LIS. Philemon has cheated me of an eloquent speech. But let us receive the sentiment as he proposes it.

LOREN. Now the uproar of Bacchus has subsided, the instructive conversation of Minerva may follow. Go on, Lysander.

LYSAND. Having endeavoured to do justice to Girald Barri, I know of no other particularly distinguished bibliomaniac till we approach the aera of the incomparable ROGER, or FRIAR, BACON. I say incomparable, Lorenzo; because he was, in truth, a constellation of the very first splendour and magnitude in the dark times in which he lived; and notwithstanding a sagacious writer (if my memory be not treacherous) of the name of Coxe, chooses to tell us that he was "miserably starved to death, because he could not introduce a piece of roast beef into his stomach, on account of having made a league with Satan to eat only cheese;"[257]—yet I suspect that the end of Bacon was hastened by other means more disgraceful to the age and equally painful to himself.

[Footnote 257: "A short treatise declaringe the detestable wickednesse of magicall sciences, as necromancie, coniuration of spirites, curiouse astrologie, and suche lyke, made by FRANCIS COXE." Printed by Allde, 12mo., without date (14 leaves). From this curious little volume, which is superficially noticed by Herbert (vol. ii., p. 889), the reader is presented with the following extract, appertaining to the above subject: "I myself (says the author) knew a priest not far from a town called Bridgewater, which, as it is well known in the country, was a great magician in all his life time. After he once began these practices, he would never eat bread, but, instead thereof, did always eat cheese: which thing, as he confessed divers times, he did because it was so concluded betwixt him and the spirit which served him," &c. sign. A viii. rect. "(R.) Bacon's end was much after the like sort; for having a greedy desire unto meat, he could cause nothing to enter the stomach—wherefore thus miserably he starved to death." Sign. B. iij. rev. Not having at hand John Dee's book of the defence of Roger Bacon, from the charge of astrology and magic (the want of which one laments as pathetically as did Naude, in his "Apologie pour tous les grands personnages, &c., faussement soupconnez de Magic," Haye, 1653, 8vo., p. 488), I am at a loss to say the fine things, which Dee must have said, in commendation of the extraordinary talents of ROGER BACON; who was miserably matched in the age in which he lived; but who, together with his great patron GROSTESTE, will shine forth as beacons to futurity. Dr. Friend in his History of Physic has enumerated what he conceived to be Bacon's leading works; while Gower in his Confessio Amantis (Caxton's edit., fol. 70), has mentioned the brazen head—

for to telle Of such thyngs as befelle:

which was the joint manufactory of the patron and his eleve. As lately as the year 1666, Bacon's life formed the subject of a "famous history," from which Walter Scott has given us a facetious anecdote in the seventh volume (p. 10) of Dryden's Works. But the curious investigator of ancient times, and the genuine lover of British biography, will seize upon the more prominent features in the life of this renowned philosopher; will reckon up his great discoveries in optics and physics; and will fancy, upon looking at the above picture of his study, that an explosion from gun-powder (of which our philosopher has been thought the inventor) has protruded the palings which are leaning against its sides. Bacon's "Opus Majus," which happened to meet the eyes of Pope Clement IV., and which now would have encircled the neck of its author with an hundred golden chains, and procured for him a diploma from every learned society in Europe—just served to liberate him from his first long imprisonment. This was succeeded by a subsequent confinement of twelve years; from which he was released only time enough to breathe his last in the pure air of heaven. Whether he expended 3000, or 30,000 pounds of our present money, upon his experiments, can now be only matter of conjecture. Those who are dissatisfied with the meagre manner in which our early biographers have noticed the labours of Roger Bacon, and with the tetragonistical story, said by Twyne to be propagated by our philosopher, of Julius Caesar's seeing the whole of the British coast and encampment upon the Gallic shore, "maximorum ope speculorum" (Antiquit. Acad. Oxon. Apolog. 1608, 4to., p. 353), may be pleased with the facetious story told of him by Wood (Annals of Oxford, vol. i., 216, Gutch's edit.) and yet more by the minute catalogue of his works noticed by Bishop Tanner (Bibl. Brit. Hibern. p. 62): while the following eulogy of old Tom Fuller cannot fail to find a passage to every heart: "For mine own part (says this delightful and original writer) I behold the name of Bacon in Oxford, not as of an individual man, but corporation of men; no single cord, but a twisted cable of many together. And as all the acts of strong men of that nature are attributed to an Hercules; all the predictions of prophecying women to a Sibyll; so I conceive all the achievements of the Oxonian Bacons, in their liberal studies, are ascribed to ONE, as chief of the name." Church History, book iii., p. 96.]



Only let us imagine we see this sharp-eyed philosopher at work in his study, of which yonder print is generally received as a representation! How heedlessly did he hear the murmuring of the stream beneath, and of the winds without—immersed in the vellum and parchment rolls of theological, astrological, and mathematical lore, which, upon the dispersion of the libraries of the Jews,[258] he was constantly perusing, and of which so large a share had fallen to his own lot!

[Footnote 258: Warton, in his second Dissertation, says that "great multitudes of their (the Jews) books fell into the hands of Roger Bacon;" and refers to Wood's Hist. et Antiquit. Univ. Oxon., vol. i., 77, 132—where I find rather a slight notification of it—but, in the genuine edition of this latter work, published by Mr. Gutch, vol. i., p. 329, it is said: "At their (the Jews) expulsion, divers of their tenements that were forfeited to the king, came into the hands of William Burnell, Provost of Wells; and their books (for many of them were learned) to divers of our scholars; among whom, as is verily supposed, ROGER BACON was one: and that he furnished himself with such Hebrew rarities, that he could not elsewhere find. Also that, when he died, he left them to the Franciscan library at Oxon, which, being not well understood in after-times, were condemned to moths and dust!" Weep, weep, kind-hearted bibliomaniac, when thou thinkest upon the fate of these poor Hebrew MSS.!]

Unfortunately, my friends, little is known with certainty, though much is vaguely conjectured, of the labours of this great man. Some of the first scholars and authors of our own and of other countries have been proud to celebrate his praises; nor would it be considered a disgrace by the most eminent of modern experimental philosophers—of him, who has been described as "unlocking the hidden treasures of nature, and explaining the various systems by which air, and earth, and fire, and water, counteract and sustain each other"[259]—to fix the laureate crown round the brows of our venerable Bacon!

[Footnote 259: See a periodical paper, entitled The Director! vol. ii., p. 294.]

We have now reached the close of the thirteenth century and the reign of EDWARD THE FIRST;[260] when the principal thing that strikes us, connected with the history of libraries, is this monarch's insatiable lust of strengthening his title to the kingdom of Scotland by purchasing "the libraries of all the monasteries" for the securing of any record which might corroborate the same. What he gave for this tremendous book-purchase, or of what nature were the volumes purchased, or what was their subsequent destination, is a knot yet remaining to be untied.

[Footnote 260: "King Edward the first caused and committed divers copies of the records, and much concerning the realm of Scotland, unto divers abbies for the preservance thereof; which for the most part are now perished, or rare to be had; and which privilie by the dissolution of monasteries is detained. The same king caused the libraries of all monasteries, and other places of the realm, to be purchased, for the further and manifest declaration of his title, as chief Lord of Scotland: and the record thereof now extant, doth alledge divers leger books of abbeys for the confirmation thereof": Petition (to Q. Elizabeth) for an academy of Antiquities and History. Hearne's Curious Discourses written by eminent Antiquaries; vol. ii., 326, edit. 1775.]

Of the bibliomaniacal propensity of Edward's grandson, the great EDWARD THE THIRD, there can be no question. Indeed, I could gossip away upon the same 'till midnight. His severe disappointment upon having Froissart's presentation copy of his Chronicles[261] (gergeously [Transcriber's Note: gorgeously] attired as it must have been) taken from him by the Duke of Anjou, is alone a sufficient demonstration of his love of books; while his patronage of Chaucer shews that he had accurate notions of intellectual excellence. Printing had not yet begun to give any hint, however faint, of its wonderful powers; and scriveners or book-copiers were sufficiently ignorant and careless.[262]

[Footnote 261: Whether this presentation copy ever came, eventually, into the kingdom, is unknown. Mr. Johnes, who is as intimate with Froissart as Gough was with Camden, is unable to make up his mind upon the subject; but we may suppose it was properly emblazoned, &c. The duke detained it as being the property of an enemy to France!—Now, when we read of this wonderfully chivalrous age, so glowingly described by the great Gaston, Count de Foix, to Master Froissart, upon their introduction to each other (vide St. Palaye's memoir in the 10th vol. of L'Acadamie des Inscriptions, &c.), it does seem a gross violation (at least on the part of the Monsieur of France!) of all gentlemanly and knight-like feeling, to seize upon a volume of this nature, as legitimate plunder! The robber should have had his skin tanned, after death, for a case to keep the book in! Of Edward the Third's love of curiously bound books, see p. 118, ante.]

[Footnote 262: "How ordinary a fault this was (of 'negligently or willfully altering copies') amongst the transcribers of former times, may appear by Chaucer; who (I am confident) tooke as greate care as any man to be served with the best and heedfullest scribes, and yet we finde him complayning against Adam, his scrivener, for the very same:

So ofte a daye I mote thy worke renew, If to correct and eke to rubbe and scrape, And all is thorow thy neglegence and rape."

Ashmole Theatrum Chemicum; p. 439.]

