Eternity of Poetry.
For deeds doe die, however noblie donne,
And thoughts do as themselves decay;
But wise words, taught in numbers for to runne
Recorded by the Muses, live for ay;
Ne may with storming showers be washt away,
Ne bitter breathing windes with harmful blast,
Nor age, nor envie, shall them ever wast.
Spenser.

   The Old Books.
The old books, the old books, the books of long ago!
Who ever felt Miss Austen tame, or called Sir Walter slow?
We did not care the worst to hear of human sty or den;
We liked to love a little bit, and trust our fellow-men.
The old books, the old books, as pure as summer breeze!
We read them under garden boughs, by fire-light on our knees,
They did not teach, they did not preach, or scold us into good;
A noble spirit from them breathed, the rest was understood.
The old books, the old books, the mother loves them best;
They leave no bitter taste behind to haunt the youthful breast:
They bid us hope, they bid us fill our hearts with visions fair;
They do not paralyze the will with problems of despair.
And as they lift from sloth and sense to follow loftier planes,
And stir the blood of indolence to bubble in the veins:
Inheritors of mighty things, who own a lineage high,
We feel within us budding wings that long to reach the sky:
To rise above the commonplace, and through the cloud to soar,
And join the loftier company of grander souls of yore.
The Spectator.

CHAPTER 25.

Humors of the Library.[3]

   Some Thoughts on Classification.
 By Librarian F. M. Crunden.
Classification is vexation,
Shelf-numbering is as bad;
The rule of D
Doth puzzle me;
Mnemonics drives me mad.
 Air—The Lord Chancellor's Song. When first I became a librarian,
Says I to myself, says I,
I'll learn all their systems as fast as I can,
Says I to myself, says I;
The Cutter, the Dewey, the Schwartz, and the Poole,
The alphabet, numeral, mnemonic rule,
The old, and the new, and the eclectic school,
Says I to myself, says I.
Class-numbers, shelf-numbers, book-numbers, too,
Says I to myself, says I,
I'll study them all, and I'll learn them clear thro',
Says I to myself, says I;
I'll find what is good, and what's better and best,
And I'll put two or three to a practical test;
And then—if I've time—I'll take a short rest,
Says I to myself, says I.
But art it is long and time it doth fly,
Says I to myself, says I,
And three or four years have already passed by,
Says I to myself, says I;
And yet on those systems I'm not at all clear,
While new combinations forever appear,
To master them all is a life-work, I fear,
Says I to myself, says I.

Classification in a Library in Western New York: Gail Hamilton's "Woolgathering," under Agriculture.


Book asked for. "An attack philosopher in Paris."

A changed title. A young woman went into a library the other day and asked for the novel entitled "She combeth not her head," but she finally concluded to take "He cometh not, she said."


Labor-saving devices. The economical catalogue-maker who thus set down two titles—

"Mill on the Floss,
do. Political economy."

has a sister who keeps a universal scrap-book into which everything goes, but which is carefully indexed. She, too, has a mind for saving, as witness:

"Patti, Adelina.
do. Oyster."

From a New York auction catalogue:

"267. Junius Stat Nominis Umbrii, with numerous splendid portraits."


At the New York Free Circulating Library, a youth of twenty said Shakespeare made him tired. "Why couldn't he write English instead of indulging in that thee and thou business?" Miss Braddon he pronounced "a daisy". A pretty little blue-eyed fellow "liked American history best of all," but found the first volume of Justin Winsor's history too much for him. "The French and German and Hebrew in it are all right, but there's Spanish and Italian and Latin, and I don't know those."


A gentleman in Paris sent to the bookbinder two volumes of the French edition of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." The title in French is "L'Oncle Tom," and the two volumes were returned to him marked on their backs:

L'Oncle,L'Oncle,
Tome I.Tome II.


   How a Bibliomaniac Binds His Books.
I'd like my favorite books to bind
So that their outward dress
To every bibliomaniac's mind
Their contents should express.
Napoleon's life should glare in red,
John Calvin's life in blue;
Thus they would typify bloodshed
And sour religion's hue.
The Popes in scarlet well may go;
In jealous green, Othello;
In gray, Old Age of Cicero,
And London Cries in yellow.
My Walton should his gentle art
In salmon best express,
And Penn and Fox the friendly heart
In quiet drab confess.
Crimea's warlike facts and dates
Of fragrant Russia smell;
The subjugated Barbary States
In crushed Morocco dwell.
But oh! that one I hold so dear
Should be arrayed so cheap
Gives me a qualm; I sadly fear
My Lamb must be half-sheep!
Irving Browne.

In a Wisconsin library, a young lady asked for the "Life of National Harthorne" and the "Autograph on the breakfast table."


"Have you a poem on the Victor of Manengo, by Anon?"


Library inquiry—"I want the catalogue of temporary literature."

Query—What did she want?

A friend proposes to put Owen's "Footfalls on the Boundaries of Another World" in Travels. Shall we let him?


A poet, in Boston, filled out an application for a volume of Pope's works, an edition reserved from circulation, in the following tuneful manner:

"You ask me, dear sir, to a reason define
Why you should for a fortnight this volume resign
To my care.—I am also a son of the nine."

