d such ample fruit to the explorer, perhaps
because there has always been a species of magnetic attraction, by
which any spoils of the kind are drawn into the local libraries and
museums. A graduate of Oxford or Cambridge, a canon of this or that
church, a loyal dweller in Winchester or Lincoln, possesses or
discovers a rare volume, and his impulse, if he does not keep it
himself, is to bestow it on his place of residence or education.
Whatever happens, the stranger coming to hunt in these preserves
arrives only in time to learn that the stall or the shop has given up
some unique desideratum a day or two before, and is referred to the
librarian of the college, or to the buyer at such an address, if he
desires to inspect it, which, if his aims are simply commercial, be
sure he does not. The aggravation is already sufficient!

At the same time, the Universities and Inns of Court have been from
time to time the homes of many famous book-collections. Robert Burton,
Anthony Wood, John Selden, Sir David Dundas, Mr. Dyce, Dr. Bliss, Dr.
Bandinel, Dr. Coxe, Mr. Bradshaw, are only a few select names.

In the same way there was a time, and not so distant, when Edinburgh,
and even Dublin, yielded their proportion of finds, and the Duke of
Roxburghe and General Swinton, David Laing and James Maidment,
obtained no insignificant share of their extremely curious and
valuable stores from their own ground. Now the Scotish amateur and
bookseller equally look to the great metropolis for the supply of
their wants, and the North Country libraries are sent up to London for
sale. The capital of Scotland has lost its ancient prestige as a cover
for this sort of sport, and is as unproductive as an ordinary English
provincial town.

From an acquisitive standpoint the locality signifies no longer. The
game is up. The three kingdoms have been well-nigh ransacked and
exhausted. The country town is as bare as a bird's tail of anything
but common-place stuff, bought in the London market, and (if any
dweller in a distant city is simple enough to order it from the
unsophisticated vendor) charged with a good profit and the freight up.
Naturally the provincial dealer, if he stumbles on a gem or two in an
accidental way, takes care that it is sold in no corner, unless it be
at the corner of Wellington Street in the Strand. He considers that
the value may be a matter of doubt, and he leaves it to gentlemen to
decide between them how much it is worth. Do