Paradigm, No. 20 (July, 1996)

John Taylor and Locke’s Classical System

Chris Stray
Department of Classics and Ancient History,
University College of Swansea,
Singleton Park,
Swansea SA2 8PP.

John Taylor and his series of classical textbooks deserve our attention for several reasons. First, his attachment to a particular institution which provided him with both a market and potential authors makes him an interesting subject for a case study. On the 11th of December 1827 Taylor was appointed official bookseller and publisher to the new University of London, and his catalogues resound with the names of early UCL professors. 1 Second, his infatuation with Locke locates him within a small band who resisted the Anglican idealist onslaught against Lockean empiricism in linguistics in the 1820s and 1830s. Third, though the evidence is spotty, we can actually get an idea of the commissioning, writing and selling of the System -- something not possible for many such productions of this period. One reason for the publication of some of this evidence is that Taylor published and promoted Keats, Clare, Landor, Lamb, de Quincey and other literary figures. His educational publishing in fact constitutes a kind of second career. The two books written about him, by Edmund Blunden (1936) and by Tim Chilcott (1972), revolve around this literary activity, and thereby epitomise the general tendency to leave textbooks in obscurity. 2 Taylor is thus one of those people about whose textbookish activities we happen to know just a little, because his high-cultural connections have led students of literature to investigate everything he did.

John Taylor was born in East Retford in Nottinghamshire, the son of a printer and bookseller who had just moved there from Newark, in 1781. He went to school first at Lincoln Grammar School and then at the local grammar school in Retford; this latter during the reigns of two liberal and enlightened headmasters. He was then apprenticed to his father. In 1803, he went to London and worked for the well-known bookseller James Lackington in his ‘Temple of the Muses’ in Finsbury Square. His employer liked him, invited him to dinner several times and promised him positions of trust, but was not prepared to give him a raise, so Taylor left after a few months.

His next position was with the publishers Vernor and Hood (the latter being Thomas Hood’s father). Here he witnessed the production of what he claimed was the second book to be stereotyped in England, Robert Bloomfield’s The farmer’s boy, for which the author received £4000. In 1806 he went independent, setting up as a bookseller and binder with his friend James Hessey. In the next few years he established a circle of friends which included Richard Woodhouse, who will reappear later as author of a volume of Locke’s System. With several others, in 1811 they founded a Philological Society, actually a debating club, which lasted only a year or so.

At the same time Taylor was reading and pondering on two of his great interests: Locke and language. In 1811 Taylor and Hessey published a commonplace book with an introduction by Taylor, with an index based on Locke’s ideas. 3 In the 1810s he was working on a book called Grammar made easy, as far as I know never finished, or at least not published. 4 He was also investigating a well-known pseudonymous text, the Letters of Junius. His book The identity of Junius with a distinguished living character established, which appeared in 1816, pointed the finger at Sir Philip Francis.

The book trade was in a shaky state in this period, but the onset of continental peace in 1815 seemed to generate an atmosphere of greater confidence. Then in 1817 Taylor met Keats, and two years later Clare, and his career as a publisher of poetry took off. He defended Keats from his critics and Clare from his patrons, while adjusting the latter’s English in some cases. (It was at this point that Clare wrote, ‘Grammer [sic] in language is like tyranny in government. Curse the bitch, I’ll never be her slave.’) 5

In 1821 Taylor and Hessey bought up the London Magazine, whose editor had just been killed in a duel. For the next four years Taylor edited the magazine, and at the same time managed a version of the old Philological Society: round the table at his house sat Hood, De Quincey, Lamb, Cary and several others who wrote for the magazine. He was reputed also to be fond of talking to ‘the reverends from Cambridge’; certainly he had a lot to do with Julius Hare, who wrote for the magazine and also persuaded him to publish Landor’s Imaginary conversations.

By 1825, the magazine was losing its way and sales were declining, and Taylor and Hessey sold out. Hessey became an auctioneer, went bankrupt, and ended up running a private school. Taylor moved sideways but stayed in publishing. This was a time of publishing collapses -- one of Taylor’s contemporaries told him that ‘not more than two or three houses on Paternoster Row are safe.’ The biggest collapse was that of Constable; Taylor himself mentions ‘Hurst Robinson stopping for 500,000£.’ 6 On 11th December he was appointed the first official bookseller and publisher to the new University of London, which had been founded in the previous year. In the same year, he began to publish the translations and grammars which made up Locke’s System. In 1836 he was reappointed, and the firm became Taylor and Walton; later Taylor, Walton and Maberly. Taylor retired in 1853 and died in 1864.

