^^mm^^^^m^mi THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES "gSij-SiJaps Jlmong '^ooh^ BY-WAYS AMONG BOOKS BY DAVID J. MACKENZIE Advocate, F.S.A. Scot. WICK: W. RAE 1900 ■ ^ PB.INTED AT THE NORTHEKN ENSIGN OFFICE, 'WICK TN 311 PREFACE THE following papers, with the exception of the first and the last, have been delivered in the form of lectures — that on John Keats in aid of the building fund of the Wick Public Library, and the others under the auspices of the ''Shetland Literary and Scientific Society." D. J. M. 77573'^ CONTENTS I. Florentius Volusenus 1 II. Books and Book-Hunting 34 III. John Keats 65 IV. Romance 96 V. Trade and Commerce in Ancient Times .... 119 VI. O.v Some Italian Poets 150 VII. An Elizabethan " Endymion " 186 FLORENTIUS YOLUSENUS -e incntionr-d a mi)Mt intcrrsting riion<);;ia|)li printed many yearn ago )>y a rcHitected mcmljur of a literary society in the town of hiu birtii. 2 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS tlian it should be even by the south-country Scotsman, who may be astonished to learn that, " at the back of the north wind," there lies a province that is earlier in its season than regions much nearer the sun. George Buchanan (whose Hebrew Lexicon lies in the Edin- burgh University Library with this autograph on it, " Georgius Buchananus. Ex munificentia Florentii Voluseni") bears testimony to the amenities of the province of IMoray — to its mild skies, its rich pastures, and its wealth of fruits. Bishop Lesley, too, who was a contemporary of our author, tells of its meadows and wheat fields, frequent groves, SAveet-smelling wild flowers, and teeming apple gardens, over all which lay a sky whose breezes were healthful and whose clouds were rare. Amid such scenes the philosopher of tranquillity was born. There are some difficulties, however, in connec- tion with the next notable event, namely, his christening. It may seem absurd to confess that the very name of our hero is a matter of doubt, but such, unfortunately, is the case. One thing is certain, viz., that he called him- self, and was known in the learned world as, Florentius Voluzenus or Volusenus. This, of course, was a Lati- nised version of his surname, adopted in accordance with the usage of the authors of his day. But a Latinised version of what ? Some suggest Wolsey, some Wilson. Awkwardly, however, for both, Florence himself signs a letter, written in the pure vcnacular, " Florence Volu- zene," and a French contemporary calls him Volusen. No such name, so far as we are aware, occurs in this country ; and the nearest to it is certainly Wilson, FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 3 which, in old French, was Vulson. Moreover, as some of his biographers have remarked, Florence had doubt- less become so thoroughly identified with his nom de plume that he kept as close to it as possible, even when, for the time, he had dropped his Latiuity. That fami- lies of the name of Wilson did reside in the district which Florence has described as that of his boyhood, we learn fi-om the rent-roll of the Bishop of INIoray in 1565, wliere there are two Wilsons mentioned as paying rent in the neighbourhood of Spynie, one of whom is described as '' archicoquus," whatever that may have been. Florence Wilson, for so we shall call him, entered on boyhood at a time when grave events and great men made the history and the society of Scotland peculiarly interesting. The clear-headed, but sumptuous, and quixotic king was beginning to draw away from his brother-in-law of England and to bind himself closer to France. In the north-east there was extensive com- merce with continental ports ; the Scottish fleet was powerful and etficient ; the turbulent spirits of the Highlands were being gradually brought into subjection ; it was but the pause before the storm that reached its terrible catastrophe on Flodden field. The learning and literature of Scotland had reached one of its highest levels. William Dunbar was singing to his royal master of a nightingale — " With sugarctl iiotis new, Whose angel feathers an tlie peacock slione; This was her song, and of a sentence true — All love is lost but upon God alone," 4 FLORENTITTS VOLUSENUS Gavin Don^las Avas busy with his Scottish " Mneid," and Ilcnrysoun, the poet-schoohnastcr of Dunfermline, had just passed away — he who had sung — " Blissed be simple life witliouten dreid ; Blissed be sober feast in quiete." That Wilson's boyhood was a studious and happy one there can be little doubt. We may imagine him spelling out his first lessons in the " General School," as it was called, of Elgin, and filling his boyish mind with a deep love and reverence for the great church whose presence dominated all the little world in which he moved ; in whose long aisles he first shaped to himself the desire for tranquillity, and whose jewelled glass and flowering stone unquestionably elevated, softened, and refined a spirit which needed such influences less than most. There lay, too, within the field of his experience the stately society of a cathedral town — the bishop and his chapter, the preachers, and deacons, and all the dignitaries and paraphernalia of a great ecclesiastical centre. We may believe, too, tliat with his great love of natural scenery, he may often have wandered far on idle afternoons — with young John Ogilvie or another — up the garden-like valley where, in a hollow of the hill, the brown tower of Pluscarden rose over its marvellous fruit trees ; northwards to where, on the yellow sand flats, broke the clear green sea, and, beyond it, across the horizon, lay the majestic mountain line of the Sutherland and Caithness hills ; or along by the cave- hollowed, gull-haunted cliffs, till, towards evening, the sound might reach him of the three great bells of FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS Kinloss — ]Mary, Anna, and Jerome — ("magni ponderis ncc minus sonorac ") mingling tlicir call to lauds with the plangent voices of the sea. It is worth noticing that in the year 1506 a great and singular catastrophe had occurred in connection with Elgin Cathedral. The great central tower in that year suddenly fell, crushing and maiming tho beautiful building beneath it. Bishop Foreman, witli character- istic activity, at once began to rebuild the tower, which, however, was not finished till 1538, when the spire was completed at a height of 198 feet. This incident must have formed almost the starting point in "Wilson's childish recollections, and throughout his knowledge of the cathedral, it was probably in the hands of builders and restorers. An incident which Florence relates in his chief work, although it refers to a slightly later period — when he had finished his studies in Aberdeen, and was preparing for that vague voyage into the unknown world that so many poor young Scotsmen have taken — still may find a fitting place here, as it shows us the early bent of his genius. " ]Many years ago," he says, " before I oanic over into France, as I and John Ogilvie, who is now in tho Scotch Church at Crudcn, a man of distinguished family, and polislicd alike in manners and learning, sauntered together (for we were close comi)anions) along the banks of the river Lossie, the first of Horace's Satires — for he had Horace in his hand — ' Qui fifc jMaccerias, nt nemo,' &c., led us iuto talking uuc to the other of the storms and 6 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS troubles of this human Hfc." Ogilvie, who seems to have been the youuger of the two, turning to Wilson, prays him to shed some light on these questionings for their friendship's sake. "Come back to-morrow," he says, " if you love me. Come back here when the sun begins to fall. I will expect you here, on this bank, and meantime, you will consult all your philosophers, and will be able to tell me truly whether it is to ourselves alone, or the wrongness of things in general (vitio rerum), that the pain of the life-struggle is due." Of Wilson's pliilosophy, and tlie dream that came to him when he had bidden Ogilvie goodbye and gone home to rest and think, we shall have to speak again. It is worth while pausing a moment to remark that philosophy, and the resultant tranquillity of soul, were peculiarly needed in Scottish country society in the sixteenth century. Not only were life and property less secure than in our day, but the law itself was ad- ministered with a terrible severity. We have preserved to us by the Spalding Club, the register of the Regality Court of Spynie at a later period of the same century, and the picture it presents of violent crime and merciless punishment is one which Ave recoil from in dismay notwithstanding the quaint and curious pen with which it is drawn. We need hardly explain that a Regality was a feudal jurisdiction of the highest kind granted by the Crown to a subject, including both civil matters and the trial of all crimes, with the exception of treason. The whole lands of the Church in Moray were erected into a Regality in 1452, over which the Bishop held sway. After the Reformation, these powers and the FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 7 title of Lord Spynie were given by James VI. to Sir Alexander Lindsay by a letter dated " From the castell of Croueburg quhaire we are drinking and dryving ou'r in the auld manner." The Court, which was generally held in the *' Jewale Hous' " or " Chepdour of