Sunday, 27 September 2026

The Life and Times of the Kings and Queens of England series

The series, The Life and Times of the Kings and Queens of England, edited by Antonia Fraser, was established in 1972. It was first published by Weidenfeld [and] Nicolson, and reprinted by Book Club Associates, London.

It took a suprising amount on time (hours—plural) wrestling with Google, Library Thing, and ChatGPT, to get a satisfactory answer to the simple question of "how many volumes are there in this series?" (For details of why this was so hard, see my postscript below.) Consistent with other posts on this blog, having finally got my answer, I thought I'd post the resulting research to save others from the hassle of duplicating my efforts.

The answer is: there were a total of 31 volumes in the series The Life and Times of the Kings and Queens of England: 25 volumes in what I will call the First Series, from 1972–74, and another six volumes in what I will call the Second Series, from 1980–81. These are listed below in monarch order.
In 1976, Fraser prepared a single volume, under the ttle The Lives of the Kings and Queens of England, which covers all the monarchs, including those omitted in the series (this is the fat volume, second from the right, in the first image above). If this was a first attempt at a sop to the completists, it clearly was not enough, since in 1980 the series was restarted (or, rather, Weidenfeld and Nicolson expanded the series with their Kings and Queens of England, in matching bindings, so completists could fill some gaps), but the demand for the missing monarchs must have been slight since the series faltered after only six volumes.
Since the quarto volumes have matching spines, are well illustrated, and were once quite common, they were a tempting collecting target. Even if you were only really interested in one era of history, you would easilly, inadvertently accumulate two or three volumes—which you might be tempted to shelve together, at which point you were doomed. Before you know it you might find yourself accumulating more volumes, and then start actively looking for all of the monarchs in your era, or all eras. If you look on eBay (*), you will see the resulting more-or-less complete collections which illustrate this post.

(*) I.e., here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.
If you have landed here on this page because you are on the edge of this collecting precipice: stop while you can! The First Series is not complete—it does not cover all monarchs—and the Second Series does not complete it. The First includes, for instance, George I and George III (both of which I have had), but not George II (which I wanted)—and there is no George II in the Second Series. There are plenty of other monarchs ommitted too, frustrating the would-be completist. (When I discovered that there was no George II, I was so annoyed that I disposed of my George I and George II volumes.)

* * * * *

Series 1, twenty-five volumes (1972–74)

1. Alfred the Great, Douglas Woodruff (1974)
2. William I, Maurice Ashley (1973)
3. Richard I, John Gillingham (1973)
4. King John, Maurice Ashley (1972)
5. Edward II, Caroline Bingham (1973)
6. Edward III, Paul Johnson (1973)
7. Henry V, Peter Earle (1972)
8. Richard III, Anthony Cheetham (1972)
9. Henry VII, Neville Williams (1973)
10. Henry VIII, Robert Lacey (1972)
11. Mary Tudor, Jasper Ridley (1973)
12. Elizabeth I, Neville Williams (1972)
13. King James, Antonia Fraser (1974)
14. Charles I, D. R. Watson (1972)
15. Charles II, Christopher Falkus (1972)
16. James II, Peter Earle (1972)
17. William and Mary, John Miller (1974)
18. Queen Anne, Gila Curtis (1972)
19. George I, Joyce Marlow (1973)
20. George III, John Clarke (1972)
21. George IV, Alan Palmer (1972)
22. Victoria, Dorothy Marshall (1972)
23. Edward VII, Keith Middlemas (1973)
24. George V, Denis Judd (1973)
25. George VI, Keith Middlemas (1974)

Series 2, six volumes (1980–81)

26. The Saxon Kings, Richard Humble (1980)
27. The Norman Kings, James Chambers (1981)
28. Edward I, John Chancellor (1981)
29. Richard II, Michael Senior (1981)
30. Edward IV, Gila Falkus (1981)
31. William IV, Anne Somerset (1980)

Since numbers 26 and 27 duplicate (in part) numbers 1 and 2, these can't really be intersorted above, so the ideal shelf arrangement of the series woud probably be as follows:

26* The Saxon Kings, Richard Humble (1980)
1. Alfred the Great, Douglas Woodruff (1974)
2. William I, Maurice Ashley (1973)
27* The Norman Kings, James Chambers (1981)
3. Richard I, John Gillingham (1973)
4. King John, Maurice Ashley (1972)
28* Edward I, John Chancellor (1981)
5. Edward II, Caroline Bingham (1973)
6. Edward III, Paul Johnson (1973)
29* Richard II, Michael Senior (1981)
7. Henry V, Peter Earle (1972)
30* Edward IV, Gila Falkus (1981)
8. Richard III, Anthony Cheetham (1972)
9. Henry VII, Neville Williams (1973)
10. Henry VIII, Robert Lacey (1972)
11. Mary Tudor, Jasper Ridley (1973)
12. Elizabeth I, Neville Williams (1972)
13. King James, Antonia Fraser (1974)
14. Charles I, D. R. Watson (1972)
15. Charles II, Christopher Falkus (1972)
16. James II, Peter Earle (1972)
17. William and Mary, John Miller (1974)
18. Queen Anne, Gila Curtis (1972)
19. George I, Joyce Marlow (1973)
20. George III, John Clarke (1972)
21. George IV, Alan Palmer (1972)
31* William IV, Anne Somerset (1980)
22. Victoria, Dorothy Marshall (1972)
23. Edward VII, Keith Middlemas (1973)
24. George V, Denis Judd (1973)
25. George VI, Keith Middlemas (1974)

Alternatively, you could re-number the series as follows:

1. The Saxon Kings, Richard Humble (1980)
2. Alfred the Great, Douglas Woodruff (1974)
3. William I, Maurice Ashley (1973)
4. The Norman Kings, James Chambers (1981)
5. Richard I, John Gillingham (1973)
6. King John, Maurice Ashley (1972)
7. Edward I, John Chancellor (1981)
8. Edward II, Caroline Bingham (1973)
9. Edward III, Paul Johnson (1973)
10. Richard II, Michael Senior (1981)
11. Henry V, Peter Earle (1972)
12. Edward IV, Gila Falkus (1981)
13. Richard III, Anthony Cheetham (1972)
14. Henry VII, Neville Williams (1973)
15. Henry VIII, Robert Lacey (1972)
16. Mary Tudor, Jasper Ridley (1973)
17. Elizabeth I, Neville Williams (1972)
18. King James, Antonia Fraser (1974)
19. Charles I, D. R. Watson (1972)
20. Charles II, Christopher Falkus (1972)
21. James II, Peter Earle (1972)
22. William and Mary, John Miller (1974)
23. Queen Anne, Gila Curtis (1972)
24. George I, Joyce Marlow (1973)
25. George III, John Clarke (1972)
26. George IV, Alan Palmer (1972)
27. William IV, Anne Somerset (1980)
28. Victoria, Dorothy Marshall (1972)
29. Edward VII, Keith Middlemas (1973)
30. George V, Denis Judd (1973)
31. George VI, Keith Middlemas (1974)

Postscript: the volumes themselves do not seem to contain a series title or a list of other volumes in the series, and I was unable to find any advertisement for the series, or any series listing online. Library Thing lists Fraser's one-volume work, and her Introduction or Editorship for only five volumes in the series; it seperately lists (as a Publisher Series) "Kings and queens of England: Weidenfeld and Nicolson" here, in which it conflates what I have called Series 1 and Series 2, and duplicates Charles II by mistakenly including Fraser's 1979 biography as part of the series to get a total of 32 volumes (in the conflated and mistitled series). The various and incompatible claims for "complete" collections on eBay add to the confusion. If there are better collecting resources online, I didn't find them, but if anyone points them out for me, I will add links below—or corrections above if I have messed up anything here.

