his literary powers. His collection, with its long train of legends and associations, came to what he himself must have counted as difperfal. He left it to his housekeeper, who, like a wife woman, converted it into cash while its myfterious reputation was fresh. Huddled in a great auction-room, its feveral catalogued items lay in humiliating contraft with the decorous order in which they were wont to be arranged. Sic tranfit gloria mundi.” After a pleasant sketch (too lengthy for citation) of the peculiar literary habits and eccentricities of Thomas De Quinceywhose spectral name is Thomas Papaveris—Mr. Burton evokes the finical ghoft of another order of "mighty book-hunters,' named Magnus Lucullus, Efq., of Grand Priory: "He is a man with a prefence-tall, and a little portly, with a handfome, pleasant countenance, looking hospitality and kindliness towards friends, and a quiet but not eafily folvable referve towards the rest of the world. He has no literary pretenfions, but you will not talk long with him without finding that he is a scholar, and a ripe iand good one. He is complete and magnificent an all his belongings; only, as no man's qualities and characteristics are of perfectly uniform balance and parallel action, his library is the sphere in which his difpofition for the complete and the magnificent has moft profufely developed itself. As you enter its Gothic door, a sort of indistinct, flightly mufky perfume, like that faid to frequent Oriental bazaars, hovers around. Everything is of perfect finish-the mahogany-railed gallerythe tiny ladders-the broad-winged lecterns, with leathern cushions on the edges to keep the wood from grazing the rich bindings-the books themfelves, each fhelf uniform with its facings or rather backings, like well-dreffed lines at a review. Their owner does not profess to indulge much in quaint monftrofities, though many a book of rarity is there. In the first place, he must have the best and most complete editions, whether common or rare; and, in the fecond place, they must be in perfect condition. All the claffics are there-one complete fet of Valpy's in good ruffia, and many feparate copies of each, valuable for text or annotation. The copies of Bayle, Moreri, the Trévoux Dictionary, Stephens's Lexicon, Du Cange, Mabillon's Antiquities, the Benedictine hiftorians, the Bolandifts' Lives of the Saints, Grævius and Gronovius, and heavy books of that order, are in their old original morocco, without a scratch or abrafure, gilt-edged, vellum-jointed, with their backs blazing in tooled gold. Your dingy, well-thumbed Bayle or Moreri poffibly coft you two or three pounds, his coft forty or fifty..... Throughout the establishment there is an appearance of care and order, but not of restraint. Some inordinately richly-bound volumes have special grooves or niches for themselves, lined with soft cloth, as if they had delicate lungs, and must be kept from catch ing cold. But even these are not guarded from the hand of the gueft. Lucullus fays his books are at the service of his friends; and, as a hint in the fame direction, he recommends to your notice a few volumes from the collection of the celebrated Grollier, the most princely and liberal of collect ors, on whofe claffic book-plate you find the genial motto, Joannis Grollierii et amicorum.' Having conferred on you the freedom of his library, he will not concern himself by obferving how you use it. He would as foon watch you after dinner, to note whether you efchew common fherry and fhow an expenfive partiality for that madeira at twelve pounds a dozen, which other men would probably only place on the table when it could be well invested in company worthy of the sacrifice." A notable class of literary vampires, who are technically termed Grangerites," and whofe peculiar glory it is to have their books " illuftrated," are thus happily defcribed: "Illustrating a volume confifts in inferting or in binding up with it portraits, landscapes, and other works of art bearing a reference to its contents. The illuftrator is the very Ishmaelite of collectors-his hand is against every man, and every man's hand is against him. He deftroys unknown quantities of books to fupply portraits or other illuftrations to a single volume of his own; and as it is not always known concerning any book that he has been at work on it, many a common book-buyer has curfed him on infpecting his own last bargain, and finding that it is deficient in an interesting portrait or two. there are, fitted