Under this universal
house-arrest, couriers scamper hither and yon to sustain the rest of us, who
work—or not—from home. Which means that, while bookshops are closed, I was
still able to order Richard Lewis Nettleship’s Philosophical Remains (second ed., London: Macmillan, 1901), which arrived,
despite warnings of delay from Amazon, in only three days. Thanks very much to
Savery Books of Brighton.
At 119 years old, the
volume’s in nice condition. There’s some minimal marking in pencil, which would
outrage some; but I think markings of a certain quality or curiosity can
elevate a book. And so it was in this instance.
Inside the front cover is
the ex libris plate of Geoffrey
Winthrop Young. This man was unknown to me till today. (Moral: Google the names
you find inscribed in your second-hand books.) He turns out to have been a poet
and mountaineer. (Nettleship was also a mountaineer. Perhaps this made him
interesting to Winthrop Young. Young’s father, Sir George, the third Baronet, was also a classicist like Nettleship, and his rough contemporary.) A
book of Young’s poems, Freedom
(London: John Murray, 1914), is available at archive.org. He also wrote The Roof-Climber’s Guide to Trinity
(1899), which Wikipedia
calls “in part a parody of early alpine guidebooks, in part a useful
reference work for those, like him, who were keen to clamber up Cambridge’s
highest spires.”
In the back is a piece of
yellowed foolscap, the order paper for the 15 November 1935 King’s College
London Professorial Board Election. “As no more than the required number of
nominations have been received in each Faculty, no voting is necessary…” At
that meeting was “received for appointment by the Senate” S. A. Handford, who
translated Aesop for Penguin Classics.
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