This is a fairly bald summary, but it nevertheless raises some of the issues with which I want to deal. All of them would benefit from more systematic investigation than I have been able to undertake; my concern here is to sketch them in and suggest some connections.

First, there is Taylor’s abiding interest in language. In 1820 he wrote to his brother James that:

the principle of the investigation into language is one of the most important of all that have engaged the attention of men, and the consequences of it to the illustration of antiquities, history, manners and religion are such as I had scarcely foreseen. . . [but it is] plunging me into such various and abstruse disquisitions One Word leads on to another till in fact all things are drawn into the Vortex.

I am reminded of the phrase used as the title of the biography of James Murray of the OED: ‘Caught in the web of words’.

Taylor’s investigations into language fed into his discussions about archaic words with Henry Cary, whose translation of Dante he had published, and also his detective work on the Letters of Junius. A later book of his, the Emphatic New Testament, attempted to mark the text of the New Testament to show how it was to be spoken.

Related to Taylor’s fascination with language was his abiding passion for Locke, who was always his intellectual hero. 7 I have already mentioned the Literary Diary, based on Locke’s ideas on the organisation of knowledge. Taylor was no radical or materialist, but he shared Locke’s resentment of what they both saw as the intrusion of formal grammar into the inductive learning of language. As we shall see, his Classical System was inspired by an Aesop produced by Locke at the end of his life. In the nineteenth century Locke generally had a bad press, especially from those defenders of religion who saw in grammar an organised, rule-governed realm of the ideal free of the taint of materialism. This applied even to those we might see as liberals within the Anglican church. For example, Julius Hare, author with his brother Augustus of Guesses at Truth, is described by a memorialist as follows: ‘in the years around 1815-8 plunging daily deeper into the philosophy of Germany, he used to utter his dislike of "Mr. Locke and his system."‘ 8 (An interesting phrase in the present context.) The period referred to is c.1815-18.

Taylor also published extensively on two other subjects which I can only mention briefly here: currency reform and the pyramids. In the first area, his concern was to distinguish between intrinsic and conventional value, and to insist that only the latter was relevant to currency. This view can I think be linked with his ideas on language, another conventional system. 9 As for the pyramids, his work now lies in the dustheap of history, along with that of other nineteenth-century speculative writers, though at the time he convinced Piazzi Smyth, the Scottish Astronomer Royal, who became a disciple of his. Underlying Taylor’s discussions seems to be an attempt to claim the pyramid planners as ancestors of English measures, and hence a stick with which to beat his bête noire, the French metric system. He thought the Great Pyramid had been built by Noah and his sons, but as his obituarist commented in the Bankers Magazine of 1864, ‘it may be objected that in the infancy of a renovated earth, whose former population had been swept from the surface, labourers in sufficient numbers could not have been collected to raise so gigantic a structure.’ 10

Let me turn now to Taylor’s place in the educational book market of the period. When he entered this market in 1827, the general publishing scene was distinctly shaky, as I have suggested. On the other hand, urbanisation, mechanisation and Sunday schooling, among other things, had combined to generate a large popular demand for reading matter and the means to supply it cheaply. Both the size of the market and at least one way to deal with it will have been demonstrated to Taylor by his period at Lackington’s shop. But we also have an interesting additional piece of evidence: an entry in his commonplace book for 19th September, 1815:

Philips (Sir Richard) told me yesterday that in the course of last yr ending Midr he sold off 30,000 Goldsmiths Grammar of geography, 10,000 Blair’s Class Book, 75,000 Mayor’s Spelling. 11

This period, the 1810s and 1820s, was the time at which the modern textbook was born. 12 This development of the textbook itself has to do with the interaction between demand, markets, and political and religious authority. By this time the French state had intervened massively in educational provision and prescription (as had Prussia, after Napoleon’s victory at Sedan in 1807). Not so England, the land of the free. State intervention began with a whimper in 1833; free elementary education belatedly followed Forster’s Act of 1870; state secondary education had to wait until Balfour’s Act was passed, in 1902. This was partly because of the rivalry between denominational and secular educational pressure groups, which produced their own authorised and vetted reading materials. Ireland, however, was a different matter, and there the English were happy to intervene. The Kildare Place Society, founded in 1811 to promote interdenominational education, was given government grant between 1815 and 1831 which it used to produce authorised readers, spellers and other school books. The Dublin Spelling Book of 1813 and its successors set an example of authoritative, approved, vetted respectable reading for school use. It was assembled by a committee, all of whose members read the proofs before it went to the printers.

