[Footnote 343: Look, gentle reader, at the entire ungarbled passage--amongst many similar ones which may be adduced--in vol. i., p. 116, of his "_Crudities_"--or Travels: edit.

1776, 8vo. Coryat's [Transcriber's Note: alternative spelling] talents, as a traveller, are briefly, but brilliantly, described in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. ii., p. 92.]

Let me here beseech you to pay due attention to the works of HENRY PEACHAM, when they come across you. The first edition of that elegantly written volume, "_The Compleat Gentleman_," was published I believe in the reign of James I., in the year 1622.

LOREN. I possess not only this, but every subsequent copy of it, and a fair number of copies of his other works. He and BRAITHWAIT were the "par nobile fratrum" of their day.

PHIL. I have often been struck with some curious passages in Peacham, relating to the Education of Youth[344] in our own country; as I find, from them, that the complaint of _severity of discipline_ still continued, notwithstanding the able work of Roger Ascham, which had recommended a mild and conciliatory mode of treatment.

[Footnote 344: The HISTORY of the EDUCATION OF YOUTH in this country might form an amusing little octavo volume. We have _Treatises_ and _Essays_ enough upon the subject; but a narrative of its first rude efforts, to its present, yet not perfected, form, would be interesting to every parent, and observer of human nature. My present researches only enable me to go back as far as Trevisa's time, towards the close of the 14th century; when I find, from the works of this Vicar of Berkeley, that "every friar that had _state in school_, such as they were then, had an HUGE LIBRARY." _Harl. MSS._, no. 1900. But what the particular system was, among youth, which thus so highly favoured the BIBLIOMANIA, I have not been able to ascertain. I suspect, however, that knowledge made but slow advances; or rather that its progress was almost inverted; for, at the end of the subsequent century, our worthy printer, Caxton, tells us that he found "but few who could write in their registers the occurrences of the day." _Polychronicon; prol. Typog.

Antiquit._, vol. i., 148. In the same printer's prologue to _Catho Magnus_ (_Id._, vol. i., 197) there is a melancholy complaint about the youth of London; who, although, when children, they were "fair, wise, and prettily bespoken--at the full ripening, they had neither kernel nor good corn found in them." This is not saying much for the academic or domestic treatment of young gentlemen, towards the close of the 15th century. At the opening of the ensuing century, a variety of elementary treatises, relating to the education of youth, were published chiefly under the auspices of Dean Colet, and composed by a host of learned grammarians, of whom honourable mention has been made at page 218, ante.

These publications are generally adorned with a rude wood-cut; which, if it be copied from truth, affords a sufficiently striking proof of the severity of the ancient discipline: for the master is usually seated in a large arm-chair, with a tremendous rod across his knees; and the scholars are prostrate before him, either on the ground upon bended knees, or sitting upon low benches. Nor was this rigid system relaxed in the middle of the same (xvith) century; when Roger Ascham composed his incomparable treatise, intitled the "_Schoolmaster_;" the object of which was to decry the same severity of discipline. This able writer taught his countrymen the value of making the road to knowledge smooth and inviting, by smiles and remunerations, rather than by stripes and other punishments. Indeed, such was the stern and Draco-like character which schoolmasters of this period conceived themselves authorized to assume that neither rank, nor situation, nor sex, were exempt from the exercise of their tyranny. Lady Jane Grey tells Ascham that her former teacher used to give her "pinches, and cuffs, and bobs," &c. The preface to the Schoolmaster informs us that two gentlemen, who dined with Ascham at Cecil's table, were of opinion that NICOLAS UDAL, then head master of Eaton School, "was the best schoolmaster of their time, and the _greatest beater_!" Bishop Latimer, in his fourth sermon (edit. 1562, fol. 15 to 18), has drawn such a picture of the Londoners of this period that the philosopher may imagine that youths, who sprung from such parents, required to be ruled with a rod of iron. But it has been the fashion of all writers, from the age of St. Austin downwards, to depreciate the excellences, and magnify the vices, of the times in which they lived. Ludovicus Vives, who was Latimer's contemporary, has attacked both schoolmasters and youths, in an ungracious style; saying of the former that "some taught Ovid's books of love to their scholars, and some make expositions and expounded the vices." He also calls upon the young women, in the language of St. Jerome, "to avoid, as a mischief or poison of chastity, young men with heads bushed and trimmed; and sweet smelling skins of outlandish mice." _Instruction of a Christian Woman_; edit. 1592, sign. D 3, rect. &c. I am not aware of any work of importance, relating to the education of youth, which appeared till the publication of the _Compleat Gentleman_ by HENRY PEACHAM: an author, who richly deserves all the handsome things above said of him in the text. His chapters "_Of the Duty of Masters_," and "_Of the Duty of Parents_," are valuable upon many accounts: inasmuch as they afford curious anecdotes of the system of academic and domestic education then pursued, and are accompanied with his own sagacious and candid reflections. Peacham was an _Aschamite_ in respect to lenity of discipline; as the following extracts, from the foregoing work, (edit. 1661) will unequivocally prove. Peacham first observes upon the different modes of education: "But we see on the contrary, out of the master's carterly judgment, like horses in a team, the boys are set to draw all alike, when some one or two prime and able wits in the school, [Greek: auto didaktoi] (which he culs out to admiration if strangers come, as a costardmonger his fairest pippins) like fleet hovnds go away with the game, when the rest need helping over a stile a mile behind: hence, being either quite discouraged in themselves, or taken away by their friends (who for the most part measure their learning by the form they set in), they take leave of their books while they live," &c. p. 23. "Some affect, and severer schools enforce, a precise and tedious strictness, in long keeping the schollers by the walls: as from before six in the morning, till twelve or past: so likewise in the afternoon. Which, beside the dulling of the wit and dejecting the spirit (for, "otii non minus quam negotii ratio extare debet") breeds in him, afterwards, a kind of hate and carelessness of study when he comes to be "sui juris," at his own liberty (as experience proves by many, who are sent from severe schools unto the universities): withall over-loading his memory, and taking off the edge of his invention, with over heavy tasks, in themes, verses," &c., p. 25. "Nor is it my meaning that I would all masters to be tyed to one method, no more than all the shires of England to come up to London by one highway: there may be many equally alike good. And since method, as one saith, is but [Greek: odopoietike], let every master, if he can, by pulling up stiles and hedges, make a more near and private way to himself; and in God's name say, with the divinest of poets,

