The Book-Hunter
judicious, active, and formidable sportsman in the book-hunting world.
Whenever, from private collections, or the breaking-up of public
institutions, rarities got abroad into the open market, the collectors
of the old country found that they had a resolute competitor to deal
with--almost, it might be said, a desperate one--since he was in a
manner the representative of a nation using powerful efforts to get
possession of a share of the literary treasures of the Old World.
In the case of a book, for instance, of which half-a-dozen copies might
be known to exist, the combatants before the auctioneer would be, on the
one side, many an ambitious collector desiring to belong to the
fortunate circle already in possession of such a treasure; but on the
other side was one on whose exertions depended the question, whether the
book should henceforth be part of the intellectual wealth of a great
empire, and should be accessible for consultation by American scholars
and authors without their requiring to cross the Atlantic. Let us see
how far, by a brief comparison, money has enabled them to triumph over
the difficulties of their position.
It is difficult to know exactly the numerical contents of a library, as
some people count by volumes, and others by the separate works, small or
great; and even if all should consent to count by volumes, the estimate
would not be precise, for in some libraries bundles of tracts and other
small works are massed in plethoric volumes for economy, while in
affluent institutions every collection of leaves put under the command
of a separate title-page is separately bound in cloth, calf, or morocco,
according to its rank. The Imperial Library at Paris is computed to
contain above eight hundred thousand volumes; the Astorian boasts of
approaching a hundred thousand: the next libraries in size in America
are the Harvard, with from eighty thousand to ninety thousand; the
Library of Congress, which has from sixty thousand to seventy thousand;
and the Boston Athenaeum, which has about sixty thousand.
There are many of smaller size. In fact, there is probably no country so
well stocked as the States with libraries of from ten thousand to twenty
thousand volumes,--the evidence that they have bought what was to be
bought, and have done all that a new people can to participate in the
long-hoarded treasures of literature which it is the privilege of the
Old World to possess. I know that, especially in the instance of the
Astorian Library, the selections of books have been made with great
judgment, and that, after the boundaries of the common crowded market
were passed, and individual rarities had to be stalked in distant
hunting-grounds, innate literary value was still held an object more
important than mere abstract rarity, and, as the more worthy quality of
the two, that on which the buying power available to the emissary was
brought to bear.
The zeal and wealth which the citizens of the States have thrown into
the limited field from which a library can be rapidly reaped, are
manifested in the size and value of their private collections. A volume,
called The Private Libraries of New York, by James Wynne, M.D., affords
interesting evidence of this phenomenon. It is printed on large thick
paper, after the most luxurious fashion of our book clubs, apparently
for private distribution. The author states, however, that "the greater
part of the sketches of private libraries to be found in this volume,
were prepared for and published in the Evening Post about two years
since. Their origin is due to a request on the part of Mr Bigelow, one
of the editors of the Post, to the writer, to examine and sketch the
more prominent private collections of books in New York."
Such an undertaking reveals, to us of the old country, a very singular
social condition. With us, the class who may be thus offered up to the
martyrdom of publicity is limited. The owners of great houses and great
collections are doomed to share them with the public, and if they would
frequent their own establishments, must be content to do so in the
capacity of librarians or showmen, for the benefit of their numerous and
uninvited visitors. They generally, with wise resignation, bow to the
sacrifice, and, abandoning all connection with their treasures, dedicate
them to the people--nor, as their affluence is generally sufficient to
surround them with an abundance of other enjoyments, are they an object
of much pity.
But that the privacy of our ordinary wealthy and middle classes should
be invaded in a similar shape, is an idea that could not get abroad
without creating sensations of the most lively horror. They manage these
things differently across the Atlantic, and so here we have "over" fifty
gentlemen's private collections ransacked and anatomised. If _they_ like
it, we have no reason to complain, but rather have occasion to rejoice
in the valuable and interesting result.
It is quite natural that their ways of esteeming a collection should not
be as our ways. There is a story of a Cockney auctioneer, who had a
location in the back settlements to dispose of, advertising that it was
"almost entirely covered with fine old timber." To many there would
appear to be an equal degree of verdant simplicity in mentioning among
the specialties and distinguishing features of a collection--the
Biographia and Encyclopaedia Britannica, Lowndes's Manual, the Quarterly
and Edinburgh Reviews, Boyle, Ducange, Moreri, Dodsley's Annual
Register, Watt's Bibliotheca, and Diodorus Siculus.
