ore things than I can remember,
above stairs, we went down to a parlor, where this wonderful bookseller
opened an old cabinet, containing numberless drawers, and looking just fit
to be the repository of such knick-knacks as were stored up in it. He
appeared to possess more treasures than he himself knew of, or knew where
to find; but, rummaging here and there, he brought forth things new and
old: rose-nobles, Victoria crowns, gold angels, double-sovereigns of
George IV., two-guinea pieces of George II.; a marriage-medal of the first
Napoleon, only forty-five of which were ever struck off, and of which even
the British Museum does not contain a specimen like this, in gold; a brass
medal, three or four inches in diameter, of a Roman Emperor; together with
buckles, bracelets, amulets, and I know not what besides. There was a
green silk tassel from the fringe of Queen Mary's bed at Holyrood Palace.
There were illuminated missals, antique Latin Bibles, and (what may seem
of especial interest to the historian) a Secret-Book of Queen Elizabeth,
written, for aught I know, by her own hand. On examination, however, it
proved to contain, not secrets of State, but recipes for dishes, drinks,
medicines, washes, and all such matters of housewifery, the toilet, and
domestic quackery, among which we were horrified by the title of one of
the nostrums, "How to kill a Fellow quickly"! We never doubted that bloody
Queen Bess might often have had occasion for such a recipe, but wondered
at her frankness, and at her attending to these anomalous necessities in
such a methodical way. The truth is, we had read amiss, and the Queen had
spelt amiss: the word was "Fellon,"--a sort of whitlow,--not "Fellow."

Our hospitable friend now made us drink a glass of wine, as old and
genuine as the curiosities of his cabinet; and while sipping it, we
ungratefully tried to excite his envy, by telling of various things,
interesting to an antiquary and virtuoso, which we had seen in the course
of our travels about England. We spoke, for instance, of a missal bound in
solid gold and set round with jewels, but of such intrinsic value as no
setting could enhance, for it was exquisitely illuminated, throughout, by
the hand of Raphael himself. We mentioned a little silver case which once
contained a portion of the heart of Louis XIV, nicely done up in spices,
but, to the owner's horror and astonishment, Dean Buckland popped the
kingly morsel into his mouth, and swal