_deserta per avia dulcis Raptat amor. Juvat ire iugis, qua nulla priorum_ CASTALIAM _molli divertitur orbita clivo._

(Georg. libi. iij.)

With sweet love rapt, I now by deserts pass, And over hills where never track of yore: Descending easily, yet remembered was, That led the way to CASTALIE before.

(Peacham.)

But instead of many good, they have infinite bad; and go stumbling from the right, as if they went blindfold for a wager. Hence cometh the shifting of the scholler from master to master; who, poor boy (like a hound among a company of ignorant hunters hollowing every deer they see), misseth the right, begetteth himself new labour, and at last, by one of skill and well read, beaten for his paines," pp. 29, 30.

Peacham next notices the extreme severity of discipline exercised in some schools. "I knew one, who in winter would ordinarily, in a cold morning, whip his boys over for no other purpose than to get himself a heat: another beats them for swearing, and all the while sweares himself with horrible oaths. He would forgive any fault saving that! I had, I remember, myself (neer St. Alban's in Hertfordshire, where I was born) a master, who, by no entreaty, would teach any scholler he had farther than his father had learned before him; as if he had only learned but to read English, the son, though he went with him seven years, should go no further: his reason was, they would then prove saucy rogues, and controle their fathers! Yet these are they that oftentimes have our hopefull gentry under their charge and tuition, to bring them up in science and civility!" p. 27.

This absurd system is well contrasted with the following account of the lenity observed in some of the schools on the continent: "In Germany the school is, and as the name imports, it ought to be, merely, LUDUS LITERARIUS, a very pastime of learning, where it is a rare thing to see a rod stirring: yet I heartily wish that our children of England were but half so ready in writing and speaking Latin, which boys of ten and twelve years old will do so roundly, and with so neat a phrase and style, that many of our masters would hardly mend them; having only for their punishment, shame; and for their reward, praise," p. 24. "Wherefore I cannot but commend the custome of their schools in the Low-countries, where for the avoyding of this tedious sitting still, and with irksome poring on the book all day long, after the scholler hath received his lecture, he leaveth the school for an houre, and walkes abroad with one or two of his fellows, either into the field or up among the trees upon the rampire, as in ANTWERP, BREDA, VTRECHT, &c., when they confer and recreate themselves till time calls them in to repeat, where perhaps they stay an hour; so abroad again, and thus at their pleasure the whole day," p.

26. Thus have we pursued the _History of the Education of Boys_ to a period quite modern enough for the most superficial antiquary to supply the connecting links down to the present times. Nor can we conclude this prolix note without observing upon two things which are remarkable enough: first, that in a country like our own--the distinguishing characteristics of whose inhabitants are gravity, reserve, and good sense--lads should conduct themselves with so much rudeness, flippancy, and tyranny towards each other--and secondly, that masters should, in too many instances, exercise a discipline suited rather to a government of despotism and terror than to a land of liberty and social comfort! But all human improvement, and human happiness, is progressive. Speramus meliora!]