The mention of Edward the Third, as a patron of learned men, must necessarily lead a book-antiquary to the notice of his eminent chancellor, RICHARD DE BURY; of whom, as you may recollect, some slight mention was made the day before yesterday.[263] It is hardly possible to conceive a more active and enthusiastic lover of books than was this extraordinary character; the passion never deserting him even while he sat upon the bench.[264] It was probably De Bury's intention to make his royal master eclipse his contemporary CHARLES THE VTH, of France—the most renowned foreign bibliomaniac of his age![265] In truth, my dear friends, what can be more delightful to a lover of his country's intellectual reputation than to find such a character as De Bury, in such an age of war and bloodshed, uniting the calm and mild character of a legislator, with the sagacity of a philosopher, and the elegant-mindedness of a scholar! Foreigners have been profuse in their commendations of him, and with the greatest justice; while our Thomas Warton, of ever-to-be-respected memory, has shewn us how pleasingly he could descend from the graver tone of a historical antiquary, by indulging himself in a chit-chat style of book-anecdote respecting this illustrious character.[266]

[Footnote 263: See p. 29, ante.]

[Footnote 264: "—patescebat nobis aditus facilis, regalis favoris intuitu, ad librorum latebras libere perscrutandas. Amoris quippe nostri fama volatilis jam ubique percrebuit, tamtumque librorum, et maxime veterum, ferebamur cupiditate languescere; posse vero quemlibet, nostrum per quaternos facilius, quam per pecuniam, adipisci favorem." Philobiblion; sive de Amore Librorum (vide p. 29, ante), p. 29: edit. 1599, 4to. But let the reader indulge me with another extract or two, containing evidence [Transcriber's Note: 'of' missing in original] the most unquestionable of the severest symptoms of the BIBLIOMANIA that ever assailed a Lord Chancellor or a Bishop!—Magliabechi must have read the ensuing passage with rapture: "Quamobrem cum praedicti principis recolendae memoriae bonitate suffulti, possemus obesse et prodesse, officere et proficere vehementer tam maioribus quam pusillis; affluxerunt, loco xeniorum et munerum, locoque, donorum et iocalium, temulenti quaterni, ac decripiti codices; nostris tamen tam affectibus, quam aspectibus, pretiosi. Tunc nobilissimorum monasteriorum aperiebantur armaria, referebantur scrinia, et cistulae solvebantur, et per longa secula in sepulchris soporata volumina, expergiscunt attonita, quaeque in locis tenebrosis latuerant, novae lucis radiis perfunduntur." "Delicatissimi quondam libri, corrupti et abhominabiles iam effecti, murium faetibus cooperti, et vermium morsibus terebrati, iacebant exanimes—et qui olim purpura vestiebantur et bysso, nunc in cinere et cilicio recubantes, oblivioni traditi videbantur, domicilia tinearum. Inter haec nihilominus, captatis temporibus, magis voluptuose consedimus, quam fecisset Medicus delicatus inter aromatum apothecas, ubi amoris nostri objectum reperimus et fomentum; sic sacra vasa scientiae, ad nostrae dispensationis provenerunt arbitrium: quaedam data, quaedam vendita, ac nonnulla protempore commodata. Nimirum cum nos plerique de hujusmodi donariis cernerent contentatos, ea sponte nostris usibus studuerent tribuere, quibus ipsi libentius caruerunt: quorum tamen negotia sic expedire curavimus gratiosi, ut et eisdem emolumentum accresceret, nullum tamen iustitia detrimentum sentiret." "Porro si scyphos aureos et argenteos, si equos egregios, si nummorum summas non modicas amassemus tunc temporis, dives nobis aerarium instaurasse possemus: sed revera LIBROS NON LIBRAS maluimus, codicesque plusquam florenos, ac panfletos exiguos incrassatis praetulimus palfridis," Philobiblion; p. 29, 30, &c. Dr. James's preface to this book, which will be noticed in its proper place, in another work, is the veriest piece of old maidenish particularity that ever was exhibited! However, the editor's enthusiastic admiration of De Bury obtains his forgiveness in the bosom of every honest bibliomaniac!]

[Footnote 265: CHARLES THE FIFTH, of France, may be called the founder of the Royal Library there. The history of his first efforts to erect a national library is thus, in part, related by the compilers of Cat. de la Bibliotheque Royale, pt. i., p. ij.-iij.: "This wise king took advantage of the peace which then obtained, in order to cultivate letters more successfully than had hitherto been done. He was learned for his age; and never did a prince love reading and book-collecting better than did he! He was not only constantly making transcripts himself, but the noblemen, courtiers, and officers that surrounded him voluntarily tendered their services in the like cause; while, on the other hand, a number of learned men, seduced by his liberal rewards, spared nothing to add to his literary treasures. Charles now determined to give his subjects every possible advantage from this accumulation of books; and, with this view, he lodged them in one of the Towers of the Louvre; which tower was hence called La Tour de la Librarie. The books occupied three stories: in the first, were desposited 269 volumes; in the second 260; and in the third, 381 volumes. In order to preserve them with the utmost care (say Sauval and Felibien), the king caused all the windows of the library to be fortified with iron bars; between which was painted glass, secured by brass-wires. And that the books might be accessible at all hours, there were suspended, from the ceiling, thirty chandeliers and a silver lamp, which burnt all night long. The walls were wainscotted with Irish wood; and the ceiling was covered with cypress wood: the whole being curiously sculptured in bas-relief." Whoever has not this catalogue at hand (vide p. 93, ante) to make himself master of still further curious particulars relating to this library, may examine the first and second volume of L'Academie des Inscriptions, &c.—from which the preceding account is taken. The reader may also look into Warton (Diss. 11, vol. i., sign. f. 2); who adds, on the authority of Boivin's Mem. Lit., tom. ii., p. 747, that the Duke of Bedford, regent of France, "in the year 1425 (when the English became masters of Paris) sent his whole library, then consisting of only 853 volumes, and valued at 2223 livres, into England," &c. I have little doubt but that Richard De Bury had a glimpse of this infantine royal collection, from the following passage—which occurs immediately after an account of his ambassadorial excursion—"O beate Deus Deorum in Syon, quantus impetus fluminis voluptatis laetificavit cor nostrum, quoties Paradisum mundi Parisios visitare vacavimus ibi moraturi? Ubi nobis semper dies pauci, prae amoris magnitudine, videbantur. Ibi Bibliothecae jucundae super sellas aromatum redolentes; ibi virens viridarium universorum voluminum," &c. Philobiblion; p. 31, edit. 1559.]

[Footnote 266: After having intruded, I fear, by the preceding note respecting French Bibliomania, there is only room left to say of our DE BURY—that he was the friend and correspondent of Petrarch—and that Mons. Sade, in his Memoirs of Petrarch, tells us that "the former did in England, what the latter all his life was doing in France, Italy, and Germany, towards the discovery of the best ancient writers, and making copies of them under his own superintendence." De Bury bequeathed a valuable library of MSS. to Durham, now Trinity College, Oxford. The books of this library were first packed up in chests; but upon the completion of the room to receive them, "they were put into pews or studies, and chained to them." Wood's History of the University of Oxford, vol. ii., p. 911. Gutch's edit. De Bury's Philobiblion, from which so much has been extracted, is said by Morhof to "savor somewhat of the rudeness of the age, but is rather elegantly written; and many things are well expressed in it relating to bibliothecism." Polyhist. Literar., vol. i., 187. The real author is supposed to have been Robert Holcott, a Dominican friar. I am, however, loth to suppress a part of what Warton has so pleasantly written (as above alluded to by Lysander) respecting such a favourite as DE BURY. "Richard de Bury, otherwise called Richard Aungervylle, is said to have alone possessed more books than all the bishops of England together. Beside the fixed libraries which he had formed in his several palaces, the floor of his common apartment was so covered with books that those who entered could not with due reverence approach his presence. He kept binders, illuminators, and writers, in his palaces. Petrarch says that he had once a conversation with him, concerning the island called by the ancients Thule; calling him 'virum ardentis ingenii.' While chancellor and treasurer, instead of the usual presents and new-year's gifts appendant to his office, he chose to receive those perquisites in books. By the favour of Edward III. he gained access to the libraries of most of the capital monasteries; where he shook off the dust from volumes, preserved in chests and presses, which had not been opened for many ages." Philobiblion, cap. 29, 30.—Warton also quotes, in English, a part of what had been already presented to the reader in its original Latin form. Hist. Engl. Poetry, vol. i., Diss. II., note g., sign. h. 4. Prettily painted as is this picture, by Warton, the colouring might have been somewhat heightened, and the effect rendered still more striking, in consequence, if the authority and the words of Godwyn had been a little attended to. In this latter's Catalogue of the Bishops of England, p. 524-5, edit. 1601, we find that De Bury was the son of one SIR RICHARD ANGARUILL, knight: "that he saith of himselfe 'exstatico quodam librorum amore potenter se abreptum'—that he was mightily carried away, and even beside himself, with immoderate love of bookes and desire of reading. He had alwaies in his house many chaplaines, all great schollers. His manner was, at dinner and supper-time, to haue some good booke read unto him, whereof he would discourse with his chaplaines a great part of the day following, if busines interrupted not his course. He was very bountiful unto the poore. Weekely he bestowed for their reliefe, 8 quarters of wheat made into bread, beside the offall and fragments of his tables. Riding betweene Newcastle and Durham he would give 8l. in almes; from Durham to Stocton, 5l.: from Durham to Aukland, 5 marks; from Durham to Middleham, 5l." &c. This latter is the "pars melior" of every human being; and bibliomaniacs seem to have possessed it as largely as any other tribe of mortals. I have examined Richardson's magnificent reprint of Godwyn's book, in the Latin tongue, London, 1743, folio; p. 747; and find nothing worth adding to the original text.]

LOREN. The task we have imposed upon you, my good Lysander, would be severe indeed if you were to notice, with minute exactness, all the book-anecdotes of the middle ages. You have properly introduced the name and authority of Warton; but if you suffered yourself to be beguiled by his enchanting style, into all the bibliographical gossiping of this period, you would have no mercy upon your lungs, and there would be no end to the disquisition.

LYSAND. Forgive me, if I have transgressed the boundaries of good sense or good breeding: it was not my intention to make a "Concio ad Aulam"—as worthy old Bishop Saunderson was fond of making—but simply to state facts, or indulge in book chit-chat, as my memory served me.

