The opening of the 18th century was also distinguished by the death of a bibliomaniac of the very first order and celebrity. Of one, who had, no doubt, frequently discoursed largely and eloquently with Luttrell, (of whom presently) upon the rarity and value of certain editions of old Ballad Poetry: and between whom presents of curious black-letter volumes were, in all probability, frequently passing. I allude to the famous Samuel Pepys;[364] Secretary to the Admiralty.

[364] "The Maitland Collection of Manuscripts was ever in the collector's (Sir Richard Maitland's) family."—"His grandson was raised to the dignity of Earl of Lauderdale." "The Duke of Lauderdale, a descendant of the collector's grandson, presented the Maitland Collection, along with other MSS., to Samuel Pepys, Esq. Secretary of the Admiralty to Charles II. and James II. Mr. Pepys was one of the earliest collectors of rare books, &c. in England; and the duke had no taste for such matters; so either from friendship, or some point of interest, he gave them to Mr. Pepys,"—who "dying 26 May, 1703, in his 71st year, ordered, by will, the Pepysian Library at Magdalen College, Cambridge, to be founded, in order to preserve his very valuable collection entire. It is undoubtedly the most curious in England, those of the British Museum excepted; and is kept in excellent order." Mr. Pinkerton's preface, p. vii., to Ancient Scottish Poems from the Maitland Collection, &c., 1786, 8vo., 2 vols. I wish it were in my power to add something concerning the parentage, birth, education, and pursuits of the extraordinary collector of this extraordinary collection; but no biographical work, which I have yet consulted, vouchsafes even to mention his name. His merits are cursorily noticed in the Quarterly Review, vol. iv., p. 326-7. Through the medium of a friend, I learn from Sir Lucas Pepys, Bart., that our illustrious bibliomaniac, his great uncle, was President of the Royal Society, and that his collection at Cambridge contains a Diary of his life, written with his own hand. But it is high time to speak of the black-letter gems contained in the said collection. That the Pepysian collection is at once choice and valuable cannot be disputed; but that access to the same is prompt and facile, is not quite so indisputable. There is a MS. catalogue of the books, by Pepys himself, with a small rough drawing of a view of the interior of the library. The books are kept in their original (I think walnut-wood) presses: and cannot be examined unless in the presence of a fellow.—Such is the nice order to be observed, according to the bequest, that every book must be replaced where it was taken from; and the loss of a single volume causes the collection to be confiscated, and transported to Benet-college library. Oh, that there were an act of parliament to regulate bequests of this kind!—that the doors to knowledge might, by a greater facility of entrance, be more frequently opened by students; and that the medium between unqualified confidence and unqualified suspicion might be marked out and followed. Are these things symptomatic of an iron or a brazen age! But the bibliomaniac is impatient for a glance at the 'forementioned black-letter treasures!—Alas, I have promised more than I can perform! Yet let him cast his eye upon the first volume of the recent edition of Evans' Collection of Old Ballads (see in limine, p. ix.) and look into the valuable notes of Mr. Todd's Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer,—in which latter, he will find no bad specimen of these Pepysian gems, in the exultation of my friend, the author, over another equally respected friend—in consequence of his having discovered, among these treasures, a strange, merry, and conceited work, entitled "Old Meg of Herefordshire for a Mayd-Marian; and Hereford Town for a Morris-daunce, &c.," 1609, 4to., p. 273. Ex uno Disce omnes. The left-handed critic, or anti-black-letter reader, will put a wicked construction upon the quotation of this motto in capital letters: let him: he will repent of his folly in due time.

Now it was a convincing proof to me, my dear friends, that the indulgence of a passion for books is perfectly compatible with any situation, however active and arduous. For while this illustrious bibliomaniac was sending forth his messengers to sweep every bookseller's shop from the Tweed to Penzance, for the discovery of old and almost unknown ballads—and while his name rung in the ears of rival collectors—he was sedulous, in his professional situation, to put the Navy of Old England upon the most respectable footing; and is called the Father of that system which, carried into effect by British hearts of oak, has made the thunder of our cannon to be heard and feared on the remotest shores. Nor is it a slight or common coincidence that a spirit of book-collecting, which stimulated the Secretary of the Admiralty at the opening of the 18th century, should, at the close of it, have operated with equal or greater force in a First Lord of the same glorious department of our administration. But we shall speak more fully of this latter character, and of his matchless collection, in a future stage of our discussion.

