Coming nearer to our own day, how thankful we ought to be for the preservation of the Cotton Library.  Great was the consternation in the literary world of 1731 when they heard of the fire at Ashburnham House, Westminster, where, at that time, the Cotton MSS. were deposited.  By great exertions the fire was conquered, but not before many MSS. had been quite destroyed and many others injured.  Much skill was shown in the partial restoration of these books, charred almost beyond recognition; they were carefully separated leaf by leaf, soaked in a chemical solution, and then pressed flat between sheets of transparent paper.  A curious heap of scorched leaves, previous to any treatment, and looking like a monster wasps’ nest, may be seen in a glass case in the Ms. department of the British Museum, showing the condition to which many other volumes had been reduced.

Just a hundred years ago the mob, in the “Birmingham Riots,” burnt the valuable library of Dr. Priestley, and in the “Gordon Riots” were burnt the literary and other collections of Lord Mansfield, the celebrated judge, he who had the courage first to decide that the Slave who reached the English shore was thenceforward a free man.  The loss of the latter library drew from the poet Cowper two short and weak poems.  The poet first deplores the destruction of the valuable printed books, and then the irretrievable loss to history by the burning of his Lordship’s many personal manuscripts and contemporary documents.

 “Their pages mangled, burnt and torn,
     The loss was his alone;
 But ages yet to come shall mourn
     The burning of his own.”

The second poem commences with the following doggerel:—­

 “When Wit and Genius meet their doom
     In all-devouring Flame,
 They tell us of the Fate of Rome
     And bid us fear the same.”

The much finer and more extensive library of Dr. Priestley was left unnoticed and unlamented by the orthodox poet, who probably felt a complacent satisfaction at the destruction of heterodox books, the owner being an Unitarian Minister.

The magnificent library of Strasbourg was burnt by the shells of the German Army in 1870.  Then disappeared for ever, together with other unique documents, the original records of the famous law-suits between Gutenberg, one of the first Printers, and his partners, upon the right understanding of which depends the claim of Gutenberg to the invention of the Art.  The flames raged between high brick walls, roaring louder than a blast furnace.  Seldom, indeed, have Mars and Pluto had so dainty a sacrifice offered at their shrines; for over all the din of battle, and the reverberation of monster artillery, the burning leaves of the first printed Bible and many another priceless volume were wafted into the sky, the ashes floating for miles on the heated air, and carrying to the astonished countryman the first news of the devastation of his Capital.