LYSAND. But you must not believe every thing that is said in favour of _Continental_ lenity of discipline, shewn to youth, if the testimony of a modern newspaper may be credited!----

LIS. What your newspaper may hold forth I will not pretend to enter into.

LYSAND. Nay, here is the paragraph; which I cut out from "_The Observer_," and will now read it to you. "A German Magazine recently announced the death of a schoolmaster in Suabia, who, for 51 years, had superintended a large institution with old fashioned severity.

From an average, inferred by means of recorded observations, one of the ushers had calculated that, in the course of his exertions, he had given _911,500 canings, 121,000 floggings, 209,000 custodes, 136,000 tips with the ruler, 10,200 boxes on the ear, and 22,700 tasks by heart_. It was further calculated that he had made _700 boys stand on peas, 6000 kneel on a sharp edge of wood, 5000 wear the fool's cap, and 1,700 hold the rod_. How vast (exclaims the journalist) the quantity of human misery inflicted by a single perverse educator!"

Now, my friends, what have you to say against the _English_ system of education?

PHIL. This is only defending bad by worse.

LIS. Where are we digressing? What are become of our bibliomaniacal heroes?

LYSAND. You do right to call me to order. Let us turn from the birch, to the book, history.

Contemporaneous with Peacham, lived that very curious collector of ancient popular little pieces, as well as lover of "sacred secret soul soliloquies," the renowned _melancholy_ composer, ycleped ROBERT BURTON;[345] who, I do not scruple to number among the most marked bibliomaniacs of the age; notwithstanding his saucy railing against Frankfort book-fairs. We have abundance of testimony (exclusive of the fruits of his researches, which appear by his innumerable marginal references to authors of all ages and characters) that this original, amusing, and now popular, author was an arrant book-hunter; or, as old Anthony hath it, "a devourer of authors." Rouse, the Librarian of Bodleian, is said to have liberally assisted Burton in furnishing him with choice books for the prosecution of his extraordinary work.

[Footnote 345: I suppose Lysander to allude to a memorandum of Hearne, in his _Benedictus Abbas_, p. iv., respecting ROBERT BURTON being a collector of "ancient popular little pieces." From this authority we find that he gave "a great variety" of these pieces, with a multitude of books, of the best kind, to the "Bodleian Library."--One of these was that "opus incomparabile," the "_History of Tom Thumb_," and the other, the "_Pleasant and Merry History of the Mylner of Abingdon_." The expression "sacred secret soul soliloquies"

belongs to Braithwait: and is thus beautifully interwoven in the following harmonious couplets:

----No minute but affords some tears.

No walks but private solitary groves Shut from frequent, his contemplation loves; No treatise, nor discourse, so sweetly please As sacred-secret soule soliloquies.

_Arcadian Princesse_, lib. 4, p. 162.

And see, gentle reader, how the charms of solitude--of "walking alone in some solitary grove, betwixt wood and water, by a brook-side, to meditate upon some delightsome and pleasant subject" are depicted by the truly original pencil of this said Robert Burton, in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_, vol. i., p. 126, edit. 1804. But our theme is Bibliomania. Take, therefore, concerning the same author, the following: and then hesitate, if thou canst, about his being infected with the BOOK-DISEASE. "What a catalogue of new books all this year, all this age (I say) have our Frank-furt marts, our domestic marts, brought out! Twice a year, 'Proferunt se nova ingenia et ostentant;' we stretch our wits out! and set them to sale: 'Magno conatu nihil agimus,' &c. 'Quis tam avidus librorum helluo,' who can read them? As already, we shall have a vast chaos and confusion of books; we are oppressed with them; our eyes ake with reading, our fingers with turning," &c. This is painting _ad vivum_--after the life. We see and feel every thing described. Truly, none but a thorough master in bibliomaniacal mysteries could have thus thought and written! See "_Democritus to the Reader_," p. 10; perhaps the most highly finished piece of dissection in the whole _anatomical work_.]