Sunday, 20 September 2026

Dorothy Furman, collector of books and bookplates

Dorothy Furman (fl. 1895–1926), was a well-connected bibliophile, a staff member at the New York Times Literary Review (writing bookish-reviews and book-auction reports in the late 1890s) and was later a book dealer. She built an extensive collection of rare books, mostly first editions (but including treasures such as a fourth folio of Shakespeare's works) and bookplates—being a customer, if not a patron of sorts, to a number of bookplate artists, and corresponding widely within a community of bibliophiles.
Furman was a member of The Bibliographical Society (UK) from 1895–1917 (see here), appears in the Almanach du bibliophile pour l'année 1898 (here), was a Member of the Ex Libris Society in 1895 and 1900 (see here and here); the Bibliographical Society of America in (at least) 1905 and 1908 (see here), the American Bookplate Society in 1913 and 1918 (see here and here), and the Grolier Club in 1914.

Female members of these bibliographical and book-collecting societies were not common. In the fifty years between 1892 and 1942 The Bibliographical Society had approximately nine hundred UK members and four hundred and fifty US members (see cumulative member list here). Of these, there are 17 (UK) and 13 (US) with a "Mrs" prefix and 25 (UK) and 18 UK with "Miss"; that is, a total of 73 female members, or approximately five percent.

Given the rarity of bibliographicaly-inclined female book collectors in this period, and the significance of her bookplate collecting, it is suprising that there is so little information about Furman available online. Having just bought her copy of J. Roger Rees, The Brotherhood of Letters (New York: Lockwood and Coombes, 1889), I did some digging and am posting what I found here to save other collectors the trouble, and perhaps enable them to carry this research forward—something that can probably only be done in situ in New York.

Why New York? Well, Furman lived at a commuting distance from New York for at least two decades. Her reported addresses being 35 State Street, Flushing, Long Island, NY (1898–1905; see Almanach du bibliophile pour l'année 1898 and Ex Libris Society link above); 58 Clark Street, Glen Ridge, NJ (1905–8; see here); and 6 De Hart Street, Morristown, New Jersey (1913 and 1918; see American Bookplate Society links above), opening a bookshop there in 1919 (see here): The Publishers Weekly reporting: "Morristown, N. J.—Miss Dorothy Furman has opened a bookshop at 6 De Hart street, specializing in old, rare and current books, association copies and autographs."

The Walpole Galleries in New York sold at auction collections of her Modern First Editions in July 1920 (advertised in The New York Times on 29 and June 1920 here and here), bookplates and books on bookplates in September and November 1923 (see here and here), and China, Glass, Brass, Prints, Furniture, Pewter Objects of Art, Etc. in September 1926 (see here).

* * * * *

Regarding Furman's writing for the New York Times Literary Review: I have found four articles by her (too long to quote in full). Undoubtedly, she wrote many more since each appears to be only a sample of a series: "Books Worth Reading Again. VII. Dorothy Osbourne's Letters" The New York Times, Vol. 47, Iss. 15029 (12 March 1898): 170c–171b (see here); "Books Worth Reading Again. IX. Louisa May Alcott's Life and Letters" The New York Times, Vol. 47, Iss. 15053 (9 April 1898): 238c–239c (see here); "Books at Auction. Features of the Final Part of the Ashburnham Library Sold This Week in London" The New York Times, Vol. 47, Iss. 15083 (14 May 1898): 324a–b (see here). "Books at Auction. Prices at the Fine Mackellar Sale—Bibles and Manuscripts" The New York Times, Vol. 48, Iss. 15251 (26 November 1898): 794a–b (see here); "Two Noble Lives. Maurice de Guierin and His Sister Eugene—The Journals They Wrote" The New York Times (4 March 1899): 137a–c (see here).

Regarding Furman's collection of books: I can't find an auction catalogue for this 1920 sale, but The New York Times advertisement explains that it contained "First Editions of Modern Authors including Stevenson and Kipling; Riverside. Doves, Kelmscott, Ashendene and other Presses; best library editions of the works of famous authors; bindings; rare early English literature and autographs; being mainly the library of Miss Dorothy Furman." There was a review of the sale published in The Publishers Weekly, which reads:

The library of Miss Dorothy Furman consisting of modern first editions, books printed by private and special presses, fine sets of standard authors, rare early English literature and choice miscellaneous books, was sold at the Walpole Galleries July 1 and 2. The sale was well attended, and prices were very satisfactory. Mr. Turnbull is a careful cataloger and in sales of this character he handles them with a high degree of efficiency. A few of the items, indicating the trend of prices, were as follows: Andrew’s "Gossip about Book Collecting," New York, 1900, $50; same author, "Paul Revere and His Engraving," New York, 1901, $55; Sir Thomas More’s "Utopia," Chelsea, 1906, Ashendene Press edition, $42.50; Beaumont and Fletcher's "Fifty Comedies and Tragedies," London, 1679, second edition, $35; Lord Byron’s "Works," 13 vols., London, 1898–1901, large paper edition, $44; Blanchard's "Life of George Cruikshank," 2 vols. extended to 4 with 140 extra plates, many in colors, $75; De Morgan’s "Collected Works," 8 vols., London, 1906-14, first editions, $26; Drayton's "Poems," London, 1619, $25; Genest's "Some Account of the English Stage from the Restoration in 1660 to 1830," 10 vols., 8vo, prepared for extra illustrating with cases, $120; Hallam's "Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries," 4 vols., 8vo, London, 1837–39, $60; Ireland's "Records of the New York Stage from 1750 to 1860," New York, 1866-67, large paper copy with extra illustrations, $40; Keats's "Poetical Works," 4 vols., London, 1883, original library edition edited by H. Buxton Forman, $65; Livingston's "Bibliography of Kipling," New York, 1901, Japan paper, $35; Masefield's "Tragedy of Nan and other Plays," London, 1909, first edition and presentation copy, $52.50; Montaigne's "Essays," 3 vols., folio, Boston, 1902, Riverside Press special edition, $65; Shakespeare's "Comedies, Histories and Tragedies," 1685, fourth folio with imperfections, $375; Stevenson’s manuscript of the first draft of "St. Ives," 500 pages, written by Isobel Strong, at Stevenson's dictation with revisions and additions by the author, $340; and Stevenson's "Verses," original wrappers, privately printed, 1912, very scarce, $65.

Regarding Furman's collection of bookplates: Walpole Galleries described it (well in advance of the sale, in 1921) as "The Important Collection of Bookplates of Miss Dorothy Furman of Morristown, N. J., being over 8,000 plates—one of the largest collections in this country" (see here); elsewhere the number is inflated to "about" ten thousand (see "Prospects For The Coming Season," The Publishers Weekly, Vol. 102, No. 18 (28 October 1922): 1553–54: "It includes the sale … the bookplates, about 10,000 in number, of Miss Dorothy Furman, for many years on the staff of the New York Times Literary Review; a superb …" (here).

Furman participated in an exhibition of bookplates in New York in 1895 (see here); she commissioned bookplates from Edwin Davis French in 1902 (see here), Arthur Nelson MacDonald by 1895 and in 1907 (see here and here [and at the head of this post]); J. Winfred Spenceley in 1907 (see here).
The bookplate contained in her, now my, copy of The Brotherhood of Letters is above. This plate is described (and so, a terminus ad quem established) in Ladies' Book-plates: An Illustrated Handbook for Collectors and Book-lovers (London: George Bell and Sons, 1895), 200 (see here):

"The following lines are familiar to many:

O for a Booke and a shadie nooke,
  eyther in-a-doore or out;
With the grene leaves whispering overhede,
  or the Streete cryes all about.
Where I maie Reade all at my ease,
  both of the Newe and Olde;
For a jollie goode Booke whereon to looke,
  is better to me than Golde.

