stiff drawing-room into the nursery, snubbed to be sure by the act, but joyful in the freedom of banishment. We were going to say (but it might sound vainglorious), where do things read so well as in notes? but we will

put the question in another form:-Where do you so well test an author's learning and knowledge of his subject?-where do you find the pith of his most elaborate researches? where do his most original suggestions escape? -where do you meet with the details that fix your attention at the time and cling to your memory for ever?—where do both writer and reader luxuriate so much at their ease, and feel that they are wisely discursive? But if we pursue this idea, it will be scarcely possible to avoid something which might look like self-praise; and we content ourselves for the present with expressing our humble conviction that we are doing a service to writers and readers, by calling forth materials which they have themselves thought worth notice, but which, for want of elaboration, and the "little leisure" that has not yet come, are lying, and may lie for ever, unnoticed by others, and presenting them in an unadorned multum-in-parvo form. To our readers therefore who are seeking for Truth, we repeat "When found make a NOTE of!" and we must add, "till then make a QUERY."

PLACE OF CAPTURE OF THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH.

20th October, 1849.

of that bright and living reality, which, in the account of Sedgemoor, and in many other parts of the book, are imparted by minute particularity and precise local knowledge. It runs as follows:

Portman

failed. They were therefore turned loose. The "On Cranbourne Chase the strength of the horses bridles and saddles were concealed. Monmouth and his friends disguised themselves as countrymen, and proceeded on foot towards the New Forest. They passed the night in the open air: but before morning they were surrounded on every side. . . . At five in the morning of the seventh, could hardly be doubted that the chief rebel was Grey was seized by two of Lumley's scouts ... It not far off. The pursuers redoubled their vigilance and activity. The cottages scattered over the heathy country on the boundaries of DorsetLumley; and the clown with whom Monmouth shire and Hampshire were strictly examined by had changed clothes was discovered. came with a strong body of horse and foot to assist in the search. Attention was soon drawn to a place well suited to shelter fugitives. It was an extensive tract of land separated by an inclo sure from the open country, and divided by nufields the rye, the pease, and the oats were high merous hedges into small fields. In some of these enough to conceal a man. Others were overgrown by fern and brambles. A poor woman reported that she had seen two strangers lurking in this covert. The near prospect of reward animated the zeal of the troops. . . The outer fence was strictly guarded: the space within was examined with indefatigable diligence: and several dogs of The day closed before the search could be comquick scent were turned out among the bushes. pleted: but careful watch was kept all night. Thirty times the fugitives ventured to look through the outer hedge: but everywhere they found a sentinel on the alert: once they were seen and fired at: they then separated and concealed themselves in different hiding places.

The

of hunger, a watch, a purse of gold, a small treatise on fortification, an album filled with songs, receipts, prayers, and charms, and the George with which, many years before, King Charles the Second had decorated his favourite son."- Hist. Eng., i. pp. 616-618. 2nd edition.

Now, this is all extremely admirable. It is a brilliant description of an important historical incident. But on what precise spot did it take place? One would like to endeavour to realise such an event at the very place

where it occurred, and the historian should enable us to do so. I believe the spot is very well known, and that the traditions of the neighbourhood upon the subject are still vivid. It was near Woodyate's Inn, a well-known roadside inn, a few miles from Salisbury, on the road to Blandford, that the Duke and his companions turned adrift their horses. From thence they crossed the country in almost a due southerly direction. The tract of land in which the Duke took refuge is rightly described by Mr. Macaulay, as "separated by an inclosure from the open country." Its nature is no less clearly indicated by its local name of "The Island." The open down which surrounds it is called Shag's Heath. The Island is described as being about a mile and a half from Woodlands, and in the parish of Horton, in Dorsetshire. The field in which the Duke concealed himself is still called "Monmouth Close." It is at the north-eastern extremity of the Island. An ash-tree at the foot of which the would-be-king was found crouching in a ditch and half hid under the fern, was standing a few years ago, and was deeply indented with the carved initials of crowds of persons who had been to visit it. Mr. Macaulay has mentioned that the fields were covered-it was the eighth of July with standing crops of rye, pease, and oats. In one of them, a field of pease, tradition tells us that the Duke dropped a gold snuff-box. It was picked up some time afterwards by a labourer, who carried it to Mrs. Uvedale of Horton, probably the proprietress of the field, and received in reward fifteen pounds, which was said to be half its value. On his capture, the Duke was first taken to the house of Anthony Etterick, Esq., a magistrate who resided at Holt, which adjoins Horton. Tradition, which records the popular feeling rather than the fact, reports, that the poor woman who informed the pursuers that

-

she had seen two strangers lurking in the Island her name was Amy Farrant- never prospered afterwards; and that Henry Parkin, the soldier, who, spying the skirt of the smockfrock which the Duke had assumed as a disguise, recalled the searching party just as they were leaving the Island, burst into tears and reproached himself' bitterly for his fatal discovery.