to make the blood run cold in the veins of the most fanguine book-hunter, about the devaftations committed by thofe who are given over to this special purfuit. It is generally underftood that they received the impulfe which has rendered them an important fect, from the publication of Granger's Biographical Hiftory-hence their name of Grangerites. So it has happened that this industrious and respectable compiler is contemplated with mysterious awe as a fort of lit Tales ror and ruin around him." erary Attila or Gengis Khan, who has spread ter- YORK. Dr. Cogfwell, the first librarian of the Aftor, is characterized as 66 a judicious, In the chapter on Literary Pretenders, active, and formidable fportfman in the Mr. Burton expreffes his critical opinion of book-hunting world;" and Dr. Wynne as the literary merits of the Reverend Doctor "a remorfelefs investigator," who has maniThomas Frognall Dibdin, whofe elegant fefted his "verdant fimplicity in mentionvolumes of ftultifying prattle and maudlin ing among the fpecialities and diftinguishjocularity are the favorite "bibliographical ing features of a collection-the Biographia gems" of dainty book-collectors in this country: their own collections, and it is perhaps not improbable that a small number of the flight mistakes attributed to the Doctor's careleffness, ignorance, and verdant fimplicity," may have been committed by fome of these amateur historians themselves. and Encyclopædia Britannica, Lowndes's Manual, the Quarterly and Edinburgh Re"One of the reasons why Dibdin's expatiations views, Boyle [Bayle?], Ducange, Moreri, among rare and valuable volumes are, after all, fo Dodfley's Annual Regifter, Watt's Bibliodevoid of intereft, is, that he occupied himself in theca, and Diodorus Siculus." Dr. Wynne a great measure in catering for men with measure- fhould by no means be held individually lefs purses. Hence there is throughout too exact accountable for all the "verdant fimplician eftimate of everything by what it is worth in fterling cash, with a contempt of fmall things, ty," numerous typographical inaccuracies, which has an unpleasant odor of plush and fhoul- and ridiculous literary blunders, that apder-knot about it. Everything is too comfortable, pear in his luxurious volume; for many of luxurious, and easy-ruffia, morocco, emboffing, the very refpectable "private gentlemen," marbling, gilding all crowding on one another, whofe names figure fo confpicuously in it, till one feels fuffocated with riches. There is a feeling, at the fame time, of the utter ufelefs were the learned and elegant historians of pemp of the whole thing. Books, in the condition in which he generally defcribes them, are no more fitted for ufe and confultation than white kids and filk stockings are for hard work. Books fhould be used decently and refpectfully-reverently, if you will—but let there be no toleration for the doctrine that there are volumes too fplendid for ufe, too fine almost to be looked at, as A few characteristic extracts from Mr. Brummell faid of fome of his Drefden china. Burton's notice of Dr. Wynne's fumptuThat there should be little intereft in the record oufly-printed volume, will perhaps be amuof rich men buying coftly books which they know nothing about and never become acquainted with, fing to a portion of our readers; and with is an illustration of a wholesome truth, pervading these we fhall conclude our neceffarily hafty all human endeavors after happiness. It is this: account of "The Book-Hunter:" that the active, racy enjoyments of life-thofe enjoyments in which there is also exertion and achievement, and which depend on thefe for their proper relish-are not to be bought for hard cash. To have been to him the true elements of enjoyment, the book-hunter's treasures must not be his mere property, they must be his achievementseach one of them recalling the excitement of the chase and the happiness of success," &c. In the chapter on the CREATION OF LIBRARIES, Mr. Burton has devoted a number of pages to a notice of the Aftorian [fic] Library, and to Dr. James Wynne's volume on THE PRIVATE LIBRARIES OF NEW "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 fize and value of their private collections. A volume, called The Private Libraries of New York, by James Wynne, M. D., affords interefting evidence of this phenomenon. It is printed on large, thick paper, after the most luxurious fashion of our book-clubs, apparently for private diftribution. . . . . Such an undertaking reveals