LIBRARY OF STE. GENEVIeVE. THE ABBe MERCIER ST. LeGER. LIBRARY OF THE MAZARINE COLLEGE, OR INSt.i.tUTE. PRIVATE LIBRARY OF THE KING. MONS. BARBIER, LIBRARIAN.
It is just possible that you may not have forgotten, in a previous letter, the mention of STE. GENEVIeVE--situated in the old quarter of Paris, on the other side of the Seine; and that, in opposition to the _ancient_ place or church, so called, there was the _new_ Ste. Genevieve--or the Pantheon. My present business is with the _old_ establishment: or rather with the LIBRARY, hard by the old church of Ste. Genevieve. Of all interiors of libraries, this is probably the most beautiful and striking; and it is an absolute reproach to the taste of antiquarian art at Paris, that so beautiful an interior has not been adequately represented by the burin.
There is surely spirit and taste enough in this magnificent capital to prevent such a reproach from being of a much longer continuance. But my business is with the _original_, and not with any _copy_ of it--however successful. M. Flocon is the princ.i.p.al librarian, but he is just now from home[91]. M. Le Chevalier is the next in succession, and is rarely from his official station. He is a portly gentleman; unaffected, good-natured, and kind-hearted. He has lived much in England, and speaks our language fluently: and catching my arm, and leaning upon it, he exclaimed, with a sort of heart"s chuckle--in English, "with all my soul I attend you to the library."
On entering that singularly striking interior, he whispered gently in my ear "you shall be consigned to a clever attendant, who will bring you what you want, and I must then leave you to your occupations." "You cannot confer upon me a greater favour," I replied. "Bon, (rejoined he) je vois bien que vous aimez les livres. A ca, marchons." I was consigned to a gentleman who sat at the beginning of the left rectangular compartment--for the library is in the form of a cross--and making my bow to my worthy conductor, requested he would retire to his own more important concerns. He shook me by the hand, and added, in English--"Good day, G.o.d bless you, Sir." I was not wanting in returning a similar salutation.
The LIBRARY OF STE. GENEVIeVE exhibits a local of a very imposing, as well as extensive, appearance. From its extreme length,--which cannot be less than two hundred and thirty feet, as I should conjecture--it looks rather low. Yet the ceiling being arched, and tolerably well ornamented, the whole has a very harmonious appearance. In the centre is a cupola: of which the elder Restout, about ninety years ago, painted the ceiling. They talk much of this painting, but I was not disposed to look at it a second time. The charm of the whole arises, first, from the mellow tone of light which is admitted from the glazed top of this cupola; and, secondly, from the numerous busts, arranged along the sides, which recal to your remembrance some of the most ill.u.s.trious characters of France--for arts, for arms, for learning, and for public spirit. These busts are at the hither end, as you enter. Busts of foreigners continue the suite towards the other extremities. A good deal of white carved ornament presents itself, but not unpleasantly: the princ.i.p.al ground colour being of a sombre tint, harmonising with that of the books. The floor is of glazed tile. It was one of the hottest of days when I first put my foot within this interior; and my very heart seemed to be refreshed by the coolness--the tranquillity--the congeniality of character--of every thing around me! In such a place, "hours" (as Cowper somewhere expresses it) may be "thought down to moments." A sort of soft, gently-stealing, echo accompanies every tread of the foot. You long to take your place among the studious, who come every day to read in the right compartment of the cross; and which compartment they as regularly _fill_. Meanwhile, scarcely a whisper escapes them. The whole is, indeed, singularly inviting to contemplation, research, and instruction. But it was to the left of the cupola--and therefore opposite the studious corps just mentioned--that M. Le Chevalier consigned me to my bibliographical attendant. I am ignorant of his name, but cannot be forgetful of his kind offices. The MS. Catalogue (they have no printed one) was placed before me, and I was requested to cater for myself. Among the _Libri Desiderati_ of the fifteenth century, I smiled to observe the _Naples Horace of_ 1474 ... but you wish to be informed of the _acquired_, and not of the _desiderated_, treasures. Prepare, therefore, for a treat-- of its kind.
LACTANTIUS. _Printed in the Soubiaco Monastery_. 1465. Folio. This was Pope Pius the Sixth"s copy. Indeed the greater number of the more valuable early books belonged to that amiable Pontiff; upon whom Audiffredi (as you may well remember) has pa.s.sed so warm and so well merited an eulogium[92]. The papal copy, however, has its margins scribbled upon, and is defective in the leaf which contains the errata.
