De jure belli ac pacis libri tres : in quibus jus naturae & gentium, item juris publici praecipua explicantur / cum annotatis auctoris
1702.
Of interest is (i) that it is a work of Grotius, whose teaching on the Law of Nature largely prevails to-day; and (ii) the engraving has a hundred myriad figures of allegory.
Patuzzi, Giovanni Vincenzo. Ethica christiana sive Theologia moralis. published 1770 - 1790.
I appreciate the marbling on this parchment-bound set.
A moral glossary of the works of Thomas Aquinas printed in 1757 in two volumes. The curious five-headed beast beneath the feet of the Angelic doctor are the various errors that plagued the Church which Thomas took to task.
Another recent project:
This is a French engineer's book of maps. No place of publication and no date, but the sources quoted make the date of publication close to 1780, but not before 1779.
You'll see that the Northwest is still largely unknown. The Columbia has not yet been discovered, nor Vancouver Island, and Alaska is shown as an island.
This is a wonderful reminder that the Pacific Northwest was one of the last places on the habitable globe to really be explored.
A beautifully rebound copy of Catherine's Dialogo de la seraphica. The book itself was published in 1517, but as is the case with most 16th c. books, the original binding is lost to time.
Every so often, when I give codicological talks, someone will inevitably try to snark that we're better off reading on-line. I'm reminded of this line.
"Even the publishers, the fellows that print the books, can't see what I'm doing for them. Some of 'em refuse me credit because I sell their books for what they're worth instead of the prices they mark on them." — Morley, Parnassus on Wheels
Because I snark back, that that is the case: Some books aren't worth owning.
One of a thousand-fold editions of The Admirable Secrets of Albert the Great.
Of interest is that if the casual book buyer were to look at the publication date, 1629, he might think he's found a 17° century marvel, but this book (from binding, paper, printing, &c.) is very clearly an 18° century publication.
The photographer Tari Gunstone recently visited the library. This picture is now one of my favorites: a photograph of one of our editions of Thomas à Kempis' Imitation of Christ.
Fake peer reviewers often “know what a review looks like and know enough to make it look plausible”... But they aren’t always good at faking less obvious quirks of academia: “When a lot of the fake peer reviews first came up, one of the reasons the editors spotted them was that the reviewers responded on time,” Wager told Ars. Reviewers almost always have to be chased, so “this was the red flag."
https://arstechnica.com/science/2017/04/107-cancer-papers-retracted-due-to-peer-review-fraud/
Valerius Maximus. Dictorum factorumq. memorabilium. (1550).
One of the curators identified the printer (Séb. Gryphe) as "the pirate printer", but I cannot find a record of his ever illicitly printing.
Sébastien Gryphe, or Gryphius, second quarter of the sixteenth century, was extravagant in the way of Marks; there are at least eight, all, however, of one common type—the Griffin, sometimes quite without any sort of decorative attributes or motto, and sometimes as in the example here given.
Title: In Praise of Slowness
Author: Henry Martyn Lloyd (2017)
Synopsis: A light article on how to read philosophy; it is a short summary / review of the two books The Slow Professor (Berg & Seeber 2016) and Slow Philosophy (Walker 2016).
Link: https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/in-praise-of-slowness/