caped even such scholars as Saumaise and Casaubonthat the Greek diphthongs ai and oi cannot be shortened before consonants. Ernesti, in the preface to his Callimachus (1763), speaks of Bentley as "having distanced competition:" and another estimate, of yet higher authority, is expressed more strongly still. "Nothing more excellent in its kind has appeared," said Valckenaer-"nothing more highly finished;" "a most thorough piece of work, by which writers who respect their readers might well be deterred" from an attempt at rivalry. It is no real abatement of Bentley's desert that a few gleanings were left for those who came after him. Here, as in some other cases, the distinctive merit of his work is not that it was final, but that it was exemplary. In this particular department -the editing of fragments-he differed from his predecessors as the numismatist, who arranges a cabinet of coins, differs from the digger who is only aware that he has unearthed an old bit of gold or silver.

Meanwhile letters had been passing between Bentley and a correspondent very unlike Graevius. In 1693 Joshua Barnes, of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, was editing Euripides, and wrote to Bentley, asking his reasons for an opinion attributed to him-that the "Letters of Euripides " were spurious. Bentley gave these reasons in a long and courteous reply. Barnes, however, resented the loss of a cherished illusion. Not only did he omit to thank Bentley, but in the preface to his Euripides (1694) he alluded to his correspondent's opinion as "a proof of effrontery or incapacity." Barnes is a curious figure, half comic, half pathetic, amongst the minor persons of Bentley's story. Widely read, incessantly laborious, but uncritical and vain, he poured forth a continual stream of injudicious publications, English or Greek, until, when he

was fifty-one, they numbered forty-three. The last work of his life was an elaborate edition of Homer. He had invested the fortune of Mrs. Barnes in this costly enterprise, obtaining her somewhat reluctant consent, it was said, by representing the "Iliad" as the work of King Solomon. Queen Anne declined the dedication, and nothing could persuade poor Barnes that this was not Bentley's doing. Bentley said of Barnes that he probably knew about as much Greek, and understood it about as well, as an Athenian blacksmith. The great critic appears to have forgotten that Sophocles and Aristophanes were appreciated by audiences which represented the pit and the gallery much more largely than the boxes and the stalls. An Athenian blacksmith could teach us a good many things.

Bentley had now made his mark, and he had powerful friends. One piece of preferment after another came to him. In 1692 Bishop Stillingfleet procured for him a prebendal stall at Worcester, and three years later appointed him to hold the Rectory of Hartlebury, in that county, until James Stillingfleet should be in full orders. At the end of the year 1693 the office of Royal Librarian became vacant. By an arrangement which was not then thought singular, the new Librarian was induced to resign in favour of Bentley, who was to pay him £130 a year out of the salary of £200. The patent appointing Bentley Keeper of the Royal Libraries bore date April 12, 1694. The "Licensing Act" (Stat. 13 and 14, Car. II.) finally expired in 1694, a few months after Bentley took office. But he made the most of his time. The Act reserved three copies of every book printed in England-one for the Royal Library, one for Oxford, and one for Cambridge. Latterly it had been evaded. Bentley applied to the Master of the Stationers' Company, and exacted “ near a thousand" vol

umes. In this year he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society. In 1695 he became a Chaplain in ordinary to the King. Hitherto he had resided with Bishop Stillingfleet; but early in 1696 he took possession of the rooms in St. James's Palace which were assigned to the Royal Librarian.

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One of his letters to Evelyn-whom he had been helping to revise his Numismata, a Discourse on Medals, ancient and modern"-discloses an amusing incident. Bentley's lodgings at St. James's were next the Earl of Marlborough's. Bentley wished to annex some rooms overhead, for the better bestowal of certain rare books. Marlborough undertook to plead his cause. The result of this obliging diplomacy was that the future hero of Blenheim got “the closets" for himself. Bentley now became anxious to build a new library, and Evelyn warmly sympathises with his "glorious enterprise." It was, indeed, much needed. The books were so ill-lodged that they could not be properly arranged; Bentley declared that the library was "not fit to be seen;" and he kept its chief treasure, the Alexandrine MS. of the Greek Bible, at his own rooms in the palace, "for this very reason, that persons might see it without seeing the library." The Treasury consented to the proposal for building. But public business prevented the bill coming before Parliament, and the scheme was dropped for the time. Meanwhile Bentley's energy found scope at Cambridge. Since the civil troubles, the University Press had lapsed into a state which called for reparation. Bentley took an active part in procuring subscriptions for that purpose. He was empowered by the University to order new founts of type, which were cast in Holland. Evelyn, in his Diary (Aug. 17, 1696), alludes to "that noble presse which my worthy and most learned

friend... is with greate charge and industrie erecting now at Cambridge." In the same year Bentley took the degree of Doctor in Divinity. On Commencement Sunday (July 5, 1696) he preached before the University, taking as his text 1 Pet. iii. 15. The sermon, which is extant, defends Christianity against deism.

It is natural to ask-was Bentley yet remarked for any of those qualities which form the harsher side of his character in later life? He was now thirty-four. There is the story of the dinner-party at Bishop Stillingfleet's, at which the guest, who had been sitting next Bentley, said to the Bishop after dinner, "My Lord, that chaplain of yours is certainly a very extraordinary man.” (Mr. Bentley, like the chaplain in "Esmond," had doubtless conformed to the usage of the time, and retired when the custards appeared.) "Yes," said Stillingfleet, “had he but the gift of humility, he would be the most extraordinary man in Europe." If this has a certain flavour of concoction, at any rate there is no doubt as to what Pepys wrote, after reading Boyle's allusion to Bentley's supposed discourtesy. "I suspect Mr. Boyle is in the right; for our friend's learning (which I have a great value for) wants a little filing." Against such hints there is a noteworthy fact to be set. A letter of Bentley's to Evelyn, dated Oct. 21, 1697, mentions that a small group of friends had arranged to meet in the evenings, once or twice a week, at Bentley's lodgings in St. James's. These are the names: John Evelyn, Sir Christopher Wren, John Locke, Isaac Newton. A person with whom such men chose to place themselves in frequent and familiar intercourse must have been distinguished by something else than insolent erudition. But now we must see how Bentley bore himself in the first great crisis of his

career.

CHAPTER IV.

THE CONTROVERSY ON THE LETTERS OF PHALARIS.

WILLIAM WOTTON's Reflections on Ancient and Modern Learning (1694) give the best view of a discussion which greatly exercised the wits of the day. "Soon after the Restauration of King Charles II.," says Wotton, “upon the institution of the Royal Society, the comparative excellency of the Old and New Philosophy was eagerly debated in England. But the disputes then managed between Stubbe and Glanvile were rather particular, relating to the Royal Society, than general, relating to knowledge in its utmost extent. In France this controversy has been taken up more at large. The French were not content to argue the point in Philosophy and Mathematicks, but even in Poetry and Oratory too; where the Ancients had the general opinion of the learned on their side. Monsieur de Fontenelle, the celebrated author of a Book concerning the Plurality of Worlds, began the dispute about six years ago [1688], in a little Discourse annexed to the Pastorals."

Perrault, going further still than Fontenelle, "in oratory sets the Bishop of Meaux [Bossuet] against Pericles (or rather Thucydides), the Bishop of Nismes [Fléchier] against Isocrates, F. Bourdaloue against Lysias, Monsieur Voiture against Pliny, and Monsieur Balzac against Cicero. In