While we are looking round us at this period, we may as well slightly notice the foundation of the Blenheim Library. The Duke of Marlborough[365] was resolved that no naval commander, or person connected with the navy, should eclipse himself in the splendour of book-collecting: but it was to Prince Eugene that Marlborough was indebted for his taste in this particular; or rather the English commander was completely bitten with the bibliomaniacal disease in consequence of seeing Eugene secure rare and magnificent copies of works, when a city or town was taken: and the German Prince himself expatiates upon the treasures of his library, with a rapture with which none but the most thorough-bred bibliomaniacs can ever adequately sympathise.

[365] The Library at Blenheim is one of the grandest rooms in Europe. The serpentine sheet of water, which flows at some little distance, between high banks of luxuriant and moss-woven grass, and is seen from the interior, with an overhanging dark wood of oaks, is sufficient to awaken the finest feelings that ever animated the breast of a bibliomaniac. The books are select and curious, as well as numerous; and although they may be eclipsed, in both these particulars, by a few rival collections, yet the following specimen is no despicable proof of the ardour with which Marlborough, the founder of the Library, pushed forward his bibliomaniacal spirit. I am indebted to Mr. Edwards for this interesting list of the

ANCIENT CLASSICS PRINTED UPON VELLUM IN THE BLENHEIM LIBRARY.

Apoll. Rhodius 1496
Augustinus, de Civ. DeiSpiræ1470
A. Gellius, Romæ 1469
Aug. de Civ. DeiJenson1475
Biblia Moguntina 1462
Bonifacii Decretalia 1465
Ciceronis RhetoricaJens.1470
—— Epist. Fam.Spiræ1469
—— OfficiaMogunt1465
—— —— 1466
—— Tuscul. Ques.Jenson1472
Clementis Const.Mogunt1460
—— Fust. s.a.
Durandus 1459
Horatius Landini 1482
—— Epist. 1480
JustinianMogunt1468
LactantiusA Rot1471
LucianFlorent1496
PetrarcaSpira1470
PliniusJenson1472
QuintilianCampani1470
SallustiusSpira1470
V. Maximus, s.a.
VirgiliusSpira1470

The present Marquis of Blandford inherits, in no small degree, the book-collecting spirit of his illustrious ancestor. He is making collections in those departments of literature in which the Blenheim Library is comparatively deficient; and his success has already been such as to lead us to hope for as perfect a display of volumes printed by Caxton as there is of those executed by foreign printers. The Marquis's collection of Emblems is, I believe, nearly perfect: of these, there are a few elegantly printed catalogues for private distribution. Lysander, above, supposes that Marlborough caught the infection of the book-disease from Prince Eugene; and the supposition is, perhaps, not very wide of the truth. The library of this great German prince, which is yet entire, (having been secured from the pillage of Gallic Vandalism, when a certain emperor visited a certain city) is the proudest feature in the public library at Vienna. The books are in very fine old binding, and, generally of the largest dimensions. And, indeed, old England has not a little to boast of (at least, so bibliomaniacs must always think) that, from the recently published Memoirs of Eugene (1811, 8vo., p. 185), it would appear that the prince "bought his fine editions of books at London:"—he speaks also of his "excellent French, Latin, and Italian works, well bound"—as if he enjoyed the "arrangment" of them, as much as the contemplation of his "cascades, large water-spouts, and superb basins." Ibid. Whether Eugene himself was suddenly inflamed with the ardour of buying books, from some lucky spoils in the pillaging of towns—as Lysander supposes—is a point which may yet admit of fair controversy. For my own part, I suspect the German commander had been straying, in his early manhood, among the fine libraries in Italy, where he might have seen the following exquisite bijous—

In St. Mark's, at Venice.

Apuleius1469
Aulus Gellius1469PRINTED UPON VELLUM.
Petrarca1479