as a cheap glazer and gilder to whom an amateur iconophile might naively send for restoration a rare albert durer; and both these similar to an architect who, with blind decision, would be sent to mutilate the flanks of some majestic cathedral. this redoubtable trio, born enemies of souvenirs engraved in stone or upon paper, botch and destroy, although perhaps without malice, at least three-fourths of anything on which they operate. may these tardy remarks still save something from the ruins! "the most irremediable of the crimes which can be committed in rebinding a small, old book, is the trimming of margins. the simple matter of a centime's economy in the size of the boards, may direct the trimming of some charming gothic quarto up to the very text. one may thrice exclaim with joy when the text itself has not been cropped. those who partly realize, or divine by instinct, that margins are good for something, sometimes take pains to preserve them, but trim them with an inequality so shocking that the victim has only escaped charybdis in order to fall upon scylla. undoubtedly, the greatest merit of a rare book is to have untrimmed margins or, at least, margins trimmed only slightly and evenly. but to obtain evenness, it is not proper to cut huge slices in order to square the edges; such zeal for symmetry easily might result in cutting into the text. the best method for squaring a book which was unevenly cut when previously bound, is to refold and equalize each sheet before any further trimming is done; a long and detailed operation for which one pays, not in centimes but in francs." bonnardot goes on from the above, very pointed remarks, to describe various operations of rebinding, with an idea of assisting bibliophiles who are too far from the centres of civilization to get in touch with a good binder. for detailed information along these lines, which hardly come within the scope of the present volume, books written especially on the subject of binding should be consulted. it is very difficult to execute a satisfactory binding without going through a long period of practice and apprenticeship. and this work not only includes several long and dreary operations, such as sewing, which the average bibliophile would not have the time or patience to undertake, but also requires a number of bulky tools and presses, out of place except in a shop or work-room. any book in serious need of rebinding is better placed in the hands of an experienced binder, preferably one who specializes in individual bindings. with the book, written directions may be sent, when distance renders personal consultation impossible. as nine-tenths of all binders, even today, still practice many careless methods against which bibliophiles have protested for centuries, it is desirable, in any case, both as a precaution and as a practical help and reminder to the binder, to furnish, with each book to be bound, complete written instructions for the work. with the written directions, a sketch of the book may be furnished, giving details of the design of tooling wanted, except in cases where it is known that this matter may safely be left to the good taste of the binder. if many books are sent to the same binder, however, suggestions on finish and tooling may very well be made. sometimes these may prove of interest to the binder himself. the reason for such suggestions is that nearly every binder has certain set personal conventions, especially in the matter of tooling construction, causing, in all his bindings, a certain uniformity of design. although this may be varied by the different selection of the actual tools used and the colors of the leather, it becomes monotonous in its general construction and damages the visible personality of the individual volumes. a form of direction sheet, which will, of course, vary with varying requirements, follows. title. in gilt on back. the enemies of books ---- william blades date. in gilt at bottom of back. cover. full, dark brown pebbled morocco, best quality turkey. full grain, not crushed. top. gilt top. please trim as little as possible. edges. do not trim or cut bottom or fore edges.[ ] tooling. gilt line borders on sides near edges, with corner ornaments; use geometrical design ornaments if you have them, rather than flowers. panels on back. sewing. sew flexible on flat bands with leather back glued direct to the lining of signatures. please do not saw into backs of signatures for bands or cords.[ ] end papers. plain light brown or white.[ ] special. be sure and place clean sheets of paper over the etched illustrations whenever the book is in press. the original wrappers now on are considerably torn and are very brittle. please mount these as well as you can, on thin, strong paper, and bind them in at the back. the price for this work may be agreed on beforehand, but it is better left to the binder, in order that he will not feel cramped, should the necessity of a little unforeseen work develop. whatever their other failings may be, binders are generally honest in such matters and are not likely to overcharge, especially on average work. this may be a good place to remark, perhaps needlessly, that valuable books, particularly first editions, should always be retained in their original covers, whether cloth, boards or leather, whenever this is at all practicable. ancient books in their original calf or sheep, but with broken backs or hinges, and requiring attention for their proper preservation, should be rebacked rather than rebound. the reasons for this are numerous. principally, the fact that a book is still in its original binding is a fair guarantee that it has not been trimmed since it originally left the binder's hands. it often happens, also, that books containing rare plates have the plates foxed or otherwise damaged, and it is sometimes possible, in rebinding such books, to substitute for the injured plates other perfect ones, in exact facsimile, from some later edition of the same book. suspicion of this, or of other tampering, can generally be avoided when such books appear still in the original binding. there is, moreover, a sentimental attraction in early issues of books in their original state, since, in most cases, they thus appear as they formerly did to their author, perhaps even in some special color or design of binding which he himself selected. original bindings having a stamped design possess a more or less individual decoration, perhaps from the hand of some well-known artist. aubrey beardsley, for instance, prepared a number of such book decorations; many of the volumes issued in - by john lane of london, have cover designs by this artist and these, especially when accompanied by a frontispiece of title design by the same hand, are often equal in interest to the text of the book itself. of special interest from the standpoint of originality are the japanese-like fabrics used in binding some of the first editions