Since the appearance of M. Poulet Malassis's work, book-plate collecting in France, as well as in other countries, has been vigorously carried on, and earlier examples of dated French book-plates than those then known have come to light. The most ancient of these is one dated 1574 (the same year, it will be noted, as that of the plate of Sir Nicholas Bacon), but it is simply typographical, having no kind of design whatever. It reads: 'Ex bibliotheca Caroli Albosii E. Eduensis. Ex labore quies.' No Armorial book-plate bearing an engraved date appears in France until thirty-seven years later, when we, at last, meet with that of Alexandre Bouchart, Vicomte de BlossÉville, engraved by LÉonard Gaultier, and, in the copy in the BibliothÈque Nationale, dated 1611. A variety of this book-plate, undated, unsigned, and probably not by the same hand, exists in the collection of Sir Wollaston Franks. The field in the Bouchart arms is gules, though the lines shown in the engraving of the undated plate would, according to the present system, represent it as azure (see remarks on this point at p. 22). After the Bouchart book-plate, we have, in 1613, that of Melchior de la VallÉe, Canon of Nancy, given by M. Poulet Malassis as dated in 1611, and then, in 1644, a roughly-executed anonymous book-plate signed 'Raigniauld Riomi, 1644.' The arms are untinctured, and leaflike mantling falling from the helmet surrounds the shield; there is no crest. Raigniauld—or, as the modern spelling of the name is, Regnault—is not a known engraver. Riomi is an old-fashioned town of Auvergne.

Other French book-plates of the seventeenth century, both dated and undated, exist; but France is undeniably behind Germany both in the number of her early book-plates and in their beauty; for instance, we do not in France find those numerous book-plates of ecclesiastical corporations which so much swell the list of early German examples. The subject of French ecclesiastical book-plates has, indeed, received special treatment from Father Ingold, himself a French ecclesiastic; and he is compelled to admit that such book-plates are not numerous and not ancient. The old way seems to have been for the monastic official in charge of the convent library to inscribe each volume with some appropriate inscription. These are in themselves interesting; but book-plate lovers must regret the existence of the fashion. The earliest French ecclesiastical book-plates belong to the middle of the eighteenth century, and, like the 1574 example already noticed, they are mere typographical labels, possessing little more artistic merit than is usually displayed in a post-mark.

With regard, however, to the book-plates of ecclesiastical individuals, the case is different; some of them engraved during the seventeenth century are ambitious and interesting. A particularly quaint example is found in the book-plate which an Annecy engraver, named Sinton, executed for Charles de Sales, the energetic labourer in the cause of religion, brother of St. Francis de Sales, and his successor in the Bishopric of Annecy. Lord De Tabley thus describes the book-plate:—'The family arms are shown in a shield, which appears very gigantic, in a frame of heavy curves, which is set in the centre of a huge sideboard-like monumental structure. On the top ledges of this, two full-grown, long-skirted angels, seated right and left, uphold the episcopal hat (with its usual knotted ropes and tassels) in air above the escutcheon.

'At the base of the structure, to the right, appears a figure of St. Francis de Sales, seated, holding an olive branch in one hand, while beneath his other arm is a profuse cluster of fruit. To the left, also seated, is a portrait of St. Jane Frances De Chantal, holding a palm-branch, also with fruit beneath her other arm. Each portrait is realistic, and not in the least flattered. Between them is a medallion bearing the crossed papal keys.'

The probable date of this very curious book-plate is 1642. It appears earlier, but this may be accounted for by the fact that the work is provincial. Students will do well to remember that provincially executed book-plates, English or foreign, are often misleading in this respect.

There is a somewhat elaborate book-plate, engraved in several sizes, and dated in 1692, which introduces the cardinal's hat, mitre, and crozier, and which was prepared to place in the books given by Dr. Peter Daniel Huet to the Paris Jesuits. Huet is himself an interesting figure in French literature. In 1670 he was made tutor to the Dauphin, and whilst so employed he assisted in bringing out the sixty-two volumes of classics, specially prepared for his pupil, known as the Delphin edition. He became Bishop of Avranches in 1689, but ten years after resigned his see in order to devote the remainder of his life to literature, which he did, completing amongst other voluminous works a defence of the doctrine of Christianity.