to us of the old country a very fingular focial condition. With us, the class who may be thus offered up to the martyrdom of publicity is limited. The owners of great houfes and great collections are doomed to share them with the public, and if they would frequent their own eftablishments, must be content to do fo in the capacity of librarians or fhowmen, for the benefit of their numerous and uninvited vifitors. They generally, with wife refignation, bow to the facrifice, and, abandoning all connection with their treasures, dedicate them to the people--nor, as their affluence is generally fufficient to furround them with an abundance of other enjoyments, are they an object of much pity. But that the privacy of our ordinary wealthy and middle claffes fhould be invaded in a fimilar fhape, is an idea that could not get abroad without creating fenfations of the moft lively horror. They manage these things differently across the Atlantic, and fo here we have 'over' fifty gentlemen's private collections ranfacked and anatomized. If they like it, we have no reason to complain. . . . . It is quite natural that their ways of efteeming a collection should not be as our ways. in Dr. Francis's collection 'a complete fet of the Recueil des Caufes Célèbres, collected by Maurice Mejan, in eighteen volumes-a scarce and valuable work-would throw any of our black-letter knight-errants into convulfions of laughter..... The descriptions of a remorseless investigator like this have a fresh individuality not to be found here, where our habitual referve prevents us from offering or enjoying a full, true, and particular account thers. Certainly, however, the most interesting of the whole is the library of the Rev. Dr. Magoon, an eminent and popular divine of the Baptift Church.' He entered on active life as an operative bricklayer. There are, it appears, wall-plates extant, and not a few, built by his hands; and it was only by faving the earnings thefe brought to him, that he could obtain an education. ... The bricklayer, however, was endowed with the heavenly gift of the high æfthetic, which no birth or breeding can fecure, and threw himself into that common ground where art and religion meet-the literature of Christian medieval art." Miscellaneous Items. The statement that there is SALE OF THE LIBRARY OF DR. FRAN of the goods of our neighbors, unless they are brought to the hammer and then they have loft half the charm which they poffeffed as the household gods of fome one confpicuous by position or character, and are little more eftimable 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 taftes and propenfities is fo diftinctly reprefented in tangible fymbols; and the reality of the elucidation is increased by the fort of innocent furprise with which the hiftorian ap proaches each lot,' evidently as a firft acquaintance, about whom he inquires and obtains all available particulars, good humoredly communicating them in bold detail to his reader. "There are in Dr. Wynne's book defcriptions, not only of libraries according to their kind, but according to their ftage of growth, from thofe which, as the work of a generation or two, have reached from ten to fifteen thoufand, to the collections still in their youth, fuch as Mr. Lorimer Graham's of five thousand volumes, rich in early editions of British poetry, and doubtlefs, by this time, still richer, fince its owner was lately here collecting early works on the literature of Scotland, and other memorials of the land of his fa CIS. MESSRS. BANGS, Merwin & Co. have iffued the CATALOGUE OF THE ENTIRE PRIVATE LIBRARY, BOTH MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS, OF THE LATE DR. JOHN W. FRANCIS, LL. D. The fale is announced to begin on Wednesday afternoon, June 4th, at four o'clock, and following days at the fame hour. The Catalogue numbers 126 pages, and embraces 3,159 lots, including old newspapers, pamphlets, odd numbers of magazines and reviews, a very liberal sprinkling of fecond-hand school-books, and a " library-table used by Dr. Francis many The medical part of the collecyears. tion is perhaps the most important and valuable, and contains "a folio copy of Zacchias, who wrote the first treatife on Forenfic Medicine"-a ftatement which will be read with surprise and fhouts of laughter by any physician tolerably well read in the hiftory of his profeffion. The miscellaneous portion of the library is marvellously rich in "presentation copies" of the works of an enormous fwarm of literary