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THE LIBRARY OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

GIFT OF

Kate Grordon Moore

^i

THE BOOK-LOVERS^ ANTHOLOGY

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

EDITED BY

R.

LEONARD

' Here I have but gatliercd a nosegay ot" strange llourcs, and have put nothing of mine into it but the thred to binde them.' Montaigne (Florio's translation)

HENRY FROWDE

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE

1911

oxioKD : hoi;a(JE hakt

I'BIKTEU TO THE UiilVERSITl'

PHEFACE

One of the most delightful of the Last Essays of Elia is entitled ' Detached Thoughts on Books and Reading ', a title which would serve very well to indicate the contents of this anthology. In bringing together into one volume the tributes and opinions of a galaxy of \vriters, my object has been the glorification of books as books, a book being regarded as a real and separate entity, and often as an end in itself. There is a wide circle to whom this collection should appeal, in addition to bibliomaniacs or mere collec- tors of first or rare editions to whom the contents are often anathema, for the love of books is not confined to scholars or great readers. This love is incommunicable : it comes, but happily seldom goes, as the wind which bloweth where it listeth ; it is perfectly sincere, and knows nothing of conventions and sham admirations.

No greater lover of books has ever lived than that English- man who was born at Bury St. Edmunds seven hundred and thirty years ago — Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, author of Philobiblon, and, as Lord Campbell said, un- doubtedly the founder of the order of book- lovers in England. Centuries passed, and then the more modern worship of books was promoted by one of even higher station than til is lord chancellor and lord high treasurer of England — by King James, whom sycophants and cynics called the British Solomon. The sixteenth century saw also the births

8S5905

vi TIIK nOOK-LOVEBS' ANTHOLOGY

of Bacon, Burton, and Florio, tlu^ inspired translator of Montaigne, and Ben Jonson, who all deserved well of the order. Milton, with prose and poetry, handed down the sacred fire in the seventeenth century, and his

soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart.

Dr. Johnson, nearly a hundred years later, filled a niche of his own, irreverent though he was to books except for their message. The latter half of the eighteenth century is especially memorable, for it synchronized with the early years of Southey, Lamb, and Leigh Hunt, the very temples of the spirit which I have sought to enshrine in these pages, and of Hazlitt, and of two who should be dear to librarians, Crabbe and John Foster. I should like to claim an honoured place in the nineteenth century for Bulwer Lytton, who, although he understood ' the merits of a spotless shirt ', understood books also and appreciated them thoroughly ; and for the Brownings, especially the author of Aurora Leigh. Emerson is conspicuous, not only as a book-lover, but also as a professor of books, and as a missionary in tlie sense that Carlj^le and Ruskin preached the gospel of books. Many others deserve honourable mention, but I must pass on to some of those who adom the present day. It would have been very pleasant to have seen Ijord Morley, Mi. Frederic Harrison, IMr. Austin Dobson, Mr. Edmund Gosse, Mr. Andrew Lang, and Mr. Augustine Birrell appearing in this cloud of witness, but happily they are alive to testify to the faith tliat is in them, and for tliat reason are beyond the scope of an antliology confined to authors who are dead.

It may be pointed out that theie has been an increasing

PREFACE vii

tendency to write not so much about books as about the autliors of books ; but to have inchided literaiy criticism, except incidentally, would have increased this volume to prodigious size. Wliile I have been obliged for the same reason to ignore, as a rule, individual volumes, an exception has been made of the Bible, which is itself a library, and this is justified by the fact that many pages are devoted to libraries. Scores of poems have been prefixed to volumes or addressed in apology to possible readers, but these, and colophons, interesting though they may be, do not fit in with my scheme. However tempting it seemed to give versions of Catullus, Horace, or Martial, translations from ancient classic Aviiters have been excluded ; but room has been found for classic writers of comparatively modern times, for it would have been ridiculous to have passed over, for example, Montaigne, whose immortal essays liave been handed down in the splendid English dress of John Florio's design. For the rest, the contents of this volume, in which more than 200 authors bear their varying testimony, must speak for themselves.

The passages Avill be found grouped more or less according to subjects, though the dividing lines are fine, and chrono- logical order within the limits of the groups has been a secondary consideration. After forewords by Lamb, the anthology deals with books as companions, the love of and delight in books, the immortality of books and tlie immor- tality which they convey, the multiphcity of books and the distraction of choice ; ancient and modern books and their respective claims ; books that are or may be thought injurious ; novels and romances ; bookmaking of various kinds — plagiarism, books about books, anthologies, abridge-

viii TTIE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

ments, dedications, presentation copies, bibliographies, translations, and quotations ; books and preachers, and books as ' the true university of these days ' ; critics and criticism ; rules for reading, commonplace-books, abstracts, epitomes, and marginalia ; casual and superficial reading, talking from books, brains turned by books, over- reading ; books and life ; books as an enemy to health and as pharmaceutical preparations for mental indisposition ; reading in bed, at meal-times, and out-of-doors, and tlie call of the book of nature ; the horn-book and other books for children ; advice on youthful reading, and the early pre- ferences of some notable book-lovers; love and literature, and the conflict betAveen matrimony and the library ; women and books and libraries ; the human species of book-worms, bibliomaniacs, and pedants ; the proper handling of books ; bindings, book illustrations, &c. ; book pests — worms and moths ; ' finds ' at second-hand book- shops and what Leigh Hunt calls ' bookstall urbanity ' ; booksellers and publishers ; mammon and books ; book borrowers and book borrowing ; bookish similes ; books for magic ; the Bible ; literary geography ; libraries — as studies and keys to character, private libraries real and imaginary, public libraries — from the provincial reference library to the British Museum, reflections in libraries, Crabbe's masterpiece, the libraries of Oxford and Cambridge with fitting tributes to Bodley ; and, finally, a memorable tribute to books and the priceless treasury that a library affords. The source of the quotations is generally given ; and the index of authors quoted or referred to, together with a full list of contents, and, it is hoped, the notes, should serve the convenience of tlie reader.

PREFACE ix

Many years ago ]Mr. Alexander Ireland gave me a copy of The Book-Lover's Enchiridion, and my debt to that ' treasmy of thoughts on the Solace and Companionship of Books ' is great. ]Mr. Ireland's object was ' to present, in chrono- logical order, a selection of the best thoughts of the greatest and wisest minds on the subject of Books — their solace and companionship — their efficacy as silent teachers and guides — and the comfort, as of a living presence, which they afford amidst the changes of fortune and the accidents of life.' In this volume I have taken the subject and mj^self less seriouslj" than would have been possible to ]\Ir. Ireland. The ' thoughts ' which I have collected are more ' detached ', and they cover a wider field. I am under much obligation also to the Ballads of Books, which IVIr. Brander Matthews compiled nearly a quarter of a century ago and Mr. Andrew Lang recast, and to Mr. W. Roberts's Book-Verse. Mainly, however, I have relied upon my own personal reading — ' blessing,' as Lamb said, ' my stars for a taste so catholic, so unexcluding ' — and upon research, in which I have had invaluable assistance from friends and colleagues. I am fortunately able to include many copyright pieces, and I have to thank the following for tlie necessary per- mission : —

Messrs. G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., for B. W. Procter's autobio- graphical fragment, ' My Books ' ; Messrs. Chapman & Hall, for what I have taken from a contribution to the Fortnightly Reviewhy Mark Pattison, and for the passage from Carlyle's Historical Sketches ; Messrs. Chatto & Windus, for the poems by Laman Blanchard, also for the passage from R. Jefferies' Life of the Fields ; and Messrs. Macmillan & Co., for the excerpt from the same author's The Dewy Morn ;

A3

X THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Messrs. Constable & Co., and the executors of the late George Gissing, for the passages from Tlie Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft ; Mr. A. C. Fifield, for Samuel Butler's whimsical irreverence quoted from Quis Desiderio ; Mr. Edward Garnett, for Richard Garnett's poem ; the Houghton Mifflin Co., for Whittier's ' The Library ' ; Messrs. Long- mans, Green & Co., for R. L. Stevenson's ' Picture Books in Winter ' (and Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons in respect of copyright in America) ; Mi\ Elkin Mathews, for Lionel Johnson's poem ; Messrs. G. Routledge & Sons, Ltd., for Longfellow's ' My Books ', and ' Bayard Taylor ' (and the Houghton Mifflin Co. in respect of copyright in America) ; Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co., for J. A. S3'monds's poem from Lyrics of Life ; and Dr. A. Stoddart Walker, for permission to quote from J. S. Blackie's Self-Culture.

In Guesses at Truth the brothers Hare wrote : ' They who cannot weave a uniform net, may at least produce a piece of patchwork, which may be useful, and not without a charm of its own.' It is my modest ambition that book-lovers shall find this volume useful and not without charm.

R. M. Leonabd.

CONTENTS

Addison, Joseph (1672-1719).

The Legacies of Genius

The Authors' Advantage .

The evil that Men do

A great Book is a great evil

Chance Readings

A Lady's Library

Books for a Lady's Library Alcott, Amos Bbonson (1799-1

The Fellowship of Books . Alcuin or Ealwhixe (735-80'1).

An Episcopal Library

Arblay, Frances, j\L\dame d' (17.52-1840).

Royal Patronage of Books Armstrong, John (1709-79).

Read without Prejudice . Arnold, Matthew (1822-88).

The Grand Mme of Diction Ascham, Roger (1515-68).

Books that do Hurt.

Epitomes. .....

Athexiax Mkhci i!Y, Till-:

Whether 'tis laAvful to read Romances

PAGE

14 60 80 119 145 209 211

0

311

253

127

297

77 138

85

Aungervile. See Bury. Austen, Jane (1775-1817).

Only a Novel 87

Bacon, Francis, Lord Verulam and Viscount St. Albans (1561-1626).

Enduring Monuments ....... 46

Old Authors to Read

Dedications

' Books will speak plain

Studies

05

97

113

124

xii THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

PAGE

Bacon, Francis, Lord Verttt-am and Viscount St. Albans ( 1 5(5] -1 r)2()) {continued)—

Commonplace Books ....... 141

Over-reading . . . . . . . . .157

A great Necromancer ....... 287

The Shrines of the Ancient Saints ..... 325

Bailey, Philip James (1816-1902).

' Worthy Books ' 5

Bale, John, Bishop of Ossory (1495-1563).

A most Horrible Infamy ....... 325

Barclay, Alexander (1475 ?-1552).

Envoy to Fools 218

Barnes, William (1801-86).

Learning .......... 173

Barrow, Isaac (1630-77).

He that loveth a Book wUl never want .... 3

Barton, Bernard (1784-1849).

Composed in the Rev. J. Mitford's Library . . . 324

Baxter, Richard (1615-91).

Romances are Pernicious ....... 84

Books preferred to Preachers ...... 108

Bayly, Thomas Haynes (1797-1839).

A Novel of High Life 88

Beaconsfield, Earl or. See Disraeli, Benjamin.

Beecher, Henry Ward (1813-1887).

The Bodleian : a Dead Sea of Books .... 364

Beresford, James (1764-1840).

Bibliosophia ......... 225

Eye- worship ......... 242

Blackie, John Stuart (1809-95).

Overrating the Value of Books. ..... 162

Blanchakd, Samuel Laman (1804-45).

The Double Lesson . . . . . . . .192

The Art of Book-keeping 280

Blount, Charles (1654-93).

The Imprimatur . . . . . . .119

CONTENTS

Xlll

BoswELL, James (1740-95). See also Johnson, Shakespeare in Heaven Reading according to Inclination Johnson's Cursory Eeading Talking from Books The Dog and the Bone . Books you may hold in your hand

Brant, Sebasti.\n (1458-1521). The Chief Fool

Browne, Sib Thomas (1605-82). Superfluous Books .

Browne, Sib William (1692-1774).

Oxford and Cambridge : an Epigram

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett (1806-61) ' Books are men of higher stature ' Reading as Intellectual Indolence The Poets .... The World of Books A Forced Sale .... The Library in the Garret

Browning, Robert (1812-89). Sibrandus Schafuaburgensis The Find ....

Brydges, Grey, Lord Chandos (1579 ?-1621).

The greatest Clerks be not always the \\isest Men

Buckingham, Duke of. See Sheffield.

Bulwer, See Lytton, Lord.

Bunyan, John (1628-88).

The Scriptures : what are they ? . . .

Burney, Fanny. See Abbl.\y.

Burns, Robert (1759-96).

The Bookworms ......

The big Ha'-Bible

Burton, John Hill (1809-81).

A Sense of Humour .....

A Course of Reading ..... Definitions .......

page 48 128 148 153 170 247

216

58

113

39 159 205 206 259 318

236

257

149

292

249 298

18 134 235

XIV

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Burton, Robert (1577-1640).

An extraordinary Delight to study .

' Though they wTite conlemptu gloriae '

Every Man his Due

Read the Scriptures

To be chained with good Authors

Bury, Richard de, Bishop of Durham (1281-1345). The Desirable Tabernacle . Books as Memorials . Woman and Books . Of Handling Books , Deductions from Scripture Mammon and Books

Butler, Joseph (1692-1752).

The Habit of Casual Reading .

Butler, Samuel (1612-80).

Superficial Readers ....

Butler, Samuel (1835-1902). Books in a New Light

Byron, George Gordon, Lord (1788-1824). A Lasting Link of Ages . ' 'Tis pleasant, sure ' . . .

Love and the Library To Mj\ Murray ....

Calverley, Charles Stuart (1831-84). Of Reading .....

Campion, Thomas (1567 ?-1620). The Writer to his Book .

Carlyle, Thomas (1795-1881).

The Miraculous Art of Writing The Virtue of a True Book The Real Working Effective Church The True University of These Days A Very Priceless Thing

Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de (1547-1616) ' There is no Book so bad ' . . .

The Burning of Dun Quixote's Books

Lii-vNDos, Lord. Sec Bkydges.

I'A(JE

26

51

89

290

356

13

43 203 239 240 273

147

151

330

52

95

198

268

135

261

42

52

109

112

295

117 155

CONTENTS

XV

Channing, William Ellery (1780-1842).

Books the True Levellers ..... The Diffusion of Books and its Effect upon Culture Folly generated by Books ....

Chaucer, Geoffrey (1340 ?-1400).

To Drive the Xight Away ....

Farewell to Books in Springtime The Oxford Scholar and his Books .

Chesterfield Earl of. See Staxhope. Churchyard, Thomas (1520 ?-1604).

Books is Nurse to Truth .....

Cobbett, Willl4M (1762-1835).

The Danger of Poets and Romances

A Birth of Intellect ......

Coleridge, Hartley (1796-1849). Suitable Bindings

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834). Books as Fruitful Trees . Reading to kill Time The Pilgrim's Progress

Collier, Jeremy (1650-1726).

Of the Entertainment of Books

CoLTON, Charles Caleb (1780 ?-1832). ' We should choose our Books ' ' There are many Books written ' Readers and Writers Title-readers .... Books and Men

Cook, Eliza (1818-89).

Old Story Books ....

'Cornwall, Barry.' See Procter, B. W.

Cowley, Abraham (1618-67). ' May I a small house ' . Material for Poesy .... Pindaric Ode .....

paoe

19

60

156

169 172 216

33

86 184

246

129 153 293

34

6 120 123 154 159

177

Cowper, William (1731-1800). Books bad and good Swallowing the Husks

12 295 360

81

158

xvi THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

PAGB

CowPER, William (1731-1800) (continued) —

' 'Twere well with most, if Books ' . . . . . 208

An Ode to Mr. John Rouse (translated from Milton). . 357

Crabbe, George (1754-1832).

The Prouder Pleasures of the Mind ..... 26

The Old Bachelor's Books 215

The Peasant's Library . . . . . . .317

The Library 337

Crashaw, Richard (1613 V-49).

Upon the Book of St. Teresa ...... 106

On a Prayer-Book sent to Mrs. M. R 200

On George Herbert's The Temple, sent to a Gentlewoman . 201

Cross, Mary Ann. See Eliot.

Daniel, Samuel (1562-1619).

Immortality in Books ....... 46

O Blessed Letters ........ 51

To the Countess of Bedford . . . . . .195

Dante Alighieri (1265-1321).

Love's Purveyor . . . . . . . .192

Davenant, Sir William (1606-68).

Hidden Treasure ........ 92

Davies, Sir John (1569-1626).

What profits it 163

Davy. Sir Humphry (1778-1829).

Permanence for Thought ....... 41

Dawson, George (1821-76).

The Consulting-room of a Wise Man .... 309 The Reference Library 327

Denham, Sir John (1615-69).

For wisdom, piety, delight, or use ..... 33

De Quincey, Thomas (1785-1859).

Instruction or Amusement ...... 36

The Distraction of Choice . . . . . .61

DiBDiN, Thomas Fkognall (1776-1847).

An Unworthy Professor ....... 227

A Bibliomaniac ........ 228

Book Illustrations and Nightmare ..... 247

CONTENTS xvii

Dickens, Chakles (1812-70). page

Early Reading 188

What a Heart-breaking Shop ...... 272

DiGBY, Sib Kenelm (1603-65).

Reading in Bed 169

Dillon, Wentwoeth, Earl of Roscommon (1633 ?-85).

' Choose an author as you choose a friend ' . . . 7

Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield (1804-81).

' Lady Constance guanoed her mind ' .... 88

Biography preferred to History ..... 99

' The author who speaks about his own Books ' . . 154

D'IsRAELi, Isaac (1766-1848).

Golden volumes ! richest treasures ..... 226

A Malady of weak Minds 227

Accidents to Books ........ 275

DoDD, William (1729-77).

In Prison ......... 15

Donne, John (1573-1631).

Valediction to his Book . . . . . . .190

The Library and the Grave . . . . . . 305

Dovaston, John Freeman Milward (1782-1854).

The Cure for Bookworms ...... 253

Drayton, Michael (1563-1631).

Immortality in Song ....... 56

Translations from the Classics ...... 100

Drummond, William (1585-1649).

The Strange Quality of Books ...... 47

The Book of Nature 283

Of Libraries : The Bodleian ...... 355

Dryden, John (1631-1700).

A Learned Plagiary . . . . . . . .91

Under Mr. Milton's Picture lOG

Dudley, Earl of. See Ward.

Dyer, George (1755-1841).

' Libraries are the wardrobes of literature ' . . . 306

Ealwhine. See Alcuin.

Earle, John, Bishop of Salisbury (1601 ?-65).

' His Invention is no more ' . . . . . .94

A Critic 114

THE BOOK-LOVEm' ANTHOLOGY

Earle, JohNj'Bishop of Salisbukv (IGUl A Pretender to Learning . An Antiquary .....

-05) [continued)-

* Eliot, George' (1819-80).

The Vocation ......

' Wise books, For half the truths they hold '' Of The Imitation of Christ

Emerson, Ralph Waldo (1803-82).

A Company of the Wisest and the \^'ittiest

The Theory of Books

The Book the Highest Delight .

The pleasure derived from Books

Our Debt to a Book

A Sort of Third Estate .

On Reading Translations .

Merit in Quotation ....

The Need of a Guide to Books

The Final Verdict upon Books .

' Talent alone cannot make a w riter '

Reading between Lines

Rules for Reading ....

A Diet of Books ....

Erasmus, Desiderius (1466 ?-1536).

The Royal Road ....

Faber, Frederick William (1814-63). The English of the Bible . A College Library

Ferriar, John (1761-1815). The Bibliomania

Fielding, Henry (1707-54). The filial piety of Books .

Fletcher, John (1579-1625).

The Library a Glorious Court

Fletcher, Phineas (1582-1650). Upon my Brother's Book.

Foster, John (1770-1843). The Influence of Books Reflections in a Library .

150 219

260

287 299

6 21

28

29

29

74

99

103

111

116

116

122

132

133

123

297 365

220

118

305

10(i 38

CONTENTS

XIX

Fuller, Thomas (1608-61). The Multiplicity of Books Printers gain by bad Books ' A commonplace Book contains many notions

Garnett, Richard (1835-1906). Our master, Meleager

Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn (1810-65). Books for the Salon.

Gay, John (1685-1732).

The Elephant and the Bookseller On a Miscellany of Poems

Gibbon, Edward (1737-94). Abstracts of Books . Early Reading .... Women's Want

Gilfillan, George (1813-78).

The True Poem on the Library

GissiNG, George (1857-1903). The Mood for Books The Scent of Books.

Glanvill, Joseph (1636-80).

' That silly vanity of impertment citations ' The Mote and the Beam ....

Godwin, William (1756-1836).

The Depositary of everything honourable . Bad Books and debauched Minds

Goldsmith, Oliver (1728-74).

Sweet Unreproaching Companions

The Reading of New Books

Literary Hypocrisy .....

' I love everything that is old ' Greene, Robert (1558-92).

Books for Magic ..... Hale, Sir Matthew (1609-76).

No Book like the Bible .... Hales, John (1584-1656).

The Method of reading profane History .

Hall, John (1627-56).

