glories of the house of Plantin-Moretus rivalled those of the
later Chiswick Press, and of the goodly Chaucers edited in our own
time by Professor Skeat, and printed by William Morris. Proof-
reading was then an erudite profession, and Francois Ravelingen,
who entered Plantin's office as proof-reader in 1564, and assisted
Arias Montanus in revising the sheets of the Polyglot Bible, is
said to have been a great Greek and Oriental scholar, and crowned
a career of honourable toil, like Hogarth's Industrious
Apprentice, by marrying his master's eldest daughter, Marguerite,
in 1565. The room in which these scholars worked remains much in
its old condition, with the table at which they sat, and some of
their portraits on the wall. Everything here, in short, is
interesting: the press-room, which was used almost continuously
and practically without change--two of the antiquated presses of
Plantin's own time remain--for nearly three centuries; the Great
and Little Libraries, with their splendid collection of books; the
archive room, with its long series of business accounts and
ledgers; the private livingrooms of the Moretus family; and last,
but not least, the modest little shop, where books still repose
upon the shelves, which looks as though the salesman might return
at any moment to his place behind the counter. England has
certainly nothing like it, though London had till recently in
Crosby Hall a great merchant's house of the fifteenth century,
though stripped of all internal fittings and propriety. Luckily
this last has been re-erected at Chelsea, though robbed by the
change of site of half its authenticity and value.

I have chosen to dwell on this strange museum at length that seems
disproportionate, not merely because of its unique character, but
because it seems to me full of lessons and reproach for an age