It is from their possessors that French book-plates derive their chief interest; and these possessors are[139]
[140] for the most part persons who lived at a late date. Amongst the few early celebrities is the soldier-poet of France, Francis de Malherbe, of whom it has been said that he was as lax in morals as he was rigid in his zeal for the purity of his native language. His book-plate is figured at p. 25, and is interesting as showing that no reliance can be placed on lines, apparently expressing the colour of the shield in early Armorial book-plates (see pp. 21-22). He died in 1628. The books containing this very pleasing book-plate passed after De Malherbe's death to Vincent de Boyer, in whose family they remained till the Revolution; after that they were dispersed.

Coming to later times, we find a charming book-plate, engraved by Le Grand for the unfortunate Countess Dubarry. Her books were well chosen and well bound, but they were few in number; hence her book-plate is rare, but it may be seen in the library at Versailles, where most of her books are preserved. Though she could not read, she seems to have felt in duty bound to follow 'La Pompadour' in getting together a library to amuse her royal master.

From the book-plate of the countess—a woman who, after aiding in the general degradation of the French court, was willing to risk her life for those whose downfall she had in a measure assisted in bringing about—we may appropriately turn to that of Cardinal Maury; the inscription on which reads: BibliothÈque particuliÈre de son Eminence Mgr. le Cardinal Maury. This book-plate calls to mind a famous figure in the French Revolution,—a fervent preacher, the spokesman of his fellow-clergy before those who were but little inclined to listen to argument; the calm-minded man, who would turn round and give a witty retort to a cry raised by the mob which followed through the streets of Paris, clamouring for his blood.

The mention of these names leads one naturally to speak generally of book-plates engraved about the time of the French Revolution,—a period which is immortalised in a singular manner on French book-plates. M. Poulet Malassis remarks that many a noble library owner took good care to alter his book-plate in those troublesome times, and to replace the coronet which had surmounted the family escutcheon by the Phrygian cap of liberty. For instance, the Viscount de Borbon-Busset in 1793 changed his Armorial book-plate to a simple inscription—in which he calls himself 'Citoyen FranÇois'—surrounded by a leafy garland. The same fashion is exemplified even in clerical examples. Father le Mercier in his first book-plate displays the coronet which he either was, or at least considered himself to be, entitled to bear; but between 1789 and 1792 we find a second example of his book-plate, with a simple decorative finish to the top of the design in lieu of the coronet. At that time there was in France, as Mr. Walter Hamilton puts it, 'an awkward fashion of putting heads accustomed to coronets under the falling knife of the guillotine.'

As far as the classifying of the leading styles in French book-plates goes, M. Poulet Malassis does not really help us much; and we cannot but hope that ere long some enterprising French collector will undertake the task. There is certainly, as M. Poulet Malassis observes, a resemblance—as the reader will see by turning back to the illustration of De Malherbe's book-plate—between the style of the first French book-plates and that of the first English; and it is noteworthy that the style disappeared in both countries much at the same time. Again, French book-plates of 1720-1730 bear distinct traces of what we have called 'Jacobean' work in speaking of English examples.

The French Rococo book-plate is really analogous to our 'Chippendale.' There is, however, a greater variety both of subject and treatment in each French style than one finds in England.

