or ancient tongues is, of course, that he may be able to read the books written in them, and thus obtain access to worlds of intellectual treasure, from which he would be otherwise entirely, or almost entirely, shut out; for no satisfactory knowledge of any foreign literature is to be acquired through translations. Of many works, translations do not exist, or are not accessible, when the original is; and of many there can be no adequate translation. The man whose knowledge of the literature of another age or country is confined to translations, is in the situation of the untravelled reader, who may indeed learn something of foreign lands from the descriptions of those who have visited them; but a person familiar with the language of another people has that sort of access to their literature, which he would have to the general knowledge of their country and their manners who was in possession of one of the talismans of Eastern fiction, by which he could transport himself thither at a wish.

Perhaps the greatest reader that ever lived was the famous ANTONIO MAGLIA BECCHI, of whose latinized name, Antonius Magliabbechius, some one formed the anagram, Is unus bibliotheca magna-Himself a great library. He was born at Florence in 1633, and, according to one account, commenced his career as a scholar in a very curious manner; for hav

ing, it is affirmed, been apprenticed by his parents, who were extremely poor, to a seller of pot-herbs, he used to take the greatest delight, although he could not read a word, in poring over the leaves of old books in which his master wrapt his commodities; till, having been one day observed at this sort of study by a bookseller who lived in the neighbourhood, that person offered to take him into his service. The proposal was instantly accepted by Magliabecchi, who could conceive no greater happiness than an occupation which would surround him with his beloved books. So keen, it is added, was the interest which he took in his new employment, that in two or three days he knew the place of every volume in the shop, and could find any one, when asked for, more readily than his master himself. After a short time he had learnt to read; and then every moment of his leisure was devoted to this new pleasure. Such is the story which Mr. Spence has told us, on the authority, as he states, of a Florentine gentleman well acquainted with Magliabecchi and his family. The Italian writer Marmi, however, who, having been librarian to the Grand Duke of Florence, was for many years an intimate friend of Magliabecchi, has, in a life which he has written of him, given a different account of his early years. His mother,

according to Marmi, had him instructed both in the art of design and in Latin when he was a boy, after which she apprenticed him to a goldsmith. Whether his master was a goldsmith or a bookseller, it is agreed on all hands that during the time of his apprenticeship Magliabecchi had already begun those extraordinary acquisitions which made him at length the most learned man of his age. The fame of his ardour for study, and extensive knowledge, at length procured him the notice of some of the Florentine literati; and having been introduced at court, he was appointed by the Grand Duke keeper of one of his libraries. In this situation he remained till his death, in 1714, at the age of eighty

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Many wonderful stories are told of the extensive reading and retentive memory of Magliabecchi. It has been said, among other things, that manuscript of a work of some length, which at the request of the author he had read, having been accidentally lost, was actually recovered by being taken down from his recitation. This, however, as Mr. Spence observes, is doubtless a very wild exaggeration: it amounts, evidently, if true, to nothing less than a proof that Magliabecchi's memory was such as to retain everything, without exception, to which his attention was ever called. But of

what he read really worth recollecting, he undoubtedly recollected a great deal. He was, indeed, a library of reference upon all sorts of subjects for the other literary men of his time, who were wont to apply to him whenever they wanted to know what had been already written upon any matter which they were engaged in studying or discussing. Two volumes of the Letters of the Learned to Magliabecchi were published at Florence in 1745, and they form but a small part of those that were addressed to him during his long life, from every part of Europe, by persons who wished to avail themselves of the aid of his universal learning. Upon almost any subject, we are told, on which he was consulted, he could not only state what any particular author had said of it, but in many cases could quote the very words employed, naming, at the same time, the volume, the page, and the column in which they were to be found. Authors and printers were generally wont to send him all the works which they published-a sure method, if they contained anything valuable, of getting them, as it were, advertised over the world of letters, since literary men were everywhere in communication with Magliabecchi; and he would not fail, if the new book deserved his recommendation, to mention its merits to such of his correspondents as it was likely to interest.

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method of reading, by which he contrived to get over a great many volumes in little time, and which every person will be in some degree able to understand who has been much in the habit of looking over new books. His way, we are told, was to look first to the title-p e-page, then to dip into the preface, dedication, or other preliminary matter, and, finally, to go over the divisions chapters; after which, being so completely in possession, as he was, of all that former writers had said upon the subject treated of, he had a competent general notion of the contents of the new work. Of course, if this cursory inspection gave him reason to believe that there was in any part of it matter really new and important, he would examine it more particularly before he laid it down. At all events, it is certain that, although thus expeditiously acquired, his knowledge was the very reverse of superficial.

The reverence with which he was regarded by the greatest scholars of his time proves this. The dexterity, if we may so call it, which he attained in the art of acquiring such knowledge as can be communicated by books, was in great part the result of the exclusiveness with which he devoted his life to that object. He might be said literally to live in his library; for in fact he both slept and

of his books. Three hard eggs and a draught of water formed his common repast; and a sort of cradle, which he had made for the purpose, served him both for his elbow-chair during the day, and for a bed at night. He never travelled more than a few miles from Florence; but all the great libraries in the world were, nevertheless, nearly as well known to him as his own. 'One day,' says Mr. Spence, 'the Grand Duke sent for him, after he was his librarian, to ask him whether he could get for him a book which was particularly scarce. "No, sir," answered Magliabecchi, "it is impossible, for there is but one in the world; that is in the Grand Seignior's library at Constantinople, and is the seventh book on the second shelf, on the right hand as you go in."' This is not to be taken as a proof of the extraordinary memory of Magliabecchi, for the book in question being a remarkable one, it is not at all wonderful that the circumstance which, in point of fact, principally made it so should have been distinctly remembered by him; but the familiar style in which he alludes to the localities of the Sultan's library shows the hold that everything about it had taken of his fancy, and how entirely books were his world.

We are too apt, perhaps, to underrate Magliabecchi as a mere helluo librorum, or book