of books by lafcadio hearn. whether specially decorated or not, however, the original binding is part of the individuality of a book and cannot be removed without destroying a certain part of its interest. in the case of valuable books which are, for one reason or another, seldom referred to, or unique or presentation copies, it is a good practice to make slight essential repairs without disturbing the binding and to order, from an experienced binder, a book-shaped slip-case in which the volume may be preserved in its original covers without being subject to further wear or to injury from dust. a fairly valuable book which must be rebound, should never be bound in calf or sheep, as these leathers, even when of the best quality, are very perishable. sheep bindings, sometimes three hundred years old, may still be occasionally met with in remarkably solid condition. but the secret of such leather tanning seems to have been lost, and the modern sheep or calf binding cannot be counted on, even under the most favorable conditions, for more than one-tenth that length of time. in certain climates, parchment or vellum makes a durable binding which, with age, acquires a beautiful, ivory-like surface tone; but these skins will warp the boards unless the book is kept closely set in on the shelf. turkey morocco is durable when well tanned, as it usually is. the best leather, for appearance and endurance, and also the most expensive, is red levant morocco. for efficiency and richness, although this is a matter on which tastes vary, it is best left "uncrushed" or, at least, only lightly pressed. the best moroccos are those tanned entirely "acid-free," or as nearly so as possible. "niger" morocco, native tanned on the banks of the niger river in africa, and imported into england, is an acid-free leather used for expensive bindings. this leather is rather hard to secure, but its desirability is indicated by the fact that it is the only leather on which the severe tests described in the report of the committee on leather for bookbindings, elsewhere mentioned, had no effect. chapter vi _the book shelves_ [illustration: leather slip-covers] open shelves undoubtedly form the ideal resting place for books, since they are not only convenient for access, but also allow a free circulation of air around the volumes. they are, however, often impracticable as affording insufficient protection against dust and dirt, especially in cities, where closed cases are very necessary. no case with movable doors is absolutely dust-proof, but some types very closely approach this desirable state. closed cases are, of course, to be preferred with glass doors to reveal a glimpse of the treasures within. they should be set a few inches away from the wall, to permit a free circulation of air around them, and should never be so placed that the books are exposed to direct sunlight or a strong glare, as this will fade or discolor the bindings, particularly green leather, which is very apt to turn brown. the room in which cases are placed should be free from damp, and the windows should be kept closed at night. if the windows admit an excess of sunlight or glare, they are best furnished with yellowish or olive-green glass, which will neutralize any harmful effects of the light on the books. such colored glass, if "leaded," may be made a very attractive addition to the appearance of the room. red glass verging toward the orange is equally effective, but less adaptable to the purpose. a full description of the effects of light on various kinds and colors of leathers will be found in the report of the committee on leather for bookbindings, london, bell, . this report also gives the following suggestion for a preservative finish to be used on leather bindings: "boil eight parts of stearic acid and one part of caustic soda in fifty parts of water, until dissolved. then add one hundred and fifty parts of cold water and stir until the substance sets into a jelly. apply this jelly thinly with a sponge or rag and, when it has dried, polish the leather with a soft flannel. if a white film rises to the surface of the leather this can be wiped away with a damp cloth and the leather repolished." a fair supply of this mixture, suitable for small library purposes, can be made by boiling half an ounce (by weight) of the stearic acid, and one-sixteenth of an ounce (by weight) of the caustic soda, in three liquid ounces of water and then adding nine liquid ounces of cold water. it is best to stir the mixture gently while cooling; the entire process of preparation will take only a few minutes. if kept for more than a week or two, this mixture may become mouldy. it is better to prepare it only when it can be used on a number of books at once. books in closed cases should be removed and thoroughly dusted at least once a year, the tops especially being carefully wiped clean, if gilt, or brushed, if uncut, in either case while holding the book tightly closed. they should be aired at the same time, particularly those not in frequent use. for this airing and cleaning a warm, sunny day should be selected and, whenever possible, on such days the cases should be opened; books, like people, are healthier when well supplied with good, fresh air. books on the shelves should set in firmly among their neighbors, as a certain amount of pressure on the sides is essential to keep the boards from warping. care must be taken, however, not to wedge them in too tightly; such a cure is worse in its effects than the disease. the usual method of removing a book from the shelf is to hook a finger into the top of the back, or head-cap, and pull. paper or cloth backs are often torn at the top in this way. it is far preferable to reach in with the hand and push the book out from the fore-edge or, at least, to tilt it outward by a slight pressure of several fingers on the top beyond the head-band. if the shelves are lined with velvet, as elsewhere suggested, it will be necessary to lift the heavier books into place when returning them to the shelves; if they are shoved in on the lower edges of the boards the velvet will follow them in. books in delicate bindings or fragile covers may often, with advantage, be fitted with slip-covers of silk, cloth, japan vellum, or even soft, heavy paper. these covers are simple and easy to make, but they can be used only when the condition of the book will permit both boards to bend backward without injury, while slipping the cover on or off. (fig. a.) covers of this kind, made of leather and provided with a label on the back, are especially adaptable to paper-covered books which, for any reason, one may wish to preserve in their original wrappers without rebinding. [illustration: fig. a] book-worms are practically unknown in america, but should active traces of these be found in a book the volume should be isolated at once and placed in a tight box with cotton well moistened with ether. several