About this period lived LORD LUMLEY; a nobleman of no mean reputation as a bibliomaniac. But what shall we say to Lord Shaftesbury's eccentric neighbour, HENRY HASTINGS? who, in spite of his hawks, hounds, kittens, and oysters,[346] could not for [Transcriber's Note: extraneous 'for'] forbear to indulge his book propensities though in a moderate degree! Let us fancy we see him, in his eightieth year, just alighted from the toils of the chase, and listening, after dinner, with his "single glass" of ale by his side, to some old woman with "spectacle on nose" who reads to him a choice passage out of John Fox's _Book of Martyrs_! A rare old boy was this Hastings. But I wander--and may forget another worthy, and yet more ardent, bibliomaniac, called JOHN CLUNGEON, who left a press, and some books carefully deposited in a stout chest, to the parish church at Southampton. We have also evidence of this man's having _erected a press_ within the same; but human villany has robbed us of every relic of his books and printing furniture.[347] From Southampton, you must excuse me if I take a leap to London; in order to introduce you into the wine cellars of one JOHN WARD; where, I suppose, a few choice copies of favourite authors were sometimes kept in a secret recess by the side of the oldest bottle of hock. We are indebted to Hearne for a brief, but not uninteresting, notice of this _vinous_ book collector.[348]

[Footnote 346: Of the bibliomaniacal spirit of LORD LUMLEY the reader has already had some slight mention made at pages 273, 281, ante. Of HENRY HASTINGS, Gilpin has furnished us with some anecdotes which deserve to be here recorded. They are taken from Hutchin's _Hist. of Dorsetshire_, vol. ii., p. 63. "Mr. HASTINGS was low of stature, but strong and active, of a ruddy complexion, with flaxen hair. His cloaths were always of green cloth. His house was of the old fashion; in the midst of a large park, well stocked with deer, rabbits, and fish-ponds. He had a long narrow bowling green in it, and used to play with round sand bowls. Here too he had a banquetting room built, like a stand in a large tree. He kept all sorts of hounds, that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger; and had hawks of all kinds, both long and short winged. His great hall was commonly strewed with marrow-bones, and full of hawk-perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers. The upper end of it was hung with fox-skins of this and the last year's killing. Here and there a pole-cat was intermixed, and hunter's poles in great abundance. The parlour was a large room, completely furnished in the same style. On a broad hearth, paved with brick, lay some of the choicest terriers, hounds, and spaniels. One or two of the great chairs had litters of cats in them, which were not to be disturbed. Of these, three or four always attended him at dinner, and a little white wand lay by his trencher, to defend it, if they were too troublesome. In the windows, which were very large, lay his arrows, cross-bows, and other accoutrements. The corners of the room were filled with his best hunting and hawking poles. His oyster table stood at the lower end of the room, which was in constant use twice a day, all the year round; for he never failed to eat oysters both at dinner and supper, with which the neighbouring town of Pool supplied him. At the upper end of the room stood a small table with a double desk; one side of which held a CHURCH BIBLE: the other the BOOK OF MARTYRS. On different tables in the room lay hawks'-hoods, bells, old hats, with their crowns thrust in, full of pheasant eggs, tables, dice, cards, and store of tobacco pipes. At one end of this room was a door, which opened into a closet, where stood bottles of strong beer and wine; which never came out but in single glasses, which was the rule of the house, for he never exceeded himself, nor permitted others to exceed. Answering to this closet was a door into an old chapel; which had been long disused for devotion; but in the pulpit, as the safest place, was always to be found a cold chine of beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of bacon, or a great apple-pye, with thick crust, well baked. His table cost him not much, though it was good to eat at. His sports supplied all but beef and mutton, except on Fridays, when he had the best of fish. He never wanted a London pudding, and he always sang it in with "_My part lies therein-a_." He drank a glass or two of wine at meals; put syrup of gilly-flowers into his sack, and had always a tun glass of small beer standing by him, which he often stirred about with rosemary. He lived to be an hundred, and never lost his eyesight, nor used spectacles.

He got on horseback without help, and rode to the death of the stag till he was past fourscore." Gilpin's _Forest Scenery_, vol. ii., pp. 23, 26. I should add, from the same authority, that Hastings was a neighbour of Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury, with whom (as was likely enough) he had no cordial agreement.]

[Footnote 347: "In the northern chapel which is parted from the side aile by a beautiful open Gothic screen, is a handsome monument to the memory of the lord Chancellor Wriothesly, and a _large and costly standing chest_, carved and inlaid, and stated, by an inscription on its front, to have been given, _with the books in it_, by JOHN CLUNGEON.

The inscription is as follows:

"John, the sonne of John Clungeon of this towne, Alderman, _erected this presse_ and gave certain books, who died, anno 1646.

"The books are, however, now gone, and the surplices, &c.

are kept in the chest." See a tasteful and elegantly printed little volume, entitled "_A Walk through Southampton_;" by Sir H.C. Englefield, Bart. 1801, 8vo., p. 64.]

