His extraordinary precocity was displayed by the successful publication of a production from his own pen in his eleventh year; and his great work, De Veterum Notarum Explanatione, has not only immortalized his name, but has been long since acknowledged as a standard for reference by the learned. In the reign of the second Charles, we find the name of John Ogilby, geographical printer to the Court, and noted as having written some books, including a pompous account of the coronation of that monarch, which he was appointed to write, in 1661. He also published a magnificent Bible, with illustrations, for which he was remunerated by the British Parliament. Towards the close of the seventeenth century, Palliot, the historiographer, printer, and bookseller to the King of France, was also highly distinguished as a genealogist. As a proof of his untiring perseverance and industry, it is recorded that he left, at his decease, thirteen volumes of MSS., in addition to the five folios which he had already published, the plates of which were likewise executed by his own hands. Contemporary with him, lived Rothscholtz, the bookseller, of Nuremberg, whose name is distinguished in the world of letters by his great work, in two volumes quarto, entitled, A Short Essay towards an Ancient and Modern History of Booksellers. In early times, bookselling and printing were not only often combined, but, in some instances, it appears, authorship also was united with these several branches of handicraft. Numerous instances attest that a natural and intimate connection subsists between printing and knowledge, and that printers have themselves contributed by their genius to adorn the annals of their age: rising from the servile labors of the press to eminent distinction, and diffusing the light of science even in the darkest times. Bayle speaks of one who composed and printed a work simultaneously, setting up the types with his hands, as fast as his brain concocted his sentences, without the intervention of manuscript corrections. Lackington, the well-known bookseller, insists that there is an affinity between the two pursuits. He writes: "among all the schools where a knowledge of mankind may be acquired, I know of none equal to that of a bookseller's shop, where, if any one have any taste for literature, he may be said to feed his mind, as cooks' and butchers' wives get fat by the smell of meat." It cannot be denied, however, that there are numerous exceptions to this supposed rule; for the instances of eminent printers and booksellers we have presented, are from the many whose commerce with literature seemed to have awakened little or no sympathy with its pleasures, its pains, or its pursuit. The remark is not less applicable to our own times. Perhaps the most curious instance that ever occurred of an author-publisher, if we may venture so to style him, was that of an individual well known, years since, in the streets of London, who was no less remarkable for the novel method he adopted for displaying his productions before the world, even without the aid of the press, than as presenting the singular anomaly of writer and publisher combined, giving to the public his labors anonymously. How often have we seen him in our boyish peregrinations, and lingered to gaze on his ingenious performances. The "mammoth sheets" of our own day, stupendous as they are, shrink into a paltry insignificance as we trace out in mental vision the broad superficies of the former. Nor was the literary department the only feature that exhibited the skill of this luminous writer; he united within himself the artist also, equally excelling in design, engraving, and chirography. A black's head, with a ring through his nose, and a group of fish, were portrayed upon the pavement with inimitable fidelity. This singular genius, who used to fix his location wherever the pavement was sufficiently smooth, was a cripple, and it was amusing to observe, if among the admiring crowd, any inquisitive little urchin happened to encroach too closely on his prescribed limits, the implement which supplied to him the lack of limbs, was made the sum mary instrument to visit upon the shins of the offender the penalty of his trespass. His writing was exceedingly well executed, and his poetic lucubrations were generally no less admirably pointed--we regret that our recollection supplies us with no more than the following specimen : "Let no rude footsteps on this pavement tread, The very stones themselves cry out in vain!" This hapless votary of the muse has passed away; and though unchronicled in any "Curiosities of Literature," we trust we have said enough to rescue his memory-non omnis moriar!