treatments of this kind, at intervals of two or three days, will kill any worms or eggs. snuff or tobacco, to be renewed at intervals, placed along the back of the shelves, is said to discourage worms or other insects. worm holes in old books may sometimes be filled in, if one has time for the operation, with a paste obtained by boiling down shreds of paper in sizing. the writer has an edition of homer printed at basel in , in which a worm hole varying in size from one-eighth inch in diameter downwards, and extending through nearly one hundred sheets, has been filled in so carefully on each sheet, in this way, that the repair is noticeable only on the closest inspection. moths should never be allowed to breed in the cases. were it not for increasing this danger the shelf lining mentioned above could be made of felt instead of velvet, the former being, otherwise, a more satisfactory material for the purpose. while it is only in extremely large collections, where books are left undisturbed for years, that worms, moths, dust, and other enemies of books obtain enough of a foothold to do any serious damage, the careful supervision of even a small collection may sometimes prove of unexpected preventive value and, in any case, the slight extra trouble involved is in no sense a wasted effort. the collector will also find it convenient to catalogue the books in his cases, preferably by means of a card-index system. cards three by five inches usually will be found large enough to hold a fair description. each card should be headed with the author's name, for convenience in indexing, followed by the book title, an exact transcript of the title-page or colophon, a description of the illustrations, if any, the size and the binding, and any bibliographical notes of interest. the price paid for the book, written in cipher, and the date purchased, should also be added. the matter of correctly noting the size of books for such a catalogue or index is one to which the amateur will be obliged to give a certain amount of study, and he will find, among bookmen, wide differences of opinion as to the proper methods to follow. for all ordinary purposes, the descriptions of folio, where the sheets are folded into two; quarto ( to), where the sheets are folded into four; eight sizes of octavo ( vo), from fcap. to imperial, where the sheets are folded into eight; duodecimo ( mo); and sextodecimo ( mo) will be found sufficient. speaking generally, a to will have a page signature at the foot of every fourth page, an vo at the foot of every eighth page, a mo at the foot of every fourth or twelfth page, etc. the old standard for octave sizes (measured on the edge of the pages, not the boards), which may safely be followed, is given in the table below. the sizes will be found to vary somewhat, where the book has been trimmed or where the paper used has been of an odd size. table of octavo sheets, folded: - / " x " fcap vo " x - / " crown vo - / " x - / " post vo - / " x " demy vo " x - / " vo - / " x " roy vo - / " x - / " imp vo chapter vii _book buying_ [illustration: kelmscott press book] as by far the greater portion of rare and desirable books to be had in america from time to time are sent over from england and the continent by dealers' agents, it follows that the amateur collector in this country must depend largely on dealers for his supply of books. except at auctions, there are comparatively few opportunities of buying at first-hand, although rare items of american printed books are sometimes unearthed and, in the old book stores of the larger cities, bargains are not uncommon. these latter, however, are usually limited, at best, to picking up some good first edition of a modern author, worth, perhaps, five dollars, and carelessly marked, with numbers of other books, at about twenty-five cents. better fortune sometimes attends. for example, one may sometimes find a really rare and valuable book which, in dim but inadequate realization of its value, has been marked higher than its neighbors--perhaps up to about one-tenth of its real value. such an incident, however, is among the exceptions. in any case, the stories of wonderful finds in years past, along the quays of paris or in the stalls of london are, for the american at least, almost like romances which could never come true. in buying from dealers, especially those who specialize in rare books, it is often, unfortunately, necessary that the bibliophile of moderate means, to whom these pages are particularly addressed, is obliged to pause before the price of some much desired volume. his buying problems are much more complex than those of his wealthy fellow-collector, to whom price is little object, since he must not only hunt out the volumes he wants, but also copies priced reasonably to be within his reach. blessed, indeed, is the willing self-denial which produces the ransom of a good book, at the expense of the ephemeral luxuries of life! but under such conditions it is essential that the amateur have a fairly complete knowledge of the value of books, particularly along his own special lines, in order that he may not be driven to unnecessary hardships through paying unjustly high prices for his treasures. while the prices of books vary greatly, according to condition and binding, they also vary to an astonishing extent with various dealers. the prices marked by some dealers are often high for certain kinds of books and low for others. bargains often may be secured from the dealer who marks his books, not according to their present market value, but according to the price he himself paid for them, since it follows, naturally, that a bargain for him is a bargain for his customer. information of this kind, in respect to particular dealers, is very valuable to the amateur who visits their shops, but he often gains it only after considerable experience. cautious buying, so often sneered at, is, nevertheless, essential, and the amateur bibliophile owes to himself not only complete information as to the "right" editions of books, but also a thoroughly developed knowledge and judgment which will enable him to value books with fair accuracy. he must realize that in many cases the dealer is wily and seductive; moreover, his wares plead for themselves to trouble the heart of the hesitating purchaser. he also must develop a certain amount of guile, and must be able to harden his heart, if necessary, against all appeal. this is one of the most difficult of all things to do, and is the triumph of knowledge over ingenuousness and of reason over bibliomania. to the collector of moderate means, even though his library be small, his books represent a certain form of investment, fairly secured. it has been pointed out by mr. j. h. slater, editor of the english "book prices current," that books bought as an investment are not really so, because to be a good investment they would have constantly to increase in value to equal the