[Footnote 348: Ward is described by Hearne as being "a citizen and vintner of London," and "a lover of antiquity's." He had a copy of the _Chartulary of Dunstaple_, in MS., which was put by Wanley into the Harleian collection. The following entry is too much of a characteristic trait, not to be gratifying to the palate of a thorough bred bibliomaniac; it relates to the said Chartulary:--"also this vellum, at both ends of the booke, was then added, put in, and inserted, at the costs of the said Mr. (JOHN) WARD, in the said yeare of our Lord, 1655,

_s._ _d._ binding and claspes 4 00 vellum 4 00"

_Annals of Dunstaple Priory_, vol. i., p. xxx., note.]

LIS. If Master Cox, "by profession a mason," and living in the country, could have collected such a cabinet of romances and ballads--why should not a wine merchant, living in the metropolis, have turned his attention to a similar pursuit, and have been even more successful in the objects of it?

PHIL. I know not; particularly as we have, at the present day, some commercial characters--whose dealings in trade are as opposite to books as frogs are to roast beef--absolute madmen in search after black-letter, large paper, and uncut copies! But proceed, Lysander.

LYSAND. Such was the influence of the _Book Mania_ about, or rather a little before, this period that even the sacred retirement of a monastery, established upon Protestant principles, and conducted by rules so rigid as almost to frighten the hardiest ascetic, even such a spot was unable to resist the charms of book-collecting and book-embellishment. How St. Jerome or St. Austin would have lashed the FERRAR FAMILY[349] for the gorgeous decorations of their volumes, and for devoting so much precious time and painful attention to the art and mystery of Book-binding! Yes, Lisardo; it is truly curious to think upon the _Little Gidding Monastery_--near which, perhaps, were

----"rugged rocks, that holy knees had worn--"

and to imagine that the occupiers of such a place were infected--nay, inflamed--with a most powerful ardour for curious, neat, splendid, and, I dare venture to affirm, matchless copies of the several volumes which they composed! But I will now hasten to give very different evidence of the progress of this disease, by noticing the labours of a bibliomaniac of first rate celebrity; I mean ELIAS ASHMOLE:[350] whose museum at Oxford abundantly proves his curious and pertinacious spirit in book-collecting. His works, put forth under his own superintendence, with his name subjoined, shew a delicate taste, an active research, and, if we except his _Hermetical_ propensities, a fortunate termination. His "opus maximum" is the _Order of the Garter_; a volume of great elegance both in the composition and decorations. Your copy of it, I perceived, was upon _large paper_; and cost you--

[Footnote 349: It remains here to make good the above serious charges brought against the ancient and worthy family of the FERRARS; and this it is fully in my power to do, from the effectual aid afforded me by Dr. Wordsworth, in the fifth volume of his _Ecclesiastical Biography_; where the better part of Dr. Peckard's Life of Nicholas Ferrar is published, together with some valuable and original addenda from the archiepiscopal library at Lambeth. Be it, however, known to Dr. Wordsworth, and the reviewer of the Ecclesiastical Biography in the _Quarterly Review_, vol.

iv., pp. 93, 103, that Hearne had previously published a copious and curious account of the monastery at Little Gidding in the supplement to his _Thom. Caii. Vind.

Antiquit. Oxon._, 1730, 8vo., vol. ii.: which, as far as I have had an opportunity of examining Dr. Wordsworth's account, does not appear to have been known to this latter editor. We will now proceed to the bibliomaniacal anecdotes of NICHOLAS FERRAR, SENIOR AND JUNIOR. "Amongst other articles of instruction and amusement, Mr. FERRAR (senior) entertained an ingenious _Book-binder_ who taught the family, females as well as males, the whole art and skill of _book-binding_, gilding, lettering, and what they called pasting-printing, by the use of the rolling press. By this assistance he composed a full harmony, or concordance, of the four evangelists, _adorned with many beautiful pictures_, which required more than a year for the composition, and was divided into 150 heads or chapters."

There is then a minute account of the mechanical process (in which the nieces assisted) how, by means of "great store of the best and strongest white paper, nice knives and scissars, pasting and rolling-press" work--the arduous task was at length accomplished: and Mary Collet, one of Mr.

Ferrar's nieces, put the grand finishing stroke to the whole, by "doing a deed"--which has snapt asunder the threads of Penelope's web for envy:--"She bound the book entirely, ALL WROUGHT IN GOLD, in a new and most elegant fashion." The fame of this book, or concordance, as it was called, reached the ears of Charles I., who "intreated"

(such was his Majesty's expression) to be favoured with a sight of it. Laud and Cousins, who were then chaplains in waiting, presented it to the King; who "after long and serious looking it over, said, 'This is indeed a most valuable work, and in many respects to be presented to the greatest prince upon earth: for the matter it contains is the richest of all treasures. The laborious composure of it into this excellent form of _an Harmony_, the judicious contrivance of the method, the curious workmanship in so neatly cutting out and disposing the text, _the nice laying of these costly pictures, and the exquisite art expressed in the binding_, are, I really think, not to be equalled. I must acknowledge myself to be, indeed, greatly indebted to the family for THIS JEWEL: and whatever is in my power I shall, at any time, be ready to do for any of them.'"