infects, whofe names have long fince justly funk into oblivion. Indeed, if the entire library may be taken as a criterion to judge of the venerable Doctor's scholarship, it may be fafely prefumed he did not poffefs the various and profound learning of Scaliger and Gui Patin, or even that of the erratic Jerome Cardan; and that his name will hardly survive to the poffible epoch of time when Lord Macaulay's celebrated New-Zealand traveller, feated on a broken arch of High Bridge, fhall overlook the wide-fpread and defolate ruins of " Old New York." SONG. ( My Mind to me a Kingdom is. SIR EDWARD Dyer, a friend of Sir Philip Sidney, is fuppofed to be the author of this excellent old Song. It is found in many collections, with many variations. The accurate Ritfon has been relied upon for the following verfion in his English Songs, excepting the eleventh stanza, which is given by Singer from a contemporary MS., containing many of the poems of Sir Edward Dyer, Edward Earl of Oxford, and their contemporaries, feveral of which have never been published: My mind to me a kingdom is; That God or Nature hath affign'd. I feek no more than may fuffice: Look, what I lack my mind supplies. I fee how plenty furfeits oft, And hafty climbers fooneft fall; Mishap doth threaten moft of all; No princely pomp, nor wealthy ftore, No wily wit to falve a fore, No fhape to win a lover's eye; To none of these I yield as thrall; I laugh not at another's lofs, I grudge not at another's gain; No worldly wave my mind can tofs, I brook that is another's bane: I fear no foe, nor fawn on friendI loath not life, nor dread mine end. My wealth is health and perfect ease, My confcience clear, my chief defence; I never seek by bribes to please, Nor by defert to give offence. Thus do I live, thus will I dieWould all did fo as well as I. I joy not in no earthly blifs, I weigh not Cræfus' wealth a straw; For care, I care not what it is I fear not fortune's fatal law: I wander not to feek for more; I kifs not where I wish to kill, I feign not love where moft I hate; I break no fleep to win my will, I wait not at the mighty's gate; I fcorn no poor, I fear no rich I feel no want, nor have too much. Some weigh their pleasure by their luft, Their wisdom by their rage of will; Their treasure is their only truft, A cloaked craft their store of skill; The court, ne cark, I like ne loath; W In this there is fenfe; for the curfew does IN Lady Duff Gordon's Narratives of leave the world, leaves it to darkness, and Remarkable Criminal Trials, tranflated leaves it to the poet, who meditates beft in from the German of Anfelm Ritter Von filence; but the ploughman does none of Feuerbach (London, 1846), there is a very these things. The motive for removing interefting account of the trial of Francis the third line into the first place, was to obtain a more striking commencement, which fhould found the key-note of the enfuing train of harmonious ideas; but this has been accomplished at the expenfe of all connection between the two latter lines of the stanza, which are now nonfenfical. Inftead of the tedious and abfurd episode beginning "Haply fome hoary-headed swain may say”— “And thou who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, No more with reason and thyself at strife, The thoughtlefs world to majesty may bow, Salefius Reimbauer, a parish priest, who was convicted of the murder of Anna Eichftädter, one of his mistreffes. The murderer feems to have been a profound cafuift, and in his confeffion fays: "Anna declared, when I met her at Ratisbon, that she would not part from me. I reprefented to her moft strongly that it was impoffible for me to take her, but all in vain. My position, my reputation, evrything that was facred and dear to me, would be endangered by her coming to Lauterbach. I thought within myself, 'What is to be done fhould fhe come?' and I fuddenly remembered the maxim laid down by Father Benedict Stattler in his Ethica Chriftiana, according to which it is lawful to deprive another of life, when honor and reputation cannot be otherwise maintained; for honor is of higher value than life, and the law of neceffity holds good against those who attack our honor, as much as against robbers. I thought over this maxim, which Profeffor St.ufed formerly to explain to us young ecclefiaftics in his lectures; and finding that it exactly applied to my own predicament, I took it as my dictamen practicum.". In a note it is added: "The chief, pasfages from which Reimbauer selected his dic |