Men in their Niglltgo^^'ns .... AVhcn to Read. .....

I'ACiE

125 170 331

XX THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Hall, Joseph, Bishop of Exeter and Norwich (1574-1656). How to spend our Days .......

Reading and Meal Times .......

On the Sight of a Great Library .....

Hamilton, Sir William (1788-1856).

Underscoring ......... 140

Hake, Augustus William (1792-1834), and Julius Charles Hare (1795-1855).

In the Seat of the Scorner Books of One Thought Purple Patches Books that provoke Thought Desultory Reading . Brains squashed by Books

Harington, Sir John (1561-1612). Against writers that carp .

Hazlitt, William (1778-1830).

The only Things that last for ever

On Reading Old Books

On Reading New Books .

The best Books the commonest

The visionary Gleam

The enviable Bookworm .

Ears nailed to Books

Helps, Sir Arthur (1813-75).

Biography . . . . .

Thoughts in a Library

Hemans, Felicia Dorothea (1793-1835). To a Family Bible ....

Herbert, George (1593-1633).

The Parson's Accessory Knowledge

Herrick, Robert (1591-1674).

To His Book .... ' Thou art a plant.' ' Make haste away.' ' If hap it must.' ' The bound, almost.' ' Go thou forth.'

115 121 122 131 148 156

114

49 69 71 182 189 228 229

99 334

294

140 45"

CONTENTS

XXI

Herrick, Robert (1591-1674) {continu&d) —

His Prayer for Absolution ....

Virginibus Puerisque .....

Lines have their linings, and Books their buckram

Heeschel, Sik John Fbederick William (1792-1871). A Taste to be Prayed For ... . .

Novels as Engines of Civilization

HoBBES, Thomas (1588-1679).

' If I had read as much as other men '

Holmes, Oliver Wendell (1809-94). Old and New Books Presentation Copies . ' The foolishest Book ' The Literary Harem Purchasing an Act of Piety The Study

The Library as a Key to Character ' Every library should try to be complete

Hood, Thomas (1799-1845).

Rich Fare .....

Howell, James (1594 ?-1666). The Choice of Books Marriage and Books . The Value of Book Borrowing .

Htint, James Henry Leigh (1784-1859) On Parting mth my Books Love that is large . Authors as Lovers of Books The Authors' Metamorphosis A Library of One A Literatura Hilaris. Early Reading . Kissing a Folio Delight in Book- Prints The Second-hand Catalogue Borrowing and Lending Wedded to Books . The Book of Books .

PAGE

77

84

242

27

87

158

74 98 118 233 258 307 309 31S

29

198 275

9

10

20

50

62

167

187

233

248

256

278

278

294

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

PACE

Hunt, James Hkn'hv Lkkmi (1784-18r)9) {contimml) —
Literary Geography ......	. 300
Scotland .......	. 300
England .......	. 301
Ireland .......	. 302
The Library as Study .....	. 305
Charles Lamb's Library . . • •. •	. 323

Irving, Washington (1783-1859). True Friends that Cheer .

Jago, Richabd (1715-81).

To a Lady furnishing her Library

Jeffebies, Richabd (1848-87).

When Translations are to be preferred In the British Museum Library

Jebbold, Douglas William (1803-57). ' A blessed companion is a Book '

Johnson, Lionel (1869-1902).

Oxford Nights .....

Johnson, Samuel (1709-84). See also Boswell. Why Books are Read An ignorant Age hath many Books . The Moons of Literature . Books of Morality .... The Secret Influence of Books . Dead Counsellors are safest Reading According to Inclination Marginal Notes and Commonplace Books Getting a Boy forward At Large in the Library . Early Reading .....

JoNsoN, Ben (1573 ?-1637). To Sir Henry Goodyer To my Book .... Book-makers and Plagiarists To George Chapman What Shakespeare hath left us . On the Portrait of Shakespeare The lirst Authors for Youth 'I'o mv Bookseller

212

101

328

12

3CG

37 60 67 108 109 109 128 143 181 181 183

1(1 76 91 101 103 105 180 261

CONTENTS

Keats, John (1795-1821).

On First Looking into Chapman's Homer

King, William (1663-1712),

A Moth

A Modern Library ....

KiNGSLEY, Charles (1819-75). Useful and Mighty Things Liberty and Bad Books .

Lamb, Charles (1775-1834). Grace before Books . A Catholic Taste in Books A Whimsical Surprise Books with One Idea in Them When and Where to Read Proof of good Matter Out-of-doors Reading Discrimination in Bindings The Treasure . The Readers at the Bookstall To the Editor of The Everifday Bool The Poor Student . Borrowers of Books . The Bodleians of Oxford .

Landoe, Walter Savage (1775-1864). To Wordsworth

' Well I remember how you smiled ' The Dead alone Canonized The Classics .... To Leigh Hunt Small Authors Dangerous. Old-Fashioned Verse Sent «ith Poems Safe and untouched .

Law, William (1686-1761).

Classicus ..... Poetry and Piet}-

Leighton, Robert (1822-69). The Libraries of Heaven .

Lewis, Matthew Gregory (1775-1818). In Paternoster Row.

I'AGE

100

252 311

25

83

1

17 84 121 130 170 171 244 254 255 269 274 276 364

21

57

66

67

95

131

186

202

312

66 209

49 26;!

XXIV

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Locke, John (1632-1704).

Chewing the Cud .... A new Method of a Commonplace Book

LocKHART, John Gibson (1794-1854). The Bible and Burns

PAGE

126

141

298

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth (1807-82).

My Books 10

' The sweet serenity '....... 20

Bayard Taylor 234

The Wind over the Chimney ...... 286

Lowe, Robert, Lord Sherbrooke (1811-92).

Remunerative Reading ......

Lowell, James Rtjssell (1819-91). Security in Old Books Literature for Desolate Islands.

Lyly, John (1554 ?-1606). Fashion in Books ' Far more seemly were it '

39

75 303

43 304

Lytton, Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, Barox (1803-73).

The Souls of Books 22

The Classics always Modern ...... 68

The Bee and the Butterfly 143

The Pharmacy of Books . . . . . . .165

The Library an Heraclea ....... 329

M., J. (fl. 1627).

On the Library at Cambridge ...... 368

Macadlay, Thomas Babington, Lord (1800-59).

Action and Reaction ....	. 53
The Value of Modern Books .	73
Original Editions .....	96
The Critics' Influence on the Public .	. 117
Classical Education for Women	. 207
' I would rather be a poor man '	. 232
Maccreery, John (1768-1832).
Bookbindings . . . . . .	. 243
Maginn, William (1793-1842).
The Booksellers' Banquet . . .	. 271

CONTENTS

XXV

Mallet, David (1705 ?-65).

The Reading Coxcomb .....

IVIaurice, Frederick Denison (1805-72).

The Ultimate Test of Books .... The Message of Books .....

Milton, John (1608-74).

Books are not dead things ....

' To the pure all things are pure ' .

Plagiarie ........

Shakespeare's livelong Monument

' Deep-versed in Books and shallow in himself '

Tetrachordon .......

An Ode to Mr. John Rouse (translated by Cowper) MiTFORD, Mary Russell (1787-1855).

That invention of the enemy — an Abridgement.

Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley (1689-1762).

A cheap and lasting Pleasure ....

Montaigne, Michael Eyquem de (1533-92). John Florio's Translation —

The Commodity Reaped of Books

Coats for Mackerel .....

Transplantation .....

Inductive Criticism .....

' There's more ado to interpret interpretation ' Bescribbling with Notes ....

Skipping Wit ......

Books an Enemy to Health

Early Reading ......

Letter- Ferrets ......

The Author's Library ....

MooRE, Thomas (1779-1852). ' My only Books ' . A Counter Attraction ....

More, Hannah (1745-1833).

A Daughter's Favourite Novels

Literary Cookery .....

More, Sir Thomas (1478-1535). Of a New- married Student

NoRRis, John (1657-1711).

' Reading without thinking ' . . .

page 152

53 161

47 83 90 105 157 256 357

96 204

32 44 90 122 122 139 144 163 182 218 319

196 19!)

86 92

198 142

THE ROOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Norton, Caroline Elizabeth Sarah (Lady Rtxrling-Maxwell) (1808-77).

To my Books .........

Norton, John Bruce (1815-83).

Merton Library ........

Oldham, John (1653-83). To Cosmelia

Orford, Earl op. See Walpole.

OvERBTJRY, Sir Thomas (1581-1613). Man's Prerogative .

Parnell, Thomas (1679-1718). The Bookworm

Parrot, Henry (fl. 1600-26).

Ad Bibliopolam .....

Pattison, Mark (1813-84).

The Manufactory of Books

Payn, James (1830-98).

The Blessed Chloroform of the Mind

Peacham, Henry (1576 ?-1643 ?).

A Bookish Ambition ....

Care as to Bindings . . . .

Peacock, Thomas Love (1785-1866).

The Outside of a Book ....

Percy, Thomas, Bishop op Dromore (1729-1811). Whv Books were Invented

Petrarch (Petrarca) Francesco (1304-74). The Delightful Society of Books

Pope, Alexander (1688-1744).

Style V. Sense . Where Fools Rush In Homer and Virgil Lintott's New IMiscellany Cibber's Library

Praed, Winthrop Mackworth (1802-39).

To Helen : ^v^itten in Keble's Christian Year

365

199

13

250

202

92

108

149 241

247

37

114 11.-. 127 267 313

201

CONTENTS

XXVll

Prideaux, Peter (1578-1650).

On the Death of Sir Thomas Bodley

Procter, Adelaide Akne (1825-64).

A Student

Procter, Bryan Waller (Barry Cornwall) (1787-1874). My Books ........

Qttakles, Francis (1572-1644).

On Buying the Bible ......

Rabelais, Fran§ois (1483-1553).

By Divine Inspiration ......

Writing at Meal Times ......

Richardson, Samuel (1689-1761).

Advice to Mothers .......

page . 356

. 238

8

. 291

. 41 . 171

Robertson, Frederick William (1816-53). Books instead of Stimulants

Rochester, Earl of. See Wilmot,

Roscoe, William Caldwell (1823-59). To my Books on Parting with Them

Roscommon, Earl of. See Dillon.

RusKiN, John (1819-1900).

Books of the Hour and of aU Time

Taste in Literature and Art

Reading and Illiteracy

Girls' Reading.

The Most Valuable Book .

National Expenditure on Books

Libraries for Every City . St. Albans, Viscount. See Bacon.

Saxe, John Godfrey (1816-87). The Library ....

Scott, Sir Walter (1771-1832). Appetite and Satiety The (ihost of Betty Barnes The Antiquary's lYeasures The Bannatyne Club Dominie Sampson in the Library

181

165

54 117 159 208 254 274 326

3.-)4

147 203 231 270 315

xxviii TIIK liOOK-WVEPS' ANTHOLOGY

Selden, John (1584-1654).

' It is good to have translations ' Quotation ....

Censorship ....

fairly hound

Shakespeare, William (1564r-1616). ' Who will believe my verse ' ' Study is like the heaven's glorious sun ' How well he 's read ' Books and Eyesight. Reading for Love's Sake . The Book of the Brain Books as Spokesmen Women's eyes .... ' Marriage ! my years are young " ' The state, whereon I studied ' Dainties that are Bred of a Book ' Is not the leaf turned doM-n ' . Gold Clasps and a Colden Story Nobler than Contents ' Hark you, sir ; I'll have them very ' In Nature's infinite Book ' The Secret of Strength Red Letters and Conjuring ' Come, and take choice ' . ' Of his gentleness, Knomng I loved my Books ' ' Me, poor man, — my library ' .

Sheffield, John, Duke of Bxjckinqh.\m (1648-1721). The Sufficiency of Homer .....

Sherbrooke, Viscount. See Lowe.

Sheridan, Caroline Elizabeth Sarah. See Norton.

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley (1751-1816). ' Steal ! to be sure thej' -w ill ' . Lydia Languish and the Circulating Library A neat Rivulet of Text .....

Sheridan, Thomas (1687-1738).

Our Best Acquaintance .....

Shirley, James (1596-1666).

Sweet and Happy Hours ..... A Book of Flesh and Blood ....

100 102 119

55 159 162 164 189 191 194 196 198 215 219 240 242 242 243 283 288 289 306 310 316

127

91 213 249

11

26

196

CONTENTS

XXIX

Skelton, John (14(30 V-1529). page

An Edition de luxe ........ 241

Smith, Alexandkb (1830-(j7).

The True Elysian Fields 11

Power and Gladness. ....... 32

Smith, Sydney (1771-1845).

A Short Cut to Fame 154

' No furniture so charming as iiooks ' . . . . 264

South, Robeet (1634-1716).

' He who has published an injurious Book ' . . .80

A little Book the most excellent ..... 120 ' Much reading is like much eating ' . . . . .158

SouTHEY, Robert (1774-1843).

My days among the Dead are passed

A Heavenly Delight

The Best of all Possible Company

JMore than Meat, Druik, and Clothing . • . . .28

A Library of TMclve ....... 62

Reading several Books at a time ..... 130

Homo Unius Libri ........ 292

A Colloquy in a Library ....... 320

Sfensek, Edmund (1552 ?-99).

One day I wrote her name ...... 56

To his Book : of his Lady ...... 195

Stanhope, Philip Dobmeb, Eakl oe Chesterfield (1694-1773).

A Consolation for the Deaf ...... 4

Books and the World 180

The last Editions the best ...... 235

'Tis foUy to be wise ....... 246

Genteel Ornaments ........ 273

Steele, Sir Richard (1672-1729).

Exercise for the Mind ....... 37

Stephen, Sib James (1789-1859).

Poets as Commentators ....... 136

Sterne, Laurence (1713-1768).

The Company of Mutes ....... 3

Mr. Shandy's Library 314

XXX THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850-181)4).

Picture -Books in Winter ......

Stirling-Maxwell. Lady. See Norton.

Swift, Jonathan (1667-1745). The Battle of the Books . Receipe for an Anthology . Cupid and the Book of Poems A Standard for Language. ' I have sometimes heard '

Sylvester, Josuah (1563-1618).

Surcloying the Stomach . . . •

Symonds, John Addington (1840-93).

vTro6TjK7] 6(s t^avTuv ('Back to thy books!')

Taylor, John (1580-1653).

Books and Thieves ..... To the Good or Bad Reader Fast and Loose .....

On Coryafs Cnidities ....

Temple, Sir William (1628-99). The Multiplication of Originals . Ancient and Modern Books Books as Signposts .

Tennyson, Alfred, Lord (1809-92), Poets and their Bibliographies . Merlin's Book ....

I'AUE

174

63

94

194

296

303

156

197

77 150 289 302

59

63

110

98

289

Thackeray, William Makepeace (1811-63).

Novels are Sweets ......

' There are no race of people who talk about Books ' A Kindly Tie

Thomson, James (1700-48). The Mighty Dead .

Thomson, Richard (1794-1865). The Book of Life .

I'iCKLE, Thomas (1686-1740). The Hornbook

89 153 187

161

284

175

CONTENTS xxxi

TooKE, John Hornb (1736-1812), page

Read Few Books well 129

Tkapp, Joseph (1679-1747).

Oxford and Cambridge : an Epigram . . . .113

Teench, Richard Chevenix, Archbishop of Dublin (1807-86).

Books and Life ........ 160

TuppER, Martin Faequhar (1810-89).

Books and Friends ........ 12

Turner, Charles Tennyson (1808-79).

On Certain Books ........ 82

Vaughan, Henry (1622-95).

To his Books 13

The Book 284

To the Holy Bible 290

On Sir Thomas Bodley's Library ..... 362

Vere, Sir Attbeey de (1788-1846).

Sacred and Profane Writers ...... 296

V^ekulam, Loed. 8ee Bacon.

Voltaire, Feancois Maeie Aeouet de (1094-1778).

Multiplication is Vexation . . . . . .59

The Seat of Authority 107

Wallee, Sir William (1597 ?-1668).

The Contentment I have in my Books .... 2

Riding Post 146

Full Libraries and Empty Heads ..... 149

Walpole, Horatio, Earl of Oeford (1717-97).

Lounging Books ........ 169

Literary Upholsterers ....... 264

Ward, John William, Eael of Dudley (1781-1833).

A Preference for Great Models ...... 72

Watts, Isaac (1674-1748).

Books to be Marked . . • • • .139

Wesley, John (1703-91).

' I read only the Bible ' 291

A Man of one Book ....... 292

xxxii 77/ /i' BOOK-LOVERS' AXTIIUWUV

WhITJJLOCKK, BULSTIIODK (1605-75).

The (Souls Viaticum ....... 368

Whittier, John Greknleaf (1807-92).

A Magnate in the Realm of Hooks ..... 7 The Library 326

WiLMOT, John, Eakl of Rochkster (1647-80).

' Books bear him up awhile ' . . . . . .39

Wilson, John (d. 1889).

0 for a Booke 171

Wither, George (1588-1667).

Mountebank Authors ....... 78

' Good God ! how many dimgboats ' .... 94

In bondage to the Bookseller ...... 262

Wordsworth, William (1770-1850).

Books a substantial World ...... 21

The Tables Turned 172

Early Reading. ........ 184

Young, Edward (1683-1765).

How Volumes Swell. ....... 93

An ignorant Book-collector ...... 219

Notes ........... 369

Index ov Authors mentioned in the Text and in the Notes 400

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

GRACE BEFORE BOOKS

I OWN that I am disposed to say grace upon twent}'' other occasions in the course of the day besides my dinner. I want a form for setting out upon a pleasant walk, for a moonlight ramble, for a friendly meeting, or a solved problem. Why have we none for books, those spiritual repasts — a grace before IVIilton — a grace before Shakespeare — a devotional exercise proper to be said before reading the Fairy Queen ? — but, the received ritual having prescribed these forms to the solitary ceremony of manducation, I shall confine my observations to the experience which I have had of the grace, properly so called ; commending my new scheme for extension to a niche in the grand philosophical, poetical, and perchance in part heretical liturgy, now compiling by my friend Homo Humanus, for the use of a certain snug congregation of Utopian Rabelaesian Christians, no matter where assembled. — C. Lamb. Grace before Meat.

THE DELIGHTFUL SOCIETY OF BOOKS

These friends of mine regard the pleasures of the world as the supreme good ; they do not comprehend that it is possible to renounce these pleasures. They are ignorant of my resources. I have friends whose society is delightful to me ; they are persons of all countries and of all ages ; distinguished in war, in council, and in letters ; easy to live with, alwaj^s at my command. They come at my call, and return when I desire them : they are never out of humour, and they answer all my questions with readiness. Some present in review before me the events of past ages ; others reveal to me the secrets of Nature : these teach me

B. L. A. B

2 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

liow to live, and those how to die : these dispel my melan- choly by their mirth, and amuse me by their sallies of wit : and some there are who prepare my soul to suffer everything, to desire nothing, and to become thoroughly acquainted with itself. In a word, they open a door to all the arts and sciences. As a reward for such great services, they require only a corner of my little house, where they may be safely sheltered from the depredations of their enemies. In fine, I carry them with me into the fields, the silence of which suits them better than the business and tumults of cities. — Petrarch. Life by S. Dodson.

THE CONTENTMENT I HAVE IN MY BOOKS

Here is the best solitary company in the world : and in this particular chiefly excelling any other, that in my stud}' I am sure to converse with none but wise men ; but abroad it is impossible for me to avoid the society of fools. What an advantage have I by this good fellowship that, besides the help which I receive from hence, in reference to my life after this life, I can enjoy the life of so many ages before I lived ! — that I can be acquainted with the passages of three or four thousand years ago, as if they were the weeklj^ occurrences ! Here, without travelling so far as Endor, I can call up the ablest spirits of those times ; the learnedest philosophers, the wisest counsellors, the greatest generals, and make them ser^^ceable to me. I can make bold with the best jewels they have in their treasmy, with the same freedom that the Israelites borrowed of the Egj'ptians, and, without suspicion of felon}', make use of them as mine own. I can here, \ntliout trespassing, go into their ^^neya^ds, and not only eat m}^ fill of their grapes for my pleasure, but put up as much as I Avill in my vessel, and store it up for my profit and advantage.

How doth tliis prospect at once set off the goodness of God to me, and discover mine own weakness ? His goodness in providing these helps for the improvement of mine understanding ; and my weakness in needing them. What a pitiful, simple creature am T, that camiot live to any purpose, without the help of so many other men's brains ! Lord, let this be the first lesson that I learn from these

BOOKS AS COMPANIONS 3

silent counsellors, to know my own ignorance : other knowledge puffeth up, this edifieth. — Sir W. Waller. Divine Meditations.