AUGUSTINUS DE CIVITATE DEI. _Printed in the same Monastery_. 1467. Folio.
The margins are broad, but occasionally much stained. The copy is also short. From the same papal collection.
CICERO DE ORATORE. _Printed in the same Monastery_. _Without Date_. Folio.
A sound copy, but occasionally scribbled upon. The side margins are rather closely cropt.
BIBLIA LATINA. 1462. Folio. 2 vols. I saw only the first volume, which displays a well-proportioned length and breadth of margin. The illuminations appear to be nearly coeval, and are of a soft and pleasing style of execution. Yet the margins are rather deformed by the designation of the chapters, in large roman numerals, of a sprawling character.
BIBLIA ITALICA. _Kalend. de Octobrio_. 1471. Folio. 2 vols. A perfectly magnificent copy (measuring sixteen inches three eighths, by ten and six eighths) of this very rare edition; of which a minute and particular account will be found in the Catalogue of Earl Spencer"s Library.[93] After a careful inspection--rather than from actual comparison--I incline to think that these n.o.ble volumes came from the press of _Valdarfer_. The copy under description is bound in brown calf, with red speckled edges to the leaves. This is a copy of an impression of which the library may justly be proud.
BIBLIA POLONICA. 1599. Folio. In style of printing and embellishment like our Coverdale"s Bible of 1535. Whether it be a reprint (which is most probable) of the famous Polish Bible of 1563, I am unable to ascertain.
VIRGILIUS. _Printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz_. (1469.) Folio. FIRST EDITION; of the greatest rarity. Probably this is the finest copy (once belonging to Pius VI.) which is known to exist; but it must be considered as imperfect--wanting the Priapeia. And yet it may be doubted whether the latter were absolutely printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz for their _first_ edition? This copy, bound in white calf, with the papal arms on the sides, measures twelves inches and a quarter in length, by eight inches and five eighths in width: but the state of the illumination, at the beginning of the Bucolics, shews the volume to have been cropt--however slightly. All the illuminations are quiet and pretty. Upon the whole, this is a very precious book; and superior in most respects to the copy in the Royal Library.[94]
PLINIUS SENIOR. 1469. Folio. EDITIO PRINCEPS. A copy from the same papal library; very fine, both as to length and width.--You rarely meet with a finer copy. _The Jenson edition_ of 1472 is here comparatively much inferior.
CICERO. RHETORICA VETUS. _Printed by Jenson_. 1470. Folio. A great curiosity: inasmuch as it is a copy UPON VELLUM. It has been cruelly cut down, but the vellum is beautiful. It is also choked in the back, in binding. From the collection of the same Pope.
SUETONIUS. _Printed by I.P. de Lignamine_. 1470. Folio. A magnificent copy; measuring thirteen inches and one eighth in height. The first leaf is, however, objectionable. From the same collection.
QUINTILIa.n.u.s. INSt.i.tUTIONES. _By the same Printer_. 1470. Folio. This and the preceding book are FIRST EDITIONS. A copy of equal beauty and equal size with the Suetonius. From the same Collection.
PRISCIa.n.u.s. _Printed by V. de Spira_. 1470. Folio. First Edition. We have here a truly delicious copy--UPON VELLUM--and much superior to a similar copy in the Royal Library[95] I ought slightly to notice that a few of the leaves, following the date, are tawny, and others mended. Upon the whole, however, this is a book which rejoices the eye and warms the heart of a cla.s.sical bibliographer. It is bound in pale calf, with gilt stamped edges, and once belonged to the Pontiff from whose library almost every previously-described volume was obtained.
DANTE. _Printed by Petrus [Adam de Michaelibus.] Mantua_. 1472. Folio. A large and fair copy of an exceedingly rare edition. It appears to be quite perfect.
BOETIUS. _Printed by Frater Iohannes_ 1474. 4to. It is for the first time that I open the leaves of this scarce edition. It is printed in a sharp and rather handsome roman type, and this copy has sixty-three numbered leaves.
ANTHOLOGIA GRaeCA. 1498. 4to. We have here a most desirable copy--UPON VELLUM, which is equally soft and white. It has been however peppered a little by a worm, at the beginning and end; especially at the end. It is coated in a goodly sort ofGaignat binding.
