Of late much discussion has taken place with regard to the choice of books. Carlyle and many other authors more or less famous have given to the world their opinions on the subject, each author, of course, consulting his own taste. The reluctance with which the average man or woman takes advice in any form is proverbial, and we see no reason to doubt that any exception will be made in the preseut instance. Allowance must be made in this case, as in many others, for difference in taste. Because Brown, for instance, is fond of reading French novels it does not necessarily follow that Jones is easily suited. This is self-evident, and yet many people seem to lose sight of the fact. Byron preferred Pope's translation of the Iliad to the original, and spoke very slightingly of Shakspere and Wordsworth. Charles Lamb considered Marlowe's "Faustus" superior to Goethe's immortal " Faust,', and not to multiply examples, Johnson could see no genius in Fielding. "Sir," he said, "there is more knowledge of the heart in one letter of Richardson's than in all 'Tom Jones'." It is certain, then, that one should not be guided by individual opinions in his choice of reading.

QUOTED BOOKS.

An American professor makes a curious assertion with respect to many of our classics. "By some kind of spell," he says, "all the old books, whose names have been rattled off for generations in essays, speeches and in table talk, pass as einbodiments of merit, while the real truth is that those names won their popularity in a vulgar age and have now outlived their merits." This may be true in some instances. The number of people who think for themselves is, we know, very small, but it is idle to say that we are all like the pious Brahmin. We dare say "Pamela" created as much talk on its publication as "Tom Jones," yet who reads Richardson's novel now; "Pamela," however, is by no means the only book of which much was prophesied. Numerous instances will be familiar to our readers. Many of our old books are, as Mr. Henry Morley says, more quoted than read." Butler's "Analogy," Paley's "Evidences, Hooker's "Ecclesiastical Polity," Hobbes's "Leviathan," Locke's "Essays on

Civil Government"-these are books which, although well known, are by no means widely understood. Charles Lamb, who thanked God that he had a catholic taste for reading, classed among the "books which are not books" the works of Hume, Gibbon, Robinson, Beattie, Soame Jenyns and the histor.es of Josephus-a list to which many additions might be made. Of those old authors whom we do read few are represented by more than one book. Take Defoe, for example. What schoolboy has not read "Robinson Crusoe?" The general reader," however, can scarcely be said to have more than a superficial knowledge of " The Journal of the Plague Year" or of "Colonel Jack;" and very few are acquainted with the many political and historical works which Defoe wrote. Fielding is generally known by "Tom Jones," Swift by "Gulliver's Travels," Smollett by his "History of England," Johnson by his Dictionary, Lamb by his Essays, and so on.

POPULARITY.

Judging by an account of an interview with Mr. Routledge which the Pall Mall Gazette published, most of our favorites hold their own. Of the poets, Longfellow-according to the editions which Mr. Routledge publishes-is most generally read; 6,000 of his poems are sold yearly. Scott comes next, with 3,170 copies; Shakspere, with 2,700 copies; Byron, with 2,350. Rogers (whose name was great in our grandfathers' days) is the lowest on the list, with only 32 copies. Of novelists, Dickens is most generally read and widely appreciated. In England alone, we believe, nearly 5,000,000 copies of his works have been sold since his death. This number does not include unauthorized editions. A short time ago the street boys were selling an illustrated 'Nicholas Nickleby' for a penny, and many other cheap edi. tions of "The Master's" novels have also been published. "Fifty years ago," says Mr. Routledge, “an edition of 500 was considered large, and one of 2,000 enormous." These figures seem small when compared with, say, the large editions of 'The Pickwick Papers.'

A WRITER'S CHANCES.

A writer's chances of being widely read depends greatly on his style, and it seems to us a piece of literary affectation for any author to write in florid or obscure language. No man who writes for posterity, as the Times says, can afford to neglect the art of composition. Dr. Johnson's verbosity was a standing joke among many of his contemporaries. Of him Macaulay said that he wrote in a style in which no man ever made love, quarreled, drove bargains, or even thought. When he wrote to his friends he wrote good English, but when he wrote for publication he "did his sentences into Johnsonese." "He has had his reward," says a writer. "His 'Rambler' lies unread on our book shelves; his talk, as recorded by Boswell, will be perused by thousands of delighted students." Carlyle's extraordinary style undoubtedly militates against his being more extensively read. The feelings of the ordinary reader