A worthy Deutscher, confident in his mastery of the English tongue, sent the following quaint document across the sea:

"I send you with the Post six numbers, of our Allgemeine Militär-Zeitung, which is published in the next year to the fifty times. Excuse my bath english I learned in the school and I forgot so much. If you have interest to german Antiquariatskataloge I will send to you some. I remain however yours truly servant."


A gentlemanly stranger once asked the delivery clerk for "a genealogy." "What one?" she asked. "Oh! any," he said. "Well—Savage's?" "No; white men."


Said Melvil Dewey: "To my thinking, a great librarian must have a clear head, a strong hand, and, above all, a great heart. Such shall be greatest among librarians; and, when I look into the future, I am inclined to think that most of the men who will achieve this greatness will be women."


   A Library Hymn.
 By an Assistant Librarian.
I have endeavored to clothe the dull prose of the usual Library Rules with the mantle of poetry, that they may be more attractive, and more easily remembered by the great public whom we serve.
Gently, reader, gently moving,
Wipe your feet beside the door;
Hush your voice to whispers soothing,
Take your hat off, I implore!
Mark your number, plainly, rightly,
From the catalogue you see;
With the card projecting slightly,
Then your book bring unto me.
Quickly working,
With no shirking,
Soon another there will be.
If above two weeks you've left me,
Just two cents a day I'll take,
And, unless my mind's bereft me,
Payment you must straightway make.
Treat your books as if to-morrow,
Gabriel's trump would surely sound,
And all scribbling, to your sorrow,
'Gainst your credit would be found.
Therefore tear not,
Spot and wear not
All these books so neatly bound.
These few simple rules abiding,
We shall always on you smile:
There will be no room for chiding,
No one's temper will you rile.
And when Heaven's golden portals
For you on their hinges turn,
With the books for all immortals,
There will be no rules to learn.
Therefore heed them,
Often read them,
Lest your future weal you spurn.

Titles of Books Asked for by written Slips in a Popular Library.


Blunders in Cataloguing.


Recent Calls for Books at a Western Library.


In Vol. 3 of Laporte's "Bibliographie contemporaine," Dibdin's famous book is entered thus: "Bibliomania, or boock, madnss: a bibliographical romance...ilustrated with cats."


A well-known librarian writes:

"The Catalogue of the Indiana State Library for the year 1859 has long been my wonder and admiration. "Bank's History of the Popes" appears under the letter B. Strong in the historical department, it offers a choice between the "Life of John Tyler, by Harper & Brothers," "Memoirs of Moses Henderson, by Jewish Philosophers," "Memoirs and Correspondence of Viscount Castlereach, by the Marquis of Londonderry," and "Memoirs of Benvenuto, by Gellini." In fiction, you may find "Tales of My Landlord by Cleishbotham," and "The Pilot, by the Author of the Pioneers;" while, if your passion for plural authorship is otherwise unappeasable—if Beaumont and Fletcher or Erckman-Chatrian seem to you too feeble a combination of talents—you may well be captivated by the title "Small Arms, by the United States Army."

"The State of Indiana has undoubtedly learned a good many things since 1859; but whosoever its present librarian may be, it is hardly probable that its highest flight in bibliography has surpassed the catalogue from which the above are quoted."


Books demanded at a certain public library:


A country order for books called for "The Thrown of David," "Echo of Hummo" (Ecce Homo) and "Echo of Deas" (Ecce Deus).


The Nation mentions as an instance of "the havoc which types can make with the titles of books, that a single catalogue gives us 'Clara Reeve's Old English Barn,' 'Swinburne's Century of Scoundrels,' and 'Una and her Papuse.' But this is outdone by the bookseller who offered for sale "Balvatzky, Mrs. Izis unveiled." Another goddess is offended in "Transits of Venice, by R. A. Proctor."


In a certain city, an examination of applicants for employment in the public library was held. The following is an exact copy of the answer to a question, asking for the title of a work written by each of the authors named: "John Ruskin, 'The Bread Winners;' William H. Prescott, 'The Frozen Pirate;' Charles Darwin, 'The Missing Link;' Thomas Carlyle, 'Caesar's Column.'" The same man is responsible for saying that "B. C." stands for the Creation, and "A. D." for the Deluge.

Who wants this bright young man?


   A Story About Stories.
"When A Man's Single," all "Vanity Fair"
Courts his favor and smiles,
And feminine "Moths" "In Silk Attire"
Try on him "A Woman's Wiles."
"The World, the Flesh and the Devil"
Were "Wormwood" and gall to me,
Weary and sick of "The Passing Show,"
No "Woman's Face" was "Fair to See."
I fled away to "The Mill on the Floss"
"Two Years Ago," "In an Evil Hour,"
For "The Miller's Daughter" there I met,
Who "Cometh Up as a Flower."
She was a simple "Rose in June,"
And I was "An Average Man;"
"We Two" were "Far From the Madding Crowd"
When our "Love and Life" began.
It was but "A Modern Instance"
Of true "Love's Random Shot,"
And I, "The Heir of Redclyffe"
Was "Kidnapped": and "Why Not"?
We cannot escape the hand of "Fate,"
And few are "Fated to be Free,"
But beware of "A Social Departure"—
You'll live "Under the Ban," like me.
I tried to force the "Gates Ajar"
For my "Queen of Curds and Cream,"
But "The Pillars of Society"
Shook with horror at my "Dream."
I am no more "A Happy Man,"
Though blessed with "Heavenly Twins,"
Because "The Wicked World" maintains
"A Low Marriage" the worst of sins.
"Pride and Prejudice" rule the world,
"A Marriage for Love" is "A Capital Crime,"
Beware of "A Country Neighborhood"
And shun "Mad Love" in time.