CICERONIS OPERA OMNIA. _Milan_. 1498. Folio. 4 vols. This is the finest copy of this rare set of volumes which it has been my lot yet to examine; but the dedication of the printer, Minutia.n.u.s, to I.I. Trivulcius, on the reverse of the first leaf of the first volume, is unluckily wanting. There are, who would call this a _large paper_ copy.
MARSILIUS FICINUS: IN DIONYSIUM AREOPAGITAM. _Printed by Laurentius, the Son of Franciscus a Venetian; at Florence. Without Date_. Folio. This is certainly a very beautiful and genuine book, in this particular condition-- UPON VELLUM--but the small gothic type, in which it is printed, is a good deal blurred. The binding is in its first state: in a deep red-coloured leather, over boards. I should apprehend this impression to be chiefly valuable on the score of rarity and high price, when it is found upon vellum.
The foregoing are what I selected from the _Fifteeners_; after running an attentive eye over the shelves upon which the books, of that description are placed. In the same case or division where these Fifteeners are lodged, there happen to be a few _Alduses_, UPON VELLUM--so beautiful, rare, and in such uncommon condition, that I question whether M. Van Praet doth not occasionally cast an envious eye upon these membranaceous treasures-- secretly, and perhaps commendably, wishing that some of them may one day find their way into the Royal Collection!... You shall judge for yourself.
HOMERI OPERA. Gr. _Printed by Aldus. Without date_. 12mo. 2 vols. First Aldine impression; and this copy perhaps yields only to the one in the Royal Library.[96] These volumes are differently bound; but of the two, that containing the _Iliad_, gains in length what it loses in breadth. The vellum is equally soft, white, and well-conditioned; and perhaps, altogether, the copy is only one little degree inferior to that in the Royal Library. The Odyssey is bound in old red morocco, with stampt gilt edges. This copy was purchased from the Salviati Library.
CICERONIS ORATIONES. _Printed at the Aldine Press_. 1519. 8vo. 3 vols.
Surely this copy is the _ne plus ultra_ of a VELLUM ALDUS! In size, condition, and colour, nothing can surpa.s.s it. When I say this, I am not unmindful of the Royal copies here, and more particularly of the _Pindar and Ovid_ in St. James"s Place. But, in truth, there reigns throughout the rectos and reverses of each of these volumes, such a mellow, quiet, and genuine tone of colour, that the most knowing bibliographer and the most fastidious Collector cannot fail to express his astonishment on turning over the leaves. They are bound in old red morocco, with the arms of a Cardinal on the exterior; and (with the exception of the first volume, which is some _very_ little shorter) full six inches and a half, by four inches. Shew me its like if you can!
I shall mention only three more volumes; but neither of them Aldine; and then take leave of the library of Ste. Genevieve.
MISSALE MOZARABIc.u.m. 1500. Folio. A fine copy for size and colour; but unluckily much wormed at the beginning, though a little less so at the end.
It measures nearly thirteen inches one quarter, by nine three eighths. From the stamped arms of three stars and three lizards, this copy appears to have belonged to the _Cardinal Juigne_, Archbishop of Paris; who had a fine taste for early printed books.
VITRUVIUS, _Printed by the Giunti_, 1513. 8vo. A delicious copy; upon white, soft, spotless VELLUM. I question if it be not superior to Mr.
Dent"s;[97] as it measures six inches and three-quarters, by four. A cruel worm, however, has perforated as far as folio 76; leaving one continued hole behind him. The binding of this exquisite book is as gaudy as it is vulgar.
TEWERDANCKHS. _Printed in 1517_. Folio. First Edition. This is doubtless a fine copy--upon thick, but soft and white, VELLUM. Fortunately the plates are uncoloured, and the copy is quite complete in the table. It measures fifteen inches in length, by nine inches three quarters in width.
Such appeared to me, on a tolerably careful examination of the t.i.tles of the volumes, to be among the chief treasures in the early and more curious department of books belonging to the STE. GENEVIeVE LIBRARY. Without doubt, many more may be added; but I greatly suspect that the learned in bibliography would have made pretty nearly a similar selection; Frequently, during the progress of my examinations, I looked out of window upon the square, or area, below--which was covered at times by numerous little parties of youths (from the College of Henry IV.) who were partaking of all manner of amus.e.m.e.nts, characteristic of their ages and habits. With, and without, coats--walking, sitting, or running,--there they were! All gay, all occupied, all happy:--unconscious of the alternate miseries and luxuries of the _Bibliomania_!--unknowing in the nice distinctions of type from the presses of _George Laver_, _Schurener de Bopardia_, and _Adam Rot_: uninitiated in the agonising mysteries of rough edges, large margins, and original bindings! But ...
