and to bring home to Caen all the treasures he might discover.  He set forth upon this mission with truly public spirited ideas:  resolving (says his nephew) to do for Normandy what Dugdale and Dodsworth had done for England—­and a Monasticum Neustriacum was the commendable object of his ambition.  He promised much, and perhaps did more than he promised.  His curious collection (exclusively of the cart-loads of books which were sent to Caen) was shewn to his countrymen; but the guillotine was now the order of the day—­when Moysant “resolved to visit England, and submit to the English nobility the plan of his work, as that nation always attached importance to the preservation of the monuments, or literary materials, of the middle ages.”—­He knew (continues the nephew) how proud the English were of their descent from the Norman nobles, and it was only to put them in possession of the means of preserving the unquestionable proofs of their origin.  Moysant accordingly came over with his wife, and they were both quickly declared emigrants; their return was interdicted; and our bibliomaniac learnt, with heart-rending regret, that they had resolved upon the sale of the national property in France.  He was therefore to live by his wits; having spiritedly declined all offer of assistance from the English government.  In this dilemma he published a work entitled “Bibliotheque des Ecrivains Francais, ou choix des meilleurs morceaux en prose et en vers, extraits de leurs ouvrages,”—­a collection, which was formed with judgment, and which was attended with complete success.  The first edition was in four octavo volumes, in 1800; the second, in six volumes 1803; a third edition, I think, followed, with a pocket dictionary of the English and French languages.  It was during his stay amongst us that he was deservedly admitted a member of the Society of Antiquaries; but he returned to France in 1802, before the appearance of the second edition of his Bibliotheque; when, hawk-like, soaring or sailing in suspense between the book-atmospheres of Paris and Caen, he settled within the latter place—­and again perched himself (at the united call of his townsmen) upon the chair destined for the PUBLIC LIBRARIAN!  It was to give order, method, and freedom of access, to the enormous mass of books, which the dissolution of the monastic libraries had caused to be accumulated at Caen, that Moysant and his colleagues now devoted themselves with an assiduity as heroic as it was unintermitting.  But the health of our generalissimo, which had been impaired during his residence in England, began to give way beneath such a pressure of fatigue and anxiety.  Yet it pleased Providence to prolong his life till towards the close of the year 1813:  when he had the satisfaction of viewing his folios, quartos, octavos, and duodecimos, arranged in regular succession, and fair array; when his work was honestly done; and when future visitors had only to stretch forth their hands and gather the fruit which he had placed within their reach.  His death (we are told)[130] was gentle, and like unto sleep.  Religion had consoled him in his latter moments; and after having reposed upon its efficacy, he waited with perfect composure for the breathing of his last sigh!  Let the name of MOYSANT be mentioned with the bibliomaniacal honours which, are doubtless its due!...