the Cathedrale Kirk of Murraye" (the most perfect frag- ment now remaining of these magnificent ruins), and sometimes "upon the Water Syd of Lossie," was presided over by the bailie of the Regality, and the proceedings were seemingly conducted v.'ith great precision and formality. The register is throughout accompanied by marginial notes such as "convict," " acquytis," " hangit," " drownit," "heidit." Theft, often accompanied by violence, was very common. The first recorded case of hanging was for being "ane common stelar of scheip furth of the haill countrey about ye." A man and his wife were indicted for the "thiftcous steling and consaling of twa scheip," and it is set forth that when the officer Avent to search the house, "thy wyf reife the officiar's handis and claithis and vald nocht hit him daker the suspect places of the hous." This officer, however, persisted, and succeeded in discovering various signs of tiie lost sheep, " togidder with four quliyt scheipis feit and four black scheipis feit upon the veschcll buird, togidder with ane quarter nmttone under the almarie." " As alswa thou, the said Christiane, ran away witii sum soddin muttoun in thy bosom quiiilk thy nychtljouris saw." This unlortunate coujjle were condennied " to be tane to Lossye and thair to be drownit quhill thai be deid." A man convicted of murder was sentenced to be " tuikin to the water syd of 8 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS Lossyc, and there his hcid to be strickin from liim." For various acts of theft, inchuling the " ressait of the half of ane broune cw," William Roy was condemned " to be had to the gallows beyond the Bischopmiln and thair to be hangit quhill he be deid." Against a background such as this, it is pleasing to contemplate the figures of these slim young students wandering by the green holms and winding river margins, and searching in Horatian numbers for some answer to " the riddle of the painful earth," But we must follow Wilson to Aberdeen. His biographies agree that it Avas in the newly founded University of that town that he laid the foundation of the learning which, later on, so much astonished the polished Sadolcto. It was indeed into a brilliant circle that the thoughtful boy Avas received. Some twenty years before, Bishop Elphinstone had obtained from the Pope powers for the constitution of a University, and it was not long before his conspicuous energy and zeal had not only i-aised the material fabric, part of which between its grey buttresses still shelters the learning of the north from the wild sea winds, but had gathered around him some of the choicest spirits of that great age. Elphinstone had been educated at the College of Montaigu in Paris, and it was but natural that his first teachers should be drawn from the same source. Hector Boycc, or Boefcius, the distinguished humanist, the correspondent of Erasmus and the historian of Scotland, was the first principal. Associated with him were William Hay, another Parisian student, John Vaus, ihc grammarian, and Arthur Boyce, the Principal's FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 3 brother, distingiiislicd in civil and canon law, and who eventually became a Lord of Session. That there was considerable intercourse between this seat of learning and the ecclesiastical society of Elgin cannot be doubted when we remember that the precentor of Elgin Cathedral wrote the introductory epistle to Boyce's History, and that the Archdeacon of IMoray, John Bellcnden, translated that history into Scottish prose, that Fcrrerius, some years later, was working in the same field in the Abbey of Kinloss, and that the Bishop of Moray was the clever and intriguing Forman, on whose shoulders has been laid the guilt of the fatal war with England, a man no less able in his way than the enlightened prelate of Aberdeen. With regard to Wilson's finding means to go to Aberdeen a suggestion occurs to us. Had the " archi- coquus" anything to do with it? Was he an elder brother, and in the Bishop's service at the Palace of Spynie, round which Florence's early memories seem to have hovered, and concerning which we shall have further suggestions to make ? Of Elphiustone himself, we have a charming picture presented to us by Boyce.^ " He was most splendid in the maintenance of his establishment, seldom sitting down to dinner without a great company of guests of the gentry, and always witli a well furnished table. In the midst of such temi)tati()ns, he himself abstemious, but cheerful in aspect, gay in conversation, took great delight in the arguments of the learned, in nmsic, and n decent wit; all ribaldry he detested. He had talent 1 Spal'liug Club, "Fasti Abcrdou." 10 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS and energy for any business of public or private life, and could adapt himself equally to civil or church affairs. He seemed of iron frame. ... In his eighty-third year, he discussed the weighty affairs of State more acutely than any man." One of the most striking features in the bishop's character was that of his " energy for any business." It will scarcely be believed that, in the midst of the hopes, and labours, and anxieties of establishing a great seat of learning, this extraordinary man found time to plan and commence the carrying out of one of the greatest public works of his time. " This was the bridge our Dee Which every man may mark ; Ane needful most, expensive great, A good and gallant wark ; Knit close with quadrat stones Free, all incised and shorne ; Of these the pend with arches sevine Supported is and borne. Scharp poynted buttresses Be both that breaks and byds The 230wer of the winter speats And strength of summer tyds." ^ Thus, having set up his shrine of learning in the far north, he made the path towards it smooth and safe. Of the precise course of study which Wilson pursued at Aberdeen it is, of course, impossible to speak ; but we know that there were men there qualified to teach not only Theology, but Canon and Civil Law, Medicine, and Arts. We have his own authority for saying that, for some years, he studied philosophy in his own 1 A. Garden, 1G19, traua. of Boyce, Spalding Club, FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 11 country ; and, if the coui-se of study was in his case what it appears to have been by the old records of the University, there can be no doubt of its thoroughness. The young college was, as might be expected, monastic in its constitution. Some of the students, however, appear to have lived outside its walls, only paying rent when they occupied its rooms. Five o'clock in the morning was the hour for rising, and at nine in the cveuins the relentless hebdomodar made his final round. At meal time, the bursars — wearing white leathern belts " in proof of obedience" — gave thanks and read a chapter of the Bible prescribed by the principal. No arms were allowed to be worn, no visits to the town permitted without leave, and (what seems more terrible than all, in these degenerate days) " all conversation was to be in Latin, Hebrew, or Greek." It is probable that after passing through his four years' course, Florence Wilson paid a visit to his Morayshire home, and spent much of his time, as we have seen, with young Ogilvie. This part of his life, however, is the nioist obscure of the whole ; and this fact is much to be regretted, since the next position in which we find him is the important one of tutor to the nephew of Cardinal Wolsey at the University of Paris. How the Morayshire youtli, with all his Aberdeen learning, could liave Wijrkcd his way into sucli a promising sitvuvtiun in such a far off quarter is only one of the many similar questions which arise, all over the world, where there are high places to be won. The inevitable Scotsman is found at the top, without deigning to explain how he got there. 12 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS It seems to be doubtful whetlier Wilson had gone to study at Paris before gaining this appointment, or had been selected by Wolsey to accompany his nephew to France. Elphinstone himself, his Principal, and his most eminent professors^ all hailed from the College of Montaigu in Paris, and there is every likelihood that it was by their advice, and possibly with their assistance, that Wilson went abroad. We know that there were bursaries for students coming from Morayshire "in ecclesia collegiata de Crychtoun Scoto Parisiis," but the great probability is that he went direct to the old school of his masters in the University. The date of his going is unknown, as are almost all the facts as to his position or career in the French capital. To any one engaged or interested in literature, even apart from politics or religion, it was a time of change and excitement. The great wave of the new learning, with all its undercurrents and side-swirls, was setting strongly and swiftly westward. The age of "retori- queurs " was nearly over, and the " Pleiadc " had not yet been formed. In the dearth of personal facts as to Wilson's stay in Paris (which lasted till about 1532) it may be permitted us to fill up the blank with a few notes on the life then led under the shadow of Notre Dame. The Scots College at Paris was founded in 1326 by the Bishop of Moray. Upon the close relations which long subsisted between France and Scotland we need not dwell. Nor need we recall the names of famous Scotsmen who