Naude, the apologist for "great men suspected of magic," whose patron, by the way, was Cardinal Mazarin, had a method of purchasing which, if not unique, was at any rate uncommon. His favourite plan was to buy up entire libraries, and sort them at his leisure; or when these were not available in the bulk, he would, as Rossi relates, enter a shop with a yard measure in his hand, and buy his books by the ell. Wherever he went, paper and print became scarce: "the stalls he encountered were like the towns through which Attila had swept with ruin in his train". Richard Heber, the bibliotaph, too, had collections of miscellaneous books at Paris, Antwerp, Brussels, and other continental towns, to say nothing of London, where the aristocracy among his treasures were deposited. The books were sold by auction after his death; the sale occupied 202 days, and flooded the market with rubbish--a worthy termination to a life of sweeping and gigantic purchases, made in the hope of acquiring single grains of wheat among his tons of worthless chaff. But Naude had the wealth of Mazarin at his back, and free licence to purchase as and where he would at the Cardinal's expense, while Heber was rich beyond the dreams of avarice; the modern book hunter, whose means we will suppose are limited, must discard the yard measure and the scales, and rely on his judgment, taking care to get the utmost value for his money. He will have to make up his mind to buy or not to buy on the spur of the moment, for while he is consulting his books of reference at home, a golden opportunity may be missed. This is his capital difficulty, and one which it will take years of experience to surmount, for there is no _vade mecum_ capable of being carried in the waistcoat pocket, which will enable him to spot a rarity at a glance; nothing, in fact, which can compensate for a lack of practical knowledge. I have often thought that a register of scarce but mean-looking English books, of such a convenient size as to be carried in the palm of the hand, might be of assistance to those who haunt the stalls, and delve among the rubbish usually to be found there; some day, perhaps, it may be worth while to try the experiment, _sed Gloria, quantalibet quid erit; si gloria tantum est_? What will be the value of ever so much glory, if it be glory and nothing else?