It is interesting to note that of the several libraries enumerated by

Evelyn three have become, partly or wholly, public property. That of Dr.

John Moore, Bishop of Ely, was purchased after his death by George I.

for £6,000, and presented to the University of Cambridge, where it now

is.[27:B] Evelyn himself was, as will have been gathered, an ardent

book-collector. He began forming a library very early in life, whilst

that of his brother came to him by bequest. At the time of his death he

had a very extensive collection of books at Wotton, which has been

considerably augmented by his successors. In the early part of the

present century William Upcott, of the London Institution, drew up a

complete catalogue. Upcott's appearance on the scene synchronized with

the disappearance of a number of volumes from the Evelyn Library; it has

been suggested that Lady Evelyn presented them to him 'or something of

that sort,' although the circumstance has never been officially

explained. Certain it is that a large number of books formerly in the

possession of the diarist have at times appeared in the auction-room.

The most important which occurred during the last few years are two

beautifully-written MSS., the work of Richard Hoare, one having the

title 'Instructions Oeconomiques,' 1648, with a dedication 'To the

present mistress of my youth, the hopeful companion of my riper years,

and the future nurse of my old age, Mrs. May Evelyn, my deare wife,'

etc. The second was a book of Private Devotions, 1650. Evelyn was also

unfortunate in his lifetime, inasmuch as the Duke of Lauderdale 'came to

my house, under pretence of a visit,' but in reality to borrow 'for a

few days' certain valuable MSS., which this aristocratic thief never

returned. So, too, he lent Burnet a quantity of MS. material for his

'History of the Reformation,' which, like other borrowed books, never

came back. A large number of first editions of the works of J. Evelyn,

together with some books from his library, illustrated with his

autograph notes, occurred in the sale of the library of the late Arthur

Davis, of Deptford and East Farleigh, July, 1857, many of which were

doubtless purloined at some time or other.

[Illustration: _Magdalen College, Oxford._]

Of all the seventeenth-century book-collectors, perhaps the most

interesting is that other diarist, Samuel Pepys. Samuel was not a man of

great learning, but his wit, his knowledge of the world, and his

humanity were unbounded. He welcomed almost anything in the shape of a

book, from a roguish French novel to a treatise on medals, from a loose

Restoration play to a maritime pamphlet, and from lives of the saints to

books on astrology or philosophy. Not a great man, perhaps, but one of

the most delightful and entertaining that one could wish. The

Secretary's 'Diary' is full of allusions to men and events of bookish

interest, and gives frequent illustrations of his amiable passion for

book-collecting. Fortunately, we have not to grope in the dark to get an

accurate portrait of the genial Samuel as a book-collector, for his

entire library is preserved, almost in the same state as he left it, at

Magdalen College, Oxford, 'as curious a medley of the grave and gay' as

any person of catholic tastes could wish for. The library consists of

almost 3,000 volumes, preserved in eleven mahogany bookcases. The books

are all arranged in double rows, the small ones in front being

sufficiently low to permit of the titles of the back row of larger ones

being easily read. The library is a remarkably accurate reflection of

the tastes of the founder. In addition to what is termed ordinary useful

books, there are many rarities, including no less than nine Caxtons, and

several from the press of Wynkyn de Worde and Pynson. The celebrated

collection of ballads, commenced by Selden and continued by Pepys, is

second only in importance to the famous Roxburghe collection now in the

British Museum. The manuscripts of various kinds form a very valuable

part of this celebrated collection.

[Illustration: _Sir Hans Sloane's Monument._]

John Bagford, the biblioclast (1675-1716), also finishes us, like

Evelyn, with a list of book-collectors who were contemporaneous with

him. Besides Bishop Moore, already mentioned, there were Sir Hans

Sloane, Lords Carbery (Duke of Kent), Pembroke, Somers, Sunderland, and

Halifax. Among the commoners who emulated their 'betters' were Messrs.