income from the purchase price, had it been invested in another way. this increase in value, however, often actually takes place, and in a fair sized collection of books, judiciously gathered, the abnormal increase in the value of some volumes will help to balance the sluggishness or depreciation of others. the bibliophile, however, may well rest content, and consider himself well repaid for his efforts to buy carefully, if the value of his collection as a whole remains equal to the sum total of his expenditures, and he may accept the pleasures of possessing and reading the volumes in lieu of interest on the investment. to get a general idea of the run of prices, the collector should obtain as many priced dealers' catalogues as possible and study these carefully, in making comparisons noticing any description of condition or binding which might account for a difference in price between two copies of the same work catalogued by different dealers. he should also study the volumes of "book prices current," both the english and american editions, which are issued each year to subscribers and may be found at almost any large public library. these books, for each year, give the prices realized at auction during the year before, for all books which brought over three dollars. these prices, however, must be considered with caution, as they do not always represent true values, particularly in reference to sales in great britain, where the operation of dealer's "knockout" cliques, conspiring to keep prices low, except on items where collectors bid direct, has been the cause of much scandal. advance catalogues of books to be sold at auction will be mailed by the auction houses, on request. at auctions free from suspicion of unfairness, the amateur will often find it to his advantage to buy, since he generally has a certain amount of advantage over the dealer, not being obliged to buy books so low that he may sell again at a good profit. he need anticipate little difficulty in competition over books of moderate value, provided he has taken the trouble thoroughly to inform himself as to the correctness of the edition he proposes to buy and is able intelligently to collate, either before the sale or immediately afterward. with items of considerable importance, it is sometimes a better plan for several reasons, under present auction conditions, to place the bid in the hands of a well-known, reliable dealer who will bid in the book for a small commission on the price paid, and who will assume responsibility for the book being correct and perfect as represented in the catalogue. books handsomely and elaborately bound, especially when bearing the imprint of some famous binder, generally command prices at auction and from dealers, rather in excess of their true value. there is always a ready market for such books among wealthy collectors. a desired book with the pages in good condition, but in a shabby binding, can generally be bought, and then equally well bound by a competent binder, at a saving under the price of another copy already resplendent in crushed levant. on the other hand, a book in an elaborately jeweled binding of excessive value often sells at auction for less than the original cost of the binding. a book bound by such a celebrated binder as roger payne will hold its value while the binding remains solid, with little dependence on the contents of the book itself. these remarks, however, as all remarks about auction prices must be, are only general, for the varying state of supply and demand is often met with in extremes in the auction room. as the market value of books changes constantly, and depends not only on varying rarity, but also on demand, it is necessary that the collector have some idea as to what constitutes rarity, and the conditions governing demand. for this a considerable amount of study is necessary. it has been pointed out that rarity itself does not make for value, if there is no demand. an unique copy of a book is necessarily rare, but if no one wants it, it will not bring a price in proportion to its scarcity. this is a hard rule which one must apply, and a rule often unjust to the books themselves. yet, while there are many books of great merit slowly disappearing from the world because of neglect, it is also true that the books most in demand and commanding the highest prices in first or early editions are, in the main, books of great intrinsic merit, well known and, for one reason or another, justly famous. the bibliophile must judge for himself as best he may, what books indicate by their nature and celebrity a permanent value and what books command excessive prices for the moment simply because of inflated interest and demand. conditions governing market value change in large, general movements, often affecting whole classes of books. as an example, one may note the comparatively high prices paid a century or more ago for early editions of the greek and latin classics, while treasures of early english literature sold for a few shillings; while at the present time these conditions are almost entirely reversed and some almost unique classic volume in extraordinary condition is required to create much of a sensation. it may be remarked here, however, that the early classics, the foundation of our present language, should have a permanent value, if such an attribute can be rightly assigned to any books at all, and it may be assumed that almost certainly the day will come when these early and important works will again be in great demand and will bring prices all the higher because of the scarcity which has accrued to them in the meantime through the loss, in one way or another, of many of the extant copies. the greatest care is necessary in purchasing modern editions, especially of modern authors, as the number of modern books and editions, whether the books be good, bad or indifferent--the latter two adjectives usually applying, unfortunately--present an extremely complex field from which only great foresight will select books of merit which will be sought after several generations hence. the amateur should also observe with a certain amount of suspicion books printed in very "limited" editions, with a view of establishing immediate rarity, permitting himself an interest only in those of obvious merit, where the limited edition is not necessitated by limited demand, and avoiding those books so printed of which previous editions much in demand have been issued. privately printed books in limited editions, such as the books issued by the villon society, which include john payne's important translations from the french and italian, and the various issues of the kama shastra society[ ], in which sir richard burton, the gifted orientalist, was actively interested, being not only first editions and of marked literary merit, but also books fairly certain to be in demand, and rare, may generally be considered of sound value and