each sheet of vellum, consisting of eight pages, cost five francs ten sous, and three more francs in working off—­and that skins of vellum were frequently obliged to be had from foreign countries, owing to the dearth of them at Paris—­whereby the most extravagant demands were sometimes obliged to be complied with—­add to which, that fifteen years have passed away since these sums were paid down in hard cash,—­the amount of the original expenses is doubled.”  The volumes are in stout boards, and preserved in cases.  In one of his letters to me, respecting the sale of his vellum copy—­the worthy Professor thus pleasantly remarks:  “Je ne veux pas m’enricher avec ce livre qui, lorsque je serai cendres, aura un bien grand prix.  Je n’ai que le desir de me debarrasser d’une richesse qui m’est a charge, et ne convient nullement a un modeste et obscur particulier, comme moi.”  I subjoin the autograph of this worthy and learned Professor:  hoping yet to shake the hand heartily which guided the pen.

    [Autograph]

[160] M. Millin DIED about the middle of the following month, ere I had
    reached Vienna.  His library was sold by auction in May 1819, under the
    superintendence of Messrs. Debure, who compiled the sale catalogue.  It
    produced 53,626 francs.  The catalogue contained 2556 articles or
    numbers; of which several were very long sets.  One article alone, no.
    866., consisted of 326 volumes in folio, quarto, and octavo.  It is
    thus designated, “RECUEIL DE PIECES SUR LES ARTS, LA LITTE’RATURE, LES
    ANTIQUITE’S, en Latin, en Italien, et en Francois.  This article
    produced 4501 francs, and was purchased by the Grand Duke of Tuscany. 
    Millin had brought up from boyhood, and rescued from poverty and
    obscurity, a lad of the name of Mention.  This lad lived with him
    many years, in the capacity of a valet and private secretary.  In his
    second and last voyage to Italy, Millin declined taking him with him,
    but left him at home, in his house, with a salary of fifty francs per
    month.  Five months after his departure, in February, 1812, a great
    quantity of smoke was seen issuing from the windows of Millin’s
    apartments.  Several people rushed into the room.  They found the
    drawings and loose papers taken from the portfolios, rolled up
    lightly, and the room on fire at the four corners!  A lighted candle
    was placed in the middle of the room.  Suspicion immediately fell upon
    Mention.  They ran to his bed chamber:  found the door fastened:  burst
    it open—­and saw the wretched valet weltering in his blood ... yet
    holding, in his-right hand, the razor with which he had cut his
    throat!  He was entirely dead.  Millin’s collection of Letters from his
    numerous Correspondents perished in the flames.