This is taken from Dorothy Furman's plate, consisting of the name written on a garter."


(For an excellent investigation into the 1860s origins of this ye-olde verse, see here.)

One of the books she owned have been scanned and are online with her bookplate: Arthur Conan Doyle, Through The Magic Door (London: Smith, Elder [and] Co., 1907) here.

A few odd bits of evidence for Furman's patronage of book plate artists: she made donations of bookplates to the Museum of Fine Arts Boston in 1901 and 1902 (see here); she made a similar donation to the British Museum by 1912 (see here); and to the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences in 1917 (see here).

Finally, I am indebted—once again—to the blog "My Sentimental Library," on which Jerry Morris (sadly, now dead) collected some information about Furman in 2018 (see here), which I have tried not to duplicate here.

Wednesday, 16 September 2026

Thieving Canadians versus Elon Musk

A recent analysis puts the cost of launching 1kg into low Earth orbit (LEO), on Elon Musk's Falcon 9 rocket, to approximately USD1500 per kg.

Musk is developing his Starship launch vehicle in the hope of significantly reducing this cost of launching mass to orbit. He has stated that his target is about USD10.00 per kilogram to LEO, which assumes full and rapid reusability and a very high launch cadence for Starship. But this is an aspirational long-term operating cost; it seems that more conservative estimates put Starship launch costs at about USD100–200 per kilo.

* * * * *
The above Coronet edition of John Wyndham's Stowaway to Mars of 1972 weighs 110 grams. If we add 90 grams for minimal packaging (to reach a total of 200g), it seems that Elon Musk would presently charge approximately USD300 to launch a copy of this book into LEO, but he expects to be able to eventually be able launch a copy into LEO for USD2.00 (while more conservative estimates put it at USD20). This is good news for LEO book collectors.

As you can see below, one thieving bastard bookseller (JMCbooksonline, of Cheverie, NS, Canada) is presently asking USD140 [A$196] to launch, I mean post, this book to Australia (see listing here). For the record, I can post 250g to Canada for A$23.05—less than one eighth of this.
This postal charge is the equivalent of USD700 per kilo—more than double the present cost of launching Wyndham's Stowaway to Mars into orbit via a Falcon 9, soon to be thirty-five times the cost of launching it into LEO via Starship, and, if Musk's dreams are realised, three hundred and fifty times the cost of launching it into orbit.

* * * * *

Anyone in Australia who buys books from overseas soon learns that postage from Canada is extremely slow and extremely expensive—possibly the slowest and most expensive postal service in the world, but certainly the slowest and most expensive postal service I am familiar with.

When buying from Canada, there are no bargins to be had, and few books are rare enough to justify stuffing the pockets of either Canadian postal services or Candian Booksellers.

I wonder how long it will be before Musk realises that international parcel post represents an arbitrage opportunity, and that he can use Starfall—the uncrewed reusable re-entry/cargo capsule being developed by SpaceX—to massively reduce the cost of postage of 1970s paperbacks from Canada (or the US) to Australia?

Sunday, 6 September 2026

The Drunken Druggist and a Shanghai Reading Room

The book below is an odd volume from Harrison and Co.'s The Novelist's Magazine series, which has a particularly interesting provenance, spending time in the UK, China, the US, and Australia.

The Novelist's Magazine (ESTC p6358) reprinted sixty novels, broken up into weekly parts, from 1780 to 1788. Each novel has a separate title page, and each of the 23 volumes has an engraved general title page. While some of the novels stretched over more than one volume (Sir Charles Grandison occupies vols. 14–15; Clarissa occupies vols. 10–11), most volumes contain multiple novels (for example, vols. 9 and 23 both contain six novels each).
I am interested in the series primarily because it contains Eliza Haywood's Betsy Thoughtless, Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy, and The Invisible Spy (in vols. 13, 17, and 23); but I have this volume (vol. 7) because it contains some Haywoodiana: Charles De Fieux Mouhy's The Fortunate Country Maid (1740), an anonymous translation of La Paysanne Parvenue, ou les Mémoires de Madame la Marquise de L. V. (1735–36). Haywood's own translation of this French work, The Virtuous Villager, appeared in 1741, by which time The Fortunate Country Maid had gone through four editions and a Dublin reprint—pretty much running away with the market for the book.

I have had my copy of vol. 7 of The Novelist's Magazine for more than two decades. It is in pretty woeful condition (the spine is broken in three places), but it was cheap (USD10) and I haven't bothered to upgrade it because I liked the bookplate (below) on the front (fixed) endpaper: "James Watson | Manchester." This morning I was able to identify this previous owner as James Watson (1775–1820), an eccentric young druggist known in Manchester as "Doctor Watson."
Watson (below) was apprenticed to a fustian (heavy cotton) manufacturer; when that apprenticeship ended, he worked as a bookkeeper for a cotton merchant, until his father's death obliged him to take over the family's apothecary business. Apparently, "Doctor Watson" was a theatre fanatic: he was a collector of printed theatre ephemera (1799–1800) and, from 1803 onwards, produced a periodical, The Townsman. He became the first librarian of the Manchester’s Portico Library in 1806.

Apparently, Watson soon lost that position because of his "drinking habits and neglect of duty" (i.e., he was an alcoholic), and went on to lose another as a boarding school usher at Altrincham, for the same reason; after which he became homeless and dependent upon charity. After a lengthy period of destitution, he drowned (or drowned himself) in the River Mersey on 28 June 1820 and was buried at Didsbury.
(The portrait and most of the above information about Watson, is taken from a The Spirit of the Doctor: Comprising Many Interesting Poems Selected from the Original Manuscript of the Late Mr. James Watson (Manchester, 1820), online here; and Simon Beattie, Short List 6 (March 2014), online here.)

* * * * *

I took a few photos of my battered odd-volume this morning. When I was filing these, after I had returned the book itself to my "hopital for battered books," I noticed something I had missed in all my previous examinations of the book over the last two decades: there was a very faint blind stamp visible on the title leaf—so faint, that it was really only clear enough to notice on the recto. (Look again at the first photograph in this post, above, showing the whole title-page to this volume. Did you notice the blind stamp?)
I retrieved the book once again, and re-photographed the title page in strong raking light using a macro lense. While it is still the case that—even in these favourable conditions—only part of the blind stamp is visible on the title page (above), the negative on the verso is much clearer. Having reversed (flipped) my photographs of the verso using some image software, I was able to clearly make out a surprising ownership stamp (below): "Astor House Hotel | Shanghai"!
Astor House Hotel, Shanghai, has a lengthy Wikipedia page dedicated to it (here). If you read this page you will see that the Shanghai Astor had a "Reading Room." Peter Felix Richards (1846–1859), a Scottish merchant, opened the first Western hotel in China. In August 1850, Richards advertised that a reading room for shipmasters had been established in his hotel. The advertisement (here) reads: "NOTICE. SHIPMASTERS are respectfully informed that the undersigned have opened a READING ROOM in their Establishment especialy for their accommodation. P. F. RICHARDS [and] Co. Shanghae, 1th August, 1851."
Skipping ahead a half-century, a 1908 real-photo postcard (below; here), captioned "Shanghai——Astor House Hotel Co. Ltd: Lounge," shows (in the photograph) a signboard that reads "Reading and Writing Room." In 1911, when the Astor House Hotel had a grand re-opening, it was described as having "a reading room with several comfortable sofas and easy chairs upholstered in leather"—a description that nicely matches this 1908 postcard image.
Skipping ahead another half-century, the scene is rather different: the Shanghai Astor was bombed and occupied during the 2nd Sino-Japanese War and WW2 (1937–45); thereafter it went into a spiral of decline, and on 19 April 1954 the Hotel was confiscated by the CCP; much of the furniture and interior decoration was destroyed or stolen during the Cultural Revolution. After extensive renovations in the early 2000s, the hotel was bought out, and the hotel closed on 1 January 2018. The building was converted to the China Securities Museum, and the renovated premises are now once again accessible to the public (according to this site).

