But Raleigh was not a mere dreamer, as his History of the World shows—­a work which, written during his long years of captivity, became the text-book and standard authority for the next two hundred years.  Whatever his faults, and he had perhaps grave ones, it was his misfortune to be in some ways in advance of the age in which he lived, in consequence of which his finer qualities were misunderstood by most of his contemporaries.  Prince Henry was not, however, among their number; he lent a fascinated ear to Raleigh’s grand, patriotic schemes, and had they both lived, the one to reign, the other to counsel and guide, England might not only have been spared the most disgraceful blot on her escutcheon, but have anticipated by more than two hundred years her subsequent achievements.  It was without doubt Sir Walter Raleigh who inspired the young prince to take the Royal library under his protection, and his pupil threw himself heart and soul into the work, so that rightly or wrongly he has been considered its real founder.

On the death of John, Lord Lumley, Prince Henry secured his fine collection of MSS., by which means he more than made up for the loss which the Royal library had sustained by his father’s incomprehensible warrant to Sir Thomas Bodley to choose any of the books in any of his houses or libraries.*

* Reliquiae Bodleiana, p. 205.

Lord Lumley had not only been a diligent collector himself, but had inherited a valuable library from his wife’s father, Henry Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel, who had begun to collect at the most propitious moment for acquiring rare MSS., and had obtained a portion of Archbishop Cranmer’s library.  The prince’s Privy Purse Expenses have unfortunately been destroyed, but one single entry of the year 16og, bearing reference to his books, has survived:  “To Mr. Holcock, for writing a catalogue of the library which his Highness hade of my Lord Lumley, 68 pounds, 13s. 0d.”  This catalogue has unfortunately disappeared.

Edward Wright, the mathematician, and the learned Patrick Young were both candidates for the post of librarian, and Wright was appointed with a salary of 30 pounds a year.

Besides purchasing Lord Lumley’s books, the young prince acquired the entire collection of the erudite Welshman, William Morice, and an unprecedented stir and activity began to animate the affairs of the Royal library.  Scholars saw in the Prince of Wales their future stay and protector, and looked forward to his reign as to that of the first English king in modern times, who would not merely patronise, but also extend learning by his inherent love of, and zeal for, letters.  But this fair prospect was doomed to fade, even as they were contemplating it, and the hope of England died in the very midst of all his literary labours.  The books which he had collected were mainly incorporated into the Royal library, but many were dispersed after his death.  Scattered up and down the country may still be seen volumes in private collections bearing the tell-tale conjoined names, “Tho.  Cantuariensis—­Arundel—­Lumley.”