Says the Nation:

A Philadelphia catalogue, whose compiler must have been more interested in current events than in his task, offers for sale "Intrigues of the Queen of Spain with McKinley, the Prince of Peace, Boston, 1809." How Godoy should become McKinley, or McKinley should become the Prince of Peace, is a problem for psychologists.


Confusion of Knowledge.

The following are some specimens of answers to Examinations of candidates for Library employment, given within the past five years:

"A sonnet is a poem which is adapted to music, as Petrarch's sonnets"; "a sonnet is a short poem sometimes and sometimes a long one and generally a reflection, or thoughts upon some inanimate thing, as Young's 'Night thoughts.'" "An epic is a critical writing, as 'Criticism on man'"; "an epic is a literary form written in verse, and which teaches us some lesson not necessarily of a moral nature"; "an epic is a dramatic poem."

Epigrammatic writing is very clearly defined as "critical in a grammatical way." "Allegory is writing highly colored, as Pope's works"; "allegory is writing of something that never happened, but it is purely imaginary, often a wandering from the main point." A common mistake regarding the meaning of the word bibliography results in such answers as "bibliography—a study of the Bible;" or "gives the lives of the people in the Bible." An encyclopaedia was aptly defined as "a storehouse of knowledge for the enlightenment of the public," while another answer reads "Book of Books, giving the life of famous persons, life and habits of animals and plants, and some medical knowledge." A collection of works of any author is termed "an anthropology." "Anthology is the study of insects." Folklore is defined as "giving to animals and things human sense"; an elegy means "a eulogy," oratory, "the deliverance of words." Belles-lettres is to one applicant "beautiful ideas," to another "the title of a book," to another "short stories"; again "are the letters of French writers," and still another writes "French for prominent literature and light literature." A concordance "is the explication or definition of something told in a simpler form," is the extremely lucid answer to one question, which was answered by another candidate as "a table of reference at back of book."

The titles of books are too seldom associated with their authors' names, resulting in such answers as "Homer is the author of the Aeneid"; "Lalla Rookh" was written by James Blackmore; "Children of the Abbey," by Walter Besant (while another attributed it to Jane Porter); "Bow of orange Ribbon," by George Meredith; "Hon. Peter Stirling," by Fielding; "Quo Vadis," by Browning; "Pamela," by Frank Stockton (according to another by Marie Edgworth); "Love's Labour's Lost," by Bryant (another gives Thomas Reade as the author, while still another guesses Schiller); "Descent of Man," by Alexander Pope (another gives Dryden); "The Essay on Man," by Francis Bacon.

One candidate believes "Hudibras" to be an early Saxon poem; another that "Victor Hugo's best known work is William Tell"; another that "Aesop's Fables is a famous allegory." Charlotte Brontë is described as an "American—nineteenth century—children's book." Cicero was "known for Latin poetry." "Dante is an exceedingly bitter writer; he takes you into hell and describes Satan and his angels. He wrote his play for the stage." Another's idea of the Divine Comedy is "a play which could be acted by the priests on the steps of a church for the benefit of the poorer class."

Civil service in the mind of one young woman was "the service done by the government in a country, domesticly."

A Christian socialist is "an advocate of Christian science." "A limited monarchy is a kingdom whose ruler is under the ruler of another country." Legal tender is "the legal rate of interest"; another considers it "Paper money." In economics, some of the answers were "profit-sharing, a term used in socialism, the rich to divide among the poor." "Monopolies is the money gained by selling church properties"; while "a trust is usually a place where a person puts some money where it will be safe to keep it."

About noted personages and historic events and places the answers are equally startling. "Molière was a French essayist and critic" (also "a French writer of the nineteenth century,") Cecil Rhodes, "the founder of Bryn Mawr College"; "Seth Low—England, eighteenth century;" Attila "a woman mentioned in the Bible for her great cruelty to her child;" Warren Hastings "was a German soldier" (also "was a discoverer; died about 1870"); "Nero was a Roman emperor B. C. 450." Perhaps the most unique guess in this line was "Richard Wagner invented the Wagner cars;" Abbotsford is "the title of a book by Sir Walter Scott;" "Vassar College is a dream, high-up and unattainable;" "Tammany Hall is a political meeting place in London;" "the Parthenon, an art gallery in Athens."

Pedagogy seemed one of the most perplexing of words. It was defined by one as "the science of religion," by another as "learned pomposity;" but the most remarkable of all was "pedagogy is the study of feet."


   Song of Some Library School Scholars.
Three little maids from school are we,
Filled to the brim with economy—
Not of the house but library,
Learnt in the Library School.
1st Maid—I range my books from number one.
2nd Maid—Alphabetically I've begun.
3rd Maid—In regular classes mine do run.
All—Three maids from the Library School.
All—Three little maidens all unwary,
Each in charge of a library,
Each with a system quite contrary
To every other school.
Our catalogues, we quite agree,
From faults and errors must be free,
If only we our way can see
To find the proper rule.

