Thus briefly and guardedly have I thrown out a few suggestions, which may enable us to avoid, or mitigate the severity of, the disease called The Bibliomania. Happy indeed shall I deem myself, if, in the description of its symptoms, and in the recommendation of the means of cure, I may have snatched any one from a premature grave, or lightened the load of years that are yet to cone!
You, my dear Sir, who, in your observations upon society, as well as in your knowledge of ancient times, must have met with numerous instances of the miseries which "flesh is heir to," may be disposed perhaps to confess that, of all species of afflictions, the present one under consideration has the least moral turpitude attached to it. True, it may be so: for, in the examples which have been adduced, there will be found neither Suicides, nor Gamesters, nor Profligates. No woman's heart has been broken from midnight debaucheries: no marriage vow has been violated: no child has been compelled to pine in poverty or neglect: no patrimony has been wasted, and no ancestor's fame tarnished! If men have erred under the influence of this disease, their aberrations have been marked with an excess arising from intellectual fevour, and not from a desire of baser gratifications.
If, therefore, in the wide survey which a philosopher may take of the "Miseries of Human life"[74] the prevalence of this disorder may appear to be less mischievous than that of others, and, if some of the most amiable and learned of mortals seemed to have been both unwilling, as well as unable, to avoid its contagion, you will probably feel the less alarmed if symptoms of it should appear within the sequestered abode of Hodnet![75] Recollecting that even in remoter situations its influence has been felt—and that neither the pure atmosphere of Hafod nor of Sledmere[76] has completely subdued its power—you will be disposed to exclaim with violence, at the intrusion of Bibliomaniacs—
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What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide! By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.[77] |
[74] In the ingenious and witty work so entitled, I do not recollect whether the disappointment arising from a cropt or a dirty copy has been classed among "The Miseries of Human Life."
[75] Hodnet Hall, Shropshire. The country residence of Mr. Heber.
[76] Hafod, South Wales, the seat of Thos. Johnes, Esq., M.P., the translator of the Chronicles of Froissart and Monstrelet, and of the Travels of De Broquiere and Joinville. The conflagration of part of his mansion and library, two years ago, which excited such a general sympathy, would have damped any ardour of collection but that of Mr. Johnes—his Library has arisen, Phœnix-like, from the flames!
Sledmere, in Yorkshire, the seat of Sir Mark Masterman Sykes, Bart., M.P. The library of this amiable and tasteful Baronet reflects distinguished credit upon him. It is at once copious and choice.
[77] Pope's "Prologue to the Satires," v. 7-10.
Upon the whole, therefore, attending closely to the symptoms of this disorder as they have been described, and practising such means of cure as have been recommended, we may rationally hope that its virulence may abate, and the number of its victims annually diminish. But if the more discerning part of the community anticipate a different result, and the preceding observations appear to have presented but a narrow and partial view of the mischiefs of the Bibliomania, my only consolation is that to advance something upon the subject is better than to preserve a sullen and invincible silence. Let it be the task of more experienced bibliographers to correct and amplify the foregoing outline!