A. S. W. Rosenbach

“ Only college professors, students, scholars, and such people ever read books," answered Hooker, contemptuously.
"I think book-men the most foolish class of persons on earth," retorted Worthing. "Give me some good old sport, like boxing, or foot-ball, that makes your heart tingle, that causes the red blood to shoot through your veins—that makes life worth living! Man wasn't created to spend his life roaming around a dusky old library, when he can go out into God's pure air and enjoy the fields and the streams, the forests and the lakes!" ”

“ It is true that books are my real love, but pamphlets flaunt a certain piquancy which I have never been able to resist. One might call them the flirtations of book collecting. I crossed to the corner, disturbed that I had not seen the volume earlier in the evening, that I had so little time to devote to it. But hurried as I felt,—it was almost time for the sale to begin,—I came upon a copy of Gray’s Odes. It was not only a first edition, but the first book from Horace Walpole’s famous Strawberry Hill Press, printed especially for him. ”

“ Hooker tried in every way but could not give up the idea of being its possessor. It haunted him at night, and during the day his mind constantly reverted to its matchless colors and quaint designs.
He knew Miss Blaythwaite slightly, having met her in former days at her father's house, when he used to delight in looking over his famous library. The pity of it all was that the missal was to be in the keeping of a woman. If it had gone to some collector who would treasure it as a delectable gift of the gods, it would not be so bad. But to a woman! ”

“ Acquisitiveness, that noble urge to possess something the other fellow hasn’t or can’t get, is often the direct cause of assembling vast, extraordinary libraries.
Book lovers who were contemporaries of Moses Polock treated him as though he would live forever. It has been noted that those who collect things outlive people who do not. No one notices this so much, perhaps, as the collector himself who has his eye on the collection of another, or the book collector who cannot sleep well at night for the thought of a valuable first edition he would like to own. ”

“ Although Hooker had known Miss Blaythwaite for some time, she was to him always, the Lady of the Breviary.
When he felt the delicious warmth of her hand, he thought of the missal; when she was seated near him, poring over some old volume of forgotten lore, his mind turned to its wonderful binding, or its miraculous miniatures. Strange as it may seem, Miss Blaythwaite was nothing more to him than the guardian and sole owner of a book that his soul desired. Sometimes, when they were reading together some volume of Elizabethan verse, another caller would be announced ”

“ It is extremely gratifying to note the extraordinary love of books persisting in one American family for almost a century. In England the Huths and many others have shown the tendency, the collector’s instinct passed on from father to son for many generations. In this country it is rare. The remarkable exception, however, is evidenced by the Browns of Providence. The great library founded by John Carter Brown, with its glittering array of superb volumes—among the finest in the world—bears eloquent testimony to a continual devotion to books and learning. ”

“ The past fifty years has produced in this country a group of book collectors equal to any that has appeared in England or on the Continent, men well in advance of their time, like the greatest book lover of them all, Richard Heber. I always envied this bibliomaniac his two possessions; as Sir Walter Scott so neatly puts it, “Heber the magnificent, whose library and cellar are so superior to all others in the world!” Would that Americans could be as successful gathering old vintages as old books! In this, England has it all over us. ”

“ One evening, about a month later, the eccentric collector of the little Connecticut town sat down in his chair to gloat over and hold communion with his "literary" treasures, for he did not call them articles of virtu or specimens of bric-a-brac, or furniture of the Jacobean period, but gave each piece that was dear to him a name that smacked of books and learning. His mind turned to the evil early life of William Penn, and the wisdom of Poor Richard, while at the same time his eyes were riveted upon a beautiful eighteenth century desk. ”

“ The feel of the paper always fascinates me, so firm it is, so beautiful in appearance. It seems alive, yet there is something definitely final about it. It is as though the paper of the Gutenberg Bible had proudly indicated from its inception that nothing finer, nothing more perfect ever could be made. Nor is the vellum of any other old book of finer texture than that which Gutenberg, the master printer, used. The rarest vellum is from the thinnest, the most velvety part of the inner skin of the sheep. ”

“ It's a superb copy!"
The Colonel laid before the astonished eyes of Richard Hooker the priceless first edition of Poe's marvelous story. It was in the original brown printed wrappers, just as it was published. With trembling hands he grasped the book; he turned the first page and gasped. A startled cry broke from his lips. The Colonel at once noticed his pallor. He did not dream that an old book would affect even the most ardent bibliophile in this manner. In all his experience of forty years he had never seen anyone so overcome at the sight of a dingy pamphlet. ”