LIS. Nay, Lorenzo, do not disturb the stream of Lysander's eloquence. I could listen 'till "Jocund day stood tip-toe on the mountain."

PHIL. You are a little unconscionable, Lisardo: but I apprehend Lorenzo meant only to guard Lysander against that minuteness of narration which takes us into every library and every study of the period at which we are arrived. If I recollect aright, Warton was obliged to restrain himself in the same cause.[267]

[Footnote 267: The part alluded to, in Warton, is at the commencement of his second Dissertation "On the Introduction of Learning into Great Britain." After rambling with the utmost felicity, among the libraries, and especially the monastic ones, of the earlier and middle ages—he thus checks himself by saying, that "in pursuit of these anecdotes, he is imperceptibly seduced into later periods, or rather is deviating from his subject."]

LOREN. It belongs to me, Lysander, to solicit your forgiveness. If you are not tired with the discussion of such a various and extensive subject (and more particularly from the energetic manner in which it is conducted on your part), rely upon it that your auditors cannot possibly feel ennui. Every thing before us partakes of your enthusiasm: the wine becomes mellower, and sparkles with a ruddier glow; the flavour of the fruit is improved; and the scintillations of your conversational eloquence are scattered amidst my books, my busts, and my pictures. Proceed, I entreat you; but first, accept my libation offered up at the shrine of an offended deity.

LYSAND. You do me, and the Bibliomania, too much honour. If my blushes do not overpower me, I will proceed: but first, receive the attestation of the deity that he is no longer affronted with you. I drink to your health and long life!—and proceed:

If, among the numerous and gorgeous books which now surround us, it should be my good fortune to put my hand upon one, however small or imperfect, which could give us some account of the History of British Libraries, it would save me a great deal of trouble, by causing me to maintain at least a chronological consistency in my discourse. But, since this cannot be—since, with all our love of books and of learning, we have this pleasing desideratum yet to be supplied—I must go on, in my usual desultory manner, in rambling among libraries, and discoursing about books and book-collectors. As we enter upon the reign of HENRY IV., we cannot avoid the mention of that distinguished library hunter, and book describer, JOHN BOSTON of Bury;[268] who may justly be considered the Leland of his day. Gale, if I recollect rightly, unaccountably describes his bibliomaniacal career as having taken place in the reign of Henry VII.; but Bale and Pits, from whom Tanner has borrowed his account, unequivocally affix the date of 1410 to Boston's death; which is three years before the death of Henry. It is allowed, by the warmest partizans of the reformation, that the dissolution of the monastic libraries has unfortunately rendered the labours of Boston of scarcely any present utility.

[Footnote 268: It is said of BOSTON that he visited almost every public library, and described the titles of every book therein, with punctilious accuracy. Pits (593) calls him "vir pius, litteratus, et bonarum litterarum fautor ac promotor singularis." Bale (p. 549, edit. 1559) has even the candour to say, "mira sedulitate et diligentia omnes omnium regni monasteriorum bibliothecas invisit: librorum collegit titulos, et authorum eorum nomina: quae omnia alphabetico disposuit ordine, et quasi unam omnium bibliothecam fecit." What Lysander observes above is very true: "non enim dissimulanda (says Gale) monasteriorum subversio, quae brevi spatio subsecuta est—libros omnes dispersit et BOSTONI providam diligentiam, maxima ex parte, inutilem reddidit." Rer. Anglicar. Scrip. Vet., vol. iii., praef. p. 1. That indefatigable antiquary, Thomas Hearne, acknowledges that, in spite of all his researches in the Bodleian library, he was scarcely able to discover any thing of Boston's which related to Benedictus Abbas—and still less of his own compositions. Bened. Abbat. vol. i., praef. p. xvii. It is a little surprising that Leland should have omitted to notice him. But the reader should consult Tanner's Bibl. Britan., p. xvii., 114.]

There is a curious anecdote of this period in Rymer's Foedera,[269] about taking off the duty upon six barrels of books, sent by a Roman Cardinal to the prior of the Conventual church of St. Trinity, Norwich. These barrels, which lay at the custom-house, were imported duty free; and I suspect that Henry's third son, the celebrated John Duke of Bedford, who was then a lad, and just beginning to feed his bibliomaniacal appetite, had some hand in interceding with his father for the redemption of the duty.

[Footnote 269: Vol. viii., p. 501. It is a Clause Roll of the 9th of Henry IV. A.D. 1407: "De certis Libris, absque Custumenda solvenda, liberandis;" and affords too amusing a specimen of custom-house latinity to be withheld from the reader. "Mandamus vobis, quod certos libros in sex Barellis contentos, Priori qt Conventui Ecclesiae Sanctae Trinitatis Norwici, per quendam Adam nuper Cardinalem legatos, et in portum civitatis nostrae predictae (Londinensis) ab urbe Romana jam adductos, praefato, Priori, absque Custuma seu subsidio inde ad opus nostrum capiendis, liberetis indilate," &c.]

LIS. This DUKE OF BEDFORD was the most notorious bibliomaniac as well as warrior of his age; and, when abroad, was indefatigable in stirring up the emulation of Flemish and French artists, to execute for him the most splendid books of devotion. I have heard great things of what goes by the name of The Bedford Missal![270]

[Footnote 270: This missal, executed under the eye and for the immediate use of the famous John, Duke of Bedford (regent of France), and Jane (the daughter of the Duke of Burgundy) his wife, was, at the beginning of the 18th century, in the magnificent library of Harley, Earl of Oxford. It afterwards came into the collection of his daughter, the well-known Duchess of Portland; at whose sale, in 1786, it was purchased by Mr. Edwards for 215 guineas; and 500 guineas have been, a few years ago, offered for this identical volume. It is yet the property of this last mentioned gentleman. Among the pictures in it, there is an interesting one of the whole length portraits of the Duke and Duchess;—the head of the former of which has been enlarged and engraved by Vertue for his portraits to illustrate the History of England. The missal frequently displays the arms of these noble personages; and also affords a pleasing testimony of the affectionate gallantry of the pair; the motto of the former being "A VOUS ENTIER:" that of the latter, "J'EN SUIS CONTENTE." There is a former attestation in the volume, of its having been given by the Duke to his nephew, Henry VI. as "a most suitable present." But the reader shall consult (if he can procure it) Mr. Gough's curious little octavo volume written expressly upon the subject.]

LYSAND. And not greater than what merits to be said of it. I have seen this splendid bijou in the charming collection of our friend ——. It is a small thick folio, highly illuminated; and displaying, as well in the paintings as in the calligraphy, the graphic powers of that age, which had not yet witnessed even the dry pencil of Perugino. More gorgeous, more beautifully elaborate, and more correctly graceful, missals may be in existence; but a more curious, interesting, and perfect specimen, of its kind, is no where to be seen: the portraits of the Duke and of his royal brother Henry V. being the best paintings known of the age. 'Tis, in truth, a lovely treasure in the book way; and it should sleep every night upon an eider-down pillow encircled with emeralds!

LIS. Hear him—hear him! Lysander must be a collateral descendant of this noble bibliomaniac, whose blood, now circulating in his veins, thus moves him to "discourse most eloquently."

LYSAND. Banter as you please; only "don't disturb the stream of my eloquence."

The period of this distinguished nobleman was that in which book-collecting began to assume a fixed and important character in this country. Oxford saw a glimmering of civilization dawning in her obscured atmosphere. A short but dark night had succeeded the patriotic efforts of De Bury; whose curious volumes, bequeathed to Trinity College, had laid in a melancholy and deserted condition 'till they were kept company by those of COBHAM, Bishop of Worcester, REDE, Bishop of Chichester, and HUMPHREY the good Duke of Gloucester.[271] Now began the fashion (and may it never fall to decay!) of making presents to public libraries:—but, during the short and splendid career of HENRY V., learning yielded to arms: the reputation of a scholar to that of a soldier. I am not aware of any thing at this period, connected with the subject of our discourse, that deserves particular mention; although we ought never to name this illustrious monarch, or to think of his matchless prowess in arms, without calling to mind how he adorned the rough character of a soldier by the manners of a prince, the feelings of a Christian, and, I had almost said, the devotion of a saint.

[Footnote 271: We will first notice COBHAM, Bishop of Worcester: who "having had a great desire to show some love to his mother the university of Oxford, began, about the year 1320, to build, or at least to make some reparations for a Library, over the old congregation house in the north church-yard of St. Mary's; but he dying soon after, before any considerable matter was done therein, left certain moneys for the carrying on of the work, and all his books, with others that had been lately procured, to be, with those belonging to the university (as yet kept in chests) reposed therein." Some controversy afterwards arising between the University and Oriel College, to which latter Cobham belonged, the books lay in dreary and neglected state till 1367; when a room having been built for their reception, it was settled that they "should be reposed and chained in the said room or solar; that the scholars of the University should have free ingress and regress, at certain times, to make proficiency in them; that certain of the said books, of greater price, should be sold, till the sum of l. 40 was obtained for them (unless other remedy could be found) with which should be bought an yearly rent of l. 3, for the maintenance of a chaplain, that should pray for the soul of the said bishop, and other benefactors of the University both living and dead, and have the custody or oversight of the said books, and of those in the ancient chest of books, and chest of rolls." Wood's Hist. of the University of Oxford, vol. ii., pt. ii., 911. Gutch's edit. WILLIAM REDE, or READ, bishop of Chichester, "sometimes Fellow (of Merton College) gave a chest with l. 100 in gold in it, to be borrowed by the Fellows for their relief; bond being first given in by them to repay it at their departure from the college; or, in case they should die, to be paid by their executors: A.D. 1376. He also built, about the same time, a Library in the college; being the first that the society enjoyed, and gave books thereunto." Wood's History of the Colleges and Halls, p. 15, Gutch's edit. In Mr. Nicholl's Appendix to the History of Leicester, p. 105, note 20, I find some account of this distinguished literary character, taken from Tanner's Bibl. Britan., p. 618. He is described, in both authorities, as being a very learned Fellow of Merton College, where he built and furnished a noble library; on the wall of which was painted his portrait, with this inscription: "GULIELMUS REDAEUS, EPISCOPUS CICESTRENSIS, MAGISTER IN THEOLOGIA, PROFUNDUS ASTRONOMUS, QUONDAM SOCIUS ISTIUS COLLEGII, QUI HANC LIBRARIAM FIERI FECIT." Many of Read's mathematical instruments, as well as his portrait, were preserved in the library when Harrison wrote his description of England, prefix'd to Holinshed's Chronicles; some of the former of which came into the possession of the historian. For thus writes Harrison: "William Read, sometime fellow of Merteine college in Oxford, doctor of divinitie, and the most profound astronomer that liued in his time, as appeareth by his collection, which some time I did possesse; his image is yet in the librarie there; and manie instruments of astronomie reserued in that house," &c. Chronicles (1587), edit. 1807, vol. i., p. 237. In the year 1808, when I visited the ancient and interesting brick-floored library of Merton College, for the purpose of examining early printed books, I looked around in vain for the traces, however faded, of Read's portrait: nor could I discover a single vestige of the BIBLIOTHECA READIANA! The memory of this once celebrated bishop lives therefore only in what books have recorded of him; and this brief and verbal picture of Read is here drawn—as was the more finished resemblance of Chaucer by the pencil, which Occleve has left behind—