interest. books from famous private presses, examples of the highest state of typography of their time, such as the kelmscott press books printed by william morris, or books printed by some famous printer, such as john baskerville, of birmingham, are almost certain to increase substantially in value in the long run over their present-day prices and are, moreover, delightful books to have. to be properly considered with the general subject of buying, are the special copies of volumes known as "association books." these are unique copies, connected in some direct way with the author or with some prominent personage. because of the sentimental interest attached, these usually command high prices. included under this heading are presentation copies with inscriptions by the author, the author's own copy of his book, generally with autograph corrections, and books with autograph annotations by some contemporary or later, but equally famous, person or author. there is no standard by which to judge the proper value of such special copies as they are unique, and such copies may change hands several times at close intervals with a considerably varying but generally increasing price. copies of this kind are generally held at high ransom by dealers, especially in the "high rent districts" of our large cities, and the amateur bibliophile is wiser to hope merely that, as sometimes happens, chance may throw such copies, until that time unrecognized as such, into his hands without extra premium. dealers, and even collectors, often attempt to establish an association value in a book by inserting autograph letters or signatures of the author; but such volumes, although thus made of considerable interest, obviously cannot properly be considered under this heading. chapter viii _the greek and latin classics_ [illustration: black letter virgil] the collections of first and early editions of the greek and latin classics in the original which, a century or two ago, formed the backbone of nearly all collections of note, have since, as mentioned elsewhere, lost much of their interest for the bibliophile. a rare, uncut editio princeps of homer may still produce from its sale, as in dibdin's day, "a little annuity," and perhaps an annuity which would have made dibdin gasp; but this volume may possibly be considered an exception. the present practical neglect of the greek and latin languages, except as college exercises, may in a certain measure be responsible for the modern lack of interest in the original classics, since the bibliophile may be pardoned, in a sense, for not buying books in which his interest is limited to possession and which he is unable to read with any degree of satisfaction. the past three hundred years of english literature, however, have produced a great number of translations from these classics, the best, no doubt, being made by men of independent income with the ability and leisure to turn their hands toward such work. a careful sifting of these translations, therefore, might very well furnish the bibliophile who is inclined toward such reading with a library of classics easily readable in good, accurate translation. the cost of such a collection would be comparatively moderate, and if care were taken in the selection to obtain first or early editions of the translations recognized as having the best literary qualities, there is little reason to doubt that the collection would have a very positive value. the subject is, perhaps, interesting enough to justify a few details. the principal stumbling block, and that which renders the ordinary published "classic" libraries of doubtful value, is the delicate question of expurgation and that of abridgment. any translation is, at best, a substitute; but an incomplete one is worse than none at all. there are, however, a few volumes in which the collector will be interested, which will be obtained, in all their original naïvete, only with difficulty. suppose a nucleus for such a collection were to be assembled. one would, of course, begin with homer. the best translation in prose is by andrew lang and others; the iliad, ; the odyssey, . the most readable verse translation is that by william cullen bryant, in four volumes, boston, - . this version, unfortunately, gives the roman form of the names of the greek gods--a concession to unnecessary corruption--but is otherwise very faithful. after homer, perhaps plato's dialogues, of which the best translation is that by b. jowett, in five volumes, oxford, , third edition, revised, . and of plutarch's lives, which follows naturally, the translation called dryden's, revised by clough, five volumes, boston and london, . virgil, from the latins, would accompany these, and of this, a good translation is dryden's also, revised this time by john carey, in three volumes, london, . a much rarer edition is the "aeneidos" of thomas phaer, london, , with several reprints, in small black letter. as a souvenir of lovely sicily, we would require, of course, the pastorals of theocritus, of which the best translation is that in prose by andrew lang, london, . in this rendering two passages of about two lines each are left untranslated, but the omission is too slight to be serious. the same volume also contains the poems of bion and moschus. a good verse translation is that by c. s. calverley, cambridge (england), . with theocritus we must read sappho, "the poetess," the ancients called her, as they called homer "the poet." meleager, in the poem of his "garland" of verse, says that he includes "of sappho's only a few but all roses." and so, indeed, are the few precious fragments which have come down to us. all the known fragments of this poetess, even mere references or quotations of a word or a phrase from ancient writers, which have survived, have been gathered by h. t. wharton, who gives in his little volume called sappho, the greek text and a literal translation of each fragment, together with various verse translations of interest. the first edition of this book appeared in , the third and definite edition in . both were published in london; the former by david stott, the latter by john lane. of anacreon's lyrics, only a few fragments remain. the anacreontea were translated by thomas stanley, london, ; reprinted by lawrence and bullen, london, . the reprint may be had on japan vellum and on vellum. of the greek anthology, the famous collection of greek epigrams composed between about b. c. and a. d. , there are many volumes of translated "selections." the best and most poetic, although the rendering is in prose, is that by j. w. mackail, london, , revised and . the greater part of the anthology, which contains over three thousand five hundred epigrams, was translated into readable verse by major robert mcgregor, london, , but the spirit of this rendering is indifferent. a complete translation into prose of the entire anthology, omitting only the ultra-erotic and paederastic