The market extended far beyond this kind of enterprise of course: for example, to the thousands of private schools, and to adults who wanted to teach themselves. This wider market was the home of the various systems which flourished in the 1820s and 1830s: first Hamilton, then Ahn and Ollendorff. The System might be seen as the marketing equivalent of the Library; the set of volumes which like the Encyclopedia Britannica in Britain, or the five-foot shelf of books promoted by Mortimer Adler and his allies at the University of Chicago, made up a saleable commodity to attract those hungry for knowledge, upward mobility or both. Among the best-known libraries was Dionysius Lardner’s Cabinet Cyclopedia, which Taylor published.

A figure of some interest here who deserves to be investigated in more depth than he has been is the right-wing French exile Louis-Philippe Fenwick de Porquet, who left Paris in 1814 and built up a textbook empire in London. By 1830 he had established himself as a publisher and bookseller, and wrote from his own warehouse. In addition, he was one of the founders of the Publishers’ Circular in 1837, and thus links the history of textbook publishing with that of the book trade in general. He makes a interesting contrast to Taylor in that he was a strong monarchist, dedicating several of his books to members of the Royal family and one to the Council of King’s College London, the conservative institution set up in 1828 to counter the influence of the ‘godless institution in Gower Street.’ Incidentally, he claimed in 1830 that there were 35,000 teachers of French in the country: an estimate which even if excessive, suggests that the true number was at least very large. Could this have been based on his sales figures?

The trend in educational publishing through the 19th century was away from institutionally specific books towards the dictates of markets, examinations and the state. But in 1827 Taylor’s strategy was to gain a stable income not just from school books, but from his University of London connection.

Taylor had probably been in touch with Henry Brougham, the moving spirit behind the new university, some time before this. Brougham had in fact reviewed his Junius book very favourably in the Edinburgh Review. In 1826 Taylor asked Brougham for support from the SDUK [Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge] for his publications, and the following year Brougham supported Taylor’s application for the post of official bookseller and publisher to the University. From the new institution Taylor obviously hoped to gain a captive market. In the month after his appointment he told his brother:

The benefit I may derive from the Univy business in the retail way is variously to be estimated. They calculate on from 1000 to 2000 students annually. If each of these spend 4£ in books the profit on the smaller number will be about 1000£ per annum. 13

The connection also gained him authors, including the professors. In a circular of October 1828 Taylor advertised a list of ‘works of the professors . . . designed for the use of students in or preparing for, the University of London.’ The list includes works by Lardner, De Morgan, Panizzi, Hurwitz, Turner, Dale, Grant, et al. Following this are advertisements for his own books by other authors, and for Locke’s System. It gives a good idea of the different elements of his list. Taylor lived in Gower Street, and presumably met the professors socially. We know that he once went to Stonehenge with George Long, the professor of Greek; and Augustus de Morgan knew him well enough to say that ‘he is by temperament a discoverer of hidden things’. 14

On the other hand, it is unclear whether he managed to sell his books for use in the school set up in 1828 as part of the University. At first run by a succession of clerical headmasters, it was taken over in 1832 by the professors of Latin and Greek. The dominant figure was Thomas Key, Professor of Latin, who was sole headmaster from 1842 to his death in 1875. Key had his own ideas about teaching language. His ideas on ‘crude forms’, taken from Sanskrit grammar, were adopted by several of his colleagues in the school, who produced books using the approach. The best known of these was John Robson, later secretary of the College of Preceptors and of UCL. His Constructive Exercises in Latin, and a parallel textbook for Greek, were both published by Taylor and Walton.

Taylor, then, was semi-attached to the university, with one foot in its captive market and the other in the larger and more speculative general book market. As his circular shows, he laid some emphasis on his position as publisher to the University. This may have caused some disquiet there at times. A hint of this appears in a mention of him in the first issue of the Quarterly Journal of Education, which was published by the SDUK. A German journal of philosophy and pedagogy is reported as announcing that ‘Locke has revived his ancient way of teaching languages’ and is having his books sold by the bookseller of the University of London. The Journal of Education writer adds that:

Mr. Taylor’s interlineary versions are not used in the Univ of London. We do not seek to pass any opinion on Mr. Taylor’s books or plan. . . The students who enter the University must be qualified to read good authors without the aid of interlineary versions. 15

We now come to Locke’s system itself. In publishing this Taylor realised a long-time ambition. In 1821 he had written to his father:

It is now 1/2 past 12 and the Opium Eater has only just left me. No one can attend to this business except myself but it cuts up all my private plans, and will deprive the world I fear of all the excellent treatises on the antiquities of Retford, the origins of language, the true way of reading the classical languages, which I always flattered myself some day I should write.