Allegory is, as I stated in Chapter iv., more frequent and more wild in French book-plates than in those of England. The follies of his own countrymen in this respect are fully recognised by M. Poulet Malassis, who, in most amusing style, deals with some of the more pronounced examples; as for instance the rollicking allegory displayed in the book-plate of M. HÉnault, President of the French Academy. The date of this remarkable production may be fixed at 1750; it is designed by Boucher and engraved by Count de Caylus, and we see that Minerva has honoured M. le PrÉsident by placing his family arms upon her shield. Very wonderful, too, is the book-plate of the AbbÉ de Gricourt, whose arms are borne heavenwards by a vast company of angels. This example, which is approximately of the same date as the last, is the work of the AbbÉ's brother, A. T. Ceys, who was himself an ecclesiastic. Often the allegory displayed has allusion to the owner's business or his tastes, as on that of M. Gueullette, a French novelist and dramatist of the first half of the last century, the popularity of whose writings, although those writings are numerous, has not outlived him. This book-plate is the work of H. Becat, and is inscribed after the Pirckheimer manner, 'Ex libris ThomÆ Gueullette et Amicorum.' The family arms are supported by an Italian harlequin, a Chinese mandarin, a Cyclops holding an infant, and a Tartar. Now the presence of these strange inhabitants of a book-plate is accounted for thus. Gueullette wrote farces for the Paris stage, and he also wrote 'Contes Tartares' and 'Les Aventures du Mandarin Fum Hoam.' Below the shield water pours from a satyr's mouth into a basin containing a mermaid, and above soars Cupid in clouds, bearing aloft a scroll and motto. This, says 'W. H.' in the Ex Libris Journal, is probably one of the earliest book-plates on which appear allegoric allusions to its owner's tastes and literary labours.

The Typical or Personal book-plate is also found in France in that of the Chevalier de Fleurieu, described by Mr. Egerton Castle. During the ancien rÉgime he was a naval officer, who, whilst still low in the service, was intrusted with the testing of various new marine appliances. On the book-plate we get the bird's-eye view of an island, on which are strewn the said marine appliances, and behind them stands the Chevalier's coat of arms.

A recent writer on French book-plates, M. Henri Bouchot, goes so far as to think a book-plate may be of service as exhibiting a man's character. It may be so with regard to Frenchmen and French book-plates, but if this principle of argument be applied to English book-plates, all I can say is, that the possessors of English book-plates in the closing years of the seventeenth century and the opening years of the eighteenth must have been singularly alike in their personal characteristics!

The 'Library Interior' book-plate is found in France as early as 1718, in an anonymous book-plate described by Mr. Walter Hamilton in the Book Worm for May 1892. It shows us, in the background of a library, two men working a printing-press. In the foreground are five little winged cupids at play with books and mathematical instruments, whilst a female figure, representing peace and plenty, appears seated on what Mr. Hamilton conjectures to be a Pegasus. The engraving is by Bernard Picart, an eminent engraver, who, though a Frenchman by birth, settled at Amsterdam in 1710 (he died in 1733) and was evidently much influenced by the then prevailing style in Dutch art. He executed another very beautiful 'Library Interior' plate (figured opposite) for[145]
[146] Amadeus Lulin, a Savoyard. Here we have the interior of a French library of the period, with a curved roof. At the end of the room is a window and beneath this a Louis XV. table. In the foreground the same cupids 'play with books,' which, by the way, they are treating exceedingly badly. Caryatides at the sides form a frame for the plate. On the breast of one is a sun; the other holds a heart. A globe surmounts each. The arms are shown in the centre of the design at the top.

Other examples of French book-plates of this kind are found quite late in the century, and any one who feels specially interested in the subject of these, and indeed of 'Library Interior' book-plates as a whole, will do well to study Sir Arthur Vicars's valuable treatise and lists in the pages of the Ex Libris Journal.

