sponsible for much of the terrible confusion that takes place when we begin to draw comparisons in matters of filthy lucre. If a Bible comes from a noted press, or is an original edition of its version, or very old indeed, then up goes the price, especially if it be printed in English. One would have thought that Baskerville being an Englishman, and a fine printer in his way, would have been good for much more than £1 10s. But no; he has not been dead long enough, for the collectors have made it a rule that no English Bible printed after 1717 is any good at all, and consequently that the "Vinegar Bible" is the last book of the kind in point of date worth looking at, unless, indeed, exception be made in favor of one of the six large-paper copies of Bentham's Cambridge Bible of 1762, which are reported to have luckily escaped a conflagration. The late Mr. Dore, who was a strong man on the subject of old Bibles, says that a little research would reveal the existence of many more than the traditional half-dozen copies, so perhaps, after all, the conflagration is a myth. But if Baskerville's Bible. brought what we should now consider to be an outrageous sum, what shall be said of "The Holy Bible, illustrated with Prints, published by T. Macklin, six volumes, folio, 1800," which went for £43, incomplete though it was. Some £2 10s. for the whole seven volumes is not at all an uncommon auction price at the present day, and this amount and more would most certainiy be swallowed up by the binding alone. What it comes to is that among all these books of theology, Biblical comment, criticism, polemics, sermons, and works of the Fathers, prices have fallen since 1812, except in those cases where collectors have stepped in to rescue old Bibles, works associated with some great religious revolution, or specimens of rare typography from the presses of old and noted printers.

For instance, there was here another Caxton called "The Prouffytable boke for Mane's Soul," folio, described as "a beautiful copy," which went for £140, and "A Lytell Treatyse called Lucydarye," 4to., Wynkyn de Worde, which brought

10. During the last dozen years the former book has appeared twice. At the Earl of Aylesford's sale in March, 1888, it brought (in company with "The Tretyse of the Love of Jhesu Christ," by Wynkyn de Worde, 1493) £305, and in July, 1889, an inferior copy, badly wormed, sold for £100.

These are the sort of books beloved by large public libraries, which are fast swallowing up the few that remain. From a pecuniary point of view it would perhaps pay some rich book-hunter of the Lenox type to buy up everything of the kind he could lay his hands on, though the worst of speculations such as these is that the interest on the money invested has a tendency to swell the principal, and so to add enormously to the original cost.

Among books that have gone down in price since

the Duke of Roxburghe made his famed collection are those classical works of the ancients which were at that time all the rage. Virgil is no longer a name to conjure with, unless he happen to rank as a sound copy of the editio princeps. The first edition of Virgil was printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz at Rome, without date (1469?), and the Duke, notwithstanding the search of a lifetime, never came across a copy of that. Not more than seven copies can now be traced, and only two of these have come to the hammer for more than a hundred years. One, though imperfect, realized 4,101 francs at the La Valliere sale held at Paris in 1784, and the other £590 at the Hopetoun House sale at London in February, 1889. Then Homer is also a most desirable companion if he happen to have been printed at Florence, in two volumes, folio, 1488. About 100 is his price under those circumstances. Speaking generally, however, unless the printer comes to the rescue of a Greek or Latin classic, it may fairly be said to have fallen on an unappreciative generation. Scores upon scores of volumes, the very flowers of classic days, edited by Cunningham, Heyne, Porson, and other first-rate scholars of the last century, are to be met with in this bulky catalogue at sums varying from 2 to 3 each. £2 £3 In an old book of this class, a copy of Epictetus, edited by Heyne, and published at Dresden in 1756, was a slip of paper with a memorandum of the price at which it had been purchased in 1760. It was a bookseller's bill for £1 12s., made out to one "" 'Mr. Richard Cosgrove," doubtless a good customer in his day. I have the book now, and it cost me fourpence, as much as it was worth. At the Duke of Roxburghe's sale a copy of this same edition brought 1 4s. This, no doubt, is rather an extreme case, but it will serve to illustrate the general principle sought to be enunciated, namely, that eighteenthcentury classics are, for the most part, but wastepaper, for the simple reason that only a comparatively small number of people can read them. The learning of the schools may be deep and thorough— to assert the contrary would be to offend many excellent scholars of our own day; but it is nevertheless extremely probable, to say the least, that there are more books of the kind than there is any demand for, and so they litter the stalls, braving the wind and rain, till they are rescued by the merest chance and given houseroom for a brief space.

