All the world recognises Sir MARTIN CONWAY as a paramount peak-compeller and explorer of resource, while superior persons, like this learned clerk, know him as an effective _dilettante_ in the realms of art. In _The Sport of Collecting_ (FISHER UNWIN), with a general candour, but a specific, canny (and of course rather tiresome and disappointing) reticence as to prices, he gives us, in effect, a treatise on the craft of curio-hunting, gaily illustrated by anecdotes of the bagging of bronze cats in Egypt, Foppas and Giorgiones in Italian byways, Inca jewellery in Peru, and heaven knows what and where beside. The authentic method, apparently, is to mark down your quarry as you enter the dealer's stockade, to pay no visible attention to it but bargain furiously over some pretentious treasure which you don't in the least want; later, admitting with regret your inability to afford the price, to suggest that as a memento of your pleasant visit you might be disposed to carry off that odd trifle in the corner over there; then, bursting with hardly controlled excitement to see your priceless primitive wrapped in brown paper and thrown into your cab, to drive to your quarters, hug yourself ecstatically and boast to your friends and fellow-conspirators about it. Shooting the driven tiger from the howdah is quite evidently nothing to this royal sport of dealer-spoofing, especially when the dealer knows a thing or two, as Sir MARTIN bravely confesses he sometimes does. I wonder if this arch-collector, when he discovered his best piece, Allington Castle (of which he discourses with such pleasant and knowledgable enthusiasm), turned a contemptuous back on the battlements and made a casual offer for the moat. A most diverting book. * * * * *