ess. I know that, especially in the instance of the
Astorian Library, the selections of books have been made with great
judgment, and that, after the boundaries of the common crowded market
were passed, and individual rarities had to be stalked in distant
hunting-grounds, innate literary value was still held an object more
important than mere abstract rarity, and, as the more worthy quality of
the two, that on which the buying power available to the emissary was
brought to bear.

The zeal and wealth which the citizens of the States have thrown into
the limited field from which a library can be rapidly reaped, are
manifested in the size and value of their private collections. A volume,
called The Private Libraries of New York, by James Wynne, M.D., affords
interesting evidence of this phenomenon. It is printed on large thick
paper, after the most luxurious fashion of our book clubs, apparently
for private distribution. The author states, however, that "the greater
part of the sketches of private libraries to be found in this volume,
were prepared for and published in the Evening Post about two years
since. Their origin is due to a request on the part of Mr Bigelow, one
of the editors of the Post, to the writer, to examine and sketch the
more prominent private collections of books in New York."

Such an undertaking reveals, to us of the old country, a very singular
social condition. With us, the class who may be thus offered up to the
martyrdom of publicity is limited. The owners of great houses and great
collections are doomed to share them with the public, and if they would
frequent their own establishments, must be content to do so in the
capacity of librarians or showmen, for the benefit of their numerous and
uninvited visitors. They generally, with wise resignation, bow to the
sacrifice, and, abandoning all connection with their treasures, dedicate
them to the people--nor, as their affluence is generally sufficient to
surround them with an abundance of other enjoyments, are they an object
of much pity.

But that the privacy of our ordinary wealthy and middle classes should
be invaded in a similar shape, is an idea that could not get abroad
without creating sensations of the most lively horror. They manage these
things differently across the Atlantic, and so here we have "over" fifty
gentlemen's private collections ransacked and anatomised. If _they_ like
it, we have no reason to complain, but rather have occasion t