Phil. Ninety-five to the minute! You are just now in a fit frame of mind to write a political pamphlet. Pray consider what will be the issue of this madness?
Lis. No more! Now for my catalogue; and let me attend to my marks. But our friend is not forgetful of his promise?
Phil. I dare say he will assist us in regulating the prices we ought to give—and more particularly in making us acquainted with the most notable book-collectors.
Upon my readily acquiescing in their demand, we leapt from the chaise (giving orders for it to attend by three o'clock) and hurried immediately up stairs into the auction room.
The clock had struck twelve, and in half an hour the sale was to begin. Not more than nine or ten gentlemen were strolling about the room: some examining the volumes which were to be sold, and making hieroglyphical marks thereupon, in their catalogues: some giving commissions to the clerk who entered their names, with the sums they intended staking, in a manner equally hieroglyphical. Others, again, seemed to be casting an eye of vacancy over the whole collection; or waiting till a book friend arrived with whom they might enter into a little chat. You observe, my friends, said I, softly, yonder active and keen-visaged gentleman? 'Tis Lepidus. Like Magliabechi, content with frugal fare and frugal clothing[186] and preferring the riches of a library to those of house-furniture, he is insatiable in his bibliomaniacal appetites. "Long experience has made him sage:" and it is not therefore without just reason that his opinions are courted, and considered as almost oracular. You will find that he will take his old station, commanding the right or left wing of the auctioneer; and that he will enliven, by the gaiety and shrewdness of his remarks, the circle that more immediately surrounds him. Some there are who will not bid 'till Lepidus bids; and who surrender all discretion and opinion of their own to his universal book-knowledge. The consequence is that Lepidus can, with difficulty, make purchases for his own library; and a thousand dexterous and happy manœuvres are of necessity obliged to be practised by him, whenever a rare or curious book turns up. How many fine collections has this sagacious bibliomaniac seen disposed of! Like Nestor, who preaches about the fine fellows he remembered in his youth, Lepidus (although barely yet in his grand climacteric!) will depicture, with moving eloquence, the numerous precious volumes of far-famed collectors, which he has seen, like Macbeth's witches,
"Come like shadows, so depart!"
[186] Tenni cultu, victuque contentus, quidquid ei pecuniæ superaret in omnigenæ eruditionis libros comparandos erogabat, selectissimamque voluminum multitudinem ea mente adquisivit, ut aliquando posset publicæ utilitati—dicari, Præf. Bibl. Magliab. a Fossio, p. x.
And when any particular class of books, now highly coveted, but formerly little esteemed, comes under the hammer, and produces a large sum,—ah then! 'tis pleasant to hear Lepidus exclaim—
O mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos!
Justly respectable as are his scholarship and good sense, he is not what you may call a fashionable collector; for old chronicles and romances are most rigidly discarded from his library. Talk to him of Hoffmen, Schoettgenius, Rosenmuller, and Michaelis, and he will listen courteously to your conversation; but when you expatiate, however learnedly and rapturously, upon Froissart and Prince Arthur, he will tell you that he has a heart of stone upon the subject; and that even a clean uncut copy of an original impression of each, by Verard or by Caxton, would not bring a single tear of sympathetic transport in his eyes.