was chief librarian of the Ste. GENEVIEVE COLLECTION; and St. Léger
attached himself with ardour and affection to the society and instructions
of his Principal. He became joint SECOND LIBRARIAN in 1759; when Pingré,
eminent for astronomy, departing for India to observe the transit of Venus
over the sun's disk, St. Léger was appointed to succeed him as CHIEF--and
kept the place till the year 1772. These twelve years were always
considered by St. Léger as the happiest and most profitable of his life.
During this period he lent a helping hand in abridging the _Journal de
Trevoux_. In September, 1764, Louis XV. laid the foundation-stone, with
great pomp and ceremony, of the new church of Ste. Geneviève. After the
ceremony, he desired to see the library of the old establishment--in which
we have both been so long tarrying. Mercier spread all the more ancient and
curious books upon the table, to catch the eye of the monarch: who, with
sundry Lords of the bed-chamber, and his _own_ librarian BIGNON, examined
them with great attention, and received from Mercier certain information
respecting their relative value, and rarity. Every now and then Louis
turned round, and said to Bignon, "Bignon, have I got that book in my
library?" The royal librarian ... answered not a word--but hiding himself
behind CHOISEUL, the prime minister, seemed to avoid the sight of his
master. Mercier, however, had the courage and honesty to reply, "No, Sire,
that book is _not_ in your library." The king spent about an hour in
examining the books, chatting with the librarian, (Mercier) and informing
himself on those points in which he was ignorant. It was during this
conversation, that the noble spirit of Mercier was manifested. The building
of the library of St. Victor was in a very crazy state: it was necessary to
repair it, but the public treasury could not support that expense. "I will
tell your Majesty, (said Mercier) how this may be managed without costing
you a single crown. The headship of the Abbey of St. Victor is vacant: name
a new Abbot; upon condition, each year, of his ceding a portion of his
revenue to the reparation of the Library." If the king had had one spark of
generous feeling, he would have replied by naming Mercier to the abbey in
question, and by enjoining the strict fulfilment of his own proposition.
But it was not so. Yet the scheme was carried into effect, although others
had the glory of it. However, the king had not forgotten Mercier, nor the
bibliographical lesson which he had received in the library of Ste.
Geneviève. One of these lessons consisted in having the distinctive marks
pointed out of the famous _Bible of Sixtus V_. published in 1590. A short
time after, on returning from mass, along the great gallery of Versailles,
Louis saw the head librarian of Ste. Geneviève among the spectators.. and
turning to his prime minister, exclaimed "Choiseul, how can one distinguish
the _true_ Bible of Sixtus V.?" "Sire, (replied the unsuspecting minister)
I never was acquainted with that book." Then, addressing himself to
Mercier, the king repeated to him--without the least hesitation or
inaccuracy--the lesson which he had learnt in the library of Ste.
Geneviève. There are few stories, I apprehend, which redound so much to
this king's credit.
Louis gave yet more substantial proofs of his respect for his
bibliographical master, by appointing him, at the age of thirty-two, to the
headship of the abbey of _St. Léger de Soissons_--and hence our hero
derives his name. In 1772 Mercier surrendered the Ste. Geneviève library to
Pingré, on his return from abroad--and in the privacy of his own society,
set about composing his celebrated _Supplément à l'Histoire de l'Imprimerie
par Prosper Marchand_--of which the second edition, in 1775, is not only
more copious but more correct. The Abbé Rive, who loved to fasten his teeth
in every thing that had credit with the world, endeavoured to shake the
reputation of this performance.. but in vain. Mercier now travelled abroad;
was received every where with banqueting and caresses; a distinction due to
his bibliographical merits--and was particularly made welcome by Meerman
and Crevenna. M. Ochéda, Earl Spencer's late librarian--and formerly
librarian to Crevenna--has often told me how pleased he used to be with
Mercier's society and conversation during his visit to Crevenna. On his
return, Mercier continued his work, too long suspended, upon the LATIN
POETS OF THE MIDDLE AGE. His object was, to give a brief biography of each;
an analysis of their works, with little brilliant extracts and piquant
anecdotes; traits of history little known; which, say Chardon De La
Rochette and M. Barbier, (who have read a great part of the original MS.)