after having read "Sartor Resartus" are similar to those experienced by Jerrold on a memorable occasion. "On the author of Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures' recovering from a severe illness Browning's 'Sordello' was put into his hands. Line after line, page after page, he read; but no consecutive idea could he get from the mystic production. Mrs. Jerrold was out, and he had no one to whom to appeal. The thought struck him that he had lost his reason during his illness, and that he was so imbecile that he did not know it. A perspiration burst from his brow, and he sat silent and thoughtful. As soon his wife returned he thrust the mysterious volume into her hands, crying out, 'Read this, my dear.' After several attempts to make any sense out of the first page or so she gave back the book, saying: 'Bother the gibberish! I don't understand a word of it!' 'Thank He wen!' cried Jerrold, then I am not an idiot!'"-All the Year Round.

SALA ON COMIC DRAUGHTSMEN AND

DICKENS.

The following extract from a letter, in our possession, written many years ago by Mr. George Augustus Sala to Augustus Mayhew is of interest just now. "Bitter political excitement" there is, and to spare, in the old country-it remains to be seen whether it will cause a "satirist" to be "borned." "There must be a comic draughtsman growing up somewhere. No, there is not. I will tell you why. Comic artists should be satirists. The French Revolution "borned" Gillray and Rowlandson; the great wars with Napoleon begat George Cruikshank; the Reform Bill and Poor Law agitation 1830-40 begat Leech and "Phiz." The first had exhausted both the politics and the follies of his age, and, before he died, with his external barrel-organ homilies and his monotonously pretty girls, with their stag-eyes, long hair, petticoats and drawers was becoming a thorough bore; while as for poor "Phiz"-(who at the time of, say Chuzzlewit, was really a great comic artist)-he seems to have fallen into a kind of idiocy. Routledge began to soften his brain, and Maxwell sucked out his spinal marrow. As for the young gentlemen of the present day, they seem to think that when they have drawn the folds in a pair of trousers, or the hair-net over a chignon correctly they have attained perfection."

From the same letter we extract the following criticism. "I have just read 'Dr. Marigold.' It is all as far fetched as Iceland moss, but (Dickens's part) very pretty and pathetic. The under-strappers' part I had not patience to read. I have done too much myself of that d-d Christmas task-work. It is painful, however, to see that Dickens can do nothing sentimental without killing a kid. He is the Herod of literature."

A bill "to encourage the growth of circulating libraries in the cities of the State" has been signed by the governor of New York.

LIBRARY NOTES.

The task of removing the 120,000 volumes of the public library from an insecure building on Dearborn Street, Chicago, to the top story of the new City Hall has been accomplished. The new quarters are supposed to be fire-proof and are certainly, when once reached a great improvement over those formerly occupied.

The Council of the English Library Association having accepted the offer of a member who wishes to give a prize for the best essay on a subject connected with libraries, announce that they have chosen for subject "The Extension of the Free Libraries Act to Small Places."

In order to supplement the great catalogue of the MSS. in departmental libraries now in course of publication, the French Minister of Public Instruction has applied to the various learned societies throughout France to supply him with lists of their MSS. so that they may also be described in a printed general catalogue.

The library of Drew Seminary is already one of the finest collections of Methodist literature in the world, and constant efforts are being made to supplement it and make it especially rich in all departments. The new library building when completed and furnished will cost about $100,000.

From Le Livre we learn that it is proposed to form a library of the French Revolution for the Exposition of 1889, to be made the nucleus of a permanent Museum and Library of the Revolution.

It is announced in The Nation that the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale Vittorio Emanuele at Rome has begun publication of a 'Bolletino' of modern foreign works acquired by the Government public libraries of the kingdom. These lists appear bi-monthly, from January, 1886, and are classified. The typography, like that of the Bolletino' of the Florence Central National Library, is open and attractive. A letter or letters affixed to each title denotes the respective libraries (out of the thirty) in which the work is to be found. An asterisk signifies a donation; two asterisks, an international exchange.

Mrs. Julia C. R. Dorr has devoted herself since January to the work of establishing a free public library in Rutland, Vt. The institution will have a free collection of between three and four thousand volumes, when it opens this month.

