I had previously heard (and think that I have before made mention) of the eagerness with which the Prince Royal of Bavaria purchases Alduses; and own, that, had I chosen to reflect one little minute, I might have been sufficiently disheartened at any reasonable prospect of success, against two such formidable opponents as the Prince and the Public Library.  However, in cases of emergency, ’tis better to think courageously and to act decisively.  I entered therefore the chamber of this Aldine bookseller, resolved upon bearing away the prize—­“coute qu’il coute”—­provided that prize were not absolutely destined for another.  M. Stoeger saluted me formally but graciously.  He is a short, spare man, with a sharp pair of dark eyes, and speaks French with tolerable fluency.  We immediately commenced a warm bibliographical discussion; when Mr. Stoeger, all of a sudden, seemed to raise himself to the height of six feet—­gave three strides across the room—­and exclaimed, “Well, Sir; the cabinet of my Lord Spencer wants something which I possess in yonder drawer.”  I told him that I knew what it was he alluded to; and, with the same decision with which I seemed to bespeak the two Virgils at Stuttgart, I observed, that “that want would soon cease; for that ere I quitted the room, the book in question would doubtless become the property of the nobleman whom he had just mentioned.”  Mr. Stoeger, for three seconds, was lost in astonishment:  but instinctively, as it were; he approached the drawer:  opened it:  and shewed me an unbound, sombre-looking, but sound and perfect copy of the first edition of the GREEK HOURS, printed by Aldus.

As I had among my papers a collation of the perfect copy at Paris, I soon discovered that Mr. Stoeger’s copy was also complete; and ... in less than fifteen minutes I gained a complete victory over the Prince Royal of Bavaria and the corps bibliographique of Messrs. Von Moll, Schlichtegroll, Scherer, Bernhard, &c.—­the directors and guardians of the Public Library at Munich.  In other words, this tiny book, measuring not quite four inches, by not quite three, was secured—­for the cabinet in question—­at the price of * * florins!!  The vender, as I shrewdly suspect, had bought it of a brother bookseller at Augsbourg,[67]of the name of KRANSFELDER (a worthy man; whom I visited—­but with whom I found nothing but untransportable Latin and German folios) for ... peradventure only the hundredth part of the sum which he was now to receive.  What shall we say?  The vender is designated by Mr. Schlichtegroll, in the preface of the last sale catalogue of the duplicates of the Public Library (1815, 8vo.) as “bibliopola honestissimus”—­and let us hope that he merits the epithet.  Besides, books of this excessive rarity are objects of mere caprice and fancy.  To return to this “bibliopola honestissimus,” I looked out a few more tempting articles, of the Aldine character,[68] and receiving