“ He was, without doubt, the greatest collector of books the world has ever known. Without possessing a profound knowledge of literature or of history, his flair for fine books was remarkable. His taste was sure, impeccable. The library at San Gabriel, California, which houses his wonderful collections, will be the Mecca of students for all time. No gift to a nation or to a state can ever equal his. America does not appreciate it to-day, but, as time spins its web, and the world becomes better acquainted with the Huntington treasures, this fact will be adequately recognized. ”

“ The book was constantly under guard in a guaranteed burglar-proof vault. To employ the most experienced crackmen to undertake the job would be almost insane. He could not try to substitute a facsimile as in the "Three Trees." To bribe the guard was foolhardy because the guard did not know the combination of the safety-lock. He was at his wit's end! Not a single practical idea entered his head. For once he was at the end of his resources!
Robert Hooker was a great lover of books. Like other kinds of love, the more he was denied, the greater the love grew; and time added fuel to the flames. ”

“ An exciting sale of books had just ended, and I was left a rather bitter young man. The purchaser of the one book I had so eagerly hoped to secure was a thin, wiry man, with a face of rare charm. He was not an auction habitué, at least not at Henkels’s, or I should have recognized him. One gets used to the same old faces in an auction room. Earlier that evening I had noticed him two rows ahead of me, a distinguished-looking person; but once the auctioneer’s hammer had struck, giving him the final decision on his bid, I changed my opinion, and he now appeared highly distasteful to me. ”

“ Libro's heart had almost stopped beating. There was the long lost quarto of "Titus Andronicus," 1594, and a perfect first edition of "Hamlet"! There were others in the volume, a veritable treasure trove. It was, in truth, a great discovery!
"What's it worth?" said Steinman.
"Something to a collector," replied Libro, honestly: "nothing to you."
"Well, if you know anyone who wants the old thing he can have it for ten dollars. I once advanced that amount on it. Since then I say, No Books!"
John Libro by a superhuman effort controlled himself.
"Steinman, I need money for food. ”

“ Of all the branches of the sport connected with book collecting, that of attending book auctions is the greatest, the most stirring. I presume some patient mathematician knows the number of facets of the Koh-i-nur diamond, but no one will ever be able to count the emotional reflections which take place during a book auction in the hearts and minds of men and women who are enamored of books. The book auction is an adventure. Other adventures may lose their glamour if you repeat them, but each experience at a sale of books brings a delightful thrill never to be duplicated. ”

“ Hooker said nothing. Bibliophiles are not missionaries. They do not go into the by-ways of the world to uphold their creeds, for the love of books is such a wonderful thing that it can never be explained!
When he left Miss Blaythwaite that night, he felt that the breviary was farther from him than ever.
Hooker, however, came swiftly to a decision.
The only way he could obtain the Abelard Missal, was by marrying Miss Blaythwaite. The next evening he called, with this firmly fixed in his mind. This wily, calculating book-worm had slowly crept into her affections. ”

“ If they were in Philadelphia, it was to the bookstalls along Second Street they went; in New York, to the drowsy old shops of lower Broadway. In these and other places serious-minded young collectors—can’t you see them in their stovepipe hats, their high, tight collars, and enormous black satin cravats?—searched in leisurely mood through the untouched treasure-hoards of Americana. Indeed, those were the days when you could pick up Smith’s History of Virginia for fifty dollars almost as easily as you can secure to-day the latest novel of a popular writer. ”

“ During my frequent visits to England I have often been asked why Americans are so persistent, even voracious, in acquiring the great literary treasures of Great Britain. I have been accused in its public prints of being the greatest offender. I have been likened unto the ogre of ancient times. Perhaps it is pertinent, therefore, to know the reason why Americans are so anxious to obtain, at almost any price, not only the choicest English books and manuscripts, but the outstanding contemporary documents that chronicle so faithfully and so inexorably the political and literary history of England. ”

“ Libro was looking over the Poems of John Keats, published in 1817, when a catalogue slip fell out. On the slip it stated that a copy had once sold for five hundred dollars! This, then, was meat and drink for him! He would sell it! He could live for months on poor Keats. But his soul revolted. He was not a cannibal. He could not live off the flesh of his own.
But at last he was compelled to return to Steinman. He wrapped up the precious volume tenderly, affectionately. ”

“ But the book auction, which includes the sale of literary manuscripts and letters, continues to offer those very elements which first fascinated you. Don’t be surprised when you find yourself one of the habitual adventurers. Unsympathetic, misunderstanding friends may accuse you of being a book-auction fiend, but you will listen indulgently and let it go at that.
Most of the great books of the world have found their way to the auction room at one time or another. Bibliophiles of renown have sat restlessly out front bidding against one another. ”