About the book-plates of countries other than Germany and France there is not very much to be said. Sweden has given us an insight into its native book-plates.[9] Herr Carlander tells us that the earliest date on a Swedish book-plate is 1595, which occurs on that belonging to Thure Bielke, a senator who, having mixed himself up in political strife, lost his head by a stroke of the executioner's axe five years later. Senator Bielke was evidently far in advance of his fellow-countrymen as regards such matters; for no other dated Swedish book-plate occurs for a considerable number of years. In the eighteenth century, however, Swedish book-plates became much more numerous, and some of the more prominent native engravers appear to have worked upon them, producing a few singularly fine examples in the Rococo style; library interiors also appear occasionally on Swedish book-plates. One of the most interesting late examples of book-plates of this country is that of King Charles XIII. On this we have the royal arms of Sweden, surmounted by the collar and cross of the order of the Seraphim, and the king's motto, 'Folkets wÄl mint hogsta lag'—'The people's weal my highest law.' I imagine that this book-plate may be placed at the close of the last century. Charles died in 1818.

Swiss book-plates are numerous and early. The first dated example occurs in 1607. Their general style is not pleasing, since it presents a stiffness and awkwardness in the arrangement of the decoration. Italian book-plates, again, possess few remarkable features. Perhaps their leading characteristic is the extreme coldness of their engravers' touch. One of these engravers was, however, a famous man, whose work deserves more than passing mention. I mean Raphael Morghen, the Florentine artist, who died in 1833, and who is said to have been able to engrave a plate when he was only twelve years old. It is curious to turn from his large engravings of the chief works in the gallery at Florence, to the unusually small work which enables us to reckon him here among the engravers of book-plates. This is a representation of the arms of the Duke of Cassano Serra, framed in a shelly frame, somewhat 'Chippendale' in appearance, but with the stiff, heavy 'Jacobean' wreath clinging closely to it. In a scroll which winds in and out of this wreath is the inscription: 'Il Duca Cassano Serra'; it is signed 'R. Morghen f[ecit].'

A careful investigation of the Vatican and other Italian libraries would probably lead to the discovery of some more papal book-plates. Sir Wollaston Franks tells me that amongst his numerous engravings of the papal arms, there is only one which he feels sure was ever used as a book-plate. The late Sir George Dasent, in Notes and Queries,[10] describes what he considers the book-plate of Maffeo Barberini, Urban VIII.; but he does not tell us what leads him to the belief that the engraving is really a book-plate.

About Spanish book-plates not much is yet known, and it seems likely that the majority of examples usually classed as Spanish were designed and executed in Flanders. The family of Bouttats—the original Bouttats had, says Walpole, twenty sons, of whom twelve became engravers—executed some of these book-plates. Amongst their work is one which Lord De Tabley styles 'a gloomy yet striking heraldic study'; it is signed 'P. B. Bouttats, sculp.,' and was probably engraved about the middle of the seventeenth century. It shows us the arms of a bishop surmounted by a plumed helmet, above which again is a bishop's hat, with pendent ropes and tassels; beneath is the motto: 'Por la Leÿ Bezerra ÿ por el RËy.' A particularly fine example of Flemish heraldic art is furnished by the book-plate engraved and signed by J. Harrewyn, of Brussels, and dated 1723; the inscription gives us quite a biographical sketch: 'Messire Charles Bonaventure, Comte vander Noot, Baron de Schoonhoven et de Mares &c^a; Conseiller de sa Ma^te Imp^le et Cath^e au souverain Conseil de Brabant par patante du 9 Mars 1713, ReÇu aux Etats nobles de Brabant, fils de Messire Rogier Wouthier, en son vivant Baron de Carloo &c^a; et deputez ordinaire au dit corps de la noblesse des Etats de Brabant, et de Dame Anne Louÿse vander Gracht, nÉe Baronne de Vrempde et d'Olmen, &c^a.'

Our knowledge of Russian or Polish book-plates is chiefly derived from the illustrations shown in Monsieur S. J. Siennicki's work, entitled Les Elzevirs de la BibliothÈque de L'UniversitÉ ImpÉriale de Varsovie. Here we have some examples of the book-plates both of distinguished laymen and ecclesiastics. The probability is that none are of an early date, and they are certainly not conspicuous as works of art. The Russian style is perhaps the more distinct, though in many respects resembling the French, especially that shown in the more pronounced examples of the Louis XV. epoch.