"are as amusing as they are instructive."
But the Revolution was now fast approaching, and the meek spirit of Mercier
could ill sustain the shock of such a frightful calamity. Besides, he loved
his country yet dearer than his books. His property became involved: his
income regularly diminished; and even his privacy was invaded. In 1792 a
decree passed the convention for issuing a "Commission for the examination
of monuments." Mercier was appointed one of the thirty-three members of
which the commission was composed, and the famous Barrère was also of the
number. Barrère, fertile in projects however visionary and destructive,
proposed to Mercier, as a _bright thought_, "to make a short extract from
every book in the national library: to have these extracts superbly printed
by Didot;--and to ... BURN ALL THE BOOKS FROM WHICH THEY WERE TAKEN!" It
never occurred to this revolutionising idiot that there might be a
_thousand_ copies of the _same work_, and that some hundreds of these
copies might be OUT of the national library! Of course, Mercier laughed at
the project, and made the projector ashamed of it.[98] Robespierre, rather
fiend than man, now ruled the destinies of France. On the 7th of July,
1794, Mercier happened to be passing along the streets when he saw
_sixty-seven human beings_ about to undergo the butchery of the GUILLOTINE.
Every avenue was crowded by spectators--who were hurrying towards the
horrid spectacle. Mercier was carried along by the torrent; but, having
just strength enough to raise his head, he looked up ... and beheld his old
and intimate friend the ex-abbé ROGER ... in the number of DEVOTED VICTIMS!
That sight cost him his life. A sudden horror ... followed by alternate
shiverings, and flushings of heat ... immediately seized him. A cold
perspiration hung upon his brow. He was carried into the house of a
stranger. His utterance became feeble and indistinct, and it seemed as if
the hand of death were already upon him.
Yet he rallied awhile. His friends came to soothe him. Hopes were
entertained of a rapid and perfect recovery. He even made a few little
visits to his friends in the vicinity of Paris. But ... his fine full
figure gradually shrunk: the colour as gradually deserted his cheek--and
his eye sensibly lacked that lustre which it used to shed upon all around.
His limbs became feeble, and his step was both tremulous and slow. He
lingered five years ... and died at ten at night, on the 13th of May 1799,
just upon the completion of his jubilee of his bibliographical toil. What
he left behind, as annotations, both in separate papers, and on the margins
of books, is prodigious. M. Barbier shewed me his projected _third_ edition
of the _Supplément to Marchand_, and a copy of the _Bibliothèque Françoise
of De La Croix du Maine_, &c. covered, from one end to the other, with
marginal notes by him.[99] That amiable biographer also gave me one of his
little bibliographical notices, as a specimen of his hand writing and of
his manner of pursuing his enquiries.[100]
Such are the feelings, and such the gratifications; connected with a view
of the LIBRARY of STE. GENEVIÈVE. Whenever I visit it, I imagine that the
gentle spirit of MERCIER yet presides there; and that, as it is among the
most ancient, so is it among the most interesting, of BOOK LOCALS in Paris.
Come away with me, now, to a rival collection of books--in the MAZARINE
COLLEGE, or Institute. Of the magnificence of the exterior of this building
I have made mention in a previous letter. My immediate business is with the
interior; and more especially with that portion of it which relates to
_paper_ and _print_. You are to know, however, that this establishment
contains _two Libraries_; one, peculiar to the Institute, and running at
right angles with the room in which the members of that learned body
assemble: the other, belonging to the College, to the left, on entering the
first square--from the principal front.
