exclaimed “Choiseul, how can one distinguish the true Bible of Sixtus V.?” “Sire, (replied the unsuspecting minister) I never was acquainted with that book.”  Then, addressing himself to Mercier, the king repeated to him—­without the least hesitation or inaccuracy—­the lesson which he had learnt in the library of Ste. Genevieve.  There are few stories, I apprehend, which redound so much to this king’s credit.

Louis gave yet more substantial proofs of his respect for his bibliographical master, by appointing him, at the age of thirty-two, to the headship of the abbey of St. Leger de Soissons—­and hence our hero derives his name.  In 1772 Mercier surrendered the Ste. Genevieve library to Pingre, on his return from abroad—­and in the privacy of his own society, set about composing his celebrated Supplement a l’Histoire de l’Imprimerie par Prosper Marchand—­of which the second edition, in 1775, is not only more copious but more correct.  The Abbe Rive, who loved to fasten his teeth in every thing that had credit with the world, endeavoured to shake the reputation of this performance.. but in vain.  Mercier now travelled abroad; was received every where with banqueting and caresses; a distinction due to his bibliographical merits—­and was particularly made welcome by Meerman and Crevenna.  M. Ocheda, Earl Spencer’s late librarian—­and formerly librarian to Crevenna—­has often told me how pleased he used to be with Mercier’s society and conversation during his visit to Crevenna.  On his return, Mercier continued his work, too long suspended, upon the LATIN POETS OF THE MIDDLE AGE.  His object was, to give a brief biography of each; an analysis of their works, with little brilliant extracts and piquant anecdotes; traits of history little known; which, say Chardon De La Rochette and M. Barbier, (who have read a great part of the original MS.) “are as amusing as they are instructive.”

But the Revolution was now fast approaching, and the meek spirit of Mercier could ill sustain the shock of such a frightful calamity.  Besides, he loved his country yet dearer than his books.  His property became involved:  his income regularly diminished; and even his privacy was invaded.  In 1792 a decree passed the convention for issuing a “Commission for the examination of monuments.”  Mercier was appointed one of the thirty-three members of which the commission was composed, and the famous Barrere was also of the number.  Barrere, fertile in projects however visionary and destructive, proposed to Mercier, as a bright thought, “to make a short extract from every book in the national library:  to have these extracts superbly printed by Didot;—­and to ...  BURN ALL THE BOOKS FROM WHICH THEY WERE TAKEN!” It never occurred to this revolutionising idiot that there might be a thousand copies of the same work, and that some hundreds of these copies might be OUT of the national library!  Of course, Mercier laughed at the project, and made