HE THAT LOVETH A BOOK WILL NEVER WANT

The calling of a scholar , . . fitteth a man for all conditions and fortunes ; so that he can enjoy prosperity with modera- tion, and sustain adversity with comfort : he that loveth a book will never want a faithful friend, a wholesome counsellor, a cheerful companion, an effectual comforter. . . . The reading of books, what is it but conversing with the wisest men of all ages and all countries, who thereby com- municate to us their most deliberate thoughts, choicest notions, and best inventions, couched in good expression, and digested in exact method ? The perusal of history, how pleasant illumination of mind, how useful direction of life, how spritely incentives to virtue doth it afford ! how doth it supply the room of experience, and furnish us with prudence at the expense of others, informing us about the ways of action, and the consequences thereof by examples, ^vithout our own danger or trouble ! — I. Barrow. Of Industry in our Particidar Calling as Scholars.

THE company of MUTES

I often derive a peculiar satisfaction in conversing with the ancient and modern dead, — who yet live and speak excellently in their works. — My neighbours think me often alone, — and yet at such times I am in company with more than five hundred mutes — each of whom, at my pleasure, communicates his ideas to me by dumb signs — quite as intelligibly as any person living can do b}^ uttering of words. — They always keep the distance from me which I direct, — and, with a motion of my hand, I can bring them as near to me as I please. — I lay hands on fifty of them sometimes in an evening, and handle them as I like ; — they never complain of ill-usage, — and, when dismissed from my presence — though ever so abruptly — take no offence. Such convenience is not to be enjoyed — nor such liberty to be taken — with the living. — L. Sterne. Letters.

4 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

A CONSOLATION FOR THE DEAF

I READ with more pleasure than ever ; perhaps, because it is the only pleasure I have left. For, since I am struck out of living company by my deafness, I have recourse to the dead, whom alone I can hear ; and I have assigned them their stated hours of audience. Solid folios are the people of business, with whom I converse in the morning. Quartos are the easier mixed company, with whom I sit after dinner ; and I pass my evenings in the light, and often frivolous, chit-chat of small octavos and duodecimos. — Lord Chester- field.

sweet unreproaching companions

I ARMED her [Olivia] against the censure of the world, showed her that books were sweet unreproaching com- panions to the miserable, and that if they could not bring us to enjoy life, they would at least teach us to endure it. — O. Goldsmith. The Vicar of Wakefield.

MY DAYS AMONG THE DEAD ARE PASSED

My days among the Dead are passed ;

Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast,

The mighty minds of old ; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal,

And seek relief in woe ; And while I understand and feel

How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedewed With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are vni\\ the Dead ; with them

I live in long-past years. Their virtues love, their faults condemn,

Partake their hopes and fears. And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with an humble mind.

THE BEST OF COMPANY 5

My hopes are with the Dead ; anou

My place with them will be. And I with them shall travel on

Through all Futurity ; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust.

R. 80UTHEY.

A HEAVENLY DELIGHT

Talk of the happiness of getting a great prize in the lottery ! What is that to the opening a box of books ! The joy upon lifting up the cover must be something like what we shall feel when Peter the Porter opens the door upstairs, and says. Please to walk in, sir. That I shall never be paid for my labour according to the current value of time and labour, is tolerably certain ; but if any one should offer me £10,000 to forgo that labour, I should bid him and his money go to the devil, for twice the sum could not purchase me half the enjoyment. It will be a great delight to me in the next world, to take a fly and visit these old worthies, who are my only society here, and to tell them what excellent company I found them here at the lakes of Cumberland, two centuries after they had been dead and turned to dust. In plain truth, I exist more among the dead than the living, and think more about them, and, perhaps, feel more about them. — R. Southey (Letter to S. T. Coleridge).

THE BEST OP ALL POSSIBLE COMPANY

Coleridge is gone to Devonshire, and I was going to say I am alone, but that the sight of Shakespeare, and Spenser, and Milton, and the Bible, on my table, and Castanheda, and Barros, and Osorio at my elbow, tell me I am in the best of all possible company. — R. Southey (Letter to G. C. Bedford).

Worthy books Are not companions — they are solitudes ; We lose ourselves in them and all our cares.

1*. J. Bailey. Fediin.

6 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

THE FELLOWSHIP OF BOOKS

What were clays without such fellowsliip ? We were alone in the world without it. Nor does our faith falter thougli the secret we search for and do not find in them will not commit itself to literature, still we take up the new issue with the old expectation, and again and again, as we try our friends after many failures at conversation, believing this visit will be the favoured hour and all will be told us. . . .

One must be rich in thought and character to owe nothing to books, though preparation is necessary to profitable reading ; and the less reading is better than more ; — book- struck men are of all readers least wise, however knowing or learned. — A. B. Alcott. Tablets.

A COMPANY OF THE WISEST AND THE WITTIEST

There are books which are of that importance in a man's private experience, as to verify for him the fables of Cor- nelius Agrippa, of Michael Scott, or of the old Orpheus of Thrace, — books which take rank in our life Avith parents and lovers and passionate experiences, so medicinal, so stringent, so revolutionary, so authoritative, — books which are the work and the proof of faculties so comprehensive, so nearly equal to the world A\hicli the}^ paint, that, though one shuts them with meaner ones, he feels his exclusion from them to accuse his way of living.

Consider what you have in the smallest chosen lil)rary. A company of the wisest and wittiest men that could be picked out of all c\x\\ countries, in a thousand years, have set in best order the results of their learning and wisdom. The men themselves Avere hid and inaccessible, solitary, impatient of interruption, fenced by etiquette ; but the thought which they did not uncover to their bosom friend is here written out in transparent words to us, the strangers of another age. — R. W. Emerson. Books.

We should choose our books as we w ould our companions, for their sterling and intrinsic merit . — C . C . Colton . Lacon .

THE FELLOWSHIP OF BOOKS

A MAGNATE IN THE REALM OF BOOKS

One, with his beard scarce silvered, bore

A ready credence in his looks, A lettered magnate, lording o'er

An ever-widening realm of books. In him brain-currents, near and far, Converged as in a Leyden jar ; The old, dead authors thronged him round about. And Elzevir's grey ghosts from leathern graves looked out.

He knew each living pundit well,

Could weigh the gifts of him or her, And well the market value tell

Of poet and philosopher. But if he lost, the scenes behind, Somewhat of reverence vague and blind, Finding the actors human at the best. No readier lips than his the good he saw confessed.

His boyhood fancies not outgrown, He loved himself the singer's art ; Tenderly, gently, bj- his own

He knew and Judged an author's heart. No Rhadamanthine brow of doom Bowed the dazed pedant from his room ; And bards, whose name is legion, if denied, Bore off alike intact their verses and their pride.

Pleasant it was to roam about

The lettered world as he had done, And see the lords of song without

Their singing robes and garlands on. With Wordsworth paddle Rydal mere. Taste rugged Elliott's home-brewed beer, And with the ears of Rogers, at fourscore, Hear Garrick's buskined tread and Walpolo's wit once more. J, G. Whittier. The Tent on the Beach.

Choose an author as you choose a friend. — W. Dillon, Earl of Roscommon. Esmy on Translated Verse.

THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

MY BOOKS

All round the room my silent servants Mait, —

My friends in every season, bright and dim ;

Angels and seraphim

Come doAvn and murmur to me, sweet and low.

And spirits of the skies all come and go

Early and late ;

From the old world's divine and distant date,

From the sublimer few,

Down to the poet who but yester-eve

Sang sweet and made us grieve.

All come, assembling here in order due.

And here I dwell a\ ith Poesy, my mate.

With Erato and all her vernal sighs.

Great Clio Avith her victories elate.

Or pale Urania's deep and starry eyes.

Oh friends, whom chance and change can never harm.

Whom Death the tyi'ant cannot doom to die,

Within whose folding soft eternal charm

I love to lie,

And meditate upon your verse that flows.

And fertilizes whereso'er it goes. . . .

B. W. Procter. An Autobiographical Fragment.

TO MY books

Silent companions of the lonely hour,

Friends who can never alter or forsake. Who for inconstant roving have no power.

And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take, — Let me return to you, this turmoil ending,

Which worldl)^ cares have in my spirit wrought. And, o'er your old familiar pages bending.

Refresh my mind with, many a tranquil thought ; Till, haj)ly meeting there, from time to time,

Fancies, the audible echo of my own. 'Twill be like hearing in a foreign clime

My native language spoke in friendly tone, And witli a sort of \\ elconie I shall dAvell On these, my unripe musings, told so well.

The Hon. Caroline Norton.

PARTING WITH BOOKS 9

ON PARTING WITH MY BOOKS

Ye dear companions of my silent hours, Whose pages oft before my eyes would strew So many sweet and variegated flowers — Dear Books, awhile, perhaps for ay, adieu ! The dark cloud of misfortune o'er me lours : No more by winter's fire — in summer's bowers, My toil-worn mind shall be refreshed by you : We part ! sad thought ! and while the damp devours Your leaves, and the worm slowly eats them through. Dull Poverty and its attendant ills, Wasting of health, vain toil, corroding care, And the world's cold neglect, which surest kills, Must be my bitter doom ; yet I shall bear Unmurmuring, for my good perchance these evils are.

J. H. Leigh Hunt.

TO MY BOOKS ON PARTING WITH THEM

As one who, destined from his friends to part.

Regrets his loss, yet hopes again erewhile.

To share their converse and enjoy their smile,

And tempers as he may affliction's dart, —

Thus, loved associates ! chiefs of elder Art !

Teachers of wisdom ! who could once beguile

My tedious hours, and lighten every toil,

I now resign you ; nor with fainting heart ;

For pass a few short years, or days, or hours,

And happier seasons may their dawn unfold.

And all your sacred fellowship restore ;

When, freed from earth, unlimited its powers,

Mind shall with mind direct communion hold.

And kindred spirits meet to part no more. — W. Roscoe.

TRUE FRIENDS THAT CHEER

It is a beautiful incident in the story of Mr. Roscoe's misfortunes, and one which cannot fail to interest the studious mind, that the parting with his books seems to have touched upon his tenderest feelings, and to have been the only circumstance that could provoke the notice of his

B 3

10 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Muse. The scholar only knows how dear these silent, yet eloquent, companions of pure thoughts and innocent hours become in the season of adversity. When all that is worldly turns to dross around us, these only retain tlieir steady value. When friends grow cold, and the converse of intimates languishes into vapid civility and commonplace, these only continue the unaltered countenance of happier days, and cheer us with that true friendship which never deceived hope nor deserted sorrow. — W. Irving. Tlte, Sketch Book.

MY BOOKS

Sadly as some old mediaeval knight

Gazed at the arms he could no longer wield, The sword two-handed and the shining shield Suspended in the hall, and full in sight,

While secret longings for the lost delight Of tourney or adventure in the field Came over him, and tears but half concealed Trembled and fell upon his beard of white,

So I behold these books upon their shelf, My ornaments and arms of other days ; Not wholly viseless, though no longer used.

For tliej'^ remind me of my other self,

Younger and stronger, and the pleasant ways. In which I walked, now clouded and confused.

H. W. Longfellow.

TO SIR HENRY' GOODY'ER

When I would Imow thee, Goodyer, my thought looks

Upon thy well-made choice of friends, and books ;

Then do I love thee, and behold thy ends

In making thy friends books, and tliy books friends :

Now must I give thy life and deed the voice

Attending such a study, such a choice ;

Where, though it be love that to thy praise doth move,

It was a knowledge that begat that love.

Ben Jonson.

ELY SI AN FIELDS 11

OUR BEST ACQUAINTANCE

While you converse with lords and dukes,

I have their betters here — my books ;

Fixed in an elbow chair at ease

I choose my companions as I please.

I'd rather have one single shelf

Than all my friends, except yourself ;

For after all that can be said

Our best acquaintance are the dead,

T. Sheridan.

THE TRUE ELYSIAN FIELDS

In my garden I spend my days ; in my library I spend my nights. My interests are divided between my geraniums and my books. With the flower I am in the present ; with the book 1 am in the past. I go into my Ubrary, and all historj^ uni-olls before me'. I breathe morning air of the world while the scent of Eden's roses yet lingered in it, while it vibrated only to the world's first brood of nightin- gales, and to the laugh of Eve. I see the pjri-amids building ; I hear the shoutings of the armies of Alexander ; I feel the ground shake beneath the march of Cambyses. I sit as in a theatre, — the stage is time, the play is the play of the world. What a spectacle it is ! What kingly pomp, what processions file past, what cities burn to heaven, what crowds of captives are dragged at the chariot-wheels of conquerors ! I hiss or cry " Bravo ' when the great actors come on shaking the stage. I am a Roman Emperor when I look at a Roman coin. I lift Homer, and I shout with AchUles in the trenches. The silence of the unpeopled Syrian plains, the out -comings and in-goings of the patri- archs, Abraham and Ishmael, Isaac in the fields at even- tide, Rebekah at the well, Jacob's guile, Esau's face reddened by desert sun-heat, Joseph's splendid funeral procession — all these things I find within the boards of my Old Testament. What a silence in those old books as of a half-peopled world — what bleating of flocks — what green pastoral rest — what indubitable human existence ! Across brawling centuries of blood and war, I hear the bleating of Abraham's flocks, the tinkling of the bells of Rebekah" s

12 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

camels. O men and women, so far separated, yet so near, 80 strange, yet so well-known, by what, miraculous power do I know ye all ! Books are the true Elysian fields where the spirits of the dead converse, and into these fields a mortal may venture unappalled. What king's court can boast such company ? What school of philosophy such wisdom ? The wit of the ancient world is glancing and flashing there. There is Pan's pipe, there are the songs of Apollo. Seated in my library at night, and looking on the silent faces of my books, I am occasionally visited by a strange sense of the supernatural. They are not collec- tions of printed pages, they are ghosts. I take one down and it speaks with me in a tongue not now heard on earth, and of men and things of which it alone possesses know- ledge. I call myself a solitary, but sometimes I think I misapply the term. No man sees more company than I do. I travel with mightier cohorts around me than ever did Timour or Genghis Khan on their fiery marches. 1 am a sovereign in my library, but it is the dead, not the living, that attend my levees. — A. Smith. Dreamtliorp.

BOOKS AND FEIENDS

One drachma for a good book, and a thousand talents for

a true friend ; — So standeth the market, where scarce is ever costly : Yea, were the diamonds of Golconda common as shingles

on the shore, A ripe apple would ransom kings before a shining stone : And so, were a wholesome book as rare as an honest friend. To choose the book be mine : the friend let another take. M. F. TUPPER. Proverbial Philosophy.

A BLESSED companion is a book, — a book that, fitly chosen, is a life -long friend. — D. Jerrold. Books.

May I a small house and large garden have ! And a few friends, and many books, both true.

A. Cowley. The Wish.

A COMMODITY OF DOCTRINE 18

THE DESIRABLE TABERNACLE

0 CELESTIAL gift of divine liberality, descending from the Father of light to raise up the rational soul even to heaven ! . . . Undoubtedly, indeed, thou hast placed thy desirable tabernacle in books, where the Most High, the Light of light, the Book of Life, liath established thee. Here then all who ask receive, all who seek find thee, to those who knock thou openest quickly. In books cherubim expand their A\ings, that the soul of the student may ascend and look around from pole to pole, from the rising to the setting sun, from the north and from the sea. In them the most high incom- prehensible God Himself is contained and worshipped. . . .

Let us consider how great a commodity of doctrine exists in books, how easily, how secretly, how safely they expose the nakedness of human ignorance ^nthout putting it to shame. These are the masters who instruct us without rods and ferules, without hard Avords and anger, without clothes or money. If 3^ou approach them, they are not asleep ; if investigating you interrogate them, they conceal nothing ; if you mistake them, thej^ never gTumble : if you are ignorant, they cannot laugh at j'ou. — R. de Bury. Philohihlon.

MAN S PREROGATIVE

Books are a part of man's jprerogative, In formal ink they thoughts and voices hold,

That we to them our solitude may give, And make time present travel that of old.j

Our life fame pieceth longer at the end,

And books it farther backward do extend.

Sir T. OvERBURY. The Wife.

TO HIS BOOKS

Bright books : the perspectives to our weak sights,

The clear projections of discerning lights.

Burning and sliining thoughts, man's posthume day,

The track of fled souls and their Milky Way,

The dead alive and busy, the still voice

Of enlarged spirits, kind Heaven's white decoys 1

14 77/ a; hook-lover,^' anthology

Who lives witli you, lives like those knowing flowers, Which in commerce with light spend all their hours ; Which shut to clouds, and shadows nicely shun, But with glad haste unveil to kiss the 8un. Beneath you, all is dark, and a dead night, Which whoso lives in, wants both health and sight.

By sucking you the Anse, like bees, do grow Healing and rich, though this they do most slow, Because most choicel}^; for as great a store Have we of books as bees of herbs, or more ; And the great task to try, then loiow, the good, To discern weeds, and judge of wholesome food. Is a rare scant performance : for man dies Oft ere 'tis done, while the bee feeds and flies. But you were all choice flowers ; all set and dressed By old sage florists, who well knew the best ; And I amidst you all am turned a weed ! Not wanting knowledge, but for want of heed. Then thank thyself, Avild fool, tliat wouldst not be Content to know — wliat was too much for thee.

H. Vattghan.

THE LEGACIES OF GENIUS

Quod nee Iovi.s ira, nee ignis, Nee poterit ferrum, nee edax abolere vetustas. — OAao.

' Aristotle tells us. that the world is a copy or transcript of those ideas which are in the mind of the first Being, and that those ideas which are in the mind of man are a tran- script of the world. To this we may add, that words are the transcript of those ideas which are in the mind of man, and that writing or printing is the transcript of words. As the Supreme Being has expressed, and as it were printed, his ideas in the creation, men express their ideas in books, which, b}" this great invention of these latter ages, may last as long as the sun and moon, and perish only in the general wreck of nature. Thus Cowley, in liis poem on the Resur- rection, mentioning the destruction of the universe, has these admirable lines :

Now all the wide extended sky,

And all the harmonious worlds on high

And Virgil's sacred work shall die.

THE LEGACIES OF GEN I US 15

There is no otlier method of fixing those tlioughts which arise and disappear in the niind of man, and transmitting them to the last j)eriods of time ; no other method of giving a permanency to our ideas, and preserving the knowledge of any particular person, when his body is mixed \\'ith the common mass of matter, and his soul retired into the world of spirits. Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind, which are delivered down from genera- tion to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn. — -J. Addison. Spectator, 166.

IN PRISON

0 HAPPY be the day which gave that mind

Learning's first tincture — blest thy fostering care.

Thou most beloved of parents, wortliiest sire !

Which, taste-inspiring, made the lettered page

My favourite companion : most esteemed.

And most impro\mig ! Almost from the day

Of earliest childhood to the present hour

Of gloomy, black misfortune, books, dear books.

Have been, and are, niy comforts. Morn and night,

Adversity, prosperity, at home,

Abroad, health, sickness, — good or ill report,

The same firm friends ; the same refreshment rich

And source of consolation. Nay, e'en here

Their magic power they lose not ; still the same,

Of matchless influence in this prison-house,

Unutterably horrid ; in an hour

Of woe, beyond all fancy's fictions drear.

W. DoDD. Thought!^ in Prison.

THE DEPOSITARY OF EVERYTHING HONOURABLE

Books are the depositary of everything that is most lionourable to man. Literature, taken in all its bearings, forms the grand line of demarcation between the human and the animal kingdoms. He that loves reading has everything within his reach. He has but to desire ; and he may possess himself of every species of \\isdom to judge and power to perform. . . .

16 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Books gratify and excite our curiosity in innumerable ways. They force us to reflect. Tliey hurry us from point to point. They present direct ideas of various kinds, and they suggest indirect ones. In a well-written book we are presented witli tlie maturest reflections, or the happiest flights, of a mind of uncommon excellence. It is impossible that we can be much accustomed to such companions, without attaining some resemblance of them. When I read Thomson, I become Thomson ; when I read Milton, I be- come Milton. I find myself a sort of intellectual chameleon, assuming the colour of the substances on A\hich I rest. He that revels in a well-chosen library has innumerable dishes, and all of admirable flavour. His taste is rendered so acute, as easily to distinguish the nicest shades of difference. His mind becomes ductile, susceptible to every impression, and gaining new refinement from them all. His varieties of thinking baffle calculation, and his poAvers, whether of reason or fancy, become eminently vigorous. — W. Godwin. The Inquirer : Of an Early Taste for Reading.