That thei that have of him lost thoute and mynde By this peinture may ageine him fynde.

HUMPHREY, Duke of GLOUCESTER, "commonly called the good, was youngest brother to Henry V. and the first founder of the university library in Oxford, which was pillaged of the greater part of its books in the reign of Edward the Sixth." Park's edit. of the Royal and Noble Authors; vol. i., 198. "As for the books which he gave (says Wood) they were very many, more by far than authors report; for whereas 'tis said he gave 129, you shall find anon that they were more than treble the number." The Duke's first gift, in 1439, of one hundred and twenty-nine treatises, was worth, according to Wood, a thousand pounds. All his book presents, "amounting to above 600 (mostly treating of divinity, physic, history, and humanity) which were from several parts of the world obtained, were transmitted to the university, and for the present laid up in chests in Cobham's library. The catalogue also of them which were then sent, and the indentures for the receipt of the said books, were laid up in the chest called Cista Librorum et Rotulorum." History (or Annals) of the University of Oxford; vol. ii., pt. ii., 914. Gutch's edit. Consult also the recent and very amusing History of the same University, by Mr. A. Chalmers, vol. ii., p. 459. Leland has not forgotten this distinguished bibliomaniac; for he thus lauds him in roman verse:

Tam clari meminit viri togata Recte Gallia; tum chorus suavis Cygnorum Isidis ad vadum incolentum Cui magnum numerum dedit BONORUM LIBRORUM, statuitque sanctiori Divinus studio scholae theatrum; Nostro quale quidem videtur esse Magnum tempore, forsan et futuro

Cygn. Cant. Vide Lelandi Itinerarium Cura Hearne; edit. 1770, vol. ix., p. 17.]

The reign of his successor, HENRY VI., was the reign of trouble and desolation. It is not to be wondered that learning drooped, and religion "waxed faint," 'midst the din of arms and the effusion of human blood. Yet towards the close of this reign some attempt was made to befriend the book cause; for the provost and fellows of Eton and Cambridge petitioned the king to assist them in increasing the number of books in their libraries;[272] but the result of this petition has never, I believe, been known.

[Footnote 272: In the manuscript history of Eton College, in the British Museum (MSS. Donat. 4840, p. 154.), the Provost and Fellows of Eton and Cambridge are stated, in the 25th of Henry the Sixth, to have petitioned the king that, as these new colleges were not sufficiently seised of books for divine service, and for their libraries, he would be pleased to order one of his chaplains, Richard Chestre, "to take to him such men as shall be seen to him expedient in order to get knowledge where such bookes may be found, paying a reasonable price for the same, and that the sayd men might have the first choice of such bookes, ornaments, &c., before any man, and in especiall of all manner of bookes, ornaments, and other necessaries as now late were perteynyng to the Duke of Gloucester, and that the king would particular(ly) cause to be employed herein John Pye his stacioner of London." For this anecdote I am indebted to Sir H. Ellis. See also the interesting note in Warton's Hist. Engl. Poet., diss. ii., sign. f. 2.]

I had nearly passed through the reign of Henry the Sixth without noticing the very meritorious labours of a sort of precursor of Dean Colet; I mean, SIR WALTER SHERINGTON. He was a most assiduous bibliomaniac;[273] and, in the true spirit of ancient monachism, conceived that no cathedral could be perfect without a library. Accordingly, he not only brought together an extraordinary number of curious books, but framed laws or regulations concerning the treatment of the books, and the hours of perusing them; which, if I can trust to my memory, are rather curious, and worth your examination. They are in Hearne's edition of the Antiquities of Glastonbury, composed in our own language.

[Footnote 273: "Over the east quadrant of this (great) cloyster (on the north side of this church) was a fayre librarie, builded at the costes and charges of (Sir) WALTAR SHERINGTON, chancellor of the duchie of Lancaster, in the raigne of Henrie the 6. which hath beene well furnished with faire written books IN VELLEM: but few of them now do remaine there." Antiquities of Glastonbury; Hearne's edit. 1722; p. 308.

Regulations concerning Sherington's Library.

"Quodque dicta libraria, hostiis ipsius per praefatos capellanos custodes ejusdem, et eorum successores, aut alterum ipsorum, apertis singulis diebus profestis annuatim a festo Nativ. beat. Mar. Virg. usque festum Annunciacionis ejusdem, ob ortu solis, donec hora nona post altam missam de servicio diei in dicta ecclesia cathedrali finiatur: et iterum ab hora prima post meridiem usque ad finem completorii in eadem ecclesia cathedrali, vel saltem usque ad occasum solis per eosdem, seu eorum alterum, sic continue diligenter custodiatur. Et eciam singulis diebus profestis annuatim, ab eodem festo Annunciacionis beatae Mariae Virginis usque ad praedictum festum nativitatis ejusdem, ab hora diei sexta, donec hora nona post altam missam in dicta ecclesia cathedrali, et iterum ab hora prima post meridiem quosque completorium in eadem ecclesia cathedrali finiatur, per praefatos capellanos, seu eorum alterum et successores suos custodes dictae librariae debite et diligenter aperta, custodiatur, nisi causa racionabilis hoc fieri impediat. Ita quod nullum dampnum eidem librariae aut in libris, aut in hostiis, seruris vel fenestris vitreis ejusdem, ex negligencia dictorum capellanorum aut successorum suorum custodum dictae librariae evenire contingat. Et si quid dampnum hujusmodi in praemissis, seu aliquo praemissorum, per negligenciam ipsorum capellanorum, seu eorum alterius, aut successorum suorum quoque modo imposterum evenerit, id vel ipsa dampnum aut dampna recompensare, emendare et satisfacere, tociens quociens contigerit, de salariis seu stipendiis suis propriis, auctoritate et judicio dictorum Decani et Capituli, debeant et teneantur, ut est justum. Ceteris vero diebus, noctibus et temporibus hostia praedicta, cum eorum seruris et clavibus, omnino sint clausa et secure serata." Id.: p. 193.]

We now enter upon the reign of an active and enterprising monarch; who, though he may be supposed to have cut his way to the throne by his sword, does not appear to have persecuted the cause of learning; but rather to have looked with a gracious eye upon its operations by means of the press. In the reign of EDWARD IV., our venerable and worthy Caxton fixed the first press that ever was set to work in this country, in the abbey of Westminster. Yes, Lorenzo; now commenced more decidedly, the aera of BIBLIOMANIA! Now the rich, and comparatively poor, began to build them small Book Rooms or Libraries. At first, both the architecture and furniture were sufficiently rude, if I remember well the generality of wood cuts of ancient book-boudoirs:—a few simple implements only being deemed necessary; and a three-legged stool, "in fashion square or round," as Cowper[274] says, was thought luxury sufficient for the hard student to sit upon. Now commenced a general love and patronage of books: now (to borrow John Fox's language) "tongues became known, knowledge grew, judgment increased, BOOKS WERE DISPERSED, the scripture was read, stories were opened, times compared, truth discerned, falsehood detected, and with finger pointed (at)—and all, THROUGH THE BENEFIT OF PRINTING."[275]

[Footnote 274: The entire passage is worth extraction: as it well describes many an old stool which has served for many a studious philosopher:

"Joint stools were then created: on three legs Upborne they stood. Three legs upholding firm A massy slab, in fashion square or round. On such a stool immortal Alfred sat, And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms. And such in ancient halls and mansions drear May still be seen; but perforated sore, And drilled in holes, the solid oak is found, By worms voracious eating through and through."

Task: b. i., v. 19, &c.

It had escaped the amiable and sagacious author of these verses that such tripodical seats were frequently introduced into OLD BOOK-ROOMS; as the subjoined print—which gives us also a curious picture of one of the libraries alluded to by Lysander—may serve to shew:

]

[Footnote 275: Book of Martyrs, vol. i., p. 927; edit. 1641.]

LIS. Now you have arrived at this period, pray concentrate your anecdotes into a reasonable compass. As you have inveigled us into the printing-office of Caxton, I am fearful, from your strong attachment to him, that we shall not get over the threshhold of it, into the open air again, until midnight.

PHIL. Order, order, Lisardo! This is downright rudeness. I appeal to the chair!—

LORENZ. Lisardo is unquestionably reprehensible. His eagerness makes him sometimes lose sight of good breeding.

LYSAND. I was going to mention some Vellum and Presentation copies—but I shall hurry forward.

