ns；　〃Whence？〃　and　〃Whither？〃　　The　bibliophile　asks　about　his　books　the　question　which　the　metaphysician　asks　about　his　soul。　　Whence　came　they？　　Their　value　depends　a　good　deal　on　the　answer。　　If　they　are　stamped　with　arms；　then　there　is　a　book　（〃Armorial　du　Bibliophile；〃　by　M。　Guigard）　which　tells　you　who　was　their　original　owner。　　Any　one　of　twenty　coats…of…arms　on　the　leather　is　worth　a　hundred　times　the　value　of　the　volume　which　it　covers。　　If　there　is　no　such　mark；　the　fancy　is　left　to　devise　a　romance　about　the　first　owner；　and　all　the　hands　through　which　the　book　has　passed。　　That　Vanini　came　from　a　Jesuit　college；　where　it　was　kept　under　lock　and　key。　　That　copy　of　Agrippa　〃De　Vanitate　Scientiarum〃　is　marked；　in　a　crabbed　hand　and　in　faded　ink；　with　cynical　Latin　notes。　　What　pessimist　two　hundred　years　ago　made　his　grumbling　so　permanent？　　One　can　only　guess；　but　part　of　the　imaginative　joys　of　the　book…hunter　lies　'　in　the　fruitless　conjecture。　　That　other　question　〃Whither？〃　is　graver。　　Whither　are　our　treasures　to　be　scattered？　　Will　they　find　kind　masters？　or；　worst　fate　of　books；　fall　into　the　hands　of　women　who　will　sell　them　to　the　trunk…maker？　　Are　the　leaves　to　line　a　box　or　to　curl　a　maiden's　locks？　　Are　the　rarities　to　become　more　and　more　rare；　and　at　last　fetch　prodigious　prices？　　Some　unlucky　men　are　able　partly　to　solve　these　problems　in　their　own　lifetime。　　They　are　constrained　to　sell　their　librariesan　experience　full　of　bitterness；　wrath；　and　disappointment。
  Selling　books　is　nearly　as　bad　as　losing　friends；　than　which　life　has　no　worse　sorrow。　　A　book　is　a　friend　whose　face　is　constantly　changing。　　If　you　read　it　when　you　are　recovering　from　an　illness；　and　return　to　it　years　after；　it　is　changed　surely；　with　the　change　in　yourself。　　As　a　man's　tastes　and　opinions　are　developed　his　books　put　on　a　different　aspect。　　He　hardly　knows　the　〃Poems　and　Ballads〃　he　used　to　declaim；　and　cannot　recover　the　enigmatic　charm　of　〃Sordello。〃　　Books　change　like　friends；　like　ourselves；　like　everything；　but　they　are　most　piquant　in　the　contrasts　they　provoke；　when　the　friend　who　gave　them　and　wrote　them　is　a　success；　though　we　laughed　at　him；　a　failure；　though　we　believed　in　him；　altered　in　any　case；　and　estranged　from　his　old　self　and　old　days。　　The　vanished　past　returns　when　we　look　at　the　pages。　　The　vicissitudes　of　years　are　printed　and　packed　in　a　thin　octavo；　and　the　shivering　ghosts　of　desire　and　hope　return　to　their　forbidden　home　in　the　heart　and　fancy。　　It　is　as　well　to　have　the　power　of　recalling　them　always　at　hand；　and　to　be　able　to　take　a　comprehensive　glance　at　the　emotions　which　were　so　powerful　and　full　of　life；　and　now　are　more　faded　and　of　less　account　than　the　memory　of　the　dreams　of　childhood。　　It　is　because　our　books　are　friends　that　do　change；　and　remind　us　of　change；　that　we　should　keep　them　with　us；　even　at　a　little　inconvenience；　and　not　turn　them　adrift　in　the　world　to　find　a　dusty　asylum　in　cheap　bookstalls。　　We　are　a　part　of　all　that　we　have　read；　to　parody　the　saying　of　Mr。　