epigrams, is now in process of publication in five volumes by heinemann, london. this would be, when complete, the most desirable all-around translation were it not for the bald and unpoetic literalness of the rendering; of which, as an instance, one could note the passage in the two hundred and twenty-fifth amatory epigram, which might be translated, "i have a wound of love which never heals * * *"; but which is rendered, "my love is a running sore * * *" with the poets, catullus must be included; the best and only complete translation is that by richard f. burton and leonard smithers, london, privately printed, . this volume gives the latin text, a complete prose rendering by smithers, and a characteristic verse rendering by burton. in the latter, some erotic passages are missing, due, according to lady burton's statement, to an incomplete manuscript. among the dramatists there are aeschylus, whose tragedies were translated in verse by r. potter, london, , and sophocles, whose tragedies were translated by the same hand, london, . edward fitzgerald's rendering of the agamemnon of aeschylus, london, , which does not, however, pretend to be a close translation, may well be included for the unusual beauty of its verse. the comedies of terence have had several translators. the best close rendering is that in prose, privately printed by the "roman society," in two volumes, - . copies of this translation are scarce, as the edition was limited to two hundred and sixty copies. aristophanes is, of course, essential, but of the eleven comedies of his which are extant, there is only one complete translation, that privately printed under the imprint of the "athenian society," in two volumes, london, , and limited to six hundred and twenty-five copies. these comedies have, perhaps, no equal in all literature, except in rabelais, and the translation mentioned not only does them full justice, although in prose, but also furnishes exhaustive and illuminating notes necessary for the full understanding of all the humor. four of the comedies were translated into admirable verse by j. h. frere, malta, , and are well worth having, although, of course, aristophanes' frequent and characteristic "obsceneties" are omitted. among the satirists we have the latins, martial and juvenal, and the greek lucian. the best martial in english is the "ex otio negotium" of r. fletcher, london, , reprinted in an edition of one hundred and five copies in . only selected epigrams are given, those selected being rendered rather freely, but there is no semblance of emasculation and the essential genius of translation is present. a good juvenal is the verse translation by robert stapylton, london, . a fair prose rendering, with the latin text, is found in an anonymous translation issued, with sheridan's translation of persius, in . of lucian's many works, there are almost innumerable translations, nearly all of which are expurgated. a good rendering of selected dialogues is that by howard williams, london, bell. the "true history," which contains, as might be expected, the wildest flights of imagination, was translated by francis hickes, london, ; privately reprinted in a limited edition, with the greek text, in . the immortal "golden ass" of lucius apuleius is attractive in the quaint elizabethan version of william adlington, of which five editions in small black letter were printed between and . a modern reprint was issued by david nutt, london, in . the translation is not always accurate, but it is sufficiently so and it is particularly treasured as a fine specimen of the prose of that period. apuleius exists in complete translation in the rendering by f. d. byrne, printed in paris in , in a limited and private edition. the edition has numerous indifferent plates, and was reprinted, in incomplete translation, with several plates omitted, under a london imprint, of the same date. the translation reads rather more easily than the rendering by thomas taylor, london, , and includes the erotic passages which, like all similar passages in the classics, are incorporated with ingenuous shamelessness and are, as might be expected, quite harmless. for taylor's translation, these "passages suppressed" were supplied on separate sheets. among the "impudiques et charmants," as pierre louys calls them, must be mentioned the famous satyricon of petronius, of which charles carrington has printed the only complete translation, with his own imprint, paris , in an edition of five hundred and fifteen copies, since reprinted. the first edition bears a slip attributing the translation to oscar wilde, but the work has not the slightest internal evidence to support this. also the "priapeia" a collection of latin epigrams of the best period, all bearing on the god priapus. two hundred and fifty copies of a translation of this small anthology were issued by the erotika biblion society, "athens" . notes on various subjects occupy more than half the volume. of the early romances, the most desirable is doubtless the "daphnis and chloe" of longus who wrote early in the christian era. this work has been said to belong more to french than to greek literature, so enthusiastically was it adopted in france; and, in fact, the first printed edition of the work, translated by bishop amyot in , preceded the editio princeps of the greek text by forty years. a great many french editions have been printed, some with charming illustrations. the edition with notes by a. pons and vignettes by scott, paris, quantin , gives a full french translation of the greek text and an exhaustive bibliography in an attractive format. the only complete translation in english is that issued to subscribers by the athenian society in . this athenian society issued to two hundred and fifty legitimate subscribers, between the years and , seven volumes of complete translations from the greek, of which several volumes, like the longus, were the first complete translations into english. on account of the very limited issue, the volumes are very scarce, especially in sets. the complete issue was as follows: lucian: the ass. dialogues of courtesans. amores.--procopius: anecdota.--alciphron: letters.--longus: daphnis and chloe.--heliodorus: three books of the Ã�thiopica.--achilles tatius: four books of the loves of cleitophon and leucippe.