-from utter annihilation. Craving indulgence for the digression into which the recurrence of an early association has beguiled us, we retrace our steps, while we solicit the reader to accompany us adown the stream of time a few centuries back. In the olden time, prior to the era of printing, the MSS. of authors were obliged to be subjected to the ordeal of critical censorship, previous to their being allowed public perusal; their works being required to be read over before the Universities, for three successive days, or by appointed judges; when, if approved, copies were allowed to be executed by the monks, scribes, and illuminators. Even in the classical days of Greece and Rome, we find a trade carried on in books; those works most in demand being multiplied by the scribes and copyists. An exclusive traffic in the MSS. of those days seems to have been carried on along the shores of the Mediterranean, and the Greek colonies of the Euxine. During the middle ages, the booksellers were styled Stationarii at the Universities of Paris and Bologna; they used to sell and loan MSS. This was the commencement of the bookselling business. A species of literary censorship, it appears, was first established at Paris, in 1342, when a license from the ness. University was requisite previously to engaging in such busiThe booksellers were, in fact, regularly matriculated by entry on its roll, and considered as its officers; the prices of all books were also fixed according to the tariff of four sworn booksellers, by the institution; a fine was imposed for selling an imperfect copy of a work, and a catalogue, with the prices annexed, was further required to be always kept in the shops. This censorship was afterwards invested in the person of Berthold, Archbishop of Mentz, in 1486, and again renewed with greater vigor, with respect to books, by the Council of Trent, in 1546, being subsequently enforced by the popes, down to 1563, by whom several Indices Librorum Prohibitorum, were issued. In France the censorship was vested in the Chancellor; in England it was exercised by the well-known StarChamber; and after the abolition of that court, by Parliament itself; it was abolished in England about 1694, although it still continues in force, we believe, in several of the Continental States. The first bookseller, so called, on record was Faustus. He is said to have carried his books for sale to the monasteries in France and elsewhere; and the first bookseller who purchased MSS. for publication, without possessing a press of his own, was John Otto, of Nuremberg (1516). Resuming our notices of eminent bibliopoles, the next name we find in the order of date is that of John Dunton (temp. 1659-1733). Of his literary performances, his Life and Errors is the best known. His critical acumen, or good fortune, were certainly not much at fault; for it is recorded, that of the 600 works which he published, only seven proved unsuccessful. Chiswell, styled for pre-eminence the metropolitan bookseller of England, and whose shrewdness and wit stood the test so admirably, that he is reported never to have issued a bad book, was also, at about the same period, an author of some consideration. Contemporary with him, we find the name of the learned linguist and bibliopolist Samuel Smith, the appointed bookseller to the Royal Society; and Thomas Guy, the founder of "Guy's Hospital" (whose munificence and philanthropy have immortalized his name, and often invoked the blessing of suffering humanity), was originally, it will be remembered, a bookseller. John Bagford, an industrious antiquarian bookseller, who lived to the early part of the eighteenth century, was the author of the Collectanea, bearing his name, contained in the Harleian MSS. of the British Museum. The Tonsons were a race of booksellers who did honor to their profession for integrity, and by their encouragement of authors. Malone published several letters from Dryden to Tonson, and Tonson to Dryden. Tonson displays the tradesman, acknowledging the receipt of the Translations of Ovid, which he had received for the third Miscellany, with which he was pleased, but not with the price, having only one thousand four hundred and forty-six lines for fifty guineas, when he expected to have had one thousand five hundred and eighteen lines for forty guineas; adding that he had a better bargain with Juvenal, which is reckoned not so easy to translate as Ovid. Most of the other letters relate to the translation of Virgil, and contain repeated acknowledgments of Tonson's kind attentions. "I thank you heartily," he says, "for the sherry; it was the best of the kind I ever drank." The current coin was at that period wretchedly debased. one letter Dryden says, "I expect forty pounds in good silver, not such as I had formerly. I am not obliged to take gold, neither will I, nor stay for it above four and twenty hours after it is due." In 1698, when Dryden published his Fables, Tonson agreed to give him two hundred and sixty-eight pounds for ten thousand verses; and to complete the full number of lines stipulated, he gave the bookseller the Epistle to his Cousin, and the celebrated Ode. In Lintot, Pope's publisher, was also an author: not to |