LOVE THAT IS LARGE

There is a period of modern times, at which the love of books appears to have been of a more decided nature than at either of these — I mean the age just before and after the Reformation, or rather all that period when book-\mting was confined to the learned languages. Erasmus is the god of it. Bacon, a mighty book-man, saw, among his other sights, the great advantage of loosening the vernacular tongue, and \vrote both Latin and English. I allow this is the greatest closeted age of books ; of old scholars sitting in dusty studies ; of heaps of ' illustrious obscure ', render- ing themselves more illustrious and more obscure by retreating from the ' thorny queaches ' of Dutch and German names into the ' vacant interlunar caves ' of appellations latinized or translated. I think I see all their volumes now, filling the shelves of a dozen German con- vents. The authors are bearded men, sitting in old Avood- cuts, in caps and go\\iis, and their books are dedicated to princes and statesmen, as illustrious as themselves. My old friend Wierus, who AVTote a thick book, De Praestigiis

A CATHOLIC TASTE 17

Daemonum, was one of them, and had a fancy worthy of his sedentary stomach. I will confess, once for all, that I have a liking for them all. It is my link with the biblio- maniacs, whom I admit into our relationship, because my love is large and my family pride nothing. But still I take my idea of books read witli a gusto, of companions for bed and board, from the two ages beforementioned. The other is of too book-worm a description. There must be both a judgement and a fervour ; a discrimination and a boyish eagerness ; and (with all due humility) sometliing of a point of contact between authors worth reading and the reader. How can I take Juvenal into the fields, or Val- carenghius De Aortae Aneurismate to bed with me ? How could I expect to walk before the face of nature with the one ; to tire my elbow properly with the other, before I put out my candle and turn round deliciously on the right side ? Or how could I stick up Coke upon Littleton against some- thing on the dinner-table, and be divided between a fresh paragraph and a moutl^ful of salad ? — J. H. Leigh Hunt. My Books.

A CATHOLIC TASTE IN BOOKS

To mind the inside of a book is to entertain one's self with the forced product of anothei' man's brain. Now I think a man of quality and breeding may be much amused with the natural sprouts of his own.

Lord Foppington in ' The Belapse ' .

An ingenious acquaintance of my owti was so much struck \\ith this bright sally of his Lordship, that he has left off reading altogether, to the great improvement of his originality. At the hazard of losing some credit on this head, I must confess that I dedicate no inconsiderable portion of my time to other people's thoughts. I dream away my life in others' speculations. I love to lose myself in other men's minds. When I am not walking, I am reading ; I cannot sit and think. Books think for me.

I have no repugnances. Shaftesbury is not too genteel for me, nor Jonathan Wild too low. I can read any thing which I call a book. There are things in that shape which I camiot allow for such. -

18 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

In this catalogue of hnnks which are no books — hihlia a-bihlia — I reckon Court Calendars, Directories, Pocket Books, Draught Boards bound and lettered at the back, Scientific Treatises, Almanacks, Statutes at Large ; the works of Hume, Gibbon, Robertson, Beattie, Soame Jenyns, and, generally, all those volumes whicli ' no gentle- man's library should be without ' ; the Histories of Flavius Josephus (that learned Jew), and Paley's Moral Philosophy. With these exceptions, I can read almost any thing. I bless my stars for a taste so catholic, so unexcluding.

I confess that it moves my spleen to see these things in books'" clothing perched upon shelves, like false saints, usurpers of true shrines, intruders into the sanctuary, thrusting out the legitimate occupants. To reach down a well-bound semblance of a volume, and hope it is some kind-hearted play-book, then, opening what ' seem its leaves ', to come bolt upon a withering Population Essay. To expect a Steele, or a Farquhar, and find — Adam Smith. To view a well-arranged assortment of blockheaded Encj'- clopaedias (Anglicanas or Metropolitanas) set out in an array of Russia, or Morocco, when a tithe of that good leather would comfortablv re-clothe my shivering folios ; would renovate Paracelsus himself, and enable old Raj^- mund Lully to look like himself again in the world. I never see these impostors but I long to strip them, to warm mj^ ragged veterans in their spoils. — C. Lamb. Detached Thoughts on Books and Beading.

A SENSE or HUMOUR

I AM not prepared to back Charles Lamb's Index Expurga- torius. It is difiicult, almost impossible, to find the book from which something either valuable or amusing may not be found, if the proper alembic be apphed. I know books that are ciirious, and really amusing, from their excessive badness. If you want to find precisely how a thing ought not to be said, you take one of them dowTi and make it perform the service of the intoxicated Spartan slave. There are some volumes in wliich, at a chance opening, you are certain to find a mere platitude delivered in the most superb and amazing climax of big words, and others in which you

TRUE LEVELLEBS 19

have a like liappy facility in finding every proposition stated with its stern forward, as sailors say, or in some other grotesque mismanagement of composition. There are no better farces on or off the stage than when two or three congenial spirits ransack books of this kind, and compete with each other in taking fun out of them. — J. H. Burton. The Book-Hunfer.

BOOKS THE TRUE LEVELLERS

It is chiefly through books tliat we enjoy intercourse ■n-ith superior minds, and these invaluable means of com- munication are in the reach of all. In the best books great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books ! They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to aU, who -will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of oiir race. No matter how poor I am. No matter though the prosperous of my o^ti time ^^dll not enter my obscure dwelling. If the Sacred Writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshold to sing to me of Paradise, and Shakespeare to open to me the worlds of imagination and the Avorkings of the human heart, and Franlvhn to enrich me Avith his practical AAisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionsliip, and I may become a cultivated man, though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live.

To make this means of culture effectual a man must select good books, such as have been A^-ritten by right- minded and strong-minded men, real thinkers, who instead of diluting bj" repetition AA^hat others saj', have something to say for themselves, and AA-rite to giA^e relief to full, earnest souls ; and these AA'orks must not be skimmed over for amusement, but read Avith fixed attention and a rcA^erential love of truth. In selecting books aac may be aided much by those AA^ho have studied more than ourselves. But, after all, it is best to be determined in this particular a good deal by our OAAai tastes. — W. E. Ciianning. Self-Culture.

20 THE BOOK-LOVEFS' ANTHOLOGY

AUTHORS AS LOVERS OF BOOKS

I LOVE an author the more for having been himself a lover of books. . . . We conceive of Plato as a lover of books ; of Aristotle certainly ; of Plutarcli, Pliny, Korace, Julian, and Marcus Aurelius. Virgil, too, must have been one ; and, after a fashion, Martial. May I confess that the passage which I recollect with the greatest pleasure in Cicero, is where he says that books delight us at home, and are no impedimerit abroad ; travel Avith us, ruralize with us. His period is rounded off to some purpose : Delectant donii, non impediunt foris ; peregrmantur, rusticantur .' I am so much of this opinion, that I do not care to be anywhere without having a book or books at hand, and like Dr. Orkbome, in the novel of Camilla, stuff the coach or post-chaise with them whenever I travel. As books, however, become ancient, the love of them becomes more unequivocal and conspicuous. The ancients had little of what we call learning. They made it. They were also no very eminent buyers of books — they made books for posterity. It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much. The scholar, in Chaucer, who would rather have

At his beddes head A twenty bokes, clothed, in black and red. Of Aristotle and his philosophy. Than robts rich, or fiddle, or psaltry — -

doubtless beat all our modern collectors in his passion for reading. . . . Dante puts Homer, the great ancient, in his El3^sium, upon trust ; but a few years afterwards. Homer, the book, made its appearance in Italy, and Petrarch, in a transport, put it upon his bookshelves, where he adored it, like ■ the unknown God '. Petrarch ought to be the god of the Bibliomaniacs, for he was a collector and a man of genius, which is an union that does not often happen. He copied out, with liis own precious hand, the manuscripts he rescued from time, and then produced others for time to reverence. With his head upon a book he died. — J. H. Leigh Hunt. My Books.

The sweet serenity of books. — H. W. Longfellow.

A SUBSTANTIAL WOULD 21

THE THEORY OF BOOKS

Books are the best type of the influence of the past. . . . The theory of books is noble. The scholar of the first age received into him the world around ; brooded thereon ; gave it the new arrangement of his o^\'n mind, and uttered it again. It came into him, life ; it went out from him, truth. It came to him, short-lived actions ; it went out from him, immortal thoughts. It came to him, business ; it went from him, poetry. It was dead fact ; now, it is quick thought. It can stand, and it can go. It now endures, it now flies, it now inspires. Precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar, so long does it sing. — R. W. Emerson. The American Scholar.

BOOKS A SUBSTANTIAL WORLD

Dreams, books, are each a world ; and books, we know,

Are a substantial world, both pure and good :

Romid these, A\dth tendrils strong as flesh and blood,

Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

There find I personal themes, a plenteous store.

Matter wherein right voluble I am.

To which I listen Avith a ready ear ;

Two shall be named, pre-eminently dear, —

The gentle Lad}^ married to the Moor ;

And heavenly Una with her milk-white Lamb. . . .

Blessings be ^\itll them — and eternal praise,

Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares —

The Poets, Avho on earth have made us heirs

Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays !

Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs,

Then gladly would I end my mortal days.

VV. Wordsworth. Peraonal Talk.

TO WORDSWORTH

We both haV'C run o'er half the space Listed for mortal's earthly race ; We both have crossed life's fervid line, And other stars befoi'e us shine ;

22 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

May they be bright and prosperous

As those that have been stars for us ! Our course by Milton's light was sped, And Shakespeare shining overhead : Chatting on deck was Diyden too, The Bacon of the rhyming crew ; None ever crossed our mystic sea More richly stored with thought than he ; Though never tender nor sublime. He wrestles with and conquers Time. To learn my lore on Chaucer's knee, I left much prouder company ; Thee gentle Spenser fondly led, But me he mostly sent to bed.

W. S. Landor. Miscellaneous Poems.

THE SOULS OF BOOKS

Sit here and muse ! — it is an antique room — High-roofed, with casements, through whose purple pane Unwilhng Daylight steals amidst the gloom, Shy as a fearful stranger.

There They reign (In loftier pomp than waking life had known), The Kings of Thought ! — not crowned until the grave When Agamemnon sinks into the tomb, The beggar Homer mounts the Monarch's throne ! Ye ever-living and imperial Souls, Who rule us from the page in AvMch ye breathe. All that divide us from the clod ye gave ! — Law — Order — Love — LiteUigence — the Sense Of Beauty — Music and the Slinstrel's wTeath ! — What were our wanderings if without your goals ? As air and light, the glory ye dispense Becomes our being — who of us can tell What he had been, had Cadmus never taught The art that fixes into form the thought — Had Plato never spoken from liis cell, Or his high harp blind Homer never strung ".' Kinder all earth hath groAvn since genial Shakespeare sung !

THE SOULS OF BOOKS 23

n Hark ! wliile we muse, Avithout the walls is heard The various murmur of the labouring crowd, How still, within those archive-cells interred, The Calm Ones reign ! — and yet they rouse the loud Passions and tumults of the circling world ! From them, how many a youthful TuUy caught The zest and ardour of the eageir Bar ; From them, how many a young Ambition sought Gay meteors glancing o'er the sands afar — By them each restless wing has been unfurled. And their ghosts urge each rival's rushing car ! They made yon Preacher zealous for the truth ; They made yon Poet wistful for the star ; Gave Age its pastime — fired the cheek of Youth — The unseen sires of all our beings are, —

III

And now so still ! This, Cicero, is thy heart ; I hear it beating through each purple line. This is thyself, Anacreon — yet, thou art Wreathed, as in Athens, ^vith the Cnidian vine. I ope thy pages, Milton, and, behold. Thy spirit meets me in the haunted ground ! — tSubUme and eloquent, as while, of old, ' It flamed and sparkled in its crystal bound ; ' These are yourselves — your life of hfe ! The Wise (Minstrel or Sage) oiit of their books are clay ; But in their books, as from their graves, they rise. Angels — that, side by side, upon our way, Walk with and warn us !

Hark ! the World so loud, And they, the Movers of the World, so still.

What gives this beauty to the grave ? the shroud Scarce wraps the Poet, tlian at once there cease Envy and Hate ! ' Nine cities claim him dead. Through which the li\4ng Homer begged his bread ! ' And what the charm that can such health distil From withered leaves — oft poisons in their bloom "/ We call some books immoral ! Do they live ?

24 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

If so, believe me, Time hath made them pure.

In Books, the veriest wicked rest in j)eace —

God wills that nothing evil shall endure ;

The grosser parts fly off and leave the whole,

As the dust leaves the disembodied soul !

Come from thy niche, Lucretius ! Thou didst give

Man the black creed of Nothing in the tomb !

Well, when we read thee, does the dogma taint ?

No ; with a listless eye we pass it o'er,

And linger only on the hues that paint

The Poet's spirit lovelier than his lore.

None learn from thee to cavil with their God ;

None commune with thy genius to depart

Without a loftier instinct of the heart.

Thou mak'st no Atheist — thou but mak'st the mind

Richer in gifts which Atheists best confute —

Fancy and Thought ! 'Tis these that from the sod

Lift us ! The life which soars above the brute

Ever and mightiest, breathes from a great Poet's lute !

Lo ! that grim Merriment of Hatred ; — bom

Of him, — the Master-Mocker of mankind,

Beside the grin of wiiose mahgnant spleen

Voltaire's gay sarcasm seems a smile serene, —

Do we not place it in our children's hands,

Leading young Hope through Lemuel's fabled lands '. —

God's and man's libel in that foul "Vahoo ! —

Well, and what mischief can the libel do ':

0 impotence of Genius to belie

Its glorious task — its mission from the sky !

Swift AVTote this book to wreak a ribald scorn

On aught the Man should love or Priest should mourn —

And lo ! the book, from all its ends beguiled,

A harmless Avonder to some happj' child !

IV

AH books grow homilies by time ; they are Temples, at once, and Landmarks. In them, we Who hut for them, upon that inch of ground We call ' The Present ', from the cell could see No dayhght trembhng on the dungeon bar, Turn, as we list, the globe's great axle round.

USEFUL AND MIGHTY THINGS 25

And feel the Near less household than the Far ! Traverse all space, and number every star. There is no Past, so long as Books shall live ! A disinterred Pompeii wakes again For him who seeks j^ou well ; lost cities give Up their untarnished wonders, and the reign Of Jove revives and Saturn : — at our will Rise dome and to^^er on Delphi's sacred hill ; Bloom Cimon's trees in Academe ; — along Leucadia's headland, sighs the Lesbian's song ; With Egypt's Queen once more we sail the Nile, And learn how worlds are bartered for a smile : — Rise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming o'er. Ope but that page — lo, Babylon once more !

V

Ye make the Past our heritage and home : And is this all ? No ; by each prophet sage — No ; by the herald souls that Greece and Rome Sent forth, like hymns, to greet the Morning Star That rose on Bethlehem — by thy golden page. Melodious Plato — by thy solemn dreams. World-wearied Tull}^ ! — and, above ye all. By Tins, the Everlasting Monument Of God to mortals, on wdiose front the beams Flash glory -breathing day — our lights ye are To the dark Bourne beyond ; in you are sent The types of Truths whose life is The To -Come ; In you soars up the Adam from the fall ; In you the Future as the Past is given — Even in our death ye bid us hail our birth ; — Unfold these pages, and behold the Heaven, Without one gravestone left upon the Earth.

E. G. E. L. Bulwer-Lytton, Lord Lytton.

USEFUL AND MIGHTY THINGS

Except a living man, there is nothing more wonderful tlian a book ! — a message to us from the dead — from human souls whom we never saw, who lived, perhaps, thousands of miles away ; and yet those, on those little sheets of paper, speak to us, amuse us, vivify us, teach us.

26 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

comfort us, open their hearts to us as brothers. ... I say we ought to reverence books, to look at them as useful and mighty things. If they are good and true, whether they are about religion or politics, farming, trade, or medicine, they are the message of Christ, the maker of all things, the teacher of all truth, which He has put into the heart of some man to speak, that he may tell us what is good for our spirits, for our bodies, and -for our country. — C. Kingsley. Village Sermons : On Books.

AN EXTRAORDINARY DELIGHT TO STUDY

To most kind of men it is an extraordinary deligiit to study. For what a world of books offers itself, in all subjects, arts, and sciences, to the sweet content and capacity of the reader ! . . . What vast tomes are extant in law, physic, and divinity, for profit, pleasure, practice, specula- tion, in verse or j)rose, &c. ! their names alone are the subject of whole volumes ; we have thousands of authors of all sorts, many great libraries full well furnished, like so many dishes of meat, served out for several palates ; and he is a very block that is affected with none of them. — R. Burton. The Anatomy of Melancholy.

SWEET AND HAPPY HOURS

BoRNWELL. Learning is an addition beyond Nobility of birth ; honour of blood Without the ornament of knowledge is A glorious ignorance.

Frederick. I never knew more sweet and happy hours Tlian I employed upon my books.

J. Shtrley. The Lady of Pleasure.

THE PROUDER PLEASURES OF THE MIND

Books camiot alwa^-s please, however good ; Minds are not ever craving for their food ; But sleej) will soon the weary soul prepare For cares to-morrow that were this day's care : For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past. And formal feasts that \nll for ever last.

THE TASTE FOB BEADING 27

' But then from study will no comforts rise ? ' — Yes ! such as studious minds alone can prize ; Comforts, yea ! — joys ineffable they find, Who seek the prouder pleasures of the mind : The soul, collected in those happy hours, Then makes her efforts, then enjoys her powers ; And in those seasons feels herself repaid. For labours past and honours long dela3''d.

No ! 'tis not worldly gain, although by chance The sons of learning may to wealth advance ; Nor station high, though in some favouring hour The sons of learning may arrive at power ; Nor is it glory, though the public voice Of honest praise ^^^ll make the heart rejoice : But 'tis the mind's own feelings give the joy, Pleasures she gathers in her own employ — Pleasures that gain or praise camiot bestow, Yet can dilate and raise them when they flow.

G. Crabbe. The Borough.

A TASTE TO BE PRAYED FOR

If 1 were to pray for a taste which should stand me in stead under ever^^ varietj^ of circumstances, and be a source of happiness and cheerfulness to me through life, and a shield against its ills, however things might go amiss, and the world froA\ii upon me, it would be a taste for reading. I speak of it of course onty as a worldly advantage, and not in the slightest degree as superseding or derogating from the higher office and surer and stronger panoply of religious principles — but as a taste, an instrument and a mode of pleasurable gratification. Give a man this taste, and the means of gratifying it, and you can hardly fail of making a happy man. unless, indeed, you put into his hands a most perverse selection of books. You place him in contact with the best society in every period of history — with the wisest, the Avittiest — with the tenderest, tlie bravest, and the purest characters Avho have adorned humanity. You make him a denizen of all nations — a contemporar\' of all ages. The world has been created for him. — JSiR J. Herschel. Address to the Subscribers to the Windsor Public Library.

28 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

MORE THAN MEAT, DRINK, AND CLOTHING

1 SHOULD like you to see tlie additional book-room that we have fitted up, and in which I am now writing. ... It would please you to see such a display of literary wealth, \vhich is at once the pride of my eye, and the joy of my heart, and the food of my mind ; indeed, more than metaphorically, meat, drink, and clotliing for me and mine. I verily believe that no one in my station was ever so rich before, and I am very sure that no one in any station had ever a more thorough enjoyment of riches of any kind, or in any way. It is more delightful for me to live with books than with men, even with all the relish that I have for such society as is worth having. — R. vSouthey (Letter to G. C. Bedford).

THE BOOK THE HIGHEST DELIGHT

In the highest civilization the book is still the highest delight. He who has once known its satisfactions is pro- vided with a resource against calamity. Like Plato's disciple who has perceived a truth, ' he is preserved from harm until another period.' In every man's memorj', with the hours when life culminated, are usually associated certain books which met his views. Of a large and powerful class we might ask with confidence, What is the event they most desire V What gift ? What but the book that shall come, which they have sought through all libraries, through all languages, that shall be to their mature eyes Avhat many a tinsel-covered toy pamphlet was to their childhood, and shall speak to the imagination ? Our high respect for a well-read man is praise enough of literature. If we encountered a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he read. We expect a great man to be a good reader ; or in proportion to the spontaneous power should be the assimilating power. And though such are a most difficult and exacting class, they are not less eager. ' He that borrows the aid of an equal understanding,' said Burke, ■ doubles his own ; he that uses that of a superior elevates his own to the stature of that he contemplates.'

We prize books, and they prize them most who are them- selves wise. Our debt to tradition through reading and

OUB DEBT TO A BOOK 29

conversation is so massive, our protest or private addition so rare and insignificant, — and this commonly on the gromid of other reading or hearing, — that, in a large sense, one would say there is no pure originality. All minds quote. — R. W. Emerson. Quotation and Originality.

THE PLEASURE DERIVED FROM BOOKS

It is remarkable, the character of the pleasure \^e derive from the best books. They impress us with the con^action that one nature «Tote, and the same reads. We read tlie verses of one of the great English poets, of Chaucer, of Marvell, of Dryden, with the most modern joy, — with a pleasure, I mean, which is in great part caused by the abstraction of all time from their verses. There is some awe mixed with the joy of our surprise, when this poet, who lived in some past world, two or three hundred years ago, says that Avhich hes close to my own soul, that which I also had wellnigh thought and said. — R. W. Emerson. The American Scholar.

OUR DEBT to A BOOK

Let us not forget the genial miraculous force we have known to proceed from a book. We go musing into the vault of day and night ; no constellation shines, no muse descends, the stars are white points, the roses brick-coloured dust, the frogs pipe, mice peep, and wagons creak along the road. We return to the house and take up Plutarch or Augustine, and read a few sentences or pages, and lo ! the air swims with life ; the front of heaven is full of fiery shapes ; secrets of magnanimity and grandeur invite us on every hand ; life is made up of them. Such is our debt to a book. — R. W. Emerson. Thoughts on Modern Literature.

