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JANUARY, 1836.

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ANTIQUARIAN RESEARCHES-Society of Antiquaries, &c...

HISTORICAL CHRONICLE.-Foreign News, 83.-Domestic Occurrences,
84.-Theatrical Register, 85.-Promotions, &c. 85.-Marriages..
OBITUARY; with Memoirs of the Duke of Beaufort; Lord Robert Manners;
Sir T. E. Croft, Bart.; Thomas Taylor, Esq.; Charles Coote, LL.D.;
Rev. Luke Booker, LL.D.; Mr. Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd...

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Bill of Mortality-Markets-Prices of Shares, 103-Meteorological Diary-Stocks 104
Embellished with a View of the Free GRAMMAR SCHOOL at ST. OLAVE'S, Southwark;
Relics of Sculpture and Painting at ST. STEPHEN'S CHAPEL, Westminster;
and with Vignette Representations of various CROSSES.



Mr. MONTGOMERY MARTIN'S History of the British Colonies.-We regret that the number and urgency of other articles in the Review department will prevent us from laying before our readers, in the present Number, a more extended notice of the fourth and fifth volumes of this original and valuable publication. We, however, congratulate its author on the completion of his Herculean task; and on his having been also enabled to supply the British public with a new and enlarged edition of the first volume,

GAULOIS remarks: "After the numerous services rendered to Anglo-Norman literature, and the elucidation of its antiquities, by the late respected Abbé de la Rue, the concluding remarks on the last of his lucubrations, contained in the Obituary of your last Magazine, appear to be unmeritedly severe. It is desirable that such grave charges should not go forth to the world unsupported by sufficient evidence. It is not only a justice due to the memory of the venerable antiquary, that these errors, if they exist, should be pointed out; but it would render a service to the admirers of Norman literature, if the writer would favour them with his reasons for dissenting from the learned Abbé, and demonstrate the existence of those errors."

We give R. d. C. the inscription he inquires for from Gainford Church, Durbam. It is in raised letters on a brass plate within the altar rails :


Hic jacet humatus Rogerus Kirkby voca-
Templi Pilatus erat istius titulatus
Oret quisq. Deo memor ut sit ejus mise-

Crimina tergendo precat ubiq. reus.

(We are aware this somewhat differs from Hutchinson, vol. iii. p. 222, but believe it to be the more correct.) The second line, which might be thought to allude to some dignity of mysterious grandeur, signifies merely that the deceased was Vicar of the church of Gainford, to which he was instituted in 1401. We cannot furnish our correspondent with the inscriptions on the two bells, which he believes to be in Longobardic characters; but must refer him to some friend near the spot.

λ remarks: In the second volume of Burke's Commoners (page 491), is a note referring to the family of Dr. Sacheverell, as connected with a junior branch of the Tates of De la Pré. The compiler is correct in stating that Warburton was in error in making Bridget Tate the mother of Dr. Sacheverell. The monument in

Salisbury Cathedral clearly shows that Susanna, the widow of Sacheverell's father, remarried the Rev. Mr. Tate, the Vicar of Preshute, and that she died in 1722, aged 72. A reference to the Register of St. Peter's, Marlborough, at once establishes the fact, that this Susanna was the mother of Sacheverell

"1673.-Henry, the sonne of Mr. Josh. Sacheverell, Rector of this parish, by Susanna, his wife, was borne Feb. 5, and baptized the 17th day of the same moneth." Sacheverell's father succeeded Nicholas Profit, and was buried Jan. 21, 1685.Profit was buried Nov. 16th, 1669. There are baptismal entries of eight children born during the period of Mr. Sacheverell's incumbency. The shield on Mrs. Susanna Tate's monument, bears a saltire charged with five water-bougets, (Sacheverell), below which is the coat of Tate, both impaling a lion rampant.

J. R. of Bishop Wearmouth, states: "I am in possession of a French manuscript of 662 pages, being a collection on various subjects of general history, and which appears to have been prepared for publication, from the Indexes, &c. This MS. shows a great deal of research, and is stated to have been made by "Le Chevalier D'Oliveyra," and has the date of "Hackney, ce 23 September, 1778." In one part of the MS. speaking of a Miguel Lopes Ferreyra, he says, "Il épousa ma

Soeur D. Marie Anne Thérese d'Oliveyra, dont il eut plusieurs enfans, qui vivent encore." In another place, in naming the Countess of Yarmouth the favourite of King George II. who died in 1765, he further says, "Du Vivant du Roi celle Dame aiant demeurée longtems dans mon voissinage à Knightsbridge." Can any of your Correspondents inform me, who "le Chevalier D'Oliveyra" was, and if he published any works?"-J. R. is referred to Watt's Bibliotheca Britannica, 717, for a list of the Chevalier's works. His Memoirs of Portugal gained him great reputation; but his own personal history, and his treatment from the Inquisition, may be best gleaned from "Le Chevalier d'Oliveyra Erulé en Effigie comme Héretique, comment et pourquoi? Par Lui-même. London, 1762."