Huckle, Chichely, Bridges, Walter Clavell, Rawlinson, Slaughter, Topham,

Wanley, Captain Hatton, 'Right Hon. Secretary Harley,' and Dr. Salmon,

whose collection is said to have consisted of 1,700 folios. Edwards, in

his most valuable work on libraries, mentions yet a third list, which is

anonymous, and is apparently almost contemporaneous with Bagford's. The

list is introduced with the remark that 'the laudable emulation which is

daily increasing amongst the nobility of England, vying with each other

in the curiosities and other rich furniture of their respective

libraries, gives cheerful hope of having the long-hidden monuments of

ancient times raised out of their present dust and rubbish,' and then

makes special mention of the libraries of the Duke of Kent, Lords Derby,

Denbigh, Longueville, Willoughby de Broke, Sunderland, Somers, and

Halifax.

When good Mr. Evelyn described Sir Kenelm Digby's library as 'of more

pomp than intrinsic value,' and as 'chiefly consisting of modern poets,

romances, chemical and astrological books,' he did not contemplate the

future possibility of such despised trifles becoming fashionable and in

greater request than the accumulations of the collectors to whom the

classics were daily food. As Edwards has pointed out, the portion which

Digby gave to the Bodleian was in reality the fruit of the researches of

his tutor, Thomas Allen. The portion which was of his own collecting,

and consequently the only portion which accurately mirrored his own

tastes, he took with him to France when driven into exile. When he died

there, it apparently passed into the possession of Digby, Earl of

Bristol, on whose account it was sold in London in 1680, fifteen years

after its owner's death. The catalogue enumerated 3,878 items, of which

69 were manuscripts, the total of the sale being £904 4s.

Among the most famous of the seventeenth-century collectors were the two

brothers Francis, Baron Guilford, Lord Keeper (1637-1685), and Dr. John

North, master of Trinity College (1645-1683). Of these two there are

some very entertaining facts in Roger North's 'Lives of the Norths'

(1742-44). Dr. John North, we are told, 'very early in his career began

to look after books and to lay the foundation of a competent library

. . . buying at one lift a whole set of Greek classics in folio, in best

editions. This sunk his stock [of money] for the time; but afterwards

for many years of his life all that he could (as they say) rap or run

went the same way. But the progress was small, for such a library as

he desired, compared with what the pittance of his stock would

purchase, allowing many years to the gathering, was of desperate

expectation. . . . He courted, as a fond lover, all best editions,

fairest characters, best-bound and preserved. . . . He delighted in the

small editions of the classics by Seb. Gryphius, and divers of his

acquaintance, meeting with any of them, bought and brought them to him,

which he accepted as choice presents, although, perhaps, he had one or

two of them before. . . . His soul was never so staked down as in an old

bookseller's shop. . . . He was for the most part his own factor, and

seldom or never bought by commission, which made him lose time in

turning over vast numbers of books, and he was very hardly pleased at

last. I have borne him company in shops for many hours together, and,

minding him of the time, he hath made a dozen proffers before he would

quit. By this care and industry, at length he made himself master of a

very considerable library, wherein the choicest collection was Greek.'

At his death the collection came to his brother, the Lord Keeper.