In the opinion of many collectors the word "poetry" only embraces English verse of a certain period, or written by certain people. The Duke's library was particularly rich in ancient English verse, lyric and dramatic, and some of the prices realized were very high. Webbe's "A Discourse of English Poetrie," 4to., 1586, brought £64, and "The Parapyse of Daintie Devises," 4to., 1580, £55. A curious collection of some thousands of ancient ballads, in three large folio volumes, sold for

£477 15s. This collection, which was stated to be the finest in England, was originally formed for the celebrated library of the Earl of Oxford in the beginning of the eighteenth century, and was even then supposed to excel the Pepys collection at Cambridge. It came from the Harleian Library, and was purchased and afterwards largely added to by the Duke, who managed to secure a ballad printed by Leprevik at Edinburg in 1570, a ballad quoted in "Hamlet," of which no other copy was known to exist, and many other extraordinary rarities. Dibdin was present when the "poetry" was competed for, and bought several hundred pounds' worth of books, either on his own or somebody else's account, the whole of which he could easily have stowed away in his capacious pockets.

Naturally enough, the works of Shakespeare would first be turned to by anyone who held this catalogue in his hand for the first time. There are nearly three pages of closely printed entries referring to the great dramatist, and the only conclusion that can be arrived at is that in 1812 the early quartos must have been, if not exactly common, at any rate of no great rarity. It would be impossible to argue that Shakespeare was not then appreciated, for the contrary is well known to have been the fact. The late Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps in after-years talked of picking up early quartos for a few shillings each, and lamented that, for some mysterious reason which he found himself unable to explain, they had suddenly become scarce. Very likely he himself had excited a keen desire to possess them in the breasts of those who read his numerous books, or-publish it not in Gath!-the bulk of them may have fallen into unappreciative hands, and been used to light the fires withal.

However this may be, the early Shakespearian quartos, now of great price, were disposed of at the Roxburghe sale for only a little more, and occasionally for less, than the first editions of Marlowe, Massinger, and several other of the chief Elizabethan dramatists, A copy of the first folio sold, it is true, for £100, but the second only brought £15, the third £35, and the fourth £6 6s. This record, in the face of £84 for Boydell's edition in nine volumes, folio, 1802-a work which may now be expected to sell for £5 or £6, even with some of the illustrations after Smirke and others in proof stateis most extraordinary.

But let us get to our quartos and compare the prices of then and now. The first named are those realized at the Roxburghe sale; those in brackets are modern, and authenticated with dates and items complete. There is more scope for reflection here, and a whole volume might be written on the mutability of fashion. "Much a-doe about Nothing," first edition, 4to., London, 1600, £2 17s. (the Gaisford sale, April 23, 1890, 130); "A Midsommer Night's Dreame," first edition, 4to., 1600, £3 3s.

(ibid., £116); "The Merchant of Venice," by Roberts, first edition, 4to., 1600, £2 14s. (the Cosens sale, November 11, 1890, £270); “Pericles, Prince of Tyre," 4to., 1619, 5s. (the Lakelands Library, March 12, 1891, £37); "Pericles, Prince of Tyre," 4to., 1635, 14s. (ibid., £15); "Romeo and Juliet," second, or first complete edition, 4to., 1599, £12 12s. (the Perkins sale, July 10, 1889, £164); “King Lear," 4to., 1608, £6 12s. (the Brayton-Ives sale, New York, March 5, 1891, $425); "Sir John Oldcastle," first edition, 4to., 1600, 19s. (the Gaisford sale, April 23, 1890, £46).

These modern prices are small in comparison with what might have been, for none of the copies above mentioned were in the finest condition. If we want first-rate records we must go further back-to the Daniell sale, for instance, held in 1864, when thousands of pounds were paid as a matter of course for a selection of these little quarto volumes, which had successfully eluded the greasy fingers of generations of playgoers, the fires of disgusted Puritans, and the ignorance of our own people. Never shall we see nearly three thousand distinct lots of English poetry as previously defined disposed of at one single sale again, never again will prices rule so low. Many of these books are not to be met with at all in our generation, no matter what price may be offered for them, seeing that, as an old book-hunting friend used to say, they have become "scandalously uniquitous.”

