And now just one word with that gentle hunter, Mr. Thomas B. Mosher of Portland, Maine, U.S.A., who did me the honour of transferring a large portion of the above, originally written for _The Bookman_, to the pages of his beautiful 1902 edition of _The Ruba’iyat_. Of that I make no complaint, for I think it very probable that he asked and obtained my permission. What I do complain of is that, in a footnote, he falls foul of me for being “ungracious” to Colonel Prideaux in suggesting the date 1871 as the year of publication of the {191} third edition, instead of the year 1872, as Colonel Prideaux has it in his most valuable little “Notes for a Bibliography of Edward FitzGerald” 1901. Mr. Mosher says “no manner of doubt exists as to the date.” Let me tell him that I have it on the authority of one who was on intimate terms both with FitzGerald and Edwin Edwards at the time when this third edition was published that, though the book bore the date 1872 on the title, as a matter of fact it was _published_ in the autumn of 1871 and _post-dated_. If it be “ungracious” to give Colonel Prideaux a piece of information which he had not the opportunity of obtaining for himself, then I sincerely hope that all who read this volume, and find themselves better informed, as well they may, than I am, will be equally “ungracious” to me. _La plupart des hommes n’ont pas le courage de corriger les autres, parcequ’ils n’ont pas le courage de souffrir qu’on les corrige._ {192} CHAPTER X ADAPTED OR PALIMPSEST PLATES “God bless the King, I mean the faith’s defender, God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender. Who that Pretender is, and who is King— God bless us all!—that’s quite another thing.” So sang the old Jacobite John Byrom, and, taking my cue from him, I do not propose to enter here into the vexed question of James Francis Edward Stuart’s claim to this or that title.[37] It is merely a happy accident that lends me so picturesque a figure round which to group certain pictorial rarities, germane to our subject, of which little is known, and of which the _petit-maître_ will be therefore grateful for some particulars. [37] It may be mentioned that Jesse, in his _Memoirs of the Pretenders_, always calls him James _Frederick_. The history of the engraved copperplate is full of that kind of romance which peculiarly {193} commends itself to the lover of what is quaint and curious in the byways of art, and perhaps the most romantic phase of its history is that with which I am about to deal. It is the sort of romance which was inseparable from what may be called the pre-machinery days, and is as foreign to the spirit of this age as are the slashed doublets of our forefathers or the starched irrelevances of their wives.