Boy's remark on returning a certain juvenile book to the library: "I don't want any more of them books. The girls is all too holy."


"Half the books in this library are not worth reading," said a sour-visaged, hypercritical, novel-satiated woman.—"Read the other half, then," advised a bystander.


   The Woes of a Librarian.
Let us give a brief rehearsal
Of the learning universal,
Which men expect to find
In Librarians to their mind.
He must undergo probation,
Before he gets a situation;
Must begin at the creation,
When the world was in formation,
And come down to its cremation,
In the final consummation
Of the old world's final spasm:
He must study protoplasm,
And bridge over every chasm
In the origin of species,
Ere the monkey wore the breeches,
Or the Simian tribe began
To ascend from ape to man.
He must master the cosmology,
And know all about psychology,
And the wonders of biology,
And be deep in ornithology,
And develop ideology,
With the aid of craniology.
He must learn to teach zoölogy,
And be skilled in etymology,
And the science of philology,
And calculate chronology,
While he digs into geology,
And treats of entomology,
And hunts up old mythology,
And dips into theology,
And grows wise in sociology,
And expert in anthropology.
He must also know geography,
And the best works on photography,
And the science of stenography,
And be well up on cosmography,
And the secrets of cryptography.
Must interpret blind chirography,
Know by heart all mens' biography,
And the black art of typography,
And every book in bibliography.
These things are all essential
And highly consequential.
If he's haunted by ambition
For a library position,
And esteems it a high mission,
To aspire to erudition;
He will find some politician
Of an envious disposition,
Getting up a coalition
To secure his non-admission,
And send him to perdition,
Before he's reached fruition.
If he gets the situation,
And is full of proud elation
And of fond anticipation,
And has in contemplation
To enlighten half the nation,
He may write a dissertation
For the public information
On the laws of observation,
And the art of conversation.
He must know each famed oration,
And poetical quotation,
And master derivation,
And the science of translation,
And complex pagination,
And perfect punctuation,
And binomial equation,
And accurate computation,
And boundless permutation,
And infinite gradation,
And the craft of divination,
And Scripture revelation,
And the secret of salvation.
He must know the population
Of every separate nation,
The amount of immigration,
And be wise in arbitration,
And the art of navigation,
And colonial annexation,
And problems Australasian.
He must take his daily ration
Of catalogue vexation,
And endless botheration
With ceaseless complication
Of decimal notation,
Or Cutter combination.
To complete his education,
He must know the valuation
Of all the publications
Of many generations,
With their endless variations,
And true interpretations.
When he's spent a life in learning,
If his lamp continues burning,
When he's mastered all philosophy,
And the science of theosophy,
Grown as learned as Mezzofanti,
As poetical as Dante,
As wise as Magliabecchi,
As profound as Mr. Lecky—
Has absorbed more kinds of knowledge
Than are found in any college;
He may take his full degree
Of Ph. or LL. D.
And prepare to pass the portal
That leads to life immortal.

Footnotes:

[3] Mostly from the Library Journal, New York.


CHAPTER 26.

Rare Books.

There is perhaps no field of inquiry concerning literature in which so large an amount of actual mis-information or of ignorance exists as that of the rarity of many books. The makers of second-hand catalogues are responsible for much of this, in describing the books which they wish to sell as "rare," "very scarce," etc., but more of it proceeds from absolute ignorance of the book-markets of the world. I have had multitudes of volumes offered for sale whose commercial value was hardly as many cents as was demanded in dollars by their ill-informed owners, who fancied the commonest book valuable because they "had never seen another copy." No one's ideas of the money value of any book are worth anything, unless he has had long experimental knowledge of the market for books both in America and in Europe.

What constitutes rarity in books is a question that involves many particulars. Thus, a given book may be rare in the United States which is abundant in London; or rare in London, when common enough in Germany. So books may be rare in one age which were easily found in another: and again, books on certain subjects may be so absorbed by public demand when events excite interest in that subject, as to take up most of the copies in market, and enhance the price of the remainder. Thus, Napoleon's conquering career in Egypt created a great demand for all books on Egypt and Africa. The scheme for founding a great French colony in Louisiana raised the price of all books and pamphlets on that region, which soon after fell into the possession of the United States. President Lincoln's assassination caused a demand for all accounts of the murder of the heads of nations. Latterly, all books on Cuba, the West Indies, and the Philippines have been in unprecedented demand, and dealers have raised the prices, which will again decline after the recent public interest in them has been supplanted by future events.

There is a broad distinction to be drawn between books which are absolutely rare, and those which are only relatively scarce, or which become temporarily rare, as just explained. Thus, a large share of the books published in the infancy of printing are rare; nearly all which appeared in the quarter century after printing began are very rare; and several among these last are superlatively rare. I may instance the Mazarin Bible of Gutenberg and Schoeffer (1455?) of which only twenty-four copies are known, nearly all in public libraries, where they ought to be; the Mentz Psalter of the same printers, 1457, the first book ever printed with a date; and the first edition of Livy, Rome [1469] the only copy of which printed on vellum is in the British Museum Library.