RICH fare

A natural turn for reading and intellectual pursuits probably preserved me from the moral ship^^Teck, so apt to befall those who are deprived in early life of the paternal pilotage. At the very least, vay books kept me aloof from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon, A\ith their degrading orgies. For the closet associate of Pope and Addison — tlie mind accustomed to the noble, though silent.

30 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

discourse of Shakespeare and Milton — will liardly seek, or put up with, low company and slang. The reading animal will not be content with the brutisli wallowings that satisfy the unlearned pigs of the world.

Later experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow — how powerfully intellectual pursuits can help in keeping the head from crazing, and the heart from breaking, — nay, not to be too grave, how generous mental food can even atone for a meagre diet — ricli fare on the paper for short commons on the cloth.

Poisoned by the malaria of the Dutch marshes, my stomach, for many months, resolutely set itself against fish, flesh, or fowl ; my appetite had no more edge than the German knife placed before me. But, luckily, the mental palate and digestion were still sensible and vigorous ; and whilst I passed untasted every dish at the Rhenish table d'hote, I could yet enjoy my Peregrine Pickle, and the feast -after the mamier of the ancients. There was no yearning towards calf's head a la tortue, or sheep's heart ; but I could still relish Head a la Bnmnen and the Heart of Midlothian.

Still more recently, it was my misfortune, with a tolerable appetite, to be condemned to lenten fare, like Sancho Panza, by my physician — to a diet, in fact, lower than any prescribed by the poor-law commissioners ; all animal food, from a bullock to a rabbit, being stricth' interdicted ; as well as all fluids stronger than that which lays dust, washes pinafores, and waters polyanthus. But ' the feast of reason and the flow of soul ' were still mine. Denied beef, I had Buhver and Cowpev, — forbidden mutton, there was Lamb, — and in lieu of pork, the great Bacon or Hogg.

Then, as to beverage, it was hard, doubtless, for a Christian to set his face like a Turk against the juice of the grape. But, esche\\'ing wine, I had still my Butler ; and in the absence of liquor, all the choice spirits from Tom Bro\nie to Tom Moore.

Thus, though confined, physically, to the drink that droAMis Idttens, I quafted mentallj", not merely the best of our o\\'n home-made, but the rich, racy, sparkling growths of France and Italy, of Germany and Spain — the champagne

RICH FARE 31

of Moliere, and the Monte Pulciano of Boccaccio, the hock of Schiller, and the sherry of Cervantes. Depressed bodily by the fluid that damps everything, I got intellectually elevated with ]\Iilton, a little merry ^\\i\\ S^^ift, or rather jolly with Rabelais, whose Pantagruel, by the way, is quite equal to the best gruel with rum in it.

So far can literature palliate or compensate for gastro- nomical privations. But there are other evils, great and small, in this world, Avhich try the stomach less than the head, the heart, and the temper — bowls that will not roll right — well-laid schemes that will ' gang aglee ' — and ill winds that blow with the pertinacity of the monsoon. Of these. Providence has allotted me a full share ; but still, paradoxical as it may sound, my burden has been greatly lightened by a load of books. The manner of this will be best understood by a feline illustration. Everybody has heard of the two Kilkeimy cats, who devoured each other ; but it is not so generally kno^Aii that they left behind them an orphan kitten, which, true to the breed, began to eat itself up, till it was diverted from the operation by a mouse. Now, the human mind, under vexation, is like that kitten, for it is apt to prey upon itself, unless drawn off by a new object ; and none better for the purpose than a book ; for example, one of Defoe's ; for who, in reading his thrilling History of the Great Plague, would not be reconciled to a fcAV little ones ?

Many, many a dreary, weary hour have I got over — many a gloomy misgiving postponed — many a mental or bodily amioyance forgotten, by help of the tragedies and comedies of our dramatists and novelists ! Many a trouble has been soothed by the still small voice of the moral philosopher — many a dragon-like care charmed to sleep by the sweet song of the poet, for all which I cry incessantly, not aloud, but in my heart. Thanks and honour to the glorious masters of the ^Den, and the great inventors of the l^ress ! Such has been my own experience of the blessing and comfort of literature and intellectual pursuits ; and of the same mind, doubtless, was Sir Humphry Davy, who went for ' consolations in Travel ', not to the inn or the posting house, but to his library and his books. — T. Hood (Letter to the Manchester Athenaeum, 1843).

32 THE EOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

POWER AND GLADNESS

Books written when the soul is at spring-tide, When it is laden like a groaning sky Before a thunder-storm, are power and gladness, And majesty and beauty. They seize the reader As tempests seize a ship, and bear him on With a wild joj'. Some books are drenched sands, On which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps, Like a wrecked argosy. What power in books ! They mingle gloom and splendour, as I've oft, In thunderous sunsets, seen the thunder-piles Seamed wth dull fire and fiercest glory-rents. They aAve me to my knees, as if I stood In presence of a king. They give me tears ; Such glorious tears as Eve's fair daughters shed. When first they clasped a Son of God, aU bright With burning plumes and splendours of the sky, In zoning heaven of their milky arms. How few read books aright ! Most souls are shut By sense from grandeur, as a man who snores Night-capped and wrapt in blankets to the nose Is shut out fi'oni the night, Avhich, like a sea, Breaketh for ever on a strand of stars.

A. Smith. A Life-Drama.

THE COIVEMODITY REAPED OF BOOK

The commerce of books comforts me in age and solaceth me in solitariness. It easeth me of the burthen of a weari- some sloth : and at all times rids me of tedious companies : it abateth the edge of fretting sorrow-, on condition it be not extreme and over-insolent. To divert me from any importunate imagination or insinuating conceit, there is no better way than to have recourse unto books ; ^nth ease they allure me to them, and ^nth facilit}- they remove them all. And though they perceive I neither frequent nor seek tliem, but wanting other more essential, lively, and more natural commodities, they never mutiny or murmur at me ; but still entertain me A\dth one and self-same visage. . . .

The sick man is not to be moaned that hath his health in his sleeve. In the experience and use of this sentence,

NURSE TO TBllTH 33

which is most true, consisteth all the commodity I reap of books. In effect I make no other use of them than those who knoAv them not. I enjoy them, as a miser doth his gold ; to know that I may enjoy them when I list, my mind is settled and satisfied vnih the right of possession. I never travel wdthout books, nor in peace nor in war : yet do I pass many days and months without using them. It shall be anon, say I, or to-morrow, or when I please ; in the meanwhile the time runs away, and passeth without hurting me. For it is wonderful what repose I take, and how I continue in this consideration, that they are at my elbow to delight me when time shall serve ; and in acknow- ledging what assistance they give unto my life. This is the best munition I have found in this human peregrination, and I extremely bewail those men of understanding that want the same. I accept vnXh better will all other kinds of amusements, how sUght soever, forsomuch as this cannot fail me. — Montaigne.

BOOKS IS NURSE TO TRUTH

Condemn the days of elders great or small. And then blur out the course of present time ; Cast one age do^^^l, and so do overthrow all, And burn the books of printed prose or rhyme : Who shall believe he rules, or she doth reign, In time to come, if writers loose their pain ? The pen records time past and present both : Skill brings forth books, and books is nurse to truth. T. Churchyard. Worthiness of Wales,

FOR WISDOM, PIETY, DELIGHT, OR USE

In vain that husbandman his seed doth sow.

If he his crop not in due season mow.

A general sets his army in array

In vain, unless he fight, and win the day.

'Tis virtuous action that must praise bring forth,

Without which slow advice is little worth.

Yet they ^\ho give good covuisel, praise deserve,

Thougli in the active part they cannot serve :

In a tion, learned counsellors their age.

Profession, or disease, forbids to engage.

B. L, A. Q

34 THE BOO K-LO VERBS' ANTHOLOGY

Nor to philosophers is praise denied,

Whose wise instructions after-ages guide ;

Yet vainly most their age in study spend ;

No end of AVTiting books, and to no end :

Beating their brains for strange and hidden things,

Whose knowledge nor delight nor profit brings :

Tliemselves mth doubt both day and night perplex,

No gentle reader please, or teach, but vex.

Books should to one of these four ends conduce

For Avisdom, piety, delight, or use.

What need we gaze upon the spangled sky

Or into matter's hidden causes pry ? . . .

If we were wise these things we should not mind

But more delight in easy matters find. . . .

Learn to live well that thou mayst die so too,

To live and die is all we have to do.

Sir J. Denham. Translation of Mancini.

OF THE ENTERTAINMENT OF BOOKS

The diversions of reading, though they are not always of the strongest kind, yet the}' generally leave a better effect than the grosser satisfactions of sense : for, if they are well chosen, they neither dull the appetite nor strain the capacity. On the contrary, the}' refresh the inclinations, and strengthen the power, and improve under experiment : and, which is best of all, the}' entertain and perfect at the same time ; and convey wisdom and knowledge through pleasure. By read- ing a man does as it were antedate his life, and makes himself contemporary with the ages past. And this way of running up beyond one's nati^rity is much better than Plato's pre-existence ; because here a man knows some- thing of the state and is the ^iser for it ; which he is not in the other.

In conversing with books \\e ma}' choose our company, and disengage without ceremony or exception. Here we are free from the formalities of custom and respect : Ave need not undergo the penance of a dull story from a fop of figure ; but may shake off the haughty, the impertinent, and the vain, at pleasure. Besides, authors, like Avomen, commonly dress AA'hen they make a A'isit. Respect to themseh'es

THE ENTERTAINMENT OF BOOKS 35

makes tliem polish tlieir thoughts, and exert the force of their understanding more than they would or can do in ordinary conversation : so that the reader has as it were the spirit and essence in a narrow compass ; which was dra^v^l off from a much larger proportion of time, labour, and expense. Like an heir, he is born rather than made rich ; and comes into a stock of sense, with little or no trouble of his own. 'Tis true, a fortune in knowledge which descends in this mamier, as well as an inherited estate, is too often neglected and squandered away ; because we do not consider the difficulty in raising it.

Books are a guide in youth, and an entertainment for age. They support us under solitude, and keep us from being a burthen to ourselves. They help us to forget the crossness of men and things ; compose our cares and our passions ; and lay our disappointments asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in their con- versation. However, to be constantly in the wheel has neither pleasure nor improvement in it. A man may as well expect to grow stronger by always eating, as wiser by always reading. Too much overcharges Nature, and turns more into disease than nourishment. 'Tis thought and digestion which makes books serviceable, and gives health and vigour- to the mind. Neither ought Ave to be too implicit or resigning to authorities, but to examine before we assent, and preserve our reason in its just liberties. To walk always upon crutches is the way to lose the use of our limbs. Such an absolute submission keeps us in a perpetual minority, breaks the spirits of the understanding, and lays us open to imposture.

But books well managed afford direction and discovery. They strengthen the organ and enlarge the prospect, and give a more universal insight into things tlian can be learned from unlettered observation. He who depends only upon his own experience has but a few materials to work upon. He is confined to narrow limits both of place and time : and is not fit to draw a large model and to pro- nounce upon business which is complicated and unusual. There seems to be much tlie same difference between a man of mere practice and another of learning as there is between

36 THE BOOK-LOVETIS' ANTHOLOGY

an empiric and a physician. Tlie first may liave a good recipe, or two ; and if diseases and patients were very scarce, and all alike, he might do tolerably well. But if you inquire concerning the causes of distempers, the constitu- tion of human bodies, the danger of symptoms, and the methods of cure, upon which the success of medicine depends, he knows little of the matter. On the other side, to take measures wholly from books, without looking into men and business, is like travelling in a map, where, though countries and cities are well enough distinguished, yet villages and private seats are either overlooked, or. too generally marked for a stranger to find. And therefore he that would be a master must draw by the life, as well as copy from originals, and join theory and experience together. J. Collier. Essays upon several Moral Subjects.

INSTRUCTION OR AMUSEMENT

Books, we are told, propose to instruct or to amuse. Indeed ! However, not to spend any words upon it, I sup- pose you will admit that this wretched antithesis will be of no service to us. . . . For this miserable alternative being once admitted, observe what follows. In which class of books does the Paradise Lost stand ? Among those Avhich instruct or those which amuse ? Now, if a man answers, among tliose which instruct, — he lies : for there is no instruction in it, nor could be in any great poem, according to the meaning which the T^'ord must bear in this distinction, unless it is meant that it should involve its o^^^l antithesis. But if he says, ' No — amongst those which amuse,' — then what a beast must he be to degrade, and in this waj^ what has done the most of any human work to raise and dignif j^ human nature. But the truth is, you see, that the idiot does not a\ ish to degrade it ; on the contrary, he would ^^-il^ngly tell a lie in its favour, if that would be admitted ; but such is the miserable state of slavery to which he has reduced himself by his OAMi puny distinction ; for, as soon as he hops out of one of his little cells he is under a necessit}- of hopping into the other. The true antithesis to knowledge in this case is not pleasure, but power. All, that is literature, seeks to communicate power ; all, that is not literature, to communi- cate knowledge. — T. De Quincey. Letters to a Young Man.

THE PURPOSE OF BOOKS 37

EXERCISE FOR THE MIND From my own Apartment, March 16, 1709

Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body. As by the one health is preserved, strengthened, and in- vigorated ; by the other, virtue (which is the health of the mind) is kept alive, cherished, and confirmed. But as exercise becomes tedious and painful when we make use of it only as the means of health, so reading is apt to grow uneasy and burdensome when we apply ourselves to it only for our improvement in virtue. For this reason the virtue which we gather from a fable or an allegory is like health we get by hunting ; as we are engaged in an agreeable pursuit that draws us on Avith pleasure, and makes us insensible of the fatigues that accompany it. — Sir R. Steele. Taller, 147.

WHY BOOKS WERE INVENTED

Books were invented to take off the odium of immediate superiority and soften the rigour of duties prescribed by the teachers and censors of human kind — setting at least those who are acknowledged wiser than ourselves at a distance. When we recollect, however, that for this very reason they are seldom consulted and little obeyed, how much cause shall his contemporaries have to rejoice that their living Johnson forced them to feel the reproofs due to vice and folly — while Seneca and Tillotson were no longer able to make impression except on our shelves. — T. Percy.

WHY BOOKS ARE READ

It is difficult to enumerate the several motives which procure to books the honour of perusal : spite, vanity, and curiosity, hope and fear, love and hatred, every passion which incites to any other action, serves at one time or another to stimulate a reader.

Some are found to take a celebrated volume into their hands, because they hope to distinguish their penetration by finding faults that have escaped the public ; others eagerly buy it in the first bloom of reputation, that they may join the chorus of praise, and not lag, as FalstafiE terms it, in ' the rearward of the fashion ".

38 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

Some'readpor style, and .some for argument : one has little care about the sentiment, he observes only how it is expressed ; another regards not tlie conclusion, but is diligent to mark how it is inferred ; they read for other purposes than the attainment of xoractical knowledge, and are no more likely to grow wise by an examination of a treatise of moral prudence than an architect to inflame his devotion by considering attentively the proportions of a temple.

Some read that thc}^ may embellish their conversation, or shine in dispute ; some that they may not be detected in ignorance, or Avant the reputation of literary accomplish- ments : but the most general and prevalent reason of study is the impossibility of finding another amusement equally cheap or constant, equally indejiendent of the hour or the weather. He that Avants money to folloAv the chase of pleasure through her yearly circuit, and is left at home Avhen the gay world rolls to Bath or Tunbridge ; he Ashose gout compels him to hear from his chamber the rattle of chariots transporting happier beings to plays and assem- blies, Avill be forced to seek in books a refuge from himself. — S. Johnson. Adventurer, 137.

THE INFLUENCE OF BOOKS

Every person of tolerable education has been consider- ably influenced by the books he has read, and remembers Avith a kind of gratitude se\"eral of those that made Avithout injury the earliest and the strongest impression. It is pleasing at a more advanced period to look again into the earl}^ faA'ourites, though the mature person may Avonder hoAv some of them had once power to absorb his passions, make him retire into a lonely Avood in order to read un- molested, repel the approaches of sleep, or, AAhen it came, infect it Avith A'isions. A capital part of the proposed task would be to recollect the books that haA^e been read with the greatest interest, the periods Avhen thej' AA-ere read, the partiality AA^iich any of them inspired to a particular mode of life, to a study, to a system of opinions, or to a class of human characters ; to note the counteraction of later ones (Avliere Ave liaA'e been sensible of it) to the effect pro-

A CHOICE SOCIETY 39

duced by the former ; and then to endeavour to estimate the whole and ultimate influence.

Considering the multitude of facts, sentiments, and characters, Avhich have been contemplated by a person who has read much, the effect, one would think, must have been very great. Still, however, it is probable that a very small number of books will have the pre-eminence in our mental history. Perhaps your memory will promptly recur to six or ten that have contributed more to your present habits of feeling and thought than all the rest together. — J. Foster. On a Man's Writing Memoirs of Himself.

REMUNERATIVE READING

Cultivate above all things a taste for reading. TJiere is no pleasure so cheap, so innocent, and so remunerative as the real, hearty pleasure and taste for reading. It does not come to every one naturally. Some people take to it naturally, and others do not ; but I advise you to cultivate it, and endeavour to promote it in your minds. In order to do that you should read what amuses you and pleases you. You should not begin with difficult works, because, if you do, you will find the pursuit dry and tiresome. I would even say to you, read novels, read frivolous books, read anything that will amuse you and give you a taste for reading. On this point all persons could put themselves on an equality. Some persons would say they would rather spend their time in society ; but it must be remembered that if they had cultivated a taste for reading beforehand they would be in a position to choose their society, whereas, if they had not, the probabilities were that they would have to mix with people inferior to themselves. — R. Lowe, Lord Sherbrooke. Speech to the Students of the Croydon Science and Art Schools, 1869.

Books bear him up awhile, and make him try To swim with bladders of philosophy.

J. WiLMOT, Earl of Rochester.

A Satire against Mankind.

Books are men of higher stature. And the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear. E. B, Browning. Lady Geraldine's Courtship.

4U THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

THE MOOD FOR BOOKS

How the mood for a book sometimes rushes upon one, either one knows not why, or in consequence, perhaps, of some most trifling suggestion. Yesterdaj^ I was walking at dusk. I came to an old farmhouse ; at the garden gate a vehicle stood waiting, and I saw it A\as our doctor's gig. Having passed, I turned to look back. There was a faint afterglow in the sky beyond the chimneys ; a light twinkled at one of the upper ^vindows. I said to myself, ' Tristram Shandy,'' and hurried home to plunge into a book which I have not opened for I dare say twenty years.

Not long ago, I a^voke one morning and suddenly thought of the Correspondence between Goethe and Schiller ; and so impatient did I become to open the book that I got up an hour earlier than usual. A book worth rising for ; much better worth than old Burton, Avho pulled Joluison out of bed. A book Mliich helps one to forget the idle or venomous chatter going on everywhere about us, and bids us cherish hope for a world ' which has such people in't '.

These volumes I had at hand ; I could reach them down from my shelves at the moment Avhen I hungered for them. But it often happens that the book which comes into my mind could only be procured A\ith trouble and delay ; I breathe regretfully and put aside the thought. All ! the books that one will never read again. The}' gave delight, perchance something more ; they left a perfume in the memory ; but life has passed them by for ever. I have but to muse, and one after another they rise before me. Books gentle and quieting ; books noble and inspiring ; books that well merit to be pored over, not once but many a time. Yet never again shall I hold them in my hand ; the years fly too quickl}^ and are too few. Perhaps when I lie waiting for the end, some of these lost books will come into my wandering thoughts, and I shall remember them as friends to whom I owed a kindness — friends passed upon the Avay. What regi'et in that last farewell! — G. GissiNG. The Private Papers of Henry Byecroft.

THE IMMORTALITY OF BOOKiS 41

BY DIVINE INSPIRATION

Now it is, tliat the minds of men are qualified witli ail manner of discipline, and the old sciences revived, which for many ages were extinct. Now it is, that the learned languages are to their pristine purity restored, viz. Greek, without which a man may be ashamed to account liimself a scholar, Hebrew, Ai'abic, Chaldean, and Latin. Printing likewise is now in use, so elegant and so correct, that better camiot be imagined, although it was found out but in my time by a divine inspiration, as, by a diabolical suggestion on the other side, was the invention of ordnance. All the Avorld is full of knowing men, of most learned schoolmasters, and vast libraries ; and it appears to me as a truth, that neither in Plato's time, nor Cicero's, nor Papinian's, there was ever such conveniency for studying, as we see at this day there is. Nor must any adventure henceforward to come in public, or present himself in company, that hath not been pretty well polished in the shop of Minerva. I see robbers, hangmen, freebooters, tapsters, ostlers, and such like, of the very rubbish of the people, more learned now than the doctors and preachers were in my time. What shall I say i The very women and children have aspired to this praise and celestial manna of good learning. — Rabelais. The Life of Gargantua and of Pantagruel.