During the past year, ending May 1st, 32,000 volumes were consulted at the Mercantile Library of New York; 143,105 volumes were taken out, an increase of 9,596 over the preceding year. Of these 74,086 were works of fiction, 55,461 "standard" literature, 9,158 French, and 4,400 German.

The American Library Association has passed a resolution recommending such legislation by Congress as shall enable libraries to distribute books through the mails as second-class matter at one cent per pound. A committee has been appointed to further such legislation.

Lloyd P. Smith, the Librarian and Treasurer of the Philadelphia and Loganian Library died, July 2, at his home in Germantown, aged 65 years. Mr. Smith succeeded his father, John Jay Smith, as Librarian 37 years ago, but for some years previous had been his father's assistant. James Logan, the first secretary to William Penn, established the Loganian Library. By his will he provided that the Librarian should always be a member of his family. The Loganian Library was afterwards transferred to the care of the Philadelphia Library Company, to be held with the original trusts. The mother of John Jay Smith, and grandmother of the dead Librarian, was a Logan, hence he was qualified for Librarian of the Loganian branch, which is now kept with the Ridgway branch of the Philadelphia Library at Broad and Christian streets.

A report of the theological seminary libraries, by E. C. Richardson, of Hartford Theological Seminary, in the Proceedings of the American Library Association, gives some curious facts. The largest library belongs to Union Seminary, New York, Presbyterian, which has 50,000 volumes. By denominations the figures run: Presbyterian fourteen, with 203,000 books; Catholic, eighteen, with 186,000; Congregational, ten, with 118,986; Baptist, fourteen, 105,000: Episcopal, twelve, 86,000; Lutheran, thirteen, 52,000; Reformed (Dutch), one, 37,000; Methodist, six, 28,000.

"Let this be held the Farmer's Creed:
For stock seek out the choicest breed,
In Peace and Plenty let them feed;
Your land sow with the best of seed;
Let it not dung nor dressing need;
Inclose and drain it with all speed;
And you will soon be rich indeed."

A correspondent of Notes and Queries being anxious to know whether the phrase "square meal" was an Americanism, Mr. Edward Marshall writes:A reference to Webster-Mahn shows that this, like many another so-called Americanism, is good old English. "Square, Leaving nothing; hearty; vigorous."

By Heaven, square eaters, More meat, I say.-Beaumont and Fletcher. PROF. HUEMER, of Vienna has discovered in the Hofbibliothek a MS. of a forgotten German poet of the eleventh century, written in Latin. The work is called 'Synodicus.' The author is Wernerius of Basel.

Halfpenny or one cent newspapers are popularly supposed to be peculiarly nineteeth century achievements. But in 1724 The Halfpenny Post was published three times a week in London, and in 1725 was started The Halfpenny London Journal, or the British Oracle, while in 1740 appeared The Farthing Post.

Not long since we alluded to the extraordinary vagaries of collectors. Boot-heels are the latest craze. An industrous German residing in Berlin has gathered together 1,000 heels from boots and shoes worn by eminent personages, and declares that the character and disposition can be traced in the way in which the wearer treads down the heel.

Granger says that Marshall's portrait of Milton was the first print of him ever published; and Salmasius in his Defensio Regia says it gave him a more advantageous idea of his person than he ever had before. Milton himself had a very different opinion of it as may be gathered from the following translation of some Greek verses which he wrote under a copy of the portrait. "Will any one say that this portrait was the work of an ingenious hand? My very friends looking at my own natural countenance know not whom it represents, but laugh at the awkward imitation of the idiotic artist."

In buying manuscripts the great difficulty consists in knowing whether they are perfect or not. It would be impossible to give rules for the purpose of assisting a buyer, but we may venture a caution as to two of the most common of such books. In Missals always look for a painting of the crucifixion. If this be wanting the book is almost certainly imperfect. In books of "Hours" you may be equally particular in seeking a calendar. Without a calendar the book would have been practically useless.

Some months ago we alluded to a catchpenny publication entitled Pickwick in America' by "Bos." In addition to that dreary production the following continuations of Dickens's books have been published. Master Humphrey's Clock "—" Master Timothy's Bookcase,” G. W. M. Reynolds, 1842. One of the tales introduced is "Mr. Pickwick's Marriage"! "Nicholas Nickleby "-"Nickleby Married" by Guess," 1840. "Edwin Drood" "Edwin Prood Complete," Part II., by the spirited pen of C, D. Brattleboro, (U. S.) 1873;—"John Jasper's Secret," in monthly parts, London, 1870.

