it. Yet strange events still continue
to happen from time to time. Not Caxtons nor Shakespeares, but
excellent books which command prices in the open market, are yet
occasionally given away.

A case occurred in Lincolnshire about a year ago, when a library of
some 2500 volumes was sold by an intelligent provincial auctioneer _al
fresco_ in the dogdays, and put up in bundles, nearly all of which
were knocked down at the first bid--_threepence_. Say, 150 lots at 3d.
per lot = L1 17s. 6d. for the whole. There must have been an _entente
cordiale_ among those in attendance, the gentleman in the rostrum
inclusive.

These instances of misdirection, which have been in times past more
numerous than now, although two of the most recent and most signal
have occurred in the same county (Lincolnshire), inevitably tend to
the destruction of copies, and so far illustrate our remarks on the
causes of the gradual disappearance of books during former periods.

There are, however, circumstances under which prices are depressed by
collusion, as where a first folio Shakespeare was knocked done for L20
in an auction-room not five hundred miles from Fleet Street; or by an
accident, as when the original _Somers Tracts_, in thirty folio
volumes, comprising unique _Americana_, fetched _bona fide_ under the
hammer only L61. A single item was re-sold for sixty guineas, and
would now bring thrice that amount. What a game of chance this book
traffic is!

Imperfect Books, as distinguished from Fragments, constitute a rather
complex and troublesome portion and aspect of collecting. They are
susceptible of classification into books--(1) Of which no perfect copy
is known; (2) Of which none is known outside one or two great
libraries; (3) Of which even imperfect examples, as of a specimen of
early typography or of engraving, are valuable and interesting; (4) Of
which copies are more or less easily procurable. It is only the last
division at which an amateur of any pretensions and resources draws
the line. With the other contingencies our keenest and richest
book-hunters and our most important public collections have been and
are obliged to be satisfied. When it is a question of a unique, or
almost unique, Caxton, Wynkyn de Worde, or Pynson, or quite as much of
a volume from the London, St. Albans, Tavistock, York, or Edinburgh
presses, what is to be done? The object, no doubt, _laisse a desirer_;
but where is another? This sentiment and spirit oper