In addition to early English texts, the great Duke had amassed a splendid collection of romances of the Quixotic school, known in polite circles as the Table Ronde. He was not content, it seems, with the printed editions, but also collected many manuscripts on vellum, illustrated with beautiful illuminations. inations. Among these curious manuscripts were several which had been used and translated by the celebrated Walter de Mapes for the entertainment of his Sovereign, Henry II. The printed books of this character, some of which occasionally, though very rarely, gladden the hearts of romantic bibliophiles, included the twenty-four small volumes recounting the exploits of Amadis of Gaul, published at Lyons and Paris in 1577, etc., and also several duplicates, £16 16s. A fairly good set, without the duplicates, brought £4 4s. in April, 1887-a dreadful drop, considering the demand there is for books of the kind. Still, this particular work has undoubtedly fallen, for another copy produced only £6 the June following. Nor, should I imagine, would "L'Histoire du Noble Chavelier Berinus," a quarto book printed at Paris, without date, sell for as much as £7 75. at the present time, or "Le Livre de Beufves de Hautonne," folio, Paris, 1502, for £13 13s., or "L'Histoire Merveilleuse du Grand Chan de Tartarie," folio, 1524, for £22.

The twelve pages devoted to the enumeration of works of chivalry and romance glow with the mar

tial achievements of Palmerin of England, Godeffroy de Boulion, Perceforest, Roy de la Grande Bretaigne, Perceval le Galloys, and scores of other champions who went about rescuing damsels in distress, sleeping in enchanted castles, and challenging the whole civilized race of men, one at a time, to mortal combat. Perceforest, by the way, in six folio volumes, Paris, 1528, went for £30, a fact worthy of note, inasmuch as another copy sold, a few months ago, for £10 10s. Of all the knights of ancient days, the regal Perceforest was the least worthy of credence, which is saying a great deal. His folios bristle with dragons, necromancers of the worst type, heroic rescues, combats with giants, devils, and all kinds of monsters who strove, and in vain, to destroy this past-master in Quixotic enterprise. That such books did at one time exercise considerable influence over adventurous spirits is undoubted. They were the only novels of the day, the only bit of light reading to be had in the interval between one tourney and another.

2

Passing by a large and almost complete collection of the separately published works of Robin Greene, that unfortunate who bought a groat's worth of wit with a million of repentance, we come to the Voyages and Travels, and note, as before, the differences in prices. Hakluyt's "Collection of Voyages,' vols., folio, 1589-99, brought 4 14s. 6d. (the Holding sale, January 17, 1895, 16; the Langham sale, June 19, 1894, £375, second edition, 3 vols., folio, which contained the map by Molyneux, of which only twelve copies are known. This copy belonged to the first issue, without the cartouche about Sir Francis Drake, which was subsequently added); "Hakluytus Posthumus; or, Purchas his Pilgrimes,' 5 vols., folio, 1625-26, £42 (the Toovey sale February 26, 1894, £51); "Sir Francis Drake Revived," 1652, and "The World Encompassed by Sir Francis Drake," 1652, the two pieces 7s, (the Hawley sale, July 2, 1894, £6 5s.); "Cookes Voyages," 8 vols., 4to., 1773-84, with the large plates bound in two folio volumes, £63 (December 5, 1893, at Christie's, £3 12s., and on many other occasions for about the same amount); Eden's "History of Travayle in the West and East Indies," London, 1577, £6 10s. (the Thornhill sale, April 15, 1899,

10 5S.; the Wimpole sale, June 29, 1888, £18 10s., original binding); Vancouver's "Voyage of Discovery to the North Pacific Ocean," 3 vols., 4to., and folio atlas of plates, 1798, £8 18s., (the Holding sale, January 17, 1895, £5 5s.). It would be more than tedious to pursue this comparative analysis further. Suffice it to say that as a rule the prices realized in 1812 for books of travel were greater than would be realized now under similar circumstances, especially when the journeys undertaken were about the foot-worn Continent of Europe or in the various English counties. Pennant's "Journey from Chester to London," for example, is now a book of small account, yet the Duke of Roxburghe's copy sold for £7 15s.