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Martial had a prophetic eye to the modern dude when he wrote:-"A beau is one who arranges his curled locks with nicest care. . . . who idles away from morn to even his whole time, where ladies meet, ever whispering some nothing in some fair one's ear; who reads little billets-doux from this one and that, scribbling in return; who shrinks from rubbing against the coarse dress of a neighbour's guest; who knows who flirts with whom, and flutters from feast to feast: who can recount most accurately the pedigree of the race-horse "Hirpinus. What do you tell me? is this a beau? Then a beau Cotilus, is a very trifling thing.

A curious and interesting volume is Thomas Bancroft's 'Two Books of Epigrammes and Epitaphes. Dedicated to two top-branches of Gentry, Sir Charles Shirley, Baronet, and William Davenport, Esquire,' a 4to published in 1639. Epigrams 118 and 119 are addressed to Shakspere and are as follows:118.

"Thy Muses sugred dainties seeme to us
Like the fam'd Apples of o d Tantalus:

For we (admiring) see and heare thy straines,
But none I see or heare those sweets attaines."

119.

“Thou hast so us'd thy peu (or shook thy Speare) That Poets startle, nor thy wit come neare."

In a letter written by Keats to Fanny Brawne lately sold in London, the poet writes:-"My dear Fanny, I am much better this morning than 1 was a week ago; indeed I improve a little every day. I rely on taking a walk with you upon the first of May . . . . . Feeding upon sham victuals and sitting by the fire will completely annul me. I have no need of an enchanted wax figure to duplicate me, for I am melting in my own proper person before the fire. Good bye, my sweetest girl. J. K."

In his 'Plea for Art in the House,' Mr. Loftie relates the following anecdote:-"A gentleman happened to stroll into a sale room during a sale of books, and seeing an unbound book full of engravings, and described as a Sarum Service-book, he bid £5 for it, imagining it to be worth much more. It was knocked down to him and for months he amused his leisure with that book. First he went to the British Museum and soon ascertained that no example of the same edition was in that library. Then he had it handsomely bound, and taking it to Oxford, and other places, compared it with various specimens, sometimes finding a fragment of the same edition bound into another book, and once a very imperfect copy wanting the large cuts. At last he grew tired of his toy, and having written a full account of its beauties and peculiarities, he put it up at an auction and received £36 for it."

We have stated our opinion in these columns that among the greatest enemies of books are-alaswomen. Here is a case somewhat in point. Many years ago we determined to illustrate Jackson & Chatto's History of Wood Engraving,' and to that end for three or four years collected fine specimens of wood-engravings, many modern ones being rare India proofs. Especially did we pride ourselves upon the magnificent Bewicks we had gotten together, many of them proofs of the highest rarity and value. Having occasion to proceed to New Zealand for a year, our collection was left in charge of a female relative. On our return we rushed to our beloved books, and finding them in good order, sought our collection of wood engravings. Sought them in vain. Enquiring for them we received this crashing reply, "Oh, all those rubbishly old prints-why I just cut off all the waste paper round them, and made a lovely scrap book for the Children's Hospital in Ormonde street." Eheu!

A lady who had a nephew, wished as his birthday approached to give him a present. She knew that he greatly admired an old book in her library. It was the "First Folio" of Shakspere, a very large copy in the original binding. She would give him this book and thinking it looked shabby she sent it to a binder, who took off the rubbed old calf, and put the book into a neat, half-binding of green roan, at the same time cutting the edges close to the text and gilding them. The lady's nephew found it difficult to express his thanks in suitable terms, for his chief, if not his only, admiration for the book consisted in its being one of the "tallest" copies in existence.