there received that polish which was perhaps uot altogether unnecessary in the case uf the PLORENTIUS VOLITSENUS 13 big-boned but liard-lieaded lads who, with the sound of the Dee and the Spcy in their ears, found tlicmselves in the midst of the glittering tumult that filled the streets of Paris with colour and movement, with alternate bloodshed and song. The College of ISIontaigu, to which it is probable that "NYilson attached himself, had fallen, some forty years before, into something like ruin. Crevier^ tells us that in 1483 "tons les titres de cette maison ^toient perdus : il lui restoit h peine onze sols de rente : les batimcns tomboient en mines : on n'y voyait plus d'etudinns." But a restorer was at hand in the person of Jean Standonc, a man of singular force of character. We are told that owing to extreme poverty in his youth he was compelled to fill the humblest offices in the house of St. Genevieve, and yet educated himself by stealing up, after a laborious day, to the bell tower above ; and there reading all night by the light of the moon. When at length he rose to be Principal of the College of Montaigu, he resolved on setting it in order. By his own energy, and the lil)erality of some eminent friends, he rebuilt and finished the college and gathered in it no less than 84 bursars. The one great object which he set before him was the preservation of the benefits of the foundation to its original objects, namely, the poor. To effect this he took the plan of rendering the life of his scholars as hard and humiliating as possible. A terrible picture and yet a noble one is given of the domestic economy within the restored building. "On the commencement of his ride the scholars whom he 1 " Hi.stoirc de rUnivcraitu ile Paris." 14 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS instructed used to go to Cbartreux to receive along with paupers the bread vvliich the clergy distributed at the door of the convent. Everyone knovrs how frugal the nourishment of these youths was : bread, vegetables, eggs, herring, all in small quantity, and never any meat. In this austere life the scholars were compelled to practise all the fasts of the church, to follow the quadragesimal observance during Advent, to fast every Wednesday, and often on other particular occasions. Nothing could be poorer than their dress and bedding. They rose very early and chaunted many offices. Moreover they laboured at cooking, served the refectory, and swept out the halls, the chapel, the dormitory, and the stairs." This cruel and sordid regime provoked a remonstrance from one of the most distinguished of all those who had to undergo it. Erasmus, in one of his "Colloquies," complains bitterly of his miserable boy- hood, and tells us that in many cases this treatment resulted in blindness, madness, disease, and even death. As might have been expected, however, this strict rule did not continue long in its original form. By the time Wilson reached Paris, it had been considerably altered. Francis I. was King, and that wonderful age of new ideas and ancient splendours, of mingling sunset and sunrise which we call the rennaissance, was reaching its highest point. In looking over the chronicles of the University of Paris at this time, we find no events of supreme importance, but many disturbances, and a sort of grooving uneasiness. There is the " affaire du Concordat," the " aff"aire de Rcuchlin," and in 1520, the censure of Luther, whose doctrines began to insinuate FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 15 themselves, greatly to the indignation and alarm of the older authorities. One of these, in whose person or character one cannot help thinking there must have been something of the ludicrous, was Noel Beda, Principal of the College of jMontaigu. This reverend personage appears to have formed a butt for much juvenile wit on the part of the students. It was their custom on the " fete des Rois " to produce plays and comedies, " oti souvent les traits mordans et satjriques n'etoient pas epargnes." On the 5th of December, 1521, Beda complained to the heads of the University that he had been held up to ridicule. The result was that measures were taken for tlie suppression of these exhibitions, although these do not appear to have been very efficient, for in 1531 we find him again made fun of in a college play. A greater fame, however, was in store for him, for he had the distinction of evoking the gigantic laughter of Rabelais himself. One of the treatises found by Pantagruel in the library of St. Victor was " Beda — de Optiniate Triparnm." The election of rectors in the University appears to have been attended with some of the phenomena which we witness in Scotland to-day, along witii other characteristics which arc now happily absent. One of these elections, which took place in 1524, was the occasion of more than usual violence. Owing to signs of disturbance which early manifested themselves, the University presented a petition to Parliament that precautionary measures should be taken. " Le Parle- mcnt chargca Ic prevAt de I*aris ou son lieutenant criminel d'y tcnir le main. Cclui-ci se transporta done 16 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS le seize au matin avec des sergens arm^s a I'Eglise de St. Julien de Pauvre oh. devoit sc faire rdection, d'abord des Intrans, puis du Recteur. Fabri (a candidate) avoit aussi avoc lui des gens en armes, dont plusieurs n'^toient pas meme du corps de I'lJuiversite mais artisans, mdchaniques, et vile populace. Le tuniulte fut tel qu'on pouvoit I'attendre de sembables preparatifs, les portcs et fcnetres de I'Eglise furent brisees, le magistrat ne put se rendre le maitre, et le Recteur qui ^fcoit gagne, mauoeuvra si bien qu'il y eut uiie apparcncc d'clectiou raoyennant laqucllc, il installa Fabri. II est dit dans le proems que rindigne Recteur recut la promesse de vingt cinque 6cus qui lui fut faite et garantde sur I'autel de St. Julien. Un grande partie de la Faculte des Arts s'^toit retiree dans la Chapelle de S. Blaise qui dtoit voisine: et .k\, il se fit une autre election qui tomba sur Jean Favercl." The ultimate result does not concern us, but the evidence that we have here of violence and bribery is interesting in its place. In the year 1529, George Buchanan, then only 23 years of age, was elected procurator of the German nation, that is, the nation which included students of British nationahty. lie was regent in the College of St. Barbe, and it was probably during this period that the friendship between him and Wilson was formed. An event of great importance in the following year was the institution of Royal professors, that is, the foundation of the " College Royal " in Paris. This movement took its rise from the passionate love of the king for the ancient languages and his zeal for their cultivation. Some difficulties were interposed, but FLOEENTIUS VOLUSENUS 17 ultimately, a professorship of Greek and one of Hebrew- were created. We have the authority of ^Mackenzie, in his " Lives of Scottish Writers," for the fact that Bishop Dii Bellay nominated Wilson for the Greek chair, but, owing to his having fallen into disfavour at Court, was unable to bring his nomination to a successful issue. During the whole, or the greater part of his stay in Paris, Wilson was under the protection and supported by the bounty of John, Cardinal de Lorraine. Lidced, his whole manhood appears to have been passed in close relationship with the Princes of the church. No sooner does one disappear from his history than another takes his place. We have seen that Wolsey was the first to befriend him ; and whether the liberality of Lorraine was concurrent or no we cannot say, as all the facts of our hero's life have to be gathered from the most scattered and precarious sources. There docs, however, exist direct testimony from his last patron — Cardinal Sadoleto — that during his course of study in Paris Wilson received an annual allowance from the Cardinal of Lorraine. We have also trustwortliy evi- dence that Wolsey's death in 1530 severed the Scottish tutor's connection with the voung man whose education had been connnitted to his charge. It docs not appear, however, that Wilson ever broke off connection with eminent men in England, for a letter exists, written about this time, which is one of the most interesting of our author's remains. Tliere are only three of Wilson's letters in existence — one written at this time in English, and two others at a later date in Latin. It is exphiined 18 TLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS by the learned editor, to whom we owe the reproduction of two of them in one of the collections of the Banna- tyne Club, that this first letter was addressed to Thomas Cromwell, who was employed by Henry VII. after Wolsey's fall in obtaining private information from the Continent. The address, and part of the letter, have been unfortunately destroyed by fire. For many reasons the letter is an interesting one. It affords, at first hand, a picturesque glimpse of the critical state of religious parties in Paris. It is also of interest biographical! y, as showing the high trust placed in Wilson, who was still a young man, and who had apparently only his own abilities to thank for winning the position in which he found himself. We shall quote the latter part of this letter without modifying the quaintness of the spelling : " Other matters I dif(fer to my cuming, wiche, be the grace of Gode, shall be (in xv.) or xvi. days. In the meane tyme I commend h(umblie) Nicolas Fedderstone my procture of Spelhur , besiching you to help and succui's him in hi(s neid) George Hamptones servand wiche arrived (in this toun) yiester-evin, hoc est xiiij die Aprilis, spakke (to me of) bookis to your masterschip, and being willing to buy) the same and not having great plenty as (I was wont) of money, I went to Maister Hamptone (who spakke) to me, and said vith a mer- velus liberall (air I suld) not lalke no money for ony thing thing that concer(neth your) Maisterschip declairing your great humanite (which was) daylie schaw to him ; and so suche new th(ings as are) heir I shall bring vith me in all haist. (I pray) God have your Maisterschip in his keeping. " At (Paris) the xxv. of Aprile be " Yor awn Servand, "Flokence Voluzene."