--aristophanes: the acharnians. the knights. the clouds. the volumes also included the greek text. the general subject of classic translations is an interesting one and capable of almost infinite expansion. one might form a very imposing collection of books by merely gathering editions of daphnis and chloe, for instance. but the bibliophile, whether he collects greek and latin translations, or books on angling, can perhaps best follow his own taste and judgment, when once he has secured a nucleus from which to start, and fairly understands the possibilities--and limitations--of his subject. these books--thin boards and sheets of fragile paper--have lived while countless men have died; through the rise and fall of princes; through wars and ruin and tempests. other hands, long since forgotten, have cared for them and kept them safely. now they are here in trust with me; and i, in my turn, linger over them, hoping that other owners, yet unborn, may treat them gently as i, and those before, have done. index association books, auctions, autographs in books, , , autograph letters in books, back, lining up, , back, shaken or broken, binding, cheap, elaborate, original, , , bleaching, , book-worms, books as an investment, book sizes, catalogues, cataloguing, collating, corners, repairing, , covers (leather), cleaning, patching, polishing, , restoring, transferring, dealers, dusting, , edges, cleaning, gilt or uncut, finishing new back, gilt, removing, restoring, glaire, hinges, repairing, ink, brightening autographs in, removing, , , inlaying covers, inlaying pages, inlays, tinting, kama shastra society, leather for bindings, , leather paste for inlays, light, effect on books of, limited editions, lining up backs, marginal ms notes, margins, trimming, modern editions, niger morocco, old paper imitated, pages, repairing torn, paste for repairs, presentation copies, , , preservative for leather, preservative polish, privately printed books, rarity of books, rebacking, tools for, rebinding, best leather for, directions for, for amateurs, price of, , when advisable, report of the committee on leather for bookbinding, , re-tinting, sewing, shelves, lining for, , sizing, , slip-cases, slip-covers, spots, small, , stains, stains of blood, egg yellow, fecal matters or urine, fruit juice, grease, , ink, , , mud, sealing-wax or resin, stearine, tar and pitch, unknown origin, white or yellow wax, tools, making, tooling, , tooling, restoring old, transferred impressions, varnish for bindings, vellum bindings, cleaning, velvet for shelves, , washing, , footnotes: [ ] m. r. yve-plessis in his "petit essai de biblio-therapeutique" suggests an excellent way of preparing a paper patch for an inlay. which is, to lay the paper from which the patch is to be taken under the torn page and trace the outlines of the tear on the new paper with a clean pen filled with water. by tracing over several times, the water will saturate the new paper on the line made by the pen, so that the paper may be pulled apart, providing a patch having more exact outlines than could be secured by cutting with scissors. [ ] in paul louis courier discovered at florence a complete manuscript of daphnis and chloe, containing a long passage in part i which was missing in all texts known until that time, and the existence of which, as a connecting passage, had long been a subject of speculation among scholars. unfortunately, he had hardly more than completed a transcript of his discovery when he accidentally upset a bottle of ink over the original manuscript, partly obliterating the passage. the incident caused a bitter controversy among scholars. courier was violently attacked and, although he had fifty copies of his text printed for special distribution, was even accused of purposely spilling the ink in order to render his transcript unique. m. s. b. [ ] m. r. yve-plessis, elsewhere quoted, suggests that it may sometimes be desirable to strengthen the ink of some valuable and desirable signature, instead of removing it, and for this purpose recommends a mixture of: tannin, six grammes; alcohol, thirty-five grammes; distilled water, one hundred grammes; applied with a small brush and the part afterwards brushed over several times with clear water. this operation, however, should certainly not be undertaken except in extreme cases where the signature appeared ready to entirely fade out. m. s. b. [ ] in a note on this subject, bonnardot warns the amateur against careless or unskilful use of the various chemicals mentioned, as many of them, improperly handled, not only irreparably damage the page or print, but also inflict serious injury on the operator himself. m. s. b. [ ] after sheets have been cleaned by soaking or washing, they should be re-sized. sizing is made by dissolving half an ounce of isinglass in a pint of water. the mixture is used at a temperature of about one hundred and twenty-five degrees fahrenheit and in a shallow pan. sheets are left in for a few seconds only and then dried between sheets of blotting paper. sizing will often restore old paper which has become soft. m. s. b. [ ] potassium permanganate, described in the chapter on _general restoration_, is applicable for this operation. in operating on a spot on the page of a bound book, care should be taken always to place two or three sheets of clean blotting paper under the page to prevent any liquid from soaking through to the next page. m. s. b. [ ] applied with a brush, first around the outside of the spot, then in narrowing circles until the centre is reached. blotting paper is then placed on both sides of the sheet, over the spot, and a hot flat-iron applied. the absorbent powder ("french chalk" answers very well) will operate better if the powdered sheet is enclosed simply between two pieces of paper, and a hot flat-iron applied. plenty of powder should be used. m. s. b. [ ] before and after using oxalic acid on ink stains, it is best to wash the spot or page with hydrochloric acid mixed with about seven times its volume of water. in bleaching ink from a page, a white mark almost always remains, especially noticeable if the paper is tinted with age. it is far better to soak the whole page, to secure uniform bleaching, and then, if necessary, retint the page to its former color, than to attempt to operate on part of a page only. sometimes, when a book is loosely bound, the page can be carefully cut out, close to the sewing, and pasted in again when it has been washed and dried as desired. this is, however, a questionable practice, and may seriously injure the value of the book, and on a valuable book it is better to cut the sewing and remove the entire signature, then have the book rebound, or resewn and returned to the old covers, as may be most advisable. m. s. b. [ ] bonnardot mentions several processes for bleaching a print, equally applicable to the same operation on the pages of a book. i translate the process which seems to be the simplest and most effective. it will be noted that he does not mention the size of the bottle in which the amount of chemical he advises is to be dissolved. i would suggest a full quart bottle, and also that the amateur operator thoroughly try the effect of his solution on some old pieces of paper to make sure it is too weak to injure the body of the paper. m. s. b. [ ] bonnardot, at this point, discusses in considerable detail various opinions as to the removal of these iron oxide stains, but without coming to any definite conclusion except that they are "of all stains, the most tenacious." experiments