Says the Boston Record:-It is now not long since, on our own Beacon Hill, in our own Senate a member rose and said: "Such a trial is a parody upon justice. I can only compare it to the trial scene in 'Pickwick,' where poor Pickwick is sued by the Widow Bedott!" The Historian is not an iconoclast, nor is he unmindful of the belief that Boston is literary, but the bitter fact remains that not one member of the Senate moved a muscle to save the reputation of that body. The Senators regarded the speaker with the ingenious air which a North End councilman might adopt in listening to a quotation from Dante. The House, too-but rot with unchanged countenance, be it said-has heard a member from near Cranberry Centre state: "In the words of the Scotch poet, my foot is on my native heath, and my name is Micawber!" A well-known physician of this city, who was interesting himself in an amateur production of 'Little Em'ly,' in referring to the arrival of the visitors at Peggotty's home on the Yarmouth sands, said that the perform- · ers didn't appreciate the true significance of the scene between Steerforth and Pillicoddy! Poor Pillicoddy! Substantial shadow of Warren, defend us!

Dryden, who was notoriously poor, was offe evening in company with the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Dorset, and some other noblemen of wit and genius. The conversation, which was literary, turned on the art of composition, and elegance of style; and it was agreed that each person should write on whatever subject chanced to strike his imagination, and place it under the candlestick for Mr. Dryden's judgment. Most of the company took uncommon pains to outdo each other; while Lord Dorset composedly wrote two or three lines and carelessly threw them to the place agreed on. The rest having finished, the arbiter opened the leaves of their destiny. In going through the whole, he discovered strong marks of pleasure and satisfaction; but at one in particular he seemed in raptures. "I must acknowledge," said Dryden, "here are abundance of fine things in my hands, and such as do honor to the personages who wrote them; but I am under an indispensable necessity of giving the highest preference to my Lord Dorset. I must request that your lordships will hear it, and I believe all will be satisfied with my judgment:-' I promise to pay John Dryden, or order, on demand, the sum of five hundred pounds. DORSET.'"

THE news that Mr. George Augustus Sala has determined to publish his "Autobiography" is very welcome. For nearly fifty years Mr. Sala has led an active literary life. He was a personal friend of and collaborateur of both Dickens and Thackeray. He has assisted at the birth and death of periodicals, magazines and newspapers the mere titles of which would fill a couple of columns of the BOOKMART. To him is mainly due the enormous success of the London Daily Telegraph with its daily quota circulation of a quarter of a million copies, and its annual profits of a million and a half dollars. In the pursuit of his vocation as a special correspondent Mr. Sala has visited many countries, has surveyed mankind from Nishni-Novgorod to Rotomahana, has taken part in many wars and described every important public event that has taken place in England during the last thirty years and more. He was an intimate friend of that bright phalanx known to fame as the "Punch Men," Douglas Jerrold, Mark Lemon, John Leech, Shirley Brooks, Horace Mayhew, Percival Leigh, John Teuniel, Albert Smith and Tom Taylor. If Mr. Sala has sufficient nerve to tell his story fully and without reservation then his Autobiography will be one of the most picturesque books of biography ever published, Dr. Johnson's Life of Savage not excluded.

THE iron has entered into the souls-have they souls?-of the booksellers. The American Bookseller laments, "The retail book stores are fewer in number now than they before the war." Is the moon, by the way, as bright as it was befo' de war? "Dry goods' counters and cheap libraries at news stands have done their best to kill them off,

and from every quarter may be heard complaints of the difficulty experienced in effecting legitimate sales. Matters are perhaps now at their worst point." As it always darkest before dawn perhaps our friends the retail booksellers will soon see daylight. The London trade appear to be in quite as deplorable a condition as their American brethren; indeed a bookseller writes to a London trade journal that "If the present system continues there will be very few good booksellers left." So far as the English trade is concerned it has not yet been invaded by the dry goods houses, to any appreciable extent, and the retailers have it in their own hands. Messrs. Smith & Son who sell in the course of a year more ephemeral literature than any half a dozen booksellers combined have always steadily discountenanced the discount system, and twopence or ence in the shilling "off" is to them "unknown" as "French of Paris" to Chaucer.

This cry that the trade is going to the "demnition bow-wows" is nothing new. It was the shibboleth twenty years ago and in all probability will be twenty years hence. The London Bookseller says that the "multitude of conflicting interests with which the whole question is beset are such that the more closely it is examined the more positively it seems to defy solution." In the meantime the second-hand book trade is a vast mine of undeveloped wealth which we recommend to the attention of the retailers. The price of a new book is pretty well fixed and the margin of profit is ridiculously small; the price of a second-hand book is precisely what your conscience and the buyers pocket-book choose to make it. You can ask-no harm in asking-as much as you please and can