us realised at the outset of our careers as book
collectors how completely we should be mastered by this love of books.
Who did not think that it comprised but occasional visits to the
book-shops and bookstalls, perhaps even to an auction-room, and the
reading of nondescript catalogues? But it is like all other hobbies:
ridden at first with too little restraint, it soon gets the upper hand,
and off it goes, bit between teeth, carrying its rider ever farther and
farther afield. And no man of spirit would think of seeking to curb his
hobby's gallop. We have mounted of our own free will, determined to
pursue the chase, and never shall it be said that we were too timid to
face the difficulties of the country ahead. The greater the difficulties
the greater the sport, and in our enthusiasm we are determined to
overcome all obstacles. So that, though our hobby may at length become
our master, so enthralled are we in the pursuit that there is little
danger of it assuming the semblance of a nightmare.

The farther we go, the wider the fields which open to our view, and there
is interest for us in all of them. We roam at our pleasure over vast
fields of literature, digressing here and there just as our fancy takes
us. There is no danger, moreover, in being side-tracked, for such
divagations in the realms of bibliography as we may make will serve but
to increase our knowledge of books in the right direction. The only risk
that we shall incur is that of becoming specialists, which is precisely
what we should most desire.

And how delightful are these digressions in the world of books! There is
no other occupation in which one may wander so innocuously. In most of
the learned professions digressions are fatal to success. Anthony
Despeisses was a lawyer who used frequently to digress. Beginning one day
in Court to talk of Ethiopia, an attorney who sat behind him remarked
'Heavens! He is got into Ethiopia, he will never come back.' Despeisses,
we are told, was so abashed with the ridicule that he chose rather to
leave off pleading than to correct himself of this unfortunate habit,
and quitted the Bar for ever. Doubtless he found solace among his books,
for here at least he could digress to his heart's content.

Although, from a worldly point of view, side-tracks are fatal to success,
yet they are as necessary a part of our literary education as is the
application to study itself. Without digressing as we applied ourselves
to books,