Where ignorance is bliss "Tis folly to be wise.
This is soberly quoted--not meaning thereby to scratch the cuticle, or ruffle the temper, of a single Roxburgher. And now, my friend, as we are about to quit this magnificent a.s.semblage of books, I owe it to myself--but much more to your own inextinguishable love of bibliographical history--to say "one little word, or two"--ere we quit the threshold--respecting the Abbe MERCIER SAINT LeGER ... the head librarian, and great living ornament of the collection, some fifty years ago. I am enabled to do this with the greater propriety, as my friend M. Barbier is in possession of a number of literary anecdotes and notices respecting the Abbe--and has supplied me with a brochure, by Chardon De La Rochette, which contains a notice of the life and writings of the character in question. I am sure you will be interested by the account, limited and partial as it must necessarily be: especially as I have known those, to whose judgments I always defer with pleasure and profit, a.s.sert, that, of all BIBLIOGRAPHERS, the Abbe Mercier St. Leger was the FIRST, in eminence, which France possessed, I have said so myself a hundred times, and I repeat the a.s.severation. Yet we must not forget Niceron.
Mercier Saint Leger was born on the 1st of April, 1734. At fifteen years of age, he began to consider what line of life he should follow. A love of knowledge, and a violent pa.s.sion for study and retirement, inclined him to enter the congregation of the _Chanoines Reguliers_--distinguished for men of literature; and, agreeably to form, he went through a course of rhetoric and philosophy, before he pa.s.sed into divinity, as a resident in the Abbey _de Chatrices_ in the diocese of _Chalons sur Marne_. It was there that he laid the foundation of his future celebrity as a literary bibliographer. He met there the venerable CAULET, who had voluntarily resigned the bishopric of Gren.o.ble, to pa.s.s the remainder of his days in the abbey in question--of which he was the t.i.tular head--in the midst of books, solitude, and literary society. Mercier Saint Leger quickly caught the old man"s eye, and entwined himself round his heart. Approaching blindness induced the ex-bishop to confide the care of his library to St. Leger--who was also instructed by him in the elements of bibliography and literary history. He taught him also that love of order and of method which are so distinguishable in the productions of the pupil. Death, however, in a little time separated the master from the scholar; and the latter scarcely ever mentioned the name, or dwelt upon the virtues, of the former, without emotions which knew of no relief but in a flood of tears. The heart of Mercier St. Leger was yet more admirable than his head.
St. Leger, at twenty years of age, returned to Paris. The celebrated Pingre was chief librarian of the Ste. GENEVIEVE COLLECTION; and St. Leger attached himself with ardour and affection to the society and instructions of his Princ.i.p.al. He became joint SECOND LIBRARIAN in 1759; when Pingre, eminent for astronomy, departing for India to observe the transit of Venus over the sun"s disk, St. Leger was appointed to succeed him as CHIEF--and kept the place till the year 1772. These twelve years were always considered by St. Leger as the happiest and most profitable of his life.
During this period he lent a helping hand in abridging the _Journal de Trevoux_. In September, 1764, Louis XV. laid the foundation-stone, with great pomp and ceremony, of the new church of Ste. Genevieve. After the ceremony, he desired to see the library of the old establishment--in which we have both been so long tarrying. Mercier spread all the more ancient and curious books upon the table, to catch the eye of the monarch: who, with sundry Lords of the bed-chamber, and his _own_ librarian BIGNON, examined them with great attention, and received from Mercier certain information respecting their relative value, and rarity. Every now and then Louis turned round, and said to Bignon, "Bignon, have I got that book in my library?" The royal librarian ... answered not a word--but hiding himself behind CHOISEUL, the prime minister, seemed to avoid the sight of his master. Mercier, however, had the courage and honesty to reply, "No, Sire, that book is _not_ in your library." The king spent about an hour in examining the books, chatting with the librarian, (Mercier) and informing himself on those points in which he was ignorant. It was during this conversation, that the n.o.ble spirit of Mercier was manifested. The building of the library of St. Victor was in a very crazy state: it was necessary to repair it, but the public treasury could not support that expense. "I will tell your Majesty, (said Mercier) how this may be managed without costing you a single crown. The headship of the Abbey of St. Victor is vacant: name a new Abbot; upon condition, each year, of his ceding a portion of his revenue to the reparation of the Library." If the king had had one spark of generous feeling, he would have replied by naming Mercier to the abbey in question, and by enjoining the strict fulfilment of his own proposition.