PERMANENCE FOR THOUGHT

I SAW a man, who bore in his hands the same instruments as our modern smith's, presenting a vase, which appeared to be made of iron, amidst the acclamations of an assembled multitude engaged in triumphal procession before the altars dignified by the name of Apollo at Delphi ; and I saw in the same place men who carried rolls of papyrus in their hands and wrote upon them with reeds containing ink made from the soot of wood mixed with a solution of glue. ' See,' the genius said, ' an immense change produced in the condition of society by the two arts of which you here see the origin ; the one, that of rendering iron malleable, which is owing to a single individual, an obscure Greek ; the .other, that of making thought permanent in written characters, an art which has gradually arisen from the hieroglyphics which you may observe on yonder pyramids.' — Sir H. Davy. Consolations in Travel.

03

42 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

THE MIRACULOUS ART OF WRITING

Certainly the Art of Writing is the most miraculous of all things man has devised. Odin's Runes were the first form of the work of a Hero ; Books, written words, are still miraculous Runes, the latest form ! In Books lies the soul of the whole Past Time ; the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream. Mighty fleets and armies, harbours and arsenals, vast cities, high-domed, many-engined, — they are precious, great : but what do they become ? Agamemnon, the many Agamemnons, Pericleses, and their Greece ; all is gone now to some ruined fragments, dumb mournful wrecks and blocks : but the Books of Greece ! Tiiere Greece, to every thinker, still very literally lives ; can be called-up again into life. No magic Rune is stranger than a Book. All that Mankind has done, thought, gained, or been : it is lying as in magic preservation in the pages of Books. They are the chosen possession of men. Do not Books still accomplish miracles, as Runes were fabled to do ? They persuade men. Not the wretchedest circulating-library novel, which fooUsh girls thumb and con in remote villages, but will help to regulate the actual practical weddings and households of those foolish girls. So ' Celia ' felt, so ' Clifford ' acted : the foolish Theorem of Life, stamped into those young brains, comes out as a solid Practice one day. Consider whether any Rune in the wildest imagination of mythologist ever did such wonders as, on the actual firm Earth, some Books have done ! What built St. Paul's Cathedral ? Look at the heart of the matter, it was that divme Hebrew Book — the word partly of the man Moses, an outlaw tending his Midianitish herds, four thousand years ago, in the wildernesses of Sinai ! It is the strangest of things, yet nothing is truer. With the art of Writing, of which Printing is a simple, an inevitable, and comparatively insignificant corollary, the true reign of miracles for mankind commenced. It related, with a wondrous new contiguity and perpetual closeness, the Past and Distant with the Present in time and place ; all times and all places with this our actual Here and Now . All things A\ere altered for men ; all modes of important work of men. — T. Carlyle. Heroes and Hero-Worship.

IMPERISHABLE BOOKS 43

BOOKS AS MEMORIALS

In books we find the dead as it were living ; in books we foresee things to come ; in books warUke affairs are metho- dized ; the rights of peace proceed from books. All things are corrupted and decayed with time. Saturn never ceases to devour those whom he generates ; insomuch that tlie glory of the world would be lost in oblivion if God had not provided mortals with a remedy in books. Alexander the ruler of the world ; Julius the invader of the world and of the city, the just who in unity of person assumed the empire in arms and arts ; the faithful Fabricius, the rigid Cato, would at this day have been without a memorial if the aid of books had failed them. Towers are razed to the earth, cities overthrown, triumphal arches mouldered to dust ; nor can the King or Pope be found upon whom the privilege of a lasting name can be conferred more easily than by books. A book made, renders succession to the author : for as long as the book exists, the author remaining d^ai/aTos,immortal, cannot perish. — R.de Bury. Philobiblon.

FASHION IN BOOKS

We commonly see the book that at Christmas lieth bound on the stationer's stall, at Easter to be broken in the Haberdasher's shop, which sith it is the order of proceeding, I am content this winter to have my doings read for a toy, that in summer they may be ready for trash. It is not strange when as the greatest wonder lasteth but nine days, that a new work should not endure but three months. Gentlemen use books, as gentlewomen handle their flowers, who in the morning stick them in their heads, and at night straw them at their heels. Cherries be fulsome when they be through ripe, because they be plenty, and books be stale when they be printed, in that they be common. In my mind Printers and Tailors are bound chiefly to pray for gentlemen, the one hath so many fantasies to print, the other such divers fashions to make, that the pressing iron of the one is never out of the fire, nor the printing press of the other any time lieth still. But a fashion is but a day's wearing, and a book but an hour's reading, which seeing it is so, I am of a shoemaker's mind, who careth not so the

44 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

shoe hold the pkicking on, nor 1, so my labours last the, running over. He that conieth in i)i'int because lie would be kno%Mi, is like the fool that cometh into the market because he would be seen. — J. Lyly. Euphues.

COATS FOR MACKEREL

1 ERECT not here a statue to be set up in the market-place of a town, or in a church, or in any other public place :

Non equidem hoc studeo, jDullatis ut mihi nugis Pagina turgescat. (Pers. Sat. v. 19.)

1 study not my written leaves should grow

Big-sA\oln M'ith bubbled toys, A\hich vain breaths blow.

Secrete loquimur. (Pers. Sat. v. 21.)

We sjDeak alone, Or one to one.

It is for the corner of a library, or to amuse a neighbour, a kinsman, or a friend of mine withal, who by this image may hapjoil}' take pleasure to renew acquaintance and to recon verse with me. . . . Notwithstanding if my posterity be of another mind, I shall have wherewith to be avenged, for they cannot make so little accompt of me, as then I shall do of them. All the commerce I have in this Anth the world is that I borrow the instruments of their A\riting, as more speedy and more easy ; in requital whereof I may perad- venture hinder the melting of some piece of butter in the market or a grocer from selling an ounce of pepper.

Ne toga cordylis et paenula desit olivis (Martial).

Lest fish-fry should a tit gown want, Lest cloaks should be for Olives scant.

Et laxas scombris saepe dabo tunicas (Catullus).

To long-tailed mackerels often I Will side-wide (paper) coats apply.

And if it happen no man read me, have I lost my time to have entertained myself so many idle hours about so pleasing and profitable thoughts ? . . . I have no more made my book than my book hath made me. A book cousub- stantial to his author : of a iDeculiar and fit occupation. A member of my life. Not of an occupation and end strange

BASE USES 45

and foreign, as all other books. . . . Wliat if I lend mine ears somewhat more attentively unto books, sith I but watch if I can filch something from them wheremth to enamel and uphold mine ? I never study to make a book, yet have I somewhat studied, because I had already made it (if to nibble or pinch, by the head or feet, now one author and then another, be in any sort to study), but nothing at all to form my opinions. — Montaigne.

TO HIS BOOK

Thou art a plant sprung up to Avither never. But, like a laurel, to grow green for ever.

Make haste away, and let one be

A friendly patron unto thee ;

Lest rapt from hence, I see thee lie

Tom for tlie use of pasterie ;

Or see thy injured leaves serve well

To make loose gowns for mackerel ;

Or see the grocers, in a trice.

Make hoods of thee to serve out spice.

If hap it must that I must see thee lie

Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly ;

With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,

I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part ;

And having washed thee, close thee in a cliest

With spice ; that done, I'll leave tliee to thy rest.

The bound, almost, now of my book I see ; But yet no end of those therein or me ; Here we begin new life ; while thousands quite Are lost, and theirs, in everlasting night.

Go thou forth, my book, though late

Yet be timely fortunate.

It may cliance good luck may send

Thee a kinsman or a friend

That may liarbour thee, when I

With my fates neglected lie.

If thou know'st not where to dwell,

See, the fire's by. Farewell.

R. Herrick. Hesperidfs.

46 THE BOOK-LOVE ER' ANTHOLOGY

IMMORTALITY IN BOOKS

Since honour from the honourer proceeds,

How well do they deserve, that memorize

And leave in books for all posterities

The names of worthies and their virtuous deeds ;

When all their glorj^ else, like water-weeds

Without their element, presently dies,

And all their greatness quite forgotten lies,

And when and hoAv they flourished no man heeds !

How poor remembrances are statues, tombs.

And other monuments that men erect

To princes, which remain in closed rooms,

Where but a few behold them, in respect

Of books, that to the universal eye

Show how they lived ; the other where they lie !

S. Daniel, enduring monuments We see then how far the monuments of wit and learning are more durable than the monuments of power or of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five hundred years, or more, without the loss of a syllable or letter ; during which time infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities, have been decayed and demolished ? It is not possible to have the true pictures or statues of Cyrus, Alexander, Caesar, no, nor of the kings or great personages of much later years ; for the originals cannot last, and the copies cannot but leese of the life and truth. But the images of men's wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted from the A\Tong of time and capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are thej^ fitly to be called images, because they generate still, and cast their seeds in the minds of others, provoking and causing infinite actions and opinions in succeeding ages. So that if the invention of the shijD was thouglit so noble, which carrieth riches and commodities from place to place, and consociateth the most remote regions in participation of their fruits, how much more are letters to be magnified, which as ships pass through the vast seas of time, and make ages so distant to participate of the wisdom, illuminations, and inventions, the one of the other ? — F. Bacon, Lord Verulam. Of the Advancement of Learning.

KILLING REASON 47

THE STRANGE QUALITY OF BOOKS

Books have that strange quality, that being of the frailest and tenderest matter, they outlast brass, iron and marble ; and though their habitations and walls, by uncivil hands, be many times overthro^^Ti ; and they themselves, by foreign force, be turned prisoners, yet do they often, as their authors, keep their giver's names ; seeming rather to change places and masters than to suffer a full ruin and total Avreck. So, many of the books of Constantinople changed Greece for France and Italy ; and in our time, that famous Library in the Palatinate changed Heidelberg for the Vatican. And this I think no small duty, nor meaner gift and retribution, which I render back again to my benefactor's honest fame, being a greater matter than riches ; riches being momentany and evanishing, scarce possessed by the third heir ; fame immortal, and almost everlasting ; by fame riches is often acquired, seldom fame by riches ; except when it is their good hap to fall in the possession of some generous-minded man. And though a philosopher said of famous men, disdainfully, that they died two deaths, one in their bodies, another, long after, in their names, he must confess, that where other men live but one life, famous men live two. — W. Drtjmmond. Bibliotheca Edinburgena Lectori.

BOOKS ARE NOT DEAD THINGS

I DENY not but that it is of greatest concernment in the Church and CommouAvealth to have a vigilant eye how books demean themselves, as well as men ; and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors : For books are not absolute^ dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as tliat soul was whose progeny they are ; nay, they do preserve, as in a vial, the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I knoAV they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and, being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself ; kills

48 THE nOOK-LOVEnS' ANTHOLOGY

the image of God, as it were, in tlie eye. Many a man lives a burden to tlie earth ; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. 'Tis true no age can restore a life, whereof, perhaps, there is no great loss ; and revolu- tions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for the want of which whole nations fare the Avorse. We should be wary, therefore, what persecution we raise against the living labours of public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books ; since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed, sometimes a martyrdom, and if it extend to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at that ethereal and fifth essence — the breath of reason itself ; slays an immortality rather than a life. — J. Milton, Areopagitica.

SHAKESPEARE IN HEAVEN

BoswELL. ' There is a strange unwillingness to part with life, independent of serious fears as to futurity. A reverend friend of ours (naming him) tells me, that he feels an uneasiness at the thoughts of leaving his house, his study, his books.'

Johnson. ' This is foolish in [Percy ?]. A man

need not be uneasy on these grounds ; for, as he will retain his consciousness, he may say with the philosoplier. Omnia 7nea mecum porto.'

BoswELL. ' True, Sir : we may carrj^ our books in our heads ; but still there is something painful in the thought of leaving for ever what has given us pleasure. I remember, many years ago, when my imagination was warm, and I happened to be in a melancholy mood, it distressed me to think of going into a state of being in which Shakespeare's poetry did not exist. A lady whom I then much admired, a very amiable woman, humom'ed my fancy, and relieved me by saying, " The first tiling you will meet in the other world will be an elegant copy of Shakespeare's works pre- sented to you." '

Dr. Johnson smiled benignantly at this, and did not appear to disapprove of the notion. — J. Boswell. Life of Johnson.

LASTING FOB EVEB 49

THE LIBRARIES OF HEAVEN

I CANNOT tliink the glorious world of mind, Embalmed in books, which I can only see

In patches, though I read my moments blind, Is to be lost to me.

I have a thought that, as we live elsewhere, So Avdll these dear creations of the brain ;

That what I lose unread, I'll find, and there Take up my joy again.

0 then the bliss of blisses, to be freed

From all the wants by which the world is driven ;

With liberty and endless time to read The libraries of Heaven !

R. Leighton.

THE ONLY things THAT LAST FOR EVER

Actions pass away and are forgotten, or are only dis- cernible in their effects ; conquerors, statesmen, and kings live but by their names stamped on the page of history. Hume says rightly that more people think about Virgil and Homer (and that continually) than ever trouble their heads about Caesar or Alexander. In fact, poets are a longer- lived race than heroes : they breathe more of the air of immortality. They survive more entire in their thoughts and acts. We have all that Virgil or Homer did, as much as if we had lived at the same time with them : we can hold their works in our hands, or lay them on our pillows, or put them to our lips. Scarcely a trace of what the others did is left upon the earth, so as to be visible to common eyes. The one, the dead authors, are living men, still breathing and moving in their wTitings. The others, the conquerors of the world, are but the ashes in an urn. The sympathj^ (so to speak) between thought and thought is more intimate and vital than that between thought and action. Thought is linked to thought as flame Idndles into flame : the tribute of admiration to the manes of departed lieroism is like burning incense in a marble monument. Words, ideas, feelings, with the progress of time harden into substances : things, bodies, actions, moulder away, or melt into a sound,

50 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTTJOLOCIY

into tliin air ! — Yet though the schoolmen in the Middle Ages disputed more about the texts of Aristotle than the battle of Arbela, perhaps Alexander's Generals in his life- time admired his pupil as much and liked him better. For not only a man's actions are effaced and vanish wAth. him ; liis \artues and generous qualities die with him also : his intellect only is immortal and bequeathed unimpaired to posterity. Words are the only things that last for ever. — W. Hazlitt. Table Tail.

THE authors' metamorphosis

How pleasant it is to reflect, that all these lovers of books have themselves become books ! Wliat better metamorphosis could Pythagoras have desired ! How Ovid and Horace exulted in anticipating theirs ! And liow the world have justified their exultation ! They had a right to triumph over brass and marble. It is the only visible change which changes no further ; which generates and yet is not destroyed. Consider : mines themselves are exhausted ; cities perish ; kingdoms are swept away, and man weeps with indignation to think that his ovm body is not immortal.

Muoiono le citta, muoiono i regni,

E I'uom d'esser mortal par che si sdegni.

Yet this little body of thought, that lies before me in the shape of a book, has existed thousands of years, nor since the invention of the press can anything short of an universal convulsion of nature abolish it. To a shape like this, so small yet so comprehensive, so slight yet so lasting, so insignificant yet so venerable, turns the mighty activity of Homer, and, so turning, is enabled to live and warm us for ever. To a shape like this turns the placid sage of Aca- demus : to a shape like this the grandeur of Milton, tlie exuberance of Spenser, the pungent elegance of Pope, and the volatility of Prior. In one small room, like the com- pressed spirits of Milton, can be gathered together The assembled souls of all that men held wise.

May I hope to become the meanest of these existences ? This is a question wliich every author who is a lover of

AN ENVIABLE DEATH 51

books asks himself some time in his life ; and which must be pardoned, because it cannot be helped. I know not. I cannot exclaim with the poet,

Oh that my name were numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days.

For my mortal days, few and feeble as the rest of them may be, are of consequence to others. But I should like to remain visible in this shape. The little of myself that pleases myself I could wish to be accounted worth pleasing others. I should like to survive so, were it only for the sake of those who love me in private, knowing as I do what a treasure is the possession of a friend's mind, when he is no more. At all events, nothing while I live and think can deprive me of my value for such treasures. I can help the appreciation of them while I last, and love them till I die ; and perhaps, if fortune turns her face once more in kindness upon me before I go, I may chance, some quiet day, to lay my overheating temples on a book, and so have the death I most envy. — J. H. Leigh Hunt. My Books.

O BLESSED LETTERS

0 BLESSED letters ! that combine in one All ages past, and make one live with all, By you we do confer with who are gone, And the dead-living unto council call ; By you the unborn shall have communion Of what we feel and what doth us l:)efall.

What good is like to tliis, To do worthy the writing, and to ^vrite Wortliy tlie reading, and the world's delight ? S. Daniel. Musophilus.

Though they [philosophers] write contemptu gloriae, yet, as Hieron observes, they will put their names to their books. — R. Burton.

52 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

A LASTTNO LINK OF AGES

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces

That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think ; 'Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses

Instead of speech, may form a lasting link Of ages ; to what straits old Time reduces

Frail man, when paper — even a rag like this.

Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his !

And when his bones are dust, his grave a blank, His station, generation, even his nation,

Become a thing, or nothing, save to rank In chronological commemoration.

Some dull MS. oblivion long has sank,

Or graven stone found in a barrack's station

In digging the foundation of a closet.

May turn his name up, as a rare deposit.

And glory long has made the sages smile ;

'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, \^dnd — Depending more upon the historian's style

Than on the name a person leaves behind : Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoj'le :

The present century was growing blind To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks, Until his late Life by Archdeacon Coxe.

G. Gordon, Lord Byron. Don Juan.

THE VIRTUE OF A TRUE BOOK

Visible and tangible products of the Past, again, I reckon-up to the extent of three : Cities, with their Cabinets and Arsenals ; then tilled Fields, to either or to both of which divisions Roads with their Bridges may belong ; and thirdly — Books. In which third, truly, the last invented, lies a worth far surpassing that of the two others. Won- drous indeed is the virtue of a true Book ! Xot like a dead city of stones, yearly crumbling, yearly needing repair ; more like a tilled field, but then a spiritual field : like a spiritual tree, let me rather say, it stands from year to year, and from age to age (we have Books that already

THE EVERLASTING BONFIRE 53

number some hundred-and-fifty human ages) ; and yearly comes its new produce of leaves (Commentaries, Deductions, Philosophical, Political Systems ; or were it only (Sermons, Pamphlets, Journalistic Essays), every one of which is talismanic and thaumaturgic, for it can persuade men. 0 thou A\"ho art able to "WTite a Book, AA'hich once in the two centuries or oftener there is a man gifted to do, envy not him whom they name Citj^-builder, and inexpressibly pity him whom they name Conqueror or City-burner ! Thou too art a Conqueror and Victor ; but of the true sort, namely over the Devil : thou too hast built ^hat \\i\\ outlast all marble and metal, and be a wonder-bringing City of the IVIind, a Temple and Seminary and Prophetic Mount, whereto all kindreds of the Earth mil pilgrim. — T. Caklyle. Sartor Resartus.

ACTION AND REACTION

Some of the well-puffed fashionable novels of eighteen hundred and twenty-nine hold the pastry of eighteen hundred and thirty ; and others, wliich are now extolled in language almost too high-flo\m for the merits of Don Quixote, will, we have no doubt, line the trunks of eighteen hundred and thirty-one. — Lord Mac aula y. Mr. Robert Montgomery' s Poems.

THE ULTIMATE TEST OF BOOKS

Some of the Histories that our age has produced are books in the truest sense of the word. They illustrate great periods in our own. annals, and in the annals of other countries. They show what a divine discipline has been at work to form men ; they teach us that there is such a discipline at work to form us into men. That is the test to which I have urged that all books must at last be brought ; if they do not bear it, their doom is fixed. They may be light or heavy, the penny sheet or the vast folio ; they may speak of things seen or unseen ; of Science or Ai-t ; of what has been or what is to be ; they maj" amuse us or weary us, flatter us or scorn us ; if they do not assist to make us better and more substantial men, they are only pro\iding fuel for a fixe larger, and more utterly destructive, than that which consumed the Library of the Ptolemies. — F. D. Maurice. On Books.