! 1 Bannatyne Misc. I., 325. FLORENTIUS VOLUSENIJS 19 We should like to have had a peep into the wallet of books which Wilson brought over to his Maisterschip. And we can well imagine the humane delight with which he made that small collection — a hoard of trea- sures which had hitherto been inaccessible to his own poor purse. There is little doubt that Wilson went to London, as he proposes in this letter. AYhile there, he appears to have made or renewed acquaintance with a remarkable number of prominent men — Dr. Starkey, Fox, Bishop of Hereford, Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, Fisher the unfortunate Bishop of Rochester, besides his friend Cromwell, at that moment perhaps the most notable man in the whole kingdom. It was while here probably that he arranged with Bellay, the Bishop of Paris, then in London, to accompany him to Rome, a journey which proved a momentous one for his personal fortunes. In the whole career of Wilson we have the proverbial pride and poverty of a Scotsman sho^^^l in a series of startling contrasts. The poor Morayshire boy becomes tutor to the nephew of the greatest public man of the age. Immediately after, we find him " not having great plenty, as I was wont of money," and receiving a pre- carious pension to enable him to carry on his studies. Here we have him once more among bishops and ambas- sadors, in the centre of things, so to speak, and about to have fulfilled, as he hoped, one of the dearest dreams of his life, that of seeing Rome in the train of an illus- trious embassy. Yet, in a few months, wo shall find him in sickness and poverty, only saved from beggary by his native genius and the spell which his intellectual 20 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS qualities, in one short interview, threw around one of the greatest schohirs in Europe. He had not the sword of Dugald Dalgetty or of Marshal Keith, but the wea- pons he possessed were no less keen or less ready to hand when his fortunes fell. Jean du Bellay, Bishop of Paris, and afterwards Cardinal, was the most prominent member of a famous family. His elder brother Guillaume was a soldier and diplomatist whose " Memoires," along with those of a younger brother, form an important link in that wonder- ful chain of personal reminiscences which accompanies the whole course of French history. A third brother, Bishop of Le Mans, turned the family talent in the direction of floriculture. A cousin of these men, or, as some say, a nephew of the Cardinal's, became more illustrious than any of the older generation, for Joachim du Bellay has been called the Ovid of France. It was he who originated the " Pleiade," and helped to infuse the whole course of French literature with strength, and volume, and splendour, drawn from the forgotten sources of ancient art. The Cardinal himself was a man of varied culture, an astute diplomatist, an able administrator, and no mean poet. These were the days of neo-Latin verse, and, if we can pierce behind the the mass of mythological ornament with which his admirers, such as Macrinus and Masurius loaded their verses, we find him to have been regarded as an amiable and appreciative patron, which all the facts of his life go to prove. When Henry of England had reached the crisis of his quarrel with Rome it fell to Bellay to undertake the delicate task of asking delay for his FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 21 defence from Clement VII., and for this purpose he left London, carrying Avith him in his train Florence Wilson. Of Wilson's intentions in undertaking this journey we are not left in doubt. He wished to see Rome; and this was not only an immediate, but a flattering opportunity. There is evidence, too, that Cardinal de Lorraine had advised him to this step, and we cannot wonder that his wish to set his foot in the Eternal City is described as a ''burning desire." We have an interesting glimpse of Wilson during his visit to London, walking with Dr. Starkey in the garden of Antonius Bonvisius, a man Avho appears to have taken a fancy to the learned Scotsman, and who is introduced to us both at Lyons and London. The course of conversation turned, as was natural, on Wilson's future, and he expressed his anxiety to find some place where he could find peace and leisure to pursue his studies in philosophy — "procul a turba philosophari." Starkey suggested the little town of Carpentras, in the south of France, whose bishop, at that time, was the learned Sadoleto. This suggestion was not forgotten by Wilson, and, although, in the meantime, there occurred the chance of the journey to Italy, we shall sec how opportunely it recurred to his mind. While in London, and probably under the roof of Bonvisius, Wilson composed a set of verses which he introduced afterwards into his princi])al work. Notliing that we know of occurred worthy of mention till the Lmbassy reached Lyons. But here arose a crisis in our hero's fate. lie tells us that he jjow again met with hia friend Buuviaius, uud thut hiis iutcutiuns ^2 FLORENTIUS volusenus had begun to waver as to whether it were better for him to proceed to Italy, or to go only so far as Carpentras. The cause of this doubt was probably his own foiling health, for we know that he was ill when he arrived at Avignon. Whether any coolness had arisen between him and the bishop it is hard to say. In his own letter to Dr. Starkey he says nothing about either illness or quarrel, but in the version of his story which Sadoleto reports in a letter to Cardinal de Lorraine, the reason for the separation from the expedition is given as "adversa valetudo et inopia rerum necessarium." The latter is not easily explained if he still retained the favour of the great man who was forced to leave him behind on account of innocent misfortune. However this may be, we would fain have it, and there appears nothing to the contrary, that the disjunction did not occur till the embassy had reached Avignon. For between these two places Wilson would have been thrown into the society of a man whom he would not easily forget, although he might not then have fully appreciated the privilege. At Lyons, the Bishop du Bellay took into his service as physician no less a man than Francois Rabelais. We are singularly fortunate in having preserved to us, in freshness and detail, an account of the interview between Sadoleto and Wilson at their first meeting. The unhappy scholar who had been stranded, as it were, in the wake of the great embassy, in poverty and sickness, at Avignon, made his way, after a time, and with what hopes and misgivings we can ouly imagine, FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS. 23 to make trial of the only chance that seemed to remain to him. It "was late at niglit before he reached the Bishop's door. But we shall give the rest in Sadoleto's own words.^ " Four days ago," he says, in a letter to his nephew Paul, " I had retired to my library as night approached and there sat turning over the leaves of some books when my steward came in and said that some one wanted to see me. I asked him who it was." "A man wearing a gown," he replied. I ordered him to be shown in : and he entered. I then asked him what he wanted in coming to me at such an hour (for I wished to get rid of the man quickly, and resume my reading). My visitor then began from the beginning ; and he spoke so aptly, accurately, and modestly, that I felt inclined to question him further and to find out more about him. So I shut my book, turned towards him, and began asking him where he came from, what his profession was, and why he had come hither. * I am a Scotsman,' he said. 'Do you mean to say that you come from that remotest corner of the earth ? ' ' I do.' *Tlicn where did you study the liberal arts?' " I could not help asking this, as his speech was full of Latinity and genius. ' First in iny native country, I gave several years to tlic study of piiilosophy, tiien I continued my education at Paris, where I was tutor to the nephew of the Cardinal of York. Afterwards, when the death of his 1 yadolct. Epiat., G57. 