The System is basically a set of interlinear translations of Latin and Greek authors (later extended to Hebrew and German), together with grammars of the two languages. The exemplar Taylor was following was presumably the interlinear Aesop organised by Locke with Awnsham Churchill, and published by the latter in 1703. 16 The idea was to promote inductive learning without letting formal grammar get in the way. The successive editions of Locke’s Essay on Education in the 1690s show that he was becoming increasingly tetchy about the obstacle to fluent reading presented by the domination of formal grammar.

Locke, of course, stood in a long line of antigrammatical protesters. From Haloinus Cominius in the sixteenth century, through Samuel Webbe onwards, there is a line of inductivist writers and practitioners who never gained the central ground in school teaching. Taylor looking for authorities, also invokes Ascham, Milton and Colet. 17

The first books to appear were the Homer and Virgil, which were published in February 1827 in impressions of 1000 copies. By August 225 of the Virgil and 175 of the Homer had been sold; by November the impressions were sold out, and what Taylor called ‘second editions’ were issued soon afterwards. In March a mathematical system had also begun to appear, written by the poet George Darley. Another of Taylor’s authors was Dionysius Lardner, who was responsible for the Euclid which appeared in 1829. Of this Taylor said the previous year that:

. . . it is the book which in all likelihood will benefit most by the connection which its author and I have formed with the London Univ. 18

George Darley, poet and writer on mathematics, was also heavily involved with the Classical System, since he wrote the explanatory essay referred to above which also came out in 1829. 19 This was reprinted in 1836. It is a substantial pamphlet of a hundred and forty-three pages, setting out the case for inductive teaching in an expansive style and quoting at length from authorities. Darley also undertook the Aeneid, after Henry Cary’s son had made an unsuccessful attempt at the job. Homer was also attempted by young Cary, but again found to be unsatisfactory and finished by Taylor himself. Cary did manage to cope with Xenophon, and Phaedrus’s Aesopian fables were given to Taylor’s friend the lawyer Richard Woodhouse, whom he had known since the days of the Philological Society in 1811.

This last volume provoked some public criticism when it went on sale in 1828, largely because of the comments which Woodhouse inserted and Taylor presumably allowed to remain. On page 61 is the fable of Mons parturiens, the mountain which after much bellowing and thundering gives birth to a mouse. A footnote states that ‘this fable is applicable to the "Hamiltonian System" and to others of pretension and authority’. James Hamilton was the author of a rival series of interlinear translations which became very popular; indeed, an Aesop in his series was published in 1828, the same year as Woodhouse’s volume.

The criticism of Woodhouse’s Aesop came from a somewhat unexpected quarter: a bookseller in Bath. The probable explanation is that Woodhouse had close connections with Bath; both he and Taylor had spent holidays in the nearby village of Claverton. It is likely, therefore, that they took copies of the System to circulate in Bath, and that this provoked the pamphlet printed there soon after the Aesop appeared. This was entitled The London University Press and was probably written by the local bookseller, stationer and circulating librarian John Upham, for whom it was printed. 20 The copy in the Bodleian Library hid for many years beneath the miscatalogued heading ‘University of London Press’. 21

The burden of Upham’s critique is that the editor of Aesop has indulged himself by introducing contentious issues, especially matters of contemporary political debate, in a manner unacceptable in a school book:

In the name of common sense and common decency, what have boys to do with such terms and topics as the following: -- reform -- city politics -- nostrums -- counterfeit presentments -- Love, law and physic…et hoc genus omne? 22

Upham was particularly incensed by the editor’s gloss on ‘osculum’:

osculum is a diminutive from os, the mouth, often translated as a kiss, as if little mouths were proper for kissing, though Mister Moore quotes an authority to the contrary.

