Books and Bookmen [33]
books conveniently small in shape, and
packed in sumptuous cases. The classical writers of France could
never content Napoleon, and even from Moscow in 1812, he wrote to
Barbier clamorous for new books, and good ones. Long before they
could have reached Moscow, Napoleon was flying homeward before
Kotousoff and Benningsen.
Napoleon was the last of the book-lovers who governed France. The
Duc d'Aumale, a famous bibliophile, has never "come to his own," and
of M. Gambetta it is only known that his devotional library, at
least, has found its way into the market. We have reached the era
of private book-fanciers: of Nodier, who had three libraries in his
time, but never a Virgil; and of Pixerecourt, the dramatist, who
founded the Societe des Bibliophiles Francais. The Romantic
movement in French literature brought in some new fashions in book-
hunting. The original editions of Ronsard, Des Portes, Belleau, and
Du Bellay became invaluable; while the writings of Gautier, Petrus
Borel, and others excited the passion of collectors. Pixerecourt
was a believer in the works of the Elzevirs. On one occasion, when
he was outbid by a friend at an auction, he cried passionately, "I
shall have that book at your sale!" and, the other poor bibliophile
soon falling into a decline and dying, Pixerecourt got the volume
which he so much desired. The superstitious might have been excused
for crediting him with the gift of jettatura,--of the evil eye. On
Pixerecourt himself the evil eye fell at last; his theatre, the
Gaiete, was burned down in 1835, and his creditors intended to
impound his beloved books. The bibliophile hastily packed them in
boxes, and conveyed them in two cabs and under cover of night to the
house of M. Paul Lacroix. There they languished in exile till the
affairs of the manager were settled.
Pixerecourt and Nodier, the most reckless of men, were the leaders
of the older school of bibliomaniacs. The former was not a rich
man; the second was poor, but he never hesitated in face of a price
that he could not afford. He would literally ruin himself in the
accumulation of a library, and then would recover his fortunes by
selling his books. Nodier passed through life without a Virgil,
because he never succeeded in finding the ideal Virgil of his
dreams,--a clean, uncut copy of the right Elzevir edition, with the
misprint, and the two passages in red letters. Perhaps this failure
was a judgment on him for the trick by which he beguiled a certain
collector of Bibles. He INVENTED an edition, and put the collector
on the scent, which he followed vainly, till he died of the sickness
of hope deferred.
One has more sympathy with the eccentricities of Nodier than with
the mere extravagance of the new haute ecole of bibliomaniacs, the
school of millionnaires, royal dukes, and Rothschilds. These
amateurs are reckless of prices, and by their competition have made
it almost impossible for a poor man to buy a precious book. The
dukes, the Americans, the public libraries, snap them all up in the
auctions. A glance at M. Gustave Brunet's little volume, 'La
Bibliomanie en 1878,' will prove the excesses which these people
commit. The funeral oration of Bossuet over Henriette Marie of
France (1669), and Henriette Anne of England (1670), quarto, in the
original binding, are sold for 200 pounds. It is true that this
copy had possibly belonged to Bossuet himself, and certainly to his
nephew. There is an example, as we have seen, of the 1682 edition
of Moliere,--of Moliere whom Bossuet detested,--which also belonged
to the eagle of Meaux. The manuscript notes of the divine on the
work of the poor player must be edifying, and in the interests of
science it is to be hoped that this book may soon come into the
market. While pamphlets of Bossuet are sold so dear, the first
edition of Homer--the beautiful edition of 1488, which the three
young Florentine gentlemen published--may be had for 100 pounds.
Yet even that seems expensive, when we remember that the copy in the
packed in sumptuous cases. The classical writers of France could
never content Napoleon, and even from Moscow in 1812, he wrote to
Barbier clamorous for new books, and good ones. Long before they
could have reached Moscow, Napoleon was flying homeward before
Kotousoff and Benningsen.
Napoleon was the last of the book-lovers who governed France. The
Duc d'Aumale, a famous bibliophile, has never "come to his own," and
of M. Gambetta it is only known that his devotional library, at
least, has found its way into the market. We have reached the era
of private book-fanciers: of Nodier, who had three libraries in his
time, but never a Virgil; and of Pixerecourt, the dramatist, who
founded the Societe des Bibliophiles Francais. The Romantic
movement in French literature brought in some new fashions in book-
hunting. The original editions of Ronsard, Des Portes, Belleau, and
Du Bellay became invaluable; while the writings of Gautier, Petrus
Borel, and others excited the passion of collectors. Pixerecourt
was a believer in the works of the Elzevirs. On one occasion, when
he was outbid by a friend at an auction, he cried passionately, "I
shall have that book at your sale!" and, the other poor bibliophile
soon falling into a decline and dying, Pixerecourt got the volume
which he so much desired. The superstitious might have been excused
for crediting him with the gift of jettatura,--of the evil eye. On
Pixerecourt himself the evil eye fell at last; his theatre, the
Gaiete, was burned down in 1835, and his creditors intended to
impound his beloved books. The bibliophile hastily packed them in
boxes, and conveyed them in two cabs and under cover of night to the
house of M. Paul Lacroix. There they languished in exile till the
affairs of the manager were settled.
Pixerecourt and Nodier, the most reckless of men, were the leaders
of the older school of bibliomaniacs. The former was not a rich
man; the second was poor, but he never hesitated in face of a price
that he could not afford. He would literally ruin himself in the
accumulation of a library, and then would recover his fortunes by
selling his books. Nodier passed through life without a Virgil,
because he never succeeded in finding the ideal Virgil of his
dreams,--a clean, uncut copy of the right Elzevir edition, with the
misprint, and the two passages in red letters. Perhaps this failure
was a judgment on him for the trick by which he beguiled a certain
collector of Bibles. He INVENTED an edition, and put the collector
on the scent, which he followed vainly, till he died of the sickness
of hope deferred.
One has more sympathy with the eccentricities of Nodier than with
the mere extravagance of the new haute ecole of bibliomaniacs, the
school of millionnaires, royal dukes, and Rothschilds. These
amateurs are reckless of prices, and by their competition have made
it almost impossible for a poor man to buy a precious book. The
dukes, the Americans, the public libraries, snap them all up in the
auctions. A glance at M. Gustave Brunet's little volume, 'La
Bibliomanie en 1878,' will prove the excesses which these people
commit. The funeral oration of Bossuet over Henriette Marie of
France (1669), and Henriette Anne of England (1670), quarto, in the
original binding, are sold for 200 pounds. It is true that this
copy had possibly belonged to Bossuet himself, and certainly to his
nephew. There is an example, as we have seen, of the 1682 edition
of Moliere,--of Moliere whom Bossuet detested,--which also belonged
to the eagle of Meaux. The manuscript notes of the divine on the
work of the poor player must be edifying, and in the interests of
science it is to be hoped that this book may soon come into the
market. While pamphlets of Bossuet are sold so dear, the first
edition of Homer--the beautiful edition of 1488, which the three
young Florentine gentlemen published--may be had for 100 pounds.
Yet even that seems expensive, when we remember that the copy in the