'THIS BOOK
BELONGS TO
. . . . . . . .
If thou art borrowed by a friend,
Right welcome shall he be
To read, to study, not to lend,
But to return to me.
Not that imparted knowledge doth
Diminish learning's store;
But Books, I find, if often lent,
Return to me no more.
Read slowly, Pause frequently,
Think seriously,
Keep cleanly, return duly,
With the corners of the leaves not turned down.'
Of about the same date is another little effusion, which clearly does not contemplate the purchaser being the possessor of a unique volume, or of one for any cause irreplaceable, if lost:—
'THIS BOOK BELONGS TO
. . . . . . . . . .
Neither blemish this book, nor the leaves double down,
Nor lend it to each idle friend in the town;
Return it when read, or, if lost, please supply
Another as good to the mind and the eye.'
In these last quoted examples are certainly many stipulations, but they are as nought when compared with what we find on the book-plate of the Cavalier Francesco Vargas Macciucca, who was in the habit of pasting on the fly-leaf of the book, opposite his book-plate, fifteen rules, written in Latin, to be observed by those who borrowed books from his library. If he enforced them, he can have been seldom troubled with a borrower!
On the face of them,—since most of them have a blank space left for the owner's name, etc.,—these poetic or prosaic threats against book-stealers and the ill-usage of books do not pretend to be the compositions of those that used them. Jones or Brown went to the nearest stationer or bookseller, and purchased his admonitions all ready composed. But even after the introduction of ready-made admonitions, we find the man of independent mind rebelling against saving his library from spoliation by anybody's words save his own. Such a person was Mr. Charles Clark, of Great Totham Hall, near Witham, in Essex, who can at least claim originality for his composition, which, if lengthy, has occasional gleams of humour. Here it is:—
'A PLEADER TO THE NEEDER WHEN
A READER
As all, my friend, through wily knaves, full often suffer wrongs,
Forget not, pray, when it you've read, to whom this book belongs.
Than one Charles Clark, of Totham Hall, none to 't a right hath better,
A wight, that same, more read than some in the lore of old black letter;
And as C. C. in Essex dwells—a shire at which all laugh—
His books must sure less fit seem drest, if they're not bound in calf!
Care take, my friend, this book you ne'er with grease or dirt besmear it;
While none but awkward puppies will continue to "dog's-ear" it!
And o'er my books, when book-"worms" "grub," I'd have them understand,
No marks the margin must de-face from any busy "hand"!
Marks, as re-marks, in books of Clark's, whene'er some critic spy leaves,
It always him so waspish makes though they're but on the fly-leaves!
Yes, if so they're used, he'd not de-fer to deal a fate most meet—
He'd have the soiler of his quires do penance in a sheet!
The Ettrick Hogg—ne'er deem'd a bore—his candid mind revealing,
Declares, to beg a copy now's a mere pre-text for stealing!
So, as some knave to grant the loan of this my book may wish me,
I thus my book-plate here display lest some such fry should dish me!
But hold!—though I again declare with-holding I'll not brook,
And "a sea of trouble" still shall take to bring book-worms to "book."
'C. C.'