tures in the Devonshire, and other two collections in London, printed
at my press. I was much surprised. It was, I think, about the year 1764,
that, on reading the six volumes of "London and its Environs," I ordered
my printer to throw off one copy for my own use. This printer was the
very man who, after he had left my service, produced the noted copy of
Wilkes's "Essay on Woman." He had stolen one copy of this list; and I
must blame the reverend amateur for purchasing it of him, as it was like
receiving stolen goods.'

The number of book-thieves has increased with the extension of public
(or free) libraries. Here, the accumulated ingenuity of the literary
thief has an ample scope, and he is not the man to let an opportunity
escape. Some of the tribe have a mania for old directories; but novels
are the most popular. The clerical thief with a thirst for sermons and
theological literature is a by no means infrequent customer--and truly
the indictment of a thief of this description ought to bear the fatal
endorsement continued almost up to our own times, _sus. per coll._--'let
him be hanged by the neck.'

At one time nearly all the volumes in the very useful Bohn's Library
series were kept in the Reading-room of the British Museum, but they so
frequently disappeared that the authorities decided upon their permanent
sequestration to a less handy part of the building. Last year Mr. C.
Trice Martin's new 'Record Interpreter' was so highly appreciated both
at the Record Office and at the Reading-room, that the copy at each
institution was stolen from the shelves within twenty-four hours of its
being placed there.

Women more or less respectably dressed are often objects of suspicion to
public librarians; they are also a class infinitely more difficult to
deal with than men, for, whilst the receptivity of their cloaks is
infinite, their 'feelings' have to be considered. Whether guilty or
innocent, the suspected party is bound to create a 'scene,' probably
hysterics--and what is a public librarian, or, indeed, any other man, to
do under such circumstances?

Libri was unquestionably the most accomplished and wholesale book-thief
that ever lived. As Inspector-General of French Libraries under Louis
Philippe, he had special facilities for helping himself--his known
thefts have been valued at L20,000. We mention him here because his
collections were sold at Sotheby's in 1860. One of the most interesting
illustrations of this man