But it was not so. Yet the scheme was carried into effect, although others had the glory of it. However, the king had not forgotten Mercier, nor the bibliographical lesson which he had received in the library of Ste.
Genevieve. One of these lessons consisted in having the distinctive marks pointed out of the famous _Bible of Sixtus V_. published in 1590. A short time after, on returning from ma.s.s, along the great gallery of Versailles, Louis saw the head librarian of Ste. Genevieve among the spectators.. and turning to his prime minister, exclaimed "Choiseul, how can one distinguish the _true_ Bible of Sixtus V.?" "Sire, (replied the unsuspecting minister) I never was acquainted with that book." Then, addressing himself to Mercier, the king repeated to him--without the least hesitation or inaccuracy--the lesson which he had learnt in the library of Ste.
Genevieve. There are few stories, I apprehend, which redound so much to this king"s credit.
Louis gave yet more substantial proofs of his respect for his bibliographical master, by appointing him, at the age of thirty-two, to the headship of the abbey of _St. Leger de Soissons_--and hence our hero derives his name. In 1772 Mercier surrendered the Ste. Genevieve library to Pingre, on his return from abroad--and in the privacy of his own society, set about composing his celebrated _Supplement a l"Histoire de l"Imprimerie par Prosper Marchand_--of which the second edition, in 1775, is not only more copious but more correct. The Abbe Rive, who loved to fasten his teeth in every thing that had credit with the world, endeavoured to shake the reputation of this performance.. but in vain. Mercier now travelled abroad; was received every where with banqueting and caresses; a distinction due to his bibliographical merits--and was particularly made welcome by Meerman and Crevenna. M. Ocheda, Earl Spencer"s late librarian--and formerly librarian to Crevenna--has often told me how pleased he used to be with Mercier"s society and conversation during his visit to Crevenna. On his return, Mercier continued his work, too long suspended, upon the LATIN POETS OF THE MIDDLE AGE. His object was, to give a brief biography of each; an a.n.a.lysis of their works, with little brilliant extracts and piquant anecdotes; traits of history little known; which, say Chardon De La Rochette and M. Barbier, (who have read a great part of the original MS.) "are as amusing as they are instructive."
But the Revolution was now fast approaching, and the meek spirit of Mercier could ill sustain the shock of such a frightful calamity. Besides, he loved his country yet dearer than his books. His property became involved: his income regularly diminished; and even his privacy was invaded. In 1792 a decree pa.s.sed the convention for issuing a "Commission for the examination of monuments." Mercier was appointed one of the thirty-three members of which the commission was composed, and the famous Barrere was also of the number. Barrere, fertile in projects however visionary and destructive, proposed to Mercier, as a _bright thought_, "to make a short extract from every book in the national library: to have these extracts superbly printed by Didot;--and to ... BURN ALL THE BOOKS FROM WHICH THEY WERE TAKEN!" It never occurred to this revolutionising idiot that there might be a _thousand_ copies of the _same work_, and that some hundreds of these copies might be OUT of the national library! Of course, Mercier laughed at the project, and made the projector ashamed of it.[98] Robespierre, rather fiend than man, now ruled the destinies of France. On the 7th of July, 1794, Mercier happened to be pa.s.sing along the streets when he saw _sixty-seven human beings_ about to undergo the butchery of the GUILLOTINE.
Every avenue was crowded by spectators--who were hurrying towards the horrid spectacle. Mercier was carried along by the torrent; but, having just strength enough to raise his head, he looked up ... and beheld his old and intimate friend the ex-abbe ROGER ... in the number of DEVOTED VICTIMS!
That sight cost him his life. A sudden horror ... followed by alternate shiverings, and flushings of heat ... immediately seized him. A cold perspiration hung upon his brow. He was carried into the house of a stranger. His utterance became feeble and indistinct, and it seemed as if the hand of death were already upon him.
