"Have a care," said he, on my resuming my seat—"have a care that you do not treat such a friend ill, or convert him into a foe. For myself, my course is well nigh run. My children have long taken their leave of me, to go to the common parent who created, and to the Saviour who has vouchsafed to redeem, us all; and, though the usual order of nature has been here inverted, I bow to the fate which Heaven has allotted me with the unqualified resignation of a Christian. My wife has also recently left me, for a better place; and I confess that I begin to grow desolate, and anxious to take my departure to join my family. In my solitude, dear Philemon, I have found these (pointing to his books) to be what Cicero, and Seneca, and our own countryman De Bury,[170] have so eloquently and truly described them to be—our friends, our instructors, and our comforts. Without any affectation of hard reading, great learning, or wonderful diligence, I think I may venture to say that I have read more valuable books than it falls to the lot of the generality of book-collectors to read; and I would fain believe that I have profited by my studies. Although not of the profession of the church, you know that I have always cherished a fondness for sacred literature; and there is hardly a good edition of the Greek Testament, or a commentator of repute upon the Bible, foreign or domestic, but what you will find some reference to the same in my interleaved copy of Bishop Wilson's edition of the Holy Scriptures. A great number of these commentators themselves are in my library, as well as every authoritative edition of the Greek Testament, from the Complutensian to Griesbach's. Yet do not suppose that my theological books are equal in measure to one fourth part of those in the Imperial library at Paris.[171] My object has always been instruction and improvement; and when these could be obtained from any writer, whether Roman Catholic or Protestant, Arminian or Calvinistic, I have not failed to thank him, and to respect him, too, if he has declared his opinions with becoming diffidence and moderation. You know that nothing so sorely grieves me as dogmatical arrogance, in a being who will always be frail and capricious, let him think and act as he please. On a Sunday evening I usually devote a few hours to my theological studies—(if you will allow my sabbath-meditations to be so called) and, almost every summer evening in the week, saunter 'midst yon thickets and meadows by the river side, with Collins, or Thompson, or Cowper, in my hand. The beautiful sentiments and grand imagery of Walter Scott are left to my in-door avocations; because I love to read the curious books to which he refers in his notes, and have always admired, what I find few critics have noticed, how adroitly he has ingrafted fiction upon truth. As I thus perambulate, with my book generally open, the villagers treat me as Sir Roger De Coverley made his tenants treat the Spectator—by keeping at a respectful distance—but when I shut up my volume, and direct my steps homewards, I am always sure to find myself, before I reach my threshold, in company with at least half a dozen gossipping and well-meaning rustics. In other departments of reading, history and poetry are my delight. On a rainy or snowy day, when all looks sad and dismal without, my worthy friend and neighbour, Phormio, sometimes gives me a call—and we have a rare set-to at my old favourite volumes—the 'Lectiones Memorabiles et Reconditæ' of Wolfius[172]—a commonplace book of as many curious, extraordinary, true and false occurrences, as ever were introduced into two ponderous folios. The number of strange cuts in it used to amuse my dear children—whose parent, from the remembrance of the past, still finds a pleasing recreation in looking at them. So much, dear Philemon, for my desultory mode of studying: improve upon it—but at all events, love your books for the good which they may produce; provided you open them with 'singleness of heart—' that is, a sincerity of feeling.

[170] Every school-lad who has written a copy under a writing-master, or who has looked into the second book of the "Selectæ è Profanis Scriptoribus," &c., has probably been made acquainted with the sentiments of the above ancient heathen philosophers relating to Learning and Books; but may not have been informed of the conciliatory manner in which our countryman De Bury has invited us to approach the latter. "Hi sunt magistri (says he) qui nos instruunt sine vergis et ferula, sine verbis et colera, sine pane et pecunia. Si accedis, non dormiunt; si inquiris, non se abscondunt; non remurmurant, si oberres; cachinnos nesciunt, si ignores." These original and apt words are placed in the title-page to the first volume of Dr. Clarke's Bibliographical Dictionary.

[171] "Il y a 300 pieds cubes de livres de théologie,"—"qui tapissent les murs des deux premières salles de la Bibliothéque Impériale." Caillot: Roman Bibliographique, tom. i., 72, edit. 1809.