The statement that there is in Dr Francis's collection a "complete set
of the Recueil des Causes Celebres, collected by Maurice Mejan, in
eighteen volumes--a scarce and valuable work"--would throw any of our
black-letter knight-errants into convulsions of laughter. There are also
some instances of perhaps not unnatural confusion between one merely
local British celebrity and another, as where it is set forth that in Mr
Noyes's collection "there is a fine copy of Sir Robert Walpole's works,
in five large quarto volumes, embellished with plates." But under all
this inexperience of the ways of the craft as it is cultivated among us,
and unconsciousness of such small parochial distinctions as may hold
between Sir Robert Walpole, our Prime Minister, and Horace Walpole, the
man of letters and trinkets, the book contains a quantity of valuable
and substantial matter, both as a record of rich stores of learning
heaped up for the use of the scholar, and marvellous varieties to dazzle
the eyes of the mere Dibdinite. The prevailing feature throughout is the
lavish costliness and luxury of these collections, several of which
exceed ten thousand volumes. Where collections have grown so large that,
on the principles already explained, their increase is impeded, the
owner's zeal and wealth seem to have developed themselves in the lavish
enshrining and decorating of such things as were attainable.[52]
[Footnote 52: Take as a practical commentary on what has been said (p.
82) on "illustrating" books, the following passage describing some of
the specialties of a collection, the general features of which are
described further on:--
"But the crowning glory is a folio copy of Shakespeare, illustrated by
the collector himself, with a prodigality of labour and expense, that
places it far above any similar work ever attempted. The letterpress of
this great work is a choice specimen of Nichol's types, and each play
occupies a separate portfolio. These are accompanied by costly
engravings of landscapes, rare portraits, maps, elegantly coloured
plates of costumes, and water-colour drawings, executed by some of the
best artists of the day. Some of the plays have over 200 folio
illustrations, each of which is beautifully inlaid or mounted, and many
of the engravings are very valuable. Some of the landscapes, selected
from the oldest cosmographies known, illustrating the various places
mentioned in the pages of Shakespeare, are exceedingly curious as well
as valuable.
"In the historical plays, when possible, every character is portrayed
from authoritative sources, as old tapestries, monumental brasses, or
illuminated works of the age, in well-executed drawings or recognised
engravings. There are in this work a vast number of illustrations, in
addition to a very numerous collection of water-colour drawings. In
addition to the thirty-seven plays, are two volumes devoted to
Shakespeare's life and times, one volume of portraits, one volume
devoted to distinguished Shakespearians, one to poems, and two to
disputed plays, the whole embracing a series of forty-two folio volumes,
and forming, perhaps, the most remarkable and costly monument, in this
shape, ever attempted by a devout worshipper of the Bard of Avon. The
volume devoted to Shakespeare's portraits was purchased by Mr Burton, at
the sale of a gentleman's library, who had spent many years in making
the collection, and includes various 'effigies' unknown to many
laborious collectors. It contains upwards of 100 plates, for the most
part proofs. The value of this collection may be estimated by the fact,
that a celebrated English collector recently offered its possessor L60
for this single volume.
"In the reading-room directly beneath the main library, are a number of
portfolios of prints illustrative of the plays of Shakespeare, of a size
too large to be included in the illustrated collection just noticed.
There is likewise another copy of Shakespeare, based upon Knight's
pictorial royal octavo, copiously illustrated by the owner; but although
the prints are numerous, they are neither as costly nor as rare as those
contained in the large folio copy.
"Among the curiosities of the Shakespeare collection are a number of
copies of the disputed plays, printed during his lifetime, with the name
of Shakespeare as their author. It is remarkable, if these plays were
not at least revised by Shakespeare, that no record of a contradiction
of their authorship should be found. It is not improbable that many
plays written by others were given to Shakespeare to perform in his
capacity as a theatrical manager, requiring certain alterations in order
to adapt them to the use of the stage, which were arranged by his
cunning and skilful hand, and these plays afterward found their way into
print, with just sufficient of his emendations to allow his authorship
of them, in the carelessness in which he held his literary fame, to pass
uncontradicted by him.
"There is a copy of an old play of the period, with manuscript
annotations, and the name of Shakespeare written on the title-page. It
is either the veritable signature of the poet, or an admirably imitated
forgery. Mr Burton inclined to the opinion that the work once belonged
to Shakespeare, and that the signature is genuine. If so, it is probably
the only scrap of his handwriting on this continent. This work is not
included in the list given of Ireland's library, the contents of which
were brought into disrepute by the remarkable literary forgeries of the
son, but stands forth peculiar and unique, and furnishes much room for
curious speculation."--(148-51.)]
The descriptions of a remorseless investigator like this have a fresh
individuality not to be found here, where our habitual reserve prevents
us from offering or enjoying a full, true, and particular account of
the goods of our neighbours, unless they are brought to the hammer,--and
then they have lost half the charm which they possessed as the household
gods of some one conspicuous by position or character, and are little
more estimable than other common merchandise. It would be difficult to
find, among the countless books about books produced by us in the old
country, any in which the bent of individual tastes and propensities is