One reason of the scarcity of books emanating from the presses of the fifteenth century is that of many of them the editions consisted of only two hundred to three hundred copies, of which the large number absorbed in public libraries, or destroyed by use, fire or decay, left very few in the hands of booksellers or private persons. Still, it is a great mistake to infer that all books printed before A. D. 1500 are rare. The editions of many were large, especially after about 1480, many were reprinted in several editions, and of such incunabula copies can even now be picked up on the continent at very low prices.

Contrary to a wide-spread belief, mere age adds very little to the value of any book, and oft-times nothing at all. All librarians are pestered to buy "hundred year old" treatises on theology or philosophy, as dry as the desert of Sahara, on the ground that they are both old and rare, whereas such books, two hundred and even three hundred years old, swarm in unsalable masses on the shelves of London and provincial booksellers at a few pence per volume. The reason that they are comparatively rare in this country is that nobody wants them, and so they do not get imported.

A rare book is, strictly speaking, only one which is found with difficulty, taking into view all the principal book markets of various countries. Very few books printed since 1650 have any peculiar value on account of their age. Of many books, both old and new, the reason of scarcity is that only a few copies actually remain, outside of public libraries, and these last, of course, are not for sale. This scarcity of copies is produced by a great variety of causes, most of which are here noted.

(1) The small number of the books originally printed leads to rarity. This is by no means peculiar to early impressions of the press: on the contrary, of some books printed only last year not one tenth as many exist as of a multitude of books printed four centuries ago. Not only privately printed books, not designed for publication, but some family or personal memoirs, or original works circulated only among friends, and many other publications belong to this class of rarities. The books printed at private presses are mostly rare. Horace Walpole's Strawberry Hill press produced some thirty works from 1757 to 1789, in editions varying from fifty to six hundred copies. The Lee Priory press of Sir E. Brydges printed many literary curiosities, none of which had more than one hundred impressions. Most of the editions of the Shakespearean and other critical essays of J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps were limited to forty copies, or even less. The genealogical and heraldic imprints of Sir Thomas Phillipps, at the Middle Hill press, 1819-59, numbering some hundreds of different works, were mostly confined to twenty copies each, and some to only six copies. Some of them are as rare as many manuscripts, of which several copies have been made, and sell at prices dictated by their scarcity. Most of them are in the Library of Congress. The Kelmscott press of William Morris printed in sumptuous style, improved upon the finest models of antique typography, a number of literary works, which now bring enhanced prices. Of the many historical and literary publications of the Roxburghe Club, the Percy Society, the Maitland, the Abbotsford, and the Bannatyne Clubs abroad, only thirty to one hundred copies were printed. Of those of the Prince Society, the Grolier Club, and others in America, only from 150 to 300 copies were printed, being for subscribers only. Rarity and enhanced prices necessarily result in all these cases. Of some books, only five to ten copies have been printed, or else, out of fifty or more printed, all but a very few have been ruthlessly destroyed, in order to give a fanciful value to the remainder. In these extreme instances, the rarity commonly constitutes almost the sole value of the work.

(2) Even where many copies have been printed, the destruction of the greater part of the edition has rendered the book very rare. Printing offices and book binderies are peculiarly subject to fires, and many editions have thus been consumed before more than a few copies have been issued. The great theological libraries edited by the Abbé J. P. Migne, the Patrologie Grecque, et Latine, owe their scarcity and advanced prices to a fire which consumed the entire remainder of the edition. All the copies of a large edition of "Twenty years among our savage Indians," by J. L. Humfreville, were destroyed by fire in a Hartford printing office in 1899, except two, which had been deposited in the Library of Congress, to secure the copyright. The whole edition of the Machina coelestis of Hevelius was burned, except the few copies which the author had presented to friends before the fire occurred. The earlier issues in Spanish of the Mexican and Peruvian presses prior to 1600 are exceedingly rare. And editions of books printed at places in the United States where no books are now published are sought for their imprint alone and seldom found.

(3) Many books have become rare because proscribed and in part destroyed by governmental or ecclesiastical authority. This applies more especially to the ages that succeeded the application of printing to the art of multiplying books. The freedom of many writers upon politics and popular rights led to the suppression of their books by kings, emperors or parliaments. At the same time, books of church history or doctrinal theology which departed, in however slight a degree, from the standard of faith proclaimed by the church, were put in the Index Expurgatorius, or list of works condemned in whole or in part as heretical and unlawful to be read. A long and melancholy record of such proscriptions, civil and ecclesiastical, is found in Gabriel Peignot's two volumes—Dictionnaire des livres condamnés au feu, supprimés, ou censurés, etc. Works of writers of genius and versatile ability were thus proscribed, until it gave rise to the sarcasm among the scholars of Europe, that if one wanted to find what were the books best worth reading, he should look in the Index Expurgatorius. It appears to have been quite forgotten by those in authority that persecution commonly helps the cause persecuted, and that the best way to promote the circulation of a book is to undertake to suppress it. This age finds itself endowed with so many heretics that it is no longer possible to find purchasers at high prices for books once deemed unholy. Suppressed passages in later editions lead to a demand for the uncastrated copies which adds an element of enhanced cost in the market.