Upham’s comment is, ‘O tempora, O mores!’ 23

The reference to reform reminds us that political controversy was much in the air at this time. But we should also remember that the Aesopian fable had long been a popular way of satirising political opponents. 24 For example, in 1831 Roake and Varty published Aesop in Downing Street, allegedly produced ‘under the superintendence of a society for the diffusion of useful knowledge’ (a dig at the SDUK). This includes fables entitled, The badger and reform: addressed to a certain prime minister. The tools and talents and The peer and the dustman. The first of these uses the hierarchy of the animal kingdom as a metaphor for society, and contains the memorable couplet:

But surely all must think the Ass
At least is of the middle class. 25

This serves to remind us that in a society where linguistic and social hierarchies to some extent ran parallel, the publication of interlinears threatened the barriers between the vernacular of the common people and the classical languages which symbolised the status of their social superiors.

To gain a full understanding of Locke’s System, we need to locate it at the intersection of several different early nineteenth-century contexts: linguistic and pedagogical theory and ideology, social and economic change, the open market for books and the various, nooks and crannies of institutional demand and prescription. Taylor’s case is of some interest because of its relation to the contemporary emergence of the modern textbook; his own rather bizarre range of pursuits; and because he exemplifies the tendency to focus on high culture and to relegate the production of textbooks to the sidelines. In this case, though, we should be grateful that current interests have left some of his writings in even greater obscurity, since nobody has yet investigated in depth his books on currency reform or the Pyramids. 26




1. The institution called in its draft charter the London University College began its life as the University of London, then in 1836 was renamed University College, London. The comma, occasionally dropped in the 19th century, finally disappeared in the charter of Elizabeth I. See P. Naiditch A. E. Housman at University College, London: The election of 1892 (Leiden: Brill, 1988) p. 110 nt. 43.9.

2. Blunden, E. Keats’s Publisher: A Memoir of John Taylor (Cape, 1936); Chilcott, T. A Publisher and his Circle: The Life and Work of John Taylor, Keats’s Publisher (Routledge, 1972).

3. The Literary Diary; or improved common-place book; on the celebrated plan of Mr. Locke. Taylor and Hessey, 1811. (The British Library has an 1814 issue: 11825 I28).

4. The title echoes that of a popular 18th-century grammar by Thomas Watt, based on Despauter’s earlier work. Watt’s grammar had reached a 5th edition by 1734.

5. For an excellent discussion of the issues involved, see J. Barrell English Literature in History 1730-80: An Equal, Wide Survey (Hutchinson, 1983), pp. 110-175.

6. Both quotations come from a letter to his family written by Taylor on 16 January 1826: Chilcott p. 184.

7. De Quincey claimed that Taylor’s peculiar and perhaps blind veneration for Locke stemmed from his sharing in all the dominant feelings of the dissenters. T. de Quincey Collected Writings ed. D. Masson (A. and C. Black, 1897) iii p. 130.

8. E. H. P[erowne] ‘Memoirs, p. xxii, in Guesses at Truth; by Two Brothers (Macmillan, 1897).

9. The time is surely ripe for a general analysis of the parallel theorising of language and currency, from Anglo-Saxon wordhoards onwards.

10. The Bankers Magazine. Journal of the Money Market and Commercial Digest, 1864, p. 831.

11. Qu. Chilcott p. 66, Note dated 19 September. Taylor’s commonplace books, vol. 3 (New York Public Library, Berg Collection).

12. An early use is in the title of William Hill’s Grammatical Textbook of 1830. The question of how to date the ‘textbook phenomenon’ is complicated by the shift from ‘textbooks = a book of useful texts’ to text[-]books = book of material for teaching which might also act as a teacher itself.’

13. Taylor to his brother James, 31 January 1828. My thanks to Dr. Tim Chilcott for sending me his transcription of the latter, from an original in the Taylor papers, Derbyshire County Record Office, Matlock.

14. de Morgan, S. E. Memorials of Augustus de Morgan (Longman, 1882), p. 122.

15. Quarterly Journal of Education, 1 (1831), p. 188.

16. On Locke’s Aesop see Horwitz, R. H. and Finn, J. B. ‘Locke’s Aesop’s Fables.’ Locke Newsletter 6 (1975), pp. 71-88.

17. Stray, C. A. ‘Locke’s System of Classical Instruction’ [1827-],’ The Locke Newsletter, 22, 1991, pp. 115-121. The copy of the Essay explanatory of the System at St. Paul’s School bears the signature of the 19th-century sur-master [i.e., second master], J. H. Lupton, who underlined on the cover the name of Colet, the school’s founder, whose biography he wrote.