_Eccles. Biogr._, vol. v., 172-8. This was spoken, by Charles, in the true spirit of a Book-Knight! Cromwell, I suppose, would have shewn the same mercy to this treasure as he did to the madonnas of Raffaelle--thrown it behind the fire, as idolatrous! The nephew emulated and eclipsed the bibliomaniacal celebrity of his uncle. At the age of twenty-one, he executed three books (or "works" as they are called) of uncommon curiosity and splendour. Archbishop Laud, who had a keen eye and solid judgment for things of this sort (as the reader will find in the following pages) undertook to introduce young Ferrars to the King. The introduction is told in such a pleasing style of _naivete_, and the manual dexterity of the young bibliomaniac is so smartly commended by Charles, that I cannot find it in my heart to abridge much of the narrative. "When the king saw the Archbishop enter the room, he said, 'What have you brought with you those _rarities_ and _jewels_ you told me of?' 'Yea, sire,' replied the bishop; 'here is the YOUNG GENTLEMAN and his works.' So the bishop, taking him by the hand, led him up to the king. He, falling down on his knees, the king gave him his hand to kiss, bidding him rise up. The box was opened, and NICHOLAS FERRAR, first presented to the king that book made for the prince; who taking it from him, looking well on the outside, which was _all green velvet, stately and richly gilt all over, with great broad strings, edged with gold lace, and curiously bound_, said, 'Here is a fine book for Charles, indeed! I hope it will soon make him in love with what is within it, for I know it is good,' &c.

And lo! here are also store of _rare pictures_ to delight his eye with! &c., &c. Then, turning him to the Lord of Canterbury, he said, 'Let this young gentleman have your letters to the princes to-morrow, to Richmond, and let him carry this present. It is a good day, you know, and a good work would be done upon it.' So he gave Nicholas Ferrar the book; who, carrying it to the box, took out of it a very large paper book, which was the FOURTH WORK, and laid it on the table before the king. 'For whom,' said the king, 'is this model?' 'For your majesty's eyes, if you please to honour it so much.' 'And that I will gladly do,' said the king, 'and never be weary of such sights as I know you will offer unto me.' The king having well perused the title page, beginning, 'The Gospel of our Lord and blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ, in eight several languages,' &c., said unto the lords, 'You all see that one good thing produceth another. Here we have more and more rarities; from print now to pen. These are fair hands, well written, and as well composed.' Then replied the Lord of Canterbury, 'When your majesty hath seen all, you will have more and more cause to admire.' 'What!' said the king, 'is it possible we shall behold yet more rarities?' then said the bishop to Nicholas Ferrar, 'Reach the other piece that is in the box:' and this we call the FIFTH WORK; the title being _Novum Testamentum, &c., in viginti quatuor linguis, &c._ The king, opening the book, said, 'Better and better. This is the largest and fairest paper that ever I saw.' Then, reading the title-page, he said, 'What is this? What have we here? The incomparablest book this will be, as ever eye beheld. My lords, come, look well upon it. This finished, must be the EMPEROR OF ALL BOOKS. It is the crown of all works. It is an admirable masterpiece. The world cannot match it. I believe you are all of my opinion.' The lords all seconded the king, and each spake his mind of it. 'I observe two things amongst others,' said the king, 'very remarkable, if not admirable.

The first is, how is it possible that a young man of twenty-one years of age (for he had asked the Lord of Canterbury before, how old Nicholas Ferrar was) should ever attain to the understanding and knowledge of more languages than he is of years; and to have the courage to venture upon such an Atlas work, or Hercules labour. The other is also of high commendation, to see him write so many several languages, so well as these are, each in its proper character. Sure so few years had been well spent, some men might think, to have attained only to the _writing_ thus fairly, of these twenty-four languages!' All the lords replied his majesty had judged right; and said, except they had seen, as they did, the young gentleman there, and the book itself, all the world should not have persuaded them to the belief of it." _Ecclesiastical Biography_, vol. v., pp.

216, 220. But whatever degree of credit or fame of young FERRARS might suppose to have been attached to the execution of these "pieces," his emulation was not damped, nor did his industry slacken, 'till he had produced a specimen of much greater powers of book-decoration. His appetite was that of a giant; for he was not satisfied with any thing short of bringing forth a volume of such dimensions as to make the bearer of it groan beneath its weight--and the beholders of it dazzled with its lustre, and astonished at its amplitude.