(4) Another source of rarity is the great extent and cost of many works, outrunning the ability of most collectors to buy or to accommodate them on their shelves. These costly possessions have been commonly printed in limited numbers for subscribers, or for distribution by governments under whose patronage they were produced. Such are some of the notable collections of early voyages, the great folios of many illustrated scientific works on natural history, local geography, etc. That great scholar, Baron von Humboldt, used jocosely to say that he could not afford to own a set of his own works, most of which are folios sumptuously printed, with finely engraved illustrations. The collection known as the "Grands et petits Voyages" of De Bry, the former in 13 volumes, relating to America, and finely illustrated with copper-plates produced in the highest style of that art, are among the rarest sets of books to find complete. The collection of voyages by Hulsius is equally difficult to procure. A really perfect set of Piranesi's great illustrated work on the art and architecture of ancient Rome is very difficult to acquire. The Acta Sanctorum, in the original edition, is very seldom found. But there is no room to multiply examples.

(5) What adds to the rarity and cost of certain books is the peculiarly expensive style or condition in which they are produced or preserved. Some few copies of an edition, for example, are printed on vellum, or on China or India or other choice paper, in colored ink or bronze, on colored paper, (rose-tinted, or green, blue or yellow,) on large paper, with broad margins, etc. Uncut copies always fetch a higher price than those whose edges are trimmed down in binding. To some book-collecting amateurs cut edges are an abomination. They will pay more for a book "in sheets," which they can bind after their own taste, than for the finest copy in calf or morocco with gilt edges. Some books, also, are exceptionally costly because bound in a style of superior elegance and beauty, or as having belonged to a crowned head or a noble person, ("books with a pedigree") or an eminent author, or having autographs of notable characters on the fly-leaves or title-pages, or original letters inserted in the volume. Others still are "extra-illustrated" works, in which one volume is swelled to several by the insertion of a multitude of portraits, autographs, and engravings, more or less illustrative of the contents of the book. This is called "Grangerising," from its origin in the practice of thus illustrating Granger's Biographical History of England. Book amateurs of expensive tastes are by no means rare, especially in England, France, and America, and the great commercial value placed upon uncut and rarely beautiful books, on which the highest arts of the printer and book-binder have been lavished, evinces the fact.

(6) The books emanating from the presses of famous printers are more sought for by collectors and libraries than other publications, because of their superior excellence. Sometimes this is found in the beauty of the type, or the clear and elegant press-work; sometimes in the printers' marks, monograms, engraved initial letters, head and tail-pieces, or other illustrations; and sometimes in the fine quality of the choice paper on which the books are printed. Thus, the productions of the presses of Aldus, Giunta, Bodoni, Etienne, Elzevir, Froben, Gutenberg, Fust and Schoeffer, Plantin, Caxton, Wynkyn de Worde, Bulmer, Didot, Baskerville, Pickering, Whittingham, and others, are always in demand, and some of the choicer specimens of their art, if in fine condition, bring great prices in the second-hand book-shops, or the auction room. An example of Caxton's press is now almost unattainable, except in fragmentary copies. There are known to be only about 560 examples of Caxtons in the world, four-fifths of which are in England, and thirty-one of these are unique. His "King Arthur" (1485) brought £1950 at auction in 1885, and the Polychronicon (1482) was sold at the Ives sale (N. Y.) in 1891, for $1,500.

(7) In the case of all finely illustrated works, the earlier impressions taken, both of text and plates, are more rare, and hence more valuable, than the bulk of the edition. Thus, copies with "proofs before letters" of the steel engravings or etchings, sometimes command more than double the price of copies having only the ordinary plates. Each added impression deteriorates a little the sharp, clear outlines and brilliant impressions which are peculiar to the first copies printed.

(8) Of some books, certain volumes only are rare, and very costly in consequence. Thus, Burk's History of Virginia is common enough in three volumes, but volume 4 of the set, by Jones and Girardin, (1816,) is exceedingly rare, and seldom found with the others. The fifth and last volume of Bunsen's Egypt's Place in Universal History is very scarce, while the others are readily procured. Of De Bry's Voyages, the 13th or final part of the American voyages is so rare as to be quite unattainable, unless after long years of search, and at an unconscionable price.

(9) The condition of any book is an unfailing factor in its price. Many, if not most books offered by second-hand dealers are shop-worn, soiled, or with broken bindings, or some other defect. A pure, clean copy, in handsome condition without and within, commands invariably an extra price. Thus the noted Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493, a huge portly folio, with 2,250 wood-cuts in the text, many of them by Albert Dürer or other early artists, is priced in London catalogues all the way from £7.15 up to £35, for identically the same edition. The difference is dependent wholly on the condition of the copies offered. Here is part of a description of the best copy: "Nuremberg Chronicle, by Schedel, printed by Koberger, first edition, 1493, royal folio, with fine original impressions of the 2,250 large wood-cuts of towns, historical events, portraits, etc., very tall copy, measuring 18½ inches by 12½, beautifully bound in morocco super extra, full gilt edges, by Riviere, £35. All the cuts are brilliant impressions, large and spirited. The book is genuine and perfect throughout; no washed leaves, and all the large capitals filled in by the rubricator by different colored inks: it has the six additional leaves at end, which Brunet says are nearly always wanting."

