, I met with several of these _amateurs_, who had
bounded their lives by the circle of their collections, and were rarely
seen out of them. The late Duke of ROXBURGH once expressed his delight to
a literary friend of mine, that he had only to step from his sleeping
apartment into his fine library; so that he could command, at all moments,
the gratification of pursuing his researches while he indulged his
reveries. The Chevalier VERHULST, of Bruxelles, of whom we have a curious
portrait prefixed to the catalogue of his pictures and curiosities, was
one of those men of letters who experienced this strong affection for his
collections, and to such a degree, that he never went out of his house for
twenty years; where, however, he kept up a courteous intercourse with the
lovers of art and literature. He was an enthusiastic votary of Rubens, of
whom he has written a copious life in Dutch, the only work he appears to
have composed.]

It was fancifully said of one of these lovers, in the style of the age,
that, "His book was his bride, and his study his bride-chamber." Many
have voluntarily relinquished a public station and their rank in
society, neglecting even their fortune and their health, for the life of
self-oblivion of the man of letters. Count DE CAYLUS expended a princely
income in the study and the encouragement of Art. He passed his mornings
among the studios of artists, watching their progress, increasing his
collections, and closing his day in the retirement of his own cabinet. His
rank and his opulence were no obstructions to his settled habits. CICERO
himself, in his happier moments, addressing ATTICUS, exclaimed--"I had
much rather be sitting on your little bench under Aristotle's picture,
than in the curule chairs of our great ones." This wish was probably
sincere, and reminds us of another great politician who in his secession
from public affairs retreated to a literary life, where he appears
suddenly to have discovered a new-found world. Fox's favourite line, which
he often repeated, was--

How various his employments whom the world
Calls idle!

De Sacy, one of the Port-Royalists, was fond of repeating this lively
remark of a man of wit--"That all the mischief in the world comes from not
being able to keep ourselves quiet in our room."

But tranquillity is essential to the existence of the man of letters--an
unbroken and devotional tranquillity. For though, unlike the author, his
occupations are inter