As with Dr. John North, book-hunting was the consuming passion of the

life of a very different man--Richard Smyth or Smith (of whom there is a

very fine and rare engraving by W. Sherwin), one of the Secondaries or

Under-Sheriffs from 1644 to 1655. Having sufficient wealth, he resigned

his municipal appointment, which was worth £700 a year, in order to

devote himself entirely to book-hunting. Anthony à Wood describes him as

'infinitely curious and inquisitive after books,' and states that 'he

was constantly known every day to walk his rounds amongst the

booksellers' shops (especially in Little Britain).' Richard Chiswell,

the bookseller who drew up a catalogue of Smith's books, which

subsequently came into his possession _en bloc_, tells us that his skill

and experience enabled him 'to make choice of such books that were not

obvious to every man's eye. . . . He lived in times which ministered

peculiar opportunities of meeting with books that were not every day

brought into public light, and few eminent libraries were bought where

he had not the liberty to pick and choose. Hence arose, as that vast

number of his books, so the choiceness and rarity of the greatest part

of them, and that of all kinds, and in all sorts of learning.' This

collection was sold by auction in May, 1682, the catalogue of it

occupying 404 closely-printed pages in large quarto. There were fourteen

Caxtons, 'the aggregate produce' of which was £3 14s. 7d.; the 'Godfrey

of Bulloigne' selling for 18s., 'being K. Edwarde the IVth's owne

booke,' and the 'Booke of Good Manners,' for 2s.; the highest price in

the entire sale being given for Holinshed's 'Chronicle,' 'with the

addition of many sheets that were castrated, being . . . not allowed to

be printed,' £7. Smith left an interesting and valuable obituary list of

certain of his bibliopolic friends (which is reprinted in _Willis'

Current Notes_, February, 1853), one of whom, according to him, was

'buried at St. Bartholomew's, without wine or wafers, only gloves and

rosemary.'

[Illustration: _Little Britain in 1550._]

Dr. Francis Bernard, chief physician to James II., was an indefatigable

book-hunter; being 'a person who collected his books, not for

ostentation or ornament, he seemed no more solicitous about their dress

than his own, and, therefore, you'll find that a gilt back or a large

margin was very seldom an inducement for him to buy. 'Twas sufficient

for him that he had the book.' His library was sold in 1698, and

realized the then enormous sum of £2,000. John Bridges, of Lincoln's

Inn, the historian of Northamptonshire, was a collector who read as well

as bought books; his collection was sold at auction in 1726, when 4,313

lots realized £4,001. Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, was a collector

with comprehensive tastes and almost unlimited means. His collection is

now in the British Museum, and is computed to have numbered about 26,000

volumes, on the binding of only a portion of which he is said to have

expended £18,000, besides a mass of 350,000 pamphlets. Thomas Baker

(1625-1690) bequeathed a portion of his library to St. John's College,

Cambridge, notwithstanding the fact that he was ejected therefrom. He

was an unceasing collector, but his finances were scanty, and, worst of

all, he had to contend with collectors of greater wealth, or

'purse-ability' as Bodley calls it. Writing to Humfrey Wanley, he says:

'I begin to complain of the men of quality who lay out so much for

books, and give such prices that there is nothing to be had for poor

scholars, whereof I have found the effects. When I bid a fair price for

an old book, I am answered, the "quality" will give twice as much, and

so I have done. I have had much ado to pick up a few old books at

tolerable prices, and despair of any more.' About 2,000 of his books

went to St. John's College, and the others were sold by auction, many

bearing the inscription 'Thomas Baker, socius ejectus,' etc. The library

of another collector who, like Baker, had more of the kicks than of the

ha'pence of this life, Thomas Hearne (1678-1735), may be mentioned

briefly in this paragraph, for both were men of great learning. Hearne's

collection was sold in February, 1736, by Osborne the bookseller, 'the

lowest price being marked in each book.' On the title-page of the

catalogue, and beneath a poor portrait of Hearne, is the well-known

couplet:

'Quoth Time to Thomas Hearne,

"Whatever I forget, you learn."'

Humphrey Dyson is another book-collector of this period, and is

described by Hearne as 'a very curious man in collecting books.' The

Wesleys were book-lovers and readers, but have perhaps but little claim

to rank as collectors _pur sang_. However, it is interesting to point

out that Lilly's catalogue for 1863 included a copy of Purcell's

'Orpheus Britannicus,' 1706, with an inscription on the fly-leaf: 'C.

Wesley, junior. The valuable gift of his much-honor'd Father.'

The Restoration poets, like those of the Elizabethan period, had a

sufficiently hard fight to keep themselves in food; books were luxuries

which they could only venture to enjoy at long and uncertain intervals.

Dryden and Congreve, however, appear to have been addicted to the

pleasant pastime.

