ties with their collections. The Roxburgh collection has, by its dispersion, enriched the noble libraries of the Duke of Devonshire, Lord Spencer and Mr. Grenville, all of them, but particularly the last, formed with regard to the value of the books, not the number of the volumes, numerous though they be. It has been questioned if all Europe could produce another individual who, in his ardor for collecting books, has disbursed, like Sir Thomas Phillips, £100,000! A fact worth noting, respecting the library of the Roxburgh collection is, that although it cost originally only £5,000, the collection actually produced, at the auction, in 1812, which lasted 45 days, the astonishing amount of £23,341! proving, at any rate, that books do not, like most perishable commodities, depreciate as they advance in age. Among other literary curiosities, it contained the Valdarfer edition of Il Decamerone di Boccacio,— the only copy known to be extant after the industrious researches of bibliomaniacs for the past three centuries;— it is in one thin folio, 1471, and being regarded by all devoted antiquaries as the most perfect specimen of early typography, produced at auction the incredible sum of £2,260 !—the highest price ever paid for a single volume.

It is amusing to observe to what an extent the Bibliomaniacs of the past century were sometimes willingly victimized. Among the curious instances on record, perhaps the following may not prove the least interesting:-at the auction sale of the library of the late Mr. Brindley, a diligent book collector, a volume of Poems by Patrick Hannay, 1622, which he bought for 6s., actually produced at the auction £35 14s.; also Herbert's "Dick and Robin," with songs and other old tracts, 1641, which cost originally 2s., sold for £10. Five of Robert Green's productions, which altogether cost only 7s. 9d., produced £41 14s. And a small tract, consisting of but four leaves, " An Account of an Englishe Hermite (the wonder of this age), one Roger Crab, who could live on three farthings a week (!), 1655, sold for no less a sum than £5 10.

The Roxburgh Club was established in commemoration of this memorable event, in the same year, in London, consisting of thirty-one of the most eminent book-collectors of the age Lord Spencer was its president. A

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writer in a recent number of the Quarterly Review, affords some additional information, of which we shall avail ourselves. He states that the library of Mr. Grenville is, in its way, unique; formed regardless of cost, elegant in taste and objects, choice in editions, with just as much of rarity as makes us esteem a picture by a master whose works are numbered by tens, more than one of equal merit by a painter whose canvas may be estimated by acres : there never was a library more complete in proportion to its extent than that of this venerable statesman and scholar a catalogue of this rare collection is printed. Earl Spencer's magnificent library is well known by the volumes of Dr. Dibdin, descriptive of the early-printed books it contains. Lord Guilford, who began early to indulge his penchant, after his return from Ceylon, collected largely works in the literature of Southern Europe. During his visits to the Continent he purchased entire libraries of vents; his collection was singularly rich in MSS. of Italian and Greek literature. His aim was to have founded a university in Corfu, and there to deposit his collection; a fire occurred at his mansion at Conduit Street, however, in 1809, when, in assisting to remove his books, he sustained an injury which finally issued in his death, and his costly collection was sold by auction; a portion of his treasures is now in the British Museum, and others were purchased for Sir Thomas Phillips's library. The late George Hibbert's large collection produced at auction over £40,000 ; he was not considered a very intelligent collector, however, but one who seemed to discover a pride for accumulating a prodigious amount of illustrated, scarce and costly books, which his certainly were. The recent sale and dispersion of the unique collection of the late Lord Kingsborough, has laid bare many precious relics of the Oriental world. Having been no mean proficient in the Chinese language, it may be supposed his library comprised some rare exotics from the fields of literature in the East, as well as, from his well-known splendid production on Mexico prior to the Spanish Conquest, equally curious relics from the Spanish. In MSS., his collection was very interesting, comprising several specimens of early

English poetry-one prior to Chaucer a volume of original letters of Queen Elizabeth; a choice copy of the "Vulgate,” and other illuminated MSS., on vellum, with a large amount of earlyprinted Spanish chronicles. Hazlewood, who may be considered the last of the great collectors, died some dozen years since, and with him, bibliomania, as a disease, may be almost said to have become extinct; although certain incipient indications, it is to be admitted, are occasionally still to be found. Literary societies seem to have taken the place of individual collectors-there have been in existence, if we remem. ber correctly, some of which still remain, besides the Roxburgh Club, the Ballantyne, the Shakspeare, the Archoologia, the Abbotsford, the Percy, Camden, the Lee Priory, and the City of London Clubs.