LIS. Nay, if you love me, omit nothing about "vellum and presentation copies." Speak at large upon these glorious subjects.

LYSAND. Poor Lisardo!—we must build an iron cage to contain such a book-madman as he promises to become!

PHIL. Proceed, dear Lysander, and no longer heed these interruptions.

LYSAND. Nay, I was only about to observe that, as Caxton is known to have printed upon vellum,[276] it is most probable that one of his presentation copies of the romances of Jason and Godfrey of Boulogne (executed under the patronage of Edward IV.), might have been printed in the same manner. Be this as it may, it seems reasonable to conclude that Edward the Fourth was not only fond of books, as objects of beauty or curiosity, but that he had some affection for literature and literary characters; for how could the firm friend and generous patron of TIPTOFT, EARL of WORCESTER—with whom this monarch had spent many a studious, as well as jovial, hour—be insensible to the charms of intellectual refinement! Pause we here for one moment—and let us pour the juice of the blackest grape upon the votive tablet, consecrated to the memory of this illustrious nobleman! and, as Caxton has become so fashionable[277] among us, I will read to you, from yonder beautiful copy of his English edition of "Tully upon Friendship," a part of our printer's affecting eulogy upon the translator:—"O good blessed Lord God, what great loss was it of that noble, virtuous, and well-disposed lord! When I remember and advertise his life, his science, and his virtue, me thinketh God not displeased over a great loss of such a man, considering his estate and cunning," &c. "At his death every man that was there, might learn to die and take his (own) death patiently; wherein I hope and doubt not, but that God received his soul into his everlasting bliss. For as I am informed he right advisedly ordained all his things, as well for his last will of worldly goods, as for his soul's health; and patiently, and holily, without grudging, in charity, to fore that he departed out of this world: which is gladsome and joyous to hear."—What say you to this specimen of Caxtonian eloquence?

[Footnote 276: Consult the recent edition of the Typographical Antiquities of our own country: vol. i., p. 56, 137, 268.]

[Footnote 277: As a proof of the ardour with which the books printed by him are now sought after, the reader shall judge for himself—when he is informed that an imperfect copy of the Golden Legend, one of Caxton's commonest productions, produced at a book sale, a few months ago, the sum of twenty-seven guineas!]

LIS. It has a considerable merit; but my attention has been a good deal diverted, during your appropriate recital of it, to the beautiful condition of the copy. Thrice happy Lorenzo! what sum will convey this volume to my own library!

LOREN. No offer, in the shape of money, shall take it hence. I am an enthusiast in the cause of Tiptoft; and am always upon the watch to discover any volume, printed by Caxton, which contains the composition of the hapless Earl of Worcester! Dr. Henry has spoken so handsomely of him, and Mr. Park, in his excellent edition of Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors,[278] has made his literary character so interesting that, considering the dearth of early good English authors,[279] I know of no other name that merits greater respect and admiration.

[Footnote 278: Vol i., p. 200, &c. History of Great Britain, by Dr. Henry, vol. x., p. 143, &c.]

[Footnote 279: "In the library of Glastonbury abbey, in 1248, there were but four books in Engleish, &c. We have not a single historian, in Engleish prose, before the reign of Richard the Second; when John Treviza translateed the Polychronicon of Randal Higden. Boston of Bury, who seems to have consulted all the monasterys in Engleland, does not mention one author who had written in Engleish; and Bale, at a lateer period, has, comparatively, but an insignificant number: nor was Leland so fortunate as to find above two or three Engleish books, in the monastick and other librarys, which he rummage'd, and explore'd, under the king's commission." Ritson's Dissertation on Romance and Minstrelsy: prefixed to his Ancient Engleish Metrical Romancees, vol. i., p. lxxxi.]

LYSAND. True; and this nobleman's attention to the acquisition of fine and useful books, when he was abroad, for the benefit of his own country,[280] gives him a distinguished place in the list of BIBLIOMANIACS. I dare say Lisardo would give some few hundred guineas for his bust, executed by Flaxman, standing upon a pedestal composed of the original editions of his works, bound in grave-coloured morocco by his favourite Faulkener?[281]

[Footnote 280: Dr. Henry's History of Great Britain; ibid.: from which a copious note has been given in the new edition of our Typographical Antiquities; vol. i., p. 127, &c.]

[Footnote 281: Henry Faulkener, no. 4, George Court, near the Adelphi, in the Strand. An honest, industrious, and excellent book-binder: who, in his mode of re-binding ancient books is not only scrupulously particular in the preservation of that important part of a volume, the margin; but, in his ornaments of tooling, is at once tasteful and exact. Notwithstanding these hard times, and rather a slender bodily frame, and yet more slender purse—with five children, and the prospect of five more—honest Mr. Faulkener is in his three-pair-of-stairs confined workshop by five in the morning winter and summer, and oftentimes labours 'till twelve at night. Severer toil, with more uniform good humour and civility in the midst of all his embarrassments, were never perhaps witnessed in a brother of the ancient and respectable craft of Book-binding!]

LIS. I entreat you not to inflame my imagination by such tantalizing pictures! You know this must ever be a fiction: the most successful bibliomaniac never attained to such human happiness.

PHIL. Leave Lisardo to his miseries, and proceed.

LYSAND. I have supposed Edward to have spent some jovial hours with this unfortunate nobleman. It is thought that our monarch and he partook of the superb feast which was given by the famous NEVELL, archbishop of York, at the inthronization of the latter; and I am curious to know of what the library of such a munificent ecclesiastical character was composed! But perhaps this feast itself[282] is one of Lisardo's fictions.

[Footnote 282: Lysander is perfectly correct about the feast which was given at the archbishop's inthronization; as the particulars of it—"out of an old paper roll in the archives of the Bodleian library," are given by Hearne in the sixth volume of Leland's Collectanea, p. 1-14: and a most extraordinary and amusing bill of fare it is. The last twenty dinners given by the Lord Mayors at Guildhall, upon the first day of their mayoralties, were only sandwiches—compared with such a repast! What does the reader think of 2000 chickens, 4000 pigeons, 4000 coneys, 500 "and mo," stags, bucks, and roes, with 4000 "pasties of venison colde?"—and these barely an 18th part of the kind of meats served up! At the high table our amiable EARL of WORCESTER was seated, with the Archbishop, three Bishops, the Duke of Suffolk, and the Earl of Oxford. The fictitious archiepiscopal feast was the one intended to be given by NEVELL to Edward IV.; when the latter "appointed a day to come to hunt in More in Hertfordshire, and make merry with him." Nevell made magnificent preparations for the royal visit; but instead of receiving the monarch as a guest, he was saluted by some of his officers, who "arrested him for treason," and imprisoned him at Calais and Guisnes. The cause of this sudden, and apparently monstrous, conduct, on the part of Edward, has not been told by Stow (Chronicles, p. 426; edit. 1615), nor by Godwyn, (Catalogue of the Bishops of England, p. 481, edit. 1601): both of whom relate the fact with singular naivete. I have a strong suspicion that Nevell was so far a bibliomaniac as to have had a curious collection of astrological books; for "there was greate correspondency betweene this Archbishop and the Hermetique philosophers of his time; and this is partly confirmed to me from Ripley's dedication of his 'Medulla' to him, ann. 1746; as also the presentation of Norton's 'Ordinall,'" &c. Thus writes Ashmole, in his Theatrum Chemicum, p. 455.]

Enough has probably been said of Edward. We will stop, therefore, but a minute, to notice the completion of the HUMPHREY LIBRARY, and the bibliomaniacal spirit of master RICHARD COURTNEY,[283] during the same reign; and give but another minute to the mention of the statute of RICHARD III. in protection of English printers,[284] when we reach the AUGUSTAN BOOK-AGE, in the reign of HENRY VII.

[Footnote 283: Speaking of the public library of Oxford, at this period, Hearne tells us, from a letter sent by him to Thomas Baker, that there was "a chaplein of the Universitie chosen, after the maner of a Bedell, and to him was the custodie of the librarye committed, his stipend—cvis. and viiid. his apparell found him de secta generosorum. No man might come in to studdie but graduats and thoes of 8 years contynuance in the Universitie, except noblemen. All that come in must firste sweare to use the bookes well, and not to deface theim, and everye one after at his proceedings must take the licke othe. Howers apoynted when they shuld come in to studdie, viz. betwene ix and xi aforenoone, and one and four afternoone, the keper geving attendaunce: yet a prerogative was graunted the chancelour MR. RICHARD COURTNEY to come in when he pleased, during his own lieffe, so it was in the day-tyme: and the cause seemeth, that he was CHEIFFE CAWSER AND SETTER ON OF THE LIBRARYE." Curious Discourses by Eminent Antiquaries; vol. ii., p. 410., edit. 1775.]

[Footnote 284: See page 114, ante. When Lysander talks, above, of the reign of Henry the Seventh being the "AUGUSTAN AGE for BOOKS," he must be supposed to allude to the facility and beauty of publishing them by means of THE PRESS: for at this period, abroad, the typographical productions of Verard, Eustace, Vostre, Bonfons, Pigouchet, Regnier, and many others ("quae nunc perscribere longum est") were imitated, and sometimes equalled by W. de Worde, Pynson, and Notary, at home. In regard to intellectual fame, if my authority be good, "in the reign of Henry VII. Greek was a stranger in both universities; and so little even of Latin had Cambridge, of its own growth, that it had not types sufficient to furnish out the common letters and epistles of the University. They usually employed an Italian, one Caius Auberinus, to compose them, whose ordinarry [Transcriber's Note: ordinary] fee was twentypence a letter." (MSS. in Benet College Library, lib. P. p. 194,) Ridley's Life of Ridley, p. 22. "Greek began to be taught in both universities: quietly at Cambridge, but ('Horresco referens!') with some tumult at Oxford!" ibid.]