An exceedingly interesting copy of Spenser's 'Works,' folio, 1679, was

once in the possession of Mr. F. S. Ellis. On the fly-leaf occurred this

note: 'The corrections made in this book are of Mr. Dryden's own

handwriting. J. Tonson.' The volume occurred in an auction, where its

value was not detected. The 'corrections,' Mr. Ellis states, extend

through the whole of the volume, and bear witness to the care and

diligence with which Dryden had studied Spenser's poems. Several of the

notes are in explanation of the text, but for the most part are careful

and curious corrections of the text and press. The pedigree of this

volume is well established by its having in the cover the bookplate of

Thomas Barrett, of Lee, celebrated by Dibdin as a 'bibliomaniacal and

tasteful gentleman.' Though Barrett died in 1757, his library was not

dispersed till a few years since. Izaak Walton was a collector, and took

the wise precaution of writing his autograph in each volume, as the very

interesting score of examples now at Salisbury prove. His friend,

Charles Cotton, of cheerful memory, was much more of a book-collector,

although from the 'Angler' it would seem that his whole library was

contained in his hall window. Like Walton, Cotton wrote his autograph in

most of his books, which occur in the auction-room at irregular

intervals. The extent or variety of the Cotton correction may be

gathered from the following 'epigram' which Sir Aston Cokaine wrote

(1658) 'To my Cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton the Younger':

'D'Avila, Bentivoglio, Guicciardine,

And Machiavil, the subtle Florentine,

In their originals I have read through,

Thanks to your library, and unto you,

The prime historians of later times; at least

In the Italian tongue allow'd the best.

When you have more such books, I pray vouchsafe

Me their perusal, I'll return them safe.

Yet for the courtesy, the recompense

That I can make you will be only thanks.

But you are noble-soul'd, and had much rather

Bestow a benefit than receive a favour.'

[Illustration: _Charles, Third Earl of Sunderland._]

One of the most remarkable collections of books ever made by a private

individual was that known as the Sunderland Library. It was formed, not

only in the short space of twelve years, but at a time when many books,

now of almost priceless value, and scarcely to be had at any price, were

comparatively common, and certainly not costly. Neither money nor pains

was spared, 'and the bibliographical ardour of the founder soon began to

be talked of in the bookshops of the chief cities of Europe.' The

founder, Charles, third Earl of Sunderland, lived at Althorp, his town

house being in Piccadilly, on the site of which the Albany now stands.

At the latter place this library was lodged for several years. In

Macky's 'Journey through England,' 1724, Sunderland House is there

described as being separated from the street of Piccadilly 'by a wall

with large grown trees before the gate. . . . The greatest beauty of

this palace is the library, running from the house into the garden; and

I must say is the finest in Europe, both for the disposition of the

apartments, and of the books. The rooms, divided into five apartments,

are fully 150 feet long, with two stories of windows, and a gallery

runs round the whole in the second story for the taking down books. No

nobleman in any nation hath taken greater care to make his collection

complete, nor does he spare any cost for the most valuable and rare

books. Besides, no bookseller in Europe hath so many editions of the

same book as he, for he hath all, especially of the classicks.' The

founder of this famous library died on April 19, 1722. Evelyn has left a

few very interesting facts concerning this collection. Under the date

March 10, 1695, we read: 'I din'd at the Earl of Sunderland's with Lord

Spencer. My Lord shew'd me his library, now again improv'd by many books

bought at the sale of Sir Charles Scarborough, an eminent physician,

which was the very best collection, especially of mathematical books,

that was I believe in Europe, once design'd for the King's library at

St. James's, but the Queen dying, who was the greate patroness of the

designe, it was let fall, and the books were miserably dissipated.' Four

years later, April, 1699, we have another entry, to the effect that Lord

Spencer purchased 'an incomparable library,' until now the property of

'a very fine scholar, whom from a child I have known,' whose name does

not transpire [? Hadrian Beverland], but in whose library were many

'rare books . . . that were printed at the first invention of that

wonderful art.' In reference to Macky's incidental allusion to the Earl

of Sunderland's indifference to cost in forming his library, Wanley

confirms this. Writing in December, 1721, the diarist observes that the

books in Mr. Freebairn's library 'in general went low, or rather at vile

rates, through a combination of the booksellers against the sale. Yet

some books went for unaccountably high prices, which were bought by Mr.