[172] There are few men, of any literary curiosity, who would not wish to know something of the work here noticed; and much more than appears to be known of its illustrious author; concerning whom we will first discourse a little: "Johannes Wolfius (says Melchoir Adam), the laborious compiler of the Lectionum Memorabilium et Reconditarum Centenarii xvi. (being a collection of curious pieces from more than 3000 authors—chiefly Protestant) was a civilian, a soldier, and a statesman. He was born A.D. 1537, at Vernac, in the duchy of Deux Ponts; of which town his father was chief magistrate. He was bred under Sturmius at Strasbourg, under Melancthon at Wittemberg, and under Cujas at Bruges. He travelled much and often; particularly into France and Burgundy, with the Dukes of Stettin, in 1467. He attended the Elector Palatine, who came with an army to the assistance of the French Hugonots in 1569; and, in 1571, he conducted the corpse of his master back to Germany by sea. After this, he was frequently employed in embassies from the electors Palatine to England and Poland. His last patrons were the Marquisses of Baden, who made him governor of Mündelsheim, and gave him several beneficial grants. In 1594, Wolfius bade adieu to business and courts, and retired to Hailbrun; where he completed his "Lectiones," which had been the great employment of his life. He died May 23, A.D. 1600—the same year in which the above volumes were published." Thus far, in part, our biographer, in his Vitæ Eruditorum cum Germanorum tum Exterorum: pt. iii., p. 156, edit. 1706. These particulars may be gleaned from Wolfius's preface; where he speaks of his literary and diplomatic labours with great interest and propriety. In this preface also is related a curious story of a young man of the name of Martin, whom Wolfius employed as an amanuensis to transcribe from his "three thousand authors"—and who was at first so zealously attached to the principles of the Romish Church that he declared "he wished for no heaven where Luther might be." The young man died a Protestant; quite reconciled to a premature end, and in perfect good will with Luther and his doctrine. As to Wolfius, it is impossible to read his preface, or to cast a glance upon his works—"magno et pene incredibili labore multisque vigiliis elaboratum"—(as Linsius has well said, in the opening of the admonition to the reader, prefixed to his index) without being delighted with his liberality of disposition, and astonished at the immensity of his labour. Each volume has upwards of 1000 pages closely printed upon an indifferent brown-tinted paper; which serves nevertheless to set off the several hundreds of well executed wood cuts which the work contains. Linsius's index, a thin folio, was published in the year 1608: this is absolutely necessary for the completion of a copy. As bibliographers have given but a scanty account of this uncommon work (mentioned, however, very properly by Mr. Nicol in his interesting preface to the catalogue of the Duke of Roxburgh's books; and of which I observe in the Bibl. Solgeriana, vol. i., no. 1759, that a second edition, printed in 1672, is held in comparatively little estimation), so biographers (if we except Melchior Adam, the great favourite of Bayle) have been equally silent respecting its author. Fabricius, and the Historical Dictionary published at Caen, do not mention him; and Moreri has but a meagre and superficial notice of him. Wolfius's Penus Artis Historicæ, of which the best edition is that of 1579, is well described in the tenth volume of Fournier's Methode pour étudier l'histoire, p. 12, edit. 1772. My respect for so extraordinary a bibliomaniac as Wolfius, who was groping amongst the books of the public libraries belonging to the several great cities which he visited, (in his diplomatic character—vide præf.) whilst his masters and private secretary were probably paying their devotions to Bacchus—induces me to treat the reader with the following impression of his portrait.

This cut is taken from a fac-simile drawing, made by me of the head of Wolfius as it appears at the back of the title-page to the preceding work. The original impression is but an indifferent one; but it presents in addition, the body of Wolfius as far as the waist; with his right hand clasping a book, and his left the handle of a sword. His ponderous chain has a medallion suspended at the end. This print, which evidently belongs to the English series, has escaped Granger. And yet I know not whether such intelligence should be imparted!—as the scissars may hence go to work to deprive many a copy of these "Lectiones," of their elaborately-ornamented title-pages. Forbid it, good sense!

"In a short time," continued the venerable Orlando, after a pause of fifteen seconds, "in a short time I must bid adieu to this scene; to my choice copies; beautiful bindings: and all the classical furniture which you behold around you. Yes!—as Reimannus[173] has well observed,—'there is no end to accumulating books, whilst the boundaries of human existence are limited, indeed!' But I have made every necessary, and, I hope, appropriate, regulation; the greater part of my library is bequeathed to one of the colleges in the University of Oxford; with an injunction to put an inscription over the collection very different from what the famous Ranzau[174] directed to be inscribed over his own.—About three hundred volumes you will find bequeathed to you, dear Philemon—accompanied with a few remarks not very different from what Lotichius[175] indited, with his dying breath, in his book-legacy to the learned Sambucus. I will, at present, say no more. Come and see me whenever you have an opportunity. I exact nothing extraordinary of you; and shall therefore expect nothing beyond what one man of sense and of virtue, in our relative situations, would pay to the other."

[173] "Vita brevis est, et series librorum longa." He adds: "Æs magnum tempus, quo id dispungere conatus est, parvum." Bibl. Acroamat., p. 51, sign. d† 2.

[174] "Henry de Ranzau—avoit dressé une excellente bibliothéque au chateau de Bredemberg, dans laquelle estoient conservez plusieurs manuscrits Grecs et Latins, et autres raretez, &c.—Ce sçavant personnage a fait un decret pour sa bibliothéque, qui merite d'estre icy inseré, pour faire voir a la posterité l'affection qu'il auoit pour sa conservation."

... Libros partem ne aliquam abstulerit,
Extraxerit, clepserit, rapserit,
Concerpserit, coruperit,
Dolo malo:
Illico maledictus,
Perpetuo execrabilis,
Semper detestabilis
Esto maneto.
Jacob: Traicté des Bibliothéques, pp. 237, 240.