PHIL. Before we proceed to discuss the bibliomaniacal ravages of this age, we had better retire, with Lorenzo's leave, to the DRAWING-ROOM; to partake of a beverage less potent than that which is now before us.

LORENZ. Just as you please. But I should apprehend that Lysander could hold out 'till he reached the Reformation;—and, besides, I am not sure whether our retreat be quite ready for us.

LIS. Pray let us not take leave of all these beauteous books, and busts, and pictures, just at present. If Lysander's lungs will bear him out another twenty minutes, we shall, by that time, have reached the Reformation; and then "our retreat," as Lorenzo calls it, may be quite ready for our reception.

LYSAND. Settle it between yourselves. But I think I could hold out for another twenty minutes—since you will make me your only book-orator.

LORENZ. Let it be so, then. I will order the lamps to be lit; so that Lisardo may see his favourite Wouvermans and Berghems, in company with my romances, (which latter are confined in my satin-wood book-case) to every possible degree of perfection!

LYSAND. Provided you indulge me also with a sight of these delightful objects, you shall have what you desire:—and thus I proceed:

Of the great passion of HENRY THE VIITH for fine books, even before he ascended the throne of England,[285] there is certainly no doubt. And while he was king, we may judge, even from the splendid fragments of his library, which are collected in the British Museum, of the nicety of his taste, and of the soundness of his judgment. That he should love extravagant books of devotion,[286] as well as histories and chronicles, must be considered the fault of the age, rather than of the individual. I will not, however, take upon me to say that the slumbers of this monarch were disturbed in consequence of the extraordinary and frightful passages, which, accompanied with bizarre cuts,[287] were now introduced into almost every work, both of ascetic divinity and also of plain practical morality. His predecessor, Richard, had in all probability been alarmed by the images which the reading of these books had created; and I guess that it was from such frightful objects, rather than from the ghosts of his murdered brethren, that he was compelled to pass a sleepless night before the memorable battle of Bosworth Field. If one of those artists who used to design the horrible pictures which are engraved in many old didactic volumes of this period had ventured to take a peep into Richard's tent, I question whether he would not have seen, lying upon an oaken table, an early edition of some of those fearful works of which he had himself aided in the embellishment, and of which Heinecken has given us such curious fac-similes:[288]—and this, in my humble apprehension, is quite sufficient to account for all the terrible workings in Richard, which Shakespeare has so vividly described.

[Footnote 285: Mr. Heber has a fine copy of one of the volumes of a black-letter edition of Froissart, printed by Eustace, upon the exterior of the binding of which are HENRY'S arms, with his name—HENRICVS DVX RICHMVNDIAE. The very view of such a book, while it gives comfort to a low-spirited bibliomaniac, adds energy to the perseverance of a young collector! the latter of whom fondly, but vainly, thinks he may one day be blessed with a similar treasure!]

[Footnote 286: The possession of such a volume as "The Revelations of the monk of Euesham" (vide vol. ii., of the new edition of Brit. Typog. Antiquities), is evidence sufficient of Henry's attachment to extravagant books of devotion.]

[Footnote 287: It is certainly one of the comforts of modern education, that girls and boys have nothing to do, even in the remotest villages, with the perusal of such books as were put into the juvenile hands of those who lived towards the conclusion of the 15th century. One is at a loss to conceive how the youth of that period could have ventured at night out of doors, or slept alone in a darkened room, without being frightened out of their wits! Nor could maturer life be uninfluenced by reading such volumes as are alluded to in the text: and as to the bed of death—that must have sometimes shaken the stoutest faith, and disturbed the calmest piety. For what can be more terrible, and at the same time more audacious, than human beings arrogating to themselves the powers of the deity, and denouncing, in equivocal cases, a certainty and severity of future punishment, equally revolting to scripture and common sense? To drive the timid into desperation, and to cut away the anchor of hope from the rational believer, seem, among other things, to have been the objects of these "ascetic" authors; while the pictures, which were suffered to adorn their printed works, confirmed the wish that, where the reader might not comprehend the text, he could understand its illustration by means of a print. I will give two extracts, and one of these "bizarre cuts," in support of the preceding remarks. At page 168, ante, the reader will find a slight mention of the subject: he is here presented with a more copious illustration of it. "In likewise there is none that may declare the piteous and horrible cries and howlings the which that is made in hell, as well of devils as of other damned. And if that a man demand what they say in crying; the answer: All the damned curseth the Creator. Also they curse together as their father and their mother, and the hour that they were begotten, and that they were born, and that they were put unto nourishing, and those that them should correct and teach, and also those the which have been the occasion of their sins, as the bawd, cursed be the bawd, and also of other occasions in diverse sins. The second cause of the cry of them damned is for the consideration that they have of the time of mercy, the which is past, in the which they may do penance and purchase paradise. The third cause is of their cry for by cause of the horrible pains of that they endure. As we may consider that if an hundred persons had every of them one foot and one hand in the fire, or in the water seething without power to die, what bruit and what cry they should make; but that should be less than nothing in comparison of devils and of other damned, for they ben more than an hundred thousand thousands, the which all together unto them doeth noysaunce, and all in one thunder crying and braying horribly."—Thordynary of Crysten Men, 1506, 4to., k k. ii., rect. Again: from a French work written "for the amusement of all worthy ladies and gentlemen:"

De la flamme tousiours esprise De feu denfer qui point ne brise De busches nest point actise Ne de soufflemens embrase Le feu denfer, mais est de Dieu Cree pour estre en celuy lieu Des le premier commencement Sans jamais pendre finement Illec nya point de clarte Mais de tenebres obscurte De peine infinie durte De miseres eternite Pleur et estraignement de dens Chascun membre aura la dedans Tourmmens selon ce qua forfait La peine respondra au fait, &c. &c. &c.

Le passe tempe de tout home, et de toute femme; sign. q. ii., rev.

Printed by Verard in 8vo., without date: (from a copy, printed upon vellum, in the possession of John Lewis Goldsmyd, Esq.)—The next extract is from a book which was written to amuse and instruct the common people: being called by Warton a "universal magazine of every article of salutary and useful knowledge." Hist. Engl. Poetry: vol. ii., 195.

In hell is great mourning Great trouble of crying Of thunder noises roaring with plenty of wild fire Beating with great strokes like guns with a great frost in water runs And after a bitter wind comes which goeth through the souls with ire There is both thirst and hunger fiends with hooks putteth their flesh asunder They fight and curse and each on other wonder with the fight of the devils dreadable There is shame and confusion Rumour of conscience for evil living They curse themself with great crying In smoak and stink they be evermore lying with other pains innumerable.

Kalendar of Shepherds. Sign G. vij. rev. Pynson's edit., fol.



Specimens of some of the tremendous cuts which are crowded into this thin folio will be seen in the second volume of the new edition of the Typographical Antiquities. However, that the reader's curiosity may not here be disappointed, he is presented with a similar specimen, on a smaller scale, of one of the infernal tortures above described. It is taken from a book whose title conveys something less terrific; and describes a punishment which is said to be revealed by the Almighty to St. Bridget against those who have "ornamenta indecentia in capitibus et pedibus, et reliquis membris, ad provocandum luxuriam et irritandum deum, in strictis vestibus, ostensione mamillarum, unctionibus," &c. Revelaciones sancte Birgitte; edit. Koeberger, 1521, fol., sign. q., 7, rev.]

[Footnote 288: See many of the cuts in that scarce and highly coveted volume, entitled, "Idee Generale d'une Collection complette d'Estampes." Leips. 1771, 8vo.]

LIS. This is, at least, an original idea; and has escaped the sagacity of every commentator in the last twenty-one volume edition of the works of our bard.

LYSAND. But to return to Henry. I should imagine that his mind was not much affected by the perusal of this description of books: but rather that he was constantly meditating upon some old arithmetical work—the prototype of Cocker—which, in the desolation of the ensuing half century, has unfortunately perished. Yet, if this monarch be accused of avaricious propensities—if, in consequence of speculating deeply in large paper and vellum copies, he made his coffers to run over with gold—it must be remembered that he was, at the same time, a patron as well as judge of architectural artists; and while the completion of the structure of King's college Chapel, Cambridge, and the building of his own magnificent chapel[289] at Westminster (in which latter, I suspect, he had a curiously-carved gothic closet for the preservation of choice copies from Caxton's neighbouring press), afford decisive proofs of Henry's skill in matters of taste, the rivalship of printers and of book-buyers shews that the example of the monarch was greatly favourable to the propagation of the Bibliomania. Indeed, such was the progress of the book-disease that, in the very year of Henry's death, appeared, for the first time in this country, an edition of The Ship of Fools—in which work, ostentatious and ignorant book-collectors[290] are, amongst other characters, severely satirized.

[Footnote 289: Harpsfield speaks with becoming truth and spirit of Henry's great attention to ecclesiastical establishments: "Splendidum etiam illud sacellum westmonasterij, magno sumptu atque magnificentia ab eodem est conditum. In quod coenobium valde fuit liberalis et munificus. Nullumque fere fuit in tota Anglia monachorum, aut fratrum coenobium, nullum collegium, cujus preces, ad animam ipsius Deo post obitum commendandam, sedulo non expetierat. Legavit autem singulorum praefectis sex solidos et octo denarios, singulis autem eorundem presbyteris, tres solidos et quatuor denarios: ceteris non presbyteris viginti denarios." Hist. Eccles. Anglic., p. 606, edit. 1622, fol.]

[Footnote 290: The reader is here introduced to his old acquaintance, who appeared in the title-page to my first "Bibliomania:"—



I am the firste fole of all the hole navy To kepe the pompe, the helme, and eke the sayle: For this is my mynde, this one pleasoure have I— Of bokes to haue great plenty and aparayle. I take no wysdome by them: nor yet avayle Nor them perceyve nat: And then I them despyse. Thus am I a foole, and all that serue that guyse.

Shyp of Folys, &c., Pynson's edit., 1509, fol.]