It is a defect in the Ordnance Survey, that neither the Island nor Monmouth Close is indicated upon it by name.

I know not, Mr. Editor, whether these particulars are of the kind which you design to print as "NOTES." If they are so, and you give them place in your miscellany, be good enough to add a "QUERY" addressed to your Dorsetshire correspondents, as to whether the ash-tree is now standing, and what is the actual condition of the spot at the present time. The facts I have stated are partly derived from the book known as Addison's Anecdotes, vol. iv., p. 12. 1794, 8vo. They have been used, more or less, by the late Rev. P. Hall, in his Account of Ringwood, and by Mr. Roberts, in his Life of Monmouth. With the best of good wishes for the success of your most useful periodical, Believe me, Mr. Editor, Yours very truly,

JOHN BRUCE.

SHAKESPEARE AND DEER-STEALING.

In "The Life of Shakespeare," prefixed to the edition of his Works I saw through the press three or four years ago, I necessarily entered into the deer-stealing question, admitting that I could not, as some had done, "entirely discredit the story," and following it up by proof (in opposition to the assertion of Malone), that Sir Thomas Lucy had deer, which Shakespeare might have been concerned in stealing. I also, in the same place (vol. i. p. xcv.), showed, from several authorities, how common and how venial offence it was considered in the middle of the reign of Elizabeth. Looking over some MSS. of that time, a few weeks since, I met with a very singular and confirmatory piece of evidence, establishing that in the year 1585, the precise period when our great dramatist is supposed to have made free with the deer of

NEW EDITION OF HERBERT'S "AMES." [The suggestions in the following Paper are so extremely valuable, that we are not only pleased to give it insertion, but hope that our readers will take advantage of our columns to carry out Dr. Maitland's recommendations.]

Sir,- My attention has been particularly engaged by one suggestion in your Prospectus, because it seems to hold out a hope that your intended work will furnish what has long been a desideratum in literature. We really do want something that may form a "supple ment to works already in existence-a treasury for enriching future editions of them;" while it may also receive (as I have no doubt you meant to include,) such contributions of moderate extent, as may tend to render fuller and more correct some works which have little or no chance of future editions. In this way you may be of great use in every department of literature; and especially in works of reference. With them, indeed, correctness is everything; perfect accuracy is not to be attained, and the nearest possible approximation to it can be made only by many little careful steps, backwards as well as forwards.

By works of reference, however, I do not mean Dictionaries, though I would include them, as a class of works for which I have a singular respect, and to which my remark particularly applies. There are many other books, and some which very properly aspire to the title of History, which are, in fact and practically, books of reference, and of little value if they have not the completeness and accuracy which should characterise that class of works. Now it frequently happens to people whose reading is at all discursive, that they incidentally fall upon small matters of correction or criticism, which are of little value to themselves, but would be very useful to those who are otherwise engaged, if they knew of their existence.

I might perhaps illustrate this matter by referring to various works; but it happens to be more in my way to mention Herbert's edition of Ames's Typographical Antiquities. It may be hoped that, some day or other, the valuable matter of which it consists will be reduced to a better form and method; for it seems hardly too much to say, that he appears to have adopted the very worst that could

have been selected. I need not tell you that I have no idea of undertaking such a thing, and I really have no suspicion (I wish I had) that anybody else is thinking of doing it :— or, in other words, I am not attempting to make use of your columns by insinuating a preparatory puff for a work in progress, or even in contemplation. I only mention the book as one of a class which may be essentially benefited by your offering a receptacle for illustrations, additions, and corrections, such as individually, or in small collections, are of little or no value, and are frequently almost in the very opposite condition to those things which are of no value to any body but the owner. For instance, when I was in the habit of seeing many of the books noted by Herbert, and had his volumes lying beside me, I made hundreds, perhaps thousands, of petty corrections, and many from books which he had not had an opportunity of seeing, and of which he could only reprint incorrect descriptions. All of these, though trifling in themselves, are things which should be noticed in case of a reprint; but how much time and trouble would it cost an editor to find and collate the necessary books? That, to be sure, is his business; but the question for the public is, Would it be done at all? and could it in such cases be done so well in any other way, as by appointing some place of rendezvous for the casual and incidental materials for improvement which may fall in the way of readers pursuing different lines of inquiry, and rewarded, as men in pursuit of truth always are, whatever may be their success as to their immediate object, by finding more than they are looking for-things, too, which when they get into their right places, show that they were worth finding-and, perhaps, unknown to those more conversant with the subject to which they belong, just because they were in the out-of-the-way place where they were found by somebody who was looking for something else. S. R. MAITLAND.

