ires d'une grande
Bibliotheque_, of a picture of the domestic life of the French people from
their earliest periods, the subject broke upon him like a vision; it had
novelty, amusement, and curiosity: "_le sujet m'en parut neuf, riche et
piquant_." He revelled amid the scenes of their architecture, the interior
decorations of their houses, their changeable dress, their games, and
recreations; in a word, on all the parts which were most adapted to amuse
the fancy. But when he came to compose the more detailed work, the fairy
scene faded in the length, the repetition, and the never-ending labour and
weariness; and the three volumes which we now possess, instead of sports,
dresses, and architecture, exhibit only a very curious, but not always a
very amusing, account of the food of the French nation.

No one has more fully poured out his vexation of spirit--he may excite a
smile in those who have never experienced this toil of books and
manuscripts--but he claims the sympathy of those who would discharge their
public duties so faithfully to the public. I shall preserve a striking
picture of these thousand task-works, coloured by the literary pangs of
the voluminous author, who is doomed never to finish his curious work:--

"Endowed with a courage at all proofs, with health which, till then, was
unaltered, and which excess of labour has greatly changed, I devoted
myself to write the lives of the learned of the sixteenth century.
Renouncing all kinds of pleasure, working ten to twelve hours a-day,
extracting, ceaselessly copying; after this sad life I now wished to draw
breath, turn over what I had amassed, and arrange it. I found myself
possessed of many thousands of _bulletins_, of which the longest did not
exceed many lines. At the sight of this frightful chaos, from which I was
to form a regular history, I must confess that I shuddered; I felt myself
for some time in a _stupor and depression of spirits_; and now actually
that I have finished this work, _I cannot endure the recollection of that
moment of alarm without a feeling of involuntary terror._ What a business
is this, good God, of a compiler! In truth, it is too much condemned; it
merits some regard. At length I regained courage; I returned to my
researches: I have completed my plan, though every day I was forced to
_add_, to _correct_, to _change my facts as well as my ideas_; SIX times
has my hand _re-copied my work_; and, however fatiguing this may be, it
certai