(10) The first editions printed of many books always command high prices. Not only is this true of the editio princeps of Homer, Virgil, Tacitus and other Greek and Roman writers, published in the infancy of printing, but of every noted author, of ancient or modern date. The edition printed during the life of the writer has had his own oversight and correction. And when more than one issue of his book has thus appeared, one sees how his maturer judgment has altered the substance or the style of his work. First editions of any very successful work always tend to become scarce, since the number printed is smaller, as a rule, and a large part of the issue is absorbed by public libraries. The earliest published writings of Tennyson, now found with difficulty, show how much of emendation and omission this great poet thought proper to make in his poems in after years. A first edition of Ivanhoe, 3 vols., 1820, brings £7 or more, in the original boards, but if rebound in any style, the first Waverley novels can be had at much less, though collectors are many.

(11) Another class of rare books is found in many local histories, both among the county histories of Great Britain, and those of towns and counties in the United States. Jay Gould's History of Delaware County, N. Y., published in 1856, and sought after in later times because of his note as a financier, is seldom found. Of family genealogies, too, printed in small editions, there are many which cannot be had at all, and many more which have risen to double or even quadruple price. The market value of these books, always dependent on demand, is enhanced by the wants of public libraries which are making or completing collections of these much sought sources of information.

(12) There is a class of books rarely found in any reputable book shop, and which ought to be much rarer than they are—namely, those that belong to the domain of indecent literature. Booksellers who deal in such wares often put them in catalogues under the head of facetiae, thus making a vile use of what should be characteristic only of books of wit or humor. Men of prurient tastes become collectors of such books, many of which are not without some literary merit, while many more are neither fit to be written, nor printed, nor read.

(13) There is a large variety of books that are sought mainly on account, not of their authors, nor for their value as literature, but for their illustrators. Many eminent artists (in fact most of those of any period) have made designs for certain books of their day. The reputation of an artist sometimes rests more upon his work given to the public in engravings, etchings, wood-cuts, etc., that illustrate books, than upon his works on canvas or in marble. Many finely illustrated works bear prices enhanced by the eagerness of collectors, who are bent upon possessing the designs of some favorite artist, while some amateurs covet a collection of far wider scope. This demand, although fitful, and sometimes evanescent, (though more frequently recurrent,) lessens the supply of illustrated books, and with the constant drafts of new libraries, raises prices. Turner's exquisite pictures in Rogers's Italy and Poems (1830-34) have floated into fame books of verse which find very few readers. Hablot K. Browne ("Phiz") designed those immortal Wellers in Pickwick, which have delighted two whole generations of readers. The "Cruikshankiana" are sought with avidity, in whatever numerous volumes they adorn. Books illustrated with the designs of Bartolozzi, Marillier, Eisen, Gravelot, Moreau, Johannot, Grandville, Rowlandson, Bewick, William Blake, Stothard, Stanfield, Harvey, Martin, Cattermole, Birket Foster, Mulready, Tenniel, Maclise, Gilbert, Dalziel, Leighton, Holman Hunt, Doyle, Leech, Millais, Rossetti, Linton, Du Maurier, Sambourne, Caldecott, Walter Crane, Kate Greenaway, Haden, Hamerton, Whistler, Doré, Anderson, Darley, Matt Morgan, Thos. Nast, Vedder, and others, are in constant demand, especially for the early impressions of books in which their designs appear.

(14) Finally, that extensive class of books known as early Americana have been steadily growing rarer, and rising in commercial value, since about the middle of the nineteenth century. Books and pamphlets relating to any part of the American continent or islands, the first voyages, discoveries, narratives or histories of those regions, which were hardly noted or cared for a century ago, are now eagerly sought by collectors for libraries both public and private. In this field, the keen competition of American Historical Societies, and of several great libraries, besides the ever increasing number of private collectors with large means, has notably enhanced the prices of all desirable and rare books. Nor do the many reprints which have appeared much affect the market value of the originals, or first editions.

This rise in prices, while far from uniform, and furnishing many examples of isolated extravagance, has been marked. Witness some examples. The "Bay Psalm Book," Cambridge, Mass., A. D. 1640, is the Caxton of New England, so rare that no perfect copy has been found for many years. In 1855, Henry Stevens had the singular good fortune to find this typographical gem sandwiched in an odd bundle of old hymn books, unknown to the auctioneers or catalogue, at a London book sale. Keeping his own counsel, he bid off the lot at nine shillings, completed an imperfection in the book, from another imperfect copy, had it bound in Bedford's best, and sold it to Mr. Lenox's library at £80. In 1868, Stevens sold another copy to George Brinley for 150 guineas, which was bought for $1,200 in 1878, by C. Vanderbilt, at the Brinley sale.

John Smith's folio "Historie of Virginia," 1st ed., 1624, large paper, was sold to Brinley in 1874 at $1,275, and re-sold in 1878 for $1,800 to Mr. Lenox. In 1884 a copy on large paper brought £605 at the Hamilton Library sale in London. In 1899, a perfect copy of the large paper edition was presented to the Library of Congress by Gen. W. B. Franklin. Perfect copies of Smith's Virginia of 1624 on small paper have sold for $1,000, and those wanting some maps at $70 to $150.

