As with Dr. John North, book-hunting was the consuming passion of the life of a very different man—Richard Smyth or Smith (of whom there is a very fine and rare engraving by W. Sherwin), one of the Secondaries or Under-Sheriffs from 1644 to 1655. Having sufficient wealth, he resigned his municipal appointment, which was worth £700 a year, in order to devote himself entirely to book-hunting. Anthony à Wood describes him as 'infinitely curious and inquisitive after books,' and states that 'he was constantly known every day to walk his rounds amongst the booksellers' shops (especially in Little Britain).' Richard Chiswell, the bookseller who drew up a catalogue of Smith's books, which subsequently came into his possession en bloc, tells us that his skill and experience enabled him 'to make choice of such books that were not obvious to every man's eye. . . . He lived in times which ministered peculiar opportunities of meeting with books that were not every day brought into public light, and few eminent libraries were bought where he had not the liberty to pick and choose. Hence arose, as that vast number of his books, so the choiceness and rarity of the greatest part of them, and that of all kinds, and in all sorts of learning.' This collection was sold by auction in May, 1682, the catalogue of it occupying 404 closely-printed pages in large quarto. There were fourteen Caxtons, 'the aggregate produce' of which was £3 14s. 7d.; the 'Godfrey of Bulloigne' selling for 18s., 'being K. Edwarde the IVth's owne booke,' and the 'Booke of Good Manners,' for 2s.; the highest price in the entire sale being given for Holinshed's 'Chronicle,' 'with the addition of many sheets that were castrated, being . . . not allowed to be printed,' £7. Smith left an interesting and valuable obituary list of certain of his bibliopolic friends (which is reprinted in Willis' Current Notes, February, 1853), one of whom, according to him, was 'buried at St. Bartholomew's, without wine or wafers, only gloves and rosemary.'
Dr. Francis Bernard, chief physician to James II., was an indefatigable book-hunter; being 'a person who collected his books, not for ostentation or ornament, he seemed no more solicitous about their dress than his own, and, therefore, you'll find that a gilt back or a large margin was very seldom an inducement for him to buy. 'Twas sufficient for him that he had the book.' His library was sold in 1698, and realized the then enormous sum of £2,000. John Bridges, of Lincoln's Inn, the historian of Northamptonshire, was a collector who read as well as bought books; his collection was sold at auction in 1726, when 4,313 lots realized £4,001. Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, was a collector with comprehensive tastes and almost unlimited means. His collection is now in the British Museum, and is computed to have numbered about 26,000 volumes, on the binding of only a portion of which he is said to have expended £18,000, besides a mass of 350,000 pamphlets. Thomas Baker (1625-1690) bequeathed a portion of his library to St. John's College, Cambridge, notwithstanding the fact that he was ejected therefrom. He was an unceasing collector, but his finances were scanty, and, worst of all, he had to contend with collectors of greater wealth, or 'purse-ability' as Bodley calls it. Writing to Humfrey Wanley, he says: 'I begin to complain of the men of quality who lay out so much for books, and give such prices that there is nothing to be had for poor scholars, whereof I have found the effects. When I bid a fair price for an old book, I am answered, the "quality" will give twice as much, and so I have done. I have had much ado to pick up a few old books at tolerable prices, and despair of any more.' About 2,000 of his books went to St. John's College, and the others were sold by auction, many bearing the inscription 'Thomas Baker, socius ejectus,' etc. The library of another collector who, like Baker, had more of the kicks than of the ha'pence of this life, Thomas Hearne (1678-1735), may be mentioned briefly in this paragraph, for both were men of great learning. Hearne's collection was sold in February, 1736, by Osborne the bookseller, 'the lowest price being marked in each book.' On the title-page of the catalogue, and beneath a poor portrait of Hearne, is the well-known couplet:
'Quoth Time to Thomas Hearne,
"Whatever I forget, you learn."'
Humphrey Dyson is another book-collector of this period, and is described by Hearne as 'a very curious man in collecting books.' The Wesleys were book-lovers and readers, but have perhaps but little claim to rank as collectors pur sang. However, it is interesting to point out that Lilly's catalogue for 1863 included a copy of Purcell's 'Orpheus Britannicus,' 1706, with an inscription on the fly-leaf: 'C. Wesley, junior. The valuable gift of his much-honor'd Father.'
The Restoration poets, like those of the Elizabethan period, had a sufficiently hard fight to keep themselves in food; books were luxuries which they could only venture to enjoy at long and uncertain intervals. Dryden and Congreve, however, appear to have been addicted to the pleasant pastime.
An exceedingly interesting copy of Spenser's 'Works,' folio, 1679, was once in the possession of Mr. F. S. Ellis. On the fly-leaf occurred this note: 'The corrections made in this book are of Mr. Dryden's own handwriting. J. Tonson.' The volume occurred in an auction, where its value was not detected. The 'corrections,' Mr. Ellis states, extend through the whole of the volume, and bear witness to the care and diligence with which Dryden had studied Spenser's poems. Several of the notes are in explanation of the text, but for the most part are careful and curious corrections of the text and press. The pedigree of this volume is well established by its having in the cover the bookplate of Thomas Barrett, of Lee, celebrated by Dibdin as a 'bibliomaniacal and tasteful gentleman.' Though Barrett died in 1757, his library was not dispersed till a few years since. Izaak Walton was a collector, and took the wise precaution of writing his autograph in each volume, as the very interesting score of examples now at Salisbury prove. His friend, Charles Cotton, of cheerful memory, was much more of a book-collector, although from the 'Angler' it would seem that his whole library was contained in his hall window. Like Walton, Cotton wrote his autograph in most of his books, which occur in the auction-room at irregular intervals. The extent or variety of the Cotton correction may be gathered from the following 'epigram' which Sir Aston Cokaine wrote (1658) 'To my Cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton the Younger':
'D'Avila, Bentivoglio, Guicciardine,