Works relating to America are, curiously enough, almost absent from the Duke's catalogue, and it may fairly be taken for granted that at the beginning of the present century no one cared much about them. This will explain the extreme scarcity of many of

these books now, for what people think lightly of they take no care to preserve. Hundreds and thousands of Americana must have been torn to fragments or otherwise destroyed in past days. Often of small size, they would escape the notice of lovers of folios, nor is their general appearance sufficiently imposing to appeal to those who value a book strictly in proportion to its external beauty. The Duke had only a few works of travel in any way relating to America, and as the list may be interesting, I have thought it best to transcribe it verbatim et literatim: Schmidel "Navigatio in Americam," 4to., Norib., 1599, £ I 6s.

Las Casas's "Discoveries, etc., of the Spaniards in America," Lond., 1699, 3s. 6d.

"History of the Bucaniers of America," 4to., Lond., 1684, £2 6s.

Hennepin's "Discoveries in America," 8vo., Lond., 1698, 3s.

"Voyage dans l'Amerique," par La Hontan, 2 vols., 8vo. La Haye, 1703, and "Dialogues avec un Sauvage de l'Amerique," par La Hontan, 8vo., Amst., 1704, the two volumes 7s. 6d. Hontan's "Voyages to North America," 2 vols., 8vo., Lond., 1735, 6s. 6d.

Joutel's "Voyage to the Mississippi," 8vo., Lond.,

1724, 2S.

Carver's "Travels in N. America," with plates, 8vo., Lond., 1778, 10S.

Long's "Voyages and Travels in N. America," 4to., Lond., 1791, 11s. 6d.

Mackenzie's "Voyages in N. America," 4to., Lond., 1801, L1 6s.

Martyr's "Historie of the West Indies," 4to., Lond., 1612, £3 7S.

"Historie des Antilles," par Père du Tertre, 3 vols., 4to., Paris, 1667, etc., £2 2s.

Blome's "Description of Jamaica," etc., 8vo., Lond., 1678, 8s.

Gage's "Travels in America and the W. Indies," 8vo., Lond., 1699, 2 s. 6d.

Wafer's "Description of the Isthmus of America," 8vo., Lond,. 1699, 9s.

"Collectio Peregrinationum in Indiam Orientalem et in Indiam Occidentalem, 19 partibus comprehensa, cum multis figuris Fratrum De Bry, 4 vols., folio, Francof., 1519, £51 9s.

This "Collectio Peregrinationum," or Grands Voyages of Theodore de Bry, nearly always makes its appearance in the auction-room in sections. Nine of the parts, including the Additamentum, all first editions, with the plates and maps, sold on July 1, 1895, for £18 10S.

And now we must take a final leave of the Duke of Roxburghe and the collection which he got together during the course of a long life of painstaking and critical research. His catalogue is worth comparing with several important records of the present day, but to do this thoroughly would involve a tabulated analysis quite out of keeping with a work such as I am engaged upon. There is magic in comparisons, for they tell us what to avoid, and it may be that by their aid we could in a measure take fashion by the forelock and jump the years to come. Such a consummation is possible, but life is rounded too narrowly by the present, and therefore too short to make it worth anyone's while to endeavor to peep into futurity.

THE PROPOSAL IN FICTION.

Being a Chapter From "How Men Make Love and Get Married."

By D. R. MCNALLY, JR.

"The lover now, beneath the western star, Sighs through the medium of his sweet cigar, And fills the ears of some consenting she

With puffs and vows, with smoke and constancy." -Moore.

As over three-fourths of the books printed and read are prose fiction, it is evident that love holds an important place in literature, as important indeed as in the lives of those who read. It is not strange that novelists seek the most attractive subject they can find, but in view of the numbers who have written on this topic, it is remarkable that so few have succeeded in depicting correctly a passion of which every one knows the power. The pictures of love in novels are often so far from true that the novelist not infrequently lives in a world of his own, in which the good are all good, the bad are all bad, and while motives and causes which operate in life appear, they do so as in a dream, in which everything is distorted, and no cause produces the result expected. There is more than one phase of love in the world, but the novelist generally finds but one; there is more than one kind of love, but the high, pure devotion that comes after marriage attracts little attention from the writers of fiction; whether it be too prosy or too sacred is a question.

