Notes and Queries, Number 67, February 8, 1851: A Medium of Inter-communication for Literary Men, Artists, Antiquaries, Genealogists, etc

In Short

This issue of a weekly Victorian periodical functions as an open forum for scholars, collectors, and curious readers seeking to resolve obscure textual, historical, and genealogical questions. Through short essays, targeted queries, and collaborative replies, contributors trace forgotten book editions, examine regional folklore, debate Shakespearean staging, and share primary historical documents. The publication endures because it captures the working methods of nineteenth-century antiquarians in real time, creating an enduring archive of collaborative research, literary preservation, and informal intellectual debate.

The Story

The issue opens with a substantial historical record: an unpublished letter from the Earl of Shaftesbury regarding John Locke. Shaftesbury recounts an anecdote demonstrating Locke’s quick wit when attending a gathering of statesmen who chose to play cards rather than converse, as well as Locke's vital role as a political secretary and defender of religious liberty. Shaftesbury also offers an explicit defense of his grandfather’s controversial parliamentary declaration, framing it as an official duty rather than a personal conviction, while acknowledging the refuge provided to him by the city of Amsterdam.

From this high-level political history, the narrative shifts directly into bibliographical investigation. A correspondent examines a rare, juvenile translation of the History of the Bible completed by an eleven-year-old scholar named Mr. Gough, attempting to identify the original French author and trace surviving copies. This is immediately followed by a note on the vital necessity of printed library catalogues, where historical statements from prominent librarians like Thomas Bodley and Thomas Hyde are marshaled to defeat contemporary arguments against cataloging.

The publication then transitions into its middle movement, driven by a wide array of public inquiries. Contributors submit brief questions regarding obscure phrases, lost musical scores, untraced poetic couplets, and forgotten theatrical adaptations. One scholar inquires into the European reach of English drama by examining a sixteenth-century Dutch translation of a tract by Robert Greene, while another reopens a historical debate regarding the true location and fate of the Black Rood of Scotland. Interspersed among these are genealogical queries regarding surname origins and local traditions like the ringing of the "Tanthony" bell.

The issue closes by delivering answers to previously raised mysteries. Correspondents untangle the mechanical realities behind Touchstone’s dial in As You Like It, contrasting poetic imagery with actual portable ring dials and oriental astrolabes. Another debate settles the origins of the poem "Winifreda," tracing its publication history to debunk mistaken attributions. Finally, reviews of recent ethno-linguistic studies and notices of upcoming book sales complete the cycle, illustrating how an initial inquiry moves from isolated curiosity to shared factual knowledge.

How It Unfolds

A statesman remembers Locke The Earl of Shaftesbury shares a private letter detailing John Locke's sharp observational humor during a card game among ministers. He goes on to justify his grandfather's political actions and highlight the sanctuary offered to English political dissidents by the city of Amsterdam.

The call for cataloging Scholars trace the history of an extraordinary childhood translation of the Bible before launching an impassioned defense of public library catalogues. They pull quotes across two centuries to prove that accessible printed indexes are essential to literary culture.

Questions across the realm The reader is presented with a rapid series of queries ranging from the Dutch adaptations of Elizabethan pamphlets to the precise location of the medieval Black Rood of Scotland. Contributors ask for missing lines of poetry, dates of rare plays, and the proper spelling of family names.

Debating the fool's dial Respondents address previous entries by explaining the real-world mechanics of pocket sun-dials and astrolabes mentioned in literature. They analyze physical instruments alongside Shakespearean text to determine what the poet intended to convey.

Resolving lost origins Letters resolve long-standing disputes over poetic authorship and historical traditions, such as the true origins of the song "Winifreda." The issue wraps up with reviews of new ethno-linguistic books and notices for upcoming library auctions.

The People

• The Earl of Shaftesbury wants to preserve the personal legacy of his foster-father, John Locke, while defending his own grandfather's controversial political career. Hindered by his own poor health and the risk of partiality, he writes to historical editors to provide primary evidence of his family's commitment to liberty.
• John Locke appears as an astute observer seeking intellectual engagement among high-born statesmen. Facing the distraction of court fashion and political danger, he uses his quiet wit and persuasive writing to shape state policy and document the conversations around him.
• Bolton Corney wants to defeat contemporary arguments against printing library catalogues, which he views as a dangerous absurdity. Facing official resistance to catalogue production, he compiles historical quotes from famous librarians to demonstrate their absolute utility to human knowledge.
• Robert Greene is featured as an ambitious Elizabethan dramatist and pamphleteer whose popular works crossed the English Channel. His writings faced the challenge of translation, yet successfully captured the imagination of Dutch readers across the sea.
• J. M. G. wants to identify the anonymous author of a French Bible history translated by an eleven-year-old prodigy. Lacking direct attribution in the original text, he reaches out to the readership to locate surviving copies and missing notes.

In Its Own Voice

"At an appointed Meeting of two or three of these Great-Men at my G'd Father's House, more for Entertainment and good company than for Business, it happen'd that after a few Compliments the Cards were called for..."

This observation from Lord Shaftesbury introduces an intimate look at how John Locke gently shamed English statesmen into abandoning card games for meaningful conversation.

"A series of notes on the utility of printed catalogues of public libraries may seem to be a superfluity."

Bolton Corney opens his defense of library organization by acknowledging the absurdity of having to prove the value of a catalogue to modern scholars.

"Your publication has been a great temptation to people with a few curious books around them to set sail their little boats of inquiry..."

A self-deprecating contributor signing as "Hermes" captures the spirit of the journal, describing how casual collectors are coaxed into participating in public research.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this text is about the democratizing of antiquarian knowledge and the power of collective intellect. Rather than relying on isolated authorities working in isolation, the periodical demonstrates that minor historical errors, lost origins, and forgotten texts can only be recovered when an entire community of readers pool their private collections and niche expertise.

The issue also wrestles with the fragility of historical memory. Whether discussing the vanishing print run of a child’s translation, the misattribution of an old love poem, or the proper cataloging of vast libraries, the underlying concern is the constant threat of loss. The contributors are united by a common urge to catch, record, and verify transient details before they slip out of cultural memory entirely.

Why Read It Today

This issue offers a fascinating window into the working minds of Victorian scholars and the informal network that existed before modern search engines. Readers who enjoy literary detection, historical trivia, or the history of books will find immense pleasure in seeing real-time debates unfold over obscure lines of poetry, medieval relics, and forgotten editions. The text feels like stepping into a bustling nineteenth-century reading room where every subscriber is eager to share a rare volume or correct a colleague's citation.

The primary difficulty for a modern reader lies in its fractured, mosaic structure and the dense, unannotated references to obscure historical figures. Contributors frequently write in Latin, Old French, or middle Dutch without providing translations, assuming a shared classical education. The language can be dryly academic, and the topics shift instantly from political history to specialized bibliographical collation. Yet, for those willing to embrace its antiquarian rhythm, the text provides a charming, highly specific record of how past generations sought to preserve their literary heritage.