out of his
native city but once in his lifetime, when the plague drove him from
home, his field of action was so restricted, that we can hardly conclude
that he could have been so great an enterpriser in this way. No one can
have lost their character by this sort of exercise in a confined circle,
and be allowed to prosper! A light-fingered Mercury would hardly haunt
the same spot: however, this is as it may be! It is probable that we owe
to this species of accumulation many precious manuscripts in the
Cottonian collection. It appears by the manuscript note-book of Sir
Nicholas Hyde, chief justice of the King's Bench from the second to the
seventh year of Charles the First, that Sir Robert Cotton had in his
library, records, evidences, ledger-books, original letters, and other
state papers, belonging to the king; for the attorney-general of that
time, to prove this, showed a copy of the _pardon_ which Sir Robert had
obtained from King James for _embezzling records_, &c.[222]

Gough has more than insinuated that Rawlinson and his friend Umfreville
"lie under very strong suspicions;" and he asserts that the collector of
the Wilton treasures made as free as Dr. Willis with his friend's
coins.[223] But he has also put forth a declaration relating to Bishop
More, the famous collector, that "the bishop collected his library by
_plundering_ those of the clergy in his diocese; some he paid with
sermons or more modern books; others, less civilly, only with a _quid
illiterati cum libris?_" This _plundering_ then consisted rather of
_cajoling_ others out of what they knew not how to value; and this is an
advantage which every skilful lover of books must enjoy over those whose
apprenticeship has not expired. I have myself been plundered by a very
dear friend of some such literary curiosities, in the days of my
innocence and of his precocity of knowledge. However, it does appear
that Bishop More did actually lay violent hands in a snug corner on some
irresistible little charmer; which we gather from a precaution adopted
by a friend of the bishop, who one day was found busy in _hiding his
rarest books_, and locking up as many as he could. On being asked the
reason of this odd occupation, the bibliopolist ingenuously replied,
"The Bishop of Ely dines with me to-day." This fact is quite clear, and
here is another as indisputable. Sir Robert Saville writing to Sir
Robert Cotton, appointing an interview with the founder of the Bodleian
Li