believed to have died in great poverty; he is best known for his long
satiric mock-epic poem, "Hudibras" (1663-1678)}

Here the sheet remained several years, until at length it chanced
that Sir John's volume of autographs was placed in the hands of a
gentleman who had recently read Mr. Lumley's MS. Life of Otway. The
identity of this letter, with that copied by Mr. Lumley, immediately
suggested itself; and now the first sparks of controversy between
the Otwaysians and the Butlerites were struck in Sir John's library.
>From thence they soon spread to the four winds of heaven, falling on
combustible materials wherever they lighted on a literary head, or
collecting hands.

By the bye, the rapidity with which this collecting class has increased
of late years is really alarming; who can foresee the state of things
likely to exist in the next century, should matters go on at the same
rate? Reflect for a moment on the probable condition of
distinguished authors, lions of the loudest roar, if the number of
autograph-hunters were to increase beyond what it is at present. Is
it not to be feared that they will yet exterminate the whole race,
that the great lion literary, like the mastodon, will become extinct?
Or, perhaps, by taming him down to a mere producer of autographs,
his habits will change so entirely that he will no longer be the same
animal, no longer bear a comparison with the lion of the past. On the
other hand should the great race become extinct, what will be the
fate of the family of autograph-feeders? What a fearful state of
things would ensue, even in our day, were the supply to be reduced
but a quire! The heart sickens at the picture which would then be
presented--collectors turning on each other, waging a fierce war over
every autographic scrap, making a battle-field of every social circle.