24 IXORENTIUS VOLUSENUS uncle had separated the boy from me, I betook myself to BcHay, the Bishop of Paris, with whom I was on my way to Rome, when my severe ilhiess separated us on the way.' ' What do you expect here, then ? ' 'It was my long cherished desire of seeing you,' he replied, ' that brought me here. And when it was told me at Avignon that you were looking out for some one who should act as teacher in this town, I resolved to offer myself, if I should be found worthy of the post — not so much out of eagerness for the situation as from a wish to be agreeable to you, and knowing, at the same time, that any post I may fill under you, or by your recommendation, will further my credit.' " So the account breaks off. " Quid quaeris ? " writes the Cardinal, and proceeds to tell of the next day's proceedings. "I was so pleased with him," he continues, "that early next morning I sent for Glocerius the magistrate, and Helia. I spoke to them of my hopes of this stranger and how favourably his whole bearing had struck me. For, truly, one could scarcely have hoped, even in an Italian, for such modesty, prudence, and such a prepossessing countenance and manner as his. Not content with this, I asked my physician, of whom I have written you before, Helia, and the magistrates to dine with me, and meet this Florentius (for that is his name). After dinner, I got them on to a discussion, and some question iu physics having turned up, the doctor launched forth with vehemence, twisting his foce and puffing violently (certatum a medico uostro acriter, f'LORENTlUS VOLUSENUS. 25 obtorto vultu, magnisque anlielitibus). The other, modest, placid, said nothing that was not to the point, nothing bnt what Avas quietly accurate, and at the same time profound and intelligent. When I had put a knotty point against the doctor, which he had infinite labour to get out of, Florentius, begging pardon, proceeded to solve the question as learnedly and skillfully as it could possibly have been done. What more ? All present were seized with a desire to retain him among us. The magistrates called him aside, and the matter was arranged at a salary of 100 gold pieces. This has pleavscd the citizens so much, I hear, that they are all of opinion that a fresh piece of good fortune has fallen on the town. They also speak of the way in which he has spoken to the magistrates, than which nothing could be more liberal or ingenuous. From all this, I hope the office has been provided for in the best possible manner. And a further gratification to me is that he has a knowledge of Greek which he can impart to his pupils." Such a brilliant assault on a difficult position well deserved to be recorded, and there is a peculiar grace in the kindly and spirited narrative of the learned Bishop. Here, then, the wandering scholar had again found rest for the sole of his weary foot ; not, be it remem- bered, in a mere chance situation, accepted to ward off starvation, but in the very place which he had cast his eyes on some time before, and under the man whoso society he most liighly prized. Wilson made conscientious efforts to prove worthy of the trust that hud bueu so promptly reposed in him, 26 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS and we find him, not long after his appointment, making a journey to Lyons to procure the necessary books. There, it was natural that he should take up his quarters with his friend Bonvisius, from whose house he wrote the letter that we have noticed to Dr. Starkey in London. It is a graceful and interesting letter, which want of space prevents us from quoting at length. One sentence we cannot omit. " Itaque, mi Starchee, constitui hie annos aliquot procul turbis, procul ambitu, procul denique curis omnibus, nisi fortunte me violentia huic abripiat, philosophari. " He commends himself to all his distinguished friends in London, and from certain items of contemporary news, we are able to say, although the letter is undated, that it was written in 1535. In the following year, we find a letter from Sadoleto to the Cardinal de Lorraine in which Wilson is spoken of in the highest terms. " Florence is now with me at Carpentras," he writes, " giving his mind with the greatest eagerness and industry to study, more especially to philosophy, and our daily conversations are, to me, most pleasing and grateful." A hint is also given to his old patron that a continuance of the pension formerly received would be of the utmost use, and well deserved. It was in this position of studious quiet and com- parative ease — " procul turba," at last — that Wilson set himself to the composition of the work that has preserved his name. It was preceded by a theological disquisition which has, somehow, perished, and which, from its title, we perhaps may venture to think was not FLORENTIIJS VOLtJSENUS 27 SO eminently worthy of preservation. It was called " Commentatio quaxlam Theologica quaj eaclem prccatio est in Aphorismos dissecta," and was printed by Gryphius at Lyons in 1539. We learn from Gesner that Wilson was about this time still in the prime of his manhood — " juvenili adhuc a3tate " is the expression — a melancholy testimony, when we reflect that, in six years, George Buchanan would be writing that plaintive quatrain of his on the lonely grave of his friend, " quam procul a patria." It is far from our intention to give any detailed analysis of the " De Tranquillitate." Such labour would be lost on those who can enjoy it for themselves ; to all others we may seem to have said too much already. But we cannot conclude without giving a slight sketch of tlic book and noticing one or two points in it. It was published at Lyons by Sebastian Gryphius in 1543. The copy of this edition which we have seen and handled is an interesting one bearing the book-plate of Ruddiman. It is a moderately thick quarto bound in brown leather with prominent ribs on tiic back, and the edges covered with old gihling that lias not lost its lustre. The famous griflin of the great printer is on the title page, surrounded by clear and beautiful renaissance ornament. The preface, which ends, as usual, in the shape of an inverted pyramid, is in italic letters, the body of the work in strong Iloman type. There are two initial letters of exquisite execution and design. Around each page is a line, not printed, but drawn in red ink. The book is written in the form of a dialogue. Ou 28 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS the pleasant slopes of a garden near Lyons, from whence, between the trees, could be seen the shimmer- ing reaches of the Rhone, three friends, Wilson, Franciscus Michaslis of Lucca, and Demetrius Caravalla, sauntered one sunny morning, drinking in the pure air which tasted sweet after their close reading, looking with delight on the wide and fair landscape that lay beneath them, and talking of many things. Wilson was somewhat troubled, for he had heard of war and dis- turbance in Britain, and, like a true Scot, his most sensitive side was always turned towards home. After an eloquent prediction on his part of the future union of the two nations, the talk turns to less material things and gradually settles into a discussion of the best means by which a man may obtain tranquillity of soul. After about a third of the book has been occupied by a deep and widely learned disputation on this subject, we come to something which has a more concrete interest. This is the "somnium singulare" which Wilson relates as a memory of his youth in Morayshire. It is at this point that he introduces his friend John Ogilvie, and the walks and talks which they used to have on the banks of the Lossie. We have already referred to this incident. We have seen that Ogilvie had appealed to Wilson for philosophical comfort, and that he had promised, on the morrow, to bestow it to the best of liis ability. While asleep, that night, he dreamt a dream. He seemed to be walking in a region of exquisite beauty, which was no other than that of his birth. Around him were wooded slopes and, sleeping among FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 29 them, a wide lake, liaunted by ■wild swans ; while, not far ofl*, stood the good town of Elgin, crowned with its Cathedral towers. Near him was a hill, around whose base wandered a clear and shallow river full of darting fish. On the summit of the hill, stood a temple of Parian stone, and round it was a grove of trees among which there grew the myrtle, the laurel, the cypress, and the terebinth. Apple trees, and nut trees, too, there were, and among them the singing of birds. Down the hill sides ran trickling streams, while through the trees passed the light whisper of the wind — no poisonous or hurtful creature vexed the place. The Temple itself, that seemed of Parian stone, was of exquisite architecture ; and all around it, was a wide and spacious wall. At the gate an old man sat — a very Democritus in mien and habit. As Florence came nearer, he spoke to the old man but received only a bow. Again he addressed him and was answered in Latin but with a Greek accent. Tiie answer was but a request to look above, and there, over the gateway, Florence read TH2 EYGYMIAS 0IK02 ''The House of Traufiuillity." On being bidden to enter, Florence then came upon eight pillars, each of which bore an inscription. These inscrii)tions were in the form of moral precepts ; and they lead the author into as many separate discussions, in which a vast mass of classical and patristic ])hilosophy is emj)loyed, with Ciceronian grace, to shed light upon the theme. This forms tiie main bulk of the whole work, and the final 30 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS allegory is concerned with even higher things. For when his guide had disappeared he lifted his eyes to heaven, as though still unsatisfied in his