Pulling together the threads, it seems that my odd volume of The Novelist's Magazine was purchased, early in its existance, by the convivial Mancunian James Watson, who probably pawned it for a bottle of gin soon after. The enterprising Peter Richards picked up this volume on his travels, whether in Manchester or elsewhere, and transported it to Shanghai, included it in his 1850 Reading Room for Shipmasters. If the volume remained in situ, then it was likely looted from the Shanghai Astor by an American GI during WW2, who took it back to the states. When I bought it two decades ago, it was transported back past Asia, to Australia.

I have been unable to find any other remnant of either the James Watson library or the Astor House Shanghai library or Reading Room, and so, no images of either his book label or this blind stamp. I have also been unable to find any real information about whatever library may have at one time existed in the first Western hotels in China, and possibly one of the earliest English-language libraries in China—which is surprising. I hope that, by the time I dig this volume out of my "hospital"—for a team of book-binding robots to properly repair it—more information will be available. But until then, it is time for it to return to rest.

Monday, 17 August 2026

Eliza Haywood's Henry Goring Identified

The subject of Eliza Haywood's "Jacobite literary fabrication," A Letter from H---- G----g, Esq; One of the Gentlemen of the Bed-chamber to the Young Chevalier (1749), is Charles Edward Stuart (1720–88), son of James Francis Edward Stuart (1688–1766), son of James II (ruled 1685–88), who was overthrown as King of England because of his Catholicism in the “Glorious Revolution” of 1688.
In my Bibliography of Eliza Haywood (2004), I opened my entry on this 64-page pamphlet almost exactly as stated above. Although I filled in the dashes ("H[enry] G[orin]g") whenever I used the full title of the pamphlet, and titled my entry (actually, entries) for it A Letter from Henry Goring, and cross-referenced both "'G—g, H—' (i.e. Goring, Henry)" and "Goring, Henry" to my entries for "A Letter from H[enry] G[orin]g (Ab.66, Da.9)," I nowhere say anything whatsoever about the putative author of Haywood's Letter.

The reason for this silence is because I was unable—up until (*looks at watch*) today(!)—to identify the Goring concerned. It occurred to me this morning that I might now—with the amount of material online, and AI-powered searches now able to sift almost all of this material—make more progress than I did using the resources at my disposal in the pre-internet era. I was right. Although Google’s Gemini struggled, ChatGPT bought home the gold.

Henry Goring (1707–1755)

It seems that the Gorings were an old Catholic-leaning Sussex family. According to The Westminster School archive (**), Henry Goring was born 11 April 1707, the son of Sir Henry Goring, 4th Baronet (1679–1731; Wikipedia entry here) and Elizabeth Mathew. The archive identifies him specifically as the Henry Goring who became a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the Young Pretender.

Henry’s elder brother, Charles Mathew Goring, inherited the baronetcy to become Sir Charles Mathew Goring, 5th Baronet (1706–1769; details here).

Henry pursued a military career on the Continent. He appears to have joined Charles Edward's circle in the 1730s, being with the Prince in Italy around 1737. He subsequently served in the Austrian army, and this military background was probably one reason he was useful to Charles. Later, Goring became one of the Prince's most trusted personal attendants and accompanied him during his clandestine wanderings after the collapse of the 1745 enterprise.

Haywood’s pamphlet pretends to be a genuine account of Goring accompanying Charles from Avignon through Germany and elsewhere. By 1752–54, Charles's private life and increasingly erratic behaviour were causing serious alarm among his remaining supporters. One particularly damaging episode involved Charles’s mistress Clementina Walkinshaw (1720–1802) (below).
Charles sent Goring to Dunkirk to bring Clementina to him. Goring apparently regarded her very unfavourably and bitterly complained that Charles was treating him as little more than a pimp! Although there is no entry for “our” Henry Goring on Wikipedia, an account of this incident does appear under the entry for Clementina (here).

The never-failing Andrew Lang offers an historical account of Goring, partly based on genuine contemporary reports from a government spy—"Pickle" (the traitor Alastair MacDonnell, ca. 1725–1761)—as being the Prince's loyal servant who eventually abandoned his service. (See, Pickle the Spy: Or, The Incognito of Prince Charles (1897) and the sequel The Companions of Pickle (1898).) Goring was concerned about Charles's mistress, his treatment of loyal adherents, his increasing suspiciousness, his financial difficulties, and what Goring regarded as his ingratitude and political irresponsibility.
Charles effectively dismissed Goring at Liège in May 1754. Goring then went to Berlin, where he entered Prussian service. According to Lang, in Pickle the Spy, he "went to Berlin, and presently died in Prussian service" (here) and in The Companions of Pickle, "The Earl [George Keith, 10th Earl Marischal] left Paris in the end of June (carrying with him to Berlin poor Henry Goring, who was near death)" (here).

What happened next is unclear. The Westminster School archive (based on a 1928 publication) claims that—although Lang represents Goring as being near death in 1754—he went on to become a General in the Prussian Army and that, in 1755, he married a Susan, daughter of Prince Stanever, Transylvania.

I suspect this last claim is an error, and possibly a confusion of Goring with Earl Marischal, who joined the Prussian Army, became a close confidant of Frederick the Great, and served as the Prussian ambassador to Spain, France and Great Britain. Unfortunately, I have been unable to find anything definitive regarding this since the evidence points in all directions.

* * * * *
A Prince Stanever is mentioned in an early nineteenth-century historical and genealogical work. In James Dallaway's A History of the Western Division of the County of Sussex, Vol. 2, Pt 2 (1830), 133, on the Goring family tree, Dallaway notes (as seen, at right, above) that "Henry, a general in the Prussian service" married "Susan, dau[ghter]. of … [sic, elipsis] Stanever, a prince of Transylvania, living in London in 1781" (here).

From 1711, Transylvania was under the direct rule of the Austrian Habsburgs, meaning that a title of Prince of Transylvania only might apply to a Habsburg prince in 1755 (when Susan and Henry are supposed to have married), or 1781 (when the prince was supposedly in London), but there were no Habsburg princes of this name. Likewise, none of the pre-1711 princes of Transylvanian have this name.

The only Prince named in the London newspapers between 1745 and 1781 in relation to Transylvania is Prince Sulkowski, seemingly a member of the Sułkowski family of Poland (see here), who was campaigning on the boarder of Transylvania, and is an unlikely candidate for a "Prince Stanever."

In a strange hallucination (I think!) ChatGPT claims that "Prince Stanever of Transylvania" appears as a character name in a 1755 Westminster School Archive theatrical play, but I am unable to find any such play.

It did occur to me that, since Earl Marischal really did join the Prussian Army and achieve some seniority, there might be some confusion of Goring with the Earl, but Earl Marischal did not marry (it seems), and I find nothing to link him to either a Susan or a Prince Stanever of Transylvania.

