This pleasurable following to-day has not the advantages that existed in the middle of the past century, as not only are there now more seekers after these treasures of the past, but America has so many collectors of old books that the demand is greater and the prices higher. These drawbacks will greatly interfere with both the business and the enjoyment of future collectors. The chances, too, of the old-book collector are not nearly so great as formerly, for the changes which have taken place, particularly in London, have certainly swept away many of their favourite haunts. It is to many a very great pleasure to look back in memory upon old Holywell Street, with its scores of book-hunters turning over the boxes and seeking for treasures. Mr. W.E. Gladstone and many dignitaries of the Church could often be seen there. Fleet Street, the Strand, Holborn, and many of the by-streets between Oxford Street and Trafalgar Square, were great thoroughfares for the book-hunter; and although the barrows of Farringdon Street are still in existence, either the bookstall man now knows his business better than his predecessor or the gems are sold before he places these precious books on his barrow. Many times I have turned over the stock of old books on these Farringdon Street barrows, but have never yet been able to find anything of value, although others have been more fortunate. We have now no such opportunities as those of Charles Lamb; and I cannot say if we would avail ourselves of them even if we had. Lamb writes (March 25, 1829):-- "I have just come from town where I have been to get my bit of quarterly pension. I have brought home from stalls in Barbican the old 'Pilgrims Progress' with the prints Vanity Fair, etc., now scarce, four shillings, cheap. And also one of whom I have oft heard and had dreams, but never saw it in the flesh--that is in sheep-skin--'The whole Theological works of Thomas Aquinas.' My arms ached with lugging it a mile to the stage, but the burden was a pleasure." All lovers of books must at some time feel the fascination of the second-hand bookseller's shop, and especially when it has a "Tuppenny Box" attached to it. At such shops, you may examine every book in the place, read a little, look at the pictures and the binding, have a gossip with the intelligent bookseller, and never be asked to spend a penny. The keeper of such books usually knows his business and the origin and history of much of his stock, and is able to tell some good bookish stories in keeping with his profession. A true lover of books thinks little of their monetary value but treasures a volume because of its contents, or perhaps for some association or memory connected with the author.