We have now reached the threshhold of the reign of HENRY VIII.—and of the era of THE REFORMATION. An era in every respect most important, but, in proportion to its importance, equally difficult to describe—as it operates upon the history of the Bibliomania. Now blazed forth, but blazed for a short period, the exquisite talents of Wyatt, Surrey, Vaux, Fischer, More, and, when he made his abode with us, the incomparable Erasmus. But these in their turn.

PHIL. You omit Wolsey. Surely he knew something about books?

LYSAND. I am at present only making the sketch of my grand picture. Wolsey, I assure you, shall stand in the foreground. Nor shall the immortal Leland be treated in a less distinguished manner. Give me only "ample room and verge enough," and a little time to collect my powers, and then—

LIS. "Yes, and then"—you will infect us from top to toe with the BOOK-DISEASE!

PHIL. In truth I already begin to feel the consequence of the innumerable miasma of it, which are floating in the atmosphere of this library. I move that we adjourn to a purer air.

LYSAND. I second the motion: for, having reached the commencement of Henry's reign, it will be difficult to stop at any period in it previous to that of the Reformation.

LIS. Agreed. Thanks to the bacchanalian bounty of Lorenzo, we are sufficiently enlivened to enter yet further, and more enthusiastically, into this congenial discourse. Dame nature and good sense equally admonish us now to depart. Let us, therefore, close the apertures of these gorgeous decanters:—

"Claudite jam rivos, pueri: sat prata biberunt!"



PART V.

The Drawing Room.

HISTORY OF THE BIBLIOMANIA, OR ACCOUNT OF BOOK COLLECTORS, CONCLUDED.

Some in Learning's garb With formal hand, and sable-cinctur'd gown, And rags of mouldy volumes.

AKENSIDE; Pleasures of Imagination, b. iii., v. 96.



The Drawing Room.

HISTORY OF THE BIBLIOMANIA, OR ACCOUNT OF BOOK-COLLECTORS, CONTINUED.

Volatile as the reader may comceive [Transcriber's Note: conceive] the character of Lisardo to be, there were traits in it of marked goodness and merit. His enthusiasm so frequently made him violate the rules of severe politeness; and the quickness with which he flew from one subject to another, might have offended a narrator of the gravity, without the urbanity, of Lysander; had not the frankness with which he confessed his faults, and the warmth with which he always advocated the cause of literature, rendered him amiable in the eyes of those who thoroughly knew him. The friends, whose company he was now enjoying, were fully competent to appreciate his worth. They perceived that Lisardo's mind had been rather brilliantly cultivated; and that, as his heart had always beaten at the call of virtue, so, in a due course of years, his judgment would become matured, and his opinions more decidedly fixed. He had been left, very early in life, without a father, and bred up in the expectation of a large fortune; while the excessive fondness of his mother had endeavoured to supply the want of paternal direction, and had encouraged her child to sigh for every thing short of impossibility for his gratification.

In consequence, Lisardo was placed at College upon the most respectable footing. He wore the velvet cap, and enjoyed the rustling of the tassels upon his silk gown, as he paraded the High street of Oxford. But although he could translate Tacitus and Theocritus with creditable facility, he thought it more advantageous to gratify the cravings of his body than of his mind. He rode high-mettled horses; he shot with a gun which would have delighted an Indian prince; he drank freely out of cut-glasses, which were manufactured according to his own particular taste; and wines of all colours and qualities sparkled upon his table; he would occasionally stroll into the Bodleian Library and Picture Gallery, in order to know whether any acquisitions had been recently made to them; and attended the Concerts when any performer came down from London. Yet, in the midst of all his gaiety, Lisardo passed more sombrous than joyous hours: for when he looked into a book, he would sometimes meet with an electrical sentence from Cicero, Seneca, or Johnson, from which he properly inferred that life was uncertain, and that time was given us to prepare for eternity.

He grew dissatisfied and melancholy. He scrambled through his terms; took his degree; celebrated his anniversary of twenty-one, by drenching his native village in ale which had been brewed at his birth; added two wings to his father's house; launched out into coin and picture collecting; bought fine books with fine bindings; then sold all his coins and pictures; and, at the age of twenty-five, began to read, and think, and act for himself.

At this crisis, he became acquainted with the circle which has already been introduced to the reader's attention; and to which circle the same reader may think it high time now to return.

Upon breaking up for THE DRAWING ROOM, it was amusing to behold the vivacity of Lisardo; who, leaping about Lysander, and expressing his high gratification at the discourse he had already heard, and his pleasure at what he hoped yet to hear, reminded us of what Boswell has said of Garrick, who used to flutter about Dr. Johnson, and try to soften his severity by a thousand winning gestures.

The doors were opened; and we walked into Lorenzo's Drawing Room. The reader is not to figure to himself a hundred fantastical and fugitive pieces of furniture, purchased at Mr. Oakley's, and set off with curtains, carpet, and looking-glasses—at a price which would have maintained a country town of seven hundred poor with bread and soup during the hardest winter—the reader will not suppose that a man of Lorenzo's taste, who called books his best wealth, would devote two thousand pounds to such idle trappings; which in the course of three years, at farthest, would lose their comfort by losing their fashion. But he will suppose that elegance and propriety were equally consulted by our host.

Accordingly, a satin-wood book-case of 14 feet in width and 11 in height, ornamented at the top with a few chaste Etruscan vases—a light blue carpet, upon which were depicted bunches of grey roses, shadowed in brown—fawn-coloured curtains, relieved with yellow silk and black velvet borders—alabaster lamps shedding their soft light upon small marble busts—and sofas and chairs corresponding with the curtains—(and upon which a visitor might sit without torturing the nerves of the owner of them) these, along with some genuine pictures of Wouvermans, Berghem, and Rysdael, and a few other (subordinate) ornaments, formed the furniture of Lorenzo's Drawing Room. As it was en suite with the library, which was fitted up in a grave style or character, the contrast was sufficiently pleasing.

Lisardo ran immediately to the book-case. He first eyed, with a greedy velocity, the backs of the folios and quartos; then the octavos; and, mounting an ingeniously-contrived mahogany rostrum, which moved with the utmost facility, he did not fail to pay due attention to the duodecimos; some of which were carefully preserved in Russia or morocco backs, with water-tabby silk linings, and other appropriate embellishments. In the midst of his book-reverie, he heard, on a sudden, the thrilling notes of a harp—which proceeded from the further end of the library!—it being Lorenzo's custom, upon these occasions, to request an old Welch servant to bring his instrument into the library, and renew, if he could, the strains of "other times." Meanwhile the curtains were "let fall;" the sofa wheeled round;

—and the cups That cheer, but not inebriate,

with "the bubbling and loud hissing urn," "welcomed the evening in." Lorenzo brought from his library a volume of Piranesi, and another of engravings from the heads of Vandyke. Lisardo, in looking at them, beat time with his head and foot; and Philemon and Lysander acknowledged that Dr. Johnson himself could never have so much enjoyed the beverage which was now before them.

If it should here be asked, by the critical reader, why our society is not described as being more congenial, by the presence of those "whom man was born to please," the answer is at once simple and true—Lorenzo was a bachelor; and his sisters, knowing how long and desperate would be our discussion upon the black letter and white letter, had retreated, in the morning, to spend the day with Lisardo's mother—whither —— —— had been invited to join them.

The harper had now ceased. The tea-things were moved away; when we narrowed our circle, and, two of us upon the sofa, and three upon chairs, entreated Lysander to resume his narrative; who, after "clearing his pipes (like Sir Roger de Coverley) with a loud hem or two," thus proceeded.

"I think we left off," said Lysander, "with seating HENRY THE EIGHTH upon the throne of England. It will be as well, therefore, to say something of this monarch's pretensions to scholarship and love of books. Although I will not rake together every species of abuse which has been vented against him by one Anthony Gilbie,[291] yet Henry must be severely censured, in the estimation of the most candid inquirer, for that gross indifference which he evinced to the real interests of literature, in calmly suffering the libraries of convents and monasteries to be pillaged by the crafty and rapacious. He was bibliomaniac enough to have a few copies of his own work, in defence of the Roman Catholic exposition of the Sacrament, struck off UPON VELLUM:[292] but when he quarrelled with the Roman pontiff about his divorce from Queen Catharine, in order to marry Anne Boleyn,[293] he sounded the tocsin for the eventful destruction of all monastic libraries: and although he had sent Leland, under an express commission, to make a due examination of them, as well as a statistical survey of the realm, yet, being frustrated in the forementioned darling object, he cared for nothing about books, whether upon vellum or large paper. But had we not better speak of the book ravages, during the reformation, in their proper place?"

[Footnote 291: "In the time (saith he) of King HENRIE THE EIGHT, when by Tindall, Frith, Bilney, and other his faithful seruantes, God called England to dresse his vineyarde, many promise ful faire, whome I coulde name, but what fruite followed? Nothing but bitter grapes, yea, bryers and brambles, the wormewood of auarice, the gall of crueltie, the poison of filthie fornication, flowing from head to fote, the contempt of God, and open defence of the cake idole, by open proclamation to be read in the churches in steede of God's Scriptures. Thus was there no reformation, but a deformation, in the time of the tyrant and lecherouse monster. The bore I graunt was busie, wrooting and digging in the earth, and all his pigges that followed him, but they sought onely for the pleasant fruites, that they winded with their long snoutes; and for their own bellies sake, they wrooted up many weeds; but they turned the grounde so, mingling goode and badde togeather, sweet and sower, medecine and poyson, they made, I saye, suche confusion of religion and lawes, that no good thinge could growe, but by great miracle, under suche gardeners. And no maruaile, if it be rightlye considered. For this bore raged against God, against the Divell, against Christe, and against Antichrist, as the fome that he cast oute against Luther, the racing out of the name of the pope, and yet allowing his lawes, and his murder of many Christian souldiars, and of many Papists, doe declare and evidentlie testifie unto us; especially the burning of Barnes, Jerome, and Garrette, their faithfull preachers of the truthe, and hanging the same daye for the maintenaunce of the pope, Poel, Abel, and Fetherstone, dothe clearlie painte his beastlines, that he cared for no religion. This monsterous bore for all this must needes be called the head of the church in paine of treason, displacing Christ, our onely head, who ought alone to haue this title." Admonition to England and Scotland, &c., Geneva, 1558, p. 69. Quoted by Stapleton in his Counter Blaste to Horne's Vayne Blaste, Lovan., 1567, 4to., fol. 23. Gilbie was a Protestant; upon which Stapleton who was a rigid Roman Catholic, shrewdly remarks in the margin: "See how religiously the Protestantes speak of their princes!"]