In the Obituary for Dec. last, p. 647, of the Countess of Antrim,-one of the daughters, Lady Charlotte-Elizabeth, was married on the 29th Aug. last to John Osborne, esq. son and heir of Sir John Osborne of Chicksands, Bart.




Occurris quocunque loco mihi, Codre, subinde
Nomina Magna, Aldos, Plantiniosque crepas.
Nunc Elzeveriis, Stephano nunc plaudis utrique,
Ast oculos tantum litera pulchra trahit.
Ardet Epictetus lato spectabilis auro,

Et Plato, jam culto corpore, bellus homo est.
Ipse licèt Musis venias comitatus, Homere,

Ni nitidus venias, ibis, Homere, foras, &c.

SUCH were the lines that arose in our memory, as we first turned over the leaves of Dr. Dibdin's Literary Reminiscences; and saw that the costly fires which he had lighted in his youth were yet unextinguished; that he still rejoiced in the pomp and prodigality of splendid editions and curious copies, and that the eyes of the veteran Bibliomaniac still twinkled, when before him rose, in all the luxury of form and colour,

'Membrana Attalica, et Nilo cognata Papyrus.'

But though we smiled at the Doctor's enthusiasm for his old hobby-horse, we soon learned to appreciate the many good qualities that appeared with it; and certainly there is a kindliness of feeling, a friendly warmth of expression, and a good-humoured cheerfulness in the pages of this volume, that would smooth the brow of criticism, and disarm the severity of the sourest of the critical brood. For ourselves, we are very willing to take the Doctor's advice, as given to us in his Preface-to collect all the information which the volume affords; and what his autobiography does not furnish, to find in the animated portraits of his patrons and the personal recollections of his friends; in his account of his competitors at the Universities, bis rivals in the press-the Bibliographers, Bibliophilists, and Bibliomaniacs in every form and degree; those who suspended on the walls of Saint Margaret's their grateful monument to the memory of Caxton, and those who made annual libations to his venerable shade, and willingly spent six guineas a-year in turtle-soup and claret, to talk over his typographical glory, and immortalize the luxury of his unrivalled press. Assuredly there is no necessity, in the present day, to write diatribes against book-collectors; Peel's Lunacy Bill, and wheat at 36 shillings a-quarter, have sobered down this passion, till it has assumed a more reasonable form; and the evil is so mitigated, that volumes the most cherished and esteemed, such as would have turned the cheek of Cracherode pale, and kept the Lord of Althorp from his sleep, may now be gained without solicitation, and purchased without absolute ruin to one's wife, children, and dependants. Bibliography, when soberly pursued, is part and parcel of a scholar's knowledge, because a good workman should be acquainted with his tools; but, as we recollect Sir Astley Cooper says that he never knew a surgeon of eminence very particular about his instruments, or very curious in minute alterations of them; and as Sir Joshua Reynolds observes that it is the certain mark of an inferior painter

to be over nice about his brushes and colours; so we venture to think that a too nice and delicate interest about copies, editions, margins, bindings, toolings, starchings, and repairings, and all the other arcana of the science, that lie upon that ample territory extending between the domain of Mr. Lewis and Mr. Hering, perhaps may not be quite compatible with an anxious desire to be acquainted with the author who resides within them: it is like studying the wards and handle of a key, instead of putting it into the lock and opening the door; and as we firmly believe that the margin, however ample, does not contain the whole pith and marrow of a book, we think a little time may occasionally be spared for a survey of the text. Besides, a lover's heart is always weak, whether he is a lover of living forms or dry paper, of fair or vellum-coloured skins, of beauty in satin or russia leather, on sofas or on shelves, loose in sheets or fast bound; all is the same; there is no repressing the enthusiasm of the fancy, or controlling the wildness of the imagination's wing. You may warn the heedless amateur that his bride without a portion, or his books bearing no interest, will assuredly lead him to poverty and repentance; but it is all in vain in either case. The lover of living forms forgets, at his mistress's feet, the prudence of your monition; the lover of dead ones, leaves you for his study, and again—