Vaillant, the bookseller, who had an unlimited commission from the Earl

of Sunderland.' Among the items was an edition of Virgil, printed by

Zarothus _circa_ 1475: 'It was noted that when Mr. Vaillant had bought

the printed Virgil at £46, he huzza'd out aloud, and threw up his hat,

for joy that he had bought it so cheap.' When this famous book-collector

died, Wanley observes that 'by reason of his decease some benefit may

accrue to this library [Lord Oxford's], even in case his relations will

part with none of his books. I mean, _by his raising the price of books

no higher now_; so that, in probability, this commodity may fall in the

market; and any gentleman be permitted to buy an uncommon old book for

less than forty or fifty pounds.' The third son of this famous

book-collector, Charles, fifth Earl of Sunderland, and second Duke of

Marlborough, greatly enlarged the collection formed by his father; and

it was removed to Blenheim probably in 1734. This famous library

remained practically intact until it came under the hammer at Puttick

and Simpson's, occupying fifty-one days in the dispersal at intervals

from December 1, 1881, to March 22, 1883, the total being £55,581 6s. It

is stated that the library originally cost about £30,000.

Dr. David Williams, who from 1688 to the end of his life was minister

of a Presbyterian congregation which met at Hand Alley, Bishopsgate

Street, was a contemporary book-collector and book-hunter. His special

line was theology, and his library, which absorbed that of Dr. Bates,

once Rector of St. Dunstan's-in-the-East, is still preserved intact, and

is now, to a certain degree, a free library. Archbishop Tenison was

another great book-hunter of this period, and his library was preserved

more or less intact until 1861, when it was dispersed at Sotheby's,

under an order of the Charity Commissioners.

The brothers Thomas and Richard Rawlinson were, probably, the most

omnivorous collectors of the earlier part of the last century.

Everything in the shape of a book was welcomed. The former (1681-1725),

whose 'C. & P.' (collated and perfect) appears on the frontispiece,

title-page, or fly-leaf of books, when he lived in Gray's Inn, had so

filled his set of four rooms with books that he was obliged to sleep in

the passage. He is said to be the original study for the 158th _Tatler_,

in which 'Tom Folio' and other _soi-disant_ scholars are trounced. 'He

has a greater esteem for Aldus and Elzevir than for Virgil and Horace.'

It is very doubtful whether Addison (who wrote this particular _Tatler_)

really had Thomas Rawlinson in mind, whom he describes as 'a learned

idiot.' Swift has declared that some know books as they do lords; learn

their titles exactly, and then brag of their acquaintance. But neither

description is applicable to Rawlinson, who, for all that, may have

known much more about Aldus or the Elzevirs than about Virgil or Horace.

With a pretty taste for epithets, in which our forefathers sometimes

indulged, Hearne has defended his friend from Addison's sarcasms by

declaring that the mistake could only have been made by a 'shallow

buffoon.' That Rawlinson was a bibliomaniac there can be no question,

for if he had a score copies of one book, he would purchase another for

the mere gratification of possessing it. When he removed to the large

mansion in Aldersgate Street, which had been the palace of the Bishops

of London, and which he shared with his brother, 'the books still

continued to be better lodged than their owner.' He died, at the

comparatively early age of forty-four, as he had lived, among dust and

cobwebs, 'in his bundles, piles and bulwarks of paper.' The catalogue of

his huge mass of books was divided into nine parts; the sale of the MSS.

alone occupied sixteen days. Richard Rawlinson (died 1755) survived his

brother thirty years, and continued to collect books with all his

brother's enthusiasm, but without his sheer book-greed. His MSS. are at

Oxford, and the extent and richness of his accumulations may be gathered

from the fact that the collector laid nearly thirty libraries under

contribution. His printed books were sold in 1756 by Samuel Baker (now

Sotheby's), the sale occupying forty-nine days, and the total amounting

to £1,155 1s.; a second sale included 20,000 pamphlets, and a third sale

consisted of prints.

[Illustration: _London House, Aldersgate Street, 1808._]

The Book-Hunter in London Historical and Other Studies of Collectors and Collecting · 第 4 / 26 段