His face was certainly overcast with anxiety, but his soul was calm and resolute. Having lit his fire, he placed his candle on the table, and, leaning back for a moment in his chair, while the flickering increasing light of his crackling fire and candle revealed to him, with a sense of snugness, his shelves crammed with books, and the windows covered with an ample crimson curtain, effectually excluding the chill morning air — he reflected with a heavy sigh upon the precarious tenure by which he held the little comforts that were left to him. Oh! — thought he — if heaven were but to relieve me from the frightful pressure of liability under which i am bound to the earth, what labor, what privation would I repine at! What gladness would not spring up in my heart!

For these men devoted to writing, the library was at once the celestial Jerusalem and an underground world on the border between terra incognita and Hades. They were dominated by the library, by its promises and by its prohibitions. They lived with it, for it, and perhaps against it, sinfully hoping one day to violate all its secrets.

To see men wholly led by affection, admired and censured out of opinion without judgment: an inconsiderate multitude, like so many dogs in a village, if one bark, all bark without a cause: as fortune’s fan turns, if one man be in favour, or commended by some great one, all the world applauds him; if in disgrace, in an instant all hate him, and as at the sun when he is eclipsed, that erstwhile took no notice, now gaze and state upon him.

They are universally considered to be the finest ever bred in England, and are now in a most thriving condition.