es, briefly descriptive of their value; a circumstance
seldom observable in these early attempts at bibliography.

In taking leave of Durham library, need I say that the bibliomaniacs who
flourished there in the olden time, not only collected their books with
so much industry, but knew well how to use them too. The reader is
doubtless aware how many learned men dwelled in monkish time within those
ancient walls; and if he is inquisitive about such things has often
enjoyed a few hours of pleasant chat over the historic pages of Symeon of
Durham,[211] Turgot and Wessington,[212] and has often heard of brothers
Lawrence,[213] Reginald,[214] and Bolton; but although unheeded now, many
a monkish bookworm, glorying in the strict observance of Christian
humility, and so unknown to fame, lies buried beneath that splendid
edifice, as many monuments and funeral tablets testify and speak in high
favor of the great men of Durham. If the reader should perchance to
wander near that place, his eye will be attracted by many of these
memorials of the dead; and a few hours spent in exploring them will serve
to gain many additional facts to his antiquarian lore, and perhaps even
something better too. For I know not a more suitable place, as far as
outward circumstances are concerned, than an old sanctuary of God to
prepare the mind and lead it to think of death and immortality. We read
the names of great men long gone; of wealthy worldlings, whose fortunes
have long been spent; of ambitious statesmen and doughty warriors, whose
glory is fast fading as their costly mausoleums crumble in the hands of
time, and whose stone tablets, green with the lichens' hue, manifest how
futile it is to hope to gain immortality from stone, or purchase fame by
the cold marble trophies of pompous grief; not that on their glassy
surface the truth is always faithfully mirrored forth, even when the
thoughts of holy men composed the eulogy; the tombs of old knew as well
how to lie as now, and even ascetic monks could become too warm in their
praises of departed worth; for whilst they blamed the great man living,
with Christian charity they thought only of his virtues when they had
nothing but his body left, and murmured long prayers, said tedious
masses, and kept midnight vigils for his soul. For had he not shown his
love to God by his munificence to His Church on earth? _Benedicite_,
saith the monks.

FOOTNOTES:

[153] Bede's Eccles. Hist., B. iii. c. xvi.