The latter is the _old_ collection, of the time of Cardinal Mazarin, and
with _that_ I begin. It is deposited chiefly on the first floor; in two
rooms running at right angles with each other: the two, about 140 feet
long. These rooms may be considered very lofty; certainly somewhat more
elevated than those in the Royal Library. The gallery is supported by
slender columns, of polished oak, with Corinthian capitals. The general
appearance is airy and imposing. A huge globe, eight feet in diameter, is
in the centre of the angle where the two rooms meet. The students read in
either apartment: and, as usual, the greatest order and silence prevail.
But not a _Fust and Schoiffher_--nor a _Sweynheym and Pannartz_--nor an
_Ulric Han_--in this lower region ... although they say the collection
contains about 90,000 volumes. What therefore is to be done? The attendant
sees your misery, and approaches: "Que desirez vous, Monsieur?" That
question was balm to my agitated spirits. "Are the old and more curious
books deposited here?" "Be seated, Sir. You shall know in an instant." Away
goes this obliging creature, and pulls a bell by the side of a small door.
In a minute, a gentleman, clothed in black--the true bibliographical
attire--descends. The attendant points to me: we approach each other: "A la
bonne heure--je suis charmé...." You will readily guess the remainder.
"Donnez vous la peine de monter." I followed my guide up a small winding
stair-case, and reached the topmost landing place. A succession of small
rooms--(I think _ten_ in number) lined with the _true_ furniture, strikes
my astonished eye, and makes warm my palpitating heart. "This is
charming"--exclaimed I, to my guide, Monsieur Thiebaut--"this is as it
should be." M. Thieubaut bowed graciously.
The floors are all composed of octagonal, deeply-tinted red, tiles: a
little too highly glazed, as usual; but cool, of a good picturesque tint,
and perfectly harmonising with the backs of the books. The first little
room which you gain, contains a plaster-bust of the late Abbé HOOKE,[101]
who lived sometime in England with the good Cardinal----. His bust faces
another of Palissot. You turn to the right, and obtain the first
foreshortened view of the "ten little chambers" of which I just spoke. I
continued to accompany my guide: when, reaching the _first_ of the last
_three_ rooms, he turned round and bade me remark that these last three
rooms were devoted exclusively to "books printed in the _Fifteenth
Century_: of which they possessed about fifteen hundred." This intelligence
recruited my spirits; and I began to look around with eagerness. But alas!
although the crop was plentiful, a deadly blight had prevailed. In other
words, there was number without choice: quantity rather than quality. Yet I
will not be ill-natured; for, on reaching the third of these rooms, and the
last in the suite, Monsieur Thiebaut placed before me the following select
articles.
BIBLIA LATINA. _Printed by Fust and Schoiffher: Without Date, but supposed
to be in the year 1455 or 1456_. Folio. 2 vols. For the last dozen years of
my life, I had earnestly desired to see this copy: not because I had heard
much of its beauty, but because it is the _identical_ copy which gave rise
to the calling of this impression the MAZARINE BIBLE.[102] Certainly, all
those copies which I had previously seen--and they cannot be fewer than ten
or twelve--were generally superior; nor must this edition be henceforth
designated as "of the very first degree of rarity."
BIBLIA LATINA. _Printed by the Same_, 1462. Folio. 2 vols. A fair, sound,
large copy: UPON VELLUM. The date is printed in red, at the end of each
volume--a variety, which is not always observable. This copy is in red
morocco binding.
BIBLIA ITALICA. _Printed by Vindelin de Spira, Kalend. August. 1471_.
Folio. 2 vols. A fine copy of an extremely rare edition; perhaps the rarest
of all those of the early Italian versions of the Bible. It is in calf
binding, but cropt a little.
LEGENDA SANCTORUM. Italicè. "_Impresse per Maestro Nicolo ienson, &c.
Without Date_. Folio. The author of the version is _Manerbi_: and the
present is the _first impression_ of it. It is executed in double columns,
in the usually delicate style of printing by Jenson: and this volume is
doubtless among the rarer productions of the printer.