Love is not the sole business of life, as the novelist would have us believe. The people who in works of fiction are distracted by a consuming passion, are not above daily wants; their butchers, their bakers, their candlestick makers call with supplies and present bills; the landlady of the loving youth who walks on air will come in on Saturday with her weekly account; the young lady whose soul is transported into ethereal regions must eat and drink. Novelists overlook these facts, and treat their personages as though the sole employment of life were to love and to be loved. The truth is, love is an ordinary matter to all but those engaged in it; to them it is remarkable, in fact unprecedented, and in literature is so treated, and here the literature of love is misleading.

Nor is love a blind force moving all alike, as some masters of fiction would have us believe. In no two people is this passion shown in the same

* "How Men Make Love and Get Married” is a highly diverting volume, all no less delightful than the chapter we have copied by special permission of its publishers. If our readers knew what a clever book Mr. McNally has produced they would secure copies, first for themselves and then for their friends. It is one of those rare books one is not content to enjoy alone. Published in paper covers at 25 cents and in cloth, decorated, $1.00.-(Chicago, Laird & Lee).

way, and the art of the novelist is displayed in noting its varied manifestations in different characters. The unskillful writer will make his lovers as much alike as peas in a pod, and extensive novel-reading always inspires the suspicion that the author not unfrequently invents a plot, then adjusts his characters to it like the blocks of a sectional map.

But the objection of monotony does not lie against proposals of love or marriage, for the numberless differences of age, of disposition, of circumstances, under which proposals may be made, afford a wide field to the fancy of writers, and, consequently, in this feature of prose fiction there is to be found a diversity known nowhere else in the novel. All people who marry, propose or are proposed to, and from the proposal of the eighteen-year-old boy to the twenty-eight-year old girl, to that of the centenarian, is a distance wide enough to justify the variety that exists; and when the number of novels is taken into account, the ingenuity of the writer is taxed no little to bring about a proposal in some new, unexpected or pleasing fashion, for it must be remembered that there is but the one thing to be done, and it must be done in a way more or less conventional, so that the novelist has no easy task. But the test has been well borne, and a glance at a few of the proposals given in some of the most popular novels will probably corroborate this statement.

There, for instance, is Lawrie in Louisa Alcott's "Little Women." He proposes desperately, but Jo tries to reason with him, which proves, as the author says, "she knew nothing about love." Lawrie puts his head against a post, growls in a muffled tone, and finally tells her "he is going to the devil," a statement which makes her heart stand still. This is the youthful proposal, the converse of which is the proposal of the elderly gentleman to the very young lady. In Marryat's "Petronel," there is such a case. The lady receives the solemn proposal of prim Mr. Bertram with a nervous giggle which degenerates into a peal of laughter." Throughout the whole scene she is in a giggling mood, and finally runs off to her room leaving him standing like a fool in the middle of the floor. A different result attended the hero's efforts in Taylor's "John Godfrey's Fortunes." The girl did not run away but became speechless, and after her lover had put his arm around her waist, discovered that her head rested much easier on his shoulder. He begged her to "Speak, darling," to which she inconsistently responded, "I cannot," at the same time hiding her face in his breast.

Women are good at depicting the acts and motives of other women, so it is unusual to find a scene so overdone as the declaration in Mrs. Oliphant's "Agnes." The young lady's face become "utterly pale," her voice sank to a whisper, while "wonder and a certain awe mingled with anguish in her heart." It is further intimated that she thought

the world was coming to an end, and when her lover touched her hand she started with terror and burst into tears, finally, however, recovering sufficiently to give him yes, for an answer.