(**) the Westminster School archive is based on material concerning Goring, including his marriage to Susan etc., that was first printed in The Record of Old Westminsters: A Biographical List of All Those who are Known to Have Been Educated at Westminster School from the Earliest Times to 1927, vol. 1 (1928), 386 (here).

Monday, 27 July 2026

AI is not eating antique books

It seems that the latest injection of disinformation, or "FUD" (Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt), into discussions about AI is that AI companies are "eating" physical copies of rare and antique books in the same way that data-centres are believed to be "drinking" water. (I asked Nano Banana to generate an appropriate image of this imagnined process—using the same starting prompt I used previously—to help my readers visualise this action. Please enjoy the result!)
This, somewhat alarmist, 25 July article by Frank Landymore, for instance, suggests that AI companies are purchasing antique books in large volumes (this is in the article title: "AI Companies Are Buying Antique Books…") to use as high-quality training data, as these texts are free from modern digital AI content. Because it is cheaper, destructive, high-speed automated scanning processes are being used to digitize the books (i.e., book spines are guillotined off, the covers removed, page-stacks are fed into scanner hoppers, then thrown away). The practice is facilitated by book database services that keep the tech company buyers anonymous. Rare booksellers have ethical concerns about selling books to these services, warning that it permanently destroys some of the last surviving copies of historic literature.

The FUD here is the "antique books" and "historic literature" claim. Once you read through the parent and grandparent linked articles (3 April essay by Val Giordano, promoting the practice, here; 25 June [anonymous] essay on the NL Times, reporting concerns of European book dealers, here; a 26 June article by Benj Edwards here; a solid, 21 July essay by Emanuel Maiberg here) it becomes clear that the books being hoovered up by Anthropic (and possibly others) all post-date 1969 (when ISBNs were introduced) and most, it seems likely, post-date 2006 (when ISBN barcodes became ubiquitous)—about the same time, coincidently, that the arrival of modern smart-phones ended civilisation as we knew it.

That the AI-company proxies are exclusively interested in books with an ISBN is made very clear from the following anecdote reported by Maiberg:

The seller told me that … Bulk purchases … usually reflect interest in a specific topic, whereas the recent, very large purchases were of books that had little in common, except for the fact that they all had ISBNs. This seller also sells rare books that do not have ISBNs, and none of those were part of the bulk purchases. (emphasis added)

That the bulk-purchase companies are likely to prefer later, bar-coded books, seems probable from the scale they are working on—it is simply easier and cheaper to scan the bar codes of hundreds of thousands of books, than it is to key in the ISBN (and then check for errors) on the same number.

From the articles I mention above, it seems that second-hand book dealers are getting what I take to be in-fill requests, for any ISBN that has not shown up in the literal truck-loads of books donated to charities, that are sold off to bulk-book dealers / waste-paper merchants (on this, see my post here concerning Mubin and Raza Ahmed's "Wrap Ltd."—a "printed matter," "waste and scrap paper" import/export business with an annual turnover of £6.5M "or more.")

It simply wouldn’t be economical to buy a book via ABE, Alibris etc. if you could buy the same book at a fraction of the price from parasites, excuse me, erm … paper-dealers like Mubin and Raza Ahmed. I.e., you'd start with whatever your local large-scale charity can wring from a well-meaning public, checked-off against a master-list of ISBNs via bar-code scanning, and then back-fill the gaps in that master-list via ABE, Alibris etc.

For me, this is where it gets interesting. Anthropic et al. have more money than they know what to do with, and have just been stung to the tune of USD3K per book, for all the digital books they stole, and then got sued for stealing. That being the case, the following observation should come as no surprise:

there's a total disregard for the price of the book. I've had some books that sold through this way that were [...] greatly overpriced. That's kind of a tell for AI because they have just so much money.

* * * * *

Since I was born before ISBNs were a thing, it is hard for me to think of books after 1970 as "antique" or "historic" ("rare," especially, "rare on market" is another matter completely). Perhaps, this is easier for Frank Landymore—who seems to be in his early 30s. In any event, I asked one of the water-guzzling, book-eating monsters (ChatGPT) to estimate how many books have been published since 1970 (and 2006) and the answer should be reassuring.

It seems likely that something like 80 million English-language ISBN editions have been released, or which approximately 60 million editions were printed with a barcode. The number of unique works (i.e., with Pride and Prejudice counting once) is obviously much smaller—perhaps 10–20 million, but the number of physical copies printed is much larger, likely "well over 100 billion copies since the 1980s."

So, it seems Anthropic is attempting to gobble up millions of recent books (emphatically-not antique you baby-faced ageists!), mostly comprised of unwanted donations, fenced by the likes of Messers Ahmed, and otherwise unsold obscuriana, laying heavily on the hands of dealers who once supplied libraries, out of a pool of something like 100 billion copies printed.

If it were possible to pile this 100-billion copies one atop the other, it seems that the pile would likely extend 2.5 million kilometres, or about 6.5 times the distance from the Earth to the Moon. Indeed, only 14.5 billion books would be need to reach the moon, or 14.5% of all books printed with an ISBN.

I would wager as many books as I could carry, that far, far more than this 14.5%—perhaps 80% of these 100 billion books—have already been pulped, without once raising the interest of Landymore et al., making this story a pretty good parallel to widely-disseminated concerns about the water consumption of data centres. (Which is mostly FUD too, since most new data centres consume no water—they use closed-loop cooling—and the water usage of older AI data centres that do use evaporative cooling etc., is dwarfed by the water consumption of golf-course and intensive cattle farms. I.e., this is a gnat on the arse of a flee in the grand scheme of things.)

And while most AI tokens will doubless go to things like generating fake security footage of President John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe in flagrante delicto, or self-insert versions of Terminator or Twilight, it is already clear that AI can, and probably soon will, cure every disease known to man and put a complete stop to the death and mutilation caused by badly-driven cars on the road—to name but two of life’s miseries. If they need to guillotine a copy of each my books to do this (**), they are welcome to do so.

(**) if AI can also restore my use of AdobeCaslonExpert in the later versions of Word, they can have all my essays too.

Sunday, 26 July 2026

Bookplate of Thomas Story Spedding

Above and below are images of the heraldic exlibris bookplate of Thomas Story Spedding (1800–1870). The bookplate appears in a bound volume of various parts of the Library of Useful Knowledge (1827–38). Three more volumes of this broken set, each containing one of these bookplates, are presently available here. There is also a copy of Scott’s Quentin Durward (1823) for sale online for USD666(!) (here).
Thomas Story Spedding was an English barrister who lived at the famous Mirehouse estate in Keswick, a historic manor house in Cumberland on an estate that had been left to the Spedding family by Thomas Story in 1802. Thomas served as magistrate and High Sheriff of Cumberland in 1855, but he is much better known for his literary connections.
Thomas’s younger brother James Spedding (1808–1881) was famous for his edition of the works of Francis Bacon. Because of his family's standing, James’ literary connections, and the location of Mirehouse in the Lake District, the Speddings were especially close friends with various “Lake District” writers.
Thomas was close friends with Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881)—who wrote movingly of Thomas after his death—and frequently hosted William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Alfred, Lord Tennyson and Edward FitzGerald (author of the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám).
The Mirehouse estate quotes the recollection of Canon Hardwicke Rawnsley (here), which describes the convivial atmosphere of the library at the Spedding family’s Mirehouse estate:

There are those who would fain have that library filled again with the voices of old time. Tennyson’s deep-chested tones, FitzGerald’s laugh, Monckton-Milne’s wit. Carlyle’s strong Northern brogue, James Spedding’s dignified speech, and Tom Spedding’s humour.
* * * * *
There are no images online (that I can find) of this Thomas Spedding ex libris bookplate—one of the few Speddings to dignify their books with a bookplate—and below are most of the tiny number of photos I could find of the library at Mirehouse, either from the estate website or from the Mirehouse Facebook page (here). Since Mirehouse is regularly open to the public I expected to find many more images, but the main attraction seems to be outdoors: the stunning gardens and area generally.

