ould appear that Dr. Manton's books brought
such high prices as to excite the envy of the trade.
Worsley's collection was sold at 9 and 2, the usual hours
"at the house over against the hen and chickens, in
Pater-Noster Row." The venders thus justify themselves at
the close of their address: "We have only this to add in
behalf of ourselves; that, forasmuch as a report has been
spread that we intend to use indirect means to advance the
prices, we do affirm that it is a groundless and malicious
suggestion of some of our own trade, envious of our
undertaking: and that, to avoid all manner of suspicion of
such practice, we have absolutely refused all manner of
commissions that have been offered us for buying (some of
them without limitation): and do declare that the company
shall have nothing but candid and ingenuous dealing from

JOHN DUNMORE.
RICHARD CHISWEL."

At this sale, the Shakspeare of 1632 brought 16_s._; and of
1663, 1_l._ 8_s._

In the November and December of the same year were sold by
auction the books of VOET, SANGAR, and others, and from the
preface to each catalogue it would seem that the sale of
books by auction was then but a recent, yet a very
successful, experiment; and that even collections from
abroad were imported, in order to be disposed of in a like
manner.]

LIS. From what you say, it would appear to be wiser to lay out one's
money at a bookseller's than at a book-auction?

LYSAND. Both methods must of necessity be resorted to: for you cannot
find with the one what you may obtain at the other. A distinguished
collector, such as the late Mr. Reed, or Mr. Gough, or Mr. Joseph
Windham, dies, and leaves his library to be sold by auction for the
benefit of his survivors. Now, in this library so bequeathed, you have
the fruits of book-labour, collected for a long period, and cultivated
in almost every department of literature. A thousand radii are
concentrated in such a circle; for it has, probably, been the object
of the collector's life to gather and to concentrate these radii. In
this case, therefore, you must attend the auction; you must see how
such a treasure is scattered, like the Sibylline leaves, by the winds
of fate. You must catch at what you want, and for what you have been
a dozen years, perhaps, in the pursuit of. You will pay dearly for
these favourite volu