HENRIQUES

1p., 8vo. Laid down on a piece of card. Aged and discoloured, with chipping to extremities and some loss of text. The poem is sixteen lines long, arranged in two eight-line stanzas. The first stanza reads: '"Sometimes" - Althaea sighed - "in hours of sadness, | A sudden pleasure shines upon the soul; | The heart beats quick to half-heard notes of gladness, | And from the dark mind all its clouds unroll: | How comes this, Poet! You, who know things hidden, | Whence sounds that undersong of soft Content? | What brings such peace, unlooked-for & unbidden! | Answer me!

Sir Basil Henriques was born in London on 17 October 1890, the youngest of the five children of David Quixano Henriques (1851-1912), whose family, originally Sephardi Jews from Portugal, owned a substantial import and export business, first in Jamaica, and then in Manchester and London, and his wife Agnes (née Lucas; 1849-1919), a great-niece of Sir Moses H. Montefiore. Basil was educated, first, under the headmaster the Rev. Edgar Stogdon (1870-1951) at Elstree preparatory school, and then, from 1904 to 1907, at Harrow.

8pp., 4to. Stapled and unbound. In fair condition on aged paper. On the first page the 'object of this Review' is described as 'to provide a forum for discussion in which the organisations represented on the 18-30 Conference and their individual members can express their views on subject of common interest'. On the last page the 18-30 Conference is described as 'a consultative body', inaugurated in November 1946, 'established in recognition of the need to provide a forum for discussion on the interests of young citizens in the manifold activities of national life'.

A Christmas keepsake. Eight pages, 12mo. Unbound. Grubby but in good condition. INSCRIBED at head of title 'Having got through the Valley - R. H.' The usual French cynicism: 'Nothing can be such a bore | As: a locked door; | Or a banquet, without the least appetite for food; | Or a woman whom you have already, and finally, understood.' and 'To your spouse you owe fidelity by contract. | But discretion in infidelity is a debt of honour.' From the archive of Mark Bonham Carter.