Wednesday, 22 July 2026

A French Review of Haywood's Anti-Pamela, 1741

Nine years ago now, I added to my list of “Eliza Haywood Reviews” (here), the following review in French, of the French translation of Eliza Haywood’s The Anti-Pamela; or Feign'd Innocence Detected. At that time, I merely linked to the Google Books text of the review in Bibliothèque Britannique, 22.2 (January–March 1744): 358–66.

Somewhat belatedly, I have now transcribed and translated this fascinating review, which is quite positive towards Haywood’s Anti-Pamela, and (rightly) strongly negative towards Richardson’s improbable, inconsistent, and implausible Pamela. Haywood’s Syrene is praised as realistic, consistent, and psychologically plausible—unlike Richardson’s idiotic Pamela. The reviewer specifically praises Haywood’s “moral design,” since the novel genuinely serves, as promised, as a moral warning.

Although the reviewer complains that Anti-Pamela (and Pamela) is badly translated, full of awkward expressions, and solecisms, he praises the translator—in a wonderful peroration—for omitting the many indecencies found in the English original: French readers, the reviewer notes, are spared from reading “a quantity of filth, which English readers are fortunate enough not to be so alarmed by.” Naughty, filthy English readers.

* * * * *
|358|
ARTICLE VII.
I.

L'Anti-Pamela, ou la fausse Innocence, découverte dans les Avantures de Syrene: Histoire véritable, et attestée par l'Expérience de tous les Jours, écrite pour servir de Préservatif aux Jeunes-Gens contre les Ruses des Coquettes, et traduite de l'Anglois par Mr. de M ***. Amsterdam, Arkstée et Merkus, 1743, in 12, 445 pages, sans l'Avertissement.

CET Anti est un Roman Moral, fait pour en réfuter un autre de même Espece, composé par un Mr. RICHARDSON, intitulé Pamela, ou la Vertu récompensée, et dans lequel, selon l'Avertissement qui précede celui-ci, les Regles de la Vraisemblance sont assez mal obsérvées.
  EN EFFET, y dit-on, l'on eft surpris, en lisant cet Ouvrage, d'y voir une Fille, qu'on nous donne pour une Niaise, raisonner, tantôt en Philosophe, tantôt en Théologienne; une Fille, qui a un Attachement presque inoui pour la Vertu; et qui, néanmoins, est la plus grande Grimaciere, et la plus ambitieuse du Monde. Elle veut, et ne veut pas: elle semble n'aimer la Vertu, que pour jetter de la Poudre aux Yeux, et pour mieux parvenir à ses Fins. En un mot, c'est un Caractere si compliqué, |359| qu'à chaque Feuille du Livre on croit voir une autre Héroïne …. Et l'on pourroit peut-être ajouter bien d'autres Choses sur ses Défauts, et ceux de son Panégyrique: ne fussent, par Exemple, que la Grossiéreté, et même la Brutalité des prémieres Propositions et Démarches du Héros de la Piéce, qui ne peuvent que rebuter d'abord tout Lecteur tant soit peu délicat et sensé; et que la ridicule Envie de devenir les Maitreffes et les Epouses de leurs Maitres, que la Réüffite des Minauderies de PAMELA peut aussi abusivement que naturellement faire naitre dans la petite Cervelle de quantité de sottes et imbécilles Créatures que son Avanture aura séduites.
  ON n'aura pas lieu, continue l'Avertissement déjà cité, d'appliquer ces Reproches généraux à SYRENE. Ici, le Caractere est soutenu du Commencement jusqu'à la Fin. C'est toujours une Coquette, qui ignore tout, excepté l'Art de tromper, dans lequel elle excelle. On voit même croitre son Habileté avec son Age: et, par un Effet ordinaire à la Coquetterie, son Gout pour la Débauche augmente à mesure qu'elle a plus d'Habitude avec les Hommes; et, à la fin, elle accorde par Libertinage ce qu'elle ne cédoit que par Intérêt …… Pamela est malheureusement une Espece de Phénix, qu'on ne trouve nulle-part. Syrene est un Personnage, qui est dans tous les Païs, et dans toutes les Villes du Monde. En un mot, on voit avec agrément, dans ce Roman-ci, le Tableau réel et naïf de la Vie, des Ruses, |360| et des Déréglemens outrez des Femmes débauchées; au lieu qu'on voit d'abord à regret, que l'autre n'est qu'un Conte fait à plaisir, forgé dans le Cabinet de l'Auteur, qui y parle toujours, sans laisser presque jamais parler, comme il l'auroit dû selon son Plan, une Fille simple et modeste, dont l'aimable Naïveté auroit cent fois fait plus de Plaisir à tout Lecteur judicieux, que tous les Rafinemens d'Amour quintessenciez et mistiques, qu'on lui prête très mal-habilement. S'il est vrai, comme on le débite, qu'un Prédicateur de Soutwarck n'ait point fait Difficulté de recommander publiquement en Chaire la Lecture de cette Histoire Romanesque, on ne doit point craindre d'y recommander de même celle de Télémaque, de Guzman d'Alfarache, et de quelques autres Romans Moraux de pareille Espece: car les Leçons de Morale, qu'on y donne, y sont bien plus habilement enchassées, beaucoup plus judicieusement distribuées, et par conséquent bien plus propres à produire un heureux Succès.
  POUR répondre parfaitement au Titre de Pamela, ou la Vertu récompensée, la Réfutation, dont il s'agit ici, auroit peut-être dû être intitulée Anti-Pamela, ou le Vice puni, puisqu'en effet chaque Projet criminel de Syrene est toujours mis à néant par le Manque de Succès: en quoi la Conduite et les Leçons de l'Auteur paroissent très judicieuses et très dignes d'Approbation. Quoi qu'il en soit, ces Avantures qui sont |361| au Nombre de IX, peuvent effectivement tenir lieu de Préservatif contre les Ruses des Coquettes: et c'est ce dont on pourra se former une Idée par le Détail suivant.
  I. DANS la prémiere, Syrene, mise en Apprentissage à contre-cœur chés une Couturiere, et bien instruite par sa Mere, Femme d'Intigue fort expérimentée, de ne jamais s'attacher à qui que ce fût que par Intérêt, mais entrainée par son Penchant à la Volupté, s'amourache étourdiment d'un Aigresin de Lieutenant, quil'entraine adroitement dans une Taverne, où, moïennant une Paire de Bas, et quelques Verres de Ratafia redoublez, il en obtient enfin les Gans. Après quoi, à propos de quelques Plumes qu'elle tâche en vain de lui arracher, il la plante-là enceinte de son Fait: mais, à l'aide d'un Breuvage officieux, sa digne Mere, Femme de longue-main familiarisée avec le Crime, la tire bientôt de ce mauvais Pas.
  II. LA seconde se passe dans une Maifon de Qualité, où Syrene, placée pour lire auprès d'une vieille Dame, et avoir soin de sa Chambre, trouve Moïen de mettre dans ses Filets son Gendre, et le Fils de ce Gendre, auquel elle s'abandonne enfin, mais qu'elle accuse aussi-tôt de l'avoir violée, et qui se voïoit sur le Point d'être forcé à l'épouser, ou exposé aux Rigueurs de la Justice, si une Lettre, imprudemment écrite par la Mere de Syrene, et heureusement remise à la Famille du Jeune-Homme, |362| n'avoit enfin découvert leur Complot scélérat.
  III. LA Scene de la troisieme fut à Greenwich, où Syrene, déjà entretenue par un Marchand Portugais, lie encore deux autres Intigues, l'une avec un Capitaine de Vaisseau, et l'autre avec un Jeune-Homme de Distinction, qui, aïant découvert, que sa Perfidie, et la Scélératesse de sa Mere, avoient causé la Mort de sa Fiancée, l'accable des plus violens Reproches, la quitte avec Horreur, et va porter sa Douleur et ses Regrets en Amérique.
  IV. L' OPERA et la Mascarade furent l'Occasion de la quatrieme, où l'on voit Syrene s'accrocher fort cavaliérement à un Lord déguisé de même qu'elle, passer fort voluptueusement la Nuit avec lui; après l'avoir effrontément ensuite été relancer jusque dans son propre Domicile, en recevoir les Railleries les plus ameres, et les Menaces les plus accablantes; et, enfin, en être le plus ignominieusement chassée.
  V. ON remarque dans la cinquieme avec quelle Facilité elle plume impitoïablement un Idiot de Marchand, qui, aïant enfin découvert son Infidélité et ses Friponneries en faveur d'un Avanturier, et se voïant à peu près ruïné, veut se tuër lui-même, mais en est empêché par sa Femme, qui lui pardonne généreusement ses Egaremens, pendant que, d'autre côté, Syrene et son
Galant, après avoir promtement dissipé ce |363| qu'ils lui avoient volé, se brouillent, se querellent, se battent, et enfin se quittent pour toujours.
  VI. ON voit dans la sixieme Syrene s'abandonner brutalement à son Insatiabilité pour les Hommes, se livrer sans mesure, non seulement aux Desirs empressez d'un Lord qui l'entretenoit en Chambre, mais même aux Emportemens brutaux de tout Venant, de qui elle ne manque point de recevoir de fort mauvais Présens, qu'elle communique au Lord, qui ne s'abstient de la traiter comme elle méritoit, que pour ne point appreter à rire au Public à ses Dépens.
  VII. LA septieme, l'une des plus intéressantes de tout le Livre, représente Syrene comme aïant fortuitement fait Connoissance dans le Parc de Saint-James avec un vieux Gentil-Homme veuf, qui la prend pour diriger sa Maison, et de l'Esprit duquel elle sait si bien s'emparer, par son Maintien modeste et hipocrite, qu'il alloit incessamment l'épouser, si son Fils, qu'il lui présentoit, n'eût fait d'Etonnement quatre Pas en arrierre, et si elle-même à son Aspect n'eût jetté un grand Cri de Surprise, qui jettérent le Bon-Homme dans un Embarras encore plus grand que le leur. Le Dénoûment fut, que ce Jeune-Homme se jetta aux Pieds de son Pere, lui demanda Pardon de ses Débauches, et lui avoua sincérement que cette Créature étoit une Fille-de-Joie des plus impudiques, et qui lui avoit passé quantité de fois par les Mains, |364| dans divers mauvais Lieux; ce qui la sit aussitôt, non seulement dépouiller des Habits magnifiques et des Joïaux précieux dont on l'avoit parée, mais même ignominieusement chaffer d'une riche et puissante Maison, dont elle alloit devenir la Maitresse.
  VIII. LE Héros de la huitieme fut un Jeune-Homme d'assez bonne Famille, mais pour le moins aussi gueux que Syrene, et qu'elle acheva de dépouiller impitoïablement jusqu'au dernier Fardin, sous prétexte de Mariage: mais, l'aïant enfin surprise en flagrant Délict avec le prémier Avanturier qui l'avoit débauchée, l'un et l'autre indignez de se voir également jouëz et duppez, la couvrirent d'Injures, et l'abandonnérent à sa mauvaise Conduite.
  IX. LA neuvieme et derniere commença à un Encan, d'où un Gentil-Homme la tira pour la mettre en Chambre, d'où sa Femme, extrémement jalouse, sçut à son Tour la tirer, pour être conduite, par Ordre du Magistrat, dans une Prison de Prostituées, en attendant qu'on la chassat honteusement de Londres, et qu'on la reléguât dans le Fond du Païs de Galles.
  TELLES sont les prémieres Avantures de Syrene, qui en font naturellement attendre de secondes. Et s'il est vrai qu'elle n'eût alors que dix-sept Ans, comme le dit expressément quelque part le Livre, elle pouvoit à très juste Titre parodier ainsi pour elle-même ce fameux Vers du Cid de Corneille: |365|