SERVIUS IN VIRGILIUM. _Printed by Ulric Han. Without Date_. Folio. This is
a volume of the most unquestionable rarity; and _such_ a copy of it as that
now before me, is of most uncommon occurrence.[103] Can this be surprising,
when I tell you that it once belonged to Henri II. and Diane de Poictiers!
The leaves absolutely talk to you, as you turn them over. Yet why do I find
it in my heart to tell you that, towards the middle, many leaves are
stained at the top of the right margin?! There are also two worm holes
towards the end. But what then? The sun has its spots.
PLAUTUS. 1472. Folio. Editio Princeps. Although _this_ volume came also
from the collection of the _illustrious Pair_ to whom the previous one
belonged, yet is it unworthy of such owners. I suspect it has been cropt in
its second binding. It is stained all through, at top, and the three
introductory leaves are cruelly repellent.
CÆSAR. 1469. Folio. Editio Princeps. A very fine, genuine copy; in the
original binding--such as all Sweynheym and Pannartz's _ought_ to be. It is
tall and broad: but has been unluckily too much written upon.
LACTANTIUS. 1470. _By the same Printers_. Perhaps, upon the whole, the
finest copy of this impression which exists. Yet a love of truth compels me
to observe--only in a very slight sound, approaching to a whisper--that
there are indications of the ravages of the worm, both at the beginning and
end; but very, very trivial. It is bound like the preceding volume; and
measures thirteen inches and nearly three quarters, by about nine inches
and one eighth.
CICERO DE OFFICIIS. 1466. 4to. Second Edition, upon paper; and therefore
rare. But this copy is sadly stained and wormed.
CICERO DE NATURA DEORUM, &c. _Printed by Vindelin de Spiraa_. 1471. Folio.
A fine sound copy, in the original binding.
SILIUS ITALICUS. _Printed by Laver_. 1471. Folio. A good, sound copy; and
among the very rarest books from the press of Laver, in such condition.
CATULLUS, TIBULLUS, ET PROPERTIUS. 1472. Folio. The knowing, in early
classical bibliography, are aware that this _Editio Princeps_ is perhaps to
be considered as only _one_ degree below the first impressions of Lucretius
and Virgil in rarity. The longest life may pass away without an opportunity
of becoming the purchaser of such a treasure. The present is a tall, fair
copy; quite perfect. In red morocco binding.
DANTE. _Printed by Numeister_. 1472. Folio. Considered to be the earliest
impression. This is rather a broad than a tall copy; and not free from
stain and the worm. But it is among the very best copies which I have seen.
* * * * *
It will not be necessary to select more flowers from this choice corner of
the tenth and last room of the upper suite of apartments: nor am I sure
that, upon further investigation, the toil would be attended with any very
productive result. Yet I ought not to omit observing to you that this
Library owes its chief celebrity to the care, skill, and enthusiasm of the
famous _Gabriel Naudé_, the first librarian under the Cardinal its founder.
Of Naudé, you may have before read somewhat in certain publications;[104]
where his praises are set forth with no sparing hand. He was perhaps never
excelled in activity, bibliographical _diplomacy_, or zeal for his master;
and his expressive countenance affords the best index of his ardent mind.
He purchased every where, and of all kinds, of bodies corporate and of
individuals. But you must not imagine that the _Mazarine Library_, as you
now behold it, is precisely of the same dimensions, or contains the same
books, as formerly. If many rare and precious volumes have been disposed
of, or are missing, or lost, many have been also procured. The late
librarian was LUCAS JOSEPH HOOKE, and the present is Mons. PETIT
RADEL.[105] We will descend, therefore, from these quiet and congenial
regions; and passing through the lower rooms, seek the _other_ collection
of books attached to this establishment.