One other personal reminiscence must suffice; we refer to Richard Heber, brother to the bishop, who accumulated a prodigious and rather chaotic mass of books, which were located in the several cities of London, Oxford, Paris, Ghent, and at his residence, Hodnet, in Shropshire. His vast collection was peculiarly rich in ancient English literature; for extent and rarity, it has never been equalled, and never will be, perhaps, surpassed. Although no mean scholar, he appears to have amassed books without any definite design; he had some few favorite classes of literature, which he endeavored to complete, but, in general, all books were books to him, and he greedily purchased. He stopped not at duplicates, nor triplicates, nor even, sometimes, at a tenth copy; but of this gigantic library, the labor of a life, the expenditure of a fortune, what remains? Let the 100 days' sale by Evans, and the fifteen large catalogues, make the reply.

Among our notices of celebrated collectors, we ought not to omit our old friend Denny, of whom we have many curious reminiscenes. He kept a dirty, little obscure shop in Brydges Street, Covent Garden, filled up with books on the occult science of astrology and other mysticisms; which display, redolent of cobweb and sundry and diverse such-like ornamental appendages, it was his delight, every morning, himself to survey, with miser-jealousy: for, strange as it may seem, he did not wish to part with any of his collection. He

presented an amusing instance of the many we might recall, of eccentricity among the black-letter bibliopoles of England. It will be remembered Bulwer refers to this very personage in his preface to "Zanoni ;" and, as we can attest the verity of the sketch, we transfer a passage from it, it being too good to hope to improve by condensation. “Perhaps throughout all Europe, the curious might here discover the most notable collection, ever amassed by an enthusiast, of the works of alchymist, cabalist, and astrologer: the owner had lavished a fortune in the purchase of unsaleable treasures; but old D- did not desire to sell. It absolutely went to his heart, when a customer entered his shop; he watched the movements of the presumptuous intruder with a vindictive glare; he fluttered around him with uneasy vigilance; he frowned, he groaned when profane hands dislodged his idols from their niches. If it were one of the favorite sultanas of his wizard harem that attracted you, and the price named were not sufficiently enormous, he would not unfrequently double the sum. Demur, and, in brisk delight, he snatched the venerable charmer from your hands; accede, and he became the very picture of despair; not unfrequently, at the dead of night, would he knock at your door, and entreat you to sell him back, at your own terms, what you had so egregiously bought at his. A believer himself in his Averroes and Paracelsus, he was as loath as the philosophers he studied to communicate to the profane the learning he had collected."

But it is quite time we took some notice of the literary collections of our own country, and we fear our limits will barely admit of even a numerical sketch of these. The most important, perhaps, is that of Cambridge, comprising over 50,000 volumes; the Athenæum Library at Boston, about a similar number, which contains a large proportion of the choice collection of John Quincy Adams; those of Yale College include about 60,000, and that at Philadelphia, originated by Franklin, an equal amount of volumes. The Society Library of our own city now contains nearly 50,000, the Mercantile nearly 30,000, and the New York Historical collection, exceedingly choice in antiquarian lore, numbers something

bridge, and a host of other names, might also be quoted had we the space, proving the advancement of literary taste. We have thus presented a brief synoptical sketch of these vast depositaries of the literary genius of ancient as well as modern times; stupendous as they seem in their numerical extent, it is yet scarcely possible to impart, in so hasty a notice, anything like an adequate idea of their respective magnitudes. A curious calculation has been attempted by a recent writer to the following effect;-on the supposition of an edition to consist of 1200 copies of each book printed since the era of the ‘Divine art,' it is estimated the aggregate amount of volumes would form a base of 690 square feet, reaching 500 feet in height equal in dimensions to the great Egyptian pyramid of King Cheops. Another no less ingenious speculator in these matters conjectures, that of the books in our own language, even after deducting those obsolete or

worthless, there would still remain something like 50,000 volumes which would repay perusal. Suppose, then, a person to read 100 pages a day, or 100 volumes a year-which is more than most could well retain and digest

it would require 500 years to accomplish the task in full! Malthus estimates the gross amount of volumes now in existence in the world in the several libraries alone,-at 19,847,000

if to these we add the Mississippi flood of works incessantly teeming from the press throughout the world at the present day, where to propose a limit would be rather difficult to determinebut leaving the interesting problem for the solution of the reader, we take our leave of him for the present, though hoping soon again to be permitted to offer for his entertainment-may we venture to say, his not wholly unprofitable entertainment-another instalment of "loose leaves of a literary lounger.