Tennyson's　Ulysses；　and　we　owe　some　respect；　and　house…room　at　least；　to　the　early　acquaintances　who　have　begun　to　bore　us；　and　remind　us　of　the　vanity　of　ambition　and　the　weakness　of　human　purpose。　　Old　school　and　college　books　even　have　a　reproachful　and　salutary　power　of　whispering　how　much　a　man　knew；　and　at　the　cost　of　how　much　trouble；　that　he　has　absolutely　forgotten；　and　is　neither　the　better　nor　the　worse　for　it。　　It　will　be　the　same　in　the　case　of　the　books　he　is　eager　about　now；　though；　to　be　sure；　he　will　read　with　less　care；　and　forget　with　an　ease　and　readiness　only　to　be　acquired　by　practice。
  But　we　were　apologising　for　book…hunting；　not　because　it　teaches　moral　lessons；　as　〃dauncyng〃　also　does；　according　to　Sir　Thomas　Elyot；　in　the　〃Boke　called　the　Gouvernour；〃　but　because　it　affords　a　kind　of　sportive　excitement。　　Bookstalls　are　not　the　only　field　of　the　chase。　　Book　catalogues；　which　reach　the　collector　through　the　post；　give　him　all　the　pleasures　of　the　sport　at　home。　　He　reads　the　booksellers'　catalogues　eagerly；　he　marks　his　chosen　sport　with　pencil；　he　writes　by　return　of　post；　or　he　telegraphs　to　the　vendor。　Unfortunately　he　almost　always　finds　that　he　has　been　forestalled；　probably　by　some　bookseller's　agent。　　When　the　catalogue　is　a　French　one；　it　is　obvious　that　Parisians　have　the　pick　of　the　market　before　our　slow　letters　reach　M。　Claudin；　or　M。　Labitte。　　Still　the　catalogues　themselves　are　a　kind　of　lesson　in　bibliography。　　You　see　from　them　how　prices　are　ruling；　and　you　can　gloat；　in　fancy；　over　De　Luyne's　edition　of　Moliere；　1673；　two　volumes　in　red　morocco；　double　（〃Trautz　Bauzonnet〃）；　or　some　other　vanity　hopelessly　out　of　reach。　　In　their　catalogues；　MM。　Morgand　and　Fatout　print　a　facsimile　of　the　frontispiece　of　this　very　rare　edition。　　The　bust　of　Moliere　occupies　the　centre；　and　portraits　of　the　great　actor；　as　Sganarelle　and　Mascarille　（of　the　〃Precieuses　Ridicules〃）；　stand　on　either　side。　　In　the　second　volume　are　Moliere；　and　his　wife　Armande；　crowned　by　the　muse　Thalia。　　A　catalogue　which　contains　such　exact　reproductions　of　rare　and　authentic　portraits；　is　itself　a　work　of　art；　and　serviceable　to　the　student。　　When　the　shop　of　a　bookseller；　with　a　promising　catalogue　which　arrives　over　night；　is　not　too　far　distant；　bibliophiles　have　been　known　to　rush　to　the　spot　in　the　grey　morning；　before　the　doors　open。　　There　are　amateurs；　however；　who　prefer　to　stay　comfortably　at　home；　and　pity　these　poor　fanatics；　shivering　in　the　rain　outside　a　door　in　Oxford　Street　or　Booksellers'　Row。　　There　is　a　length　to　which　enthusiasm　cannot　go；　and　many　collectors　draw　the　line　at　rising　early　in　the　morning。　　But；　when　we　think　of　the　sport　of　book…hunting；　it　is　to　sales　in　auction…rooms　that　the　mind　naturally　turns。　　Here　the　rival　buyers　feel　the　passion　of　emulation；　and　it　was　in　an　auction…room　that　Guibert　de　Pixerecourt；　being　outbid；　said；　in　tones　of　mortal　hatred；　〃I　will　have　the　book　when　your　collection　is　sold　after　your　death。〃　　And　he　kept　his　word。　　The　fever　of　gambling　is　not　absent　from　the　auction…room；　and　people　〃bid　jealous〃　as　they　sometimes　〃ride　jealous〃　in　the　hunting…field。　