in chemistry, especially upon any binding of value, should not be lightly undertaken. the use of water-colors for retinting the spot of yellowish bleach might be tried with more safety and a greater possibility of success. m. s. b. [ ] certain bindings of the sixteenth century have on their covers designs in tint formed simply of water colors. in such cases, the flour paste should not be used, or else the designs should first be accurately traced so that they can be restored, if necessary, after the operation. [ ] centigrade, i. e. ninety-seven to one hundred and four degrees fahrenheit. m. s. b. [ ] at the beginning. m. s. b. [ ] the best modern practice in making glaire is to beat up the white of an egg with about half its quantity of vinegar, allowing the mixture to stand over night. this mixture, covered, will keep for several days, or until it gets thick and cloudy. m. s. b. [ ] unbroken surfaces of white vellum can easily be cleaned with a soft pencil-eraser. a vellum binding which is "tacky" may be rubbed over with powdered soapstone after cleaning. m. s. b. [ ] whiting (chalk) used as a pigment. m. s. b. [ ] one hundred and fifty-eight degrees fahrenheit. m. s. b. [ ] this operation does not seem entirely clear, but the idea is evidently to fold a thin strip of the skin into a "v" shape, inserting the strip, folded edge up or down, as the condition of the hinge may require, into the broken hinge all along its length, gluing the arms of the "v," one to the back and one to the cover to form a new, folded hinge. the operator will probably find, however, that when the hinges of a book are broken through a better and more lasting procedure is to reback the book. gold-beaters skin is the outside membrane of the large intestine of the ox, properly prepared. where the hinges of a book are broken, it is better to provide new leather hinges, using strips about half an inch wide slipped in under the broken edges and carried over the edge of the boards at top and bottom. raise the broken edges, for the proper distance, from back and boards, and paste down again over the new hinge. m. s. b. [ ] to prevent wear on the lower corners and edges of books in the library, strips of velvet may be laid along the shelves under the books. if this is done, the little extra care required in removing and replacing the books without wrinkling up the velvet will be more than offset by the protection which the velvet gives. m. s. b. [ ] gilding, especially if modern, is apt to soften and come off if rubbed with water. m. s. b. [ ] see my remarks on lining up with japan vellum in the chapter on _general restoration_. m. s. b. [ ] in this place, bonnardot gives a few simple suggestions for repairing broken fragments of the gold tooling. the amateur is cautioned not to attempt the application of hot gilding tools and gold leaf to any binding for which he has any regard unless he has carefully prepared himself by thoroughly studying the detailed directions for this work which may be found in text-books on binding, and by extensive practice on odd pieces of various leathers. m. s. b. [ ] all set, of course, in wooden or pottery handles. wooden handles for such tools, or the tools themselves, may be procured at moderate prices from dealers in bookbinders' materials. m. s. b. [ ] the impression should first be made on the leather by the hot tool, without gold, and painted with glaire. when the glaire is nearly dry, a fragment of gold-leaf is picked up on a pad of cotton wool slightly touched with cocoanut oil and pressed down on the blind impression of the tool. the tool is then pressed into its former impression, setting the gold. the process is very delicate; the tool must be perfectly clean and the gold-leaf, which is very difficult to handle, worked from a padded cloth dusted with brick-dust, or a similar substance, to prevent the leaf from adhering there while it is being cut to the proper size. m. s. b. [ ] wax would, of course, be used hot. m. s. b. [ ] as mentioned in a note above, gold may often be loosened by merely removing the varnish and thoroughly moistening with water, after which the metal may be coaxed out with a thin, smooth, wooden splinter, preferably wound on the end with a bit of cotton wool. m. s. b. [ ] or: gilt edges. (this requires, in many cases, considerable trimming all around.) or: bottom and fore edges gilt on uncut edges. (this is a more expensive process and a rather delicate one. it is not in general use.) [ ] it is often difficult to persuade a binder to sew on flat bands or outside cords. the usual, and easiest method is to saw into the backs of the signatures and lay the cords in the "v" shaped cut thus made. this method of sewing should be protested against unless the book has already been so treated in a former binding and no additional cutting is required. most of the raised bands found on modern bindings are "false," being in no way an essential part of the binding and serving no practical purpose. even their use as guides for decoration is doubtful, as they tend to unnecessary convention. [ ] on a valuable book in an expensive binding, the end papers should be sewn in. this means extra trouble for the binder and calls for a little extra charge. end papers are very seldom sewn in on modern bindings, although often so secured in bindings of a century or two ago. [ ] this society has been credited--or otherwise--with so many volumes, chiefly of an erotic nature, which it never issued, that a list of the genuine volumes, issued with the authority and consent of sir richard burton, may be of interest. these are: kama sutra, of vatsyayana, ; amanga ranga, of kalyana mall, ; the beharistan, of jami, ; the gulistan, of sa'di, ; alf laylah wa laylah (the book of the thousand nights and a night), ten volumes, ; supplemental nights to the book of the thousand nights and a night, six volumes, - . these volumes are all listed in a four page folder, which accompanied vol. , of the supplemental nights. the folder mentions two other volumes in preparation; the nigaristan of jawini, and the scented garden, of the shaykh al-nafzawi. the former translation was never issued; the latter translation, made by sir richard himself, was burned in ms by his wife, shortly after his death. the only translation of al-nafzawi bearing the kama shastra society imprint, was issued in , in white vellum, uniform with the other single volumes listed above with the title of the perfumed garden. this translation, which was made through a french version, is described, and practically acknowledged as a book of the society, in a foot-note on page , vol. , of the nights. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. the following misprints have been corrected: "is" corrected to "it" (page ) "or" corrected to "of" (page ) "prefessional" corrected to "professional" (page ) "effact" corrected to "effect" (page ) "tranlsated" corrected to "translated" (page )