54 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

BOOKS OF THE HOUR AND OF ALL TIME

All books are divisible into two classes, the books of the hour, and the books of all time. Mark this distinction — it is not one of quality only. It is not merely the bad book that does not last, and the good one that does. It is a dis- tinction of species. There are good books for the hour, and good ones for all time ; bad books for the hour, and bad ones for all time. I must define the two kinds before I go farther. .1

The good book of the hour, then, — I do not speak of the bad ones — is simply the useful or pleasant talk of some person whom you cannot otherwise converse ^\dth, printed for you. Very useful often, telUng you what you need to know ; very pleasant often, as a sensible friend's present talk would be. These bright accomits of travels ; good- humoured and ^\itty discussions of question ; lively or pathetic story-telhng in the form of novel ; firm fact- telhng, by the real agents concerned in the events of passing history ; — aU these books of the hour, multipljdng among us as education becomes more general, are a pecuhar characteristic and possession of the present age : we ought to be entirely thankful for them, and entirely ashamed of om'selves if we make no good use of them. But we make the worst possible use, if we allow them to usurp the place of true books : for, strictly speaking, they are not books at all, but merely letters or newspapers in good print. ... A book is Aviitten, not to multiply the voice merely, not to carry it merely, but to preserve it. The author has something to say whichhe perceives tobe true and useful, or helpfully beautiful. So far as he knows, no one has yet said it ; so far as he knows, no one else can say it. He is bomid to say it, clearly and melo- diously if he may ; clearly, at all events. In the sum of his life he finds this to be the thing, or group of tilings, manifest to him ; — this the piece of true knowledge, or sight, which his share of sunshine and earth has permitted him to seize. He would fain set it down for ever ; engrave it on rock, if he could ; saying, ' This is the best of me ; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved, and hated, hke another ; my life was as the vapoui', and is not ; but this I saw and knew : this, if anything of mine, is worth your

ARISTOCRACY 55

memory.' That is his ' ^\Titing ' ; it is, in his small human way, and with whatever degree of true inspiration is in him, his inscription, or scripture. That is a ' Book '. . . . Now books of this kind have been ^\Titten in all ages by their greatest men : — by great leaders, great statesmen, and great thinkers. These are all at your choice ; and life is short. You have heard as much before ; yet have you measured and mapped out this short life and its possibihties? Do you know, if you read this, that you cannot read that — that what you lose to-day you cannot gain to-morrow ? WiU you go and gossip with your housemaid, or your stable-boy, when you may talk with queens and kings ; or flatter yourselves that it is with any worthy conscious- ness of lyour own claims to respect that you jostle with the common crowd for entree here, and audience there, when all the while this eternal court is open to you, with its society wide as the world, multitudinous as its days, the chosen, and the mighty, of every place and time ? Into that you may enter alwaj^s ; in that you may take fellow- ship and rank according to your wish ; from that, once entered into it, you can never be outcast but by your own fault ; by your aristocracy of companionsliip there, your own inherent aristocracy will be assuredly tested, and the motives with which you strive to take high place in the society of the living, measured, as to all the truth and sincerity that are in them, by the place you desire to take in this company of the Dead. — J. Ruskin. Sesame and Lilies.

WHO WILL BELIEVE MY VERSE

Who will believe my verse in time to come. If it were filled with your most high deserts ? Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb Which hides your life and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would sa}', ' This poet lies ; Such heavenly touches ne'er touched eartlily faces.' So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,

56 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

And your true rights be termed a poet's rage And stretched metre of an antique song :

But were some child of yours alive that time. You should live twice, — in it and in my rhyme.

W. Shakespeare.

IMMORTALITY IN SONG

How many paltry, foolish, painted things,

That now in coaches trouble every street,

Shall be forgotten, whom no poet sings,

Ere they be well \vrapped in their winding-sheet !

Where I to thee eternity shall give.

When nothing else remaineth of these days,

And queens hereafter shall be glad to live

Upon the alms of thy superfluous praise ;

Virgins and matrons reading these my rhymes,

Sliall be so much delighted with thy story,

That they shall grieve they lived not in these times,

To have seen thee, their sex's only glory :

So shalt thou fly above the vulgar throng, Still to survive in my immortal song.

M. Drayton.

ONE DAY I WROTE HER NAME

One day I wrote her name upon the strand. But came the waves and washed it away : Again I wrote it with a second hand. But came the tide and made my pains his prey. ' Vain man,' said she, ' that dost in vain essay A mortal thing so to immortahze ; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wiped out likewise.' ' Not so,' quoth I ; 'let baser things devise To die in dust, but you shall live by fame ; My verse your virtues rare shall eternize. And in the heavens ^vrite your glorious name : Where, whenas Death shall all the world subdue, Our love shall live, and later life renew.'

E. Spenser.

THE MULTIPLICITY OF BOOKS bl

WELL I REMEMBER HOW YOU SMILED

Well I remember how you smiled To see me write your name upon

The soft sea-sand — ' 0 ! what a child ! You think you're writing upon stojie ! '

I have since written what no tide Shall ever wash away, what men

Unborn shall read o'er ocean mde And find lanthe's name again.

W. S. Landor.

the MULTIPLICITY OF BOOKS

Solomon saith truly, Of making many books there is no end, so insatiable is the thirst of men therein ; as also end- less is the desire of many in bujnng and reading them. But we come to our rules.

\. It is a vanity to persuade the world one hath much learning, by getting a great library. As soon shall I believe every one is valiant that hath a well-furnished armoury. I guess good housekeeping by the smoking, not the number of the tumiels, as knowing that many of them, built merely for uniformity, are Avithout chimneys, and more \Wthout fires. Once a dunce void of learning but full of books flouted a libraryless scholar ^dth these words : Salve doctor sine libris. But the next day the scholar coming into this jeerer's stud}', crowded with books ; Salvete libri, saith he, sine doctor e.

2. Feiv books, well selected, are best. Yet, as a certain fool bought all the jDictures that came out, because he might have his choice, such is the vain humour of many men in gather- ing of books : yet when they have done all, they miss their end, it being in the editions of authors as in the fashions of clothes, when a man thinks he hath gotten the latest and newest, x^resently another newer comes out.

3. Some books are only cursorily to be tasted of. Namely, first, voluminous books, the task of a man's life to read them over ; secondly, auxiliar}' books, only to be repaired to on occasions ; thirdly, such as are mere pieces of formality, so that if you look on them, you look through them ; and he that peeps through the casement of the index sees as much

58 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

as if he were in the house. But the laziness of those cannot be excused who perfunctorily pass over authors of conse- quence, and only trade in their tables and contents. These, like city-cheaters, having gotten the names of all country gentlemen, make silly people believe they have long lived in those places where they never were, and flourisli with skill in those authors tliej^ never seriously studied.

4. The genius of the author is commonly discovered in the dedicatory ejnstle. Many place the purest grain in the mouth of the sack for chapmen to handle or buy : and from the dedication one may probably guess at the work, sa\'ing some rare and peculiar exceptions. Thus, when once a gentleman admired how so pithy, learned, and \\itty a dedication was matched to a flat, dull, foolish book ; In truth, said another, they may he well matched together, for I profess they are nothing akin.

5. Proportion an hour's meditation to an hour's reading of a staple author. This makes a man master of his learning, and dispirits the book into the scholar. The king of Sweden never filed his men above six deep in one company, because he would not have them lie in useless clusters in his army, but so that every particular soldier might be draAvn out into service. Books that stand thin on the shelves, yet so as the owner of them can bring forth every one of them into use, are better than far greater libraries. . . .

But what do I, speaking against multiplicity of books in this age, who trespass in this nature myself ? What was a learned man's compliment, may serve for my confession and conclusion : Multi mei similes hoc morho laboranf, ut cum scribere nesciant tamen a scribendo temperare non possint. — T. Fuller. The Holy State and the Profane State.

SUPERFLUOUS BOOKS

I HAVE heard some with deep sighs lament the lost lines of Cicero ; others with as many groans deplore the com- bustion of the library of Alexandria. For my ovn\ part, I think there be too manj' in the world, and could with patience behold the urn and ashes of the Vatican, could I, with a few others, recover the perished leaves of Solomon. I Avould not omit a copy of Enoch's Pillars, had the}' many nearer authors than Josephus, or did not relish somewhat

THE ESTEEM OF AGES 59

of the fable. Some men have AATitten more than others have spoken. Pnieda quotes more authors in one work than are necessary in a whole world. Of those tlu-ee great inventions in Germanj^ there are two which are not w ithout their incommodities, and 'tis disputable whether they exceed not their use and commodities. 'Tis not a melan- choly IJtinam of mine own, but the desires of better heads that there were a general sjoiod ; not to unite the incom- patible differences of religion, but for the benefit of learning, to reduce it as it lay at first, in a few and solid authors ; and to condemn to the fire those swarms and millions of rhapsodies, begotten only to distract and abuse the weaker judgements of scholars, and to maintain the trade and mysterj- of typographers. — Sir T. Broavne. Religio Medici.

MULTIPLICATION IS VEXATION

The reason that books are multiplied, in spite of the general law that beings shall not be multiplied without necessity, is, that books are made from books. A new history of France or Spain is manufactured from several volumes already printed, Avithout adding an3'thing new. All dictionaries are made from dictionaries ; almost all new geographical books are made from other books of geography ; St. Thomas's dream has brought forth two thousand large volumes of divinity ; and the same race of little \vorms that have devoured the parent are now gnawing the children. — Voltaire. Philosophical Dictio7iary : Books.

THE multiplication OF ORIGINALS

The invention of printing has not, perhaps, multiplied books, but only the copies of them ; and if we believe there were six hundred thousand in the library of Ptolemj', we shall hardly pretend to equal it b}^ any of ours, nor, perhaps, by all put together ; I mean so many originals that have lived an}" time, and thereby given testimony to their having been thought worth preser\ing. For the scribblers are infinite, that like mushrooms or flies are bom and die in small circles of time ; Avhereas books, like proverbs, receive their chief value from the stamp and esteem of ages through which they have passed. — Sir W. Temple. Ancient and Modern Learning.

GO THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

THE authors' advantage

The circumstance which gives authors an advantage . . . is this, that they can multiply their originals ; or rather can make copies of their works, to what number they please, which shall be as valuable as the originals themselves. This gives a great author something like a prospect of eternity, but at the same time deprives him of those other advantages which artists meet with. The artist finds greater returns in profit, as the author in fame. What an inestimable price would a Virgil or a Homer, a Cicero or an Aristotle bear, were their works like a statue, a building, or a picture, to be confined only in one place, and made the property of a single person ! — J. Addison. Spectator, 166.

AN IGNORANT AGE HATH MANY BOOKS

It is observed that a corrupt society has many laws ; I know not whether it is not equally true, that an ignorant age has 7nany books. When the treasures of ancient know- ledge lie unexamined, and original authors are neglected and forgotten, compilers and plagiaries are encouraged who give us again what we had before, and grow great by setting before us what our own sloth had hidden from our view. — S. Johnson. Idler, 85.

the diffusion of books and its effect on culture

Nothing can supply the place of books. They are cheering or soothing companions in solitude, illness, affliction. The wealth of both continents would not compensate for the good they impart. Let every man, if possible, gather some good books under his roof, and obtain access for him- self and family to some social library. Almost any luxury should be sacrificed to tli^s.

One of the ver^' interesting features of our times is the multiplication of books, and their distribution through all conditions of society. At a small expense a man can now possess himself of the most precious treasures of English literature. Books, once confined to a few by their costliness, are now accessible to the multitude ; and in this way a change of habits is going on in society, highly favourable

A MISERABLE DISTRACTION 61

to the culture of the people. Instead of depending on casual rumour and loose conversation for most of their knowledge and objects of thought ; instead of forming their judgements in crowds, and receiving their chief excite- ment from the voice of neighbours ; men are now learning to study and reflect alone, to follow out subjects con- tinuously, to determine for themselves what shall engage their minds, and to call to their aid the knowledge, original views, and reasonings of men of all countries and ages ; and the results must be, a deUberateness and independence of judgement, and a thoroughness and extent of information, unknown in former times. The diffusion of these silent teachers, books, through the AA'hole community, is to work greater effects than artillery, machinery, and legislation. Its peaceful agency is to supersede stormy revolutions. The culture, which is to spread, whilst an unspeakable good to the individual, is also to become the stability of nations. — W. E. Channing. Self-Culture.

THE DISTRACTION OF CHOICE

Under our present enormous accumulation of books, I do affirm, that a miserable distraction of choice (whicli is the germ of such a madness) must be very generally incident to the times ; that the symptoms of it are, in fact, very prevalent ; and that one of the chief symptoms is an enormous ' gluttonism ' for books, and for adding language to language ; and in this way it is that literature becomes much more a source of torment than of pleasure. Nay, I will go further, and will say that of many, who escape this disease, some owe their j)rivilege simply to the narroAAness of their minds and the contracted range of their sympathies Avith literature — Avhich enlarged, they AAOuld soon lose it ! others, again, owe it to their situation ; as, for instance, in a country toAA-n, Avhere, books being fcAv, a man can use up all his materials, his appetite is unpalled — and he is grateful for the loan of a MS., &c. : but bring him up to London — shoA\' him the Avagon-loads of unused stores — Avliich he is at liberty to Avork up — tell him that these even are but a trifle, perhaps, to what he may flnd in the libraries of Paris, Dresden, Milan, &c. — of religious houses — of English noblemen, &c. ;

62 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

and til is same man, who came up to London blithe and happy, will leave it pale and sad. You have ruined his peace of mind : a subject which he fancied himself capable of exhausting, he finds to be a labour for centuries : he has no longer the healthy pleasure of feeling himself master of his materials ; he is degraded into their slave. — T. De Quince Y. Letters to a Young Man.

A LIBRARY OF ONE

Were I to name, out of the times gone by. The poets dearest to me, I should say, Pulci for spirits, and a fine, free way ; Chaucer for manners, and close, silent eye ; Milton for classic taste, and harp strung high : Spenser for luxury, and sweet, sylvan play ; Horace for chatting with, from day to day ; Shakespeare for all, but most, society.

But which take with me, could I take but one ? Shakespeare, — as long as I was unoppressed With the world's weight, making sad thoughts intenser ; 'But did I wish, out of the common sun To lay a wounded heart in leafy rest, And dream of things far off and healing, — Spenser.

J. H. Leigh Hunt,

A LIBRARY OF TWELVE

You may get the whole of Sir Thomas Bro^^•ne's works more easily than the HydrotajMa in a single form. . . . If I were confined to a score of English books, this I tliink would be one of them ; nay, probably, it would be one if the selection were cut do^^■n to tAvelve. My libraiy. if reduced to those boundi^, \^'ould consist of Shakespeare. Chaucer, Spenser, and Milton ; Lord Clarendon ; Jackson, Jeremy Taylor, and Soutli ; Isaac Walton, Sidnej^'s Arcadia. Fuller's Church History, and Sir Thomas Browne ; and A\iiat a A\ealthy and well-stored mind would that man have, what an inexhaustible reservoir, ^\hat a Bank of England to dra\\' upon for profitable thoughts and dehghtful associa- tions, who should have fed upon them. — R. Southey (Letter to G. C. Bedford).

OLD AND NEW 03

ANCIENT AND MODERN BOOKS

Whoever converses much among the old books will be something hard to please among the new ; yet these must have their part, too, in the leisure of an idle man, and have, many of them, their beauties as well as their defaults. Those of story, or relations of matter of fact, have a value from their substance as much as from their form, and the variety of events is seldom without entertainment or instruction, how indifferently soever the tale is told. Other sorts of ^vritings have little of esteem but what they receive from the wit, learning, or genius of the authors, and are seldom met with of any excellency, because they do but trace over the paths that have been beaten by the ancients, or comment, critic, and flourish upon them, and are at best but copies after those originals, unless upon subjects never touched by them, such as are all that relate to the different constitutions of religions, laws, or governments in several countries, with all matters of controversy that arise upon them. — Sir W. Temple. Ancient and Modern Learning.

THE battle of THE BOOKS

Immediately the tAvo main bodies withdrew, under their several ensigns, to the farther parts of the library, and there entered into cabals and consults upon the present emergency. The Moderns were in very warm debates upon the choice of their leaders ; and nothing less than the fear impending from their enemies could have kept them from mutinies upon this occasion. The difference was greatest among tlie horse, where every private trooper pretended to the chief command, from Tasso and Milton to Dryden and Wither. The light-horse were commanded by Cowlc}^ and Despreaux. There came the bowmen under their valiant leaders, Descartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes ; whose strength was such that they could shoot their arrows beyond the atmo- sphere, never to fall down again, but turn, like that of Evander, into meteors ; or, like the cannon-ball, into stars. Paracelsus brought a squadron of stinkpot-flingers from the snowy mountains of Rhaetia. There came a vast body of dragoons, of different nations, under the leading of Harvey, their great aga : part armed wnth scythes, the weapons of

fi4 THE BOOK-LOVERS- ANTIJOLOaY

death ; part with lances and long knives, all steeped in poison ; part shot bullets of a most malignant nature, and used white powder, which infallibly killed without report. There came several bodies of heavy-armed foot, all mer- cenaries, under the ensigns of Guiccardini, Davila, Polydore, Virgil, Buchanan, Mariana, Camden, and others. The engineers Ave re commanded by Regiomontanus and Wilkins. The rest was a confused multitude, led by Scotus, Aquinas, and Bellarmine ; of mighty bulk and stature, but with- out either arms, courage, or discipline. In the last place came infinite swarms of calones, a disorderly rout led by L'Estrange ; rogues and ragamuffins, that follow the camp for nothing but the plunder, all Avithout coats to cover them.

The Army of the Ancients was much fewer in number ; Homer led the horse, and Pindar the light -horse ; Euclid was chief engineer ; Plato and Aristotle commanded the bowmen ; Herodotus and Livy the foot ; Hippocrates, the dragoons ; the allies, led hy Vossius and Temple, brought up the rear.

All things violently tending to a decisive battle, Fame, who much frequented, and had a large apartment assigned her in the regal librarj^ fled up straight to Jupiter, to whom she delivered a faithful account of all that passed between the two parties below ; for among the Gods she always tells truth. Jove, in great concern, convokes a council in the Milky Way. The senate assembled, he declares the occasion of convening them ; a bloody battle just impendent between two mighty armies of ancient and modem creatures, called books, wherein the celestial interest was but too deeply concerned. Momus, the patron of the Modems, made an excellent speech in their favour, which was answered by Pallas, the protectress of the Ancients. The assembly was divided in their affections ; ^\\\el\ Jupiter commanded the Book of Fate to be laid before him. Immediately were brought by Mercury three large volumes in folio, containing memoirs of all things past, present, and to come. The clasps were of silver double gilt, the covers of celestial turkey leather, and the paper such as here on earth might almost pass for vellum. Jupiter, having silently read the decree, would communicate the import to none, but presently shut up the book, . . .

THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS G5

Meanwhile Momus, fearing the worst, and calling to mind an ancient prophecy which bore no very good face to his children the Moderns, bent his flight to the region of a malignant deity called Criticism. She dwelt on the top of a snoAvy mountain in Nova Zembla ; there Momus found her extended in her den, upon the spoils of numberless volumes, half devoured. At her right hand sat Ignorance, her father and husband, blind Avith age ; at her left. Pride, her mother, dressing her up in the scraps of paper herself had torn. There was Opinion, her sister, light of foot, hood- Avinked, and headstrong, yet giddy and perpetually turning. About her played her children, Noise and Impudence, Dullness and Vanity, Positiveness, Pedantry, and 111- mamiers. . . . ' Goddess,' said Momus, ' can you sit idly here while our devout worshippers, the Moderns, are this minute entering into a crael battle, and perhaps now lying under the swords of then* enemies ? Who then hereafter will ever sacrifice or build altars to our divinities ? Haste, therefore, to the British Isle, and, if possible, prevent their destruction ; while I make factions among the gods, and gain them over to our party.' . . .

The goddess and her train, having mounted the chariot, which was drawn by tame geese, flew over infinite regions, sliedding her influence in due places, till at length she arrived at her beloved island of Britain ; but in hovering over its metropolis, what blessings did she not let fall upon her seminaries of Gresham and Co vent Garden ! And now she reached the fatal plain of St. James's library, at what time the two armies were upon the point to engage ; where, entering with all her caravan unseen, and landing upon a case of shelves, now desert, but once inhabited by a colony of virtuosos, she stayed awhile to observe the posture of both armies. — J. Swift. The Battle of the Books.

OLD AUTHORS TO READ

Alonso of Aragon Avas wont to say, in commendation of Age, that Age appeared to be best in four things ; Old wood best to burn, old wine to drmk, old friends to trust, and old authors to read. — F. Bacon, Lord Verula.m, Apophthegmes.

B. L. A. D

66 THE BOOK-LOVER,^' ANTHOLOGY

CLASSICUS

Classicus is a man of learning, and well versed in all the best authors of antiquity. He has read them so much that he has entered into their spirit, and can very ingeniously imitate the manner of any of them. All their thoughts are his thoughts, and he can express himself in their language. He is so great a friend to this improvement of the mind that if he lights on a young scholar he never fails to advise him concerning his studies.

Classicus tells his young man he must not think that he has done enough when he has only learnt languages ; but that he must be daily conversant with the best authors, read them again and again, catch their spirit by living with them, and that there is no other way of becoming like them, or of making himself a man of taste and judgement.

How ^vise might Classicus have been and how much good might he have done in the world, if he had but thought as justly of devotion as he does of learning ! . . . The two testaments would not have had so much as a place amongst his books, but that they are both to be had in Greek.