Thus far the agitation has been on the part of the lady, but in "Gloria Victis," the boot is on the other foot-if such an expression is allowable in such a connection. When Oswald proposes, his voice trembles, he breathes faster, the color rises to his cheek, the words die in his throat. "Ella," he observes, "all my happiness lies in your hands." "Her heart beat loudly, the lace ruffles on her bosom trembled, she lifted her eyes. How handsome he was;" a reflection which at once allayed any doubt that she may have felt, for she placed her hand in his and accepted on the spot. Oswald, though humble, was pride personified when compared with George Eliot's lover in "The Mill on the Floss." This great novelist makes her hero too humble to retain even his own self-respect. He has "pangs of dread," his self-consciousness makes him think himself "besotted to speak at all," his eyes are "liquid and beautiful with beseeching love." Maggie, too, sheds tears, "glistening tears" by the way, stoops her tall head, and "kisses the pale face that was so full of pleading, timid love."

Although little attention is given by the novelists to what the gentleman says, there is no limit to the description of his looks and actions, it being well understood that the way he looked was of far more importance in determining the answer of the lady than what he said. In the "First Violin," the young man's eyes are dry and calm; he is pale; his mouth has a grave, steady sweetness, while "the wind wuthered wearily;" as well it might, and "the water rushed." She let the answer be a kiss on his "broad, sad forehead," whereupon he promptly folded her to his breast with "a long, tender, yearning kiss," with, however, it is proper to add, "little passion in it, a fit seal of love, deeper and sadder than triumph."

The consideration of a number of cases seems to indicate that it is necessary to "seize" the hand of a lady. Simply taking her hand does not seem to answer the purpose, for it is possible that if her hand is "taken," the lady might misunderstand the purport of the action. Thus it is in "Their Pilgrimage." Two lovers are sauntering along a bypath and trying to talk. Suddenly the gentleman, without apparent provocation, seizes the hand of the lady. "No, no," she cries, for it must be noted a lady seldom speaks on such occasions, but always "cries." "You must listen," shouts her lover; "I love you, I love you." She does listen, and in course of time, she turns to him her face. Her lips tremble, a look of wonder steals into her countenance. "Is it all true?" It was, and in another moment "she in his he kissed her hair and eyes."

While seizing the hand is a necessary preliminary to a declaration of love, putting the arm around the lady's waist is an equally important accompaniment, and in case of acceptance, kissing seems to be absolutely indispensable. In the "Portrait of a Lady," the kissing part of the programme is enjoyed by the party of the second part, for "she smiles as if an angel had kissed her;" tells him "she likes him." Becoming enthusiastic when this information is imparted, he seizes her hand, raises it to his lips and further proceedings are as usual.

The conduct of the lady and her method of accepting the advances of the gentleman, are favorite topics for description by the novelist. In "The Wooing O't" the coy damsel tells the gentleman, "I have tried so hard not to love you;" but upon his offering proper inducements, she tries no longer, but gets into his arms at once. In "Daniel Deronda," the lady does not talk, but listens patiently to her lover through several tedious "stickfuls," and then speechless, "she could only lift up her lips to his and kiss them, as if that were the simplest yes."

In Disraeli's "Lothair," the lady is also silent, but after hearing the gentleman out, "took his arm and hid her face in his breast," a statement which must be a mistake of the novelist, unless the lady took both of his arms, for how could she hide her face in his breast when holding but one arm, unless she were willing, as no woman possibly could be at such a time, to stand in an inconceivably awkward position.

In Kingsley's "Yeast," after the gentleman had spoken "loudly and passionately," regardless that the servants might be at the key-hole, the lady felt a strong shudder run through her frame; the ice of artificial years cracked, the clear stream of her woman's nature welled up into light, and with one long look of passionate tenderness, she gave up, not the ghost, but "herself into his keeping forever.” This is pretty, and it is hard to turn from it to the artificial display made by the heroine in Howells' "Register." The gentleman gave the lady lessons in painting, and on pay-day, after a long conversation in which she argued with him like a metaphysician, he meanwhile pleading for her love, she tendered him the money for her tuition and a receipt for him to sign: "Received of Miss Ethel Reed, in full, for twenty-five lessons in oil painting, $125 and her hand, her heart, and her dearest love forever;" a large price to pay for painting lessons, and much larger tender of futures on contract than is usually made. This acceptance by Miss Ethel is unreasonable, for the receipt must have been written beforehand, and while a proposal may be anticipated, yet, like an epileptic fit, it always comes suddenly, and only a patient or an expert can exactly foretell the moment when it will take place.