“This is a work not entirely without merit, but it is evidently the production of a youthful author, who will write better when he shall have read more.” Nothing was to be done but to put it up, and say no more about it. The only perplexity was to settle matters with the bookseller, who, after producing accurate accounts of advertisements, paper, printing, and cancels, was enabled to pay the author the sum of thirteen shillings and eightpence! Before we change the scene from provincial to metropolitan booksellers, something is to be said of an individual, mentioned in our notes under the appellation of the Dirty Bookseller. Our friend, in his youthful rambles, on some occasion or other, found himself in a country town, where his curiosity was attracted by the sight of some books at the window of a shop of humble appearance, in the corner of a street. A temptation of this kind was, through the whole of his life, irresistible. He accordingly entered, and found a round faced, mean looking, old man, with a small table before him, examining some catalogues, and surrounded by book-shelves, on which were some very curious and very scarce volumes. The old man with a small capital had watched his opportunity, and by purchasing the libraries of deceased clergymen and private gentlemen in his neighbourhood, and by living with the most parsimonious frugality, had gradually accumulated very considerable property. The incident, perhaps, would hardly have been worth recording, except from the circumstance that this humble nest, built in a very obscure part of the kingdom, subsequently produced a splendid bookseller, who was succeeded by one equally splendid, but who might also be termed a Coxcomb Bookseller. Possum etiam pergere sed non est operæ in istis diem terere, et sit mihi tempus aggredi ad cætera. Jam ergo lector optime scito te non fabulam legere et a socco ad cothurnum ascendere. CHAPTER XLI. Surely, exclaims our Sexagenarian, in continuance of his scraps upon the subject, I shall find in the Metropolis, booksellers of a different calibre, men of enlarged minds, liberal ideas, and ample property, who, even for their own sakes, will be glad to promote literary industry, and encourage literary talent. To the metropolis he came, and almost the first person to whom he was introduced was a Dry Bookseller. He was an extensive publisher on all subjects, and of all parties, from the most subtle and profound speculations on mathematics and philosophy, to the humble translation from a French romance. His own principles were immutable, nor did he take any pains to conceal them. He was of the old Presbyterian school, and had imbibed its sourest manners. Yet he was far from wanting benevolence, though he generally wore a sort of Sardonic grin on his countenance; he often shewed kindness to needy authors, was not over hard in his bargains with them, and, what is matter of no trifling importance, would often give them a dinner.