quest, and there, on a sublime height, he saw a grander temple. Words fail him to describe it, On the narrow path that led to its gates, the dreamer met St. Paul, who pointed, as the old philosopher had done, to the words above the door. They were — " Blessed are they that dwell in thy house," and on the pillars on either hand was written, " Know thyself " and " Know thy God." Above the arch that these supported, was carven the wounded, thorn- crowned Christ — and Florence woke in an ecstasy of thanks and praise for the celestial guidance of his dream. The allegory is an obvious one, but it is drawn with as fine and pure hand, and may rank with the " Palace of Art " in width of conception, and rightness of intention. As we have confined ourselves to a strictly biographical task, however, we shall leave to others all minuter criticism. There is one point of antiquarian interest which we can scarcely pass over. Some writers have imagined that, in his Temple of Tranquillity, Wilson meant to describe Elgin Cathedral as it existed in his day. This can scarcely be, as his Temple is placed near Elgin, where there is a magnificent edifice — namely the Cathedral. If he meant to describe it at all, he probably would have given it the higher place, that of the Christian fane, which rose over the pagan temple. One of his biographers has suggested the eminence of Lady Hill with its castle and chapel as the place in FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 31 Wilson's mind. It seems to us that a readier explanation would be to suppose that the Palace of Spynie, which he must have remembered at its best, Avith David's Tower newly built and rivalling in its creamy sandstone and crisp chiselling the lustre of Parian marble, must have at least suggested a descrip- tion which is no doubt almost entirely imaginative. It, too, stood on a gentle rising ground, and the swan- haunted lake washed its outworks. But this is a matter in which we cannot expect our readers to be seriously interested. The biography of Wilson's book is a short story. The first edition by Gryphius, as we have seen, was in 1543. A second, edited by David Echlin, physician to Queen Henrietta Maria, appeared at Lyons and the Hague in 1637-42. Ruddiman next took the work in hand, adding many biographical scraps and a preface in 1707. Finally, in 1758, George Wishart, Principal of Edinburgh University, brought out an edition containing an analysis of the whole treatise and an introduction by Dr. Ward of Grcsham College. Some other works have been attributed to Wilson, but, witli the exception of some verses, the "De Tranquillitatc" must be taken as all that he has left us. It was occasionally referred to in the last century. In Smollet's " Reprisal," a Scotch Ensign, addressing an Irish Lieutenant, cries, " Hoot fie, Captain Oclabber, whare's a' your [ihilosophy ? Did ye never read Seneca * De Consolationc,' or Voluscnus, my countryman ' Dc Tranfiuillitatc Animi?'" In a letter to Johnson, from K(linl)nrgh, on January 8th, 1778, Boswell writes, "Did you over look at a book 32 FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS written by Wilson, a Scotchman, under the Latin name of Vohisenus according to the custom of literary men at a certain period ? It is entitled, ' De Animi Tranquillitate.' " ^ But with all the longed for rest and quiet of his school at Carpentras, the spirit of Florence Wilson was not satisfied. With all his intellectual and moral tranquillity, there was rising in his breast a desire which no man, and least of all a Scotsman, can well control. He longed for home. Through all the *De Tranquillitate' there breaths this plaintive longing — and a sort of half-expressed suggestion that the satisfaction of this, too, is necessary to the happy life. It was not a cheerful prospect, for Scotland, at the time, had entered on the wildest day in all the long storm of her history. Still, he had resolved to return, with what definite or material objects we scarcely know, but we may well believe with high hopes and glad anticipations. One cause at least for his leaving Carpentras is pretty obvious. Tlie good old Sadoleto — a Cardinal since 1536 — worn with the cares of its high office, retired in 1544 to Rome. Two years after this, we find Wilson preparing for his journey. And to whom should he turn in such a moment of doubt but to his old master ? He wrote to the Cardinal, at Rome, laying before him the difl^iculties which had occurred to him as to his future conduct in Scotland. How should he act between Catholic and Reformer ? Sadoleto, be it said, had never been a bigot. His leanings towards friendliness, at least with 1 Notes and Queries, III. 29. FLORENTIUS VOLUSENUS 33 the new religion, were well known, and it is not surprising that Wilson should be in doubt on such a point. Sadoleto's letter, which is preserved, is a beau- tiful one — kindly and encouraging, it need hardly be said — and urges him to keep fiist the ancient foith, and to consecrate to it all his learning and genius. Alas for such anticipations ! Florence had only reached the ancient town of Viennes, in Dauphiny, when he was seized with sickness and died. The beautiful epitaph of George Buchanan has already been referred to — " Hie Musis, Volusene, jacis carrissime, ripam Ad Rhodani, terra quam procul a patria. Hoc meruit virtus tua, tellus quae foret altrix Virtutum, ut cineres conderet ilia tuos." It is idle now to dream of the work which a man like this might have done had he lived. It is idle to regret 80 fine and true a spirit as his taken early from a world that stood, just then, so much in need of the quiet thought and quiet courage with which he was so greatly gifted. But surely it is not an idle task to piece to- gether the short and sad story of one who should not be forgotten, of one who, " fortunae adversae et novcr- cantis injuria excrcitatissimus," has yet left within us a feeling of j)ride that he was our countryman. BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING ^ many wise and witty things have been said ^^^^2) about books, that it would be a hopeless task to endeavour to find a new phrase expressive of the extraordinary value and intellectual preciousness of written and printed literature. The invention of writing was one of primasval man's peculiarly happy thoughts, and the enormous mechanical advance which printing introduced has changed the whole aspect of human life more than any other discovery since history began. Like all great discoveries, this last looks so simple and obvious a thing that we marvel less at the genius that hit upon it, than at the unaccountable obtuseness of the generations to whose minds it never occurred before. I am not going to re-tell the often told story, or to discuss the probabilities of Coster or Gutenberg having been the really first inventor. I intend to speak mainly of Books — books as we know them — not of hieroglyphics or papyrus leaves, Assyrian blocks, or even of monkish manuscripts. A very few words, however, are perhaps necessary as to ancient books ; for whatever their form may have 34 BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 35 been, we must needs remember that the love of them was as pronounced in olden times as in our own, that the veneration for, and care of them (perhaps from their greater individual value) was infinitely greater. In Greece the boys at school were taught to write on waxen tablets ; and the Greek book, written on parch- ment, was in the form of a roll, with a little label called the silluhos at the end. A learned man's study in Greece must have somewhat resembled a paper-hanger's shop of our own day, — shelves or cases filled with these tightly rolled and ticketed manuscripts. The Roman book was something of the same kind. In the days of the early Empire, the book trade is said to have been enormous, — scarcely inferior to what it is in our own day, — the place of the printing press being taken by large companies of slaves, who were solely employed in the copying of manuscripts. There were book-shops, too, in large numbers in ancient Rome; and besides these, there was a system of public recitation by which autliors unburdened themselves of unpublished works to a more or less appreciative audience. However much we may deplore the excessive production of books in our own day, we may, I think, congratulate ourselves on being si)arcd this form of literary infiiction. Greece and Rome have passed away, and much of their interest (save to tlie clastsical scholar), has passed with them into historical oblivion. " Now the Forum roars no longer," and the book-lnniting of which 1 will speak ai)j)lics more to the books of the revival of learning and modern 36 BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING times than to the pursuit of such higher game as original texts. In these days of cheap editions it is indeed doubtful whether the rather old-fashioned form of madness, known as Bibliomania, will long survive. Books are daily becoming more accessible, more diffused, and less attractive to the mere collector. But it would be folly to complain of this. It is indeed in many ways a great blessing, as it brings within the reach of those who could not otherwise hope to possess them, the greatest results of literary genius. But as it is not of ancient MSS. that I am going to speak, so, I may premise, it is not of purely modern