Yet he rallied awhile. His friends came to soothe him. Hopes were entertained of a rapid and perfect recovery. He even made a few little visits to his friends in the vicinity of Paris. But ... his fine full figure gradually shrunk: the colour as gradually deserted his cheek--and his eye sensibly lacked that l.u.s.tre which it used to shed upon all around.
His limbs became feeble, and his step was both tremulous and slow. He lingered five years ... and died at ten at night, on the 13th of May 1799, just upon the completion of his jubilee of his bibliographical toil. What he left behind, as annotations, both in separate papers, and on the margins of books, is prodigious. M. Barbier shewed me his projected _third_ edition of the _Supplement to Marchand_, and a copy of the _Bibliotheque Francoise of De La Croix du Maine_, &c. covered, from one end to the other, with marginal notes by him.[99] That amiable biographer also gave me one of his little bibliographical notices, as a specimen of his hand writing and of his manner of pursuing his enquiries.[100]
Such are the feelings, and such the gratifications; connected with a view of the LIBRARY of STE. GENEVIeVE. Whenever I visit it, I imagine that the gentle spirit of MERCIER yet presides there; and that, as it is among the most ancient, so is it among the most interesting, of BOOK LOCALS in Paris.
Come away with me, now, to a rival collection of books--in the MAZARINE COLLEGE, or Inst.i.tute. Of the magnificence of the exterior of this building I have made mention in a previous letter. My immediate business is with the interior; and more especially with that portion of it which relates to _paper_ and _print_. You are to know, however, that this establishment contains _two Libraries_; one, peculiar to the Inst.i.tute, and running at right angles with the room in which the members of that learned body a.s.semble: the other, belonging to the College, to the left, on entering the first square--from the princ.i.p.al front.
The latter is the _old_ collection, of the time of Cardinal Mazarin, and with _that_ I begin. It is deposited chiefly on the first floor; in two rooms running at right angles with each other: the two, about 140 feet long. These rooms may be considered very lofty; certainly somewhat more elevated than those in the Royal Library. The gallery is supported by slender columns, of polished oak, with Corinthian capitals. The general appearance is airy and imposing. A huge globe, eight feet in diameter, is in the centre of the angle where the two rooms meet. The students read in either apartment: and, as usual, the greatest order and silence prevail.
But not a _Fust and Schoiffher_--nor a _Sweynheym and Pannartz_--nor an _Ulric Han_--in this lower region ... although they say the collection contains about 90,000 volumes. What therefore is to be done? The attendant sees your misery, and approaches: "Que desirez vous, Monsieur?" That question was balm to my agitated spirits. "Are the old and more curious books deposited here?" "Be seated, Sir. You shall know in an instant." Away goes this obliging creature, and pulls a bell by the side of a small door.
In a minute, a gentleman, clothed in black--the true bibliographical attire--descends. The attendant points to me: we approach each other: "A la bonne heure--je suis charme...." You will readily guess the remainder.
"Donnez vous la peine de monter." I followed my guide up a small winding stair-case, and reached the topmost landing place. A succession of small rooms--(I think _ten_ in number) lined with the _true_ furniture, strikes my astonished eye, and makes warm my palpitating heart. "This is charming"--exclaimed I, to my guide, Monsieur Thiebaut--"this is as it should be." M. Thieubaut bowed graciously.
The floors are all composed of octagonal, deeply-tinted red, tiles: a little too highly glazed, as usual; but cool, of a good picturesque tint, and perfectly harmonising with the backs of the books. The first little room which you gain, contains a plaster-bust of the late Abbe HOOKE,[101]
who lived sometime in England with the good Cardinal----. His bust faces another of Palissot. You turn to the right, and obtain the first foreshortened view of the "ten little chambers" of which I just spoke. I continued to accompany my guide: when, reaching the _first_ of the last _three_ rooms, he turned round and bade me remark that these last three rooms were devoted exclusively to "books printed in the _Fifteenth Century_: of which they possessed about fifteen hundred." This intelligence recruited my spirits; and I began to look around with eagerness. But alas!
although the crop was plentiful, a deadly blight had prevailed. In other words, there was number without choice: quant.i.ty rather than quality. Yet I will not be ill-natured; for, on reaching the third of these rooms, and the last in the suite, Monsieur Thiebaut placed before me the following select articles.