Yet；　the　neophyte；　if　he　strolls　by　chance　into　a　sale…room；　will　be　surprised　at　the　spectacle。　　The　chamber　has　the　look　of　a　rather　seedy　〃hell。〃　　The　crowd　round　the　auctioneer's　box　contains　many　persons　so　dingy　and　Semitic；　that　at　Monte　Carlo　they　would　be　refused　admittance；　while；　in　Germany；　they　would　be　persecuted　by　Herr　von　Treitschke　with　Christian　ardour。　　Bidding　is　languid；　and　valuable　books　are　knocked　down　for　trifling　sums。　　Let　the　neophyte　try　his　luck；　however；　and　prices　will　rise　wonderfully。　　The　fact　is　that　the　sale　is　a　〃knock　out。〃　　The　bidders　are　professionals；　in　a　league　to　let　the　volumes　go　cheap；　and　to　distribute　them　afterwards　among　themselves。　　Thus　an　amateur　can　have　a　good　deal　of　sport　by　bidding　for　a　book　till　it　reaches　its　proper　value；　and　by　then　leaving　in　the　lurch　the　professionals　who　combine　to　〃run　him　up。〃　　The　amusement　has　its　obvious　perils；　but　the　presence　of　gentlemen　in　an　auction…room　is　a　relief　to　the　auctioneer　and　to　the　owner　of　the　books。　　A　bidder　must　be　able　to　command　his　temper；　both　that　he　may　be　able　to　keep　his　head　cool　when　tempted　to　bid　recklessly；　and　that　he　may　disregard　the　not　very　carefully　concealed　sneers　of　the　professionals。
  In　book…hunting　the　nature　of　the　quarry　varies　with　the　taste　of　the　collector。　　One　man　is　for　bibles；　another　for　ballads。　　Some　pursue　plays；　others　look　for　play　bills。　　〃He　was　not；〃　says　Mr。　Hill　Burton；　speaking　of　Kirkpatrick　Sharpe；　〃he　was　not　a　black…　letter　man；　or　a　tall　copyist；　or　an　uncut　man；　or　a　rough…edge　man；　or　an　early…English　dramatist；　or　an　Elzevirian；　or　a　broadsider；　or　a　pasquinader；　or　an　old　brown　calf　man；　or　a　Grangerite；　｛1｝　or　a　tawny　moroccoite；　or　a　gilt　topper；　or　a　marbled　insider；　or　an　editio　princeps　man。〃　　These　nicknames　briefly　dispose　into　categories　a　good　many　species　of　collectors。　　But　there　are　plenty　of　others。　　You　may　be　a　historical…bindings　man；　and　hunt　for　books　that　were　bound　by　the　great　artists　of　the　past　and　belonged　to　illustrious　collectors。　　Or　you　may　be　a　Jametist；　and　try　to　gather　up　the　volumes　on　which　Jamet；　the　friend　of　Louis　Racine；　scribbled　his　cynical　〃Marginalia。〃　　Or　you　may　covet　the　earliest　editions　of　modern　poetsShelley；　Keats；　or　Tennyson；　or　even　Ebenezer　Jones。　Or　the　object　of　your　desires　may　be　the　books　of　the　French　romanticists；　who　flourished　so　freely　in　1830。　　Or；　being　a　person　of　large　fortune　and　landed　estate；　you　may　collect　country　histories。　　Again；　your　heart　may　be　set　on　the　books　illustrated　by　Eisen；　Cochin；　and　Gravelot；　or　Stothard　and　Blake；　in　the　last　century。　　Or　you　may　be　so　old…fashioned　as　to　care　for　Aldine　classics；　and　for　the　books　of　the　Giunta　press。　　In　fact；　as　many　as　are　the　species　of　rare　and　beautiful　books；　so　many　are　the　species　of　collectors。　　There　is　one　sort　of　men；　modest　but　not　unwise　in　their　generations；　who　buy　up　the　pretty　books　published　in　very　limited　editions　by　French　booksellers；　like　MM。　Lemerre　and　Jouaust。　　Already　their　r