The library, which is more immediately appropriated to the INSTITUTE OF
FRANCE, may consist of 20,000 volumes,[106] and is contained in a long
room--perhaps of one hundred feet--of which the further extremity is
supposed to be _adorned_ by a statue of VOLTAIRE. This statue is raised
within a recess, and the light is thrown upon it from above from a
concealed window. Of all deviations from good taste, this statue exhibits
one of the most palpable. Voltaire, who was as thin as a hurdle, and a mere
bag of bones, is here represented as an almost _naked_ figure, sitting: a
slight mantle over his left arm being the only piece of drapery which the
statue exhibits. The poet is slightly inclining his head to the left,
holding a pen in his right hand. The countenance has neither the fire,
force, nor truth, which Denon's terra-cotta head of the poet seems to
display. The extremities are meagre and offensive. In short, the whole, as
it appears to me, has an air approaching the burlesque. Opposite to this
statue are the colossal busts of LA-GRANGE and MALESHERBES; while those of
PEIRESC and FRANKLIN are nearly of the size of nature. They are all in
white marble. That of Peiresc has considerable expression.
This may be called a collection of _Books of Business_; in other words, of
books of almost every day's reference--which every one may consult. It is
particularly strong in _Antiquities_ and _History_: and for the latter, it
is chiefly indebted to Dom Brial--the living father of French
history[107]--that excellent and able man (who is also one of the
Secretaries of the Institute) having recommended full two-thirds of the
_long sets_ (as they are called) which relate to ancient history. The
written catalogue is contained in fourteen folio volumes, interleaved;
there being generally only four articles written in a page, and those four
always upon the recto of each leaf. This is a good plan: for you may insert
your acquisitions, with the greatest convenience, for a full dozen years to
come. No _printed_ catalogue of either of these libraries, or of those of
the Arsenal and Ste. Geneviève, exists: which I consider to be a
_stain_--much more frightful than that which marks the copy of the
"_Servius in Virgilium_," just before described!
It remains now to make mention of a _third_ Collection of Books--which may
be considered in the light both of a public and a private Library. I mean,
the Collection appropriated more particularly for the _King's private
use_,[108] and which is deposited beneath the long gallery of the Louvre.
Its local is as charming as it is peculiar. You walk by the banks of the
Seine, in a line with the south side of the Louvre, and gain admittance
beneath an archway, which is defended by an iron grating. An attendant, in
the royal livery, opens the door of the library--just after you have
ascended above the entresol. You enquire "whether Monsieur BARBIER, the
chief Librarian, be within?" "Sir, he is never absent. Be pleased to go
straight forward, as far as you can see."[109] What a sight is before me!
Nothing less than _thirteen_ rooms, with a small arched door in the centre,
through which I gaze as if looking through a tube. Each of these rooms is
filled with books; and in one or the other of them are assembled the
several visitors who come to read. The whole is perfectly magical.
Meanwhile the nephew of M. Barbier walks quickly, but softly, from one room
to another, to take down the several volumes enquired after. At length,
having paced along upwards of 200 feet of glazed red tile, and wondering
when this apparently interminable suite of apartments will end, I view my
estimable friend, the HEAD LIBRARIAN deeply occupied in some correction of
Bayle or of Moreri--sitting at the further extremity. His reception of me
is more than kind. It is hearty and enthusiastic.
"Now that I am in this magical region, my good friend, allow me to inspect
the famous PRAYER BOOK of CHARLEMAGNE?"--was my first solicitation to Mons.
Barbier. "Gently,"--said my guide. "You are almost asking to partake of
forbidden fruit. But I suppose you must not be disappointed." This was only
sharpening the edge of my curiosity--for "wherefore this mystery, good M.
Barbier?" "_That_ you may know another time. The book is here: and you
shall immediately inspect it."--was his reply. M. Barbier unlocked the
recess in which it is religiously preserved; took off the crimson velvet in
which it is enveloped; and springing backward only two feet and a half,
exclaimed, on presenting it, "Le voilà--dans toute sa beauté pristine." I
own that I even forgot _Charles the Bald_--and eke his imperial brother
_Lotharius_,[110]--as I gazed upon the contents of it. With these contents
it is now high time that you should be made acquainted.