Perhaps there is not a more curious book-anecdote upon record than the following. "Charles the 1st, his son Charles, the Palsgrave, and the Duke of Lennox, paid a visit to the monastery of Little Gidding, in Huntingdonshire--the abode of the Ferrars."--"Then, the king was pleased to go into the house, and demanded where the GREAT BOOK was, that he had heard was made for Charles's use. It was soon brought unto him; and the _largeness_ and _weight_ of it was such that he that carried it seemed to be _well laden_. Which the duke, observing, said, 'Sir, one of your strongest guard will but be able to carry this book.' It being laid on the table before the king, it was told him that, though it were then fairly bound up in _purple velvet_, that the outside was not fully finished, as it should be, for the prince's use and better liking. 'Well,' said the king, 'it is very well done.' So he opened the book, the prince standing at the table's end, and the Palsgrave and Duke on each side of the king. The king read the title page and frontispice all over very deliberately; and well viewing the form of it, how adorned with _a stately garnish of pictures, &c._, and the curiousness of the writing of it, said, 'Charles, here is a book that contains excellent things. This will make you both wise and good.' Then he proceeded to turn it over, leaf by leaf, and took exact notice of all in it: and it being _full of pictures of sundry mens cuts_, he could tell the palsgrave, who seemed also to be knowing in that kind, that this and this, and that and that, were of such a man's graving and invention. The prince all the while greatly eyed all things; and seemed much to be pleased with the book. The king having spent some hours in the perusal of it, and demanding many questions was occasion as, concerning the contrivement, and having received answers to all he demanded, at length said, 'It was only _a jewel for a Prince_, and hoped CHARLES would make good use of it: and I see and find, by what I have myself received formerly from this good house, that they go on daily in the prosecution of these excellent pieces. They are brave employments of their time.' The Palsgrave said to the prince, 'Sir, your father the king is master of the goodliest ship in the world, and I may now say you will be master of the GALLANTEST GREATEST BOOK in the world: for I never saw _such paper_ before; and believe there is no book of this largeness to be seen in Christendom.' 'The paper and the book in all conditions,'

said the king, 'I believe it not to be matched. Here hath also in this book not wanted, you see, skill, care, nor cost.' 'It is a most admirable piece,' replied the Duke of Richmond. So the king, closing the book, said, 'Charles, this is yours.' He replied, 'But, Sir, shall I not now have it with me?' Reply was made by one of the family, 'If it please your highness, the book is not _on the outside so finished_ as it is intended for you, but shall be, with all expedition, done, and you shall have it.' 'Well,' said the king, 'you must content yourself for a while.'"--_Ecclesiastical Biography_, vol. v., p. 237.]

[Footnote 350: In the year 1774, was published an octavo volume, containing the lives of WILLIAM LILLY the astrologer, and ELIAS ASHMOLE the antiquary: two of the greatest _cronies_ of their day. The particulars of Ashmole's life are drawn from his own _Diary_, in which is detailed every thing the most minute and ridiculous; while many of the leading features in his character, and many interesting occurrences in his life, are wholly suppressed.

The editor has not evinced much judgment in causing posterity to be informed when Ashmole's "_great and little teeth ached, or were loose_:" when his "_neck break forth, occasioned by shaving his beard with a bad razor_" (p. 312); when "_his maid's bed was on fire, but he rose quickly (thanking God) and quenched it_" (p. 313); and when he "_scratched the right-side of his buttocks, &c., and applied pultices thereunto, made of white bread crums, oil of roses, and rose leaves_;" (p. 363--and see particularly the long and dismal entries at p. 368.) All this might surely have been spared, without much injury to the reputation of the sufferer. Yet, in some other minute entries, we glean intelligence a little more interesting. At p. 324, we find that Ashmole had quarrelled with his wife; and that "Mr.