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The book-collector's insidious enemies, are at work day and night to mislead him; he is dæmon-led, and a perpetual incubus is upon him. In broad daylight the enchanted hammer of Sotheby rises before his eyes; the too fascinating tones of Evans's silver voice are luring him to the fatal gulf. Night brings with it no repose: then he dreams of the collected treasures of Althorp, and Hodnet, and Eshton; then the venerable forms of Pynson and De Worde take their stations on each side of his sleepless pillow; then huge tomes of De Bure, and Pauzer, and Maittaire, and Clement, and Ames, and Lowndes are piled up on his groaning toilet; and when the morning breaks, it is only to add fresh fuel to the fever that is consuming his mind. The first knock of the postman brings a new and resistless catalogue from Bedford-street. Instantly-ingenti perculsus amore-he flies unresisting to the sorcerer's cave; enters with the chosen numbers in his parched and trembling hand; watches the mysterious movement of the hierophant-sees the ladder that is to lead him to his hopes applied— follows the inferior priests as they hurry to and fro at his bidding, till volume after volume is laid before him-libros versat nunc sedulus omnes.'

"They are mine," he cries-" that choice-paper Ashmole-these uncut Hearnes-the object of my life." Poor youth! no sooner is he returned, gazing over his gathered treasures, than the rival palace of the book-gods, guarded by its two sable dæmons in Pall-mall, unfolds a still ampler hoard to excite his enterprize and ambition. Now appear richly-illuminated manuscripts, drawn from some Calabrian convent, or some Neapolitan palace, which the transalpine eye of the connoisseur had never before beheld, presenting their blushing maiden purity to his ardent gaze.

• With that of the boke losen'd were the claspes;
The margent was illumin'd all with golden railes,
And bice empictured, with grasshoppers and waspes,
With butterflies, and freshe pecocke tailes,
Englored with flowers, and slymy snayles,
Envyved pictures well touched and quickly,

It would have made a man hole, that had be right sickly,

To beholde how it was garnished and bound
Encoverde over with golde and tissue fine,
The claspes and buttons were worth a M pounde,
With balassis, and carbuncles the border did shyne,
With aurum mosaicum every other lyne,' &c.

Again the Myotic cabinet is opened and lo! a manuscript of Petrarch appears, fluttering before him-' versicoloribus alis'-whose decorations even Raphael might have admired for their elegance or a Livy unfolds its still more gorgeous pages, bearing the proud record that Alphonso, King of Arragon, of Sicily, and Jerusalem, had presented it to Leo the Tenth.

Such are the dangers that encircle the ardent collector of books-such the conflict he endures, the Circæan cup he drinks-ever drinking and ever inflamed with thirst, he perseveres till his own dust mingles with that which he has so piously preserved; and he too is laid on the shelf.

But whatever may have been the evil attending that temporary fever of collecting, which reached its acme at the Roxburghe sale; though some bore the cruel marks and scratches of it to the grave; though some mourned their mortgaged lands and desecrated woods; and some saw the secluded beauties of their cherished harem dragged forth to public gaze; yet the evil was not unmitigated, nor unattended with advantageous results. The knowledge of many valuable works was more widely diffused,-their contents were more accurately examined. The gigantic piles of the public libraries were ventilated and cleared by improved catalogues. The metropolitan booksellers, when the sun was in Taurus, left the forsaken town, and ransacked the provincial libraries. The Continent did not escape their eagle eyes; whole libraries were purchased, which the decayed nobility of Italy were but too willing to sell. Old and unknown editions of our own poets and early writers were brought to light; by which errors were rectified that no learning could have detected and no ingenuity have supplied. In the drama, what an interesting discovery was the single copy of the original Hamlet-the rough sketch of Shakspeare's mind. How much light was thrown upon the text of the same poet, and what erroneous readings were at once swept aside by the acuteness of Farmer in perceiving the line of the poet's reading, and by his diligence in following it through books of great rarity and difficulty of access. What would not that accomplished Critic give, from whom we are led soon to expect an edition of Skelton, and who is the only person who could give such a one as would dissipate much of the difficulties that now surround the author's text, and bring the long-lost readings to light-what would he not give, or what 'hyperborean deserts' would he not travel, to attain the original editions, irreparably lost, of that singular writer, and without which it is not possible to restore his works to their genuine form. In such respects as these, it is only the blockhead and the scorner that would sneer at the value placed by scholars on volumes which time and misuse have rendered valuable and rare. The fact is, they cannot be too eagerly sought for, too diligently examined, and too carefully preserved. Instead of having too many of these, we have to lament the loss of more, and we are delighted when such works of rarity and value as Watson's or Constable's Poems fall into the hands of persons so able and willing to profit by them as their present possessors.

But we must return to the Vicar of Exning and his friends, and give a slight account of the contents of the first part of his entertaining volume. Dr. Dibdin has entered into the subject of his parentage,-and we learn that his father was the celebrated Tom Bowling of the incomparable ballad

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