practical angler, and--

"During the darker seasons of the year, when forbidden the actual use of
his rod, our friend has occupied himself with excursions through sale
catalogues, fishing out from their dingy pages whatever tends to honour
his favourite author or favourite art, so that his spoils now number
nearly five hundred volumes, of all sizes and dates. Pains have been
taken to have not only copies of the works included in the list, but
also the several editions; and when it is of a work mentioned by Walton,
an edition which the good old man himself may have seen. Thus the
collection has all the editions of Walton, Cotton, and Venables in
existence, and, with few exceptions, all the works referred to by
Walton, or which tend to illustrate his favourite rambles by the Lea or
the Dove. Every scrap of Walton's writing, and every compliment paid to
him, have been carefully gathered and garnered up, with prints and
autographs and some precious manuscripts. Nor does the department end
here, but embraces most of the older and many of the modern writers on
ichthyology and angling."

The Prowler and the Auction-Haunter.

These incidental divisions are too numerous and complex for a proper
classification of book-hunters, and I am inclined to go back to the idea
that their most effective and comprehensive division is into the private
prowler and the auction-haunter. The difference between these is
something like, in the sporting world, that between the stalker and the
hunter proper. Each function has its merits, and calls for its special
qualities and sacrifices. The one demands placidity, patience, caution,
plausibility, and unwearied industry--such attributes as those which
have been already set forth in the words of the Antiquary. The
auction-room, on the other hand, calls forth courage, promptness, and
the spirit of adventure. There is wild work sometimes there, and men
find themselves carried off by enthusiasm and competition towards
pecuniary sacrifices which at the threshold of the temple they had
solemnly vowed to themselves to eschew. But such sacrifices are the
tribute paid to the absorbing interest of the pursuit, and are looked
upon in their own peculiar circle as tending to the immortal honour of
those who make them. This field of prowess has, it is said, undergone a
prejudicial change in these days, the biddings being nearly all by
dealers, while gentlemen-collectors are gradually moving out of the