Classicus thinks that he sufficientl}' shows his regard for the holy scriptures when he tells you that he has no othei' book of piety besides them. — W. Law. A serious Call to a devout and holy Life.

THE DEAD ALONE CANONIZED

Tha-T critic must indeed be bold Who pits ncAv authors against old. Only the ancient coin is prized. The dead alone are canonized : What was even Shakespeare until then ? A poet scarce compared with Ben : And Milton in the streets no taller Than sparkhng easy-ambling Waller. Waller now Avalks with rhj'ming cro\\"ds. While Milton sits above the clouds, Above the stars, his fixed abode. And points to men their A\ay to God.

W. S. Landor.

BEFLECTED LIGHT 67

THE CLASSICS

Will nothing but from Greece or Rome Please me ? is nothing good at home ? Yes ; better ; but I look in vain For a Moliere or La Fontaine. Swift in his humour was as strong, But there was gall upon his tongue. Bitters and acids may excite, Yet satisfy not appetite.

W. S. Landor.

THE MOONS OF LITERATURE

Sir, . . . we must read what the world reads at the moment. It has been maintained that this superfoetation, this teeming of the press in modern times, is prejudicial to good literature, because it obliges us to read so much of what is of inferior value, in order to be in the fashion ; so that better works are neglected for want of time, because a man will have more gratification of his vanity in conversation, from having read modern books than from having read the best books of antiquity. But it must be considered, that Ave have now more knowledge generally diffused ; all our ladies read uoaa', which is a great extension. Modern AVTiters are the moons of literature ; they shine with reflected light, with light borrowed from the ancients. Greece appears to me to be the fountain of knowledge ; Rome of elegance. — S. Johnson. (Boswell's Life.)

THE READING OF NEW BOOKS

From Lien Chi Altangi to Fum Hoam, First President of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin, in China

There are numbers in this city \\'\\o live by A\Titing new books ; and yet there are thousands of volumes in every large library unread and forgotten. This, upon my arrival, was one of those contradictions which I was miable to account for. Is it possible, said I, that there should be any demand for new books before those already publislied are read l Can there be so many employed in producing a commodity with which the market is overstocked ; and with goods also better than anv of modern manufacture 1

68 77/ A' BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

What at first view appeared an inconsistency is a proof at once of this people's wisdom and refinement . Even allowing the works of their ancestors better ^\Titten than theirs, yet those of the moderns acquire a real value, by being marked with the impression of the times. Antic^uity has been in the possession of others ; the present is our own : let us first therefore learn to know what belongs to ourselves, and then, if we have leisure, cast our reflections back to the reign of Shonsu, who governed twenty thousand years before the creation of the moon.

The volumes of antiquity, like medals, may very well serve to amuse the curious ; but the works of the moderns, like the current coin of a kingdom, are much better for imme- diate use ; the former are often prized above their intrinsic value, and kept with care, the latter seldom pass for more than they are worth, and are often subject to the merciless hands of sweating critics and chpping compilers : the works of antiquity were ever praised, those of the moderns read ; the treasures of our ancestors have our esteem, and we boast the passion ; those of contemporary genius engage our heart, although we blush to own it. The visits ^\"e pay the former resemble those we pay the great ; tlie ceremony is troublesome, and yet such as ^\'e would not choose to forgo ; our acquaintance with modern books is like sitting \\ith a friend ; our pride is not flattered in the interview, but it gives more internal satisfaction. . . .

In England, Avhere there are as many new books pub- lished as in all the rest of Europe together, a spirit of freedom and reason reigns among the people ; they have been often known to act like fools, they are generally found to think like men. — 0. Goldsmith. Letters from a Citizen of the World.

THE CLASSICS ALWAYS MODERN

In science read, by preference, the newest works ; in litera- ture, the oldest. The classic literature is always modem. New books revive and re-decorate old ideas ; old books suggest and invigorate new ideas. — E. G. E. L. Bulwer- Lytton, Lord Lytton. Caxtoniatui.

OLD FAVOURITES 69

ON READING OLD BOOKS

I HATE to read new books. There are twenty or thirty volumes that I have read over and over again, and these are the only ones that I have any desire ever to read at all. It was a long time before I could bring myself to sit do\ra to the Tales of My Landlord, but now that author's works liave made a considerable addition to my scanty hbrary. . . . Women judge of books as they do of fashions or com- plexions, which are admired only ' in their newest gloss '. That is not my Avay. I am not one of those who trouble the circulating libraries much, or pester the booksellers for mail-coach copies of standard periodical publications. I cannot say that I am gi'eatly addicted to black-letter, but I profess mjself well versed in the marble bindings of Andrew Millar, in the middle of tl\e last century ; nor does my taste revolt at Thurloe's Stale Papers, in russia leather ; or an ample impi'ession of Sir William Temple's Essays, with a portrait after Sir Godfrey Kneller in front. I do not think altogether the Avorse of a book for having survived the author a generation or two. I have more confidence in the dead than the living. . . . When I take up a work that I have read before (the oftener the better), I know what I have to expect. The satisfaction is not lessened by being anticipated. Wlien the entertainment is altogether new, I sit down to it as I should to a strange dish — turn and pick out a bit here and there, and am in doubt what to think of the composition. There is a want of confidence and security to second appetite. New-fangled books are also like made- dishes in this respect, that they are generally little else than hashes and rifaccimentos of what has been served up entire and in a more natural state at other times. Besides, in thus turning to a well-known author, there is not only an assurance that my time Avail not be thrown awaj^ or my palate nauseated with the most insipid or vilest trash, but I shake hands with, and look an old, tried, and valued friend in the face, compare notes, and chat the hours away. It is true, we form dear friendships with such ideal guests — dearer, alas ! and more lasting, than those with our most intimate acquaintance. In reading a book which is an old favourite witli me (say tlie first novel I ever read) I not only have the pleasure of imagination and of a critical relish of

70 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

the work, but the pleasures of memory added to it. It recalls the same feelings and associations which I had in first reading it, and which I can never have again in any other way. Standard productions of this kind are links in the chain of our conscious being. They bind together the different scattered divisions of our personal identity. They are landmarks and guides in our journey through life. They are pegs and loops on which we can hang up, or from which we can take down, at pleasure, the wardrobe of a moral imagination, the relics of our best affections, the tokens and records of our happiest hours. They are ' for thoughts and for remembrance ' ! They are like Fortunatus's Wishing Cap — they give us the best riches — those of Fancy ; and transport us, not over half the globe, but (which is better) over half our lives, at a Avord's notice !

M}' father Shandy solaced himself with Brusca mbille. Give me for this purpose a volume of Peregrine Pickle or Tom Jones. Open either of them anywhere — at the memoirs of Lady Vane, or the adventures at the masquerade with Ladj' Bellaston, or the disputes between Thwackum and Square, or the escape of Moll}' Seagrim, or the incident of Sophia and her muff, or the edifj-ing prolixit}' of her aunt's lecture — and there I find the same delightful, busy, bustling scene as ever, and feel myself the same as when I was first introduced into the midst of it. Nay, sometimes the sight of an odd volume of these good old English authors on a stall, or the name lettered on the back among others on the shelves of a library, answers the purpose, revives the whole train of ideas, and sets ' the puppets dallying '. Twenty years are struck off the list, and lama child again. A sage philosopher, ^\\\o was not a very wise man, said, that he should like very well to be 3'oung again, if he could take his experience along with him. This ingenious person did not seem to be aware, by the gravity of his remark, tliat the great advantage of being 3'oung is to be without this Aveight of experience, which he would fain place upon the shoulders of youth, and which never comes too late with years. Oh ! what a privilege to be able to let this hump, like Christian's burthen, drop from off one's back, and transport oneself, by the help of a little musty duodecimo, to the time when * ignorance A\"as bliss ', and \\hcn wo first got a peep at the

NOVELTY AND ENJOYMENT 71

raree-show of the Avorld, through the glass of fiction — gazing at mankind, as we do at wild beasts in a menagerie, through the bars of their cages — or at curiosities in a museum, that we must not touch ! For myself, not only are the old ideas of the contents of the work brought back to my mind in all their vividness, but the old associations of the faces and persons of those I then knew, as they were in their lifetime — the place where I sat to read the volume, the day when I got it, the feeling of the air, the fields, the sky — return, and all my early impressions with them. This is better to me — those places, those times, those persons, and those feelings that come across me as I retrace the story and devour the page, are to me better far than the wet sheets of the last new novel. — W. Hazlitt. The Plain Speaker.

ON READING NEW BOOKS

I CANNOT understand the rage manifested by the greater part of the Avorld for reading new books. If the public had read all those that have gone before, I can conceive how they should not wish to read the same work twice over ; l)ut when I consider the countless volumes that lie unopened , unregarded, unread, and unthought of, I camiot enter into the pathetic complaints that I hear made that Sir Walter uTites no more — that the press is idle — that Lord Byron is dead. If I have not read a book before, it is, to all intents and purposes, new to me, whether it Avas printed yesterday or three hundred years ago. If it be urged that it has no modem, passing incidents, and is out of date and old- fashioned, then it is so much the newer ; it is farther removed from other works that I have lately read, from the familiar routine of ordinary life, and makes so much more addition to my knowledge. But many people would as soon think of putting on old armour as of taking up a book not published within the last month, or year at the utmost. There is a fashion in reading as well as in dress, which lasts only for the season. One would imagine that books were, like women, the worse for being old ; that they have a pleasure in being read for the first time ; that they open their leaves more cordially ; that the spirit of enjoyment wears out with the spirit of novelty ; and that, after a certain age, it is high time to put them on the shelf. This conceit

72 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

see ins to be followed up in practice. . . . The knowledge which so many other persons have of its contents deadens our curiosity and interest altogether. We set aside the subject as one on which others have made up their minds for us (as if we really could have ideas in their heads), and are quite on the alert for the next new work, teeming hot from the press, which we shall be the first to read, criticize, and pass an opinion on. Oh, delightful ! To cut open the leaves, to inhale the fragrance of the scarcely dry paper, to examine the tj^pe to see who is the printer (whicli is some clue to the value that is set upon the work), to launch out into regions of thought and invention never trod till now, and to explore characters that never met a human eye before — this is a luxury worth sacrificing a diimer-party, or a few hours of a spare morning to. Who, indeed, when the work is critical and full of expectation, A\ould venture to dine out, or to face a coterie of blue-stockings in the evening, without having gone through this ordeal, or at least without hastily turning over a few of the first pages, while dressing, to be able to say that the beginning does not promise much, or to tell the name of the heroine ?

A new work is something in our power : w^e mount the bench, and sit in judgement on it ; we can damn or recom- mend it to others at pleasure, can decry or extol it to the skies, and can give an answer to those who have not yet read it, and expect an account of it ; and thus show our shrewdness and the independence of our taste before the world have had time to form an opinion. If we cannot write ourselves, we become, by busying ourselves about it, a kind of accessories after the fact. — W. Hazlitt. Sketches and Essays.

A PREFERENCE FOR GREAT MODELS

By the by, I observe a point in which your taste and mine differ from each other materially. It is about new publications. I read them unwillingly. You abstain from them with difficulty, and as a matter of duty and self- denial. Their novelty has very little attraction for me ; and in literature I am fond of confining myself to the best company, which consists chiefly of my old acquaintance, with whom i am desirous of bccominsi more intimate ; and

A PRESENT-DAY ADVANTAGE 73

I suspect that nine times out of ten it is more profitable, if not more agreeable, to read an old book over again, than to read a new one for the first time. If I hear of a new poem, for instance, I ask myself first, whether it is superior to Homer, Shakespeare, Ariosto, Virgil, or Racine ; and, in the next place, whether I already have all these authors completely at my fingers' ends. And when both questions have been answered in the negative, I infer that it is better (and, to me, it is certainly pleasanter) to give such time as I have to bestow on the reading of poetry to Homer, Ariosto and Co., and so of other things.

Is it not better to try, at least, to elevate and adorn one's mind, by the constant study and contemplation of the great models, than merely to know of one's own know- ledge that such a book an't worth reading ? — J. W. Ward, Earl of Dudley (Letter to the Bishop of Llandafi) .

THE VALUE OF MODERN BOOKS

The great productions of Athenian and Roman genius are indeed still what they were. But though their positive value is unchanged, their relative value, when compared with the whole mass of mental wealth possessed by man- kind, has been constantly falling. They were the intellectual all of our ancestors. They are but a part of our treasures. Over what tragedy could Lady Jane Grey have wept, over what comedy could she have smiled, if the ancient dramatists had not been in her library ? A modern reader can make shift without Oedipus and Medea, wliile he possesses Othello and Hamlet. If he knows notliing of Pyrgopolynices and Thraso, he is familiar with Bobadil, and Bessus, and Pistol, and Parolles. If he camiot enjoy the delicious irony of Plato, he may find some compensation in that of Pascal. If he is shut out from Nephelococci/gia, he may take refuge in Lilliput . . . We believe that the books which have been written in the languages of Western Europe, during the last two hundred and fifty years — translations from the ancient languages of course included, — are of greater value than all the books which at the be- ginning of that period were extant in the world. — Lord Macaulay. Lord Bacon.

D 3

74 THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

A SORT OF THIRD ESTATE

l^^acli age, it is found, must write its own books ; or, rather, each generation for the next succeeding. The books of an older period will not fit this. Yet hence arises a grave mischief. The sacredness which attaches to the act of creation — the act of thought — is transferred to the record. The poet chanting, was felt to be a divine man : hence- forth the chant is divine also. The writer Avas a just and wise spirit : henceforward it is settled, the book is perfect ; as love of the hero corrupts into worship of his statue. Instajitly, the book becomes noxious : the guide is a t\Tant. The sluggish and perverted mind of the multitude, slow to open to the incursions of Reason, having once so opened, having once received this book, stands upon it, and makes an outcry if it is disparaged. Colleges are built on it. Books are AATitten on it by thinkers, not by Man Thinking ; by men of talent, that is, who start Avrong, Avho set out from accepted dogmas, not from their oaau sight of principles. Meek young men groAv uj:* in libraries, belieA'ing it their duty to accept the vieAvs Avhich Cicero, Avhich Locke, Avhich Bacon, haA^e given, forgetful that Cicero, J^ocke, and Bacon AA^ere only young men in libraries Avhen they AATote these books.

Hence, instead of Man Thinking, Ave have the book-Avorm. Hence, the book-learned class, Avho Aalue books as such ; not as related to nature and the human constitution, but as making a sort of Third Estate A\ith the A\orld and the soul. Hence, the restorers of readings, the emendators. the bibliomaniacs of all degrees.

Books are the best of things, A\'ell used ; abused, among the Avorst. — R. W. Emerson. The American Scholar.

OLD AND NEW BOOKS

Old books, as you aa'cII knoAv, are books of the \\orld's youth, and ncAv books are fruits of its age. Hoav many of all these ancient folios round me are like so many old cupels V The gold has passed out of these long ago, but their pores are full of the dross Avith Avliich it Avas mingled. — 0. W. Holmes. The Professor at the Breakfast-Tahle.

TIME THE CRITIC 75

SECURITY IlSr OLD BOOKS

What a sense of security in an old book which Time has criticized for us ! What a precious feeling of sechision in having a double wall of centuries between us and the heats and clamours of contemporary literature ! How limpid seems the thought, how pure the old wine of scholarship that has been settling for so many generations in those silent crj^ts and Falernian amphorae of the Past ! No other A\Titers speak to us with the authority of those whose ordinary speech was that of our translation of the Scrip- tures ; to no modern is that frank unconsciousness possible Mliich was natural to a period when reviews were not ; and no later style breathes that country charm characteristic of days ere the metropolis drew all literary activity to itself, and the trampling feet of the multitude had banished the lark and the daisy from the fresh privacies of language. Truly, as compared with the present, these old voices seem to come from the morning fields and not the paved thorough- fares of thought. . . .

There are volumes which have the old age of Plato, rich M'ith gathering experience, meditation, and wisdom, which seem to have svicked colour and ripeness from the genial autumns of all the select intelligences that have steeped them in the sunshine of their love and apprecia- tion ; — these quaint freaks of russet tell of Montaigne ; these stripes of crimson fire, of Shakespeare ; this sober gold, of Sir Thomas Browne ; this purpling bloom, of Lamb ; — in such fruits we taste the legendary gardens of Alcinoiis and the orchards of Atlas ; and there are volumes again which can claim only the inglorious senility of Old Parr or older Jenkins, which have outlived their half-dozen of kings to be the prize of showmen and treasuries of the born-to-be-forgotten trifles of a hundred years ago. . . .

There is to us a sacredness in a volume, however dull ; Ave live over again the author's lonely labours and tremulous hopes ; we see him, on his first appearance after parturition, ' as well as could be expected,' a nervous sympathy yet surviving between the late-severed umbilical cord and the wondrous offspring, doubtfully entering the Mermaid, or the Devil Tavern, or the Coffee-house of Will or Button, blushing under the eye of Ben or Dryden or Addison, as if

7G THE BOOK-LOVERS' ANTHOLOGY

the}' must needs know him for the author of the Modeiil Enquiry into the Present State of Dramatique Poetry, or of the Unities briefly considered by Philomusus, of A\hich they have never heard and never will so much as hear the names ; Ave see the country -gentlemen (sole cause of its surviving to our day) who buy it as a book no gentleman's library can be complete Avithout ; we see the spendthrift heir, whose horses and hounds and Pharaonic troops of friends, drowned in a Red Sea of claret, bring it to the hammer, the tall octavo in tree-calf following tbe ancestral oaks of the park. iSuch a volume is sacred to us. But it must be the original foundling of the book-stall, the engraved blazon of some extinct baronetcy within its cover, its leaves enshrining memorial-flowers of some passion smothered while the Stuarts were not yet unkinged, suggestive of the trail of laced ruffles, burnt here and there A\ith ashes from the ]3ipe of some dozing poet, its binding worn and weather-stained, that has felt the inquisitive finger, perhaps, of Malone, or thrilled to the touch of Lamb, doubtful between desire and the odd sixpence. AVhen it comes to a question of reprint- ing we are more choice. The new duodecimo is bald and bare, indeed, compared Avitli its battered prototype that could dra^^ us A\ith a single hair of association. — J. 1'. Lowell. Library of Old Authors.

TO MY BOOK

It will be looked for, book, when some but sec

Thy title. Epigrams, and named of me. Thou shouldst be bold, licentious, full of gall,

Wormwood and sulphur, sharp, and toothed m ithal, Become a petulant thing, hurl ink and Avit

As madmen stones ; not caring whom they hit. Deceive their malice, who could Avish it so ;

And by thy A\'iser temper let men kno\\' Thou art not coA^etous of least self -fame,

Made from the hazard of another's shame : Much less Avith leAAcl, profane, and beastly phrase,

To catch the A\'orld's loose laughter, or A'ain gaze. He that departs Avith his oato honesty

Fov vulgar praise, doth it too dearly buy.

Bes Jonso>,

HARMFUL BOOKS 77

HIS PRAYER FOR ABSOLUTION

For those my unbaptized rhymes, Writ in my wild unhallowed times ; For every sentence, clause, and word. That 's not inlaid with thee, my Lord, Forgive me, God, and blot each line Out of my book that is not thine. But if, 'mongst all, thou findst here one Worthy thy benediction ; That one of all the rest shall be The glory of my work and me.

R. Herrick. Noble Numbers.

BOOKS THAT DO HURT

In our forefathers' time, when papistry, as a standing pool, covered and overflowed all England, few books were read in our tongue, saving certain books of chivalry, as they said for pastime and pleasure ; which, as some say, were made in monasteries by idle monks or wanton canons. As one for example, 'Morte Ai-thur', the whole pleasure of which book standeth in two special points, in open man- slaughter and bold bawdry . . . This is good stuff for wise men to laugh at, or honest men to take pleasure at : yet I know, when God's Bible was banished the court, and ' Morte Arthur ' received into the prince's chamber.

What toys the daily reading of such a book may work in the will of a young gentleman, or a young maid, that liveth wealthily or idly, wise men can judge, and honest men do pity. And yet ten ' Morte Arthurs ' do not the tenth part so much harm, as one of these books made in Italy and translated in England . . . Suffer these books to be read, and they shall soon displace all books of godly learning. — R. Ascham. The Schoolmaster.

BOOKS AND THIEVES

A good book steals the mind from vain pretences. From wicked cogitations and offences ; It makes us know the world's deceiving pleasures, And set our hearts on never-ending treasures.

78 THE mOK-WVEMS' ANTHOLOGY

•So when thieves steal our cattle, coin, or ware,

It makes us see how mutable they are :

Puts us in mind that we should put our trust

Where felon cannot steal or canker rust.

Bad books through eyes and ears do break and enter,

And take possession of the heart's frail centre,

Infecting all the little kingdom man

With all the poisonous mischief that they can,

Till they have robbed and ransacked him of all

Those tilings which men may justly goodness call;

Rob him of virtue and of heavenly grace,

And leave him beggared in a wretched state.

So of our earthly goods,