A FLEMISH ACCOUNT.

T. B. M. will be obliged by references to any early instances of the use of the expression "a Flemish account," and of any explanation as to its origin and primary signification.

A BIBLIOGRAPHIC PROJECT. Of the various sections into which the history of English literature is divisible, there is no one in which the absence of collective materials is more seriously felt-no one in which we are more in need of authentic notes, or which is more apt to raise perplexing queries than that which relates to the authorship of anonymous and pseudonymous works.

The importance of the inquiry is not inferior to the ardour with which it has sometimes been pursued, or the curiosity which it has excited. On all questions of testimony, whether historical or scientific, it is a consideration of the position and character of the writer which chiefly enables us to decide on the credibility of his statements, to account for the bias of his opinions, and to estimate his entire evidence at its just value. remark also applies, in a qualified sense, to productions of an imaginative nature.

The

On the number of the works of this class, I can only hazard a conjecture. In French literature, it amounts to about one-third part of the whole mass. In English literature, it cannot be less than one-sixth part-perhaps more. Be it as it may, the SYSTEMATIC ARRANGEMENT of all that has been revealed in that way, and of all that is discoverable, is essential to the perfection of literary history, of literary biography, and of bibliography.

At the present moment, I can only announce the project as a stimulus to unemployed aspirants, and as a hint to fortunate collectors, to prepare for an exhibition of their cryptic treasures. On a future occasion I shall describe the plan of construction which seems most eligible-shall briefly notice the scattered materials which it may be expedient to consult, whether in public depositories, or in private hands—and shall make an appeal to those whose assistance may be required, to enable a competent editor to carry out the plan with credit and success.

On the prevalence of anonymous writing, on its occasional convenience, and on its pernicious consequences, I shall make no remarks. Facts, rather than arguments, should be the staple commodity of an instructive miscellany. BOLTON CORNEY.

Barnes Terrace, Surrey, 29th Oct., 1849.

NOTES FROM FLY-LEAVES.NO. I.

Many scholars and reading-men are in the habit of noting down on the fly-leaves of their books memoranda, sometimes critical, sometimes bibliographical, the result of their own knowledge or research. The following are specimens of the kind of Notes to which we allude; and the possessors of volumes enriched by the Notes and memoranda of men of learning to whom they formerly belonged, will render us and our readers a most acceptable service by forwarding to us copies of them for insertion.

Douce on John of Salisbury. MS. Note in a copy of Policraticus, Lug. Bat. 1639. "This extraordinary man flourished in the reign of Henry II., and was, therefore, of Old Salisbury, not of New Salisbury, which was not founded till the reign of Henry III. Having had the best education of the time, and being not only a genius, but intimate with the most eminent men, in particular with Pope Hadrian (who was himself an Englishman), he became at length a bishop, and died in 1182. He had perused and studied most of the Latin classics, and appears to have decorated every part of his work with splendid fragments extracted out of them." - Harris's Philosophical Arrangements, p. 457.

See more relating to John of Salisbury in Fabricii, Bib. Med. Ætatis, iv. 380.; in Tanner,

Biblioth. Britannico Hibernica; in Baillet's

Jugemens des Savans, ii. 204. See Senebier, Catalogue des Manuscrits de Genève, p. 226. Johannes Sarisb. multa ex Apuleio desumpsit," Almelooven, Plagiaror. Syllab. 36.; and it might have been justly added, that he borrowed from Petronius. See the references I have made on the last leaf.

Janus Dousa, in his Notes on Petronius, had called John of Salisbury "Cornicula; but Thomasius, in p. 240 of his work, De Plagio Literario, vindicates him satisfactorily. See Lipp. ad. Tacit. Annal XII. (pezzi di porpora), not noticed by any editor of Petronius. Has various readings. See my old

edition.