architecture, are at 91, Oxford Street. Among
the literary booksellers of the first quarter of the present century,
William Goodhugh, of 155, Oxford Street, deserves a mention here. 'The
English Gentleman's Library Manual,' 1827, is his best-known work,
although from a literary standpoint it is a poor concern; he also wrote
'Gates' to the French, Italian, Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic and Syriac,
'unlocked by new and easy methods.' Goodhugh was conversant with several
of the Oriental and many European languages. His knowledge of books was
a very extensive and profound one, and as a literary bookseller he is an
interesting figure in the annals of bibliopolic history. Fifty years ago
many good books were picked up out of 'Miller's Catalogue of Cheap
Books,' which appeared monthly from 404, Oxford Street, that for
September, 1845, being numbered 127. A quarter of a century ago there
were several booksellers in Oxford Street, _e.g._, G. A. Davies, at 417;
W. Heath, at 497; J. Kimpton, at 303; E. Lumley, at 514; J. Pettit, at
528; and Whittingham.

[Illustration: _Day's Circulating Library in Mount Street._]

The further west one goes, the less interesting do the annals of
bookselling become, for Oxford Street is essentially a modern locality,
and second-hand bookselling never has thrived much in new localities. It
was, however, when rummaging over the contents of a stall in a Wardour
Street alley that Charles Lamb lighted upon a ragged duodecimo, which
had been the delight of his infancy. The price demanded was sixpence,
which the owner, himself a squab little duodecimo of a character,
enforced with the asseverance that his own mother should not have it for
a farthing less, supplementing the assertion with an oath and 'Now, I
have put my soul to it.' The book was the 'Queen Like Closet,' which, it
is scarcely necessary to say, Elia rescued from the man of profanity.
Soho has long been more or less of a bookselling quarter. John Paul
Manson, who was in King Street, Westminster, in 1786, and issued from
thence 'A Summer Catalogue' in 1795, subsequently removed to Gerard
Street, Soho, and died in 1812. He was especially well versed, not only
in Caxtons, but in all the best works of the early printers, and many
English black-letter books passed through his hands. Dibdin observes
that Professor Heyne could not have exhibited greater signs of joy at
the sight of the Towneley manuscript of Homer than did Manson on the
discovery of Rast