The earlier English tracts relating to Virginia and New England, printed between 1608 and 1700, command large prices: e. g., Lescarbot's New France, [Canada,] 1609, $50 to $150; Wood's New England's Prospect, 1635, $50 to $320; Hubbard's Present State of New England, Boston, 1677, $180 to $316.

It is curious to note, in contrast, the following record of prices at the sale of Dr. Bernard's Library in London, in 1686:

T. Morton's New England, 1615, eight pence; Lescarbot's New France, 1609, ten pence; Wood's New England's Prospect, 1635, and three others, 5 s. 8 d.; nine Eliot Tracts, &c., 5 s. 2 d.; Hubbard's Present State of New England, 1677, 1 s.; Smith's Historie of Virginia, 1624, 4 s. 2 d.

The numerous and now rare works of Increase and Cotton Mather, printed from 1667 to 1728, though mostly sermons, are collected by a sufficient number of libraries to maintain prices at from $4 to $25 each, according to condition. They number over 470 volumes.

Several collections have been attempted of Frankliniana, or works printed at Benjamin Franklin's press, and of the many editions of his writings, with all books concerning the illustrious printer-statesman of America. His "Poor Richard's Almanacs," printed by him from 1733 to 1758, and by successors to 1798, are so rare that Mr. P. L. Ford found a visit to three cities requisite to see all of them. The Library of Congress possesses thirty-five years of these issues.

A word may be added as to early newspapers, of some special numbers of which prices that are literally "fabulous" are recorded. There are many reprints afloat of the first American newspaper, and most librarians have frequent offers of the Ulster County, (N. Y.) Gazette of Jan. 10, 1800, in mourning for the death of Washington, a genuine copy of which is worth money, but the many spurious reprints (which include all those offered) are worth nothing.

Of many rare early books reprints or facsimiles are rife in the market, especially of those having but few leaves; these, however, are easily detected by an expert eye, and need deceive no one.

Of some scarce books, it may be said that they are as rare as the individuals who want them: and of a very few, that they are as rare as the extinct dodo. In fact, volumes have been written concerning extinct books, not without interest to the bibliomaniac who is fired with the passion for possessing something which no one else has got. Some books are quite as worthless as they are rare. But books deemed worthless by the common or even by the enlightened mind are cherished as treasures by many collectors. The cook-book, entitled Le Pastissier françois, an Elzevir of 1655, is so rare as to have brought several times its weight in gold. Nearly all the copies of some books have been worn to rags by anglers, devout women, cooks, or children.

When a book is sold at a great price as "very rare," it often happens that several copies come into the market soon after, and, there being no demand, the commercial value is correspondingly depressed. The books most sure of maintaining full prices are first editions of master-pieces in literature. Fitzgerald's version of Omar Khayyam was bought by nobody when Quaritch first published it in 1859. After eight years, he put the remainder of the edition,—a paper-covered volume—down to a penny each. When the book had grown into fame, and the many variations in later issues were discovered, this first edition, no longer procurable, rose to £21, the price actually paid by Mr. Quaritch himself at a book auction in 1898!

Auction sales of libraries having many rare books have been frequent in London and Paris. The largest price yet obtained for any library was reached in 1882-3, when that of Mr. Wm. Beckford brought £73,551, being an average of nearly $40 a volume. But W. C. Hazlitt says of this sale, "the Beckford books realized perfectly insane prices, and were afterwards re-sold for a sixth or even tenth of the amount, to the serious loss of somebody, when the barometer had fallen."

The second-hand bookseller, having the whole range of printed literature for his field, has a great advantage in dealing with book collectors over the average dealer, who has to offer only new books, or such as are "in print."

It may be owned that the love of rare books is chiefly sentimental. He who delights to spend his days or his nights in the contemplation of black-letter volumes, quaint title-pages, fine old bindings, and curious early illustrations, may not add to the knowledge or the happiness of mankind, but he makes sure of his own.

The passion for rare books, merely because of their rarity, is a low order of the taste for books. But the desire to possess and read wise old books which have been touched by the hoar frost of time is of a higher mood. The first impression of Paradise Lost (1667) with its quarto page and antique orthography, is it not more redolent of the author's age than the elegant Pickering edition, or the one illustrated by John Martin or Gustave Doré? When you hold in your hand Shakespeare's "Midsommer Night's Dream" (A. D. 1600) and read with fresh admiration and delight the exquisite speeches of Oberon and Titania, may not the thought that perhaps that very copy may once have been held in the immortal bard's own hand send a thrill through your own?

When you turn over the classic pages of Homer illustrated by Flaxman, that "dear sculptor of eternity," as William Blake called him, or drink in the beauty of those delicious landscapes of Turner, that astonishing man, who shall wonder at your desire to possess them?

The genuine book lover is he who reads books; who values them for what they contain, not for their rarity, nor for the preposterous prices which have been paid for them. To him, book-hunting is an ever-enduring delight. Of all the pleasures tasted here below, that of the book lover in finding a precious and long sought volume is one of the purest and most innocent. In books, he becomes master of all the kingdoms of the world.