[Footnote 10: An allusion and pun which occasioned the French
translator of the present work an unlucky blunder: puzzled, no
doubt, by my _facetiously_, he translates "mettant, comme on l'a
_trés-judicieusement_ fait observer, l'entendement humain sous la clef."
The great work and the great author alluded to, having quite escaped
him!]
[Footnote 11: The earliest satire on the mere book-collector is to be
found in Barclay's translation of Brandt's "Ship of Fools," first
printed by Wynkyn de Worde, in 1508. He thus announces his true
position:--
I am the first fool of the whole navie
To keepe the poupe, the helme, and eke the sayle:
For this is my minde, this one pleasure have I,
Of bookes to have greate plentie and apparayle.
Still I am busy bookes assembling,
For to have plenty it is a pleasaunt thing
In my conceyt, and to have them aye in hande:
But what they meane do I not understande.
But yet I have them in great reverence
And honoure, saving them from filth and ordare,
By often brushing and much diligence;
Full goodly bound in pleasaunt coverture,
Of damas, satten, or else of velvet pure:
I keepe them sure, fearing least they should be lost,
For in them is the cunning wherein I me boast.]
[Footnote 12: David Ancillon was born at Metz in 1617. From his earliest
years his devotion to study was so great as to call for the
interposition of his father, to prevent his health being seriously
affected by it; he was described as "intemperately studious." The
Jesuits of Metz gave him the free range of their college library; but
his studies led him to Protestantism, and in 1633 he removed to Geneva,
and devoted himself to the duties of the Reformed Church. Throughout an
honourable life he retained unabated his love of books; and having a
fortune by marriage, he gratified himself in constantly collecting them,
so that he ultimately possessed one of the finest private libraries in
France. For very many years his life passed peaceably and happily amid
his books and his duties, when the revocation of the Edict of Nantes
drove him from his country. His noble library was scattered at
waste-paper prices, "thus in a single day was destroyed the labour,
care, and expense of forty-four years." He died seven years afterwards
at Brandenburg.]