Books and Bookmen [30]
were peculiar. Perhaps he sailed rather
nearer the wind than even Monkbarns would have cared to do. His
favourite plan was to buy up whole libraries in the gross,
"speculative lots" as the dealers call them. In the second place,
he advised the book-lover to haunt the retreats of Libraires
fripiers, et les vieux fonds et magasins. Here he truly observes
that you may find rare books, broches,--that is, unbound and uncut,-
-just as Mr. Symonds bought two uncut copies of 'Laon and Cythna' in
a Bristol stall for a crown. "You may get things for four or five
crowns that would cost you forty or fifty elsewhere," says Naude.
Thus a few years ago M. Paul Lacroix bought for two francs, in a
Paris shop, the very copy of 'Tartuffe' which had belonged to Louis
XIV. The example may now be worth perhaps 200 pounds. But we are
digressing into the pleasures of the modern sportsman.
It was not only in second-hand bookshops that Naude hunted, but
among the dealers in waste paper. "Thus did Poggio find Quintilian
on the counter of a wood-merchant, and Masson picked up 'Agobardus'
at the shop of a binder, who was going to use the MS. to patch his
books withal." Rossi, who may have seen Naude at work, tells us how
he would enter a shop with a yard-measure in his hand, buying books,
we are sorry to say, by the ell. "The stalls where he had passed
were like the towns through which Attila or the Tartars had swept,
with ruin in their train,--ut non hominis unius sedulitas, sed
calamitas quaedam per omnes bibliopolarum tabernas pervasisse
videatur!" Naude had sorrows of his own. In 1652 the Parliament
decreed the confiscation of the splendid library of Mazarin, which
was perhaps the first free library in Europe,--the first that was
open to all who were worthy of right of entrance. There is a
painful description of the sale, from which the book-lover will
avert his eyes. On Mazarin's return to power he managed to collect
again and enrich his stores, which form the germ of the existing
Bibliotheque Mazarine.
Among princes and popes it is pleasant to meet one man of letters,
and he the greatest of the great age, who was a bibliophile. The
enemies and rivals of Moliere--De Vise, De Villiers, and the rest--
are always reproaching him--with his love of bouquins. There is
some difference of opinion among philologists about the derivation
of bouquin, but all book-hunters know the meaning of the word. The
bouquin is the "small, rare volume, black with tarnished gold,"
which lies among the wares of the stall-keeper, patient in rain and
dust, till the hunter comes who can appreciate the quarry. We like
to think of Moliere lounging through the narrow streets in the
evening, returning, perhaps, from some noble house where he has been
reading the proscribed 'Tartuffe,' or giving an imitation of the
rival actors at the Hotel Bourgogne. Absent as the contemplateur
is, a dingy book-stall wakens him from his reverie. His lace
ruffles are soiled in a moment with the learned dust of ancient
volumes. Perhaps he picks up the only work out of all his library
that is known to exist,--un ravissant petit Elzevir, 'De Imperio
Magni Mogolis' (Lugd. Bat. 1651). On the title-page of this tiny
volume, one of the minute series of 'Republics' which the Elzevirs
published, the poet has written his rare signature, "J. B. P.
Moliere," with the price the book cost him, "1 livre, 10 sols." "Il
n'est pas de bouquin qui s'echappe de ses mains," says the author of
'La Guerre Comique,' the last of the pamphlets which flew about
during the great literary quarrel about "L'Ecole des Femmes."
Thanks to M. Soulie the catalogue of Moliere's library has been
found, though the books themselves have passed out of view. There
are about three hundred and fifty volumes in the inventory, but
Moliere's widow may have omitted as valueless (it is the foible of
her sex) many rusty bouquins, now worth far more than their weight
in gold. Moliere owned no fewer than two hundred and forty volumes
of French and Italian
nearer the wind than even Monkbarns would have cared to do. His
favourite plan was to buy up whole libraries in the gross,
"speculative lots" as the dealers call them. In the second place,
he advised the book-lover to haunt the retreats of Libraires
fripiers, et les vieux fonds et magasins. Here he truly observes
that you may find rare books, broches,--that is, unbound and uncut,-
-just as Mr. Symonds bought two uncut copies of 'Laon and Cythna' in
a Bristol stall for a crown. "You may get things for four or five
crowns that would cost you forty or fifty elsewhere," says Naude.
Thus a few years ago M. Paul Lacroix bought for two francs, in a
Paris shop, the very copy of 'Tartuffe' which had belonged to Louis
XIV. The example may now be worth perhaps 200 pounds. But we are
digressing into the pleasures of the modern sportsman.
It was not only in second-hand bookshops that Naude hunted, but
among the dealers in waste paper. "Thus did Poggio find Quintilian
on the counter of a wood-merchant, and Masson picked up 'Agobardus'
at the shop of a binder, who was going to use the MS. to patch his
books withal." Rossi, who may have seen Naude at work, tells us how
he would enter a shop with a yard-measure in his hand, buying books,
we are sorry to say, by the ell. "The stalls where he had passed
were like the towns through which Attila or the Tartars had swept,
with ruin in their train,--ut non hominis unius sedulitas, sed
calamitas quaedam per omnes bibliopolarum tabernas pervasisse
videatur!" Naude had sorrows of his own. In 1652 the Parliament
decreed the confiscation of the splendid library of Mazarin, which
was perhaps the first free library in Europe,--the first that was
open to all who were worthy of right of entrance. There is a
painful description of the sale, from which the book-lover will
avert his eyes. On Mazarin's return to power he managed to collect
again and enrich his stores, which form the germ of the existing
Bibliotheque Mazarine.
Among princes and popes it is pleasant to meet one man of letters,
and he the greatest of the great age, who was a bibliophile. The
enemies and rivals of Moliere--De Vise, De Villiers, and the rest--
are always reproaching him--with his love of bouquins. There is
some difference of opinion among philologists about the derivation
of bouquin, but all book-hunters know the meaning of the word. The
bouquin is the "small, rare volume, black with tarnished gold,"
which lies among the wares of the stall-keeper, patient in rain and
dust, till the hunter comes who can appreciate the quarry. We like
to think of Moliere lounging through the narrow streets in the
evening, returning, perhaps, from some noble house where he has been
reading the proscribed 'Tartuffe,' or giving an imitation of the
rival actors at the Hotel Bourgogne. Absent as the contemplateur
is, a dingy book-stall wakens him from his reverie. His lace
ruffles are soiled in a moment with the learned dust of ancient
volumes. Perhaps he picks up the only work out of all his library
that is known to exist,--un ravissant petit Elzevir, 'De Imperio
Magni Mogolis' (Lugd. Bat. 1651). On the title-page of this tiny
volume, one of the minute series of 'Republics' which the Elzevirs
published, the poet has written his rare signature, "J. B. P.
Moliere," with the price the book cost him, "1 livre, 10 sols." "Il
n'est pas de bouquin qui s'echappe de ses mains," says the author of
'La Guerre Comique,' the last of the pamphlets which flew about
during the great literary quarrel about "L'Ecole des Femmes."
Thanks to M. Soulie the catalogue of Moliere's library has been
found, though the books themselves have passed out of view. There
are about three hundred and fifty volumes in the inventory, but
Moliere's widow may have omitted as valueless (it is the foible of
her sex) many rusty bouquins, now worth far more than their weight
in gold. Moliere owned no fewer than two hundred and forty volumes
of French and Italian