books or reprints. I have introduced the word book- hunting, which is not, in its inner and deeper meaning, at all to be confounded with mere book-buying. Book- hunting is a sport — a taste — a vocation — a mania — a mission — or a hobby. It is not everybody who can, as it is not everybody who will, become a book-hunter. Book-hunters are born — not made — but, just as a "mute inglorious Milton " may continue digging the village potatoes until a flash of self-consciousness reveals his true destiny, so many of us may have lived hitherto without knowing the great possibilities of intellectual and a3sthetic accomplishment of which we might be capable as book-hunters. In any event, whether you are inclined to join the hunt or not, you may not be uninterested to hear some of its charms, and especially of the noble game which forms its object. Nor am I going to begin by quoting the Scriptural phrase about the making of many books, because I am BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 37 bound to assume that you all know it ; but I may, before beginning to deal with books, properly speaking, hazard the remark that more books have been lost than most of us have any idea of. We know that some animals have become extinct, and no one now goes out to fish for ichthyosauri or to shoot the wary dodo ; but nothing is beyond the fine frenzy of tlic book-hunter's rolling eye, — and few but he knows how far beyond the limits of known and existing literature the boundaries of his happy hunting grounds extend. Let us first then speak for a moment of Lost Books. Of the earlier lyric poets of Greece, we possess only fragments. Indeed, the whole literature of Greece known to us may be considered, in contrast with what it might have been, as only a magnificent "torso." Magnificent in conception, exquisite in execution, it is still only a fragment of the glorious inheritance which we mlf/ht have found therein. ^Eschylus wrote 70 tragedies, and we possess only 7. Sophocles wrote 106 dramas, and wc have only 7 of them. Euripides wrote over 100 plays, and only 18 remain. Aristophanes wrote 54 plays, and we have only a dozen left. Then in Latin literature, 107 books of Livy's history are lost, and 13 books of Tacitus^ besides innumerable other works. It is curious to think of all this lost literature, buried thought, vanished art ; — to think that somewhere, even still, there may be, lying concealed or neglected, some decaying tablet or soiled and tattered i)arcliment that, if brought to light, would charm, enlighten, or instruct the entire civilized world. It is curious to speculate how much better, or wiser, or more cultivated the world of 38 BOOKS ANb BOOK-HUNTING men would have been if the little accidents of time had not interrupted these streams at their source. In our day, when every line, almost every word, written by the authors of classic antiquity has formed the subject of a whole mass of critical exposition, it is almost over- whelming to calculate the sensation which would be produced by the finding of, say, 50 new dramas by Sophocles, or of 10 books of Tacitus. Virgil's /Eneid is a work which illuminated, almost formed the golden age of Augustus. It preserved its fame — though rather in the shape of a dark, or magic lantern — during the Dark Ages ; and since then it has been the daily school-companion of our fathers and ourselves. Yet never was any work nearer extinction than the /Eneid. When Virgil had written the 6th book, one of the finest in the whole poem, he came before Augustus to recite his verses. The Emperor's sister was present, that Octavia who had just lost her son, the young Marcellus, a youth on whom all the affection of the imperial house and the Roman nation seemed centered. As the poet came to the magnificent and touching passage in which he refers to this young man's death, Octavia swooned away with emotion. It was only a few years after that Virgil started to go on a tour through Greece and Asia for the purpose of revising his great work. On the way, however, he met Augustus, and, returning with him, caught an illness of which he died at Brundusium. The poet, on his death-bed, impatient no doubt at the thought of not having been able to complete tlie revision of his poem, desired that the MS. should be thrown into the fire. BOOKS AND ROOK-HUNTING 39 His friends would not obey him in this. He left instructions in his will that the poem should be destroyed. Augustus, however, was so filled with admiration for it and for him that he disregarded the dying wish of the poet, and preserved for us the immortal ^neid. Another remarkable instance of almost accidental survival of a great book occurs in the history of the Roman or Civil Law. The Emperor Justinian, wishing to collect together — to codify, in short, — the whole jurisprudence of the empire, issued a commission to the great lawyer Tribonian and ten fellow-labourers to collect, in one digest or body, the whole of the writings of the ancient jurists, which would consolidate or expound the j)rinciples of the Roman law. In three years, this work was accomplished, 9000 extracts were made and arranged from 2000 different works, and the whole was embodied in what is now known as the Digest or Pandects of the Civil Law. This work, one of the most gigantic in the history of literature, and which has had the same influence on mediccval and modern law as the pole star had on primitive navigation, was lost. It was not till a.d. 1L30, far on in the dark ages, when light was beginning to glimmer about the north of Italy, that a discovery was made at Amalfi, a sea-coast town, of a unique manuscript of Justinian's Digest, from wiiich so nuich learjiing and jurisi)ru(lence has since flowed. It is only fair, however, to add that this story is not looked upon as entirely authentic. It shows, however, on what a fragile tenure the greatest literary achicvcmeuLs of auti(iuity have huuj^ before that 40 BOOKS AND BOOS-HUNTING wonderful but obvious discovery of printing had put them, practically speaking, beyond reach of such accidents. Passing now from the consideration of ancient manuscripts, we find ourselves in the fifteenth century, on the threshold of the modern library. It is interesting, and may be startling to some, to reflect that books, as we know them, owed somewhat of their origin to such frivolities as playing-cards. Yet it is undoubted that there were printed packs of cards before there were printed books. The operation of taking printed impressions from wooden blocks was employed first on such diverse subjects as kings and queens of spades and hearts and the efBgies of saints. Mr. Hallam^ says, " The latter," i.e., the saints, " were frequently accompanied by a few lines of letters cut in the block. Gradually entire pages were cut in this manner ; and thus began what we called block books, printed in fixed characters, but never exceeding a very few leaves. Of these ihere exists nine or ten, often reprinted, as it is generally thought, between 1400 and 1440." Mr. Hallam does not enter into the controversy which has arisen over the next stage in the evolution of the invention. The idea of using moveable types, so that when once set up they might be taken down and re-arranged in different combinations, apparently occurred to two minds at one and the same time — to Laurence Coster of Haarlem and to Gutenberg of Strasbourg. I shall not pursue the controversy as to printing. It is sufficient to know that Gutenberg, having taken Fust as a partner, set up as a printer in 1 Hall.-im, lutroduction to the Literature of Europe, c. iii. 18. BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 41 Mentz. If it be permissible to parody a parody, we might alter the words of Lord Ncaves's song of the Leather Bott51 and say, " Who e'er he be, we wish him luck, who first found out the printed book." The first book printed was, as was fitting and proper, an edition of the Scriptures. This was a Latin version, now well known as the Mazarin Bible, from the fact that the first copy of it was found in the library of Cardinal Mazarin about the middle of the last centur}'. Mazarin, an Italian by birth, was, about the middle of the l/th century, ]Minister of State in France, and during the minority of Louis XIV. had acquired an immense fortune. He had also accumulated a magnificent library. Among his books this wonderful work was first identified, for, of course, it was not altogether a unique discovery. Some 18 or 20 copies are known to exist. I am proud to say that I am a part owner of one of these, for the Mazarin Bible lies in the Advocates' Library in Edinburgh. It is a grand old folio; and, looking on its pages, faintly tinted, not stained, by time, and tracing its clear black type, one is filled with strange feelings on standing face to face with what is undoubtedly the most interesting hook in the tvorld. It is the offspring of one of tiic most momentous ideas which ever entered the brain of man. It is the father of modern culture, the seed of the flower that has brightened and cnriclicd the centuries that have passed since its date. When we think of the dim old work- room at Mentz, and the proud and eager spirits that worked there in secret, yet in triumph, we wonder whether u vL-iion ever swum before their eyes of 42 BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING geueratioii after generation ever widening and glorifying