   Je suis jeune il est vrai; mais, aux Ames mal nées,
   Le Vice n'attend pas le Nombre des Années.

  IL ne sera peut-être pas inutile d'ajouter, que les deux Traductions de ces Romans de Pamela, et d'Anti-Pamela, ne sont nullement bien écrites, et se sentent fort souvent du Langage altéré des Lieux qu'habitent leurs Auteurs. Sans insister sur la prémiere, qui est fort irréguliere dans l'Edition de Londres, et que par cette Raison l'on a été obligé de rajuster tant bien que mal en beaucoup d'Endroits des Editions d'Amsterdam, il suffira d'indiquer ici quelques Irrégularitez de la seconde, telles que la Barette quittée par une Fille, pag. 3; une Tailleuse, pag. 4; tourner des Dispositions vers des Desirs, pag. 7; faire un Tour fur la Cour, pag. 24, et de même pagg. 31, 42, &c; ce fut férieux, pag. 25; se torturer, pag. 54; le Milord jugea … que Syrene … deviendroit une Espece de Bardane, pag. 236; une Cloaque, pag. 273; et sur-tout cet admirable Vers,

Fuiez la dangereuse Beauté des. Coquettes,

pag. 266: en sorte qu'on peut très légitimement conclurre, qu'ainsi que le Crispin Médecin de Haute-Roche étoit aussi habile en Astrologie qu'en Médecine, le Traducteur |366| de l'Anti-Pamela n'est guere moins habile en Vers qu'en Prose.
  AU RESTE, les Lecteurs François lui doivent être fort redevables de leur avoir épargné la Lecture de quantité de Saletez, dont les Lecteurs Anglois sont en Possession de ne s'effaroucher pas de même.

* * * * *

|358|
ARTICLE VII.
I.


The Anti-Pamela, or False Innocence, Discovered in The Adventures of Syrene: A True Story, Attested by Everyday Experience, Written to Serve as a Preservative for Young Men Against the Tricks of Flirts, and Translated from the English by Mr. de M***. Amsterdam, Arkstée [and] Merkus, 1743, in 12mo, 445 pages, without the Advertisement.