EVANGELISTARIUM, or PRAYER BOOK--once belonging to CHARLEMAGNE. Folio. The
subject-matter of this most precious book is thus arranged. In the first
place, there are five large illuminations, of the entire size of the page,
which are much discoloured. The first four represent the _Evangelists_:
each sitting upon a cushion, not unlike a bolster. The fifth is the figure
of our SAVIOUR. The back ground is purple: the pillow-like seat, upon which
Christ sits, is scarlet, relieved by white and gold. The upper garment of
the figure is dark green: the lower, purple, bordered in part with gold.
The foot-stool is gold: the book, in the left hand, is red and gold: the
arabesque ornaments, in the border, are blue, red, and gold. The hair of
our Saviour is intended to be flaxen.
The text is in double columns, upon a purple ground, within an arabesque
border of red, purple, yellow, and bluish green. It is uniformly executed
in letters of gold, of which the surface is occasionally rather splendid.
It consists of a series of gospel extracts, for the whole year, amounting
to about two hundred and forty-two. These extracts terminate with "_Et ego
resuscitabo eum in novissimo die. Amen_"
Next comes a Christian Calendar, from the dominical year Dcclxxv. to
Dccxcvii. On casting the eye down these years, and resting it on that of
Dcclxxxi, you observe, in the columns of the opposite leaf, this very
important entry, or memorandum--in the undoubted writing of the time: "_In
isto Anno ivit Dominus_, REX KAROLUS, _ad scm Petrvm et baptisatus est
filius eius_ PIPPINUS _a Domino Apostolico_;" from which I think it is
evident (as is observed in the account of this precious volume in the
_Annales Encyclopédiques_, vol. iii. p. 378) that this very book was
commanded to be written chiefly to perpetuate a notice of the baptism, by
Pope Adrian, of the emperor's son PIPPIN.[111] There is no appearance
whatever of fabrication, in this memorandum. The whole is coeval, and
doubtless of the time when it is professed to have been executed. The last
two pages are occupied by Latin verses, written in a lower-case, cursive
hand; but contemporaneous, and upon a purple ground. From these verses we
learn that the last scribe, or copyist, of the text of this splendid
volume, was one GODESCALE, or GODSCHALCUS, a German. The verses are
reprinted in the _Décades Philosophiques_.
This MS. was given to the _Abbey of St. Servin_, at Toulouse; and it was
religiously preserved there, in a case of massive silver, richly embossed,
till the year 1793; when the silver was stolen, and the book carried off,
with several precious relics of antiquity, by order of the President of the
Administration, (Le Sieur S*****) and thrown into a magazine, in which were
many other vellum MSS. destined ... TO BE BURNT! One's blood curdles at the
narrative. There it lay--- expecting its melancholy fate; till a Monsieur
de Puymaurin, then detained as a prisoner in the magazine, happened to
throw his eye upon the precious volume; and, writing a certain letter about
it, to a certain quarter--(which letter is preserved in the fly leaves, but
of which I was denied the transcription, from motives of delicacy--) an
order was issued by government for the conveyance of the MS. to the
metropolis. This restoration was effected in May 1811.[112] I think you
must admit, that, in every point of view, THIS MS. ranks among the most
interesting and curious, as well as the most ancient, of those in the
several libraries of Paris.
But this is the _only_ piece of antiquity, of the book kind, in the
Library. Of modern performances, I ought to mention a French version of
OSSIAN, in quarto, which was the favourite reading book of the ex-Emperor;
and to which Isabey, at his express command, prefixed a frontispiece after
the design of Gérard. This frontispiece is beautifully and tenderly
executed: a group of heroes, veiled in a mist, forms the back-ground. The
only other modern curiosity, in this way, which I deem it necessary to
notice, is a collection of ORIGINAL DRAWINGS of flowers, in water colours,
by RÉDOUTÉ, upon vellum: in seven folio volumes; and which cost 70,000
francs.[113] Nothing can exceed--and very few efforts of the pencil can
equal--this wonderful performance. Such a collection were reasonable at the
fore-mentioned price.