18. Taylor to his brother James, 31 January 1828. Transcript provided by Dr. Tim Chilcott, from an original in the Taylor papers.

19. [George Darley] An essay on a system of classical instruction…the whole series being designed to exhibit a restoration of the ancient mode of scholastic tuition in Englnd, disembarrassed of its abuses (Taylor and Walton, 1829). For the attribution to Darley see Blunden, p. 247: one of a number of statements based on inspection of letters subsequently sold at Sothebys, which I have been unable to trace. Darley’s biograper, C. C. Abbott, appears entirely unaware of his involvement with the System: C. C. Abbott The Life and Letters of George Darley, Poet and Critic (OUP, 1928).

20. On Upham and his circulating library, see John Kite Libraries in Bath 1618-1954. Library Association thesis, 1966; Jennifer Tyler A dictionary of printers, booksellers and publishers in Bath . . . 1669-1830. B. A. thesis in Librarianship, Birmingham Polytechnic, 1972. Upham’s library was in operation by 1805, and still running in 1830 (ibid. pp 98-100).

21. [J. Upham] The London University Press; or, Remarks upon a late publication, entitled, A Popular System of Classical Instruction, combining the methods of Locke, Ascham, Milton & c. (Bath: printed for John Upham, 1828) [Bodleian Library 28.364 Cambridge University Z23.13.b (1207,79)].

22. [Upham] pp. 7-8.

23. [Upham] pp. 9-10.

24. See Patterson, Annabel Fables of Power: Aesopian Writing and Political History (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991).

25. Aesop in Downing Street, p. 9; British Library copy 1164.d8[2].

26. For a brief account of his writing on the latter subject see J. D. Wertham British Egyptology 1549-1900 (David and Charles, 1971) pp. 77-8.




Anon Quarterly Journal of Education, 1 (1831).

Anon Aesop in Downing Street (Roake and Varty, 1831).

Anon ‘Biographical sketch of the late Mr. John Taylor’. The Banker’s Magazine: Journal of the Money Market and Commercial Digest, 1864, pp. 824-32.

Barrell, J.English Literature in History 1730-80: An Equal, Wide Survey (Hutchinson. 1983).

Blunden, E. Keats’s Publisher: A Memoir of John Taylor (Cape, 1936).

Chilcott, T. A Publisher and his Circle: The Life and Work of John Taylor, Keats’s Publisher (Routledge, 1972).

Darley, George An essay on a system of classical instruction . . . the whole series being designed to exhibit a restoration of the ancient mode of scholastic tuition in England, disembarrassed of its abuses (Taylor and Walton, 1829).

De Morgan, S.E. Memorials of Augustus de Morgan (Longmans, 1882) p. 122.

De Quincey, T.. Collected Writings, ed. D. Masson (A. and C. Black, 1897)

Horwitz, R. and Finn, J. ‘Locke’s Aesop’s Fables’ Locke Newsletter, 6 (1975), pp. 71-88.

Kite, John Libraries In Bath 1618-1964 (Library Association thesis, 1966).

Naiditch, P., A. E. Housman at University College, London, The Election of 1892 (Leiden: Brill, 1988).

Patterson, A. Fables of Power: Aesopian Writing and Political History (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991).

Perowne, E. H. [as E.H.P.] Memoir p. xxii in Guesses at Truth: by two brothers [Augustus and Julius Hare] (Macmillan, 1897).

Stray, C. A. ‘Locke’s System of Classical Instruction’ [1827-]. Locke Newsletter, 22 (1991) pp. 115-121.

[Taylor, John] The Literary Diary, or improved common-place book; to which are prefixed an explanatory treatise; an abridgement of the Aurifodium of Drexelius, by Bishop Howe; and an index, formed with certain variations, on the celebrated plan of Mr. Locke. Taylor and Hessey, 1811 [The British Library has an 1814 issue: 11825 i 28].

Tyler, Jennifer A dictionary of printers, booksellers and publishers in Bath . . . 1669-1830. B.A. Thesis in librarianship, Birmingham Polytechnic, 1972.

[Upham, J.] The London University Press, or, Remarks upon a late publication, entitled, ‘A Popular System of Classical Instruction, combining the methods of Locke, Ascham, Milton, &c.’ (Bath: printed for John Upham, 1828) [Bodleian Library, 28.364].


 [Based on a paper given at the Colloquium meeting in University College, London, on 7th November 1992. Ed.]



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