Serjeant Maynard observed to the Court that there were 800 sheets of depositions on his wife's part, and not one word proved against him of using her ill, or ever giving her a bad or provoking word:" at page 330, we find Ashmole accompanying his heraldic friend Dugdale, in his "visitations" of counties; also that "his picture was drawn by Le Neve in his herald's coat:" Loggan afterwards drew it in black lead: p. 352. But here again (p. 353) we are gravely informed that "_his tooth, next his fore tooth in his upper jaw, was very loose, and he easily pulled it out, and that one of his middle teeth in his lower jaw, broke out while he was at dinner_." He sat (for the last time) for "a second picture to Mr. Ryley," p. 379. Ashmole's intimacy with Lilly was the foundation of the former's (supposed) profundity in alchemical and astrological studies. In this Diary we are carefully told that "Mr. Jonas Moore brought and acquainted him with Mr. William Lilly, on a Friday night, on the 20th of November," p. 302. Ashmole was then only 26 years of age; and it will be readily conceived how, at this susceptible period, he listened with rapture to his master's exposition of the black art, and implicitly adopted the recipes and maxims he heard delivered. Hence the pupil generally styled himself _Mercuriophilus Anglicus_, at the foot of most of his title-pages: and hence we find such extraordinary entries, in the foresaid diary, as the following: "This night (August 14, 1651) about one of the clock, I fell ill of a surfeit, occasioned by drinking _water after Venison_. I was greatly oppressed in my stomach; and next day Mr. Saunders, _the astrologian_, sent me a piece of briony-root to hold in my hand; and within a quarter of an hour my stomach was freed from that great oppression," p. 314. "Sep. 27, 1652, I came to Mr. John Tompson's, who dwelt near Dove Bridge; he used a call, and had responses in a soft voice," p. 317. At p. 318 is narrated the commencement of his acquaintance with the famous Arise Evans, a Welsh prophet: whose "_Echo from Heaven_," &c., 2 parts, 1652, 12mo., is a work noticed by Warburton, and coveted by bibliomaniacs. Yet one more quack-medicine entry: "March 11, 1681. I took early in the morning a good dose of Elixir, and hung three spiders about my neck, and they drove my ague away--Deo gratias!" p. 359.

It seems that Ashmole always punctually kept "_The Astrologer's Feast_;" and that he had such celebrity as a curer of certain diseases, that Lord Finch the Chancellor "sent for him to cure him of his rheumatism. He dined there, but would not undertake the cure," p. 364. This was behaving with a tolerable degree of prudence and good sense. But let not the bibliomaniac imagine that it is my wish to degrade honest old Elias Ashmole, by the foregoing delineation of his weaknesses and follies. The ensuing entries, in the said Diary, will more than counterbalance any unfavourable effect produced by its precursors; and I give them with a full conviction that they will be greedily devoured by those who have been lucky enough to make good purchases of the entire libraries of deceased characters of eminence. In his 37th year, Ashmole "bought of Mr. Milbourn all his books and mathematical instruments;" and the day after (N.B. "8 o'clock, 39 min. post merid.") "he bought Mr. Hawkins's books," p. 312. In the ensuing year he "agreed with Mrs.

Backhouse, of London, for her deceased husband's books," p.

313. He now became so distinguished as a successful bibliomaniac that Seldon and Twysden sought his acquaintance; and "Mr. Tredescant and his wife told him that they had been long considering upon whom to bestow their _closet of curiosities_, and at last had resolved to give it unto him," p. 326. Having by this time (A.D. 1658) commenced his famous work upon _The Order of the Garter_, he was introduced to Charles II.: kissed hands, and was appointed by the king "to make a description of his medals, and had them delivered into his hands, and _Henry the VIIIth's closet_ assigned for his use," p. 327. In this same year came forth his "_Way to Bliss_;" 4to.: a work so invincibly dull that I despair of presenting the reader with any thing like entertainment even in the following heterogeneous extract: "When our natural heat, the life of this little world, is faint and gone, the body shrinks up and is defaced: but bring again heat into the parts, and likewise money into the bankrupt's coffers, and they shall be both lusty, and flourish again as much as ever they did. But how may this heat be brought again? To make few words, even as she is kept and held by due _meat_ and _motion_; for if she faint, and falleth for want of them only, then give her them, and she shall recover herself again. Meat is the bait that draws her down: motion comes after, like a _Gad-Bee_, to prick her forward; but the work is performed in this order. First this meat, which is that fine and aethereal oyl often above-described, by the exceeding piercing swifteness, divides, scatters, and scowres away the gross and foul dregs and leavings which, for want of the tillage of heat, had overgrown in our bodies, and which was cast, like a blockish stay-fish in the way, to stay the free course of the ship of life: these flying out of all sides, abundantly pluck up all the old leavings of hair, nails, and teeth, by the roots, and drive them out before them: in the mean while, our medicine makes not onely clear way and passage for life, if she list to stir and run her wonted race (which some think enough of this matter), but also scattereth all about her due and desired meat, and first moisture to draw her forward. By which means our life, having gotten both her full strength and liveliness, and returned like the sun in summer into all our quarters, begins to work afresh as she did at first; (for being the same upon the same, she must needs do the same) knitting and binding the weak and loose joynts and sinews, watering and concocting all by good digestion; and then the idle parts like leaves shall, in this hot summer, spring and grow forth afresh, out of this new and young temper of the body: and all the whole face and shew shall be young again and flourishing," pp. 119, 120.