This Anti is a Moral Novel, written to refute another of the same kind, composed by a Mr. RICHARDSON, entitled Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, and in which, according to the Advertisement preceding it, the Rules of Verisimilitude are rather poorly observed.
  Indeed, it is said, one is surprised, upon reading this work, to see a girl, whom we are told is a simpleton, reasoning sometimes like a philosopher, sometimes like a theologian; a girl who has an almost unheard-of attachment to virtue; and who, nevertheless, is the greatest charlatan and the most ambitious in the world. She wants and she doesn't want: she seems to love virtue only to throw dust in people's eyes and to better achieve her ends. In short, she is such a complicated character, |359|, that on every page of the book one thinks one sees another heroine…. And one could perhaps add many other things about its faults, and those of its praise: for example, the crudeness, even the brutality, of the hero's initial proposals and actions, which cannot help but repel any reader with even a modicum of refinement and sense; and the ridiculous envy of becoming the mistresses and wives of their masters, which the sheer volume of PAMELA's coquettishness can so easily, yet naturally, inspire in the small minds of countless foolish and imbecilic creatures whom her adventure has seduced.
  It will not be necessary, continues the already-cited Advertisement, to apply these general reproaches to SYRENE. Here, the character is consistent from beginning to end. She is always a coquette, ignorant of everything except the art of deception, in which she excels. We even see her skill grow with her age; and, by an effect common to coquetry, her taste for debauchery increases as she becomes more accustomed to men; and, in the end, she grants through libertinism what she previously yielded only through self-interest… PAMELA is unfortunately a kind of phoenix, which is found nowhere else. SYRENE is a character who is found in every country and in every city of the world. In short, we see with pleasure, in this novel, the real and naive picture of the life, the ruses, |360| and the extreme debaucheries of debauched women; instead, we see at first with regret that the other is only a Tale made for pleasure, forged in the Author's Cabinet, who always speaks there, without almost ever letting a simple and modest Girl speak, as he should have according to his Plan, whose amiable Naiveté would have given a hundred times more Pleasure to any judicious Reader than all the quintessential and mystical Refinements of Love, which are very clumsily attributed to him. If it is true, as is claimed, that a preacher from Southwark had no difficulty publicly recommending the reading of this historical romance from the pulpit, then one should not hesitate to recommend likewise that of Telemachus, Guzman d'Alfarache, and some other moral romances of the same kind: for the moral lessons given therein are much more skillfully embedded, much more judiciously distributed, and consequently much more likely to produce a happy success.
  To perfectly match the title Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, the Refutation in question here might perhaps have been entitled Anti-Pamela, or Vice Punished, since indeed every criminal scheme of Syrene is always thwarted by its lack of success: in which respect the author's conduct and lessons appear very judicious and highly worthy of approval. In any case, these Adventures, which |361| number IX, can indeed serve as a safeguard against the wiles of coquettes: and this is something one can form an idea of from the following detail.
  I. In the first story, Syrene, reluctantly apprenticed to a seamstress and well-instructed by her mother, a woman of considerable experience and intrigue, never to become attached to anyone except for self-interest, but led astray by her inclination towards pleasure, falls foolishly in love with a swindler of a lieutenant, whom she cleverly lures into a tavern, where, by means of a pair of stockings and several glasses of double-strength ratafia, he finally obtains her gloves. After which, over some feathers she tries in vain to pluck from him, he leaves her pregnant with his child; but, with the help of a potent brew, her worthy mother, a woman of long standing familiar with crime, soon rescues her from this predicament.
  II. The second takes place in a House of Quality, where Syrene, placed to read beside an old Lady and to look after her Room, finds a way to ensnare her son-in-law and his son-in-law, to whom she finally gives herself, but whom she immediately accuses of having raped her. He was about to be forced to marry her or exposed to the rigors of Justice, if a letter, imprudently written by Syrene's Mother and fortunately delivered to the Young Man's Family, |362| had not finally uncovered their wicked plot.
  III. The scene in the third scene took place in Greenwich, where Syrene, already kept by a Portuguese merchant, becomes embroiled in two further affairs, one with a ship's captain, and the other with a young man of distinction. This young man, having discovered that her treachery and his mother's wickedness had caused the death of his fiancée, heaps the most violent reproaches upon her, abandons her in horror, and goes to America to bear his grief and regrets.
  IV. The opera and the masquerade were the occasion for the fourth scene, in which Syrene is seen quite cavalierly latching onto a lord disguised like herself, spending the night with him in a most voluptuous manner; after having brazenly pursued him even to his own home, receiving the bitterest mockery and the most crushing threats. and, finally, to be most ignominiously driven out.
  V. One notices in the fifth one with what ease she mercilessly fleeces an idiotic merchant who, having finally discovered his infidelity and roguery in favor of an adventurer, and seeing himself nearly ruined, wants to kill himself, but is prevented by his wife, who generously forgives his indiscretions, while, on the other hand, Syrene and her gallant, after having promptly squandered |363| what they had stolen from her, quarrel, fight, and finally part forever.
  VI. In the sixth scene, we see the Syrene brutally abandon herself to her insatiable hunger for men, surrendering herself without restraint not only to the eager desires of a Lord who entertained her in his chamber, but also to the brutal outbursts of every passerby, from whom she invariably receives very poor gifts, which she then passes on to the Lord, who only refrains from treating her as she deserves so as not to become a laughingstock to the public at her expense.
  VII. The seventh, one of the most interesting in the whole book, represents Syrene as having fortuitously made acquaintance in the park of Saint James with an old widowed gentleman, who takes her to manage his house, and whose mind she knows so well how to seize, by her modest and hypocritical demeanor, that he was about to marry her, if his son, whom he was presenting to her, had not taken four steps back in astonishment, and if she herself at his sight had not thrown a great cry of surprise, which threw the good man into an embarrassment even greater than theirs. The outcome was that this young man threw himself at his father's feet, begged his forgiveness for his debauchery, and sincerely confessed that this creature was a most shameless prostitute who had passed through his hands many times |364| in various disreputable places; which immediately led to her not only being stripped of the magnificent clothes and precious jewels with which she had been adorned, but even ignominiously taken from a rich and powerful household, of which she was to become the mistress.
  VIII. The hero of the eighth tale was a young man from a fairly good family, but at least as destitute as Syrene, whom she ruthlessly stripped of every last penny under the pretext of marriage. But, having finally caught him in the act with the first adventurer who had seduced her, both, indignant at being equally deceived and tricked, heaped insults upon her and abandoned her to her wicked ways.
  IX. The ninth and last began at an auction, from which a gentleman took her to put her in a chamber, from which his extremely jealous wife in turn took her, to be taken, by order of the magistrate, to a prison of prostitutes, while waiting to be shamefully driven out of London, and relegated to the depths of Wales.
  Such are the first adventures of Syrene, which naturally lead one to expect more. And if it is true that she was only seventeen at the time, as the book expressly states somewhere, she could quite rightly parody for herself that famous line from Corneille's Le Cid: |365|

   I am young, it is true; but, for ill-born souls,
  Vice does not wait for the number of years.

It may perhaps be useful to add that the two translations of these novels, Pamela and Anti-Pamela, are by no means well written, and very often reflect the altered language of the places inhabited by their authors. Without dwelling on the first, which is quite irregular in the London edition, and which for this reason has had to be readjusted as best as possible in many places in the Amsterdam editions, it will suffice to point out here some Irregularities of the second, such as the Barette left by a Girl, p. 3; a Seamstress, p. 4; turning Dispositions towards Desires, p. 7; taking a Tour of the Court, p. 24, and similarly pag. 31, 42, etc.; it was ferocious, p. 25; torturing oneself, p. 54; the Lord judged… that Syrene… would become a Kind of Burdock, p. 236; a cesspool, p. 273; and above all this admirable Verse,

Flee the dangerous beauty of… Coquettes,

p. 266: so that one can very legitimately conclude that, just as Crispin Physician of Haute-Roche was as skilled in Astrology as in Medicine, the Translator |366| of Anti-Pamela is scarcely less skilled in Verse than in Prose.
  Moreover, French readers owe him a great deal of gratitude for having spared them the reading of a quantity of filth, which English readers are fortunate enough not to be so alarmed by.