their discovery ; of a world transfigured from the dull mumblings of monkish scriptoriums, — spots of doubtful light in an atmosphere of thick darkness, — to the broad white light that is showered and scattered every day and every hour of the day among us from the Titan hands of steam and steel, bringing to us news of battle and of glory, news of the lone explorer, diaries of the life of nations, before the ink on them is dry, the richest stores of the philosopher's brain, the airiest fantasies of poet's dream, all spread out and offered to us for the smallest pittance, all so pressed upon us that no one but an invalid or a fool can be excused from their use and enjoyment. It is something that calls for the cry, " Glory and love to the men of old ! " Let us put ourselves in the place of these old printers in 1465, and, supposing that we are eager then to apply our great invention to the best purpose, the multiplica- tion of the noblest literature, what material should we have found ready to our hands ? Apart from the Holy Scriptures, what great books were there then ready to be put in type ? We must remember that the revival of learning took place first, not in Germany, but in Italy. Schools were being formed in Italy for the teaching of Greek. Scholars were coming from the East full of oriental learning. The forgotten literature of Greece was, as it were, turning in its sleep. All honour must be paid to the great names of Petrarch and Boccaccio, who, not content with, or absorbed in their own fame, devoted a great part of their lives to the finding and actiuisitiou of feOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 43 ancient jMSS., principally of Greek and Latin authors. It was Boccaccio who first brought over from Greece a MS. of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. The first edition, or editio princeps of Homer, was published at Florence in 1488, only 33 years after the Mazarin Bible. In that 30 years the art of printing had already spread to all the great centres of Italian culture, to France, and to England. This first edition of Homer, which was in two volumes, folio, is also in the Advocates' Library. Up to this time only a few of the classics had been printed, and as regards Greek texts, the typefounders had not been able, except imperfectly, to produce the intricate but beautiful alphabet of the language. In the earlier works, where Greek wortls appeared, they were written with the pen. Nothing is perhaps more remarkable in literary history than the swift and enormous accumulation of classical editions, classical critics, and writings of every sort relating to the ancient authors, their lives, poetry, and philosophy that broke out all over Europe about this time. It had commenced before the era of printing, but that discovery gave an enormous impetus to the movement. The leading figures in this Renaissance, as it is generally called, were Lorenzo dc Medici in Florence, several other enlightened princes and scholars, and, perhaps more than all, some of the great first printers. They were not merely mechanics, or even mere publishers. They were scholars and artists. The first of these wliom I shall mention, and who is well worthv of vf>ur studv, was A/dns Manntiiis, or in Italian, Aldo Maicaziu. This famous ticholar uud 44 BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING printer was born at Bassiano in 1449. He established a printing press in Venice in 1490, and from that time onwards he continued to produce editions of the classics and similar works, distinguished by their careful editing and beautiful typography. In this latter direction he was an inventor. Besides a number of different alphabets of the Greek character, he caused to be put in use the sloping or flowing form of type which we now know as Italics. When a word is meant to be very emphatic we generally underline it in MS. We know that if we give that MS. to a printer he will set up our observations in ordinary type, but when he comes to an underlined word, he will set it up in v/hat we call italics. That word was taken from the use and invention of Aldus in Venice, who there first introduced this graceful and pleasing form of type. The fame of Aldus Manutius, however, goes much further than this. He was a scholar in advance of his time, and not only a printer, but the founder of a dynasty of printers. The Aldine editions became the most valuable of the age, and on the old man's death in 1515, the business was carried on by his father-in-law, his son, and his grandson. The mark of Aldus was an anchor entwined with a dolphin, and the motto "Sudavit et alsit." These words, "'He bore heat and cold," are borrowed from the poem of Horace on the Art of Poetry, where he impresses his hearers with the vigorous training which is necessary for the attainment of intellectual success. The next great printer to whom I will direct your attention is Sebastian Gryphius. He was born in BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 45 Germany in 1493, and his fame was acquired at Lyons, where he founded a famous printing house, and became one of the most distinguished publishers of the sixteenth century. His greatest work was a Bible in folio, published in 1550, in which he used the largest type that had hitherto appeared. In his preface he says the volumes are printed " majoribus et augustiorihus typis " — with the largest and most august or distin- guished type.^ He published a great many of the classics, and was exceedingly careful in his revision of the proofs. Of his Bible, Chevillier (quoted by Bayle) says, " One generally places the Errata in the most obscure part of the work ; Gryphius gave it the most conspicuous place, where one could not fail to see it. The first page was the title, the mark of the printer, and the year of impression ; the second was the Errata, and the third the dedicatory ejpistle." So great was the fame of Gryphius that maliy of the most distinguished scholars publicly complimented him on his scholarship and fidelity. Gesner, Scaliger, Sadoleto all have paid him tribute. The latter, Cardinal Sadoleto, one of the most enlightened ecclesiastics of the sixteenth century, published through Gryphius a vohnne of very interesting letters, and one of these was addressed by the Cardinal to Gryphius himself. It is dated 1554 — two years before the great printer's death. At page 184 we find the letter I have mentioned. Tiic Cardinal says, " Whatever comes from your printing-house is held by all to be both correct and of approved goodness, if your name is inscribed in it. For your probity and 1 Bayle'ttDict. "GrypbiuH." 46 BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING diligence are known, as well as your erudition." You can see, in the title page, and at the end of this book, the " Griffin," which was the mark of Gryphius. Sebastian Gryphius was succeeded by his son Antoniiis, who carried on worthily the traditions of the house. There was a John Gryphius, a printer in Venice, about 1550, who does not seem to have been of the same family. I have an edition of Suetonius in Italian printed by him in 1554. These editions of Gryphius are sometimes to be met with in our old book shops ; and to the book-hunter who, besides mere curiosity, has a pleasure in reading an old author from clear-cut type, and who enjoys, as only a book-lover can, the antique flavour, the old world atmosphere that such a book throws round itself like a halo, there are none more delightful than the careful pages of old Sebastian Gryphius. Another great printer who was also a great scholar was the French Henri Etienne. He devoted himself mainly to Greek erudition, and commenced his great career by the publication at Paris, in 1554, of the editio princeps of Anacreon. Hallam^ bestows high praise on him when he says — " The press of Stephens might be called the centre point of illumination for Europe." The distin- guishing mark of Stephens was a tree with an old man standing by it, and the motto " Noli altum sapere." A specimen of Stephen's typography which I possess is an edition of Diogenes Laertius, dated 1570, only thirty- seven years after the editio princeps of this author. Brunet says this edition is *' thought well of and is 1 Hist, of Lit., ex., 13. BOOKS AND BOOK-HUNTING 47 uncommon." It at least shows how far the old printer had gone in the manufacture of Greek tvpe, for the letters and contractions are singularly clear, as well as beautifully formed. The other work is on a smaller scale, and of this the great critic Chardon de la Rochette says that it is the most elegant edition of the somewhat peculiar work it contains. That is what were called Homerici Centones, i.e., a sort of parody of Homer, in which lines of the Iliad are so chosen and placed that they form a different narrative altogether. The same thing was done with Virgil, and this ridiculously wasted ingenuity was generally spent on constructing biblical and sacred narratives. I do not intend to say much more about the older printers. I cannot, however, pass by the group of famous typographer whose head-quarters were in the Low Countries, such as Plantin, Blaev, Ilackius, and the Elzevirs. The most splendid of all these was Christopher Plantin, a Frenchman, who set up in Antwerp a printing house which soon became the wonder and admi- ration of the world. He seems to have had a genius for administration and the