[Footnote 292: Mr. Edwards informs me that he has had a copy of the "Assertio Septem Sacramentorum aduersus Martin Lutherum," &c. (printed by Pynson in 4to., both with and without date—1521), UPON VELLUM. The presentation copy to Henry, and perhaps another to Wolsey, might have been of this nature. I should have preferred a similar copy of the small book, printed a few years afterwards, in 12mo., of Henry's Letters in answer to Luther's reply to the foregoing work. This is not the place to talk further of these curious pieces. I have seen some of Pynson's books printed upon vellum; which are not remarkable for their beauty.]

[Footnote 293: Those readers who are not in possession of Hearne's rare edition of Robert de Avesbury, 1720, 8vo., and who cannot, in consequence, read the passionate letters of Henry VIII. to his beloved Boleyn, which form a leading feature in the Appendix to the same, will find a few extracts from them in the British Bibliographer; vol. ii., p. 78. Some of the monarch's signatures, of which Hearne has given fac-similes, are as follow:



When one thinks of the then imagined happiness of the fair object of these epistles—and reads the splendid account of her coronation dinner, by Stow—contrasting it with the melancholy circumstances which attended her death—one is at loss to think, or to speak, with sufficient force, of the fickleness of all sublunary grandeur! The reader may, perhaps, wish for this, "coronation dinner?" It is, in part, strictly as follows: "While the queen was in her chamber, every lord and other that ought to do service at the coronation, did prepare them, according to their duty: as the Duke of Suffolk, High-Steward of England, which was richly apparelled—his doublet and jacket set with orient pearl, his gown crimson velvet embroidered, his courser trapped with a close trapper, head and all, to the ground, of crimson velvet, set full of letters of gold, of goldsmith's work; having a long white rod in his hand. On his left-hand rode the Lord William, deputy for his brother, as Earl Marshall, with ye marshal's rod, whose gown was crimson velvet, and his horse's trapper purple velvet cut on white satin, embroidered with white lions. The Earl of Oxford was High Chamberlain; the Earl of Essex, carver; the Earl of Sussex, sewer; the Earl of Arundel, chief butler; on whom 12 citizens of London did give their attendance at the cupboard; the Earl of Derby, cup-bearer; the Viscount Lisle, panter; the Lord Burgeiny, chief larder; the Lord Broy, almoner for him and his copartners; and the Mayor of Oxford kept the buttery-bar: and Thomas Wyatt was chosen ewerer for Sir Henry Wyatt, his father." "When all things were ready and ordered, THE QUEEN, under her canopy, came into the hall, and washed; and sat down in the middest of the table, under her cloth of estate. On the right side of her chair stood the Countess of Oxford, widow: and on her left hand stood the Countess of Worcester, all the dinner season; which, divers times in the dinner time, did hold a fine cloth before the Queen's face, when she list to spit, or do otherwise at her pleasure. And at the table's end sate the Archbishop of Canterbury, on the right hand of the Queen; and in the midst, between the Archbishop and the Countess of Oxford, stood the Earl of Oxford, with a white staff, all dinner time; and at the Queen's feet, under the table, sate two gentlewomen all dinner time. When all these things were thus ordered, came in the Duke of Suffolk and the Lord William Howard on horseback, and the Serjeants of arms before them, and after them the sewer; and then the knights of the Bath, bringing in the first course, which was eight and twenty dishes, besides subtleties, and ships made of wax, marvellous gorgeous to behold: all which time of service, the trumpets standing in the window, at the nether end of the hall, played," &c. Chronicles; p. 566: edit. 1615, fol.]

LORENZ. As you please. Perhaps you will go on with the mention of some distinguished patrons 'till you arrive at that period?

LYSAND. Yes; we may now as well notice the efforts of that extraordinary bibliomaniacal triumvirate, Colet, More, and Erasmus.

PHIL. Pray treat copiously of them. They are my great favourites. But can you properly place Erasmus in the list?

LYSAND. You forget that he made a long abode here, and was Greek professor at Cambridge. To begin, then, with the former. COLET, as you well know, was Dean of St. Paul's; and founder of the public school which goes by the latter name. He had an ardent and general love of literature;[294] but his attention to the improvement of youth, in superintending appropriate publications, for their use, was unremitting. Few men did so much and so well, at this period: for while he was framing the statutes by which his little community was to be governed, he did not fail to keep the presses of Wynkyn De Worde and Pynson pretty constantly at work, by publishing the grammatical treatises of Grocyn, Linacre, Stanbridge, Lilye, Holte, Whittington, and others—for the benefit, as well of the public, as of his own particular circle. I take it, his library must have been both choice and copious; for books now began to be multiplied in an immense ratio, and scholars and men of rank thought a Study, or Library, of some importance to their mansions. What would we not give for an authenticated representation of Dean Colet in his library,[295] surrounded with books? You, Lisardo, would be in ecstacies with such a thing!

[Footnote 294: How anxiously does COLET seem to have watched the progress, and pushed the sale, of his friend Erasmus's first edition of the Greek Testament! "Quod scribis de Novo Testamento intelligo. Et libri novae editionis tuae hic avide emuntur et passim leguntur!" The entire epistle (which may be seen in Dr. Knight's dry Life of Colet, p. 315) is devoted to an account of Erasmus's publications. "I am really astonished, my dear Erasmus (does he exclaim), at the fruitfulness of your talents; that, without any fixed residence, and with a precarious and limited income, you contrive to publish so many and such excellent works." Adverting to the distracted state of Germany at this period, and to the wish of his friend to live secluded and unmolested, he observes—"As to the tranquil retirement which you sigh for, be assured that you have my sincere wishes for its rendering you as happy and composed as you can wish it. Your age and erudition entitle you to such a retreat. I fondly hope, indeed, that you will choose this country for it, and come and live amongst us, whose disposition you know, and whose friendship you have proved." There is hardly a more curious picture of the custom of the times relating to the education of boys, than the Dean's own Statutes for the regulation of St. Paul's School, which he had founded. These shew, too, the popular books then read by the learned. "The children shall come unto the school in the morning at seven of the clock, both winter and summer, and tarry there until eleven; and return again at one of the clock, and depart at five, &c. In the school, no time in the year, they shall use tallow candle, in no wise, but only wax candle, at the costs of their friends. Also I will they bring no meat nor drink, nor bottle, nor use in the school no breakfasts, nor drinkings, in the time of learning, in no wise, &c. I will they use no cockfighting, nor riding about of victory, nor disputing at Saint Bartholomew, which is but foolish babbling and loss of time." The master is then restricted, under the penalty of 40 shillings, from granting the boys a holiday, or "remedy" (play-day), as it is here called, "except the king, an archbishop, or a bishop, present in his own person in the school, desire it." The studies for the lads were "Erasmus's Copia et Institutum Christiani Hominii (composed at the Dean's request), Lactantius, Prudentius, Juvencus, Proba and Sedulius, and Baptista Mantuanus, and such other as shall be thought convenient and most to purpose unto the true Latin speech; all barbary, all corruption, all Latin adulterate, which ignorant blind fools brought into this world, and with the same hath distained and poisoned the old Latin speech, and the veray Roman tongue, which in the time of Tully, and Sallust, and Virgil, and Terence, was used—I say, that filthiness, and all such abusion, which the later blind world brought in, which more rather may be called BLOTERATURE than LITERATURE, I utterly banish and exclude out of THIS SCHOOL." Knight's Life of Colet, 362, 4. The sagacious reader will naturally enough conclude that boys, thus educated, would, afterwards, of necessity, fall victims to the ravages of the BIBLIOMANIA!]

[Footnote 295: I wish it were in my power to come forward with any stronger degree of probability than the exhibition of the subjoined cut, of what might have been the interior of Dean Colet's Study. This print is taken from an old work, printed in the early part of the sixteenth century, and republished in a book of Alciatus's emblems, translated from the Latin into Italian, A.D. 1549, 8vo. There is an air of truth about it; but the frame work is entirely modern, and perhaps not in the purest taste. It may turn out that this interior view of a private library is somewhat too perfect and finished for the times of Colet, in this country; especially if we may judge from the rules to be observed in completing a public one, just about the period of Colet's death: "Md. couenawntyd and agreid wyth Comell Clerke, for the making off the dextis in the library, (of Christ Church College, Oxford) to the summe off xvi, after the maner and forme as they be in Magdalyn college, except the popie heedes off the seites, this to be workmanly wrought and clenly, and he to have all manner off stooff foond hym, and to have for the makyng off one dexte xs. the sum off the hole viii. li. Item: borowd att Magdaleyn college one c. off v. d nayle, a c. off vi. d nayle, dim. c. x. d. nayle."—Antiquities of Glastonbury; edit. Hearne, p. 307.

]

LIS. Pray don't make such tantalizing appeals to me! Proceed, proceed.

LYSAND. Of this amiable and illustrious character I will only further observe that he possessed solid, good sense—unaffected and unshaken piety—a love towards the whole human race—and that he dignified his attachment to learning by the conscientious discharge of his duty towards God and man. He sleeps in peace beneath a monument, which has been consecrated by the tears of all who were related to him, and by the prayers of those who have been benefitted by his philanthropy.